More Than Enemies

by thinknicht

Summary:

If someone had asked 13 year old Haruno Sakura what she wanted to do with her life, she would have said something along the lines of “marry Sasuke-kun and have his babies!” and certainly not “befriend an infamous psychopath and make Sasuke-kun hate my guts!”

Alas, no one ever asked her.

 

Busy trying to be a decent sensei, Kakashi unwittingly gets involved in a plot that spans from the deceased fourth Hokage to Danzo himself… and completely misses the slow yet pervasive changes happening to his female student. Not until it’s too late, anyway. (He always is.)

Starts off cracky, gets serious

Notes:

Any and all reviews are welcome. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1: The Catalyst

Summary:

Team seven is in the middle of the first stage of the exam, awaiting to be told the tenth question by Ibiki, as Sakura deliberates whether to raise her hand or not.

Notes:

ABOUT THE STORY:

-More Than Enemies will be crackish until chapter seven or so but starting then the plot takes off, becoming quite intricate. If you're looking for something darker, then feel free to skip forward a bit. However, the light parts are there to justify the growing bonds and friendships between characters, whilst the darker parts put those bonds forged to the test.

-This story is marked as itasaku but the most important component of it is Sakura's character development, romance is not the focus, in fact I'm over 250k words in and they're still at the friendship stage. I suppose you could consider it a very slow burn. After all, this whole fic was born from the idea orf Itachi training a clueless Sakura to then later re-encounter her as an enemy in the field, and the whole drama that would ensue once people found out Big Bad Itachi had 'manipulated' the pure cherriblossom Haruno. TL;DR: The main focus of the story are different relationships between the characters, not romance, including but not limited to: Kakashi becoming a better teacher, Sakura rekindling her friendship with Ino, getting closer to her teammates, getting over Sasuke, Sasuke taking the stick out of his ass, Hinata growing some balls, Itachi's development, etc.

-I shouldn't even need to say this but there will be no underage itachi/Sakura nor grooming or any creepy stuff.

-All and any comments are appreciated, concrit is welcomed. They all boost my morale a lot. The only thing I don't like having pointed out are typos, but actual errors that come from lack of knowledge are welcomed. Your analysis on the plot and what parts you liked/disliked always makes my day, no matter the language or skill level you comment with, so knock yourselves out.

More Than Enemies

---

Sasuke's apartment was high up, enough so that if the situation hadn't been what it was, Sakura might've gotten dizzy. Her feet clung to its outer walls as she sprinted up, up, up, toward the rooftop, far away from that horrible room, from Sasuke's blood on the floor, from the man chasing her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement behind her. She ran harder.

She made it to the top of the building in record time but it was't enough, the prickling at the back of her neck told her he was right behind her. He was onto her. But there was no time to think, it was fight or flight and she wasn't dumb enough to attempt the former. Sakura took off across the rooftop, the sound of footsteps on tiles following in her wake. He was right behind her... was he toying with her? Get away! something primal in her screamed, but she'd made it to the end of the roof. Get away!  her instincts had gone haywire; she jumped.

It was lucky that she landed with only scraped knees on the next roof. The chase continued, she continued running. She jumped off another building again. In the air it was as if time slowed, her instincts screamed at her again, louder than ever and she went into a roll. Half a second later, something sizzled past her.

A weapon – very sharp, if the pain in her forearm was anything to go by. It had been covering the back of her head. If she hadn’t thought to cover her nape with it, now she’d be dead.

The thought barely registered, thre was only the roar of the blood in her veins, the footsteps behind her, the wardrums of her heart that pounded still, running overtime to keep her alive. Time seemed to go faster again and in the next second her jump was finished, she was no longer airborne, she was crash-landing on yet another rooftop. Her sandals squelched noisily over it, ripping tiles off as she skidded downward, till the very edge. A tile sprung up, slashing over the tendon of her ankle. The pain barely registered, but the sudden blow did cause her to lose her balance, and then she was free-falling into the street.

It was by the skin of her teeth that she managed to latch onto a light calble with her feet before she could crash into the ground, but her momentum was too great and she could barely cling to the cable with her feet, static buzzing, chakra working frantically to cling to it, sparks flying even as she zoomed down  the cord in increasingly tighter spirals. Finally, the momentum was too great and she lost control, feet flying free, body airborne as she careened across the street.
It would've been a bad fall, but Tetsuya had taught her how to handle those. She managed to land on her feet. Panting. Terrified. Planning her next action... but alive. However, before she could do anything, he was there. He'd caught up. 

As she crouched there, on that cold pavement, staring up at the pale, androginous-looking man, Sakura said her goodbyes.

Her knees were threatening to give out on her, her throat clogged. His killing intent enveloped her like a blanket that slowly asphyxiates. She was panting like a pig at the slaughterhouse, nails digging painfully into her skin to the sound of his blade against the scabbard. He took his time, but finally he had unsheathed it. Her fingers shook. These were her last moments. Sakura's yaw clenched and she scrunched her eyes shut.
Yes, these might be her last moments – but if she was to die, she'd do so on her own terms. If the man was going to kill her, she'd damn well stare him down whilst he did it. She might be a weakling, but she wouldn't die a coward.

With a new resolve burning in her eyes, Haruno Sakura lifted her head and faced death.

---

One month ago...

Sakura was staring at the back of Naruto's head as she hought furiously. She could see that her teammate was quaking in his seat. If he raised his hand now, they would all fail but if he didn't and they still didn't pass, he might never become hokage. Even though she knew that she most likely would be able to answer the tenth question, she felt her heart reaching out to him. He was so determined, so very set on becoming hokage, on reaching his silly dream… it broke Sakura's heart to think that he might never be able to keep dreaming if he failed this exam. She didn't want to see the light in his eyes fade.

Sakura wondered. Should she raise her hand…?

To be honest, quitting now left a bad taste in her mouth, especially as she had done amazingly well... but no. If there was anything Kakashi-sensei had taught her, then it was this: "those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their teammates are worse than scum". She had taken his words to heart.

The idea of giving up, especially after acing the test left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what if that was what the test was about? To know when a strategic retreat was better? After all, team seven could still try again next year, when they were more experienced and better prepared to tackle the chunin exams. Sakura recalled her old academy instructor, Iruka-sensei, preaching to her class about patience being a virtue that would help them greatly in their ninja careers. Keeping his advice in mind, Sakura thought, and thought, and thought… and made up her mind.

(Little did she know that this decision would change the course of her entire life.)

She raised her hand.

---

 

As soon as team seven was outside of the testing room, Sakura knew she'd made a mistake. Neither Sasuke nor Naruto would speak to her or even look at her. Sasuke let the examination room's door shut in her face and almost broke her nose. Naruto's arms were crossed and his teeth clenched. The aura surrounding the both of them was downright scary. She tried to explain her thought process, that they could try again when they were better prepared, that this was a strategic retreat, that it was the right thing to do when they (here she didn't say 'Naruto') clearly wouldn't be able to solve the tenth question.

It was to no avail. Naruto's arms remained crossed, Sasuke's usually relaxed pace much faster, so that she wouldn't be able to keep up, his neck and shoulders tenser than a cat's cradle string. "Sasuke-kun, please!" Sakura insisted. "We're a team! We have to do this together!" She hoped he'd get the hint, that they couldn't leave Naruto behind.

"I have to become strong," he answered.

"But you already are!" cried Sakura.

"Stronger," Sasuke, his gaze slanting to her with the equivalent of a snarl in his eyes. "You're worse than the dead-weight. Wasting my time." He was giving Sakura a narrow-eyed stare, borderline a sneer, his breaths ragged, and before she could make her excuses, he'd continued walking away from her at an even faster pace.

Naruto's enthusiastic defences of her shone in their absence. He was silent, also refusing to look at her.

…that ungrateful twat!

Sakura could feel her tears building. She couldn't stomach the thought that both her teammates hated her. She had done this for Naruto, couldn't he see? Risked Sasuke-kun's opinion of her for him? She had to make him see.

"Naruto!" she snapped. "You're not allowed to be mad at me! You were just about to raise your hand too!"

Here Naruto finally looked at her. "No I wasn't!" he yelled. "I'm gonna be hokage and hokages don't quit!"

"You're a baka!" Sakura retorted angrily, eyes stinging. "Don't you see you would've failed the tenth question? If you had, you wouldn't have been able to become hokage anymore!"

He squinted at her moodily. "A stupid test like that wouldn't have stopped me!"

"Yes it would!" Her throat felt raw. "See if I care, the next time!"

Naruto looked at her for a moment. "Sakura-chan…" He gave her a searching look, but said nothing. They stood there for a moment. Then, Naruto turned around and ran to catch up to Sasuke.

Well, at least he still called her Sakura-chan. Sakura's shoulders sagged. She took a quick moment to breathe and try to control herself. Just now, she'd almost started crying like a baby in front of Naruto. She couldn't let them see her cry. She couldn't. She had to keep it together for just a little longer...

---

Kakashi found them as they were exiting the building. He didn't try breaking the ominous silence. It was truly a testament to his laid-back personality that he could manage to read his Icha Icha book in such a tense situation. For once, both Naruto and Sasuke seemed to have set aside their differences to build a joint front against Sakura.

Seemingly unaffected in the least, Kakashi, meandered ahead of them, leading the three genin back to the red bridge where they usually met in the mornings. "So." He propped his hip against the bridge. "What gives?"

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

"We didn't pass." Sakura forced herself to break it.

Sasuke scoffed hatefully and Naruto crossed his arms again.

"Ma, ma. You guys are way too uptight about this. I wasn't expecting you to pass either."

"Liar!" Naruto shouted.

"We could've passed no problem!" Sasuke grit out, staring hatefully at Sakura again.

To be honest, Sakura wasn't sure he'd looked at her so many times in a row in the entirety of their acquaintance. What did that say about her chances of dating him, she wondered sadly.

"I did expect you to pass the first stage," Kakashi amended, scratching his head. Sakura noticed with a snap that he'd pocketed his book. "But I didn't know that your proctor was Morino Ibiki." His lone eye narrowed.

"Even so, we were about to pass," Sasuke bit back, "but she ruined it!"

"Yeah! We still hadn't heard the tenth question!" Naruto chimed in, but Sakura was still stuck on Sasuke's vitriolic words, on his hateful expression as he said them.

(But she ruined it, ruined it, ruined it.)

Did he… did he hate her now?

Sakura could feel moisture start prickling at her eyes. Discretely, she leaned over the bridge, facing in the opposite direction of Kakashi-sensei. Her tears fell unseen into the pretty blue water.

Suddenly, a hand fell upon her head, which she knew instinctively must be Kakashi's.

"Ma… relax, you two. You'll do a better job next time, ne?"

"Yeah, no!" Naruto shouted. "I wanna be hokage! I don't have time to wait around for a year!"

"Neither do I, Kakashi," Sasuke followed up with narrowed eyes.

"Strength doesn't equal rank," Kakashi drawled simply. "Even if you had made chunin (which probably wouldn't be the case), as genin you will have more time to train. So! Let's get to that tomorrow. We meet here as usual. Dismissed."

When no one moved, Kakashi retrieved Icha Icha Paradise from his pouch and stuck his nose in it. This, as far as anyone was concerned, was the universal sign for "bugger off, brats". Still no one had moved (from what Sakura could tell), so Kakashi lazily waved a hand in dismissal and said: "Shoo."

And that seemed to do the trick.

"Shoo! He says! I'll say, when I'm hokage, no one will tell me that!" Sakura could hear Naruto's enraged muttering decrease in volume, along with another pair of footsteps which must be Sasuke's.

That was good. She didn't want them to see her tears. But neither did she want Kakashi to see them, and he had yet to leave. Instead of puffing away as usual, her sensei had remained right there next to her, leaning casually against the bridge as he thumbed through the worn pages of his trusty novel.

It must be said that, during the course of the entire conversation, Sakura had been fighting to suppress her sobs. It had been a very long time since she'd been so overwhelmed by emotion, and, while she was successful at keeping quiet, her whole body was, though silently, shaking just the tiniest bit. But Kakashi-sensei wouldn't be a jonin worth his salt if he didn't notice such things, so of course, he pretended not to. And was very obvious about it.

"Uh, Sakura-chan…?" He sounded painfully awkward.

Unfortunately, Sakura didn't think she could talk normally right then. Wisely, she chose not to reply, knowing all the while that she must be making Kakashi really uncomfortable, but unable to do anything about it. She couldn't stop crying.

"Sakura-chan," Kakashi tried again. "Come on. I know this nice little tea shop down the road. Let's go there, ne? Your awesome sensei has free coupons!"

Sakura nodded shakily and followed a few steps behind him, swiping at her eyes.

They walked in silence for a while, but Sakura was starting to calm down. Kakashi-sensei had put a hand on her shoulder and was holding his usual book in the other. Sakura knew that he must be judging her, but at least he wasn't being mean about it.

They made it to the tea shop.

"My eternal rival!" someone shouted. Sakura ignored the rude person until Kakashi actually replied.

"Yo!" Sakura looked up with surprise. Kakashi-sensei had lifted the hand from her shoulder, presumably to greet three ninja that were sitting on a table at the back.

The one who had shouted was by far the weirdest, with broad features, a bowl cut, eyebrows that resembled turnip leaves and a nose like a potato. The whole ensamble was completed by a bright green spandex outfit. Sakura looked away quickly; she didn't fancy losing her eyesight. Next to him sat a man who was smoking (Ino pig's sensei, her mind supplied) and a gorgeous woman with red eyes. Another man whom Sakura hadn't noticed before was leaning against the wall behind them. He had very creepy round eyes… It was strange. She could've sworn that no one had been there before.

No wonder Kakashi had so many quirks, with weirdos like these as colleagues.

The man in the green spandex rushed forward. "My eternal rival! Had I known you'd come here, I'd have prepared a challenge for us to compete in!"

"Ah, no need, Gai," said Kakashi. His hand went back to Sakura's head, ruffling it. "I'm actually here with Sakura-chan…"

Sakura could practically feel the weight of all the adults' gazes on her. Were they all jonin?! Kami.

Kakashi seemed largely unfazed. "Let's get some tea." He strolled toward the counter, ordering tea for the both of them.

"Hatake," said the old lady in charge. "I swear if you're planning to pay with those odious coupons again…"

"I suppose if you ask so politely, I can't refuse."

He began ruffling through his pockets, pulling out scrolls, papers, an old key chain with no keys, a mask, a senbon that was encrusted with blood…

The counter was getting progressively more cluttered as Kakashi continued to produce things from his pockets. Sakura was starting to feel keenly embarrassed on his behalf, when finally Kakashi retrieved two crinkled pieces of paper from within a scroll that seemed to be filled with random bills and receipts. With a triumphant swoop, he placed them in the only empty spot on the counter.

"Hatake?" the woman was growling.

"Yes?"

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"I just like my tea better if it's free," Kakashi said with a smile. "It has a special kind of flavour." He turned toward her. "Let's get a table, Sakura-chan." Then, he somehow grabbed everything he'd left laying around on the counter between his arms and ambled over to a table. Sakura was left to carry the tea.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura could see that all those weird jonin from earlier were staring at them with thinly veiled interest. The guy in green was giving Kakashi a thumbs up and bobbing his head up and down.

Kakashi turned to glare at them and suddenly they were all very interested in their tea. "So," he said, giving Sakura an expectant look. "Fill me in?"

And without further fanfare, Sakura did. Her previous embarrassment about Kakashi's antics had distracted her enough to feel significantly better already, and his nonjudgmental attitude was an added bonus. To be fair, it was freaking annoying that he was sorting through the mess he'd made while she explained about the exam, but, in retrospect Sakura would've admitted that it made the whole process less tense.

Finally, she was done talking and looked at Kakashi expectantly. He looked very annoyed.

Oh, no! Not him too, thought Sakura mournfully.

But then Kakashi's annoyance seemed to evaporate momentarily and he smiled instead. "Ma, I'm so proud, Sakura-chan. You're going to make your sensei cry tears of joy."

At Sakura's stumped expression, he added:

"You put your teammates' interests before yours, Sakura-chan. Naruto's, specially, and I know you're not as fond of him as Sasuke."

Sakura blushed. That was the understatement of the year. "But sensei… if what I did was right… why did we fail the test? It's not fair!"

Kakashi's face adopted the semi serious and annoyed quality it had had earlier. "Mmm… how to put this? Ibiki Morino and I don't see eye to eye about some things. Let's just say we have different priorities... but the way you handled it, attempting to retreat and regroup, you had the right idea. Ibiki's tenth question challenge was encouraging blind courage in genin, which is the fastest way for you to die in real life."

Sakura frowned. "But sensei…" she took a sip of her warm tea for courage. "Even if he has a different nindo, I should have seen underneath the underneath…" She sighed. "Some ninja I am."

Kakashi shook his head slightly, then propped his feet on the table and reopened his book. But he wasn't done talking, apparently: "Sakura-chan. If I were you, I would consider your failure to pass like a job well done. Morino Ibiki is the head of the torture division here… seeing underneath the underneath is a bit hard with him, wouldn't you agree? But even then, he shouldn't have used psychological warfare on you kids like that. Besides, logically, his test has no place in the chunin exams. Being chunin is about being able to work as a team. What he did was purposefully misleading and was encouraging you to put yourself above your teammates. You did good, Sakura-chan."

"Really?"

"Aaa. The purpose of the first nine questions was to gather information and pass it on to your teammates if they couldn't, which neither of you did. The only one who came close to being concerned about the team was you, Sakura-chan." Kakashi took a sip of his tea, though, unfortunately, his face was still covered by his book. "Really. If both your teammates performed this badly, that just means they weren't ready yet." He grinned. "Besides, I can't imagine Naruto cheating subtly to save his life."

Wait. Information gathering? Cheating?! Sakura's eyes opened like saucers as Kakashi's words caught up with her.

"Ch-cheating, sensei?!"

He blinked at Sakura lazily from behind his book. "How else would you complete the test? Didn't you mention the questions required advanced calculus?"

Sakura pouted. "So we were supposed to cheat?" Once again, she'd failed to think like a ninja. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

"Ma… at least that's what I would've done. The sharingan's handy like that."

"You're just lazy, sensei. I bet you could've solved every single question if you tried."

"I wouldn't presume so unless you told me what they are, Sakura-chan."

And so, Sakura told him about the questions. A few had been about tactics, but mostly they were advanced calculus (for trajectory prediction and such) and one was about disarming a civilian bomb.

"Huh… those chunin went all out," Kakashi opined when she was done explaining. "Most jonin wouldn't know this stuff."

"What about you?"

"Doubting your awesome sensei already, Sakura-chan?" He wiped and imaginary tear from his eye.

"So you can solve them?" That was good, Sakura could check the answers then.

"Maaa. You don't ask a lady her age, nor a jonin his IQ, Sakura-chan. Both will lie anyway." He winked. Okaaaaaay? "Though I'd still inquire into the others' responses, just to be safe, ne?"

Or in other words, he would still cheat because he was lazy. But at any rate, Sakura had a request: "So can I run my answers by you? I mean, I know I already failed, but…" Actually, she just wanted to see whether Kakashi knew his shit.

Kakashi slurped his tea. "I suppose your display of teamwork should be properly appreciated."

"So…?"

"Shoot."

"Oh, well… um, okay." Naturally, Sakura had memorised everything about the test as usual, so discussing her answers with Kakashi took no effort on her part (she wrote it all out neatly on a spare napkin). They spent the next fourty or so minutes hashing it all out, and at one point Kakashi even put his book down to stare thoughtfully at the napkin.

It was nice. Sakura felt pretty darn smart right then, discussing complex problems with her sensei like that.

"Looks like you aced it," Kakashi said at last. "Neat."

Sakura couldn't help but preen and fist-pump the air. "Cha! No need to cheat for me!"

"Ah, well…" Kakashi scratched his head. "Not in this case, no. But the real test, I think, was to see how good you were at information gathering and communication, not… uh… The elementary equations of ballistics." He smiled uneasily. "How did you know this stuff again?"

Sakura blushed. Somehow, his comment made her think of Ino when she called Sakura a nerd. "Um. I just… like to rationalise stuff. And um… I like solving problems."

"So you studied this in your free time?"

Sakura nodded.

"Well… how should I put this…"

Sakura interrupted him: "Yes, I know. It's a waste of time and I should've spent the time training, not reading books." She sighed. "It's just… this is the only thing I'm good at. And not just good, but the best. It felt so nice, to, for once…"

"Sakura-chan, it's fine. I understand. You know, sometimes we have to practice to get good at something."

"I know…" Sakura sighed. Of all things that she could've naturally excelled at, test-taking really wouldn't have been her first pick. She recalled one of Amy's favourite insults to her when she was little. "I'm such a paper ninja."

"A paper ninja, huh?" Kakashi said. "That's not a bad thing. The only other person I know who could solve this sort of thing at your age used to be an ANBU captain, you know? The youngest we've had, I think."

"Huh?" That actually sounded really cool. "So he was a paper ninja too?" Sakura asked giddily.

"Um…" said Kakashi uncomfortably. "Not exactly." (Sakura's shoulders sagged.) "But. He was very good at projectile motion calculations. He applied the knowledge to his own kunai throwing skills, with amazing results." For some reason, he seemed uncomfortable while talking about the mysterious ANBU captain.

"What could he do?"

"Um, I think what surprised me the most was how he could neutralise various shuriken with a single one of his," said Kakashi. "The one he threw rebounded off the others, which he used sometimes to deflect, others to attack."

Sakura's mouth fell open. "That's possible?!"

"My thoughts exactly."

Even theoretically speaking, that would be extremely hard to calculate. Actually pulling it off…

Sakura felt her competitive side stir. Could she do it?

"I see you're all fired up," Kakashi commented.

"Um. I guess I'd like to try. At least on a theoretical level."

"Well, who am I to stop my favorite paper ninja?"

Despite herself, Sakura smiled. "Sensei! Calling someone a paper ninja is rude. You're so clueless!"

"Mou, Sakura-chan. Calling a seasoned jonin clueless is way worse. Keep it up and you'll hurt your poor Sensei's feelings."

"There's nothing poor about you," said Sakura without thinking. "Not with how stingy you are, anyways."

"Now that's a compliment!"

Sakura giggled. Huh. Sensei was funny. She hadn't thought Kakashi's general weirdness could be funny. Normally she was annoyed at him for being late. But after today, she thought he'd have to be really late for her to get mad.

"Sensei?" She took a final sip of her tea, which was now cold. "Thank you."

Kakashi sensei smiled, his one visible eye crinkling: it seemed more genuine than usual. "Ma, the tea was free, so don't worry about it."

"Wait! I wasn't thanking you about the tea!" But Kakashi-sensei had already puffed away.

Sakura facepalmed. "Scratch that. Totally clueless."

---

 

Notes:

So? Who was the androginous-looking, dark-haired man from the beginning? Read to find out!

Chapter 2: The Crow

Summary:

Sakura starts off on the path to greatness... by bird-watching... and dog-walking.

 

The day Sasuke decided he was annoyed at Sakura was the day Sakura’s teenage fantasies crumbled. Well, not in their entirety, of course, but enough so that his presence in a five-foot radius of her no longer made her into a gushing fangirl. No, instead, it made her want to burst into fat, ugly tears and go to Ino and cry into her shoulder… which only reminded her of the fact that she and her former best friend weren’t on speaking terms anymore unless it was to insult each other… and all because Sakura had told her they were now rivals over who could conquer Sasuke’s heart.

Fat lot of good it did me, she thought to herself with a scowl.

It was so unfair! There were loads of romance books where the male lead got mad at the heroine or vice versa, but even then, there was usually a passion between them. There was a spark.

Now, this might come as a surprise, but Haruno Sakura, aged thirteen, was very well versed in the topic of romance and boyfriends (even if she’d never had one before), so she could say with certainty which type of romance was her favorite: the “Enemies to Friends to Lovers” trope. It was a secret she’d take to the grave but – gosh, it was just hot.

Long story short, if her life were a book and Sakura its heroine, Sasuke being mad at her would be the natural order of things before he inevitably realized that they were meant to be. The problem with that was that her teammate was now completely allergic to her, going to great lengths in order to avoid her. The phrase, ‘wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole’ came to mind. Never mind touch her, Sasuke refused to even look at her! He very deliberately did everything in his power not to, which spoke of a greater awareness of her than he’d ever seemed to have before. Some may argue that this was better than being passively ignored like he’d been doing until then, but it was not… because being actively ignored by Uchiha Sasuke, as Sakura had found out that morning, defaulted to being completely out of the loop – from everything... and it was horrible.

 

 

Trying to stay optimistic, she had searched for other things to do. Instead of training, like some may argue would be best, Sakura had taken to bird watching to pass the time. She had briefly considered bringing her knitting materials for the next training session, but she’d figured that might be pushing it a little too much. No, she had to at least pretend she was being productive. And so, Sakura had changed her excuse to “practicing her awareness” while actually bird watching. She even knew the routines of some of the 'usuals' by now!

Her favorite out of all the birds that frequented training ground nineteen was the crow. Crows, Sakura had read, were very intelligent animals with some of the biggest brain/body ratios out there. They could solve puzzles, they cared about their family… hell, they could even recognize humans by their faces and communicate to their kin which ones to avoid based on previous experiences. In short: the feather-cleaning habits of crows were currently the least depressing part of her morning. Sakura sighed, probably for the one thousandth time.

Where was Kakashi-sensei, anyway? He was later than usual, and that was saying something!

 

---

 

Kakashi Hatake was in fact ambling down the street. Just then, a certain someone decided to ruin his morning:

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei!"

A quick side glance revealed the speaker as that one academy sensei whom Naruto was so fond of. The one person who seemed to have realized that Kakashi wasn't even halfway decent at the whole teaching thing and had said as much to the hokage and all of his jonin colleagues… yep, that one.

Naturally, Kakashi pretended not to have heard him. Unfortunately, the man was almost as persistent as Naruto and very peskily continued to call out his name. Kakashi insistently continued to mind his own business. It was clear that neither of them were going to cave, and so, things came to a head when the teacher finally lost his patience and daringly inserted himself into Kakashi's personal space bubble.

"Kakashi-sensei!" the bothersome man tried again, falling into step with him.

Kakashi sighed and peered at him over his book. "Did you want something… ah… Daichi?"

The man's left eyebrow was twitching. "That's not even close! It's Iruka!" 'It's-Iruka' took a steadying breath. "And yes."

Kakashi inspected his nails. "Hm. Terribly sorry, but there's just this manicure appointment I have to get to, so–"

"Nice, then we can talk." Iruka said, smiling at him cheerfully.

Kakashi wondered whether it was too late to make a run for it. Just in case, he began searching for viable escape routes.

Iruka, once again undeterred by Kakashi's rudeness, bulldozed on. "So, I heard Naruto didn't pass the first stage of the exam… Hm, I wonder who had predicted exactly  that  would happen."

There seemed to be no easy escape routes, Kakashi concluded forlornly – and puffing away might escalate things. He was pulled out of his contemplative pondering by Iruka's expectant stare.

"Hm… Sorry. Did you say something?"

Iruka sucked in a calming breath and gave Kakashi a smile that could cut diamonds. "I said: Naruto didn't pass the first stage of the exam… just like I told you he wouldn't, because he wasn't ready. Kakashi-sensei."

Oh, so he was good at the passive-aggressive politeness thing. Kakashi scratched his head. Well, unfortunately for the man, outside of missions, Kakashi almost always defaulted to plain rude. "Maa. Yes, consider it rubbed in. Hm. Though my caring sensei senses can't help but notice…" Kakashi paused to relish in the man's twitching eyebrows, "has it slipped your mind that I have three of your students on my team? Even if Naruto talks for the four of us. Yet you only seem to care about the one."

As expected, Iruka was flustered by Kakashi's frontal attack and scratched his neck in embarrassment. "Ah, of course. I care about all three of them – I do! But I guess I'm just… I'm more concerned about Naruto, is all." He suddenly seemed to get reacquainted with his backbone, brown eyes hardening. "After all, someone  has  to be." He looked at Kakashi significantly.

"Mmm."

"So? Chunin exams," Iruka forged on. "What happened?"

"Morino Ibiki happened."

"I guess that's unlucky," the chunin conceded. "But. I still stand by what I said: they weren't ready!"

"Maa, Daiki. No need to be loud."

"It's Iruka!" snapped the teacher, rolling his eyes so hard that Kakashi feared for their continued well-being. "But I'm not here just to rub in that I was right."

"Color me surprised."

Iruka's eyebrow twitched tellingly. "Kakashi-sensei, you're worse than some of my six-year-olds."

"Hmm," said Kakashi with a smile. "I've been called hip and youthful on occasion."

Iruka sighed, clearly fed up. "Look, Kakashi-sensei, I'm not trying to pry, but shouldn't you be with your team right now? I mean, things must be tense after yesterday. Don't you think you should be doing some damage control?"

To Iruka's horror upon looking back at the infuriating man, he found that Kakashi was, yet again, immersed in his book.

"Kakashi-sensei!"

"Ma, ma. Don't worry, Denki. I have a plan."

"It's – oh, never mind. Whatever it is, that plan had better be good."

"Ah, of course. After all, I've been thinking it trough for the past five hours."

Iruka sighed, somewhat placated.

"May I ask what it is?" he said sheepishly. "Your plan, I mean."

Kakashi shrugged. "Maa… it's simple." He glanced at his imaginary watch. "My master plan… is being five hours late."

"What?"

"Give or take. Might as well make it seven, since it's the lucky number."

" WHAT?! "

"Shhh, you're disturbing the pedestrians, Daichi."

The pedestrians, my foot!

Iruka was staring brokenly at Kakashi, his mouth opening and closing at irregular intervals. "But… why?" he asked faintly.

"Hm? It encourages team bonding."

"It encourages your genin to hate you!"

"Ah, ah, but aren’t those one and the same? Any common ground is an improvement."

"Kakashi-sensei, you can't be serious–! Hey, come back here, we're not done yet!"

---

 

Due to Kakashi’s kindness on the day of the disaster, as Sakura had dubbed it, she’d decided to be more understanding of her sensei’s… quirks. After waiting in stiff silence for seven hours, however, seven hours in which Naruto and Sasuke got "along" as they usually did while Sakura was left out pretending to find birds interesting… well. Could you blame a girl for flipping her lid?

And so, when Kakashi finally made an appearance, Sakura didn't even deign his presence with an angry shout. She was  that  mad.

And yet there Kakashi was, crouched casually upon the bridge railing, looking flippant as ever in all his unfashionably late glory.

"Good morning, guys…"

"YOU'RE LATE!" Naruto shouted in outrage. And was Sakura the only one who noticed how different it sounded when it wasn't both of them saying it?

"Well?" Kakashi's voice brought her back to the present. "Don't you want to get started on some nice, fluffy D-ranks?"

"No way!" Naruto interjected. "You promised yesterday that you would train us!"

"I did?"

"Yes," Sasuke said emphatically. "Don't back down now, Kakashi."

"Ma…" the jonin glanced around, unenthusiastic. "And here I was looking forward to rescuing baby kittens from puddles."

Surprisingly enough, Kakashi for once kept his promise to train team seven, even if by "train" he understood "read a book while telling team 7 to mind their own business". But at any rate, he didn't force them on any D-ranks, so there was that.

Soon enough, Naruto and Sasuke were wrapped up in a furious spar, making a huge fuss that could probably be heard from the other end of the village. Meanwhile, Sakura stood awkwardly to the side and shuffled her manicured feet. She considered asking Kakashi to train her, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. She was well aware of the fact that, even if by some miracle he agreed to train with her, she'd just end up embarrassing herself in front of her teammates. No, she would not risk it. Instead, she pulled out her notepad and started working on improving the performance of some of the exams’ projectile motion calculations. At that, at least, she was good.

Around noon, team 7 took a break to eat, then went back to training. (Lunch had been even worse than training, because Sakura had lacked a notepad to hide behind. Fortunately, they had eaten quickly. Unfortunately, training after lunch was the same as before.)

At some point, she couldn't keep pretending to be busy anymore. She was done. She had solved the problem ages ago, then checked over everything to make sure she was right. Now she was stuck staring at birds again. Ugh.

Sakura sighed, chancing a glance at her teammates. They were too wrapped up in each other to pay her any attention.

"Hmmm." She startled. Up on the napping tree, as Sakura had dubbed it, Kakashi had apparently woken up and was now giving her a droll stare. "Sakura-chan, mind if I read that?”

“Um.” Sakura stood there flummoxed. “Sure.”

Then she proceeded to stare at her sensei, who stared back, equally awkward. Suddenly, he straightened and… nonchalantly strolled down the tree. Somehow, he made the action seem weirder than the usual kind of weird. Then, Kakashi picked up her pink notebook and flipped trough it, settling on the last page.

He spent a good five minutes reading trough everything, and, when he looked up, his eyes had quirked into a smile.

"This looks promising."

Sakura, who had sat down, looked at him with surprise. "Really?"

"Maa. When do I ever lie to you?"

Best not answer that , she thought. "Promising…" she asked hopefully, "as in, like the ANBU captain kind of promising?"

"Ah, well," Kakashi scratched his chin, "you're not quite there yet, Sakura-chan."

She frowned. "I meant theoretically."

"Mmm. But Sakura. There's no point to theory without practical application, ne?"

Sakura pouted. Didn't he realize how impossible his demands were?

"Sensei, to apply all of this, I'd need to be able to measure distances and angles with my bare eyes and in seconds flat.  Then  calculate everything. And I'd need perfect aim."

"Maaaa… if you put it like that… well, I suppose it's true enough." He returned the book to her. “Time to work on your aim, ne?"

Say what? Have you lost all your marbles, Sensei?

“ Even if my aim was better, I’d still need to be able to measure things on a single glance.”

"And?” Kakashi said distractedly.

“What do you mean ‘and’?!”

The man scratched his head lazily. “Ma, it's not usual, Sakura-chan, but depending on their specialty, some ninja are capable of measuring distances with great accuracy. It's a hard skill to learn, but for a paper ninja, it's a good skill to have."

Sakura stopped short. "You mean… does that mean… you'll teach me?"

"'fraid not. That's something you have to figure out yourself," she gave him an incredulous look, "just like any ninja worth their salt." Sakura was still gaping at him ten seconds later, but Kakashi seemed largely unfazed, waving cheerily. "Ja, then I'm counting on you!" And then he poofed away.

Feeling completely floored, Sakura glared at the spot he'd disappeared from.

Typical. He was such an antisocial weirdo, making crazy demands and actually expecting her to just… go along with his insanity.

Somehow, that very insanity had cheered her up.

It's nice to be believed in , Sakura wrote in her diary that night.   Even if that person is   somewhat insane.

 

---

The next day, Sakura arrived at their usual bridge bright and early – and with measuring tools. (Yes, she was now part of the insanity. So sue her.)

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto called out as soon as she was in sight. "You didn't tell us Kakashi-sensei left yesterday!"

Sakura gasped, surprised. She'd had so much on her mind that she'd forgotten and left her teammates there without warning them that Kakashi had left. "Sorry," she said a bit uncertainly. Somehow, her knee-jerk reaction of calling Naruto an idiot for not noticing didn't feel right anymore. "Uh, so how did your spar go?"

Naruto grinned. "I kicked some serious butt yesterday! Sakura-chan, you should've seen it!"

"Tch. In your dreams, usuratonkachi." Sasuke scowled.

"Haah? I totally did, Sasuke!"

"As if–"

"I did!"

And before she knew it, the two had started arguing loudly and shoving one another about. At some point, Naruto tripped and fell into the water, yelling at Sasuke and then blaming his predicament on Kakashi's habitual tardiness. It was nice. Sakura couldn't help but smile to herself. Sasuke may not have looked at her at all, but her conversation with Naruto had cheered her up. Without thinking much about it, she pulled out her ruler and began to measure the objects around her, then tried to estimate it in her mind without the ruler, and so on and so forth.

It was slow-going, tedious work.

Unsurprisingly, Sakura's mood had dampened significantly after a while of mind-numbing measuring exercises, but what have you. It was still slightly better than the previous day. Kakashi eventually arrived, (along with his bland as aver: "good morning, guys") and then team seven proceeded to rinse and repeat everything they'd done the day before.

The pattern changed after lunch. Sakura had been in the middle of sighing for the umpteenth time (while memorizing a cosine chart), when she happened to look up, and Kakashi was crouched inches from her. She managed to suppress a horrified screech, but only just.

"Sensei!" Sakura gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "You startled me."

"What can I say? I'm stealthy like that." He stared at her for a moment, seemingly gouging something. "Ma, Sakura-chan, I was wondering… could you do me a favor?"

"A favor?" Sakura frowned. "What is it?"

"…take my dogs for a walk."

"Excuse me?"

"My dogs. You know, cute, squeezable balls of fur?"

Sakura had seen those cute balls of fur capture a raging psychopath and draw blood with those knives they called fangs. To be fair, she was more than a little intimidated.

"Ugh… can't they walk themselves?"

"Mou, Sakura-chan, you're entirely missing the point."

"What point?"

"You see, they have this bad habit of not returning when they go for walks."

"That reminds me of someone." She looked at him pointedly.

"Hm, does it really?"

"Yes. He has the nasty habit of making us wait, like, five hours every morning."

"Must be a real jackass, Sakura. Tell him I don't approve."

Sakura giggled. "I have a feeling he wouldn't be offended."

"That's typical jerk behavior for you." Kakashi nodded knowingly. "So… about my dogs…?"

"You want me to supervise them?" Sakura asked. They were probably, no, certainly more capable at the whole ninja business than her.

"Ah, yes. You see…" Kakashi clutched at his heart. "I can't trust anyone else with the job."

"Not even your shadow clone?"

"Especially not my shadow clone." Kakashi shuddered. "So, what do you say?"

Sakura pressed her lips together. Her knee-jerk reaction was to call bullshit. Those dogs could damn well walk themselves. But on the other hand, she'd been sitting around all day, feeling left out. Taking a relaxing walk might be just what she needed. Besides, Kakashi's dogs were ninken, ninja summons which had been trained rigorously no doubt, so what could go wrong?

"Alright, sensei. But only because you invited me to tea the other day."

"Ah, yes." Kakashi gave her a head-pat. Then, without fanfare, he summoned his ninken. "Make sure to bring them back here by seven!"

---

As it turned out, a lot could go wrong when Kakashi's ninken were involved. When Sakura returned to the training ground, it was nine, dark – and thank god for that because she was covered in grime and grass stains. Naruto and Sasuke had left, but Kakashi was still there, reading his book, for a change.

"Sakura, you're late."

Sakura would've probably called him out on his hypocrisy, but she didn't have the energy. Those damned dogs had ran her ragged just trying to keep up. It was horrible. She'd effectively ruined her dress, not to mention her muscles would be sore tomorrow for sure.

"Sakura-chan…?"

Tiredly, Sakura walked up to her stuff, which was where she'd left it two hours ago, grabbed her bag, and, completely ignoring Kakashi, left the training ground.

---

The next day, Sakura decided that walking Kakashi's dogs had been horrible enough that he owed her a favor. Kakashi insisted that he didn't.

"Ma, Sakura-chan. I sacrificed one of my precious coupons for you. That's at least worth three days of walking my dogs."

Sakura glanced around shiftily, making sure that Sasuke couldn't see what she was about to do. He was busy spitting fire at Naruto, so Sakura decided it was safe for her to let her inner real self rear its uncouth head. "That's… sensei, that's such  bullshit !" Wow, cussing felt awesome.

Kakashi's lone eye widened comically for all of one second, before he replied with: "Sakura-chan, you can't tell me you don't find them cute at least?"

"Cute? My dress was cute! Those… those demons are the furthest thing from cute!"

"Don't be like that, now."

"Like what?" she raged loudly. "Angry because my dress was irreparably destroyed? If anyone owes anyone anything, it's you who owes me for property damage!"

"Uhh…" Kakashi's eyes were wide as saucers. "I'm sorry about your dress," he said lamely.

"Hmp." Sakura sniffed. "You owe me now, Sensei."

"Right…" said Kakashi.

"You do!"

Kakashi sighed. "Ma… you shouldn't put so much strain upon your poor sensei, Sakura-chan."

"My favorite. Dress. Is.  Ruined ."

Kakashi gulped, then smiled uneasily. "Alright, alright. Sensei owes you a favor. A small favor."

"Hmp. It's the least you could do after unleashing those beasts upon me."

Kakashi frowned. "Show some respect, Sakura-chan. They're too awesome to be 'just' beasts. A little creative nicknaming is the least you could do."

"Fine. Those demons you call dogs."

"Better, but not by much. I call them–"

"Sensei. My favor."

"Er. Right. Ah…" Kakashi paused. "What do I owe you?"

Sakura smirked, looking pointedly at his mask.

"No."

"You said a small favor–"

"Not happening."

Sakura sighed, already knowing that it was a lost cause. It had been worth a shot. "Um, in that case… you have to teach me how to measure things from afar – quickly."

"Uh…"

"I'm serious!"

"You know, Sakura-chan, I have the sharingan, so… I don't know any other methods."

Sakura frowned. That was so unfair. Why did her family have to be some unknown clan of civilians? Why couldn't  she  have the sharingan?

"Ma, Sakura-chan, don't give me that look. I'll try to think of something."

Sakura blinked. Then, a huge smile crept unto her lips. "Really?"

"No promises, but I'll do my best."

"Sensei, thank you! Thank you so much!"

"…do you really mean that?" the man questioned. She nodded her head happily, but stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing the strange gleam in Kakashi's eye. "In that case," said he, "you can start thanking me by walking my dogs every morning."

Sakura's smile vanished. "No way!"

"Yes way."

"You can't make me do that!"

"Hmm… You're right," said Kakashi. "I can't make you. But if you want me to look into a way to help you out…" He raised his eyebrows significantly.

That. Absolute. Menace.

Sakura glared at him for a few minutes, but it was pointless. She could tell she'd lost.

"I don't even have a choice, do I?" she groused. 

"Nope," chirped Kakashi. "You can start tomorrow morning."

It would be a long week, she could tell.

---

Days passed where Sakura would walk Kakashi’s dogs in the early mornings and nurse her bruises whilst staring at birds during training time. It would’ve been more boring if not for the growing suspicion in her gut in regard to those birds...

It had started with the odd crow that was there every morning. The more Sakura stared at it, the more she found that, for a bird, it sure was interested in what team seven was up to.

Every day, the crow would stare at them with keen, black eyes, which, Sakura felt, bellied an eerie intelligence. Like clockwork, it would show up every morning without fail… Not just at the training ground, but often she saw it at the red bridge whilst they waited for Kakashi too, which was more than a little suspicious. In fact, by the time Sakura made it to their usual meeting point, it was almost always there, perched on a rooftop nearby, watching. More suspicious yet was that it often disappeared for a while whenever Kakashi finally arrived.

Could it be…? Sakura felt excitement bubbling up in her gut. Could it be that the bird was a spy? And she, Sakura, was the only one who had ‘looked underneath the underneath’ and noticed? The prospect of unmasking some secret operation was very exciting. But it would be rather pointless if no one was there to take notice of her amazing achievement, so Sakura took it upon herself to inform Kakashi.

“Kakashi-sensei!” she resolutely called out during training. “I have something I need to tell you.”

Kakashi dropped down from his usual spot – aka napping tree – and looked at her expectantly. “Something you need to tell me? Hm, I’m all ears.” This was underlined by the book he was still peering into.

“I’d appreciate if you were all eyes too, sensei,” quipped Sakura. “This is important.” Automatically, she had lowered her voice conspiratorially, not sure if the crow could hear them from its perch on a tree on the other end of the training ground.

Noticing her tone, Kakashi finally glanced at her and wisely intoned: “a good ninja is always all eyes.”

Sakura’s eyebrow twitched. “You must be an amazing ninja then.” He was reading his damn book again!

“Ma, Sakura-chan. I’ll get a big head if you keep complimenting me like that.”

“Maybe you should get a hairbrush then!”

“My hair style choices are fine.”

“At defying gravity maybe,” Sakura glowered. “But that’s actually not the important thing I had to tell you.”

“Do enlighten me then.” Kakashi told her, passing a page of his book... and was he blushing at it?

That absolute pervert…! Sakura thought with vexation. I'll never trust him with anything again unless we're in a life or death situation!

She did, however, proceed to tell him her suspicions in regard to the crow and even outlined a few theories that could possibly explain its odd behavior. (She left out the one in which Sasuke had a special pheromone that attracted birds, or her theory that his hair looked so much like a crow’s behind that the birds thought he was mating material… she was still embarrassed at her brain for having come up with that one.)

“Ah,” Kakashi remarked drolly when she was done. She waited with baited breath, but nothing else came forth. Had he paid no attention at all? Cha, that absolute jerk!

Sakura was so offended by this that the part of her that usually wouldn't never dream of disrespecting a teacher was thrown out of the window.

“That’s all?” she snapped angrily. “’Ah’? Don’t you care at all that a crow is stalking us? Sensei, I’m telling you, that bird is bad news! If psychopaths could be birds, then this one would be one!”

“That’s nice.”

Sakura flushed out of anger. “Sensei!”

“Ma… Sakura-chan. I believe you.”

Wait, what?

“Really?” Sakura asked hopefully.

Her teacher nodded wisely. “Ma, ma, of course. Crows are omens of death, everybody knows that. Just this morning I saw one and was forced to make a detour.”

“Sensei, I’m being serious!”

“Hmm, so am I. These crows must be conspiring to make me late. Tough, isn’t it?”

“Sensei!” Sakura was practically screeching. “That’s such bullshit!” She was so loud, that every single being within the training ground turned to stare at her.

“Heck yeah!” Naruto cheered. "I dunno what you're talkin' about but you rock, Sakura-chan!"

Kakashi chuckled at them. No one was taking her seriously!

That’s it, Sakura thought with a huff. I’ve had enough.

She’d take matters into her own hands and find out what the deal with that crow was. Hopefully it would turn out that she was  right and she'd end up unearthing some sort of spy plot within the village... That would teach them.

Chapter 3: Stalker-san

Summary:

Quick note: the beginning of MTE is very humorous in general. If you're not here for the lighthearted fluff, then just saying that things get serious in the chapters with more ominous titles.

That evening, Haruno Sakura prepared to set her plan into motion… thereby derailing the course of history for a second time.

 

“Listen up, demon spawns!” The many dogs scuttling about around her snapped to attention. And for once, the sausages which Sakura had previously bought were enough for them to remain attentive. Pleased with her success, Sakura harrumphed importantly. “You can track, can't you? Well, whoever leads me to the crow which has been spying on team seven… gets these!” She waved the sausages around.

The leader of the gaggle of demons, Pakkun, or as Sakura called him, the gremlin, walked toward her. “Look, Floral-green–”

Sakura cut him off indignantly: “I told you to stop calling me that! I am not a hair conditioner, thank you very much.”

Another dog, Ūhei, piped up: “Don’t worry, Floral-green. Pakkun uses the floral green hair conditioner too! The nickname's high praise.”

“I still don’t want you to refer to me like I’m a hair product,” she deadpanned.

“Then what do we call you, Floral-green?” asked the gremlin.

“I don’t know," she snapped. "How about by my actual name?”

As usual, she was ignored.

“I say we call her Greeny and leave it at that!” some bright soul suggested (Sakura thought his name might be Bisuke).

Then she processed his suggestion and nodded. Hm. Actually, Greeny was kind of sweet… “Oh, I like it. Bisuke, did you suggest Greeny as a way to pay homage to my eye color?” Sakura had to admit, she was kind of flattered. Bisuke, she decided, was the cutest of Kakashi’s pack.

“Naw,” yipped Bisuke. “It’s like floral green, but shorter.”

That little shit…! Sakura took it back. He wasn’t cute. He was the dog equivalent of Ino-pig!

 

 

 

 

 

“So, Greeny.” Pakkun visibly took pleasure in her misery. “You want us to track a bird for ya. Hm, well ya better make it worth our while. Those flighty critters ain’t so easy.”

If Sakura had managed to bargain with Kakashi, the stingiest person she knew, she wasn’t about to let a frigging mutt  outsmart her. “Listen up, demon spawn,” she said decisively. “I have twenty-four sausages right here. You hear that?  Twenty freaking four.  That’s three for each of you. More than enough.  But if you’re not interested…”

It took her a while, but finally the dogs agreed to her price. And so, Sakura accompanied them to the tree where the crow had been alighted all day (whereupon she discovered with some shock that the ninken could all tree-walk like nobody’s business) and then they were off.

 

It was maybe forty minutes into their search that the dogs stopped running amok. Sakura, who could barely breathe after the frantic sprint they’d put her through, was finally able to catch her breath, and took a look around. She wasn’t sure where Kakashi’s ninken had lead her… it was a forest, that much was clear, but that wasn’t saying much, considering that Konoha was surrounded by woodland on all sides. More so: she’d been at more than a few of them (even at the Nara forest, which was usually off limits for non-clan members) but this particular forest, she thought, was neither of them.

“Hey, Greeny,” Pakkun’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “There’s a human up ahead. He smells strongly like a crow. I’m guessing this is what you wanted us to find?”

Sakura nodded. This was getting a little too real for comfort. With a sigh, she pulled out her alarm clock and delayed the ringing time to way past the ten minute mark. She had brought the device hoping that, if something happened to her during her excursion, the loud ringing that would eventually go off would act like an SOS signal and summon help. Five minutes of nonstop ringing at maximum power should do, she figured. But before getting started, Sakura still had a bargain to uphold, so without further ado, she retrieved the bag containing the promised sausages and handed it to Pakkun wordlessly.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Greeny,” said the gremlin. “We’re off then.”

And without further ado, the dogs poofed away, leaving a large cloud of smoke in their stead. Once the smoke had cleared, Sakura discovered, much to her (terrified) surprise, that Bull – yes, the large, imposing bulldog – was still present. Alone. With her. In the middle of a strange forest.

“Uhh… I’m sorry Bull-san,” Sakura sputtered timidly. “I don’t have any more sausages.”

To her dismay, Bull just stared at her through his big, round eyes – and then, out of nowhere, gave her a sloppy kiss on the nose.

“Eep!” Sakura worked to contain a horrified screech, yet was largely unsuccessful. Great. Stealth operation status? Ruined. But more pressingly – Sakura’s face status? Covered in slobber. Unfortunately, she didn’t have anything to clean it up with…

It was in such a state – with grime-covered clothes and a face full of slobber, whilst being trailed by a dog almost larger than her – that Sakura emerged from the treeline. The forest had parted to reveal a beautiful, large lake, its waters tranquil and azure. In the very middle of the lake stood a person. They were standing on top of the water like it was a side thought, noted Sakura with amazement, lost in contemplation of something which Sakura could not see. They had a long, inky ponytail and a strange… dress? (Or was it a cloak?) which was black with an imprint of red clouds and long, flowing sleeves that ought to be a nightmare to eat soup in.

For a moment, Sakura stood there, staring at the stranger.

So this is team seven’s stalker, huh? she concluded.

As though having heard her thoughts, the stalker turned the slightest bit, onyx black eyes flitting to her briefly. Sakura startled. It was barely a glance… but she suddenly felt like a deer caught in headlights. Though, for a stalker, the stranger sure was uninterested in her presence. But what if it was all an act? The stranger could water-walk, hinting at being a shinobi…

Wait just a second. A shinobi?!

Well shit. Sakura should’ve seen that one coming. She really should’ve. In fact, someone should give her an award for stupidity or something. Thanks to it, this potentially dangerous shinobi now knew that Sakura was there. Oh god. How could she have been so stupid? This person ad stalked her for who knows how long and she’d thought to… what? Invite them for tea? Shit. Shit. Shit. Well. At least she had a murderous dog on her side… right? Bull was on her side, right?

Sakura sighed. Would a dog even be enough? She thought for a moment, recalling Bull’s active participation in the fight against Zabuza. The thought was enough to return some of her confidence. She had Kakashi’s strongest ally by her side: she’d be fine. More so if she managed to pretend like her being right here, right now, was a coincidence. But how? She thought frantically. Quick, Sakura, what do genin   usually go to lakes for?

She looked around for something to do. Wait. Suddenly struck by inspiration, Sakura decided to speak up.

Loudly, so that the stalker would hear, she said: “Look, Bull-san, this is the perfect place to practice some water-walking, don’t you think? Ahahah…” then she weakly made her way toward the lake. She could just “practice” for a few minutes and then leave, right? Afterwards, she could warn Kakashi about their stalker. Sakura mentally patted her shoulder. It was a sound plan.

Meanwhile, Bull merely stared at her and eagerly drooled on the grass. Sakura ignored such grossness in favor of taking note of her surroundings.

There! That was an ideal place to practice water-walking. She had spotted an old boardwalk wich went straight into the lake, stopping a few paces within the water. Attempting to look like she knew what she was doing, Sakura strode toward it, until she was standing on its wooden edge of the boardwalk, and then sat down upon it, staring into the blue water with trepidation.

Tree walking had taken a lot of concentration… would water-walking be even harder? Hesitantly, Sakura lowered her feet unto the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Sakura could barely imagine the idea of walking upon it, but she had to try. The stalker couldn’t suspect she was half-assing her training, as it’d be a surefire sign that something was up. So Sakura concentrated on blanketing chakra over her feet, which dangled over the water. After a few minutes had passed, she felt confident in her ability to adapt to the currents, so she carefully lowered the rest of her body down into the water, standing upon it precariously. A few minutes more and she felt a little more confident, a little more daring. And so, it came to be that Sakura slowly let go of the wooden plank she’d been clinging to. And then it hit her.

She’d done it. She was standing on the water – all on her own merit. The prospect of being able to walk on water was somehow so exciting, that Sakura sort of forgot about her side-quest.

“Kyaaa! This is awesome!” Carefully, she jumped, managing to land on the water again. “Yepee!” Sakura couldn’t help but laugh out loud in elation. She was doing it! She was doing it!

It was in such a fashion that Sakura had been frolicking about at, maybe ten meters from the shore, when it happened. A piercing alarm rung suddenly, cutting through the silence like an enraged banshee.

The whole thing was so startling that Sakura momentarily lost control of her chakra and consequently plunged straight into the water with a shriek. The cold shock of it had her squeaking again, though she quickly closed her mouth once it started filling with water. By the time Sakura had managed to resurface, spitting water everywhere, and finally finished rubbing the wetness off her eyes, the ringing had stopped. Distantly, she realized that it had been her stupid alarm clock. Of course it had. But when Sakura opened her eyes, she was greeted by a sight that sent her straight into another fright.

There, crouching upon the water mere inches away, was the stalker – holding aloft the aforementioned alarm clock as though it were a strange object not to be trusted… the alarm clock, which, Sakura noticed with dismay, had a shuriken poking out of it.

Her reaction may have been slightly delayed (Sakura was blaming it on the shock) but no less potent:

“GAAAAAHHHHHH!” To say that her subsequent screech could be heard from Suna would be an understatement.

As she screeched, the stalker looked at Sakura, and Sakura looked at the stalker.

She cataloged delicate features, a long ponytail and even longer eyelashes – this she noted with some jealousy – and two stress marks that looked almost like tear tracks, one on either side of the face. Hm. In short, whoever this woman was, she didn’t look all that dangerous, Sakura concluded. Which is why she next said:

“Stalker-san, you destroyed my alarm clock.”

The stalker looked back at her frayed alarm clock, seeming to come to the conclusion that yes, it was irreparably damaged. Almost gingerly, the strange woman retrieved the shuriken embedded into the alarm clock and pocketed it. Everything about her movements was precise, like a surgeon brandishing a scalpel. To be fair, the careful attentions looked very weird in the face of her pink, bunny-themed alarm clock.

“What?” said Sakura, miffed. “Did you think my alarm clock was a bomb or something?”

Here Stalker-san looked slightly sheepish, so Sakura assumed that she’d hit the nail on the dot with her accusation. “You know,” said Sakura smartly, “Kakashi-sensei always tells us to look underneath the underneath, but I think you took it a bit too far, huh?”

At the mention of Kakashi, Stalker-san seemed to perk up. Sakura couldn’t say how she knew, there were no outward tells, but she still got that impression.

“You know Kaka-sensei?” she asked curiously.

Stalker-san looked at her blankly, though Sakura chose to interpret the non-expression as surprise. Like a deer caught in headlights becoming paralyzed. And suddenly it came to her:

“You’re Kaka-sensei’s fangirl, aren’t you?” she exclaimed triumphantly.

It all made sense to her: the stalking, the crows and most of all, Stalker-san’s reactions just now. Yep. Sakura had been a fangirl long enough to recognize the tells. Besides, Stalker-san looked a bit too old to have a crush on Sasuke-kun – thank god – so it was bound to be Kakashi.

Meanwhile, Stalker-san had leaned back slightly, as though she might be contagious, and was giving her an aghast expression. Or as aghast as a telephone post could look, anyway.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” said Sakura reassuringly. “Us fangirls have got to stick together, ne?” And without further ado, she channeled chakra into her hands and, propping herself up upon them, carefully stood back up upon the water.

Meanwhile, Stalker-san looked torn between relief and embarrassment at her declaration, but that was fine. Sakura had been a bit blindsided too when she’d first talked to Ino, but meeting a fellow fangirl had been one of the best things that had happened to her. Her train of thought got derailed when, suddenly, Sakura found a wad of bills being shoved under her nose.

Why was a stranger giving her money? Sakura and the stalker eyed each other. At first she didn’t understand, but then it came to her. Stalker-san was trying to pay for the broken alarm clock. That was… surprisingly thoughtful.

“Uhh… thanks,” said Sakura sincerely.

Stalker-san nodded.

Sakura counted the money. “Uhh… Stalker-san, I’m not sure if this is enough,” she ventured. “But I don’t want you to give me too much, either.” She looked at the ryo uncertainly. “Ne, how about you accompany me to the alarm clock store, Stalker-san?”

The answering uncertain body language said it all. Of course, it wasn’t uncertain as such, more like still. Shinobi weren’t easy to read by any means, but when one had a sensei who only had an eye to communicate (and reason to expect said sensei to pull a fast one any second) one got rather good at reading even the subtlest of tells. Besides which, Sakura had always been a quick study.

Cha! The term paper ninja is starting to sound cool and everything, she thought proudly. But maybe she was getting a little ahead of herself.

“Oh, come on, Stalker-san…!” Sakura tried again. She was just asking for them to go buy an alarm clock together, not requesting to attend to the stalker’s wedding. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’d be unfair to at least one of us if I were to take the money.” Suddenly, inspiration struck. “Oh, I know. Come with me, and I’ll help you get a date with Kaka-sensei!”

Like flipping a switch, Stalker-san went back to looking mortified and even retreated a few steps.

Cha! How shy, thought inner Sakura. This was so precious!

“Or maybe not,” she amended quickly. “But I can tell you stuff about Kaka-sensei while we buy the alarm clock if you want. That way you won’t have to stalk him all the time!”

Stalker-san had gone back to giving Sakura an unreadable look, and it was around this time that Sakura realized that the strange woman hadn’t said a single word yet.

That’s weird. Is Stalker-san mute? It was a possibility, but then again, Sakura could remember with clarity how, as a small child, she’d barely spoken either, and it had been by choice. Kind of. And social anxiety.

“Ne, come on, Stalker-san,” Sakura encouraged. “The alarm clock shop is in the civilian district. The odds of meeting Kaka-sensei there are slim to none, so you don’t have to be self-conscious!”

Stalker-san still looked wary, but finally retrieved a straw hat from the bulky… cloak? Dress? Whatever – and donned it with a strange sort of flair. At any rate, the hat covered Stalker-san’s features, hiding the pretty eyelashes in a way that absolutely wouldn’t do if Stalker-san was to ever woo Kakashi. Sakura shook her head in dismay. Oh, well. She’d see what she could do.

Already, she felt sympathy for Stalker-san. More than anyone, she could sympathize with the plight of a devoted fangirl, especially when the object of one’s devotion was a jerk who read porn in public.

But, minding her manners, Sakura said none of this out loud. She did care about Kakashi-sensei, after all, so she wasn’t about to push away his one admirer. No. Instead, she told Stalker-san all about team seven’s bell test, making sure to highlight all the parts in which Kakashi had done something especially cool.

“So Naruto fell for Kakashi-sensei’s carefully laid out trap, but let’s be honest, the moron never stood a chance. I mean – Sasuke-kun managed to touch a bell, yes, but only because Sasuke-kun is… exceptional,” Sakura sighed dreamily, “but Kakashi-sensei is exceptional too, of course!” Exceptionally late, but semantics. “Anyway, I get the feeling that Kaka-sensei wanted revenge later on, because he used the head-hunter jutsu and trapped Sasuke-kun in a hole like it was nothing.”

At this, Stalker-san’s lip quirked minutely, which Sakura took to mean that her story was a raging success. She carried on excitedly:

“He gave me the scare of a lifetime, mind! But that’s not Sasuke-kun’s fault. I mean, I was just walking around, minding my own business, you know? And then, suddenly I see Sasuke-kun’s head, without his body, poking out of the earth. Aargh! Can you blame a girl for nearly having a heart attack?” Stalker-san gave her an understanding shake of the head, so Sakura continued, pleased with her audience. “I’ll say, that was a nasty surprise. Not good for one’s blood pressure…” Sakura was in the middle of her rant, when a voice distracted her.

“Sakura-chan! Over here!”

“Huh?” Sakura turned, her eyes landing on a street vendor who was friends with her parents.

“Shiemi-oba-san!” she cheered. Then, turning toward her company: “Ne, Stalker-san, let’s go greet Shiemi-oba-san!”

Without further prompting, Sakura ran off to talk with the woman (who had a history of gifting her treats for free) with Bull and Stalker-san in tow. Once again, Shiemi-oba-san didn’t disappoint and gifted Sakura a few of her favorite sweets (green tea mochi) after some small talk. She also gave some to Stalker-san, seeing as ‘your friend is staring my goodies down like a man starving, Sakura’.

“Sta – my friend would be a woman starving, oba-san,” Sakura had felt obligated to correct, to which Stalker-san had twitched slightly. The poor thing, thought Sakura. But truly, what did Stalker-san expect? With fashion choices like that, of course some people were bound to think she was a guy! Though Sakura had to admit, Stalker-san did look a bit androgynous.

At any rate, after bidding the vendor goodbye, Sakura and company had tracked down a bench upon which to eat the obtained sweets, seeing as it wasn’t very polite to go into a shop with food, even if it sold bunny-themed alarm clocks.

So for a while, Sakura was distracted by Bull, who was trying to snatch up a treat from her. (For some reason, he didn’t even attempt to steal from Stalker-san, much to Sakura’s increasing dismay.)

“Bull-san, I’m trying to eat here! Besides, sugar is bad for dogs!”

Bull’s replying tackle said exactly what he thought about that.

“Bull-san, no!” Sakura’s ninja reflexes were about the only thing that saved her mochi from a terrible fate, and that small success, she thought forlornly, had been largely due to Bull’s laziness. Because she’d seen him in action during the Wave mission, and that dog could move. When he wanted to, of course.

That was about the time Bull had decided that if he couldn’t obtain the direct source, he’d just get it second-hand. Literally. Without warning, the bulldog started licking off the sugar left off on Sakura’s hand, taking the entire thing into his massive maw in one swoop – effectively getting even more slobber over her. Eep! Sakura tried to repress a shiver, not wanting to offend Bull, but judging by the amused look Stalker-san was shooting her, she could tell that she wasn’t being very successful. Stalker-san even had the gall to look even more amused at her fury.

“Stop that!” Even if ‘that’ was just looking at her. “This isn’t funny!” Sakura exclaimed hotly. “Stalker-san, how am I supposed to eat my mochi now? All this slobber can’t be sanitary.”

Stalker-san’s reply was in the form of the fastest hand-signs Sakura had seen since wave, and a resulting bubble of water that floated upon Stalker-san’s suddenly extended palm. Sakura stared at it with large eyes. “Woah… is that…?”

Stalker-san nodded, so Sakura held out her slobbery hand. With a graceful flick of the wrist, Stalker-san carefully tipped the bubble of water over Sakura’s slob-covered appendage. It was with shock that Sakura noticed the water’s temperature was extra hot, making the cleansing process easier.

“That’s perfect, thank you!” She hadn’t been able to use soap, but Iruka-sensei had remarked often enough that they should thank their lucky stars to find some clean water when out in the field, if that. So never mind the soap.

Once again, Stalker-san nodded, and proceeded to scratch Bull behind the ears, the barest hint of a fond smile replacing the previous blank expression. For someone who was barely more expressive than a telephone post, this was a major achievement. Sakura grinned. Stalker-san must really like animals! Perhaps seducing Kakashi wouldn’t be so hard if his dogs were seduced first.

But, just as she was thinking this, Sakura noticed with some dismay that Stalker-san hadn’t touched the sweets at all, and after petting Bull, had returned to staring at them very attentively, though without making any attempts to eat them. It was strange. Stalker-san was looking at the green tea mochi with a gaze appropriate only for dissecting tables.

Sakura frowned. “Are you on a diet, Stalker-san?” she inquired. “Technically, I am as well, but Kakashi-sensei’s ninken have been running me so ragged lately that I feel like I’m entitled to a cheat day. Besides,” she added, remembering Kakashi’s words. “Stuff tastes better when it’s free, don’t you think?”

When Stalker-san still hadn’t eaten anything and was still staring at the mochi as though in fear of food poisoning, Sakura spoke up: “You know, if you aren’t going to eat those…”

Her words seemed to have lit a fire under Stalker-san’s underside, for one second all the sweets were there, and the next second, not so much.

Sakura stared at the vacant spot in shock. She’d only seen one other person make food vanish so fast… and that was Kakashi-sensei himself. Okay, she could kind of see where the romance was coming from. In a creepy kind of way.

“Did you just… stash those mochi in your cloak?” Sakura asked surreptitiously. Yes, Stalker-san was chewing on one, but she was pretty sure that bulge in the weird-looking cloak hadn’t been there before. Next to her, Stalker-san had a look of utter bliss, apparently due to the influence of the mochi.

(Sakura would’ve been annoyed, except she couldn’t stay annoyed at such a peaceful expression.)

Huh… Looks like Shiemi-oba-san just got a new client.

After that, things went smoothly. Sakura got a new alarm clock, or rather, Stalker-san did, Sakura said thank you, and they both went their separate ways. It was, to say the least, an eventful evening.

What a strange person…  Sakura thought afterwards, as she was walking home. Bull had poofed away after Stalker-san left and she’d gotten him an extra sausage as a thank you for his moral support. Strangely, the dog’s previously intimidating presence had really put Sakura at ease by the end of the evening, even though Stalker-san hadn’t turned out to be a threat at all. Just a fangirl with a crush. Sakura couldn’t in good conscience tell Kakashi now. No, that would be breaking the fangirl code.  But , she thought with relish,  no one said I can’t play wingwoman instead.

 

 

Notes:

So. Thoughts? I'm guessing that, whatever they are, you probably hadn't been expecting Itachi and Sakura's first meeting to go like THIS. Well, what can I say? I'm the number one, most unpredictable nin- oh, wait, that title is taken. Whoops, my bad.
Also, as of chapter 33, this fic now officially has fanart not drawn by me! Here is madamvikto's amazing portrayal of Sakura and the ninken!

Chapter 4: Miscommunication

Summary:

Sakura learns some nifty skills, partakes in a kidnapping and gets embarrassed repeatedly. And not necessarily in that order...

Notes:

So. Here we are. I had actually been meaning to only post once a month, since these chapters are pretty long and I'd get more comments that way, but then I was checking out my bookmarks page yesterday, mourning the lack of updates, especially with the confinement situation going on, and I thought to myself... screw it, I'm posting.
Hopefully this will entertain you as it does me ;)

PS. Sakura's age currently is 13, but Itachi assumes she's 12 due to Sasuke's age.

It had been precisely fifty-four months since Itachi had set foot on Konoha soil – fifty-four months into his newest mission, and fifty four-months without seeing his family. Or what was left of it, in any case.

It was precisely on the first day of the fifty-fifth month that Itachi had arrived in Konoha, and a week had passed since then.

He was remembering the letter that had been his last vestige of home, burnt into his retina like few things had ever been. He could recall its contents verbatim, even though the letter had been destroyed long ago.

 

Itachi-kun,

I am sorry to ask yet even more of you – alas, my hands are tied in this matter. You are perfect for this mission. It’s my belief that, should anyone manage to see it through to its successful competition, that will be you.

I know, I know. It may sound truly challenging, but I believe you will rise to the occasion. Spying on the Akatsuki will be no small feat. Due to this, once you have made contact, it will be too risky to continue our communication, so, with a heavy heart, I see myself forced to do this: for your own safety as well as Konoha’s, I forbid you from setting foot in Konoha until such a time where you find yourself free of suspicion. Three years, I gather, will be enough. However, just to be cautious, (and also due to other circumstances which I cannot get into right now) it will have to be five years until our next meeting.

As I am sure you are aware, Konohagakure, Sunagakure, Takigakure and the land of tea are currently on friendly enough terms to host the chunin exams jointly. In five year’s time, it will be Konoha’s turn to host the event, opening our gates to foreigners. 

Enclosed in this sealing scroll is a fake ninja ID which you may use to enter the village. I will settle things before then to allow Tetsuya Akashi passage at this time. 

You may return to Konoha then, and only then – though I would advise great discretion. I will make arrangements to meet with you when the time comes, as well as contact a trustworthy ally who shall hopefully manage communications from there on. As of yet, there are too many variables to consider, so I cannot provide you with a time for our meeting. A place, on the other hand… is doable. I will make sure that my ANBU steer clear from the lake by your clan’s private training grounds during the enclosed timeframe.

Wishing you the best of luck,

S.H.

Sandaime Hokage

 

 

I, Sarutobi Hiruzen, hereby absolve Utachi Uchiha of any and all formal duties as a shinobi of Konohagakure no Sato except for the special mission enclosed in the attached scroll, until the threat at hand be neutralized, his cover revealed, or such a time may come where I invalidate the above mentioned conditions.

 

 

 

Itachi sighed and glanced at the sun. It was time. He could barely believe that the moment had finally come. He could not say when nor how, but one thing was clear: soon, he would be taken to meet with the hokage. It was around then that a crow came sailing through the air, straight toward him. He extended an arm and the crow alighted upon it.

“Itachi-dono,” the bird rasped. “A human approaches.”

“ANBU?” asked Itachi.

“It appears to be your brother’s teammate,” cawed the crow. “I can sense no deception! But things so pink and giggly are often deceptive.”

“I see,” said Itachi. “So it is not the jinchuriki.”

There was a pause, where Itachi strained to sense the incomer’s chakra, at which he was being as of yet unsuccessful.

“Itachi-dono,” the crow piped up suddenly. “There was something else. The girl was not alone – she is accompanied by fourleggeds! Yes, very many of them.”

“There are many four-legged creatures, Karasu.”

“Caw, but why bother to make a distinction? However, I believe humans call this particular type of fourleg a ‘dog’.”

Hm. This meant that the arrival was either Inuzuka or… “Have they a henohenomoheji drawn upon their gear?” asked Itachi.

The crow clacked its beak. “Caw! They do, Itachi-dono.”

“Then they are no mere dogs, Karasu, but Hatake Kakashi’s ninken,” said Itachi with a pleased expression. His memories of the ninken were fond. Lost in thought, he stood from his perch on a tree and wandered down, until he was standing upon a wooden boardwalk that was swallowed by a lake – the lake where he’d spent hours upon hours practicing katon jutsu, a long time ago.

“I wonder,” mused Itachi. “Is this a sign?”

He had hoped that, were the hokage to send anyone to retrieve him, it would be Kakashi. Logically, thought Itachi, Kakashi made the most sense. But he wasn’t entirely sure whether such logic was sound, seeing as it was clouded by his emotions. Though why shouldn’t it be? Perhaps, Kakashi was coming and had merely altered his appearance. After all, the village was full of strangers who would notice every little thing, who might be roaming around these very forests. And these strangers would surely startle at the sight of Hatake Kakashi, the famed copy nin, careening through the underbrush in the company of his most ferocious allies. Yet a little girl walking some dogs as a side job wouldn’t be nearly as exciting.

Keeping this in mind, Itachi decided to wait until he could further sense the arrival’s chakra before deciding whether or not to show himself.

Unfortunately, proximity didn’t bring enlightenment. The incoming chakra signature was weak, reminding Itachi vaguely of a large squirrel, or perhaps a wild boar if he were feeling generous. It was hard to say whether this was a deliberate action on Kakashi’s part so as to go unnoticed, or if this truly was a twelve-year-old with very, very, very small chakra reserves. Then, he could suddenly feel all minus one of the ninken being dispelled, and hear a girlish squeal and rustling.

Again, this could be a precautionary tactic to indicate to him that this was not meant to be an ambush, or simply a twelve-year old with no discretion.

And then, without further warning, appeared… what Karasu had aptly described as a “pink”, “giggly”… girl. 

She was covered in slobber and twigs, the former of which was explained by the ninken flanking her. Itachi immediately recognized him as Bull, Kakashi’s largest summon, though he knew immediately that the same did not apply to the girl – she was not Kakashi in disguise. One glimpse had been enough to completely disabuse him of that notion. 

With a sigh, Itachi activated his sharingan and turned around just the slightest bit. The girl’s green eyes, which had been shamelessly boring into him, glazed over upon meeting his. 

Check. Genjutsu successfully cast. Without further preamble, Itachi got to work and carefully planted a suggestion in the girl’s brain to go practice water walking and forget all about him. Then, he repeated the same process with Bull, though it took him significantly more effort to convince the dog that Itachi was not in fact, Uchiha Itachi, but a friend, and that Bull should not, under any circumstances, notify Hatake Kakashi of his presence. Just as Itachi had finished castingthe genjutsu, a shrill sound broke through the clearing – and through Itachi’s concentration.

Throwing a shuriken at the possibly volatile object was his first reaction, his second being to sprint over to the source and discern what had caused the disturbance.

Was it a bomb? An explosion tag? An elaborate sound attack?

No. Even more alien – it was a civilian devise of some sort.

 

His cousin Shisui had once explained that, apparently, not everyone stood up at the crack of dawn, hence the presence of – alarm clocks.

…remarkable.

Itachi wasn’t entirely sure what twelve-year-olds did with their time, but carrying alarm clocks into lakes seemed like just the thing Shisui would’ve enjoyed, so Itachi decided that it was normal. He was pondering this when another loud noise made him jump.

“GAAAAAHHHH”

Ah, the screams of a twelve-year-old.

Itachi wasn’t sure how one should go about talking to twelve-year-old girls, so he didn’t even begin to try. He watched the flailing girl. Was she drowning? He had just seen her water-walking. Why wasn’t she water-walking?

The girl eventually seemed to come to the same conclusion and began to float. Though she still wasn’t water walking. Ah, no. She was ‘swimming’. It had been a while since Itachi had had to swim for anything, so the action took him by surprise. However, Sasuke no longer seemed to be in danger of losing a teammate to their family lake, so Itachi decided that he could just leave her there. Besides for which, he had put the girl under a genjutsu, so she’d likely overlook him–

“Stalker-san, you destroyed my alarm clock.”

Never mind. 

The girl was shooting him a reproachful look, her tone matter-of-fact. Itachi’s mouth opened. But nothing came to mind, so he shut it again.

She had broken his genjutsu? Given, it might have had something to do with the sudden exogenous assault on two of her senses – her hearing (through the alarm clock) and her touch (via the cold of the water); but even so, Itachi hadn’t been expecting her to break free. Especially as the girl didn’t even seem to have noticed the genjutsu in the first place.

…perhaps Sasuke had taught her how to break some illusions?

Itachi mustered the girl a little more closely. The first thing he noticed were once again the eyes – green. Her hair was a strange color and was shaped like a mushroom, though he suspected it might look different when dry. She was very pale, (as was he, but not to that extreme), so he concluded that the girl cared more about her complexion than shinobi work. This was further proven by the very impractical-looking dress she was currently floating – ah, swimming – in.

“What?” the girl said suddenly. “Did you think my alarm clock was a bomb or something?”

Itachi blinked at her, confused. What else was he supposed to think? Really. He wanted to scold her for foolishly bringing such a strange civilian contraption to a lake, but then he remembered that Shisui would’ve given her a thumbs up instead and was confused on how to proceed.

“You know,” continued the girl smartly, clearly in no need of his input. “Kakashi-sensei always tells us to look underneath the underneath, but I think you took it a bit too far, huh?”

 

Underneath the underneath? Itachi had always suspected Kakashi was secretly a fan of poetry. It was certainly a fanciful way to say “be alert”, but perhaps that was the point. Kakashi’s flair for the occasional dramatics made his words easy to remember. 

“You know Kaka-sensei?” the girl asked curiously.

Itachi stilled. How had she guessed that? Was this girl secretly an ANBU agent, trained to read into all of his micro-expressions?

The girl’s next words disproved his theory:

“You’re Kaka-sensei’s fangirl, aren’t you?” 

 

…fangirl?

 

What on earth was a fangirl? Feeling increasingly lost, Itachi pondered on the matter. The triumphant gleam in the girl’s verdant eyes was slightly off-putting. Now, Itachi had often been called a genius on occasion, so, by putting his considerable intellect to the task, he concluded that fan + girl = a fan who is also a girl.

Hm. He wasn’t certain about the fan part, but last he checked, he wasn’t a girl. 

Perhaps he’d deduced the definition of fangirl incorrectly. Another possibility was that a fangirl referred to a girl with a fan. A fan was the Uchiha’s clan logo, but Itachi wasn’t wearing anything with a fan on it. And he still wasn’t a girl. 

But why would she reference a fan unless she was talking about the Uchiha? This girl… had she discovered his identity? But how could she know…? 

Perhaps “fangirl” was a code. Perhaps the girl truly was an ANBU in disguise, here to escort Itachi to his clandestine appointment with the sandaime. Perhaps this fangirl business was her way of instructing him to follow along. But why the secrecy? Was the area compromised? Itachi glanced around worridly, but he couldn’t sense anyone other than Bull, who was still slightly catatonic from his genjutsu. 

Hm.

The girl who might or mightn’t be an ANBU seemed to have taken Itachi’s silence as an admission, assuring him that she wouldn’t tell Kakashi his secret, seeing as “fangirls stick together”. Itachi was pleased that she didn’t intent to tell Kakashi his secret, whatever his secret was, but still felt lost on the fangirl concept. 

If this was some sort of code, he needed to ask sandaime-sama for a cheat-sheet.

In any case, Itachi decided to give the ANBU/twelve-year-old a scroll that only the hokage would be able to open containing a time and coordinates for them to meet. He had already prepared it in advance, so all that was left to do was disguise it. If the girl didn’t understand the meaning, he would just destroy it when she wasn’t looking. So he cast a genjutsu on it to look like a wad of ryo and handed it to the girl, who started.

“Uhh… thanks.” She smiled at him, as though Itachi had just done something especially charitable.

Itachi was caught off guard. How long had it been since someone had smiled at him?

Feeling slightly awkward at their one way-communication (Shisui had insisted that ‘hn’ was not enough to establish a rapport with someone), Itachi decided to go a step further and give her nod. His father and superiors usually seemed to like it when he nodded.

The action seemed to be completely lost on the girl, however, who didn’t nod back, and instead began to count the bills.

Once again, Itachi was thrown for a loop. What was she doing? She had to hand the scroll to the hokage, not read it herself. He opened his mouth to chastise her, but then remembered that this could potentially be a twelve-year-old. Potentially.

Just then, the girl stopped counting, pinned him with a dismayed look and said: “Stalker-san, I’m not sure if this is enough.” Itachi paused. Had she seen the message? Did she mean that a time and coordinates were not enough? Was she expecting a full mission report? “But” the girl continued, “I don’t want you to give me too much, either.” Pardon? Itachi felt like they were having two different conversations. The girl, unfortunately, carried on undeterred: “ne, how about you accompany me to the alarm clock store, Stalker-san?”

 

Itachi stared. He could feel a headache coming on. Was this a twelve-year-old or not? If this was his ANBU escort, the invitation to the “alarm clock” store was likely code.

Alarm + clock could mean a lot of things, such as that he had returned to the village at an inopportune time and the hokage was alarmed, but Itachi wasn’t certain.

On the other hand, what kind of ANBU got caught in a genjutsu and fell into a lake? Was this a new initiate? Or a clueless twelve-year-old? He didn’t remember being this clumsy even as a six year old, never mind at twelve, when he’d been recruited into ANBU.

Hm.

If he went with the girl, it could potentially be a waste of time.

Nevertheless, on the off chance that this was an official order, Itachi had no choice but to go along, and if necessary, buy a twelve-year-old girl an “alarm clock”.

…worse things had happened.

So, mind made up, Itachi was about to tell the girl that he’d go with her, but she beat him to the punch. “Oh, come on, Stalker-san…! Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’d be unfair to at least one of us if I were to take the money.”

Itachi stared at her, deciding that he wasn’t even going to bother trying to discern the meaning of that. Suddenly, the girl perked up, as though struck by inspiration. “Oh, I know. Come with me, and I’ll help you get a date with Kaka-sensei!”

Itachi stopped short. Pardon? Did she just say…? A date? His headache reappeared with a vengeance. Was date code for including Kakashi in the mission or… Itachi really didn’t want to consider the possibility that it wasn’t.

 

“Or maybe not,” the girl amended quickly, clearly sensing his disconcert. “But I can tell you stuff about Kaka-sensei while we buy the alarm clock if you want. That way you won’t have to stalk him all the time!”

 

Itachi would’ve preferred if the girl told him things about Sasuke, but he didn’t dare ask in case she wasn’t an ANBU agent. Perhaps what she would next tell him was a way of debriefing him? It wasn’t unheard of of undercover ninja to receive their next assignments in code… did this mean his next assignment was with Kakashi? Was this what she meant by “date”? He really, really hoped that he was the case. Otherwise…

“Ne, come on, Stalker-san,” the girl encouraged. “The alarm clock shop is in the civilian district. The odds of meeting Kaka-sensei there are slim to none, so you don’t have to be self-conscious!”

Itachi mustered the girl warily. If this was code, it was beyond him. He really did need a cheat sheet. Thinking this, he retrieved his straw hat, designed to properly conceal his features, and nodded at the girl to lead the way.

 

 

 

 

Two hours later saw him returning to his temporary lodgings (an inn that had been set up for foreigners) with lighter pockets and a thank you for buying the girl a new alarm clock.

 

After spending the evening walking with “Sakura” through Konoha, Itachi had come to the conclusion that this truly was Sasuke’s twelve-year-old teammate and not an ANBU in disguise. He was rather mortified that he’d thought otherwise. Worse yet, the girl seemed to labor under the misconception that he was a woman, and to add insult to injury, also appeared convinced that he was head over heels in love with her sensei. He especially did not appreciate the pitying looks she’d shot him as she told others that he was, in fact, a woman.

 

Itachi sighed to himself as he retrieved the mochi he’d stashed in his cloak. After such a trying evening, he deserved a little respite. He could almost picture his cousin’s reaction if he ever found out Sasuke’s teammate had tried to set him up with Hatake Kakashi. No doubt Shisui would’ve loved the girl. Possibly, he’d have participated in her little scheme.

 

 

 

In another part of the village, Kakashi had just decided to investigate ‘the matter of the crow’ – the first step being to summon his ninken. Much to Kakashi’s surprise, he was met with the rather unusual sight of dozing dogs. All of them. At the same time. With suspiciously bloated stomachs… or maybe that was just his imagination.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes speculatively.

“Did you guys have a feast today?”

“Ah, you could say that, Boss,” replied Pakkun noncomitally.

“That’s interesting,” Kakashi noted. “You see, I don’t recall buying you any treats.”

Bisuke yapped. “You’re not our only source of income, Boss!”

“Ah, prey tell. What other sources of income do you have?”

Pakkun barked out a laugh. “That’s for us to know, boss–”

“And for me to find out?” Kakashi tagged on hopefully.

“Come on, Boss,” Pakkun complained. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Kakashi decided to cut to the chase: “this hasn’t anything to do with Sakura walking you today, has it?”

“Oh, Greeny?” said Akino casually. “She’s a bit slow.”

“Always complaining,” added Uhei.

“Calling us demon spawns…” said Bull, proudly.

“And fattening you up,” Kakashi concluded.

“Hey!”

“What? It’s true,” Kakashi protested. “You know, you were supposed to get her into shape, not the other way around.”

“Alright, fine. The feast today was a bribe from her…” Pakkun admitted. “But c’mon, Boss. She offered sausages! Can’t blame a dog for chasing his dream meal.”

Kakashi sighed. “Maa… I’ll let it go. Just this once. But I didn’t call you out here for that. I actually have a job for you guys.”

Pakkun perked up. “Hm? Spill.”

“You see, there’s this crow which I’m told has been exhibiting suspicious behavior. Coincidentally, the S-class missing nin Uchiha Itachi has been observed to posses a summoning contract with crows.”

“In other words, you’re worried that this crow’s the Uchiha’s, yes?”

“That’s right,” said Kakashi. “It might be nothing – I hadn’t noticed it myself, but… better safe than sorry.”

“Well spoken, Boss!” cheered Bisuke.

“Yeah,” said Pakkun, “except we’ve already checked.”

Kakashi blinked. “You have?”

“Yeah. Looks like Greeny was worried about the same thing, ‘cause that’s what the bribe was for.”

“And?”

“We tracked the bird as she asked.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Kakashi’s eye narrowed. “And did you accompany her the whole time?”

“Bull took care of it,” Pakkun said dismissively. “Seriously, Boss. Nothing happened.”

Kakashi looked at Bull.

“’s true, Boss,” Bull confirmed. “Was a false alarm. Just some foreigner – definitely not Uchiha Itachi.”

“Are you sure?” Kakashi pressed. “His smell could’ve easily changed. In fact, last you saw him, he was thirteen. Now, he would be eighteen. His smell has definitely changed.”

“Boss, I had a visual. It wasn’t…” Bull trailed off. “It was a friend.”

Kakashi still looked high-strung.

“Take a chill-pill, Boss,” Bisuke interjected. “Or you’ll get gray hairs!”

“Yeah,” Pakkun agreed, poking Kakashi with his snout. “We didn’t know why your kid wanted us to track that bird. If we’d suspected the Uchiha’s involvement, we would’ve called you.”

“That’s nice.”

“Boss, seriously. It was a false alarm.”

Kakashi sighed. “I’m still checking on Sakura, just in case.” He glanced at Bull. “Any idea where she is?”

“Market area. She was going home.”

Kakashi nodded, then turned. It was indeed en route home that he found Sakura. Safe and sound, though with damp hair. Had she taken a bath?

“Sensei?” Apparently, Sakura had also spotted him. To be fair, Kakashi hadn’t been concealing his presence, but he hadn’t made it known either. Not bad.

“Yo!” He plopped down next to her. “Sakura-chan, what a surprise.”

“You don’t look very surprised,” said Sakura, her lips quirking into a smile. She was in a good mood, better than Kakashi had seen her all week.

“Ah, but a ninja never shows his surprise,” lectured Kakashi. Remembering what he had come for, he coughed and asked: “So, Sakura-chan. Do we have a spy in the village – or just a crow infestation?”

Sakura paused. Then, in a measured voice, she said: “There’s nothing to worry about, sensei! You were right. I did feed that crow.”

Kakashi frowned. “Then why did you insist on tracking it?”

”You know about that?”

Kakashi’s eyes quirked into a smile. “Maa, I know everything, Sakura-chan. Also, please refrain from bribing my dogs.”

”I was trying to find out if the crow has an owner. And it’s not my fault your demon spawns find sausages so enticing!”

Then Sakura grinned, smiling at him like she knew something he didn’t.

”Uh… is there something on my face?”

Perhaps there was, as Sakura didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, she was giving him a speculative once-over, which very assuredly did not make Kakashi uncomfortable at all.

“Ne, sensei?” She giggled. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Kakashi… hoped to god that she hadn’t suddenly developed a crush on him. “No.” If it came out a little brusque, well, he was entitled.

“What about fangirls?”

“Fangirls?”

Sakura was giggling like she knew something he didn’t. Once again, Kakashi told himself that he was not scared of a thirteen-year-old

“Maa… I have many lady friends,” he settled on.

“Fictional characters don’t count, sensei.”

“Mou.”

“I bet you haven’t had a girlfriend in ages,” she declared with assurance. “So you must really want one, huh?”

How sad was it that even the resident thirteen-year-old thought you had no love-life? Kakashi sighed. A change of topic would be great right about now. “Ah, Sakura-chan, where are you going with this?”

“When was the last time you cut your hair, Sensei?” Sakura interrupted, studying him critically. She wasn’t so far gone to expect him to get all dressed up for Stalker-san, but a haircut might be doable.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was trying and failing to understand his student. Women… They were strange creatures. “Just this morning.”

“I’m not buying that.”

“But it’s true. You see, Sakura-chan, I do shave, even if I wear a mask, so–”

“Shaving doesn’t count as a haircut!” Sakura yelled. “And just so you know, I’m assuming your answer means that you don’t even remember!”

Now she was getting angry, Kakashi noted. He truly did not understand his student. What did she care whether he cut his hair? The porn or the tardiness, he could understand. But his hair?

Meanwhile, Sakura had come to a conclusion: Kakashi needed a makeover. For the sake of all his fangirls out there, especially one in particular, she could not allow him to go on like this. Poor Stalker-san, pining after a porn-reading, chronically late pervert, who didn’t even visit the hair salon. And Stalker-san had such well-groomed hair, too. It was a travesty. There could be no chemistry between them unless Sakura fixed Kakashi’s hair situation  ahora .

As Kakashi’s sole female influence (as far as she could tell), she couldn’t in good conscience let the man walk around with hair like that. But of course, Kakashi wouldn’t see the light so easily… So Sakura would have to change tactics… appeal to his sense of honor, so to speak. For example, if she gave him a hairbrush as a present, he wouldn’t dare pawn it off to his dog, now would he?

So she asked: “When’s your birthday, Sensei?”

Kakashi blinked. “I don’t see how this is relevant?”

Sakura stared at him in shock. “How could you say that, Kaka-sensei! It’s a celebration to honor the day you were born!”

“People celebrate that? They say it traumatizes newborns.”

Kakashi-sensei didn’t celebrate his birthday. Hashirama’s mullet. That was just… sad. And needed to be rectified immediately. “Not under my watch!” Sakura yelled. “That changes now! What’s the date?”

“Ah, sorry, but I best not tell you,” Kakashi explained sensibly. “You see, Sakura-chan, an enemy nation could use it against you.”

Sakura stared him down. “Sen. Sei.”

Kakashi sighed. “Maa… no need to glare like that. It’s the fifteenth September.”

Aye, aye. Music to my ears. 

“Sweet!” Sakura cheered. “That’s right after the chunin exams end, right? Along with a chapter in your life.”

Or haircut, actually. Sakura eyed the man’s scalp speculatively.

“Uh… Sakura?” Kakashi ventured after a moment. “Listen – don’t throw me a surprise party. Your Sensei’s begging you.” He sounded slightly desperate. But then he seemed to further ponder the matter and added: “Maa, but if you must get me a cake, make it an eggplant cake.”

“Eggplant cakes don’t exist, sensei,” Sakura deadpanned. “But that’s not important right now. What’s important is that you need a makeover.”

“My birthday cake isn’t important?” exclaimed Kakashi.

“Of course it’s important. After all, it marks the day I’ll get you a hairbrush,” Sakura declared. Once Kakashi stopped looking like a hobo, perhaps he could ditch those pervy books of his in favor of an actual girlfriend. Like… wink, wink – Stalker-san.

Hook, line and sinker.

Sakura truly was a talented matchmaker, wasn’t she?

 

She was so thoughtful, in fact, that upon team seven’s next meeting, Sakura brought some treats for Stalker-san’s crow. Sakura had already told Kakashi-sensei that she was feeding it, so she might as well do it. She had not expected Sasuke, of all people, to object.

“Sakura, don’t.” He didn’t say anything else.

Sakura stared at him, then at the crow. The first time he addressed her, and it was about not feeding a crow? Say what? Sakura frowned. What, then, was she supposed to do with all of this bird-food?

“Why not, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke frowned. “Tch. Do whatever you want.” With these heartwarming words, he turned around and started furiously polishing his kunai.

Naruto, meanwhile, seemed interested in the crow now that Sasuke had addressed its presence.

“Ne, ne, Sakura-chan? What’s up with that bird?”

“Nothing, Naruto,” said Sakura with annoyance. “Can’t you tell?”

“But it’s… Sakura-chan, it’s ugly!”

Sakura twitched. She wasn’t sure whether Stalker-san could hear directly through the crow or if it just reported things, but she wasn’t about to let Naruto’s big mouth get in the way of Kakashi-sensei’s romantic affairs.

“He’s not ugly, Naruto,” Sakura said firmly, giving the crow a pat.

“But… Sakura-chan,” Naruto mustered the bird critically. “That scar on it’s beak looks…”

“–a lot better than your jumpsuit,” Sakura finished peevishly.

“EXCUSE ME?”

“What’s going on here, kids?” Kakashi interrupted drolly, having just arrived to the training ground.

“Sakura-chan’s feeding this creepy bird for no reason!”

“Naruto was criticizing his appearance!”

“Hah?” Naruto crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t if you weren’t getting so close to it! It could be dangerous, Sakura-chan!”

“I don’t need you to protect me from a crow, Naruto!” Sakura raged.

“Just stay away from it!”

“No, you stay away from it!”

Kakashi sighed. “Ah, I see.” He passed a page of his book. “Sorry, Sakura-chan, but I’ll have to agree with Naruto.”

“Yeah!” the blonde cheered. “I knew I could cont on you, Kaka-sensei!”

Kakashi nodded sagely. “The bird’s appearance just doesn’t meet my standards.”

Sakura glared at him. “If your hair is anything to go by, then those standards are skewed!”

“Ma, ma, Sakura-chan. I was talking about my lovely ninken, of course. Alas, Naruto, vanity isn’t everything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” said Kakashi wisely.

“Hah?” Naruto scrunched up his nose. “What does your pervy book have to do with anything?”

Sakura sniffed. “Sensei, if you think people aren’t totally judging you for it, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“True,” Sasuke agreed.

“Not you too…” Kakashi lamented.

“AHAHAHA! You’re a pervert and everyone knows it!” Having said this, Naruto took the chance back to turn to Sakura and exclaim: “And see! That bird is weird! Even Kaka-sensei thinks so!”

“Ah, ah. But did you know,” Kakashi cut in, “…that crows are omens of death?”

Naruto froze.

“What?!”

Even Sasuke had narrowed his eyes, but Naruto was clearly the scared one out of the two.

Seizing her chance, Sakura pounced. “Why, yes, Naruto. Didn’t you know? Really, what were you thinking? Insulting a harbinger of death like that.”

“Ah, no way!” Naruto was starting to look worried. “Hmp, well I’m not about to cower from some bird, ya hear that!” He pointed his finger in challenge at the crow, which stared at him unblinkingly.

“Pointing fingers is rude!” Sakura shouted. “Isn’t that right, Shi-chan?” She cooed at the crow and petted it lovingly. “Don’t listen to Naruto; he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Sh-Shi-chan?” Naruto said in a rather high-pitched voice.

“Yup,” said Sakura smartly. The nickname had been a spur of the moment decision, but if kept Naruto at length, then Sakura was all for it. Besides, it sounded cute, in a creepy kind of way.

“Wah, Sakura-chan, that pet name is so out there!” Naruto shouted.

Sakura couldn’t blame him. Shi was kind of a taboo word, seeing as it meant death, but Sakura figured it wouldn’t do any harm to spook Naruto a little. Kakashi seemed to be thinking along those lines too, because, in the following hours, he made sure to mention as many creepy stories about crows as he could, all the while affecting an air of nonchalance.

Team seven had gone back to taking D-ranks, as with the preparations for the chunin exams (not to mention the lack of available genin) D-ranks were currently in high demand, to the point that even some chunin had to take them. This had greatly appealed to Kakashi’s inner miser, as they were paying exceptionally well. And so, he took out his good humor on Naruto, showering him with horror stories about crows and the occasional spooky genjutsu. On her part, Sakura was proud to say that she had fallen for none of his illusions, some of which even Sasuke-kun had missed. By the end of their first D-rank, Kakashi’s good mod had borne its fruits: Naruto had unearthed all of an old lady’s turnips (while under the illusion that they were weeds), Kakashi had gotten to laugh at him while pretending to be giggling at his book, and finally, an eyeless zombie crow had spent the day replacing Naruto’s reflection every time he looked into a mirror, which had resulted in some very loud screeching, and Naruto claiming that it was a trick but looking remarkably unconvinced.

 

Shi-chan, meanwhile, was enjoying the treatment of a king on his new perch on Sakura’s shoulder. When Sakura announced that she’d be bringing him along to their second mission, Naruto had protested vehemently against the newest addition, but Kakashi had gleefully countered that the presence of a bird on their team could help lure in the lost cat that they were supposed to find, thereby being more of an asset to the team than Naruto. That had shut him up, but not without a lot of uneasy side-glances at Shi-chan. And so, operation “Retrieval of Tora” began.

 

It was late afternoon by the time they’d finished the D-rank, and Naruto had, for a change, ended up with a faceful of angry cat, which had translated into copious scratches and loud screaming.

 

“I don’t get it! Why does it always happen to me?” Naruto had complained. They’d had to do the same mission often enough, and it usually did end up with Naruto covered in cat-scratches. To be honest, though, Sakura felt worse for the cat.

 

The poor thing was the daimiyo’s wife’s esteemed pet, after all, which meant that any escape attempts on its part were doomed to fail, seeing as the woman was willing to pay actual ninja to retrieve “her precious Tora-nyan”. And quite handsomely, too, as Kakashi had cheerfully pointed out. 

However, Sakura felt that it was unfair to the cat. Her heart was reaching out to the poor thing, truly. It was clear that the daimiyo’s wife abused her pet, forcing it into frilly bows and dresses and even more constricting hugs that looked like they could end in strangulation, all of this as she fattened the poor Tora up while she was at it. It was no wonder that Tora had turned into a makeshift Houdini, thought Sakura sadly. When she said as much to Kakashi, he had just stared at her for a moment and then completely ignored her comment. And so, fifteen minutes later, Sakura found herself angrily stomping through the market, fuming about the Tora situation as she went.

 

It was as she rounded a corner that Shi-chan, who was still perched on her shoulder, suddenly perked up and flew away, straight into the arms (or shoulder) of Stalker-san.

“Stalker-san!” Sakura exclaimed. Said stalker turned around, the habitual serious expression contrasting strangely with the bag of green, pink and white dango held reverently in Stalker-san’s arms.

 

Sakura smirked. I knew it! Shiemi-oba-san better thank me for her new client. “Ne, stalker-san, you really enjoyed those treats from yesterday, huh?”

 

“I did,” said Stalker-san simply. And it was in this moment that Sakura had a revelation.

 

“You – your voice…”

 

Stalker-san smirked. “My voice?”

 

“You –“ Sakura’s face was beginning to flush in mortification. “You’re a guy!”

 

“I am,” he confirmed solemnly.

 

“Well why didn’t you say something?!”

 

“I… misunderstood.”

 

What is there to misunderstand?! screeched Sakura mentally. Unfortunately, Stalker-san did not clarify, so they both ended up staring at the other awkwardly, Sakura’s face redder than a radish, Stalker-san appearing rather cool and collected for someone who had been confused with a woman. Finally, Sakura found her voice again:

 

“I’m so, so sorry!”

 

Stalker-san nodded.

 

“I feel horrible about this, honest!” Sakura continued. This was, hands down, one of the most embarrassing things that had happened to her. “Can I… ugh, can I make it up to you?”

 

Stalker-san’s eyes betrayed him – instinctively flitting over to Shiemi-oba-san’s stand – then back, as though having realised his mistake. But Sakura had caught it.

 

“Didn’t you just buy some sweets?” she inquired wonderingly. And a lot of them, at that.

 

“There is no need for you to do anything, Sakura,” assured the stalker.

 

“I insist!” Sakura’s mother had drilled manners into her, after all. “I can try to wheedle Shiemi-oba-san into giving me some treats tomorrow, how’s that?”

 

Stalker-san looked like he desperately wanted to say yes, but was being held back by something. Sakura had no such compunctions: “Okay, then I’ll find you as soon as I get my hands on them!”

 

Hesitantly, Stalker-san nodded, and, clearly considering ya their interaction to be finished, began to walk down on of the market’s side-streets.

 

Wow, rude.

Though Sakura couldn’t exactly blame the guy. She was about to go back to minding her own business, but then she was struck by a burning question.

 

“Stalker-san, wait up!” As she ran to catch up with him, she noticed some people giving her odd looks, which is when it occurred to her that perhaps calling him “Stalker-san” was not a very polite thing to do.

 

Stalker-san had continued to walk, at a slower pace, so Sakura caught up easily and fell into step beside him. “Stalker-san, I feel rude calling you this,” said Sakura worriedly.

 

“I don’t mind,” Itachi said. He had been called way worse. “Was there something else?”

 

Sakura nodded, remembering her earlier question. “Ne, Stalker-san, if you’re not Kakashi-sensei’s fangirl, then why do you keep stalking us?”

Itachi paused, flummoxed. What now? The girl’s self-deception had been so convenient… He continued to walk. Perhaps he could still make use of it. “Can’t I be a…” he hesitated “a fan boy instead?”

 

Sakura gaped. That had somehow sounded very weird, coming from someone so serious.

 

“Uh, sure. So… you have a crush on Kakashi-sensei?”

 

“A… crush?” Itachi repeated, puzzled.  First she had thought he was in love with the man, and now that he wanted to crush him? What was with this girl? “No, I do not wish to hurt him.”

 

Sakura giggled. “Stalker-san, that’s not what having a crush means at all!”

 

“Ah.”

 

“A crush is when your heart goes doki-doki, like… you know?”

 

“An accelerated heart rate…” mused Itachi. “I do not feel endangered by him either.”

 

“No! The opposite. You know, when you have a special someone that you care for!” Sakura blushed, thinking of Sasuke-kun.

 

“Hm,” mused Itachi, also thinking of Sasuke. “Like a little brother?”

 

“No!” exclaimed Sakura exasperatedly. “I mean when you like like someone!”

 

“Ah.” Itachi was finally starting to catch on. “Romantically?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Then I can assure you – I may admire him professionally, but I do not have a ‘crush’ on Hatake Kakashi.”

 

“Oh!” Sakura snapped her fingers. “He’s your idol then, isn’t he? That’s why you’re stalking us!”

 

“I…” Itachi was forced to to do some deep thinking. It was embarrassing, but perhaps the girl would leave well enough alone if she thought she was right. “Yes, you have come to the correct conclusion… but please refrain from shouting it.”

 

“Sorry!” said Sakura quietly. “But really, maybe you should think about getting a new idol! Did you know, today we had to do the rescue Tora mission, and…” Sakura quickly relayed what had happened, detailing the case of animal cruelty which Kakashi was clearly ignoring. “…the absolute jerk! And then he said, ‘ma, Sakura-chan, but this mission pays so handsomely’ – can you believe it! Like he didn’t care at all about Tora’s suffering!”

 

Itachi has indeed witnessed all of this through his crow and had thought the same thing. He hated it when animals were mistreated. Of course, he could understand that the Tora mission brought Konoha some revenue, but he could not be a proud shinobi of the leaf if the leaf made its money from animal endangerment. So he shook his head seriously. He could understand Kakashi’s reasoning, but he was with Sakura in this. “I had not expected that from Kakashi-sem… san.”

 

“He used to be your sempai?” Sakura said. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Tora is suffering right now and here we are, frivolously gossiping about Kaka-sensei!”

 

“Yes. I feel bad for Tora,” Itachi has to agree. He himself couldn’t do anything lest he awaken someone’s suspicions, but perhaps Sakura… “May I ask… why didn’t you sabotage your mission?”

 

Sakura blinked. “I wish it was that easy. But Kaka-sensei is an amazing tracker. Even if I somehow managed to hide Tora, there’s no hiding her scent.”

 

Itachi frowned thoughtfully. “There is. If you planned adequately, it could be feasible.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. Genjutsu and some scent-changing products could go a long way,” he said seriously.

 

“Oh my gosh! Stalker-san, you sure know your stuff!” Sakura cheered excitedly. “Do you really think we can help Tora?”

 

Itachi nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Then we’re doing this?” Sakura asked.

 

She could. Itachi really shouldn’t get involved. “You can do it yourself.”

 

“Haah? Talk about two-faced!” Sakura exclaimed hotly. It was clear that the girl felt strongly about the topic.

 

Her insult, however, considering Itachi’s current position as a double agent, hit a little too close home.  “I am not two-faced, nor is my intervention necessary for the successful relocation of Tora,” he said curtly. “You can do it yourself.”

 

“No, I can’t!” Sakura countered. “I just graduated from the Academy, I’m not skilled enough – but you are older than me and clearly capable enough to apprehend a frigging cat!”

 

She may have a point – but Itachi was still torn.

 

“Come on,” Sakura coaxed. “Just think about that poor kitty, being forced into stuffy constraints,” also known as cat-dresses, but details, “and ribbons and mistreatment… it would be so easy, Stalker-san. We lure Tora with some treats, we snag her, and then we keep her until she’s thin enough that no one will recognize her when find her a new family!” Stalker-san still looked undecided, but Sakura was determined. “Please! How could you live with yourself, knowing that it’s in your power to improve this poor kitten’s horrible life – but egotistically choosing not to! That makes you an accomplice, you know? To animal cruelty!” Sakura took a breath. “Come on,” she begged. “No one has to know you helped me! We’ll keep Tora in my house… if anyone gets into trouble, it’ll be me!”

 

Itachi leveled her with a serious stare. “You are still asking me to kidnap the fire daimiyo’s cat.”

 

Sakura pouted, deciding to take another approach. “Oh? And are you such an unskilled ninja that you’re afraid of a cat?”

Unskilled? Itachi knew for a fact that he would make a better cat-kidnapper than any other shinobi currently in Konoha. However, that wasn’t the point.

“Insulting me won’t gain you my agreement,” he said sternly. But Sakura was right: he could perhaps pull a few strings without anyone the wiser. Itachi smirked. “But I am not opposed to coaching you through the process.” Sakura blinked. “Sakura. Do you still have the ear-piece you used this morning?”

 

 

 

 

Two hours later, Sakura was staring down at the reddish fur of the fire daimiyo’s cat, which she was holding in her arms as the damn thing tried to scratch her eyes out. She was in a park by the outskirts of Konoha, waiting for Stalker-san to arrive. He’d been surprisingly effective in commandeering her through the daimiyo’s gardens in such a way that she hadn’t stumbled upon anyone. The first stage of their operation had gone flawlessly.

 

Then, Sakura coincidentally looked to her left and found Itachi casually propped on a tree, curiously regarding her as she struggled to calm the cat. His lip had quirked upward with bemusement. Sakura almost couldn’t believe it – the sheer nerve! Just for how long had he been standing there…? She was being attacked by a cat here! With claws. Some help would’ve been appreciated.

 

“Do you think this is funny?” she snapped.

 

Itachi did, but perhaps saying so would annoy Sakura. So he amended: “just the situation.”

 

Sakura growled and shoved the cat into his chest. “Here, you hold him, if it’s so funny!”

 

Itachi nodded agreeably. Sakura, meanwhile, stared on in shock as he made four handsigns which were clearly some sort of genjutsu and took the suddenly calm cat from her like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just watched her get mauled by the damn beast for three full minutes, all the while hoarding the knowledge on how to calm it down.

 

Spitefully, Sakura shifted her fingers into the kai position and dispelled the illusion.

 

Not so funny now, huh?

 

Itachi seemed to have realized his predicament a moment too late, just as the cat turned her loving attentions on him. Unfortunately, both of his hands were occupied holding her, so he couldn’t make any handsigns.

 

“You–“ he choked.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why did you dispel my genjutsu–?”

 

“Hmp. That’s karma for you,” interrupted Sakura. “Don’t you know? You get what you give.”

 

“Please recast the genjutsu, Sakura,” Itachi implored. “The hand-signs are ox, boar, horse and tiger.”

 

Sakura clucked her tongue and glared at him, but did as asked. Nothing happened on her first attempt. But, realizing what the problem was, she quickly changed her chakra input, rendering Tora a calm cat by the second try.

 

After the feline had calmed down, Itachi finally lowered his hold on Tora, then gave Sakura a dark look.

 

“There was no need to undo my genjutsu.”

 

“What?” Sakura defended. “There was also no need for you to just stand there and have a laugh while I was getting mauled!”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You heard me!”

 

Itachi was taken aback. “I apologize. I hadn’t realized you wished for me to interfere.”

 

“Do you need a dying man to tell you to help them or do you just help them?” Sakura retorted waspishly.

 

Itachi pondered this. The memory came to mind of when, at four years old, he had given his water canteen to a dying iwa shinobi and the man had tried to stab him. Though he had been in a war zone, so perhaps Itachi should’ve known better. “It depends…” he settled on, “but you do have a point.”

 

Sakura frowned. “Just admit it, you thought my misery was funny.”

 

“Perhaps,” confessed Itachi. She had reminded him of Shisui getting pecked by his crows when they were children. He glanced around. “However, our priority now is to conceal Tora’s scent and hide her.”

 

Sakura nodded. “So what’s the plan?”

 

Itachi thought briefly. “Your usual hair-products are strongly scented, so they should do.”

 

“You want us to give Tora a bath? After what she just did to me?”

 

“Among other things.”

 

Sakura stared. Well alright… She didn’t really like the idea of sacrificing her hair products, but… her inner strategist was plotting. “That’s actually a good idea. Pakkun uses the same conditioner as me, so it might make tracking Tora harder for him.”

 

Now the question was how to smuggle Tora into her house. But as it turned out, Itachi was more than equipped to accomplish the infiltration. With little to no effort, he was able to open Sakura’s window from the outside (using a hairpin with surprising dexterity) and then taught Sakura a genjutsu which would conceal the cat from prying eyes. Sakura picked it up quickly, as the hard part was to have a perfect visual recollection of one’s surroundings, which wasn’t a problem, considering that they were in her room.

 

So far, so good.

 

After that, Itachi and Sakura had made a trip to the playground and borrowed some sand, which, with the aid of old newspapers, had quickly turned into Tora’s new sandbox in the corner of Sakura’s room. Then, they snuck a plate with fish into her bedroom, as well as some water, and with that they were set to go. 

The hardest part of it all was giving the water-hating Tora a bath, but Itachi and Sakura made a good enough duo to soundly pull it off. As it turned out, Sakura’s hypothesis that Stalker-san loved animals turned out to be correct, meaning he was very good at handling them as well, genjutsu notwithstanding. So while he calmed the cat down, Sakura got on her hands and knees and gave Tora a thorough scrub. The whole ordeal ended with all three of them soaking wet and a ravaged bathroom, but the thought that they had improved a cat’s life was more than enough. As they were cleaning up the mess, Sakura couldn’t contain her giddiness anymore and turned toward Itachi.

 

“Can you believe it? We did it!”

 

Itachi continued to remove cat hairs from the bathtub but turned to give her a pleased nod. “Yes. Hopefully our efforts will pay off.”

 

“Yeah…” said Sakura. “I’ve been wanting to help Tora for ages. This feels great, ne?”

 

Itachi nodded again. Unfortunately, Sakura was looking at him expectantly, so he surmised that she was waiting for him to say something. “It does. Now we only have to wait until she loses some weight and we can set her free.”

 

“Yeah!” Sakura agreed wistfully. “In the meantime… I’ve actually never had a cat before, but I’ve heard they’re low maintenance, so I think it’ll be fine.” She paused. “The only danger is my mother barging into my room, even though I tell her not to.”

 

“Is she a ninja?” asked Itachi worriedly.

 

Sakura shook her head. “She’s a seamstress.”

 

“Then she will neither sense Tora’s chakra nor break the genjutsu, as long as you remember to cast it.”

 

“I’m not that forgetful,” Sakura complained. “But do you really think Kakashi-sensei won’t be able to track Tora?”

 

“If he were to receive the mission in the following two or three days, he might,” said Itachi. “Sakura, you must veto it if it’s offered to you.”

 

Sakura nodded. “I’ll do my best. But what if an Inuzuka takes it?”

 

“We must hope that’s not the case.”

 

“But what if it happens?”

 

“…I could have one of my crows keep watch,” Itachi offered. “Just in case. However, it’s unlikely, as most of the Inuzuka are specialized jonin.”

 

Sakura nodded. “Keep me posted if anything happens.” She stroked Tora. Sakura was going to make sure the cat was happy or be damned.

 

The next day, Sakura played her part and rallied Naruto and Sasuke so that they’d pester Kakashi into not doing any missions. Kakashi seemed to have sensed that it was her behind their renewed fervor, but Sakura simply smiled and played it innocent. He couldn’t find out that she’d kidnapped Tora, after all, no matter what.

And so, team seven resumed their training. Naruto and Sasuke spent the morning sparring, as was usual for them, but Kakashi deviated from the pattern:

“Sakura-chan,” he said, plopping down next to her suddenly. “The genjutsu is complete.”

Sakura blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You asked for a way to measure distances accurately, didn’t you?” Kakashi asked. “Ma. So I thought: who am I to let my cute, little kohai down? And I made this.” His hands blurred through an assortment of handsigns, and suddenly Sakura was trapped in the strangest genjutsu she’d ever seen. Resisting the temptation to break it, she glanced around. The world all around her looked a little darker – different, somehow – and strange blueish arrows went from one tree to another, from one patch of soil to the next, from clover to stone to flower, tiny little numbers inscribed on top of each arrow. And then Sakura realized that they were measurements, extremely accurate measurements.

A smile broke out on her face. “Sensei!” she was so happy, that she pulled a Naruto and tackled him. Kakashi tensed under her hug – his back suddenly ramrod straight, so Sakura quickly let go. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, though it saddened her that he was so averse to human contact. “Thanks so much, Kaka-sensei,” said Sakura. “You’re the best.”

“I try,” said Kakashi cheerily. “So. Wanna know the handsigns?”

“Yes, please!”

And so Kakashi spent the next few minutes walking her through the basics of the technique, showing her the handsign sequence and some of the basics to successfully cast the genjutsu. Apparently, the technique relied on some complex built in mechanics that had a lot to do with advanced genjutsu theory and concepts which Sakura wasn’t privy to. But from what she managed to squeeze out of Kakashi, it sounded very complex, despite his insistence to the contrary.

To be quite fair, Sakura was really touched. He had gone through all that trouble… for her?

“And you completely made it up?” she asked incredulously. “You just… invented a whole new genjutsu all on your own?”

Kakashi chuckled. “Ma, I didn’t do all that much. Just took some inspiration here and there and blended all those ideas together.”

Sakura resisted the urge to tackle him again. “Sensei… thank you so much.” He was the first person to ever look at her – at the civilian nobody – and put in the work just for her sake. Despite herself, Sakura could feel treacherous tears start to well up.

“Uhh… Sakura-chan?”

Sakura tried to hold them back, but there was just no helping it. She was emotional to a fault. To hell with it. Sakura quickly scrubbed them away and smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. “This means a lot, sensei.”

Kakashi smiled. “Hm, and here I thought I was toughening you up.”

“Hey! I’m not a crybaby!”

“Ah, of course.”

“Something got into my eye!”

Kakashi smiled fondly. “Sure.”

Sakura sniffed, trying to divert attention from her runny nose. “Ne, sensei? Did you name the technique?”

“Hm?” Kakashi frowned. “Nope.”

“But you came up with it! You should name it.”

“Alright then…” said Kakashi. “How about… chiheisen?”

Sakura’s first thought was… it sounds a lot like the chidori. And also: he’s secretly a poet isn’t he? What she actually said was: “Horizon? It sounds cool, but isn’t it a bit random?”

Kakashi smiled. “I’m glad you like it, but it’s not. You see, this technique works like a chakra horizon of sorts. If it’s within the range of your genjutsu, you can measure it. Beyond that, beyond what you can see, is the horizon, no?”

“True.” Sakura smiled. “You really are a poet, sensei. But I guess I should’ve already guessed that when you named your signature technique ‘a hundred birds chirping’. It’s almost zen.”

“Ah, well I have a great source of inspiration.” Kakashi waved his Icha Icha around. “Maybe one day, I’ll write my own.”

“Over my dead body!”

“Ma, no need to be drastic, Sakura-chan.”

And that, hands down, was one of her happiest moments on team seven so far. Sakura felt so happy and grateful to Kakashi, in fact, that she resolved to master the chiheisen no matter the cost. She spent the whole morning and afternoon doing so, and when their training ended, she was the last to go home. Seeing as Sakura had walked Kakashi’s dogs the day before, she was free to do whatever with her evening. But she was still feeling pumped up and excited, so Sakura decided to continue training for a little and went to the lake at which she’d met Stalker-san to practice her water-walking. Unfortunately, Stalker-san wasn’t there. Her purpose for coming had been to train, Sakura tried to tell herself, not see Stalker-san, so it didn’t matter that he was absent.

With these thoughts, she spent about half an hour practicing her water-walking, until a point came where the whole thing came naturally to her. She really hadn’t thought that mastering it fully would be this easy… It felt pointless to have made the trip to the lake just for half an hour’s worth training. It was then that Sakura had another crazy idea. She blamed Kakashi for passing on his insanity… yet the idea was still there. If she could walk on the water’s surface, could she also walk on it’s surface, but upside down?

She was crazy for even trying it, but no one was around, so Sakura wasn’t scared of making a fool out of herself. So she jumped into the water, took a deep breath, and dove under. It was still sunny out, but at this hour, the lake was already a little cold.

Concentrate, Sakura.

Forcing herself to ignore the cold, Sakura swum around a little, both to warm her limbs and get into the right state of mind. Then, she gave herself a push and got started. Mentally whispering encouragements to herself, Sakura sloppily flipped around under water, so that she was upside down. Then, carefully, she tried placing her feet exactly where the water ended and the air started. The practice was much more strenuous on her legs, and quickly, her lungs, than normal water-walking had been, so Sakura was forced to give up her attempt rather early. Still, she was sure that it could be done. When she resurfaced, it was to Stalker-san’s face inches from her.

“GAAAAAH!”

Stalker-san blinked at her. “Ah, my apologies.”

“Don’t startle me like that, Stalker-san!”

This was giving her strong déjà vu.

“May I ask what you were doing?”

Sakura frowned, embarrassed. So he’d seen her. Why was it that Stalker-san always managed to catch her in embarrassing predicaments? “I was – uh. Trying to walk upside down on the water.”

Stalker-san stared at her blankly. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

Sakura blushed, feeling a need to defend herself. “That doesn’t mean it’s impossible!”

Stalker-san seemed to be pondering this. “No, I suppose not. Though, then, what you are attempting should be called ‘air walking’.”

Sakura frowned. “Well, maybe. I’m still figuring out the logistics.”

Stalker-san’s interest appeared to have been piqued. “This seems like an interesting skill to have. Perhaps, if you learn, you could teach it to your teammates.”

Sakura gave him an odd look. “I guess I could teach Sasuke-kun to get back into his good graces,” she pondered out loud.

Stalker-san seemed to approve. “I’m sure he would appreciate it.” Inwardly, Itachi more than approved. Air-walking, if indeed possible, could prove an invaluable skill for combat upon large water bodies. Seeing as his foolish little brother was very reliant on his fire-nature, such an advantage would round out his skill set quite well.

Itachi glanced at Sakura contemplatively. His foolish little brother truly had an interesting teammate. She came up with the most intriguing of ideas. Besides for which, Itachi was actually quite eager to explore the possibility of ‘air walking’. Figuring such things out had amused him endlessly in his childhood, and it had been a while since he’d had anything at all to figure out. This is perhaps why he offered to help Sakura out with her self-appointed challenge.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to try to learn air-walking as well, Sakura.”

Sakura blinked at him owlishly, then smiled one of those smiles Itachi still couldn’t wrap his head around. “Sure!” she said cheerily. “With your help, I’m sure we’ll figure this out in no time!”

And then she could teach it to his brother and make him stronger.

“And then I can teach it to Sasuke-kun and make him fall for me!”

Or well, that.

 

 

The next day, Sakura woke up full of energy, still excited about yesterday’s encounter with Stalker-san, the air-walking, and most of all, the chiheisen. She had dressed at the speed of light, packed a bag with spare clothes (to change into for when she’d inevitably have to walk Kakashi’s demon spawns) and a snack for lunch. With that, she was ready to go and left her house with excited kisses to both of her parents’ cheeks and a loud (if mental) cheer of ‘shannaro!’

Strangely, when she got to the red bridge, Kakashi was already there. This would’ve already been enough of a red flag without seeing Sasuke and Naruto’s expressions. Both boys looked disgruntled, arguing with Kakashi about something, but as Sakura got closer, they shut up.

Sakura felt her stomach sink. “Uh, good morning.”

No one answered – Naruto busy glowering at Kakashi, and Sasuke too preoccupied with narrowing his eyes at her. With that, the last member of their team, Shi-chan, suddenly came flying from a near building and descended regally upon Sakura’s shoulder, then pecked her ear.

At least someone’s happy to see me, thought Sakura mournfully. Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that, whatever they had been talking about involved her.

“Ahhh, get that bird away from me!” shouted Naruto, having snapped out of it.

“Now, now. That’s no way to talk to the resident harbinger of death,” chastised Kakashi. It almost seemed like things were returning to normalcy, when–

“Stop deflecting,” Sasuke spat with narrowed eyes. “You taught her” he nodded at Sakura “a new jutsu yesterday, didn’t you?”

Sakura felt her stomach drop. It had never been her intention to get Kakashi into trouble. When no one said anything, Sasuke’s nostrils flared. “Well? Didn’t you?”

“Ah, S-Sasuke-kun,” Sakura stuttered weakly. “I’m sure sensei can teach it to you as well…”

Sasuke glanced at her. “So she admits it,” he spat coldly.

“That’s enough, Sasuke,” Kakashi cut in. His voice was sharp. “You are a team. Each of you has a right to expand their owns skill-set, without the other two blowing a fuse about it.” He surveyed them all. “Right now, none of you are even close to ready to apply for the chunin exams.”

“But you already entered us once!” Naruto protested.

“And you showed me just how much of a mistake that was,” Kakashi countered coldly.

“No. We didn’t,” snarled Sasuke. “She did.”

All of them looked at Sakura, and in that moment, Sakura felt her blood freeze. Sasuke’s expression was one of rage, akin to a pot boiling over. Naruto’s clear blue eyes were not resentful, but still annoyed at the very least, even if that sentiment was reserved for Kakashi. And Kakashi himself… if Sasuke’s gaze was scalding, Kakashi’s was absolutely frigid. He was mad, Sakura realized with a sinking stomach. Unfortunately, the other two were too blinded by their own anger to notice.

“Sakura was the only one to show concern about her team,” Kakashi said. “Neither of you displayed any team work whatsoever, selfishly putting your own egos above anything else.” He glared at Naruto. “Naruto, you were so set on passing the exam, even despite your abysmal odds, that you didn’t even care if it would strand, not just you, but both of your teammates, permanently as career genin.”

“But I–!”

“And Sasuke. You realized what the test was truly about – cheating – yet the thought didn’t even occur to you that you could help your teammates.”

Sasuke’s jaw clenched. “You –“ he glared at Sakura. “You tattletale. Kakashi, what she told you is wrong. Warped.” His lip jutted out, forming an almost sneer.

Naruto had gone uncharacteristically quiet, and Sakura was trying not to cry.

Kakashi was glaring at Sasuke. “Oh, care to enlighten me? Did you not realize what the purpose of the test was, Sasuke?”

“Tch. Of course I did.”

“And did you not notice Naruto struggling?”

Sasuke said nothing.

“Are you trying to tell me,” continued Kakashi, “that the pride and joy of the academy wouldn’t have managed to get some simple answers to his teammate across the room? I’ve asked around, you know. All of your Academy classmates successfully cheated as a team. All – but you.”

Sasuke’s entire face had scrunched up. “I don’t need teammates!” he burst out.

“Sasuke, you do.”

“A chain is only as weak as its weakest link!”

Kakashi looked at him, then seemed to deflate. “I used to be like you,” he said, his voice somber. Both Sakura and Naruto perked up, realizing that Kakashi’s anger had shifted to something else. But he didn’t elaborate until even Sasuke looked at him. “I had two teammates – one of them, I thought of as a crybaby –“ here Sakura took in a sharp breath “–the other as someone who didn’t have the right temperament for ninja work.” It was Naruto, in this case, who shifted around uncomfortably. “What I didn’t realize at the time,” Kakashi continued, his eye bellying a deep sadness, “was that having emotions is not a curse, but a blessing.” He looked at Sakura significantly. “The one I had thought of as a crybaby had strong, powerful emotions which made him just as strong when the time to be came. In the end, he was brave where I was not, and he was a hero where I was a failure – to my friends and my team, which is the only thing that matters. In the end, only he could put his teammates above himself.”

“Sensei, and what about the other one?” asked Naruto. “The one without the right personality to be a ninja?”

“She was gentle and desired not to break, not to injure, but to mend,” said Kakashi with a soft voice. “She channeled her desire into a skill that strengthened us all – she was always there to cover our backs when we were too reckless. She was our healer.”

Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura were all aware that what Kakashi was telling them was extremely private. It felt very special and significant, coming from such an elusive man.

“Sensei, what happened?” Sakura ventured. “When… when did you realize that teamwork was important?”

Kakashi sighed, a shuddering, sad sound, and looked at each and every one of them in the eye for a long time.

“When it was too late.”

After that, team seven was uncharacteristically somber. Sasuke had lowered his head and was refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, Naruto was quiet, an uneasy sort of energy about him, and Sakura couldn’t even stand to look at Sasuke without feeling an urge to start crying. Kakashi didn’t touch his books the entire morning. When he declared that they’d be doing D-ranks again, everyone was almost glad. Anything to break the oppressive atmosphere.

 

 

 

“What about the Tora mission?” the hokage proposed. Sakura felt her blood run cold.

“The cat’s gone missing again?” inquired Naruto, sounding less outraged than what would’ve been normal for him.

“It appears so,” the hokage said with a sigh.

This was bad. Naruto didn’t seem like he was in any mood to complain today, and Kakashi had been uncharacteristically non-lazy, which would mean Sakura’s rescuing Tora operation would be busted before the cat’s new life even began. She could not let that happen.

“Um, could we, uh, please be allowed a different D-rank, hokage-sama?” Sakura asked haltingly. “It’s just… we have already completed the Tora mission a lot, and we, uh, we could use something to cheer us up right now, even if the pay is, uhh…” she hoped to god Kakashi wouldn’t be mad about this. Or the hokage. Or anyone, really. She felt so silly in her childish request.

“Sakura, yes?” asked the hokage kindly.

Sakura’s gaze was downcast as she nodded. It was her first time speaking to such an authority figure, and she was intimated.

The hokage surveyed her attentively, then looked at the rest of team seven. “Yes, you all seem a little downtrodden, don’t you? Even Naruto-kun.”

“Am not, gramps,” said Naruto with a lack of enthusiasm that all but confirmed the hokage’s statement.

“Very well, no Tora,” the hokage said after a moment. “How about this, then…?”

 

They spent the morning working at Ichiraku’s ramen shop, helping the owner and his daughter set things up for the no doubt increased amount of clients that the chunin exams would bring. As it turned out, Teuchi and Ayame’s intervention had been enough to cheer Naruto up, which in turn had reflected upon the rest of team seven. Sakura had even ended up befriending Ayame, who was very nice and knew a lot about cooking. She also seemed to have a crush on Kakashi. However, recalling the disaster that had been her latest attempt at matchmaking, Sakura decided not to do anything about it. For now.

Not to mention, Kakashi seemed to be quite aware of the situation, seeing as he had made a point of messing with Ayame by giggling at his Icha Icha the whole time he was there, and offering the book to her by the end. Consequenlty, Ayame had ended up blushing so much that she’d fainted.

The morning had ended with Sakura’s fellow fangirl instincts kicking in, which had resulted in her screeching at Kakashi for being a pervert as she was fussing over poor Ayame, who looked like she wanted to be swallowed by a ramen bowl. A highly bemused Teuchi-san had then rounded up their mission nicely by inviting them to some ramen in thanks for all their hard work.

It had been the perfect chance to sneak a peak under Kakashi’s mask, a series of attempts which had somehow ended up with Kakashi flashing Teuchi and a starstruck Ayame, but not even by far Sakura, Sasuke or Naruto.

 

Kakashi seemed perfectly aware of what they were up to and clearly was toying with them, which is why the three genin were all rather disgruntled on the way to pick up their next mission, but it was a more familiar kind of disgruntlement.

“Ma, ma, my cute students, don’t be like that,” Kakashi had commented offhandedly. “Let’s see, if you behave next mission, I’ll introduce you to elemental chakra.”

“SERIOUSLY?” Naruto had shouted.

Even Sasuke had looked pleased, even though he already knew some fire-related jutsu. Sakura had felt giddy too. She’d done some light reading about chakra natures the year prior. What would hers be?

 

The next mission turned into a trip to the local photographer, who was also preparing for all the pictures foreigners might wish to take once they arrived for the finals of the chunin exams. Team seven was so set on their price at the end of the mission that even Naruto refrained (mostly) from breaking things and tried to play nice, even though the photographer was a right jerk. To be honest, though, Sakura did most of the work, aka sucking up to the photographer by complimenting a bunch of uninspired photographs hanging off the wall. The man was so pleased with this, that he complimented Sakura’s ninja skills and even offered to take a picture for them by the end. Free of charge.

Naturally, Sakura was excited about the whole picture thing. If she managed to pose next to Sasuke-kun, she could even cut the others out and it would look like they had taken a picture together, just the two of them.

Kyaaaa! Once they had kids, they could show them that picture, perhaps even display it next to their wedding photos, if it turned out well…

Some might call her daydreaming a flight of fancy, but Sakura preferred prophetical inspiration. By the time she’d finished fantasizing about her prophetical inspirations, Kakashi, Sasuke and Naruto were already standing in front of a wall with a forest backdrop, and Sakura suddenly felt lost. Each boy was at one side of Kakashi, standing a little closer to the camera than their sensei. The three looked harmonious as they stood there, symmetrical. Like there wasn’t space for one more person without ruining the picture. Sakura suddenly felt like she wouldn’t fit anywhere.

“Sakura-chan, you’re making us wait,” Kakashi piped up, tearing her from her defeatist thoughts. “C’mere.”

He waved her over, and somehow, Sakura suddenly found herself sandwiched between Sasuke-kun and Kakashi. The close proximity to her crush, was, if she was honest, the most romantic thing ever, even if the position was a little uncomfortable.

Chaaa! This must be fate! Sakura thought excitedly. Her prophecies were reliable after all! That, or Kakashi had decided to indulge in some match-making himself. Either way, neither Sasuke nor Naruto looked all too thrilled by the new arrangement. Naruto, because he wanted to be next to Sakura, and Sasuke because he didn’t. The only one who was absolutely pleased was Sakura herself, who wasn’t even sure whether she’d ever stood so close to Sasuke-kun before. She could almost even sniff his shampoo! Unfortunately, Sasuke seemed to have sensed this and inched away from her ever so subtly. But to someone as attuned to him as Sakura was, his maneuver was glaringly obvious. Mortified that she’d been caught sniffing him, of all things, Sakura could feel heat creep up her face.

“Ready?” asked the photographer. “Three, two, one…”

–her perfectly practiced smile suddenly felt strained–

“Say kunai!”

In that exact moment, Shi-chan came flying out of nowhere and alighted on Sakura’s arm, causing her and Kakashi to twitch, while Sasuke glared at the attention-seeking crow suspiciously. Naruto, sensing his chance, used the distraction to prop himself up on Kakashi and jump forward as he flashed the photographer his headband – clearly some sort of ploy to seem taller than Sasuke.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was the only one who cheerfully intoned ‘kunai’ as instructed, while Sasuke gave some kind of intelligible mutter that was blocked by the collar of his shirt. Sakura was too busy keeping her cosmetic smile in place and trying to will her flush to disappear.

 

The final product was a photograph which only Kakashi appeared satisfied with, seeing as Sasuke’s maneuvering had resulted in him looking a lot shorter than everyone else, while Naruto, whose wild jump had him seem taller, had ended up with Kakashi giving him devil horns for his troubles.

Sakura, meanwhile, had been very much mortified at the thought that Sasuke had caught her sniffing him, so she’d ended up blushing and with a fake smile that was betrayed by her widened eyes. Well, at least her blush looked cute.

The only one who seemed to be absolutely at ease and clearly thriving on the chaos he’d created was Kakashi himself, who was giving the camera a happy smile.

 

 

Their mission had ended with Naruto getting into a tiff with the photographer, who had refused to retake the picture on account of it being too funny. Sakura could’ve perhaps convinced him, but  Kakashi would’ve done something to ruin it again, so she didn’t even bother. In the end, all members of team seven had left the shop with the newly-printed photograph in their packs, even though Naruto had spitefully announced that he’d flush it down the toilet.

(Later, Sakura would catch it framed upon his night table.)

 

It was after such an eventful last mission that team seven began to once again pester Kakashi to teach them about elemental chakra. Kakashi, surprisingly enough, agreed that a promise was a promise, and that he would teach them, but just the basics. Then he lead them to a weapons shop down the road, because apparently he needed to retrieve something important first.

“Oh, oh!” Naruto had exclaimed excitedly. “What are we gonna buy?” He kept guessing even as Kakashi got into a conversation, aka bargaining match, with the clerk. “Do you think he’s gonna buy a sword?” Naruto pondered. “I’m so pumped about this!”

“Idiot,” drawled Sasuke. “Why would he want a sword to teach us about elemental chakra?”

“Sasuke-kun is right,” Sakura piped up. “I think he’s going to buy chakra paper since I read in a book that–“

“Bah, that’s so lame, Sakura-chan!” Naruto interrupted. “I bet Sensei has something cooler in store!”

 

As it turned out once they made it to their usual training ground, chakra paper was exactly what Kakashi had in store.

“Oh, I knew you’d get that, believe it!” Naruto exclaimed knowingly.

“Tch. Idiot,” was Sasuke’s sole contribution.

Sakura resisted the urge to sock Naruto on the head.

“That’s great, Naruto,” said Kakashi drolly. “Very insightful of you.”

“Ahahaha! Of course! I’m the most insinful ninja there is!”

“Insightful, dobe,” Sasuke corrected.

Kakashi seemed not to have noticed the mistake. “So, in light of your contribution, I’m guessing you know all about chakra paper, Naruto. Why don’t you share with the class?”

Naruto stilled. “Ehm, uhhh. Chakra paper… is… paper made of chakra, believe it!” When everyone only stared at him blankly, he frowned. “What? Is it not?”

“Chakra isn’t tangible,” said Sakura blankly.

Kakashi chuckled. “I’ll explain then. Chakra paper is a special kind of paper which reacts to your chakra when infused into it. Depending on what it does, a person is able to tell what kind of chakra nature they have.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Naruto. “I bet I’ll have sexy chakra! I’m really good at the sexy no jutsu, ya know?”

No one was listening. Sakura, at least, was too enthused to. Would she have water chakra? It was the most graceful of natures, to be sure. She could only imagine how beautiful she’d look amidst her glimmering water attacks. Or perhaps wind chakra? It wasn’t visible the way water was, but she was sure that it would allow her to greatly improve upon the kunai throwing technique she was working on. But what about fire chakra? If she had a chakra nature like Sasuke’s, it would be the perfect excuse to go on a training spar but secretly a date with him! Earth, on the other hand, seemed useful too, seeing as it was a very defensive chakra nature, and just what Sakura could use to boost her (very lacking) defense a little. Last, there was lightning, which, if you asked Sakura, was the coolest chakra nature there was. Kakashi’s chidori was truly so pretty with all the flashing lights and all. Unfortunately, Sakura had heard that it was the hardest to control, and only very strong ninja had enough pain tolerance to harness it, seeing as it was apparently not very pleasant on the skin. So Sakura may think it cool, but she didn’t fancy getting an ugly epidermis not to mention pain, each time she performed a jutsu…

In any case, she surmised, whatever Nature she got didn’t matter because all of them were super cool, and her above-average chakra control would help her master it.

“Alright, Sasuke, why don’t you go first?” Kakashi encouraged.

Sasuke took the paper, which, strangely enough, wrinkled almost as soon as he touched it.

“Cool!” cheered Naruto. “But we already knew the teme has fire nature! Can I go now?”

Kakashi sighed. “This means he has lightning nature, Naruto.”

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow.

“Like you?”

Kakashi nodded. “You obviously have a fire nature as well, just like every Uchiha. But lightning? That’s interesting.”

“Interesting, blah, blah, blah. Can I go now?” Naruto repeated impatiently.

Kakashi swatted him with the paper for his impatience, yet nevertheless handed it over. This time, it took a little longer for Naruto to concentrate, but soon, enough, the paper had suddenly broken into two. It was a clean cut.

“Wind nature,” Kakashi said.

“Huh? Oh, cool! We can team up to create a combo, teme!”

Sasuke sniffed, but didn’t seem all that averse to the idea. “We’ll see if you even manage it, idiot.”

“HAH? I won’t lose to you, Sasuke!”

Meanwhile, Sakura was losing her patience. “Guys, it’s my turn now…”

“Sorry, Sakura-chan,” Naruto said excitedly. “Ne, sensei, what chakra nature makes wind stronger? I bet Sakura-chan will have it!”

Sakura ignored him and took the proffered paper. She channeled her chakra and…

Nothing happened.

“Uh, Sakura-chan?” Kakashi said. “You’re supposed to channel your chakra into it.”

“I-I’m on it,” Sakura stuttered, but still nothing happened, no matter how much chakra she sent into the paper.

“What are you waiting for, Sakura-chan?” Naruto said impatiently. “C’mon! We need to get started on our training already!”

Sakura felt herself growing desperate. Why? Why wasn’t it working for her? Why was she always the odd one out? To her mortification, she found that she had started crying. And she had managed to do so well at holding it back in front of Sasuke-kun until now, too. Crybaby, indeed.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not working,” Sakura confessed miserably. “I don’t have a chakra nature!”

“That’s not possible,” said Sasuke. “Everyone has one.”

“Yeah, Sakura-chan. I’m sure you have a chakra nature too, believe it.”

Despite herself, Sakura felt herself smile, even as the tears dripped down. Both her teammates… they were trying to cheer her up, in their own way. She was lucky to have them. Sakura felt even more tears coming as she wondered whether it worked the other way around too? Perhaps Sasuke was right. No, there was no question about it – he was. She was the weakest link, the crybaby, the one without a chakra nature.

And a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

Was she making her team weak?

At some point, she realized that her teammates had started to train without her, leaving her to cry by herself. Somehow, that made the hurt worse. She really was pathetic, Sakura concluded. Even now, she was holding them back by expecting them to drop everything just to comfort her and her delicate sensibilities!

Sakura hated that part about herself, the whole crying part. She thought she’d gotten over it upon befriending Ino, but apparently she was only confident as long as things were easy. And she wanted it to stop. She wanted to be like Ino, who would’ve reacted by throwing a fit, maybe, locking the tears away until she was alone. Sakura wanted to be like that too, to compartmentalize and be tough even when her tear ducts began to act up. She swore to herself that she would train more and cry less from now on. It was a resolution that had her calming down a little. Or perhaps she’d only gotten the resolution after calming down. Either way, Sakura had managed to put a stop to the mortifying water works and was cleaning the evidence with a tissue.

“Feeling better?” a voice asked suddenly. It was Kakashi, and somehow, even though Sakura had just promised herself not to long for people to comfort her all the time, his presence already made her feel a little better.

Sakura nodded. “Yeah, sorry…”

“Even if it turns out that you can’t use elemental jutsu,” Kakashi said seriously, “I’ll teach you a different jutsu instead, okay?”

Sakura nodded. “Thanks, sensei. You really are the best. I’m sorry for burdening you guys with all this crying.”

“It’s fine, Sakura-chan,” came his reply along with his usual smile. “I think Naruto would’ve thrown a much worse tantrum in your place, don’t you?”

Sakura would’ve liked to believe him, but… “He wouldn’t have cried.”

Kakashi sighed, looking uncomfortable. “You know, Sakura-chan,” he said finally, “crying is good. Not too often, if you can help it. But still. Do you know how it’s something the Yamanaka I went to always scolded me about not doing?”

Sakura giggled, despite herself. Despite the fact that Kakashi had just told her that he visited some kind of… psychologist, the way he’d said it brought a smile to her face.

“He told you to cry? Like, just like that?”

“Yes. It was such an awkward conversation, and we had it over and over.”

“And…?”

“Well, unfortunately, I seem to lack the ability.”

“What?” said Sakura. “But that’s…”

“Not something you want happening to you,” said Kakashi, calmly. “It’s not something I can control, either. But if I had a choice? I’d prefer to be able to have a good, old-fashioned water-works show every once in a while.”

Sakura giggled. Her sensei really was the oddest person, admitting those kinds of things. But strangely, Sakura suddenly felt that that openness was a form of strength, even if Sasuke-kun was never open like that.

“Do you really mean it?” asked Sakura. But wait? What if he was lying? Suspicion was starting to bloom in her mind. “What is even crying good for? I get the feeling that you’re just making this up to make me feel better, sensei. I mean, I appreciate it, but…”

Kakashi shook his head. “Hmm, I suppose I can see why you’d think that. Most shinobi think that emotion is a weakness… but repressing it doesn’t mean it goes away. Hmm, how should I explain this.” He then pulled something out of his pocket. It was kind of like a balloon, but not–

“Is that–“

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

Sakura’s mortification had reached new levels, her face suddenly on fire. It was a condom. A condom! She had only ever heard stories about those things from the lecherous boys in her class, but she was fairly sure that it was.

“Sensei, you’re so improper! What are you even doing with that! PUT THAT AWAY!”

“What?” said Kakashi. “This is just a balloon. What else would it be?”

Sakura hadn’t ever seen a condom before, so she couldn’t exactly argue. Nor did she want to. Still, what on earth was he up to now? It better not be something perverted…!

But then she was distracted when Kakashi ambled over to the little lake Naruto had once hid in and dipped the… balloon into the water. Sakura once again was busy thinking and lamenting about the weirdness of her sensei, her earlier thoughts and worries so completely gone that it took her a moment to refocus on the conversation when Kakashi said:

“This balloon is you.”

Sakura looked at him suspiciously. “Okay…?”

“And the water are all your problems.”

“Uhuh.”

“So, tell me, Sakura-chan,” continued Kakashi. “What would happen if you were to keep pouring and pouring problems into it without stopping?”

Sakura was kind of starting to see where this was going. “It would… it would burst and make a mess.”

“Exactly,” said Kakashi, looking pleased. “However, if I…” he took a senbon from his pocket and popped the balloon neatly, resulting into a small hole which sprinkled water about. “do this, then it won’t ever burst, ne?”

Sakura suddenly understood: the little stream of water represented her tears, which may be a little annoying, but truly nothing compared to the balloon bursting at full capacity…

She blinked. Why was her oddball of a teacher such a strange combination of insightful and perverted? “You’re right…”

“Hey!” Naruto shouted. “Are you guys gonna start a water balloon fight? Cuz I want in!”

“Get back to training the jutsu I taught you,” Kakashi said dryly, ignoring the rest of Naruto’s exclamations and pocketing the… balloon. “And this is why, Sakura-chan, crying every now and then is good.”

“Yeah, but I still have some pretty bad timing,” Sakura asserted.

“Ah, well that makes two of us.”

“Better late than never,” Sakura advised.

“Hm, wise words indeed. So,” he looked at her with a quirked brow. “Ready to try again? This time I’ll use my sharingan to try and tell what’s going on.”

Sakura nodded, feeling much better already, and pulled out her chakra paper.

“…it’s soaked,” deadpanned Kakashi.

“That’s the crybaby no jutsu for you,” said Sakura jokingly.

“What mighty prowess indeed,” Kakashi commented with a chuckle. “Good thing I have a spare.”

And so Sakura tried to infuse her chakra into the paper again. And again, absolutely nothing happened. The chakra paper may as well have been a completely normal piece of paper for all the good it did.

“Hmm,” said Kakashi after a few minutes of intense scrutiny with his sharingan. “I’m not sure, exactly, but it really seems like your chakra doesn’t have any nature.”

“Ah,” said Sakura uncertainly. “Can you tell me more?”

“Well… it’s hard to describe,” Kakashi said pensively. “Your chakra interacts strangely with the paper. It’s almost like it’s too thin, but… not. I’m not sure.”

“Do you think something is wrong with my chakra?”

He looked confused. “It could mean a number of things. But I’m really not an expert in this, so I don’t know.” Kakashi frowned. “It could be a consequence of your chakra control. I’ve never seen chakra so thin as yours – even medics usually have it more defined, so to speak.”

“So I guess my good chakra control is a double edged sword, huh?” concluded Sakura.

“Yes, but it’s also an amazing asset to have,” Kakashi told her. “Many of the hardest ninja disciplines require it. Chakra healing, for instance. Chakra string creation for puppeteering, as well. Even fuinjutsu. Those are just the first few options I could think of, and none of them require elemental chakra.”

Sakura frowned. “I guess.”

“Listen, elemental jutsu are very draining,” Kakashi continued. “Most ninja put a lot of effort into learning them, but, sometimes I wonder whether all the time I’ve spent on them really could’ve been invested better.”

Sakura blinked. “You mean besides for being late to everything?”

“Ma, I’m never late to the bookstore.” Kakashi quipped, but then sobered. “As you know, I have problems with frequent chakra depletion. Remember Wave?”

Sakura nodded, recalling that particular horror story well. “Wasn’t that because of your sharingan?”

“Yes. It drains a lot of my chakra, which is why I try not to use it if at all possible,” Kakashi explained. “However, sometimes the situation calls for it.” He paused significantly. “And as you can probably guess, having very chakra-consuming elemental jutsu as my only trick to rely on in those cases really doesn’t help my problem.”

Sakura gaped, suddenly viewing Kakashi the shinobi in an entirely different light. “That’s… I’d never thought of it like that.”

“See what I mean, Sakura-chan?” Most people at your age make the mistake of only wanting to learn elemental jutsu. But when you get to where I am, a lot of people try to replace them for other skills. Have you ever wondered what kind of shinobi ANBU are?” Sakura shook her head mutely. “They’re the kind who can outlast everyone else with just a katana and their wits. Most of them know elemental jutsu, and most of them don’t use them unless the situation forces their hand. There are exceptions,” he added sheepishly, “but for the most part, you get into ANBU by learning how to pace yourself.”

Sakura grinned. “You aren’t very good at pacing yourself though.”

“Ah, but did I ever claim to have joined?”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “You seem to know its inner workings pretty well for someone who hasn’t. And you told me about that ANBU captain, remember?”

Kakashi chuckled. “As it happens, I don’t.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him. “Hm. Anyway, I hope it didn’t also slip your mind that you promised to teach me another jutsu if it turned out that I can’t use elemental chakra.”

“Uh, but that was to cheer you up…”

“That’s not how promises work!” Sakura sputtered. Then, slyly: “Do you want me to start crying again?”

“They grow up so fast…” Kakashi sighed mournfully. “Alright, I’ll teach you a jutsu. Any ideas?”

“Actually, yes.” Sakura had always found it cool when Kakashi puffed away all of a sudden, and had been wanting to try it herself. So she relayed as much to him.

“The shunshin, huh?” Kakashi considered speculatively.

He seemed to hesitate, and Sakura felt her heart sink.

“What, do you think I can’t do it either?” she challenged, trying to put on a brave face.

“Uh, well… it is a lot harder than what those two are learning.” He frowned. “And dangerous. The speed at which this jutsu allows a person to travel means that you won’t be able to see where you’re going.”

Sakura blinked. “Then how do you do it? Why aren’t jonin constantly bumping into things?”

“In my case,” said Kakashi, “I have the sharingan to see. Though I don’t use it for this kind of thing. What most of us do, I would wager, is combine memory with chakra sensing. For a shunshin not to kill you, you have to know each building by heart, or at the very least, the route you plan on taking. That knowledge, you combine with some chakra sensing in order to tell whether you’re are about to bump into anyone, and… that’s it.”

“Oh,” said Sakura, a little disappointed. “It seemed cooler before. Does this mean that no one can use it outside of familiar territory?”

“Pretty much,” said Kakashi. “Unless your name is Uchiha Shisui.”

Sakura blinked, not understanding the comment, but unwilling to get off topic. “So, will you teach me?”

“I’ll agree to it once you are capable of sensing me before I appear in the mornings,” Kakashi decided. “And that goes for you two as well,” he added, talking to what appeared to be bushes. It was only when Naruto and Sasuke stepped out of them that Sakura realized that they were not, in fact, bushes.

“See what sensing is good for?”

“How does one even do it?” Naruto shouted. “I wanna learn that shinshin thing as well!”

“Shunshin, idiot,” Sasuke corrected. “And count me in, Kakashi.”

“Ah, well, don’t you guys prefer to learn the jutsu I taught Sakura yesterday? It allows you to measure distances.”

“That’s what it does?” Naruto exclaimed. “Pffft! Lame.”

“What was that?” Sakura shouted.

“Ahhhh, I didn’t mean you, Sakura-chan!”

“Well it sure sounded like it!”

They bickered until Sasuke interfered by asking Kakashi how to sense chakra. Sakura, naturally, immediately forgot about Naruto and tuned in.

“Well,” said Kakashi. “Sensing is tricky.”

“So…?”

“So you’ll have to do some soul searching to learn.”

It was all three of them, in that moment, that joined in glaring at the man like he was the devil incarnate.

“LIAR!”

 

 

Notes:

So? How was it?

Chapter 5: Bad News

Summary:

Kakashi smells a crow, pesters the hokage, and reads his book. Meanwhile, team ten makes an appearance... and Itachi receives bad news.

Notes:

Hello there! Normally, I'd post this later (like, on the eighteenth), but the quarantine is boring, what can I say. So here you go. Extra large 14k chapter for you guys.
Reviews are my fuel, so please leave a comment if you like it :)

PS. The picture at the end is a weird piece of foreshadowing. Please don't make fun of it. Anyway. Merry reading!

“Ne, Sakura-chan, what are you doing? Sakura-chaaaaan.”

It was the fifteenth time Naruto had asked the question. He, Sakura and Sasuke were waiting for Kakashi already at the training ground, a new habit which had started since the day he had introduced team seven to nature transformations. In the three days that had passed since then, they had all tried to sense Kakashi’s presence with various degrees of success. The majority of the attempts had involved throwing kunai at unsuspecting rabbits – courtesy of Naruto – or hiding explosion tags and other miscellaneous traps around the area – courtesy of Sasuke. After the fifth rabbit had bitten Naruto, and an explosion had gone off that felled a giant tree and nearly killed Sakura, both Naruto and Sasuke had lost interest in the seemingly pointless pursuit, opting to use the time they spent waiting to hone their newest nature chakra skills instead.

“Can’t you tell, Naruto?” answered Sakura in a rather inexpressive voice. “I’m practicing my sensing.”

Naruto gave her an odd look. “Really?” he asked skeptically.

“Really,” affirmed Sakura blandly, and then proceeded to ignore him.

It wasn’t long until Naruto had returned to trying to cut a leaf with his chakra. Sasuke was also busy practicing with his nature chakra, though Sakura had been feeling a little tongue-tied around him lately, so she hadn’t asked exactly what he was doing. Not to mention, the topic of chakra natures was still a sore one for her. Unlike her teammates, Sakura had had no choice but to focus solely on sensing… but there was no point in feeling sorry for herself. She was done with that. Instead, Sakura had promised herself she’d make the best of what she had. And thinking this, she’d taken the paper ninja approach and sat down for a long while in her room and thought the whole sensing thing over.

 

In the case of water-walking, Sakura had mastered the skill as soon as she’d understood how it worked. It wasn’t like that for other people, apparently, but to Sakura, grasping the involvement of surface-tension in relation to body weight and water currents had made all the difference. So if she could understand the logic behind sensing, Sakura figured, she could master it.

Turns out, water-walking didn’t hold a candle to sensing in terms of complexity. As much as she thought it over, Sakura just couldn’t understand it. Sensing, the sixth sense which all elite ninja seemed to have, the sixth sense which allowed them to perceive chakra… it was a very useful skill, that much was clear, but how did it work? Was there some sort of organ in charge of it? She knew there were some visual dojutsu, such as the sharingan and the byakugan, which permitted the user to see chakra; yet sensing was another matter entirely.

 

Sakura wished there was someone she could ask all her questions, but Kakashi had made it clear that sensing was something his students would have to figure out themselves …and Sakura didn’t know any other elite ninja. She wasn’t like most of the other children in her Academy class, who could just ask their parents and get more than just answers. It wasn’t like she could just go to a library and look it up either: information was the currency of the shinobi world, and, unless they were from a clan, a genin, or even a chunin, had little to no hopes of getting their hands on it. Naturally, Sakura was a first generation shinobi, which was a fancy euphemism for ‘clanless’, or in other words: she was doomed.

Back at the Academy, she had taken to say that she was from the Haruno clan, almost as though the name had meant something. And to an extent, it did. Because, to children, a clan was just that: a cool name used for introductions, and it really couldn’t compare to how many of those exclusive, super cool marbles one had. Yes. Back then, it had all been simpler.

But that was in the past, because unfortunately, as much as present Sakura might sing the praises of the Haruno clan, she knew that no doors would open for her. At thirteen years old, she was now a genin, an adult in the eyes of the law, and no fib would help her. So she was stuck having to figure out chakra sensing by herself. She had no idea through were she was supposed to sense in the first place, but she would try anyway.

Initially, Sakura had theorized that, as all beings had chakra, it may be a good idea to focus on sensing other things first, such as plants and animals, before attempting to track down a seasoned jonin. So Sakura had gotten right on that, starting with an ant colony. The tiny ants were making their way up a tree and Sakura had swiftly become their most dedicated follower (which probably explained Naruto’s baffled questioning). It was the very tree the blonde had once gotten stuck dangling from, courtesy of Kakashi, and now Sakura was scaling it with her chakra to follow the ants’ progress – though Naruto seemed to think that she was rigging some sort of snare to get back at Kakashi for trapping him. Naruto had even offered to help her avenge him, even though Sakura kept assuring him that she was not trying to trap an elite jonin with a simple snare, she was not delusional, thank you. Unfortunately, Naruto seemed to think that if Kakashi had fallen for one of his pranks (exibit one: the chalkboard eraser he’d dropped on the man’s head) he’d fall for anything.

The blonde pestering Sakura to prank Kakashi as Sakura crawled up a tree and shot the occasional lovesick glance at Sasuke had become their newest routine.

On the first day of this, Sakura hadn’t made all that much progress with the whole chakra sensing thing, though she had learned a hell of a lot more than she’d ever wanted to about ants. Needless to say, when Kakashi had arrived at the training ground later on, Sakura had gladly moved on to practicing the chiheisen, and later on, air walking with Stalker-san.

By mid-morning on her second day of sensing practice, she felt a little like she was… well, almost aware of the ants puttering about beneath the bark of the tree… but she wasn’t sure whether she was imagining their presence or if it was real.

And now, on her third day, Sakura was almost sure that she either could sense the ants beneath the bark… or she was going crazy. Hopefully it was the former. Earlier, she had gotten a similar feeling – like there was something in one of the tree’s branches – but upon checking, she’d seen nothing. Perhaps, Sakura thought hopefully, I managed to sense a squirrel. Or Kakashi-sensei! Wouldn’t that be cool? Though… maybe she was getting a little ahead of herself.

 

The hardest thing about sensing, Sakura found, was the absolute concentration required for it to work. It was a little like the meditation exercises back at the Academy, Sakura thought. Those same exercises she’d usually spent giggling away with Ino rather than working. It hadn’t been until Sakura’s last year there, when there no longer had been an Ino to giggle with, that Sakura had truly begun to try to meditate. She wasn’t half bad at it , if she did say so herself. Though thoughts of Sasuke-kun and Ino-pig had usually ended up distracting her at one point or the other. But still. Many of her classmates had never even attempted to do it properly. In fact, she was almost certain that Naruto wouldn’t have been able to meditate to save his life–

Whoops…

Saskura’s mental alarm-clock (a useful habit for breaking Kakashi’s genjutsu) reminded her right then that she’d been spacing out, and so, suppressing a sigh, she returned her attention to the ant colony.

 

At first, she’d been bored by them, but now that Sakura could sort of, kinda, maybe tell what they were up to beneath the bark, the nerd in her was starting to stir. In her time observing them, Sakura had learned that there were apparently different types of ants, almost like they had jobs and everything. And wasn’t that a strange thought? She found their hive-like mind fascinating. From what she’d seen, if there was a shortage in a particular type of ant, some of the other ants would quit their previous jobs and kind of become warriors, or collectors, or anything really, instead. She knew better than to tell anyone about her strange fascination though. Sakura did not want to be branded a second Shino. No offense to him, but she had a reputation to uphold.

Reputation… what a strange concept, if she thought about it. As a child, a lot of kids had taken ‘Sakura of the mighty Haruno’ at face value, especially seeing as she was Yamanaka Ino’s best friend. She’d had a good reputation by proxy – and she’d taken it for granted.

It wasn’t until Sakura’s falling-out with Ino that she’d truly began to appreciate what she’d lost. As a preteen, others’ opinions about her had suddenly started to matter a lot more… and the fact that all of her previous friends had picked Ino over her had mattered too. Sakura’s way to cope had been to tell herself over and over that only Sasuke’s opinion was important.

After that had come the rumor that a year’s top kunoichi got paired on the same team with the rookie of the year… meaning, whoever made it to top kunoichi would get to be on Sasuke-kun’s team. Sakura had even snuck into the teacher’s lounge during break and riffled through the files… and indeed, there had been such a pattern. This came paired with the realization that Sakura herself was one of the lowest-ranking kunoichi in the class tally. Her chances of making it to number one in a year had been slim to none…

It had been a rude wake-up call.

 

And it was then that Sakura had truly begun to realize just how much of an advantage clan kids had over her. There was only one thing in her life that had been more embarrassing than confusing poor Stalker-san with a woman, and that had been asking some snotty eight-year-old clan kids for help with her taijutsu. Yes, Sakura had actually done that. She’d gotten stuck doing the brats’ homework as payment, as well as enduring their teasing and snide comments… and all that, just because she had been in desperate need of remedials. Things were a lot harder when she couldn’t ask Ino for help anymore.

Unfortunately, there was only so much the eight-year-olds could teach Sakura. In terms of combat ability, Ino had clearly been light years away from her. She was more flexible, more skilled, more muscly, knew a lot of secret clan forms that weren’t taught in the academy, and on and on the list went.

Everyone had known this, but Ino had made a point to rub it in whenever Sakura lost a spar anyway. However, there was one thing the blonde Yamanaka had underestimated about her: and that was a lonely fangirl’s determination.

In her social isolation, Sakura’s obsession with making it to Sasuke-kun’s team had grown and grown into a raging inferno, a fierce determination which had her improving at an abnormal rate, slowly but surely climbing ranks in the Academy tally. It had been a trial of love, to be sure. But Sakura was also working so hard because she couldn’t lose to Ino. The need to prove her own worth had suddenly become all-encompassing. It had been a drive to prove herself to all of her former friends who’d abandoned her for Ino… to prove that they’d been wrong. Sakura just had to do it, no questions asked. She’d become focused but sad. Sakura’s bubbly personality had disappeared along with her friends, and all that had been left was the girl that had wanted to win at any cost.

By winter break, she’d left her fellow civilians’ kids in the dust. It was around then that Ino had noticed that she was closing in on the clan children at an alarming rate, and the blonde had taken it as a personal challenge. Where Sakura had upped her taijutsu practice, Ino had hit the books with a vengenace and begun to score higher in exams. However, no one could compete with Sakura when it came to academics. She’d started to work with renewed vigor on extra-credit assignments and began to study late into the night, acing test after test.

It was with no small amount of surprise that Ino, who was still popular and busy maintaining her copious friendships, realized the dangers of a lonely Sakura, who had much more time to practice the Academy jutsu.

Due to this, to all of the teachers’ collective astonishment, Ino and Sakura had been completely tied for first place in terms of ninjutsu scores – this had become apparent even before the actual test. Naturally, Sakura had come out on top in the academical aspect of the course, having aced it, but with Ino close on her heels, she knew that the title of kunoichi of the year would be decided through the taijutsu test… which was Sakura’s absolute worst skill. After sneaking into the teacher’s lounge (where, to her chagrin, she’d met Ino, who had had the same idea) both girls had realized that, for Sakura to make it to kunoichi of the year, she’d need to place second during the final taijutsu exam, which consisted in a number of scored spars among the future kunoichi.

There had been just one problem: in Sakura’s year group, there were two clan heiresses – Hyuga Hinata and Ino herself – and that was one too many. Because Sakura needed to be second if she wanted to ever get noticed by Sasuke-kun. She needed to be second if she wanted to beat Ino. She just had to be. It was all she’d lived and breathed for during an entire year. But she wasn’t delusional. Her taijutsu may have improved thanks to those eight-year-olds, but she had known that she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual spar against Hyuga Hinata, never mind Ino.

But this late in the game, losing wasn’t an option. Not when the sorry remnants of Sakura’s reputation – of her bloody self worth, or was it bloodied? – were at stake. Sakura had been desperate. She couldn’t lose to Ino.

So she had done the only thing she could do and bet it all on winning the spar against Hinata – in the worst way possible: by cheating. She had used the formal bow at the beginning of the spar to crouch low and throw sand into the poor girl’s sensible eyes, which just so happened to be Hinata’s greatest weapon. And while Hinata was rubbing at them, Sakura had struck, and Sakura had won.

 

 

She had won.

She had won at the cost of the very reputation she’d been trying to protect.

She had played dirty, resorted to the cheapest tricks, taken advantage of Hinata’s naive nature… and everyone had seen it, and everyone had judged her. She’d cried herself to sleep that night.

 

But Sakura had placed second, and she had won; she was in Sasuke’s team – she had shown Ino. Since then, she could barely stomach practicing her taijutsu. Since then, Sakura had stopped training and lost the muscle she’d managed to gain, which hadn’t been all that much in the first place… aaaand she was getting sidetracked again.

 

 

It was a day like any other in Konoha, sunny and beautiful, the usual screams of training genin clogging the summer air in the distance. All was perfect, all was normal – well, almost normal. 

Today, team ten was getting a rather late start to their training, though this particular deviation from pattern didn’t bother them much. A certain Nara had taken the time to nap, whereas a certain Akimichi had utilized the occasion to eat more chips than he usually would have by now. The only member of their team who didn’t look content with their predicament was Ino Yamanaka. Asuma-sensei was late – by a lot – and she was not pleased.

“Ugh, can you believe this?” she exclaimed. “If Asuma-sensei keeps this up, he’s going to be even worse than Forehead’s sorry excuse of a teacher!”

“You mean Hatake Kakashi?” asked one of her teammates, who was currently munching on a pack of chips. “As in – the Copy Nin?”

“Who else, Choji?” said Ino with annoyance. “Of course I mean him! Ha. Complete oddball, if you ask me. He has such a bad reputation that no good looks he may have even matter!”

“Bad reputation?” echoed Shikamaru dubiously. “He’s only the most powerful nin in our village?” 

“I’m not talking about that kind of reputation,” Ino dismissed.

“Then what?”

“Maybe the fact that he reads porn at all hours of the day, is late to everything, and sasses at everyone like he’s some entitled hotshot!”

“Right…” said Choji, but Ino was already on a roll.

“I mean, fine, I’ll admit, he has some nice pecs (from what I have been able to glean) but unfortunately, he insists on concealing three quarters of his face and wearing all baggy, monotonous attires, so it’s not like he puts them to good use either!” Ino shouted.

“Ah… right. My bad, Ino,” Shikamaru deadpanned.

Meanwhile, Choji opened a new bag of chips. “I didn’t know you were ranking the jonin based on their physical appearance.” He sounded put off by it.

Ah, poor muffin, thought Ino. He was feeling self-conscious!

“Don’t worry, Choji,” she reassured. “I’m not ranking you or anyone else. Just Sakura and anything related to her ugly mug. And ,” Ino sniffed, “I’ve got to say, she’s pulled the short end of the stick in the sensei department. I wouldn’t wish Hatake Kakashi upon anyone.”

“I suppose then it’s extremely unlucky that I’m here,” said a new voice.

The three genin turned all at once, and were met, to Ino’s unending mortification, with Kakashi Hatake himself, who was reading an orange book even as he balanced precariously on the water deposit on top of the hill.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ino yelled shrilly, to which Shikamaru covered his ears and mumbled something about the situation being a drag.

Choji was the only one who actually bothered to address him. “Uh, Kakashi-sensei, right?”

“That’s right,” said Kakashi happily. The morning was still young and he was already enjoying himself. He paused. Well… noon, more like. Not so young then.

“You can go back to Forehead,” Ino told him petulantly. “We want Asuma-sensei or no one.”

“Too bad that he asked me to watch you kids for today then,” Kakashi countered, wholly unbothered by her tone. 

Oh shit , Ino could tell immediately… he was good. Where Asuma usually acted tired at her antics, slowly but surely allowing Ino inch after inch in whatever it was she was arguing about, Kakashi projected an aura of absolute indifference – almost in a zen kind of way. Even if he was reading porn.

“So,” the man in question commented flippantly, still not having looked up from his book. “Asuma said you should be learning how to tree-walk.”

They all stared at him expectantly, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Well?” snapped Ino. “Aren’t you going to teach us?”

Kakashi looked up for the first time, blinking in surprise. “Ah,” he said. “Sure.” He then proceeded to waltz up the water deposit and, once at the top, waved cheekily.

“That’s nice…” said Choji uncertainly, “but could you maybe give us an explanation?”

“Maa, just place some chakra on the soles of your feet,” Kakashi said. There was a prolonged pause. After readying another paragraph, he noticed they were all still staring at him. “That’s it,” he added for their benefit. This said, he lied down upon the water-deposit and reopened his book. He then ignored them for the next half an hour, after which team ten had largely given up on the exercise. Shikamaru had followed Kakashi’s example and laid down to nap, while Choji had decided that no time was as good as the present for having more chips. Meanwhile, Ino was fuming as she muttered to herself angrily, dissing Kakashi in her monologue.

“I’d say he was sunbathing – sunbathing, of all things – but it’s not like there’d be much of a point to do that in his case! Freaking ew. The only skin he’s showing is his right eye and half of his fingers…!” After a while of such enraged muttering, Ino had moved on to insulting her rival, claiming that she should’ve been in Sasuke’s team instead of Sakura. It wasn’t anything Shikamaru and Choji hadn’t heard before. To Kakashi, however, it was new and he listened with interest.

 

“Between Forehead and I, clearly I am the superior fighter!” Ino ranted at Choji, who mused that perhaps she was attempting to inadvertently tarnish Kakashi’s opinion of Sakura. Or perhaps Ino was just being Ino and venting. “In the Academy end of term exam she even cheated in the final spars!” the blonde was complaining. “She played dirty against Hinata – it’s not like she won out of skill, she won by throwing sand in her face! And all just so she could get to be in a team with Sasuke-kun! But I could take her in a fight any day! Forehead didn’t deserve the spot of kunoichi of the year! It should’ve gone to me ! She only got it due to cheating and her stupid chakra control, even though she only controls it so well because she barely has any chakra period, and her stupid perfect grade in the tests is only owed to her being a nerd!”

 

Up on his perch on the water deposit, Kakashi was listening with some interest to Yamanaka Ino’s claims. It was news to him that Sakura had graduated as kunoichi of the year. Back when he’d first taken on team seven, he’d opened her file, seen that she wasn’t from a clan (thank god, he had enough of clans for a lifetime) and, satisfied for the reprieve, closed said file and proceeded to entirely forget about the matter next second. But now his negligence was coming back to bite him… And hang on, weren’t Yamanaka Ino and Hyuga Hinata in Sakura’s year as well? How on earth had Sakura made kunoichi of the year? He concluded that the level of the Academy must’ve truly sunk low in the past few years, if Sakura was the best they could produce… well, Yamanaka claimed that some of the other girls were better at taijutsu than Sakura (thank god, otherwise he’d be really worried), but even so, it was something worth digging into. It took a special kind of skill to make kunoichi of the year with a taijutsu as bad as Sakura’s. Apparently, where Sasuke was involved, she was as motivated as Gai on steroids. Interesting…

Kakashi’s curiosity was also somewhat picked by Ino Yamanaka’s claims of Sakura’s alleged ‘cheating’ during the sparring portion of the Academy’s final exams. He truly hadn’t pegged her as the type, even if, in his book, any trick in the book was fair. However, what had interested him the most out of the whole situation was Yamanaka Ino’s evident rivalry with Sakura. After all, Naruto’s rivalry with Sasuke had done wonders for the blonde’s improvement, and Kakashi wondered idly whether he could achieve similar results in his female student if he brought the Yamanaka girl into the equation. Sakura hadn’t quit yet, as he had originally assumed she would, so it was up to him to make sure she was skilled enough to avoid a repeat performance of her non-performance in Wave.

It truly hadn’t been his intention to do anything other than reading on top of the water deposit until the morning was over… but he’d changed his mind.

Kakashi gave himself a push and landed in front of Asuma’s team. The only one who’d noticed him was the Akimichi, seeing as the blonde was busy redoing her manicure while angrily muttering to herself. The Nara, predictably, was asleep.

For a few seconds, Choji and Kakashi eyed one another, even as the former contently munched on his chips.

“Uhh… Kakashi-sensei?” Choji broke the silence.

At this, Ino looked up, spotting him also, and then elbowed Shikamaru until he was awake.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Kakashi told them cryptically, and started to walk toward the usual training ground without waiting to see if they followed.

“Wait!” Ino shouted, running to catch up. “Where are we going?”

“To pay a visit to my team, naturally.”

“Huh?”

And you better deliver and put Sakura through her paces , Kakashi added mentally. The Ino-shika-cho formation was famous for their good teamwork, so perhaps Sasuke and Naruto could also learn something from them in that area. Though, if he was honest, Kakashi hadn’t seen a lot of team spirit in Asuma’s students for the moment.

“Visiting your team?” Choji prodded. “You mean team seven? Why?”

Kakashi hummed. “You see, my cute little students are practicing their sensing skills, so why don’t you use your infiltration and capture tactics to try and sneak up on them? Just an idea.”

“Try?” huffed Ino. “Hah. Once we’re done with Sakura’s team, they won’t know what hit them.”

“They have Sasuke, Ino,” reminded Shikamaru with a sigh.

“So what? We have some serious stealth training under our belts.”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes but didn’t complain.

 

---

When team ten finally made it to the training ground, they found Sasuke and Naruto wrapped up in a spar slash trash talk match, each trying to out-ridicule the other.

 

“Wait, where’s Sakura?” Ino whispered.

“She’s over there,” replied Choji. To their collective astonishment, Sakura was standing ramrod straight upside-down on a tree, her back turned to them.

She can tree-walk already? thought Ino with some shock. She then noticed that Sasuke and Naruto could as well, once their spar moved to the mini forest in the training ground. They could all tree walk? Even Naruto ? After the sad excuse of an explanation Kakashi had given team ten on tree walking?

Kakashi, meanwhile, was pleased. It looked like Ino’s competitiveness was already in effect.

Up on her tree, Sakura’s sixth sense for genjutsu suddenly went off, though the feeling was slightly different. Almost like the time she’d thought to have sensed a squirrel… only stronger. The back of her neck was prickling. And so, Sakura turned around and scrutinized the trees where she’d felt it.

 

Down bellow, Ino, Shikamaru and Choji had frozen on the spot.

“She’s looking straight at us!” Ino whispered with shock. Shikamaru had used a clan technique to darken the shadows around them, making them effectively invisible in their position… and yet Sakura had suddenly turned around and stared straight at them – was still staring.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was pleased.

“Yo, everyone,” he greeted the training ground at large, choosing that exact moment to make his students aware of team ten’s presence. With these words, he waltzed into the training ground, team ten trailing behind him, and now even Sasuke and Naruto were looking at them.

“Oi, Kakashi. What are they doing here?” Sasuke asked.

“Yeah, we’re your students, not those guys, believe it!” Naruto rejoined. Meanwhile, Sakura kept quiet but was looking at Ino with dismay. Ino, meanwhile, gave her former best friend a resentful look, one which Sakura returned in equal measure. The stare off was of course cataloged by a very much approving Kakashi. Maybe this would finally motivate Sakura into training. Ino just needed to beat her up in front of Sasuke and then she’d be so embarrassed, she would actually start working out. Yes, it was the perfect plan.

 

“Good morning, everyone,” his signature drawl interrupted their stare down. “I thought we could do a little exercise and see whose teamwork is better. What do you think?”

Both Sasuke and Naruto bristled.

“Tch,” was Sasuke’s eloquent objection.

Naruto put his unspoken words into spoken ones: “Our team is the best, believe it!”

“He said team work ,” Sakura emphasized, looking at Naruto disapprovingly.

“But Sakura-chan…”

“No buts, Naruto!”

Meanwhile, Ino had observed the exchange with a quirked eyebrow. And wasn’t it strange, she thought. Since when did Forehead call the class clown by his name? When had he stopped being ‘idiot’ and turned into Naruto?

“Well guys,” Kakashi concluded. “Since you’re also so agreeable, we’ll do the teamwork exercise.”

He was greeted by unenthusiastic silence. Naruto and Sasuke had begun to glare at one another, in a ‘don’t get in my way’ sort of fashion, while Sakura had started to fidget in place. Clearly, Ino surmised, Sakura could tell that she was about to lose.

“What a drag,” Shikamaru murmured next to her. He obviously wasn’t excited about a prospective face-off against team seven. On her other side, Choji had stopped shoveling chips into his mouth, which Ino knew meant he was preparing for a fight, but he didn’t seem very enthusiastic either.

“So what’s the exercise, Sensei?” Sakura then asked in a know-it-all voice, the one which made Ino want to punch her. It was a stilted tone, a tone Sakura often used when she was under pressure… which meant it had become her default for when she was near Ino. And it annoyed her to no end.

The shift in tonality hadn’t escaped Kakashi either, but, unlike the blonde, he was pleased by Sakura’s averse reaction. “Maa…” he pondered out loud. “How about a variation of the bell test?”

“The bell test?” Shikamaru repeated, his interest picked. Upon his teammates’ questioning looks, he explained: “I’ve heard my dad talk about it.”

Ah. Shikaku had talked about his bell test? Kakashi smiled. Interesting.

“All good things, I hope?”

Shikamaru gave him an odd look. “More like ‘one hell of a drag’ kind of things.”

“Tell him I say thank you.”

“Right.”

“Anyway,” Kakashi continued, digging in his pockets until he had four strips of cloth. He handed two of them to Sasuke and two to Choji. “Each team has two of these,” he began to explain without preamble. “One per teammate – that means one of you won’t have a bell.”

“Sensei, this is a torn cloth,” Sakura interrupted.

“Ma, we can pretend they’re bells, ne? I left the real ones at my flat.”

They all stared at him blankly.

“Okay, so we have two ‘bells’ in each team,” Ino interrupted. “Now what?”

“There’s just one rule:” Kakashi asserted. “Whoever gets a bell has to keep it on their person at all times. The exercise ends when one team has obtained all of the other team’s bells. You have three minutes to chose a strategy. Go.”

And off they went. Kakashi chuckled as he watched the six children loudly scamper through the underbrush, all the while hissing at one another to be quiet and “don’t tell me what to do, Sasuke!” followed by “shut up, Naruto” and “sorry, Sakura-chan!”. His genin were so cute. He would have to check on them to see if their teamwork had improved at all. When he found the three kids, they were crouched in a circle.

“Alright,” Sakura was whispering importantly. “I think we should decide the two of us who get a bell and then we can talk strategy.”

So far so good. There was a brief silence.

“I think I should get a bell, believe it,” was Naruto’s opening statement.

“An idiot like you?” had been Sasuke’s immediate response… and the situation went downhill from there. Two minutes later and the boys were still arguing, having basically wasted their precious three minutes by fighting, rather than coming up with any kind of strategy. Kakashi bit back a sigh as he watched the two boys argue back and forth about the alleged incompetence of the other, with Sakura watching on from the sidelines, looking frustrated and shy all at once. Kakashi figured that, for team seven’s dynamic to ever work, either Sakura would eventually have to work up the courage to get the boys in line when needed, or the two would have to grow out of their idiocy. He didn’t see either option happening any time soon and wondered idly what he should do about it, if anything at all. Without another glance in their direction, Kakashi left them to it and set to tracking down Asuma’s team.

 

 

Meanwhile, his genin had kept arguing on and on, until finally, when twenty seconds were left, Sasuke had given Sakura the remaining bell, much to Naruto’s outrage. However, Kakashi was left with the impression that Sasuke hadn’t given her the bell out of any respect for her skills, but rather to one-up Naruto. 

The clone’s eyebrow rose when he noticed the expression on the girl’s face. “Hey, Naruto, c’mere.” Sakura beckoned the blond over as Sasuke was busy concealing his ‘bell’ in his weapons pouch, taking advantage of Sasuke’s inattention.

“Sakura-chan?” asked Naruto uncertainty.

Sakura impatiently gestured for him to get closer.

“S-sakura-chan?” Naruto repeated again, his face starting to resemble a ripe tomato, even as he stepped closer. Sakura regarded him critically. Pulling a tissue out of her backpack, she stepped closer to Naruto and pretended to remove an eyelash from his cheek. Once done, she stepped back and pocketed the tissue.

“Sakura-chan, what was that?” Naruto stuttered. Even Sasuke was looking at them curiously, just as the real Kakashi’s far off ‘time’s up’ call resounded through the training ground.

“You had an eyelash on your cheek,” Sakura told him matter-of-factly.

“Ah, uhh, thanks, Sakura-chan!” Naruto was still red in the face and was probably entertaining some sort of perverted fantasy, Sakura could tell. And it annoyed her, yes, but she was also proud that her deception had gone unnoticed. Because, while Naruto had been busy blushing, Sakura had taken advantage of his distraction and stuffed her ‘bell’ in his pants’ pocket. He would do a better job of keeping it – Sakura knew, just as she knew that she couldn’t let Ino’s team win. So she’d done the reasonable and given the bell to Naruto, who deserved it more. She had done so without him noticing, however, because Naruto was as subtle as an imploding bomb and would most likely reveal that he had one of the bells if he knew. And she may not be a very good fighter, but Sakura certainly could give her teammate the bell while misleading team ten into believing she had it. Still, she realized with some dismay that she, Naruto and Sasuke hadn’t even come up with a basic strategy to face team ten… they hadn’t even determined which match-ups to avoid… shit.

 

On the other end of the training ground, team ten was being somewhat more productive in the strategy department. They had immediately decided that, as their go-to close combat fighter, Choji was in the most danger of getting captured, so Shikamaru and Ino would be guarding the bells. And the next step, of course, was to determine who on team seven would have their targets.

“Naruto is obviously out of the question,” Ino was saying.

Shikamaru nodded. “He’s the dead-last and less subtle than a toddler. If for some miracle he does get one of the bells, we’ll be the first to know.”

“Yeah,” Choji agreed. “Sasuke was rookie of the year, and… as much as it may or may not be deserved,” he added with a side-glance at Ino, “Sakura graduated as the top kunoichi. So it’s obvious that they’ll be the ones with the bells.”

Shikamaru nodded. “The hardest part will be getting Sasuke’s bell. But if we plan this right, we may be able to surprise him.” He glanced around. “But I’m going to need your help for this.”

And so the planning began.

 

Three minutes later, both teams had reconvened at the center of the training ground, with Kakashi as their judge.

“Everyone ready?” asked the jonin.

“Sure am,” said Ino as she flipped her hair, smirking at an uncertain-looking Sakura.

“I was BORN ready, believe it!”

“Hn. Let’s get this over with.”

“What a drag…”

The only ones who didn’t say anything were Choji and Sakura, noted Kakashi with some interest. He knew of Sakura’s self-esteem problems. Could the Akimichi have similar ones?

“Maaa… then begin!”

 

And both teams jumped into action.

“Sakura, hide!” Sasuke commanded immediately. And loudly. Clearly, mused Kakashi, his student’s understanding of team strategy was somewhat different from Kakashi’s own. To Kakashi’s annoyance, Sakura immediately scurried off to do as he’d told her. If she had a bell, which was almost certain considering Sasuke’s instructions, then hiding wasn’t a bad strategy, per se… but Kakashi had intended for her to fight Ino, not play hide and seek.

Ino, on her part, had taken Naruto on in a spar. Kakashi figured that her mind possession jutsu was a bad match-up for Naruto’s clones. Still, Ino’s taijutsu technique was good, the famous Yamanaka forms and flexibility shining through her style, Naruto’s haphazard punches and kicks looking uncouth in comparison… especially as he was clearly holding back on account of his opponent being a girl. Kakashi once again felt the urge to sigh. It was a pity, seeing as, in terms of stamina, the Yamanaka heiress was so far behind Naruto that it was laughable. Kakashi imagined that she probably practiced her forms at home due to obligation but ignored all types of training which her parents didn’t force her into. Such as stamina training. The Academy truly wasn’t what it had used to be. But then again, Kakashi had attended during the war.

 

A loud exclamation had him tearing his eyes from Naruto and Ino’s spar. Sasuke, he noticed with some surprise, had been caught in Shikamaru’s shadow possession jutsu. Glancing around, Kakashi immediately understood how it had happened. Choji and Shikamaru’s approach to the spar had clearly been more tactical than Sasuke was used to. They’d taken advantage of his overconfidence to lead him into an area with a lot of trees, and hence, many shadows. The abundance of trees would’ve made Choji appear weaker due to his own jutsu’s inadequacy for many obstacles, which was probably Shikamaru’s intention all along. Sasuke must’ve taken the bait, and Shikamaru hadn’t waited twice before striking with his shadows.

Kakashi sighed. The Nara’s victory shouldn’t have surprised him, in hindsight. His intellect was well known among those who worked under his father. As he was thinking this, Choji and Shikamaru had retrieved Sasuke’s bell from his pouch and began to tie him up. All Sasuke could do in the meantime was glare, even as Shikamaru smirked down at him.

“How’s it feel losing to the losers, huh, Sasuke?”

Sasuke had glared some more, but Shikamaru’s smile remained unrepentant.

“Only Forehead left,” Naruto suddenly piped up, having appeared behind them.

Sasuke’s eyes widened , betrayed, as Naruto smirked cheekily and winked. “Mind control – complete.”

Kakashi could’ve facepalmed. Evidently, the real Naruto had underestimated Ino, refusing to pit his shadow clones against a girl, and had paid a steep price for it… namely, having his body stolen.

“Tie me up quickly, guys, so that I can return to my body!” the possessed Naruto then added, bossily and soon enough, the remaining members of team ten moved to do just that. A few minutes later, Sasuke and Naruto (who had come back to his senses) were sprawled on the floor, along with their pride, as team ten left to look for Sakura. Shikamaru instructed Ino to watch their prisoners while he and Choji went to look for Sakura, but unfortunately, Ino had other plans and left to look for Sakura herself.

And that was team ten’s mistake.

(“Tch, Sasuke. Can you free us?”

“Of course I can, idiot,” Sasuke had scoffed. “Now shut up so I can concentrate.”)

Ten minutes later saw Sasuke and Naruto charging against Choji and Shikamaru to get their revenge, while in another part of the training ground, Ino had finally managed to track down Sakura and they began to fight. Kakashi, being the awesome sensei that he was, made two shadow clones, one to survey each fight, and then returned to reading his book.

As it turned out, Sakura had used her extra time to rig some traps against Ino and was attempting to use them to her advantage. Unfortunately, they were all rather basic Academy-level traps, but still seemed to be effective in stalling Ino. The cloned Kakashi eyed the panting Yamanaka with some interest. Sakura’s traps were doing a good job at keeping her on her toes. If Kakashi had to guess, he’d say Sakura had a slight edge in the fight. Her stamina was slightly superior to Ino’s thanks to all the dog-chasing she’d been doing lately, she could tree walk, and last but not least, Sakura had had time to prepare traps. Ino, however, was already tired from fighting Naruto. Even so, she’d turned out to be a fierce opponent. Kakashi was almost startled at the blondes’ sudden fervor. He had guessed at the rivalry the two girl’s had, but he hadn’t imagined they’d take it that seriously.

Unfortunately, the tides turned as the spar wore on – in favor of Ino.

Sakura was putting up a brave fight, Kakashi had to say, but the sheer gap in the girls’ taijutsu skills was simply insurmountable, and Ino wasn’t pulling any punches. He was glad to see that neither was Sakura… but even so, it was becoming clear that she would lose.

His suspicion was confirmed when Ino finally tackled Sakura to the ground and performed the mind control jutsu – at the exact same time at which, on the other end of the training ground, Sasuke and Naruto beat Choji and Shikamaru with a combination of shadow clones and fireballs.

Smirking, Sasuke reached into Shikamaru’s weapons pouch and produced two bells, his own and Shikamaru’s. “I suppose I don’t know how to lose,” he said with a smirk that mirrored Shikamaru’s previous one.

 

“You guys may have two bells now,” Choji defended his friend. “But if Ino beats Sakura…”

“We’ll be at an impasse,” finished Shikamaru, his eyes narrowing.

“No way will that harpy win against Sakura-chan!” Naruto countered.

And yet, it was with no small amount of expectancy that all four of them looked over at Sakura and Ino. Ino was passed out on the ground, still half tackling Sakura, and bellow her, Sakura herself was clutching her head as though in immense pain. Or in other words, Ino was attempting a possession and Sakura was resisting.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto shouted. “Don’t let her get in your head!”

Why none of the boys was interfering was beyond Kakashi – or the Kakashi clone who had been watching the boys fight, anyway. They were all staring at the two girls, standing there and not doing anything. He imagined that Shikamaru and Choji might not be interfering because they knew that the proud Yamanaka would take it as an insult. Likewise, Naruto didn’t want to hit a girl. However, Kakashi didn’t think that Sasuke would have such compunctions, so he was curious as to why the Uchiha would stay back. Was he confident that Sakura would win? Or did he simply intend to bide his time?

The real Kakashi, who had been reading his book and was clueless as to what had transpired, closed Icha Icha and eyed the two girls warily. He hadn’t seen someone resist possession in a long while. And, while Ino may be inexperienced, he already knew from her fight against Naruto that she was perfectly capable of a regular possession. It was then that Sakura suddenly jerked, shrieked, and pushed Ino’s passed out form off of her.

“I won’t lose to you, Ino-pig!” Sakura yelled.

Ino, who had just returned back to her own body, shrieked incoherently, grabbed Sakura by her hair, pulled and punched her in the face. Sakura, who had still been slightly out of it from breaking the possession, wasn't fast enough to dodge, and the punch hit full on in her chin. It had clearly been one of the bad ones, too, because she swayed on the spot and passed out.

“NO!” Naruto shouted.

But it was too late: Ino was already digging through Sakura’s weapons pouch with a smirk.

“Looks like you guys won’t beat us after all,” Shikamaru drawled. “Huh.”

Yet Ino kept ruffling and ruffling, her movements increasingly desperate. “Where is it?” she shouted. “Where did Forehead put the bell?”

“What?” Naruto exclaimed.

“It’s not there?” asked Choji.

“No!”

In the midst of the chaos, someone chuckled.

“Heh.”

Everyone turned to stare as Sakura shakily got up. “Did you really think a punch was enough to do me in, Ino pig?” she taunted weakly. Fingers trembling, Sakura lifted a strip of cloth in the air and Ino started at it open-mouthed – it was the blonde’s bell.

“You… damn you, Sakura!” Ino shouted. “You pretended to be out so I wouldn't notice you reaching into my pouch, didn’t you!”

“That’s right, Ino,” said Sakura. “My team wins.”

“No!” shouted Ino. “You cheated, Forehead. The rules were that you had to have your bell on your person at all times, yet it’s not there!”

“My bell?” asked Sakura simply. “No, I don’t think so.” Everyone stared with baited breath as Sakura smiled. “It’s been in Naruto’s pocket this whole time.”

There was a second where everyone stared at her in pure disbelief, even Sasuke and Naruto.

“What?” Naruto shouted.

“That’s impossible,” Sasuke stuttered.

Kakashi, intrigued, jumped down to the field and spoke up. “Alright everyone. You can stop now. If what Sakura says is right, then victory goes to team seven. If not, I’ll assume you’ve cheated, Sakura-chan.”

 

Team seven stared at him blankly.

 

“Kakashi,” said Sasuke with a frown. “We gave the bell to Sakura. I was right there. I saw it. Team ten wins.”

Naruto looked equally upset, but began to pat down his pockets nevertheless. Just as he’d reached his left pant pocket, he stopped, a stumped look taking over his features as he retrieved a strip of cloth. It was the remaining bell.

“GAAAH! I can’t believe it!”

Team ten stared at him completely in shock, even as sudden understanding dawned on Sasuke. Smirking, he turned toward Sakura. “You had me fooled.”

Sakura, naturally, blushed and started to fidget. “It wasn’t like I had some master-plan or anything…” she muttered self-consciously. “I just figured Naruto could protect the bell better than me.”

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto shouted excitedly. “You’re the best!” He then tackled her into an entirely unexpected hug, which had Sakura stumbling and falling to the floor even as Naruto babbled his thanks for trusting in him.

Meanwhile, Kakashi had joined team ten in staring at his own team. They painted an odd picture: Sakura flushing and trying to pry Naruto off her, even as the blonde babbled thank yous at her with Sasuke smirking victoriously at them in the background. Kakashi sighed. They were still incapable of working as a team, but they were improving… he hoped.

 

Next to him, the members of team ten were looking rather sullen. Kakashi, being the petty man that he was, decided to rub it in:

“Maa, you should look underneath the underneath next time.”

Ino gave him a look at that which spelled murder, and even Shikamaru was looking pissed. Even so, none of them dared to contradict him, instead choosing to blame each other.

“Oi, isn’t thinking ahead supposed to be your thing, Shikamaru?” Ino demanded.

“How was I supposed to know she’d sneak a bell to Naruto ?”

“I can’t believe you let Forehead trick you!”

“She tricked all of us,” Choji piped up. “Please stop it, guys. We’ll see it coming next time.”

“Yeah, calm down, woman,” Shikamaru rejoined.

“I am calm!” Ino shouted in a distinctly agitated voice.

Meanwhile, Kakashi checked the sun, concluded that the morning was over – and thereby his obligation to Asuma’s team.

“You guys did a good job today,” he interrupted their fighting. “Your teamwork is better than my own kids’. But you need to work out more. All of you.” And yet he glanced pointedly at Ino. “When did you say the next stage of the chunin exams was?”

“I don’t know…” Shikamaru complained. “They keep pushing it back.”

“Hmm…” Kakashi pondered this information. Perhaps it was time to pay the hokage another visit. “You guys should go look for your sensei. He’s probably done by now.”

Choji nodded. “Will do, Kakashi-sensei.” He turned towards his teammates. “C’mon, guys.”

They both nodded at him, and soon enough, team ten was gone. Kakashi was confused. Was Ino their implicit leader, was it Shikamaru, or was it Choji? He didn’t understand their dynamic whatsoever, but he had come to the conclusion that it worked better than team seven’s. His plan had also backfired. Sakura had somehow managed to get off scot free without losing horrifically to Ino as he had planned. And since Ino hadn’t embarrassed her in front of Sasuke, she wouldn’t have the motivation to work out! Sigh. Why were genin so complicated? Deciding that he had better things to do, he puffed away, leaving his students behind to their own shenanigans. Better things – such as pestering the hokage.

 

When team ten finally made it to the training ground, they found, with no small amount of surprise, each member of team seven in deep concentration… even Naruto. From a shaded hiding place, Ino, Shikamaru and Choji watched, gaping, as the members of team seven trained. Kakashi surveyed the situation and wondered whether they’d be spotted or not.

 

 

---

 

Said Hokage was in the middle of a top-secret meeting with one Uchiha Itachi. The elders of the Konoha council were seated next to him and Itachi was crouching deferentially on the floor before them as he delivered his report. They had chosen to assemble in one of the unused buildings that belonged to the kage but were rarely used, which is why the sudden noise of someone entering through the corridor window outside the meeting room was rather hard to miss. Seconds later, the door opened – and in stepped Hatake Kakashi.

Hiruzen stared at Kakashi and Kakashi innocently stared back.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“What do you think?” Danzo, seated next to Hiruzen, spat.

Well… it could’ve been worse, thought Hiruzen as he watched the elders and Kakashi trade glares. Thankfully, Itachi-kun had had the foresight to shunshin the hell out before Kakashi poked his nose through the door.

Kakashi, unfortunately, was a lot like a dog in the sense that, if he had a hunch, he wouldn’t let it go until he’d unearthed water bone or mystery had caught his fancy. One way or the other, Hatake Kakashi had ended up catching wind of almost every secret there was to know, whether Hiruzen had intended for it to happen or not. He also had the habit of appearing in Hiruzen’s office through the window every now and then, his ANBU guards notwithstanding, to deliver D-rank mission reports written in haiku. Unfortunately, Hiruzen couldn’t tell Kakashi to stop, because sometimes, those visits happened to actually turn out to be veiled briefings on critical information that Hiruzen would otherwise not have found out. So in the end, he left Kakashi to his own devices, resigned to the man’s spontaneous appearances ever so often.

Today’s particular meeting, however, Hiruzen had not wanted to be interrupted. And with the man’s bad timing, he had (sensibly) feared that Kakashi might see it fit to barge in with Itachi there, thereby unveiling the last secret he wasn’t privy to. As Hiruzen absolutely hadn’t wanted that to happen, he’d arranged for Kakashi to be stuck babysitting two genin teams at once for that morning. He should’ve known that it wouldn’t be enough.

“You’re interrupting a meeting with the council,” he told Kakashi, faux-casually. “Is there something I can help you with, Kakashi?”

“Hmm.”

Kakashi eyed the stiff-looking elders dubiously. And Hiruzen knew that look, damn it. He’d seen it every single time before Kakashi stuck his nose into classified business.

“Kakashi?” he prompted. “Is something the matter?” Best dispel any doubts he had in person, before Kakashi got any ideas and went looking for trouble.

“Uh, permission to speak freely, Hokage-sama?”

“When do you not speak freely?” wondered Hiruzen. “Go on, say whatever it is.”

“I was just thinking,” Kakashi mused, “that it smells an awful lot like a crow in here.”

There was a sudden alarmed silence.

As much as Hiruzen sometimes loved Kakashi’s keen nose, in every sense of the word, some days, like today, he was tempted to curse it to hell and back.

“One of my ROOT agents has taken up a summoning contract with crows,” Danzo supplied helpfully.

“Really?” Kakashi’s tone begged to differ.

“Indeed.”

The worst part of Danzo’s excuse was that it wasn’t even a lie, because, though it hadn’t been common knowledge, Itachi had been a member of Root for a while. It had been Danzo’s way to ensure that he truly was loyal to Konoha and not just his clan. And if there was something Hiruzen knew about Root, it was that there was no coming back from it.

“Ah,” chuckled Kakashi. “But I also happened to notice some suspicious crow activity around my team… was that your… agent, as well?”

Damn the man’s perceptiveness to hell, Hiruzen thought. It was, however, what made him such a great ninja. He also cursed Itachi’s apparent need to stalk his brother via crows. Couldn’t he have contained himself?

“I’m afraid my agent is still figuring out, shall we say, the proper handling of his crow summons,” Danzo parried artfully.

“By spying on my team?”

“Call it surveillance of the kyubi.”

Kakashi was visibly about to retort something biting, probably along the lines of defending the fourth hokage’s sealing work as well as his honor, so Hiruzen decided to interrupt before his subordinates tried to murder each other… again.

“Kakashi, I was wondering what brought you here in the first place?”

“You know,” Kakashi commented. “This and that.” He glanced at the other elders. “I’d hate to interrupt your meeting.”

“Oh, you liar,” cut in Utatane, the female elder in the council. “You mean to tell me that every time you’ve walked in on us wasn’t on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Hiruzen sighed. “Kakashi. If you allow me to take a guess – you are here to talk about the chunin exams, aren’t you?”

Kakashi blinked. “Hm.”

Right. Why did he have to be such a man-child? Kakashi had gotten worse after taking on a team, too. Hiruzen was starting to regret pulling him out of ANBU.

“So, Kakashi,” Hiruzen prompted. “I’ve heard that you have a vested interest in Anko proctoring as opposed to Ibiki, yes?”

“Well… it’s more that I have an interest in keeping Ibiki far away from any unsuspecting children.”

“And you deem Anko an appropriate stand-in?” he asked humorously. Kakashi was wise enough not to answer.

“As it happens, we were just discussing that matter,” Danzo cut in, “and have come to the conclusion that neither Anko nor Ibiki are fit for proctoring in light of the current circumstances.” Inwardly, Hiruzen was arching an eyebrow. They had discussed no such thing. “So we have come to the decission,” Danzo continued glibly, “that you, as our most esteemed jonin, are the perfect candidate for this task, Hatake Kakashi.”

Hiruzen shot him a look of alarm, but Danzo merely gazed back calmly, the absolute bastard. Damn him and his silver tongue.

Hiruzen gritted his jaw, dismayed as Kakashi shot him a deeply alarmed look, as though silently begging him to negate Danzo’s statement.

“Ah, come again?”

Hiruzen’s brain, meanwhile, was working a mile a minute. Danzo’s impromptu idea wasn’t so bad, he thought, as proctoring the second stage of the exams would keep Kakashi busy, hopefully far away from Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Itachi’s business. On the other hand, the very reason why they were having so much trouble choosing the next proctor was because Ibiki had failed too many candidates, to the point of seeming biased and unfair. However, Konoha couldn’t just fully bow to the other nation’s protests either lest they seem weak. It was a very delicate situation. And Kakashi wasn’t exactly known for his delicate teaching methods. He had, after all, only passed a single genin team out of five, and that solely because Hiruzen himself had dropped by in the middle of his insane test (after Kakashi had already failed his prospective team) and demanded, no ordered him, to go back there and pass those kids or else. (Thankfully no one else had found out about his intervention.) So no. Kakashi, despite all his talents, was not the man for the mission. Unfortunately, Danzo had already spoken up in Hiruzen’s name, and if he contradicted him, it would only raise Kakashi’s suspicions about the actual topic of discussion… which had been Itachi.

Hiruzen sighed.

“Kakashi, the council has spoken. You will proctor the second phase of the chunin exams. Whatever test you may think of is fine. Within reason,” he added quickly. “However, there is just one thing.”

Kakashi gulped. “Yes?”

“Every single candidate must have a chance to pass, no matter how many of them there are.”

“Wait,” said Kakashi glumly. “So no one-on-one matches?”

“You’ll have to be a little more creative than that, Hatake,” Danzo sneered.

Hiruzen ignored him. “What I’m saying is: provided every single candidate does well, all of them will pass. I don’t want an exam like Anko’s, designed to cut the applicant’s numbers by half. I want an exam which everyone can pass. One that doesn’t give Konoha applicants any sort of advantage.”

“We want a test which will get our guests to simmer down and cease their trivial complaints,” Danzo said plainly. “It should be easy, don’t you think, Hatake?”

Kakashi, on his part, looked deeply troubled by the task at hand. “Sure.”

His distress was evident, seeing as he fled the room as soon as he could.

 

Moments later, Itachi returned and the previous meeting was resumed.

“You were saying, Hokage-sama?”

Looking into Itachi’s still youthful face, Hiruzen wondered what he had done in another life to be stuck with all these problem children. Just the thought of Itachi gave him guilt-ridden nightmares. Seeing him in person was a lot worse.

“Ah, Itachi-kun, yes. You had just finished giving your report, I believe.”

“Yes,” said Itachi, giving him a curt nod.

Hiruzen was still feeling pangs of guilt whenever he looked into the boy’s face. “I will set you up with my contact as soon as he arrives,” he told Itachi. “Will you be able to wait here until then?”

Itachi nodded. “Yes.”

Hiruzen nodded back. “Then, is there anything else you need?”

Itachi gave him a confused look, clearly thrown off by Hiruzen’s meager attempt at courtesy. Not for the first time, Hiruzen had to wonder what kind of environment the former Uchiha heir had grown up in.

“Actually, Hokage-sama…” ventured Itachi.

Hiruzen perked up. “Yes?” It was the first time he’d spoken up about anything.

“I was wondering… has there been an update in our coded languages?”

That… was not what he had been expecting.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

 

 

 

Meanwhile, in another part of the village, Anko Mitarashi had just been told by a messenger that she would not be the proctor of the second exam after all. She’d been understandably mad and run off in a huff. Currently, she was jogging through the forbidden forest in order to deactivate the electricity, hot water and other similar necessities which she’d instated in preparation of the exam within the tower in training ground 44. She had just crossed about half of the Forest of Death, when a sudden kunai sailing toward her had Anko stopping in her tracks.

She glanced around warily.

“Who’s there?” she barked.

Only the sounds of the forest replied, which merely served to unnerve Anko further. She knew that there were no fellow ninja around in a ten kilometer radius. Except, it seemed, an enemy.

“Alright, scumbag,” ventured Anko with bravado. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Now come out, before I make you.”

“My, my,” someone said from behind her. “How impolite. It’s rude to call your beloved teacher a scumbag, you know?”

Anko swiveled around and found herself face to face with her former teacher and current criminal: Orochimaru of the Legendary Sannin. She suppressed a violent shiver.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh? Can’t I pay my favorite student a visit?” said the man as he liked his lips ominously.

“I was your only student,” Anko remarked coldly. “But that died as soon as you left the village, you filthy traitor.”

“Tut, tut. I fear I may have to teach you some manners again.”

“Over my dead body!” Anko shouted.

Orochimaru just smiled and hummed. “That can be easily arranged, my dear.” And when Anko next looked down, she had a sword protruding from her chest. “Sweet dreams… I fear you won’t wake up.”

Slowly and yet all at once, the pain began to register until it became unbearable. With a wet gasp, Anko fell to her knees. “W-why?” she chocked; her last words.

“Oh? It’s nothing personal, honey. I just needed to borrow your face for a while.”

And then he slit her throat.

 

 

 

When Itachi exited the Hokage’s makeshift meeting room a few minutes later, he was in a strange mood. Seeing all those familiar faces again – especially Danzo – had made his gut churn. They brought back memories of his time in Root, most notably, his last mission. Needless to say, none of them were pleasant recollections. Even Kakashi-senpai’s appearance had put him off. Seeing his old captain and teammate again had Itachi feeling all kinds of nostalgic. It had been a while since he’d felt so intensely about anything, and the prospect that he’d only ever meet Kakashi again in battle, as an enemy, wasn’t helping at all.

So it wasn’t very surprising to him when a sudden craving for dango possessed him and he just had to go and get it. Shisui had once explained that people liked to eat unhealthy things to feel better, and Itachi thought that he fit that description to a T. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to eat so much ‘comfort food’, but there was no one around to tell him not to. So he went to Shiemi-san’s shop and procured himself an unhealthy amount of dango.

“I knew I’d find you here!” came a cheerful voice… Sakura’s voice. Itachi nodded at her, then remembered she usually expected verbal replies from him.

“Good afternoon, Sakura.”

Sakura was looking at him intently. “You look a bit upset, Stalker-san. What’s wrong?”

Itachi blinked. The girl’s perceptiveness continued to amaze him. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh. So is that why you are drowning your sorrows in dango?”

“I’m not,” he said plainly, even though he totally was.

“Well you’re going the wrong way about it,” Sakura explained, once again disregarding his statement.

“Ah. Then what would you suggest?”

“Friends, first and foremost,” said Sakura primly. “I went a while without having any friends and no amount of mochi could cheer me up.” She seemed to think deeply. “What you need right now is to start crying.”

“Pardon?”

Sakura nodded at him sagely. “Yes, yes. Kaka-sensei says that crying is like popping a balloon and that it’s good for you.”

Itachi couldn’t help but stare. “…come again?” He had heard Kakashi say many things, but that sounded too strange even for him.

“It’s a long story,” Sakura dismissed. “But if you feel embarrassed about crying, then I know another thing that’s going to cheer you up for sure!”

“Which is?”

“Petting Tora!”

She snatched his arm and began to drag him toward her house, all the while narrating the progress she’d made with the elusive Tora. Itachi was only letting himself be dragged about by a twelve-year-old because he appreciated cats, he told himself. The fact that he was smiling at Sakura’s narration had nothing to do with it.

Upon making it to her residence, Sakura and Itachi snuck in through the window, once again thanks to his proficiency with hair pins, and proceeded to look around for Tora. As Sakura had explained, the cat was a ninja in all but name, truly, with Houdini skills that could put any genin to shame. It was amazing how such a fat, orange fuzzball, could lead trained ninja around by the nose. Sadly, Sakura had explained, Tora’s stint as madam Shinji’s pet seemed to have made her lose faith in humanity, despite Sakura’s best efforts. Meaning: the cat tended to flee whenever she saw anyone. This was good in terms of hiding her from Sakura’s parents, but annoying on the whole, because Sakura wanted to pet it (and so did Itachi).

 

He had to admit, he was amused by how clueless her parents were. They didn’t even notice their daughter and a complete stranger sneak around the house in search of a foreign cat, and subsequently chase said cat on top of the kitchen rafters (in Sakura’s case) while her mother was sweeping the floor. However, not even Tora was a match for Itachi’s keen senses, and soon enough, he’d cornered the fugitive in the bathroom, where Sakura’s father was showering. He’d almost thought he’d been caught when Tora began to mewl loudly, but Haruno senior’s singing was even louder, and Itachi had walked out with no one the wiser. And so, he and Sakura had promptly made it back to her room.

And as it turned out, Sakura had been right. Petting the feline, Itachi found, was soothing… almost therapeutic. And talking to Sakura, strangely, was cheering him up too. When they’d finished discussing Tora, the conversation moved on to their progress with the air-step and Sakura’s complaints that she couldn’t hold her breath for long while under water, to which Itachi had suggested that channeling chakra to her lungs could, to an extent, infuse more energy into her cells in her lungs, which should allow her to hold her breath for longer. Then Sakura had tried to follow his advice and discovered that the practice required a lot of concentration and was very complex… not unlike sensing, which brought them to their next topic. And that particular subject somehow ended with Sakura telling Itachi about her failure at the chunin exams and how her ‘crush’ – love interest, he had to remind himself – was mad at her.

And Itachi, while socially clueless and aware of it, had still caught on to the fact that Sakura held a torch for her brother and was clearly talking about him. So, he figured, he might as well return the favor and do some matchmaking of his own.

He coughed. “I think you should give your teammate tomatoes.”

Sakura gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“Yes,” He assured, recalling that they were his brother’s favorite food.

“Why on earth would I do that?

Itachi hesitated. “You could give them to him as a present.”

“What?” Sakura exclaimed. “He can buy tomatoes himself! What the hell, Stalker-san?”

“But I heard a rumor that he likes tomatoes,” argued Itachi weakly, wanting to do good by his brother.

Sakura looked at him suspiciously. “There are loads of rumors about Sasuke-kun, you know.”

“Yes, but I really do think he would appreciate some tomatoes.”

Sakura waved him off dismissively. “Stalker-san, you don’t know the first thing about Sasuke-kun. I’m not going to give him tomatoes.” She paused. “But getting him a present is a good idea! When I snuck into the teacher’s lounge back at the Academy, I found out that his birthday is on the twenty-third July! That’s pretty soon!”

“Hmm,” said Itachi. He was annoyed that Sakura would dismiss his tomatoes so easily.

 

Just in that moment, footsteps sounded coming up the stairs, followed by a feminine voice.

“Sakura! dinner is ready!”

“I’m coming,” Sakura shouted back. “Ne, Stalker-san, do you wanna join us?” Without waiting for Itachi’s answer, she yelled. “Mooom! I have a friend over! Can he join us for dinner?”

Itachi began shaking his head, but Sakura’s mom was already answering. “Of course, sweetie! It’s been so long since you had anyone over!” To make matters worse, the woman sounded genuinely happy. Itachi hated letting people down, but…

“Come on, Stalker-san. Why not have dinner with us?” Sakura was asking him.

“But I’m not your friend,” Itachi argued.

At this, she gave him a hurt look and then proceeded to stare at the floor. Itachi immediately felt terrible.

“I’m sorry, I meant no offense.”

“I know,” said Sakura, a bit quietly. “Don’t worry. You haven’t done anything.”

They stood there awkwardly.

“Sakura-chan!” Her mother’s shout broke through the tension. “Is your friend eating with us or not?”

Itachi and Sakura looked at each other, then they both spoke at the same time:

“It’s okay, you don’t have to–”

“Very well, I will join you–”

They both stopped and stared at one another.

“Uh,” said Sakura finally. “D’you mean it? I don’t wanna force you or anything.” Yet her green eyes looked so hopeful that Itachi couldn’t very well say no. Besides, what was holding him back, truly? He had nowhere else to be.

“It’s quite alright,” he told her. “I will join you for dinner.”

“Sweet, then let’s go!”

Upon leaving Sakura’s room, they were greeted by a staircase (she lived in a duplex), which lead to a living room, where a western-style table was already set.

Sakura’s parents were both indeed civilians. Itachi could tell immediately just by looking at them, not that he hadn’t already experienced their unawareness first hand. The father (“call me Hizashi”) was of strong build and with dark purple hair. Clearly it was his genes which Sakura had inherited, hair-wise. His voice was quiet, surprisingly, and his wit quick. On the other hand, Sakura’s mother, (“Just Mebuki will be fine”) was at first glance her husband’s polar opposite. Thin and coltish, her coloring fair rather than tanned, her hair a pale blond mass which had been tamed into submission with a copious amount of pins and… was that a needle? Itachi remembered belatedly that she was a seamstress. Most strikingly about the woman, however, was the way she held herself, with strict manners and poise, her voice loud and clear yet cultured and serious. She was the absolute opposite of her husband in every which way, though Sakura, was a blend of them both.

Just as Itachi was appraising them, they seemed to be appraising him.

“I didn’t know your friend was so old, Sakura-chan,” came Mebuki’s slightly disapproving tone.

“This is…” Sakura stepped in. “This is, uh, my teammate’s older brother, haha.” Itachi froze. He couldn’t help but glance at Sakura, fighting to conceal his shock. “His name is, uh, err… Uchiha…”

She was shooting him a panicked look, and Itachi decided it was high time he took over.

How could the situation have spiraled into madness so quickly? Sakura must be making this up, he prayed. She couldn’t know that he really was Sasuke’s older brother, could she? Itachi thought frantically about what to do. His current alias was Tetsuya Akashi, so he’d have to work with that.

“Uchiha Tetsuya,” he completed smoothly. “My little brother is her teammate, and Sakura had asked me for help in getting him a birthday present.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” said Kizashi approvingly. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Our Sakura’s always been one to put much thought into presents and the like.”

Even Mebuki seemed to have taken his ‘lie’ at face value. “So, Sakura-chan, Uchiha-san. Have you any ideas for the present yet?”

“Um, no, actually,” said Sakura, pausing to chew on her rice. “St – Tetsuya-san was suggesting food, but I figure it’s not special enough.”

Mebuki giggled. “Food? Typical brother present. Didn’t your brother buy you four crates of red bean mochi for your thirtieth, anata?”

Itachi perked up. Apparently Sakura and her father shared their obsession with mochi.

“Kind of,” chuckled Hizashi, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, those were the days. Sakura-chan secretly ate most of them though.”

Sakura blushed. “I did not!”

“Sakura!” Mebuki exclaimed. “Is this true?”

Kizashi smiled. “Simmer down, honey. That was years ago.”

There was a lull in the conversation as each ate their share of dinner. Itachi, personally, thought that it tasted like dry sandpaper. His mother’s cooking had been clearly superior. However, the very manners said mother had instilled into him had him reassuring the Harunos of the opposite:

“This is delicious, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Mebuki accepted graciously.

Another silence.

“I understand you’re a seamstress?” Itachi prompted awkwardly. He really wasn’t used to making conversation. However, his upbringing as clan heir wouldn’t allow him to sit quietly in the silence, as much as he longed to.

“Oh, yes. Did Sakura tell you?”

“Yeah,” Sakura said. “Did you know, Stal – erm, Tetsuya, that my mom makes all our clothes? She even gave me a set of these red quipao dresses” she gestured toward her dress, “as a present for graduating from the Academy!”

Sakura sounded very proud of this fact. Meanwhile, all Itachi could think was that her red dress looked extremely impractical for shinobi work. The white circles imprinted on her back and sides reminded him of practice targets, like a beacon for enemy shinobi to aim their shuriken at. It seemed a rather ironical present for a graduating kunoichi.

“Truly?” he said instead. “I admit they are very… inspired.” His complimenting skills clearly needed some work, but Mebuki didn’t seem to mind as she began to explain about the Haruno business, and how she made clothes while Kizashi took care of sales and trading, and how they hoped that, in the future, Sakura might take over.

Sakura had opened her mouth, her eyes suddenly large. Did she not know of her parent’s plans for her? Or perhaps she knew, but disagreed? In any case, why had she even gone to the Academy if they meant for her to become a merchant?

He tuned back fully into the conversation once Mebuki stopped talking and her husband took over.

“You know, Sakura-chan, maybe you could get your teammate some clothes? Isn’t he the one who wears all those, what’s it called, all those hand fan things embroidered on his clothing?”

“Uchiwa fans,” Itachi cut in, unable to help himself. “They are the symbol of the Uchiha clan, which was inspired by the gunbai, or gunbai uchiwa, the clan founder’s weapon of choice – a symbol which has been passed down between Uchiha clansmen for generations”

“Err, right,” said Kizashi. “Of course, my bad. Anyway, don’t you think your teammate – that Sasuke boy, yeah? – would be happy to get some of those personalized clothes?”

“Uhh, maybe?” Sakura repeated, sounding dubious. “But my sewing skills are nowhere near close to mom’s.”

“And it’s high time you improved your technique, young lady,” Mebuki cut in in a tone that Itachi’s father had reserved for saying that it was high time he mastered the sharingan.

“The Uchiha clan’s seamstresses are… no longer available,” Itachi ventured into the sudden silence. “Sewing Sasuke some personalized clothes would make him very happy, as they are no longer easily available.”

“Huh?” Sakura blinked at him, a slow smile forming on her lips. “You’re right, Stal – Tetsuya! That’s exactly the kind of thoughtful present I was looking for. I think I’ll try to sew him something.”

 

Half an hour later found Itachi, Sakura and Mebuki gathered in the living room, with Mebuki lecturing them about proper sewing technique and how to hold their needles. Itachi honestly had no idea how he’d ended up in this predicament. He had never imagined he’d be tasked with sewing, of all things. However, the fact that both Mebuki and Sakura were much more skilled at it than him was disconcerting. Itachi was used to being the best. Or perhaps it was more correct to say that he was used to working obsessively on a skill until he had mastered it. So, as with all things, he set about learning how to sew. Perhaps he could even sew his own uchiwa fan as a keepsake.

After a while of supervising their progress, Mebuki had excused herself, leaving Itachi and Sakura to it. Once he was sure she was gone, Itachi asked:

“Sakura. Why did you say that I’m Sasuke’s brother?”

Sakura stopped sewing and looked at him. “Well, I couldn’t very well tell my parents that we’re friends because you’re my sensei’s number one fanboy and I caught you stalking him, and then you freaked out and destroyed my alarm clock, so we ended up bonding over you buying me a new alarm clock as I treated you to mochi… now could I?”

Itachi just blinked at her. “I don’t see why not.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I can’t see you smirking, Stalker-san.” She giggled. “Stalker-san, Stalker-san, Stalker-san.” She seemed to find Itachi’s real designation hilarious.

Itachi, however, was set on the Sasuke topic. “But why his brother?”

“Well, I don’t think they’d have believed me if I had said you were Naruto’s, don’t you agree? What with him being blonde, with blue eyes and tanned,” lectured Sakura. “You and Sasuke, on the other hand, resemble each other a lot more. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you two could pass as brothers no problem.”

Itachi could have facepalmed. What was he doing? It had not been his intention to make Sakura notice their similarities.

“But everyone knows that Sasuke lives alone,” he said quickly, trying to reaffirm the belief that he couldn’t be Sasuke’s brother.

“Every ninja, maybe,” replied Sakura, shrugging. “My parents are clueless.” Then, she happened to look over at what Itachi had been sewing, or rather, trying to, and promptly burst out laughing. Itachi sighed. He had to admit that his creation looked a lot like a tangled algae that had washed up out of a murky pond. Meanwhile, Sakura’s project, while not perfect, actually was starting to resemble a normal piece of fabric. Itachi narrowed his eyes at his algae, as though it had personally offended him, He’d master this technique, he promised himself. Even if sewing as a skill was rather useless for ninja work. However, Itachi was not about to quit now. He was sure that if he used his sharingan, he could expedite the learning process…

 

 

That day marked the start of a new routine. Itachi, who had no one else to talk to, but was still supposed to stay put in Konoha until he could meet the hokage’s contact, took to spending his mornings looking at what Sasuke and Sakura’s team was up to, much as he’d been doing until then, but his afternoons were often spent with Sakura.

It was rather peaceful, in a sense. His brother and his merry band of teammates seemed happy in their little world, and Itachi was happy for them. He enjoyed being able to observe his little brother like this. Truly, he was glad to have gotten the chance to once again. He had assumed his last time seeing his brother would be as Sasuke killed him.

Meanwhile, Itachi’s favorite summon, Karasu, had also taken a liking to team seven, or rather, to scaring Naruto every chance he got. Which was at least three times a day. And that was another thing: Karasu was now rebelling against his name, stating that ‘Karasu’ was a poor, unoriginal choice and that he much preferred being called ‘Shi-chan, the Harbinger of Death’. This annoyed Itachi to no end, because he had been the one to think of the crow’s previous name, which was a perfectly fine one at that, and he did not appreciate the sudden change. Especially for something that sounded so unprofessional. Would Kisame ever take him seriously again if he heard Itachi calling his summon ‘Shi-chan’?” Itachi doubted it.

Then again, he pondered, Kakashi had given his own dogs names of a similar nature and was still feared across the seven nations. He sighed. Kakashi calling one of his summons ‘Shi-chan’ wouldn’t have surprised him in the least, in fact. Sakura truly shared his… well, appreciation for cuteness, he supposed. Fortunately, she did not try to dress Shi-chan up in little crow outfits the way Kakashi did with his summons. Thank god for small mercies.

So yes, Itachi’s mornings consisted of observing his little brother and company, strolling through the village, and enjoying some piece and quiet. His evenings, on the other hand, were spent with Sakura. Initially, he had been somewhat averse to the idea, but he’d found that trying to figure out air-walking was fun, in a careless kind of way that he hadn’t experienced for a long time. Sometimes, Sakura would chatter to him about her mornings with her team (mostly about things Itachi knew already), but it still amused him to hear Sakura’s take on the situation, which often differed greatly from Itachi’s own.

Occasionally, Sakura would bring her newest sewing project with her in order to show Itachi her progress with Sasuke’s present. As she wasn’t as of yet particularly skilled at sewing, Sakura had settled for making Sasuke a kerchief, which could be used as a scarf, she’d explained, or maybe to wrap something within. She was making good progress with the kerchief – a pleasant to the touch, dark blue material with the uchiwa fan embroidered into it in a teal color. The edges were perhaps somewhat rumpled, and it was apparent that it hadn’t been sewn by a professional, but Itachi figured that if it was him getting such a thoughtful present, he’d be very much happy. And he had said as much to her. Sakura had seemed to genuinely appreciate his encouragement, but added that she truly hoped Sasuke-kun would feel the same way, because he was a little difficult to get through to at times. Itachi hoped so too.

Sometimes, they’d go to Sakura’s house after training so that Itachi could visit Tora. He very much appreciated the visits, as he loved petting her, and he also found Sakura’s attempts to get the human-hating cat to like her endearing. To Sakura’s unending mortification, Tora had warmed up to Itachi much faster than to her, which only served to amuse Itachi further. Another thing he liked (though it had taken some getting used to), was Sakura’s parents calling him ‘Uchiha-san’. The first few times, it had freaked him out, but after accepting that it just was, Itachi had begun to appreciate the chance of getting called by his true name… without anyone hating him for it.

He also liked visiting Sakura’s house because he got to glimpse her mother sewing, a skill which he was still determined to master. Whenever Sakura was out of sight, Itachi would activate his sharingan (with a minor jutsu layered over it to make his eyes seem normal) and avidly watch Mebuki’s sewing technique in hopes of replicating it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t often that Sakura left him alone with the woman, and Itachi was too wary of Sakura’s surprising perceptiveness for genjutsu to try anything when she was around.

 

He had also taken the time to visit the hospital (disguised with a powerful genjutsu, of course) to finally get his recurring chest pains and breathing problems diagnosed. As Itachi had stopped doing as much exercise since arriving in Konoha, the symptoms had abated in the past two weeks, which wasn’t helping to pinpoint the issue. The civilian doctor giving him the checkup had simply looked Itachi over, stated that he was perfectly healthy, and sent him on his merry way. Unbothered by the man’s rudeness in the least, Itachi had merely snuck into a specialized medic nin’s consultation room, waited until the doctor was done mending some genin’s torn Achilles tendon (his skills appeared promising) and made himself known.

The medic had been suitably startled, yes, but it was nothing a quick genjutsu couldn’t fix. Soon enough, he’d come around and happily agreed to give Itachi a checkup. So, once again, Itachi had explained about his breathing problems, shortness of breath, and even occasional pain in his chest, and so, the medic’s first order of business had been to introduce his medical chakra into Itachi’s lungs. And so, Itachi had been forced to wait for the impending diagnosis. And wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, when about ten minutes had passed and the man’s chakra was still prodding around without doing anything, Itachi prompted: “Is something the matter?”

The man stopped channeling chakra and walked around the examination table to face Itachi again. “I’m afraid so, Akashi-san.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Itachi had wanted to know.

He had been diagnosed with a minor respiratory disease back during his contract with ANBU, but the treatment he’d undergone at the time should’ve been enough to cure him. He’d thought he was cured. Everyone had. His medic had even said at the time that the disease had been completely eradicated. And yet, years later, not long after he’d ‘deflected’ from Konoha, Itachi’s condition had suddenly reappeared again, but much worse.

“I don’t… I don’t know, Akashi-san,” said the medic. The man couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Is it an unknown pathogen?” Itachi asked, his stomach sinking.

“No, I mean, I… I don’t even…” the man looked utterly broken.

“Could you please describe what you have observed?” Itachi pressed. “I may attempt to seek treatment elsewhere, and it would help if I could describe the nature of my condition.”

“Well,” said the doctor, calming a little and sitting down in front of Itachi. “There’s definitely something there. In your lungs. Growing.”

Itachi suppressed a shiver. “Something is growing in my lungs?” he couldn’t help but repeat, alarmed.

“Yes. It reminded me almost of a plant, but of course, that’s impossible.” The medic chuckled uneasily. “Do you remember ingesting anything that could’ve had a parasite within?”

Itachi shook his head. During his time at Akatsuki, he’d almost always eaten the exact same thing as his partner, Kisame. And Kisame, he was quite certain, was not ill.

“Will the use of jutsu performed through the respiratory track impact this… parasite at all?” Itachi asked uneasily, trying to stay rational.

The medic hummed thoughtfully. “What chakra natures do you have, Akashi-san?”

“Fire and water.”

The man’s eyes widened. “You are capable of both?”

Itachi nodded. “I am acceptable.”

The medic was looking at him with different eyes now, appearing very impressed. Fire and water were opposite natures, Itachi knew, so it was a strange – very strange – combination to have in one’s arsenal. He always got the same reaction when he shared the fact with others. Ninja which were proficient in two elemental chakra natures were rare, never mind when one nature was the radical opposite of the other. In fact, this was one of the reasons why Kakashi, who had mastered both lightning and earth, two opposites, was so famous.

 

“Well,” said the man thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely sure how the use of fire and water jutsu could impact this… parasite, if at all. The scorching heat of fire jutsu might debilitate it… but perhaps not. Water nature, on the other hand, I’d try to avoid, if possible. For all we know, you could be providing it sustenance.”

Itachi nodded his understanding, but was upset. Generally, he preferred to use his water nature during combat. The thought that he was watering any surrounding trees and plant-life as he fought always was a pleasant one. With his katon jutsu, he was usually worried about causing a wildfire. However, he understood the logic behind the medic’s demand.

“I shall do my best,” he promised.

The medic nodded. “Very well then. I will discuss your case with my colleagues, see if they have more luck diagnosing you, Akashi-san. Hopefully we’ll be able to extract the pathogen through surgery. Please schedule another appointment with the secretary outside.”

Itachi, realizing that the nurse would likely notice that he hadn’t had an appointment in the first place, was forced to once again use his ninja skills to sneak around and trick the unsuspecting nurse into giving him an appointment. When he was finally done and had left the hospital, the morning’s events caught up with him:

He was ill.

Perhaps terminally so, if the pain he’d been coping with was anything to go by. Until that moment, Itachi had thought that it was his previous illness reappearing again, and had simply acquired his medication from back then and hoped for the best, resolving to visit the Konoha hospital once he returned to the village. But now here he was, and not even the medics of Konoha – famed as the best in all the nations – seemed to know what precisely was wrong with him. He tried to tell himself that it was only the one medic who hadn’t know his condition; surely his colleagues would have an inclining at least. But he just couldn’t get the man’s troubled eyes out of his mind.

Notes:

Attention!!!
I've created a tumblr blog to post things related to my fic. I'll be answering any questions/comments you may have over there, as well as posting my art about the story (or not) deleted scenes, etc.

The link's thinknicht. As in, "don't think" (mixing german and english here) cuz apparently I'm an airhead, lol.
Pretty please give this airhead a follow and ask some questions, no matter how ridiculous or serious they are. From funny to existential, whatever comes up, you can ask away. Wanna know what a certain character was thinking in a scene? Just ask. Any question at all, seriously. Sometimes they even get me thinking and change my own perspective. Non-story related questions are fair game too, I'd love to meet you guys.

!!!ALSO: I have a poll going for Itachi's alias, so hit it up if you'd like to participate (no account required). You can access through my tumblr page or this link:
https://www.opinionstage.com/thinknicht/best-undercover-alias-for-itachi

 
So... rant's over. A little thank you heads-up to those who've read till here: next chapter is a glorious 12k words filled with Itachi... just saying ;)

Chapter 6: The Pageant

Summary:

Itachi gets roped into Sakura's shenanigans... yet again.

Notes:

Hi everyone ;)
I just wanted to quickly say: interacting with all of you in the comments is so much fun. Like, I love it. And thanks to tumblr, I'm meeting a lot of you over there as well... There's so few people you can actually talk with about plot points and stuff that getting this chance is truly IT for me. So... thank you for that :)
And now? On with Itachi!

As Itachi was a creature of habit, he knew that breaking his current routine in face of the… news would not do him any favors. It was strange. He didn’t feel particularly different. Almost as though what his illness might entail hadn’t quite sunk in. The only thought that kept repeating over and over in his mind was that he shouldn’t have been so careless; he should have visited a doctor sooner. For as long as he could remember, Itachi had always been punctual to everything, but now that his life might be on the line, he was five years too late. He banished those thoughts from his mind, telling himself that he would continue with his routine. Straightening his spine, Itachi began to walk toward the lake where he and Sakura usually practiced the air-step in the evenings. He had every intention to go on about his day as usual.

 

Sakura, ever the diligent student, was already there when he arrived.

“Stalker-san!” she greeted excitedly. “Did you know that I can hold my breath under water for three entire minutes now?” She seemed utterly delighted. “And it’s thanks to that trick you taught me, remember? Channeling chakra into the lungs?”

Itachi sucked in a breath. He had completely forgotten about that. More importantly, he wasn’t sure whether the practice would affect his own illness, so, until he knew more, he probably shouldn’t channel chakra into his own lungs just to be safe. Which meant that Itachi’s attempts at mastering the air-step would be futile from now on.

“Stalker-san? What is it?” Sakura was saying.

But Itachi wasn’t listening. He let himself flop down into the water, sitting upon the surface, uncaring whether he was drenching his clothes.

“Stalker-san?”

It had begun to dawn at him what an utter disaster his condition was. What did this even mean for his career? Would he just shrivel up and die before his little brother could get his revenge, before the name of the Uchiha could be redeemed through Itachi’s death?

“Stalker-san, your hands are shaking.”

Curious. He didn’t feel anything.

Itachi looked up and found Sakura crouching next to him on the water. She was examining his face intently, her green eyes large and concerned. Normally, Itachi would’ve tried to get it together, but right now, he didn’t even care if he worried her. He was too agitated about Sasuke possibly not getting his revenge.

“Do you… do you wanna talk about it?” Sakura ventured after a moment. When Itachi shook his head, she didn’t seem all that surprised, but still disappointed. “I get that I’m like, thirteen, and you’re older than me. But you can talk to me, you know.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” said Itachi simply.

Sakura pursed her lips but didn’t argue.

They were silent for a few minutes.

“I think we should get some dango,” Sakura finally decided.

“To drown my sorrows in?” asked Itachi. The question sounded hollow to his own ears.

“No, silly. To sweeten up that bitter edge in your voice,” Sakura told him. “Let’s go.”

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting on a bench at the civilian district, dango in hand, as they watched people come and go around them.

“Be thankful that I decided to be nice and ask Shiemi-oba-san to give us dango,” Sakura told him.

“As opposed to mochi?” Itachi asked without much inflection.

“Yes,” she said insistently. “Mochi are much better than dango in every way.”

Itachi tuned back into the conversation, but only a little. “Dango are the superior sweet,” he countered, still somewhat listless.

“Oh, and how’s that, Stalker-san? Mochi taste much better!”

“Taste is a subjective concept and useless to argue about,” said Itachi blandly.

“Yeah, but mochi are also more fashionable!”

“And how is that any concern of mine?”

With his dashing good looks, it sadly wasn’t. Sakura was staring to turn red. “Because dango is a safety hazard!”

Itachi frowned at her. “I politely disagree.”

“It’s true! And you should be the most concerned party of all, Stalker-san!”

Itachi glared at her. “And why is that?”

“Well, first, because you are paranoid as hell,” said Sakura smartly. “What if you were in the middle of eating some dango and an enemy ninja used the stick they come in to gouge your eye out?”

Itachi chocked. “That would never happen.”

“Ah, but the possibilities are endless with such a pointy stick,” Sakura sung, pinching him in the arm with her own dango stick for good measure. “Mochi, on the other hand, are just round, squishy and delicious, without being pointy and dangerous.”

“Yes, but each dango stick contains three separate treats,” Itachi argued, displeased with Sakura’s bashing of his precious dango.

“But they’re smaller than a mochi,” Sakura countered. “Not to mention, the separate colors are so poorly combined. Cream, green and pink? Please.”

Itachi smirked. “Oh, but aren’t those your exact tones, Sakura?”

Sakura sputtered. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” elaborated Itachi. “Your eyes are green, like this.” He pointed to the upper piece of dango in the stick. “Your skin is a pale cream, like that one – and your hair is this exact same shade of pink,” he finished as he gestured to the last piece of dango.

Sakura was gaping. “Bu-but I’m wearing red, too…” Her weak comeback told Itachi all he needed to know.

“You best not insult dango ever again, Sakura, lest you inadvertently insult yourself,” he delivered the final blow, utterly satisfied with her demise.

Sakura pouted at him.

“Well, if my coloring is bad, then yours is much worse,” she claimed hotly, then gave Itachi a critical once-over. “First, you wear that awful red and black cloak with clouds of all things as a pattern–” she seethed.

“What’s wrong with this cloak?”

“You know, Stalker-san, my mom is a seamstress,” emphasized Sakura. “And I can tell you right now that that cloak is not cut out for ninja work – or even everyday wear, for that matter. It looks bulky and heavy, the long sleeves are bound to get caught in everything, not to mention that I doubt you can eat soup in that without drenching it.”

Itachi gave her an annoyed look. “And you tell me that? After the impractical clothes you yourself wear?”

Sakura flushed. “They’re not impractical! My main mission is to get Sasuke-kun to fall for me, and I can’t do that while looking like a cave-woman!”

Itachi gave her an unimpressed look. “I’m sure Sasuke would appreciate competence more.”

“Excuse you?!” Sakura exclaimed. “Who says I can’t be competent AND pretty?”

“No one,” Itachi backtracked quickly.

“Why, exactly! And besides, this dress was a present from my mom! You know that! Of all people, you should be able to respect my choice of wear!”

He did know, but he hadn’t realized it meant so much to Sakura. Itachi himself had never given much thought to the outfits his own mother had sewed for him. In fact, he had often resented her for forcing him to wear the Uchiha crest at all times, thereby singling him out automatically from many of his non-Uchiha peers. However, hearing Sakura now, as she defended her mother’s present, he wished he had kept some of his old shirts from back then… even if they probably wouldn’t fit him anymore. In any case, it was a pointless endeavor, as he was rather sure that Sasuke was using them. He couldn’t imagine how else his little brother would’ve gotten clothes with the Uchiha clan logo on them.

“I respect your mother’s skills,” Itachi agreed in the end.

“Good,” said Sakura. “But we were talking about your sense of fashion here. Or lack thereof, anyway.” Itachi blinked at her. It seemed that Sakura was on a roll. “Where was I? Oh, right. That awful cloak of yours. Red and black, remember that.”

Itachi frowned. “Alright…?”

“Now open your cloak.”

Itachi did so, and Sakura frowned. “See that?” she exclaimed indignantly. “Blue! You’re wearing blue – almost purplish, really – underneath a red and black cloak!”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and’? Can’t you tell it’s a horrible combination?” Sakura scowled. “And don’t even get me started on your boots. White, are you serious? And what’s with that chunky design, anyway?”

Itachi was lost. He was just wearing the mandatory Akatsuki outfit. How should he have known that his leader had apparently a terrible fashion sense?

Sakura, meanwhile, was still examining his feet. “Last but not least, Stalker-san, while I appreciate a good manicure… what on earth possessed you to paint your finger and toenails purple?”

Itachi blinked. It was a who, not a what, actually, and his name was Pain. And no, Itachi had no idea why Pain was forcing everyone on the Akatsuki to paint their nails. He wasn’t even sure if it was an actual rule or an unspoken consensus. He’d simply seen that every member had them painted, and, striving to blend in, had run to the closest grocery store and purchased some dark-coloured nail paint as well.

According to Sakura, it was aubergine purple and a blow to anyone with a functioning pair of eyes. Itachi chose to withhold the fact that his eyes were some of the most coveted ones across the entire ninja nations and simply nodded along.

“Truly, Stalker-san,” Sakura was saying. “I don’t know how your mother lets you walk around looking like that. My mom told me the other day that you need to visit a clothes shop urgently, and I agree.”

“My mother has passed away,” Itachi settled on. “Though I do appreciate the concern.”

Sakura stared at him in horror, her face adopting a contrite expression. “Oh.”

Yes. Oh.

She looked at him, clearly sorry. “I was just trying to take your mind off whatever was troubling you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up another painful topic.”

Itachi dismissed her with a gesture. “So this… discussion about fashion was an attempt to distract me from my concerns?”

Sakura nodded. “Kinda. I thought I was succeeding, but then I ended up putting my foot in my mouth.”

Itachi had to agree. “It was still a good try,” he conceded. “Though your choice of topic was a little… unexpected.”

“Fashion?” asked Sakura. “But why? Clothes shopping always cheers me up. I figured talking about it might… make you feel better.”

“I think what you mean to say is that you were ‘educating me’ about it.”

“Well, maybe.” Sakura looked embarrassed.

“Hm. Well, I’ve never gone clothes shopping before,” Itachi admitted.

“What?” said Sakura. “How’s that possible? You’re… what? Seventeen? Sixteen?”

“Eighteen,” he corrected. “And my mother usually took care of it.”

Sakura frowned. “What was she, your maid?”

Itachi frowned. She had done the cooking, sewing, cleaning and basically everything else around the house. But he’d never really thought about it. It was just what was expected of the Uchiha matriarch. However, he suddenly remembered that she had been a kunoichi before that. Had his mother resented her matriarch duties? He suddenly felt like he’d failed her as a son. And wasn’t that a strange thought? He had more than failed her. He had killed her, after all. And yet, he suddenly wished he had thought to ask her whether she ever felt like a ‘maid’, as Sakura had put it.

“She was a proud woman,” Itachi settled on after a long silence. “She was no one’s maid.”

“Well, seeing as she’s… uhh… no longer here, maybe it was about time you learned how to go clothes shopping anyway, Stalker-san,” Sakura told him sensibly.

Itachi frowned. He was required to wear the Akatsuki-issued gear in Kisame’s presence, but perhaps having a few spare outfits wouldn’t hurt… even though, when he had to conduct infiltration, he usually just cast a genjutsu to disguise himself. Still, being around Sakura had made Itachi realize that there were a lot of things he still didn’t know anything about. Intricate skills like sewing, or color-combining, or any number of other things. Itachi didn’t mind learning new things.

His lip quirked up. “Alright, Sakura. You can take me clothes shopping, if you wish.”

Sakura smiled gleefully. “Don’t worry, Stalker-san. You’re in good hands.”

 

Later, as they were riffling through clothes rack after clothes rack, with Sakura explaining about color combinations, and how too many patterns didn’t look good on one, or how the material was just as important as the design, Itachi thought that yes, clothes shopping was as complicated as she’d previously made it out to be.

Sakura, meanwhile, seemed to be thriving as she directed him around the shops.

“It’s been so long since I’ve done this with a friend,” she told him with a smile. “My bestie and I used to come to this shop whenever we had time.”

Itachi blinked. “If it makes you happy, why would you stop?”

“Well,” Sakura trailed off for a moment, a hint of pain flashing through her eyes. “I don’t have a best friend anymore, so.”

Her words reminded Itachi painfully of his own best friend – and of his death.

“Oh.” He said. “My condolences.”

Sakura stared at him blankly for a moment. “What.”

Itachi repeated his statement.

“She’s not dead, you know?” Sakura deadpanned.

Now it was his turn to be confused. Itachi didn’t understand: “If she’s not dead, then why?”

“Why are we not friends anymore?” asked Sakura. He nodded. “Just this stupid argument we got into.”

“Then why don’t you make up with her?” Itachi asked. He couldn’t imagine not immediately attempting to reconcile with Shisui if he were in her shoes.

“Because… because I just can’t,” Sakura said. “We’re rivals now.”

Itachi frowned at her. “My best friend and I used to be rivals as well and it wasn’t a problem,” he told her, remembering his own and Shisui’s competitiveness.

“Yeah, but you’re a nice guy,” Sakura said, as if that explained everything.

“I beg to differ.”

“It’s true!” she insisted. “Ino and I… well, we’ve been pretty nasty to each other. I’m not sure if we can come back from that.”

Itachi had been called many things, but a nice guy wasn’t one of them, and he was still mulling it over when, suddenly, a high-pitched voice rung out from behind them:

“Oh, if it isn’t Forehead herself. What are you doing here, Sakura?”

A blonde girl, about Sakura’s age but with a distinctly more appalling outfit, was standing by the door of the shop.

Immediately, Itachi observed a change in Sakura’s demeanor: her shoulders straightened, her chin tilted up, and her expression smoothed out. She turned around slowly.

“Shopping, Ino,” said Sakura. “What else?”

Oh? So this was her former best friend?

“You know perfectly well that this is my turf, Forehead,” the blonde rebuked. Next to her, Itachi observed a gaggle of other girls which apparently were following her lead. Itachi also remembered that Ino was the name of the Yamanaka heiress, and immediately felt bad for Sakura. The Yamanaka were known for their ability to hold a grudge.

“Your turf?” Sakura echoed. “I don’t see a sign of ‘pigs only’ anywhere.” She looked around the shop mockingly. The girls around Ino seemed shocked at Sakura’s insult, and so was Itachi. He hadn’t pictured her being so rude to anyone.

“Shut up, Sakura!” Ino rebuked shrilly. “Who’s that, anyway?” She pointed at Itachi.

Itachi, meanwhile, was dismayed to have been roped into the conversation. He wasn’t scared of the girls recognizing him – they were too young – but he did not fancy getting caught in the crossfire of the impending cat fight.

“This is…” Sakura looked at him for a moment. “This is my cousin, Tetsuya.”

“Hmp. Well, let me tell you, Forehead. Your cousin’s fashion sense is even worse than yours. Which is a feat, mind.” Much as Sakura had done before, Ino looked Itachi up and down scathingly. Even though Itachi wasn’t wearing his coat at the moment, he apparently still didn’t pass inspection. “Pff, what is wrong with your family?” Ino continued. “I know they’re civilians, but this? No cousin of mine would ever dress like that. Forehead, I feel sorry for you, truly.”

“Wanna repeat, that, pig?” challenged Sakura angrily.

“Gladly. I’ll even go a step further,” taunted Ino, preparing for a killing blow. “I feel sorry for you. Because your cousin is a fashion victim!”

All the girls around her gasped, as though Ino had just uttered the most horrible curse, and Sakura’s face flushed beet red as she stepped in front of Itachi. “He’s no such thing! In fact, his hair is even better groomed than yours, Ino-pig!”

“Excuse me?” Ino shouted back. They were starting to attract an audience, as the patrons of the shop had all turned to look at the commotion.

“Yeah!” Sakura shouted loudly, dragging Itachi forward. “You see these cheekbones, pig?” Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “They could cut diamonds. Unlike yours.”

Another collective gasp.

“Are you calling my cheeks… chubby!?” Ino shouted.

“Well, if you insist, Ino-pig,” Sakura shot back with a haughty smirk.

“Hmp.”

“Just admit it,” Sakura continued. “You’re jealous because my cousin is cooler than any of your blonde groupies.”

“Ha! As if!” Ino shouted. “I have Touya-kun, remember? And he won last year’s male fashion pageant, Forehead. And he’s going to win tomorrow's pageant as well!”

She strolled up to Itachi, flipping her hair confidently as she did so. “This peasant wouldn’t stand a chance against him.”

Itachi, meanwhile, was starting to grow uncomfortable with all the attention, but no one seemed to be considering his feelings on the matter.

“Excuse me, young lady?” The shop clerk had suddenly walked up to them and was giving Ino a reproachful look. “This young man is not a peasant, and I’m sure he could have a good shot at the pageant as well.” The woman smiled reassuringly at Itachi. “Don’t worry, lass.”

Itachi smiled back, feeling somewhat pained about the whole situation. “Ah, thank you, ma’am,” he said nevertheless.

“You’re welcome, dear. But I do mean it when I say you have a good shot at the crown. That pink-haired girl was right about your cheekbones, you know.”

Itachi’s hand went to his right cheekbone, touching it rather self-consciously.

“I think so too!” a random civilian who had been watching chimed in.

“Me too,” said an other.

“Yes, yes,” opined a stately-looking grandmother. “Son, you have that contest in the bag, don’t worry. Though perhaps a change of outfit would help…”

They all looked at Itachi’s clothes as though personally offended. Itachi, meanwhile, considered the pros and cons of casting a genjutsu to be swallowed by the earth.

 

“You heard them, pig,” Sakura said suddenly, clearly thriving on Itachi’s acquired support network.

“Hmp. Touya-kun will hear about this,” Ino threatened as she turned to leave, her lackeys in tow. “You may have won the battle, Forehead, but you won’t win the war.”

 

Itachi wondered what war they were talking about and hoped it didn’t involve him. Or his cheekbones. Once Ino had left, things calmed down, and the customers slowly returned their attention to shopping.

“So…” said Sakura, turning toward him awkwardly. “That was my rival.”

“The one you told me about?”

Sakura nodded somberly. “The very one.”

“…I can see why you got along,” Itachi offered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

He retreated a few steps. “Well…” Itachi ventured. “You’re both very fashion-conscious.”

“Stalker-san,” chided Sakura. “Most normal people are fashion-conscious.”

Itachi didn’t know what to say to that. So he changed the topic. “Why was she talking about a war? And why did you say my cheekbones could cut diamonds?”

Sakura rolled her eyes at him. “Because you have nice cheekbones. And that was just Ino being dramatic.”

Itachi thought that his cheekbones were just like anyone else’s, but they had already established that he was a ‘fashion victim’, so he wasn’t even going to ask.

“And why was she pitting me against this Touya person?”

Sakura sighed. “Ino’s cousin Touya is pretty famous for being a pretty boy.” Itachi stared blankly. “You know, with dashing good looks. Though he’s a civilian.”

“I didn’t know the Yamanaka had civilian clan members,” Itachi said.

“Ino’s mom married into the clan,” Sakura explained. “And Touya is her sister’s son. And unfortunately, he’s also insanely vein and has been winning male beauty pageants since he reached the minimum participation age. He’s that hot.”

“Ah,” said Itachi, uncomfortable.

“So. Are you gonna beat him or not?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” smirked Sakura. “I bet if we bought you some half-way decent clothes, you could show that asshole who’s boss.”

“I think I’ll pass…” muttered Itachi. He truly didn’t think he could handle it. The beauty industry was terrifying.

To his dismay, by the time they left the shop, it appeared as if half the civilian district knew about the mysterious challenger to Touya’s crown. But not mysterious enough that they wouldn’t recognize him on sight, or maybe that was Sakura walking next to him. Her pink hair did act rather like a flag. Unfortunately, the civilians seemed to thrive on the drama. Worse yet, many of them appeared to know Sakura personally, which gave them an excuse to approach Itachi as well. A lot of them wished him encouragements – and Shiemi, the owner the dango stand, even cornered them to let Itachi know that, should he win, she would give him free dango. Provided, of course, that he agreed to tell everyone where he’d bought the sweets. (Apparently, the pageant held a lot of sway among teenage girls, which were one of the main sources of income for Shiemi’s dango shop, so she hoped to influence them through Itachi.)

And so, after carefully considering her offer, Itachi decided that he could give the pageant a shot. It was a civilian event, so it was extremely unlikely he’d meet anyone who could recognize him there. And if it happened, he could just sharingan them into oblivion. Besides, he trusted Sakura’s fashion skills, and perhaps he could help her rekindle her friendship with Ino by participating. The two girls may be rivals, as Sakura had said, but he had the feeling that it was a fun rivalry. Not to mention, he really wanted the free dango.

Once he’d informed Sakura of this news, she had completely lost it and began to furiously plan how to get him ‘up to Toya’s level’ in a day. Needless to say, they spent the rest of the afternoon running from shop to shop, with Sakura comparing price tags like a hawk. As it turned out, the clerks had already been updated on Itachi’s status as The Challenger, and were all eager to sell him the clothes that would pave his way to the throne. Sakura, on her part, was milking the situation for all it was worth, haggling with every clerk and shop-boy there was in order to get special discounts, then running to the next shop to see if she could use its prices to bring the previous price down even more.

Meanwhile, Itachi was in awe of her bargaining skills. As a known clan heir, it would’ve been in bad taste for him to ever try to bargain or tip sparsely in the past, so watching Sakura’s verbal spars with the various clerks had been like entering a new world. Despite his previous reservations, he was amusing himself immensely. When he had relayed his newfound interest in bargaining to her, Sakura had grinned, said that he should try it for himself, and shoved him into a thrift shop.

“This is my absolute favorite place to shop,” she’d confided in a hushed voice. “My parents aren’t as wealthy as Ino’s, you know, so my allowance doesn’t really let me shop in the posh boutiques she does. Now I have the extra pay from D-ranks, so I can buy a bit more, but until becoming a genin, I always used to come here.”

Itachi glanced around. The shop didn’t look like much. Correctly interpreting his expression, Sakura spoke up:

“This place might not look it, but there’s always hidden gems around here,” she explained. “You just need to know where to look. But my favorite part,” she said with a smile, “is Yuna.”

“Yuna?” Itachi repeated curiously.

“She’s the batty cat-lady who manages this place,” Sakura whispered. “I love her. And she bargains like a tigress.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” whispered back Itachi with alarm. “I know next to nothing about bargaining.”

“She’ll go easy on you,” said Sakura with a wink. “Who do you think taught me my skills?”

Itachi blinked. “I had assumed it was your parents, since they’re merchants.”

“Nah,” said Sakura. “My father’s taught me some math, the geography for his trade routes and one hell of a lot about accounting. And my mom beat some manners into me and some sewing skills. But bargaining? That was all Yuna.”

“Well, well,” a raspy voice cut in suddenly. “Are you two quite done discussing your strategy yet?”

The speaker was a wizened-looking woman. Old, and with deep, experienced eyes. She was holding a dirty towel in one hand, a wet cat in the other. Apparently, Itachi surmised, she had just given the cat some sort of bath.

“Hello, Yuna!” chirped Sakura. “Did Goliath sneak off to the construction site again?”

The old woman shuffled forward until she was standing right in front of them. Without warning, she thrust the soaked cat into Itachi’s arms and began to inspect him, her face inches from his.

Radio silence.

“Ah, ‘tis a fine specimen you’ve brought me, Sakura,” the woman commented after two minutes of staring, completely disregarding Sakura’s previous question. “Those cheekbones… yes, yes. He has promise.”

Uncomfortable by the scrutiny, Itachi looked away and began to pet the cat.

“I take it you heard about what’s going on then, Yuna?” asked Sakura.

“Naturally.” She gave them a shrewd look. “But I fear you two are behind schedule, should ye truly intend ta dethrone that salacious asshole.”

“Uh, yeah, we do. And we, uh,” Sakura said sheepishly. “We actually haven’t bought anything yet. But I have some ideas. Problem is, I also have a budget.”

“Ha. A budget, she says,” muttered Yuna to herself. Then she retrieved the cat from Itachi’s arms and swept further into the dingy shop. “All you need ta win is right ‘ere, girl. And there ain’t no budget this shop can’t accommodate. Do try ta keep up.”

“Certainly,” said Sakura sweetly, “I do expect a good price if I am to buy here. However, I might as well look elsewhere too, you know. Wouldn’t want to put all my eggs in one basket.” She smiled at Itachi. “But as a matter of fact, the one you’ll be bargaining with today is him, not me.”

And with such pretty words, Sakura had thrown Itachi to the wolves. Or to Yuna, anyway, but after witnessing the woman in action, he wasn’t sure which he’d prefer.

He did, however, work up the courage to bargain for a bandana by the end of their stay at the shop – as Sakura gave him a thumbs-up in the background. He and Yuna had argued back and fourth until the old woman had taken pity on him and agreed to give Itachi the bandana for free, provided they bought that red shirt which would look very good on you indeed, young man. When they finally left the shop, they’d acquired Itachi new shoes, as well as a few extra shirts in different colors, because apparently, he needed some more color in his life.

Then Sakura proceeded to drag him around through the other shops, taking advantage of the time which had passed since their first visit to bring prices down even more, buying pieces for Itachi’s ‘debut’ left and right. He didn’t miss, however, that it was her money they were spending, and that she was very careful with it. Itachi had insisted that he would pay Sakura back, but she had dismissed him, saying that she’d been the one to drag him into the competition in the first place, and that this was between her and Ino.

Itachi himself didn’t have much money either, as everything that had previously belonged to him had gone to Sasuke, and the Akatsuki didn’t pay him for his services except for the necessary to complete his missions. Thankfully, Sakura’s bargaining skills had allowed for their expenses to be relatively tame. Even so, he resolved to pay her back as soon as he had the chance. When they were finally done, Sakura gave him instructions to meet her an hour before the pageant at her house the next day and then they parted ways.

 

After bidding Sakura goodbye, Itachi realized with some surprise that he’d completely forgotten about his illness. And yet, as soon as he was alone, thoughts about it once again began to plague him, to the point where he couldn’t fall asleep that night, no matter how long he tossed and turned in his bed. Finally caving, Itachi ended up anxiously sneaking into his little brother’s flat at four in the mourning. He watched Sasuke sleep for hours, until Sasuke’s ‘alarm clock’ broke through the silence. Apparently he had bought such a contraption as well. When Itachi finally returned to his inn, he felt unsettled. Watching Sasuke sleep had made him realize now more than ever that he was still a child – more of a child than Itachi had been at his age, at any rate. His little brother would need to hurry up if he wanted to avenge Itachi on time, because he didn’t know how long he had left.

The morning dawned, clouds came and went over the sky, and Itachi was still feeling shaken. He didn’t bother with breakfast or lunch, feeling like if he ate anything, it surely wouldn’t stay in his stomach. As the day crawled forward, his mood only worsened, and by the time he and Sakura were supposed to meet, Itachi put off going to her place, considering whether he should even participate in her pageant in the first place. What had even made him think he could win? Itachi didn’t consider his appearance to be anything but ordinary. Even so, remembering all the effort Sakura had put into shopping for him, Itachi finally caved half an hour after she’d told him to be at her house, and dressed in the clothes she’d instructed him to. Ten minutes later, she was scolding him over his tardiness in an irate tone.

“I know you’re Sensei’s fanboy, but that’s a habit you definitely don’t need to emulate, Stalker-san!” She’d sniffed. “There is no such thing as being ‘fashionably late’, there’s just late!” Then Sakura had taken one look at his face and completely lost it. “What on earth happened to you? Didn’t you sleep at all last night?”

Itachi shook his head mutely.

Sakura scowled. “And you had such a nice complexion too. Come, we will have to use makeup.”

“Can’t we just cast a genjutsu?” Itachi asked.

“That would be cheating,” Sakura refuted. “C’mere.” Then she proceeded to force Itachi into a stool and cake his face in powder, all the while explaining exactly what she was doing. When she finally finished, Itachi looked at himself in the mirror and was rather surprised.

“Are you sure you didn’t cast a genjutsu?”

“No,” said Sakura, rolling her eyes. “Just makeup.”

Itachi stared at himself strangely. He looked the same as usual, but… shinier? His skin was practically glowing – moisturized, Sakura had corrected – and she’d concealed his eye bags and the stress-marks that crisscrossed his cheekbones. And apparently she’d done something to accentuate said cheekbones as well.

Needless to say, Itachi was flummoxed. Due to his occupation, he was accustomed to feeling like a tool, but now he felt like someone’s canvas.

Sakura, apparently, had kept talking while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Did you even brush your head today? Honestly, Stalker-san.” Then she handed him a comb and told him to make it quick, after which she instructed him to push up his sleeves in order to display his forearms. Itachi had no idea how on earth any of these things would help, but he followed her orders nonetheless.

And with these finishing touches, they left through the window and en route pageant. Apparently, it would be celebrated on the outside, in a park which had a makeshift runway installed at the very middle.

There were already tons of expectant civilian’s gathered around the walkway when they arrived. A good portion happened to be giggling teenage girls, but Itachi also caught many snippets of conversing adults, who had apparently come to ‘watch that Touya asshole’s demise’. But Sakura dragged him past them all, until they were behind a linen wall and registering him as a participant.

“Is this him?” said a male voice quietly.

Itachi turned around subtly and was greeted by a shirtless teen about his age, blonde and with blue eyes, a picture that was completed with a cocky posture and a sneer. He was eyeing Itachi speculatively. Next to him stood Ino.

“Yup,” said the blonde in a hushed tone. Apparently, they weren’t aware of the fact that Itachi could hear them. “I have to admit, Sakura’s cousin cleans up well.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” replied the teen, who Itachi assumed was Touya. “There’s no way he’s going to beat me. Just look at these abs.” He pointed at his own abs, which were proudly on display. Itachi, meanwhile, was wondering what was so special about having abs. Then again, Sakura had wanted him to show his forearms, for reasons unknown to him. It was around then that she came back, shooting a challenging glance at Ino, but not engaging.

“Listen, Stalker-san,” Sakura told him after they were out of hearing range. “There are four candidates other than you. I’ve signed us up last so that you could leave a lasting impression on people. Your turn is after Touya, The Asshole Himself.”

“I see,” nodded Itachi. He hoped this would work.

 

 

And then the competition began.

Seeing as Itachi had no need for validation, he wasn’t particularly nervous about losing. However, he still felt a little unsettled as he watched candidate after candidate appear on stage. The first one was shirtless again. For whatever reason. The man then proceeded to strike a few poses and wink dashingly at the audience. Next came another participant, who was dressed in a fancy get-up and proceeded to create a beautiful piece of music by rubbing the top of an assortment of wine cups. Itachi was deeply impressed with this performance and certain that the wine cup musician would win.

“Am I supposed to do something that impressive as well?” he asked Sakura worriedly.

Sakura turned toward him. “Well, you’re a ninja, right? I figured you could just do a few flips or something.”

Itachi blinked. Flips? But how was he going to ever top the amazing display with the wine cups by flipping about? He gave Sakura a dubious look.

“Look,” said Sakura. “Just trust me, okay? There’s no rule against ninja participating, but your audience are civilians, so it’s best if you don’t do anything too flashy. Some basic acrobatics should be fine.”

Itachi wasn’t certain about that, but figured that there wasn’t much else he could do. He turned back to the next contestant, a man with a sleeveless shirt and very large biceps, which he kept flexing. And that was it. He just strolled about and flexed his biceps. And was that a pec moving? What was with these people and their pectoral obsession?

Finally, it was Touya’s turn. Itachi was curious about his so-called adversary. The blonde was still shirtless, but was wearing an open white blazer over his exposed chest, for reasons unfathomable to Itachi. This strange getup was completed with white pants, lacquered shoes, and a plastic rose between his teeth. To top it all off, Touya suavely reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, paused for dramatic effect… and, adopting a velvety voice, began to recite smarmy poetry.

 

Down bellow, the female crowd was swooning, and Itachi even spotted Ino shooting Sakura a victorious glance. Sakura, meanwhile, was starting to look worried.

“Oh, he’d good,” she was muttering with a blush.

Finally, Touya finished his recital, winking at the whooping girls and ignoring the boos from the part of the crowd who had come to witness his downfall.

And then it was Itachi’s turn.

“You can do it, Stalker-san!” Sakura whispered encouragingly. Though she didn’t sound very sure. And so, Itachi was left to walk up the stage on his lonesome, feeling rather like he was walking toward his execution instead.

“Psst, boy.” He suddenly turned around and found Yuna and her cat peering at him from behind a corner. “Over here.”

Itachi walked over.

“What’s your performance going to be?” rasped the old woman.

“…flips…”

“Right.” She looked him up and down. “Listen, yer a ninja, right?”

Itachi blinked. How had she known that?

“I know everything.”

“I see.”

“Look here,” said Yuna. “There ain’t nothing those silly girls don’t like more than a hero.”

“Ah.”

“I’ll leave it at that.”

And with these cryptic words, Yuna strode off.

Meanwhile, Itachi finally walked up the stage, feeling very out of place. Over fifty faces had turned to watch him attentively. Suddenly, music filled the area, and, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sakura making dancing motions at him. Itachi felt his heart sink. What had he gotten himself into? He knew next to nothing about flipping about in tandem with music, and he wasn’t about to make his first attempt now. Why on Earth had he agreed to this again?

Eyeing the expectant crowd, Itachi suddenly had the idea that perhaps he could put them all in a genjutsu to make it seem as though he was completing some admirable performance. Thinking this, he walked closer to the end of the stage so that he could look everyone in the eye. Quietly, Itachi surveyed the faces of the crowd, who were all looking back at him, starting to gather his chakra in preparation for the genjutsu.

 

 

Meanwhile, Ino and Touya were watching with gritted teeth as Sakura’s cousin advanced forward upon the walkway. His walk was confident but silent, graceful, and Ino could already tell that half the fangirls were captivated even though he hadn’t yet opened his mouth.

He was somewhat charming, she had to hand it to him. In a quiet but intense sort of way. He had begun to gaze at the crowd, making eye-contact with every single person… it was immediately clear that something about him was just completely different from all the other contestants.

“What’s he doing?” hissed Touya.

“A single glance can be worth more than a thousand words,” explained Ino glumly. She was an expert on body language, after all, and knew that actions such as these could have a larger impact than any number of murmured verses.

“Are you dismissing my poetry?” Touya muttered surreptitiously.

Ino rolled her eyes."Of course not, Touya-kun." Though it was technically a rip-off from a book.

Touya nodded, placated. “Besides, what does this guy even think? That he can win just by soulfully gazing into people’s eyes?”

As he was saying this, someone uexpectedly shouted: “Oh, woe! Goliath, no!”

Everyone turned to look at the speaker, an old woman who was pointing at something in a tree on the other end of the park. But Ino wasn't fooled by the grandmotherly facade. She knew that woman: Yuna. The old hag was one of Forehead’s most cunning allies. And so was her cat, for that matter... an animal with almost human intelligence. Said cat was currently dangling precariously from the uppermost tree-branch, looking as if was going to fall to its death any second.

The crowd gasped tremulously, all of their attention transferred to the cat. Suddenly, the people began parting like the read sea. And as Ino craned her neck to find out why, the parting crowd had suddenly reached her section, so she stepped back just like everyone else out of instinct. And suddenly she knew why: of all people, Sakura’s cousin had taken off at a dead sprint, dashing toward the cat with a concerned look on his face. Just in that second – plot twist – the cat lost its grip from the tree-branch and began to plummet toward the ground. Sakura’s cousin began to sprint toward the tree faster, and when he reached it, he didn’t even slow down. It looked as if he was going to run straight into the tree. The crowd gasped yet again as, instead of a dramatic crash, he used the tree as a springboard of sort and just… shot into the air like a corkscrew, spinning through the distance in an amazing display of acrobatics and smoothly retrieving the mewling cat in midair.

Artfully.

 

 

 

 

By the time he’d landed on the ground again, feather light, as he cradled the feline to his chest, the crowd had gone wild. Absolutely everyone, save for Ino and Touya, began to clap frantically. It was clear who was the winner.

Enraged, Ino turned around to glare at Sakura. Surprisingly, her former friend looked just as elated as anyone else… but then Ino looked at Yuna and just knew. The old woman was grinning, toothless, a cunning glint in her eye. Ino had no doubts right then that she had staged the situation somehow. Damn her.

 

Itachi, of course, had realized what the old woman was up to as soon as he’d seen her cat in danger. It had vexed him greatly, as he didn’t approve of animal endangerment as a method to accomplish victory. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like the woman had shared her plan with him beforehand, so all he could truly do was to save the cat and leave it at that. He was mad at Yuna, however, for caring so little about the well-being of her pet. He didn’t even intend to stick around to resume his so called performance. Casting a genjutsu would’ve clearly been the safer option. Unfortunately, before he could leave to give Yuna a piece of his mind, he was dragged toward a stage and declared the winner of the pageant. They shoved a crown on his head and forced him to stand in line before the other candidates, who were all glaring at him. It wasn’t a particularly fulfilling experience.

When he was finally allowed to leave, Yuna was gone. Sakura, whose face had lighted up upon seeing him, was looking at him with confusion now.

“Everything okay? You look kind of upset.” she asked hesitantly.

“Did you know about Yuna’s plan?” Itachi asked crossly.

Sakura blinked. “You mean… wait, her cat in the tree and stuff… that was planned?”

“Yes, it was,” said Itachi moodily and took the crown off his head.

“Stupid old woman,” Sakura said with a frown. “As much as I love her, she can do some shitty things sometimes. Though her cat does have a reputation for surviving fifty foot drops.”

“She does?”

Sakura nodded. “Rumor has it, Goliath once even fell from the Hokage’s office window and nothing happened to him.”

“Ah…” said Itachi distractedly. It just figured the old woman would be so careless. “I’m sure Goliath and Tora would get along well, in that case.”

“You’re right. They’d make quite the pair!” Sakura giggled. “Imagine if they had babies. They’d be super cats!”

Itachi shook his head, bemused, and put the crown on Sakura’s head.

“Huh?” She looked at him questioningly. “Why are you giving me this?”

“You did most of the work,” he stated plainly. Without Sakura, he wouldn’t have even participated.

Sakura fingered the crown thoughtfully. “Well, I guess it’ll be pretty neat to tease Ino pig with this. Thanks, Stalker-san.”

“That’s alright,” said Itachi. However, he did have to wonder whether he’d helped mend Sakura and Ino’s friendship at all, or whether his own victory had only added fuel to the fire of their rivalry. At least he had learned to bargain, he consoled himself. And he’d be getting free dango.

 

And as it turned out, free dango was a good distraction from the fact that he was ill. More so, when it turned out that none of the medics in the Konoha hospital knew what his condition was. They had been able to assure him, however, that channeling chakra into his lungs would not affect the pathogen within them in any way, as they were two separate entities. In fact, they had recommended the practice for when he had trouble breathing. This had been the only positive aspect of his second visit to the hospital. It had meant that Itachi could continue to practice the air step after all.

 

Days blurred together. His mornings were often occupied with going to the hospital, where test after test was performed on him. Itachi had even been informed that specialists from other hospitals across the country were being contacted, but communication was slow, and so far no one had made a breakthrough.

When he wasn’t busy being prodded by needles or being told to pee in a cup, Itachi turned his attention inward, to his crow summons, and focused on what Karasu was seeing. And so, he observed his brother’s progress with his elemental chakra. He watched as Sakura finally managed to sense Kakashi’s presence one morning. He even saw with interest as Uzumaki Naruto managed to create a tiny cut in his leaf for the first time. However, nothing could truly distract him from the sterile hospital smell or the whispering doctors or the looks of pity being shot at him. It wasn’t just that; the hospital reminded him too much of the teammates he’d lost within its walls. Every single one of them, he could remember with clarity, as well as the hours spent waiting fearfully outside of the ICU room. Needless to say, Itachi disliked hospitals. Even when he wasn’t there, the building loomed threateningly on the edges of his conscience.

His evenings practicing the air-step weren’t the same anymore either. As enthusiastic as Sakura was, Itachi just wasn’t feeling it.

 

And so it was she who managed to get the hang of the technique first. One evening, she came running into the clearing, a hot pink notebook clutched in her fist eagerly. She’d opened it up, and, to Itachi’s perplexity, revealed a complex string of equations and advanced calculus within its heart-filled pages. Now Itachi was starting to regret his short Academy stay, if students got to learn so extensively about physical theorems. Itachi had dabbed in them himself, naturally, but it had been years since he’s used calculus at all, and he would gladly welcome a refresher. So he asked Sakura if he could read through it more closely, to which she’d stared at him with a drooping mouth and wide eyes and stuttered that of course, he could take his time.

So Itachi had perused her notebook to his heart’s content and found that, yes, for all intents and purposes, Sakura had figured out the proper mechanics of the air step. Apparently, she had worked out the physical equations for the solution thanks to the application of complex pressure formulas. Itachi, who was beginning to remember all of his long-forgotten knowledge, checked over everything and had found her calculus to be sound. He had said as much to Sakura, which had been a great cause of joy for her. She had claimed most people didn’t react to her ‘nerd moments’ the way Itachi had.

After that, the air walk had just kind of clicked.

It would take a lot of fine-tuning, certainly, but as Itachi stood upside down upon the water and practiced his kicks and forms, he knew that, should it ever become more widely known, it would revolutionize water-combat. In an underwater fight, provided he was still alive by then, he would have an immense advantage over his opponents, who would be limited to swimming and would thus have their mobility restricted.

He glanced at what Sakura was doing and found her rushing about upside down and jumping from one place to the other, a blissful expression on her face. Itachi figured she had a right to be proud.

 

 

It wasn’t until both Itachi and Sakura emerged from the Uchiha lake, both panting and soaked to the bone, that it occurred to Itachi that perhaps he might not meet Sakura again. They had managed to perform the air-step, which had been the whole point of their meetings in the first place. Of course, neither had mastered the technique yet, but now that they had figured out the hard part, Itachi figured that that would follow suit. To be honest, he was surprised at how saddened he felt in light of this. He hadn’t even realized it himself, but practicing the air-steps was currently one of the very few things that motivated him. And Sakura was the only person he conversed with, save for perhaps the inn keeper. It was disheartening to think that he’d soon be alone again.

Sakura, on her part, seemed to have realized none of this. She was elated about her accomplishment, to the point where she cajoled Itachi to get some celebratory sweets with her. As they had before, they both picked up their sweet of choice from Shiemi-oba-san and sat down upon their usual bench, Sakura with a bag full of mochi, Itachi with his beloved dango. They took to people watching as they usually did, though today something was different. Itachi tensed when he felt a respectable amount of chakra signatures hovering somewhere behind them. He turned slightly and glimpsed a group of teenage girls sitting on another bench. A few of them met his gaze, but the majority suddenly lowered their gazes and pretended to be busy. What all of them had in common, however, was that as soon as Itachi looked, they started to giggle. He turned around, feeling slightly disturbed.

“Looks like you have fangirls now, Stalker-san,” Sakura said cheekily.

Itachi was starting to regret ever participating in that pageant. “So it seems,” he commented. He glanced back around and the girls began to giggle again. Itachi suppressed a wince. They were wrong to like him. He wished he could tell them.

“Don’t worry,” said Sakura next to him. “They’re harmless.”

Itachi lifted a brow at her.

“I mean it,” Sakura insisted. “After all, I’ve been a fangirl myself for years.”

She admitted it without a problem, and Itachi suddenly worried about Sasuke. “I hope you didn’t follow my – your teammate around.”

Sakura blinked. “Sasuke-kun? I would never! I’m not that bold, you know?”

Itachi stared her down. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Sakura scowled.

“Good. Because I’m starting to worry about his safety.”

Sakura glared at him. “Sasuke can cope with a bunch of fangirls.”

Itachi found it amusing how she included herself in that category, yet simultaneously dissed it. “Is that so?”

“Careful, Stalker-san. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous of Sasuke’s fanbase.”

Itachi’s mouth opened in shock.

“Ah, now you’re gaping suspiciously,” Sakura remarked faux-seriously. “That’s not helping your case, Stalker-san!”

When Itachi continued to stare at her with shock, Sakura returned the look for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Stalker-san,” she wheezed, patting his elbow with one hand and clutching her stomach with the other. “Calm down, I was just teasing!”

Itachi closed his mouth. “I’m not following…”

Sakura grinned. “Have you never been teased before or what? I was pulling your leg, silly.”

Itachi remembered that Shisui had had a tendency to ‘tease’ him, as he called it, as well, but Itachi had never really understood him back then either.

“It was a joke?” he concluded.

“Yes.”

“Then why did you look so serious?”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Outwardly, I was trying to look serious so I could tease you, Stalker-san. But I was mentally cracking up.”

She was mentally… cracking? Did she need a psych evaluation? Itachi decided that no, this must probably be one of her strange expressions. Possibly, it was a synonym of being amused.

“How can I tell teasing apart from a serious demand then?” Itachi asked with a furrowed brow. Why was communication so complicated?

Sakura looked at him with amusement. “I don’t know. Context clues?” When Itachi just stared at her, she sighed. “See that man over there?” She pointed at a man who wore a serious expression and was chastising his daughter. “Is he teasing or not?”

Itachi frowned, resisting the temptation to activate his sharingan. He couldn’t see the daughter’s expression, but the father’s seemed serious enough. However, Sakura’s countenance had also been serious while she was teasing him. Itachi was lost. He didn’t think his father had ever teased him while he was scolding Itachi… right? At least, he had never ‘cracked up’ in the middle of it.

“Earth to Stalker-san?” Sakura called out. Itachi blinked at her. “So? What’s the verdict?”

“The father isn’t teasing his daughter,” Itachi decided. Though it came out a little like a question.

Sakura looked at him with some amusement and then shook her head with a smile. “Of course he isn’t. He’s scolding her! Can’t you see the grim look on his face?”

Itachi nodded hesitantly, though the truth was, without his sharingan activated, his sight had deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t properly see that far away.

Sakura grinned. “Seriously, Stalker-san. Your social skills need some work, huh?”

Itachi nodded.

“Well, I suppose we could do some more people watching. What can you tell me about those two?” She pointed at another pair of chatting civilians. These two were even farther away, and Itachi truly couldn’t see their expressions no matter how hard he squinted. He tried to listen to the conversation, but the street was too loud.

“The man in red is… thanking the other person,” he settled on. Though, for all that he knew, he might as well have said that he was challenging the other to a duel for his honor.

“Uh, Stalker-san…” said Sakura. “That’s a woman. With short hair.”

“Oh.”

Sakura peered at him speculatively. “Stalker-san, you’ve been squinting like your life depended on it. Can you even see properly?”

Itachi blanched. He could not allow the enemy find out this weakness. But then he had to remind himself that Sakura wasn’t ‘the enemy’ and that truly, she had no idea about his identity.

“I have bad eyesight.”

Sakura sighed. “You know that that can be fixed, right? Have you considered glasses?”

He had – for about a millisecond, because Itachi had dismissed the idea almost as soon as he’d had it. Glasses could be smashed in a fight or simply taken away. In either scenario, they were a liability. However, for the duration of his stay in Konoha, perhaps some glasses might not be such a bad idea. In fact, they would help disguise him further.

And so, Itachi and Sakura had ended up on yet another shopping trip, this time to get him glasses. He was particularly interested in trying on sunglasses, as they would help conceal his identity and if need be, even his sharingan. However, Sakura insisted that he looked like a ‘suspicious character’ in them, and, as that was exactly what he was trying to avoid, he ended up having to settle for some normal spectacles. After having him try on at least thirty spectacles which all looked the same, Sakura had suddenly clapped her hands at number thirty one and exclaimed ‘they are the ones’ and then assured him they looked ‘cute’ on him. Itachi couldn’t really see his face in the mirror properly, so he resigned to blindly trusting Sakura’s judgment, pun sadly unintended.

 

Decision made, they informed the clerk of their choice, who then called an attendant. The newcomer took Itachi to a room, where he performed some tests on his eyes with a strange machine Itachi had been very reluctant to look into, though ended up peering into anyway. Finally, the attendant had allowed Itachi to leave, assuring him that his new glasses would be ready within the hour.

 

Itachi had relayed as much to Sakura, who, upon thinking it through, proposed they take a walk to kill time. Itachi had thought that this was a good plan. Unfortunately, their plan was foiled by one of Itachi’s newly acquired fangirls, who assaulted them at the market. Apparently, the girl was Sakura’s neighbor, though Sakura would later assure him that, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember the older girl. Unfortunately, by then it was too late. Upon sight, the ‘lucky’ female had pounced on her alleged acquaintance with Sakura like a predator mid-hunt, proceeding to bomb her with questions about the pageant until Sakura finally caved and, with an apologetic expression, introduced her to Itachi. No sooner had Itachi spoken his fake name, the girl began to ignore Sakura completely in favor of complimenting Itachi’s ‘heroic act’.

It took him a moment to realize that she was talking about rescuing a cat from a tree. The way the girl put it – Ayame or Akane or something in that vein – one would’ve thought that Itachi had prevented a war. Which technically, he had – not that she knew that. Thank Hashirama she didn’t.

 

While he was preoccupied with mentally sending his thanks to Hashirama, Sakura’s alleged neighbor continued to chatter at him and asking questions. Did he have a girlfriend? Was he a model? Oh, such an amazing fashion sense was rare in a man, surely he knew? And on that note – why did he know Sakura? What was their relationship, exactly? And then: why on earth would he want to hang out with his much younger cousin? Oh, and for that matter, what was his age? And if he truly didn’t have a girlfriend, (excited squeal) was he interested in dating? And also, did he prefer his chocolate black or white?

A very desperate Itachi (who was honestly baffled by the last one) tried to answer the questions without being rude. Thankfully, Sakura finally came to his rescue. At first, she made a show of very unsubtly checking her watch and tapping her foot. However, when that wasn’t enough to deter the infatuated female, Sakura lost her patience, harrumphed and told the girl to take a hike, because Itachi had a very boring, very family-only appointment with the optometrist, and that they had to leave. The neighbor had glared at Sakura hatefully, turned to smile cheerily at a baffled Itachi, and retreated into the shadows.

(She would’ve made a fine ninja with that kind of drive.)

Fortunately for all parties involved, she wasn’t a ninja. Due to this, her stealth was rather sub par, and both Itachi and Sakura noticed as the fangirl persistently trailed behind them, even going as far as to wait outside the optician’s shop while pretending to check out a handbag next door.

 

Needless to say, as soon as they had retrieved Itachi’s new glasses, Sakura began to devise a strategy in order to avoid their stalker upon leaving the shop. She was talking about some sort of escape route through the bathroom window, but Itachi was too engrossed in staring at his glasses to pay attention.

They looked… odd.

He had never held spectacles before, and, though he was more familiar with them than alarm clocks, Itachi could still clearly imagine his father’s opinion on his current predicament. ‘No son of mine will ever stoop so low’ he’d mutter into his collar. In spite of this, Itachi knew that if either he or Sasuke had ever truly needed the glasses, Fugaku would’ve grudgingly accepted them (after spending a long while in angry denial). Tough, to be quite fair, Itachi, too, had been in denial of his failing eyesight for a long time. It had been such a gradual process that he’d barely noticed it. However, after discovering that he could no longer read properly without the sharingan, he had been forced to accept his new reality.

And now he was holding… glasses, of all things, in the palm of his hand.

“Are you going to try them on any time today?” Sakura questioned him. “They don’t bite.” Apparently she’d finished talking about her escape plan.

Nodding, Itachi took the spectacles gingerly and lifted them to his face. At first, the onslaught of sudden clarity had him feeling slightly dazed. He looked around with amazement. Little details he hadn’t noticed before were becoming apparent around him.

“I take it they work, huh?” Sakura commented next to him, but Itachi was hardly listening, and it was all he could do to nod. As he turned back toward her, she was suddenly so much neater. The shape of her nose, the contours of her face, the little specs in her iris – he could see it all. Sakura was smiling at him without a care, and before Itachi could fully finish to process it, she had dragged him to the staff restroom. Itachi had only time to marvel at the intricate patterns of the stone slabs in the wall, before Sakura pulled him out of the window and used her chakra to follow suit.

“I feel so adventurous!” she giggled quietly. “Oh drat, I think Akemi’s looking around for us!”

As if on cue, the fangirl turned around and stared at them. From his perch on the bathroom window, Itachi stared back.

Then Sakura tugged him forward and yelled: “Run!”

And then they were running, racing through bustling streets and under lush trees, over a cart or two and onward. Sakura was sprinting full force and grinning radiantly, while Itachi was too busy looking around in wonderment. The sky was clear. He could distinguish a hawk soaring overhead, down to the little package it was carrying. He could see the dirt under his feet down to the last dust speck. He could even see the separate hairs of an eager puppy dog that was chasing after Sakura. (Itachi disregarded the owner, who was also chasing them and yelling at his dog to come back). The run was freeing. In that moment, his illness was the furthest thing from Itachi’s mind. He ran and ran and continued to admire the world. He had forgotten it was so beautiful.

Finally, Sakura came to a stop. She was panting and completely winded, but her smile was wide.

“Escape accomplished!”

Itachi returned the smile. Indeed, the fangirl was gone. He looked around, but couldn’t see anyone close by. They had ended up at the park where they’d first reunited after kidnapping Tora.

With a happy sigh, Sakura plopped down on the grass and so did he. The sun shone warmly through the trees, casting dotted little shadows upon Sakura’s face, like a dalmatian. Before them, a bee was making its rounds, swerving from flower to flower and taking what pollen it could from within. Itachi could see everything, even the separate little pollen dots from within the daisies. He clipped a dandelion from the grass and blew on it, watching with quiet reverence as the tiny white seeds fluttered into the air. A ladybug climbed from the dandelion into his hand, and Itachi moved his arm carefully in order to follow its progress. It was red and small, as it had always been, but now he could appreciate the little black dots upon the red wing covers or its little antennae, which flickered about curiously.

After a while, the ladybug took flight and landed primly upon Sakura’s hair, prompting a squeak from her. She shook her hair about, like a lion its mane, and then they both watched as the ladybug fluttered off. Itachi looked on as it disappeared between verdant blades of grass, a small smile stretching across his face. It was then that Sakura realized that it was the first time she’d seen him smile.

“You know, Stalker-san,” she commented. “You look nice when you smile.” Itachi blinked at her, surprised. “Keep it up and you might even expand your fanbase!”

“You… are you teasing me again?”

She giggled. “Looks like you aren’t a lost cause after all.”

 

 

 

The next day, team seven met at their usual training ground bright and early. Sakura, especially, was feeling pumped. Her success with the airstep had given her a much needed boost in confidence. Truly, she felt like she could pull off just about anything… including sensing Kakashi when he arrived.

The thing was, for days, she had felt like she could sense the man’s presence up on a tree. However, when she’d triumphantly pointed at the tree in question and yelled for him to come out, damn it, and to stop trying to trick her, Kakashi had done no such thing. So it had basically looked like she was chatting up trees again. (Much to Sakura’s mortification and her teammates’ bafflement).

Instead, Kakashi had done everything in his power to pull the wool over her eyes. As soon as Sakura managed to so much as sense-glimpse him, his presence suddenly became weaker and weaker, and, while Sakura clung to the mental imprint of his little ball of chakra as much as she could, she always ended up losing track of him at some point. It was unnerving, almost like he was dangling the price (the sunshin) in front of her and pulling it away just when it was within reach. The damn tease.

Every day, sensing Kakashi got harder and harder, as he concealed his presence with more zeal… but Sakura was sure that there would come a point where she’d catch him no matter what. After all, if she didn’t, her teammates would continue to think that she accused random trees of tricking her for fun. It was so unnerving. Sakura didn’t know how he always managed it, but Kakashi truly had a special talent for embarrassing her in front of her teammates. Ugh.

She supposed that the progressively increased difficulty might have made sense the first time she’d sensed him… which admittedly, had only been due to the fact that Sakura had heard some suspicious sounds in a tree. As it turned out, it had been Kakashi, who, for all his stealth, hadn’t been able to hold back his merry giggles in the face of Icha Icha. It was actually hilarious if she thought about it. Elite ninja, her butt! The man’s stealth operation had been thwarted by porn. Or rather, ‘explicit adult literature’, as he had succintly put it. Ha. He could play it cool all he wanted, but Sakura was pretty sure she’d seen his ears flush beet red right then. With all the gray hair, it had looked very odd. She wondered bemusedly whether perhaps Kakashi wore the mask to hide the fact that he was secretly a blushing maiden. And wasn’t that a though? Sakura was starting to think that the man was an even bigger fangirl than herself… almost on the verge of being a pervert, but still. Details. She could appreciate having a fellow fangirl on the team, even if he was actually a twenty-six year old dude. But who was she to look a gift horse in the mask?

For that matter, since her and Stalker-san’s encounter with his own… err, admirer, Sakura had been so horrified with ‘the dark side of fangirls’ that she had resolved not to act like one around Sasuke-kun ever again. Poor Stalker-san’s very own stalker and her besotted attentions had given Sakura secondhand gag reflexes. From now on, she’d be professional around Sasuke-kun, heck yeah. Naturally, this was easier said than done what with Sakura’s long standing infatuation, but it was the thought that counted, right?

 

Just as she was pondering whether she should drop the ‘kun’ in Sasuke’s name, she sensed him. Kakashi had arrived. Sakura looked up and straight to the tree where she could feel the man’s presence.

“Come out, or I’ll make you!” Sakura shouted imperiously.

“Are you still talking to that tree, Sakura-chan?” Naruto asked.

“Sakura, you’re not going to fool Kakashi by arbitrarily pretending you can sense him every now and then,” Sasuke added.

Sakura sniffed. “Sasuke-k…” she managed to swallow the ‘kun’ just in time. “It’s not arbitrary if he’s right there – wait…” she narrowed her eyes. Kakashi had disappeared again while she was distracted. Damn it!

“Sakura-chan, you look like someone just peed in your cereal,” Naruto said.

“Shut up, Naruto, I’m trying to focus here!”

Both of her teammates stared at her curiously as Sakura closed her eyes and concentrated.

You won’t be getting away this time, you… you fangirl, thought Sakura. She was going to sense him, damn it, and she was going to do it right now.

And then she actually did. Sakura suddenly felt a week presence appear under the little lake. She would’ve almost thought it was a goldfish… but, though it was small, it felt very compact. Starker than the chakra of the other fish… She was suddenly certain it was Kakashi.

And thinking this, Sakura strode confidently upon the lake, ignoring her teammates’ surprised sputters, and performed the air step right then and there, going under exactly where she could feel the ‘goldfish’.

 

Kakashi’s stumped expression when she suddenly appeared next to him, standing upside down on the water, was something she’d treasure for the rest of her life.

Notes:

So...? Thoughts? Opinions? I'm dying to hear them!

Chapter 7: Kakashi's Mistake

Summary:

Kakashi makes a grave mistake and Orochimaru makes his rounds...

Notes:

Just a reminder: Orochimaru murdered Anko a few chapters ago by slitting her throat.

Kakashi Hatake: loyal comrade, teacher, friend… fangirl.

Yes, Sakura’s oddball sensei was all of those things. Fortunately, he was also a man of his word and had promised to teach her the sunshin as per their agreement. After all, Sakura had sensed him, as unbelievable as it sounded. The awesome recollection still had her feeling giddy. Both of her teammates had been amazed as well (in Sasuke’s case, somewhat grudgingly), with Naruto profusely apologizing for thinking that Sakura was just randomly talking to trees, and Sasuke demanding she teach him to water-walk.

Neither of them had seen Sakura use her airstep, and Sakura hadn’t told them about it either. However, Kakashi had seen the technique in action and had been instantly captivated. Sakura hadn’t even thought that it would be particularly useful. To her, the airstep’s invention had been but a game, a challenge to push her chakra control to its limits. But not to Kakashi.

After they were done with their training for the day, he had taken Sakura aside to question her about it. When she had explained how she’d come up with the concept (leaving out Stalker-san) and detailed her current control over the technique, Kakashi’s eye had widened. To Sakura’s surprise, he seemed to consider the airstep a much bigger deal than she did. When she’d said as much, Kakashi had paused to think for a moment, then defied all expectations by coming up with over ten different applications for it on the spot. He had even remarked how, had he, for instance, been able to airstep during his fight against Zabuza, things might have gone very differently. The man’s sheer creativity, which had allowed him to come up with all sorts of uses for the technique in seconds, had Sakura completely in awe. She’d never realized what amazing analysis skills he had. With all of this said and done, Sakura had ended up giving Kakashi her notes on the topic, explaining what she could about the technique’s mechanics and demonstrating it for Kakashi to examine with his sharingan. After a while of explaining things and Kakashi assuring her that he would try his best to master the airstep as well, he had given Sakura’s head a thorough ruffle (something he had only done to the boys until then) and bid her a cheery goodbye.

 

 

And in that moment, Sakura’s only thought was that the sheer respect in his eyes had been more than worth the effort. The rush it had given her was almost addicting, like a drug. She’d never admit this to anyone, but from then on, Sakura knew she’d keep craving that feeling of respect, of accomplishment, of being worth more than her pretty looks. She longed for Kakashi to look at her like that again.

So it was decided, thought Sakura decisively. She would master the chiheisen and the sunshin no matter what, and then she’d show Kakashi and he’d be gobsmacked. And then she’d become the most badass, gorgeous, romantic, kick-ass kunoichi in history!

Given, her first attempts that morning at the sunshin had been an absolute disaster, but Sakura had faith. The chiheisen, for one, was progressing along very nicely. Thanks to her daily training, Sakura could already activate the genjutsu very quickly and use it to measure all the things around her with near flawless precision. However, now that she had mastered the actual genjutsu came the hard part: Sakura would need to learn how to use the acquired measurements and angles to calculate everything just so in order to deflect many shuriken with only one of her own. Needless to say, this was easier said than done.

For the moment, Sakura was practicing a bastardized version of the exercise, using still targets as she tried to get two of her own shuriken, thrown near simultaneously, to rebound off each other and hit both targets. Even though this was much easier than deflecting an incoming shuriken with her own, Sakura had quickly realized that it would take a lot of work until she could pull the ‘easy’ exercise off. Because, though her aim was very good (it was one of the few things that just needed a lot of mindless practice), it wasn’t good enough.

Practicing the chiheisen every day was helping improve it even more, but Sakura had realized that it still wasn’t up to par with what she needed. Because her aim would need to be a second nature to her, something she could do in her sleep. Because for the chiheisen to work, Sakura would need perfect accuracy, no matter wind or weather, no matter her emotional state. And most importantly: she would have to do it without thinking at all, without any preparation, because all of Sakura’s focus would have be on calculating trajectories. And all that, while simultaneously throwing two different shuriken at once.

She cringed. Yikes. And this was just the easy version of the exercise!

Needless to say, the chiheisen was one of the hardest things Sakura had ever attempted, scratch tat, the hardest thing, hands down. If it weren’t because Kakashi had told her that she was progressing at a fast pace, she might have already quit. The whole thing was just disheartening, honest! Especially anything involving her non-dominant hand, which Sakura would need to very much dominate for the chiheisen. She could already throw left-handedly pretty decently, but doing so while using her right hand? Golly.

The thing was, until now, Sakura had always thought she was good at left handed shuriken practice. In fact, it was one of the few taijutsu skills Sakura had actually been above average at. This was a result of her own so called ‘super-special romantic training’ which she’d developed for lack there of anything else to do. The thing was, as a child, Sakura hadn’t been able to leave her house after dark to practice her aim, courtesy of her overbearing parents, and since the Academy finished as the sun set, she couldn’t train, period. But never one to give up so easily, Sakura had come up with a different method to boost her left hand’s ability – namely: using it. Yes, yes, it sounded easy. But holding chopsticks, brushing her teeth, or even writing with her left hand had seemed like hard challenges back then. And when, on the day of an important test, Sakura had sprained her right wrist… the fact that she could just switch hands like it was nothing and then finish her test, to her classmates gawking surprise, had been like a badge of honor to her. So yes, while Sakura wasn’t completely ambidextrous, it was a close thing. Cha! And there was no one or nothing that could get between her and acing a test!

 

Ahem. But she was getting sidetracked. Sakura may be good at using her left hand, but handling both hands at the same time? That was a whole new level entirely. So, being the only sane person in her team, Sakura had figured that, before she started to throw pointy weapons around with both hands, perhaps it’d be better if she got a little more used to using them in tandem first. So she had devised a new romantic super-training exercise… drawing.

Yes, yes, it was lame. Sakura knew that if her life were a book, readers would be bored to tears with her cerebral approaches to fighting and training. However, last she’d checked she wasn’t in a book, so she could do whatever she pleased. Or in other words – Sakura would sit down on her desk and attempt to draw with both hands at the same time. The resulting disfigured blobs were horrendous to look at and a blow to Sakura’s pride, but she kept at it for almost an hour daily, and slowly but surely, she was starting to see an improvement.

She was snapped out from her ruminations by someone calling her name.

“Sakura? Hey, uh, Sakura?”

Surprised, Sakura stopped walking. Glancing around, she found Ino’s teammate (what’s his name?) standing a few feet from her, seeming uncertain. Why was he speaking to her? Could it be that Ino had sent him?

Sakura immediately had to recall the blonde’s expression when, just the other day, she had casually paraded through the Yamanaka flower shop with the pageant crown on her head. Naturally, Ino had been quite outraged. For some strange reason, Sakura had suddenly remembered Stalker-san’s advice on friendship, and for an even stranger reason, had felt a strong pull to try and make up with the blonde. And yet, Sakura had been too afraid of rejection to do much of anything, but some sort of change must’ve shown on her behavior, or perhaps it was the lack of Ino’s usual entourage, because her rival’s habitually sharp tongue had softened ever so slightly. Amazingly, the two girls had managed to have something which could almost pass for a normal conversation at a normal volume. Almost.

Snapping out of the recollection, Sakura tuned in to find the guy looking at her expectantly.

“Uhh, hey.” She looked at him weirdly.

“Err, right. I was wondering if you… errr…” he scratched his head and began muttering to himself about ‘troublesome situations’. Sakura stared at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Can I help you?”

The guy rolled his eyes; but she got the feeling that it wasn’t at her, more like at the situation.

“Actually, yeah.”

She stepped a little closer. “Well, what is it?”

Sakura was starting to remember the boy from the Academy. Or more accurately: her distaste for him. She had always gotten the feeling that he looked down on the material being taught, seeing as he always acted like he was above such boring pursuits. To someone who had practically lived and breathed academics her whole life, that attitude had been quite offensive. So, even though Sakura had known that he was friends with Ino, back then she hadn’t even bothered to put up with him. She was sure that something would’ve exploded if she had. And seeing as she had the bad habit of not remembering what she disliked, Sakura still didn’t know his name. She’d go with ‘the sloth’ for now.

Anyway, the sloth was scratching his head as though pondering how to answer her question. “Well,” he drawled after a minute of making her wait. “Kakashi’s your sensei, right?”

Sakura eyed him with suspicion. “Right.”

“And I’ve heard he’s going to be the proctor for the next stage of the chunin exams.”

Say what?! Sakura hid her surprise, choosing to reply with an eloquent: “Uh-huh”

“…so I was wondering,” the sloth continued, encouraged, “if you had any useful insight for dealing with him?”

Sakura was taken aback. “Wait, how do you even know that?” she questioned slowly. “The proctor’s identity isn’t public knowledge.”

The sloth had the gall to smirk. “I have my ways.”

Sakura remembered clearly that he was from a clan and crossed her arms with distaste. “If by that you mean nepotism, then sure. Good for you.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? Gotta make use of any resources I have, right?”

Sakura couldn’t argue with that, but still. It was unfair. “Alright. Whatever. So you want insight on Kakashi, huh?”

He nodded, and Sakura sighed. She had just been thinking about how she wanted to make up with Ino and this was clearly a great chance. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Okay…” she reluctantly caved. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

The sloth shook his head, and Sakura wanted to grab his ponytail and give an annoyed pull. If he wanted a favor, the least he could do was give verbal responses. She gripped her knuckles and forced herself to remain calm.

“Fine, then you can walk me home. It’s a ten minute walk, so you have plenty of time to ask me any questions.”

“Fair enough,” he said. They were silent for a moment. “So, if you to hazard a guess… what will Kakashi’s test be?”

“It’s going to be hell, that’s what.”

“I was talking more about the details.”

“Hmm.” Sakura feigned pensiveness, but truly, she didn’t even have to think about it. “Teamwork. No matter what it looks like, that’s the only way you’ll be able to pass.”

The sloth narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘no matter what it looks like’?”

Sakura frowned, wondering how to put it. “Well… he’s pretty unconventional, and he has a wicked sense of humor. If he can get away with humiliating you while he’s at it, he’ll go for it.”

“Humiliate us?” repeated the sloth, sounding perplexed. There was an unspoken question in his statement, but Sakura wasn’t about to answer anything until he freaking bothered to open his mouth. Instead, she said wryly:

“Yup. And if he can mess with you in the process, even better.”

“Okay, fine. Now I’m curious. What was your genin test like?”

Sakura chuckled ominously. He had no idea what was coming, did he?

“An absolute disaster,” she remarked. “Kakashi snuck up behind Naruto while forming the tiger seal,” the sloth’s eyes widened, “so Sasuke and I thought something horrible was going to happen and probably blew our cover by gasping or something. But instead, Sensei just poked Naruto in the butt and sent him flying.” By then, he was staring at her incredulously. Sakura couldn’t help but smirk. “So yeah. That basically sums up Kakashi’s modus operandi. He threatens you, attempting to get a thoughtless reaction, and then he does something to embarrass you and make everyone involved, including him, look like an idiot.”

The sloth’s mouth opened, then closed. Finally:

“…he sounds like a handful.”

“Yeah,” Sakura had to agree wistfully. “Sensei’s such a dork.”

“You don’t look all that bothered.”

“Well, not really,” Sakura said. In fact, though she’d never admit it, she privately thought that she wouldn’t trade Kakashi for the world. “You get used to it,” she settled on. “Besides, Kaka-sensei can be really sweet sometimes, and a fangirl to bat.” Her comment didn’t seem to have the desired effect, so Sakura hurried to add: “Not to mention, I get the feeling that he actually cares a lot about our team… even if he’s constantly leaving us with his bill.”

Grrrr…

The sloth chuckled. “Still seems too troublesome for me.”

“Hmp. Suit yourself,” Sakura sniffed. But then her curiosity got the better of her in turn. “What’s your sensei like, anyway?”

“Uhh… well, the opposite of yours, I think,” he pondered out loud. “He takes us out for lunch – which is saying something when Choji’s involved – and he pays for it too.”

“I meant what he’s like as a teacher,” Sakura deadpanned, disliking the fact that Ino’s sensei had one-uped Kakashi.

“Pretty laid back” the sloth said with a shrug. “And he plays shogi like a pro.”

Sakura blinked owlishly at him. “Shogi? Isn’t that for old men?”

A huff. “Troublesome. I’ll have you know, shogi’s art.”

Sakura could tell she’d found his weakness. “Sure,” she said with a smirk. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Now he snorted.

Recalling his absolute disdain for academics, Sakura added: “I hadn’t pegged you as the type to be into that kind of thing.”

The sloth raised a brow at her. Gods, was he too lazy for words, or what?

“Huh,” he said finally. “I could say the same to you.”

Her eyebrow twitched.

“I’m not into shogi.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, but you’re into the elemental equations of ballistics, apparently.”

Sakura gaped, mortified. “Wait.” Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

The sloth didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “Ino took a stroll through your brain during the first test, that’s all.”

“What do you mean that’s all?!” Sakura yelled in outrage. She couldn’t believe the nerve of that damn pig…!

To make her aggravation worse, the sloth seemed unbothered. “Anyway. Thanks for the advise. I’ll try to keep it in mind.” And with that, he strolled off. Sakura wanted to run after him and sock him on the head, or better yet, grab him by his dumb ponytail and shake him silly, but she refrained. Barely.

 

“Who was that?” a new voice shook her out of her reverie.

“Oh, Stalker-san!” Sakura exclaimed. He was leaning on a wall, his hands busy with cleaning his new glasses. “Did you hear all that?”

“I did,” Itachi agreed. He had been rather bored, he had to admit. “And I agree with your assessment of Kakashi-senpai.”

Sakura nodded, remembering his initial question. “I actually have no clue.”

Itachi stared at her for a moment. “You don’t know who it was?”

“No…” she admitted. “I mean, I remember him from the Academy because he used to get on my nerves, but that’s it.”

“How come?” Itachi asked, curious about the ‘full Academy experience’. After all, as an introverted six year old, he had pretty much kept to himself back then, and all in all, his stay at the Academy had been rather short. In fact, Itachi barely remembered any of it, as he hadn’t really paid much attention in class, for the topics were all things he had already known. He had taken to cast a genjutsu to look like he was working and then proceeded to take extended naps. Or, if he was feeling particularly fidgety, he’d make a shadow clone and skive off.

“Why did that guy get on my nerves?” Sakura meanwhile echoed, huffing. “Well, it was his attitude, obviously.”

“Was he rude?”

“Very. He never bothered to participate in class unless, of course, to make snide remarks to expose the teacher’s slip ups.” She frowned. “Not to mention, he had the gall to just fall asleep in the middle. Of. Each. Lesson.” She stomped her foot angrily. “Talk about entitled!”

Itachi paled. Her description certainly rung a bell. “…perhaps your classmate was already familiar with the material?”

“I seriously doubt it. But even if that were the case, that’s no excuse,” Sakura ranted. “It’s like he didn’t realize that his actions were offensive to everyone else!”

Itachi stared at his feet. “I’m sure he wasn’t trying to be…”

“Bullshit!” said Sakura. “It wouldn’t take a rocket-scientist to realize that his attitude amounted to calling everyone around him an idiot!”

It was only then that she noticed Itachi’s look of absolute dismay… and it suddenly dawned on her what it might mean.

“Wait…” she whispered. “Don’t tell me…”

Itachi was looking away in embarrassment. “Yes,” he confessed. “I skived off.”

Sakura gaped. “You what?!”

“It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

She continued to gape. “Hashirama’s soggy mullet! I can’t believe I’m friends with such a troublemaker!”

Itachi looked at her blankly for a moment. “We’re friends?”

“…”

Sakura continued to glare at him, and Itachi was starting to grow uncomfortable.

“Are you teasing me again?” he asked cautiously.

Sakura twitched.

“DO I LOOK LIKE I’M TEASING YOU?”

She looked funny, all puffed up and outraged. Itachi suppressed a chuckle, which only earned him another glare.

“Something funny?” Sakura snapped.

Itachi immediately schooled his expression, but not quickly enough.

Her eyes narrowed, Sakura made an ‘I am watching you motion’ with her fingers, then turned around and stomped toward her house. “Are you coming or what?” she threw over her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Itachi did, hoping for a change of topic but having no idea how to initiate it.

“By the way,” Sakura suddenly turned toward him and gestured vaguely at his spectacles. “How are those working for you?”

 

He blinked. It seemed his wish had come true. “They are… better than I had expected,” he told her. Actually, that was an understatement. In spite of his initial reservations, Itachi had come to adore his glasses. “Thank you, Sakura.”

She smiled at him proudly. “Glad I could help. Now you owe me big time for helping you pick those beautiful frames out.”

He did?

The second most important rule his father had instilled into Itachi as a boy was to pay his debts promptly. (The first had been to never owe anyone anything.)

“I already went to that beauty pageant for you,” he told Sakura. “That should make us even.”

“Nope,” Sakura countered. “Or did you forget? I let you learn the airstep with me, even though it was my idea.”

Itachi glared at her half-heartedly. He was sure he could’ve figured it out by himself as well. Though he supposed the idea had been Sakura’s.

“Alright. What do you want?”

Sakura peered at him hopefully. “Well… do you remember that amazing flip you did when you were catching Goliath?”

Itachi did remember. It had been a frontal cartwheel combined with a clockwise forty-five degree spin. Its purpose had been to slow his jump in order to better catch the cat, seeing as Itachi had overdone it and channeled too much chakra into his feet during take off. Later, it had occurred to him that he could’ve just waited on the ground for the cat to fall. It had been a foolish oversight, though he was aware that his reaction had been normal, expected even, for a ninja. When catching a teammate, a ninja’s first instinct was always to do so in the air, for they and said teammate would be more vulnerable if the ninja waited on the ground. He was in the middle of reviewing his cat-catching performance when Sakura called out to him.

“Stalker-san, anyone there? The flip.”

“Yes, I remember,” Itachi said at last.

“So I was wondering if you could… y’know. Teach me to flip gracefully like that.”

Itachi looked at her with surprise. Of all the skills he had, flipping barely even registered as something worth learning. It could be useful to dodge, but only sometimes, and definitely wasn’t very practical in a serious fight.

“Why would you want to learn that?” he asked curiously. Perhaps he was missing something.

Sakura flushed. “Because… I want to be as graceful as Ino.”

Ah. He should’ve known.

“Alright,” Itachi agreed after a moment of thought. He did owe her, after all. “I suppose I can try to teach you.”

In his entire career, Itachi had never taught anyone anything, so he wasn’t sure if he’d be any good. Or rather, he was positive that he wouldn’t be. He had no idea how to go about teaching anyone to backflip. Not to mention, Itachi had spent most of his (very short stay) at the Academy spacing out. He barely even remembered what a teacher was supposed to act like.

“Sweet!” cheered Sakura, unaware of his thoughts. “When do we start?”

Itachi figured they might as well begin right there. “What kind of flips can you do right now?” he asked, mentally calculating possibilities.

Sakura blushed and looked down. Then she muttered something which, for all his ninja training, Itachi could not hear.

“Come again?”

“…none.”

It was said so quietly that Itachi still almost didn’t catch it again. But then the words registered and he stared at Sakura, completely taken aback. She didn’t know how to perform a basic flip? How on earth was she a genin then? Never mind that – how on earth had she made kunoichi of the year?

“I was talking about basic stunts…” he said hesitantly. “Like a zero-hands cartwheel or a back flip.”

Sakura sniffed. “Those aren’t basic.”

Itachi didn’t know what to say to that. Alright. Apparently she truly didn’t know anything. He remembered that he’d learned to cartwheel almost in tandem with proper a running technique, and he’d been three or four at the time. His mother had once even claimed that he’d picked up floor rolls as a baby – right along with crawling. Things like acrobatics had come quite naturally to Itachi, or perhaps not, perhaps his father had taught him when he was very small. But the point was, he could barely remember when he’d learned them, never mind how.

He did, however, remember how his father had taught Sasuke when his little brother hadn’t taken to acrobatics the way Itachi had.

At the time, Sasuke had been six and still hadn’t known how to cartwheel or back flip, and was showing no interest in learning no matter how many snide comments their father had made at dinner. So Fugaku had lost his patience one day, confiscated Sasuke’s plush dinosaur, and told him that he’d only get it back once he could perform an acceptable cartwheel.

It had been a nightmarish week. Itachi hadn’t been there for all of it, but he vividly remembered the sleepless nights filled with Sasuke’s wailing almost as well as he recalled Sasuke’s small backside, bruised black and blue from his failed attempts. Upon seeing the bruises, Itachi’s protective instinct had made itself known, and he’d gone to spy on his father and brother as they trained by the lake. For an entire afternoon, one of his shadow clones had watched Fugaku methodically throw Sasuke into the lake time and time again. Sasuke’s job, apparently, was to pick up flipping in midair. Itachi had been too afraid of being caught skiving off from missions to reveal himself.

However, that night, Itachi had finished his mission early and gone to visit his little brother. He had found Sasuke crying in his tatami, his body completely bruised and his dinosaur absent. Naturally, Itachi had risked Fugaku’s wrath by sneaking into his parents bedroom and taking the dinosaur back for the night. With Mr Foggy’s silent support, Sasuke had finally slept enough for the rest of the house to follow suit. And two days afterward, he’d cartwheeled all the way to the Academy and back. He could recall Shisui’s amused teasing about Mr Foggy clearly.

Sakura, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten over her embarrassment and was looking at him expectantly. “Uhh… are you still going to teach me?”

Itachi frowned. “I’m not sure if I’m adequate for the job. I… wasn’t at the Academy when they taught flips of any kind.”

Sakura blinked at him. “Of course you weren’t. Acrobatics aren’t deemed essential to a ninja’s arsenal, so they don’t get taught.”

“What?” Itachi stared at her in befuddlement. “But everyone can do them.”

“If by clan kids you mean everyone,” said Sakura with an edge of bitterness in her voice, “then yes, I suppose they can.”

Itachi opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything. Finally, he settled on: “why don’t you ask Kakashi-senpai to teach you?”

Sakura shrugged. “I mean, I guess I could. But… I guess I don’t want Sasuke-kun to know that I can’t do them.”

“What about Uzumaki-san?” asked Itachi. Naruto Uzumaki was an orphan, but Itachi was quite positive he’d seen him perform basic acrobatics, even if his technique was off.

“You want me to ask Naruto to teach me cartwheels?” Sakura asked, horrified.

“He is an orphan,” Itachi said. “I’m sure he must’ve taught himself. Perhaps he’d have ideas which could help you.”

Sakura’s eyes widened, clearly surprised. “I’d never thought about it like that… but… I don’t really think Naruto could help me all that much. The way we learn things is completely different. I need theory, he needs application.”

And Itachi didn’t need to know the boy personally to realize that he would be incapable of explaining much of anything. “But that still leaves Kakashi-senpai. You could ask him privately.”

Sakura frowned. “I guess. But he’s a pretty hands-off teacher. And… I was finally starting to impress him a little, I think. So I really, really don’t want him to find out either.”

She was talking about her inability to do a cartwheel as though it were the darkest secret out there. Itachi found her innocence amusing. He could understand her desire to seem capable in the eyes of Kakashi-senpai, as Itachi had felt it as well during his time in team Ro.

So he acquiesced. “I will do my best to teach you some acrobatics then, Sakura,” he promised. “However, I don’t think I’m well-equipped to be a teacher.”

Sakura smiled. “That’s alright. How did you learn, anyway?”

Itachi could only remember how Sasuke had, so he decided to go with that. “My father threw me into a lake until I could flip in midair.”

Sakura stared at him blankly, her mouth agape. “Sorry, what?”

“My fath–”

“No, I heard you the first time.” She was staring at him in shock. “Is that seriously how clans teach their children?”

Itachi shrugged. “I would imagine so.”

“Wow, but that’s so hardass,” Sakura commented. “Somehow, I can’t picture Ino-pig being thrown into a lake. And she sure knows how to be graceful in the air.”

To be fair, Itachi couldn’t picture it either. “You could just ask her for help.”

“Over my dead body!”

“Alright, then I suppose we will have to go with the lake.”

Sakura blanched. “No, please. Not that. I’m scared of heights.”

Itachi sighed. He should’ve seen it coming. “Then what would you suggest?”

“Pillows? And a mattress?” Sakura offered.

“You want to practice in your room?” Itachi concluded.

“No way! My mom would find out if I did.”

“But you don’t have a garden.”

Sakura frowned. She didn’t. It was actually one of the reasons why she’d fallen behind in taijutsu so much – by the time kunoichi lessons ended, it was usually dark out already, a time at which her parents hadn’t let her leave her house alone until she was eleven. Not that she’d ever been particularly eager to, but how was Sakura supposed to go jogging or practice her aim without a place to do so? Now she could leave whenever it pleased her, naturally, but that still didn’t solve the mattress problem. Where else could she find an unused mattress, anyway? Struck by inspiration, Sakura jolted. She knew exactly where. “I have an idea.”

Itachi cocked his head sideways. “Yes?”

“We go to Yuna.”

He frowned. “She mistreats her cat.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Actually, she’s very sweet to Goliath… most of the time. But the point is, she has a storage room with an old mattress in it. I bet we can get her to let us practice there.”

“What about the air-step?” Itachi interjected. “The technique needs to be perfected.”

Sakura nodded. “That’s true. We could meet by the lake as usual and then go to Yuna’s afterward. How’s that?”

Itachi nodded his assent. It was a sound plan.

 

 

 

 

Later that day, Itachi decided to bring flowers to his parents’ graves. He didn’t think Sasuke would suspect him, of all people, if he saw them. So it should be safe.

Keeping this in mind, Itachi asked for directions to the best flower shop in the village until he made it to a tastefully decorated business. He knew that a lot of shinobi must visit it due to the high death rates that came with the job, so he figured that a genjutsu to conceal his identity might be counter-productive to his goal in this case, acting as a red flag. Ruffling trough his pockets, Itachi had found the bandana he had bargained for at Yuna’s, red with a black feather imprint, and tied it around his head. The item made him look very different and concealed his signature hairstyle, so he took it as a win. With these preparations complete, he entered the shop.

“Welcome to Yam – you’re Forehead’s cousin!”

Itachi stared at the person manning the counter… It was Ino.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked politely.

“Nah,” said Ino. “My feud with Forehead stays out of this shop. Uh, how may I help you?”

Itachi pondered this. Interesting. It seemed Sakura and Ino had their appreciation for money in common.

He spoke up: “I would like to purchase a bouquet of white carnations.” It was what his parents had bought when Kagami-san had died.

“We’ve run out,” Ino told him with a frown. “How about you take the lilies instead?”

Itachi shook his head. “No. It has to be white carnations.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Remembrance, huh?” Her expression shuttered. “Did… did someone in your family pass away? Is Forehead alright?”

Of course… Itachi recalled. He and Sakura were supposed to be cousins. Ino must think that Sakura might be grieving. His lip quirked. So she did care.

“It isn’t anyone from her side of the family,” Itachi said out loud.

“Ah,” Ino nodded understandingly. “Okay. Sorry for asking.” She shuffled around the counter to look around the shop more thoroughly.

Itachi observed her.

“Sorry,” Ino said apologetically after a moment. “It really looks like there aren’t any white carnations left… but my uncle went out earlier to fetch some. He should be back soon.”

Hm. Itachi considered the pros and cons of going to another flower shop, but finally decided that the presence of Ino in this one was a blessing in disguise, for she already believed wholeheartedly in his fake identity.

“I will wait,” he told her.

Ino smiled. “Good. Sorry. Anyway, it’s a pretty slow day today, so I’ll keep you company.”

Itachi inched away, slightly appalled.

“What?” said Ino. “Would you really prefer for us both to stand around in awkward silence?”

He would.

“Anyway, let’s sit down on that bench over there,” she commanded, pointing to a rustic little bench in the inner part of the shop.

As she guided him there, Itachi looked around, amazed at all the colors and shapes around him. His glasses truly allowed to appreciate the smallest of details.

“So,” Ino prompted once they’d sat down. “What’s with the make-over?”

“I’m… sorry?”

“The glasses.” She rolled her eyes. “Those aren’t too bad. But that thing on your head…”

“What’s wrong with this?” asked Itachi, fingering his makeshift disguise.

“It’s ridiculous,” declared the blonde. “You’re insulting everyone who competed against you in the pageant just by going around looking like that.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize; take that thing off!”

Not knowing what else to do, Itachi reluctantly did.

Once the bandana had been removed and pocketed, Ino nodded, pleased. “Why did you even go to a pageant if you care so little about fashion?” she asked bossily.

Itachi frowned. Why, indeed.

He decided to reply honestly. “I was hoping it would help rekindle your friendship with Sakura.”

Ino stared at him blankly.

“What?”

“Yes. She misses your friendship.”

A momentarily surprise passed through Ino’s face. “But…” The blonde shook her head. “That’s impossible. Forehead rebuked all of my attempts to patch things up.” Her gaze lowered. “Every single one of them.”

That… was the first time Itachi was hearing about it.

“You tried to fix things?” he asked, not understanding.

“At the beginning, yeah…” Ino muttered. “Even toward the end of the year, I offered Forehead my help sincerely. Because… because I caught her sparring with some bratty kids who were teasing her, you know?” Ino’s voice wavered, as though the recollection of some memory had overtaken her.

Itachi, meanwhile, was silent as he mulled over her words. “Sakura declined?” he guessed, confused.

Ino nodded slowly. “She said she didn’t need my help. Like, like I was some… some…” She shook her head.

“That doesn’t sound like Sakura…” Itachi said quietly.

“I’m not lying!” Ino cried. “She just gave me back my ribbon one day and said we were love rivals.”

“I didn’t claim you were lying,” Itachi said. “But I believe there’s something missing.”

Ino sighed. “I don’t know. Why am I even telling you all this? We don’t know each other.”

“Tetsuya,” introduced Itachi, leaving out his surname. “Nice to meet you.”

Ino chuckled, though it sounded sad. “I already knew that.”

Then why did she ask? Itachi’s mind dismissed the question in favor of pondering the Sakura-Ino issue.

“Why did you and Sakura fight?” he blurted.

Ino’s mouth opened. “That’s private, you know.”

“I see.” He looked at her expectantly.

Ino huffed. “Why don’t you just ask her?”

Itachi paused. “She said it was over minutia.”

Next to him, a strange look crossed through the blonde’s face. “Now she says that?” she spat angrily.

Itachi recoiled, a little surprised.

Meanwhile, Ino had started to laugh bitterly. “It was over her precious Sasuke-kun. Hardly minutia, if the way she suddenly stopped being friends with me over him is anything to go by. Six years of friendship – down the drain.” Ino’s voice betrayed how emotional the recollection had made her… Itachi could tell that she wasn’t lying. He didn’t understand anything.

Sakura had destroyed their friendship… over Sasuke? He readily agreed that his little brother was hardly minutia, but…

“No,” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“Are you daft?” Ino exclaimed, tears in her eyes. “I just told you it did!”

Itachi exhaled. “You don’t understand, Ino.”

“Oh?” she said frostily, wiping her eyes.

He carded a hand through his hair. “I think… I think Sakura would like to be your equal. This is why she initiated the rivalry between you.”

“What? But I just told you, we fought over Sasuke, not–”

“When I talked to her,” Itachi cut in, “Sakura appeared very upset to have lost your friendship.”

Ino’s blue eyes widened. “She… she was?”

He nodded solemnly.

“But why did she rebut all of my attempts to patch things up then?” said the blonde. “Why did she antagonize me so much?”

 

Sakura, what did you do?

Itachi exhaled.

“I believe she wanted to prove herself to you,” he said finally.

“But… but why? What does that even mean?” Ino looked at him uncertainly.

“I don’t know why,” Itachi told her. “But I’m positive it’s the truth.”

“I guess… she might have wanted recognition?” Ino ventured. “I don’t know.”

“Only Sakura does,” he agreed. “But what I believe is true is that she wished for you to see her as an equal.”

“We were best friends!” Ino argued. “It doesn’t get more equal than that!”

Itachi remembered Shisui. When they had met for the first time, Shisui had been much more skilled in the ninja arts, and Itachi had felt a strong desire to bridge the gap between them, for his cousin to stop treating him like he was a lot younger. Which he was. But that was besides the point.

“Perhaps,” he settled on.

“Why would Forehead even challenge me over being rivals for Sasuke’s love?” Ino asked. “If it’s as you say, she’d have tried to beat me at taijutsu.”

A few months ago, Itachi would’ve agreed with her in a heartbeat, but now… now he knew that there were other things that mattered to twelve-year-olds more.

“Would you have cared?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“If Sakura had defeated you in a spar, what would your reaction have been?”

Ino paused for a moment, looking off into the distance. “I’d have been… uh, surprised? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter all that much.”

“Precisely,” said Itachi. “Sakura challenged you in the area she perceived you cared the most about.”

“Romance…” Ino stared at him with wide eyes, realization beginning to sink in. “All this time… did she always feel inferior to me? Sakura…”

Just in that moment, the bell chimed as a client walked in. “O-oh, welcome to Yamanaka Flower Arrangements…” Ino said automatically, her expression still distracted.

“It’s me, Ino-chan,” said a man from the door. He was wheeling a cart with various assortments of flowers within, including white carnations.

“I. Uh. That’s my uncle…” Ino told Itachi in a mutter.

She seemed shaken, so Itachi decided to give her space.

Giving her a nod, he stood up from the bench and walked toward the counter… to his surprise, with Ino on his heels.

“I’ll prepare the bouquet, Ojii-san,” Ino told her uncle. The man nodded, retreating to the back of the shop. Meanwhile, the blonde went about picking out the whitest of carnations and carefully arranging them into a beautiful bouquet.

She told him the price, and Itachi put the money on the counter.

“T-tetsuya-san?” Ino said quietly.

“Yes?”

She smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In that moment, but in a different part of the village, Kakashi was busy coordinating things for his test. Or as busy as one can be whilst reading porn. The second stage of the exam would be taking place in two days’ time, and he had a lot to organize. Or rather, a lot of people to bully into organizing it.

“What do you mean, you need twenty jonin proctors?” someone shouted at him. The gathered jonin in the lounge were all staring at Kakashi in abject horror.

“Maaa, in an orderly line, everyone.”

They glared at him.

“You do realize that we’d be doing you a favor, Hatake?”

“Hatake, you wanker!”

“Damn that entitled bastard.”

Meanwhile, Kakashi continued to thumb trough his book. Eventually, the jonin stopped bashing on him.

“So? Any volunteers?” he asked into the silence.

“Oh, come one, Hatake,” drawled Genma from a corner. “I’m in – but only if you either take us to a strip club or invite us to drinks.”

“Sure, after we’re done,” Kakashi acquiesced gamely.

Genma glared. “I know what you’re doing there. The night before.”

“Excuse you?”

“You know the rules, Hatake,” smirked Genma. “Drinks or no deal.”

There was no such rule.

“What betrayal,” Kakashi said dramatically. “I’ll remember this, mark my words.”

Genma flipped him off.

Kakashi slouched, annoyed, turning toward the rest of the room. “So… anyone else?”

The general populace regarded him askance.

“What makes you think I’d do you any favors,” questioned a kunoichi, “after you dumped some woman’s laundry water on me?”

“Uh. You had a bad hair day?”

“You know, Hatake, that’s funny coming from you,” Kotetsu piped up.

“Very funny,” added Izumo. “Also. Quick question: what on earth for do you need twenty jonin proctors?”

“I suppose an experienced chunin might cut it,” Kakashi allowed. His colleagues glared. He added: “or… shadow clones?”

“Nineteen shadow clones is insane unless you’re a chakra factory,” someone argued. “Not to mention the killer headache they’d bring after being dispelled.”

Kakashi hummed. “If four of you make four shadow clones each, adding your real selves, that’d be enough.”

“Four shadow clones can ssstill be a lot depending on their duration,” said Anko from a corner of the room, her eyes narrowed into slits. “How many hours will the exam take?”

“Hm,” mused Kakashi. “Well, I was thinking… half a day or so.”

“Then that would be about six hours per clone,” the jonin from earlier concluded. “If you made four, that’d be a total of twenty-four extra hours being jammed into your brain once it’s finished. That’s a whole day, no kidding.”

Kakashi sighed, annoyed. “I don’t care whether you use clones or not. I need twenty proctors.”

“My eternal rival, I shall gladly aid you in this pinch!” Guy interjected suddenly. How he had remained quiet for so long was a mystery.

“I appreciate it,” said Kakashi. “But unfortunately, your genin will be participating in my test, Guy. I need impartial judges for this.”

“My rival, how could you?!” Konoha’s green beast exclaimed. “I would be professional to a fault! I’d even disguise myself to remain undetected!”

“What, with that fake mustache again?” snickered a chunin. He was referencing one of the worst kept secrets of Konoha, or in other words: the one (and only) time Guy had taken an undercover mission.

As he and the chunin began to debate the pros and cons of cosmetic mustaches, Kakashi sighed. This was going to take a while. But then he was approached by Anko.

“Uhh, Anko,” he greeted awkwardly, remembering all too well how he’d inadvertently snatched the proctor position from her. After promising the opposite. “Uhhh. How’s it going?”

Anko smiled. “Excellently.”

Kakashi stared at her blankly, expecting blows to come raining down on him any second now. Instead, Anko continued to stare at him.

“Uhh… can I help you?”

“On the contrary,” said the woman. “I can help you.”

Kakashi arched a brow. “Prey tell.”

“I could… mind your cute studentsss for six hourss.”

Kakashi blinked. He had completely forgotten about his genin. But Anko was right – someone would have to supervise them. “There’s no need,” he settled on after a moment. “I can just rope Asuma into it.”

Anko continued to stare at him. “I have nothing elsse to do,” she assured him with a guileful smile. “Besides… I do believe I’d make a… cutthroat …sensssei.”

“Right,” said Kakashi. Anko was acting a little strangely – so far she hadn’t said a single insult – but he figured she had a reason to be acting weird. She was mad at him, after all.

Huh. Who would’ve thought that the very woman who made sailors blush on the regular, would, if angered, revert to a puritan speech pattern?

Kakashi considered his options. He had no doubt that Anko would attempt to enact her revenge against him through his students, but on the other hand, the boys were tough cookies. And Sakura could use the experience. Besides, if it meant he’d get out of the brunt of her anger, he was perfectly fine with the arrangement.

“Maaa,” Kakashi drawled. “We meet at training ground nineteen in the mornings.”

Anko smiled gleefully, licking her lip. “Is this permission?”

“Do your worst.”

She cocked her neck at an odd angle.

“Oh, I will.”

And wasn’t that ominous? To be honest, Kakashi felt a little sorry for hanging his students out to dry… but not sorry enough to do anything about it.

“Maa, no broken bones, ne?” he said lightly.

With these parting encouragements and a wave to Anko, he sauntered out of the lounge. It was high time he continued with his recruitment campaign.

 

 

Meanwhile, Itachi and Sakura had arrived at Yuna’s thrift shop in order to borrow the old woman’s spare mattress and assortment of pillows so Sakura could practice flips in her storage room. Predictably, as soon as they had entered the shop, Itachi fixed Yuna with a highly displeased glare. Belatedly, Sakura remembered that he was sore about the whole dropping Goliath from a tree ordeal, but by then it was too late. They were both locked in a staring contest, or rather, a glaring contest, which by the time Sakura had finished setting things up to train, had evolved into an argument about animal care. She sighed with annoyance, yet began to stretch her muscles while she listened to them bicker back and forth over the proper treatment of cats.

“I’m telling yeh, Goliath can take it, boy!”

“No average cat can survive a fifty foot drop,” Itachi insisted.

“The tree was not fifty foot,” sniffed the woman. “’sides, my Goliath is no an average cat!”

“Sakura told me that he was dropped off the hokage tower, that’s fifty foot at least.”

“Hah. So what if he was?”

“This is inadmissible!”

“He got seven lives, he’ll be fine.”

“This is a myth,” Itachi countered.

“What would you know?”

“More than you, evidently.”

“Psh. A pipsqueak like you? Yeh know nothin’ about the ways of the world.”

“I strongly object.”

Sakura, meanwhile, was attempting to contain her urge to punch something. “Will you two please stop?” she exclaimed, aggressively stretching her calf. “I’m here to learn back flips.” Just then, said calf snapped, and Sakura jumped up, howling in pain, then curled into a ball.

Itachi and Yuna stared at her.

Suddenly, Yuna was by her side, patting Sakura’s back, while Itachi coaxed her calf out of hiding.

Whimpering, Sakura let him have a look.

“You have pulled a muscle,” Itachi diagnosed. “But it seems to be a grade one muscle strain. Luckily, this means that, while it may be sore and tender, and there may be slight inflammation, you will not lose any muscle strength.”

“It still hurts,” Sakura muttered miserably.

“Lemme see,” Yuna interrupted brusquely.

Itachi glared at her and pointedly pulled Sakura’s calf further away.

But Yuna was just as quick; her bony hand grasping Sakura’s nee as she pulled right back with surprising strength. Itachi looked like he was going to redouble his efforts, but Sakura had had enough:

“Stop it. It’s painful already, I don’t need a tug of war to make things worse.”

Itachi glared at Yuna again in warning, but he finally relented and moved aside slightly. Yuna shoved him the rest of the way. She proceeded to examine Sakura’s calf.

“Well?” Itachi prompted irritably.

“It is a pulled muscle,” the old woman relented. Sakura could’ve sworn she saw Stalker-san roll his eyes. However, she was distracted by a strange sensation in the chakra located around her leg. It was tingling unpleasantly, and her chakra flow was reacting by splitting around the source of the disturbance unevenly. Sakura tried directing her chakra straight toward it and willing the odd thing away.

“Stop fighting it, girl!” Yuna snapped.

Sakura looked at Itachi for guidance, and was surprised to see his eyes had widened. He was looking at her leg like it had turned blue or something. When Sakura looked back at her leg also, she found that this estimation wasn’t off at all. Because… her leg, or more specifically, her calf, was surrounded in an ungodly light, glowing blue-green in the dingy shop.

“What’s that?” Sakura asked with surprise. It had become apparent that Yuna’s hand was the source of the strange light, so Sakura wasn’t all too worried… but still on her guard.

“That’s medical chakra,” stated Itachi, not taking his gaze away from Yuna. “I presume you’re familiar with med nin, Sakura?”

She nodded numbly. She had red about med nin: they were shinobi which had such amazing chakra-control, as well as knowledge of the human body, that they could coax cells themselves into regeneration, repairing organ failure and worse with nothing but their bare hands. She stared at Yuna in shock.

“How come you can do this, Yuna?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” added Itachi with narrowed eyes.

Yuna’s mouth parted into a toothy – or rather, toothless – smile directed at Itachi. “I told yeh, pipsqueak. You don’t know the ways of the world.” The fact that she did was strongly implied.

“Who are you?” pressed Itachi.

The old woman cackled, removing her steely grip from Sakura’s calf… which no longer hurt at all. “I told yeh, didn’t I? I’m Yuna.” Sakura was staring back and forth as the two began to argue yet again.

“Very helpful,” Itachi said sarcastically.

Sakura sighed. They were about to get into another spat, weren’t they?

“Stay out of my business, pipsqueak, and I’ll stay out of yours,” Yuna sneered.

Itachi glared at her, his eyes so intense that Sakura was worried they’d get all red from the lack of blinking.

Yuna seemed to be thinking the same thing:

“Glare all you want, boy,” she said boldly. “Those eyes of yours ain’t scaring me off.”

Sakura rolled her own eyes at their antics, deciding to continue stretching – carefully this time.

Meanwhile, Itachi was trying and failing to keep it together.

The fact that this… this shopkeeper of all people, knew his secret had him reeling. There was no way her choice of words had been a coincidence!

And yet all Yuna did was continue to glare at him, as though expecting some witty retort. Itachi was lost. She knew who he was. How? And why had she done nothing about it? Yuna, if that even was her real name, had already met him before, likely recognized him, and done absolutely nothing to stop a supposed criminal from strolling about. She hadn’t even informed any of Konoha’s military authorities of his presence, Itachi thought, for in that case the third would’ve warned him. Such was Itachi’s mental turmoil, that he continued to guardedly bore holes into the other woman with his gaze. Finally, she appeared to have had enough. Or perhaps she could sense an impending fight and was choosing to keep Sakura away from it, for she said:

“Come with me, boy. Let’s get more pillows for Sakura-chan.”

Sakura looked at them curiously but continued to stretch.

Itachi, on his part, followed Yuna wordlessly until they were in the main part of the shop again. Silently, Yuna closed the doors and shut the blinds. Itachi checked the storage room door. Shut as well. Just to be safe, he cast the highest-level privacy genjutsu he knew.

“Who are you?” he repeated again.

Yuna assessed him for a moment. “I am a retired shinobi,” she stated brazenly, gesturing around herself, to the dingy shop. “As you can see, I’ve left that life behind.”

Itachi narrowed his eyes. “You’re not from Konoha,” he guessed. Was she a spy? Or was she a fugitive?

“I’m not a spy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“How reassuring.”

Yuna glared at him. “Are you going to attempt to kill me, Uchiha?” she said in a very low voice.

Itachi still jolted at the sound of his name, glancing furtively toward the storage room.

“We’ll see.”

“So that’s a yes,” Yuna concluded. “Let’s make a deal… I’ll show you mine and you don’t show me yours, hm?”

Itachi ignored her and activated his sharingan. Quietly, he asked: “Show me… what?”

Yuna’s hands went to her obi. Without hesitation or squalor, she untied it, revealing chest bindings and a scar. It was large, spanning across her entire stomach and continuing under her pants, and Itachi could see chakra running within. Large, ugly, and very, very painful looking. The woman’s chakra network was an absolute mess of scars and mangled tissue everywhere. The fact that she was alive, never mind had enough chakra control for healing, was a miracle – and rather alarming, all things considered. Itachi felt a battle calm beginning to seep into his pores. He disliked death, but he was prepared to kill her if it came to it. Just who was this?

And then Yuna said: “Here,” and pointed at her rib cage. And Itachi saw.

Vestiges of another kind of chakra; raw, wild, untamed, were swirling over a certain spot in a certain pattern, almost like a seal that had been broken, and without knowing how or why, Itachi just knew. He stared at her, his eyes wide.

“Not so stupid after all, pipsqueak?”

“How… why… who?” Itachi could hardly decide which question to ask first. “How are you alive?”

She smiled; an old, weathered, toothless thing. “Didn’t you just see? I can heal injuries.”

“You used to be a jinchuriki,” he said incredulously, hardly believing it. There was no coming back from a bijuu extraction. And yet the woman was alive. How? HOW?

Yuna grimaced. “That I was.” Her eyes narrowed. “And from the looks of it, my successor is here.”

Itachi’s eyes widened even more, his mind reeling. Her successor? The new jinchuriki? Here? In Konoha?

Then he made the connection:

Chunin exams. Sand. Here.

But most importantly – why?

And then he knew just who was standing before him and almost took a reflexive step back. Rasna of the Shukaku. Rasna of the glowing sand. He couldn't believe she was alive. The kunoichi had been presumed dead for decades.

He settled on: “I see. Thank you for your candidness, Rasna-san.”

The woman’s aura darkened suddenly, and for a moment, Itachi caught a glimpse of the living legend that was standing before him.

“Rasna of the Shukaku is dead,” she stated, her voice gravelly and sharp. “That clear?”

Itachi stared at her for a long time. There were a lot of things he didn’t understand. Why had Rasna revealed herself to him? Did she want Itachi to know who she was? More: how had she recognized him, if she wasn’t even from Konoha? And why had the sand village sent their jinchuriki here?

“Of course,” he said at last. He turned his sharingan off. There was much to mull over. “Shall we head back, Yuna?”

The old woman tied her obi again and went to reopen the blinds of the shop. “Go on ahead, pipsqueak.” With these words, she breezed past him and disappeared into a clothes rack. Itachi was reluctant to leave her out of his sight, but he should indeed go back lest Sakura grow suspicious. Having determined this, he took a moment to notify Karasu to watch Yuna for any suspicious activity and to warn him immediately if she left the shop. Then he turned back toward the storage room.

 

 

 

 

The hokage, meanwhile, was revising Kakashi’s written report about his test. Kakashi himself stood before his desk and was engrossed in his book… though the occasional shuffling of his feet betrayed the jonin’s impatience.

Lowering the report, Hiruzen chuckled. “Well, I have to admit, this is quite original,” he said with bemusement. Actually, that was an understatement. “I’ve never seen a test quite like this one.”

“Aa.”

“Hm. And it does seem as though all of the candidates should be able to pass easily.”

“Provided their brain does its job,” Kakashi allowed.

“So, Kakashi-kun. What do you expect the passing rates to be?”

Kakashi shrugged his already slouching shoulders. “I don’t know, but high. I couldn’t think of anything easier.”

Hiruzen chuckled. Trust the man to call his extremely refined yet misleading test easy. “You know, Kakashi-kun, had I known you’d come up with something quite like this, I’d have had you proctoring a lot sooner. With any luck, your test will bring our merchants some revenue.”

The jonin blinked at him innocently, though Hiruzen had no doubt he had planned every single aspect and consequence of it.

“Actually… that’s just half of it,” drawled Kakashi. “I was planning to give the other half of the candidates the same challenge, but with a different wrapping… so to speak.” He placed another scrawled set of instructions on the desk.

“Kakashi-kun, is this toilet paper?”

“Ah, well. A man has to make do with what he has, you know.”

Hiruzen nearly rolled his eyes, but he chose to read through Kakashi’s scrawled instructions instead. “Hmm,” he said. “Provided the candidates manage to complete this, we’d be getting a lot of work done for free as well.”

“Well, you know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound.”

Hiruzen smirked. “I should’ve known you’d find a way to foist our own work off on the candidates.”

Kakashi shrugged flippantly.

“You know me: always happy to help.” He paused. “I was also hoping you could provide me with a place for this part.”

Hiruzen nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Expect a messenger bird with the pertinent details.”

The jonin returned the nod. “Then I’ll be going.” And without further ado, he moseyed out of the office. As Kakashi was opening the door, Danzo himself appeared on the other side. The two traded glares and then Kakashi was gone, Danzo taking his place before the desk. With a sneer, the elder picked up Kakashi’s previously delivered ‘reports’, wrinkling his nose at the toilet paper, and then threw them back on the desk as though the mere idea of touching the man’s toilet paper was disgusting to him.

“He’s outdone himself,” sneered Danzo.

Clearly it wasn’t meant as a compliment, yet Hiruzen chuckled along merrily anyway. “That he has, that he has. You asked him to be creative, and – well – I dare say he has more than delivered, no?”

Danzo looked absolutely disgusted, but chose not to comment. “So. While your pathetic little lapdog is busy with his inane test, I think it was high time we called our… special guest back for a meeting. Don’t you agree?”

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes. “Guards, leave us.”

The ANBU guards who had preciously been stationed in the premises were all suddenly gathered in the office.

“Hokage-sama.” The leader gave a respectful bow, which was mimicked by the rest of his squad, and, without further ado, they all trudged out of the office with military gait, except for the last one, who sauntered.

Once they were all gone, Hiruzen extended his sensory abilities to make sure no one was in the vicinity (his guards had unmasked their presences) and then turned back toward his fellow councilman.

“Hm. You want to call another meeting, Danzo?” Hiruzen prompted. “You do realize I’ll have to give a speech after the second exam?”

Danzo seemed disinterested in this. “Yes, well you can send a clone if need be. The oaf is finally here, so it’s high time we introduced him to our esteemed guest.”

“The oaf is my student,” interjected Hiruzen coldly. “And I had no intentions of introducing him to our guest.”

“Why?” taunted Danzo. “Do you believe your useless excuse of a ‘student’ would blow his cover?”

No. He did not. The truth was, Hiruzen didn’t want Jiraiya to find out about the truth behind the Uchiha tragedy… and Hiruzen’s part in it.

“I know Jiraiya-kun,” Hiruzen said instead. “He is hotblooded to a fault.”

“You mean red-blooded.”

Hiruzen gave an irritable sigh. Sometimes he thought that Danzo’s only purpose in life was to annoy him into an aneurysm. Patience, he reminded himself.

“As I’m sure you know,” he supplied with annoyance, “what I meant, is that Jiraiya-kun would never agree with our guest’s mission once he found out… or with the injustice we have done to him. No – Jiraiya-kun would demand immediate action to be taken in order to reinstate him.”

“Oh?” sneered Danzo. “Fortunately for us, you are the hokage. Or do you truly have so little authority over your subjects that you can’t even shut them up?”

Hiruzen’s jaw clenched. “Shinobi may be tools, Danzo, but you’d do well to remember that they are human beings first and foremost, and thus entitled to their feelings.”

“Of course,” Danzo scoffed. “How thoughtless of me.”

“Besides for which,” continued Hiruzen through gritted teeth. “Even if I were to clamp a gag order on him, it wouldn’t be the first time Jiraiya-kun has hidden secret messages within his books.”

“Ah.” Danzo’s lip curled with distaste. “And I suppose you read them all to find out?”

“That’s enough!” Hiruzen snapped, standing up so suddenly that his chair toppled to the ground with a loud clack.

The silence was deafening as the two wizened men sized each other up. One could’ve heard a pin drop… which rendered the sound of the window being yanked open all the louder.

“Hokage-sama! Is everything alright?” He turned slightly to find all of his ANBU guards bursting in through the window, save for one who took the door.

With this last arrival, the room darkened. From every which corner, shadows sprung up and began to swirl around the floor, finally settling around the hokage like a protective cloak.

“Don’t worry; nothing has happened.” Hiruzen’s eyes flickered toward the shadows. “And that is quite enough of that, panda. Do retract your jutsu.”

The shadows around him receded, migrating instead to settle around Danzo, moving in slow, dark coils.

The councilman twitched minutely, his face twisting. “But of course,” he sneered, staring ‘panda’ down. “The new addition to the ranks.”

The shadows began to tighten and unfurl into sharper, pointier patterns, as the occupants of the room tensed. Thankfully, panda ignored the provocation. A moment later, the ANBU guard were gone yet again.

 

The hoakge turned back toward Danzo. “So, about what we were discussing?” the councilman prompted.

Hiruzen paused.

“Ah, yes. The meeting.” He deliberated his options, taking a few minutes to make a decision. He wouldn’t lie, however; he was also taking a perverse amount of pleasure in making Danzo wait. “We will rendezvous with our guest whilst Kakashi is busy proctoring,” Hiruzen finally settled on. “But I do not want him to meet Jiraiya-kun directly.”

“Then what?” asked Danzo impatiently. “That’s the entire point of the reunion.”

“We will arrange a partition within the meeting room and instruct our guest to conceal his chakra,” Hiruzen said, his voice authoritative.

Danzo was still for a moment, no doubt scheming something or other. Finally, he appeared to relent. “Consider it done.” Without another word, the elder faced away and made a show of limping toward the door. Once arrived, he turned around. “One more thing: the oaf better not mess this up.”

Hiruzen resisted the urge to throw a kunai at his ugly mug. “He won’t. Now, if you don’t mind,” he said cuttingly, “I have to contact our guest.” With emphasis on the ‘I’ part. Hiruzen glared at Danzo for good measure, seeking to convey his message: he and his Root lackeys better stay away from Itachi or else. His very much annoyed voice and stare-down seemed to do the trick, because, with one last, calculating glance at him, Danzo vacated the office.

And with that, Hiruzen was alone. Finally. He heaved a sigh, picking up his chair and flopping down upon it in a manner that was not very hokage-like. He removed his hat, using it to fan himself on the face. Why was it that conversations with his supposed right-hand man always gave Hiruzen murderous urges? Just when he was finally starting to relax, Kakashi of all people re-entered the room.

Hiruzen froze, hurriedly replacing his hat.

“Ah, afternoon Hokage-sama,” drawled Kakashi. “So sorry to bother you again.”

It was the evening.

“What is it?” asked Hiruzen.

“I just forgot my reports here,” said Kakashi lightly. “Had to double back to retrieve them…”

“Of course,” he replied, handing them over.

“Well, thank you,” Kakashi uttered as he pocketed his toilet paper. “I realized I may need this for later.”

“That’s fine. Though I hadn’t pegged you as the forgetful type, Kakashi-kun,” Hiruzen remarked, his eyes narrowed.

Kakashi chuckled. “Uh, I have selective memory.”

“Right,” the hokage uttered. “Was there anything else?”

Kakashi shook his head, strolling toward the door. Then he stopped. As an afterthought, he threw over his shoulder: “Maa, hokage-sama, would it be alright for me to join your guard sometime again? I’m feeling a little rusty.”

 

And then, without asking, Hiruzen just knew. Kakashi hadn’t returned to retrieve his report at all: the sole purpose of their exchange had been that. Very. Question.

Damn it. Because he somehow knew. About the meeting, about the lax security… It became clear to him that Kakashi had witnessed the whole exchange. And Hiruzen hadn’t sensed a thing. Goddamn. When had Sakumo’s kid gotten so good that not even Hiruzen could sense him? He was getting too old for this.

“What,” he spat.

Kakashi, clearly sensing his mood, inched toward the door. “Uh, I’ll just…”

“You eavesdropped on our conversation!” Hiruzen barked, standing up and toppling his chair yet again. He was desperately trying to recall whether Itachi’s name had been mentioned at any point and coming up blank. Hashirama’s bloody balls–

“Ahh, I was just offering my assistance?” Kakashi uttered innocently.

“Then why was your chakra concealed until you entered this room?” Hiruzen asked sharply, remembering this detail with sudden clarity.

“Um, well,” Kakashi hurried to say, “I kind of saw this world-weary chunin who–”

“Save it.” Hiruzen glared. “Kakashi… how many times must I repeat it… Stay. Out. Of. This.”

“Hokage-sama–”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m assigning an ANBU platoon to you.”

“Uh.”

Kakashi was clearly blindsided, so Hiruzen forged on:

“For your test. You requested proctors, no? Well. You’re getting proctors – and babysitters.”

“That’s not nec–”

“And if I so much as catch wind of you being in a two mile radius of the hokage tower the day after tomorrow, I’m handing you over to Inoichi to dig through your skull at his discretion. Got it?”

Kakashi stared at him, wide-eyed. “You can’t d–”

“Excellent. Now get out.”

Looking absolutely gobsmacked, Kakashi slowly turned and shuffled toward the door. He appeared to be in shock.

Good, thought Hiruzen viciously. Make him sweat for once.

 

 

 

In another part of the village, Sakura was trying and failing to perform a back flip. Itachi had already walked her through the theory, highlighted the muscle groups involved even, yet none of it was helping whatsoever.

“What if I fall on my head?” Sakura uttered. “I’d die instantly.”

“That’s what the pillows are for,” Itachi deadpanned.

Sakura did not seem particularly reassured by this. “Yes, but what if I hit the floor instead?”

“I’ll catch you.”

Sakura looked at him dubiously. “But what if my legs aren’t strong enough?”

Itachi sighed. “You can channel chakra into them, much the same as with your lungs.”

And yet, the genin still stared at the mattress fearfully.

“Sakura, do you want us to stop?” asked Itachi after a moment.

“No, no… I have to master this, damn it.” Grounding herself, Sakura breathed in, as though preparing for pain. “Okay, here I go…!” And yet when she jumped, she barely did anything other than plop down on the pillows.

Itachi sighed yet again. They had been at it for over an hour, with no results. He was sure Sakura would be perfectly capable of performing a back flip if it weren’t for her own fear. He had already tried to cast a genjutsu on her to diminish her reservations, but Sakura had broken out of it instantly.

Itachi figured that if Kakashi were here, he’d come up with some sort of inspirational quote to give Sakura a push. Unfortunately, this was not the case. He tried to channel his inner Kakashi.

“You must be strong, like a kunoichi of the leaf, and look fear in the eye,” he said blankly. Unfortunately, this seemed to only depress Sakura further and she curled in on herself gloomily.

“I’m not strong at all,” she confessed sullenly. “And I’m a scaredy-cat to bat.”

Itachi sighed, crouching next to her. He knew well that words could move mountains more than any jutsu, but his own mastery of motivational speeches was a pipe dream. Even so, Itachi was a firm believer that actions could speak even louder.

“Sakura,” he pulled a soldier pill out of his pocket and held it out to her.

Sakura lifted her head slightly and glanced at him, then at his hand. “What is that?”

Itachi exhaled. “This is a secret pill which increases reflexes and ninja ability.”

Sakura blinked. “Really?”

No.

However, Itachi may not be good at motivating others, but he was a very convincing liar.

“Yes,” he said instead. “With this, you will be able to complete any number of acrobatics without fear.”

Sakura stared at the pill with awe and a little suspicion. “Why have I never heard of such a thing then?”

Itachi tried to come up with something she’d believe.

“They’re a clan secret.”

Hook, line and sinker.

Sakura seemed to immediately buy it. Almost eagerly, she got up, taking the pill from his hand. But then she hesitated, her green eyes meeting his.

“Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your clan or anything…”

Itachi smiled, touched by her concern despite himself. “Do not worry. I have more.”

Sakura smiled hesitantly. “Alright, well…” She put the soldier pill in her mouth, her expression souring immediately. “Gah!” she sputtered. “What even is in this thing?”

Itachi chuckled. “You’re going to have to bite into it for it to work.”

Sakura gaped at him. “Ew, well bottoms up, I guess…” She swallowed the pill, clearly repressing a gagging noise. And then, as a soldier pill is wont to do, Sakura’s chakra began to triple in intensity and quantity. Itachi knew that the effects only lasted for a short while, leaving the user very tired, but Sakura didn’t know, and her expression was amazed. No doubt, she was getting a rush of power right then.

“Amazing!” she cheered, positioning herself for a back flip. “You’re right, Stalker-san. I really do feel like I can do it now!”

Itachi smiled. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

Sakura nodded. “Catch me if I fall?”

He nodded again, and Sakura leapt.

Her resulting back flip was a little sloppy in execution and landing, yet it was undoubtedly a back flip.

“SHANNARO!” Sakura crowed. “I did it! Yes!” She turned toward Itachi, her expression exultant. “Give me five, Stalker-san!” She extended her palm to him as though expecting something. Itachi stared at it dubiously. She wanted five more soldier pills?

Seemingly annoyed at his lack of response, Sakura took his hand, raised it in the air, then hit it with surprising strength. Itachi jolted, cradling his hand as he stared at Sakura with wide eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Don’t sound so alarmed, boy,” said a voice next to him. “That was just high five.” Apparently, Yuna had returned from minding the shop. “It’s how some people celebrate things.”

Itachi frowned. “They hit each others’ hands?” He couldn’t imagine what people would get out of it… after all, a shinobi’s hands were crucial. Why would anyone willingly expose them like that?

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Never mind, pipsqueak. Girl, show me that back flip!”

Itachi frowned, even as Sakura happily complied and he and Yuna both looked on as she demonstrated a back flip a few times, each try with more confidence than the last. And so, the old woman and the missing nin watched together as the genin frolicked about the mattress.

“That’s good progress you’re making, Sakura,” the old woman praised.

“It’s all thanks to this pill St… Tetsuya gave me,” Sakura said with a smile. “It truly works wonders!”

Yuna arched an eyebrow at Itachi, who sighed.

“As a matter of fact, it does not.”

Sakura blinked at him. “What?”

Itachi pulled out his bottle of soldier pills. “These are ordinary soldier pills.”

“What?” Sakura’s eyes widened. “So… so they don’t give me the ability to back flip?”

Yuna chuckled. “Pff! You really told her that, pipsqueak?” She turned toward Sakura. “And you, girl, did you truly believe such an inane story?”

Her comment went ignored, as Sakura was busy gaping in horror at Itachi. “You lied to me!”

Itachi nodded solemnly. “Yes. Now you can perform a back flip.”

“You still lied to me!”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Sakura stomped her foot angrily. “Cha! This is so unfair! I can’t even be mad at you now.”

There was a moment of silence, in which they both watched as Yuna left the room.

“So,” ventured Itachi. “Are you ready to try a back flip without the mattress?”

Sakura’s reaction was instant. “Uh. Maybe later! Let’s just practice other kinds of stunts for now, ne?”

Itachi huffed fondly. “Alright.” She was absolutely stalling, he could tell. “Then let’s start with the palm spin instead.” Sakura gaped at him.

“Wait, now? We’re continuing?”

“Of course. As I was saying: the palm spin. The trick for this one is…”

And so, they spent the rest of the day going over other different kinds of stunts, spins and other useful moves Itachi could think of. Why on earth Sakura kept glancing at him and asking whether he usually trained like this, he had no idea. Repetition was key after all. He made sure to impress this upon Sakura, and, needless to say, by the end of the evening, she was able to perform almost anything within the safety of the mattress. Itachi considered this acceptable, even though she still shied away from risking the stunts over solid ground. They’d get to that soon. Unfortunately, Sakura had argued that she was very tired and that she would be able to do it next day, so Itachi was forced to acquiesce. He would complete his favor to her then.

However, when the next morning came, his optimistic prediction proved to be wrong. Upon Itachi’s insistence, he and Sakura had renewed their efforts on top of the Uchiha lake this time, rather than Sakura’s much preferred option of a mattress and ‘taking it slow’. But Itachi was tired of taking it slow, deciding it was time to test his method… without any results. Much to Itachi’s annoyance, Sakura was still scared about falling and breaking her neck, so, while she managed to perform yesterday's flips on top of the lake, the whole training exercise was generally a very miserable, very soggy experience. This frustrated him to no end, because he was certain that Sakura would have been able to perform all sorts of aerial acrobatics if only she got over her fear. Unfortunately, repeating this to her didn’t seem to be helping things. Sakura refused to channel enough chakra into her legs to jump high enough for them to practice chaining different types of flips together, never mind enough to get her to leap on top of a simple building.

 

By the end of the day, Sakura seemed very much annoyed, though she did assure Itachi that it wasn’t his fault. She was drenched, so were her clothes and hair, she had been the subject of very many observation’s and comments about her inner psyche and how she should rationally overcome fear, and Sakura was sick of it all. Not to mention, she still had to take Kakashi’s hell spawns for a walk on top of all that. Needless to say, she went to bed frustrated and without much to show for her efforts.

 

 

Sakura woke up with a headache, bruised legs and a growling stomach. Lately, she was eating a lot more than what was her usual, but Sakura figured that with all the exercise she’d been doing, she wouldn’t need to go on a diet anytime soon. So she set about making herself breakfast and a quick lunch bento, then getting dressed and brushing her hair until everything was perfect.

“Bye, bye, mom!” she yelled as she left through the door.

It was a cool morning outside, but she bore it with dignity. Sakura was so immersed in mentally going over what she’d practice until Kakashi arrived that when she actually got to the training ground, she had to do a double-take. For Kakashi wasn’t anywhere to be seen (no surprises there, honestly), but rather, in his stead was a woman. A scantily-clad woman with purple hair and senbon for hairpins. Naruto and Sasuke hadn’t arrived yet either, so Sakura quietly approached her, feeling slightly confused. It was only then that she remembered that their sensei was supposed to be proctoring the second phase of the chunin exams.

 

“Why, hello there,” the woman greeted, turning her neck to look at Sakura.

Sakura started. “G-good morning!” She looked into her eyes… murky, unfathomable, black.

“I’m Anko Mitarasssshi,” the woman said, her voice lilting oddly. “And I’ll be taking very good care of your team today.”

“O-of course,” Sakura agreed. “I’m Haruno Sakura.”

“Oh?” Anko smiled, though her eyes didn’t. “Named after our lovely cherry blossomsss, hm?”

Sakura shrugged, her eyes flitting to the sides. “I… guess.”

“The sakura flowers bloom brightly… Yet their life is very ssshort.”

Sakura nodded. “True, but that’s what makes them so special, isn’t it? They are ephemeral.”

Anko’s murky black eyes bore into Sakura’s green ones.

“It is the brightessst of starsss which burn the fasstest.” They were silent, as Anko’s eyes continued to drill holes into Sakura’s own. “Wouldn’t you agree… Ssakura?”

The girl’s lip pursed. “Well, I like sakura trees,” she uttered quietly. “They remind me of graduating from the Academy.”

“Is that sso?” asked Anko slowly. “You must be so proud.”

Sakura nodded. “It was hard work, but I’m stronger for it.”

“Very strong… already – a genin.” Anko smiled. “Why don’t you tell me about your teammatess, Sakura-chan?”

Sakura blinked, looking away again.

“Oh, well, there’s Sasuke-ku… um, Sasuke, and, uh, Naruto.”

Anko’s eyes narrowed, a slow smile stretching across her lips.

“Sassuke, was it? I have heard he hass talent… oh, so much talent.”

“He does,” Sakura agreed. Her feet shuffled away on their own accord.

Just in that moment, a new voice broke through the silence:

“Sakura, who is this?” Sasuke himself was standing by the edge of the training ground, his hands in his pockets as he mustered Anko.

“Oh, this is Anko-san. She’ll be replacing Kaka-sensei for today,” Sakura explained.

The strange smile upon Anko’s lips widened.

“It’s a pleasssure.”

“Hn.” Sasuke glanced at Sakura. His eyes narrowed, but Anko’s gaze was transfixed upon him.

“Sso…” she drawled in an almost hiss. “You are the lassst Uchiha, hmm?”

Glancing back at her without moving his head, Sasuke walked the rest of the way toward them.

“Hn.”

“What’sss wrong, Sasssuke?” Anko queried slowly. “Ssnake got your tongue?”

“What ‘cha talking about, lady! It’s a cat! A cat!” Naruto’s voice interrupted suddenly. The final member of team seven had arrived. “Hey, Sakura-chan, teme. Whazz going on?”

“Kakashi isn’t coming today,” Sasuke supplied. Sakura nodded, her body angled away from Anko.

“Ohh, so you do ssspeak,” Anko remarked, peering at Sasuke with an eerie smile.

“Hey, hey, lady!” Naruto interrupted. “I bet you want to know who I am, huh?”

“There’sss no need to enlighten me, Naruto-kun. I know all about you…”

 

 

 

Whilst all of this was happening, Itachi was on the opposite end of the village, getting ready for his meeting with the hokage. As was Hiruzen himself, Danzo, and the rest of the elders. Even the newly arrived Jiraiya was far away from the hot springs, and thus, team seven’s location. Meanwhile, many of the usually patrolling ANBU had also been conveniently sent away for a few hours. Those few remaining were all stuck trailing Kakashi and aiding him in his test - for he, too, was very much occupied and far away from his team. No one was anywhere close to training ground nineteen.

 

An ANBU, unfortunately, had been assigned to Kakashi exclusively to make sure he wasn’t late to his test. Or left in the middle of it. Needless to say, Kakashi was not happy with this arrangement.

“Ma, ma, panda-kun, do we really have to go now?” he asked lazily.

“Uh-huh,” said the agent in the panda mask. “For the last time, let’s get a move on.”

“Hmmm. Maybe later.”

Whoever had been assigned to him was clearly young and inexperienced, so Kakashi figured he could afford to be difficult and indulge in one of his favorite past-times: the application of the ‘annoyance barometer’. It consisted in sampling an individual’s levels of annoyance from one to ten. In Kakashi’s humble opinion, it was an excellent test of character.

Meanwhile, his test subject in question was clearly losing his patience. “Guess you leave me no choice, Hatake-san,” he said agitatedly. “They warned me you might be difficult. So I’ll have to use my jutsu on you.”

Kakashi flipped a page. “That’s nice.”

It was hard to gauge panda’s annoyance levels with the mask, sadly. But Kakashi thought he was close to popping a vein. Poor fellow.

The ANBU pinned him with a murderous look. “Are you familiar with the phrase ‘light a fire under your ass’?”

“Sorry?”

“Think wind jutsu.”

Kakashi did not appreciate that mental imagery.

“Maa,” he drawled. He really didn't know what else to say.

Meanwhile, the ANBU was losing his patience and fast. “Just so you know:" he announced point blank, "I’m not about to fail this mission because someone decided to read porn instead of doing his job.”

“Too bad.” Kakashi said with a smile. After all, he was so comfortable reading his book, sitting in the terrace of a quaint little cafe and basking in the sun… if the panda kid had a problem with that… well, it wasn’t Kakashi’s, now was it?

“Oh, come on!” exclaimed the poor guy. “Can’t we just go?”

“I would,” Kakashi informed him slowly. “But you see… there’s this lovely lady I’ll be rendezvousing, and I can’t very well stand her up, now can I? That would be so ungentlemanly of me.”

“You? Gentlemanly?” the agent grumbled. “Besides, do I look like I care?”

That was Kakashi’s prerogative.

“Maa, panda-kun, you are rudely depriving me of your facial expressions, so it’s hard to say.”

Panda’s reply was slightly delayed and incredulous: “You are calling me rude for wearing a mask. You.”

“Well, they’re so annoying, you know?”

The unfortunate agent twitched, his nerves appearing rather frayed. “Old people are weird…” he muttered to himself.
But Kakashi’s keen hearing caught it. “Hmm?” he drawled. “What was that, junior?”

They stared each other down for a moment. Panda seemed at a loss of words, so Kakashi decided to change tactics. It was time to pull out a new weapon: the guilt trip.

“But what about my cute students?” he intoned forlornly. “I should visit them, lest they weep longingly for their missing sensei.”

“And what about my mission?” panda huffed. “Sandaime will have my ass if you’re late!”

“Now that’s not my problem, is it.”

The agent was smart enough to know a losing battle when he saw it, limiting to glare at Kakashi for a minute straight. L

Finally, Kakashi decided to take pity on him:

“How about we make a deal?” he offered graciously. “We visit my students and then I go with you. Sounds like a plan, ne?”

“No!” The ANBU scowled, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘one track mind’. “Seriously,” he said tiredly. “Why are you so concerned about those kids?"

Kakashi wasn't. He was just… invested in their continued survival, that's all.

Panda took one look at him and crossed his arms grumpily. "They’re genin. They'll live. It’s not like they’ll be fighting any S-ranked criminals, you know.”

“Don’t say it,” Kakashi cautioned, beginning to walk en route exam. “You’ll jinx them.”

“Look, I get it,” said panda. “But seriously: it's only for six hours. What could happen?”

“Hm, well, as you said…” Kakashi began to tick off his fingers. “My cute students could get traumatized for life by poisonous snakes, the ramen guy could trip and break his wrist, Anko could give Sakura bad wardrobe ideas… and then some, panda-kun. Or worse – your jinx could take and they'll be stuck battling against errant S-ranked criminals.”

The ANBU stared at him. “Um, honest question: do you think your life is a shonen manga?”

“Ma, junior, how innocent of you,” Kakashi drawled. What he didn't say was that sometimes he really did. A very angsty shonen manga.

 

Meanwhile, back with team seven and their very S-ranked criminal substitute teacher…

“Very well then, children…” A slimy tongue licked slick lips. “Let’sss get started, sshall we?”

Notes:

AND THE PLOT THICKENS!
So sorry for that cliffhanger guys... But this chapter is 15k already and I couldn't very well make it even longer, lol. With this, the second exam arc is officially starting! Buckle up, because shit's hitting the fan.
On another note... is it just me, or are people updating less and less lately? That’s so odd, right?
Anyway, tell me what you thought of this chapter, it’s pretty important to set up the plot ;)

Chapter 8: And the Games Begin

Summary:

Recapping: In one part of the village, Kakashi is readying to begin the second stage of the chunnin exams. In another, Itachi is in a meeting with Danzo, Hiruzen and Jiraiya (though Jiraiya can't see him). Finally, at the very outskirts, where no one lingers...
“Very well then, children…” A slimy tongue licked slick lips. “Let’sss get started, sshall we?”

Notes:

Let's get started indeed. Get ready guys, because the action part of this story is officially beginning. Gaara, Shikamaru, Lee and more of the rookie nine will also be making their debut here.
And so... let the games begin!

Sakura stared at Anko as she worried her lip. Something about her… something about this woman rubbed her wrong. Very wrong. And not just something. Everything about her was unsettling. The way she talked, the way she moved, the way she looked at Sasuke.

She was off.

Sakura quickly lowered her gaze when their eyes met.

“So… children,” smirked Anko. “Why don’t we spar?”

Sakura stared at her teammates, alarmed. “Um. We – we were s-supposed to be practicing elemental jutsu…”

“Ah,” said Anko. “Best wait until your sensssei is back for that, ne?”

“We can practice on our own,” Sasuke cut in. Sakura nodded quickly.

Naruto was looking between them and the woman, back and forth, back and forth.

“Hmm… but I can’t help you if I don’t know your skill-set,” Anko coaxed. “I think we should spar… and you should go first, Sasuke-kun.”

She was pushing back. Why? The woman was looking intently at Sasuke, her eyes blackblackblack–

Sakura had to do something.

“But–” she started.

And then those black holes were fixed on her and Sakura froze.

“Yes?” asked Anko.

“N-nothing.”

Anko smirked.

“So then…” she drawled, wiggling her pinky oddly at the field. “After you… Sasssuke-kun.”

Sasuke stared at the training ground, his gaze hooded. And Sakura could tell. He had noticed too.

The woman was off.

Weakly, Sakura grasped his sleeve. Sasuke looked at her.

With her eyes, Sakura pleaded: don’t.

“Sasuke-kun? Are you coming?”

The woman was staring at them, her eyes wide and strange.

She wants him, Sakura knew. Who was this woman? Was she a pedophile? Why did she want Sasuke?

“Oi! Let me go first!” Naruto cut in suddenly. Both Sasuke and Sakura tensed.

“No–” Sasuke said, at the same time where Sakura shook her head.

Anko cocked her head, a slow smile stretching against her lips.

“No?” she repeated.

Wide-eyed, the Uchiha didn’t reply.

And then the woman smiled wide.

“Let’ss play, Naruto-kun.”

Naruto pointed at her. “Whatever, weird lady. You can’t beat me!”

Sakura’s grip on Sasuke’s sleeve intensified.

“Sasuke…” she said quietly. “She’s after you.”

Sasuke didn’t take his eyes off Naruto. “Keep your guard up, Sakura,” was his only reply.

Sakura frowned. “We can’t – we can’t let her get close to you.”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

 

 

 

 

Just then, Kakashi and his glorified babysitter were walking toward the designated test area, one reading, the other trying to peer at the book and failing. Finally, panda seemed to tire of this routine and spoke up:

“Uh, Hatake-san? Can I ask you something?”

“Maa…” said Kakashi. “Just Kakashi, please.”

The name Hatake-san reminded him too much of his late father… something he’d rather put out of his mind. He knew he’d get used to it if he heard it often enough, but Kakashi was a procrastinator at heart, and he’d rather postpone being called Hatake-san until his funeral day.

“Kakashi,” amended panda. “Why are we going in the opposite direction of the large training grounds? You’re not trying to pull a fast one, are you?”

 

“Such accusations,” mourned the jonin. “No. That’s not where I’ll be testing those unfortunate souls.” Kakashi paused, remembering something. “And by the way, junior? If you want to come with me to the test, the mask has to go.”

“I don’t mind,” said Panda, shrugging.

Kakashi’s brows lifted without his consent. That had been… surprisingly easy. Most ANBU were justifiably wary of unmasking, even if the situation called for it. But as a new initiate, Panda’s behavior made more sense. Without further prompting, he unmasked, and Kakashi examined his features.

To be fair, the agent was fairly young for an ANBU. A bit too young maybe – sixteen or so. But then again, Kakashi wasn’t one to talk, as he’d joined the corps when he was fourteen, something which brought on thoughts of a former teammate who had joined even sooner… at the tender age of eleven. He forced the recollection off his mind – it wouldn’t do to dwell on such a farce.

“What? My face that interesting?” Panda asked dryly.

“Nah, just average.”

Panda’s eyebrow gave a satisfying twitch, and his lips pursed. Without the mask, he was so delightfully easy to read. Despite his words, Kakashi’s curiosity was piqued regardless. From the meeting he’d spied on, he knew that Panda was capable of shadow manipulation… and yet he looked nothing like a Nara at all; with tanned skin, blue eyes and most notably a buzz cut. Hmm. There was a story there, Kakashi could tell.

“So what’s your name, junior?” he asked, hoping for a surname.

“Akiha.”

“Maa. That’s like Akira from Icha Icha.”

And there went the eyebrow. “It’s Akiha! Goddamn!”

“No surname?”

The teen shrugged and didn’t answer.

“You know,” Kakashi told him. “That attitude is pretty cagey.”

Akiha rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and looked away. Definitely cagey.

“Akiha Nara, I guess.”

“You guess?” Kakashi repeated in a deadpan. “You know, you’re a bit odd for a Nara.”

Akiha scowled. “And what’s the problem with that?”

“Nothing. Just making an observation.”

The teen glared at him heatedly, and Kakashi once again marveled at his ability to move just one eyebrow. Either way, he decided that the Nara’s backstory wasn’t any of his business and resumed reading. It was in such a fashion that the two continued to walk until they made it to the red bridge, team seven’s usual meeting point, which Kakashi had selected simply because it was closest to his flat.

“Wha…?” said Akiha. “You told the candidates to come here?”

Kakashi ignored him and continued to read his Icha Icha, as though all of the fourty-odd already present kids staring at him weren’t, in fact, staring at him.

“Quick question, Ha– Kakashi,” Akiha muttered as they approached. “How are you planning to fit twenty more guys on top of that small ass bridge, exactly?”

“Hm?” Kakashi passed a page of his book. Then he glanced up and examined the already waiting candidates a little more closely. All told, they appeared rather miserable.

“Maaa. You guys look a bit cramped up there.”

“No kidding,” Akiha muttered.

The candidates gawked.

In spite of this, none of them were prepared for the huge, tsunami-like wave that threw the lot of them into the river, courtesy of a mist ninja Kakashi had copied it from. The lucky few who had seen the tidal wave jutsu coming proved to be smart enough to follow suit and relocate to the Naka river. Good kids.

Kakashi approved.

Looking at this last group more closely, he noted with some interest that a red-haired chibi was leaking unreasonable amounts of killing intent at him. On her part, Yamanaka Ino was shrieking something about her ruined up-do, whilst the Inuzuka’s pup splattered water over a sand groupie’s face. Guy’s team was doing a very good job of pretending to be useless.

More: Kakashi observed that only a few of the candidates could walk on top of the water (Sakura-chan was sorely missed), namely: the chibi and his sand groupies, some mummy guy, and, surprisingly, all three of Kurenai’s students. The rest of the genin were stuck swimming.

Oh, well. It was hot. They could deal. Shikamaru even looked blissful playing dead on the water. Really, Kakashi mused, he had done them all a favor.

 

“What the hell?” someone shouted loudly. Kakashi momentarily peered up and found the sand-groupie girl glaring daggers at him. “What is the meaning of this!” she demanded.

He waved at her cheerily and then returned to his novel.

Next to him, Akiha was staring at him with raised brows. “Please tell me you aren’t winging this,” he begged faintly.

By way of reply, Kakashi wordlessly handed him his toilet paper. The Nara’s resulting gobsmacked was more than worth it. Ah, the small pleasures in life.

In the next few minutes, the last chunin hopefuls trickled in. It was hilarious how some of them jumped into the water without any prompting – Kakashi could appreciate mindless followers, he really could – but what was even more hilarious was how, those few who didn’t, promptly got thrown over the railing by suspicious gusts of wind. Hmm. What was funny was that it wasn’t Kakashi’s doing at all.

 

 

Finally, he counted sixty.

“Ja…” he greeted lazily, raising his voice. “Looks like we’re all here.”

Down bellow, genin of all sizes and colors began to mutter excitedly to each other.

“Oh. My. God. Guys, that’s the freaking copy-nin…”

“I got some juicy info on him in my ninja cards, see?”

“Gosh, that dumb Hatake! He ruined my hair!”

“Woof, woof!”

“Do you see him? He’s right there! Guy-sensei’s eternal rival! Right there!”

“…my potato chips are ruined.”

“RIGHT THERE!”

“Yes, yes, we see him, Lee.”

“Get that mutt off my fan, dog-boy!”

“What a drag…”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Akamaru felt like taking a leak!”

Kakashi sighed. If they didn’t know how to be quiet, they weren’t chunin material to begin with. So he continued to read.

Next to him, Akiha rolled his eyes. “You planning to debrief them any time soon?”

Kakashi made a vague noise of assent.

“Oi! You!” the same sand groupie from earlier shouted a few minutes later. “Are we getting on with the exam, or what?”

“Sure, sure,” Kakashi said, lazily climbing on top of the railing and therefore drawing the attention of every single applicant within the river. An expectant silence extended upon the audience, until finally every single genin was eagerly awaiting his incoming speech.

“…Yo.”

There was a prolonged silence in which everyone continued to stare. And stare.

Next to him, Akiha resisted the urge to bang his head against the bridge railing. When it became apparent that Kakashi wouldn’t say anything, he ventured: “Umm, don’t mind him, haha. He has… first day jitters.” His remark was met with absolute silence, broken only when Kakashi ‘accidentally’ elbowed him over railing. This was followed by some raucous applause and a pregnant pause.

“Now what?” asked the mummy guy after a moment. “Are you just gonna stand there all day, copy-nin?”

“Maa.” Kakashi gave a long suffering sigh and made a handsign. Must he do everything?

Silence again.

Akiha, who was now standing upside down on the bridge, sighed and pinched his nose. “What he means is look at your forehead.”

More silence.

“What?” came Ino’s lone shriek all of a sudden. She had discovered a sizable letter B plastered over her forehead. Likewise, the rest of the candidates promptly burst into turmoil. Some had numbers 1 or 2, others an A or a B.

Kakashi glanced toward the rioting children down below. How none of them had noticed his genjutsu and still expected to become chunin he didn’t know. Then again, maybe some had picked up on it… but the majority were lost cases.

It took fifteen minutes for them to quieten again. Once again, they looked Kakashi expectantly.

“Well…” he said. “That’s it.” He waved. And then he poofed out of existence.

 

This untimely departure was followed by a bout of even more shocked staring, and then chaos. In less than a minute, the Naka river had descended into anarchy, as genin everywhere yelled at one another and/or cursed Kakashi’s ancestors.

Akiha, meanwhile, looked on in horror at the mess he’d been left with. It slowly dawned on him that Kakashi wasn’t coming back… and it was up to him to fix this. Hesitantly, he pulled out the toilet paper. He could’ve sworn it looked vaguely like a mission report earlier, so he stared at it in hopes of finding enlightenment. He did not find enlightenment, but rather a horrible chicken scratch handwriting and coffee stains. But if Kakashi had given this to him… he must’ve done so for a reason. And so, Akiha desperately braved the toilet paper and squinted at the first sentence. Miraculously, after two long minutes of mentally running through the alphabet, he deciphered it. Thank god. There were instructions on there. Feeling slightly faint, he jumped upon the bridge.

“Listen up!” he exclaimed, waving his hands around in hopes of catching the genin’s attention. No one was listening. “Oi!” Akiha shouted. Still no one was listening. If he’d kept the ANBU mask, then they’d be standing to attention, he thought dejectedly. But as it was, a short teen with a bald head wasn’t very respect-inspiring. Akiha scowled, staring at the flailing genin in despair. He did not regret cutting his hair, but now he kind of wished he had a wig. The only one who was looking at him was Shikamaru, and he was palpably still mad at him. Averting his gaze, Akiha looked around, mourning his mask and wig. And a megaphone.

Well, he decided at last, if the genin weren’t going to listen, he’d have to make them. Taking a page from Kakashi’s book, Akiha trapped the kids in a genjutsu. Once they were all snugly within the illusion, he mentally screamed: “Listen up, midgets! If you have a number, get your ass to the hokage tower asap. If you got a letter, then the hospital rooftop. Hurry up!”

Incredulous staring. Just standing around and staring.

What were they, gracing sheep? Akiha scowled. At least they’d shut up. “Get a move on, morons!” he shouted. Then, he sarcastically muttered: “God forbid you’re late.”

And without waiting around for another second, he turned tail and chased after Kakashi.

 

 

Ino stared after the bald kid incredulously.

“What the hell is wrong with Hatake?” she complained.

Shikamaru shrugged. Lots of things, clearly. “This is such a drag,” he settled on instead. “What do I even have?” He rubbed the imprint on his forehead with some annoyance.

“You’re number one,” said Ino “And I have the letter B.” Shikamaru finally understood the use of her ever-present pocket mirror.

“What about me?” asked Choji.

The Nara peered at his best friend. Then he sighed. “You’ve got an A… which means none of us are on the same team.” He frowned. “Looks like Sakura was wrong, after all.”

Ino narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean by that? What does Forehead have to do with anything? And since when do you call her Sakura?”

Shikamaru scoffed. “That’s her name isn’t it, you troublesome woman. And I asked her about her teacher, seeing as you weren’t about to get down from your pedestal.”

“Excuse you?” Ino crowed. “I could’ve done it, you… ugh! It was the perfect chance to make up with her!”

“I thought you guys hated each other,” said Choji between a mouthful of soggy chips.

Ino rolled her eyes. “Not really… We went to a beauty pageant the other day and… hey, don’t tune me out!”

Shikamaru sighed. “Yes, yes, beauty thing.”

“We went to a beauty pageant and it made me realize that I miss our friendship more than I want Sasuke…” Ino said. Then she blushed. “And also… I kindamaybehaveacrushonhercousin.”

Choji blinked dumbly. “Come again?”

“Fine!” Ino exclaimed. “I said I have a crush on her cousin! Happy?”

Shikamaru honestly didn’t care. Girls. He rolled his eyes.

And who even was Sakura’s cousin? A civilian?

“So you want to make up with Sakura so you can smooch her cousin?” Choji summarized.

“Aghh!” Ino blushed even more. “Shut up, it’s not like that! People are gonna hear you!”

She huffed, trying to will her blush away. Boys.

“Aren’t you the one who’s shouting?” interjected Shikamaru.

Ino ignored him. “Shut up, Shika,” she said instead. “What did Forehead even say?”

“Ugh,” Shikamaru grumbled. “It’s pointless now, since she told me we’d need teamwork to pass, and yet we have been split up.”

“Hmp. That’s what you get for going off on your own to visit Sakura.” Ino looked around surreptitiously. “If I had questioned her, she’d have told me more.”

“Or she would’ve shouted at you,” said Shikamaru.

“Hmp. Believe what you want. Anyway… that other guy who was next to Kakashi… Shika, – isn’t that your cousin…?”

Shikamaru didn’t reply, and Choji subtly shook his head no at Ino.

“Fine,” Ino bit out. “Be that way!”

Choji sighed loudly. “Guys. We’re getting sidetracked here. The test, remember? We were supposed to hurry.”

Crap.

Both Ino and Shikamaru looked at him with alarmed expressions.

“Shit!” Ino cursed. “Choji. What are you waiting around for? We have to hurry toward the hospital.” With these words, she stormed off.

“Uh, yeah…” said Choji. “Anyway.” He clapped Shikamaru on the back. “See you after?”

Shikamaru grumbled intelligibly, to which Choji simply rolled his eyes fondly. “Good luck, Shika!” Having said this, the Akimichi took off at a jog towards Ino.

 

Shikamaru, meanwhile, rubbed his eyes tiredly. Team ten was a unit. Without each other, they would amount to nothing. What a drag. How was he supposed to pass this stupid test now? He didn’t even know what it was, but judging by Sakura’s description of Kakashi, he already had a bad feeling.

 

It was lucky that he had picked up tree-walking a few days ago, because otherwise he wouldn’t have made it to the top of the hokage mountain on time. As it was, when he got there, Kakashi had already begun to explain their task.

What an absolute drag. Shikamaru jogged toward the small crowd gathered around the jonin and Akiha.

“–find whatever is written on the paper,” Kakashi was just saying. “If you manage to bring it back in six hours, then you get a point.”

“Wait!” the creepy girl from Oto cut in. “What if someone else takes whatever we have to find first?”

“Ah, well. That’s hardly my problem.” Kakashi chuckled. “In fact… someone from the opposite team as yours will have to look for the exact same object as you do. It doesn’t matter who gets to it first… only who brings it back here in six hours’ time.”

Shikamaru frowned. So. A treasure hunt, huh?

But what was the catch?

“You said there’s a point system,” he spoke up. “We get one point if we bring our designated object here… what happens if we bring more?”

Kakashi gave him an eye-crinkle. “Good catch. You can bring someone else’s designated object and get an additional point – two if they’re from the opposite team – as long as you bring their slip of paper as well, signaling what their object is.”

“And?” the girl from sand cut in. “That’s all well and good, but how do we know whether we have enough points to pass?”

Kakashi chuckled. “Simple. You don’t. At the end of the exercise, I will calculate the arithmetical average between the person with most points and the one with the least points within each team. Whoever is bellow their team’s average fails.” He crinkled his eyes at them. “The rest of you will pass.”

Shikamaru suppressed a scowl. That left so many unknown variables. How was he supposed to know how many points he even needed? He glanced towards the rest of his group and wasn’t at all surprised by his bad luck. It just figured that he would be stuck without anyone he knew, and instead get all of the bitchier powerhouses from the other villages.

Great.

Shikamaru eyed the members of group one critically. He could see one of the sound guys, Zaku or something, and the intimidating blonde from the sand village. So far, the only person he even remotely recognized was that one girl who had been one year above him in the Academy… Ten? Either way, he knew immediately that he was in for a bumpy ride.

And the members of the other group weren’t helping matters either: he could see Kiba and his dog, clearly those two would have a huge advantage in terms of tracking, as well as the scary-looking redhead from Suna whom he’d immediately had a bad feeling about. There was also the sound girl and another guy from sound… Yoroi or something like that.

“Maaa, if there are no more questions,” Kakashi instructed, “then split up by teams.” Once this was done, he chugged a plastic bag with a number two scrawled upon it in cheap, black marker at the sound girl, then threw Shikamaru another bag with a barely legible one, hitting him in the face.

“Time to draw from the hat,” Kakashi announced cheerfully. Retrieving it from his face gingerly, Shikamaru eyed the cheap plastic bag and rolled his eyes. He was supposed to pass it around to his team, right?

What a drag.

Without thinking much, he shuffled to the side, to which the supposed members of group one followed. He barely had time to retrieve a scrap of paper from within the bag when the sand kunoichi was already yanking it of his hands. Rude.

Shikamaru turned away and carefully eyed what he had drawn. It was a carelessly-cut piece of paper. Keeping it safe would be another test entirely, he knew. If someone attacked him with a fire jutsu or even a wind or water one, he’d be in trouble.

Gingerly unfolding the little note, Shikamaru was appalled by the horrible scrawl that greeted him.

Burgundy cucumbers.

He squinted at it. He must’ve read wrong. But as much as he strained to read the horrible chicken scratch, the handwriting didn’t change. Well damn.

Burgundy cucumbers.

Shikamaru looked around and found the rest of the candidates with equally pinched expressions on their faces. At least he wasn’t alone in this insanity.

Unexpectedly, sudden footsteps – and many of them – came pounding against the ground and closing in on them up the hill, until about twenty people had arrived. Shikamaru realized that these must be the genin candidates who couldn’t tree-walk and had been forced to run up the entire mountain rather than take the shortcut through the stone-faces.

“So-sorry we’re late!” panted one applicant.

“Hm?” asked Kakashi with disinterest. “I’m sure the members of your group can fill you in.”

“B-but…” the newly-arrived genin glanced around uncertainly. Shikamaru could sympathize. There was no way anyone would be telling them what the test was about.

There were fifteen applicants per group, but until then, only four of each group had heard the instructions. That meant that over half of the competition was out of the running already.

“Oi,” someone spoke up suddenly. “Copy-nin.” The voice was gravelly and should’ve had no place belonging to a twelve-year old. Upon turning around, Shikamaru placed the sand redhead as the speaker.

“Rude,” remarked Kakashi. “What do you want, chibi?”

“It’s Gaara. Of the desert.” The redhead’s chilling eyes narrowed. “Tell me, copy-nin… why do I have to find something that doesn’t exist?”

Kakashi hummed. “It does exist, chibi. But there’s only one of each object… and a proctor guarding it.”

Gaara’s eyes narrowed, lifting his slip of paper ominously. From his vantage point, Shikamaru froze. “And where am I supposed to look for… burgundy cucumbers?” Gaara rasped threateningly.

Meanwhile, Shikamaru was cursing all deities out there for pitting him against that particular psychopath of all people. He had no idea what the redhead’s skills were (besides for forming creepy eyeballs out of… earth?) but Shikamaru was quite aware that he was bad news.

“Mmmm…” said Kakashi. “Not to judge, chibi-kun, but shouldn’t you keep the ingredient you’re looking for a secret?”

Gaara glared. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Tch,” someone else spat. It was the sound guy, Zaku. “You too, huh, Gaara?” He then glared at Kakashi. “Who do you think we are, copy-nin? I’m not here to get your fucking groceries.”

“Hm? But no one is forcing you to do anything, see?” Kakashi replied with an eye-crinkle smile. “Besides, the groceries are mostly for my dogs.”

Silence.

Shikamaru facepalmed. Well, Sakura had been right about one thing. Hatake Kakashi was clearly enjoying to yank on the guy’s chain. Zaku looked like he was about to implode.

“Are you alright?” Kakashi questioned. “Your face is getting a little red.”

Zaku had indeed acquired a tomato-like complexion. “Fuck you!” he yelled.

“I’d rather not,” commented Kakashi.

The crowd looked back and forth incredulously.

“Oi, copy-nin,” the blonde sand kunoichi suddenly spoke up.

“Hmm?”

“When you say there will be proctors, what exactly do you mean?” she asked sharply. “How do you expect us to track them down?”

That was a good question.

Kakashi smiled. “Well… where do you usually go grocery shopping?”

The blonde stared at him her mouth opening and closing. “U-uh… the market?”

“Bingo.” Kakashi turned to give the crowd at large a piece sign. He stood straighter, until he had everyone’s attention. “Now that we’re all here: one word of advice… Each of your ingredients will cost one ryo.” Kakashi surveyed them all, narrowing his eyes. “But make no mistake, guys… should you steal – you’re out.”

“Why would we steal anything when the cost is one ryo?” Kiba asked brazenly.

Kakashi smiled. “Because the proctors have instructions not to sell anything to you.”

“But then…!”

“Best get creative,” he chirped. “Happy hunting!”

And with these cheerful words, the infamous copy-nin and resident troll disappeared in a whirlwind of leaves.

Calling this a drag would be an understatement.

Next to the spot Kakashi had disappeared from, the previously silent Akiha rolled his eyes. “What the drama queen means is… get a move on, squirts. And best not steal.” Having said this, he then sunshined away as well, though less glamorously than Kakashi.

The genin exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Suddenly, someone screamed: “HAAA!”

A huge gust of wind then whirled toward them at dangerous speeds. It was completely unexpected, throwing many of the genin right off the hokage mountain. Most of them were holding onto the rock faces for dear life or screaming and running for cover. Shikamaru, on his part, had been one of the few who had managed to avoid the miniature hurricane in time. He glanced around. Who had…?

Never mind.

There, standing exactly where Kakashi had disappeared, was the sand kunoichi. She was holding a gigantic fan in her hand that left no questions as to who had just literally blown away the competition. Making use of this distraction, the sand kunoichi hijacked team one’s plastic bag and took off running.

Shikamaru could’ve facepalmed.

Fantastic.

At least now he knew what the metallic thing she carried was: one scary behemoth of a fan. And thanks to Shikamaru’s oversight, now the blonde was incredibly ahead. Crap. She was bound to have at least nine of the fifteen paper scraps… which would up the average number of points required to pass by a lot. Damn.

“W-wait!” the unlucky members of team one without a scrap of paper shouted at her. “Hey! Blondie!” They may not know the rules of the test, but it wouldn’t take a genius to realize that the Suna kunoichi was sabotaging them. Poor guys.

Shikamaru, on his part, used the last few seconds of chaos to conceal himself in a corner and memorize who belonged to each team. He had not missed that, with Kakashi’s departure, his genjutsu had been dispelled as well. Meaning, distinguishing between each team would be hard. Information was the most valuable currency out there, and he needed to know who was from team two; their slips of paper would get him more points. He also spared a glance toward the precipice half the competition had fallen down. It was only starting to register now that that was a kilometer long drop. Holly shit. Had the sand kunoichi just killed over fifteen people? He wasn’t about to go to the edge and check lest someone push him down, but Shikamaru really hoped that those who’d fallen were alright. Hopefully Kakashi had some kind of security measure in place. Though knowing the man, he probably didn’t. Damn it.

 

 

 

 

Sakura stared at the bruised and battered Naruto lying on the ground.

Only Sasuke and her were left.

The eerie woman had crouched next to the unconscious blonde. “Hm, a training misssshap…” she whispered. “I sssuppose he musst have chakra exhausstion.”

 

No, she was lying, thought Sakura.

Naruto never had chakra exhaustion. Never. She knew because of Wave. And he had passed out suddenly…

Was it just her, or had the woman lifted his jacket right before he’d fainted? Had Sakura’s eyes betrayed her, or had the woman truly pawed at Naruto’s stomach right then? The angle had been off, but Sakura had been using her hand mirror to monitor the fight…

She could feel her own stomach sink with horror. She had to accept it. The woman had touched Naruto’s stomach, had done something… something perverted, and then he’d blacked out.

 

There was no doubt about it: she was a pedophile who wanted to… to do things to her teammates! Sakura shivered, terrified beyond belief. Where was everyone who could help? Why wasn’t Kakashi here? Or at least a clone? Where was Shi-chan? Stalker-san?

If they were here, they wouldn’t allow Anko to touch Sasuke next.

But they were away. Sakura was alone in this. She didn’t know whether Sasuke had realized the gravity of their situation, she didn’t know whether the woman knew Sakura was onto her, but what she did know was that she, Sakura, well… she – she was a girl. That meant she was a little safer, right? It meant Anko wouldn’t leer at her like she did at Sasuke and Naruto. But it also meant one thing: now that Naruto was out of commission, it was Sakura’s turn to face the pedophile.

She had to. For Sasuke-kun.

That didn’t make the thought any easier to stomach.

Sakura closed her eyes, wishing she could just open them and wake up in her bed. She knew what she had to do. She had to waste time until Kakashi’s dumb test was over or someone came. Trying to run, she could tell, would be futile.

“Well… Sasssuke?” the woman said slowly. “I believe it isss your turn now, hm?”

Sakura felt goosebumps raise violently under her skin.

But she had to do this. She had to. She had to. She had to.

“No…”

No one looked at her.

Come on, Sakura!

“No,” she stated again, louder this time.

The woman leered at her. “Oh?”

“I… I’ll spar with you,” Sakura told her, her tone an attempt at fiercness.

“Sakura, no,” Sasuke contradicted. “I will–”

“Stay where you are,” Sakura snapped. “Sasuke-kun… Sasuke. I’ll be fine.”

She had to be. After all, she – she was a girl.

“Alright then,” drawled the woman, ominous mirth in her eyes. “I suppose I can leave you for dessert, hmm, Sasuke?”

Sakura shivered violently.

“Now, cherry blossom…” Anko said, beckoning her with a ‘come hither’ motion. “Let’ss see how starkly you bloom. And how quickly you burn.”

Biting her lip, Sakura approached, slowly, hesitantly. She had seen what Naruto’s fight had looked like. She knew she didn’t stand a chance…

Shit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes after the debriefing saw Shikamaru hurriedly entering the market district. As he walked, the Nara considered his options. He could try to find the burgundy cucumbers, but only if he was sure Gaara wasn’t in the vicinity. He didn’t fancy getting into a fight with an enemy he knew nothing about. Then there was the sand kunoichi. Shikamaru at least knew her main skill… but the fact that she could easily brandish her behemoth of a fan and chug twenty odd people off a cliff without feeling any remorse wasn’t very encouraging either.

The Nara sighed, lamenting his troublesome situation. He could also try to take paper scraps from the only other genin who even had a paper, but he didn’t fancy fighting the cocky sound nin either, and the Ten-something girl had a whole year of experience over him. Besides, Shikamaru didn’t like to fight women if he could help it.

So who was left? From what he had seen, Gaara had copied the suna kunoichi in strategy and had taken off with his team’s bag as well. The only candidates from group two who had gotten a piece of paper had been Kiba, the sound girl and the Yoroi guy.

Kiba was out because he and his dog would be two against one, and he could outlast Shikamaru easily. And the two sound nin were both creepy… something about them was definitely fishy, Shikamaru’s gut told him. So what now?

He sighed, entering a stationery shop.

“Can I help you, young man?” asked the shopkeeper.

Shikamaru nodded. “Do you have anything water proof I can wrap this in?” he retrieved his scrap of paper, placing it on the counter.

The shopkeeper nodded and even offered to do it for him, throwing a pointed glance at the written burgundy cucumbers.

“May I ask what this is for?” he questioned as Shikamaru was paying.

“It’s too troublesome to recount…” the Nara replied, scratching his cheek.

Wait. Shikamaru suddenly realized something essential. This was one of Konoha’s only stationery shops, providing materials for the Academy. The next one was a few kilometers away… he smirked to himself.

“Uh, do you mind if I buy all of your waterproof wrappers?”

The man blinked at him owlishly. “These are the last two rolls.”

“I’ll take them.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Kakashi and Akiha had already made it to the hospital rooftop, which was further away.

Copious clotheslines had been arranged upon the rooftop and were fluttering calmly in the breeze.

The ANBU, Akiha, eyed them curiously. He had never seen so many sheets in a single space. An astounding amount of them had been placed upon the clotheslines… and they looked suspiciously dirty, for having supposedly been washed. What was even more curious about this arrangement was that half of the sheets were green while the other half white, and they had been sorted by color, partitioned at the exact middle. When he counted exactly thirty of them total, fifteen of each color, Akiha began to suspect something.

“Don’t tell me you’re making those poor brats do laundry?” he asked flatly.

Kakashi continued to peruse his book, but his non-reply said it all.

“Oi.”

“Maa. You guessed it.”

Akiha stared at him with horror.

“Madara’s pointy nose,” he muttered. “Those poor sods. What are you even testing them for? How to play house?”

Madara’s pointy nose? That was a good one. Kakashi took note for further reference.

“Sigh…” he said blandly. “Look underneath the underneath more, junior.”

“Did you just say ‘sigh’?” Akiha asked incredulously. “The rumors are true. You’re completely off your rocker.”

“It’s called genius.”

“I think you meant delusion.”

Kakashi fought to conceal his annoyance. Since he’d left the poor agent alone at the bridge, the teen had lost all respect for him and was making a point to be as annoying as possible in revenge. This, in turn, did not suit Kakashi at all, who found he disliked the taste of his own medicine quite a lot. He had never been a fan of hospitals, really. So, after a moment of consideration, he decided to tackle the matter head on:

“Maaa… show some respect to your elders, panda-kun.”

It was worth a shot.

“I supposed you’re right,” Akiha told him after a moment. “About the elder part.”

“Excuse you?” Kakashi said with affront. “I’m in my prime.”

“Dude. Your hair begs to differ.”

“At least I have hair.” Then he looked pointedly at Akiha… and the reaction was instantaneous. Yes, Kakashi thought gleefully, watching as the ANBU self-consciously touched his scalp. Victory at last.

“Hey! That’s a low blow,” the teen complained, trying to regain his professionalism. “Besides, this is a buzz cut. I’ve got stubble, look!”

Kakashi eyed his bald head. “Right.”

“I’m serious!” Akiha exclaimed. “Besides, this haircut has advantages.”

“That’s nice.”

“Hmp,” the ANBU muttered hotly. “You don’t even know how heavenly it feels like when it rains on your head, do you, old man?”

Couldn’t he go back to admiringly calling him Hatake-san? Kakashi was already mourning the title.

“I must be really missing out,” he replied blandly.

Akiha took him at face-value, nodding sagely. Then he went into a tangent about the advantages of being hairless which Kakashi tuned out. This must be the hokage’s punishment, he thought mournfully. Couldn’t he have roped someone else into putting up with this guy? Like Anko. Anko would be great. Which prompted the thought of how his genin were fairing…

“So…” he interrupted the rant. “How about you go babysit my kids, panda-kun, and leave me here all by my lonesome? Sounds like fun, right?”

“Nice try.”

Kakashi sighed.

 

 

 

Just then, the first candidates began to show up. Mini Guy arrived first and with a mini dynamic entrance, followed by the Hyuga kid, the other Hyuga kid, mummy guy, some wanker who kept pushing up his glasses, and the sand groupie who dressed like a cat.

All of them had sensibly climbed up the building with chakra… though a minute later, Yamanaka Ino broke the trend by going in through the door. She had apparently wheedled a nurse into lending her and her teammate the keys to the rooftop. Kakashi glanced around. Counting eight people, like before, he decided it was time to start.

 

 

“You.” He gestured vaguely a team A. “You guys get the white sheets.” They all stared at him blankly. “Team B, you get blue.”

“It’s teal!” Ino cut in.

Kakashi ignored her. “Each of you start with one sheet. Your job is to clean it.”

“Excuse me!” Mini Guy cut in. “Do we get extra points if we use fabric softener?”

“Erm…” Kakashi was stunned into silence for a moment. “Just clean it.”

“Yosh! I will apply the power of youth to this task!”

“Shut up, weirdo,” the cat groupie cut in. He really did look like he was going to a parade, mused Kakashi.

“Copycat!” he exclaimed, pointing at Kakashi. “What do you mean we have to clean? How do we even do that?”

Kakashi smiled. “You didn’t let me finish yet, kitty cat.”

The groupie popped a vein. “It’s supposed to be a dragon!”

“Ah.”

Apparently this group contained all the… special cases. Kakashi approved.

“You can clean it wherever you want,” he drawled blandly. “I don’t care.”

“But what about those of us staying at an inn!” exclaimed the sand groupie. “Where are we supposed to find a maid?”

Everyone stared at him.

“Rich kids…” the mummy muttered. “But he has a point, copy nin. Where are we supposed to find a washing machine?”

Couldn’t they just infiltrate some unsuspecting old lady’s house? Was that truly so difficult? Kakashi sighed. “Well, that’s for me to know and for you to figure out.”

“I’m pretty sure they won’t,” Akiha muttered next to him.

“Whatever!” Ino cut in. “Who freaking cares?” She glared at Kakashi. “So, oddball. Say we wash your dumb sheets. And we dry them, I’m guessing. Then what?”

“You dry them,” Kakashi agreed, “and then you deliver them to me in six hours on top of the hokage mountain.”

Akiha decided in that moment to interrupt. “I think I’m starting to understand…” he said with a smirk. “Kids. Look, I’ll make this quick. For every clean sheet you deliver, you get one point. If it belongs to the opposing team, you get two. And the only way to pass? It’s all in the average.” He snickered, turning toward Kakashi. “Am I right?”

Kakashi’s eyebrow rose. “So you do understand…” He sighed. Now he had gone and given those kids a hint about the true test. Oh, well. “What my, uh, assistant means is, once the exercise is done, I will calculate the arithmetical average for group A and group B,” explained Kakashi, “picking the team members with the least and most points in each group. Got that? You will be evaluated according to your team’s average, understand?”

The participants nodded slowly, like they totally hadn’t.

“Whoever is below the average fails,” Kakashi continued monotonously. “Whoever doesn’t have at least one clean bed sheet fails. Whoever doesn’t get to the hokage monument on time fails. All clear?”

The candidates nodded numbly. “Great,” cheered Kakashi. “Then begin!”

Next to him, Akiha was eyeing the genin pityingly. “I think you broke them.”

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Jiraiya was currently arriving late to a meeting with his former teacher. He knocked at the secret door he’d been told about… which promptly was yanked open by his absolute favorite person in the whole world.

“Look who’s late,” drawled Danzo Shimura, eyeing Jiraiya with distaste. “The oaf in all his… glory.”

Jiraiya told himself to ignore the jab. Water off a duck’s back, honestly! “I told you, Danzo, I’m the Toad Sage. Not to mention,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “an author of world renown, hi hi. Want a copy?”

Danzo stared at him expressionlessly. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Jiraiya-kun,” Hiruzen greeted in that moment. “So good to see you! Come in, come in.”

Danzo was thus forced to step aside as Jiraiya noisily entered the room to give his former sensei a bear hug. He knew not to get overly emotional in Danzo’s presence, nor would Hiruzen, so he let go quickly and chanced a glance around the room instead.

“There’s a partition?” he questioned with surprise.

“Astute observation.”

Water off a duck’s back, Jiraiya, water off a duck’s back!

“You know,” the toad sage suggested, “if you want that copy, you just have to ask, Danzo…”

The elder glared at him. “I do not. Now, I know this might be beyond the scope of your understanding, but that partition is there for a reason, yes? So. Do. Not. Move. It.”

Water – off – a duck’s – back…

“Geez, Danzo,” Jiraiya remarked. “So uptight. I know just the thing for you: a relaxing soak at the hot springs, hm? Promise, you’ll be good as–”

Danzo swiped at him with his cane. Jiraiya parried with his arm guards.

“No, thank you, oaf.”

Behind the partition, something rustled. Like someone had moved, just a little. The hidden person, apparently, had thoughts about Jiraiya and Danzo’s interaction. In Jiraiya’s imagination, whoever it was was laughing their ass off unseen. He was so jealous right then, honestly.

Hiruzen coughed. “As Danzo has said, Jiraiya-kun, please do not attempt to, ah, unveil the identity of our guest.”

Jiraiya nodded all busyness-like, but his mind was whirring with possibilities.

“Of, course, I would never,” he assured innocently.

Hiruzen glared at him. “Jiraiya…”

“Honest!” Jiraiya said.

“So,” Danzo interjected, taking a seat. “Why don’t we begin?” Without waiting for anyone, Danzo commanded: “Agent, report.”

A cultured voice which Jiraiya couldn’t place spoke from behind the partition:

“I have information about the Akatsuki. This is what I know…”

 

 

 

 

 

Almost as soon as Kakashi had called out for the candidates to begin, the bed-sheets had all been yanked off their racks, each genin trying to swipe as many as they could, all while attempting to protect what they’d acquired. Unfortunately, the bundled sheets were not exactly easy to carry around, so launching a successful escape attempt with them was near impossible for Ino, who had no particular skill in taijutsu nor ninjutsu to enable this.

 

Before she even knew what was going on, the mummy guy was onto her: he’d done some sort of attack with the devise on his wrist, Ino had dodged, yes take that! but then the world had gone all blurry and wonky and she’d fallen on her bum. Her precious sheets had been taken away, and then the guy had just picked her up and not let go no matter how much Ino had screamed or flailed. Next thing she knew, she was falling, falling, falling – he had thrown her off the rooftop! – what now, what now, what now–

 

Without being all there, she had somehow managed to land without breaking anything, but various parts of her body ached and she felt like she was going to either puke or pass out. The shock of it all was still present. Her left ear was ringing and she could barely see straight, never mind stand straight. Her hands shaking, Ino had crawled to her feet. The idea that she could’ve just died, just like that, easy peasy, was so alien she began to giggle to herself. Mothers were casting her odd glances, pushing their children aside, but Ino just kept laughing as she swayed on the spot. Moments later, a new wave of dizziness hit her and she was sick right then and there, on the street, almost all over her sandals. It was mortifying in theory, but in truth she felt like she was floating in some unreal fog. Then Ino somehow picked herself up and stumbled away from all those people staring at her… away, but not very far. Somehow, she’d ended up propped against the wall of some shaded alley, her hands pressed against vomit-matted hair.

As she more or less regained her breath, never taking her hazy eyes off the rooftop, Ino bore witness to more than a few other candidates being victims of the same fate. Some of them looked dizzy, like her, as they plummeted from the rooftop. Some didn’t. But all of them looked terrified. In extreme cases where the candidates could’ve died, sudden shadows would jump out of nowhere and catch the unfortunate genin at the last possible minute. Those who were caught by the hidden ANBU, Ino saw, received some sort of stamp on their hand… They’d been disqualified, she realized. Because in a real situation, they’d be dead instead.

Suddenly, the blonde was glad she’d somehow managed to land on her own, even if it had hurt like a bitch.

Thanks for that, Asuma-sensei… and Forehead.

Forehead. Because the truth was, after seeing that Sakura could already tree-walk, Ino had suddenly gotten into a training flurry. Mind, she had worked out more intensively these past few days than she ever remembered in her life, practicing her wall-walking skills until her mother had scolded her silly. Especially after that conversation with Tetsuya… Ino blushed, well especially after that, she had redoubled her efforts.

The thing was, after thinking about it, she had concluded that Tetsuya had been right in his assessment. She’d undermined Sakura to the point where her friend had seen no other way out but with a fight.

She had never done it on purpose, of course, but Ino knew what she was like: bossy, classy and entitled. It was something that came with being clan heiress, with being funny and talented and pretty and everyone liking her… Ino knew what she acted like – like a leader, like the one who knew better. (Because she did, but that was besides the point.) The point was… Sakura had probably felt inferior due to this. At first she’d looked up at Ino because of this exact attitude, striving to emulate it, to be like her… and Ino was self-conscious enough to realize what had happened. She hadn’t wanted to share the spotlight, or more like, she hadn’t even expected to have to do so. And she had never changed how she treated Sakura.

When they’d first met, Ino had seen this shy, a bit odd girl who was all sad and needed help – plus a serious boost of confidence – and somehow, Ino’s heart had melted. Just like that, she’d reached out to her and a strong bond had blossomed between them. She’d treated Sakura a bit like a little sister who needed to be shielded and nurtured… and she’d never changed that outlook. And this had hurt Sakura, Ino now realized, and kept on doing so until she had simply burst, wanting to be Ino’s equal instead of her little sister, wanting to be respected, to be more… and then the whole Sasuke debacle had happened.

And Ino… well, she had been hurt by Sakura’s actions, mostly because she hadn’t understood where the sudden hostility was coming from. But now that she did, she truly felt sorry. If she imagined their roles reversed, Ino just knew she’d have blown up on her friend too, and probably a lot sooner.

So to conclude, if what Sakura needed was acknowledgment… Ino would knowledge her alright. She’d acknowledge her until it fucking sunk in that they were equals and rivals and friends and everything in between – damn it, Forehead!

More than anything, Ino wanted to show, not tell, Sakura that she was finally taking her seriously, not just as a love rival, but as a kunoichi, as a person… and thank god for that resolution. Otherwise, the blonde would have been out of the running already. She sighed. All this training she’d been doing had saved her.

And she knew Sakura wasn’t even in the exams, but Ino was certain that her teammates would manage to pass, no question about it. And the truth was, she couldn’t bear the thought of being the only one who remained behind. The disappointed expression of her father in that event swum across her mind. No, she wouldn’t allow it to become more than a thought. Ino wiped some bile off her hair. No matter what, she had to at least give this test her all.

Tremulously, the blonde got up, bracing herself against the wall. The world was still spinning. What now?

She tried to piece together what had happened. Clearly, all the power houses had taken control of the rooftop with all of the sheets on it and kicked everyone else out. She sighed. She needed to get back up there, but how? The hospital was the tallest building in the area. The rooftop was practically a fortification with all those strong guys up there.

It all depended, Ino figured, on what those powerhouses were doing. If they were fighting amongst each other, then she had a shot. But if they had forged an alliance, on the other hand, then her chances were horrible. Unfortunately, in all the time that she’d been observing the rooftop, she’d only seen people get dropped off; not a single person had left on their own. Ino was positive some of the powerhouses up there could’ve left had they wanted to, so the logical conclusion to be drawn was that they had formed an alliance – at least for now.

Which was bad. Because if they’d at least split up by teams, then Ino could’ve tried to rally her own teammates to reconquer the rooftop… but with just all wimps left on her side, she doubted this was possible.

What now?

Five minutes later, she was sitting on a bench, feeling miserable. If Shikamaru were here, she thought unhappily, he’d know how to fix this. As it was, repressing sobs was all she could do. After all her training… and yet she’d still been powerless.

 

Come on, Ino, the blonde told herself. Think practically.

What was the best thing she could do right then? That was the question Shikamaru always asked. But what was the answer? She’d already lost forty minutes. The clock was ticking.

Ino hesitated. She was no Shikamaru, but… getting treatment. Yes. She was already next to the hospital… she needed treatment. Because if there was one thing Ino knew, then it was that she needed to at least be able to walk in a straight line if she wanted to stand a chance. And so, to the hospital it was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Orochimaru of the Sannin had seen many things in his life. But pink-haired civilian girls who were simultaneously brave, terrified, clumsy and perceptive all at once was not a combination he’d ever encountered.

Sakura Haruno, was it?

 

He observed the pink-haired girl as she stood facing him on the other end of the training ground. Her green eyes were wide, the black pupils within reduced to little dots that showcased her fear… even her stance was frightened, clamped and tense. And yet, there she stood.

Orochimaru’s first impression of her had been that she was easy prey. A fearful, dainty little girl who had blindly understood that he was the predator and she was at the bottom of the food chain. She’d cowered in such a deliciously obvious way… the way only deer knew to be fearful of lions, the way a scared rabbit would instinctual tremble before a snake.

And yet, the rabbit had stepped forward of her own accord. There she stood, in front of him.

She had defied all laws of prey-predator and broken the natural equilibrium – she had volunteered to face Orochimaru. And unlike Naruto-kun, she had known exactly what she was getting into, and yet – Haruno Sakura had still challenged him. Orochimaru’s eyes slid to her remaining teammate. And all, it seemed, because of her precious Sasuke-kun.

The Sannin licked his lips. He had already played with the kyubi, tampered with his seal, and had every intention of likewise putting a curse mark on Sasuke… if he proved worthy, of course. He wondered… should he mark the Uchiha’s little doll permanently as well? He was sure it would anger him. It might serve as an additional motivator…

Thinking this, Orochimaru glanced toward the rabbit again. She was terrified, he could smell it. Hm… this was going to end quickly.

 

 

 

On the opposite side of the field, Sakura was indeed terrified as she and Orochimaru sized one another up.

Come on, Sakura… you can do this, she told herself. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this…

Then Orochimaru took a step forward and Sakura actually felt his chakra.

You cannot do this.

“Gyaaaah!”

RUN!

Terrified, Sakura just up and bolted in the opposite direction, sprinting without looking where she was going, without sense or reason – and ended up tripping over a rock. Yes. An actual rock… admittedly not one of her proudest moments. Worse yet: she yelpingly fell face-first to the ground. Great. Some ninja she was.

“Sakura!” Sasuke yelled.

Sakura had never felt so pathetic in her life.

And it was in that moment, as she lay face-first against the earth, feeling like a major failure as she waited for Anko to take a crack at her, that Sakura was struck by inspiration. Wait… she thought suddenly. Of course. She didn’t have to beat anyone. She just had to stall for time.

And what was she best at doing? Well, the answer was obvious.

“Waahhh!” Sakura began to wail loudly, clutching her ankle as though it were on fire and rolling dramatically on the floor. “My ankle, my ankle!” she sobbed convincingly. “WAHHH! It hurts so bad!”

Meanwhile, Orochimaru had stopped in his tracks and was staring blankly at her.

“Well, maybe Sassuke and I should…” he began.

Not a chance!

“BACK OFF you fucker!” Sakura wailed. As an excuse for her outburst, she added: “Don’t touch my ankle!” For greater effect, she then churned out a few more tears. “Sasuke… you have to carry me to a hospital! It hurts so much..!”

“No–” Orochimaru said, but it was too late: Sasuke had caught on.

“Hn. You’re right, Sakura.” Stepping closer, he examined her imaginary sprain. “This looks bad.”

Sniffing pitifully, Sakura peered at him through her lashes.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Sasuke nodded, touching her ankle awkwardly. “Very.”

Sakura suppressed a beam. Sasuke had just touched her foot! How hot was that?

Instead, she pretended to wince like the damsel in distress she was supposed to be.

“Help me up?”

“Hn.”

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes at them, examining the two genin critically. He knew what a sprained ankle looked like. And he knew this wasn’t it.

Lies. All of it – lies.

That girl…

He glared at Sakura Haruno. She had thrown him a curveball.

Thanks to her set-up, it would be impossible to proceed with his plan to fight Sasuke without breaking character… especially as the Uchiha seemed all too willing to vouch for her injury. And it would not do to blow his cover – not yet.

Orochimaru knew that he couldn’t afford to reveal his cards so early on in the game, not until he’d put the curse seal on Sasuke, at least… something which he didn’t dare to do openly. Had he had an excuse to fight the boy, to get close to him, to use a smoke screen as a ‘training exercise’, he could’ve easily put the curse seal on him without raising any alarms. But now that Haruno was playing injured, the situation had completely changed.

For one, Sasuke had no reason to ‘spar’ with him anymore: his teammate’s injury had given him the perfect excuse. And if Orochimaru insisted to keep fighting, he’d break character. Doing so was out of the question, because for all he knew, Hatake Kakashi could’ve sent some of his ANBU friends to check in on them just in case. And as ANBU were near-impossible to sense, he had no way of knowing whether any of them were in the area or not… something which he was not willing to chance.

If only he had taken the genin somewhere more secluded, like the Forest of Death… he could’ve revealed himself without compunctions. But now it was too late for that. He had been too arrogant – assumed they’d give him no trouble – and now Orochimaru was paying for it.

He had missed his chance to evaluate the Uchiha, both his sharingan and his personality… the latter of which was key to his plan. If he could understand Sasuke – what made him tick, what drove him forward – he’d be able to manipulate him. And if he could manipulate him, he could easily convince him to deflect from the village… But without an excuse to bait him (something he’d been meaning to do after knocking out Haruno), Orochimaru had no way to further study his character. He’d initially believed that the way into his heart was to grant him power, hence the curse seal idea, but after watching him today, the way he’d worried about his teammates, the way he’d gone along with Haruno’s plan… he was no longer sure. Had he been wrong? Orochimaru needed to know in order to decide on his next course of action. But he didn’t. He lacked information, and a lack of information could lead to mistakes.

Well played, Sakura Haruno, he thought. Well played indeed.

But now what? He wondered… should he go through with his original plan – of cultivating Sasuke until he had an adult body, ripe for the taking – or should he simply retrieve the boy’s sharingan now and resign to moving into a younger host?

If Sasuke couldn’t be baited with the power of the curse mark, Orochimaru knew that the former plan was doomed, as he wouldn’t be able to lure him away from Konoha. But again, he lacked data to make his decision. And all because one pink-haired genin had been in the way. He watched with absolute loathing as the insidious girl flailed about, wearing an idiotic expression. It made him want to tortuously pluck the skin right off her face and watch as she suffered for her transgressions, for her sheer nerve–

But there was nothing he could do to take revenge. Not now, at least.

Sakura Haruno… he would remember that name. And he would remember that he had been wrong about her, for all that she looked weak. The girl was resourceful, and that made her dangerous.

Normal tactics wouldn’t work in this situation.

After a moment of thought, he decided on his next move.

“I shall accompany you…” he spoke with a hiss. The girl could play injured all she wanted to, but once she made it to the hospital, her lie would be exposed. And then, she’d have no further excuses to avoid him – she and Sasuke both. Orochimaru smirked. Perhaps not all was lost yet…

 

 

Feeling eyes on her back, Sakura gulped. She had hoped Anko would stay behind so that they could warn somebody about her, but clearly the woman had other ideas.

“Uh, shouldn’t you, ah…” she sniffed tragically again, “get help, Anko-san?”

“I will accompany you,” Anko repeated ominously.

Sakura and Sasuke gulped.

“Go as slowly as you can,” Sakura whispered, feather soft.

Sasuke gave her a subtle nod.

Glancing around one last time, Sakura cringed. Naruto lay forgotten on the floor, drooling as he muttered to himself. She felt bad for leaving him behind, but she figured he’d be safer where he was than anywhere in Anko’s vicinity. Casting a last, furtive glance at him, Sakura nodded to Sasuke and, together, they set off toward the hospital, Anko’s vigilant stare prickling upon their backs. The question was… how long could they hold out for?

 

 

 

In another part of the village, Shikamaru was ensconced in the corner of a dingy shop, observing another candidate as he browsed through the different wares on display. The genin stopped at a set of gray onions with little black polka dots drawn upon it rather sloppily. No doubt, it was yet another one of Kakashi’s masterpieces.

The competitor glanced around suspiciously – in particular toward the old man who was manning the counter. Luckily, Shikamaru’s shadow concealment jutsu was enough to keep him from being noticed…

Unwittingly, the Nara was reminded of Sakura and how quickly she’d thwarted that particular concealment technique. He also remembered what she’d said about her teacher… that Kakashi liked to be misleading. So where was the catch? The man had said, Shikamaru recalled, that each ingredient would be guarded by a proctor… did that mean that the old shopkeeper was in fact a disguised proctor, or was the actual proctor somewhere else, hiding, observing…?

The candidate seemed to be thinking along those lines as well, for he very quickly swiped the onion at an angle in which the old man couldn’t have possibly seen, concealing it in his sleeve with great dexterity – but it was to no avail. The old shopkeeper suddenly glanced up, an odd gleam in his eye, and then, without warning, he rapidly threw a senbon – so fast that Shikamaru’s eyes could barely track it. The senbon hit the genin square in the neck, and next second, he was sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

Well, at least now I know who the proctor is, thought Shikamaru from his shadowed corner.

The ‘old man’ shuffled over to the genin, retrieving the onion and putting it back in its place, then he stamped something across the genin’s right hand… a mark which indicated he had failed, no doubt.

So it’s true. If you steal, no matter how well, you fail.

This wasn’t like Ibiki’s test then, where cheating had been encouraged. This was a new beast entirely. Shikamaru glanced up warily and his gaze met straight with the other man’s. They stayed like that, locked in an unnerving stare-off, until the proctor shrugged and returned to his place behind the counter.

It did not escape Shikamaru that the proctor had not retrieved the paper slip. Did that mean that it was still game to get it?

Carefully, without looking away, Shikamaru inched toward the passed out genin and began to search his pockets. He found the other’s scrap of paper soon and he pocketed it just as quickly. The proctor was still staring at him, but hadn’t moved to intercept. Hmm… interesting.

Shikamaru frowned, his mind whirring with possibilities. What was it Kakashi had said again?

If you steal, you’re disqualified… but the proctors are not allowed to sell anything to you.

Then why…?

He smirked. Ah. Of course. How sly of Kakashi… there was a loophole.

Feeling more confident now, Shikamaru stood up, scrap of paper in hand, and strode toward the counter. The proctor eyed him.

“What do you want, kid?”

The Nara heir frowned. “How much for the onion?”

“It’s not for sale.”

“You mean, you won’t take money for it,” Shikamaru clarified.

“Your point?” asked the man.

“How about… a different kind of currency?”

The proctor’s eyebrows raised.

Bingo.

“Such as?”

Shikamaru prayed for his bluff to work. “Information.”

And now the man’s attention had sharpened even more. The Nara suppressed a smirk.

Gotcha.

“Information…” the old man repeated. “And what would a brat like you know?”

“Plenty of interesting things,” lied Shikamaru fluidly, tapping his signature ponytail. “Such as… upcoming patrolling schedules for the holidays. You know who my dad is, don’t you?”

“Laying it on a bit thick there, brat,” said the man… but Shikamaru noticed that he had not dismissed the proposal.

It was a gamble, for sure, but he figured that, if there was one thing any ninja wanted, then it was easy, well-paying local missions during festivals and other festivities. Festivals, such as those that’d be celebrated soon because of the chunin exams. Which meant, whoever could get a hold of the patrolling schedule for then, as well as information on any available shifts, would have an immense advantage when it came to actually getting picked for them.

The proctor seemed to be considering Shikamaru.

“You tryin’ to bribe me, kid?”

Is it working?

“I am offering a simple trade,” Shikamaru settled on. “Not a purchase.”

The proctor smirked. “Well, well. I suppose if you name a free slot, I’ll accept your… trade offer.”

Shikamaru returned the grin. “You’ve got a deal.”

Perhaps the test wouldn’t be such a drag after all.

 

 

 

 

Shikamaru’s high spirits died a swift death as soon as he left the shop. Because, out of nowhere, there stood the sand kunoichi, blocking his path and glaring at him as though he’d personally offended her.

“Uh. Can I help you?” he asked, trying to mask his alarm.

The blonde stared at him hard. “That onion… how did you get it.”

“I… retrieved it,” Shikamaru settled on. And if by retrieved it, she understood ‘stole’, then that wasn’t Shikamaru’s fault, now was it?

“Oh?” said the kunoichi. “Good attempt, but you won’t mislead me.” Her eyes narrowed. “You, I saw what you did with the proctor.”

“Troublesome woman,” mumbled Shikamaru. “If you did, then what’s the point of this conversation.”

“You damn clown! The point is that you cheated!”

Shikamaru rubbed his temples. “Cheated?” he echoed. What a pain.

“You bribed the proctor!” the kunoichi snapped.

“So?”

She scowled. “That’s cheating.”

“No, it’s not.” Shikamaru interjected. “And if you really had a problem with that, you’d have told on me already. So what do you really want?”

The blonde gritted her teeth. “Yes, it is cheating.”

She did not answer his question. So she wanted to make this difficult, huh?

Shikamaru glanced around. “Are we really going to have this conversation here?” he asked instead. The blonde frowned. “Fine. Let’s go elsewhere,” she directed. “Over there.”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes when she took off somewhere without waiting for him to agree. “What are you waiting for, slacker clown?” she threw over her shoulder.

Shikamaru sighed. Troublesome woman…

Five minutes later, they had relocated to an inconspicuous weapons shop to have their conversation.

“So?” the blonde prompted.

Shikamaru pinched his nose again, leaning against a wall. “I told you. Bribery isn’t synonym of cheating.”

“Oh?” the blonde said sharply. She patted her fan threateningly.

Shikamaru gulped. “If you completed a mission thanks to bribery and the mission was successful, would you have a problem with that?”

The blonde narrowed her eyes, but seemed to acquiesce. “I suppose you have a point. I don’t care you cheated,” she said with distaste. “What I do care about is that you’re in a unique position, slacker clown. Because you have influence to bribe them all.”

‘Influence’? So she knew he was the Nara heir? Damn. Then the whole nickname thing was just to be rude, huh? Or was it a ruse to look less prepared?

Shikamaru crossed his arms. “Well, if that’s all…” He made to turn around, but the kunoichi held him back by the scruff of his jacket.

“Not so fast, clown.”

“What a drag…”

“You’re coming with me,” the blonde declared bossily.

“No,” Shikamaru replied. And before she had time to pull out her fan, he had already finished the handsigns for the shadow possession jutsu and captured her with his shadow. Almost instantly, the sand kunoichi seemed to realize something was amiss. But by then, it was too late. Something told Shikamaru he’d regret trapping her like this, but he’d done it on instinct and now it was too late to take it back. Wincing in preparation, he allowed her yaw to move, and her resulting hiss did not disappoint:

“What did you do?!”

“Nothing much,” said the Nara, blasé. “Just kept you from mauling me.”

“Screw you.”

Shikamaru grunted. She was pushing against his jutsu, and hard.

“I’m – I’m guessing you approached me because you want me to bribe the proctors for you?” he ground out.

The kunoichi said nothing, but her non-denial was enough.

They stared each other down for a moment, the blonde struggling against the paralysis and Shikamaru struggling to keep his hold on her.

“If – you want my help,” Shikamaru panted out. “Then I want half of your paper scraps. Take it or leave it.”

The girl glared at him venomously. “And if I say no?”

“Then we each go on our way.”

She eyed him for a moment. “A quarter.”

“Half,” Shikamaru parried, clamping down harder on her muscles. “I’d get us both the ingredients. You’d help… keep the rest of the competition at bay with your fan… it’s mutually beneficial.”

 

The sand kunoichi bit her lip, seeming to weigh her options for a tense three minutes. “Fine,” she snapped finally. “Now let go, slacker clown.”

Shikamaru sighed, relieved. He had no idea how, but he’d somehow managed to team up with one of the major powerhouses in the game. That was good… well, as long as she didn’t back-stab him. He figured the chances of that happening would be lower if they at least established some kind of rapport.

“Shikamaru,” he told her.

“Did I ask?” The girl glared daggers at him. “I said, let me go, slacker clown!”

“Troublesome.”

He did not let her go, until she finally seemed to get the hint and rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Fine, you damn… Shikamaru. Let. Me. Go!”

Shikamaru sighed yet again. What a pain. With great caution, he released the jutsu. He was not prepared, however, for the lightning-fast hand that suddenly grasped his shirt, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him against a wall.

Ow.

Shikamaru’s head thudded and he swore he could see stars.

“Troublesome woman…” he muttered, not all there.

The kunoichi got in his face, her blue eyes narrowed to slits.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, you damn slacker clown – Shikamaru – whatever,” she spat hotly. Then, giving him a good shake, she let go, dusting her hands off. “I’m Temari, by the way.”

As she spoke, Shikamaru thudded to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“And don’t call me a troublesome woman,” she sneered. “It feels sexist.”

“…dully noted…”

He rubbed at his head. God, that troublesome woman.

Almost like she could guess what he was thinking, Temari’s eyes flashed dangerously at him and he gulped.

“After you,” the kunoichi snapped acerbically.

Shikamaru shakily got up. “Right.”

Still low-key terrified, he shuffled toward the door, Temari close on his heels.

What neither of them noticed as they left the shop was that another figure had been concealed behind a rack of helmets and had heard every single part of their exchange.

Well, well… thought Tenten, smirking to herself. Aren’t they cute?

Once she was done with those two, they wouldn’t know what had hit them. And without further ado, she sweetly waved at the clerk and trailed behind them. The game is on.

 

 

 

 

 

Ino, meanwhile, was sitting in a plastic chair with a pack of ice pressed to her face. On another plastic chair in front of her sat another candidate who had clearly had the same idea as her: getting healed first, asking questions later. The med-nin on standby had already healed them both, Ino first, then him, but instructed them to stay there for a few more minutes. Now, sitting silently in front of the scowling older boy, Ino repressed a snicker, remembering how Kakashi had dubbed him as ‘kitty cat’.

“What?” the candidate asked with narrowed eyes. “Something funny?”

Ino shook her head innocently. “Only your face.”

The guy balked. “Damn you little runt!”

Ino sighed, shuffling the ice package around a little. “Would you please not shout. My ear is killing me.”

The guy paused, his mouth shutting with a click. “You too, huh?”

Ino blinked at him. “You mean you got attacked by that mummy dude as well, Kitty cat?”

“For the love of–” he rolled his eyes. “Kankuro. It’s Kankuro. And yes, that damn sound rat fucking got me…”

Ino snorted. “My feelings exactly.”

They stared at one another for a moment. “So, what are you gonna do?” Ino asked nosily.

Kankuro rolled his eyes. “The answer is obvious: get revenge.”

“So you’re gonna stomp in, just like that, and hope for the best?”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Kankuro glared at her. “You remind me of my annoying sister. What would you do instead, if you’re so smart, blondie?”

Ino rolled her eyes. “It’s Ino. And I am not like your crazy sister – my hair is much silkier, mind – and…” she paused. “And I think you should team up with me.”

Kankuro stared at her blankly. “In your dreams.”

“Hmp.” Ino shuffled her ice-pack around. She suddenly knew what she had to do: she needed to make use of her social skills to gather anyone she could find in order to reconquer the rooftop with her… unify all of the remaining candidates into an alliance. She looked at Kankuro calculatingly. He seemed strong… A good addition to her future alliance. But that very strength also meant that he’d only join her if he really thought he stood something to gain from it.

“What.” Kankuro deadpanned, shuffling around. “What are you staring at me for?”

Ino lifted her gaze, shrugging. “Nothing much. Just thinking you should remove that face-paint and maybe people would take you seriously.”

“The hell?!”

Ino got up from her chair. After the healing session she’d gotten, she was already feeling a lot better. “Listen here, Kankuro,” she enunciated clearly. “You can go off trying to get your revenge without a plan for all I care. But I? I’m going to get a following, and then I’ll strike. If you still want to join us later, the offer still stands.”

And with that, Yamanaka Ino breezed past an open-mouthed Kankuro and out of the room. She had plenty of things to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Kakashi and Akiha were perched on a rooftop that overlooked the hospital.

“Poor brats,” Akiha muttered, watching a sobbing genin who had just fallen off the rooftop.

Kakashi continued to stare at his Icha Icha. “They’re not understanding the test at all,” he said blandly. “And here I thought it was going to be easy.”

“Yeah…” said Akiha. “The getting thrown off a rooftop is totally beginner stuff.”

“Touche.” Kakashi sighed. “This is a disaster.”

Akiha looked at him curiously. “What did you expect? You literally set things up so those brats would turn on one another.”

“Maa… you’re wrong,” Kakashi said. “Why else would I have divided them into teams if not for them to work as a team?”

Akiha shrugged. “Well, those guys on the rooftop teamed up.”

“They don’t count. They will turn on each other as soon as they have the chance. That’s not how teamwork works.”

“Sometimes it is.”

Kakashi’s face turned so quickly that Akiha started.

“I’m sorry?” he asked quietly.

“What? It’s true,” Akiha muttered, uncomfortable but unrepentant. “Teamwork this, teamwork that. Sure, it’s great for propaganda, but if you get stuck with assholes for teammates, you’re on your own.”

Kakashi seemed to have forgotten his book. “Oh?”

“No offense, but I’m stronger alone,” Akiha elaborated. “My teammates are nothing but a permanent toothache, always telling me off and hating on me. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t put up with them.”

Kakashi’s lone eye had narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

“What?”

“Teammates are not obstacles,” Kakashi said in a low voice. “It’d do you well to keep that in mind, Akiha.”

“Maybe not your teammates,” the teen interjected. “Newsflash: not everyone gets to be the famous copy nin. Not everyone gets lucky with their teammates.”

“It’s not about luck,” Kakashi said coldly. “It’s about trust.”

“Sure,” Akiha countered fiercely. “But trust has to be earned.”

And so, they were at a stalemate. Eventually, Kakashi reopened his book.

“Suit yourself,” he said coldly. It was apparent that he was vexed.

Akiha crossed his arms and looked away pointedly. A few minutes passed in this manner until he caught sight of something interesting: Sasuke Uchiha. Wasn’t that one of Kakashi’s genin? He tried for a peace offering: “Oi. Your team’s down there.”

Kakashi ignored him. “Save your pranks for someone else.”

Akiha peered down the edge of the building. “I mean it.”

“Hm.”

“Just look. Sasuke Uchiha is right there. With some pink-haired girl and Anko… looks like the girl got injured.”

Kakashi sighed, getting up. “I swear if you’re–” He cut himself off, peering down at he street. And indeed, his genin were hobbling down the path, Sasuke bracing a limping Sakura, who looked like she’d been crying. Anko, indifferent, trailed behind.

Kakashi suddenly felt anger burst aflame in his chest. Anko had hurt them, had hurt Sakura. And Naruto? Where was Naruto? His teeth gritted as he continued to watch. Leaving his team with her had been a mistake. Why couldn’t he get anything right? He was about to jump down from the roof, when Akiha held him back by the shoulder.

“What?”

“Hey, chill,” the teen said slowly.

“I am chill,” Kakashi snapped.

“Tell that to your killing intent.”

Kakashi forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to rein in his wayward chakra. “Better?”

Akiha eyed him and nodded dubiously.

Kakashi turned away roughly, preparing to jump towards his kids yet again, when the teen held him back yet again.

“What now?”

“You can’t go.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Kakashi remarked, taking another step.

“Wait, I mean it!” Akiha exclaimed. “I can’t let you leave, that’s my mission! You have to stay here to supervise the test.”

“I have to see if they’re okay.”

“You’re seeing it right now. The girl has a broken ankle, for fuck’s sake.”

Kakashi glared silently.

Akiha sighed.

“Alright, alright. Then how about this?” He made some quick handsigns, producing a shadow clone. “I will go and make sure they’re okay. You and my clone stay here. And if you so much as try to leave or get close to the hokage tower, my clone will dispel and I’ll sound the alarm. Clear?”

Kakashi rolled his eyes. It just figured that his escort’s real mission was to make sure he didn’t spy on the hokage.

“And why can’t I make a clone?” he asked, mostly as a test.

“Because I’m supposed to keep an eye on you and I can’t do that if you multiply,” Akiha snapped, proving his theory.

“Maa. So this is a surveillance mission after all.”

Akiha didn’t reply. He hadn’t thought he would, but he found himself actually liking the copy-nin a fair bit. He wanted to help with his students… though after their argument, the general atmosphere about Kakashi had grown frigid, so Akiha figured he’d best give the guy some space. Given, leaving Kakashi with his clone wasn’t exactly ‘space’, but he felt like he could use a breather himself too. Hence, he waved and sunshined off the rooftop.

Kakashi, on his part, rolled his eyes and returned to his book, having calmed down slightly. It had become apparent to him that he had overreacted. Sakura had a sprain, for god’s sake. And with him gone, Naruto had probably ditched training for the day to pull pranks on people. Even so, he signaled for one of his proctors to go retrieve the blonde – wherever the hellion was. He wasn’t taking any chances.

 

 

 

Down on the street, Sakura and Sasuke had nearly reached the hospital, Anko close on their heels.

Shit, what now?

They’d almost made it to the building… and Sakura knew that if a medic saw her ankle, her lie would immediately be exposed. And then what? She glanced back toward Anko fearfully. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Hey,” a new voice interrupted. Sakura looked up and saw a ninja who was walking right toward them. “Kakashi sent me to make su–”

He knew Kakashi? Sakura didn’t let him finish. This was her chance. Her only chance.

“Takeshi-kun!” she exclaimed randomly, launching herself at the ninja. “Long time no see!”

The poor guy froze, going stiff as a board as Sakura clung to him like a koala.

Play along, play along, play along…

There was an awkward moment where he just stared at her. Then his gaze lifted, parsing over Sasuke and coming to rest upon Anko, and Sakura intensified the strength of her vice-hold on him. He needed to understand.

Then his hand moved and he awkwardly patted her head.

Sakura breathed out tremulously. He understood.

“Ahh… um, hey squirt,” the stranger now dubbed as Takeshi said. “How’s it going,” he added lamely.

And with these words, whether he knew or not, he had saved them. Sakura’s grip relaxed, as her entire being filled with bone-crushing relief. She was so grateful to him in that moment, she could’ve hugged him. Wait, never mind. She coughed, trying to get her voice to obey.

“Um, uh. Takeshi-kun?”

The ninja peered down at her. “Yes?”

“Can you… can you keep us company after I get checked up?” she asked quietly. “Or… or mind us, or anything?” She let go a little to look pleadingly into his eyes – blue. “Please. We don’t… Sasuke and I don’t…”

Sasuke found the words which she couldn’t:

“We wouldn’t want to bother Anko any more than we already have,” he said calmly, stepping forward. “Takeshi.”

The ninja stared back and forth between them. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. Then he seemed to take in Anko, whose narrow-eyed gaze was boring holes into Sakura’s back, as well as the subtle threatening aura she gave off.

“Ah, sure,” he agreed easily. “I’m not doing anything interesting this morning.” He adjusted his grip on Sakura, then gestured for Sasuke to follow. “Come along, kids.” He turned toward Anko. “I’ll take it from here, Mitarashi.”

And without waiting for a reply, he marched into the hospital, Sakura in tow. Sasuke sped up to catch up with them, while Anko had stopped walking, staring after them with a sour expression on her face.

Finally, she was gone.

Covertly, Sakura breathed out in relief, waiting a few tense minutes to see if she could sense the other woman in the vicinity. When nothing came up, she finally relaxed.

 

 

Noticing this, their savior let Sakura go.

“Madara’s pointy nose” he said with a whistle. “That was some performance, kiddo.”

Sakura looked down, blushing. “Um. I’m sorry about that.”

“She feigned a sprain,” Sasuke added with a smirk. Then his eyes narrowed. “And how do you know about Madara?”

The guy shrugged. “He’s my idol.”

Sakura stared blankly as Sasuke gave an approving nod.

“Who’s Madara?” she asked. “And was his nose really that pointy?”

“No,” said Sasuke.

“Yes,” Akiha had said at the same time.

Sasuke turned to glare at him, but he elaborated on, undeterred. “Legend goes, it got pointier whenever he told a lie.”

“That’s stupid!” Sasuke exclaimed, while Sakura giggled. Swearing by Madara’s pointy nose sounded even better than Hashirama’s mullet. Maybe she should alternate?

 

 

 

“So,” Akiha said after a moment, plopping down on a chair. “Anko’s training that bad?”

The two genin nodded.

“Any S-ranked criminals in sight?”

Sasuke and Sakura stared at him oddly.

“Uh… no?” Sakura ventured. “Just Anko-san.”

“Good to know, good to know,” Akiha told them, seeming amused. “Looks like you aren’t shonen protagonists after all.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Hm, nothing. So… You guys okay on your own now?”

Sasuke nodded, turning around without further fanfare and walking out of the room, who knows where. But instead of following as she wanted to, Sakura stayed behind.

“Uhhh… actually, I, uh. I have something I need to tell you, shinobi-san.”

“Way to make me feel like an old fart. I’m what? Three, four, years older than you?”

Sakura blushed. “Uh, sorry, um, shinobi-kun. Anyway, what I wanted to say is… something’s really fishy about Anko-san.”

“She’s an odd duck,” he agreed.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “No. I mean, yes. But no, it’s not just that… I think she wanted to… to do something mean to Sasuke and Naruto.”

“Like what?”

“Something bad. She was acting all creepy and stuff.”

“Hmmm… well, like teacher, like student I suppose…” Akiha muttered. “Maybe I should take a look at what she’s up to, just in case.”

Sakura nodded, grateful. “Be careful, please, shinobi-kun.”

“No worries,” said Akiha. “Anko is strong, but so am I.”

More like cocky.

“Yes,” Sakura argued. “But… shouldn’t you go with someone?” In case she tries something perverted on you too.

The teen waved her off. “No need. For all we know, Anko was just trying to give you kids a scare.”

Sakura looked at him hesitantly. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. She’s got a bit of a reputation for that, you know?”

Sakura nodded uncertainly. Deciding that that was the best he was going to get, Akiha waved at her and then sunshined out of the hospital.

Fucking Anko.

He’d trail her for a while, see what she got up to. He didn’t think anything was actually wrong, but that girl’s evident fear had unsettled him… just a little. Better be safe than sorry.

 

 

 

 

Finding Mitarashi Anko took him a bit, but he finally pinpointed her at the edge of the village. Without saying a word, the woman entered the forest of death… and Akiha followed. He was starting to suspect something was really up.

Anko kept walking, not too fast and not too slow, until they were so deep within the forest that he couldn’t sense Konoha anymore.

And then she turned around… and looked straight at where he was hidden. Akiha jolted.

“Well, well. Why don’t you come out, little mouse?” she purred.

Akiha turned around with every intention to flee and get backup, suddenly understanding perfectly why that girl had been so afraid. He had to run–

But as he twisted on his heel, he found himself face to face with the very woman, or what once had been her – inches away. Except now her skin was pasty white, her eyes glowed an eerie yellow, and entire slabs of skin were peeling off.

She was smirking at him wickedly.

“What’s wrong? Snake got your tongue?” As though to empathise her point, a large, slimy tongue emerged from her mouth as she licked her lips ominously.

Akiha chocked, horrified. He knew who this was.

“O-Orochimaru.”

It came out like a garbled question, and yet he was suddenly certain. Orochimaru of the Sannin, the Orochimaru, had somehow infiltrated Konoha. Orochimaru was fucking in front of him. Orochimaru had lured him to an empty, creepy forest…

Oh, fuck. He was so fucked.

Why was the S-ranked criminal here? Akiha thought frantically. Worse. He was alone. With said S-ranked criminal. Even worse: alone – in the forest of death, where no one would find nor look for him. What was he supposed to do? What had he gotten himself into? Oh, nonononono–

Trying not to hyperventilate, Akiha pinched himself, retreated to a safer distance and began forming hand-seals. “Fuuton: shredding wind blade!” he exclaimed, trying to create a distraction.

But Orochimaru only chuckled, forming lightning quick handsigns of his own. “Doton: earth dome,” he hissed.

“Shit!” Akiha cursed. A powerful wall of earth blocked his attack, with the double function of also concealing Orochimaru. And suddenly the Sannin’s presence vanished.

 

 

If there was anything more terrifying than sensing him from up close, then that was not to sense him at all.

Shit.

Akiha swerved around, tensing. Where was he? Where was he?

Behind? No.

To the sides?

Above?

Both no.

At the very last second, he jumped, barely on time, for right where he’d been standing, a sudden earth serpent began to chomp the ground to bits, destroying everything on its path.

Fuck, that was close.

Akiha pulled out two nunchakus, using them to twirl a small tornado toward the snake, which upon impact burst into a myriad of other, smaller serpents. He flinched. Shit. Where was Orochimaru?

“Right behind you, my dear.”

He jolted, performing a substitution, but it was too late. A blade had nicked him – his kidney, he realized with dawning horror as he landed on a tree branch. Fuck. He was as good as dead. It was a bleak realization.

Still standing on the forest floor, Orochimaru chuckled.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got.” He smirked cruelly. “ANBU isn’t what it used to be, it seems.”

“Shut – shut up,” Akiha rasped, trying to keep it together. He was stronger than this, goddamn!

Orochimaru merely smiled, and in that moment, their eyes met. Big mistake. It was said that eye-contact amplified killing-intent perception, but that was a massive understatement. The size and potency of Orochimaru’s sheer killing intent in that instant was a thing of nightmares. By virtue of some higher power, Akiha broke free of the shock, just in time to dodge yet another blade, this one aimed at his throat. But even if he could move, the killing intent had left him reeling. He’d never felt anything so malicious.

“Poor baby ANBU…” Orochimaru cooed. “Are you going to throw a tantrum? Perhaps I should lull you into eternal sleep, just in case, hm?” He smiled. “Why don’t I… yes, yes. It’s time to feed my pet.”

And then, without warning, he flashed through the handsigns for the summoning jutsu. As a result, a huge cloud of smoke appeared within the clearing, making it impossible to see what animal he’d summoned. Akiha knew he had a contract with snakes, but knowing couldn’t have prepared him for what came next. Once the smoke cleared, a colossal, poison purple serpent emerged from within the white steam, its head gigantic, its eyes narrowed into malicious slits, its tongue tasting the air. The reptile was so large that it could’ve encircled the entire hospital building with body to spare, but as it now lay flat against the ground, no one would spot it from afar. Akiha cursed. He knew what was coming.

“Orochimaru,” the snake hissed. “What is it you want?”

“Hmm. I have a snack for you, Manda,” Orochimaru informed. “Do you smell him?”

The gigantic monster snake, Manda, seemed to pause. “Ah, I see. An injured human… yes, I can smell his blood.”

Manda’s humongous, scaly body twisted until his yellow, terrifying eyes were trained right on a horrified Akiha.

“That’s the one…” said Orochimaru. “Itadakimasu, ne?” And with these last words, the Sannin strode out of the clearing.

Akiha, meanwhile, tried to get it together. He had made ANBU by sixteen for a reason, danm it. He could do this. He could beat some snake. Given, having just joined the ranks, it was true that ‘panda’ didn’t have a lot of field experience… But he was very proficient in wind jutsu, and he had other additional skills to round it up. He’d even gotten quite good at the shadow possession jutsu, over the years…

And yet, nothing he threw at the snake was working. Its scales were like armored steel traps, completely impervious to even the sharpest of winds, and trying to trap such a large creature with his shadow was an absolute fool’s errand… He fought tooth and nail, but nothing worked. Once fighting didn’t work, Akiha tried ‘flight’. But it soon became apparent that he couldn’t run and neither he could he hide, the smell of blood giving away his position. Finally, after a battle that seemed to drag on for hours, he gave up. The snake was toying with him, and he was just – done. He wanted this nightmare to end.

 

Moments later, Manda’s formidable jaws were closing around the teen’s frame – kicking legs, bleeding body, and then his head – leaving nothing behind.

 

 

 

In another part of the village, Kakashi had been reading his Icha Icha when Akiha’s clone suddenly twitched, eyes widening, and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Huh… Kakashi lowered his book, staring at the vacant spot. Wonder what that was about?

 

Hmm. He got up with a flip. Well, no time as good as the present to spy on the hokage, right?

 

 

 

 

Notes:

So... heh heh. Sorry?
I hope that was appropriately gruesome.

Anyway, I'm really excited to hear your thoughts about the chapter, BUT not just that. I bear news today: I've published a new fic called War Paint... and, no, calm down, I can hear your distress but rest assured that will not be neglecting More Than Enemies in favor of War Paint. Hold your horses, guys! War paint is more of a side-project that will probably get updated rarely and when I'm feeling burnt out from writing this fic, ya know? Anyways, you must be thinking, "well, that's fine and dandy then. Now that you've established that update schedulles won't be threatened, please do move on." Well, yes. Though I do have a tiny, er, favor to ask. Could you maybe check War Paint out, if you have the time? I don't want to spam you, but the thing is, it's a really out-there topic, so no one's reading it. I've only got three bookmarks...
It's actually about, well, you know Naruto's kid? You know how he's an exact copy of him, with the same personality only smarter and already a genius plus he's OP? Well, I figured... that doesn't sound very plausible, now does it? So I came up with an alternative... a shy, introverted kid with a somewhat unsettling resemblance to Nagato who is also patently bad at being a ninja. And that's what War Paint is about. Also featuring a reincarnated Itachi and Madara, and parental Kakashi *wink* *wink*
So... give it a go? It's really short, I promise.
Anyway, sorry about that. If you're still reading, thank you. I wanted to thank everyone who's been reviewing and stuff. It really cheered me up and kept me motivated, even though I'm very stressed right now.
So... really. Thank you!

Chapter 9: Goodbye

Notes:

So... as I mentioned already, I am currently very busy. I have a big, stressful thing coming up on the first, second and third of July, so I'm only posting thanks to having written this chapter ages ago. It hasn't been proofread, however. That means... yep. Typos. I also had been meaning to add a scene that has only been briefly skimmed over. I'll probably go back and change a couple things once I have more time, as well as the earlier scenes with Orochimaru in them (I've changed my way of characterizing him as of chapter 10). So. Hope you'll like this!

Ps. Quick sketch of Sakura in some workout clothes, so you get a general idea of what they're supposed to look like. I drew this very quickly, so don't expect a Picasso.

 

It was a crisp morning outside, and now that the danger had passed, Sakura could truly appreciate it. Seeing as Kakashi was still busy with his test and Anko was thankfully gone, that meant she had the rest of the day to herself. Finally! It’d been ages since she’d caught a break.

Thinking this, Sakura decided it was high time to go clothes shopping. She’d been wearing some of her old Academy outfits to walk Kakashi’s dogs, but they were getting a little too tight for her frame. So she needed new dispensable clothes, Sakura concluded. Keeping in mind that her objective was to buy sturdy garments which didn’t stain easily, she immediately made a beeline to Yuna’s thrift-shop and began to ruffle through the racks. Yuna, after listening to Sakura’s explanation on what she was looking for, had dragged her into the fitting room, told her to ‘stay put for once, girl’ and then breezed off into the shop. Every few minutes, a piece of clothing would come sailing through the air into the fitting cabinet, along with barked instructions to try it on. Rolling her eyes fondly, Sakura did… sometimes against her better judgment. The thing was that, unfortunately, the old cat-lady had too much of a practical eye and kept showering Sakura with clothes that might look very practical and shinobi-like, but weren’t exactly flattering to wear. Sakura sighed. But then again, that’s why those clothes were supposed to be for dog-walking and dog-walking only, right?

After a while of shuffling in and out of various garments, Sakura finally came across something she actually liked: black pants. Yes, yes, it sounded rather uninteresting, but she actually thought they were very cool-looking and practical, which was a rare combination. They were skin-tight and form fitting, but made of a thick, sturdy non-flammable material which felt actually nice to the touch. Most notably, the pants had enough pockets in them to hide food for an entire army. Kami, they were badass!

Sakura imagined that if all those pockets were to be filled, the pants probably wouldn’t be so form-fitting anymore, but trying them on right then, she could confidently say they rocked. Goodbye, scraped knees!

When she told Yuna of her discovery, the old lady went on a frantic search of the shop to see if she could find a second pair, which she did, much to both their delight.

Then the cat-lady got it into her head that she needed something to accompany the pants and henceforth launched yet another expedition into the depths of the shop.

When she was finally done trying things on, Sakura had acquired a few shirts as well, most of them with green cargo patterns on them, which Yuna assured would make dirt and grass-stains hard to notice.

Sakura still liked her quipao dress a lot better, but she was satisfied with the acquisitions.

“How’s your friend doing?” Yuna asked as she was paying.

“Hm?” asked Sakura absently. “You mean Stalker-san?”

Realizing what she’d just called him, she blanched and covered her mouth, but it was too late. Yuna had heard and was staring at her with round eyes. Then she started cackling.

“Stalker-san?” she crowed. “Good one, girlie! This is precious!”

“Um… please forget I said that.” Sakura scratched her cheek awkwardly. “I should probably start calling him Tetsuya instead, huh?”

“Tetsuya?” Yuna asked. “He does act like some philosopher, ey? But nah, if it were up to me, girl, I’d call ‘im somethin’ else.”

Sakura blinked at her. “What?”

Yuna smiked. “How about ‘Itami’… or Ita-kun for short?” Her expression in that moment was quite shrewd, like the cat that got the cannary.

“Itami? Like pain?” Sakura asked after a moment. She really didn’t understand the joke.

“Yes, ‘cause he’s a pain in the arse.”

“Right. Says you.”

Yuna snickered. “Do whatever ya want, girl. But if ye feel like having a laugh, remember: Ita-kun!” She burst into cackles yet again.

Sakura shook her head, used to the cat lady’s odd antics.

“Whatever, Yuna. That’s just weird.”

Yuna waved her off. “Psh. Then you can keep callin’ him Stalker-san like a normal person, can’t ya, girl?”

Sakura flushed. She had a point. “I’ll call him Tetsuya from now on.”

“Hm, go ahead then,” said the old woman. “But if ya want him to react… ya know what to say.”

The genin nodded, not really understanding. “Well, alright. By the way, would you mind if I change into my new clothes before leaving?”

Yuna nodded, and so Sakura quickly disappeared into the back of the shop, donning her new outfit quickly as she mulled over Yuna’s words. She and stalker-san – err, Tetsuya? – had been talking alone or awfully long the other day. Sakura had to wonder what that was about. Did it have something to do with the Ita-kun suggestion? Perhaps she’d have to try using it… see what happened. Pensively, Sakura walked out of the fitting room and toward the door, lost in her musings when–

“Wait, girl!”

She turned. “Yes?”

Yuna waved her over, leading Sakura to the back of the shop… to a part she’d never been before.

“Yer a ninja now, hm?”

Sakura nodded. “’course I am, Yuna! I’ve been a genin for three months already!”

“And yet ya’ve been parading around lookin’ like that.” The old woman gestured toward the bag containing Sakura’s quipao dress with distaste. In any other situation, Sakura would’ve jumped to defend her signature attire, but now she was curious to see what Yuna wanted.

“But those?” The old woman waved at her current gear. “Those are the clothes of a real ninja.” She opened a cupboard. “So I figured ye can take some ‘a these.”

Sakura gaped. Within the cupboard, there were so. Many. Explosive. Tags… it was insane. Sakura stared at all the little paper pieces.

Those little paper pieces could kill with a thought, she mused, could cause destruction beyond belief, could level trees, rocks, take lives and limbs. Sakura stared at the explosive tags, then turned toward Yuna.

“Why do you have all o these, Yuna?”

“Didn’t I tell ya I have many kinds of customers?”

Sakura nodded, privately thinking that hidden away as they were, the tags were unlikely to get sold.

She eyed a few.

“They look… strange.”

“Do they?”

Sakura nodded, narrowing her eyes at them. She had very good memory, almost photographic, which is why she felt like the imprint upon the tags was off… was not the one she’d seen on regular Konoha explosives.

“Pff, well they work, so what’s the fuss?” commented the old woman, grabbing a few tags, each from different racks. First she took about ten which looked like the ones Sakura was familiar with, then took three of the remaining shelves, until she arrived at the last shelf. There were very few tags on it.

Slowly, Yuna retrieved a single tag from the shelf, handling it with care.

Sakura stared at it apprehensively.

The word ‘destroy’ stood out in bold, blood-red letters within the center of the tag.

“That one,” Yuna said, “is only for emergencies. Ya got that, girl?”

Sakura nodded, her eyes wide.

Pleased with her expression, Yuna sorted through them carefully, handling them with great care. Then gave them to Sakura. Sakura had been about to put them in the shopping bag when Yuna hit her with a towel. The towel which she usually carried on one shoulder… only it felt like a whip.

“Ow!” Sakura exclaimed. “What was that for?”

Yuna gestured toward the tags. “Those go in your weapons pouch, you idiot girl.”

Sakura frowned. “But I don’t have so much space for all those tags.”

Yuna sighed, annoyed, then retrieved a scroll from a different shelf. “See this? It’s a storage scroll. “D’ya know how to use them?”

Sakura shook her head and Yuna rolled her eyes.

“Figures. C’mere, girlie. I’ll show ya somethin’ useful for once.”

By the time Sakura was done learning all about sealing scrolls, Shikamaru had finished bribing all of the proctors with made-up information. It had been laughably easy, though he imagined that once they found out about his deception, or worse, once his father found out, he’d be in trouble. But by then, Shikamaru would’ve hopefully left the even more troublesome test behind him. That was something, right?

“Looks like you’re useful after all, slacker clown,” Temari commented from his right, gesturing to the bag with all the tags and ingredients he was holding.

Shikamaru pointedly ignored her. He may be a slacker clown, but he wasn’t about to let the blonde refer to him like that and expect an answer. Ino calling him names was once thing, but some stranger who happened to also be his competitor? Normally he wouldn’t have minded much, but appearing weak wasn’t a good idea in the war zone that was the chunin exams. Besides, something about the blond sand kunoichi just irked him.

He had turned toward Temari to tell her his name, for the fifth time, but then he unexpectedly tripped on something, stumbling frantically over his feet. Before Shikamaru could regain his balance, someone rudely rammed into him with great strength, which was enough of a blow to down him completely. He heard Temari yelling, but it was drowned out by blinding hot-white pain that arced up his nerves and into his very core. Somehow, he realized blearily, he’d fallen straight into a… wire. A sharp, cutting wire that slid straight into his flesh – and the momentum of his fall had insured that it cut right in like a knife through butter.

It hurt like a bitch, but what was worse was that a wire had even been there in the first place. It could only mean one thing – this was a trap!

Over his own pained moan, Shikamaru heard Temari curse loudly and jump, but by then it was too late: the bag with all of their tags and acquired items, which he had been holding to give Temari more mobility, was gone. And it was his fault.

But he could hardly do much of anything as he lay there on the ground, drowned by the sounds of passerby skirting around him, muttering about the boy on the floor. Right, that was him. Slacker clown extraordinaire, lying down upon any available flat surfaces at any given time. And yet, Shikamaru barely heard a thing. The wire had cut him deeply, missing his right eye by just a little and leaving a painful imprint all over his face and down his neck. Thank god for his jacket. He groaned, clutching at the wound in pain, trying to open his eyes and failing; he was unable to due to blood that was trickling down his forehead. By the time Shikamaru finally managed to get it together and get back on his feet, he was alone. He sighed, accepting a woman’s tissue and dabbing it gingerly over his bleeding face. Of all the stupid ways to get injured…

“Get back here, damn it!” Temari was yelling in the distance, no doubt giving chase to the thief. Judging by how far away her voice sounded, Shikamaru knew he didn’t stand a chance to catch up. Especially because the chase appeared to be over the rooftops, and while he was decent at tree-walking, rooftop chases required another level of chakra control entirely.

Worse yet: he doubted Temari would bother to find him if she managed to catch up… meaning, he was back to square one. No points, no tags, more competition and less time.

Just great. This had turned into even more of a drag than it already was. Sakura hadn’t been kidding when she said Kakashi’s test would be hell.

Annoyed, Shikamaru crouched down and retrieved his first and only tag, which he’d thankfully stowed away within his sandal. He had felt stupid for hiding it there at the time, but now he was more than a little grateful. The tag was safe and sound, and he felt an inordinate amount of relief at the sight of Kakashi’s scrawled Burgundy cucumbers.

Just as he was thinking this, he suddenly spotted Gaara out of the corner of his eye. Gaara. Of all people… His presence in the vegetable section of market shouldn’t have been that surprising, but Shikamaru jolted at the sight. Everything within him had suddenly grown tense and taut.

Gaara. He had them. He had the cucumbers. Shikamaru could see a great number of fruits and vegetables all tied to his gourd and enticingly dangling over the ground with every step the he took… just begging for someone to snatch them. Especially the cucumbers he was carrying – cucumbers which by the looks of it had been dipped into red paint. Kudos to Kakashi for food-poisoning, thought Shikamaru with annoyance. In any case, the paint left no doubt about it: these were the famous burgundy cucumbers. With Shikamru’s concealment technique, it would be so easy to just sneak up and snatch them, same as the thief had earlier… But. There was always a but, of course. But if Gaara was displaying the ingredients so obviously, it must mean he was confident in his ability to defend them, mustn’t it? And that didn’t bode well for Shikamaru. However, he couldn’t help but think… the redhead was confident, yes, but just how confident was overconfident?

Shikamaru chewed on his lip uncertainly. This was his one chance. Finding Gaara again was unlikely unless he trailed him now. If he wanted to act, he had to do it now. But should he? Was it truly smart to steal from the redhead? Was it worth the risk? What even was the risk? Shikamaru didn’t know what he was up against. The gourd Gaara carried everywhere suggested that whatever was within was his main weapon, but for the life of him, Shikamaru couldn’t fathom its contents. Was it acid? Poisonous gas, maybe? It must be something very corrosive or dangerous to keep it sealed like that. But in such a case, would Gaara be willing to risk killing everyone in the market just for a test? Diplomatically speaking, that would be suicide. He was strong, of that Shikamaru had no doubt. But the question was: was he also stupid? Was he drunk on his own power, like so many others? Enough to make him careless?

Unfortunately, Shikamaru could answer none of those questions.

There was no other way to put it: Gaara was an unknown. And yet, he had a bad feeling about the redhead. But then again, Temari seemed like the smartest out of the sand siblings, and he’d managed to deal with her on his own…

For a brief moment, Shikamaru thought about quitting. The test was a pain, more than, really, and it wouldn’t be out of character for him to give up in the middle. And yet… he had tried this time. He had tried.

The thing he’d never admit to anyone was, as long as Shikamaru didn’t apply himself, as long as he didn’t put in the work, being a loser wasn’t a problem to him. He didn’t mind it at all. It was easy, being a loser. It was easy not to try. It was easy, because he would never know whether he’d have managed to live up to his families’ great expectations or not. He’d never know if he’d have made rookie of the year, if he’d have aced every test as long as he didn’t apply himself. And that, in a way, was comforting. Shikamaru closed his eyes, recalling Asuma-sensei’s typical ‘if only you tried’ spiel. It was practically the man’s catchphrase by now, ready to be dished out whenever Shikamaru was in the vicinity.

If only you tried more you could change the world, he’d drawl through the edges of his cigarette , odd tufts of smoke puffing out into the air. You could do anything you got into your head, Shikamaru. If only…

And the simple truth was, Shikamaru liked those words. He liked not trying. Because if he didn’t, then he could believe they were true.

But now… now he had tried, almost without meaning to, he had tried. And he had failed.

Shikamaru sighed for the second time, looking at the clouds overhead for comfort. He wondered what his teammates were to.

The Nara heir frowned, looking around. He really had no choice but to keep trying now that he’d started, did he? He had no choice but to win, to prove Asuma-sensei right.

He trained his eyes on Gaara, the deep black pools narrowing. It was time to put his plan into motion.

Meanwhile, the villagers had become spectators to the greatest chase that had taken place in Konoha since Uzumaki Naruto’s graduation.

“Get back here, you thief!” a certain blonde kunoichi was yelling.

The thief – or more accurately – Tenten didn’t stop running, of course, though she did cringe slightly.

God, that girl has some lungs on her, she thought with resignation. It just figured that the blonde’s loud screams would attract the other participants, and then Tenten’s escape would be even harder. That was probably the sand-kunoichi’s intention, and had Tenten been any slower, her escape would have failed by now. Right then, as she flipped from rooftop to rooftop, Tenten was glad for the first time about having waited a year before taking the chunin exams – it had given her an advantage and it clearly showed. Gai-sensei had drilled her in all things taijutsu, and that, of course, had included his infamous five-am-rooftop-races which had only ever excited Lee. However, now Tenten was thanking her lucky stars for Gai-sensei’s foresight as she effortlessly vaulted from building to building, the competition behind her struggling to keep up.

Right on cue, she noted that some of other candidates had joined the chase. Most notably: Kiba. She was realizing now that stealing his tag and ingredient (salty mangoes) had been a mistake. He and his annoying mutt had been following Tenten around nonstop, and she suspected this wouldn’t change. Unless, of course, she got rid of the mangoes.

Hiding a smirk, Tenten twisted in midair, executing a perfect flip. She could finally look her persecutors in the face. The blonde suna girl’s eyes were wide, she was closest yet still a ways off. Not too far behind were Kiba and his dog, both madly panting and raving loudly. Even further behind, Tenten could see more competitors – two of the sound guys and other strangers.

And with this, Tenten pulled out a smoke bomb and set it off. Then she aimed shuriken at everyone around her, pinning Kiba to a wall with a well-timed kunai and scattering everyone else like mad chickens. She didn’t think she’d managed to hit the blonde, but that hadn’t even been the point. Making use of the distraction, Tenten ducked into an alley quickly bolted out of there. Now… to get rid of the mangoes–!

She spotted some girl with large shopping bags and a distracted expression on her face and knew that this was it. Tenten once again bumped into the girl the same way she had the Nara, taking care to slip the salty mangoes into her shopping bag and rushed off without a second thought.

By the time Sakura Haruno had gotten up, looking around with surprise, Tenten was long gone.

What the hell was that? thought Sakura with annoyance. Seriously! People these days…

Elsewhere, Ino Yamanaka was pacing up and down in front of a line of nervous-looking genin.

“So,” she prompted expectantly. “Why did you want to join the Ino Squad?”

The candidates muttered: “To win.”

“I’m sorry? I can’t hear you!”

“To win!” They were louder this time, but it wasn’t enough.

“What, you quiet chickens?”

“TO WIN!”

Ino smirked, satisfied.

“To win!” they repeated again, without prompt.

“Heck yeah!” She fist-pumped the air. “To victory!”

Now that she’d gathered a sizable crowd (of weaklings) it was time to start recruiting stronger candidates, who would hopefully be impressed by the Ino Squad’s sheer numbers. Ino smirked to herself. And she already had the perfect person in mind…

Just then, Gaara, who had been browsing the different stalls in the market, had suddenly stopped walking. He was frozen. He couldn’t move. Someone had attacked him, had done something to him, but he didn’t know who it was. The sensation left him reeling. He’d never been trapped in his life, and the sudden lack of control over his own body was frightening… maddening. Who dared? He’d crush them! But to do that, a little voice in his head said, he’d first need to know who the attacker even was, where he was. But he couldn’t move, so he couldn’t look. To do so, he’d have to form hand-seals in order to invoke his third eye, but again, he couldn’t move. And, though Gaara had some control over his sand, he tended to use gestures and seals to help him with it. Now that he couldn’t even tell who was attacking, what was happening, where the attack was coming from – he was – he was –

Trapped.

“LET ME GO!” he roared, fighting the possession with everything he had. No one had ever gotten past his sand barrier. What kind of trickery was this?! He glanced down and saw something black stretch right over his sand; intangible. A shadow. He stared at it aghast.

There was no hiding from shadows, even behind domes of sand.

To his growing horror, Gaara’s right hand began to move of his own volition. As much as he fought, it kept moving. He could feel the monster within him begin to stir, begging for violence, for an outlet, for blood – but no, no, no, not here, not now. He had to wait, wait, wait. We must bide our time. Wait, wait, wait. He couldn’t let him take over.

The monster fought for control and Gaara fought back.

It felt like minutes of excruciating pain, but it was possibly closer to seconds. He couldn’t be sure.

When the screaming in his head abated, Gaara realized with shock that he was holding something – the cucumbers – and then he wasn’t. He had thrown them. He was in so much pain and shock that all he could do was watch as the cucumbers sailed neatly through the air… right into someone’s waiting hands.

For a moment, all he did was stare.

A ponytail, dark hair and a bland posture, an unremarkable face slightly triumphant, slightly frightened expression… that was the thief? The monster within him noticed the bloody line that crisscrossed his face, and the blood-thirst grew to unbearable levels.

The thief was an exam candidate, but Gaara barely remembered him. He was a weakling, had been his only impression, scruffy looking and with weak chakra. And this, this weakling… this weakling had stolen from him, had taken from him! He couldn’t allow it. This weakling’s existence couldn’t measure up to Gaara’s! He had to get revenge.

“GET BACK HERE!” Gaara shouted, ramming against the paralysis with all his strength, sending his sand after the weakling. But it was too late. The weakling was also a coward, for he’d taken off running. He was too far away for his sand to reach without hand gestures.

I’ll find you, thought Gaara, as he watched the other disappear. Just wait.

And with a final push, he broke the paralysis and began to run. Just you wait.

The meeting, Itachi could tell, was about to come to an end. He tried not to tense expectantly as he sat there, behind a paper partition that would mask his identity, his dishonor, waiting for the final verdict – the orders that would detail how he was to live the rest of his life. And so, there Itachi sat and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.

“You will continue your spy work until the Akatsuki are completely dismantled.” Or until you die. “You will continue to send Jiraiya bimonthly reports as we’ve discussed. You will not return to Konoha,” Danzo declared. “Are we clear?”

Itachi remained silent. Unbidden, the thought of Sakura popped into his mind. He had enjoyed his time here. He thought of his own illness and how the Konoha hospital was his only chance at a cure. He thought of the form of his sleeping little brother.

“Shinobi-kun?” Hiruzen questioned, no doubt waiting for an answer.

A part of him, Itachi realized then, had been hoping for the hokage to interfere on his behalf. To tell Danzo off, to say that of course Itachi-kun could visit every now and then as long as he was careful, hm? But the sandaime’s simple inquiry had been enough to completely disabuse him of that notion. Who was he to ask such things, anyway? He had murdered his own family. He deserved nothing but scorn and loneliness.

Sakura’s smile flashed through his mind again, guileless and naive, and he realized right then that he best stay away from her from here on out, lest he taint her like he tainted everything else. Even if she could make him smile in turn, even if she could cheer him up – that was all the more reason to keep his distance. Itachi didn’t deserve to smile. Not after what he had done.

“Agent?” Danzo barked impatiently. “I said you are not to return – ever again. Do you understand?”

Itachi’s face felt wooden as he opened his mouth to acquiesce, but another voice beat him to the punch. Only… they didn’t agree.

“Are you joking right now?!” Jiraiya of the Sannin exclaimed. “You can’t do this to him!”

“Oh?” snapped Danzo dangerously.

“Jiraiya-kun,” the hokage interrupted, his voice placating. “You must realize it’s for all our safeties…”

“Like hell it is! He should be able to come here at least for a short time! Especially if he’s ill, like he said he was!”

“He can return after completing the mission–” Hiruzen argued weakly, but Jiraiya steamrolled right over him.

“You mean the mission which he won’t survive because you won’t let him near a hospital?!”

“He can go elsewhere–”

“Are you being purposefully obtuse? If his condition is as bad as it sounds, he needs medic nin! Only hidden villages have those – Konoha is his only chance!”

“Jiraiya!” Hiruzen boomed.

And then Danzo’s cane clanked hard and loud against the wood, demanding attention. Itachi flinched. “Did you not hear the part where he could put us all in jeopardy?” the elder snapped. “The village comes first. His presence here is an unnecessary risk.”

“Not if he’s discreet it isn’t!”

“As much as it saddens me,” the hokage cut in, “that is a risk which we cannot take. I’m sorry, Jiraiya-kun.”

“You should be apologizing to him!” Jiraiya shouted, pointing at the partition. “And if you really were sorry, you’d do something about it!”

“Stop being so obstinate!” Danzo hissed.

“Stop lying!” snapped the Sannin. “Stealth isn’t the real reason you don’t want him here, is it? Just admit it, Danzo, you’ve got something to hide, and it involves him!”

Itachi stilled.

“Why you little–” Danzo began.

“I understand,” Itachi interrupted, standing to his feet. “Thank you for your concern, Jiraiya-san. I will do my duty to my village.” He felt like he was watching himself outside of his own body as he bowed mechanically to the partition. “Hokage-sama, Danzo-sama, Jiraiya-san.”

Without another word, nor another parting wave or even his customary nod – indeed, without moving at all, Itachi performed a crow-substitution and fled the sticky room.

His abrupt exit had been rude, he thought, even as he hastened away. He had never been so rude before, but what did it matter? What did it matter indeed, if he’d never return?

He realized belatedly that he had blood on his hands. He stared at them oddly. He must’ve dug his own nails into the flesh of his palm at some point. For a moment, Itachi examined his blood-stained nails. They had dark blue coat over them, as per Sakura’s recommendation. She had lobbied very intensively against aubergine purple, he could recall… Catching the fond expression that was threatening to form, Itachi schooled his features once again. He shouldn’t think about such things. The memory of Sakura was already something from the past. He had to focus on his mission. He had to get out.

Without a backward glance, Itachi raced through the rooftops towards his inn. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear to stay in Konoha. He had to leave. Now. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to breathe until he was far, far away. And for once, it had nothing to do with his lungs.

It wasn’t just that… he could recall clearly that he had never confirmed Danzo’s last order. The temptation to simply disobey was there, he acknowledged.

You can’t, a voice in his head whispered. He knew. He knew he couldn’t. It was all he knew, truly; all he had ever known: to obey. And yet… the temptation was strong. They would never know if he returned…

Itachi’s nails dug into his broken flesh again and he quickened his pace. He feared if he didn’t leave immediately, he might actually break protocol. The mere notion would’ve sent him into a tizzy back in his younger days, but now he felt so detached from it. Protocol? What a joke. He felt hate, unbidden and unwarranted, begin to boil hot within him.

He couldn’t wait to put some distance between himself and Danzo. The hokage as well. Just the sight of them had made bile raise from his stomach. It was unlikely he’d meet them again… never would be too soon.

Meanwhile, Sakura was crouched behind a fish tank in a hotel kitchen, holding her breath as she listened to an incriminating conversation. How she had gotten into this predicament, she truly didn’t know. She’d been merrily walking down the street, minding her own business when a white puppy dog had come out of nowhere and had stolen her shopping bag. Yes. The one with her dress. The dress her mother had made for her. And he’d stolen it!

Sakura had been so mad that she’d understandably given chase, even after the dog had launched up a rooftop – Sakura had followed. After all this time being scared of heights, it was odd to think she’d get over her fear because of some insolent mutt… but it was what it was. Sakura had chased the dog mercilessly, until she managed, thanks to some quick thinking on her part, to corner him into a hotel of all places, following him through the rooms and corridors, past the swimming pool and down some stairs into the private kitchens. When Sakura had finally stopped running, having reached a dead-end in the kitchens, she’d found the dog missing and her shopping bag on the floor, slobber all over the plastic… though the dress inside had been mercifully spared. She’d just been wondering what on earth for a dog would steal from her and then not take anything, when she’d heard voices approaching.

Terrified of getting caught trespassing, Sakura quickly hid behind the next closest thing – a fish tank, from which live fish were taken for cooking. Once ‘hidden’, she’d realized just how poorly hidden that was, so in a last ditch attempt, she had sloppily cast the genjutsu which Stalker-san had taught her to conceal Tora, only this time, she used it to conceal herself. It took quite a bit of concentration, and Sakura had never been gladder before that she was a quick study.

She couldn’t hear properly what the approaching people were saying, but she could sense their chakra signatures and immediately knew that they were ninja – powerful ones at that. But if you can see them, they can see you. Did that also apply for sensing?

Using all her willpower, Sakura tried to form all her chakra into a tiny ball, the way she’d seen Kakashi do, and hoped it’d be enough for them to confuse her with a fish.

“Are you sure this place is safe?” the first voice asked.

“Nothing is truly safe, Kabuto-kun,” said another voice. “But I don’t think anyone would look for us here, do you?”

The first person stilled. “They won’t be looking for you period, Oro–”

“Do not call me that!” the second person hissed. “And an ANBU caught onto me just this morning.”

“What?!”

“Yes. I luckily managed to lure him to the forest of death… dear Manda is taking care of him.”

There was a silence.

“I see… but this is worrisome, my lord. Why would an ANBU be after you?”

The first person hummed thoughtfully. “I suspect he didn’t truly think me a threat, otherwise things might have gone quite differently.” The speaker suddenly began to move and Sakura froze when she realized he was approaching the fish tank.

“So… your orders?” the second person prompted.

“Ah, yes. You don’t know yet.”

“My lord?”

“I cannot wait any longer. It will happen in three nights. Be prepared.” Lightening quick, he retrieved an eel from the water. From her vantage point, Sakura barely dared to breathe, listening as the eel flopped about wetly.

“So soon?” the second speaker echoed.

“I cannot wait. I must do this before they realize I’m here.”

“…I’ll have things ready until then.”

“Good,” said the other. The eel made some sort of screeching sound. “Do not disappoint me.”

And then – silence – except for the dying noises of the eel. Suddenly, he threw the eel to the floor, at an angle in which Sakura could see it… and its eyeless head. She remained where she was, staring at the writhing eel in abject horror. He’d taken the eyes. She kept staring long after the two speakers had left, looking on as the eel continued to quiver for minutes on end, bloody husks unseeing in its last moments.

Sakura watched transfixed as it died. It was morbid, but she couldn’t stop looking. She felt like if she did, she’d lose all her humanity. Finally, the eel’s thrashing became more faint until it stopped entirely and nothing but fluids and an empty frame were left.

Sakura lost her breakfast. It was only then that it occurred to her that she’d just been in great danger. Possibly mortal danger. What would have happened had she been caught? Sakura was so shaken by this thought that her body went on autopilot.

When she was done dry heaving and cleaning the subsequent mess – as well as the eel – it was all she could do to plop down on a bench far away from there and stare at a wall. What was that? The eyeless eel? The entire conversation?

More importantly – nothing those sketchy characters had said could confirm it – but Sakura was convinced that the ANBU who’d been lured to the forest of death, to his death, had been the nice guy from this morning. The one who had helped her. And she had sent him to his execution.

He wasn’t dead? He wasn’t dead.

This was Akiha’s only thought as he slowly came too. It was dark wherever he was. Dark and sticky and with a horrible stench. He could barely breathe. Everything hurt. He wasn’t dead, but he was dying. Then he felt the floor below him quake of its own accord, convulsing oddly… and he realized with dawning horror that it was not the floor at all.

It was the stomach walls of the snake.

His blood ran cold. He was inside a gigantic snake. The Sannin’s gigantic pet snake. He had been eaten by said snake. He tried to scramble away, but he could barely move. The sticky things on the walls hurt his fingers. He could feel blood trickling down his shirt… his liver had been pierced, he recalled. But everything hurt, not just his liver. And then he realized why: the sticky paste that was everywhere around him, those were stomach acids. The air he was breathing was toxic. The entire stomach was a deathtrap. He tried not to hyperventilate. He tried to channel chakra into his limbs to protect himself from the acid. He tried not to lose his mind.

Shakily, he used a basic wind jutsu to procure himself some clean air. It would do for an hour, maybe two. But how long could he hold out for? How long? How long? How long until he finally died? Until he became snake food?

He stared at the ceiling – snake stomach – and felt horror. No one would find him. He doubted anyone would even begin to look for him. Had the copy nin noticed his clone dispel? Would he try to check it out? Akiha knew the answer was no. After he had offended the man and his precious teamwork, he doubted that he would bother. And who else was there? No one. There was no one.

“Yo! Kakashi!” Jiraiya greeted loudly. He had found Kakashi casually reading just outside the hokage tower, concealed by an elaborate genjutsu as he perused his usual literature. The Sannin smiled. “Just the man I was looking for!”

Not even glancing up, Kakashi waved.

“Can I borrow your ninken?” the Toad Sage questioned without preamble.

Now that caught the jonin’s attention.

“What for?”

“I’m sure you know, don’t you?” Jiraiya questioned shrewdly. “After all, weren’t you here to spy on our meeting?”

Kakashi sighed, looking up momentarily from his Icha Icha. “I didn’t make it in time,” he admitted, shameless as usual. “Only managed to catch the end, when the ‘guest’ had already left.”

“So?” Jiraiya persisted. “Let me borrow your ninken?”

The jonin eyed him knowingly. “You want to find out who this mysterious guest is, don’t you?”

“You caught me.” The Sannin grinned, unrepentant, firm in his decission.

“Maaa,” Kakashi trailed off thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Jiraiya-san, but as much as I’d like to help, the pack are already on an assignment.”

Jiraiya’s eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Hm?”

Kakashi sighed. He hadn’t thought it normal that Akiha wasn’t returning, especially after his clone had dispelled so abruptly, so he’d sent his ninken to look for the kid. Considering that he didn’t have any clothing articles to go off on – just Akiha’s faint scent back from the rooftop – it was clear that it would be a hard search. However, Kakashi’s instincts were telling him not to dismiss the situation. This was actually the main reason why he’d missed most of the hokage’s secret meeting: he’d been busy finding out where Akiha lived, retrieving an object with his scent for his dogs to track and asking around for him. No one had seen hide nor hair of the ANBU for hours.

“Let’s just say I’m having them look for someone right now,” Kakashi voiced at last. “And that search takes preference.”

Jiraiya stared at him for a moment, his countenance serious. “I see. But I really need your help with this, Kakashi. Do you think you could spare a minute?”

Kakashi’s eyebrow rose. “I suppose.”

And so, Jiraiya explained his concerns about the mysterious spy, the unfair orders he had received, and exactly why they needed to find out the man’s identity in order to help him. Now, people could say many unsavory things about Jiraiya, but the fact that he was an excellent storyteller was indisputable. As was to be expected, by the time he was done, Kakashi’s face had taken on an air of resolution.

“You’re right. That person needs help.” He closed his book with a snap. “Well then…” drawled Kakashi. “I really can’t recall my pack… so how about we play a guessing game instead?”

“Ah, I see where you’re going with this. You think you know the guy?”

“It’s worth a shot. There aren’t that many S-ranked nin working for us, you know.”

Jiraiya nodded, visibly pleased. “Good, good. Whoever we’re looking for is male, has some sort of disease, and must be skilled enough to undertake solo S-ranks.” The toad sage looked at Kakashi expectantly. “So. Does anyone you know fit the bill?”

The jonin blinked slowly, as though in a trance, but then his eye cleared and he snapped to attention. “Actually… I know just the man.”

“Really?” Jiraiya slung an arm around him. “Great. Then lead the way!”

Meanwhile, Sakura was running around the village like a headless chicken. She couldn’t explain why she thought that the person she’d eavesdropped on and the Anko creeper were related – but she just – she’d never had a stronger gut feeling before! It was true. She was sure of it. Something about the situation just screamed that this was a worst case scenario, and Sakura couldn’t in good conscience not do something. At first, she’d been looking for the nice ninja who’d helped her out and was now possibly missing, but then, realizing just how much of a goose chase that was, she’d started to look for Stalker-san instead.

She’d already gone to the dango stand, to the lake, to their bench… hell, to all the places they’d been together, and yet there was not a trace of him.

Just where are you? she thought desperately. She’d looked around for Kakashi too, but finding him was even more of a fool’s errand.

Sakura chewed on her nails nervously. Losing her patience, she cupped her palms over her mouth and began to shout:

“Tetsuya! Tetsuya!”

People were staring. Sakura didn’t care. She continued to run.

Whilst all of this was happening, the other version of Kakashi, a shadow clone which had been left in charge of the exams, was spying on Ino Yamanaka and her entourage, who had gathered in an abandoned park to plan. They called themselves the Ino Squad, he thought with a giggle. He wondered what kind of face Sakura would make if she found out. As it was, the Yamanaka heiress had managed to amass a great deal of candidates together. It was rather impressive, all things considered. In record time, the blonde had tracked down every single candidate who wasn’t up on the roof and convinced them to join her movement. Given, most of them were small-fry from what Kakashi could tell, but he had also spotted the Hyuga heiress, Gai’s little clone, Choji and even the cosplaying suna groupie among the recruits, although the poor kitty looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Kakashi smiled, bemused. What a funny bunch. So far, they were the only ones who’d demonstrated even a shred of teamwork… which was unexpected, to say the least. He’d have thought Shikamaru might be the one to figure out his test. Not in a million years would Kakashi have guessed that Ino of all people would get the closest to the solution instead… though from what he could see, her approach followed no particular logic; she was completely winging it. Even so… this group was promising. Curious now despite himself, Kakashi used chakra to enhance his hearing.

“Alright, alright,” Ino was saying, speaking to the gathered genin at large, which were all gathered in a circle. “Let’s review what we know about the enemy.”

“They’ve got the sound guy,” Kankuro supplied. “He’s probably the most dangerous one of the lot, since he doesn’t need to get in a direct hit to do some serious damage. I don’t remember anyone else.”

Ino nodded, peering around. “What else?”

“Um, uh, am…” Hinata stared at the floor as she twiddled her thumbs.

“Yes, Hinata-chan?”

Under the combined scrutiny of the Ino Squad, Hinata’s face flushed beet read.

“My cousin Neji is also? Um? There?”

“That’s nice,” said Kankuro sarcastically.

“Can it, Kitty,” Ino snapped. Hyuga Neji was a force to be reckoned with, she knew. But best feign ignorance for now. Ino turned back toward Hinata. “This Neji person… what can you tell us about him?”

Hinata stared at the floor again. “Um, well he’s very strong? And smart, and um, experienced? Because he’s, um, older and…” She trailed off, noticing the looks being shot at her.

“We get it, you have a crush on him,” Kankuro drawled with an eye-roll. “Next.”

Hinata went even redder, if possible. “No, no! That’s not–!”

“It’s okay,” Ino interrupted, glaring at Kankuro. “Hinata, calm down. He’s just trying to get a raise out of you.” Hinata nodded, though she looked like she’d rather be swallowed by the earth. Kankuro snickered.

On her part, Ino suppressed a sigh. Honestly, was she the only reasonable one here?

“Alright,” she spoke up. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

“Yosh! I do!” Rock Lee exclaimed, raising his hand like a flagpole. From his hiding spot, Kakashi mentally sweat-dropped. He really was a perfect Gai replica. Did this kid have no personality of his own? It was one thing to emulate your idol, yet another thing entirely to completely copy everything about them. Though then again, Kakashi himself was known across all countries as the copy nin, so maybe he shouldn’t talk.

Meanwhile, Ino was looking at Lee expectantly. “Alright. You’re Gai-sensei’s student, right?” she asked. Team ten had information on all the local competitors, so she knew for a fact that this kid was a taijutsu machine.

The taijutsu machine in question gave her a megawatt smile. “That I am! Gai-sensei is the light of my yout– ”

“That’s great,” Kankuro deadpanned. “But get to the point, kid.”

Lee paused, his expression sobering. “It’s about Neji,” he said, an intense look in his eye.

Oh? Kakashi perked up. Neji was Lee’s teammate. Could it be that he actually had a personality of his own? That he refused to raise a hand against his friend, or something like that?

“Neji?” Ino repeated. “Um, Hinata’s cousin, right? What about him?”

“He’s my eternal rival!” Lee exclaimed. Never mind then, thought Kakashi.

“Your… eternal rival? The fuck is that, kid?”

“It means…” Lee trailed off, suddenly losing all his steam. “It means: please leave him to me. I want to be the one to fight him! Yosh! The power of youth will prevail!”

Kakashi sighed into his book. Should he have a talk with Gai about this? It wasn’t really his place… but a part of growing up was, well, to develop your own personality… and wardrobe. He frowned, trying to imagine a chat with Gai regarding his student. The kid was practically his son at this point. Kakashi sighed again. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t go over well. Best not touch the matter with a ten-foot pole then.

Meanwhile, Ino was deliberating on what to do. She didn’t want to reveal this to the other candidates, but she had information on every single Konoha applicant, and that included Neji Hyuga. Her team was the intelligence gathering squad, after all. As a condition to allow them to enter into the exams, Asuma-sensei had given them the assignment to gather intelligence on the contestants, and team ten had more than delivered. But she was getting of track. The point was: Lee’s taijutsu skills were a bad match-up against Neji’s gentle fist technique. And Ino had something else in mind for Lee anyway…

“Lee, listen to me.” Taking a cue from Sakura’s cousin, Ino stared straight into Lee’s eyes to convey the importance of her words. “A rivalry distracting us is the last thing we need right now,” she told him slowly, not unkindly. “Lee, you’re the most skilled in taijutsu out of all of us. That means, we’ll be counting on you to carry the sheets once we get them – and to carry them fast. We can’t afford to have you getting sidetracked.”

“But Ino-san!” Lee exclaimed. “My ri–”

“Listen,” Ino interrupted. “I have a rival too. I get it. But–”

“Then you should be able to respect my desire to get acknowledged by Neji once and for all!”

Ino sighed, looking away from Lee’s resolute look, toward all the candidates looking at her expectantly, and then back again.

“Look, Lee. I can sympathize, I really can. But this is about more than just you and me.” She tried for a smile, deciding to pull out her trump-card: flattery. “You need to know – the Ino Squad is counting on you, Lee. You’re the only one who can do this job. I mean it. The key of our operation is you. I.. no – we need to know whether we can depend on you fully for this.” She looked at him imploringly. “Please, Lee.”

There was a tense silence. And if Kakashi knew Gai at all, then… yep.

Lee had visibly melted. “Ino-san!” he exclaimed emotionally, tears streaming down his face. “I…” He collected himself. “Yosh!” Air fist-pump. “Then it will be my pleasure and honor to aid the Ino Squad in such an important way! I will use my hard-earned taijutsu ability to abduct the bed sheets and launch a successful escape!”

Kakashi smiled. The kid had his heart in the right place, that much was clear.

“Thanks, Lee. I really mean it.” Ino smiled, clearly relieved. “Your part in this is going to be invaluable.”

“Yeah, way to go, Lee!” some of the other candidates cheered.

“Uh, yeah,” said another. “not to interrupt or anything… but I also remember this guy with glasses… he didn’t seem like much, but he was doing pretty well all on his own. Should we worry about him?”

“The guy with the ninja cards?” the genin next to him asked. “Yes, I remember him too. He seemed pretty weak though.”

“I thought so too,” Ino chimed in. “But he wasn’t thrown off the rooftop at all. I paid attention, you know? And this guy didn’t fall, period.”

“Perhaps he was feigning weakness?” Choji offered.

Kakashi noted with interest that he wasn’t eating. His shoulders were hunched and he seemed uncertain. Clearly, the Akimichi needed a boost in confidence… but there was a fine line between that and straight out coddling. He wondered how Ino would handle him.

“You’re right, Choji…” the blonde said distractedly, clearly missing the signs. “Let’s be careful around him. He could be dangerous.”

The rest of the Ino Squad nodded their agreement.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Kankuro prompted. “This guy,” he pointed at Lee, “is our pack mule. What else?”

“Hey!” Lee bristled.

“Just ignore him,” Ino advised with an eye-roll, but her mind was on Kankuro’s question. What else? What else indeed?

It was true that she felt at ease bossing others around, but the feeling of being in control? Of people trusting in Ino’s advice the way she did Shikamaru’s? That was… new. And strangely frightening. She could suddenly understand her teammate so much better, why he fled from responsibility like that. After all, the recompense for a hard job well done, as they say, is an even harder job. More responsibility, more that can go wrong… Ino sighed. She’d always raved about wanting to be team ten’s leader, disliking that Shikamaru usually had the final say on decisions instead… but now that it was her turn to step up and take charge, she didn’t know whether she could do it. But it was too late for doubts. Now she was in too deep. Ino looked around, her gaze fitting from faze to faze, all looking rather at ease, intrigued, excited, more or less confident at least… but what did it say about her that she couldn’t mirror that sentiment? That she had to fake her confidence? That she had to straight out lie to everyone? She had gathered them all with great promises of success, raised their expectations, given them hope to pass… Shit. She, she couldn’t let them down. Not now.

A few minutes before this, Itachi had returned to the inn. He was now packing. Meanwhile, Karasu, or Shi-chan, or whatever he was currently calling himself, was sitting upon the window-ledge at the other end of the room, looking on disapprovingly.

“Caw! So you’re just going to up and leave? Caw!”

Itachi ignored him, checking the room to make sure he had everything.

“You’re leaving. Caw. Just like that. Without saying goodbye?”

Itachi snapped open a storage scroll and transferred all of the items that belonged to his Tetsuya persona into it hastily. Then he began to fold them all into perfect little squares, methodically layering one upon the other, one upon the other, one upon the other…

“Itachi-dono. Caw. Don’t ignore me!”

At this, Itachi slammed the wardrobe door shut with a loud bang and threw his bag upon the bed. All the clothes he had been folding spilled out in a wrinkled mess.

“Itachi-dono. You’re acting human-like. Caw. It’s odd.”

Itachi shoved the rumpled clothes into a scroll with an aggravated snap of his hand, then activated it with yet another snap. The resulting cloud of smoke indicated that he had used a lot more chakra than was necessary.

“What about Sakura-chan? Caw. Won’t you say goodbye?”

Itachi moved to his shinobi gear and began to put it all into a different scroll, handling the dangerous objects with rough carelessness.

“You should be careful, Itachi-dono. Caw. Caw. Blood can be tracked.”

Itachi stilled, his movements stopping. He had turned his head slightly, exposing part of his let eye and his jaw, which was clenched hard.

“What about your annoying otouto? Caw.”

Unexpectedly, Itachi suddenly whirled around, glared at the crow, and threw a crate at him.

Shi-chan dodged with a shriek, but not without glaring right back. The crate fell out of the window, dropping dango everywhere.

“Oi! That’s littering!” someone yelled.

“Itachi-dono. That’s a dango crate you threw. Caw.”

Itachi had turned back around and was packing again.

“It still had dango in it, Itachi-dono. Caw.”

“Will you shut your beak!” Itachi snapped so suddenly that Shi-chan stopped beating his wings in midair. He was panting heavily.

“Itachi-dono. Your breading is irregular. Caw. Are you okay? Caw. Human breathing patterns are–”

“Please,” Itachi interrupted. “I wish to be alone, Karasu.”

Shi-chan stopped fluttering about and looked at Itachi for a long time. He cocked his head, as though thinking. “So you won’t say goodbye? Caw.”

Itachi glared at him quietly and resumed packing. Shi-chan regarded him for a moment longer, a sad tilt to his head. The, wordlessly, he turned around and left through the window.

Notes:

Akiha's alive! Surprise xD
Lol keeping quiet about that has been so difficult these past few days. I completely duped you lmao
But tbh guys, I spent so much freaking time revising over Akiha's scenes, trying to make him into a likeable, interesting character... My first version of him was apparently a right asshole, so I had to work on that. Gave me a lot of grief. So you guys liking him... err, mourning him... made me so happy, you can't even imagine it. But yes, he's alive.
Other things worth mentioning... I'm kinda surprised no one freaked out last chapter about Ino developing a crush on Itachi. I personally thought it was hilarious, cackle-worthy stroke of genius...
Last but not least, you might be wondering what will happen to chapter lengths from now on? Well, turns out the vote was a tie. I'm still shocked about that. So yeah, seeing as most of the ppl voting for long said they wouldn't mind shorter chapters either, here you go :P
You can expect part two of this in about two weeks (again, without proofreading...)
On another note, I ended up getting some normal story-related reviews on my last authors note, so now I don't want to delete it anymore :( That would be an insult to anyone who commented, and I really treasure all of my comments. So I decided to make that chapter into something I'd been planning to do anyway, namely to add it around the end of the story and use it to give a general rundown on cannon deviation, some of the finer plot-points, and as a way to dismantle supposed plot holes my story has (because answering to the same critiques gets a bit tiring, so I'll just answer once, thoroughly, and leave it at that). So if you're the type that's interested in the why's and the what's, go check that out. It'll be up soon. I'll call it /PLOT POINTS/ and move it around so that chapter is always at the end.
Anyway, you know comments give me life, so leave me one if you want me to write faster ;)
Thanks for reading!

 

Chapter 10: Into the Forest

Summary:

Of butterflies, corpses and snakes. Plus: a bad patient.

Notes:

I am finally freeeeee my lads! Hell yes! And to celebrate, here you go! New chapter! Loads of stuff happening here. Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

To be honest, since she’d started this whole campaign, Ino had kept waiting for Kakashi to appear and scold her for cheating. She was, after all, completely disregarding the groups and basically the entire point of the warfare-like exam by unifying the candidates. But Kakashi hadn’t appeared yet, so that was good, wasn’t it? No news is good news and all that? She didn’t know.

There were about twenty four or so genin in the Ino Squad. And while she appreciated their strength in numbers, it also meant that talking to them all was pretty intimidating.

So she turned back toward the other candidates and tried to sound more confident than she felt as she explained her plan:

“Well… to answer your question, Kankuro, my original idea was to cause some kind of distraction to, um, you know, distract them…”

Ugh. Could you be any more awkward? Ino could almost hear Sakura snipe. Get a grip, pig!

But she’d be right. Get a grip, Ino.

“We distract them and then what?” Kankuro asked.

“Right,” Ino coughed. “So while they’re distracted, Lee swoops in and takes the sheets. Then we beat a hasty retreat and reconvene later on. That’s the… gist of it.” She looked around searchingly, but she couldn’t tell what everyone else was thinking. “Does anyone else have any better ideas?”

No one said anything.

“Uh, great.” Ino chuckled awkwardly into the silence. “Then… distraction it is.”

After yet another minute of quiet, Kankuro thankfully came to her aid:

“So, blondie. How are we doing this then? We’re going to need some kind of strategy to tackle the sound guy, at least. We may have strength in numbers now, but still.”

Ino nodded. Again, he was right. If only Shikamaru were here… she was good at reading people, not battles. Almost as though to agree with her thoughts, Ino suddenly noticed Hinata shifting around in her seat uneasily… almost like she wanted to object to something. So, guessing what the girl was thinking, Ino added: “Yes, we need a strategy. But not just for the sound guy – Hinata’s cousin’s there too. And the glasses guy.”

Hinata seemed to calm at that and Ino felt her stomach fill with pride.

Nice going, girl. Now I just need to not be a failure. Easy, right?

“I’m handling the sound guy,” Kankuro said immediately, snapping her back to planning-mode.

Trying to channel her inner-Shikamaru, Ino frowned.

“On your own? But didn’t he beat you already? What are even your skills, Kankuro?”
“Hey! He just caught me unawares, that’s all!”

“Right.”

“It’s the truth!”

Ino sighed. “Alright then. So what are your awesome skills, if that’s the case?”

Kankuro’s nose scrunched up, giving the impression that he’d rather not say, but finally he relented: “Puppets. You familiar with the suna puppeteer brigade?”

Ino had heard about it, yes, so she nodded thoughtfully. “Long range combat, huh? You’re right. That’s a good match-up. If you manage to hold the sound guy in place, I can take over his body.”

Ino had almost forgotten that this was supposed to be a big deal as the entire Ino Squad stared at her with wide eyes.

“You can posses him?” Kankuro asked faintly, looking somewhat alarmed.

Ino smirked, feeling suddenly a little more confident. “That’s right, Kitty. But I’ll need someone to take care of my body while I’m within the sound guy’s mind.”

“I can do that!” another candidate offered. He was a known pervert.

Ugh. Ino frowned. She wanted to snap something rude at the guy, who was no doubt entertaining thoughts of groping her while she was out of her body, but she held back. Ino was the one in charge here; she couldn’t just throw a tantrum. She had to be responsible. Who would’ve thought she’d see the day?

“I’d rather it was someone with some kind of concealment ability,” Ino said after a moment. “Does anyone have any skill like that?”

Another boy raised his hand. This one, Ino knew from the Academy. He was one of the only other civilians besides for Sakura who’d managed to become a genin, one year before them. What was his name again? Makoto?

“I can do a decent concealment genjutsu,” Makoto spoke up. “But it takes a lot of concentration, so… while I can carry you, Ino-san, I’d probably need some help to fend off anyone who did see us.”

“I’ll do the punching!” another girl interrupted. Unfortunately, Ino had the displeasure of knowing her too. She was the disgusting bully who had terrorized Sakura back when they were little. Back in the day, Ino and this girl, Ami, had gotten into very vicious fistfights when Sakura wasn’t looking, but that had been a long time ago. If Amy was going to act civil… then Ino could have the same courtesy.

She straightened her spine. “Alright then, Makoto-san… and Ami, was it?”

The two nodded.

“Alright,” Ino repeated, sucking in a fortifying breath. “Then… I’m in your care.” Ino flashed them an attempt at a trusting smile while mentally praying that this wasn’t a huge mistake. What was she even doing? She longed for her team to be there for her, not some strangers.

“Um, uh, mmm…” Hinata stuttered suddenly. “Ino-san… could I… um, could you leave Neji-nii-san to me?”

Ino blinked, surprised. “Are you… sure?”

Hinata didn’t look sure at all, but she nodded. “I have an idea to, um, defeat him? B-but…” her eyes fitted around nervously. “I would need someone to – to distract him first? Um, because he can see chakra? So… so a lot of people would have to s-surround him so that he doesn’t… see so, um, clearly anymore?”

With all the stuttering, Ino wasn’t sure whether she’d gotten everything… but she thought she’d understood the gist of it. “So…” she ventured, appraising Hinata. “You want to, like, saturate Neji’s byakugan with so much chakra around him that he won’t notice you approaching?”

Hinata nodded, a fierce look on her delicate face that Ino had never seen before. The blonde smiled. Looks like Hinata has some fight in her after all, she thought with pleased surprise.

“Alright then, Hinata,” she decided. “I’m trusting you with this.”

The shy girl smiled, looking truly happy at the vote of confidence. Ino grinned back, but then she paused. “Wait, how many people are you going to need for this again?”

Hinata fidgeted. “I… I’d say… maybe ten?”

Oof. That was a lot. Ino shifted around uncomfortably. “Well… alright,” she said uncertainly. “We can do that. Ten people who feel like helping take out Hinata’s cousin, please raise your hands!”

 

 

Once that had been agreed upon, the remaining genin were split accordingly, until finally, only Choji remained. He looked a little uncertain at not having been picked, a little crestfallen… poor guy. Ino’s heart went out to him. She’d completely forgotten about her normally quiet teammate, which was just so… unfair. She knew he had self-esteem issues, damn it! She was supposed to be good at noticing these things!

“Choji,” Ino said, trying to play it cool. “Um. I left you for last because your job is the only one I was clear on since the beginning, so yeah.”

The Akimichi seemed to visibly perk up at this, so there was that. But he looked a little uncertain still. “So… what is it, Ino?”

“It’s easy on paper, but it’s probably not going to be in real life.” Ino explained, trying to make it sound cool. Then she nodded toward Lee. “As I said, this whole operation is riding on our, ah, runner to remain undetected. Choji, you’ll be in charge of making sure of that, got it? He needs to get away safely and with the sheets, that’s our top priority. Ino paused, looking into Choji’s eyes to communicate how important this was. The boy nodded. “Choji. Listen. Offensively, you’re one of our strongest fighters, and your jutsu also makes for a great distraction. You’re perfect for this job. So do whatever you have to do to make this work.”

Choji nodded, smiling just the slightest bit.

Seeing his expression made Ino feel things. Wow, I rock, she thought to herself. Motivational speech? Check. She totally deserved a promotion just for that.

“Oh? And Makoto-kun?”

The ginger-haired kid jumped, startled.

“Uh, yes?”

Ino suppressed a giggle at his reaction. Trying to sound businesslike was hard, honestly. She coughed. “Until I need my body protected, could you try to cast a genjutsu to keep Lee out of sight?”

Makoto nodded. “Of course. I wish I could do more.”

Ino waved him off. Then she grinned. “Also, Lee… you’re going to have to change into something a little less… neon green. No genjutsu could cover that up.”

 

Lee looked a little crestfallen at that, but soon enough, his megawatt grin was back on his face.

“Ino Squad, we can do this! YOSH!”

Ino laughed. “Heck yeah!”

“U-un!” Hinata added timidly.

“To victory!” Ino cheered.

“To victory!” the others repeated. (“And the Power of Youth!”)

Kankuro, meanwhile, inched away slightly. “If anyone asks, I don’t know who you are.”

Ino laughed. “Bad Kitty! Don’t be so grumpy!”

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Pfft! Paid? You’re not getting paid at all,” drawled Ino. “Ah, if only!”

Except he was getting paid. Kankuro’s expression sobered then. If only they knew what was coming…

 

 

 

 

“Looks like it wasn’t our man after all,” Jiraiya said despondently after a moment of silence.

He and Kakashi had just visited a jonin named Hayate, who was a terminal cancer patient. He had kept taking missions even in spite of his condition, insisting that he wanted to keep living normally ‘til the end, but after talking to him, it had become clear that he couldn’t be the spy.

“I thought for sure it’d be him…” Kakashi said apologetically.

“It was worth a shot,” the Sannin told him. “But we should keep looking…” he paused. “Now that I think of it, this person sounded like they’d been stationed in the field for a long time. Do you think our man could be staying at an inn?”

Kakashi looked at him appreciatively. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.”

“It was remiss of me not to mention that he had likely been at the field before coming here,” Jiraiya said. “What now? Do we search every inn?”

Kakashi paused. “No,” he said slowly, fiddling in his pocket and subsequently producing a map. “There are various areas with inns…” He trailed off, pointing them out in the map. “If my guess is correct, hokage-sama wouldn’t have wanted our guest to stay somewhere with a lot of foreigners lest they recognize him.” His index moved across the map. “That means he’s most likely staying at the civilian district… nowhere too shady nor too expensive… preferably away from the main streets… preferably out of the way of rooftop traffic…”

“Rooftop traffic?” Jiraiya guffawed.

Kakashi glared.

“Right, sorry, sorry. Please continue.”

The jonin sighed. “There are only a few inns which meet all these requirements. If we hurry, we can check them all in under an hour.”

“Then let’s go!”

And so, the search for Itachi began in earnest.

 

 

 

 

In the meantime, Sakura had been shouting wildly as she ran through the village in her own frantic search. Just then, she suddenly spotted a crow flying right toward her. A very familiar crow with a very familiar scar on its beak…

“Shi-chan!” she exclaimed. “Shi-chan, over here!”

“I can see you, human. Caw. No need to shout.”

Sakura stared, open-mouthed.

“My summoner is being worrisome. Caw. He is beside himself. Caw.”

Sakura’s brain finally caught up to her: “You can TALK? Are you kidding me?”

The crow stared at her wordlessly, perching on her arm.

Sakura shrugged it off, the sense of urgency returning to her. “Alright, whatever. Listen, Shi-chan. Do you know where I can find–?”

Before she could finish her sentence, Shi-chan had taken off flying at breakneck speed.

Without hesitating, Sakura sprinted after him.

 

 

A moment later, they had stopped before an inn. Sakura didn’t understand. Was Stalker-san staying there? Say what? Didn’t he live in Konoha? But she couldn’t stop to question it because by then Shi-chan had already circled around the back and flown into the building through a specific window. Stopping in her tracks, Sakura stared at the open window a little uncertainly. This felt like breaking in, like a breach of privacy… but no. This was important. Someone’s life could be on the line. And so, with a mighty push of her chakra, she ricocheted straight in.

 

 

At that very second, Itachi had just opened said window to leave, and had poked his head out until –

“OW!”

Sakura’s forehead collided with his like a derailed bullet train.

…was he dreaming?

Itachi stared at Sakura’s apparition, wide-eyed, and only just managed to catch her before she fell out of the window. At the last second, he had instinctively coated his head protectively with chakra, but Sakura had had no such foresight, and was now clutching at it in pain as she rolled around the floor.

Itachi continued to stare, absolutely floored. Those bloodstains on the carpet would be a nightmare to get out, he thought faintly. He was half tempted to use kai, just in case this was some odd genjutsu he’d been caught in. But then he saw Shi-chan, who was practically radiating smugness, and then he understood – and nearly threw another dango box at him. He had brought Sakura here? Had he no understanding of discretion? Of wanting to be left alone? His hand twitched toward another dango box, but he refrained.

Calm down, Itachi. This isn’t like you.

 

Instead, he looked at Sakura again. Her forehead was bleeding, she was whimpering in pain, and her entire shirt was soaked with blood. Head injuries bleed a lot, he knew. But that didn’t stop Itachi from panicking as he went into a frenzy looking for tissues and ice. Now he had to reopen all of his poorly-packed scrolls to look for the medic kit, throwing them haphazardly about as he ransacked his entire arsenal, but he did it in record time.

In under twenty seconds, he had located the bandages and was crouching before Sakura.

“Here, hold this to your face,” he said urgently, as he quickly bit into a bit of gauze tape to prepare a makeshift bandage. Sakura had stopped crying, though her eyes were still tightly shut. And thank god for that, because Itachi, who had been about to leave, had already been attired in his Akatsuki outfit, complete with the slashed forehead protector. He'd been about to cover it with a hat and a genjutsu, but if Sakura had seen... he shuddered to think of the consequences. Thankfully, he'd been wearing civilian clothes beneath the cloak, so Itachi quickly shrugged it off, pocketed the forehead protector and hastily retrieved his glasses and even the bandana. After such a close call, he'd rather not take any chances. Thankfully, Sakura's mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“Did… did you see that?” she asked after a while of pressing an ice pack to her forehead.

“See what?”

“I finally got over my fear of heights!” Sakura beamed, looking remarkably chipper, considering.

Itachi blinked dumbly. “Are you concussed?” He started bandaging her forehead for good measure.

Sakura kept smiling at him, even as her blood continued to ruin the floor. “I jumped two stories high just now! Didn’t you see?” she exclaimed. “Without any help at all!”

Despite himself, Itachi chuckled. “That’s good.” He pressed his hand against the bandage, giving the knot a final tug. It was done. “Are you feeling better now?”

Sakura shot him a smile and a made peace sign. “Now that I’ve found you! I was looking all over the place, you know…” Her expression shuttered, as though suddenly having remembered something.

“What is it?” Itachi questioned. Had he missed something? Was she concussed after all?

“You need to help me!” Sakura exclaimed suddenly. “I think someone’s in mortal peril! We've got to look for him! At the forest of death!”

“But, I…”

“Quick! Now!” she said hurriedly. “You’re a strong ninja, aren’t you? You have to help!”

And without giving Itachi any more time to question it, she snatched his arm and began to drag him toward the window. He could barely repack all his scrolls yet again and stow them away in a hurry and then they were out of the inn. The floor was surely permanently damaged.

 

Once on the street, Sakura started to run without prompt, dragging Itachi by the arm, an agitated expression on her face. Her worry was contagious.

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, on the rooftop in front of the inn stood Jiraiya and Kakashi, both examining the building critically.

“You think he’s here?” the Sannin asked.

“Hmm… we’ll have to go in and find out… ask about the residents,” Kakashi replied. “And do it right this time.”

“Should I disguise myself?” Jiraiya muttered. This was the second inn they were checking… after the owner had kicked them out of the first one upon recognizing Jiraiya as the hotsprings pervert.

“Oh, look. That’s my student,” Kakashi said, completely disregarding his question. “Sakura-chan. She’s got my ninken wrapped around her little finger.”

Jiraiya glanced at Kakashi, surprised. Then he followed his gaze.

“She looks like she’s in a hurry,” he commented, looking at the girl curiously… and at the elder teen she was practically manhandling behind her. “Wonder who that poor sod is?”

Kakashi eyed the teen with disinterest, taking in his civilian clothes, small chakra reserves, glasses, and most notably, the fact that he was letting a thirteen-year-old girl drag him about, and shrugged.

“Probably a civilian. Maybe her cousin? Second cousin?”

Meanwhile, Itachi had of course realized just who was watching him and was freaking out. It was the reason why he had concealed most of his chakra and adopted a civilian gait… but unfortunately there was nothing he could do about his illness. Perhaps it was the nerves, but of course his lungs decided to act up right then and he just had to go and break into a horrible coughing fit. He was more than a little horrified as Sakura stopped running, leaving them standing right there, like sitting ducks beneath the danger. Itachi tried to shake his head, to tell her to keep going, but his lungs were being uncooperative. Sakura, meanwhile, was looking at him worriedly and patting his shoulder. “You okay?”

No, he was most definitely not okay, he thought as he tried to strategically double over in a way that would hide his face.

Meanwhile, Jiraiya and Kakashi were looking on with pity.

“Poor fellow,” Jiraiya commented.

“Hmm…” Kakashi wasn’t even looking at him. “I wonder what happened to Sakura’s forehead…”

 

 

Down below, Itachi was thanking his lucky stars for Sakura. If they’d caught him at the inn, something told him that this encounter would’ve gone very differently. Not to mention, he mused wryly, Sakura was his best disguise. Literally. Even better than his glasses. After all, no one would expect a dangerous criminal to hang out with pink-haired preteens in his free time. It was perfect.

“Feeling better?” Sakura asked, looking worried.
Itachi smiled at her, though more because he felt smug at having hoodwinked Kakashi-senpai. “Yes, let’s go.”

A little uncertain, Sakura nodded, and together they took off.

“Really. Doesn’t he know a thing about the flu?” Kakashi mused. “It’s not healthy to do so much exercise when sick. What a bad patient.”

Jiraiya snorted. “Whatever. We still have four inns to go, so let’s hurry.”

 

 

 

 

Minutes later, Sakura and Itachi had made it to the entrance of The Forest of Death.

“Are you sure this is it?” she asked, staring worriedly at the creepy trees beyond the fence.

Itachi frowned, turning back toward her.

“It is. You should stay here. I’ll go.”

“No!” Sakura exclaimed. “I’m coming too. I have to help!”

“If you come with me,” Itachi said slowly, “then you must stay by my side at all times. Do you understand?”

Sakura nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Very well then,” he muttered, looking at her seriously. “Please pay attention to this, Sakura.”
The genin looked at him oddly, but then she felt his chakra do something strange. What?

“You flared your chakra?” she guessed.

“Yes,” Itachi confirmed. “This particular pattern is an SOS signal. If you are in danger, I want you to do it.”

Sakura nodded, resolute. “Like this?” She tried to flare her own chakra experimentally. After a few tries, she had the distress signal down pat.

“Good,” Itachi said. “Your chakra reserves are small, so you must flare all of it when in danger.”

Sakura bit her lip. Things were getting a little too real for comfort, but there was no turning back now. “I will. But hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Itachi nodded. “Let’s go.”

And without further ado, they entered the forest.

 

 

 

The Forest of Death was the epitome of what a creepy forest should look like. It gave Sakura the hibbie jibbies, and the more they advanced into its murky depths, the more uncertain she felt. It was also lucky that she had managed to master chakra jumps that morning, because that meant she and Itachi didn’t have to stay on the forest floor and could instead travel through the tree branches. Apparently, Itachi had sent out his crows and was using them to scout the area.

“You can see through their eyes?” Sakura asked curiously.

“Yes, though it takes a lot of my attention,” he replied distractedly. Then he suddenly tensed. “A pack of fire wolves is in that area. We need to turn around.”

 

 

A moment later they were walking upon the forest floor, because apparently, fire wolves were very territorial about the tree branches. Sakura’s feet hurt from all the running she’d been doing, and she felt like the forest was too large to find much of anything. What if she had been wrong?

She flared her chakra in the SOS signal again, hoping that some stray ANBU would notice and come to their aid. They really could use some extra help.

Itachi twitched.
“Will you stop that?” he said tersely. “The distress signal is for emergencies only!”

“I’m trying to see if I can get us help,” Sakura snapped. She wanted to be of use too, damn it!

Itachi clicked his tongue. “You’ve been flaring it for fifteen minutes; no one will come.”

“You don’t know that!”

Without saying anything else, Itachi turned around and continued walking, a scowl on his face.

What’s with him? thought Sakura, annoyed. Who pissed in his cereal this morning?

It was then that a strange butterfly fluttered toward her.

Awww, how pretty!

Sakura watched it curiously as it approached, finally settling on her forehead. She tried to look at it, though she obviously couldn’t see it. It was after a long moment of thought that she realized – the butterfly was drinking her blood.

Horrified, Sakura jumped away and squeaked. She waved her hand at her forehead in a fright until the vampiric butterfly thankfully got the hint and fluttered off. Sakura followed it with her eyes. She wondered… if it was attracted to blood, did that mean it would lead her to the person they were looking for? Maybe the poor guy was bleeding out somewhere?

It’s worth a shot! she thought excitedly. Making sure to flare her chakra to inform Itachi of her decision as she went, Sakura trudged after the butterfly… deeper and deeper into the most dangerous part of the forest.

 

 

By the time Itachi realized she was missing, it was much too late. He had felt her flare her chakra, yes, but after twenty minutes of her continuously doing so, the signal hadn’t even registered; it hadn’t been enough to break his concentration on the crow-controlling jutsu. And now Sakura was missing.

It somehow didn’t sink in until he had had his crows comb through his surroundings and yet – they were empty. She was gone. Disappeared without a trace, as though she’d been swallowed by the earth… nothing was left.

“Sakura?” Itachi called, his heart sinking a mile a minute. “Sakura, where are you?”

 

 

 

Sakura, meanwhile, was walking through a dark, shadowed forest path, following an entire array of vampire butterflies which glowed in the darkness. More and more of them kept joining the odd procession, and Sakura was sure that she was onto something here. But then the butterflies stopped, fluttering towards something in the middle of an approaching clearing. Sakura hastened towards it. The strange object was completely covered in butterflies, to the point where she couldn’t see what it was. Once she got a little closer, all the butterflies dispersed. And it was then she noticed… the strange object was a body. A person. A decomposing person.

Bugs of all sizes and shapes were circulating around shallow skin, flies buzzed through blood-matted hair, rats scurried under the legs…

And that's when she saw – the skin of their face was missing.

For the second time that day, Sakura felt the urge to retch. Just as she was about to leave, to run away, to get help… the ground beneath her began to quake, suddenly elevating high, high, higher – and Sakura realized that she was standing upon something scaly. Something alive. Something like, like… like a giant snake.

A scream left her throat as the snake’s head turned, staring at her through mustard yellow eyes, hungry and dangerous.

Sakura inched back, trying to flare her chakra, clinging fearfully its back, for she was too high up, she wouldn’t survive the fall. In that moment, Sakura was so nervous, so terrified, that she’d completely forgotten the SOS pattern Itachi had taught her. Oh, no. Oh, no, she thought frantically. She reached into her pouch, chugging all of her shuriken at the snake.

They bounced off like rubber balls.

She tried with kunai, but it was the same.

The snake lunged toward her, jaws wide open. Sakura screamed and threw another kunai at it, but nothing could put the beast to a stop. Terrified beyond belief, Sakura screeched once more, couldn’t stop screaming – twisted to dodge poisonous fangs – and next second… she was inside the snake.

She was inside of the snake, as in, it had eaten her.

She was falling down its slippery, horrible gullet, screaming and thrashing still.

And in that moment, Sakura knew: she was done for.

 

Meanwhile, Itachi stopped moving. “Did you hear that?” he asked. Next to him, Karasu was looking on questioningly. But Itachi could swear he had heard a scream. But from where? He looked around frantically. It was then that he heard a panting sound and, seconds later, Bull broke through the foliage. For a moment, Itachi and the dog just stared at each other. Then they simultaneously moved.

“Bull,” Itachi said, stepping closer. “Bull, you need to help me find Sakura. Now.”

Bull didn't need to be told twice. Without wasting a second, he began to sniff the ground and took off. Heart beating wildly in his rib cage, Itachi followed.

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Sakura had managed to stop slipping down the literal hole, though she was still screaming. It was pitch black and she couldn’t see anything. Fear of the darkness was nothing compared to fear of a pitch black, unending tunnel that was actually a snake’s insides.

It was only thanks to her superior chakra control that she managed to somehow stick to one of the walls, stopping the downward spiral into death. Sakura breathed heavily as she tried to calm down. The parts of her skin that were touching the walls hurt, but she knew she couldn’t focus on that now. By the time she’d finally managed to slow her breathing, she realized that she couldn’t see …but she could sense chakra. And right then, she sensed something. It was weak, it was dying, it was a human.

Could it be?

“Is anyone there?” Sakura stuttered, horrified.

“H-here,” someone croaked. Their voice was so weak that she could barely distinguish it, but she thought that this was very possibly the person she’d been looking for. Sakura tried to crawl toward him, though this wasn’t easy thanks to the acidic stomach walls. Nevertheless she persisted, coating her feet and knees with as much chakra as she could and filling her lungs to the brim with chakra. She could barely breathe at all as it was, and if it hadn’t been for the respiratory enhancement technique Stalker-san had taught her, she’d be dead already. And so Sakura persisted in her slow, arduous crawl up the snake’s gullet. If someone had asked her later on, she wouldn’t have been able to say how she did it… but somehow, she made it to the other ninja’s side.

“A-are you okay, shinobi-san?”

“N-never better,” the other muttered.

Sakura cringed. “I’m so, so, sorry…”

“Please,” the other wheezed. “Get us out of here.”

She only wished she could. But how?

And then Sakura remembered: Yuna’s explosive tag. She still had it in her pouch! If she detonated it… would it be enough to open the snake from the inside? But how were they going to survive such a direct explosion?

“I, um, I have an explosive tag on me,” Sakura ventured hesitantly.

“Doesn’t work,” said the other person. “I’ve already tried…”

“But…” Sakura paused, recalling how peculiar the tag was, how Yuna had remarked it was for desperate situations only. Well, this one more than qualified, didn’t it. “This tag is different…” Sakura argued uncertainly. “It’s really strong. I don’t… I don’t think we can resist the blast.”

The other ninja was quiet.

“Sh-shinobi-san?”

“…can you use chakra coating?” he asked roughly. Chakra coating? Was that why he had stayed alive for so long, even despite the snake’s toxic acids?

Sakura shook her head mutely, then remembered he couldn’t see her. Focusing on sensing him, she could tell that he was doing something odd with his chakra… concentrating it around his body in swirling patterns that felt sort of compact… if that was a word for it? Like there was a great chakra density on the surface of his skin? Was that chakra coating? It felt almost like an armor, so to speak. An armor made of chakra. But would something seemingly intangible work against such an explosion…?

This was hardly the time to learn any new skills, but Sakura hardly had a choice in the matter as she began trying to replicate the technique. It was a hard concept to grasp, and, had she not been able to sense the other’s chakra so clearly, she’d have been unable to. But somehow, she managed it. At least, she thought she had, adding layers upon layers of her own chakra to her so called armor. It was so much chakra that she could probably only keep this up for a minute, at most, but even so, she didn’t have the largest reserves out there. Would it be enough?

“Hurry,” the shinobi croaked.

He was right. They didn’t have much time. Breathing heavily, Sakura retrieved Yuna’s gift.

“A-alright,” she stuttered fearfully, crawling toward the other ninja. “Sh-shinobi-san, I’m about to activate the tag…”

Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around him. He was barely breathing anymore, and his chakra armor was weak in some places – he must be very close to death.

Sakura hesitated, fingering Yuna’s tag. What if it didn’t work? What if she hadn’t grasped chakra coating? Or if it wasn’t enough? She was painfully aware of the consequences.

“Come on…” the shinobi rasped. “Do it.”

He was right. She had to be strong.

Be strong, Sakura.

And then, without allowing herself to think more on it, Sakura activated the tag. She waited, terrified, until the very last second, and then she threw it as far and fast as she could up the snake’s gullet, screaming “shannaroooo” as she wrapped her arms around the other ninja and braced herself.

A beat, just one, of absolute silence, where everything seemed to stop.

And then the world ended.

There was a blast so loud she couldn’t hear it, so bright she couldn’t see it, some ungodly sound the snake made, the tearing of its very scales, of wind, of everything, and then Sakura lost all sense of where she was. She was flying, she could tell. She couldn’t sense anything but the blast, the huge blast, the humongous amount of chakra that had been dispelled – she was worried she’d hit her head if she kept falling, she could barely keep it together –

And then someone caught her.

The person’s chakra was familiar – it was Itachi.

This was all Sakura needed to know to pass out.

She was safe.

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Kakashi received a message.

One minute later, he was running into the hospital.

Shikaku Nara was already there, in the waiting room of the ICU. They were alone, but they could both feel at least eight chakra signatures inside, one of them fading in and out like a dying lamp. Without needing to know Akiha very well, Kakashi immediately placed it as his.

“Thank you,” Shikaku said roughly.

Kakashi shook his head. “I didn’t find him. It must’ve been someone else.”

“You raised the alarm,” Shikaku replied. “You’re the one who warned everyone that he was missing… whoever has found him must’ve done so thanks to you.”

Kakashi wanted to deny it, to say that he had reacted way too slowly, that he shouldn’t have helped Jiraiya, that this was all his fault – as usual – but he refrained. Now wasn’t the time.

“What happened to him?” he asked instead. He didn’t want to be a bother, but he needed to know.

Shikaku’s lip pursed. “The higher-ups are keeping it quiet.”

“Even from you?”

“Yes.”

That couldn’t be. As far as Kakashi knew, Shikaku already was very much a higher-up.

If even he, who seemed to have some sort of familiar tie to Akiha, was being kept in the dark… just what was happening? Beyond Nara Shikaku, there was only Itona Takenaka – the ANBU commander – as well as Danzo and the hokage himself.

But Shikaku was jonin commander. He should have clearance. More so if Akiha was a Nara, and judging by his presence in the waiting room, someone he knew well. And yet, he was still being kept in the dark. Kakashi’s instincts told him that whatever the reason for that was, it was bad news. His instincts told him he had better prepare himself.

 

 

 

 

Both shinobi were too distracted with their own thoughts and worries to notice Itachi’s carefully-woven concealment genjutsu as he slipped past them, carrying Sakura. She had received severe lacerations over her entire body – nothing life-threatening, but still cause for concern. He should’ve already brought her to the medics, yet Itachi had waited. He felt terrible about that, but he’d had no choice: he couldn’t allow anyone to establish a connection between the forest’s events and Sakura. Not only to protect her, but also his own cover.

She needed treatment, yes, but he couldn’t afford for it to be at the hospital. If he brought her to the regular shinobi or even civilian care units, Kakashi or Danzo would be onto him in seconds. And Danzo discovering his connection with Sakura was almost worse than Kakashi blowing his cover. No, he couldn’t let that happen.

Taking all of this into account, Itachi knew what he had to do. There was only one thing, really. He had to bring Sakura to Yuna, he had to wipe Sakura’s memories of the forest, and he had to do it soon. He knew that if Sakura remembered, she’d tell Kakashi at the very least, unwittingly involving herself in matters that were too dangerous to be involved in, and also mentioning Itachi’s presence, which couldn’t be worse timing. Danzo taking an interest in Sakura was also the last thing he wanted, if the man’s track record was anything to go by. Intelligent children that would not be missed were the man’s sustenance, he knew. And, though he had been spared the worst of it, he had undergone some of ROOT’s conditioning. And so, Itachi concluded, feeling a stab of guilt in his chest, for her own sake as well as his, he would have to lie to Sakura, manipulate her very mind, abuse her trust… He hated himself for it, but he knew he’d do it. And, Itachi added with trepidation, he would have to lie to Danzo in his report. He had never lied to a superior before. Lying to Danzo would be even harder, due to the seal the elder had placed on his tongue to insure his truthfulness during the events of the Uchiha coup. But a lie by omission (Sakura’s) should be doable… He also needed to wipe Bull's memory of the incident, he added mentally. Shit.

And so, instead of leaving Sakura in the gentle care of the nurses, Itachi ran toward Yuna’s shop. He hoped she’d be equipped enough to deal with these kinds of injuries.

Remembering his other duties, he then created two shadow clones as he went. The first he sent to the hokage (the hope of never meeting him again had been rather short-lived) and the second clone he sent to T & I. It was time to steal some memory-altering S-Rank jutsu. The fact that this was a criminal offense didn’t particularly matter, since he was already a criminal anyway.

 

 

 

 

A few minutes later, Kakashi’s proctoring clone ran out of chakra and subsequently dispelled, assaulting the already tired jonin with yet another wave of exhaustion. He’d stretched himself thin during the course of the day. First with the exam, then looking for Akiha, worrying about his students, looking for the spy, summoning his pack, making clones, the hospital… and now he was paying for it. Worse yet: the return of his clone’s memory informed him that the exam would be ending in a few minutes. As much as he’d rather keep Shikaku company as they waited, he had to go greet the winners.

So, feeling like an ass as he did so, Kakashi excused himself and dragged his sorry self toward the hokage mountain. What he found was… all the ingredients destroyed into a pulp, all of the bed sheets dirty or slashed, and about sixteen weary-looking genin with deer-caught-in-headlights expressions.

Kakashi stared at them listlessly.

They stared back.

His clone probably knew what had happened, but he wasn’t in the mood to sort through memories right now. Not a single person. He mustered them all. Not a single person had done it right.

“Umm… Hatake-san?” the sand kunoichi ventured.

Kakashi just stared at the sky and felt like taking a nose dive off the hokage mountain.

“Hmm… yes?”

“What now?”

Tearing his gaze from the sky, Kakashi looked at her drolly. “You know, guys, I think the results speak for themselves.”

“But that’s unfair!” Ino exclaimed, pointing toward the ruined bed sheets. “That was a last second mishap! We’ve fought tooth and nail to get here!”

“Oh?” drawled Kakashi. “And did it occur to you that this test wasn’t about fighting in the first place?”

There was a shocked silence.

“W-what do you mean?” Kankuro stuttered. “It was literally a battle royale.”

Kakashi sighed.

“Being a shinobi is about thinking before you fight,” he remarked coldly. “Why do you reckon all of your scores depended on the team’s average?”

The genin stared at him mutely.

“If all of you had worked together, gotten one point each,” Kakashi continued, “then your average would be one. No one would’ve been below the average. All of you would have passed. It’s as simple as that.”

The genin’s eyes widened comically.

“Oh my god,” Temari said in horror. “I can’t believe the answer was so obvious.”

Even Shikamaru looked stumped, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Kakashi looked away quickly, recalling his father at the ICU room and feeling guilty. Shikamaru had some bad news ahead of him.

“But, but these guys aren’t our teammates,” Kiba tried to defend. “How were we supposed to trust them?”

Kakashi sighed. Now he was recalling Akiha’s words… he tried to concentrate on the test. “A chunin must often work with other ninja he hasn’t met in his life,” he told Kiba. “Why do you think I put you into teams where you don’t know anyone? This isn’t your genin test anymore. Being a chunin is about more than just you and your goals.”

Kiba lowered his head, contrite.

“But what about the stupid bargaining thing?” the Suna kunoichi questioned. “What does that have to do with being a chunin?”

“Hm? Who said anything about bargaining?” Kakashi said with disinterest. “You could’ve just taken the object and left a ryo behind. That doesn’t count as stealing, does it?”

“But – but that’s stupid!” Kiba interjected again. “Why couldn’t we just have stolen it period?”

“No particular reason. Just didn’t want my test to be a bad role model. That’s it.”

The genin broke out into chaos amongst themselves.

“That’s it?!”

“Huh?!”

“I don’t believe this!”

“God, the answer to the test was dangling in front of us the whole time!”

As he listened to their headache-inducing screams, Kakashi worked on holding back yet another sigh, wishing the day would just end. He really didn’t care about his exam at all anymore…

Slowly, he did a headcount. There were around fifteen genin, give or take. That was a twenty-five percent passing rate. It was acceptable. Technically, they had all failed, but the hokage would have his head if he went through with that, so…

“You all pass,” Kakashi informed them.

“Wait, what?!” Ino exclaimed.

“Yes, hurrah, you guys.” Kakashi gave the kids a tired eye-crinkle. “Maa, I’ll leave you to celebrate.”

“Wait, what now?” Temari yelled, but by then Kakashi had already ambled toward the hokage mountain’s precipice and jumped right off.

“Hatake-san? Hatake-san??” he could hear them yell in the distance.

Apathetically, Kakashi mused what was up with the name change. Did they respect him now? The mere idea felt daunting. Seconds before he reached the ground, Kakashi pressed chakra into his feet until he was once again stuck against the precipice wall. Then he walked the next few meters and dragged his sorry self toward his flat to the sounds of worried genin yelling at him in the distance. He barely recalled reaching his apartment or even his bed, but he did remember his last thought: sometimes he wished he could be a jellyfish, just drifting about, stinging unsuspecting little kids and with no responsibilities in the horizon. Yes, a jellyfish would be nice.

Notes:

Okay, so for anyone wondering, Bull was in the forest bc he was looking for Akiha. Or in otherwords, Kakashi was the one who inadvertently saved both Sakura and Akiha, though he doesn't know because of Itachi's bad habit of hypnotizing his dogs.

As I mentioned earlier, I've created the /PLOT POINTS/ chapter, which will always be at the very end. I'll use it to answer to supposed plot hole concerns that pop up a lot and explain canon deviation. Or whatever the hell I feel like, to be honest. As for me, I'm happily enjoying my vacation now!

Chapter 11: /PLOT POINTS/

Summary:

If you got the update notification, chances are the chapter you're looking for is the previous one.

Plot holes explained

Here are some of the most asked questions:

 

1) Why are Sakura’s parents so clueless about the Uchiha massacre?

 

 

If you remember, on episode three of Naruto classic, Sakura makes fun of Naruto for not having parents in front of Sasuke. And when Sasuke understandably snaps at her after that, she has no clue why. Similarly, when they’re introducing themselves and Sasuke declares his intentions to kill a certain man, Sakura has no clue what he’s talking about either. Now, she’s a smart girl. If she’d known about the massacre, she would’ve probably realized what he was talking about. It’s canon that she’s the mature, bookworm type around adults, so if her parents knew, they’d likely have discussed it with her. I imagine even clan heads didn’t immediately tell their kids about the brutal mass-murder that had occurred to their classmate’s family, partly to spare their kids, partly to spare Sasuke… so she wouldn’t have found out through Ino either. And at the age where Ino is old enough to know already, they’re no longer friends.

 

Okay, so Canon Sakura doesn’t know. But why don’t her parents? Well, that’s a question you should probably ask Kihsimoto, not me. But after thinking about it for a while, I figure that their lack of knowledge actually makes sense. I mean, after the massacre, the Konoha authorities obliviously wouldn’t have wanted to spook their civilians and merchants – it would’ve been really bad for the economy and the Academy application rates for obvious reasons – so it makes sense it’d be kept as low profile as possible. The massacre is a form of weakness; Konoha isn’t about to go shouting about it from the rooftops. The other ninja villages would have found out anyway – heck, every ninja old enough to be a chunin probably has heard of the massacre at some point – but ninja and civilians are close-knit groups which don’t interact much, thus it makes sense that a lot of civilians wouldn’t have heard of it.

So it’s not a secret, per se, but something not very well known by the civilian portions of the population, especially not by small merchants like Sakura’s parents. There was the military police, of course, which disappeared after the massacre, but the official statement was probably that it got disbanded – and most civilians would’ve taken that at face value, mainly because it’s “ninja business” that doesn’t concern them. You could argue my point if you want, but as I said, it’s canon that Sakura doesn’t know about the massacre at twelve, so. Also, as you’ll find out in chapter ten, in this story, Sakura’s parents are immigrants, meaning they are even less informed than most civilians.

 

2) Why do people not recognize Itachi?

 

 

Okay, so it’s canon that Itachi massacred the clan at 12-13, right? Some people say it was even sooner, but the widely-accepted age is thirteen. And yet, Kishi obviously hadn’t decided that when he first introduced Itachi in Naruto classic, which explains why he was drawn as way older and portrayed with a deep voice. However, in my headcanon, Itachi was thirteen and his voice and body looked the part, regardless of how he was first drawn (sorry if you disagree, that’s just how I see it).

 

Also, as shown in Itachi Shinden, his stress marks got really pronounced during his last year in the village, once he’d become captain of his own ANBU squad and was reporting to Danzo. Call it a headcanon, but I think he probably didn’t interact with a lot of people during that last year. I mean, Itachi no longer was in Kakashi’s team, he was wearing his mask during ANBU missions, didn’t trust his new teammates at all (they were from Root)… and on top of that, he was rarely at home, and when he was, he probably didn’t go out on walks. In other words, very few people outside of the Uchiha even saw him at all that during that year, meaning: Kakashi and co. didn’t even see how pronounced his stress marks had gotten during that time. And why is this relevant? Well, it’s relevant because they’re Itachi’s most recognizable feature. Without knowing of them, recognizing him would be a lot harder.

Now, on top of that, imagine this: between the last time the general public saw him and now, Itachi has had a growth spurt, his voice and face have changed, plus he’s dressing in civilian clothes, wears glasses and a bandana designed to take attention away from his hairstyle and he even makes his chakra and gait match those of a civilian. Let’s be honest, guys, I don’t think anyone would realistically recognize him at that point, besides for maybe Sasuke, but not even Sasuke would recognize him based on his voice alone.

 

 

 

 

Why are all the ninja being so incompetent? For example, why didn’t Kakashi notice that he got tricked by Orochimaru, why did Akiha blindly rush into danger, etc?

 

Okay, so let's put it like this. Akiha is pretty arrogant. first, he thinks Anko isn't a real threat –he just believes she was messing with team seven in order to get back at Kakashi. Second, he believes it's Anko, whom he's confident he can take in a fight. Third, this guy is sixteen and in the village, which is supposed to be safe. How should he have known that most of the other ANBU had been sent away for a few hours by the hokage due to Itachi's visit? How should he have known that during that exact time frame, there was way less security than usual? Kakashi made a similar judgment call when he chose to continue the mission to Wave country and he’s way more experienced. In short, Akiha’s assessment would’ve been okay if not for the crucial fact that it was Orochimaru he ended up facing. What with powerhouses like Madara, people kinda forget that Orochimaru is very, very strong too.

Next on the list: Why is Kakashi being so obtuse?

 

First off, let me just say that in any good book, the characters make mistakes. It gets boring otherwise. But to be honest, you can’t fault Kakashi for this one. To put things into perspective, he was fooled, yes, but by Orochimaru. Who is a sannin. And a master of camouflage the likes of which fooled the hokage, if you remember. Plus the entire sand village. For months.

Besides, Kakashi didn't even know Anko personally very well, so how was he supposed to know she was being impersonated?
Also, Sakura had a sprained ankle. Which, had that been the real Anko, would be a very tame injury, guys. Everyone’s freaking out because we know it’s Orochimaru, but Kakashi has no way of knowing, and, dude, it’s a sprained ankle. Why should he suspect something to be wrong based on just that?

More, even though Kakashi had literally no reason to believe something was wrong, he still had enough good instincts to send an ANBU to check on Naruto. And why didn’t he immediately realize something was wrong with Akiha? Well, there are many reasons why the his clone could've puffed away initially. Obviously, if more time passes and he still isn't back, Kakashi would probably get worried, but from his perspective currently, it's just a clone puffing away. There's millions of reasons why that could've happened.
So basically, no, Kakashi is not incompetent or OOC. The situation is just very, very unusual and hard to deal with.
Anyway, sorry for the rant! Just trying to defend Kakashi, he's my bby.

 

 

 

The canon deviation: explained

 

How is it possible, you may be thinking, that just Sakura raising her hand could change so many things? How could it change her meeting Itachi, or Kakashi being a better (somewhat) teacher, or the invasion, or any number of other things?
Well, it’s complicated. But I’m not lying when I say that all of those are connected. To explain my logic, as well as supposed plot holes that aren’t plot holes, I’ll be setting aside this one chapter.

Here we go!

Canon Deviation:

• Sakura raising her hand has three major outcomes:

1) team seven doesn’t pass the first stage of the chunin exam

2) Sasuke gets mad at Sakura

3) Kakashi is warmed by Sakura’s display of teamwork (remember, she had solved all the problems, but raised her hand out of empathy for Naruto). Due to this, he revisits his opinion on Sakura much earlier, which changes from “random pink girl” to the person in team seven who, against all predictions, has taken to Kakashi’s teachings the most. His teachings being… nonexistent except for teamwork and tree walking, but that’s more than enough in Kakashi’s book. So basically, Sakura raising her hand shows him her potential as the “glue” which could potentially keep team seven together – the key to their teamwork – and it also endears her to him.

 

The ramifications:

1) In regards to the exam:

• Since Naruto didn’t get to give his motivational speech during the test, a lot more candidates failed, which leads to the other villages protesting for bias, something which in turn forces the hokage and co. to look for an easier second stage test in order to appease them (which will eventually lead to Kakashi becoming the proctor).

• Orochimaru no longer has a reason to infiltrate the second exam and is forced to look for another way to get to team seven, which in turn results in Anko’s death and a lot more stuff you’ll find out about soon. Basically, Orochimaru has thus become a wildcard.

 

2) In regards to team seven: due to his new appreciation for Sakura, Kakashi decides to start training her. Since she’s a genjutsu type and not very interested in the ninja arts, he can’t take the same approach as with the boys, meaning he has to nudge her subtly, by a) having her “walk” his dogs, which increases her stamina and dirt-tolerance (lol) and b) by casting constant genjutsu on her, forcing her to either learn to break them or have a conniption (Kakashi is a man of faith).

 

The ramifications of her training:

 

Kakashi’s constant genjutsu force Sakura to start paying a lot more attention to her surroundings, (lol to the point where she starts using an alarm clock to remember to check her surroundings every ten minutes).

If you remember, another big change that happened due to Sakura raising her hand is Sasuke’s resulting resentment toward her. This is also important, because it forces her to focus on other things more, such as the training she doesn’t know she’s getting, or bird-watching… and less on the fact that she’s crushing on Sasuke. It starts the process of getting over him.

 

Due to Sakura’s now heightened awareness and paranoia, combined with the fact that she needs something to take her mind off things, combined with the facts that she now has a connection to the ninken, Sakura notices the crows acting weird (Shi-chan would never slip up with Kakashi around, but with just the genin there, he’s not so careful) and is able to track them down. This brings us to the next big canon deviation point: Sakura meets Itachi.

 

//I know it’s not canon that he was in Konoha at the time, but it’s not canon that he wasn’t there either, so I’m just going with the fact that he actually had to visit and things would’ve gone as they did in canon if not for Sakura meeting him.

 

Or in other words, once she meets him and befriends him, Sakura is as good as set on a different path from canon. Her friendship to Itachi has to seem plausible, which is why I devote so much time from chapters three to five in establishing that. They both influence each other a lot, but I’m not going to get into that now.

 

Next in the path of deviation is:

Kakashi putting more of an effort into teaching Sakura leads to jealousy on Sasuke and Naruto’s part, which:

1) forces Kakashi to give them a serious dressing-down in regards to the values of teamwork, putting them on the path to improve their teamwork a lot in the future

2) forces him to teach them more as well to compensate, which results in the chakra paper coming into play much earlier.

 

This, in turn, results in Sakura’s fiasco with the chakra paper, which in turn results in Kakashi agreeing to teach her the shunshin.

 

And you catch my the drift, right? With all of these differences already, it’s obvious that canon will not go on as normal. For example, Kakashi minding team ten one day might have happened in canon without any interesting outcomes, but in this version, after hearing about Ino’s rivalry with Sakura, Kakashi makes a decision to bring the two teams together in hopes of egging Sakura on to try harder at being a ninja and improving the team’s teamwork. This in turn leads to Ino getting egged on, rather than the other way around. Add Kakashi’s version of the chunin exams to that and even more of the cast will be getting development.

Sakura is already more developed than she was in canon by this point. She no longer diets, she does a lot of sport (courtesy of the ninken), she can already water walk, is much better at breaking and spotting genjutsu, has greater awareness of her surroundings, knows basic sensing techniques, has improved her aim a lot, is starting to learn the chiheisen and the sunshin, is better at acrobatics, and last but not least, can do a genjutsu to make people fall asleep and one to conceal them (Itachi taught them to her in order to hide Tora).

Canon Sakura at this point probably wouldn’t have done much when confronted with Orochimaru. But this Sakura? She’s already a step above. And that is only the beginning, my dudes.

Chapter 12: Politics and Plotting

Summary:

In which Danzo plots and Itachi mentally throttles himself.

Notes:

So! New chapter. It's a full 11k, lads. (since, y'know, it's the eleventh chapter... I'm funny like that.) And you're welcome ;)

Inoichi Yamanaka was having a late dinner with his beautiful wife and beautiful daughter, a celebration, so to speak, for Ino’s admirable performance during the second part of the chunin exam that day. His lovely daughter was in the midst of recounting the ins and outs of the Ino Squad, when unexpectedly, their kitchen window was yanked open with force.

A harried-looking ANBU had crouched upon the ledge, his ragged breaths the only sound in the kitchen.

“Sir! Quick! Your presence is required!” he shouted.

Inoichi, floored, lowered his still-steaming mug of tea with extra honey and looked at the ANBU questioningly.

“For what?”

The ANBU was almost quaking with nerves:

“The War Council has been called, sir!”

 

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Inoichi was sat upon a huge table with another thirteen people. The various clan heads were present, along with the lieutenant commander, the jonin commander, the respective heads of the torture and intelligence divisions, and finally, the elders of the High Council. Among the table’s occupants, the mood was quiet and palpably tense. No one spoke. Finally, the hokage entered the room, flanked by an entire platoon of ANBU guards. Without ado, he seated himself and immediately began to speak.

“You must be wondering why I have called you out here at this late hour,” Hiruzen said in a heavy tone.

The various people in the room nodded their heads stiffly, and so the hokage continued: “Today, one of our ANBU agents has been grievously injured and is now on the brink of death. Our best team of medics is fighting for his life as we speak.” The room seemed to collectively inhale in preparation for what came next: “He was found in the Forest of Death… and the aggressor was none other than the largest snake summon in existence – the snake king: Manda.” He paused significantly, watching as realization slowly seemed to dawn on some of the faces watching him. “For those of you unaware, there are only two people who poses a snake-summoning contract in existence… one is Mitarashi Anko, the other one is… Orochimaru.”

In face of these words, the room descended into bleak silence.

“Then…” ventured Nara Shikaku, jonin commander and head of the Nara clan, “why isn’t Mitarashi Anko here?”

More silence.

This time, it was Danzo who answered: “I have deployed my entire division to look for her.”

Shikaku nodded, his expression grim.

“So she’s absent?” Morino Ibiki concluded. “Since when?”

Hiruzen shook his head. “We don’t know.”

Bleak silence.

“What does this mean for us?” Yuhi Shindou head of the Yuhi clan, asked grimly.

Hiruzen looked just as grim as he replied: “It depends on the identity of the summoner.”

“Who was the one to retrieve Aki – the ANBU?” Shikaku asked.

“This information is classified,” Danzo cut in.

“But we need to know,” the jonin commander rebuked. “We need to know if this was Orochimaru or Mitarashi.”

“Our agent didn’t see the summoner.” Danzo’s lip pursed. “However, there is no question as to who we are dealing with. The Sannin’s largest snake summon was found on the forest floor. Unless Mitarashi has unexpectedly grown a lot stronger since I last saw her, I’d say we can safely assume this is Orochimaru’s doing.”

The tense atmosphere intensified, if that was even possible.

“So…” Inoichi Yamanaka, head of the intelligence division, ventured into the silence. “If it’s really Orochimaru… what does that mean for us?”

Shikaku, who was well known for his intelligence, looked down at the table and refused to meet anyone’s eyes. The hokage, too, seemed reluctant to share his opinions. So it was Danzo who spoke:

“Orochimaru is a very interesting ninja… he is intelligent as much as he is ambitious, and he is ambitious as much as he is resentful.”

“You think he’s holding a grudge?” Aburame Shigeru concluded.

Danzo looked at him piercingly, then at Hiruzen. “I don’t think it – I know it. If he’s back, then there’s only one reason for it: revenge.”

An abysmal silence descended upon the room.

“He was once my student…” Hiruzen said, his voice weary.

“He was,” Danzo acknowledged. “And his prowess speaks for itself. Orochimaru is capable of a great many things. He wants vengeance against Konoha, against you, Hiruzen… and I have no doubt that he will find a way to see it through.”

The room’s occupants stared bleakly at Danzo, none daring to believe the implications of what just had been said.

“So?” Inoichi finally ventured. “Vengeance can come in many ways. Maybe he’d be content to restrict our trade routes?”

Danzo laughed without amusement. “Don’t be daft, Yamanaka.” He looked around the room. “I’m assuming you’ve all heard of the village hidden in the Sound by now?”

The rest of the ninja nodded.

“Danzo, you cannot seriously be implying…” Hiruzen began.

“I am,” Danzo cut in, rotund, glancing around the table. “You all know Orochimaru didn’t take it well when his candidacy to hokage was denied. Now he has gone and become a political leader of his own, but if he’s back, then it can only mean one thing: his little sound village is only a stepping stone to a larger goal after all.”

Next to him, the elders began to whisper, and soon enough followed the entire table.

Finally, Shikaku spoke up, voicing haltingly what they had all been thinking:

“You think he’ll try to invade Konoha?”

“I do.”

This time, the resulting silence was heavy and charged with electricity. The hokage’s eyes seemed to harden, and noting this, the jonin commander turned towards him.

“Hokage-sama?”

Hiruzen shook his head. “Until we know for certain, it would be too risky to take any extreme measures.”

Across the table, Danzo’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you suggest? Wait until the day before he attempts your murder to start planning?”

A cutting silence followed.

“We do not know whether it’s Orochimaru or not,” Hiruzen said, ignoring Danzo’s resulting scowl, “but even if it were him – he has done nothing wrong as of yet.”

“No, only trespassed on our village and murdered one of our own.”

“That wasn’t him, but the snake king,” Hiruzen countered. “And the fact that Orochimaru might be here isn’t that surprising, considering the presence of his sound envoys.”

“But why was his pet snake at the Forest of Death then?” Hana of the Inuzuka clan asked. “That takes so much chakra to summon… it can’t be a coincidence.”

“The Forest of Death is notorious for it’s dangerous inhabitants,” Hiruzen told her. “It would make sense for Orochimaru to summon Manda there, where he is out of the way.”

“Of course,” Danzo noted. “And he just so happened to summon the snake king for tea. We’ve all been there, haven’t we.”

He received glares from some people across the table, while others seemed more sympathetic to his reasoning.

“I agree with Hokage-sama,” said the ANBU lieutenant commander, Itona Takenaka. “We don’t have all the facts pertaining this situation. It is delicate as it is; the last thing we need is an escalation.”

Along the table, many of the clan heads nodded their agreement as Danzo clenched his teeth.

“We cannot afford to wait,” the elder insisted. “Our situation is dire, yes, which is precisely why we must act now.”

“I’m with Shimura,” Hana Inuzuka cut in. “Waiting around for an invasion like sitting ducks is just plain stupid.”

Shikaku hummed. “It’s not as easy as that, Hana. At the moment, there are two courses of action we can take. One: we recall all of our jonin to the village – just in case. Two: we take some precautionary measures… but without disrupting our current missions.”

“I believe it would be wiser to recall our shinobi while we still have time… if we have time,” remarked Hyuga Hiashi. Danzo nodded, pleased, but Takenaka shook his head:

“I have many of my ANBU deployed in enemy territory and or undercover. There is no way I can recall them all at the drop of a hat and for a threat that isn’t even confirmed.”

“Can’t you use messenger haws?” asked Hana.

“Impossible,” replied Daigo Horibe, head of communications. “We only have so many messenger haws – not to mention, this information is extremely classified. And even if we did have enough carriers, if our neighbors saw so many of our haws in the sky, they’d be put immediately on guard.”

“We could send our ninja on retrieval missions?” suggested Choza Akimichi.

“Is that a good idea?” asked Shigeru Aburame. “It seems counterproductive to send people away just to get more men back.”

“By my estimation,” Danzo cut in, “the best time to launch an attack against the village would be when it would most damage us – once the festivities start. If we send for people now, we’d still make it in time – but it has to be now.”

“It would leave us wide open at this very moment,” Hiruzen countered. “Not to mention, if we do that, our chances of deescalating the possible conflict would be slim to none. A conflict which, may I remind you all, is of yet only conjecture.”

“And when have our instincts failed us?” Danzo replied sharply. “A ninja doesn’t close his eyes and hope the enemy goes away by virtue of the holly ghost. You all know this: a ninja is always prepared – must always be prepared. I cannot stress this enough: we must act now, or it’ll be too late.”

“Acting rashly is worse than not acting at all,” Homura of the elders intervened. “If we recall all of our shinobi now, without solid proof, we would be put out of business immediately. Failure to complete not one, but all of our missions simultaneously would be financial suicide – and for what? A hunch?”

“If we get invaded, none of that will matter,” interrupted his counterpart – Koharu. The elderly woman looked at Danzo intently. “Shimura: I, too, believe we must act now, before it is too late.”

In that moment, all of the present ninja knew that if even the elder council was in disagreement, then the situation was truly dire. However, only one of them was hokage, and only the hokage had the ability to break the deadlock in such a situation.

“For the moment,” Hiruzen said imperiously, “there is nothing we can do but wait and observe. It would be unwise to make any rash decisions with our current knowledge. Once we have found Anko or if our ANBU agent survives the night, we will regroup to discuss the development of the situation. For now – meeting adjourned!”

 

The various shinobi around the table began to stand slowly, though many looked displeased with the turn of events, most notably Danzo. But he was far from the only one: Inuzuka Hana, Hyuga Hiashi and even the head of the Senju clan appeared to disagree with the hokage’s decision. It was a dire situation in more ways than one.

 

 

 

 

 

Half an hour later found a tired Inoichi and Shikaku ensconced in the cozy kitchen of the latter. It was past one in the morning, so Shikaku’s family had all gone to sleep already, leaving them at liberty to discuss private matters. For the moment, however, they had remained silent.

“Did you congratulate your kid, at least?” Inoichi asked tiredly, waiting seated by the table as Shikaku brewed them tea.

“Shikamaru?” Shikaku said absently. “No. Haven’t seen ‘im all day.”

“Ino told me he passed,” Inoichi said. “Apparently, your kid actually put in some effort this time, who’d have guessed.”

“He did?” muttered Shikaku, though his mind seemed to be drifting.

Inoichi propped his chin on his hand and examined his friend worriedly. “How’s Akiha?” he asked into the silence.

“I just got a message…” Shikaku replied. “He… survived the surgery.”

“That’s great news!” Inoichi exclaimed. “You must be so relieved! Especially after the fight you two had–”

“He’s in a coma.”

“Oh.”

The two friends were silent as Shikaku finished brewing the tea and placed two steaming cups on the table.

“What about Shikamaru? Does he know?”

“About Akiha? No. Not yet. I didn’t want to ruin this day for him.”

Inoichi sighed. “Shikaku, you should tell him.”

Shikaku drank his tea silently. “I will. Tomorrow.”

The conversation lulled for a while as both men sipped at their tea. The implications of Akiha’s coma were lost on neither of them: if he didn’t wake up, the chances of finding out who his aggressor had been were very slim…

“So,” said Inoichi at last, breaking the long silence. “The meeting. What a disaster, huh?”

“You could say that again,” muttered Shikaku, rubbing his temples tiredly. “Something tells me that this doesn’t bode well at all for us.”

“So you think the snake king’s appearance was Orochimaru’s doing after all?” Inoichi asked, blowing at his newly-refilled tea.

Shikaku sighed. “It’s hard to say… Anko was a jonin with a lot of chakra, and as you know, there are certain chakra enhancers that could’ve perhaps allowed her to summon the snake king on her own… I don’t know. It all depends on whether she’s been hiding higher chakra levels from us or not.”

Inoichi frowned. “But what do you think is more likely?”

Shikaku sighed again. “I don’t know. With the data we currently have, it’s hard to say.”

“So you support the hokage in his decision to wait?”

“I’m… not sure.” Shikaku paused, thinking deeply. “Orochimaru used to be hokage-sama's student. I’m not certain whether that has influenced him, even subconsciously. Truth is, I hate to agree with Danzo on anything, but… if this really is Orochimaru, we’re in trouble.”

“So you don’t second sandaime-sama’s decision to attempt a deescalation?” Inoichi prodded.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Shikaku told him. “I’m always one for solving conflicts peacefully, but… with the likes of Orochimaru, I’m not sure if that’s even an option.”

The blonde Yamanaka nodded pensively, swirling the tea in his cup around.

Shikaku glanced at his former teammate with interest. “But enough about me. What did you think?”

Inoichi sipped his tea thoughtfully.

“Well…” he began. “As you know, I’m not much of a tactician… but even if we disregard the Orochimaru situation altogether, we’re already in big trouble.”

Shikaku’s eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You must’ve noticed how factions immediately began to form, yes?” Inoichi said. “Those who support the hokage and those who support Danzo.” Shikaku nodded, his eyes narrowing. “And therein lies the problem,” Inoichi continued. “You and I both know that Danzo has been after the hokage’s seat for decades. He’s already powerful enough as it is, but if we were to support him in this…”

“Shit,” Shikaku burst out. “He’d gain too much power.”

“Exactly,” Inoichi completed. “And the hokage would be discredited.”

“Fuck, that’s troublesome.”

Inoichi arched an eyebrow. “It’s not often I see you curse, my friend.”

Shikaku sighed. “The situation calls for it. We’re tethering on the edge of disaster here – both militarily and politically.”

Inoichi continued to sip his tea, that reserved expression still on his face. “We are,” he agreed. “The worst thing is, now that hokage-sama has already established his position in this, if he backtracks to support Danzo, he will immediately lose his standing with the council.”

Shikaku nodded, his expression grim. “To aggravate matters, I fear Danzo may be in the right this time. What to do, what to do…”

Inoichi swirled the tea in his cup, looking blankly at it. “I don’t know. We must tread very carefully if we don’t want to upset the political balance… but knowing Danzo, he’ll already be working to turn the odds in his favor.”

Shikaku sighed. “You’re right. Shit. You’re absolutely right.” He glanced at his friend, worry etched into his features. “Spit it out, you old dog. You’re the politically savvy one here. What do you think will be Danzo’s next move?”

“Let me think…” Inoichi’s lip pursed pensively. “Perhaps he’ll try to sway Homura to his side…? That’s the most effective approach, all things considered.”

“Makes sense… but Homura seemed pretty dedicated to supporting sandaime-sama back there,” Shikaku countered, recalling the elder’s set features during the meeting. It was strange: he’d never seen Koharu and Homura disagree on anything, but this time, the female member of the council, Koharu, was firmly on Danzo’s side, while Homura had stood by the Hokage.

“The elders are split…” Inoichi trailed off, as though reading Shikaku’s thoughts, “which means that the council won’t be able to decide anything without additional support. If Danzo can’t convince Homura to side with him, he’ll most likely try to sway anyone in power positions and neutral clan leaders.”

Shikaku blinked, unimpressed. “That still leaves a lot of people. You and I were neutral, as well as the Aburame and the Yuhi clan, if I recall…”

“The Yuhi clan will likely stand by Danzo,” said Inoichi, without missing a beat. “You know Kurenai?”

“The new jonin?” Shikaku asked surprised, thinking of the genjutsu specialist which had recently been promoted. “Yes, I’m aware of her.”

“Her father was the head of the Yuhi clan,” Inoichi explained. “As the Yuhi are primarily genjutsu specialists, they played a key role during the kyubi attack twelve years ago, risking their lives in an attempt to contain it.”

“Yes, I had heard as much.”

“Well…” Inoichi continued. “The Yuhi clan was already small to begin with, but due to this, all senior members passed away that night. Including Kurenai’s father. From what I know, he used to be an old friend of Danzo’s.”

“That man has friends?” Shikaku asked, aghast.

“Apparently,” confirmed Inoichi. “In any case, after Yuhi-san’s death, Danzo cleared one of his ROOT agents from the force, giving him the sole task to take care of the remaining members of the Yuhi clan, most of which were were too young to fend for themselves. The eldest was Kurenai, at thirteen.”

“Aren’t ROOT agents a little…” Shikaku trailed off.

“Not well adjusted?” Inoichi filled in. “Yes, I know. Actually, I used to be Shindou’s therapist… you know, the ROOT agent’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He had a bit of a hard time at the beginning, believe me. Taking care of a grieving teenaged Kurenai was not easy on him, and apparently there were a lot of toddlers he had to look after as well.”

Shikaku snorted. “Somehow I can’t imagine anyone from ROOT pulling that off.”

“Well,” said Inoichi with a twinkle in his eye. “Against all predictions, Shindou somehow managed it. Thanks to my marvelous advice, of course.”

Shikaku rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“But anyway,” Inoichi continued. “My point is, the guy used to work for ROOT. Directly under Danzo. There’s no way he won’t support him when push comes to shove.”

Shikaku nodded. “And Danzo seriously released him from duty? Just like that? It seems so out of character for him, especially after something like the kyubi attack.”

“I know,” Inoichi agreed. “I don’t understand it either. But apparently he wanted to honor his friendship with Kurenai’s father…”

Shikaku stared at him blankly.

“Alright, alright,” said Inoichi. “Maybe he was also hoping to gain more political sway thanks to Shindou but it was still a pretty nice thing to do.”

“Danzo and the word nice somehow don’t fit in one sentence,” Shikaku replied dryly. “Please don’t say that again. You’ll make me question everything.”

“Fine, fine.” Inoichi chuckled. “He’s an odd one, that Danzo. Ah, but so interesting. What I wouldn’t give to peer into his head… just a little peek…”

Shikaku sighed exasperatedly. “Please stop. You’re giving me the creeps.”

“Aww, come on,” Inoichi complained with a smile. “I can’t help it! Individuals like him are just so fascinating!”

“Sure they are,” said Shikaku. “You know, my friend, you’ve got the oddest kinks.” He lifted a glass of sake ceremoniously. “Here’s to praying Ino won’t turn out quite as creep-obsessed as you.”

“Hey! Put that down! It’s almost two in the morning! You shouldn’t be drinking!”

Shikaku ignored him and chugged at his sake.

Inoichi sighed, bemused.

“Anyway,” said Shikaku after downing the liquid. “The Yuhis will support Danzo. Got it. Who else is there?”

“Hmmm…” Inoichi trailed off thoughtfully. “Well, as far as neutral parties go, there’s the both of us… I think Choza will probably support Danzo, mind, if his early intervention is anything to go by.”

Shikaku glanced at him oddly. “How you manage to remember everything everyone says as well as classify their allegiances based on just that will remain a mystery to me… I don’t even remember Choza speaking up at all.”

Inoichi laughed, bemused. “And that, my friend, is why you take care of tactics and not intelligence gathering… but anyway, yes, Choza asked a question at one point. He wanted to know why we weren’t sending retrieval squads for our undercover agents.”

“Ahh…” said Shikaku. “Yes, I remember that discussion. You’re right. If he asked that, then he’ll probably support Danzo… unless we convince him otherwise.”

“Yes,” said Inoichi. “Convincing him to be neutral is a possibility, but I’m not sure if we even want to do that.” He paused thoughtfully. “Besides, we’ve got our own position to worry about. Chances are Danzo will approach either of us in the coming hours – most likely you, as you’re the jonin commander.”

Shikaku nodded. “What should I do if he does? Stall for time?”

Inoichi frowned. “I’m not sure… it all depends on how much support the hokage has. We can’t let him get completely outvoted.”

“That makes sense. Who else is there?”

“Well, on the hokage’s side, there’s obviously the Sarutobi clan, and probably most of the minor clans which don’t have council representation, like the Hatake clan, the Uzumaki clan, the Uchiha clan, etc.”

“They’re under the hokage’s jurisdiction?” Shikaku asked, alarmed.

“Well, at least in the case of the Uzumaki and the Uchiha, they must be.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Can’t Naruto and Sasuke accept heirship?”

“The minimum age requirement is thirteen,” Inoichi explained, having read up on the finer rules recently. “That means they’d have to wait until their coming birthdays, though in any case, as children, they’d be easy to manipulate… so their presence wouldn’t necessarily be a bonus. As for the Hatake clan… well, I can’t imagine Kakashi suddenly showing an interest in politics, can you? After all these years he’s spent fleeing anything to do with his heir title… in any case, that means the Hatake clan falls under the hokage’s jurisdiction as well. Then there’s other small clans which I could get into at length, but I won’t bore you with the details. Case in point: they’re all backing the hokage.”

“I see…” said Shikaku. “That’s still not a lot of support, if you take into account that the Hyuga are with Danzo.”

“You forget, my friend, that the Uchiha left us with a small fortune,” Inoichi countered. “Their name still holds more weight than you’d think… but I digress,” he shrugged elegantly. “The hokage’s main ally, undoubtedly, is the lieutenant commander.”

Shikaku wrecked his brain to recall the man’s role in the meeting. “Yes, I remember him. He spoke up more than once to defend the hokage, didn’t he?”

In truth, this wasn’t very surprising, as ANBU was directly under the hokage’s supervision. It wasn’t a very well known fact, but just as Shikaku was jonin commander, his ANBU counterpart was the hokage himself. Since the creation of the village, the hokage’s primary role had been that of ANBU commander (though back then, the position had born a different name), something which had played a key role in maintaining his power during times of crisis. As commander of the village’s elite, the chances of launching a successful coup against the hokage were very slim. However, with the hokage’s growing number of duties and tasks as the village developed, the need to delegate had arisen, and so the position of ANBU “lieutenant commander” was born. The lieutenant commander was possibly the second most powerful man in the village, though only on paper. This was due to the fact that, historically, the varying hokage had usually feared the immense influence of their lieutenant commanders, which is why only very servile and loyal ANBU were ever chosen for the job. The current lieutenant commander, Itona Takenaka, had been appointed during the last war, and, though Shikaku didn’t know his superior very well, he wasn’t surprised in the least to hear that the man was a staunch supporter of the hokage’s…

“I see…” Shikaku said, beginning to better understand the pieces of the game. “The lieutenant commander, huh?” He twirled his beard thoughtfully. “Danzo’s next stop is going to be him almost certainly then. Provided Homura doesn’t change his mind, without Takenaka’s support, any chances of outvoting the hokage are nigh impossible. And if I know Danzo at all, he will try to sway Takenaka no matter the cost.”

“And if he can’t sway him?” asked Inoichi.

“Then he’ll attempt to remove him from the board altogether.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Around that time in a different part of the village, Sakura woke up.

She was lying on the mattress where she had learned back-flips, she realized vaguely. At first she thought she’d fallen asleep during training, but then she remembered that she already could do back-flips and was confused… It was then she that she attempted to move, to sit up, and her entire body was wrecked with excruciating pain, and her confusion morphed into alarm.

“Yuna?” she croaked.

There were shuffling sounds until the door appeared to open.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” came the old woman’s raspy voice.

Sakura stared at the ceiling blearily. ‘Sleepyhead’? Yuna never used endearments like that. Ever. What was going on?

“What happened? Why am I here?” Sakura asked slowly, wishing she could sit up, at least. Her body ached oddly and she felt very tired.

“Ya did well, girl. Now drink!” was Yuna’s immediate response… which in true Yuna fashion, didn’t really answer anything. Nevertheless, Sakura’s throat was feeling incredibly parched, so the idea of drinking was very appealing. Before she knew it, Yuna’s wizened hands were lifting her up with surprising strength and propping pillows behind her. Sakura took in her surroundings. The room was dark around her. She could barely see Yuna. But then the woman held a steaming cup of tea under her nose, and Sakura chugged it eagerly down her parched throat. Suddenly, she shivered. Thinking of throats made the hairs in her arms stand on end, but she didn’t know why… the image of a huge, horrible gullet came to her mind like something straight out of her nightmares, and Sakura shivered even more. Forcefully, she tried to banish these odd thoughts from her head. It was… weird. Her mind felt strangely foggy, but that must be the exhaustion getting to her.

She felt like something had happened, but at the same time, there seemed to be nothing pointing toward it. Yuna was being Yuna, Sakura’s body felt strangely tired but otherwise fine…

“Why am I so tired?” she asked quietly.

“Yer a stubborn brat, that’s why,” Yuna said.

“But why… why am I here?” Sakura questioned then, trying to remember what had happened. She remembered… chasing a dog? Or something. But she didn’t remember whether she’d caught the dog at all. And she remembered that Anko woman being creepy, and that nice ninja helping out. And she remembered buying clothes at Yuna’s, which – wait.

“Where are my clothes?” Sakura asked, confused. She was wearing some odd second-hand camisole that looked almost like a nightdress.

“I’m washing them,” said the old woman. “And hold your horses, girl. That’s enough questions for now.”

“But why are–?”

Annoyed, Yuna pushed the tea flask into Sakura’s lips and forced her to drink. “Stop asking questions, girl. You can bother your friend later.”

Resigned to the old woman’s mercurial moods, Sakura laid down again, passing the time by stroking Goliath sleepily. She felt so, so tired…

 

 

 

The next time she came to, it was to the lull of quiet voices in the background.

“…just finished healing the worst of the damage…”

“…any permanent injuries?”

“…has been very lucky to get to me so soon…”

Slowly, as she began to regain more conscience, the words honed in.

“Will she be alright then?”

“I imagine so, pipsqueak. But what on earth happened? This kind of damage…”

“She was caught in the midst of a gigantic explosion.”

“Don’t tell me it was mine?!”

“I believe so, yes.”

There was something that sounded like a muttered ‘bless her, the poor girl’ and then even more muttered curses.

“It’s a miracle that she made it out alive then. The girl’s tougher than I thought.”

“She is… When will she wake up?”

“Already did, but the pain was too much for her so I put her under again.”

“Ah, I see… will she be in pain in the coming days?”

“Yes. I’ll try my best to make the recovery quick for her, but it ain’t so easy…”

“I see… thank you so much for your help, Rasna.”

“Yuna, ya idiot. And yer gonna have to tell me what this is all about, pipsqueak.”

“I’m sorry, as much as I’d like to, I cannot disclose any more details.”

“Ya sure? She was askin’ a lotta questions.”

“Understandable.”

It was around then that Sakura decided it was her turn to participate:

“Wha… whaz goin’ on?” she muttered groggily.

She heard footsteps approaching and felt the mattress dip under someone’s weight.

“Sakura, how are you feeling?”

“’m fine…” Sakura informed. “Great, but odd ‘n tired ‘n stuff…”

“I see,” said the reserved voice. “I’m glad to hear that. Your head?”

“Headhunter jutsu,” Sakura said with a faint giggle, recalling Kakashi’s attack against Sasuke during the bell-test.

There was a sigh. “Yuna, did you drug her?”

“Might’ve added some strong relaxants in ‘er tea.”

Sakura tried to open her eyes, annoyed by this idea, but it was just so cozy…

“You believe this necessary?”

“More than.”

Yet another sigh. “I’ll be by again in a while then.”

Then more footsteps and some shuffling, followed by the door closing, and then blissful silence.

 

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, many meters below the ground, in one of the most secret facilities within Konoha, Danzo stood poised, waiting for his agents’ reports. He’d had the entirety of ROOT comb through the Forest of Death during the course of the entire night, and now, with the first rays of sunlight, his agents were returning to him.

“Danzo-sama,” the operation’s commanding officer stated stiffly, kneeling at the elder’s feet.

“Kin…” said Danzo, watching the agent impassively. “Report.”

“We’ve found nothing,” said Kin blandly. “As per your orders, our patrols have been combing all over the Forest of Death, attempting to locate Mitarashi Anko or even the snake king’s carcass, but the clearing which the Uchiha has mentioned was empty upon our arrival – though the trees in the area were battered, clearly signs of a struggle. However, we haven’t managed to locate anything useful.”

Due to the tongue seal which insured their silence, some choice agents from ROOT knew of Itachi’s work as a double agent, which proved convenient as it gave Danzo’s men an edge over Hiruzen’s. However, even with Itachi directly briefing his ROOT agents, nothing had come off it. It was as though Mitarashi Anko had never existed – she was just… gone. The same went for Manda’s supposed appearance… if it weren’t because of the pitch black seal concealed beneath on Itachi’s own tongue, Danzo would’ve thought him a liar.

“Then look again,” he ordered coldly. “We must find the summoner, no matter the cost.”

“My apologies, Danzo-sama,” said Kin slowly. “Our efforts have been futile. Looking again would likely not change this.”

“Then…” Danzo’s jaw clenched. “Get me Río.”

“It will be done.”

Danzo nodded. “Good. And be quick.”

 

 

 

Minutes later, a different agent showed up, though instead of kneeling at Danzo’s feet, this one unceremoniously plopped down on the floor.

“You called?”

“Did you find him?” Danzo snapped impatiently.

Río frowned. “No. Didn’t Kin just report to you?”

Angrily, Danzo gritted his teeth and stared off into space with a scowl. After a few minutes of this, she ventured, “Danzo-sama?”

Danzo looked away from the pillar he was glaring at. “That bloody Homura!” he snapped suddenly, making her jump. “Gaining his approval will be impossible at this rate, and then what? The man is as stubborn as a mule, and probably proud of it too!”

“Right,” said Río.

“We need to eliminate Takenaka,” Danzo continued ranting. “There’s something off about him. I don’t trust him.”

“Er – I don’t follow…?”

Danzo waved her off. “Never mind. You don’t have a mind for politics anyway.”

Eyes narrowing like a cat, Río crossed her arms. “Alright. Fine. Why am I here then? Did you just call me so you could rant at me?”

Danzo took a deep breath, then turned back toward her. “They do say that talking to thin air isn’t a good sign,” he remarked dryly. “And I’d go spare if I didn’t vent somehow.”

“Maybe you could sign up to a yoga class then?” Río suggested.

Danzo glared at her. “I don’t need to meditate! What I need is to voice my thoughts out loud. It helps me clear my mind.”

“Right. Well… talk to Ren then. Or Shima. Or Senzo. Or Yin. They’re all good at listening.”

“Yes, and at pretending to be a wall also,” Danzo snapped.

“But that’s positive! Then they can bounce back your ideas.”

Danzo gave her a blank look. “You know as well as I that none of them have any opinions.”

“Ren has lots of opinions on kunai positioning.”

“Never mind. Río. Pay attention.”

Río sighed. “Alright… what do you want me to do then? Try to find out whether Takenaka’s a bad apple?”

“No,” said Danzo immediately. “As I said – I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, even with the knowledge that he’s being followed.”

 

“Isn’t that… a little excessive?” Río asked after a beat. “I mean, that’s the lieutenant commander we’re talking about. I know you’re not too fond of ANBU but–”

“It’s not that,” Danzo interrupted, ignoring her sceptical look. “Something just tells me that it’s no coincidence that Takenaka’s supporting Hiruzen’s terrible choices in this. Not when he’s usually so paranoid.”

“He could just be stupid…?”

“Not Takenaka,” Danzo dismissed. “That man is a fox.”

“But why would he be a spy?” Río insisted. “He’s been extremely loyal ever since the war.”

“But at that time, Orochimaru still was one of ours,” Danzo told her. “Haven’t you ever seen Takenaka’s arms?”

Río blinked, her expression thoughtful. “He always wears that white coat of his, even in summer… so no.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He lost them to the war.”

Río frowned. “But I’ve seen him fight with both of them. I’m sure of it. He didn’t look handicapped whatsoever.”

There was a strange gleam in Danzo’s eye as he said: “Exactly.”

Río paused. “It can’t be…” she ventured slowly. “Orochimaru’s experiments? You think his new arms…?”

The subsequent silence left a lot to the imagination, but Danzo clearly understood what she was saying. “It’s just a theory, but yes. Takenaka being a traitor? It’s a definite possibility.”

“I see,” said Río, looking more than a little alarmed now. “Then it’s as good as set in stone – you’re usually right about these things.”

“Hm,” said Danzo non-committally. “Then you better pray I’m not. If Takenaka truly is spying for Orochimaru, we’ll have a huge problem on our hands.”

“Great,” Río muttered. “This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it? Our ANBU commander, a spy. And then we claim that our village is the greatest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danzo asked with a scowl.

Río sighed. “ Never mind. Have you told the hokage about any of this?”

Danzo sneered. “He would dismiss my concerns as paranoid lies.”

“I still think you should say something…” Río advised, “even if the old monkey is rather thick.”

“But you see,” Danzo told her, “In Hiruzen’s eyes, it must seem rather convenient that I come out with this now. He won’t believe me. Not now.”

“…fantastic,” Río said with chagrin. “So now what?”

“We’ll have to find a loophole, as usual.” Danzo said. “In this case, a legal loophole.”

“A legal loophole?”

“Yes. We may not be able to kill Takenaka without making a scene, but we can still fire him legally.”

“You can do that?” Río asked sceptically.

“Yes, in fact you can,” Danzo said with a pleased expression. “You see, when sensei created the ANBU corps and the entire administrative legislation all by himself, he added a clause that would allow him to fire anyone who wasn’t hokage.”

“Wow.”

“Exactly. And he was so clever about it that he hid those clauses so well, that only someone who knew they existed in the first place could possibly manage to find them.”

Río hesitated. “And…? How many people know?”

Danzo smirked. “He mentioned it to Hiruzen and I once in passing – it wouldn’t surprise me if Hiruzen has no memory of it. He was wretchedly drunk at the time.”

“Yay” said Río. “Does that mean we have to sort through mountains of paperwork now?”

“You won’t,” Danzo grumbled. “I need you overseeing everything back in the field… but as for me… well.”

“That’s… such a shame,” Río replied. “I’ll be rooting for you though.”

Danzo sighed. “Whatever. Dismissed.”

“Wait.” Río blinked at him. “I was right? You seriously just called me here to rant at me?”

“I said dismissed!” Danzo snapped.

“Alright, alright. I’m going…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Sakura next woke up two days later, she was in her bedroom. Getting up with a huge yawn and some exaggerated stretching, she padded to the bathroom, bleary-eyed, to take a shower. She was surprised at the amount of grime left on the shower-floor by the time she was done, but she chalked it up to an evening spent with Kakashi’s dogs. Suppressing yet another yawn, Sakura then strode back to her room to get on with her day. Her quipao dress came on next, then her weapons holsters… but by then, Sakura was sufficiently awake to notice a lot of her weapons missing. Say what? Where had she put them? She spent the next fifteen minutes searching for the misplaced shuriken and kunai – but with no luck. Eventually, Sakura gave up and went downstairs for some breakfast. To her utter surprise, instead of greeting her normally, her mother looked at her with alarm. Or more specifically, at her forehead.

“Hm? Where’d you get that, dear?”

Sakura, clueless, was left to finger her forehead confusedly, until… her index brushed against something uneven. A bandage. What? She’d hit her forehead? Sakura pondered this confusedly. Ugh, goddamn! Why did her mind feel so foggy today? Was she secretly drunk or something? Sakura didn’t think that could happen without drinking, but maybe it could? Or maybe she’d really hit her head hard. It was then that she suddenly remembered breaking into Stalker-san’s flat through the window and hitting her forehead. It was probably the dumbest way to get injured she could think of.

Ugh. Could she get more stupid? What on earth had possessed her to do such a thing?

 

Once she was up in her room again, Sakura removed the bandage. She was greeted with a healing injury, rather ugly and crusted and brown-red. But wait, it looked days old, at least. Why hadn’t she gone to the doctor to get it healed? Stupid, stupid, stupid! What on earth had she been thinking, these past few days?

Sakura’s next order of business that morning was to go to the hospital. Soon enough, it was her turn to go into the med-nin’s clinic… and the doctor in charge of genin-healing had bad news for her.

First, he chastised Sakura for minutes on end for not coming earlier, as it was now too late to prevent scarring, and what had she been thinking? How had she the nerve to come after so many days – when the injury would be so much harder to heal properly, adding a lot more work and chakra-expenditure to on his plate? His reserves weren’t infinite, did she know? And had she no respect? She wasn’t the only one in the world who needed healing. It was clear the man had had a stressful day, but he was obviously a good person at heart, because, when Sakura started crying in midst of his rant (not this again – stop it, Haruno, stop it!) he’d immediately softened, switching to a more comforting persona and gently promising he’d try to smooth the injury out as much as possible.

Meanwhile, Sakura was working on controlling her tear ducts, and failing rather terribly at it. Why, oh, why did she have to be so emotional again? Why couldn’t she be all stoic, like Sasuke? Or even bullheadedly disregard all difficulties in her path, like Naruto? Perhaps she should take a cue from Kakashi and start wearing a mask? But no, that wouldn’t help hide her tears… she simply needed to stop being such a crybaby.

But Sakura just couldn’t help it; in this case, her tears were born of frustration. She felt so angry at herself. Why hadn’t she come sooner to the medic? What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she been thinking?

Not to mention, of all places to get a scar, her overly-large forehead was the absolute last choice for her. And yet, she’d somehow managed to get the very first scar in her career right smack on her forehead, and by something as stupid as headbutting Stalker-san through his window… Sakura truly felt like a moron now.

And it felt like such a trivial injury, too! If it was going to permanently disfigure her (okay, maybe that was exaggerating a little, but still), well, if she was going to be permanently marred, at least the scar could’ve been worth it, right? Maybe obtained by heroically saving Kakashi’s life and proving to her teammates that she was worth it, right? That would’ve been worthy of such a scar. Alright, alright, her saving Kakashi was a fanciful fantasy at best, but still…! Did she seriously have to go and get a scar over something so stupid?

As soon as the appointment was over, Sakura went to the hospital bathroom to mope in peace – and stare viciously at her scar. The medic had done a good job in making it less hideous, explaining that he’d accelerated the natural healing her body was capable of. This meant her scar looked a lot better than it should, fresh as the injury was, but it also meant it likely wouldn’t heal much more. Sakura stared at it morosely. It was a fine white line that spanned more or less across the middle of her forehead. It wasn’t very big, thankfully, but the shape was odd, kind of like a half-moon, or an incomplete circle, and the line cut itself off the slightest bit at the middle. Sakura thought wryly that if the circle had been complete, she’d now be carrying around the Haruno symbol on her forehead… well, it could’ve been worse. The scar wasn’t very bumpy or anything, so she figured that a proper dose of make-up could hide it no problem. But it was still a bummer.

 

 

Unfortunately, she didn’t make it home in time to conceal it. As a matter of fact, she didn’t even make it five meters without inadvertently presenting her scar to society: just as Sakura was walking down the stairs, she somehow managed to stumble into Kakashi, who joined her on the staircase when she was passing the Intensive Care Units’ floor.

“Sakura-chan? Yo.”

“Sensei?” she questioned with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Kakashi scratched his head. “Visiting someone… how about you?” He looked with interest at the scar on her forehead, and with his intent gaze, it almost felt like it was almost prickling. Sakura resisted the urge to duck her head self-consciously.

“I was trying to get this scar healed, Sensei,” she answered, dejected. “But with no luck.”

Kakashi nodded slowly. “Maa, if you’re done already, care to join me outside?”

Sakura nodded, falling into step next to him as they walked out of the hospital.

“So. The scar,” Kakashi said after a moment. “Guess we match now, ne?” he added, pushing up his headband to display his own scar.

Sakura giggled. “Yeah. We sure do.”

“How’d you get it?” Kakashi queried lazily, replacing his headband.

“Um,” Sakura stuttered awkwardly. “Well… you won’t believe this, but by headbutting someone.”

Kakashi blinked, his eyes going slightly wide. “Should I worry about the other guy?”

Sakura giggled again. Now that she thought about it, it’d been ages since she’d seen Stalker-san, or, um, Tetsuya. Would he have a scar too? She couldn’t remember…

“The other guy is my friend, sensei,” she informed him. “And it was an accident.”

Kakashi chuckled. “Well, that’s an interesting shape, for a scar. Was your friend wearing something round on his forehead?”

“Um, I don’t know…” Sakura said. Now that she thought about it, the scar really was quite odd.

“Sakura-chan…” Kakashi said suddenly. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“Why did you miss training yesterday?”

The fact that she had missed it that morning as well was strongly implied.

For an entirely too long moment, Sakura stared at Kakashi, surprised. She’d missed training…? Again, the strange fogginess in her mind took over. She didn’t know what to think. How had she forgotten that? Was her brain addled?

“Um. I was tired…” she said hesitantly. Her exhaustion was the only thing she was certain of, though Sakura felt as if something more was at play. She was going to say something else, apologize, but Kakashi seemed to have already accepted her answer and moved on to the next topic:

“Has it anything to do, per chance, with what happened the day before?”

Sakura was lost for a moment, until she suddenly realized he must be talking about the Anko ordeal.

“Uh. I guess…”

“Sakura,” Kakashi said, looking at once very serious. “Did something happen with Anko? Was she acting odd?” Anko had already been acting strangely the day Kakashi had talked to her in the jonin longue, but he had chalked it off to her resentment then, not knowing the woman very well. Now, Kakashi was regretting his oversight with a vengeance.

Meanwhile, Sakura blinked at him. “I… yes? She was… weird.”

Upon Kakashi’s further proving, she recounted what little she could remember about that day, including the nice guy who had rescued her and Sasuke from Anko’s perverted clutches.

“I see,” said Kakashi after she was done. His expression was bleak and it made alarm bells go off in her head. “I’m canceling training for tomorrow as well as today, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi told her. “Make sure to tell Sasuke and Naruto for me, please. And warn them not to walk off on their own, ne?”

Sakura nodded, worry beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach. Something, she could immediately tell, was wrong.

“Ja, then I’ll be off,” said Kakashi, giving her a head-ruffle. Then he paused, as though remembering something and he lightly tapped her scar. “And don’t worry about that, ne, Sakura-chan? It gives you the look of a heroine.”

Sakura opened her mouth, about to tell Kakashi that he better not be referencing an Icha Icha heroine, but the words wouldn’t come out. He was so nice to her, she felt emotion clogging her throat, constricting her chest, and she only managed to whisper:

“Kaka-sensei…”

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling, seeming to understand her without words. Lifting his hand in merry farewell, he puffed away.

Sakura stared after him, blushing a little. She’d thought Stalker-san, er, Tetsuya, was weird for supposedly crushing on Kakashi-sensei. Now she felt like someone had knocked all the air off her chest. He was so cool…

Wait. What had she just thought? Abort! Abort! And yet, she couldn’t backtrack on her very own thoughts. She’d just thought of Hatake Kakashi as cool. What. Stop, you idiot! What are you doing? Sakura scolded herself. He’s the very definition of uncool! Sasuke is cool. Not sensei, for god’s sake! And yet, she thought with dismay, her treacherous blush was still very much present.

Great , Sakura surmised with a sigh as she stomped toward the training ground . She knew herself well enough to know when she had a crush. Just what I needed. With how perceptive Kakashi was, he’d likely pick up on her new-found admiration, probably grow uncomfortable and try to distance himself… Since that was about the last thing she wanted, it meant that Sakura would have to be as subtle as she could in her affections and wait them out until they disappeared. Which was easier said than done, because she knew herself and she knew that she wasn’t exactly subtle in her amorous attentions. Ugh, Sakura thought with annoyance. She had the worst timing ever, didn’t she?

 

 

 

  

Whilst Sakura was busy freaking out, Danzo found himself confined to a desk, glancing longingly at the window every so often as he combed through stacks upon stacks of paperwork which may or may not bear the legal loophole to fire Takenaka. He was in the official council building, which was used primarily to keep all sorts of inane records about inane rules and regulations and laws no one had bothered to look through in the entire history of hidden villages. Until then.

Now, Danzo was usually a master of his own mind, with a capacity for work and discipline rivaled by few… but even he found this task very mind-numbing. There was a reason why he avoided sitting as his ninja debriefed him and, okay, it was partly because he enjoyed the whole power dynamic of towering over his kneeling officials thing, yes, but mostly it was because he absolutely couldn’t stand to sit still. It had even earned him the nickname of vibra-knees back in the Academy (something Hiruzen surely remembered on rainy days) and, though Danzo had much better control over his tick now, he occasionally still found his knees knocking up and down restlessly on days such as today. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Hearing someone knock on the door, the elder immediately forced his knees into submission and schooled his annoyed countenance.

“Who is it?” he questioned gruffly.

The door creaked open revealing Río, looking calm as usual, despite the fact that she was balancing a lemonade pitcher upon her head. To shinobi, who were well known for disliking to have both hands occupied, this might not be that surprising… who was he kidding, it was completely bizarre.

Despite himself, Danzo couldn’t help but stare at the pitcher. He knew that Río was one of the only Roots agent with actual recreational hobbies… but this?

“It's hot outside," Río said defensively. "Don't judge me."

Wondering what his life had come to, Danzo tore his gaze away from the pitcher and shook his head. "Never mind. I have an assignment for you." Standing up from his chair, he slowly walked toward the window. 

"Just for me?" Río questioned, turning serious. "How bad is it?"

"Actually, it's not a solo this time…” he told her, pulling out a scroll. “The pertinent information is on here, as well as instructions regarding your, ah, extraneous partner for this one.”

“Extraneous partner?” Río's eyes narrowed in thought. “As in, someone not from the foundation?”

“Yes.” Danzo's mien darkened. “That's exactly what I mean. Normally, I would never willingly send you on a mission with the likes of him, but the situation truly calls for it.”

"Hm. It's no sweat, I don't mind."

"You don't mind?" Danzo jeered. "ANBU is our natural enemy! But I should've known you'd say that. You are rather lacking in the common sense department."

"My common sense is just fine."

Danzo gave her a look. "Yes, and you also once stuck your hand into a chidori. Voluntarily. For no discernible reason. I suppose that that must've been your common sense ruling your thoughts again?"

"That was one time!" Río complained. "Am I never going to live that down?"

Danzo smiled in the same way crocodile might. "No." 

She scowled. "Look, can we not do this right now? Just tell me the mission and I’ll be on my way. As for my partner, do I have to team up with Itachi Uchiha? Or with that sannin who perves on women?"

Danzo scowled. "No. Why do you think I brought the chidori incident up? You'll be paired up with Hatake Kakashi." He chugged the mission scroll into her general direction.

"Hatake... Kakashi?" Río murmured, catching it.

"Yes, and try not to poke your head into any dangerous electrical currents this time."

"I was making a point! Nothing happened! Well, my hand got fried, but…" She trailed off. "Never mind."

Her expression was so odd that Danzo actually asked, "something the matter?"

Río quickly looked up. "No, nothing. I'm off then."

A moment later, she once again placed the lemonade pitcher upon her head again and hopped out of the window.

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, in another part of the village, Itachi was crouching by Sakura’s window. Her room was empty, much to his dismay. The last he’d checked two hours ago, Sakura had still been unconscious… and then he had been called to a meeting with Danzo. Now he was back, but Sakura was absent.

Itachi had already modified her parents’ memories to think their daughter had been home all along, as opposed to missing for two nights and a day. He’d also modified Sakura’s own recollection so she wouldn’t realize she’d been unconscious at all, but he wasn’t sure whether it had worked properly.

He wanted to see her, make sure she was alright… Most pressingly, he wanted to check whether he could revert the memory-altering genjutsu. The thing was, he hadn’t realized this until later, but there was a very pressing question he now couldn’t ask her. Namely, how had Sakura known that the missing ANBU agent was at the Forest of Death? She must’ve been tipped off somehow, but now that Itachi had erased most of her memories of that day, he had no way of asking her about it… which was clearly a crucial piece of information. And there was no way he could admit to the hokage that he’d tampered with Sakura’s mind just to keep secrets from him. Yes, Itachi was starting to regret his rash decision to erase her memories. What had he been thinking?

Upon finding Sakura at the clearing, surrounded snake remains, his first instinct was to take her (as well as the other survivor) and run. And so, he’d bolted back to Konoha as fast as he could, unwilling to chance a meeting with the snake’s summoner. After all, there were only two possible candidates to have called upon the snake: Anko… and Orochimaru.

Supposing it had been Anko, then that meant she had covertly grown much stronger than the village was aware of. And a ninja that willingly concealed his strength from its own village was usually a bad sign… it was normally the mark of a would-be traitor. On the other hand, if the summoner had been Orochimaru himself, then that was even worse news and didn’t bode well for the future at all. Because, from what Itachi knew, Orochimaru wasn’t one to act without a motive. And if he had risked coming back… well, the timing couldn’t be worse.

The problem was, at this point in time, it was impossible to know which possibility was true.

 

 

If only Itachi had conserved Sakura’s memories…

 

 

As he left the Haruno’s house, Itachi reflected upon his situation. Now that there was a possible threat in the horizon, Danzo had covertly ordered him to be on standby in case of a worst-case scenario situation… though the hokage had no idea that Itachi was still in the village. Jiraiya, too, had opted to stay, though his reasoning was that he wanted to do “research”, which was code for spying on naked women. To be honest, Itachi wasn’t sure if he really meant it, or if the Sannin had also picked up on the possible threat and was worried too.

Itachi, on his part, had two problems: one was in the form of Kakashi and Jiraiya, who might still keep looking for him, which meant that staying at an inn was out of the question from now on – he’d have to acquire some other lodgings.

His other problem was considerably larger, namely, the Akatsuki.

The only reason Itachi had been able to stay in Konoha for so long was due to the nature of Akatsuki missions, which often involved a great deal of waiting. For instance, his current mission could be put on hold until the second of August. At that date, the courtesan he and Kisame were supposed to assassinate was scheduled to make an appearance at a certain event, hence the wait until then. It wasn’t uncommon for them to embark on such missions, as after all, the shinobi profession involved a lot more waiting than most people gave it credit for, especially in the case of missing nin, which hadn’t the resources of an entire village’s spy network at their disposal. Due to this, it was common for Akatsuki pairs to split up during waiting periods. The freedom that this allowed, after all, was one of the organization’s most attractive aspects, and if Itachi was honest, probably the reason why many of its members had agreed to join in the first place. Due to this, when Itachi had suggested he and Kisame split up until the first of August, it hadn’t raised any red flags. But now that his stay in Konoha would be lengthened even more… well, he feared he might have to leave the village at the worst possible moment.

 

 

 

 

 

Just as he was thinking this, he saw her: Sakura was walking down the path with a downtrodden gait. Seeing her flawless skin, unmarred from the previous lacerations and burns, made Itachi sigh with relief. Though upon looking more closely… he realized that she wasn’t as unmarred as he’d first thought: her forehead bore a scar. It was oval-shaped, reminiscent of an uneven semicircle, though the fine, white line cut itself off at the middle. How odd… Wait.

It was only then that Itachi realized with horror that Sakura had gotten it from bumping into him – it was summarily his fault. But what was even worse – at the time, Itachi had been meaning to leave the village for good, so he’d been completely clothed in his missing nin regalia… including his slit forehead protector. Sakura’s scar, he concluded with shock, was an imprint of part of the forehead protector’s depicted leaf symbol, with a jagged line right through its center. The very line which depicted treason.

If Sakura realized what the odd scar was… if she realized why the semicircle cut itself off at the middle… He bit his lip tensely. She had all the clues. She had all the clues written right on her forehead. Now she only needed to put them together and she’d realize that Itachi was a missing nin and then–

He’d started panicking in earnest when she spotted him.

“Hey, um, Tetsuya!” Sakura greeted with a wave. “How are you doing?”

Itachi stared at her, honestly confused, until he remembered that ah yes, his alias was in fact Tetsuya. He’d grown so used to her endearing ‘stalker-san’ moniker that Tetsuya felt like an unwelcome change. Though he couldn’t very well tell her that without seeming suspicious…

“I have been better,” Itachi admitted, voicing the understatement of the century. “How are you?”

“A bit odd,” said Sakura, touching her scar gingerly.

“Do not worry about that,” Itachi told her, looking at the scar also. He felt terrible for giving the poor, fashion-conscious genin a scar in such a visible place. Worse even for unknowingly branding the missing nin symbol right across her forehead… or at least a part of it. The leaf symbol was thankfully unrecognizable, but it was the principle of the matter. She didn’t deserve such a foul imprint… and it was his fault, even in spite the fact that he was loyal to a fault. Just how ironic could his life get? Itachi almost felt like his life was one big drama series and some god out there was laughing their ass off at him.

Meanwhile, Sakura was frowning, refusing to meet his eyes. “I guess,” she said forlornly, kicking a pebble. “It’s easier said than done… I mean, I’m stuck with this scar for life, Stalker-s… Tetsuya. Do you know how long that is?”

He did. At least, he hoped it would be long, for her sake. Even so, Itachi felt the need to comfort her as she had done to him so many times. Copying Sakura’s own technique, which had worked well enough on him in the past, Itachi put a tentative hand on her shoulder, feeling rather awkward as he did so.

“Do not worry,” he said, trying (and probably failing) to make his voice sound less blank than his usual. Acting on a spur of the moment hunch, he added: “If you wish, Sakura, I can teach you a genjutsu to hide it. The technique barely takes any chakra and it will be as if you never even had a scar in the first place.”

Sakura looked up at him hesitantly. “You’d do that?”

Itachi nodded.

“That’s… thank you, that means a lot. It’s just…” she sighed. “I feel so pathetic!”

Itachi almost took a step back, startled by her outburst. Pathetic? She had single-highhandedly defeated the snake king and rescued an ANBU’s life in the process. She was twelve and not even from a clan (he was beginning to realize that this made a big difference), not to mention how genuinely nice and caring Sakura was; everything she did was so heartfelt and just – honest. If anything, Itachi could respect that in a ninja, though he himself wasn’t exactly the epitome of honesty… but this only made Sakura’s outlook feel even more so refreshing.

And so, Itachi was almost offended on her behalf as he repeated:

“Pathetic?”

“Yes!” Sakura exclaimed, morosely kicking yet another pebble. “I’m such a terrible, useless kunoichi…! I can’t even get scarred right! What did I do in the Wave mission? Nothing. In the bell test? Nothing. In the chunin exam? It was my entire fault that we failed! I’m so, so, so – ugh!” She threaded her hands through her hair, pulling on it angrily.

Meanwhile, Itachi only wished he could tell her all she’d done at the forest. He wished he could tell her that this very scar she had obtained because she was trying to save someone’s life – in an act of slightly foolish though unmistakably selfless bravery.

“Sakura,” he said with conviction. “That scar – it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But, but–”

“No, listen to me. Only days ago, you were too afraid of heights to perform a simple back flip. Now, you are capable of jumping,” he attempted to remember what she’d told him, “ah, over a two story height. That’s… that’s…” Itachi tried to channel his inner Kakashi, hoping for some wholesome words to come to him. “That scar, it symbolizes you conquering your fears,” he settled on. “Do you understand? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

By the time he was finished, Sakura was staring at him wide-eyed.

“You… you really think so?”

Itachi nodded all business like. “Absolutely.”

Sakura broke out into a radiant grin and without warning tackled him into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you! That’s just what I needed to hear! Stalker-san, you’re the best!”

Itachi smiled warmly. He had to admit, that speech had been a stellar save, if he did say so himself.

 

Notes:

So, I hope you liked it! If that's the case, please leave me a comment -- otherwise I feel like I'm some kind of servant, not a human. That isn't to say I don't appreciate the people who do comment. As a matter of fact, I love absolutely every one of the lines you guys drop, but I feel like it's always the same old gang commenting (my faves!) and yet there's almost three hundred of you following this story. (and isn't that humbling!) But only the same 10-15 folks comment.

To all those silent masses who never even bother to say thank you, just letting you know that those people who do, those are the ones who truly keep me going, writing even when I could be doing something more fun or my motivation is low.
So yeah, to those of you -- you know who you are -- thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I really, really, really do appreciate the effort, even if I don't answer to you immediately -- you can be sure that I read and cherish every one of your comments many times over. I love y'all :)

Chapter 13: Panic

Summary:

Recapping: There are two political factions now–Danzo’s (who wants to act immediately, operating under the assumption that Orochimaru is plotting an invasion) and Hiruzen’s, who wants to basically wait and see.
As discussed with his right hand woman, Río, Danzo believes that ANBU’s lieutenant commander Itona Takenaka is a spy of Orochimaru’s so he’s looking for a legal loophole to fire him.

Notes:

Basically, this is the last chapter you’re gonna get in a long while of lighthearted Itasaku-fluff, so enjoy.
Also, this monster was supposed to be a regular 9-10k thing, but then I added the note scene and the closet scene (you’ll get there in a bit) which is originally only glossed over and here we are. 16k. I regret nothing.
ALSO!! (I’m not done ranting yet) you guys’ support last chapter was overwhelming! It made me so happy to hear from you, truly! You can’t imagine how much. As I said to some people, I’m not a picky author, any comment makes me happy. I know I still haven’t answered to some of you, but I honestly thought you’d appreciate me focusing on getting this chapter out more. Now I have to wash the dishes and after that, I’ll be answering to every last one of you :)
So… enjoy!

Smoke swept across the room. The sandaime hokage took a deep drag from his pipe.

 

“I’ll be direct, Kakashi. We have reason to believe that Sand has brought their jinchuriki into the village. I want you to look into it.”

Kakashi tensed. Jinchuriki were no joke, he knew better than most. “How trustworthy is your source, sandaime-sama?”

Hiruzen chuckled. “Well, that depends on your meaning. My source is Danzo.”

Kakashi tensed even more. Danzo? He wasn’t the type of fellow Kakashi would ever turn his back to, but his intelligence network could definitely be relied on. The hokage seemed to read his thoughts.

“Yes. That’s why I want you on this mission. Since Danzo was the one who found out about this possible threat, he’ll be sending an agent of his own as well.”

Wait, what? Kakashi frowned. “Ah… surely you don’t mean for me to work with someone from Root, hokage-sama?”

Hiruzen took yet another deep drag from his pipe, smoke blowing out of his nostrils and curling around his form. “I’m sorry to say – that is exactly what I mean, Kakashi. You’ll have to work with the Root commander.”

The what? Had he gone insane?

Kakashi gave the hokage a bewildered look. “Can I not go on this mission with someone else? I mean, my history with Root isn’t exactly–”

Hiruzen sighed. “I understand your concern, Kakashi, but the decision has already been made. Not only is he qualified for this mission, but your going with him will also allow us to gather intelligence on Danzo’s number two… an individual I’ve been trying to track down for a very long time indeed. You remember the man who stuck his hand into the Chidori that day, don’t you?”

Kakashi was silent for a long while. How could he forget? This… was he finally going to confront that creep?

 

“Alright,” said Kakashi slowly, “but ‘the Root commander’? I didn’t even know such a position existed,” he admitted. “Frankly, it can’t be good news that he’s being sent with me. Danzo must be planning something.”

“I know,” Hiruzen said. “I myself am very surprised that Danzo would trust anyone enough to have them aboard as a second in command… be careful with this guy, Kakashi. He is bad news.” Hiruzen paused ominously. “Officially, you will be working together on this mission, but don’t lower your guard. The Root commander is not someone to be thrifted with..”

“Then why should I tag along?” Kakashi questioned, liking this Root character less and less. “This sounds like a trap.”

“That’s just the thing,” said Hiruzen. “Danzo was the one to request backup for this. From what I could gather, despite his faith in his agent, he wanted to have someone on the team who knew fuinjutsu just in case. It could be a trap as you say, but…” Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “I have known Danzo my whole life and he seemed ill at ease… if I read this right, his  commander must be a very important piece in his chessboard – so much so, that he would go as far as to ask for my help to make sure it stays safe.” The look his eyes became intense, almost obsessed as he continued. “Kakashi, this is our chance to find a strong weakness in his armor. If the new Root commander is as important as I think, then we truly could gain something from this mission. I want you to find what his weaknesses are – his routine, his habits. You must memorize his smell so that you kind locate him later on…”

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably. “Hokage-sama? Is this… an assassination mission?”

“No, not yet. We don’t know anything about this shinobi. But I expect you to take this assignment and find out as much as you can about the Root commander. If I’m not mistaken about who we’re dealing with here… this might be a one in a lifetime chance. Do you understand?”

 

Kakashi gave his superior a nervous eye crinkle. “Yes, hokage-sama. I won’t let you down.”

Hiruzen smirked, taking yet another deep drag from his pipe. “Good. Then report to the Academy in an hour. He will meet you there. And Kakashi, when I say an hour, I mean it.”

 

 

 

After Itachi’s improvised speech, things had calmed down. He and Sakura had almost automatically fallen into their usual routine and before he knew it, they were sitting upon their bench, comfortably people-watching in silence as they each chewed on mochi and dango respectively. 

It was then that Itachi began to silently ruminate on and on about Sakura’s scar. He was confident he had eased some of her insecurities about it, but he still believed she should have the choice to hide it if she wished to. Being comfortable with it didn’t mean Sakura hadn’t a right to wish to look her best – and more importantly, it would be in Itachi’s best interests as well if she concealed it, as he had no desire for to Sakura find out about his supposed treason. The notion still sent his heart into a frenzy.

But on the other hand, hiding the scar might only pique other jonins’ cuRíosity… namely Kakashi’s. It was in a ninja’s very nature to poke their heads into other people’s business, and Kakashi was a classic example of this. In that sense, keeping the scar on display might be better – it was a way to hide it in plain sight, so to speak. But then again, most ninja weren’t very good at spotting genjutsu, especially if Itachi was in charge of said genjutsu.

He, for one, knew of an appearance-altering illusion which was so subtle that not even the sharingan could pick up on it unless it had seen the caster without the illusion first. This of course only worked due to the fact that the genjutsu was confined to the individual and not the environment, thus resulting in a very subtle change in the caster’s chakra flow… but if performed properly, it was virtually untraceable, even for the likes of Kakashi, who wasn’t a true master of the sharingan…

He had only first thought of the genjutsu fleetingly, trying to come up with easier alternatives, but the more Itachi ruminated on the topic, the more he came back to that particular technique. It was a favorite of his due to its extraordinary effectiveness and most importantly: how little chakra it took.

As its objective was to alter the user’s own appearance, no chakra needed to be channeled outwardly for the technique, which in theory would make it possible in a ‘perfect chakra control’ scenaRío to use up no chakra at all. Though of course, such a thing as perfect chakra control didn’t exist, though Tsunade of the Sannin had gotten quite close.

Yes… It was her Itachi had copied the genjutsu from.

During one of his first ANBU missions, his team had stumbled across the woman in an ugly skirmish at a betting house near the border. Itachi had been eleven at the time and a little full of himself, he now reflected with amusement, and so, watching in person the wonders of Tsunade’s chakra control had left him reeling for days. The sight of her flawless chakra efficiency (a term coined to denote how much excess chakra a ninja spent) had been an eye-opener for him. He had believed until then that he was a genjutsu expert. But after seeing her?

The woman walked around with a genjutsu so complex, so intricately woven, most Uchiha wouldn’t even notice it was there. No man knew what Tsunade’s true appearance was. And she wore the illusion daily, like an old, comfortable cloak. Like it was nothing. Itachi still remembered the mission as clearly as it had been yesterday.

“Watch and learn,” Kakashi (his captain at the time) had told him cheerily, right in the middle of the battle field, as they were surrounded by over fifty mobsters. “This is going to be fun.”

“But taichou! Shouldn’t we interfere?” Tenzo had questioned with alarm, looking around at the various mafia members in the area. The rest of team Ro had shifted around uneasily, but Kakashi had by contrast settled into a comfortable position, as though preparing to look at an interesting movie.

“Maa, if you want to get a fistful of brain matter, be my guest, Tenzo,” he had replied flippantly. “But as far as I’m concerned, the mission’s already complete. Look.”

And then they had proceeded to watch in mute shock as the female Sannin had gone on what one could only call…  a rampage. 

In a matter of minutes, she’d  single-handedly taken down an entire drug ring, pummelled the mobster in charge, and, once he’d passed out, proceed to bring the poor mafia boss back from the dead by fixing his spinal cord, and then punched a ten foot crater into the earth just to dig out her money. All of this, one ought to mention, without breaking a sweat. Not to mention, whilst looking drop-dead gorgeous and effortlessly maintaining the most refined genjutsu Itachi had seen up to that point.

Needless to say, Tsunade had been his first boyhood flame.

 

 

In any case, this chance encounter with the slug princess had forced a younger Itachi to reconsider his entire approach to the art of illusions as a whole. Since that fateful (in his opinion) day, he had begun to devote a great deal of his training to improving his chakra control, which, upon reaching ANBU level, was a very hard thing to do. It was a rather frustrating process, as Uchiha weren’t exactly built for finesse but rather to wield raw power, and it had taken him hours upon hours of practice to get even moderately close to the kind of control he’d seen Tsunade-hime exhibit. Even to this day, the gap between them was still quite large. But he’d never regret all those ours of frustrating training.

In fact, Itachi couldn’t even count the number of times he’d thanked his lucky stars for it, especially since he’d become a missing-nin, and more so since his illness had begun to ravage his body and consequently his chakra reserves.

So to summarize: Tsunade’s body-altering illusion was perhaps his favorite genjutsu of all time, not because of any particular intricacies (which there were), but rather, because it had taught him one of the most valuable lessons of his career… and it never failed to make him feel a happy kind of nostalgia as a bonus. Her technique was A-level, almost S-level, due to the fact that it took very, very good chakra control to master… and it had taken him an admittedly long time until he could perform it satisfactorily.

However, after seeing the kind of chakra control Sakura possessed, the way she had so intuitively created her very own technique – the air step – Itachi believed she could do it. And for some even stranger reason, he suddenly found himself excited at the prospect of teaching it to her.

And so, he spoke up:

“Do you still wish to learn the genjutsu I mentioned, Sakura?”

Sakura blinked at him owlishly. “I mean, sure… but… wouldn’t it be a bit of a hassle to keep it active all the time?”

Despite himself, Itachi found himself smiling. Sakura’s thoughts mirrored exactly his own from back then…

Without even meaning to, he ended up recounting the details of that fateful mission to her, mildly omitting some parts, but describing with great care what he remembered about Tsunade and how amazing she’d been. No sooner had he started, Sakura had gone completely starry eyed, and somehow, her receptiveness to his story had encouraged Itachi to delve even deeper into the meat of it. He even found he was enjoying himself quite a bit as he recounted such a fond memory. By the time he was done, Sakura was as enamored with the Sannin as him.

“Oh my god!” she screamed excitedly. “That’s just so, so, so…!”

“You have no words.”

“Exactly!”

Needless to say, after that, it didn’t take much convincing to get her invested in learning the technique.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kakashi was, for once in his life, being kept waiting. If this weren’t already suspicious enough, he was waiting by the Academy swing of all places, feeling completely out of his depth.

And there were so many things wrong with that sentence that he didn’t even know where to begin. Him? Waiting? That happened once in a blue moon… not to mention their weird meeting place. The sight of the Academy brought him back to a time that made him feel raw. It brought him back to the death of his father, to his first meeting with Obito and Rin, the start of his rivalry with Gai, and yes, even his first meeting with team seven. 

All of these memories held deep emotions tied to them for varying reasons, and the thing was… Kakashi didn’t do emotions. Which is why he felt so out of his depth – partly, at least. It was also because he’d shortly be working with the Root commander. Kakashi’s ever so paranoid mind whispered that the man had told him to meet there precisely so that he started overthinking things: to get to him. For sure this was some kind of nefarious plan to unsettle him… that was Danzo’s MO after all.

“I can practically hear you thinking from over here,” a voice suddenly piped up.

I can hear you thinking? That was a strange choice of words…

Kakashi was not proud of his reaction, but out of surprise he accidentally tossed a barrage of shuriken at the person.

In a curious parody of his genin’s bell test, the speaker absently caught the shuriken between two fingers, letting them spin until they lost their momentum, and then deftly pocketed them.

On his part, Kakashi’s stingy tendencies nearly had him asking to have them back, but he barely just managed to restrain himself. Now wasn’t the time.

“Oh, right. Here you go,” said the speaker, retrieving the shuriken and holding them out. “Sorry for pocketing them.”

Kakahi eyed the speaker warily. The fact that he was wearing a mask, albeit a weird one, made it more than clear that this was who he’d been waiting for – the Root commander. Even if he didn’t really act like Kakashi would’ve expected him to. 

“On second thought…” Kakashi said slowly, eyeing the shuriken being returned to him. “You can keep them.” He sure wasn’t about to touch anything the Root commander had.

 The Root commander stared at him blankly, then at his discarded weapons. “You don’t want your shuriken back?” 

Kakashi waved him off, watching as the man hesitantly pocketed them. His gaze was again drawn to the mask. It was not a normal mask. There were no embellishments of any kind drawn upon it, nor any shape that would mimic features of any kind: it looked almost as though someone had taken an old porcelain tray and smashed it to get a makeshift mask, with two ragged, vertical lines that functioned as eye-slits.

For some reason, Kakashi felt like he knew of this mask from somewhere, even if a larger part of his brain told him that he’d remember having seen it, what with how odd it was. Still, that sense of deja vu persisted.

The Root commander made a hesitant noise to draw his attention. “Would you care to discuss the mission?”

Kakashi didn’t answer. Without prompt, an old memory had hit him and suddenly he knew just who that mask belonged to.  

Little was known about the Mind Flayer other than cautionary tales in shady pubs. To be honest, Kakashi himself had until today doubted such a ninja even existed, but now he knew otherwise. He'd first heard of that mask on a mission. It was a very shady, village financed S Rank mission. His exact orders had been to find out more about ‘someone capable of reading thoughts on command, without the need of physical contact’ and, if he were to come across such a person, to capture or kill them. Kakashi still didn’t know how or why the hokage had known. When he’d asked for specifics, for a description or a reason behind the odd assignment, he’d been treated to a glare and silence.

Much to Kakashi's surprise, it had been a very hard mission. He’d searched everywhere to no avail. He'd begun to think that the hokage was just having him on. Even though he was perhaps the best tracker of his generation (and not just because of his nose but also his wits), Kakashi had barely found out anything at all about this mind reading ninja, only second-hand accounts of people who had heard from other people about such a person that made him out to be an urban legend more than anything.

He’d been ready to give up when he’d hit the jackpot. An old woman claimed to have seen the fellow. She had creatively dubbed him the Mind Flayer and her account had been by far the most convincing (though that wasn’t saying much). She’d described watching, hidden behind earth and bushes, as the Mind Flayer took out a group of over ten jonin on his own. She described him as a warrior that seemed to know what his opponents' attacks would be even before they themselves did. She described watching him place a hand on their temples and how, after passing out and subsequently waking up, none of them remembered the encounter (complete defeat) at all, laughing the woman off when she’d narrated what had happened.

Now, with no small amount of trepidation, Kakashi now eyed the person standing in front of him, wearing a mask that resembled the woman’s description too much to be a coincidence. This man, the Root commander, was the Mind Flayer. Holly shit. Had the hokage known this all along?

“Are you quite done?” the mind flayer piped up.

Kakashi stared at him.

“And… I don’t know where you heard that Mind Flayer crap, but… please stop. It sounds gross. I’d really rather go by Río.”

 

Kakashi continued to stare.

He can read my mind right now? he thought with alarm. Without physical contact?! 

“Well, if you keep broadcasting your thoughts like that… it’s akin to having noisy neighbors, you know.”

He stared at the mind flayer in horror. This was even worse than the rumors. This was… Wait , the ever-vigilant part of Kakashi’s brain cautioned. Don’t think about him. I can’t give him any kind of edge.

“You catch on pretty quick, huh,” said the mind flayer mirthfully. “To control the flow of your own thoughts is hard, but probably your best shot. Give me a cup, I’ll take a vase and all that.”

Right, that was – wait. Did he just make up a saying? 

“I suppose so…? I thought it was an actual turn of phrase?”

Kakashi stared at him. Yeah right. The mind Flayer was definitely messing with him somehow. What was his game?

“Cut me some slack here. I’m Root. I do my best, but we’re not exactly a well-adjusted bunch.” 

Kakashi continued to stare at him.

 “…don’t look at me like that! I made up a saying, it’s not like I kicked a puppy.” 

Kakashi was at a loss. How could he act so casual? He was the mind flayer, darn it! Why was he being friendly? What was his angle?

This guy, he could tell, was dangerous on a whole other level than Zabuza. He wasn’t just strong – he was a master manipulator, and by the looks of it, incredibly cunning.

“I’m really not sure whether to be offended by that or not.” 

Ugh, thought Kakashi. Would he keep reading his thoughts like this all day?

“Sorry. But that’s akin to telling you not to use your enhanced sense of smell to detect deceit, read emotions and so on in the middle of a mission.”

How does he know about that? Kakashi thought furiously. I haven't told anyone I do that in over a decade!

 

“Surely you can turn off your mind-reading abilities whilst working with an ally though?” he tried asking out loud. “We have a common goal during this mission. There’s no need to read my thoughts.”

“If you didn’t broadcast them quite so loudly, maybe,” Rio said. “You have a very active mind, you know. Very rapid-fire neurons right there. I approve. Good broadcasting speed.”

That’s it, concluded Kakashi. What does he take me for, a radio? If anything, the radio was this guy, Kakashi thought viciously. You can show yourself right out, mind radio.

Now it was the Root commander’s turn to stare.

“You know, this conversation is not what I was expecting,” he said after a beat. Kakashi swore he heard him mutter: “I mean… mind radio, of all things…” 

“I try,” he replied blandly. In truth, Kakashi agreed. This felt surreal. Completely fever-dream like.

“Nice,” said the mind radio. “But call me Río. Please.”

Río the radio, Kakashi thought.

Judging by the subsequent silence, he could tell Rio had no idea what to do with him. There was an awkward pause.

“Right… anyway. Shouldn’t we discuss the mission? Do you have any questions?”

“Ah,” said Kakashi after a beat. “Well, the mission parameters are straightforward enough, but I have one tiny doubt, Radio–”

“Río.”

“Ridio.”

He could practically feel the mind radio’s eyebrows twitch, though he wasn’t corrected again.

“What.”

“How do you know that our target is here?” Kakashi asked. He hadn’t heard anything of a jinchuriki visiting, and he usually was the first to find out about these things. So how had Danzo…?

“That’s classified,” Rio said. 

“I feel like I need some context here,” Kakashi needled. He didn’t really need context of course, but the more information he could wheedle the better.

“Let’s just say that we had a tip, and I really can’t tell you anything else. Also, stop calling me that.”

“Stop reading my thoughts and we’ll have a deal, ne?”

Rio sighed. “Listen Kak – Hatake-san. Can I be frank with you?”

Kakashi waved his hand. “Knock yourself out.”

“Alright. Well… just so you know, I don’t mean you any harm. I trust your integrity as a shinobi, but… I don’t trust your orders. I hope I’m wrong, but frankly, you could be plotting for ways to kill me at this very instant,” Rio said. “Taking that into account, can you blame me for reading your surface thoughts?”

For a second, Kakashi was floored. “Mou. So paranoid,” he managed to reply casually.

What he resolutely did not think about was that Rio happened to be right. His little side quest was to figure out how to kill him, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Itachi and Sakura were hard at work trying to master Tsunade’s genjutsu… or rather, discussing its mechanics in depth, because Sakura had insisted that she couldn’t possibly attempt the technique if she didn’t understand it, and as it had quickly turned out, she understood very little about genjutsu in general, which had prompted a lengthy discussion on genjutsu theory. Finally, when they finished talking about it, Itachi proposed Sakura give it a try… which she eagerly did. 

But she failed. Again and again, she failed.

“How is this possible?” Sakura said. “I understand everything, I know what the chakra is supposed to be doing, my hand-seals are perfect… I just don’t get it!”

Itachi sighed. “I was wrong to expect so much from you, Sakura,” he apologized. “This is practically an S-rank technique, we should try someth–”

“Did I ask?” Sakura interrupted rudely.

Itachi stilled, completely taken aback, but Sakura looked more vexed at herself than anything, so he imagined she hadn’t meant him any offense…

“Just tell me what I’m doing wrong,” she begged in a softer tone.

“You don’t have enough chakra control,” said Itachi shortly.

“But… but that’s impossible!”

“Sakura. This is an S-rank technique, one which has that rank expressly because of the required chakra control. What did you expect?”

“But – but I mastered the airstep faster than you! And you can do the genjutsu, can’t you?”

Itachi nodded. “Yes, but you mastered the airstep by solving the surface tension equations and applying the results practically, did you not? Chakra control had very little to do with that.” It was essential to the technique, yes, but it hadn’t been the missing puzzle piece, so to speak. Otherwise, the airstep would’ve been invented a lot sooner.

Sakura sighed, dejected. “And now what? I can already do the sand sticking chakra control exercise, the leaf-sticking exercise, I’ve mastered tree-walking, water-walking, air-steppting… What’s next?”

Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “After mastering all of these, chakra control is hard to improve upon, manly because there aren’t many more exercises to do so,” he explained. “However, back when I was attempting to master Tsunade-hime’s illusory technique, I delved quite deep in as many obscure chakra exercises as I could.”

“And?” asked Sakura excitedly.

“I found one exercise that sealing masters of old as well as medics used to employ in order to further their training in the advanced stages of their careers.”

“Really?” asked Sakura excitedly. “That’s so interesting! But why ‘used to’? Did they get tired of it? Is it dangerous?”

Itachi chuckled. “No, it’s not dangerous, though it’s notoRíously difficult… and requires expensive materials. Modern medicine has other ways to improve upon chakra control thanks to some of the complex surgical procedure simulations Tsunade-sama invented which is why the old method was discarded. Sealing masters are also nearly extinct.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Yes,” said Itachi. “And as I gather that you aren’t up for a coronary disease operation at the moment, I propose following the old method.”

Sakura giggled. “HilaRíous. And you’re right – I wouldn’t want to inflict myself upon some poor old man. Or woman.”

“It would be a dummy,” said Itachi with a chuckle. “And with enough practice, you could become a med nin eventually… but yes, at the moment, I believe that would be for the best.”

Sakura blinked. “You really thing I could become a med-nin? But that’s so… not glorified. And expensive! I don’t have a clan to sponsor me, remember?”

“Tsunade-hime invented med-nins. As far as I’m concerned, anything to do with her is very much gloRíous,” Itachi countered. “But you’re probably right, Sakura. Getting into the medical program would be a little hard without the capital… But in any case, are you up for the chakra exercise?”

Sakura nodded. “Sure! What is it?”

“Well… how to explain…” Itachi trailed off. “Are you familiar with chakra paper?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Sakura, frowning at the unhappy recollection. “What about it?”

“The tree that produces it is the ginkgo biloba.”

When Sakura stared at him blankly, Itachi looked back at her, almost offended. “You don’t know about the ginkgo biloba tree?”

“Should I?” she said confusedly.

“Of course,” Itachi remarked. “I can’t believe this. I thought you were well-read, yet you don’t know about the ginkgo biloba tree.”

“Hey, I am well-read!”

“So you truly don’t know about the ginkgo biloba tree…” he muttered to himself.

“Stop saying ginkgo biloba! It’s annoying!”

“Why? The ginkgo biloba is–”

“–your favorite tree, I get it,” said Sakura. “Now, can we move on with the conversation?”

“Not until I educate you on the facts of the gikgo biloba,” Itachi said in a ‘take it or leave it’ kind of tone.

Sakura rolled her eyes, smiling wryly. “Fine. Enlighten me.”

He proceeded to do just that.

“Firstly, the ginkgo biloba is the oldest tree in existence,” he lectured. “It has been noted to have existed since the Jurassic ages and is called the fossil tree for a reason.”

“Uh-uh.”

“An interesting fact to note,” continued Itachi, “is that the ginkgo biloba trees were the only survivors of the legendary Shukaku no Rasna’s bomb blast during the Third Shinobi War.”

“Rasna?” Sakura questioned. “Hmm… I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

Itachi’s eyes gleamed knowingly, though he forged on undeterred: “There were four trees that were charred, but survived. They are still said to be alive and flourishing, and have since been called by many villagers the trees of life.”

“Good for them.”

“Another intriguing fact about ginkgo trees is that their bark and leaves are said to secrete a sap with fire-retardant properties.”

“That’s, umm… nice, I guess?”

“Nice?” said Itachi. “Sakura, it saved my life.”

“Uh. Really?”

“Yes. The sap’s fire-retardant properties once aided me against an enemy shinobi with great prowess in his fire jutsu,” Itachi remarked. “Never overlook such facts about nature, Sakura, for they might very well one day pose the difference between life and death.”

Sakura nodded dutifully, resigned to getting ‘the full ginkgo biloba experience’.” She had never seen Itachi so passionate about anything before, and if it made him happy, well, she was prepared to endure his rant.

Wow… she thought, he must really like those trees.

“Alright. That’s, er, interesting,” is what she said out-loud. “What else can you tell me?”

“Hmm… you like to read, don’t you, Sakura?”

“I guess I do. Why?”

“In Konoha, the leaves of the tree are used as bookmarks, as they are known to protect the books from silverfish and booklice, due to their chemical composition.”

“Wait, seRíously? I have plenty of those leaf bookmarks! I never knew they came from that tree!”

“They do,” said Itachi with a pleased expression. “Not to mention, the leaves are shaped like a fan, Sakura. A fan .”

Clearly, the significance of this was lost on her, because Sakura just nodded dumbly. Or perhaps not, for she added: “Maybe I should get one for Sasuke then.”

This observation only seemed to please Itachi even more. “Good idea. Did you know, according to traditional medicine, ginkgo is thought to be an aphrodisiac?”

“Is it really?” exclaimed Sakura, suddenly very interested.

Itachi smirked. “Indeed.”

“Too bad then that I don’t like Sasuke any more,” she replied smartly.

Itachi stared at her, confused. “You… don’t?” He seemed almost sad to hear this.

“Nope,” said Sakura proudly. “My sights,” she said with a sigh, “are set on someone else now.”

Itachi looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “Isn’t there a chance you’ll reconsider?”

Sakura’s eyebrows knitted together. “What? What are you even suggesting? It’s not like Sasuke likes me back.”

Itachi said nothing to do that, but he kept staring at her with a kind of sad expression which was making Sakura uncomfortable.

““Hmp! Whatever,” she said, crossing her arms. “Why are we even talking about this?”

Itachi averted his eyes. “I was telling you about the advanced chakra exercise when I discovered your staggering lack of knowledge regarding ginkgo biloba tree facts.” He somehow managed to sound offended by this.

“Ah. Right. Please remind me what the ginkgo biloba has to do with that?”

“By the way, did you also know that Confucius used to spend a lot of time reading and writing underneath a ginkgo tree?”

“That’s riveting, but can we please get on with it?”

Itachi laughed, bemused. “Alright. Well, the ginkgo biloba, as I said, is the source of chakra paper… but what most people don’t know is that one can also derive chakra threads from it.”

“Chakra threads?”

“Aa. They are outwardly like normal threads, but they dissolve as soon as a certain amount of chakra is channeled into them. They are often utilized in surgical procedures, as they pose great advantages due to their easy removal.”

“That makes sense,” said Sakura thoughtfully. “How do they work? What are they for?”

“Well, you would have to channel your chakra into them and move them with your chakra.”

“That’s actually possible?” Sakura questioned, eyes widened.

“It is,” Itachi confirmed. “In fact, many med-nins use them to complete surgeries… chakra threads have the aditional advantage that they only react to the first chakra frequency they are infused with, so that makes removal very easy for anyone with good control.”

“But that’s amazing!” Sakura exclaimed. “How would I even train with them though?”

“Well,” said Itachi. “First, you would have to try to move one thread. Getting it to move without breaking it already requires much control. Once you improve, I suppose you could try to move many of them at once, perhaps even infusing them with different chakra frequencies… the possibilities are endless.”

“Woah,” said Sakura, suddenly feeling very small again. Would she be able to do all those things?

“So…” she ventured after a lengthy pose, trying to think more practically about the situation. “You said earlier they were expensive. Just how expensive are we talking here?”

“Nothing that couldn’t be purchased for with a well-paying D-rank,” Itachi supplied.

“Hm. That’s good then.”

“It is.”

“But there’s just one problem.”

“What?”

“Kaka-sensei canceled our missions for the day! And for tomorrow as well!”

“Can’t you wait?”

“Of course I can’t wait! Would you wait if Tsunade-hime’s jutsu was within reaching distance? Huh? Would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then that settles it!”

“Settles… what?” Itachi asked slowly.

“We go on a mission!”

“The two of us?”

“Yep!” said Sakura excitedly. “With the chunin exams, civilians need as many helping hands as they can get! And with my contacts, I bet I can secure an unofficial mission off the books! That way, the money that usually goes to taxes will be mine!”

Itachi retreated a step, slightly wary of the odd gleam in Sakura’s eye.

“Remind me never to steal from you,” he said, marveling at her money-embezzling capabilities. If she ever did become a merchant, the guilds all across the world had better prepare, for a monster would be born.

But by then, Sakura’s mind was already far away, presumably plotting their next move.

 

 

 

 

 

Her declaration did not disappoint: half an hour later, they had landed an extremely well-paying job thanks to Sakura’s civilian “contacts”. Itachi was starting to think that hailing from civilian parents might have some advantages after all…

The mission she’d managed to land them was a simple painting job. Its only difficulty lay in the fact that they had to paint a very tall building, but with Sakura’s newly conquered fear of heights, this was no longer an issue.

The actual problem revealed itself once they were finishing the first paint coat of the upper area:

“Wait a moment…” said Sakura suddenly, her voice tinted with dismay. “How are we going to paint what’s underneath our feet?”

“You could–”

“I am not waiting for the paint to dry!”

Itachi smirked. “I was going to say: you could do this .”

And without further ado, he suddenly swung his feet off the wall, switching to his hand instead. In other words, he was now holding onto the wall only thanks to his hand, the palm of which was flatly pressed against it, though somehow – impressively – he had managed this all while remaining completely vertically against the wall, his body as straight as a flagpole. Then, Itachi went even further, switching from his palm to his index finger as his only point of contact, an action which required some major chakra distribution fine-tuning…

By the time he was satisfied he wouldn’t fall off, he turned around, pleased, only to find Sakura blushing.

“What?” he asked plainly.

She looked away.

“Nothing!”

“Just say it.”

“Alright, fine! Geez. It’s nothing. I just figured you must have… a lot of core strength to pull that off.”

“Obviously,” said Itachi blankly. Sometimes he really didn’t understand her at all. “Want to try?”

She gave him a miffed look.

“It’s also a good-chakra control exercise…” Itachi added with a smirk.

“You should’ve lead with that!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had absolutely no idea what they were doing there nor how it could relate to their upcoming intelligence gathering mission. His confusion only grew when Río promptly stopped in front of the… restroom facilities.

“Ah…” Kakashi ventured uncertainly. “Is there any reason why we’re here?”

“Yes.”

“Which is?”

“Um. Well, I thought we could meet in neutral grounds such as the Academy and use the facilities here to change into our disguise,” Río supplied. “Because… y’know. I figured you’d rather not set foot into Root headquarters.”

Right…

In all honesty, Kakashi was surprised (and grudgingly thankful) for Río’s consideration – he’d really rather avoid Danzo’s lair, thank you very much – but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Hm… I see how it is.”

“What.”

Kakashi turned toward Río, raising his eyebrows. “Public restrooms, really?”

Río crossed his arms. “Yes. So?”

Kakashi couldn’t help but find certain amusement in his obvious frustration.

“The Root commander, a cheapskate. Who would’ve guessed?”

“Are you offering your apartment then?” Río snapped.

“…”

“I thought so.”

Kakashi looked at the restroom again. It was used by Academy kids – enough said. Next to him, Río snorted.

“Is the great Hatake Kakashi scared of germs?”

Kakashi shot him a glare. He wasn’t scared of a restroom. He wasn’t. It was just… he had a sensitive sense of smell, alright!

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Río. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Wait,” Kakashi called.

The commander cocked his head questioningly, like a cat. “Now what?”

“Maa… I was thinking… why don’t we simply use a henge?”

“No. We cannot risk discovery at any cost, and you are well known enough that if they break the henge, it’d be a disaster.”

Or in other words, he’d have to go with a non-chakra dependent concealment. Kakashi sighed, giving Río a nod and subsequently venturing into the restroom. Disguise it was. 

 

 

 

 

He changed quickly into civilian clothes. Unfortunately, when he exited the stall, Kakashi came face to face with an Academy student. Kakashi looked at the kid and the kid looked at him.

“Oi! I know who you are!” he shouted. “You’re Naruto-nii-chan’s sensei, aren’t you!”

Right. Kakashi inwardly sighed, bemoaning the fact that he’d somehow managed to encounter the hokage’s grandson in a public restroom.

“How about you go back to class?” he suggested drolly.

“You can’t tell me what to do, old man!”

Kakashi sighed. To make matters worse, he suddenly picked up on light footsteps behind him.

Please not another kid, he thought with horror. If it was another kid, he’d get very slow, painful revenge on the Root commander. Except, when Kakashi turned around, it wasn’t a child standing there, but rather a …woman. Err, a woman was standing there.

 “Hah?” Konohamaru exclaimed. “Oi lady! You can’t be here! You’re not a boy!”

 

The woman was lithe and straight-backed. And fit. Glancing at Kakashi, then arching an eyebrow at Konohamaru, she advanced into the restroom, crouched in front of the kid, who stared back at her with a blush, and then smoothly placed a palm on his forehead, as though taking his temperature. Konohamaru immediately passed out.

The woman then lifted him quite effortlessly and dropped him inside one of the stalls, placing him gingerly upon the toilet seat, after which she turned back to him, looking about as awkward as Kakashi felt.

“Uh,” Kakashi said dumbly. “Are you… I mean. Are you…?”

The woman’s eyebrow quirked up. “Am I?”

Kakashi scowled. “Are you… the… I mean… did you, uh…?”

She seemed to take pity on him. “Are you trying to ask whether I’m Río or not?”

“Yes. That.”

She smiled. “Then yes. I’m Río. And before you ask, Konohamaru won’t remember this exchange, so don’t worry.”

That was good, but not the point. “I thought we’d said no hengue?” Kakashi questioned, annoyed.

Río looked at him blankly.

Kakashi stared back.

“I’m not using a hengue.”

But those breasts looked really realistic. Wait…

“You’re a woman,” heconcluded dumbly.

“…”

“…”

Río coughed. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Shit.

“Can we pretend this didn’t happen,” Kakashi said into the silence.

“Please,” she agreed.

Desperately, Kakashi searched for any topic – any topic at all – to divert the conversation. “Hm… how’s my disguise?”

“You only changed clothes.”

Right. Smooth, Hatake.

“Ma, I have a wig and contacts. I just didn’t put them on.”

“Alright.” Río gave him a quizzical look. “What will you do about your scar?”

“Makeup.”

“…and your mask?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I didn’t know it was suspicious to have a cold.”

Río frowned but didn’t say anything else. Clearly, she wouldn’t fight him on it, but she didn’t look all that pleased with his surgical mask idea. And yet, despite himself, Kakashi had to admit that she was right: this mission was too dangerous to risk ruining it over something as silly as insisting to keep wearing his mask. Surgical or not, they still attracted attention. Hell, he was an ANBU. He wouldn’t let his personal preferences get in the way. Gingerly, he slipped the mask off.

Sticking his hands into his pockets, Kakashi decided to inspect the ceiling, very much aware of the fact that half the village would kill to get a glimpse of his face. Of all the women who would’ve paid to see his face, it had to be this one that finally would manage it. And for free. Kakashi mourned the lost opportunity. This was so anticlimactic.

Meanwhile, Río was staring at her feet. What, wasn’t she interested in his face? No way. After he finally revealed it and she didn’t even look? He’d just pretend she had, for the sake of his vanity.

“Take your time,” Kakashi told her sarcastically.

“I wasn’t looking!” Rio snapped, not picking up on it.

Kakashi found her reaction too amusing to ignore. “Right.”

“I wasn’t. And you know it!”

“You were looking at the mirror just now.”

“I was looking at the floor!”

“Which is wet, so it acted like a mirror.”

“You… you’re a jerk! See if I bother to be considerate next time.”

Kakashi found he was grinning, but he forced himself to stop.

“Ma, you can look, you know. It’s not like my face is such a big deal. How did you disguise yourself anyway? Any facial changes?”

Río shrugged, looking up slowly. “My appearance isn’t public knowledge. Hardly anyone in this village…”

“Yes?”

“Oh. Um.” She hastily looked away from his face. “I am told that I look distinctly non-threatening, so I didn’t deem a disguise necessary.”

“So no facial changes?” Kakashi wanted to know.

Río gave him look. “What’s it to you? …and no.” She shrugged, staring determinedly at a wall. “I figured wearing something feminine and non-threatening would do.”

Well. His hormones felt slightly threatened but it wasn’t like that was any of her business. Wait. The mission. Focus!

“Ma. So what’s the plan?” Kakashi interrupted hastily. “Infiltrate the hotel as delivery guys or something?”

Rio pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Will they order food though?”

Kakashi frowned. “…probably not. Maybe we could go in as salespeople then?”

“Um… I have no clue about civilian topics, so what would we even say in our sales pitch? Talk about Jiraiya’s books?”

Kakashi very deliberately did not flush. She knew about that?

“You’re probably right. Maybe something else then,” he said quickly.

“Um… we could pretend to be… other guests or something?”

Kakashi frowned. “No, they’ll want to keep to themselves. The cliche cleaning lady disguise would sooner fool them than that.”

“I could do that…” Río offered hesitantly. “Not sure I’d be very good cleaning lady though. I don’t usually clean anything besides for training mats.”

Eh… right. He’d almost forgotten she was Root. “There’s not much science to it. Just mop the floor or something.”

“Okay…” She nodded to herself. “Mop the floor. Got it. And if I act odd, you could dress up as a bellhop and warn me discreetly.”

A bellhop? Kakashi couldn't help but snort at the ridiculousness of the idea. It was so bizarre that Gaara and his sand ilk would probably fall for it. If Naruto had taught him anything, then it was that unpredictability was a powerful weapon.

“Ma… they’ll never see us coming.”

Río was clearly fighting a grin. “And if they do, we’ll mop the floor with them.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes, but he was suppressing a grin too.

 

 

 

Meanwhile, back in last time’s hotel kitchen, Orochimaru and Kabuto had once again gathered to discuss their nefaRíous agenda.

”Orochimaru-sama?” Kabuto was saying. “The preparations are ready.”

“Marvelous,” rasped Orochimaru. “I can hardly wait…” He licked his tongue, almost as though savoring a nice snack.

“Are you sure you don’t want to follow your original plan?” Kabuto asked uncertainly.

Orochimaru stilled. “Kabuto… you don’t understand. You weren’t there… You didn’t see the way Sasuke was wrapped around his teammate’s little finger. He didn’t seem bent on getting power at all… he cares too much for his teammates.”

“I see. I suppose that would make it difficult to lure him away,” Kabuto admitted.

“Precisely. Letting him go now that I have the chance to take him would be too large a gamble. And unlike dear Tsunade, I don’t make a habit of losing my bets…” he finished with a smirk.

Kabuto smirked back, pleased.

“Very well, my lord. Tonight, it is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kakashi the bellhop and Rio the cleaning lady managed to sneak into their targets’ hotel staff changing room without many problems. Filching the respective uniforms for their disguise was like taking candy from a baby – but from that point on, their mission would get notably more complicated.

“Alright, so we shouldn’t get caught by them, but if we are, I’m just an innocent cleaning lady mopping the floor…” Rio was muttering to herself.

Kakashi scratched his wig and gave a hum of assent. The wig, makeup and contacts he’d donned felt itchy and uncomfortable. Plus, all the different smells that invaded his (now uncovered) nostrils made it much worse. The sooner they could finish this mission, the better. He and Rio both had plenty of motivation to work fast and so, half an hour later, the cleaning service plus bellhop were walking into room 118 without arousing the faintest suspicion. The guests of 118 had actually specified in their file that they wanted no cleaning staff anywhere in their room, but that was neither here nor there. Surely no one could blame an innocent cleaning lady for overseeing a small footnote in a tiny file?

Long story short, Kakashi and Río had managed to unearth Gaara and his team’s room number (the lady at the reception desk had been more than a little distracted once she’d seen Kakashi’s face) and from then on all they’d had to do was infiltrate the sand sibling’s hotel room in order to figure out whether Gaara was a jinchuriki or not and, if so, what he was doing in Konoha.

Fortunately, the sand siblings weren’t in, which gave them some time to investigate. Unfortunately, there were no clues lying around that could answer their questions. The three room area was clean, if heavily trapped. Little could be deduced from it other than that the sand siblings were ninja and that their jonin sensei was clearly good at traps.

After riffling around some more, they’d found out some weapon cleaners and polishers that seemed to point toward a puppet master and someone with a fan, but Kakashi had already known about that anyway from the chunin exams. There were no clues regarding Gaara’s possible choice of weapon – nor the jonin sensei’s. Speaking of him, their jonin sensei, a man called Baki, was purposefully being held up at the hokage tower under the pretenses of sorting out some paperwork paper work (courtesy of the hokage), which was good news, for it soon became apparent that they would need to spy on the sand siblings themselves to find out anything worthwhile.

This is why Kakashi and Rio made the decision to wait for their return. They were ANBU (and Root), so hiding was second nature to them… which is how they’d ended up in their current predicament.

 

Silently, they both listened to the approaching footsteps from their position on the ceiling. They came even closer and then the door opened, letting in two people. Neither of them was Gaara, Kakashi noted with annoyance. Even so, their current conversation more than made up for it.

“—of course I didn’t mean that!” the male sibling, Kankuro, was saying. Both siblings moved into another room, but the conversation could still be heard clearly.

There was a sigh, as the girl said: “Just cut the bullshit, Kankuro. We both know you did.” 

This was followed by a long silence, followed by that of a person plopping down on a bed. After this, the sounds of someone working… screws.

Must be the puppet, Kakashi deduced. Next to Kankuro, the girl had apparently started polishing her own weapon — ah, the fan.

Then someone sighed, ostensibly Temari, for she spoke next: “You know, I can’t blame you for feeling the way you do.” Another silence. Kakashi gave Río a questioning look, but she seemed just as mystified as him.

“I don’t know either,” she whispered. “They’re both very emotional right now.” 

“But can’t you read their minds?” Kakashi asked quietly. He’d already known about their heightened emotional state from his sense of smell.

“Yes, but I can’t read emotions. Their thoughts are too disjointed because of them,” Río murmured back.

Kakashi frowned, continuing to listen in.

“You… you don’t?” Kankuro’s voice sounded again. “Blame me, I mean?”

“No. It’s… well I’m not going to say it’s normal. A shinobi shouldn’t grow fond of their opponent — that’s just against the rules. But… but it does happen. Ugh. Those Konoha guys; they’re so damned nice. It’s just unfair!”

“Wait. So you like them too?”

This time it was Temari’s turn to sound embarrassed. “I don’t like them. I just respect them. Kind of.”

“Pffff, you totally do, don’t you sis? My god, you’re even blushing!”

“Don’t make things up, you idiot! And don’t go presuming things about what I think. I just, ugh…  I don’t… I don’t have to like someone to not want to kill them.”

Kakashi and Río exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Kill us?

There was another drawn out silence.

“Yeah…” Kankuro said at last. “We’re way better off with Konoha as our ally, not our en–”

“Kankuro, you idiot! You know you’re not supposed to speak so plainly about it. This is classified.”

“I know, I know. But relax, Temari. We’re alone.”

“Did you check?”

A telling silence followed.

“Kankuro, you, you…! You didn’t check?”

“Hey, neither did you!”

“It was your turn today! You’re such a sloppy, stupid, moron! Fine. I’ll do it then, since following obligatory protocol seems to bother you so much.”

There was the sound of someone brusquely standing up and picking up a heavy object, the fan. Kakashi reached toward his hitai ate in order to expose his sharingan. For a few poignant minutes, they listened with baited breath to the sounds of Temari checking the few available hiding spots – though thankfully not seeing them.

“What are you doing?” a new, raspy voice interrupted.

“G-Gaara!” Temari exclaimed, her voice high-pitched. “I didn’t think you’d come back so soon.”

Gaara didn’t answer. “Why were you checking the room?” he questioned instead. “Is someone hiding here?”

“Nah!” Kankuro cut in. “It’s just sis being paranoid, what with the invasion coming up.”

Invasion? Kakashi and Río once again exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Kankuro!” Temari hissed. “Keep your mouth shut!”

“Relax, Temari. If anyone was here, Gaara could just take care of–”

“I will check,” Gaara cut in. He sounded like he’d very much love to have an excuse to kill somebody right then.

“A-alright. We’ll leave you to it!” Temari said, hastily dragging Kankuro out of the room. One second later, they were gone.

Now, Río and Kakashi were alone with their target.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whilst all of this was happening, Sakura and Itachi had completed their wall-painting job (with great difficulties on Sakura’s part) and subsequently acquired a ball of chakra threads. Then they’d gone back to Sakura’s house to try it out, but it was at that point when she had seen her finished kerchief for Sasuke laying quietly upon her night table. She’d subsequently remembered that today was his birthday! and Sakura may not be so obsessed with him anymore, but she’d put in a lot of work into his present and she wasn’t about to let that go to waste. Especially as it really would be a good way to apologize for botching the chunin exams for him…

And so, she had very quickly explained to Itachi her thought process, who had been just as horrified and shocked at having forgotten Sasuke’s birthday. Soon enough, they had taken off toward Sasuke’s flat (which Sakura knew the whereabouts of thanks to the Academy fangirls’ stalker network) at top speed, chakra threads forgotten. Once arrived, Itachi had promised to wait for her in the street (concealed under a strong genjutsu) while Sakura went upstairs to Sasuke’s flat in order to give him her present. It was already dark out, so she figured he must be home.

First, Sakura conned one of the neighbors into opening the door for her, waving cheerily at Itachi as she went, mouthing: ‘wish me luck’. Itachi’s slight smile as she disappeared through the door was the last thing she saw… and the last smile she’d see on his face for a long time.

 

 

After successfully infiltrating the communal area, Sakura now had to find out exactly which flat was Sasuke’s. Thanks to her amazing superior intellect, she managed to pinpoint his current lodgings thanks to the mailboxes. Ha. She was awesome. However, now it occurred to her that there was really no going back. What if Sasuke didn’t like her present? What if he thought she was a creepy stalker? What if he wasn’t home?

 

Starting to feel rather nervous, Sakura ascended the communal staircase until she made it to 4 – B.

Hesitantly, she went to knock on the door, but found it ajar.

That wasn’t like Sasuke. He’d never be this careless. Maybe he’d left to chat with a neighbor?

“Sasuke?” Sakura called out worriedly. Nothing. There went her neighbor theory. Sakura was greeted only by silence, even as she repeated her address.

Hesitantly, she pushed the door open.

“Sasuke?”

It was completely dark inside. As much as she tried to peer into the rooms ahead, she could see nothing. And then – something moved.

Involuntarily, Sakura took a startled step back.

“Sasuke?”

Yet again, that stillness. She couldn’t explain why, but suddenly the hairs on her arms, on her back, everywhere, were standing on end and her entire skin prickled, her nerves on fire. Not daring to move even her eyes, which were trained blankly ahead, paralyzed by the darkness, Sakura flared her chakra as strongly as she could in the SOS signal.

 

The wait was one of the most excruciating of her life, though only seconds later, Itachi was by her side.

At first, his face acquired a vexed quality when he saw that she was alright. But then he took in the opened flat door, the dark apartment beyond, Sakura’s petrified features… and he went chalk white.

“Wait here,” he said. His voice had never sounded scarier.

And then he went in.

 

Notes:

So a lot of shit went down this chapter, but more shit will go down on the next one, trust me.
Your thoughts are greatly cherished ;)

PS. Drew this forever ago, back in March. This scene was actually one of the first I ever came up with (along with the story drawing) so I thought I just had to upload this even if it didn’t come out that well… so here you go

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 

Chapter 14: Husk

Summary:

The unlucky chapter.

Notes:

:) :) :)
Shit will hit the fan today. PS. The previous chapter has been slightly modified in some parts, and might still be modified in a few more... I'm unsure.

23rd July, Uchiha Sasuke’s apartment, 20:45

 

The darkness seemed to conceal the most horrific of nightmares. Itachi had already disappeared into it and Sakura remained rooted to the spot, staring fearfully into the depths of Sasuke’s apartment. Going inside… it felt like the most daunting thing she’d ever done. Even so, what if she was needed? What if something was horribly wrong and Sasuke depended on her?

In the end, Sakura moved. Perhaps, if Itachi hadn’t been there already, she’d have been too terrified to go in. Perhaps she’d have made the choice anyway. But none of that mattered as she crossed the threshold.

Sakura’s world narrowed down to what little chakra she could perceive, her hands acting as eyes as she tried to navigate the darkness. For tortuous minutes, she was left to fend on her own in the unknown as she tried to locate a light switch. She bumped into things and thought it was an enemy or that she’d be attacked based on the noise she was making. Constantly, Sakura tried to recall where that sound she’d heard before had come from, but she couldn’t, and it scared her. It scared her so much.

And then her hands found the light switch.

 

A room came into sudden focus – an empty room. It was a small living room by the looks of it, and it was absolutely ransacked. That’s when Sakura heard a noise further into the apartment, the noise of a body hitting the floor.

Running on instinct, she took off toward it, stealth be damned, her heart drumming wildly in her rib cage. Just as Sakura reached the door, a thought struck her. What if inside the next room, there was a murderer? What if that noise earlier had been Itachi’s lifeless body as it hit the floor? She could still turn back. She could still turn back.

She didn’t. Her hand, Sakura noticed distantly, was shaking as she reached for the door handle. She pushed it open with a loud, unending creak, a creak that would reveal her presence to the murderer.

 

Finally the door opened but she couldn’t see. She held her breath and braced herself for an attack as her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness… but nothing came. Then it hit her: the tangy, coppery smell of blood. Fresh blood. And when she was finally able to see what lay beyond her, Sakura’s blood froze in her veins.

It was dark. The corners of the room remained unfathomable, but before her, the light of the hallway illuminated two figures. One kneeled over the other, who lay prone on the floor in a fetal position, with a shirt caked in red. The first was Itachi, the sound from earlier must’ve been that of his knees hitting the floor – though Sakura barely registered him as she approached the second… Sasuke.

He was hurt – so, so hurt it made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She couldn’t exactly see the injury, just the blood. There wasn’t even that much blood, but something – something was wrong with his face, though she couldn’t see what, curled into himself as he was. But he was alive, thought Sakura. He was alive, and that was what mattered.

“He needs first aid,” she heard herself say.

There was no answer.

She turned toward Itachi and found that he had frozen, his skin pasty white and his hands shaking. Something was very, very wrong with him, but there was no time. In her mind, Sakura had already made a list of priorities and Sasuke was her first.

He needed immediate medical attention, but for that, Sakura first had to asses the damage done to him. She needed to know whether they could carry him or not.

In that moment, as she strode toward the curled-up figure, her sandals squelching over the floor, Sakura remembered the hell-viewing technique Kakashi had once trapped her in. It was good that he had, because otherwise Sakura might’ve already passed out.

As it was, now only half her mind was freaking out about Sasuke – the other half was too busy freaking out about herself, or rather, her continued existence. Sakura felt unsafe as she approached him, she felt like someone was about to pounce on her, she could barely think straight out of fear and shock and horror. She didn’t know whether whoever had hurt Sasuke was still lurking somewhere, she wasn’t even sure whether Itachi would be able to fight if that was the case – he looked like he’d shut down completely – but she knew that she had to keep going. She was already useless as a default, she couldn’t fail now, not now. So she slowly lowered herself to her knees next to Sasuke.

And then–

A hand clamped over her shoulder, nails boring into flesh. Sakura startled violently.

The aggressor! her brain screamed. But when she looked, it was Itachi’s hand. His nails dug painfully into her clavicle and she felt so much strain on it that she feard he’d break the bone.

“You – you’re hurting me,” Sakura chocked out. “Stop it.”

The hand didn’t move.

“He needs help,” Sakura tried again. “Let me go, he needs help.” The iron grip softened marginally and Sakura knew he’d heard her. Somewhere in there, Itachi had heard her. “He’s not dead,” she insisted. “Sasuke’s not dead. He’s not dead, he’s not dead…”

She continued murmuring her mantra, partly in fear of Itachi, partly to break the terrifying silence, partly because her nerves were frayed. The hand became slack, lifting the pressure over her clavicle and Sakura used the chance to crawl closer to her teammate. With trembling hands, she slowly removed Sasuke’s own hands from his face, which they were clutching even in unconsciousness.

Next to her, Itachi took in a sharp breath, but Sakura barely heard it over the frantic pounding of her own heart. She felt bile rise into her mouth and she almost puked over Sasuke, horror clogging her throat as she gazed upon her teammate.

His eyes were gone.

 

 

23rd July, Hokage tower, 22:15 (a little over an hour later)

This time, all faces were extremely grim as the members of the War Council gathered around their wooden meeting table. Hiruzen’s countenance appeared made of stone as he listened to the accusations being thrown around. The bearer of the awful news had been Danzo, as per their agreement, and now Hiruzen watched as the other man weathered the shouts and criticism with a stoic expression on his face. He could’ve sworn that Danzo hadn’t moved a muscle in over five minutes.

“What do you mean his eyes have been stolen?!”

“Such incompetence!”

“Are you trying to tell me that we’ve lost the sharingan?!”

“They haven’t caught the perpetrator? Are you serious?”

“This is inadmissible!”

It was then that Danzo’s cane banged against the floor, bringing the room to immediate silence.

Calm and cold, the elder turned toward Hiruzen.

“If I may interrupt,” he said slowly, “I propose we move on to matters of actual relevance rather than empty accusations. What’s done is done; now the ball is in our court and we must respond.” His gaze bored into Hiruzen. “This is why I am hereby submitting a formal complaint in regards to lieutenant commander Itona Takenaka, who has been deemed unable to properly fulfill the requirements of his position, more so in our current and dire circumstances. As you can see, the paperwork checks out.” This said, Danzo produced a humongous stack of papers, which he then wordlessly pushed toward the hokage’s end of the table. “You may read it if you wish, but as I said, it’s all in order. And that means: we must pick a new lieutenant commander.”

The room broke out into whispers – no doubt all present had realized what this move was: a check mate of the highest order.

Or at least, that’s what they thought.

What they didn’t know, however, was that Hiruzen had already been aware of Danzo’s intentions to get Takenaka fired, or that Danzo knew that he knew… or the fact that they’d already discussed the matter and had agreed upon this very course of action. What they didn’t know was that this very meeting was but an empty formality, a puppet show where their very action would be directed by a string.

And so, as per his script, Hiruzen looked through Danzo’s complaint and pretended to be surprised by the legal loophole which had backed Takenaka into a corner. He then gave a speech about what a lieutenant commander should be like, stating that, such as the situation was, it was imperative that their commander be competent and able and a number of other redundant things. His speech could be interpreted either as in support of Danzo’s actions or against them, which was exactly his intention.

 

Transparency was not something he could currently afford himself – not when the situation was so complex, and not until Takenaka had left the room, at the very least – because after the night’s events, Hiruzen had been forced to admit that Danzo’s claim in regards to Takenaka possibly being a spy didn’t sound that far-fetched at all anymore. How else would Sasuke’s aggressor have known where to find him after the increased security? How else would he have known about the guard’s shift changes? Something didn’t check out, and that something was by all accounts Takenaka. However, the prospect of choosing a new lieutenant commander now of all times was still very daunting – more so with the very real possibility that it would end up being a Danzo supporter. And yet, there was one thing which neither Hiruzen nor Danzo had factored into the equation – or rather, one someone – namely, Aburame Shiki.

Unlike everyone else involved in the “Firing Takenaka Operation”, Aburame Shiki was a simple man with no delusions of grandeur nor an interest in power or politics. And yet, the normally passive ninja had, for reasons unknown, thrown himself into the world of legal loopholes with a vigor that had completely blindsided everyone. It had been him that had found the key to firing Takenaka, though it had become apparent that his motivations were not of an ambitious nature, just as it had become apparent that Shiki would not let himself be manipulated by anyone, neither Danzo nor Hiruzen nor their political agendas.

Truthfully, Hiruzen privately thought that this was the only silver lining of a bad situation, because Shiki may not be on his side, but neither was he on Danzo’s. The man was a wildcard, a seasoned ANBU, and, though he had his quirks, he had good judgment. That was already a step up from some of Danzo’s other candidates.

Not to mention, now wasn’t the time to be picky. Hiruzen was very aware that, after tonight’s theft of the sharingan, chances were he’d lose all of his political backing to Danzo – he was between a rock and a hard place. It wasn’t even about the Sasuke situation anymore, he just couldn’t afford to have a lieutenant commander that favored Danzo. It was a huge problem.

As such, he had considered appointing Kakashi for the position. Kakashi was his man, Kakashi he trusted implicitly. Unfortunately, Danzo would never agree to back Kakashi for the position, which was made easier by the fact that he still hadn’t returned from the mission he’d been sent on – an neither had the ROOT commander – so Hiruzen couldn’t pick him as a replacement, not unless the man appeared, but the meeting couldn’t be postponed. He truly was between a rock and a hard place… and as such, Hiruzen found that Aburame Shiki was the next best choice. He at least could count on the man’s integrity and disinterest in power, if nothing else.

 

23rd July, Uchiha Sasuke’s apartment, 20:55 (about half an hour earlier)

 

Sakura stood in Sasuke’s now empty apartment and stared at the wall.

Besides for the loss of his eyes, he’d had wounds which had bled sluggishly, and, though none were life-threatening, one of them had required first aid. Itachi at least had seemed to be more present upon realizing this, but his hands had shaken so badly that he’d been completely unable to find and retrieve the scroll containing bandages.

Since they couldn’t wait, Sakura had been forced to use her painstakingly sewn kerchief as a makeshift bandage. A few moments later, Itachi had wordlessly taken off with Sasuke in his arms – presumably to the hospital.

And now here Sakura was, alone in the empty, dark apartment. Alone, frightened to death and…

There was a noise.

Her eyes widened.

 

She was not alone.

 

 

23rd July, Hokage tower, 22:40

 

Minutes passed by in which Hiruzen listened with half an ear to the proceedings, the other half of his brain plagued with uneasy musings. Takenaka’s termination was talked about, and, after a continuous back and forth of legal jargon-plagued questions which Danzo breezed through with frightening ease, the moment of truth came: Takenaka was relieved of his post as lieutenant commander and told to vacate the room… just like that. Hiruzen pretended to feel bad for the man, even though he inwardly wished he could stab the traitor with a kunai. Meanwhile, Danzo appeared indifferent as he read out a list of names containing the possible candidates who might relieve Takenaka of his post. Then came the election.

 

Needless to say, it was a hoax – Hiruzen and Danzo had already negotiated the outcome beforehand. Aburame Shiki, they’d decided, offered an acceptable consensus between them, a middle point so to speak, not to mention that agreeing upon a candidate beforehand would avoid disparity within the council, which was the last thing they needed in emergency situations. Picking him had perhaps been the fastest Hiruzen and Danzo had managed to agree with one another ever (though they’d been on a time crunch).

 

And so, the tedious election process took place, by the end of which, after much caredul manipulation, Aburame Shiki was chosen as the new lieutenant commander. Henceforth, Hiruzen ordered one of his ANBU to go fetch the man, like all of this hadn’t already been agreed upon, and subsequently watched as once more the room descended into chaotic whispers.

Across from him, Danzo was the only other person who looked collected. Hiruzen knew from experience that the calmer Danzo looked, the less at ease he actually was. As surprising as that may sound, at his core, Danzo was a naturally expressive person, and though he had curved that expressiveness over the years, sometimes it came back when he felt secure. In other words, as much as it annoyed Hiruzen when the elder made jabs at him or threw around those lovely prissy remarks of his, that was usually a good sign.

When he was quiet, on the other hand… then one had to worry. And if Danzo ever acted mild-mannered, well… Hiruzen had only experienced that once in all of his years, and, suffice it to say, a mild-mannered Danzo was akin to a death omen.

Hiruzen studied him from across the table. He currently wasn’t at the mild-mannered stage, thank god, but earlier he had showcased an unfailing politeness which almost bordered on pleasant as he dished out legal jargon terms left and right in a way that had more than one person staring perplexed. In Hiruzen’s humble opinion, Danzo had either found a secret passion for being a lawyer, or he was very, very stressed.

He wondered… was Danzo second-guessing himself right then? As though hearing his thoughts, Danzo’s eye flickered toward him across the table. They held each other’s gaze for a few minutes, Danzo in his ominous ‘calm mode’, Hiruzen stoic as a stone. Then they simultaneously looked away, toward the ardently whispering members of the War Coucil.

 

Most of them, predictably, seemed to have no clue about who Aburame Shiki even was.

Also predictably, most of them had turned to the Aburame clan head, Shigeru Aburame, and had subtly started questioning him about ‘this Shiki fellow’. They had all voted for him (the vote was open, so they’d just followed their factions’ lead) but none knew who he was.

 

 

23rd July, Uchiha Sasuke's apartment, 21:03

Upon hearing the sudden noise, Sakura momentarily froze. She looked around herself, around the darkened room, trying to spot any exits. She saw only one: the door. But that was where the sound had come from… she felt reluctant to go anywhere near it.

But what if it’s just some random noise? she thought. Her nerve-addled brain could’ve imagined it – that happened sometimes – or it could’ve been made by one of the neighbors downstairs…

Nevertheless, Sakura remained rooted to the spot, her gaze paralyzed upon the door. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was straining her senses in search for another person’s chakra. Nothing. There was nothing there. She couldn’t feel any other chakra signatures around her at all, nowhere even close. And yet…

It was then that she heard it again. That noise.

She froze as her stomach sunk a mile a minute. Now she knew for sure: she hadn’t imagined it; she wasn’t alone. Once again she heard it; the sound of a creaking floorboard… then again, and again.

Creak.

Creak.

The footsteps were coming closer.

It suddenly dawned on her that this was real. This wasn’t a training exercise or even a mission with her team; she was all alone – and she was in danger. She had to move or she would die. Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke, Itachi… none of them were there. She had to move.

Frantically, Sakura cast another desperate glance around the room, and this time she miraculously spotted one more exit: a window. It was covered by a curtain that concealed it almost too neatly, and Sakura was sure in that moment that Sasuke’s aggressor had drawn it on purpose. She hurried toward the window and, trying to be as noiseless as possible, looked it over for a latch to open it.

She fumbled around in the dark as the footsteps drew closer and closer. The latch wouldn’t budge, or maybe it was the fault of her trembling fingers, but the window just wouldn’t open. She started to yank on it aggressively, heedless of the noise she was making, her heartbeat frantic in her rib cage.

The footsteps stopped and Sakura imagined the person outside cocking their head to the side. Then they resumed their unhurried trek down the hallway, right toward her. She yanked again and again, the windowpane rattled. It was then that she saw it – a seal, right beneath the latch. She knew immediately what it was – a lock. She was trapped and with no escape. Sakura ran towards the door and shoved a chair underneath the handle. Then she ran back and tried to force the window. It was impossible. The footsteps stopped – the person had made it to the door. Sakura hyperventilated so loudly, she was sure they must hear it. The door handle clicked.

Up and down, up and down.

They’d noticed the chair, which was moving precariously. It would give away soon. In her desperation, she thoughtlessly channeled chakra to her leg and kicked the glass. The window shattered partially; shards glowed in the night as they flew across the street. However, the crack wansn’t big enough for Sakura to fit through.

The chair was rattling so much, it was seconds away from giving out. In full blown panic, Sakura grabbed the window and yanked on the glass, cracking it again and again with bleeding hands.

The chair fell to the side. Finally, she could fit through the window. The door’s hinges creaked as it opened. Sakura balanced precariously upon the window contorting her body around the glass. Her position forced her to look back and then she saw: upon the door swell, there now stood a man. He was tall and pale, with long black hair and cat-like eyes, and he was smiling at her.

He pounced.

She fled.

Sasuke's apartment was high up, enough so that if the situation hadn't been what it was, Sakura might've gotten dizzy. Her feet clung to its outer walls as she sprinted up, up, up, toward the rooftop, far away from that horrible room, from Sasuke's blood on the floor, from the man chasing her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement behind her. She ran harder.

She made it to the top of the building in record time but it was't enough, the prickling at the back of her neck told her he was right behind her. He was onto her. But there was no time to think, it was fight or flight and she wasn't dumb enough to attempt the former. Sakura took off across the rooftop, the sound of footsteps on tiles following in her wake. He was right behind her... was he toying with her? Get away! something primal in her screamed, but she'd made it to the end of the roof. Get away!  her instincts had gone haywire; she jumped.

It was lucky that she landed with only scraped knees on the next roof. The chase continued, she continued running. She jumped off another building again. In the air it was as if time slowed, her instincts screamed at her again, louder than ever and she went into a roll. Half a second later, something that gleamed in the moonlight sizzled past her.

A katana. She registered pain in her forearm then, the forearm that had been covering the back of her head. It had slized her. It would have killed her. Almost had. Might still.

The thought barely registered, only the roar of the blood in her vains, the footsteps behind her, the wardrums of her heart that pounded still, running overtime to keep her alive. Time seemed to go faster again and in the next second her jump was finished, she was no longer airborne, she was crash-landing on yet another rooftop. Her sandals squelched noisily over it, ripping tiles off the poor civvie's rooftop as she skidded downward, to the end of the roof. A tile sprung up, slashing over the tendon of her ankle. The pain barely registered but she lost her balance, and then she was free-falling into the street.

By the skin of her teeth, Sakura managed to latch onto a light calble with her feet before she could crash into the ground, but her momentum was too great and she skiddeed along the cable like a wild corkscrew,  sparks flying, static buzzing, chakra working frantically to stay balanced, even as she advanced in increasingly tighter spirals. Finally her control snapped and she careened across the street. It would've been a bad fall, but Tetsuya had taught her how to handle those. She managed to land on her feet. Panting. Terrified. Planning her next action... but before she could do anything, he was there. He'd caught up. 

 

Sakura didn’t know him, she’d never seen his face before, but something in the back of her mind recognized him.

“Hello there, little girl,” he said lowly. “How lovely to meet you again.”

Sakura stared at him in mute horror. Something about that face, about the gauntness, the paleness of it was just… unnatural. Wrong.

“Who… who are you?” she stuttered out.

“Hm? Oh, no one too interesting, I assure you,” he said with a smile. “Just Orochimaru will do.”

Sakura blanched, taking a step back. “Th-the sannin?”

“Hm, that’s by far one of my less interesting accolades.”

Ice spread through her veins.

“G-go away.”

Orochumaru only smiled. “Tut, tut. That’s not polite at all, little girl. Didn’t your parents teach you manners?”

“Give Sasuke’s eyes back!” she screeched.

“Hmm? Perhaps. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.” He waited a beat and she wondered whether he could see the hairs of her arms as they stood on end. “No? Well more’s the pity. I do so enjoy your coloring.”

“Leave me alone, y-you creep.”

“I can do that,” Orochimaru acknowledged. “But that’s so boring. A boring result for boring people. And you’re not boring at all, are you, little girl?” He advanced towards her, and suddenly his chakra expanded. Sakura backpedaled until she was on the edge of the rooftop. It was huge and ominous, malignant and wicked. She wished that she couldn’t sense it, trying to concentrate on finding other, different chakra signatures instead; flaring her own continuously in a frantic call for help.

“Oh, yes, that’s it,” Orochimaru said, clapping. “My, my. Not boring indeed. Wherever did you learn how to sense chakra, little girl? And just who, pray tell, taught you ANBU standard?” Sakura kept her mouth firmly shut, but Orochimaru didn’t seem to mind. “Sensei, perhaps? Aww, poor kitten, don't look at me like that. It's not my fault he isn't here to protect you, now is it?"

Sakura ignored him and focused on flaring her chakra the best she could, amplifying the signal even more. She'd never managed to send it this strongly. If only she could flag someone down… if only…

"What amazing control you have,” Orochimaru continued, his words poisoned honey. “Pity, that. One does have to wonder… how is it that an inconsequential little civilian like you has learned all of these advanced skills, hmm?”

Sakura kept her mouth shut.

“Alas, it is a mystery that will remain unsolved,” Orochimaru concluded. “Unless… you’d like to enlighten me before I gut you?”

She recoiled in horror. “Wh- what kind of a question is that?!”

“No need to snap. It was just a question.”

"Leave me alone! ANBU will arrive any second now!” Sakura yelled. And yet, her triumph was short-lived.

“Is that so? And prey tell, little girl, which ANBU are you talking about, exactly? No one is here.”

“You don’t know that,” she snapped. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” pondered Orochimaru. “Perhaps. Or perhaps not.” He gestured beyond the rooftop with a movement of his wrist and Sakura hesitantly turned to look. She could sense that he didn’t want her dead yet. “What do you see?”

She gulped. “A… a street?”

Orochimaru chuckled. “I should rephrase… what do you not see?”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “There… there’s no one there. It’s empty.”

She paused with horror to take it in. It shouldn’t be empty. It should be bustling with life – merchants, party-goers, couples, shinobi… and yet, there was no one. No one to turn to. She was alone.

“Quite so. No one will come for you, little girl. There’s only you… and me.” He smiled as he retrieved a kunai."And this kunai.”

Why wasn’t anyone there? Why was the village empty? There were supposed to be people! Hundreds of people! Were they all dead?! Where were they? Sakura wished she could curl into a ball until she woke up from this nightmare.

“Where is everyone?!”

“Evidently not here, little girl.”

“What did you do to them? Tell me!”

“Maybe I killed them.” He giggled. “Or maybe not.” He turned away suddenly, full on facing Sakura. His lips curled into a smile. “Well? Any last words you wish me to pass on?”

“Leave me alone!” she shouted. “I didn’t do anything to you! Go away!”

“Didn’t do anything?” Orochimaru repeated, his eyes gleaming.

“It’s true! I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time! I won’t tell anyone I saw you! Please! Don’t hurt me!”

“You lie, little girl. You lie. You have sabotaged me, you have killed my beloved Manda, I will shred you to bits!” And then he began to slowly walk toward her, his eyes an omen of death.

As she crouched there, on that cold pavement, staring up at the pale, androginous-looking man, Sakura said her goodbyes.

Her knees were threatening to give out on her, her throat clogged. His killing intent enveloped her like a blanket that slowly asphyxiates. She was panting like a pig at the slaughterhouse, nails digging painfully into her skin as he unsheathed his sword. Her fingers shook. These were her last moments. Sakura's yaw clenched and she scrunched her eyes shut. Yes. But if she was to die, she'd do so on her own terms. These were her last moments and she'd damn well stare her murderer down with the last of her time, drilling her gaze into his memory forevermore. She might be a weakling, but she wouldn't die a coward.

Sakura Haruno opened her eyes and stared into the face of death.

 

 

Only… he stopped. His eyes wide, Orochimaru had frozen in his tracks, staring right back at Sakura. It was only seconds later that she realized – he was staring at something behind her. And then she heard a swooshing noise and turned. What seemed like thousands upon thousands of crows descended upon them at once. Looking around she saw them everywhere, like a black, murderous whirlwind, like the wrath of the gods upon them they thundered down from the skies, screeching in ungodly tones as they spun and spun around Orochimaru and Sakura, around Sakura and Orochimaru. Caw, caw, caw, they went, talons spread, beaks clacking, wings beating. Within the typhoon, one lone crow broke apart from the rest; black as the night and with a scar on its beak. Shi-chan…

Sakura felt his reassuring weight as he dropped upon her shoulder.

Standing in front of her frozen was Orochimaru. His cat-like eyes were fixed upon Shi-chan, his faze curiously blank; he’d gone still as a stone.

“Go away, viper. She’s one of ours.”

Shi-chan spoke in a gravelly voice, and suddenly Orochimaru jolted, his eyes widening even more before he looked away hastily. Sakura had no time to chance a glance at Shi-chan to find out why, for without prompt the crow bit her earlobe. The rest of his kin jolted into action as though he’d given a command, and Sakura knew instinctively that he had commanded her too, to move, to run while she could. And so she did.

Heedless of height or how dangerous a jump might seem, she bolted out of there. However, it was like a nightmare that never ended. As much as she ran, the darkness was always before her. The streets were just as empty, just as dead. There were no lights, no people, no life in sight. Driven by desperation, Sakura pushed her body to its limits, but no matter the distance she put behind her, nothing changed. She felt like she wasn’t running at all. And that’s when it came to her. A nightmare… was this a genjutsu? She almost discarded the idea immediately; she had a lot of experience breaking Kakashi’s genjutsu and they felt different. There were always subtle differences that would give it away, but this one, this was just so drastic, so huge. This nightmare, this was all encompassing. It didn’t just affect just one sense the way other genjutsu she’d been under did. This was real.

But the nightmare wasn’t stopping and Sakura thought ‘screw it’ and used the strongest kai she’d ever had. And then, before her very eyes, there was a flicker within the darkness, like some sort of glitch… and she knew right then: she’d been right. This was a genjutsu.

But how could it be that just one kai hadn’t been enough? Sakura didn’t have time to think about the theoretic implications of this, she simply went with the brute force method and cast one kai after another, sending her chakra network into a tizzy. She felt disoriented from the constant fluctuations within her system and senses, but she didn’t give up. She wasn’t a genjutsu type for nothing, damnit!

‘ KAIIIII!!! ’

And then, finally, finally, the illusion broke and Sakura was free.

The darkness broke into noise and life, streets erupting with chatter and lights everywhere, people laughing, people eating, and the faces of the hokage proudly looking on. Sakura smiled so hard it hurt, resisting the urge to scream into the sky. She had done it. She was free! But her happiness was short-lived. For behind her, she noticed an entire collective of snakes giving chase. 

Something in her clicked, the aftertaste of death, the phantom memory of a gullet as seen from the inside, of mustard yellow eyes which spelled murder, of scales and she completely lost it. She had to get away from them. They must be Orochimaru’s.

Sakura knew she wasn’t supposed to use the shunshin yet. No one used it in combat situations and for good reason. The danger of accidentally running into an obstacle or a projectile at mortal speeds was too great, but right then, Sakura didn’t see another way out. 

Ram. Oax. Boar. Tiger.

Go!!

Without looking back again, she flew over the rooftops, so fast she couldn’t even see where she was going. It was only thanks to a combination of all her training, immense luck and her photographic memory that Sakura kept from running into a building. Going faster and faster with every push of her feet, legs and chakra, she vaulted over streets and houses, practically flying over the rooftops as crows going in the opposite direction sizzled past her like black blurs. 

Running on pure instinct, Sakura’s feet took her through front-porches and across lawns until she’d made it to the civilian district… until she was at Yuna’s.

 

“We’re closed for tod – girlie?”

If the cat-lady was put off by Sakura’s sudden appearance (or smell), she didn’t ask. If she was confused over the dozens of crows that had randomly alighted just outside of the shop (or the one perched upon Sakura’s head) she didn’t ask either. Sakura was thinking woozily that Yuna had a great poker face indeed when the old woman grabbed her hands and squeezed them reassuringly, then let go and disappeared into an adjacent room. It was then that Sakura realized that her hands were shaking uncontrollably, almost as though she’d overexerted herself. It was a strange sensation, watching them shake, unable to stop it. A few moments later, Yuna returned with two warm mugs of tea. Somehow, the sight of them broke something in her, and Sakura threw her arms over the old woman’s torso and started sobbing.

“There, there, girl. C’mere. We’ll get you cleaned up good, then you’ll feel loads better. I’ll fix your hands, too… Shhh… yes, now breathe with me…”

The crows continued their silent vigil unhindered.

24th July, Hatake Kakashi's flat, 23:40

 

When Kakashi made it to his flat that day, he was in oddly high spirits. The Root agent hadn’t tried to murder him, had even been likeable (although this in itself was somewhat suspicious to him) and together they had unearthed an extremely crucial plot that might play a big role in preventing the invasion: Suna was participating alongside Oto – that was why they’d brought their jinchuriki without notifying Konoha. After chaning back into his normal uniform and discarding his wig and contacts, he’d been about to leave again to deliver the urgent report when he spotted the missive awaiting him on top of his kitchen counter. This in itself was not such a rare occurrence, but the moment he read it, his blood froze. The clearance seal for it was the highest in existance, only Kakashi’s blood, combined with his fuinjutsu knowledge could open it. Now very alarmed, he tore through the protections until the note became visible.

Kakashi,

I am sorry you must hear this news like this, but I was not sure when you would return from your mission, and I had assumed promptness would be important to you. Simply put, there is no easy way to say this: this evening, someone assaulted Uchiha Sasuke in his flat. Besides for the loss of his eyes, he is physically fine, though sedated. I am deeply sorry this has happened, Kakashi. It appears that the attacker had no problem in getting past our ANBU guard. The council believes it was Orochimaru – Jiraiya claims to have seen him.

Currently, the War Council is in session to discuss this, but please come to my office tomorrow morning at the latest. We must discuss this. In the meantime, I imagine you will want to be there for him. This missive includes an official permission to let you into his room. Please make sure nothing else happens to him. You also have my blessing, if this would please you, to join the ANBU detail I have stationed around the room. Security has of course been upped, but still. You understand my concerns? Also, please burn this note as soon as you have read it.

Sarutobi Hiruzen

Kakashi had a panic attack.

24th July, the Foundation, 00:30

 

Danzo Shimura was standing in a conference room, his face livid. Before him was Rio, giving her report .

“I’m truly sorry, Danzo-sama. Hatake and I were–”

Danzo did not respond.

“We have managed to ascertain via the sharingan that the Ichibi truly is here. More, we eavesdropped upon a…”

Finally, Danzo spoke. “Yes?”

“…a conversation between the teenage siblings of the jinchuriki. They seemed to be aware of the invasion plot.”

Danzo jolted. “What?!”

“ Yes .”

“And why didn’t you mention this sooner?!”

“You kept interrupting me and asking me where I was while Sasuke-san’s sharingan was stolen.”

Danzo clenched his cane. “You mean to tell me that sand is in on this?”

“That seems to be the case… however, both siblings, Kankuro and Temari, expressed a certain distaste for the plot.”

Danzo stopped his frantic tapping. “What?”

“Yes. They appeared to have grown somewhat attached to some of the candidates they had been tested with during the second stage.”

“What?”

“Yes, apparently the fruits of Hatake-san’s very teamwork oriented test, meant to build bonds and strengthen unity–”

“He told you that?”

“…yes.”

“Then spare me the details. I know the story.”

“Well, as I was saying, the two siblings  didn’t seem entirely onboard with it, at least not very open to the idea of killing those they’d already befriended.”

“You know this how?”

“Hatake-san thought so.”

“And he knows this how?!”

“He supervised the exam and was able to see all of the candidates interact.”

“God damn!” Danzo exclaimed, making Rio jolt. “Did it have to be Hatake? Why is it always him?!”

“Danzo-sama, do you need a breather? I could bring you some lemonade, not the poisoned one, mind–”

“I do not need lemonade!” 

“Right, sorry. My mistake,” Río said. “Anyway,”  she tried to change the topic. “I have heard of the sharingan theft,” Rio ventured carefully. “I see why that would be concerning, more because of the asset Orochimaru has gained, but Danzo-sama, the sharingan is still in our possession. Hatake-san is very apt, and do you not also have–”

“This is not what concerns me.”

Rio blinked. “Huh?”

“Orochimaru will likely need time to properly transplant the sharingan. You and I know how hard that is. He has a considerable chance of managing it, but not quickly enough for the invasion.”

“Then what’s the hang up?”

“The hang up,” said Danzo ominously, “will be dealt with in due time.”

"Umm... do you want me to do anything about it? What is the problem anyway?"

Danzo shook his head slowly. "The problem is Uchiha Itachi."

“Sasuke’s… brother,” said Rio, her expression suddenly stony. "That psychopath. The one who carried out the massacre."

“What,” Danzo continued, “do you know about Itachi, Rio?”

She thought for a moment. "He is in my black list."

"Precisely. This is why I will have to ask you to ignore your blacklist for a while.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“He is currently in Konoha.”

“What?”

“He has petitioned to be on guard duty.”

“He what? And you’ll let him?”

“Yes,” Danzo snapped. “And more – I want you to play nice if – when – you see him. I don’t care what your feelings on the matter are. Leave him be.”

Rio’s eyebrow ticked. “How can I leave him be after what he did?”

“Rio. This is an order. You are not to engage. You will make sure nobody finds out who he is. Is this clear?”

She leveled him with an inscrutable look. “Perhaps you should appoint Kakashi to guard duty as well. He will want to be there for his student.”

The councilman’s attention sharpened at the seeming non sequitur.

“That may be so,” Danzo acknowledged after a moment. “But why would I even want to assign that man to the guard duty roster?” 

Río met his gaze, her head cocked. “And why not? He's going to make trouble if you don't.” 

Danzo seemed to think about it for a while. In his mind, he understood the implicit deal. “Appoint Kakashi and I’ll leave Itachi alone.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve gone on a mission with Hatake recently,” he observed.

Río paused, raising a brow as if to say ‘your point being...?’

Danzo frowned and regarded her disapprovingly.

“Done. Now get out of my hair. And don’t cause any trouble.”

He had a lot to think about.

 

 

24th July, Konoha General, 02:55

Jiraiya was shuffling through the dank hospital corridors at three a.m., his shoulders hunched, his brow furrowed, and with such a downtrodden gait he’d swear up and down that it wasn’t him walking like that – like a beaten, bruised old man, worn down by responsibilities and guilt and mistakes.

He thought of Kakashi. That was one of them – a source of guilt and regrets and failed responsibility he’d been carrying practically for as long as the boy lived. The man, he had to remind himself sometimes – he’s already an adult.

Just a minute ago, he’d been trying to get through to him, but Kakashi, who had been attempting to visit Sasuke (as of yet, unsuccessfully), had coldly brushed him off, not intentionally so, Jiraiya knew, but coming over as cold and detached nevertheless. Knowing the man, his focus was most likely split between getting clearance to enter Sasuke’s ward and his own ghosts and mistakes.

As an author, Jiraiya prided himself on his ability to understand other people’s characters. As the man who had known Kakashi from when he was still in diapers, who had endured Hatake Sakumo’s drunken rants about his talented baby boy, who had listened to Minato’s own bragging that his star student had made jonin at thirteen, take that, sensei!, Jiraiya was aware that he knew Kakashi better than the man would most likely ever suspect. He had been connected to him through his friendship to Kakashi’s parents, and later, through his bond to Minato, who had fit into the father role almost seamlessly after Sakumo had passed. Ten years later, Minato had followed him into death, the last in a long list of those Kakashi had lost.

And Jiraiya knew that no one – least of all Kakashi – had expected him to, but he felt guilty for not stepping up back then. He felt guilty for not being there at the very least… there enough, to tell stupid jokes that would’ve made Kakashi scoff during those dark days, but would perhaps have distracted him from his grief, even just a little. And yet, despite what the general consensus might say, Jiraiya was a coward. He could never be brave where it truly mattered – not with Kakashi, not with his own godson, and not regarding his true feelings toward a certain blonde. He could never step up.

He hadn’t even been there during the points in Kakashi’s life when he’d lost the most, when he’d needed comfort the most. Without fail, like a cruel joke, Jiraiya had always been out of the village at those times. When he had returned to Konoha months later to the news that Kakashi’s teammates, his sensei, the most important people in his life, had died, it had always been long after the fact; Kakashi’s grief had frozen over, buried deep in a place where Jiraiya could not reach. And Jiraiya had been too much of a chicken to do anything but tell stupid jokes and shower Kakashi with special editions of his stupid books.

He knew of Kakashi’s attachment to them, running to a degree that wasn’t normal. He’d never been sure whether the Icha Icha obsession was a form of escapism, or perhaps a w was sure it wasn’t for his sake that Kakashi clung to the books. He was just a passing acquaintance to the jonin, just an admired author who tended to follow him around the village and insisted of remembering Obito, who had enjoyed the series as a form of teenage rebellion (as well as to piss Kakashi off). Or perhaps he read them in reminiscence of Minato, who had proof-read the saga on occasion, permanently on a crusade to get Jiraiya to ‘write less debaucherous things, sensei, Kushina refuses to name you godfather unless you write at least one morally sound book’. In any case, Jiraiya was sure it wasn’t for his sake that Kakashi clung to the books. He was just a passing acquaintance to the jonin, just an admired author who tended to follow him around the village and insisted on clowning about whenever in Konoha.

 

Once again, Jiraiya felt guilty for not being there for him – except this time he was. This time, tragedy had struck, yes, but this time Jiraiya was around to comfort Kakashi. Except… he was a grown ass man now. The time for comforting words and hugs had passed. Were they even friends enough for Jiraiya to do anything but give a comforting pat on the back? What would he even say to Kakashi? ‘It wasn’t your fault?’

Pathetic.

Based on what he knew of him, Kakashi must be blaming himself for Sasuke’s condition. Knowing the jonin, it was an additional weight on his back, an additional burden which he’d carry with him for the rest of his life, yet another blemish he couldn’t let go of, yet another set of nigh terrors to keep him awake at night.

 

And so, though he couldn’t think of anything substantial to tell him, Jiraiya had sought Kakashi out in this dark hour and tried to cheer him up… by offering him a special print edition of Icha-Icha Make Out: Violence as a gift. Predictably, Kakashi hadn’t so much as glanced at the book, nor at Jiraiya’s face, mumbling something about not having time and left him there, standing on the cold hospital hallway.

And Jiraiya had realized what he had already known – Kakashi didn’t want him there right then. He couldn’t be – not after all of these years of absence.

Just as he was blaming himself in his head, he heard voices. It was odd for the late hour, but some sort of commotion must be going on. Glad to take his mind off his troubling thoughts, he rounded the next corner and examined the scene unfolding before him: a pink haired girl was yelling at the head nurse, shouting that she wanted, no, needed to see Sasuke. After a moment’s thought, Jiraiya recognized her as Kakashi’s little genin. He remembered the jonin’s offhand comment about her: that’s Sakura-chan. She has my ninken wrapped around her little finger. It might not seem like much to an average listener, but to Jiraiya, his words were like a bright neon sign, a sign saying that he cared. A sign he hadn’t seen in Kakashi for a long time. Perhaps, if Jiraiya took the girl – Sakura – to him, perhaps she’d succeed where he could not and take Kakashi’s mind off his guilt. The surrounding nurses seemed to be completely against letting her near Sasuke’s ward, and, unlike Kakashi, Sakura didn’t yet seem to have realized the importance of stealth in hospital buildings. Instead of pretending to give up and then sneaking in through a window, she was all outrage:

“I need to see him!” Sakura was yelling. “If you don’t believe I have clearance, then ask the person who brought him here! I know him, he’s my friend! He’ll vouch for me, I promise!”

Jiraiya paused and stared. The person who’d brought Sasuke to the hospital was classified. So classified, in fact, not even he had been told who it was… which in other words, made the girl’s claim very interesting indeed. Mind made up, he made his presence known.

“I’ll handle this,” he said seriously, walking up to the cluster of nurses. He could tell that they recognized him from earlier in the night, so none opposed him as he gestured for Sakura to follow him, only too glad to rid themselves of the rabid girl. Glancing back to make sure she was indeed behind him, Jiraiya quickly took a turn down a deserted hallway.

Sakura pursed her lips and crossed her arms but tagged along. They made it to an empty waiting room, brightly lit and clinical, and Jiraiya took the chance to tiredly plop into a chair. Sakura eyed him warily but followed suit, seating herself gingerly in front of him.

Jiraiya examined her a little more closely this time. Perhaps it was the white light of the room, but Sakura looked very pale, almost sickly in her rickety plastic chair. Her countenance was drawn and chalky white, her eyes hooded, her stance bone tired. He saw bandages wrapped around unsteady fingers and wondered at them. Her outfit was washed out and old-looking, as though haphazardly thrown together, and her posture was hunched, almost meek, the chair almost too large for her. It made for a sad picture, which struck him as odd, considering how she’d stood up to those nurses only moments ago. Something didn’t add up.

“You don’t look too good,” Jiraiya said after a moment. Was it because of worry for Sasuke? Was it something else?

“I want to see my teammate,” Sakura said in lieu of nothing. Despite it all, her voice sounded strong.

“I see.”

“Yes! You have to take me to him! I told you, I’m not an impostor.”

“You said you know the person who brought Sasuke here.”

“I do.”

Jiraiya couldn’t resist his curiosity. “Oh? Then prove it.”

“His name’s Tetsuya, I don’t know his surname but I’m telling the truth, I swear!”

Tetsuya? Jiraiya memorized the name, just in case Sakura wasn’t lying after all.

“And? A name doesn’t prove your acquaintance.”

“But we are! I swear to you, we’re friends. He was there when I found Sasuke in his apartment, and–”

What?!

Jiraiya had only his long years of training to thank for in keeping his composure. She’d found Sasuke? She’d been there? The reports had mentioned nothing of the sort. Just what was going on?

“And what else can you tell me of Tetsuya?” he interrupted impatiently.

“He… he’s a really strong ninja,” Sakura ventured. “ANBU level, probably. He, uh… he’s very good at genjutsu, and, um… chakra control… oh! And he has a summoning contract with crows!”

Had she been watching Jiraiya’s face, she’d have seen the momentarily flicker of surprise and horror that crossed it, and yet, her eyes were fixed on the floor, and so she continued rattling more and more facts about ‘Tetsuya’, more and more damning evidence.

It couldn’t be, could it?

Her description sounded exactly like… he almost couldn’t believe it.

Itachi Uchiha.

But what reason did this girl have to lie like that? To describe him of all people, especially when she clearly didn’t seem to know what she was implying here? And by the looks of it, Itachi Uchiha had helped her, had helped Konoha, had helped Sasuke. It didn’t make sense. He had taken Sasuke to the hospital… Could it be…? Could it be that he was the spy?

Jiraiya almost jolted at the realization. Of course. All the pieces fit now. It must be, it had to be.

He was the spy.

“Do you know,” he asked, barely containing his excitement, “if he’s also sick?”

“Sick?” Sakura parroted.

“Yes. Sick. Ill. Diseased. That.”

Sakura’s face contorted worriedly. “D-diseased? He never mentioned anything like that.”

“Oh.” Jiraiya deflated slightly. He knew it rationally didn’t make sense to feel disappointed, Sakura’s lack of knowledge didn’t mean anything, but…

“Hold on,” she said suddenly. “He was acting weird a while ago. Like something terrible was burdening him.” Her eyes had widened. “Like he was far away, thinking about something that haunted him, but he refused to say what. All this time… is that why? Is he sick? How bad is it?”

She seemed very agitated by this prospect. So was Jiraiya. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he was starting to realize that either this girl was a lunatic, or something very, very fishy was going on. Something that had been covered up, perhaps. Something to do with Itachi Uchiha’s sudden ‘psychotic break’. To be honest, Jiraiya had always found that the events surrounding the Uchiha massacre were fishy about at best, but he had put that feeling aside because his sensei had assured him of the contrary… but now? Now, that feeling was returning full force.

 

As he was thinking this, Sakura, who had already been as pale as a sheet to begin with, was now looking at him agitatedly. Suddenly, she jumped out of her chair and made an aborted attempt to sprint somewhere, but she faltered, wobbling for a few steps, and then passed out.

Reflexively, Jiraiya caught her before she hit her head with something and stared at her in dismay. So his info source was KO. Not to forget, that this mysteriously well-informed civilian girl was also Kakashi’s dear student. For a moment, he could only stare at the girl. She really looked pale, he found. Like she’d gone through an ordeal. Though who wouldn't, with such a horrific thing happening to one’s teammate? Jiraiya himself had passed out when he was younger after extremely stressful situations — most notably that one time when he’d stumbled upon an S-class shinobi from Iwa all alone in the woods and had somehow managed to evade him. He had used up a lot of chakra in his invisibility jutsu, and when he’d finally made it back to his team, he’d flopped down on a rock and passed out immediately. 

Now, looking at this Sakura kid, he was reminded a little bit of that — though of course, she hadn’t just escaped from an S-ranked criminal that was trying to kill her by  the skin of her teeth, but the stress factor was still the same. Jiraiya sighed. He didn’t think she needed medical attention, to be honest, just rest. And god knew how horrible hospitals were for that… Maybe he could ask Kakashi to bring her home?

Deciding to do just that, Jiraiya crouched, picking the girl up and subsequently slinging her over his shoulder (wouldn’t do for Kakashi to think he was fondling her or something like that) like a sack of potatoes. 

24th July, Konoha General, 03:05

Trying to get himself together, Itachi ambled down the deserted hospital hallway. He had just left his brother’s room, for apparently Kakashi’s shift guarding him was about to start and he couldn’t be allowed to see Itachi. He had been told to get some rest, which might be the best course of action if it weren’t for the fact that he was certain he’d be unable to sleep. Sasuke’s eyeless face was burned into his mind. Suddenly, he felt a chakra signature. It was Sakura’s. He went in that direction.

Then he saw her. She was slung over a strong shinobi’s back like a limp doll. The fact that it was Jiraiya didn’t matter – all alarms had gone off at once in Itachi’s brain. He couldn’t trust anyone. He couldn’t trust that it wasn’t Orochimaru with a disguise. He would only be able to trust that Sakura was safe once she was away from that man. Adrenaline flooded his system as he regarded Sakura’s limp form. Dead. Injured. Kidnapped. Hurt. In danger. The suspicious subject stopped walking and stared at him with wide eyes. Itachi barely registered it. The only thing he registered was that Sakura was in danger, and before he even realized what he was doing, he’d lunged at the sannin, sharingan ablaze, katana drawn, prepared kill if that’s what it took.

Jiraiya had been looking for Kakashi (or at least a nurse or even a bed where he could put the kid), when he felt the whisper of an approaching chakra signature. His grip on Sakura tightened. The chakra signature was barely there, the presence too faint to be even a civilian. No, this was a ninja. An S-class ninja, to be exact. He stared at the corridor where the presence was approaching from. It was odd, however. He could feel the chakra fluctuating, like the person wasn’t paying attention to concealing themselves at all, like it was more a reflex than anything.

This hypothesis was proven by the shuffling sounds that soon accompanied it, like a person dragging their feet groggily. Maybe it was a patient sleep-walking?

The ninja rounded the corner and Jiraiya realized that it was not. Before him, on the other end of the long corridor, stood a lone figure—thin and pale and not particularly threatening-looking… but this changed as soon as their eyes met across the hallway. The previously listless posture went taut like a string in a heartbeat as the person zoned in, all of their razor sharp attention suddenly honing in upon Jiraiya, their chakra exploding into the hallway at once. The dark aura expanded for a moment, oppressively, then compressed and returned to the person, creating a sudden void in the air. The type which only SS-class ninja could leave behind them; an aftertaste of death. Just who was this dude?

Needless to say, Jiraiya felt the hairs on his arms immediately stand up at the malevolent killing intent he felt (dangerous, violent, unhinged) as he looked into the other’s face. 

It was then that Jiraiya realized just who was standing across him. Because black eyes had suddenly bled into red, giving way to spinning tomoe within, and then Uchiha Itachi lunged across the hallway.

 

There was barely time to do anything; Uchiha Itachi swallowed the distance between them in milliseconds, but Jiraiya was not a sannin in vain. Just on time, he jumped out of the way of a blade, taken aback, but he had no time to process it, for he was immediately forced to dodge again and again. 

Itachi Uchiha gave him no respite in his relentless attack, hacking away at him with the katana. In person, he didn’t seem like the cold man Jiraiya had heard about—he looked completely unhinged; he wasn’t thinking at all. Jiraiya didn’t know whether he was imagining things, but he almost felt like his erratic movements bellied desperation. But that couldn’t be true, could it?

It wasn’t until the fourth time he’d nearly been cut open that the sannin realized that Itachi Uchiha was attempting to get to Sakura. 

Just what the…? The general consensus that Itachi was simply insane seemed all too easy to believe in that moment, but a part of Jiraiya’s mind kept insisting that maybe not all was as it seemed. And so, he took a chance:

“Woah there, stop!” he exclaimed loudly, lifting his hands. Against all predictions, Itachi’s hand stilled mid-strike. 

Jiraiya could tell they weren’t out of the woods yet, for his katana had continued to hover ominously, but at least now he knew that Itachi wasn’t entirely insane. Could it be that Sakura had been telling the truth and Uchiha really was a nice guy?

It was reckless and half suicidal, but Jiraiya decided to take yet another gamble. “Here,” he said, and slowly, cautiously, lifted his hands toward Sakura. Itachi tensed even more. Ever so carefully, Jiraiya lifted the genin from his back and lowered against one of the walls, then stepped back. He prayed he had not made a huge mistake as he watched Itachi approach the girl, lowering himself to the ground, leaning over her–

He put a hand to her neck and Jiraiya was sure he’d snap it, oh god how was he going to tell Kakashi, oh shit shit shit–

but nothing happened. An old clock ticked somewhere, Sakura kept breathing steadily and Itachi’s hand remained on her neck.

It was then Jiraiya realized he was only taking her pulse. The relief he felt in that moment was immense.

“She’s okay, see?” he said, calming down slightly.

Itachi did, clearly. It was like magic: one second the killing intent was immense, all encompassing… and next second none of it was left. In fact, Uchiha Itachi seemed remarkably unconcerned with the situation at hand, now that Jiraiya thought of it. He hadn’t so much as glanced at him for a few minutes now… and well, Jiraiya was a sannin as much as Itachi Uchiha a wanted criminal. Even so, Itachi‘s entire attention seemed to be devoted just to measuring Sakura’s pulse. Jiraiya’s nerves, on the other hand, were frayed.

Meanwhile, Jiraiya’s mind was woeking a mile a minute. Itachi’s lack of concern, the strangeness of the Uchiha massacre, him being in the hospital after his brother was injured, his haggard appearance… it was all pointing to one conclusion.

“So. You’re our man, huh?” he spoke into the silence.

Itachi got up and looked at him, but still didn’t say anything. 

“The spy,” Jiraiya clarified. “You’re the guy who’s been spying on the Akatsuki. You’re the one informing Gamakichi’s contact. Man! I can’t even…” 

Neither confirming nor denying, Itachi completely ignored Jiraiya’s claim; didn’t even look at him. Turning away, he hoisted Sakura up, and, once she was secure in his hold, jumped out of the closest window. 

 “Well I’ll be…”  Jiraiya stared after him in shock, scratching his head. He wasn’t even sure whether he was meant to follow or not, but he did anyway. He’d be damned if he let his man get away now!

And so, he followed Itachi around Konoha until they made it to the civilian district. It was apparent Itachi had cast some sort of genjutsu on himself to remain undetected, though in the wee hours of the morning, there was barely anyone on the street. Jiraiya grew somewhat alarmed when, as they neared a building, he spotted hundreds of crows crouched literally everywhere around it. He grew even more alarmed at the old woman waiting in front of said building.

“Rasna?!” he exclaimed, shocked. It had been a long time since he’d seen her, a very long time indeed, though even in her age, he’d never mistake that face for someone else.

“It’s Yuna,” said the old woman flippantly.

“Y-you’re alive?!”

“Evidently.”

“And you’re here in Konoha?! Since when??”

“I’ve been here for decades,” she said, inspecting her nails. “Do catch up, Jiraiya.”

With this, she appeared to consider their conversation finished and strode over to Itachi. “Her parents are in a tizzy,” she informed. “You should go in pipsqueak – work your magic before they call the authorities.”

Without further ceremony (or a reply), Itachi marched into the house with Yuna on his heels. A goggle-eyed Jiraiya followed.

Sakura’s parents were similarly goggle-eyed upon the appearance of their strange procession, though they at least seemed to know Itachi. In a manner of moments, they went from ardently protesting against the odd characters in their home, to making them tea.

“You’ve been casting a genjutsu on ‘em, have yeh?” Yuna commented as she sipped a cuppa. They’d retired to Sakura’s room, with her parents now sleeping downstairs. Jiraiya had very uncomfortably lowered himself to sit on the bed, whilst Yuna had sat by the desk. Itachi had taken a seat on the floor with Sakura next to him.

 It felt like the start of a bad joke: three of the most dangerous shinobi in history walk into a little girl’s bedroom. Except it wasn’t a joke. Jiraiya didn’t think he’d ever seen a place so pink in his life. Not much of the walls was visible due to the many shelves with books on them – the only free spaces were littered in butterfly drawings and photos – but out of what remained, everything else was… exceedingly girly. There even was a cherry-blossom rug on the carpet, and most of the furniture was magenta or lilac. A large part of it had butterflies imprints, for some unfathomable reason. He spotted a lone picture upon the night table, a picture of team seven with a forest backdrop.

“Pipsqueak, ya hear me?” Yuna called out suddenly.

Itachi turned to look at her.

“I said –ya’ve been casting a genjutsu on the girl’s parents, haven’t yeh?”

Itachi ignored the question. “Why are you here,” he asked instead, without inflection.

“Heh. Why don’t ya ask yer lil birds over there?” Yuna proposed. “I’m sure they know more than I do about the girl’s attacker.”

Itachi’s eyes widened. Even Jiraiya tensed.

“What do you mean?”

“Hm? Oh, you didn’t know? I figured the girl told you – she left to do just that.”

“Tell me what, Yuna?” Itachi demanded, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Yuna paused. “I’m not sure. Only thing I know is – someone’s out to get ‘er.”

“Why?”

“…she showed up ‘n my shop today, ‘round closing time. She was trembling and havin’ a panic attack, and her hands were cut right open, bleedin’ in rivulets, like she’d grabbed a weapon by the blade, or maybe glass.” Yuna inhaled deeply, then continued. “She was very scared. Took me forever ter calm ‘er down. Wouldn’t stop cryin’ and panickin’. Then she fell asleep for a while… woke up screamin’ moments later. So I made ‘er take a shower, fixed her hands… told her ta tryna get more rest, but she said she had to go visit that Sasuke boyfriend of hers an’ tell ‘er teacher about somethin’ – related with the attack, I’m guessin’.”

“She was attacked?” repeated Itachi, aghast. “By whom?”

“Hell if I know.”

It was in that moment that a tapping against the window distracted them. Itachi got up and opened it. In flew Shi-chan, who immediately took a seat upon Sakura’s head.

“So you finally came…” said the crow darkly, sharingan ablaze in one eye. Yuna and Jiraiya tensed, while Itachi just nodded. “Caw!” Shi-chan screeched. “I cannot believe, caw, the sheer folly of you, human!” He glared around the room frighteningly. “Caw. The girl was in a dangerous, unguarded location, completely alone and scared to death!” Itachi flinched. “And you left her! Caw! Just left her like that! Caw! What is wrong with you, you foolish creature?”

Itachi didn’t even try to defend himself, he just stared at the floor in shame.

“It’s a good thing I’m not as stupid as my human, caw,” Shi-chan continued, addressing the room at large. “You should be thankful you have me, caw, if not–” he nodded toward Sakura, “she’d be a cooling corpse by now! Caw!” Itachi flinched as the room collectively eyed the genin, whose head had dropped over Itachi’s shoulder as she snoozed. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“So… the bird saved the day,” Yuna surmised after a beat.

“Good job, little guy,” Jiraiya added for good measure. The crow did not seem to appreciate this.

“My name is Shi-chan,” he sniffed. “The Harbinger of Death.”

“Right,” said Jiraiya. He and Yuna exchanged glances.

“Shi-chan, was it?” Yuna said slyly, eyeing Itachi out of the corner of her eye.  “Who would’ve thought the pipsqueak had it in him?”

“I named myself,” Shi-chan informed. “Caw. With Sakura’s assistance, caw. The human only ever calls me ‘Karasu’.” he added with contempt.

“So, uh, Shi-chan,” Jiraiya ventured. “Can you tell us about the attacker?”

“Caw. He was a viper. The viper man, caw.”

They both glanced over to Itachi for translation.

“He means Orochimaru,” Itachi said quietly.

The room froze. Jiraiya went completely stiff, while Yuna’s artificially relaxed countenance revealed nothing. On his part, Itachi looked even more ashamed of himself. Sakura was still asleep.

“I will force Sakura to sign a contract with me,” Shi-chan cawed into the silence. “Caw. Not that it’s any of your business, human,” he glared at Itachi.

“He can do that?” asked Jiraiya with alarm.

“Of course I can! Caw! Us crows are not like doddering toads, we’re a free people. We chose who we sign – not the other way around, caw!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Jiraiya. “So, the ownership of the summoning contract goes to you? You are the summoner, not the other way around?”

“Indeed, toad man. I could summon Sakura or the human to me if I so wished to, caw, and while the human may summon us in return, my kin can refuse the call at any time, caw.”

Jiraiya gaped.

“And you’ve signed a contract like that?” he asked Itachi. Itachi was too busy wallowing to answer.

When Yuna and Jiraiya finally left Sakura’s house, they were both lost in thought. Itachi had barely spoken another word during the entire time they were there, which had been for over an hour. His only participation in the conversation had been to tell Jiraiya not to reveal Sakura’s involvement in the Orochimaru attack, or at the very least, to keep it hidden from Danzo. And that, Jiraiya found, was a cause he could get behind. Sakura seemed like a sweet kid, no way was he letting Danzo get his paws on her. Well, he could certainly try, anyway, but judging by Itachi’s earlier reaction, he really, really pitied the fool who tried to hurt the girl. Even as they’d left, Sakura had still been asleep on Itachi’s shoulder, who had barely even moved or shifted during the entire hour, clearly so as to not disturb her, even though he must’ve been getting a cramp… Truly, it was very kind, if not a little odd. Jiraiya wondered at their odd friendship. How had such a strange bond come about? 

 

 He also wondered (though he did not know how to phrase this) how Yuna had survived. He had seen her die… he remembered the day as if it were yesterday. He had seen her seal break, and yet, there she was, much older than he remembered, somewhat more jaded, perhaps, but undoubtedly herself. And yet, he couldn’t ask her about that day, not even he was that tactless. Or at least, he couldn’t ask her right off the bat.

“So, Sakura Haruno, huh?” he said after a beat. “How is it that both you and… uh, Tetsuya know her?”

“Fate?” Yuna hazarded with a shrug. The longer she was in his company, the more her accent seemed to vanish. “I can only tell ya how I met Sakura, I’ve no idea how she met the pipsqueak at all.” She laughed. “Only that the girl calls him ‘stalker-san’ when they’re alone, go figure.”

Jiraiya frowned.“Now you’re just messing with me.”

“I ain’t lying,” she drawled with a smirk.

“That’s… I don’t even want to know. Well, I do, but you get what I mean. How did you meet her, anyway?”

“It wasn’t any big occasion,” Yuna commented. “She was just this brat I got attached to over time. Used to come to my thrift shop to scavenge for things to re-sell like they were brand new.”

“Did she now?” Jiraiya asked with amusement. “Sounds like something Tsunade would do.”

“Ah, Tsunade…” Yuna sighed fondly. “How’s that old sly-boots doin’?”

“Same old, same old. Crashing parties, going to betting houses, you know her.”

“Heard she gave up on medicine.”

“Uh… that’s, well… not entirely.”

Yuna lifted a brow.

“She’s got blood phobia,” Jiraiya admitted.

Yuna frowned. “That bullheaded blonde? She had no fear of nothin’ back then. What happened?”

“Well, you know…” the sannin trailed off. “People change. People die.” There was a significant silence. “Your death was a big blow to her, you know?”

Yuna froze for a moment.

“Oh, come off it,” she snapped. “I know the slug queen ain’t got blood phobia ‘cuz of me. I’d have haunted ‘er till she overcame it if that were the case, and she damn well knows it.”

“True. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t impact her. Or any of us.” Yuna remained silent and Jiraiya sighed. “So how the hell are you alive, anyway?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Yes, I would. That seal you had should’ve killed you, Rasna, at the latest when they ripped it out.”

“Well it didn’t. Happy?”

“I am, I am,” Jiraiya assured her. “I’m just trying to understand.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“…I – had help,” Yuna admitted finally.

“Ah.”

“I wouldn’t have made it otherwise.”

“I see… was it…” Jiraiya trailed off. “Was it…”

“You don’t want to know,” she cut him off.

Jiraiya shut up. He was going to have to look into that… he hoped he was wrong. But for now… 

“How long have you been here for?” he changed the topic.

“Since the siege, give or take some months.”

“What? But that …that was so long ago. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Wasn’t up ta me.” Yuna shrugged. “The hokage and that Danzo bastard told me not to say a damn thing, so what was I supposed to do? Except for a bunch of ninja who’re all dead now, no one knew. I couldn’t tell ya.”

Jiraiya stared at her with shock. “All this time… sensei was aware you were here? And he didn’t tell me? But why?”

“What do I know?” Yuna said. “I’m just an old cat-lady, ‘s none of my business.” She stopped walking suddenly, gesturing toward a house. “Well, this is me. I’d say come in but it’s five in the morning.”

Jiraiya chuckled tiredly. “Yeah, best not.” He stared at her awkwardly.

“Good seein’ ya, you pervert,” Yuna said with a grin, brusque in her endearments as usual.

Jiraiya almost wished she’d forgotten that particular moniker. “You too…” he said. Moments later, her door was closed and Yuna gone.

24th July, Fujiwara Inn, 05:30 

When Jiraiya made it to his flat, he felt too restless to go to sleep. 

There were so many thoughts whirring in his brain he could barely even choose which question to prioritize. Yuna just now, but also, Itachi Uchiha’s true allegiance… which in other words must mean that he had been framed for the massacre, no? What even was the truth? Jiraiya was only certain of one thing: no matter what had happened, Itachi Uchiha had been grievously wronged in some way because there was no way that that kid was a psychopath. And he was going to help him moving forward, but not without finding out the truth about the massacre first. He almost wanted to go and find out what had happened straight from the hokage’s mouth right then and there, but even Jiraiya had more sense than to barge in on the people he’d be seeking answers from at five in the morning. But tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow sensei was in for a long, long chat.

Unfortunately, Jiraiya would need to get some sleep too if he was to bring his A game to said chat, but he realized quickly enough that there was no way in hell he’d be getting any sleep now. 

As was his usual on nights like these, he pulled out the blue scroll. Inside the blue scroll, there were other scrolls; scrolls upon scrolls worth of paragraphs written. None of these scripts were from Icha Icha – those he kept in a scroll with naked women on the cover – and none of them had ever been published. He shuffled through them. They were simply too personal to be read by anyone but him. They weren’t made up stories or embellished tales of his romantic exploits – they bore the deepest, most personal parts of his life. Only Minato had ever seen them, and he’d been amazed. He’d also been mad at Jiraiya for ‘fooling him all these years into thinking he only wrote about banal things’, but no matter how much the blonde pestered him, Jiraiya refused to publish any of it, even the scrolls that had long since lost political relevance. They felt too personal, too private, too him, to let anyone else read them.

After a few minutes, he stopped shuffling through them, having found the one he was looking for – a scroll he hadn’t opened in over twenty years, not since the day it had last been written in. It was brown, ugly and battered, the only kind that had been available in Wind Contry during the war. He stared at the scroll for long minutes, but his hands refused to open it. Not now… he thought tiredly. Maybe later…

Instead, he produced a new, blank scroll and sat down at his desk. He felt nervous, on edge… there was a lot on his mind. He needed to unload. Usually, when he wrote about real events, he made sure to use aliases for all real characters and places mentioned in the narrative. He chewed on his pen thoughtfully, trying to think of two fitting names…

The first one, he decided, would be Hisoka – secretive – an apt description. The second… an idea popped into his mind and he grinned. Yes, Himitsu – secret – sounded perfect. It wasn’t truly a name, but he had his creative license and besides, no one would ever read it. Probably. 

After having settled on that, the words came to him automatically.

Hisoka and Himitsu. first thoughts...

 

24th July, Haruno residence, 10:15

The next morning, Sakura woke up with a violent crick on her shoulder and a weight on her head. Itachi had fallen asleep on top of it, she realized, though almost as soon as she did, he woke up with a coughing fit. 

Stomach sinking a mile a minute, Sakura felt the urge to address his possible terminal disease, but as she looked at him in that moment, she could tell that he was really, really tired. Not an ideal time for such a conversation… 

Then she looked around and noticed that she was in her bedroom. But hadn’t she… hadn’t she gone to the hospital? She almost felt like it had been a dream. That had been after… after Yuna. And she’d been at Yuna’s because… because…

Sakura jolted and almost screamed at the memory. Orochimaru. She suddenly noticed that her entire body started to shake. Itachi placed at hand on her shoulder.

“Sakura,” he said quietly. 

Sakura tried to breathe. The weight on her shoulder was grounding, but Orochimaru’s memory overwhelmed her. 

He won’t come here, she told herself. Stalker-san is here. And it’s not dark anymore… Stalker-san is here. I’m not alone… 

 

It took five minutes for her to calm down. 

Once she had, Sakura remembered her manners and invited Itachi to have breakfast downstairs. Rather anticlimactic, she knew, but she didn’t think she could stand looking at Itachi’s hollow face any longer. Her parents were curiously asleep still (even though they were usually early risers, so that was odd) but it proved to be convenient as it gave them privacy. As it happened, Sakura was a horrible cook, so she simply put some rice in the cooker, took some soy sauce from the fridge, heated up two glasses of milk and hoped for the best.

 

The milk’s warmth was soothing, though the rice tasted like ash. Itachi, however, was shovelling it into his mouth like there was no tomorrow,, so there was that at least. They were in the middle of eating when he suddenly stopped his frantic calorie intaking and bowed deeply.

“Sakura. Please forgive me.”

“Huh?” Sakura lowered her chopsticks confusedly. “Okay? You didn’t do anything.”

“No. I am guilty of. Of leaving you alone in there. I did not. I did not realize that you were in danger and… I’m so sorry.” His stoic expression crumbled and he looked almost like he was about to cry.

He didn’t, but Sakura panicked anyway.

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Really. Don’t — just don’t… blame yourself. Please. It was my fault for staying behind like a moron. It’s completely on me, really, I should’ve known better. So don’t… don’t carry that on your conscience. Please.”

Itachi sighed, carding a hand through messy hair. Just then, Shi-chan flew into the kitchen.

“Shi-chan!” Sakura exclaimed, but the crow ignored her, flying past her until he was in front of Itachi. 

“I see you have at least apologized, human, but you remain as incompetent as usual.” Itachi lowered his head miserably.

Ostensibly satisfied, Shi-chan turned toward Sakura, all business-like, and made a cawing sound. A bunch of other crows flew into the kitchen on command, and as Sakura turned to look at them, her eyes went as wide as saucers. The crows were carrying a giant scroll.

Gently, they deposited it upon the ground by Sakura’s feet, who could only continue to gape at it like a fish. 

“The binding contract, caw,” Shi-chan said impatiently.

Sakura and Itachi just stared at him.

“What?” Sakura said blankly.

Shi-chan flapped his wings with annoyance and clacked his beak at her. “It’s a summoning contract. Caw. Do catch up.”

“I… I’m sorry? What’s a summoning contract?”

Shi-chan actually rolled his eyes. “One which you will sign so that if any other errant S-ranked criminals happen to attempt to kill you, you’ll at least have my kin to help you cross Nothingness into Death. Caw. Or you know, caw, if we can get you out alive, that’s an option too.”

“Wait… you guys help people to cross into the land of the dead?” Sakura asked hesitantly. “I thought the whole ‘crows are related to death’ thing were just urban—”

“Ask questions later, caw!” Shi-chan interrupted, pecking her ear. “do you accept the contract, yes or no?”

“Yes, yes. I mean… Of course I accept,” Sakura said, smiling confusedly. “What do I have to—” 

Before she could finish asking, Shi-chan had pecked her finger until it was bleeding. Shocked, Sakura had the impulse to cry out in pain, but she refrained. And then, without further fanfare, Shi-chan used her blood to write something on the scroll—with his beak. Sakura could only gape as she realized that that was her name right there, correct kanji and all.

“Um. Do I have to do anything?” she asked hesitantly.

Shi-chan shook his head. “The contract, caw, is now finalized. I only required your verbal, willing acceptance to bind you to me, caw.”

“So, then, then I can summon you from now on?! Just like that?” Sakura questioned excitedly.

“Yes, caw. If I accept the summons. And I can summon you as well—if you accept. But for you to summon me, caw,” Shi-chan sniffed at Itachi, “you’ll have to get him to teach you the human summoning jutsu.”

Itachi simply nodded hollowly. After that, he’d been very quiet, more so than usual, and it had worried her. Then Sakura had once again remembered the white-haired guy’s words, asking her if she knew about his illness. That had alarmed her a lot yesterday, so she’d questioned Itachi relentlessly about the matter. He was not forthcoming at all in his answers. Eventually, he’d snapped out of it for long enough to teach her the seals to the summoning jutsu. It wasn’t like any other time he’d taught her a jutsu. Usually, he and Sakura would discuss the theory and mechanics behind it, going back and forth until Sakura understood perfectly what she was supposed to do. This time was completely different. He only showed her the handsigns once, absentmindedly. It had been enough for her to memorize them, but it still didn’t feel very courteous not to repeat them. She’d attempted to coax more information out of him, to wrap him in a discussion of chakra theory, but it was like he was far away, answering with monosyllabics only, if at all. Eventually, Sakura had resigned to trying different chakra combinations until she got it right. Itachi had stared hollowly at a wall as she practiced her summoning jutsu. After a while, she’d managed to summon a crow chick. Following that, she’d adjusted it until she could summon Shi-chan at will. Itachi never seemed to notice.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. After saying goodbye to Itachi, Sakura had found Naruto and filled him in on what had happened to Sasuke and they immediately ran to the hospital together. The nurse out front told them to get lost, however, because apparently ‘room 345 doesn’t allow visitors’. 

However, something which the nurse at the front desk didn’t seem to realize was that team seven was not the type of team to give up ever, believe it. Truth be told, the poor woman looked rather terrified as Naruto and Sakura both jointly shouted at her that ‘those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their teammates are worse than trash’. This was enough to get them kicked out, but not enough for them not to try again.

Together, Naruto and Sakura spent the entire morning engineering diverse plots and  infiltration strategies trying to break into Sasuke’s hospital room, which were all thwarted by the ANBU guarding his door. Naruto had proudly declared ‘you weird festival mask nerds won't stop me’, so there was that. Unfortunately, since she had to be at her house for lunch, Sakura was forced to eventually bid her teammate goodbye, promising to return to meet him as soon as she could. Little did she know how wrong she was.

“Your grandfather is sick, sweetie.”

She stared at her mother uncomprehendingly, her chopsticks frozen halfway to her mouth.

“I’m… what… is it bad?”

Hizashi and Mebuki stared at her grimly across the table. Sakura swallowed.

“What’s wrong with him?” she pressed.

“He has been diagnosed with poliomyelitis,” her father said at last.

Sakura didn’t know what that was, but judging by his tone, it could be nothing good. “What is it?”

“It’s a virus,” Mebuki muttered. “It targets the spinal cord and it can paralyze the person affected by it.” She blinked very quickly. “It is common in children. The older the afflicted, the more severe.”

Sakura froze. “Jii-chan…” Her eyes widened. “But that’s… that’s… it can be cured. Right? It can be cured.”

“No cure has been invented,” her father said gravely.

“But then – then – there must be some kind of treatment!”

“Yes, there is,” Mebuki said gravely. “But it requires a med-nin. It’s… very expensive.”

Sakura froze. “Sakura…” Hizashi said. “We’re in the red right now.”

“But… but how!”

“Remember the loan we took to pay for the business expansion?”

She nodded, horrified. “But, but we can take another loan, right? We have to get jii-chan treatment!”

“We will,” Mebuki said firmly. “But you must understand, Sakura, things might get a little tight around here… and you’ve got to help us too, sweety. You’re old enough to work now.”

“Of course,” Sakura said. “You can have the money I’ve been saving up from my D-ranks. It’s not much, I know, but–”

“No, Sakura-chan, that is not what I meant.”

“Huh?”

Hizashi coughed into his sleeve. “Well, your mother and I have talked and…”

“I know this might hurt to hear, Sakura,” Mebuki sighed. “but it’s about time you stopped playing ninja.”

 

Notes:

Soooo????
Did y'all enjoy this spicy piece of action?? Please, do let me know in the comments bellow! Thanks :)

Chapter 15: Dedication

Summary:

Sakura gets a ramen bowl, confronts her old bully, and comes up with the Itasaku language. Not necessarily in that order.
Also, Kakashi gets angsty. :)

When Sakura went to the hospital again, flanked by her parents, Naruto greeted her by the gate. He had started explaining his new plan to ‘infiltrate the teme’s bedroom once and for all’ when her mother and father both nudged her forward. (“I’m sorry, are you Sakura’s friend? She can’t play with you right now.” “Huh? Sakura-chan?”) They bipassed Naruto, Sakura’s stomach sinking as she walked further and further away from him down the hall. Before she could gather her bearings, they’d made it to her Jii-chan’s room. He lay on the bed. He was asleep. He looked pale and, well, sick. He looked bad. Sakura couldn’t hold it in any longer, she started crying. The worst part was, she didn’t even know whether it was for her grandfather or herself, for his health or her ninja career. She felt like a terrible person, crying over her own selfish worries…
Time passed by in a blur. Before she knew it, visiting hours were over. Her parents’ faces were somber as they walked back towards the civilian district. Sakura told them to go on ahead, she’d be home for dinner. Truly, she didn’t know where she was going, but somehow, her feet took her to her old training ground – the one where she’d practiced every day after the Academy during her last year there. All of that work, the shunshin, the air step, the chiheisen…, all those days spent training, her dreams, her goal to become a great civilian born kunoichi (and when had that aspiration even started), hell, everything she’d gone through already, all the people she’d met… was it all going to fade away now? Was it all going to be a memory? A funny anecdote to tell her grandchildren over dinner?
“Sup, Bubblegum.” She jolted.
In front of her stood one of the kids she’d once bribed into training with her.
“Oh, hi,” Sakura said.
The girl was, ironically, chewing on a piece of pink gum. She plopped down next to Sakura. “You made it to genin, huh?”
Sakura nodded morosely.
“I’m mad, you know?”
“Huh?”
“You never came to say goodbye to us!” the girl exclaimed. “Talk about entitled! I had to find a new way to sneak gum without my father noticing!”
Sakura sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that, Hanabi. I guess I got a big head after making it to genin.”
“Yeah, you sure did,” Hanabi said. “Though you did beat my sister in a spar…” She snickered. “You can’t imagine the face father made when he found out! It was the best!”
Sakura sighed. “I didn’t mean to get her into trouble…”
“It’s good you did,” Hanabi said.
Sakura gasped, turning toward the girl angrily. “How can you say that! Don’t be so mean!”
Hanabi popped a bubble. “Didn’t mean it like that, Bubblegum. So chill.”
“Then what did you mean?” Sakura wanted to know.
“Just that you beating her – that was good for her. Motivated her to do better, to train more… besides, didn’t you hear what happened with cousin Neji?”
“Huh? Who’s that?”
“Cousin Neji’s like a big deal in our clan. Everyone says he’s a genius, they all think he should be the heir instead of sis.”
“Wow. That must suck so much for her.”
“It kinda does. Even Neji thinks so. He scorns my sister at every turn, jabbering about how her destiny’s to be weak or some shit.”
“Language!”
“Chillax. As long as you don’t go telling father about it, we’re good.”
Sakura frowned. “So? What happened between Hinata-san and this Neji fellow? And what does it have to do with me?”
“She copied you!” Hanabi cackled.
“She – she did?”
“Hahahha! It was so funny. Pity I wasn’t there. Turns out she pulled a you and threw a bunch of salt into his eyes. Guy went down like a sinking ship.”
“Seriously?” Sakura exclaimed.
“Yeah, dude. It was awesome.”
“That’s…” Sakura paused, her smile dimming. She was happy for Hinata, she truly was. But… if she stopped being a ninja, was that what would happen? Would someone like Hinata step into her shoes, accomplish her achievements, feel in the void she’d left…?
“Bubblegum? You with me?”
Sakura sighed, getting up.
“What’s wrong with ya?”
“I… nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Do you want me to train you again?” Hanabi asked. “I might make time for ya if you make it worth my while.”
Suddenly, all the pent up anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. “What even makes you think that you’re better than me?!” Sakura shouted.
“Hey, what the heck?”
“I’m already a genin! I’ve survived situations you wouldn’t even dream of! You’re just a little kid! I’m a ninja!”
“Hah? Yeah right!” Hanabi exclaimed. “I’m stronger than you! I can beat my sister’s ass already, the hell makes you think I can’t beat you?”
“Oh, yeah! Then try to hit me if you’re so sure!” Sakura yelled.
“Fine!” Hanabi spat, her eyes narrowing to slits.

 

 

 

Not even ten minutes later, Sakura was panting, lying on the floor, beaten and bruised. She couldn’t even feel her chakra.
“Tch,” Hanabi said. “I can’t believe I freaking liked you.”
Next second, she was alone, lying on the floor, staring at the sky. Though she didn’t cry, Sakura felt more miserable than ever. Why was she so stupid? Why did she have to go picking a fight with Academy kids, of all thing? Worse yet. She was so useless, she couldn’t even beat an Academy kid. Ugh… she curled into a ball, hating herself. Was her shinobi career truly over?

 

It was like this how Shi-chan found her.
“What ails you, Sakura?” the crow asked, nipping at her ear.
Sakura sighed, getting up from the floor, brushing the dust off her dress. It was ruined. Great.
“Nothing… everything.” She sighed again.
“It is either one or the other, make up your mind, caw.”
Sakura chuckled listlessly, striding toward the old swing by the Academy. It was empty at the late hour, and so, almost automatically, she plopped down upon it, swinging lightly with her legs.
“It’s just…” she sighed.
“Is it because you let that whelp human beat you? Caw.”
“I mean, partly… but not really. But yes. I just… I don’t think I can be a ninja anymore.”
“Nonsense. Caw.”
“It’s the truth. I have no potential.”
“Caw. Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not!” Sakura exclaimed. She almost couldn’t believe she was having such an emotionally charged conversation with a crow, but here she was. Somehow, she ended up telling Shi-chan about her jii-chan, who was sick and needed money for his treatment, of her parents, who had finally gone through with their threats of forbidding her to be a ninja…
“Caw. If the only issue is money,” Shi-chan opined sensibly, “then you just need to be a better ninja who makes more money, caw.”
Sakura stared at him, wide-eyed. “That – that’s true! If I make chunin in the next exams, maybe I could…”
“Caw, exactly. See, I solve all your problems, caw.”
Sakura giggled. Then she sobered. “But I need to work, Shi-chan. My parents have already spoken to a family friend who owns a restaurant and settled it with him that I’ll work there from now on. My jii-chan needs the money now, you know? Not whenever I make chunin, if that’s even possible…”
“It is possible, caw. You just need to start training in earnest, caw.”
“Train? What’s even the point? Didn’t you just see that Academy girl hand my ass to me?”
“So train more than she does, caw. Then you’ll be good.”
Sakura frowned exasperatedly. “But how! How am I even supposed to find the time do that? I have to be at the restaurant from nine to five!”
“So train after.”
“I can’t! I have to visit jii-chan, and Sasuke and… and I was also thinking of doing some other odd jobs if I can, taking advantage of the work the chunin exams brings to town. You know, painting walls, pulling weeds and the like. Hopefully with that I can help jii-chan some more…”
“Caw. I think you should train anyway.”
“But Shi-chan!” Sakura protested. “I can’t. How am I even supposed to make time for that? I’m not superhuman, y’know. Maybe after the chunin exams I’ll have more time…”
“No,” said Shi-chan decisively. “You must start training now, caw!”
Sakura frowned, biting her lip. “I can wait a month until the exams are over…”
“No, caw! You don’t understand!”
“What is it I don’t understand?”
Shi-chan stared at her fixedly. “I have heard the big men in the big chairs,” he informed her.
“Huh?”
“I have heard them talk, caw! And they all sing the same tune. Disaster is upon us!”
“Wh-what?” Sakura eyed the crow a little nervously. “Shi-chan, don’t go saying stuff like that! It sounds really ominous.”
“Disaster is upon us,” the Harbinger of Death repeated. “Do not bury your head in the sand, Sakura. You are smarter than that.”
“But – but how can you be so sure?”
“The viper man from yesterday is only the first sign, caw. You must prepare.”
Sakura’s eyes widened. Orochimaru. Despite herself, her breath started to quicken, her heart rate rocketing up. “He… he’ll come back?” she croaked.
“Caw! All evidence points toward it, caw!”
“B-but…”
“It is the truth!”
“But Stalker-san and hokage-sama and Kakashi-sensei would never let him hurt me again,” Sakura insisted, breathing shallowly.
“After yesterday, caw, can you truly say that?” Shi-chan demanded.
His words took her back to that moment. She’d been all alone – so, so alone. She never wanted to feel so helpless again. She never wanted to see that horrible snake man again, she wanted to curl up under a blanket and feel safe, but she knew no blanket could hide her well enough.
“But if the hokage knows about the coming danger, he’ll have time to prepare, right?” Sakura chocked out. “He’ll prepare.”
“Yes, caw. He’ll prepare. But so should you.”
Those words struck a chord within her. It was true, though, wasn’t it? Yesterday it had been her against the danger, nothing but her meager skill set to fend off death. What if she was all alone again? What if she could only rely on herself? Sakura closed her eyes and focused on controlling her breathing.
“You’re right, Shi-chan…” she said at last. “I must find a way to train. I must prepare myself. I have to be ready.”

 

 

The next morning, Sakura got up extra early. She was supposed to be at the restaurant by nine for a brief orientation (though she wasn’t supposed to start working until the next day), and she was still set on trying to visit Sasuke and her grandfather after work, so that left only before to train. The sun had barely risen when Sakura left the house. She was dressed in her black pants and cargo shirt, a clothes sack upon her back for later. As soon as she was out of the house, she performed the jutsu Itachi had taught her yesterday and summoned Shi-chan.
“Hello, Sakura,” the crow said. “I see you are serious about your training, caw.”
Sakura sighed. She really wasn’t sure whether she’d accomplish much of anything by herself. She had no guidelines, no concrete goals. Kakashi was missing and she didn’t know anyone else who could give her advice… well, besides for Stalker-san. Hesitantly, Sakura explained her problem to Shi-chan.
“Caw. You need the human’s help, caw.”
“Uh, well… I don’t want to bother him if he’s working…”
“You will not, caw. He needed to make up for his folly, anyway.”
“Shi-chan! Don’t be rude.”
“I speak only the truth. Rest assured, Sakura, I will fetch you my useless human at once. He should be brooding somewhere, caw.”
“Uh?” Before Sakura could come up with a more eloquent answer, Shi-chan had disappeared.
Judging by Itachi’s behavior yesterday, it was clear that something was very wrong with him, but Sakura didn’t know what. She recalled he’d lost it when he’d seen… Sasuke’s condition, though, as a seasoned ninja, that was pretty odd. Perhaps he’d lost a teammate in a similar occasion and it had triggered him. Sakura shuddered, not wishing to think about it. Maybe he was so withdrawn because of something related to his medical condition. Perhaps while he was at the hospital for Sasuke, he’d been given a check-up too and diagnosed with terminal cancer! Or something. Sakura bit her lip worriedly. Somehow, her friend’s bleak situation put her own into perspective. There were worse things that could be happening in her life. Yesterday, Sakura had been too much of a wreck herself to try cheering anyone else up, but today was a new day. She resolved to do her utmost to help Itachi.

 

When Itachi finally ambled into the training ground a few minutes later, he looked even worse than yesterday. There were bags under his eyes, he was so pale he could’ve passed as a zombie and his vacant stare wasn’t helping his case. Sakura immediately felt guilty for asking him to come. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and here she was, demanding to be trained at six in the morning like a spoiled brat. As he came closer, Sakura noticed that Shi-chan was sitting on his head and chastising him to snap out of it.
“Shi-chan, stop,” she said quietly. “I think maybe you should go back to sleep, uh, Tetsuya.”
It was like he hadn’t even heard her.
“Er, Tetsuya?”
Nothing.
“Hello?” Sakura repeated.
Still nothing.
“Stalker-san?” His eyes moved slightly toward her, but not really focusing.
Sakura chewed on her lip. She decided to try something else… “Ita-kun?”

The reaction was instantaneous. He jolted out of his reverie, his eyes wide as he stared at her.
“What did you just say?” he asked quietly.
Sakura smiled. She was glad he’d reacted. “Ita-kun?” she tried again.
Itachi stared at her long and hard. “How…?” he said after a moment, looking faint. “You don’t… you don’t mind?”
Sakura didn’t really understand what he was on about, but she decided to reassure him. “Um, no?” she said uncertainly. “You… you want me to call you that? Uh. Ita-kun?”
He nodded slowly.
Sakura grinned. “That’s – cool. Uh. Haha. I. Um. I’m sorry for calling you out here this early into the day, I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, I just figured you’d be awake, or well, I didn’t really think it trough, sorry, um–”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Itachi said.
“Oh. Okay then.”
Itachi was looking at her expectantly. Sakura was pretty sure she’d heard Shi-chan tell him that he was supposed to train her, but apparently he hadn’t heard. She coughed awkardly. “Do you think…” she ventured. “Would it be possible…”
“Yes?”
“Can you train me?”
Itachi stared at her blankly for a moment. Then his shoulders dropped. “I… have surveillance duty.”
“Oh.”
Itachi looked at her hesitantly. “I can train you in the early morning,” he decided finally. “I hope that’s alright.”
“O-of course!” Sakura exclaimed. “That’s… that would be great! Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much!”
He nodded. “Then let us begin.”
“H-huh?”
He didn’t answer. Before she knew what was going on, he was upon her. His first kick hit her square in the stomach and sent her to the ground. Sakura rolled to the side and stared at him wide-eyed. “What are you doing?!”
“I must asses your level,” Itachi said simply. “Come at me with everything you have.”
Sakura did. It was one of those days.

 

 

It wasn’t nearly enough. They way she’d lost to Hanabi couldn’t compare with this defeat. Itachi had beat her so effortlessly, so thoroughly… she felt like she’d never be strong like that. Like yesterday, she found herself lying on the ground, panting, her clothes stained with sweat and grime, as Itachi towered over her. It would be no exaggeration to say that he hadn’t broken a sweat.
“So…” Sakura panted weakly, straining to sit up. “How did I do?”
He crouched down next to her. “You are inadequate.”
She should’ve know. Couldn’t she get anything right?
Her heart sank. “Does that mean you won’t train me?” Sakura asked quietly.
“It does not,” Itachi replied. “My decision to train you has nothing to do with your current skill level. I just want to help you, Sakura.”
She smiled a little. “Thank you.”
Itachi nodded, looking her over. “Rest. Tomorrow, we will begin.”
It was still a while until nine, but Sakura figured it wouldn’t hurt to be a little early for work so she nodded. “Um… Ita-kun?”
He startled. “Yes?”
“Can you give me an overview of everything I did wrong?”
“You want to hear it?” he questioned, surprised.
Sakura tried to be brave. “In detail. Please.”
Itachi exhaled, looking lost for a moment. “Well… Your taijutsu is very… underwhelming,” he trailed off. “I would focus on that for now.”
“How? And what about ninjutsu and genjutsu? Wouldn’t it make more sense to work on my strengths?”
“Some may argue so, yes,” Itachi told her. “I do not mean to say that my way of doing things is the best… but I have always thought that taijutsu is the base of everything. The way I see it, one needs to reach a certain level of competence at it before focusing on anything else.”
Sakura nodded. His approach didn’t necessarily please her – she hated taijutsu – but it wasn’t like she had anyone else lining up to teach her. And, she thought to herself, no one said she couldn’t keep practicing the chiheisen and sunshin whilst Itachi wasn’t there.
“Alright…” she said at last. “Then we’ll focus on taijutsu. Do you, uh, do you want me to bring any equipment tomorrow? Manacles or weights, or…?”
“No,” said Itachi immediately. “Again, some may disagree, but I am very against weight training. Especially in the beginning.”
“Why?”
“The additional weight often leads to the creation of bad habits or less intensity when practicing punches, kicks, and so forth. It is something the brain does automatically. I know weights are very popular, but I would say that many of those who use them do not actually benefit from it. You certainly wouldn’t.”
That comment stung. “Rude,” Sakura said. She’d tried to make it playful the way Kakashi did, but it had bite.
Looking at her, Itachi faltered. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I simply think a classic approach would be best for you, Sakura.”
“What kind of approach?”
“I’ve yet to figure that out… I’m not sure how you would learn best.”
“Well, just tell me what you want to teach me and we can brainstorm together,” she proposed.
Itachi hummed. “Besides for the obvious bodily improvement, I would say your technique necessitates more variety.” He frowned. “There’s a certain something experienced fighters have… a certain flair, adaptability… the ability to chain various strings of attacks together, like a flowing river…” He paused thoughtfully. “Sakura, your fighting style is very brusque. You have a very basic set of attacks, which you use indiscriminately. You lack creativity, but also technique. The way you fight would perhaps be suited to a tall male, but certainly not to someone of your stature – or gender.”
Sakura blinked rapidly, again, trying not to feel the sting. “I… that’s what I was taught at the Academy. It’s not my fault!”
“I never said it was,” Itachi countered. “I’m just explaining what needs to be corrected.”
“So? How are you going to correct it?” Sakura demanded.
Itachi looked her over pensively. “Forms,” he finally decided. “The different movement sequences will teach you how to better adapt to other attacks in the midst of combat.” He thought for a moment. “When I graduated initially, I was much shorter than my peers… out of necessity, I was forced to develop a different fighting style from the one taught to me, one that took advantage of my opponents’ strength, turning it against them. I do not use it any longer, but I have a feeling it might suit you.”
“Are you saying I’ll keep being short forever?” Sakura groused.
Itachi’s lip quirked, but he didn’t answer. “Would you like to learn to fight like that?”
She thought about it. “I guess if you think it best…”
“Yes. I will try to unearth it so I can teach it to you. However, I’m not sure how to go about it.”
“Why? Can’t you just drill me with forms?”
“The forms I know are all in my… family’s style, not the one I invented. I suppose some modifications could be made to better suit your stature…” He trailed off pensively. “We’ll see.”
Sakura nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll see what you’ve got in store for me tomorrow, huh?”
“Indeed. Would you be amenable to meet here at four?”
Sakura paused. “Sorry?”
“Would you like to meet elsewhere then?”
“I… um. Did you just say at four? In the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Er. Right. Of course. Um. Sure… that’s – whatever works for you, Ita-kun.”
“Then we will meet at the lake instead, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. Um, at four, right?”
“Yes. Unless you’d like to meet later…?”
“No, no! Any time you can spare, I’ll take gladly!”
“Very well then. It’s settled.”

 

 

 

At that exact time one day before, a War Council meeting had been underway. Its members had gathered yet again as soon as Sasuke Uchiha had given his statement, with the additions of Kakashi (who had, to their collective surprise, insisted on taking his seat as Hatake clan head) and some official from Root. (The members had been too preoccupied with the information Sasuke had given to fight Danzo on the new addition much.) Beyond the shadow of a doubt, Sasuke had described Orochimaru to Inoichi upon questioning. Orochimaru was the sharingan thief, there was no doubt about that any longer – less so after Jiraiya of the sannin had confirmed it.
More damning yet were Kakashi and the Root official’s news: that sand would be involved in the invasion also. Now it was up to the council to decide what to do with that information. Understandably, they were not prepared for the ANBU lieutenant commander’s subsequent proposal. The newly appointed Aburame Shiki was a man of few words, they all knew that much. However, it quickly became clear to them that his silences were not an indicator of stupidity, but rather reservation. As head of ANBU, they’d expected him to say he’d focus his men on training and designing defense strategies or something of the sort. They were not prepared for what they got instead:

“My men already know what to do,” Shiki (the newly appointed ANBU lieutenant commander) began calmly. “No, they’ll be much more useful elsewhere.”
“Are you daft?” Danzo barked. “You cannot just do whatever you want, Aburame. Don’t you realize how high the stakes are?”
Some of the council members nodded in agreement. Shiki ignored him.
“I propose,” he said instead, “that my fighters make more fighters.”
Danzo stared at him shrewdly, going still. “Explain.”
“Well… I was thinking about what our main problem during the invasion will be, and my main concern was that it’ll be two villages against one. We may have the home advantage, but they’ll have strength in numbers.” He paused significantly.
“Go on,” Hiruzen encouraged.
Shiki nodded. “So I thought to myself: ‘that can’t be right. Our village is one of the most powerful ones out there, and yet we have nearly the same number of operatives currently in duty than Mist does. Mist.’” The room broke out into murmurs, Mist’s reputation for setting up academy graduates for slaughter a few years back widely known, but Shiki continued. “You can doubt me all you want – the numbers speak for themselves. So I did some digging, trying to find out what the cause behind our number problem is…”
“And?” prompted Danzo, looking suddenly very interested.
“I found it. The source of our problems… well, there are a few, but the most pressing one is the retirement rates of our kunoichi.”
The council broke out into murmurs again. “And what is wrong with that?” Homura of the elders snapped. “Our wives have a right to retire to father our children. It is how things have always been and will always be.”
“Yes, yes,” said Shiki. “However, as you all know, about a third of our graduating class is made up of women, ninety percent of which retire at the rank of chunin, if not earlier. It is simply too large a loss; not unlike a boat with a hole in it.
“In light of this, I propose the following: we re-recruit all women who have retired ranked chunin or above, and all able-bodied shinobi we can. I will dispatch a large amount of my ANBU to train these women and other recruits up as much as we can, so that we may have a larger strike-force when the attack comes.”
The room went silent again.
“The idea has its merit,” said Hiruzen after a beat. “You believe you could train them sufficiently in such a short time?”
“Once a shinobi, always a shinobi,” Shiki told him. “It’s not like we’d be starting from scratch. Their bodies can actually regain quite a bit of muscle mass in a month, since they used to be fit previously. Many won’t have been in active duty for only a short time. I believe this truly could make a difference.”
“What about their children?” Koharu protested. “They’re mothers! You can’t just send them out to fight. Who’ll take care of the household?”
“Really, Koharu?,” Danzo snapped. “If we get invaded, there’ll be no household to take care of.”
The council members exchanged glances.
“Due to the nature of this decision, I believe we should vote on it,” Hiruzen broke the silence at length. “All in favor of the lieutenant’s proposal, raise your hands.”

It was a close thing, but Shiki’s proposal obtained majority. The women would fight.

Some council members were still in disbelief minutes later and kept trying to come back to the topic, but Danzo steamrolled over them until they meekly gave up.
Next, Danzo proceeded to expand upon a proposal of his own. According to him, the chunin exams themselves could provide useful intelligence upon their invaders-to-be. He argued that, as the candidates were all genin, most of the techniques in their arsenal, nay, their very mindset, ought to have been taught to them by their village’s jonin. In other words, if they knew what the sand and sound genin could do, Konoha could get a good idea on some of the jonin’s skills as well, which in turn would give them an immense edge should there be an invasion.

Danzo also added that drawing up the psychological profiles of the sand siblings – especially the jinchuriki’s – might make it possible to tackle one of sand’s largest threats without a need for actual fighting. His arguments were so convincing, in fact, that it was agreed upon that the intelligence and tactics division would study the available memories of the second exam in order to create some of the candidate’s psychological profiles, study the skills in their arsenal and combat strategies, and finally, Hiashi Hyuga (who had a great understanding of chakra theory) was enlisted in order to study their jutsu specifically.
Seeing as the memories of the exam were mostly Kakashi’s (who had had clones tailing most of the relevant candidates), he was also enlisted to the cause as a memory donor.
Finally, it was also agreed upon that, while ANBU would start a secret training program in its HQ (sand and sound couldn’t catch on), the rest of the adult career genin would be sent discreetly to the hospital and other places to get started on basic medical training, though none of them would be notified of why.

Meanwhile, jonin would be sent out of the village to fetch errant ANBU in enemy territory, whilst trustworthy chunin would have to use clones, genjutsu, hengue and other techniques in order to fill the resulting voids so that nothing looked amiss. While the hokage would coordinate all of this, Danzo himself volunteered to (besides for his unmentioned duties as leader of Root) take care of the civilian affairs in the village. To put it plainly, he would be in charge of leeching as much money as possible from the civilians in order to pay for weapons, a makeshift hospital expansion and infrastructure reinforcement programs, as well as making sure that they could not leave the village once the invasion was underway. Some of the council members opposed him, stating that would be like taking away their freedom, but Danzo shut them up by showing them graphs which detailed the economic crisis the village would be submerged in, should it lose a large percentage of its civilians. After that, they were supportive of his policies, citizen freedom be damned.

 

 

 

At that time in a different part of the village, Sakura was already dressed and showered, standing in a white blouse and a black skirt on the front steps of the restaurant. Betsubara, the sign read; the state of having room for dessert despite being full.
“Oh, you must be Kizashi’s girl, yes?” a middle-aged woman greeted her. Sakura nodded.
“Pleasure,” said the woman. “I’m the manager here. My name is Nakamura Shizuka, though everyone here calls me Shizuka-san because my daughter works here as well. You know, to avoid unnecessary confusion.”
“Of course,” Sakura replied. “I’m Haruno Sakura, ma’am. Pleased to meet you too.”
“Great. Now come, Haruno, we have half an hour before opening time. I will show you around.”

 

As they were wrapping up their tour, Shizuka mentioned offhandedly: “so, you used to be my daughter’s classmate. Did you know?”
Sakura stared at her, surprised. “Really? You mentioned she works here?”
“Uh-huh. Isn’t that great?”
“Oh, yes. What’s her name, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Nakamura Ami. Ring a bell?”
Sakura very deliberately did not freeze. Ami. That had been the girl who’d used to bully her…
“We know each other,” she said carefully. “Though we haven’t had much contact since… I transferred classes.” Because of your darling daughter, she didn’t mention.
“Then this will be the perfect opportunity to rekindle your friendship,” Shizuka commented optimistically. She glanced at her wrist. “Oh, would you like at that. It’s almost opening time. Very well…” she looked Sakura over. “Waiting tables can be more stressful than you know, Haruno, so we’ll start off easy. For now, just make sure to take people’s orders, okay? Depending on how well you adjust, you can start carrying dishes later in the day, yes?”
Sakura nodded.
“Now,” Shizuka said. “Some advice: don’t take things people may tell you personally. For some reason, all the people who get pushed around by life seem to cope by picking on waiting staff. Best make your peace with that early on. They expect you to be submissive. Just ignore them. Remember their problem isn’t really with you, it’s them, okay? Next: stay alert. Always. When moving between tasks, this is key. Chances are you’ll get more done like that. This isn’t a job for sloths, you’ve got to be here in the moment. Lastly – the more people like you, the better they’ll tip, the more you’ll earn. So, make sure to whip out the charm, will you?”
Sakura nodded frantically, trying to take it all in.
It was in that moment that the door opened.
“’sup, mom.”
“Oh, there you are,” exclaimed Shizuka, turning around. Sakura turned much more slowly. There, undoubtedly, stood Ami. She’d changed a great deal from when they were six. Her face was sharper, she’d gotten a different haircut (though it was still purple) and the hole she’d used to have in her teeth had disappeared. But some things were still the same: she was still taller than Sakura, still bulkier, still more confident… “Look at this, Ami-chan,” Shizuka exclaimed. “Your classmate will be working with us from now on!”
“Huh?” Ami turned around, spotting her. The moment their eyes met, Sakura could tell the other girl recognized her. “Oh, yeah,” she said without much interest. “I remember you. Sakura, right?”
“Um. Yes.”
“Great. Well, gonna get changed.”
“Hurry up!” her mother shouted, as Ami disappeared in the back. She turned toward Sakura. “Oh, that’s right. We need to outfit you with an apron too…”

 

Five minutes later, her first day on the job began. It started off okay. Sakura fell into the swing of things, memorizing the menu, then the customers’ orders. However, around midday, disaster struck. She had just gone to the kitchen to deliver a new order when, out of nowhere, the girl washing the dishes snapped. “That’s it!” she yelled. “I quit!”
Sakura stared at her with wide eyes. “Hey! You can’t just leave…”
“Like hell I can’t!” the girl raged, stomping out of the kitchen, throwing her apron in the cook’s face.
Sakura followed her. “Can’t you wait until tomorrow? It’s really busy out and–”
“Listen, kid,” the other woman raged. “That guy in there – he’s a fucking creep.”
“The cook?”
“Yes! He’s a rapist, sick pedophile and I am so done! I cannot take this any more. Shutting me in the fucking cooler, getting handsy, and those leers… I just fucking can’t. Look for someone else.”
Sakura stared after her in horror as she stormed out of the place, purse in hand. She did not know what to say to that. After the dishwasher’s departure, things took a turn for the worse. Shizuka-san took over the girl’s spot out of necessity, leaving Sakura and Ami alone out front. It was lunch hour and clearly a busy day.
Or perhaps Sakura simply wasn’t used to the pace of things, but – it was just insane. For example, table one had just sat down and needed to be greeted and get drinks. Table two’s food order was up in the window, and Sakura was the only one who could run it because there were specific instructions for the garnishes. Table three had their bill and was ready for her to cash them out and get change. Table four needed a refill on their coffee and ice tea. Table five had just asked for extra napkins and a side of ranch. Table six was also a new table, ready to place their order. Tables seven and eight’s food order had just come up the window when Sakura started to run table two’s food, even though she wasn’t technically supposed to do that yet. Next, one of Ami’s tables stopped her while she was walking by and asked her to bring them lemon. There were four guests waiting out front to be sat, staring at her as she scurried about. Shizuka-san was still absent and Ami, who was supposed to be hosting, had disappeared two minutes ago, so Sakura had to smile pretty and escort them to two empty tables.
And then Ami came up behind her and called: “I’m going for a break, watch my section!” as she ran out the back door… Sakura wanted to scream. Instead, she had to smile at the creepy-laser-stare grandpa who had requested the lemon as he got up and didn’t even tip.
Then there was also the little matter of the literal towers of dishes Sakura was forced to carry around, an issue which Ami’s absence was not helping with. She had already been exhausted from her training that morning – now her arms felt like they were about to fall off. Her feet smarted, her legs hurt from bumping into things, her chakra felt at its end from all the sticking she did in order to avoid dropping dishes, and the screaming baby out back was absolutely not helping her headache. It was going to be a long day.

 

 

When Sakura went to visit her grandfather after her shift, he was asleep again, and without meaning to, she dozed off as well. By the time she awoke a while later, he was still asleep, so she left some flowers in his room and left to go pester the guards to see if they’d let her into Sasuke’s.
She was feeling somewhat refreshed from the nap, so she had enough energy to put up the good fight. Fortune must be on her side today, because, as it turned out, Sasuke was awake, and even weirder still, he told one of the ANBU there to let Sakura in. Judging by his chakra (and grey hair) as the guard stepped out, Sakura could immediately hazard a guess as to his identity. She beamed at him. Kakashi-sensei instructed the other guards to search her and remove all weapons, no doubt so she could pass through. Some of the guards looked like they wanted to hold her back but none did. In any case, none of this mattered at all to Sakura as she stepped through.
“Sasuke!” she exclaimed. He was wearing a blindfold over his eyes, thank god. She crossed the room until she was standing in front of him. He was sitting on a chair by the window, staring at it… or well, facing it, at any rate. Sakura hovered by the chair, suddenly tongue-tied.
Sasuke turned toward her. “Sakura,” he greeted neutrally. He didn’t look well. Hell, no one could’ve expected him to.
Sakura leaned against the window. She knew better than to ask how he was doing, but she wanted to ask something. “How are you doing?”
Damn. She was an idiot.
“Fine,” Sasuke said coldly.
“Um. That’s, err… has Naruto been by?” She changed the topic.
“No.”
“Huh? I mean, if he isn’t here, it’s not for lack of trying or anything. The two of us spent hours trying to get in yesterday.”
“I know. I told them not to let you in.”
“What?” Sakura exclaimed. “But why?”
Sasuke didn’t answer. Sakura looked at him worriedly.
“Umm… should I get Naruto?” It felt odd, speaking to Sasuke without the blonde acting as a buffer.
“No.”
“But… why?”
Sasuke twitched. “Do you want me to spell it out for you?” he asked. “I don’t want him to see me like this!”
Sakura flinched. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”
“It’s fine.”
“No, seriously. I can go, if you want,” Sakura added hastily.
“It’s fine.”
“No, listen to me! I mean, sorry. I wanted to, uh, to apologize.”
“Why?”
“Because, um, I know I’m not exactly great company. And I… I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m sorry about pestering you all this time, and I’m sorry about screwing the chunin exams up for you. I know that they meant a lot to you, I just… well, I figured we could try again next time–”
“Evidently not,” Sasuke cut her off, still facing the window. He sounded pained.
She flinched. Shit. Sasuke was blind. She was so insensitive!
“But you can get a transplant, right?” Sakura asked nervously. “A set of new eyes? The med-nin can do that, right?”
“Yes,” Sasuke said. “But I would need a donor around my age.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sure we’ll find one!” Sakura told him, trying to sound cheerful. Sasuke didn’t reply.
They were silent for minutes, until Sakura couldn’t bear it anymore. She got the feeling that Sasuke didn’t want her there.
“Umm… I should probably get going, huh?” she said meekly, her cheeks flaming in shame. She’d been so insensitive… she felt terrible.
Sakura was almost to the door when Sasuke spoke up again: “You’ll be back?”
She paused, surprised. “Of course I will,” she told him. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

 

The days started to blur together after that. In the mornings, Sakura would get up at the crack of dawn to go to the lake and train with Itachi. He would drill her with forms until her calves trembled, remarking that the most important thing was for her to memorize them quickly so that she could practice even without him there.
Sakura took his words to heart. It was fortunate that she had a good memory – though learning a kata vastly differed from book-smarts – but she was dedicated if nothing else and quickly devised different methods to try and memorize the sequences no matter what, from drawing the different positions in her free time, to constant mental walk-throughs of the kata. Most of the positions making them up had names, so she also memorized the name sequences and reviewed them whenever she could, making sure to mentally associate them with the pertinent movements as she went.
But kata training was only a portion of what Itachi put her through. After roughly two hours of it, they’d take a break for her to rest and eat some granola bars and then they would start the next part of training, which was basically drills. Endless drills.
For hours on end, Itachi would make Sakura practice the same kicks and punches on him over and over and over, until she felt like she couldn’t possibly forget them ever again. To finish up, he would instruct her to try and get through the kata on her own, purely out of memory (without him demonstrating like he did at the beginning of the morning) and make corrections to Sakura’s stances as they went.
Needless to say, Itachi was a severe teacher. He expected Sakura to learn things quickly and flawlessly and he disliked repeating himself. He also expected her to give the lessons her all and if he thought something was within her capabilities, he would not give her respite until she accomplished it. Itachi was also a perfectionist, as Sakura found out the hard way. He was so nitpicky, in fact, that he could consider a kick as ‘inadequate’ merely because of minute mistakes that wouldn’t influence the outcome and which no one would even notice …except for Itachi, of course (though he insisted that proficiency was all in the details).

Keeping up with his standards was hard work, but to Sakura’s surprise, she found that they weren’t unreachable. Generally, when he told her to do something that seemed impossible and refused to budge on the matter until she delivered, Sakura often even surprised herself. She quickly learned that if Itachi said she could do something, then she truly could. Sakura was not ashamed to say, however, that she counted down the minutes of their training until she could leave.

The next part of the morning, Sakura spent waiting tables. It was hard work. She enjoyed some aspects of it such as befriending the regulars, something which had been challenging at first due to her shyness, but extremely pleasing once she discovered that they tended to tip her more than they did Ami. This was perhaps not very surprising, considering Ami’s habit of scowling at the customers she didn’t like (something Sakura wished she could do as well, to be honest – there were many perverts – but alas. She needed their money).
Even so, Ami’s attitude sometimes made her question why she worked so hard. Keeping up the mask all day was trying and took a great psychological toll on her. The physical aspect of the job was also more tiring than one may think, though Sakura’s main problem came from having trained before working, meaning she was already exhausted to begin with. This made her uncoordinated and spacey, and she had to force herself time and time again to remain alert and awake, aware of her surroundings. Most of the time she felt like she was about to drop dead, which wasn’t too surprising, considering that, by lunch break, Sakura would’ve already been awake and working for ten hours. The stretch of time until her break at three was the worst, combining lunch rush and her own exhaustion (plus Ami’s frequent breaks) to make for extremely stressful situations. After her lunch, things usually got more manageable, which in all honesty was probably for the best, because Sakura didn’t think her arms could’ve taken even more abuse by then (plate stacks could be heavy).

At five p.m. she clocked out, though the time sometimes varied. Her grandfather was usually asleep when she visited him right afterward, so Sakura tended to take a much-needed nap whilst she visited him. It never failed to recharge her, but it still wasn’t nearly enough to prepare her for the emotionally-charged encounters with Sasuke that always came next.

She, Naruto and Kakashi had agreed to visit Sasuke at different times (he had finally relented and allowed Naruto to see him too) mostly so that they could keep him company for longer. As such, Naruto stopped by in the mornings, Kakashi usually lingered during lunch (even though he was already there for guard duty anyway), and Sakura made an appearance in the evenings.
At first, the visits were stilted and unnerving. She never knew what to say as any little thing would set Sasuke off – but remaining in silence would annoy him too. They were short visits. As she grew more used to them, however, Sakura stopped being bothered by the silence, which made her less fidgety and tense, and this, in turn, calmed Sasuke. She’d taken to bringing her chakra threads to the hospital, and she usually practiced with them while Sasuke stonily faced the window. Eventually, it would be time for her next appointment (most civilians knew by then about the Harunos’ financial troubles and were open to offering Sakura various jobs in the evenings) so she’d bid Sasuke goodbye and hurry to complete her next task. Some jobs were easy, such as babysitting kids, retrieving a cat from a tree and so forth. Others, such as wall painting, were more challenging because of the day’s exhaustion, but Sakura would force herself to power through them anyway. In the case of wall painting, she would practice the exercise Itachi had taught her, for example, and to her surprise, she did see some progress. Most of the jobs she took on were so repetitive, however, that Sakura would usually zone out. Sometimes, she’d gather her last dregs of motivation and go over the katas she was meant to be learning, though on other days she was too tired for even that. By the time she finally finished those jobs as well, Sakura was usually so exhausted that she went home and to bed immediately, regardless of the early hour. And then it would start over again the next day.

 

Time passed. Sakura’s training with Itachi slowly but surely became more manageable, to the point where she was no longer so beat during their break that she actually started to use it to talk to him.
“You have adapted admirably,” Itachi told her after a week.
Sakura beamed at him. “You really think so?”
“Yes. I can tell that you are putting much effort into your training.” Itachi paused. “It feels gratifying to see your progress.”
Sakura smiled. “Shannaro!” she cheered loudly. But she shouldn’t have celebrated so soon, because…
“I have been thinking,” Itachi said, staring at the lake.
Uh-oh. Please don’t tell me he’ll stop training me, Sakura thought, panicked.
“I believe we should move our training to the next stage,” Itachi said.
“The next stage?” Sakura questioned.
“When I was a child,” he explained, “whenever I mastered a move normally, my father would make me practice it whilst upside-down on a tree until I became proficient at it. Once I had mastered it, he would make me do it on top of the lake. Only then did he consider it a skill properly learned.”
Sakura gaped at him. She could barely hold out her horse positions normally, never mind upside down on aflipping tree! What the hell?
“You want me to do everything while tree walking?” she cried with horror.
“Of course not.”
Phew. Thank god –
“I want you to begin practicing whilst underwater,” Itachi amended sensibly.
Say what?! Sakura gaped at him with horror.
“I’m supposed to practice my kata – while doing the airstep?!”
“Yes.”
Oh, shit.
As usual, when Itachi got it into his head that Sakura could do something, he expected her to. In an odd way, it made her happy that he had so much faith in her. Even so, most of the time, she just wanted to punch him.
The addition of the airstep to her training regimen made things a lot harder. Not only did it force Sakura to continuously pay attention to and regulate the chakra in her feet (something which was even harder than water-walking due to wind changes), she also had to channel chakra into her lungs so that she could stay underwater for more than a few minutes – all while doing the actual training exercises. Last but not least, she also had to cycle her chakra around her body in order to keep herself warm. And that was just chakra-wise. Physically speaking, moving within the water was a lot harder than normal, more so when upside down.
But that wasn’t even the end of it. Into the beginning of water-based training, Itachi had confessed to her that he had ‘a mild lung problem’, so he could not stay underwater as long as Sakura could. As such, he explained, he would need to find a way to communicate to her which moves to practice from outside of the water. As this was the most he’d spoken to her all morning and it truly seemed to matter to him (and also because she wanted to take a break), Sakura sat down with him and they began to brainstorm ideas for possible communication methods. Even if Sakura thought Itachi was insane for over complicating things to this degree – he was bound to see reason eventually and a break was a break.
Itachi did not see reason.
At some point, Sakura remembered the trick he’d taught her to use chakra in order to send out an SOS signal. What if they took that concept, and built on it? She’d said it mostly to add something to the conversation and not feel like a complete moron next to Itachi’s shining intellect, but unfortunately, he actually liked her idea. In fact, he was immediately sold on it, going off on a tangent on associating certain chakra frequencies with certain moves and whatnot whilst Sakura gaped at him. Still, it was the most excited she had seen him in a long while, and, though he didn’t necessarily look happy, he at least seemed alive, which was a hell of a lot better than his usual zombie-like expressions. So, mostly for Itachi’s sake (Sakura didn’t think it would work), they continued to build on that idea.
It took a lot of testing and fine-tuning. Sakura wasn’t used to sensing for such long periods of time and often got splitting headaches for her troubles, though she mentioned none of this. And so, during Sakura’s allotted break time (which was longer now that water training was involved), Itachi would flare his chakra in a certain way, and Sakura would try to memorize the feel of its wave length and commit it to memory. Then she would try to replicate it and it’d be Itachi’s turn to sense it, and so forth. That way, they could ideally communicate without the need for words. For the time being, the only ‘words’ in Sakura’s repertoire were names of certain kicks and punches, but Itachi seemed to think that it was possible to create an entire language through chakra sensing.
“How would we even call it?” Sakura had joked. “The Itasaku language?”
“…”
“Sakuita? Tetsusaku?”
The ideas were jokes, obviously. Sakura was still pretty skeptical about the whole thing and doubted they’d ever even need a name for the language, as it would probably never come to be. Honestly, it felt like such a big effort to communicate a single word to each other… a simple sentence seemed downright impossible, never mind an entire language.
“Hm,” was Itachi’s only contribution. It was clear he didn’t care about the name. “Your break is over, Sakura.”
Great.

 

Needless to say, Sakura was starting to hate water. The worst part of the underwater training was, Itachi somehow always knew when she was slacking off. It was like he had a byakugan or something, he could even tell when she was doing one of the forms wrong, even if he couldn’t see her. When Sakura had questioned him about it, he’d chalked it up to above-average sensory abilities. It figured he would be a genius at everything. To Sakura’s dismay, after she’d reached a certain level at sensing, she couldn’t improve beyond that. Apparently, that was the case for most people. It only made her feel even more jealous of the Hyuga.

 

 

More time passed and Sasuke was discharged from the hospital. After they’d told her he was gone when she went to visit him, Sakura had assumed that he didn’t want her company and had fled at his earliest convenience. After all, he’d had plenty of time to tell her of his discharge, and yet he hadn’t.
Due to this, she was mightily surprised when Kakashi dropped by to chastise her for not visiting him. She’d been sitting on her rooftop, a chakra thread in her hands when he appeared. It was already dark out and Sakura had been sleepy, about to go to bed. Kakashi’s reprimand had immediately woken her up. How was she supposed to know Sasuke wanted her to visit him if he never said anything?
“But he never told me to!” Sakura exclaimed.
Kakashi plopped down next to her and fixed her with his one-eyed stare. “I distinctly remember him asking you to come back on your first visit. Or was that my imagination, Sakura-chan?”
Sakura gaped. That was true. “I… uh.” She was at a loss for words. “Did he tell you he wanted me there?” she asked after a moment, incredulous.
“Not in those exact words, no,” Kakashi said. “But after so long watching him twenty for seven, I’ve gotten pretty good at making educated guesses about his mood swings.”
“Oh.” Sakura frowned. “And you really think he… misses me?” The word sounded alien in her tongue.
Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was only then, once she no longer felt like he was accusing her, that Sakura took a good look at him. He looked worse for wear… she couldn’t exactly place why – there was nothing about Kakashi’s complexion that would tell you he was going through a rough patch. In fact, he looked physically healthier than ever. But something about his expression, his mannerisms… there was just something that made Sakura think that he had been very affected by Sasuke’s situation, perhaps even more than her and Naruto.
Kakashi was frowning. “Hmm… Sakura-chan,” he said quietly. “I know Sasuke may not be the most pleasant fellow around right now… but Sakura, trust me when I say, your visits really did help him.”
“I… I’m not so sure about that, sensei. I just don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around him.” Sakura shrugged miserably. “Naruto probably has no problem at all coming up with random conversation topics, but I…”
“Naruto’s visits are probably worse for Sasuke than yours,” Kakashi interjected.
“Worse? What do you mean?” Sakura eyed him dubiously. “That’s impossible.”
Kakashi sighed. “Just think about it, Sakura-chan. Those two, they’re rivals. That’s the root of their bond… and when one party can no longer compete, when the dynamic shifts so much it can no longer go back to what it used to be…”
“Oh.” Sakura stared at the floor in shame. As usual, she’d been clueless. She suddenly understood what Kakashi was talking about and felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. It was a well-known fact that Sasuke had always been better than Naruto at everything. Their entire relationship boiled down to Naruto running to catch up with Sasuke, always behind him, his hand outstretched, and Sasuke pushing himself harder and harder to stay in the lead, occasionally glancing back to smirk challengingly at Naruto. It was how they worked. They were friends, but they were rivals before that.
All of that was gone now. Sasuke was blind now.
Now Naruto was in the lead, was miles ahead of Sasuke, and it wasn’t even thanks to his own effort that he’d made it there. Any challenge or provocation Naruto might have issued in the past could not be made now. Any taunting comments about being the better shinobi were no longer within Sasuke’s possibilities either. What were they even supposed to talk about? Sakura knew Naruto. He was a loudmouth, probably a little insensitive at times… he might not have grasped how some of his old comments might hurt to the present Sasuke, how much it must sting to–
She sighed.
“Alright,” Sakura said. “I’ll start visiting him again. Can you give me his address?”
“Atta girl,” Kakashi said happily, patting her head as he handed her a piece of paper with the address. He must’ve known she’d say yes.
“I’m not a dog!” Sakura complained, though she was smiling anyway.
Stupid crush. Grrrr. She hated that she thought he was hot! CHA! Why does he have to be so cool even when he’s doing his best to be the most uncool person ever?? It really wasn’t fair.
“Speaking of…” Kakashi said. “It’s been a while since you’ve walked the ninken.”
“Oh,” Sakura said. She really wanted to say yes to the unasked question. It would mean she’d see Kakashi more often. On the other hand, she had so much on her plate already…
“I can’t, sensei,” she mumbled sadly.
“Hm?” Kakashi cocked his head to the side. He mustered her. “Is everything alright?”
Sakura stared at her lap. “Not really…”
“Will you tell sensei what’s wrong?”
She’d been against telling her teammates, deliberately leaving out her parents’ demands to stop being a ninja when she’d met them, but somehow, when Kakashi asked, she just had to tell him the truth. So she did.
It came spilling out like vomit, mortifying and unavoidable. And yet, as Sakura explained everything, from her grandfather’s illness, to her new job, to her resolve to keep training anyway, Kakashi listened. He didn’t speak a word until she was finished. Finally, she stopped talking and looked at him, half-scared, half-expectant.
“I see,” was all he said.
Sakura stared at her lap. He was very still and didn’t move. Was he mad at her?
“Sensei?” she questioned hesitantly.
“Sakura-chan,” Kakashi said at last. “There are some things I don’t understand. Why did your parents sign you up for the Academy in the first place if they didn’t want you to be a ninja?”
“Um…” Sakura hesitated. “They’re… we’re immigrants. All immigrants are required to send their children to the Academy until they reach the age of ten. At that point, they can transfer to a civilian school if they want.”
“And why didn’t they transfer you?”
“I…” she paused. This was all pretty personal stuff. Sakura realized she’d never spoken to anyone directly about it. “Well… I had a serious case of… um.” She averted her eyes in shame.
“Of what?”
“Um, bullying. Until I was seven or so. A lot of the children at school would, well, do that, but the ones from the neighborhood too, and even my cousins…” She felt her cheeks flush in mortification. “I used to be so meek and dumb, I never even tried to defend myself or even run away – I just stood there and let it happen. My parents didn’t even know it was happening or anything, I never told anyone. And then I met Ino and things started looking up. I learned to stand up for myself, and the fights I couldn’t fight, Ino did. And I guess my parents noticed the change and thought it was good for me. They didn’t want me to be a ninja, but… they wanted me to be happy.”
She stared at her lap.
“I see…” Kakashi said. He sighed, facing the sky above. “I don’t understand why you want to be a ninja.”
Sakura jolted. “Wh-what?!”
“Don’t mistake me,” Kakashi continued. “I’m not saying you can’t be. All I’m saying is… when I was a kid, I was never given a choice.”
“Huh?” Sakura glanced at him curiously.
“It was all my father ever talked to me about, the way we… spent time together,” Kakashi said in a monotone that bellied deep feelings. “It was all I knew. Then – he died. And I continued doing what I knew.”
Sakura stared at him with wide-eyes. It sounded like his dad had died when Kakashi was still very young. This time it was Kakashi’s turn to look away, at the stars overhead.
“But – but you love your job!” she exclaimed.
“No,” Kakashi said drily. “I really don’t.”
A long silence.
“When I started at the Academy, I did enjoy it. But only because I was better than everyone else and I was a little shit who liked to rub that in. Then reality started and I actually had to use those skills to kill, to hurt, to destroy… I hate that.”
“I… but that’s… why don’t you just quit?” Sakura exclaimed.
Kakashi continued to stare into the night. “Old dogs don’t learn new tricks, Sakura-chan.”
He turned back toward her and ruffled her hair, and Sakura could tell he was about to end the conversation with some bullshit joke, but she did not let him.
“I want the real answer, sensei,” she said seriously. “You have a right to be happy. If you’re going to be sad, there had better be a damn good reason for it.” She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly, and Kakashi chuckled, but it sounded so, so sad it made Sakura want to start crying on the spot.
“It’s true I could get a new job,” Kakashi said after a moment. “But I love Konoha too much for that. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but if I quit, as you say, it would damage our village more than you know.”
“So what! Screw the village! You’ve served for a long time! Don’t they owe that much to you, at least? A nice retirement?”
“Sakura-chan, don’t you understand? There is no retiring in our line of work.”
“Just get another job!”
“Even if I did that, it would never stop.”
“What wouldn’t stop?” Sakura demanded. “Sensei, what wouldn’t stop?” But Kakashi didn’t answer for the longest time.
“My life.”
Sakura gasped and started crying. Kakashi’s eye widened. “Wait! I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, waving his hands quickly. “I would never kill myself. Never.”
“Then what do you mean,” she demanded thickly, snot dripping down her nose.
“I… I was just looking for an euphemism to talk about having nightmares, chronic depression, trauma… you know, the whole lot, without actually mentioning them. I was not alluding to wanting to… that.”
If his words were meant to be reassuring, they had the opposite effect. Sakura only started crying harder, and Kakashi hovered next to her awkwardly, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. When she next looked up, he had left.

 

Except when she climbed off the roof and back to her room, she realized he must’ve come back, for there was something sitting on her desk. Blinking away her tears, she focused on the object he’d given her. It was… a ramen bowl.
Sakura was so shocked by it, she started giggling hysterically.
Stupid Kaka-sensei. Always making her laugh when she was supposed to be crying. What an infuriating, amazing person he was.
The bowl had a post-it note taped to it.

 

Soup cheers me up.
Always works, just like that.
But please return this to the cook,
Teuchi has a mean right hook.
-K

Sakura grinned at it. Typical. She surmised this was Kakashi’s roundabout way of trying to cheer her up after letting it slip that his life was a literal tragedy, since apparently the only coping method in his arsenal was… soup. So naturally he’d gone to the ramen stand to get her miso soup. She rolled her eyes fondly. Come to think of it, this was the first time he’d ever paid for one of her meals. Typical. Breaking her chopsticks apart with every intention of savoring it, Sakura blew at the bowl.
“Itadakimasu!”
But even as she ate, she continued to think about their conversation. Kakashi was an extremely private person. If he had shared something like that with her, it was probably for a reason. He was trying to tell her something. He was trying to tell her that, had the choice been his, he’d have never taken the path of the ninja. He was telling her to truly sit down and think about what she wanted to do.
And the truth was… after hearing what he had to say about life as a ninja, she wasn’t sure she wanted that anymore. Did she want to make a living off of killing? Of murdering innocents? Of following superior’s orders without question? Did she really want to lead a life fraught with constant death around the corner? She already had horrible night terrors and escaped death by the skin of her teeth not only once but twice since graduation. First at Wave, then with Orochimaru. And even now, at thirteen years of age, barely into the start of her career, Sakura had already had two panic attacks in the last week.
So… did she want to keep going? Did she want to be a ninja? She didn’t know.

Notes:

Your thoughts?
By the way, I wrote a one shot about Tobirama getting reincarnated into Sakura’s body just for shits and giggles, in case you wanna check it out.
I have mixed feelings rereading it. Is it boring? Kakashi feels a bit OOC in telling Sakura all this, but to be honest, I do think they have a deeper bond than he had to any of his students at that point in time… ughhhh just tell me what you think xD
Anyway, chaooo

Chapter 16: Revelations

Notes:

New chapterrrrrr!!!

The very next day, Sakura had gone to visit Sasuke at his apartment. To her disappointment, he gave no signs of having missed her. But something felt… not quite the same. Sakura was aware that she could’ve just resumed her usual routine of visits sitting in silence with a chakra string, but today, it was different. There was a tension in the air, a tension about Sasuke. Dare she say that he seemed to be anticipating something? She wasn’t sure what, exactly, until he spoke up:

“I’ve been learning sensing.”

Sakura stared at him, surprised he’d start a conversation. “Oh. That’s great,” she said after a moment. “It’s a great idea!”

“Hn.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So?” Sakura questioned uncomfortably. “How is it coming along?”

Sasuke frowned but didn’t say anything. At this point, however, Sakura knew him well enough to interpret his expression. She remembered their training in Wave, when he had refused to ask her for tips on tree-walking out of pride, and smiled despite herself. Back then, she had refused to volunteer the information unless he at least asked for it, but now was different. He was blind and he could use all the help he could get.

“I’m not a sensory type,” she said after a pause. “But maybe I can help you a little with the basics?”

Sasuke turned toward her, his expression unreadable. That was what he wanted, right? The reason why he’d brought up the topic? And yet – he wasn’t agreeing, even as the silence stretched on.

“Sasuke?” Sakura questioned.

“There’s no need for your charity,” he spat suddenly. “I can do it myself.”

Sakura reeled back. “What?” Her eyes narrowed. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“I don’t need your help!”

Sakura stared at him incredulously. How could he say that? They were a team! Was it always going to be like this? Sakura looking on from the sidelines as Naruto and Sasuke did their thing? She was so done with that!

“Yes you do ,” she bit back vehemently.

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes you do! If only you’d get off your high horse and accept people’s help for once–”

“What would you know about that?” Sasuke ground out.

“A great deal more than you, clearly!” Sakura snapped.

“Stop patronizing me!” he hissed.

“I’m not!” Sakura retorted hotly. “Do you even know what that word means?”

“You’re doing it again,” he accused. “What, do you think you’re better than me now? Above me?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Sakura shouted. “You’re delusional!”

Sasuke’s teeth clenched. “And you’re useless !”

Sakura reeled back as though he’d slapped her. That one word had had so much bite, it had physically hurt. It was clear he’d meant it, too. Feeling more hurt than she cared for him to notice, Sakura got up, her throat clogging painfully. She didn’t want to speak again, didn’t want Sasuke to know how much that had gotten to her. Without another word, she stormed toward the door, stalked outside and shut it with a bang.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Kakashi ambushed her.

“Was that really smart?” he started to say tiredly, but Sakura had had about enough of his lecturing her – crush or no.

“I don’t want to hear it! Go away!” 

Kakashi kept pace. “Sakura-chan…”

 “No, don’t you ‘Sakura-chan’ me!” she yelled.

“You know Sasuke’s got it rough,” Kakashi chastised. “You’ve got to take it easy on him.”

“I don’t care if he’s got it rough,” Sakura snapped. “That doesn’t give him a right to treat me like filth!”

Kakashi sighed. They walked on in silence for a second until–

“Sakura-chan, is there any reason for your sudden lack of romantic interest in Sasuke?”

In light of that what-the-hell non sequitur, Sakura stopped walking to outright gape at him. She felt her face flush beet red. Had he really just asked her that?

Seconds ticked by and Kakashi kept looking at her expectantly, as though his question was perfectly within the realm of the normal.

Dismayed, Sakura realized she’d have to say something.

“…why do you care?” she muttered cagily.

“Just answer and I’ll explain.”

But Sakura wasn’t listening anymore: she was panicking.

 

He’s onto me! Shit! What do I say now? I have to get him off my trail! But how? When he’s curious, Sensei is like a Labrador after a bunch of sausages! Change the topic!

“Ah! Sensei! I just realized I have a question to ask! Do you know a good place to buy sausages? I mean, since you have the ninken…”

Where the hell did that come from? Sakura mentally hit herself. That ought to be the worst distraction in the history of ever! Shiiiiii–

Kakashi was staring blankly at her.

“Did you just say… sausages?”

Ugh! Idiot Sakura! What on Earth had possessed her to start blabbering about sausages?
“Yeah, sausages! Um. Because at the restaurant I work at we have sausages,” she invented quickly, “so this old man was complaining about the quality the other day, and I was talking to my manager about sausage marketability… and… er.”

At the sight of Kakashi’s increasingly amused expression, Sakura decided to just shut up. She was an idiot. End of story. 

“Sausage… marketability?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sakura was expecting him to call her out on her crush any second now and start yelling at her. But that didn’t happen.

No, instead, one second passed, then another, and then… Kakashi started giggling – giggling! – which evolved into quiet laughter. He’d probably not be laughing if he’d discovered her secret affections for him so that was good, right?

“Sausage marketability,” Kakashi whispered after a moment, looking winded. “I’ll have to remember that.” He gave her his usual eye-crinkle smile in return. “But as I recall, we were rather in the middle of a conversation.”

Sakura was about to start nodding happily, but wait– she felt her stomach sink instead, recalling the topic. Shit. Now he’d ask her about her lack of crush on Sasuke again! And right on cue, Kakashi was already looking at her expectantly.

“About the question I asked you… you were saying?”

Sakura frowned. “I just don’t have a crush on him anymore,” she said defensively. “What’s so strange about that?”

“But why?”

Because you’re too cool for school you impudent jerk! Cha! But of course she didn’t say that.

“I just…” she stuttered. “Well… since the fallout Sasuke and I had over the chunin exams… I guess I sort of stopped adoring him starting then, until at some point… I just didn’t like him anymore. I mean I do like him, but not like like him, you know?” Did that sound believable? Well, it was the truth. But she really hoped Kakashi wouldn’t realize who her new crush was…

On his part, Kakashi was rubbing his temples tiredly, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘teenage drama’. 

“I imagined it’d be something like that,” he told her frankly. “But Sakura-chan – can’t you see how this might look to Sasuke?”

Sakura paused. She was still mad at him for calling her useless to her face. “Huh? Other than me telling him off for being a stuck-up bastard incapable of teamwork? No, I haven’t the foggiest.”

Kakashi sighed again. “Now you’re just being willfully obtuse.”

“Enlighten me then,” she sniffed.

“Just think, Sakura. Sasuke loses his eyes and you lose your interest in him – both, coincidentally, around the same time. Can’t you see what that might look like to him?”

Sakura gasped. “But I’d stopped crushing on him before that! I even told It- my friend about it, before any of this mess even happened! I’m serious.”

“I believe you, Sakura,” Kakashi assured her. “But Sasuke doesn’t know that, now does he? I’m not saying he necessarily welcomed your… uh, attentions, but you can see how your change in behavior might have been misinterpreted by him, yes?”

Sakura deflated.

“I haven’t changed my behavior that much,” she groused.

Kakashi stared at her blankly. 

“Ugh, fine. I still stand by what I said earlier, but I also get your point,” Sakura relented. “I’ll apologize to Sasuke. Even if I still feel like he was the one being a jerk.”

Kakashi gave her his signature eye-crinkle smile.

“That’s good. I’m leaving him in your capable hands then, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura blinked. That was an odd phrasing.

“Huh? What’d you mean?” she questioned. “What about your capable hands? Won’t you be there as well?”

“Afraid not. I’ve got an important task coming up.”

“What?!” Sakura stared at him aghast. “But you can’t leave! What will Sasuke say?”

Kakashi scratched his head sheepishly and didn’t reply.

Sakura glared at him. “So you’re asking me to be there for Sasuke but you can’t extend him the same courtesy?”

“The choice isn’t mine,” Kakashi admitted. “Unfortunately, this, uh, task requires me specifically. But it’s within the village, so while I won’t be able to stay on rotation as Sasuke’s guard, I’ll still be around.”

“And you’re leaving me to keep him company?! Sensei, are you insane?”

“Ma, ma, Sakura-chan. As they say, insanity and genius are only two sides of the same coin.”

“They don’t say that!”

“Whoops. My bad then.” And with that, Kakashi disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

Miffed, Sakura huffed and stared after him with puffed up cheeks. She would apologize to Sasuke – fine – but only once she’d cooled down.

In another part of the village, Mebuki Haruno was accosting a chunin.

“What do you mean, it isn’t within your jurisdiction?” she said softly. Her voice was silky calm, but by the way the chunin manning the mission desk was flinching, one would’ve thought she was bellowing at him with a megaphone.

“I… I’m so sorry ma’am,” the man stuttered. “I have no prior experience dealing with civilian matters at all…”

“Is that so,” replied Mebuki. The chunin nodded nervously. “Then,” she continued, “you’ll have no problem with letting me talk to the person who passed the most recent bill, will you?”

“I… uhhh. I don’t know who that is?” the chunin ventured. “We normally don’t concern ourselves with these things, you see…”

“I do.” Mebuki smiled lethally. “Truly. But I am sure your outstanding ninja prowess will be enough for you to find out the identity of your own superior, no?”

“It’s not so simple!” the chunin protested. “I, for one, would need to know which one of my many superiors even approved that bill, which, mind, I have no clue as to who it could have been since no one even cares about civilian affairs in the first place–!”

Mebuki coughed delicately. “You could do that, or… you could just ask the hokage himself, hmm?”

The chunin sputtered. “Hokage-sama?!”

“Do you require a hearing aid, dear?”

“But – but ma’am…! We cannot possibly bother him with this! He has way too much work right now–“

“Then find me the person who passed this bill,” Mebuki enunciated with a delicate shrug. “One way or another, I will not be leaving here without talking to the one in charge of this atrocity.” With a flick of her wrist, she showed off a piece of paper which she’d been holding in her hand. It was clearly the aforementioned bill. The chunin eyed it dubiously.

“But ma’am!” Truth be told, he was starting to look harried, and so was the gigantic line of waiting ninja behind them.

“Very well then,” said Mebuki. “You leave me no choice.” 

“U-uh?”

“In that case, I want to speak with Hatake Kakashi.”

“What?” someone behind her exclaimed. 

Mebuki turned around to face the speaker. “Yes.”

“You know him?” the guy asked skeptically. He had a bland look on his face which was completed by the senbon he was chewing on. Mebuki eyed it surreptitiously, then brushed her bangs to the side.

“Indeed, we are acquainted. Do you know where I may find him?” 

The senbon-chewer and the chunin manning the desk exchanged mystified glances. 

“Ahh, that would be me,” a new voice pitched in. From somewhere behind the line, Kakashi himself was waving at them. “I was actually on my way to a debriefing and I couldn’t help but notice this line… and then I heard you talking about me.” He gave Mebuki a happy eye-crinkle smile. “So here I am.” 

Having said his piece, Kakashi buried his hands in his pockets and looked at Mebuki expectantly.

On her part, Mebuki appeared pleased with his appearance. 

The guy with the senbon looked spooked. “Wait. Kakashi, you actually know this Kare... er, lady?”

“Why would I lie about such a thing?” Mebuki questioned, just as Kakashi gave a lazy nod to the other. 

Mebuki turned away from the man and toward Kakashi himself. 

“Hatake-san, it’s good to see you. I’m looking for the man who approved the latest bill,” she told him without fanfare, “and I was wondering if you could help me with that. You see, I have some choice words to say to him.” She smiled primly, taking in the expressions of shock and awe of all those watching. “Or her, as it were.”

“Well, I’m… flattered by your faith in me,” said Kakashi dubiously.

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

Kakashi scratched his head and stared at the sky for a moment. The crowd around them seemed to suck in a collective breath and then–

“Ma, why not?”

The senbon fell out of the other guy’s gaping mouth, just as a pleased smile spread over Mebuki’s lips. “Excellent. Let’s hear it then. Who wrote the bill?”

“I’m pretty sure that the guy you’re looking for is Danzo,” said Kakashi in an oddly cheerful voice. “I can escort you to him if you’d like.”

The guy with the senbon stared at Kakashi with bulging eyes, though Mebuki didn’t seem to notice. “That would be perfect, thank you.”

Kakashi smiled behind his mask. “It’s no trouble at all…”

 

If Sasuke had had eyes, he’d have glared at the door Sakura had just banged shut. As it was, he settled on turning away from it brusquely. He had half been expecting her to return crying after a few minutes, but she did not. Tch. Whatever. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong…

Itachi, meanwhile, was also disappointed at her continued absence. Whenever he was on guard duty and saw Sakura arrive in order to spend time with his brother, he always grew happy at seeing the two of them together. Sometimes he would fantasize about a different life, one where he had never been banned from Konoha, one where he would join them perhaps, or at least not feel so guilty whilst he watched over them. He had been sure, so sure that Sakura would cheer Sasuke up somehow. It always worked when she tried it on him, after all. But nothing of the sort had happened. Instead, Sakura had gotten into a shouting match with his otouto and now Sasuke was moping and Itachi was stuck watching him be miserable. He absolutely couldn’t stand it. His poor baby brother… 

Impulsively, he jumped out of his hiding place, much to the horror of all the other ANBU on duty. For a moment, Itachi also felt horrified at himself. What had he been thinking?! But it was too late, for Sasuke had already heard him.

“Who’re you?” he asked in Itachi’s general direction. 

Itachi froze. “I’m afraid that’s classified,” he said very quietly. Obviously Sasuke wouldn’t recognize his voice, it was no longer that of a prepubescent boy, but a part of Itachi was still terrified he’d somehow be discovered.

“What are you doing in my flat?”

“Watching over you.” Well, that didn’t sound creepy at all… 

Sasuke’s head cocked. “So you’re one of those ANBU, huh?”

“Indeed.”

“Tch. Either you’re really pathetic at hiding or you want something,” Sasuke concluded.

Itachi paused. He actually did want something, namely to cuddle his baby brother and cheer him up, but he wasn’t sure that request would go over too well. Instead, Itachi looked around for some excuse.

“Do you have cleaning supplies?” he asked.

Sasuke ‘looked’ at him as if he’d gone crazy. “And you want to know that why…?”

Itachi didn’t say anything.

Sasuke glared in his general direction and scowled. “Tch. Over there.”

Pleased, Itachi nodded to himself and began opening the different kitchen cabinets until he found what he was looking for: a broom and mop. In a few steps, he crossed the room and handed the broom to Sasuke.

It took a moment for Sasuke to realize he was supposed to hold onto it. He did so awkwardly. Itachi crossed the room again whilst brandishing the mop. Then, he said:

“Attack me.”

The room went deadly silent. Even the ANBU guards seemed floored by Itachi’s request. Itachi didn’t see what was so weird about it. When he’d told Sakura the same thing, she’d taken it in stride. Sasuke was a little slower on the uptake.

“What,” he said blankly.

Itachi used the mop to gently knock it against his broom. “Use the broom,” he added.

Sasuke hesitantly raised the broom and pointed it in Itachi’s general direction. Itachi easily knocked it away with his own mop.

“You’ll have to try a little harder than that, Sasuke.”

These words seemed to do the trick. Incensed, Sasuke raised the broom again, swinging it more strongly this time. Itachi parried with the mop. “Better,” he said calmly. “But you’re not trying to pinpoint where I am based on my voice. Pay attention.”

Sasuke did. It was like a dam had opened. Suddenly, his previously vacant expression had turned determined, his teeth gritting, his muscles tensing, the pent up aggression finally finding release.

He was clumsy. The broom swung about blindly with each thrust, and were Itachi not as skilled at bojutsu, Sasuke’s flat might have ended up completely ravaged. Thankfully, Itachi was that skilled, and so he easily made sure to parry any blows that came too close to hitting anything breakable – including himself. He knew Sasuke didn’t see it that way, but the ability to train with him again filled Itachi with happiness. 

He felt selfish. How could he be happy when his brother was suffering so?

But he also felt proud. Sasuke was strong. As their impromptu sparring session progressed, Itachi could see a marked improvement in Sasuke’s aim and technique. Despite the handicap, his little brother was thriving.

Once he had gotten over his initial reservations (and confusion), Sasuke began to really try. He didn’t know why any ANBU other than Kakashi would bother to talk to him, less so to challenge him to a fight, but did it really matter? The main thing was that he was fighting. He could actually do this. 

At first he’d thought the weird ANBU was trying to make fun of him, the shamed last Uchiha, but he quickly ceased to care. The only thing that Sasuke could think about was that he was doing it – he was fighting again. He was doing it. He felt oddly grateful, but most of all, he didn’t feel that all-encompassing numbness anymore. That numbness which had taken over him in the past days. For once it was gone— giving way to anger, fear, pain, aggression. He swung the broom again and again. He was so, so mad at everything. At Orochimaru, for daring to take what was most precious to him and for succeeding. He was mad at Naruto for daring to be better than him suddenly. At Kakashi for acting like nothing was wrong. At Sakura, for treating him like he was made of glass, like he was some… some damsel in distress! He didn’t need help. But most of all, he was mad at himself, for not being strong enough. For being weak. For being useless.

He swung the broom again and again, and he shouted and raged, and it was cathartic.

Finally, the ANBU parried a blow so strong that the broom broke. Sasuke felt it twisting and cracking below him. He knew what it meant – he had lost – but he didn’t care. For once, he didn’t care. He sat down on the floor of his flat and just… breathed. In and out.

In and out.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he felt better than he had in days. He listened absently to rummaging sounds that seemed to come from the kitchen area, but he didn’t care. He breathed in, out, in, out. He massaged a bruise. It hurt, but it was a good kind of ache. The kind he had missed.

A while later, the ANBU agent returned and the sounds of tearing duct tape returned with him. He was trying to fix the broken broom. Sasuke snorted. What an odd ANBU. “Leave it,” he said dismissively.

The ANBU continued to wrap the broken broom in duct tape. It was odd, but it made Sasuke smile for some reason. He hid it behind his collar. “Tch. You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

“Here we are,” Kakashi told Mebuki. “That guy over there – that’s Danzo.”

Mebuki looked across the street pensively. “Why haven’t you brought me to his office? I feel like this isn’t an adequate place for a private conversation.”

They were, indeed, in the middle of a bustling street. Danzo was walking a few paces ahead of them, conversing with a tall, blonde woman and what looked to be the head medic. Mebuki frowned.

“You don’t seriously mean for me to interrupt them, Hatake?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Well, he’s a busy guy. This is about as ‘unoccupied’ as you’re going to find him.” And you don’t want to be alone in a room with him, trust me.

Right in that second, the blonde woman next to Danzo turned around and locked eyes with them. Her eyebrows shot into the air.

“Kakashi…san?” she cocked her head to the side, eyes sliding toward Mebuki, then settling back on him.

“Yo!” Kakashi greeted Rio. A part of him wanted to ask her what she was doing out in the daylight like a normal person, but that probably wouldn’t go over well. He wondered if maybe she spent more time outside than he knew. Did she take walks around Konoha often? Dressed like a normal woman? His thoughts were interrupted by Mebuki’s fantastically timed question:

”Excuse me, are you Danzo-Dan’s secretary?”

Kakashi almost lost it right then. Meanwhile, Rio’s eyebrow twitched.
“Um. No.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “…did you need something?”

“Just a minute of Danzo-san’s time,” Mebuki replied with a beatific smile.

Rio squinted at her, nonplussed, then looked at Kakashi again.
“Alright…” she said slowly, questioningly. “I can pass it on…” But as it turns out, that wasn’t necessary, because both Danzo and the head medic had turned around to look at them, Danzo with a particularly ugly sneer on his face – reserved just for Kakashi.

“Hatake,” he said unpleasantly.

“Danzo,” Kakashi retorted jovially. “You look like you’ve smelled something foul. Is everything alright?”

Danzo glared at him coldly. “I will be better once you get out of my sight.”

“Ah, ah. But there’s no need to be rude,” Kakashi chimed. “You see, I actually come bearing eager civilian folk awaiting your counsel.”

“Allow me to doubt that.”

“As a matter of fact, she’s standing right next to me.”

All gazes suddenly honed in on Kakashi’s right, where Mebuki was impassively gazing back with an unamused curve to her lips.

Danzo frowned. The head medic looked politely curious. Rio’s eyebrow was twitching.

“Can I help you,” Danzo said after a moment, eyeing Mebuki like some sort of cockroach he’d found inside his fridge.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said pleasantly. “You see, I was wondering who had written this bill.” She brandished her purse and retrieved the printed bill like one might a weapon.

There was a poignant silence.

“So? Did you write this, Danzo-san?”

Danzo eyed the bill. “I’m sorry,” he told her with a shark-like smile, “but I’m in a hurry to conduct some business.”

He brushed past her and continued on his way. For a moment, everyone (including the head medic, who had just been ditched) stared after him. But Mebuki wasn’t about to give up so easily.

“Oh, that’s perfectly alright,” she assured Danzo as she caught up with him, keeping pace easily. “I’m sure we can settle things while you walk there, yes?”

Danzo quickened his pace. “I don’t believe there is anything to be settled.”

Mebuki smiled acerbically and lengthened her stride. “On the contrary. If you’d prefer not to settle it now, we could go to court instead.”

Danzo’s eyes narrowed. He looked positively murderous. “What was your name again…?”

“Mebuki. Mebuki Haruno.”

“Well, Haruno. By all means,” he said in a long suffering voice, “feel free to tell me, what is your complaint ?”

“Trust me, if I listed every single little thing, I do believe we wouldn’t get anywhere today. But,” she added graciously, “as I wouldn’t want to hold you up… well, I was wondering how anyone could have the audacity to dare keep me a prisoner in my own village? And take over fifty percent of my earnings henceforth?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Do allow me to doubt that, Danzo-san. You see, this might come as a surprise to you, but civilians still retain enough faculties to read. And as it happens, I have read this bill and I know what the fine print says.” For a moment, Danzo looked so taken aback by Mebuki’s smouldering look that he actually stopped walking. Mebuki took the chance to shove the bill into his face. “You’ll find what I’m talking about on page three, fourth paragraph. Just in case you needed a refresher.”

Danzo retrieved the damned papers slowly, that same collected, condescending expression settling over his features again. “Well,” he said coldly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Haruno. If that was all… have a good day.”

Mebuki glared at him. “If you don’t agree to settle, then be assured that we will solve this in the Civil Court.”

Danzo sneered. “You’ll find that in a ninja village, run by ninja, for ninja, the ruling of the civilian court may surprise you.”

Mebuki smiled at him, flashing her pearly white teeth. “I’ll make sure to pass that on to my lawyer then. Thank you for your time.”

Grunting, Danzo glared at her one last time and strode off.

“Just where did you find this woman?” Rio questioned with slightly widened eyes as they both watched her walk away.

“You could say that she found me,” Kakashi remarked.

Rio rolled her eyes. “Great. Now we’ve got a civilian overcomplicating the minefield that is our current politics.”

“Hmm. And how is that a bad thing?” 

Rio frowned at him, lowering her voice. “Believe it or not, Danzo-sama is trying to do right by this village–” Kakashi snorted, “– and I’m serious! Don’t you see? We’re on the brink of –  …the chunin exams and yet you insist on upping the workload of the only person getting things done.”

Kakashi shrugged. “That would be a valid point, if Danzo was, as you put it, the only person getting things done.”

“You were at the council meeting too,” Rio countered. “You saw what those old geezers are like. They let themselves be held back by customs and tradition. What we need right now is someone who can get things done.”

Kakashi sighed. “Yes, yes, but what’s the point of getting things done if they’re the wrong things to do?”

“We’re never going to agree on this, are we?” Río groused.

“Nope,” Kakashi replied drolly.

Rio blinked. “Actually, didn’t the war concil mention you were supposed to help with sharing memories on the second exam? How’s that going?”

“...”

Rio’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I may or may not be on my way to go there right now.”

“Right now?” she gave him an odd look. “But it’s almost noon… don’t they usually meet at eight o’clock?”

There was a pregnant pause.
“Wait,” said Rio. “Don’t tell me… You’re late, aren’t you?”

“Ma, lateness is a relative term.”

“So you realize we’re on the brink of an… an exam?”

“Ah, well. It’s just a few hours.”

Her mouth opened like a gaping fish. “A few… hours!?”

“Hmm. I should probably start heading there, huh?” Kakashi concluded, turning toward the general direction of his next planned location (the cenotaph). Meanwhile, Rio’s expression had gone through various stages, until finally settling on exasperation.

“The T&I building is in the opposite direction.”

“That so?”

He got a very unimpressed look in turn. “You know what?” Rio huffed. “Never mind. I’m escorting you there myself.”

With these words, she promptly grabbed his elbow and started to steer him into the correct direction.

“Ah… I can walk by myself?” Kakashi offered, staring at his elbow.

“Nice try, but no.”

Rio’s grip wasn’t strong, but in the end he let her drag him along anyway, though not without making a show of glaring at her balefully.
“Is Ibiki going to be there?” Kakashi asked after a while. He really disliked the guy.

“How should I know? I wasn’t invited to the party,” Rio replied. “Not that I want to be there. Crap Cap pisses me off.”

Wait… what?

”Crap Cap?” It was Kakashi’s turn to almost gape.

”Ibiki,” said Rio slowly, as though explaining the sky was blue. “He’s always wearing that ugly bandana of his and has a crappy personality, so yeah.”

”Wouldn’t he be crap bandana then?”

”I guess. But Crap Cap just has more of a ring to it, don’t you think?”

”Hmm.”

Kakashi wondered idly whether she gave nicknames to more people as well and, if so, what his was. He didn’t get to ask because by then they had reached the T&I building. He and Rio most likely make an odd pair: Kakashi in his typical slouch with both hands in his pockets, and Rio dragging him by the elbow with an annoyed look on her face. 

They walked on until making it to a conference room, where Hiashi Hyuga, Inoichi Yamanaka, Shikaku Nara and Ibiki Morino were all waiting with frowns on their faces.

“Well, well, well…” Ibiki began, glaring at Kakashi. 

”Yo!”

Right on cue, Shikaku pinched his nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not this again’ yet the most surprising reaction was Inoichi’s: upon their entrance he gasped, as though stricken, but when Kakashi looked over at him, he found the man staring wide-eyed at Rio, who was in the process of turning to leave. Having noticed the stare, Rio turned back around and eyed Inoichi suspiciously. 

Seemingly catching up with the situation, Ibiki asked her: “Who’re you?”

Rio looked over at Kakashi. “I’m just delivering the stray,” she deadpanned, looking perfectly serious, though there was something mischievous about the glance Rio shot him. Kakashi noted distractedly that she had a dimple in her right cheek. “Anyway,” she shoved him no too gently into the room, “Terribly sport but we must part ways here, Kakashi–” 

Inoichi’s chakra flared harshly in that instant. His eyes were wide and glazed over, a strange expression on his face, as though having just seen a ghost. “Inoue,” he whispered brokenly. 

Everyone stared at him. 

“...that’s not my name,” Rio said after a tense pause. “You must’ve confused me with someone else.”

Meanwhile, Inoichi looked close to tears, his voice tinted with emotion. “Inoue…”

Kakashi felt a cold suspicion slowly begin to dawn on him even as Rio frowned at Inoichi. “Yamanaka-san, please don’t call me that again.”

“But...!” 

“Hey, man,” Shikaku cut in, placating, “maybe you should–”

Inoichi tore his grip away. “No!” he hissed. “You believe I wouldn’t recognize my own daughter?”

There was a shocked silence. Rio opened her mouth, then closed it. 

The dreadful feeling Kakashi had begun to feel in his gut took shape and expanded. Meanwhile, Shikaku, Hiashi and Ibiki were looking back and forth between Inoichi and Rio with looks of shock on their faces. Kakashi wasn’t nearly as surprised. Knowing what he did about Rio’s abilities and Danzo’s propensity to kidnap children, it all made perfect sense… 

Looks like Danzo strikes again… he thought coldly. He should’ve known. That damned rat… 

In that moment, Rio threw him a poisonous look and Kakashi knew she’d heard his thoughts, but he didn’t care. In fact, he welcomed it. Let her hear what other people thought about the ‘great’ Danzo. Let her get some criticism. She must’ve been brainwashed at some point, but perhaps she was like Tenzo and she’d see the light if only he tried hard enough–  

He opened his mouth, not even sure how to phrase what he wanted to say, but certain that he was going to tell Inoichi as much as he knew about Río’s circumstances.

But in that exact moment, Rio’s head whipped to the side so that her eyes stared directly into his, wide and scared, as if begging him to stay silent. Kakashi gritted his teeth. 

What he hadn’t expected was for Río to invade his personal space and start whispering into his ear. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare tell him, Kakashi. This is my life and not yours; and a matter of national security besides. What do you think will happen if Yamanaka goes on a crusade against Danzo-sama?”

Kakashi was so unnerved at Río whispering into his ear that it took him a moment to process what she’d actually said. Which was a moment too long, because by the time Río had stepped away, his mind was still in short-circuited mode, something not entirely advisable when surrounded by members of the torture and intelligence division. Who were all staring at him.

“Yes, Kakashi?” Inoichi questioned. “Were you going to say something?” 

Kakashi opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was starting to realize that Río was right. If Inoichi found out the truth… if the missing clan heiress reappeared after decades of radio silence, and just before the invasion too…  It was the worst possible time for it to happen. The political unrest that the whole debacle would cause could become truly dangerous in combination with the invasion.

They couldn’t afford to let the news get out. Not now. As much as he hated to cover Danzo’s tracks in anything, if Inoichi started an all-out battle against him to recover his long-lost daughter now of all times, he would in doing so also start a slander campaign that would involve the entire village. The news would spread like wildfire – even to the neighbouring villages – and that would be the point of no return. Not only would it be a huge blow to Konoha’s reputation and stability, but also, when paired with the invasion, it could lead to a civil war – or worse.

And so, as much as the thought grated on his nerves, Kakashi knew that he would have to abide by Rio’s request to keep quiet. For now, that is. He suppressed a sigh and looked over to Rio, who nodded at him once shortly. 

“Maa, Yamanaka-san,” Kakashi said at last. “I was going to ask you whether you have any advice on cactus watering? Mine is dying and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Inoichi’s teeth clenched. “Enough of your bullshit, Hatake!” he shouted. “Tell me what you were going to say!”

“Nothing!” Kakashi said, raising his hands innocently. “I swear it by my dying cactus.”

“But you stopped,” Inoichi countered. “You were going to say something – I know you were – and then you looked at Inoue and now–!”

“Ma, ma, I was just… ah, reminded of a cactus by her eye color. That’s why I was looking at her.” 

“Hatake!!!” Inoichi grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him violently. 

Meanwhile, Kakashi felt unbelievably guilty but also resolute not to give anything away.

Rio was biting her lip while watching them, her expression clouded over. Even as Shikaku and Hiashi started trying to pry Inoichi off Kakashi, Kakashi’s focus was on Río. Unlike her, he couldn’t read minds, so he had no clue what she was thinking, whether she was freaking out over the looming threat of a war, or her parentage… but one thing was clear, she was just as lost on how to handle the situation as he was. He felt terrible. He felt like he’d not just failed Inoichi, but also Río herself by not saying anything, but on the other hand, what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t jeopardize the village. Not now.

Eventually, Rio seemed to forcefully steel herself. She took a vacillating step forward and the movement was enough to immediately stop Inoichi’s rampage. Following that, he let go of Kakashi so suddenly that he nearly dropped to the floor.

However, no one seemed to care as the entire room honed in on Río.

“Listen closely, Yamanaka-san,” she said slowly, her voice carefully level. “I am not your daughter. I don’t know why you would think that, but I am not your daughter. Just because we resemble each other doesn’t mean I’m her. Yes?”

Inoichi was shaking his head. He looked over at Kakashi imploringly, but Kakashi looked away. 

“You are. Inoue. I can tell. Those eyes, they are the same as your mother’s. No one else in the family has them. It’s you. That nose, chin and build… it’s you. The shape of your jaw… No, I am certain.”

Rio looked away. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and it was in that moment that Kakashi smelled her fear. He didn’t think anyone else could’ve picked up on it, perhaps not even him if she hadn’t been standing so close, but in that moment he was sure of it. However calm she looked, there was a deep unrest boiling beneath the surface that she wasn’t letting anyone see. Almost as though she had heard his thoughts (which… was likely… shit) her expression suddenly hardened, her voice turning impersonal. “I’m not…” she said solemnly. “Yamanaka-san, it saddens me to tell you this, but I’m not whoever you think I am. I am not the Inoue you seem to remember, nor will I ever be.”

“Yes, you–”

“ Please stop it . I know who I am and I’m not your daughter. I understand that her loss must have hurt you…” there was a long pause, “…but I’m not her. I’m not. Please understand. Please, Yamanaka-san. I am just trying to do my job.”

Inoichi was looking at her with an absolutely heartbroken expression. After a long silence, Shikaku put a hand on his shoulder. “Give us a sec?” he suggested to the room at large.

Rio nodded and left the room. So did everyone else.

 

On his part, Kakahi knew eavesdropping was wrong, but he had already poked his nose into so many private affairs he was supposed to know nothing about that he rarely felt the sting of his conscience anymore. But if he was being honest with himself, he likely wouldn’t have listened in if it had been anyone else they were talking about.

“How can you be sure it’s her?” Shikaku was whispering.

“I just know, man, I just know!” Inoichi snapped. There was a beat of silence.

“Hey,” the Nara said quietly. “Hey, listen to me. This isn’t like you. It’s been so long ago that she disappeared… how can you tell?”

“I just… didn’t you hear what I said earlier? Chihiro is the only one in the family with green eyes. No one else has them. Not even Ino. But Inoue did… they’re the exact same, Shikaku, I’m telling you.”

“You don’t know anything about that woman out there,” Shikaku groused. “Just because she has green eyes and blonde hair doesn’t mean she’s Inoue.”

“But–”

“No, listen to me. Inoue went missing twenty years ago. That’s two decades. Two. Decades. Inoichi. That’s a long time and you know it. Don’t you think we’d have found her if she was really here all along?”

“It’s just… I just have this feeling deep in my bones–” Inoichi heaved a long sigh. “But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps the stress of this whole thing truly is getting to me. But I do feel like it could be her… just when I finally thought I’d found closure…”  

Without prompt, Río unexpectedly knocked and re-entered the room. Her jaw was clenched tight and her shoulders tense.

“Listen…” she muttered. “We can get a paternity test done, if you want.” She paused, her voice lowering the slightest bit. “Though… I can tell you already what the result will be… I’m not her.”

Inoichi’s eyes lit up. “Still! That sounds great, I appreciate it.”

Kakashi suppressed a sigh. He felt bad for the poor man. There was not a doubt in his mind that the results of the test would be exactly what Rio had said. A sham. But Inoichi had no way of knowing just who Rio was connected to, that she was from Root, that Danzo could pull any number of strings at the hospital. And even if Inoichi mistrusted the veracity of the results and tried to find out who she really was, Rio herself had said that her real face was known to very few people. 

Yes, Kakashi thought. No matter what Inoichi tried, it would all be futile. Río would lie straight to her father’s face if that’s what it took; she would do whatever Danzo told her to do just like a good little soldier.

Half an hour later, Sakura returned to Sasuke’s apartment with an old cardboard box clutched in her hands. An ANBU opened the door.

“Can I come in?” she questioned hesitantly.

The ANBU nodded his head. Sakura stepped into the flat and gingerly removed her shoes. Walking further into the home, she found Sasuke in the living room.

“Sakura,” he greeted.

He didn’t look mad. In fact, he looked oddly peaceful. Sakura thanked her lucky stars for that and stepped further into the room.

She paused. “Hey.” She hesitantly drew even closer to him. “I brought this.”

Extending her hands, she waited patiently until Sasuke had grasped her peace offering.

 “It’s a box,” he concluded after a moment. “What’s inside?”

“It’s not a big deal or anything. Just…” Sakura scratched her cheek. “It’s got… uhh. Um.”

“What.”

“Well, I figured… since you’re trying to learn sensing… I brought you silkworms.”

Sasuke’s eyebrows scrunched up. “Silkworms?”

“Yeah,” Sakura said. “To practice. I know it may sound weird… but you can try to sense what’s going on inside the box… the little lifeforms inside… how many of them there are, what they’re doing, where they are… that’s how I learned. Except I did it with an ant colony. But I figure it will be easier with larger life forms such as these.”

Sasuke nodded slowly, opening the box. “Do I have to feed them?” He sounded horrified at this prospect.

Sakura laughed. “You just have to add leaves occasionally. Have you never had silkworms before? As a kid?”

Sasuke’s nose scrunched up. “That was more my brother’s thing.”

Sakura blinked. She’d never heard him talk about his brother before, hadn’t even known that he had one to begin with. Huh… odd. Something was up with that, she could tell. Aware of Sasuke’s mercurial moods, she decided it was best not to pry. Instead, Sakura tapped the box with the silkworms.

“Oh. Well, you don’t have to keep them if you don’t want to. I just… I thought it might help. With the sensing thing! Not that I thought that you needed my help or anything. I just figured I’d help you… because you’re my friend. Um. I’m rambling.”

Sasuke snorted. “It’s… fine.” He advanced into the flat and more or less bumped into things until he’d made it to the kitchen table. He grimaced. Then he placed the box on top.

Sakura frowned. The flat gave her bad memories. “Have you thought about getting a new place?” she asked quietly, leaning against the counter.

Sasuke paused, an oddly thoughtful and sort of pinched expression crossing his face. A moment later, he accidentally walked into the fridge, then stumbled back and proceeded to fumble around until he’d found the latch. Once this was accomplished, Sasuke at long last opened the fridge and Sakura realized that he apparently wasn’t going to answer. But that was okay, Sakura knew that it was best not to push if he didn’t want to talk about it. After a few failed attempts at opening the fridge, Sasuke attempted to find something inside. Sakura wanted to help him, but she refrained, recalling Kakashi’s advice. Finally, his hands closed over the lettuce and he turned back to the table. A few minutes later, some salad leaves had been successfully added to the silkworms.

“You know, Sasuke…” Sakura ventured hesitantly. “When something’s going on, you have to tell me. I can’t read your mind, so… I want to be there for you, but you’ve got to tell me how.”

Sasuke was quiet for the longest time. “Train with me,” he said after a moment. 

Sakura tried to hide the surprise from her voice. “That’s… okay. I can do that.”

Sasuke nodded, apparently pleased. He took a broom that was leaning on a wall and twirled it once. “I want to learn how to fight with a bo staff.”

“Oh. That’s… wow.”

“Hn. Do you know if Kakashi’s around?” 

“He had a mission, but I’m sure even if he can’t teach you, he could recommend someone else. If I see him, I could tell him to drop by?”

Sasuke nodded. “That would be… ideal.” Though he didn’t say anything, his expression was thankful.

Sakura smiled, a little sadly. “It’s nothing, Sasuke.”

After Rio had left with promises of getting the paternity test done that evening, Inoichi, Shikaku, Hiashi, Ibiki and Kakashi were all left alone in silence. But there was work to be done, memories to be analyzed, and so they got to work.

If Kakashi already found being in Río’s presence unsettling because of her mind-reading abilities, then the experience of letting Inoichi put a hand on top of his head was way worse. It didn’t make sense – Río was by far more dangerous than the man (she was the mindflayer!) and also from Root – but somehow Inoichi’s hand on Kakashi’s head just made him want to bolt in the opposite direction all the same. The man’s expression was so serious now in contrast with his usual easy-going mannerisms that Kakashi was more than a little unnerved (and so was everyone else in the room, he noticed), but it wasn’t just that. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he almost felt… as though he had been in this position before. The recollection was more a bunch of sensations than anything, as though from a dream long ago. An unpleasant dream. The sensation of someone’s hand clutching his face came to him forcefully. Someone’s hand covering his sharingan, and the sight of a bone poking out of said hand, the feeling of terror that his sharingan was being covered and he was now defenceless, followed by the sensation of falling, falling, falling… 

Kakashi felt horrified.

What was that? Was that really just a dream? Or was it something more, something real? But before his thoughts could spiral down the rabbit hole, Shikaku’s voice shook him out of the reverie.

“Well,” the Nara drawled. “Why don’t we start off by watching the memories of how our own kids performed in the test? I heard they all did pretty well, and since they’ve all passed, it’s likely that they came into contact with a significant number of sand genin.” The suggestion wasn’t fooling anyone – it was clearly geared toward easing off the tense atmosphere in the room. Unsurprisingly, it worked like a charm. Ibiki of all people (who didn’t have any kids) jumped on the suggestion like a man who had been thrown a lifeline, and even Kakashi found himself agreeing. Inoichi didn’t say anything, but he, too, perked up a little bit. It was a well-known fact that he was a family man. 

The only one who didn’t seem thrilled at the prospect of watching his child perform was Hiashi. Kakashi has heard from Kurenai that the man’s oldest daughter (and heiress) wasn’t exactly a fighting machine (though Kurenai had politely used the term “gentle soul”), and proud man that Hiashi was, Kakashi could imagine that he wasn’t exactly thrilled at having to watch all the other heirs thrive whilst his own daughter wilted. And have everyone else see it too.

Suits him right , Kakashi thought. 

His ruminations were quickly wiped from his mind, however, once Inoichi’s hand returned to his head – this time to stay. The experience of having one’s mind read was the weirdest Kakashi had ever had, more so when his own memories suddenly began appearing on command, without him voluntarily bringing them to his head.

It was so weird. The recollection was much clearer than anything he‘d have been able to remember on his own.

They were watching the Ino Squad plot.

“Um, uh, mmm…” Hinata stuttered suddenly. “Ino-san… could I… um, could you leave Neji-nii-san to me?”

 

Ino blinked, surprised. “Are you… sure?”

 

Hinata didn’t look sure at all, but she nodded. “I have an idea to, um, defeat him? B-but…” her eyes fitted around nervously. “I would need someone to – to distract him first? Um, because he can see chakra? So… so a lot of people would have to s-surround him so that he doesn’t… see so, um, clearly anymore?”

 

Ino nodded slowly. “So…” she ventured, appraising Hinata. “You want to, like, saturate Neji’s byakugan with so much chakra around him that he won’t notice you approaching?”

 

Hinata nodded, a fierce look on her delicate face. The two girls smiled at each other.

“Alright then, Hinata,” Ino declared. “I’m trusting you with this.”

 

Kakashi chanced a look around the room. Inoichi’s eyes were closed in concentration, his hand still over Kakashi’s face, but he was smiling now, as though the sight of his daughter had brightened his dark mood. 

He glanced around the room. Shikaku, Ibiki and Hiashi were all sitting in chairs. Their eyes were closed, except for Ibiki, who occasionally opened them to take notes. 

Huh, thought Kakashi. He hadn‘t pegged Ibiki as a note-taker.

Hiashi looked oddly constipated, like he‘d swallowed a lemon and was trying to look for the closest rubbish bin to spit it out. On his part, Shikaku looked asleep.

“Kakashi,” Inoichi admonished. “Close your eyes. You need to focus or I’ll end up hurting you.”

“Yes, yes…”

Kakashi sighed and shut his eyes, though the sensation of blindness made him uneasy. Poor Sasuke, he thought again.

 

Ino was crouching behind a water deposit in the hospital roof. She was looking keenly at the fight unfolding in front of her, poised in a way that spoke of chunin and not genin.

Ahead of her, the rest of the Ino Squad was duking it out against their enemy competitors. Memory Kakashi glanced over to Hinata. She was advancing stealthily toward Neji. She was good at hiding, this girl, thought memory Kakashi, even as he watched her use some of the other genin in order to cover her tracks. Adding them and the bedsheets, which hung over the clotheslines, she was like a ghost, gliding forwards, as invisible as a breeze.

Unfortunately for him, Neji was too busy fending off his other ten assailants to notice this breeze; in fact he never saw her coming until it was too late.

Like a wind that suddenly picks up into a hurricane, Hinata suddenly shot out from behind a sheet, covered by it until the last second. A split second later, Neji heard her, turned around, realization and shock coalescing upon his face at once, but by then Hinata’s hand had reached into her pouch for what would turn out to bring Neji’s impending demise. She’d started to jump even as her hand retrieved something and extended forward. Neji’s byakugan honed in on her, but by then Hinata had released what she was holding — had thrown it — Kakashi amended, right into Neji’s face. 

It was pepper.

Shikaku, Inoichi, Ibiki, and most notably, Hiashi, watched open-mouthed as Neji went down like a sinking ship. He was flailing blindly due to the pepper, and not one to miss such a chance, Hinata tied him up with a flourish. His ‘gentle’ fists were now tied behind his back, his prodigal eyes shut in pain. Hinata had won. Just like that.

The wilting heiress had thrived, and she was smiling broadly. It looked so odd on her normally reserved face that Ino, who during this altercation had managed to possess one of the sound nin, whilst Kankuro’s puppet held him down, did a double take inside the other guy’s body (and was nearly pushed off the roof for it). Meanwhile, Lee was shouting triumphantly, the bed-sheets clutched in his right hand while he executed a fist-pump with the left. He looked odd without the green jumpsuit, Kakashi found. Odd, but better. Lastly, Choji had taken down the nin dubbed as ‘glasses wanker’ who had turned out to be a shadow clone, the real version of him missing.

The Ino Squad had won. Ino, who had returned to her body at once, ran toward Hinata and enveloped her into a tight hug that ended up lifting her off the ground. Hinata squawked horrified even as Ino twirled her around delightedly.

“Yes! We did it! I can’t believe we did it! YES! Well done, Ino Squad!” she screeched joyously.

Hinata smiled at her. “I… I’m grateful you trusted me, Ino-san,” she confessed quietly.

Ino let go and smiled at her. “Of course I trusted you. And you did great!”

“I… yes,” Hinata said. “It’s just… most of the time, I feel like no one trusts me with anything. Not even the simplest task. I just…” She looked away. “You remember Sakura-san?”

Ino blinked. “Yeah. You mean when she beat you back then? At the finals, for the taijutsu exam?”

Hinata nodded. “Watching her win… it… it gave me hope.”

Ino stared at her dumbly. “Um. Sorry?”

Hinata shook her head wryly. “I mean… no one was expecting her to win. No one supported her or thought she could do it… it’s the same as with my family. Everyone thought that she wasn’t strong enough to win. And… maybe she wasn’t. But she found a way to win an – anyway. And that… that really inspired me. If she could win against the odds… it taught me that so can I.” Hinata smiled, small but hopeful. “And now, you trusted in me. So thank you, Ino-san.”

Slowly, a bright grin extended over Ino’s features. “No problem, Hinata. Don’t think I didn’t notice you barely stuttered just now.” She winked and Hinata went beet red. 

“I-Ino-san!” she squeaked.

“But if you think that this makes you Forehead’s rival,” Ino added, “then you’ve got another thing coming. ‘Cause I’m her rival and her best friend. So… just letting you know.”

“O-of course not! I would never presume — I-I’m so sorry!”

“I’m just messing with you, Hinata!”

Kakashi cracked an eye open to look around the room. Hiashi had a strangely touched expression upon his face that he was sure wasn’t meant to be seen, and upon closer inspection, his eyes looked kind of moist. Yup. Definitely not meant to be seen.

He looked away quickly and around the room. Inoichi’s face, he noted, was now positively glowing with pride, even if it was sort of dampened by what had happened earlier, while Ibiki looked constipated, as though so much sentimentality had given him indigestion. By contrast, Shikaku’s expression was reserved and thoughtful, almost meditative. Well, his son hadn’t made an appearance, so Kakashi supposed that there was no reason for the Nara to get side-tracked right then. Kakashi would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t felt proud of Sakura-chan too in that moment, even though she hadn’t technically even been there. It was just… his cute, little genin was inspiring everyone! Awwww. He was sure his old teammates would’ve been proud too.

Kakashi was so lost in his musings that he nearly punted Inoichi through the wall when the man pinched him. Inoichi stared at him blankly. Kakashi, having just managed to reign in his impulse, smiled innocently. Inoichi gave him a dirty look.

“Kakashi,” the blonde hissed at him “Pay. Attention.”

Rolling his eyes long-sufferingly, Kakashi nodded and let them drop shut again. By the time they had watched Shikamaru’s defeat of Gaara, Shikaku’s face had acquired a secretly delighted quality. All the clan heads were looking extremely content, until the moments leading up to the end of the test came, where all the passing candidates would have to make it back to the hokage mountain. Unfortunately for Shikamaru, this involved being chased by Gaara across the entire civilian market (Temari and Tenten hot on their heels), whilst for the Ino Squad, this meant making it to the hokage mountain with the bed-sheets, whilst also avoiding getting caught by Dozu, Neji and the other stronger genin, who were now all thirsting for revenge.

In the end, it all came down to a mad dash up the cliff of the hokage mountain, which in other words meant that anyone not good enough to tree walk like a pro was left behind. This included one purple haired (and wailing) Ami Nakamura, who had tried to hold onto Choji’s back as a means to get lugged up the mountain as well. Unfortunately for her, Choji had other ideas in mind, and ended up dropping her like a hot potato. This was not the case for all the civilians, as Ino demonstrated by helping Makoto up, though it was the general trend. Most unfortunately for them, Neji and Dozu managed to catch up exactly at the same time as Shikamaru, Temari, Gaara and Tenten reached the hokage mountain.

Shikamaru’s face by then was so red that it looked like he was about to have a stroke, so Ino, who clearly commiserated with her teammate, tried to help him… and that was the beginning of the end.

 

“Hey, everyone,” she shouted even as she and the others sprinted up the mountain. “Do you see that lazy bum over there?” she pointed in Shikamaru’s general direction. “Let’s all transform into him!”

Most of the Ino Squad did, though this turned out to not be such a great idea, since Gaara’s next course of action was to attack the entire Ino Squad as opposed to just Shikamaru. In their frenzy to get away from the crazy sand shapes, they ended up dropping a large percentage of the sheets, and Temari’s subsequent gust of wind (aimed at Tenten’s general direction) made sure that anyone who had held onto their sheets let go of them as well. Unfortunately, this also meant that all of the fruits which had been fastened to Gaara’s gourd ended up spilling out and into the wind, something which happened to Tenten’s stolen goods as well. Choji tried to repair the mistake by jumping in his signature ball-roll attack, but the wind was too strong even for him, and so he ended up being dragged in an upward draft by it, and subsequently squashing all the fruits and the sheets against the ground, resulting in a very dirty pile of goo-covered bed-sheets with an extra layer of sand mush, which were now sprawled atop the hokage mountain.

As everyone started making it to the top of the mountain, it was amusing how each person that did stopped dead in their tracks and stared in horror at the pile of goo and bedsheets that was their day’s hard work.

By the time that Ino (who was carrying Makoto on her back) made it, she screeched in horror in a tone so loud that probably the entire village heard. And that was when, to their collective horror, the real Kakashi Hatake appeared.

Kakashi eyed the clan heads in the room, all of whom had annoyed expressions plastered upon their faces. Privately, he thought that the irked looks they were shooting him were nearly as hilarious as the ones that their children had.

Yes, all of them were deliciously annoyed… save for one person, Kakashi noted peevishly. On the other side of the table, Shikaku Nara for some reason looked delighted instead. He was shooting Kakashi an appreciative sort of look, as though impressed with his idea for the exam… which only served to make Kakashi uncomfortable. Frankly, he was used to people considering his modus operandi quirky and odd. They didn’t understand why he was doing seemingly random and whimsical things until long after the fact – if at all – and were generally infuriated and exasperated with him regardless of the outcome, just as Kakashi had planned on them to be. That’s how he liked it, setting people off balance was as much a part of him as his mask, and he rejoiced in it. However, the look Shikaku was now giving him was neither exasperated nor infuriated. Nay, it didn’t even suggest that he was wondering where on earth Kakashi had gotten his insane, chaotic ideas from! Rather it was a look of appreciation, as though he’d suddenly discovered that Kakashi was in fact a kindred tactician, as though Shikaku considered his strategy for organizing the second task interesting ; a study in subtlety and emotional layers – not some crazy mess of a plan, concocted haphazardly and in the span of five minutes, with the sole objective of getting the genin to do his groceries for him. 

…well, to be fair, Shikaku would be right in thinking that.

Most people in the village would’ve probably felt flattered by the Nara’s assessment –  it was sort of a compliment, after all – but Kakashi just felt exposed in an unsettling sort of way. He liked keeping people on their toes, watching from a distance as they traipsed about, trying to decipher his unconventional behavior and failing spectacularly at it. He knew from that one look however that Shikaku Nara would likely see right through him, and might even try to actually seek him out after this. God forbid, that would be… he’d rather avoid the man’s knowing gaze, thank you very much. ‘And why not do so?’ Kakashi thought to himself. He had already shared all his memories after all. He was no longer needed. 

“Ma… Looks like my job here is done, ne?” he drawled happily into the silence, avoiding the Nara’s eyes. And with those words, Kakashi hightailed it out of there.

Later that day, Sakura had been walking home when she spotted a few kids trying to climb a tree by the park. It was the same place where the pageant had taken place. Sakura stopped walking to watch them, lost in memories, until she noticed that on top of the tree, there was a nest. Three little crow chicks were chirping within, all three appearing scared to death as they watched a laughing boy climb higher and higher. The crow parents were nowhere in sight and it was clear that whatever might happen once the boy reached the nest, it wouldn’t be good for the chicks. Two of the baby crows took flight, but one was unable to, chirping helplessly in face of its destiny. Sakura didn’t wait around any longer. Sure it was cliche, but she would save the bird. And so she advanced toward the boy and, once she’d made it to the tree, ignored the shouting children waiting at the bottom and began her ascent. She bypassed the climbing boy easily, advancing onward until she’d made it to the nest. She knew that taking the little crow chick away from it wouldn’t be the brightest idea, but neither was leaving it there. Even if she told the boy to go away, he might come back later out of spite. 

“Hey,” she said softly. The poor crow had a broken wing that was caked in blood. So that was why he couldn’t fly… “Hey, little guy,” Sakura whispered. “Shhhh…” The poor crow was trying weakly to flee, but Sakura kept him secure between her palms. He was so small and frail, she felt protective of him, more so now that she had a summoning contract with crows. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured. “I’ll get you back to your parents. Don’t you worry about anything.” 

Giving the gaping boy a last, glacial look, she carefully clutched the little crow to her heart and descended from the tree.

A few minutes later, she’d made it to her home. Carefully, Sakura applied a healing salve to his wound and petted him soothingly. She didn’t know what else she was supposed to do so she summoned Shi-chan to ask for his counsel. Shi-chan insisted that they needed his master’s input. Five minutes later, Itachi was standing in her bathroom and helping her dress the wing injury, working silently to heal the poor crow. Sakura watched him apprehensively, though there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the crow would heal well. The situation was oddly reminiscent, Sakura mused, of when they’d rescued Tora what seemed like ages ago. Finally, Itachi straightened and started cleaning up their makeshift workstation.

“So?” Sakura questioned quietly, nodding toward the little crow.

“She’ll be fine,” Itachi replied.

“She?” 

Itachi nodded, his lip quirking up slightly. 

“Whoops!” Sakura blushed, feeling sheepish. “So the crow wasn’t, in fact, a ‘little guy,’ huh?”

Itachi nodded his head absently, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. They continued cleaning everything up in silence, until Itachi stopped suddenly.

“Sakura.” His tone was serious, more so than what she had heard in a long while.

Sakura turned around, worried that something had happened to the crow chick, but she found Itachi looking at her instead. “Yes?”

“I’m leaving,” he said softly.

For a moment, Sakura just blinked dumbly at him. “Wh-what?”

“I’m leaving,” Itachi repeated.

“Out of the village? Now? But… but you’ll come back, right?”

Itachi looked away, out of the window. “I don’t know.” He sighed. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?!”

He sighed again. “I won’t be able to train you henceforth. I’m so sorry…”

“But, but… that’s not why I’m so shaken!” Sakura exclaimed. “Don’t you get it? You’re my friend. You can’t just leave!”

“It’s not by choice,” he admitted.

“But then you’ll come back.”

Itachi couldn’t meet her eyes. He knew that in a matter of weeks the invasion would be underway. It was very possible that his current mission wouldn’t be finished by then. And if they were especially unlucky, the circumstances of the invasion might start a war… in which case, he might be required at the front lines of either side and in any case, no doubt far away from Sakura. 

Itachi frowned. 

“You’ll come back,” Sakura repeated. “Right?” 

“I will try,” he told her earnestly. “I will try…” But he couldn’t promise her a damn thing. Itachi stared at his white knuckles and thought of all the things he always did wrong.

“Ita-kun…” Sakura sighed.  “This whole thing… it sounds kinda serious. Not like a normal mission.” She frowned. “Is it because of that thing Shi-chan told me about? That danger looms on the horizon, or something like that?”

Itachi frowned. “He told you that?”

“Yeah.”

Itachi sighed.

“Is it true?” Sakura pressed.

Itachi was quiet for the longest time. “Just be careful, Sakura.”

There was no need to be a rocket scientist to know what that meant. Shi-chan had been right. But in that case… Sakura frowned. “And what about you? Is that why you’re leaving? To do some super secret recon mission?”

Itachi chuckled softly. “Something like that. I’ll leave Karasu to monitor the situation here, and–” He was about to add something else, but suddenly he broke out into a horrible coughing fit. At first, Sakura wasn’t too worried; she simply patted his back. But the coughing fit just wouldn’t stop, becoming harsher and harsher, until it started to sound scary. Terrified, Sakura filled the rinsing glass with water in hopes that it might help, but when she turned to give it to Itachi, she was shocked at the sight of blood. It was red and terrifying, bits of it dripping over his chin and a larger amount splattered over the white tiles of the bathroom. For a moment, Sakura froze. And that was when it happened – something was in Itachi’s mouth. It was large, dark, and caked in blood. After more of that horrible coughing, he spat it out. The mortifying thing landed wetly on the bathroom tiles.

As abruptly as it had started, Itachi’s coughing fit stopped. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking them until he could see again. Then they landed on the offending thing that had come out of his mouth and went wide. He and Sakura exchanged glances, both lost on what to do.

“What… what is that thing?” Sakura asked, drawing nearer to it.

Itachi shook his head, looking faint. “It looks like some sort of plant…”

Plant would be a kind way to put it. It had red, blood-caked spikes poking out of its stem, thin and lethal-like needles about the size of Sakura’s pinkie finger. To top it off there were some roughly-textured leaves and one lone, purple flower which crowned the whole thing, wet with grime and mucus and blood like the rest of it, and ugly as hell. Sakura stared at it in horror.

“Ita-kun,” she said faintly. “I think you have a plant growing inside of you.”

Itachi, who had gone as pale as the dead, nodded slowly. “I think so too.”

Chapter 17: Of Missives and Memories

Summary:

The hokage finally gets his act together, Kakashi pays the Academy another visit and Sakura writes a letter.

Notes:

Surprise...!

 

 

At exactly five in the morning the next day, Sakura stood by the gates of the village, a bento clutched in her hand. Tetsuya was leaving today. 

It was dark out still and the guards had given her odd looks, but she’d stood her ground. After ten minutes of waiting, she had sat down however. Fifteen minutes more and she was cross-legged upon the ground, quipao dress be damned. It was the first time she had worn it in ages, but Sakura felt like the occasion warranted it. Tetsuya was leaving. 

As she sat there, she noticed that her legs had gotten taned. Huh. Maybe training truly had some advantages after all… Twenty minutes more had Sakura scrutinising the bento. She’d been sleepy when she’d made it and she was worried that it hadn’t turned out well. Truth be told, she was a horrendous cook—one that couldn’t make any complicated dish if her life depended on it, though Sakura had tried (more than once). Fortunately, sushi wasn’t that hard as long as one stuck to the basic things, so she’d gone with that. But just in case, Sakura had added some dango she’d bought at Shiemi-oba-san’s stall. She knew those, at least, Itachi would appreciate it.

For what felt like the tenth timein a row, Sakura sighed, rubbing her hands over her legs to keep warm. She’d wrapped the dango in a red linen cloth with white dots on it and now she was starting to regret it. The old cloth was one of the first things she’d ever woven that had turned out remotely usable, though Ino had made fun of it because she’d said it looked like a poisonous mushroom. Sakura had stubbornly wrapped her bento in it everyday anyway, and eventually Ino had admitted that she wouldn’t be Sakura if she didn’t have her unfashionable mushroom bento wrapper, and had even gone as far as to claim that she could use it to spot an enemy ninja masquerading as her. But that had been a long time ago, and she’d even surprised herself when she’d taken this bento-wrapper again… but it had just felt right.

Now though, Sakura was second-guessing her decision to take it. She wondered whether Ita-kun would think it looked like an ugly mushroom too. Then it occurred to her that he might lose it and she felt dread at the notion. It may sound stupid, but she was really fond of her mushroom wrapper… 

Checking the time, she realized that it must’ve been forty minutes by then and Sakura was starting to worry. She hadn’t actually told Itachi she’d wait for him… 

It suddenly dawned on her that he might not even leave through the main gate, and what then?

Nervously, she flipped through the hand signs of the summoning jutsu.

“Yes?” Shi-chan asked upon appearing.

Sakura explained her problem to him.

“My human has left already, caw.”

Sakura gasped, hurt. “But he didn’t say goodbye to me!”

The crow regarded her steadily for a few seconds. “My human didn’t say goodbye to anyone, caw.”

Sakura blinked, disbelieving. She hadn’t even considered that possibility. It did make her feel a little better, but only marginally so, because now she was even more worried about Tetsuya. Why hadn’t he said goodbye to anyone else? Didn’t he have friends? Judging by what he had told her of his family in passing, Sakura had gathered that maybe they weren’t the most pleasant sort, but how bad was his relationship with them if he didn’t even say goodbye before leaving on super dangerous missions? 

She bit her lip, feeling her heart reach out to him. Ita-kun, who was so smart, kind, talented, patient, generous, handsome—ahem. Anyway… someone like that, Sakura figured, ought to have thousands of friends and admirers everywhere. Because who wouldn’t want to hang out with such an amazing person? 

But then, he never talked about the other people in his life. Besides for the occasional mention of his father, he had never said anything remotely approaching personal territory. It was then that Sakura realized — she didn’t know anything at all about his life. Friends, girlfriends, exes—heck, even his genin team!— he’d never mentioned any of those at all.  And yet… now she knew one thing: he hadn’t said goodbye, not to a single one of them. 

It began to dawn on her that maybe he hung out with her so much because he was lonely. Because most older teenagers, Sakura knew, usually didn’t care to hang out with thirteen-year olds.

“Caw. Sakura-hime. You look sad, caw. Rest assured that my human will be chastised for this oversight. He will not keep you waiting again.”

“No, no, don’t do that—! ...wait.” Sakura looked at the crow oddly. “Did you just call me ‘hime’? Shi-chan what the heck!?”

Shi-chan inspected his wing with interest. 

The answer was obvious. Sakura blushed.

“Shi-chan, you can’t! That’s so embarrassing!”

“Caw. I call my other human ‘dono’.”

“Wait, seriously?” The crow nodded. Sakura shook her head. “Never mind. Just call me Sakura—please, that honorific is completely unnecessary!”

Shi-chan cocked his head. “But you’re smiling now.”

“Eh-?!”

“Caw. Yes. Before you were sad, now you’re smiling. Yes, yes. Caw. “I think I’ll keep it, Sakura-hime.”

Sakura covered her flaming face. “Shi-chan…” 

The crow began to clean his wing again, pretending not to listen. Sakura sighed and stood up. “Well, I guess I’ve been waiting out here for nothing, huh? Sorry to have bothered you, Shi-chan. Give Ita-kun my regards, will you?”

“Caw, caw. A lecture on manners is what I’ll give him!”

Sakura giggled. “Really, Shi-chan. You don’t have to. He didn’t even know I’d made him a bento or anything…”

“So the human food is for my human, caw?”

“Oh, this?” she raised the bento. “Yeah. It is… well, was, I guess. I’ll eat it instead, I suppose.”

“There’s no need, caw! I shall bring it to him, by my title as harbinger of death!”

Sakura blinked at him. “Err… Shi-chan, are you sure?”

He puffed out his chest. “And why wouldn’t I be, hime?”

“Sakura-chan!” she corrected, flustered. “And because it’s almost larger than you, duh!”

“Do not concern yourself about the logistics, caw. I shall deliver this human food without a hitch.”

Sakura eyed Shi-chan dubiously. “Well, be careful, alright? And wait, let me write a note for Ita-kun real quick.”

She ruffled through her pouch and found a pen. After some more searching, she came up with one of the menus belonging to Betsubara. Not ideal by any means, but it would have to do.

Sakura sighed. So… she had to write a note. Suddenly, she recalled the short little poem Kakashi had scrawled on an old receipt for her.

Soup cheers me up.

Always works, just like that.

But please return this to the cook,

Teuchi has a mean right hook.

It was very dear to her heart and just the thing she wanted to be able to send Itachi too. Something that would make him smile just by thinking of it. But Sakura knew that she was no poet. She wasn’t even particularly good with words—that had always been Ino. But then, Itachi might die on this mission! Plus he was sick and no one else had said goodbye to him… so she absolutely  had to do this.

Hesitantly, Sakura placed the pen upon the menu. Chewing on her lip, she thought about what to write.

Ita-kun, she began, but crossed it out immediately. He already knew it was for him, stupid! But on the other hand, he had liked it when she’d called him that, so Sakura wrote the same address again. Then, she tried to come up with something else to say— that she would miss him, that he was loved, or maybe that he shouldn’t feel alone, but anything she could come up with sounded too corny or like she was a complete mother hen. 

Never before had the prospect of writing a small note seemed so hopeless. She wanted to play it cool, though honestly, she had no experience with cool. That was more Sasuke’s thing… or sensei’s, she thought with a blush. And wasn’t that an idea?

What would Kakashi-sensei write? 

After pondering it for a bit, Sakura came to the conclusion that the man would surely jot down something completely nonsensical and irrelevant to the actual message on a stupid old receipt again. But she also knew that she’d cherish his words anyway, because the fact that he had bothered to write something in the first place was the true message. It was a roundabout way to show that he cared, even if he never actually would say something like that. Yes. That sounded like Kakashi-sensei. 

Next to her, Shi-chan cawed impatiently.

“Are you done yet?”

“Yes, yes, just a minute!”

“Caw! But you’re not even writing anything, Sakura-hime!”

“Ugh! Will you stop calling me that!” 

In that moment, Sakura knew exactly what she was going to write:

Ita-kun:

Tell your stupid crow to stop calling me hime or I’ll throw a chair at him. 

Regards,

-S

Then, because she just couldn’t resist:

PS. Stay safe!!!

And with that, it was done. Hastily, Sakura placed the note inside the bento, then gave it to Shi-chan. The crow nipped at her ear affectionately, then gingerly took the loin cloth with his beak and, after one last glance in her direction, rose into the air. 

On her part, Sakura was overcome by an odd feeling of emptiness as she watched him soar over the fields, glide through the wind and over the trees and people, far across the forest until he reached Itachi. Would he reach Itachi? 

Slowly, as Shi-chan’s form became smaller and smaller in the distance, the sun began to rise in the horizon, dusting the fields in gold. Specks of green replaced darkness and morning dew glistened through the grass. Farther still was the shape of Shi-chan, getting smaller and smaller by the second, the bento no longer distinguishable from his silhouette. Sakura sighed. Would Itachi read the note within? Would he smile when he did?

The sky around Shi-chan was now orange, like an oriental rug sprinkled in pink clouds, smooth as satin in the sunrise. They moved slowly with the wind, engulfing the miniscule shape of one lone crow so it was smaller, smaller and then gone, like a a good book that ends too soon. 

Itachi was gone.

---

The night he left, she didn’t sleep a wink. The gruesome image of the plant that had come out of his mind wouldn’t leave her head.

After the day of Itachi’s departure, Sakura was forced to change her routine once again. She now had her early mornings free, which technically meant that she didn’t need to get up at four in the morning to train anymore, but she continued to do it anyway. After both Shi-chan heavily hinting that something big was going to happen soon and now Itachi’s warning to be careful, there was no way that she wouldn’t at least try to prepare for whatever danger awaited her. 

Even if she had to do it on her own. 

Sakura knew that practicing by herself wasn’t nearly the same as being trained by Ita-kun, yet she had to at least try.

But the days and weeks following Itachi’s departure turned out to be even harder than the ones preceding it. As soon as he left, Sakura found herself having horrible  nightmares almost every night without fail. They all featured Orochimaru in some shape or form, and sometimes Anko as well. Most of them, however, centered around the horrible things she’d seen when she’d looked into Orochimaru’s yellow eyes, her very many deaths, the expression of utter bloodthirst in his eyes, his fingers as they wrapped around her throat. 

And it made Sakura desperate. She could barely catch any sleep at all, and when she did, it was fitful and not nearly enough. 

But how could it be that she’d slept like a baby the nights following the encounter with Orochimaru, and now all of a sudden she was getting nightmares? Had Ita-kun done something to make them go away? It was the only explanation that made sense to her, but she found that she wasn’t sure what to make of it… If it truly was the case, it was a very thoughtful (and helpful) gesture… but also kind of creepy. When Sakura imagined Itachi sneaking into her room at night to do some jutsu to make her nightmares go away, she always felt it was such a ridiculous thought that she ended up dismissing it almost immediately. Of course he didn’t sneak into her room at night. What the hell.

Who knew? Perhaps the sight of the terrifying plant was what had triggered the nightmares. The mind works in odd ways, Sakura knew, and Itachi’s plant certainly feautured in more that one of her dreams.

Actually, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. It was very often that her nightmares would transition into some rendition of the horrible, vine-like thing, which would often in turn manifest as a shape-shifting snake that coiled around her tighter and tighter. When she was about to asphyxiate, that’s when she woke up. Without fail. Every single night.

Sometimes, Sakura felt like she was constantly running from the snake, from the vines, but there was no place to hide and no place to run, for the snake was the entire world.

Thankfully, her nightmares were just that – nightmares. Yes, they woke her up without fail at the latest by the early hours of the morning, but it could be worse.

Sakura was one of those people who believed in fate, or well, if not fate, she believed that everything happened for a reason. She was certain that if she always woke up so early, then it must be because she was supposed to train at that time. She didn’t believe in god, and yet sometimes she felt like some higher entity out there was nudging her along, was giving her hints, easing her into the path that would most help her. It was trying to prepare her for what was to come.

So she decided not to set her alarm clock, and if she woke up in the early morning, to take it as a sign that she was supposed to train. This happened to become the norm for her, and so Sakura forced herself to, day after day, battle against her exhaustion and throw herself into training as much as her other obligations allowed it.

At first, she simply settled on repeating every kata Itachi had taught her (under water), as well as continuous series of kicks, punches and the other drills he’d made her do. But she quickly realized that none of it would be enough to prepare her. Because those were, well, drills. They couldn’t prepare her for whatever shitshow was in the works. No, what Sakura needed was human opponents. But the problem was, where could she get them?

Well, the answer turned out to be Academy children. And crows… yes, you read that right.

As it turned out, Academy children were all very eager to brag about beating a genin, so it wasn’t hard to convince them to “duel” her. Sakura would male many of the kids attack her at once, since otherwise it truly wasn’t fair, as many of them were much younger than her. With the disparity in numbers, the training did work out rather well for her. Of course, she couldn’t kick the kids with all her strength, but Sakura was certain she was improving a lot thanks to them. There were so many of the quick little buggers attacking her at once, that it truly required amazing concentration to be able to fend them all off simultaneously. Sakura learned that incapacitating an opponent without critically injuring them could be a lot harder than simply, say, stabbing them.

The spars with the academy kids forced her to practice awareness and evasion more than anything, but also blocks and even throwing manoeuvres, wrist twists and so forth.

But Academy children weren’t constant in the way Sakura was. Some days, they grew tired of training with her or simply didn’t feel like getting up earlier just to get the chance to fight a genin. There were many of them, yes, but on some days Sakura was alone. That was where the crows came in. On those days, she would summon Shi-chan and leave her training for the day in his capable wings. Shi-chan, on his part, would often call upon flocks of crows, all of whom would attack Sakura from all angles. Sakura could throw as many wooden shuriken at them as she wanted, their ability to dodge was like nothing she’d ever seen before.

Most amazingly was something which Shi-chan had explained were “crow clones”. From what he had said, it appeared to be a jutsu that Itachi had come up with, but Sakura couldn’t fathom how it might work. But case in point: if many crows combined together, they were able to perform a transformation jutsu that, as far as Sakura could see, was no weaker than any of Naruto’s shadow clones. And so, Shi-chan and the other crows would often adopt the forms of humans and train with Sakura that way – and in this case, she knew that she could go all out with her hits without fear of hurting them. In fact, she was encouraged to punch with all her strength, for otherwise, there was no way Sakura would ever be able to dispel the transformation.

---

Kakashi had been standing before the memorial stone, minding his own business, when a woman approached him. As was his custom when annoying people (or flies) bothered him, he defaulted to the ‘ignore it until it goes away’ strategy.

The woman did not go away. She hovered at the outskirts of his peripheral vision, possibly in some misguided attempt to give him ‘space’. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Kakashi couldn’t concentrate unless alone, and she would not leave. She probably thought she was being courteous, though he was getting more annoyed by the second. Kakashi decided to resort to plan B, aka ‘ignore some more’. In such a fashion, they stood around for what he estimated to be over twenty minutes, until finally Kakashi had had enough. Turning as though he had just noticed the woman, he fake-smiled and enunciated: “Can I help you?”

When their eyes met, Kakashi’s anger was dampened by his surprise. She was Río’s spitting image. Great. More family drama for him. Another part of his brain couldn’t help but think that it was no wonder Inoichi had freaked out. Minus the hair color and the age, this woman looked so much like Rio that the obvious relation was indisputable – especially the eyes were very similar.

However, he could understand why to an outsider, Inoichi’s sudden freak out over a random stranger might’ve seemed like an odd coincidence and not worth researching beyond the initial paternity test. Of course, Kakashi had insider knowledge. Just by looking at this woman he could tell what this was going to be about. And… shit. She didn’t look like a pushover either.
The woman’s face was world-wary in an odd way, her hair brown, though her age showed in the form of with white strands peaking out here and there. Her eyes were the exact same as Río’s. There was something cat-like about the keen gaze, underlined by the angular shape of her jaw. Stress lines marred her brow, accentuated by chalky pale skin.

“Help me?” she asked softly. “Yes. I do believe you can. At least, I hope so.”

Oh, no. They were not going there. Kakahi quickly planned his escape route.

“Ah, sorry. Something’s come up. I have to leave, see.”

He made to do just that, but she was quicker. Boldly, the woman stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Judging by your reaction, I can tell that you know what this is about,” she said seriously. “I’m Chihiro. Yamanaka Chihiro… Ino and… Inoue’s mother.” 

Río’s birth mother.

He had already known this at a glance, but to hear her confirm it… 

“Ah, well yes. My dear pupil Sakura-chan is friends with your daughter,” he said, pretending to be oblivious. “If you want to inquire about Ino’s performance as a genin, you’d have to ask Asuma though.”

“Hatake-san! Don’t play stupid with me,” Chihiro said, eyes narrowed to slits. And damn, even their voices sounded similar. 

“Ma, now why would I do that?”

Chihiro’s teeth gritted. “Listen to me,” she snapped, stepping into his space aggressively. “I believed my daughter dead for over a decade. I mourned her passing. I had three miscarriages before I was able to have another child. Her loss was the harshest blow of my life, and it took me so long – so. long. – until I was able to move on. And then, after almost two decades, she just appears out of nowhere, at my husband’s workplace, with you in tow. And you expect me not to do anything about it?!”

Kakashi fought not to hunch into himself. “Please, Yamanaka-san, calm down–”

“Calm down? Calm down?! Now listen here, boy! You try having something that precious taken away from you and then waved in front of your face like, like some sick joke–”

“I can’t help you,” he interrupted strongly, surprising even himself.

“What do you mean you can’t help me?!”  Chihiro fired back. “You were there! She came in with you! You knew something and she told you to keep quiet, you, you lying, conniving little–”  

“Yamana–”

“I’ve watched my husband’s memories, I fucking saw it!” she screeched. “How many times do you think we’ve reviewed yesterday’s memory! That was my daughter,” Chihiro’s voice cracked, as a tear began to slide down her cheek. “That was, that was my Inoue. And she… she knew it too. She knew it, and she told you to keep quiet, didn’t she? She told you. I saw it in her eyes, in the way she stared at Inoichi like she’d seen a ghost… she tried to hide it, but… I know what I saw.”

 Kakashi didn’t reply. Because, what could he say to that?

“Hatake-san, please,” Chihiro pleaded. “Please. I’m begging you. Please help me. I know you can. I know it. You have to help me get my daughter back.”

Kakashi closed his eyes. “I… I can’t.”

“Bullshit.” Chihiro’s mood switched to furious again. “You damn well know that you can! You know something, so talk!” Enraged, she shoved his chest. “Talk damnit! Who took her?! Who was it?! Was it Shimura?! TELL ME!”

Reaching out, Kakashi gripped the woman’s shoulders with everything he had. “Listen to me, Yamanaka-san.” The woman’s cries stopped. “I can’t.  I can’t. But once the exams are over, I will do my damndest to help you. Do you understand? Once the exams are over.”

Chihiro faltered. “So she really is a ninja, isn’t she? You wouldn’t deny me this otherwise.”

Kakashi’s silence was answer enough.

“Do you think… do you think I’m an idiot, Hatake-san?” Chihiro continued. “Because I’m not. I can see the political undercurrents just as well as you. I know who Danzo Shimura is.”

“But then–” 

“It doesn’t matter. If I have to crush that old man I will do it.”

“Yamanaka-san,” Kakashi said quietly. “I can neither confirm nor deny Shimura Danzo’s involvement… but. Listen to me. You don’t want to mess with him. He’s more dangerous than you know.”

“Hmmm.” Chihiro turned, stepping away from him to stare at the memorial stone. “Did you know, Hatake-san, that before marrying my husband, I was clanless?” Confused, Kakashi shook his head mutely. “Inoichi didn’t exactly pick me for my lineage. In fact, his clan elders gave him hell over his choice to court me, but...  stubborn man that he is, he would have none of it. Even back then, my husband saw something in me – poor, immigrant little me.
“He once told me that I’d have made an amazing ninja if I’d been born into a clan, that I had the right instincts, the right everything.” She laughed self-deprecatingly. “But that wasn’t enough. The elders saw a weakness and pounced. Their argument was that they’d never allow a civilian to marry their clan heir – and that was final. Not even Inoichi could  argue with that, not with the rest of the clan backing them. So do you know what I did, Hatake-san? I asked him to teach me his clan jutsu, to teach me all the little things that you teach your students, only I was a decade older. Was it illegal? Sure. Did I give a damn? No.
“At the age of twenty-two, I began to train, and train and train until I deemed myself ready. I applied for the genin test. I passed it. There could still have been some doubts whether I was qualified, so I took the chunin exams next and I bloody well passed them too – on my first try. 

“The elders never even stood a chance. The rest of the clan, romantics that they are, ate my story up, respected how I was able to learn their jutsu so proficiently despite all the setbacks. I hold the record for oldest civilian to graduate at that age and only civilian woman over twenty to make chunin. It wasn’t easy but it sure as hell was worth it – and all of that I did so I could marry the love of my life. 

“But do you know what? If the love I feel for my husband is large, the love I feel for my daughters cannot even compare. Do you understand?” She turned to face him, green eyes blazing. “Stand in my way to Inoue and see what happens. I fucking dare you.”

Kakashi was struck speechless by that declaration. “I…”

“Now, Hatake-san, that we’ve established you won’t underestimate me, let me be plain,” Chihiro continued. “My husband and I aren’t blind to Danzo’s dealings. We know that the Root agents must be coming from somewhere and that somewhere isn’t the usual channels. However, all that changes from the very moment a child from our clan became involved, the moment my daughter became involved. 

“I am not blind to our current political situation, but I don’t care. I want to know what position my daughter holds in Root that she would be missed so much as to cause a fuss, because let me tell you, there is none! She would be twenty-five by now. Two decades of service is more than enough! You of all people should know! Your time totals to the same, doesn’t it? But she spent it in Root. Root, Hatake-san. Worse yet: Inoue was taken in the midst of the second shinobi war.

“Inoichi has treated enough headcases from Root to give me a clear picture of just how much those agents were put through during the war. Inoue was taken shortly before the height of it. Suppossing training and conditioning to take from one to two years, if that, then she would’ve been deployed at the very worst of it. Any sane human being would let her go.”

“Danzo Shimura–”

“Hatake-san. Let me be clear: I will see her leaving that blasted organization or die trying.”

Kakashi sighed, his shoulders hunching. “Your resolve is admirable, but Chihiro-san… your daughter may not even remember you. If she’s twenty-five then she’s still in her prime and… let me be clear: if she was involved with Root, then there is no way Danzo would let her leave.”

“Danzo-san has allowed some of his older agents to retire,” Chihiro countered. “Inoichi is usually the one to treat them. I have met some myself. The man who raised the Yuhi’s remaining clan members is one of them. The owner of the tea house in Pacify Street is another. There are more than you think.”

Kakashi frowned. He didn’t think Rio’s retirement was possible, but if this conversation had convinced him of anything, then that was never to underestimate an enraged Yamanaka Chihiro.

“Chihiro-san, I have spoken to the woman you claim is your daughter for only a little,” he revealed at last, finally giving in. “She seemed like a good person and my intuition is usually right about these things, but as I said, we have barely interacted at all. She was… different from what most Root agents act like. More human. More… Less… I can’t explain. My point is, she also appeared to be… firmly set in her beliefs. Your help may not be welcomed by her.”

“I don’t care,” Chihiro said softly. “I will do anything I have to for my daughter, even if she fights me tooth and nail each step of the way.”

Kakashi nodded slowly. “You should count on it,” he cautioned. 

There was a long silence. Chihiro deflated.

“I know, Hatake-san. And if I didn’t believe her to be brainwashed by a military cult, then I would let this go. She is an adult, after all. Her own person. But… as it is, I want to make sure she has a choice.”

The words ‘shinobi are tools and tools never get to choose how they are wielded’ were on the tip of his tongue. Kakashi forced himself to swallow them. This wasn’t the time or place for that. However…

After some mental struggle, he reached a decision. “I will be busy in the coming days, but after all of this is over, come find me if you need help.” He lowered his voice. “I recommend biding your time if you intend to move against Danzo.”

Chihiro nodded, her eyes flitting about. “I will. Currently I’m looking for proof that she was kidnapped by him. I was hoping you’d know something.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

Kakashi frowned. “Didn’t you already investigate this back then?”

“Well of course we did!” Chihiro exclaimed, then lowered her voice again. “However, our angle was completely different. We thought she’d been kidnapped by an outsider, we thought Iwa was responsible. We never looked for the kidnapper within the walls of this village.”

Kakashi paused. “Any trail that might’ve been left would be quite cold at this point.”

“I am aware.”

“If Danzo catches wind of your inquiries, you’ll be in trouble.”

“I know that as well. Why do you think I’m here and not my husband? Or both of us? We’re trying to keep a low profile.”

Good, Kakashi thought. Somehow, he already liked this woman. He could respect someone who fought tooth and nail for their precious people. The will of fire was strong in her. 

Even so… if someone from Root targeted her, she’d be done for. Civilian miraculously turned-chunin or no, she’d be outclassed. Most Root agents were stronger than the average ANBU. He didn’t think Rio would allow her own mother to be harmed if she knew, but he wouldn’t put it past Danzo to off Chihiro on the sly, with the same lack of compunctions he must have to kidnap all those children he now called soldiers.

 

Danzo was always on the look-out for fresh talent, had spies everyone, likely even in the Academy. And such a person…  one of Danzo’s spies must have decided to take Inoue. 

He couldn’t imagine what it must’ve felt like. To get kidnapped, to have everything taken away, even your own identity. Kakashi wondered whether she had fought it, and if so, he wondered how long she’d lasted. He wondered how long it had taken her to drown, to let Danzo’s roots drag her under. For her sake, he hoped her suffering had been brief. But one thing was clear: at some point, Inoue had died and out of her ashes, Río had resurfaced.

---

Somewhere far away, Itachi Uchiha sat upon the edge of a windowsill in a shabby inn. He was resting his head upon one of his knees, his forehead brushing against the cool windowpane as he peered through it into the darkness. There was a deep melancholy in his black eyes, but only someone very well versed in his mannerisms would’ve picked up on it.

His Akatsuki partner, Hoshigaki Kisame, might’ve been the person to do so, but he was too preoccupied sharpening his weapons at the moment.

“Pah!” Kisame grumbled.  “Who’d have thought the mission would be this easy, ne, Itachi-san? We got this one done in under an hour. All that waiting, for one measly hour…”

Itachi reluctantly turned toward his partner.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, Kisame.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Kisame grumbled. “But I was looking forward to a good work out…” 

Itachi shrugged. “Hn.” 

He might’ve allowed for some complications to arise, if only to appease Kisame’s moods, but his lung condition made him reluctant to expend unnecessary energy. Just as he was about to close the window and go to sleep, Shi– Karasu, he reminded himself (he refused to have Kisame hear him call his summon ‘Shi-chan’) came fluttering into the room.

Itachi nearly gaped when he realized that Shi– Karasu, damn it – was carrying something. A bento. He was carrying a bento. Itachi felt an odd, guiddy sensation in his gut as he stared at it. Sakura…  

Gingerly, he extended his hands, grasping the package lightly. It came enveloped in an odd-looking cloth… the pattern reminded him of a mushroom drawn by a preschooler. It made him smile.

“Thank you, Shi…” Ugh. Damn it all.

“I thought his name was ‘Karasu’?” Kisame piped up behind him.

Itachi almost jumped. Thankfully, he managed to turn around like a normal person instead. 

And indeed, his partner was now staring at him curiously.

“I… changed my mind about the name,” Itachi said with a poker face.

“Did you now? Well, I like the new one better,” Kisame decided, nodding to himself. “Shi, huh? Yes, it’s taboo, has an ominous ring to it. Hmm… a definite improvement from ‘Karasu’, definitely.”

“...thank you.”

Itachi wondered what Kisame would say if he ever found out that a thirteen-year-old had come up with the idea. The thought made him smirk. He hid it by turning toward…  Shi, he supposed, (though he still refused to add the chan, thank you very much) and gave his summon a respectful nod.

“Thank you for the hard work, Shi.”

Shi-chan flapped his wings impetuously, cawed once and then promptly fell asleep on Itachi’s lap. Itachi chuckled softly and stroked the crow’s feathery head, then got up and gently placed him on his bed. Once that was done, Itachi went back to his perch on the windowsill, hoping that Kisame would ignore him, and fixed his attention upon Sakura’s bento. He wanted to have this moment to himself.

Naturally, Kisame just had to start staring at him without blinking in that unnerving way of his at that very second.

Itachi suppressed a scowl. It’d be suspicious if he left the room in order to open the bento… 

Sighing inwardly, he resigned himself to being scrutinized and proceeded to start unwrapping the knot that the odd mushroom-cloth was tied into when– 

“Is that from a girl?” came Kisame’s incredulous voice from across the room.

Annoyed, Itachi stopped what he was doing and turned to very pointedly not glare at him.

“None of your business.”

Of course, Kisame didn’t agree with that assessment and very much made it his business. He got up and stepped closer, gleefully intoning:

 “Well, well, well… what do we have here, Itachi-san?” –  Itachi suppressed the urge to roll his eyes –  “looks like the big, bad Uchiha Itachi found himself a girlfriend… who would’ve thought we’d see the day…”

Itachi’s definitely-not-a-death-glare definitely did not intensify. 

On his part, Kisame seemed to be aware of his efforts not to chuck a shuriken at him – and also appeared to find them deeply amusing.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Itachi-san?” 

“That it’s still none of your business.”

Kisame cracked a grin, leaning in to inspect the mushroom cloth. “Hilarious! Does the chit even know who you are?”

Itachi’s expression darkened. 

“Itachi-san?”

“Does it matter?” he snapped coldly.

Kisame frowned, stepping back and becoming serious again. There was a silence.

“I suppose it doesn’t, does it.”

“No.”

Itachi frowned back at him and, turning away, sagged against the windowpane. He waited until he heard the sounds of Kisame crossing the room and then resuming his weapon sharpening. Then and only then did Itachi turn back toward the bento, a frown tugging at his lip.

Gingerly, he pried the little box open. The food inside was clearly home-made (except for what were no doubt Shiemi-san’s delicious dango) but it had become sort of stale, sadly. He should’ve expected it; Itachi imagined it must have been a long flight from fire country to lightning, and he could certainly not begrudge Shi or Sakura for lack of trying. He would still eat everything, he decided.

Then he spotted the note. Curious, he inspected it. It had some sort of restaurant menu printed on the back… odd. Had Sakura written this in a hurry? Ever so carefully, he unfolded it. Her hand-writing was neat though, so maybe not that much of a hurry? Perhaps she hadn’t been home when she’d written it? He’d have to ask Shi about it… 

Curiously, Itachi scanned the short message.

 

Ita-kun:

Tell your stupid crow to stop calling me hime or I’ll throw a chair at him. 

Regards,

-S

PS. Stay safe!!!

 

Itachi lowered the note and let his hand drop to his lap, turning off his sharingan. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and smiled.

Stay safe… hn. He truly hoped Sakura would heed her own advice. The invasion couldn’t be far off now. At the mere thought, he felt his muscles coil in fear. Stay safe… Sakura and Sasuke both. 

He wished he could heave a drawn-out, worry-filled sigh, but he didn’t dare in the presence of Kisame. Carefully, Itachi folded Sakura’s note into a neat little square and slipped it into his mesh shirt where it couldn’t fall off or tear; close to his heart.

---

It was ten in the morning when the summons came. Kakashi, who usually did not hold much regard for punctuality, stopped in the middle of munching on a slice of toast upon seeing the messenger bird. The envelope it was carrying appeared normal, but the seal upon it was deep red. ANBU clearance only, huh? Kakashi dropped his toast and opened the letter at once. It had been a long time.

“My, my, Kakashi-kun. So wonders do happen,” the hokage commented upon his (punctual) arrival.

Kakashi made a face, which thankfully went unseen, and waited for the hokage to continue. 

“As you know,” said the old man, “I have received your mission report. I cannot say the news it brought us were good, or even expected, but certainly they were crucial. You did well on the mission, Kakashi-kun.”

“Thank you, hokage-sama,” Kakashi replied, even as he wondered where this was going. “Ah, if that’s all…”

Hiruzen chuckled. “Kakashi-kun, not so quick, my boy! You didn’t seriously think I summoned you here with the ANBU seal just for that?”

Kakashi tensed. “I have a mission? Or is this about the… coming event?”

Hiruzen noded. “Yes to both, and you can speak freely; we’re alone.”

Kakashi’s brows rose even more. They were alone? As in, the hokage had dismissed the guards? Kakashi had only ever seen him do that a handful of times in his life, perhaps twice or thrice, and only when the information about to be shared was so classified that not even his ANBU guards were meant to hear it. He tensed further.

“I… see.”

“I’m sure you do, but I will repeat this just in case, Kakashi-kun: the mission I’m about to assign you cannot leave this room,” Hiruzen said solemnly, then took a long drag out of his pipe. Kakashi waited uneasily for  the hokage to speak again. “As you know,” he said at last, “the walls have ears and there are those in this village who would be very displeased if they were to ever find out about what I will now tell you.”

Kakashi frowned. “It’s related to the invasion then?”

“It is, as one may say, your sole task for the duration of the invasion. You may only focus on this one thing once the attack starts, and I want absolute discretion and efficiency on your part. If you’re caught and the mission fails, we will have a large problem on our hands.”

Well that didn’t sound ominous at all… Kakashi swallowed with trepidation.

“So… what do I have to do?”

The hokage scrutinized him for one more second, then he dropped the bomb: “You will assassinate the Root Commander.”

 

Río! 

Kakashi’s every thought skidded to a halt. “Ah, I’m sorry?”

“I want him dead, Kakashi,” Hiruzen said, leaning forward. “Danzo is getting too powerful lately. I can’t let him overthrow me.”

He should’ve known this was coming. He should’ve known. 

“But. But–” Kakashi heard himself scramble for words. “Why during the invasion…?”

Hiruzen huffed impatiently. “Isn’t it obvious? The commander is Danzo’s strongest asset—crucial to the integrity of Root. Remove him from the equation and they will immediately lose all their coordination and efficiency. With him gone, Danzo would never be able to pull off a coup.”

Kakashi stared at the hokage. His mind felt sluggish, he could barely wrap his head around the mission. Río… He had seen her as an innocent child now, had seen her beat some bullies with a bike and a bamboo stick, and… how could he kill her after that? How could he kill her? But he had to. This was a direct order. Rio was no longer that bright-eyed child. They were two enemies facing off in the battlefield. The hokage was right–Danzo presented a large threat, always had, and his influence was now greater than ever. Killing Rio would certainly cripple him… would at the very least buy them some time.

Kakashi straightened, an unwelcome numbness clouding his thoughts. And yet… and yet…

It felt almost like he was a stranger in his own body as his lips moved, as his eyes closed; the mirage of a faux smile.

“Understood, hokage-sama.”

 

 

 

Notes:

Chapter's ahead of schedulle, I know, but I just couldn't resist posting it now. What did you guys think? :D
I'm pretty pumped about it, honestly. Chihiro was kind of meant to be this random OC #34 but somehow her character just... expanded, and expanded, and expanded... and now I'm in love with her. #Sorrynotsorry
Anc the plot surrounding the Yamanakas just got a lot more convoluted because of that.
Hehe... anyway, I hope you don't mind her taking up space in this chappie. :p
As for Kisame and Itachi's scene, before anyone asks -- it was platonic. PLATONIC. Well, you can think whatever you want, but nothings gonna happen between our fave Uchiha and Sakura until she's of age at the minimum. So... just putting that out there.
Also, lastly, Hiruzen. Didn't y'all say he should get his act together? *grins evilly* Weeeelllll! Your wishes are my command. He finally started taking some action -- AKA offing Río. We'll see how that works out for Kakashi. I hope y'all are rooting for them!

Coming soon: Ino and Sakura have a talk, Sasuke definetly doesn't slurp his tea at parties and, last but not least, Shikaku and Kakashi discuss a decades-old mystery.

Chapter 18: The Many Talents of Ms Ino Yamanaka

Summary:

So… happy holidays!!

Notes:

Anyone catch the chapter title reference?

It was early morning and Danzo was agonizing over possible plots Orochimaru could have in store. Or rather, still agonizing, as he’d devoted the entire night to this task. For the past month, the executive head of Root had been forced to rely on shadow clones to coordinate the necessary preparations for the invasion, and even in spite of it, his desk was completely swamped with overdue work. 

The worst part was he couldn’t even appoint an agent to help him, as literally all of them were either outside of the village – on missions or recalling those on missions – or picking up the slack after those who had left. Danzo truly couldn’t spare a single one of them for something as menial as clearing out his desk. Thus, this disaster. He wasn’t exaggerating at all in saying that his office looked like a war zone. Heck, he’d even go as far as to say that it was almost as bad as the nidaime’s private study. 

For those not in the know, that might’ve sounded like a compliment. It wasn’t. While Tobirama’s office at the tower had been the picture of organization, the man’s actual house had been like something out of a horror story: there were scrolls littering every available surface, civilian science books had piled up in huge towers upon the coffee table, equal in height to the stacks of calculations on the kitchen aisle.

 The odd part was that the man had been orderly, in his own way. He’d had references to which scroll contained what knowledge plastered on some walls, and yes, the ceiling, whilst napkins with jutsu ideas hung from the coat rack. There were post-it notes everywhere, even in the bathroom – Danzo had read a few and they were just random words and numbers that had made no sense to him – but the worst and most memorable part of it all had been the collection of wooden table cutouts Tobirama had kept in his guest room. (He had tended to write his spontaneous ideas on any available surfaces whenever paper was lacking – those being tables which his brother was forced to replace – and which Tobirama would then insist had to be kept no matter what. In his guest room.) Needless to say, the room was so full it couldn’t be used anymore – actual guests could go to a hotel.

The recollection fading, Danzo stared irately at the stack of papers on the desk. His office now looked almost as bad (in his mind) as Tobirama Senju’s house had done. Other people might’ve hired a secretary at this point, if only to avoid the gray hairs, but he was too paranoid to do so. 

Danzo’s other option was making a clone to sort through the mess, but currently his chakra reserves were almost depleted from his overuse of the jutsu. Thus, he was stuck dealing with it. The councilman aimlessly shifted through the chaos.

At the corner of his desk there were a few notes taken during his trial against that horrible civilian woman, Haruno Mebuki. These were, however, the only non-classified documents in the entire room. He resisted the urge to nail Haruno’s picture to the door so he could chug shuriken at it and pushed those files aside. Below them was the dossier he’d been looking at. It contained a list of possible spies within the village. 

Danzo really couldn’t spare enough agents for an in depth investigation, but he was sure that these spies must exist somewhere. If Orochimaru had managed to get Takenaka so high up in the chain of command, other spies ought to have made it in as well; more so if Takenaka had helped smuggle them in. 

Unfortunately, Root was a primarily assault-oriented batch of ANBU. They specialized in combat – excelled at it, if you asked him – but social competence wasn’t exactly their forte. And a certain social intuition was very much needed to pinpoint who was a spy. Even if he put his Root to the task, frogs would sooner rain from the sky than them developing social wiles overnight. In other words, he would have to outsource the spy issue to T&I… find some way to convince them that his paranoia wasn’t, in fact, paranoia.

Distractedly, Danzo cast the dossier aside and grabbed the note labeled: ‘daily tower report’ that had been placed on the very top of the pile a few minutes prior. Strange… it was early today. Eyebrows scrunching up, Danzo began leafing through it. His agents were very busy, yes, but no way in hell would he leave that worm Hiruzen to his own devices without keeping an eye on what he was up to. Since… well. Since certain events, Danzo made a point to eavesdrop on any and all conversations that happened in the hokage’s office. Was it treasonous? Some may argue so, but if you asked him, his actions didn’t really count if no one knew about them. Ninja, and all that jazz.

Hiruzen, however, was seemingly not as stupid as he let on, because the eavesdropper had been halted in his tracks by a very particular privacy seal… one Jiraiya must have given him recently. Drat. That damn oaf! Danzo scowled, wishing now that he could nail Hiruzen’s picture to the wall instead. Thankfully, his agent had been able to verify that every other guard had been kicked out of the building as well, so the privacy seal was most likely just a precaution, not because the hokage knew Danzo was actively spying on him. Still… the contents of the report were bad news. Danzo’s mien darkened significantly.

Hatake Kakashi had been the only one in that room with the hokage. Whatever they had talked about was unknown, but it was obvious that Hatake had been assigned some sort of mission. Damn it all! If Danzo wasn’t wrong, Hatake was Hiruzen’s most trusted… and the hokage hadn’t gone to that extent of privacy for the rest of the invasion preparations… So why now? Technically, Hatake’s mission could be anything. Anyone else would’ve assumed it had to do with the invasion.

But not Danzo.

No, his gut told him that this was another beast entirely. The elder sneered. One thing was clear: he was going to have to watch his back during the invasion.

“Fool, Hiruzen.” He slowly laid the report back on the ‘read’ pile. “Have you forgotten what happens if you target me?”

Darkly, Danzo got up from his seat and gestured for one of his guards. 

“Danzo-sama?” prompted the agent, as he crouched deferentially before him.

“Get Río in here.”

“Checkmate!” 

Sakura’s father huffed. “No! Not again, old man!”

Her grandfather grinned mischievously even as Mebuki offered them some mochi. Eagerly, Sakura began eating the green mochi, but then there was a noise in the kitchen.

Orochimaru. He’d come back to finish what he started!

“Maybe it’s that spider infestation again,” said Mebuki distractedly as she sipped her tea.

Ah, thank god. That was more likely.

Dad grunted. “I want a rematch.”

“Think you can beat me, sonny?” Grandpa taunted, looking pleased with himself.

“But what about the spider infestation in the kitchen!” Sakura cried. Annoyingly, her family ignored her.

“Here, eat this!” her mother said suddenly and then stuffed a green tea mochi down her throat.

Never mind the spiders, Sakura started chewing on it, and it somehow tasted odd, like medicine… except then she got the aftertaste of lettuce.

And suddenly her entire frame was wrecked with shivers and she couldn’t breathe, the lettuce expanding and expanding until she could think of nothing but a plant that was inside of her. And then it turned out that her mom was secretly Orochimaru who was cackling madly at her.

“Sakura! Sakura!” someone was screaming.

“Breathe!” her father said.

“Oh god,” someone was sobbing in the background.

And then the lettuce exploded inside of her and Sakura heaved and started coughing. Blood was coming out of her mouth and nose, everything hurt, and then she puked a black goo that probably came from the spiders, and then…  a plant . 

Painstakingly, the spindly, thorny plant that she knew so well from many of her nightmares started coming out, bit by bit, and Sakura knew that if it came out all the way she would choke to death. It was almost there, she couldn’t breathe any longer, she was starting to feel faint even as Orochimaru grabbed the plant and tugged , its thorns were scratching painfully against her throat–

She woke up with a start. 

Somehow, her blanket had ended up nestled over her head whilst she was asleep, meaning: Sakura truly hadn’t been able to get any fresh air. Now, her breathing ragged and her skin marred  with goosebumps, she tore the blanket away as if it was on fire and sat up on her bed. All alone in the darkness, Sakura took a moment to just breathe .

Nightmares, she found, had turned into a nightly companion of hers. And even if the one today hadn’t been as intense as some of the others she’d had, she was not exactly feeling very cozy after this one either. Her brain was wide awake now and her senses paranoid about every little noise in the darkness of her room. She sighed. It was best not to think about how exposed she was. She knew all too well how much of a slippery slope that was. There was no way she’d catch any shuteye if she let her mind wander to where it wanted to go. 

And so, Sakura made a concentrated effort of relaxing the tension on her shoulders and stretching. What time was it? She glanced over to her nightstand and found that her bunny-themed clock indicated it to be five a.m…. well, that did mark an improvement over the previous nights. But even so, Sakura could hardly concentrate on anything but her dream, or more specifically: that plant.

Now more than ever, she was certain of one thing: no matter what, she had to find out a way to help cure Tetsuya’s illness, and the only  way to that was by first identifying what the hell the plant was that he had spit out in the first place. Once she knew that much, she could come up with a plan.

And so, resolute in her objective, Sakura marched to Ino’s flower shop first thing in the morning, the actual plant which Tetsuya had spit a few days ago firm in her grip. Of course, she wasn’t lucky and Ino was on call.

“Good morning, how can I –  Forehead?”

“Hi Ino-pig,” Sakura replied churlishly.

“You look like death warmed over,” Ino commented from behind the counter, inspecting her nails faux-casually.

“Gee thanks,” Sakura said, though she did agree with the sentiment.

Ino glanced at her furtively, and in that split second, she seemed to have come to a decision. Her tone suddenly less biting, she said: “Honestly Forehead, concealer exists for a reason, y’know?” She ruffled through one of the drawers, pulled out a stick-tube thing, and threw it at Sakura, who caught it reflexively.

“Wha…?”

“For your eyebags,” Ino explained.

“But, but why?” Sakura asked in disbelief. Was Ino seriously acting… nice ? 

“Hmp. I can’t have my rival looking like a zombie, you know? It would reflect badly on me, so do me a favor and put the damn concealer on.”

Laughing a little at the oddness of the situation, Sakura inspected the concealer, noting that it was from one of the more expensive brands. “Thanks,” she said simply as she applied it. Ino wordlessly fished a pocket mirror out of yet another drawer and held it out for her.

They were silent until Sakura was done.

“So, what brings you here, Forehead? Come to admire my awesome self?”

Sakura shrugged. “Actually, I have a bit of an odd request…”

“Which is?”

Hesitantly, Sakura withdrew the plant from a bag and laid it on the counter. “I need information on this plant.”

Ino looked at her oddly, then at the plant. 

“It’s butt ugly.”

“Yep.”

They both grinned involuntarily, then guiltily schooled their features with furtive glances at the other.

“And may I know why in the name of the seven hells you would want to know that?” Ino questioned wryly.

“Well…” Sakura considered telling her the truth but then decided it was not her secret to tell.

“It’s for a research project. Bookworm, remember?”

Ino rolled her eyes. “Figures. Anyway, I can’t recognize it on sight, but I can look into the family archives. It ought to appear in one of our scrolls.”

Sakura nodded gratefully. “That would be amazing. How much do you want for it?” 

Ino looked at her as if she’d grown another head. “It’s free of charge, Forehead.”

“But–”

“No buts. Just… think of it as you owing me a favor in return, okay?” 

Sakura nodded hesitantly.

“Can I ask you another thing?” Ino added.

Sakura nodded again. “Go on…”

“Sakura… why is there blood on that plant?”

Sakura froze. “Uhhh… I accidentally nicked myself with one of its thorns.”

Ino gave her a dubious look. “Wow, what a clutz.”

“Haha, yeah.”

 There was an awkward silence. “Anyway,” said Ino. “Let me grab the scrolls on shrubbery plants which have flowers first and we can start looking through them now. If a client comes, I’ll have to go attend them, but until then…”

Sakura stared at her with shock. She was completely thrown by Ino’s obliging behavior. Still in disbelief, she forcefully shut her gaping mouth and nodded at her.

“Sounds like a plan!”

They spent almost the entire morning combing through the scrolls that Ino had brought forth, first through the non-poisonous plants, then through the poisonous ones, debating all the way to which category their object of study belonged…  and against all predictions, it turned out to be fun . Sakura was only now starting to realize how much she’d missed her best friend… former best friend. The truth was, with Ino present, anything could be entertaining, even the most boring research tasks. She’d almost forgotten that part of their friendship.

And then, quite suddenly, she was overcome by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sakura felt a pang in her heart. Why had she told Ino that they were rivals again? Why had she gone and broken something so beautiful?

But just as she was getting sidetracked by her own musings, it happened:

“Sakura, look!” Ino cried out.

“Yes?”

“I think I’ve found it!” The blonde excitedly pointed out a picture in one of the large scrolls she’d been pouring through. “And I was right! It is poisonous!”

Say what? It couldn’t be! Sakura glanced at the scroll and was immediately surprised to find that the depicted image was a perfect match to Tetsuya’s plant. 

She had automatically assumed that it couldn’t be poisonous because he’d had the freaking thing inside of him for Hashirama knows how long and was still alive to tell the tale, so obviously it had to be a non-poisonous plant… but of  course, Sakura  hadn’t been able to tell this to Ino, who had consequently insisted that the colour of the flowers could mean that the plant could be poisonous judging by its coloring. Unable to explain why she knew it not to be the case, Sakura had acquiesced and agreed that Ino could search through the scrolls on poisonous plants whilst she took the rest, expecting nothing to come of Ino’s search…. but somehow, it was Ino who had been right. Ino had been the one to stumble upon the answer.

Still somewhat incredulous, Sakura leaned over and studied the entry which talked about Tetsuya’s plant.

Solanum pyracanthos, the text read, also known as the porcupine tomato or devil’s thorn. This plant belongs to the genus of the tomato family, bearing many discrete resemblances to tomatoes. It is an evergreen shrub native to – blah, blah, blah… Sakura skipped over the boring parts.

[...] the S. pyracanthos is a copious producer of seeds, and should therefore be handled carefully, as new saplings are aggressive growers and immediately produce their large thorns.

CAUTION: Any and all leaves, flowers and fruit of the plant are poisonous. Like many members of the Solanum genus, devil’s thorn contains highly toxic tropane alkaloids.

 

Sakura lowered the scroll, a deep frown marrying her features. This certainly didn’t bode well for Tetsuya. She’d absolutely have to tell him not to swallow the devil’s thorn under any circumstances. She also found it remarkably ironic that the plant would be of the tomato genus, of all things. Tetsuya had been so adamant that tomatoes made good presents for Sasuke… he must  surely like them a lot! And to have, on top of everything,  the parody of a favorite plant of his be the one that was parasitically growing inside of him… well, it ought to be horrible. Not that it wasn’t horrible already. She pursed her lips unhappily. More disheartening was the fact that the scroll didn’t mention any instances of devil’s thorn being able to grow inside of another human.

“Well, Forehead?” Ino questioned. “Am I awesome or what?”

Sakura looked up, startled. She’d almost forgotten she wasn’t alone. “Yeah, Ino,” she said sincerely. “You really are.”

Ino grinned. “Well, c’mon! Let’s put all of these back where we took them from.” Sakura glanced at all the scrolls and suppressed the expression of dawning horror that threatened to take over her face. That would take a while.

Half an hour later, they’d both finished returning all the scrolls to their respective places. It was time for Sakura to go, but she found herself strangely reluctant to. And so, she and Ino stood in awkward silence, separated only by the shop counter and their own insecurities.

“Forehead.”

“Pig.”

The two girls scrutinized one other.

“Was there something else?” Ino slowly asked, her voice cautious.

Sakura leaned over the counter, took a fortifying breath and…

“Ino-p… Ino,” she stuttered. “Listen, I know we’ve had our differences and I…” God damn it! She’d prepared this speech in advance whilst returning the scrolls to their places but now she was drawing a blank.  

On her part, Ino was staring at her. “Sakura?”

God damn it! Just say something, Sakura!!! 

 “Wanna grab some ice cream, Pig?!”

Ino took a step back in surprise. Embarrassed, Sakura clapped a hand over her mouth and cursed her own lack of subtlety. Ino would most certainly say no! They were rivals, enemies. Even if she’d acted nice, it was because of her job at the flower shop and nothing else… 

But then, the oddest thing happened:

Ino took a deep breath and said: “I’m on a diet, Sakura…” Sakura’s heart sank, “ But…” she suddenly smiled, “but think I’m entitled to a cheat day.” Sakura was so surprised that her mouth fell open, even as Ino winked. 

“You’ll come? Just like that?”

 “Sure,” said Ino, affecting a blasé manner. “It’s not like I just agreed to have your baby, Forehead.”

Sakura blushed. “That’s not…! I didn’t…”

Ino laughed. “Just teasing. C’mon, let me just ask my aunt real quick if I can end my shift early, okay?”

Sakura smiled. “Okay.”

It would’ve been hard to describe with words the happiness, the rightness , she felt in that moment. She could barely believe it. Sakura listened, mute with disbelief, as Ino bargained with her aunt to work a double shift later on in exchange for getting the rest of the day off. It was definitely a bad deal, and yet Ino took it!

A feeling of gratefulness and yes, love, welled up within her. Sakura knew that she’d been unfair to Ino. Deep down, she’d always known that it was her fault that their friendship had broken. A part of her would always feel like an ungrateful, childish moron for pushing things to their breaking point, for insisting that her crush on Sasuke meant that they couldn’t be friends anymore, that they had to be love rivals or some such tripe. Gods, she’d been immature! In hindsight, Sakura didn’t understand why she’d felt like that. She just remembered thinking Sasuke handsome and being jealous of Ino, not wanting to be the ugly friend living in her shadow, the forehead girl who always gets overlooked and… maybe… yes, maybe she’d wanted to prove herself to Ino, wanted the one at the end of the compliments for once, wanted to be the one in charge… But then Sakura shrugged it off. Nah, it had probably just been her dumb crush talking.

But in any case, she was aware that her actions hadn’t been entirely fair toward Ino. For the longest time she’d felt guilty, channeled that guilt into resentment and a need not to think about the matter… and that was why it was so odd that Ino would just… just agree to get ice cream, just like that!

Sakura felt something deep down weep for her best friend. She didn’t deserve Ino. She was too good.

“Sakura? What are you standing around for?” Ino’s voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, um, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Sakura hurried after her best friend.

The icecream had surely tasted fantastic, but Sakura was too busy delighting in her best friend’s company to appreciate it. She’d expected things to be stilted, she’d kept waiting for the inevitable awkward silences that would surely ensue… but they never came. Somehow, it was like no time had passed at all since they were besties… it was like they’d never stopped being friends at all, like the one and a half years of insulting each other had never even happened.

They talked about everything under the sun. Ino talked about her own trials with her team, about Shikamaru and Choji’s merits and their annoying sides, she talked about her sensei’s smoking habit and how she always acted annoyed at him for the stench but secretly worried about his health… she told Sakura about wanting to be a damn good kunoichi and how her outlook on training had changed.

Sakura herself opened up a little more slowly, but a while into the conversation had her sharing her own problems as well. For the first time, she had someone her age to talk to about everything that was wrong at the moment. She told Ino of her parent’s order to stop ‘playing’ ninja, of her job as a waitress and how hard it was, of the insane training she was putting herself through, of her worries that some threat loomed in the horizon… 

And Ino was so understanding, so vehement in her support, Sakura couldn’t help but get emotional out of plain gratitude. Ino had even offered to pitch in with some money for her grandfather, and Sakura had of course refused, but still…! It had made her very happy. Ino had even insisted, but Sakura stayed firm. She didn’t want charity, and she especially didn’t want Ino to think that she’d rekindled their friendship out of self-interest.

“But Sakura–!”

“No, Ino. This is non-negotiable. Please. I’m very grateful to you for your offer, but…”

Ino sighed. “I… yeah. Sorry.” She was silent for a moment, and then, in a surprisingly serious tone: “Sakura?”

Sakura looked up quizzically.

“I don’t want to undermine you. Please. If something I do or say comes across as, as superior or something, just, just tell me. Because I don’t notice when I’m doing it, I’m just bossy like that, but I wanted you to know that I consider you my equal, like my sister but not my little sister, you know? Like my twin. Same-age, same everything sister, and–”

“Oh, INO!” Sakura cut her off by tackling her into a hug. “You’re the best twin I could’ve asked for, you know that?”

Ino smirked. “‘course I do, Forehead,” she said cheekily.

Both blinked and suddenly Ino’s expression was replaced by dismay. “I’m sorry, Sakura. Sorry. That came out wrong, I–”    

“Ino, stop,” Sakura interrupted her. “Forehead is fine, really. It’s a fun nickname.”

“You… sure?” Ino said. “I mean, it’s sort of insulting…”

“It’s a body part, Ino, not the end of the world,” Sakura said. “I’m not self-conscious about my forehead anymore.” Vaguely, she recalled Tetsuya telling her that it was a perfectly okay forehead and a part of her lightened. In hindsight, her insecurity seemed silly. There were worse problems in the world  than a large forehead. 

“I… really? You seriously don’t mind?” Ino repeated.

“Yeah,” Sakura said. “Though just so you know, I’m not calling you pig anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Pig is offensive,” Sakura explained decisively. “So I’m not using it.

Ino frowned. “But it’s only fair…”

“Oh, come on, Ino. I can call you something else instead… just not pig.”

“Well, I guess there are better options than pig… just make sure not to pick bimbo instead!”

Sakura giggled. “Far be it for me to do such a thing! Nah, there are some way better alternatives…”

“Such as?”

“Hmm…” Sakura adopted a pensive expression. “Well, I think Boo Boo Bear fits the bill, don’t you?”

“Forehead!” Ino screeched laughingly. “If I had a pillow on hand I’d throw it at you!”

“Awww, but Boo Boo Bear has such a nice ring to it!”

“Nope! Think of something else!”

“In that case… Rolly Polly!”

“GAH –  NO!!”   

“Cutie Pie!”

“Take a hike, Forehead!”

“Ha ha nope!”

“Aw come on!”

Ino sighed and mock turned toward some imaginary spectator. “Someone get help, there’s a crazy girl here! She’s a cuckoo!”

Sakura laughed, then forced her face to appear serious. “You know, Ino, you just gave me a marvelous idea for a nickname… Ladies and gentleman, please welcome Madam Coo Coo!”

“Sakura, no!”

“Sakura yes ! It’s a fantastic idea!”

“Forehead, I’m gonna kill you!”

“Aww Coo Coo, that’s so cute of you to say!” Sakura paused. Her glee vanished as she considered that maybe Ino really didn’t like Coo Coo.  “Or well, if you prefer, I could just call you cheeseball instead. Or beanstalk. Or noodle. You do look remarkably like a noodle.”

“First of all,” Ino said, “don’t you dare, Forehead. I do not want Naruto to confuse me with a ramen bowl. Second of all… cheeseball. Really?”

“What’s wrong with Cheeseball?” Sakura asked with a pout.

Ino rolled her eyes. “You know what, Forehead? Just call me pig and you’ll save us all a headache.

Sakura frowned. “Chipmunk? Guppy? Dumpling?” Ino glared at her. Sakura sighed. “Alright, alright. I give up! Pig it is. Happy?”

“Very.”

Sakura smirked. “Let’s shake on it, shall we?”

Ino chuckled. “You got it, Forehead.”

And so, their friendship was officially reinstated.

Yamanaka Inoichi and Shikaku Nara were on their lunch break.

“–I really, really deserve a medal,” Inoichi was saying.

“You do,” Shikaku responded.

“I mean, the fact that I managed to not only not strangle him, but also contain my killing intent, and as if that weren’t enough, to keep my cool whilst picturing how I snapped his neck–”

“Commendable.”

“Gosh, I wanted to snap it so bad…”

“You have my respect, truly.”

Inoichi rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, Shikaku. But seriously! The nerve of that man. To waltz into my domain, only to then proceed to try and order me around, whilst he is the sole responsible for kidnapping my daughter… he’s going to pay . He’s going to pay so bad…”

Shikaku nodded. “Trust me, I know. I know.” A pause. “What’d he want, anyway?”

Inoichi scoffed. “He thinks we have a mole. Well, he thinks we have more than one.”

“And is he right?”

“Well…” The Yamanaka’s lip pursed. “I’d love to say he’s mental, but… Danzo insisted that the former ANBU commander was a plant and that he’s got proof of it, so I don’t know what to think. He wants us to look into possible allies he might’ve had.”

Shikaku frowned. “If Takenaka really was a mole, then we’re in deep shit.”

“That’s what Danzo said,” Inoichi said. “I’m hoping he’s just being paranoid, but…”

“Fuck.”

Inoichi sighed. “Fuck indeed. And I will look into it, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting that horrible old prune to just keel over and die.”

“I thought you wanted to strangle him?”

“Snap his neck. Though asphyxiation is one of the most agonizing ways to go…”

The two men looked at each other. Shikaku sighed. “Look, we’ll move against him – but Hatake’s advice to your wife was a good one – we need to bide our time before doing anything. And for the good of Konoha, we really should wait after the invasion is over for this. Not only because it’s the right thing to do, but also because the hokage’s central power will have been destabilized and he’ll have to rely on the clan heads more; he’ll owe us. Hopefully a lot of Root agents will also die…”

Inoichi sighed. “Their survival rates during the war were off the charts. I think if we wait until after the invasion, it might be to Root’s benefit – in terms of casualties only… but hopefully it won’t come to a Root vs ANBU scenario.”

“Yeah. Fingers crossed.” Shikaku frowned darkly. “So? You’ll wait?”

“Yeah…” Inoichi sighed, glancing at his watch. “Damn… looks like our break’s over.”

“Troublesome. You heading back to T&I?”

The Yamanaka cocked his head. “Actually – no. I gotta stop by the hospital.”

“Oh, good. I have to go there at some point as well. I’ll just head on over now.”

The two men cleaned up the remainders of their lunch and quickly headed out.

“So, the hospital? Why?” Inoichi asked.

Shikaku shrugged. “Director wants to place a new order on the frost azaleas.”

“Oh, right. We got a request too, I think?”

“So you’re not heading there for that?” Shikaku questioned. “I had assumed you were.”

“No,” said Inoichi. “Actually, it has to do with Danzo.”

The head of the Nara clan paused, giving him a questioning look.

Inoichi launched into the explanation. “While we were discussing possible spies, the first Yugao Uzuki’s case came up. You heard of that, right?”

Shikaku nodded.

“Well, turns out Danzo didn’t know about it. It’s super old so it shouldn’t even matter, but of course the geezer asked to read the report even after I briefed him on it. More like …demanded it. Happily, I was able to tell him that the report is maximum clearance so he could fuck off.”

“You didn’t actually tell him that, right?”

Inoichi gave him a look.

“…just checking.”

“Anyway,” Inoichi continued. “ I technically didn’t lie. But what nobody knows is that I tried to privately investigate the matter back then and I’ve still got my notes from that time. As you know, I have an office at the hospital to give the illusion that the, ah, interviews I sometimes have to conduct on patients are more of a mind doctor’s appointment than an actual interrogation. I’ve got my notes on the case there.”

“And you still keep them?” Shikaku asked curiously. “Why at the hospital though?”

Inoichi nodded. “I keep them in a secret, sealed compartment in my office. I figure no one one would think to look in there, see? So it’s actually safer than keeping some things sealed in the typical places.”

“As usual, your caution proves a virtue.” Shikaku drawled, though his facial expression said he was distracted. “However, it’s odd. Wasn’t Uzuki’s case from over a decade ago? What would Danzo want to read the file for?”

“ Yes ,” Inoichi exclaimed. “That’s precisely why I want to have another look as well. It could just be him being paranoid – you know how the old prune is – but still. Dot you think… don’t you think it’s odd that he didn’t know about Uzuki whatsoever? It was all over the village when it happened.”

Shikaku nodded thoughtfully. 

“But wouldn’t you guys have made sure that there were no loose ends?” Shikaku asked, confused. “Why would he need to check that file  now? Even if he didn’t know about it, it shouldn’t matter.”

“Firstly, Danzo is a control freak.” Inoichi waved his hands to indicate he was also insane. “Secondly – there might be something to his suspicion.”

“Meaning?”

“We actually didn’t have much to go off on at the time. The report on the false Uzuki was turned in by her only remaining teammate, but it was very clipped and gave little to go off on. More importantly… there were entire pages of it that were completely blacked out.”

“ What ? But you have highest clearance in intelligence matters!”

“Exactly! Do you think I lied to Danzo when I said he had no clearance to read it?” Inoichi exclaimed.

“But he’s in the high council!”

 “That’s just the thing, Shikaku. The clearance level is literally ‘hokage only’.”

Shikaku’s eyes widened. “But then – there’s only two people in the entire village who would know what that report says. The hokage… and the person who wrote it.”

“Indeed.” Inoichi nodded. “I had always assumed that Danzo would be in the know as well. The fact that he’s not is… disconcerting.“

Shikaku hummed. “Who wrote the report, anyway?”

“Oh, don’t bother, my friend,” Inoichi said drily. “I know what you’re like when a mystery presents itself – that you’ll hound any person necessary for answers – but trust me, he won’t tell you a damn thing. You know how tight-lipped Hatake Kakashi can be…”

Shikaku frowned thoughtfully. ‘We’ll see about that…’

After Sakura’s reconciliation with Ino, she and the blonde began to meet up as often as their hectic schedules would allow. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, those stolen hours were  the favorite part of Sakura’s day. But even so, the more time she spent with Ino, the worse she felt about not spending it with Sasuke. Ino, of course, had noticed something was wrong and questioned Sakura about it until she caved and opened up. She ended up telling Ino of everything that had happened, including how Sasuke was now reticent to talk to Naruto, how he and Sakura had fought and made up and how terrible Sakura felt about not crushing on him anymore.

All throughout her explanation, Ino had nodded understandingly and asked questions when necessary, but it was not until afterward that she told Sakura her own opinion:

“Gosh, Forehead, that sucks so much. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah…”

“Honestly, if only Sasuke still had eyesight! Then we could get your cousin to drop by and Sasuke could just see with his own two eyes that that is just too much raw beauty to compete with!”

“Sorry, what?” asked Sakura with alarm.

“Tetsuya, Forehead! He’s so hot his face should be used as the symbol of Fire Country!”

“Ino! That would be wrong on so many levels…!”

“What? It’s true! Don’t you deny it!”

Sakura blushed bright crimson. “Ino, you are not helping!” She frowned. “Beside. Tetsuya’s not actually my cousin.”

“SAY WHAT?!”

“Well… it’s a long story…” 

After getting sidetracked by the topic of Itachi and his hotness for some more, Ino and Sakura had finally returned to the Sasuke topic and unsurprisingly, Ino knew exactly what to do:

“What he needs is a boost to his male ego.”

Sakura blinked at her friend quizzically. “Uh-huh.”

“Just leave it to me, Forehead!”

“Alright…” said Sakura suspiciously.

“Yep. Don’t worry. I’ll fix Sasuke right up. Just tell him he can come to my house with you and we can chill together. I bet it won’t be so awkward if I’m there to break the ice!”

Sakura looked at her newly-reinstated best friend dubiously, but she didn’t want Ino to feel excluded or anything. Inviting Sasuke along to an outing with her would prove to Ino that she was over him more than anything else, wouldn’t it?

Surprisingly, when Sakura brought up the topic with Sasuke, he was amenable to meet with Ino in two days, come next Friday. Not quite believing her luck (and the fact that Sasuke had agreed to meet Ino, of all people!) Sakura decided to just go with it and pray for things not to go wrong. To her chagrin, Ino continued acting mysterious about what exactly her plan entailed and revealed no particulars.

And so, the days came and went, until finally, it was Friday and thereby The Day. As per their agreement, Sakura had finished up at work earlier and left to pick Sasuke up at his apartment (and wasn’t that a weird thought) and they promptly left en route Ino’s house.

“Umm, if Ino does anything weird, just ignore it,” Sakura felt compelled to say.

“Hn,” was Sasuke’s eloquent reply.

And so, the pair of them advanced toward Ino’s house. Sakura was beginning to dread the moment they’d arrive, so of course they got there in a heartbeat and with no set-backs.

“Forehead!” Ino exclaimed, yanking the door open even before Sakura could knock. “Come in!”

“Er, hi Pig. I brought Sasuke.”

“Hi Sasuke,” Ino said casually. “Anyways, come in. My old man is at work and mom’s at a friend’s house so we got the place to ourselves.”

Sakura eyed her friend suspiciously. So far, so good.

A few minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, crowded around the kotatsu even though it was summer and Ino had even thought to serve them tea and cookies.

“The tea is good,” Sasuke surprised them by saying.

“Uh, sure is, huh?” Ino preened. “We don’t own one of the biggest herbal trades in the entirety of Fire Country in vain, you know.”

Sakura punched her lightly. “Show off!”

“Bah, Forehead. Just stating the facts!”

“Ha, as if,” Sakura replied, before she could convince herself otherwise. Then, she carefully mouthed ‘Sasuke’ and ‘marriage prospects’.

Ino choked on her tea.

“Ha ha,” she laughed awkwardly. 

Sakura resisted the urge to face-palm at herself. “Ha ha. The tea does taste delicious.”

They continued making painstaking smalltalk about tea and tea rituals, all the while doing their best to coax Sasuke into conversation. Somehow, and  – Sakura had no idea how –  this worked and they actually managed to get him talking. Apparently, he had fond memories of traditional tea ceremonies. Sakura, who knew he was an orphan, was unsure whether this was okay for him to talk about, but for the moment, he seemed fine to go on at length about how to do this and that, and get little corrections from Ino, who had been drilled extensively on the topic of tea ceremonies since a young age. Now it was Sakura who felt a little left out, as she had not much to say on the matter, but she was too busy marveling over Ino’s conversational skills to mind much.

‘Just sit back and watch the magic happen’, Ino had said the other day. 

‘Well I’ll be damned,’ Sakura thought to herself. ‘It is actually happening!’

After they’d milked the topic of tea and clan customs for all its worth, Ino disappeared into the kitchen with their trays and returned shortly after with a speaker.

“I got a speaker!” she chirped, ignoring Sakura’s slightly apprehensive look.

“A speaker,” Sasuke repeated tartly. 

“Yeah, a speaker. That way we can listen to some beats and y’know.”

Sasuke’s expression indicated that he didn’t, in fact, know, but it went ignored. 

“Do you know any pop songs, Sasuke?”

“No.”

“Hm, no matter. Forehead and I will make a good duet, you can take care of the choruses.”

“No,” said Sasuke.

“Aw, come on! The choruses are really easy to lea–”

“No.”

Ino rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright. Forehead, pick a song!”

 

 

 

 

 

Sakura stared at Ino suspiciously, wondering what on earth her best friend was plotting. In the end, she ended up choosing one by her favorite artist,  Taira Suifu.

“Hmmm,” said Ino. “Okay. I know the lyrics. Ready for karaoke, guys?”

“...”

“Hn.”

“YAY LET’S GO!”

And so they began.

Sakura started with the first verse: “Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, I was in your sights you got me alone, you found me…”

Then it was Ino’s turn: “I guess you didn't care, and I guess I liked that, and when I fell hard, you took a step back, without me”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Was it just her, or was the song, in a sense, weirdly reminiscent of their own story?

It was her turn to sing now: “And he's long gone, when he's next to me,” Ironic how Sasuke really was sitting next to her, “and I realize – the blame is on me!”

It was her fault for choosing Sasuke over their friendship. Sakura looked pointedly at her best friend, and Ino nodded; she understood. They both smiled at each other and began to sing full throttle.

“I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN –!”

Sasuke, meanwhile, ‘looked’ at them as if they were lunatics. 

 

 

The rest of the evening was shaping up to be pretty fun, with Sakura and Ino singing along to some songs and chatting animatedly during others, with Sasuke making a comment here and there, when it happened: a song came on by Ari Gurande, Ino’s favorite artist.

So of course Ino had to sit up and yell: “Sasuke, I’m dedicating this to you!”

Sasuke turned toward Sakura as if asking ‘what the devil?’ and Sakura tried to say something along the lines of ‘um just ignore her she’s weird’ but it came out as a stutter right in tandem with the sinking feeling on her stomach.

Sakura decided right then and there that she had to distract Sasuke whilst Ino… did her thing, and of course that turned out about as well as one could’ve expected. Namely, Sakura and Sasuke proceeded to have the most awkward conversation of their lives whilst Ino frolicked about in the background.

 

 

 

“Yo, Sasuke!” Ino pointed at Sakura. “She got a body like an hourglass, but I can give it to you all the time!”

Meanwhile: “I wonder what Kakashi’s doing…”

“Probably reading porn somewhere.”

 And then: “She got a booty like a nanana, but I can send you into overdrive, oh…”

“…”

“…for sure. Sensei’s such a pervert…”

“Hn.”

Behind him, Ino was dancing sexily in the background, yelling: “Bang bang into the room! I know you want it, bang bang all over you, I'll let you have it!”

Sakura felt herself flush in mortification and for once she was so glad that Sasuke couldn’t see, so glad …  

“Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)! Wait a minute 'til youuuu–”

“Err… it’s sure getting late…”

Ino grinned mischievously, pointing at Sakura from across the room, then at herself.

“She might'a let you hold her hand in school, but I'ma show you how to graduate !” 

That was it .

Sakura stomped over to her. “Ino, stop!”

Ino ignored the plea and made a come hither motion at Sasuke, who of course couldn’t see it.

“ No, I don't need to hear you talk the talk ,” she bellowed gleefully, “just come and show me what your momma gave !”

By that point, Sakura had turned redder than an overripe tomato. “ Ino !” She ended up throwing her sandal at the speaker in hopes of turning it off, which incidentally only resulted in the song blaring even louder. 

“See, Sasuke, anybody could be good to you…YOU NEED A BAD GIRL TO BLOW YOUR MIND!” 

Sakura screeched in horror and tackled Ino, who dodged and burst out laughing. “The speaker is mine , Forehead!”

“Give it here, Ino!” This somehow devolved into a lot of screeching as they rolled around in pursuit of the speaker. 

Four minutes and two crow nests for hair later, when the song was already over, Sakura had finally managed to turn it off.

“That was fun,” she panted out sarcastically.

“You like it wild, don’t cha Forehead?” 

Sakura scowled.

Unperturbed, Ino looked around slowly. “Where’d Sasuke go?” 

Her residual laughter vanishing, Sakura glanced around as well, a sinking feeling in her gut. Shit. Now they’d done it. Sasuke had left and– 

“I’m here.” 

They both whipped around in shock and were greeted by the sight of… Sasuke leaning against the wall, a teacup in hand. His expression implied just how moronic he thought them to be.

There was an awkward silence in which Sakura and Ino just looked at each other.

“Have you been sitting there all along?” Sakura questioned at length.

“Hn.”

“Just sitting there slurping tea?” Ino clarified.

“I don’t slurp,” Sasuke said archly. “And no. I decided to remove myself from the line of fire.”

Sakura and Ino glanced at each other again. What… the… actual…

Without meaning to, they burst into giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. It was especially gratifying when even Sasuke’s lip quirked up a fraction. 

Well. At least he finally smirks again , Sakura thought happily.

 

 

 

 

 

“Kakashi-kun, what is this?” Hiruzen asked with an arched eyebrow. It was quite late – mission adjudication was long since over, the hokage tower almost empty.

Kakashi shrugged, placing both of his hands in his pockets. Carefully, he handed over the scrap of paper he’d written on with a crayon. Kakashi knew that his mission to kill Río was a delicate matter, so he’d picked the least likely time he might get eavesdropped on and wrote up a report in code.

Recently, I’ve been bored. I don’t know about you, hokage-sama, but… Outside of the Tora mission, there’s nothing to do. I know you’ll disagree though. Sarutobi Hiruzen is a busy man. The busiest. Honestly, I don’t know how you stand it. Every minute of it, continuous, monotonous paperwork. You’ve got to file so many different reports on a daily basis, it’s a nightmare. And then rinse and repeat. More: sitting behind that desk all those hours… Awful. Not that you aren’t good at your job or anything. Aye. Kakashi Hatake respects his hokage, let that be known. And the paperwork – he respects (and fears) the paperwork.

Having a stone with your face plastered on it can’t be that pleasant either. Eh, or is that just me? In any case, I hope you’ve enjoyed my literary composition. Reading streams of consciousness is almost as fun as writing them. Either is riveting. So, having said that, my job here is done.

So long!

Kakashi had written it haphazardly in a scrap of used paper, making sure that every capitalized letter at the beginning of each sentence carried the true message. It was a very basic code, but it should be enough.

 

After scrutinizing the message for a minute, Hiruzen looked up, his face made of stone.

“Thank you, Kakashi-kun.”

Kakashi watched the man for any signs of surprise, any clue of what he was truly thinking, but he gained no insight. The hokage’s face may as well have been made of stone (heh).

Meanwhile, Kakashi’s impatience rose. He wasn’t going to call off the assassination? He wasn’t going to use this politically? Even if Hiruzen didn’t want to make Danzo’s dealings public knowledge, as they’d occurred during his own tenure, why didn’t he just off the councilman himself? Why go after Río first?

Kakashi watched him, liking the silence less and less. “So… I’m still on for that side assignment? No changes?”

Hiruzen slowly burnt the note with a flare of fire chakra. “No changes. And remember – be discreet.” His words from last time rang in Kakashi’s head. It has to look like an accident, like a casualty of the invasion.

Shit – had that order ever even been for Danzo’s benefit at all? Had Hiruzen known who Río was all along? Or maybe he simply didn’t care who she was as long as Inoichi didn’t find out he’d killed her? Goddammit.

“Ma, alrighty then,” Kakashi said, faux-cheerfully. “I should get going.”

“Ah, before I forget, Kakashi,” Hiruzen interrupted. “Since you’re here… I figure this might interest you, in case you hadn’t heard.”

“Heard?”

“Hayate’s body was found this morning. We suspect certain parties… but there is no evidence. It’s possible he was caught eavesdropping on something he shouldn’t have.”

“I… I didn’t know,” Kakashi said quietly.

“It is truly a travesty,” Hiruzen agreed. “The funeral will be tomorrow.”

“Alright… I’ll be there.”

 

 

 

 

On their way back, Sakura asked Sasuke how he’d liked the outing.

“It was fine.”

“And what did you think of Ino?” Sakura needled.

“I have a theory that blonde people are insane.”

She chuckled. “Well, I can agree with you on that. But, as someone with plenty of experience in dealing with Ino… just ignore her if she bothers you and she’ll eventually get bored.”

 

Sasuke nodded. “I was planning on it.”

That… was candid. Sakura chucked. To be fair, Sasuke already had lots of experience ignoring her own romantic overtures, so she figured that ignoring Ino was entirely within his capabilities.

 

They made it to his flat soon after, and Sakura couldn’t help but notice that for the first time since this whole disaster began, they hadn’t spent the entire time that they were alone in awkward silence. Just as Sakura was leaving, Sasuke called out to her once more.

“Sakura.”

She turned. “Yes?”

“I appreciate it.”

And that was about the extent of what he was willing to admit to for the day. Sakura softened at his words.

“Oh, Sasuke, you don’t have to thank me for that…”

Sasuke nodded. He was silent for a moment “Whatever. I’m not good at this talking… thing…” He frowned. “Not that I… never mind.” He seemed put out.

Still, Sakura smiled. “For what it’s worth, Sasuke, I thought that the stuff you told us about tea rituals was really interesting.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

Sakura’s cheeks flamed. “I wasn’t lying ! Seriously, Sasuke!”

Sasuke smirked. “If you say so.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “For the record, I am rolling my eyes at you right now. Hard .”

“For the record, I’m about to close the door on you, hard,” Sasuke said.

And he did, leaving a gaping Sakura in his wake.

Wait… Sasuke could… make jokes ?!

 

 

 

Naturally, instead of going home, Sakura ran straight back to Ino’s house immediately in order to rehash what had happened.

 

 

 

“So… that was your plan?” she asked tartly. “Dancing sexily in front of Sasuke? Seriously, Pig?”

Ino laughed. “Aw, come on, Forehead! I told you that what Sasuke needed was a boost to his male ego, and that’s exactly what I provided. Heck yeah!”

“But you could’ve gone about it differently, you dunce!”

“Honestly,” said Ino with an eye-roll. “It’s like you know nothing about the minds of guys, Sakura. A pretty girl flirting with them is like a symbol of status in guy world! Anybody knows that, even Sasuke . It was obvious that he would appreciate my flirting as that at least, if nothing else! And anyway, what else were you expecting me to do when I told you I had a plan? I’m me .”

“Point taken,” Sakura grumbled.

“See?” Ino said proudly. “All’s well that ends well!”

“That’s the point, Ino!” Sakura exclaimed. “Your plan could’ve gone spectacularly wrong. We should be thanking our lucky stars that Sasuke decided to just ignore you and drink tea whilst you frolicked about!”

Ino giggled. “Awww… Come off it, Forehead! It was a good plan!” 

“Yeah, it was a good plan except for the whole dancing sexily at him, Pig!”

“But that was the best part!” Ino exclaimed heartily. “Especially because he didn’t even see me do it…! It was so damn liberating . Plus, he just heard me singing pick up lines at him.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “ Dirty pick up lines.”

“Forehead, you’re a prude if you think that was dirty,” Ino retaliated with a devilish smirk.

“Ino, you’re twelve !”

“True,” said the blonde. “But that reminds me, I’m celebrating my birthday in a week. You better show, Forehead! It’s gonna be a big event since it marks me officially becoming a teenager,” she explained, rubbing her hands gleefully. “The time of marriage proposals has officially arrived!”

Honestly . Sakura rolled her eyes. Clan kids.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be there,” she replied out loud. “But don’t think I can’t see you dodging the topic of your stellar performance for Sasuke-kun .”

Ino laughed. “Firstly: that’s awesome. I’ll tell Daddy to include you in the guest list. And secondly: to be honest, Sakura… I chose to flirt with Sasuke because of what you told me. I even  did so in a playful manner that could be interpreted as simply joking around on purpose, so that I could pay him a compliment without actually having to be all serious about it.”

 

…huh?

 

 

Sakura gaped at her friend. Wow. She really hadn’t considered it like that . But now that she thought about it, what Ino had said was true. With her little song earlier, she had effectively accomplished the one thing that Sakura had tried all these days but had been unable to: she’d managed to give Sasuke a confidence boost. And that had been the point, hadn’t it? Did it really matter how she’d gone about it? By being so outrageous about her flirting, she’d effectively made it into a joke, giving Sasuke complete freedom to put the incident out of his mind, but still implicitly telling him ‘your blindness doesn’t change anything. I still think that you’re crush material’. It was actually a clever tactic. 

“Huh”, Sakura was all she said out loud. 

Ino giggled. “I hate to say this, but… I told you so!”

 

 

Hayate Gekko’s funeral was a quiet affair. From Kakashi’s tree, the gathered crowd looked like a sea of discomfited crows, starkly black against the green grass of the meadow. Some shuffled their feet, others examined them with interest. Kakashi watched them. He knew this scene well, was accustomed to the sight of his colleagues’ silent vigil, still-life, a washed-out oil painting, their death-tailored clothes worn only on the worst days. He was accustomed to the empty expressions: level and composed, postures a white canvas; theirs was a well-learned routine. With masterful ease the jonin below him pretended to ignore the merry song of the cicadas, the balmy summer air and the sounds of training genin in the far distance.

Kakashi had been to many, many funerals. He knew them better than he knew weddings, than he did birthday parties, than he did hospitals even. Lately, he couldn’t bear to stand down there anymore, amongst the crowd of the living. This was one of the (less common) funerals he’d had to attend since leaving ANBU. The amount of jonin present today was a testament to both the devotion they’d all had toward their fallen comrade, but also the late Hayate’s own skill – to have known and befriended as many of the village’s best. None of them cried or made a spectacle. (Jonin never did; death came in their job description.) 

From his vantage point, Kakashi couldn’t see the faces of the crowd – only the back of their heads. Yugao Uzuki’s purple hair stood out like a dull beacon against the backdrop of black uniforms and white headstones – Hayate’s former fiance. Her luscious purple locks were the woman’s trademark, though even from afar, the usually well-groomed strands appeared deadened, with a dull sheen to them.

In that moment, Hayate’s casket was lowered carefully into the ground. Kakashi looked upon his colleague’s face for the last time. Hayate’s death had been in the cards since the very moment the man’s terminal illness was diagnosed, every person present knew that. However, he was supposed to have had at least another half a year to live still. Maybe even an entire year. Kakashi had talked to him recently, back when he and Jiraiya had been looking for Konoha’s secret akatsuki’s spy. Hayate had been in a passable form back then, even if his cough hadn’t sounded very healthy. Still, the man had been alive and kicking, had made an annoyed quip about Kakashi ‘trailing after his favorite author like one of the ninken’, to which Kakashi had replied in kind. He hadn’t bothered with any goodbye besides for a lazy wave. Now Hayate was dead.

Looking away, Kakashi closed his eyes in silent prayer. Hayate, one more name added to his long list.

When his eyes opened again, the majority of the crowd had already left. Yugao Uzuki was still standing before Hayate’s headstone. Kakashi knew that she knew he was there. He deliberated again whether he should leave his encampment and go down. The decision was taken off his hands when someone spoke next to him.

“He left with a bang, that sly dog.”

Kakashi turned. Shikaku Nara stood behind him, hands in his pockets.

“He did.”

Shikaku carefully dropped down to sit next to him. “I reckon it’s what he wanted, huh. He was never one for sitting around; a true man of action.”

“Yes…” Kakashi frowned. What did Shikaku want? “I didn’t know you two were close.”

A snort. “It’s odd, isn’t it? We were drinking buddies. He used to bitch at me about his problems. I complained about the inherent nature of being. You know, the usual.”

Kakashi made a noise of assent.

Shikaku nodded toward the real – toward Yugao Uzuki. “Aren’t you going to talk to her?”

“Should I?”

The Nara shrugged. “Why not? She admires you. Hayate was a little insecure about that in the beginning. I’m sure she’d be happy to hear from you.”

Kakashi shook his head slowly. “In all these years, I have barely said five sentences to her.”

Shikaku frowned. “Ah, yes. I almost forgot. You had that bad experience with her lookalike.”

Kakashi did not tense, did not twitch, did not react.

“That was eleven years ago.”

“Hmmm.” The Nara made a noise of noncommittal. “And yet you still refuse to speak to the real Yugao.”

“I don’t refuse to do anything. We simply haven’t coincided, that’s all.”

“ Hmmm .”

They both watched the headstone a few meters below them in silence. In a few minutes, the sun would likely begin to set. Kakashi once again pondered whether he should say something to the re – to Yugao Uzuki. She already knew he had attended the funeral and they were strangers; what would he even say? He couldn’t think of anything. ‘My condolences?’ Empty, dead words. Words he hated, practically a trigger. No, he would not tell her that. But what else was there to say? He had avoided the woman for so long. He didn’t really want to speak to her.

“You really think she’d appreciate it?” Kakashi asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

He caught Hayate’s former fiance as she was turning to leave. More precisely, he stood at the end of the field, eyes on the headstone, as Yugao turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

Kakashi returned the gesture and, not knowing what else to do, began to walk away. Shikaku caught up with him. They walked in silence.

“You feel up for getting a drink?”

Kakashi turned toward the other man when he broke it. His eye narrowed imperceptibly. “What do I owe the invitation to?”

Shikaku shrugged. “Just thought of something. We could go to the shogi salon instead if you’d prefer. Or someplace else.”

He was met with an assessing glance. Kakashi remembered Shikaku’s intrigued look a few days ago. It was possible that the man had decided he was worth pursuing a friendship with. He could also be after something else or this could be a subtle way to get Kakashi alone without raising suspicion, a way to impart some important piece of knowledge in the capacity of jonin commander. Kakashi hesitated. He didn’t like any of the options, but if it was the third…

“Alright,” he said. “Lead the way.”

Shikaku nodded. “Any preference on where to?”

A shrug. They walked in silence until they made it to the Nara lands. Thankfully, the man didn’t lead Kakashi to his house, steering them toward the forest instead. He turned, eyeing Kakashi lazily, then the forest.

“Feeling up for a walk?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’ve never been here before.”

That was a lie – he’d made a point to chart every single part of Konoha, to know it all by memory. However, the Nara forests were notoriously dangerous to intruders and hard to get into undetected, by all rights, his lie should be the truth.

Shikaku only nodded. Kakashi wondered whether the non-reaction was because he didn’t know he had lied or because he did.

They walked sedately into the black woods. Kakashi took in a deep breath. He could smell deer close by but none showed. The foliage was thick and dark in the twilight. Leaves crunched softly beneath their sandals.

“I think we have a spy,” Shikaku said after a while.

“A spy?”

“Yes.” The jonin commander didn’t elaborate.

“Hmmm,” said Kakashi, once the silence stretched on. “Could be.” Shikaku was notoriously keen. If whatever evidence he had collected had led him to this conclusion, then it was most likely true.

“I know intelligence should be dealing with this,” the Nara elaborated after a while. “But I couldn’t help but toss it around my head as well. Is it a plant or a runner that we have? A plant seems more likely… but then, how do we weed them out?”

Kakashi remained silent. He was beginning to see where this was going – and he didn’t like it.

“Aren’t they?” he said at last.

“Sorry?”

“Aren’t the guys at intelligence dealing with this issue?”

Shikaku slanted him a glance. “They are. I am looking into it on my own time.”

Kakashi closed his eyes, reopened them, kept walking steadily, gaze ahead. “If my tracking expertise is needed, I will help you find our plant.”

“But we’d need a face and a name for that,” Shikaku mused. “So no, it’s not needed.”. Kakashi made no comment. “There’s another kind of experience though…” They were silent again. “Damn,” Shikaku muttered. “You’re a tough nut to crack, eh?”

Kakashi weighed the pros and cons of pulling out his book. “Last I checked, I was still a human being.”

The Nara smirked wryly, then shook his head. They both knew where the conversation was going, and that Kakashi was doing his level best to avoid it. “Intelligence is taking a look at possible candidates. They’re out of ideas… but seeing you today, I remembered.” Shikaku’s whole attention seemed to hone in on him; a black hole. They stopped walking. “You have experience with them – sleeper agents. Plants. Spies.”

Once again, Kakashi didn’t react. So, he thought, Shikaku had revealed his hand at last…

“I wouldn’t call failing to recognize them before it was too late ‘a lot of experience’”, he replied carefully.

Shikaku didn't say anything to that. He paused, plucked out a large, exotic-looking fruit from a tree and started chewing on it. “Hmmm, delicious. Want one?” Kakashi shook his head. “Ah, well. Your loss.”

Another silence, this one stretching on for almost five minutes, interrupted only by the faint sounds of chewing. By the time Shikaku was done eating, he seemed to also be done stalling. He’d clearly thought of a different approach, for he said:

“You know, I never agreed with it. They call you the copy nin, but it seems like a bad fit. Copy – it reminds me of cheating in a test. Or of a lesson memorized and regurgitated, but not understood to its crux. And that’s not who the copy nin is. Being able to memorize something upon a glance, that’s what any sharingan could do. But being able to internalize and comprehend its mechanisms, mastering the material to its fullest extent – no one I’ve met but you could do that, sharingan or no. You don’t copy …you appropriate.”

Kakashi had never liked flattery; it usually precluded manipulation. He frowned. “I… fail to see how this is relevant.”

“No thank you for the compliment?” Shikaku tsked. “Never mind. My point is… you saw a spy once. The sharingan is irrelevant here. You saw it, you understood it, you learned the lesson, copied the pattern. See where I’m going?”

Kakashi did. “You think I’d be able to identify the spy based on my past experience.”

“Yes.” They stared at each other.

“No,” he replied. “The answer is no.” With these words, the copy nin resumed walking.

After a moment, Shikaku caught up. “Why ever not?”

Kakashi strode on in silence. The balmy air was alleviated by a night breeze that tugged at his hair. A dormouse scurried up a nearby tree stem a few paces to the side, its fuzzy coat soft and small, almost invisible in the light of dusk. Leaves rustled somewhere behind them, a small hare or fox, if he had to guess. Shikaku’s footsteps followed the sound of his own, a steady rhythm – quiet but there.

“The Yugao Uzuki I knew was not the type to be a spy,” Kakashi said.

Shikaku turned, looking at him in that steady, thoughtful way of his. “The spy you knew was, by definition, a spy.”

Kakashi didn’t reply to that. “ANBU’s protocol has been revised thoroughly since then,” he said instead. “It wouldn’t have been able to happen a second time. My – the…” he frowned.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. The spy, the Yugao Uzuki I was familiar with, would’ve never passed a standard identity check-up from today. They’d have caught on immediately. Her disguise was flimsy. Had holes. She didn’t even look much like the real Yugao Uzuki beyond the hair and eye color, which can easily be changed.”

Shikaku’s eyebrow arched. “And yet you never caught on? Nor your other teammates? Doesn’t really add up.”

Kakashi frowned. “It was so bad that it was good. Her… deception, I mean. No one in our team knew her from before she joined ANBU, and no one outside of it saw her face. All of her papers checked out, even the picture on her ID had been modified. It was as simple as that. And besides, she was bad at subterfuge. Really bad.”

“So what are you saying? We should look for people who pretend to be idiots?”

“No. I’m saying ask someone else.”

“But why?”

“Because this – she – wasn’t a habitual spy. Never pretended at anything. She wasn’t the type to do that. She was bad at social things – awkward. Almost as bad as me at making friends. Never tried to climb the ranks.”

“So she deliberately held back?”

“ No . She just didn’t… but she held herself to a high standard. I think… no, I know she had cared about us. Wherever she came from, whatever she did, I don’t think it made her happy. She liked it better with us – with our team.”

Shikaku frowned. “Sounds like she was a brilliant actress then.”

Kakashi’s eye narrowed. “No. It was… – this isn’t the point. Whatever I may tell you is clearly biased anyway.”

Shikaku shook his head, stopped to examine a plant and pick some herbs. Kakashi waited a few meters ahead, leaning against a tree trunk.

“You’ve already given me some ideas of what to look for,” the Nara head informed him whilst he pulled a bag out to store the herbs.

“Which may be entirely off. What you should look for is someone else to question on this subject.”

“But right now, I’m talking to you.” Shikaku cracked his neck, once, then again. “An excess in information is always better than a lack thereof, if you ask me.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

They resumed their walk, but the silence was stilted and oppressing.

In the end, Kakashi spoke up: “she had purple hair. Dyed, obviously. Pimples.”

Shikaku arched a brow. “Pimples?”

Kakashi grinned wryly. “Everywhere. One of our teammates was always scolding her for her bad eating habits. Hence the pimples. Not that anyone could’ve seen them, with the ANBU mask.”

“You were all in the same ANBU unit?”

“Yes. The team from back then was…” It had been the first team that had accepted him since – since Rin. Since Obito. “It was a good team.”

“What happened to them?” Shikaku asked. “Any former members who’d answer any questions?”

“No.”

The Nara winced, but Kakashi barely noticed. Initially, he hadn’t been exactly excited for the new team assignments. His last colleagues had been butchered two weeks prior and once again only he was left. 

.

.

.

This was going to be his second ANBU team, and he was already dreading it. He had put off going back to HQ for as long as he could, but he knew he’d have to be there for the reassignments.

“Runnin’ late, Inu!” someone jeered after him. Not reacting, he continued on.

There were many agents inside the locker room. Some of them he knew, many of them he didn’t, but most of them were nearly finished prepping for the upcoming day. A high percentage of them were gawking at him and whispering. No doubt the news of his previous team had spread fast. At some point, this might have affected Kakashi more, but lately all he felt was an odd emptiness in his gut.

After some time, nearly everyone had left the lockers. Kakashi welcomed the solitude. There was one person though who continued shooting glances at him out of the corner of their eye and it was putting him on edge.

“What?” he asked.

The person tensed.

“Nothing.” It was a girl, really scrawny but still taller than him – though that wasn’t saying much, he grumbled to himself. There weren’t many of those in ANBU – girls. Also, her hair was really weird.

A few years ago, Kakashi might’ve been curious about this girl. She hadn’t even acted like he was about to stab her through the chest yet. As it was, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Without a backward glance, he strode out of the room; shoulders hunched, gaze cast down.

.

.

.

 

“And you say she cast glances at you? That’s suspicious.”

Kakashi gave Shikaku a droll look. “No. Everyone did. It’d have been stranger if she hadn’t.”

.

.

.

 

“Inu. You’re late.”

“Sorry,” Kakashi apologized. It felt odd, being in Obito’s shoes. He wondered what the captain would say if he knew he’d been late on purpose.

“Well, don’t do it again, will you?” His new captain sighed. “Now that that’s settled, we can hopefully get on with our day. As I was saying, this will be a provisional configuration for our team placements this season and blah, blah, blah…” Kakashi listened to him but the words barely registered. He watched as his new future teammates introduced themselves… just like those last year. He wondered how long it would take until he had to do this again.

 Examining them, he noted that he knew most of them by sight except the girl with the purple hair, though he remembered her from the locker rooms that morning. She must be new.

Quietly, he listened to the proceedings as introductions went on.

“...next.”

“Code name's Ahiru. I’d say I’m a multi-purpose kinda guy: I can defend, I can attack, and I can blow stuff up!”

“And your weakness?”

“Eh, my dashing good looks.”

“Right.” The captain said drolly. “I think we can all tell what your weakness is. Next?”

“I’m Gacho. I’m good at seducing perverted old men and also at running away fast enough to save my hide. My weakness is my temper. Especially when idiots are involved.” Gacho glanced pointedly at Ahiru.

Kame looked on bemusedly. “That was candid, but true enough. Next.”

And then, in the ensuing silence, Kakashi realized that it was his turn. He hesitated. Try as he might, he could only think of the many things he’d done wrong… after all, he was friend killer Kakashi . By the oppressive silence, he knew that they were all thinking it. He gritted his teeth.

“Inu. My strength is… tracking.” The sharingan wasn’t his to claim, the chidori incomplete without it. “My weakness is that I burn through my chakra reserves quickly.”

No one said anything.

Awkwardly, they all turned toward the only remaining person, the purple-haired rookie.

She stood up. Even though she looked outwardly calm, Kakashi could tell from her smell that she was very nervous… and also because she accidentally knocked her knees against the table.

Thud!

Everyone stared at her. Flushing, the girl bowed awkwardly. “Um. I’m Neko. My strength is…” There was a silence. “…er.” She stared at the wall. “My weakness is definitely kenjutsu though. My forms are very basic, I lack finesse… and my hyper-extended elbow is a definite weak spot and blah, blah, blah–” She began to rant about possible corrections to her kenjutsu form, listing her flaws on and on until the captain took pity on all parties involved and interrupted her.

“Ahem. Thank you Neko. I think we get the gist of it.”

Neko nodded and hurriedly sat, this time managing to accidentally kick Ahiru’s shin under the table. 

“…sorry.”

Everyone stared at her. 

Ahiru shook his head with bafflement. “Yikes, girl, warn a guy next time.”

Neko nodded awkwardly… it was sort of painful to watch. Kakashi was pretty sure they were all thinking the same thing: how did she even get into ANBU?

.

.

.

“So what happened afterward?” Shikaku queried. “She was a spy. Obviously this must’ve been a deception tactic. Hella weird, I’ll give you that. But still.”

Kakashi shot him a side-glance. “We got paired up,” he informed. “Much against my own wishes.”

.

.

.

“Inu, you’re with Yugao today,” the captain said.

“Who?” Kakashi asked.

“Ah, Neko. The newbie.”

He should’ve known. Kakashi mentally sighed, feeling bad for the Yugao girl already. And for himself.

“Captain,” Yugao piped up uneasily. “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“And why not?” inquired Kame.

“Um, well, you see…” she nodded toward Kakashi, “his mask depicts a dog. Mine’s a cat. We’d have zero chemistry.”

Ahiru guffawed, Gacho had the decency to hold back her snort. Kakashi felt a spark of annoyance flare up in his gut. Rude. The girl was rude.

Meanwhile, Kame scratched his cheek. “Se… right. Masks are just symbolic: here in ANBU we make a point of developing good teamwork skills with every one of our peers so you’ll have to pair up anyway.”

Curiously, the authoritative tone seemed to do it. At his words, Yugao had straightened like a flag pole. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” said Kame. “If that’s settled, let’s split up.”

As they strode out, Kakashi turned toward his new ‘partner’. He did have to agree with her on one account: their partnership was definitely not meant to be. He was still annoyed at her behavior. It was obvious she was pulling shit out of her ass to try and avoid friend killer Kakashi. He should’ve seen it coming, he chastised himself. The other team had been exactly the same. Why had he expected otherwise?

“Let’s go,” he grumbled sullenly.

Yugao’s body-language was withdrawn, but she followed along.

“What will we be doing?” 

.

.

.

“What did you suggest?” Shikaku questioned with interest.

Kakashi shrugged. “Truth be told, there were a number of different training exercises we could have done to build some teamwork. As it was, I figured if Yugao was going to be rude then so could I.”

.

.

.

“Why, sparring practice of course,” Kakashi had told her with a close-eyed smile. “With our katana. Wasn’t that your favorite?”

.

.

.

“You were kind of petty,” Shikaku commented.

“Never claimed otherwise.”

.

.

.

Kakashi had been expecting Yugao to complain. To call him out on being an ass. To throw a hissy fit and accuse him of being uncooperative. Well – she did none of those things. It was a given that she wasn’t exactly thrilled by his suggestion, scowling at him like a drowned cat, but beyond that she didn’t react.

“Fine.” She unsheathed her blade with surprising deftness. “Let’s go.”

Initially, Kakashi had been meaning to give her the advantage of the first move, but something about her stance, about the change in her posture, which had gone from taut and uncomfortable to focused… it compelled him to take this seriously from the start.

Gripping his blade, Kakashi studied his opponent. Something within her had shifted. It was the strangest feeling, but Kakashi was overcome with the impression that Yugao wasn’t afraid of him… which was actually really odd, considering her earlier attempt to avoid him. But before he had time to ponder this she struck, lightning quick. It was a blow that almost caught him off guard by its fast execution, but Kakashi was nothing if not proficient at kenjutsu. He parried. She circled around him and attacked his flank. Kakashi ducked, chancing a sweeping kick even as he prepared to put all of his weight into the follow up blow… and so, the spar began.

All told, it was definitely not at all what Kakashi had expected, lasting beyond the one minute mark, then the two minute mark, then it had been five minutes… As they fought, Kakashi could tell that all those flaws she’d mentioned during her introduction were indeed there – her form had cracks, just as she’d described – but where he had pictured a flailing klutz incapable of stringing two blows together, Yugao was…. most definitely not. Her forms were sloppy. Whoever had taught her definitely hadn’t cared much about style – but no one could claim she was easy to beat. Lithe and quick on her toes, she had an almost uncanny ability to get out of tight situations and avoid or deflect blows that should by all rights have hit. Even when Kakashi had upped his attacks, she resisted. He could press her as much as he liked, she’d find a way to weather the blow. Most importantly, when she saw an opening or even the faint suggestion of one, Yugao pounced on it at once. She may not be really refined, but anyone with arm strength, good coordination and a katana could be dangerous, even if their forms weren’t the best. Yugao was a prime example of that.

As the shadows advanced over the earth and the sun through the sky, Kakashi could feel himself tire. Sweat was drenching his uniform, his forehead, the hilt of his katana, and his breathing became more and more labored as the spar wore on. But he wasn’t about to quit – though from the looks of it, neither was she. Dammit. To Kakashi’s relief, she looked just as tired as him, if not more. Her face was completely red and her hair was sticking to her neck and forehead. What she la owe for in technique, she had to make up for in strength and speed – and it showed.

Thankfully, after what felt like hours of a continuous back and forth, he managed to get the best of her and send her katana flying.

“Guess – I win – huh?” he panted out.

Yugao was too busy gasping for breath to give a coherent answer. They remained like that for a few minutes. She had the drowned cat expression again – that one between a pout and a scowl. Kakashi couldn’t help but relish the victory. It had been hard-earned, but that just made it better. The desire to lord it over her was there, and had he been twelve still, he would’ve done so. At fifteen, he held back (barely) in favor of catching his breath.

“You know, it’s kind of weird,” he said after a while. “You were right in all the things you said earlier, during your introduction.”

The scowl intensified. “And what’s so weird about that?”

“The weird part is that it still took me so long to knock you on your – uh. Beat you.”

Yugao stared at him. Kakashi stared back. “You know what’s weird here? You.”

That said, Yugao proceeded to get up, walk across the training ground and then belly flop into its lake. All of this like her actions were completely normal. Kakashi stared.

“Uh… are you… okay?” he asked her. He was the weird one? 

Yugao resurfaced, looking significantly less scowly, and gave him a shrug. “You said you’re a tracker, right?”

“Right.”

“So I have no desire to listen to you yap about me smelling bad or whatnot.”

This said, she proceeded to dive into the water again and continue ignoring him. Kakashi forcefully shut his gaping mount. He was actually… pretty happy with that arrangement.

“...I feel obligated to tell you that that entire interaction made no sense.”

Kakashi gave Shikaku an ‘I told you so’ smile. “Not very spy-like, ne?”

The jonin commander frowned. “I wouldn’t say that just yet. I’d need more data. Did you ever talk to her beyond telling her she was weird?”

“We did talk sometimes – after spars. Mostly about the spars themselves, sometimes about random things like – I don’t know. Just think of some really random and out there fact about some other random thing – we probably talked about it at some point.”

“So… did you ever have any conversations that could actually lead to something? Like, you know. What a spy might have actually been interested in?”

Kakashi cocked his head. “Not as such… ”

Shikaku looked at him questioningly. “Meaning… what, exactly?”

Despite their frequent and random talks after inevitably getting paired up for spars, Kakashi and Yugao never strayed into personal territory. Of course, this was perfectly fine by Kakashi, but he still noticed. Because Yugao was a girl. Weren’t girls supposed to be more… uh. Well, different? Open? More touchy-feely? It wasn’t often that he found someone as reluctant to talk about themselves as him. It was… sort of… it threw him off kilter.

On the rare occasion, however, Yugao would open up a little. These instances changed her completely. Her face would light up and she’d seem lively and… not Yugao-ish. Unfortunately, these were rare. Kakashi was starting to find her behavior increasingly puzzling.

Some of the other girls in ANBU eventually recruited her into their clique, but even then, he always saw her sitting silently in a corner and looking awkward. Kakashi was beginning to realize that, while he got to see the talkative side of Yugao once in a blue moon or so, it was still more than anyone else saw.

Days blurred into weeks and weeks piled up into months. Yugao continued being a constant presence in Kakashi’s periphery – not shy, just quiet. Withdrawn, sometimes a little sullen, though very spirited during spars. Day by day, a bond began to form between the members of team Kame.

It started with Ahiru bringing a gift basket filled with trashy foods, and ended with the basket empty and Yugao’s face becoming a pimple-factory within the span of a few days. This was followed by a long rant on Kame’s part to watch their calories, Gacho cutting in that it was all Ahiru’s fault, and Ahiru trying to convince Yugao that she should just wear a mask like Kakashi did and – problem solved! Kame cut in that the pimples weren’t the issue here… though the mask might not be such a terrible idea. Kakashi had promptly said that they could try to touch his mask and see what happened . Gacho had insisted that a mask would only aggravate the problem; they would need to buy Yugao pimple lotions. Meanwhile, Yugao very deliberately, very slowly, tried to hide the stash of chocolate bars she’d been hoarding… and was promptly almost mauled by a horrified Gacho upon discovery. All in all, it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Not that Kakashi had been particularly well versed in the art of not coming across as an asshole at that age, but Yugao took social cluelessness to a new level. Once, they had gone eating out after a trying mission in the desert and she’d surprised everyone with her disregard for table manners: the first offense had been that she’d begun to eat without waiting for anyone else, going as far as to skip the typical ‘itadakimasu’ entirely. The second was the way she scarfed down the food – as though afraid it’d disappear in ten seconds flat. Well, let’s just say it garnered her some horrified stares and an earful from Gacho.

Another time, they’d been pretending to be merchants whilst actually serving as body-guards for a big name in the trading industry and his wife. Once again, Yugao had managed to mortify everyone by sitting on the carriage in a fashion that… was not very lady-like. At all. Plopping down next to Kakashi, she’d sprawled her legs open without decorum as she glanced out of the window, thereby accidentally giving the client a nosebleed and sending his wife into a tizzy. Naturally, everyone else on the team had nearly had a stroke.

Her… posture did turn out to be somewhat beneficial, since one of the ambushers who’d been trailing them had choked out of surprise, thereby revealing his location and allowing the team to dispatch the threat. In Kakashi’s book, it had been absolutely hilarious and sort of endearing, but everyone else was rather mortified with Yugao, who had been so embarrassed by their reactions that she’d blushed like an overripe tomato all the way back.

However, as more time passed, her oddities slowly but surely began to disappear, turning into nothing but funny anecdotes. Posture, table manners, dress codes were quickly changed to fit social expectations, to the point where the only offending thing about her were the pimples. And the hair. Perhaps the biggest change was her demeanor itself. She had become more open, sometimes even making witty remarks when it was just them, and most notably: had begun to smile every now and then. To those who may not have known her from the very beginning, the change might not have been apparent – simply a product of receding shyness – but Kakashi was certain something else was at work. But what?

“Well, now you know,” remarked Shikaku dryly.

Kakashi gave him a distant look. “No, not really. It’s been eleven years, and I still don’t know anything.”

“How do you figure?”

“No one knows what was taken, nor who she worked for or why she was here. By all accounts, she didn’t take anything at all – except sandaime-sama was very sure of it. Still… everything was in order and no enemy nations ever seemed to find out any critical pieces of intelligence on us. You say she was a spy, and yet we don’t even know what she was doing here. And there’s more.”

Shikaku’s eyebrow rose. “More?”

“Yes.”

Kakashi finally found out something personal about Yugao in the worst possible situation. It had been a standard escort mission close to the border of Iwa when it all went to hell. Their team had been ambushed; they were surrounded and outnumbered and with no prospects of making it out alive.

“Take the client and get out of here!” Kame shouted. “Inu!”

Kakashi didn’t listen. He wasn’t one to abandon his teammates. Team Kame was the first to see him as something more than friend killer Kakashi and he would not let them die, not now. Never.

He took the client and shoved him into the arms of Gacho.

“Get him to safety! I’ll hold them off!”

But they didn’t make it. One moment Gacho had a head and then she didn’t. The client she’d been about to whisk off started to scream; Gacho’s bubbly read blood splattering all over the hysterical merchant and Kakashi’s uniform, and he knew that it had been his fault for distracting her–

But he knew one more thing: they would pay.

“ Chidori! ” 

Forgetting about the client, Kakashi pounced upon Gacho’s murderer, and then he kept going on and on until he could barely stand, ducking and weaving through the throng of fighting bodies, stabbing, killing, electrocuting, and then–

“Kakashi watch out!” Yugao’s yell was the last thing he heard, then there was a sharp pain in the back of his head–

Kakashi woke up an undetermined amount of time later in a grimy prison cell. He sat up carefully, trying to ignore his throbbing headache and the chakra exhaustion nipping at his eyelids. Hunger gnawed in his gut and he was quite certain that he’d sprained his right ankle – or worse.

“Kakashi? Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he managed.

There was a shaky exhale. “About time, you, you…” He placed the voice as Yugao’s, though it sounded very… like she was almost, er. Crying. Kakashi tried to peer through the darkness. A hand poking through the bars of the cell adjacent to his own was waving at him, and he quickly dragged himself over. The two cells were separated by cold, black bars, and the owner of the hand was Yugao. She was thin enough that her wrist fit through the bars.

Drawing closer, he examined her intently. Injured, but so was he.

“Yugao. What happened? Where is everyone?”

There was a long silence.

“Oi. Say something.”

Yugao wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

…Kakashi felt his world shatter around him.

No . Not again. Please not again.

“Where is everyone?” he repeated. “Tell me!”

Yugao’s lower lip trembled.

“Say it!”

“Gone,” she said dully. “They’re gone.”

Kakashi stared at her. No. No… she was mistaken. Team Kame had been extremely skilled – there was no way.

“You must have missed something.”

Yugao stared at him. “I…  hope you’re right. I hope it was just a genjutsu. I’m bad at those. Maybe Ahiru got the drop on them and it didn’t really happen. Maybe I just…”

“Happen? What happened?”

She stared at the floor. She looked ashamed. “After you passed out, we tried to flee. Kame was… he was… burnt alive. Ahiru’s neck…” she heaved. “…I didn’t see what happened to Gacho.” Yugao’s voice pitched hopefully. “She must’ve escaped like she always does. With the client.”

Now it was Kakashi’s turn to be silent.

“Kakashi?”

“No,” he croaked. “No. Gacho didn’t make it.”

It was my fault; he wanted to say. But the words wouldn’t leave his lips. I distracted her.

He didn’t have the strength to look up and see the horror in Yugao’s eyes.

“It was an Iwa prison, maximum security,” Kakashi explained. “You might know of it. Iwa’s Silent Gallows?” 

Shikaku winced sympathetically. “Damn.”

His respect for Kakashi, if anything, had only increased during their conversation. The man talked about his past experiences in an almost nonchalant manner – factual, impressively detailed for things a decade past – and detached. Kakashi very clearly didn’t want to revisit whatever had happened during the time he had known the spy, but his loyalty to Konoha, the urge he must feel to help where he could, had loosened the jonin’s usually sealed lips. Shikaku knew that this was a unique opportunity to gain insight into the man’s character – insight and intelligence.

“And you’re sure Yugao didn’t betray you to the ambushers?” he asked curiously. “Sounds like that might’ve been her aim.”

Kakashi shook his head. “No. For one, if they had known who I was, the first thing they’d have done was operate the sharingan out of me the second they could, then torture me to insanity. For another, Yugao was right there with me the entire time, in the cell next to mine. I don’t think anyone would’ve stayed there voluntarily.”

Shikaku frowned. Kakashi’s argument was sound, but Yugao had been a spy – a case still studied by the infiltration preventing units to this day – even if the only available report on the story, Kakashi’s own, had been sealed as an SSS-class secret. Shikaku had always been curious about what really had happened, how someone could’ve gotten the drop on ANBU . This curiosity had only increased tenfold after his chat with Inoichi the other day. Why had Kakashi’s report been sealed with maximum security clearance? Now that he was hearing the original story from the source, he couldn’t help but be confused. It was interesting, but for the moment, Yugao didn’t sound all that dangerous or like a huge security risk. She wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all.

He cast Kakashi a glance. “So… the silent gallows, huh? Must’ve been blessedly quiet, at least.”

Kakashi shrugged. “The prison’s name was coined ironically, I think. Its torture and execution chambers were in a patio in the middle of the building. You could say that the sound carried over quite well….”

Kakashi remembered his cell well, even after all these years. It had been dank and stuffy, the floor wet and grime-covered. Any food had been sparse, broth-like and disgusting; the encroaching cold everywhere, darkness his only constant. Despite all the training he had received precisely to prepare him for this type of situation, he’d barely been able to stand it. The hunger, his very bones freezing into stiffness, the smell that even his mask couldn’t repel, the knowledge that he wouldn’t stop shivering even in his dreams, that he may never get to eat a warm meal again…  The worst part, however, was the constant waiting.

For death, for torture… for anything to happen. Worst case scenarios kept flitting through his mind. He barely dared to hope, but that happened as well, when he was at his lowest. Would someone come for them? Would a rescue party be dispatched? Would they be exchanged for other war prisoners?

Time seemed to slow and stretch, compounding into one big, gray goo of stillness that seemed endless, larger than life.

“Are you still there?”

Ah, yes, there was that as well. Sometimes, either he or Yugao would check whether the other was still… Kakashi didn’t know. Alive? Conscious? Not clinically insane?

“Yes,” he told her, scooting over to the bars connecting their cell. “Still around.”

“That’s… good.”

He made a noise of assent in the back of his throat and mirrored her position leaning the bars; a futile attempt of sharing heat. He didn’t know how it had started, but sometimes, when they were sitting like this, they would talk. There was nothing enjoyable about their situation, but talking at least made things more bearable; kept his mind engaged.

“Say,” he ventured on one occasion. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you…” he began. “Why did you stare at me when we first met?”

It was random, and he himself didn’t even know where that had come from. He was quite infamous within the village – and not in a good way – so the reason for her staring was obvious. And yet he still asked.

“I…” Yugao seemed at a loss for words for a long time. “I had… I…”

“Yes?”

“I… I… I knew Minato.” 

She blurted it out suddenly, completely out of nowhere, and Kakashi felt himself freeze.

“What?”

There was no telling what Yugao’s expression was, her voice had an odd lilt to it.

“Yes, I… well, I… worked under him for a while. He… he ranted about you sometimes. That’s why I was staring, I guess… though I didn’t realize I was doing it. I tried not to.”

Thud, thud, thud. 

“You… you knew my sensei?”

“I did.”

“And he talked about me?” What would Minato have said about him? Would he have been proud? Disappointed? Disgusted?

“Yeah…” Yugao murmured, oblivious. “He was the biggest chatterbox sometimes.”

“He was.”

There was a silence.

“How come you worked for him?” Kakashi continued, unable to contain his curiosity. Yugao had to be around his age and Minato had died almost three years ago.

“It was… I can’t talk about it,” Yugao replied after a beat. “It’s classified. But… I could tell you some anecdotes of that time, if you… if you would like.”

“ Yes .” Kakashi didn’t need to think twice about it. 

“Well… alright.” She paused. “He had this habit of being obnoxiously cheerful at the worst possible moments” She chuckled. “I think he purposefully exaggerated it sometimes, to get a reaction out of me. He thought it was funny when I… pouted, according to him. I don’t pout, obviously.”

Kakashi almost asked her what the hell the drowned cat expression she made sometimes was then, but he managed to hold it in.

“He liked doing that; ruffling my feathers. He didn’t mean anything bad by it, but it took me a while to understand that. He kept doing things that threw me for a loop, and I’m pretty sure that was on purpose.”

“But didn’t you work under him?” Kakashi asked. 

“Exactly! He was the freaking kage, I literally would have expected anything from working under him but what I actually got: his penchant to use the hokage hat as a fruit bowl. His habit of trying to bake sweets while doing paperwork which inevitably ended up setting something on fire, and worst of all – those horrible tongue twisters he used as passwords… God, and don’t even get me started on the puns …”

Kakashi knew in that instant that she wasn’t lying. He didn't’ need to have been there to know that that described Minato to a T.

“‘Shout out to the people who ask what the opposite of ‘in’ is,’” he recalled wistfully.

Yugao snickered. “Ah. That one was one of his go-to icebreakers. Remember this one? ‘A windmill asks another ‘what’s your favorite kind of music?’ And the other replies: ‘I’m a big metal fan’’.”

Kakashi snorted. “Did he ever tell you the one where the past, the present and the future walk into a bar?”

“Unfortunately , I was spared.”

“Alright, well. What happens when the past, the present and the future walk into a bar?…It gets tense.”

She snorted. “And did he ever tell you about how ‘6:30 is the best time on a clock, hands down’? Because I swear if I had heard it one more time back then, I would’ve broken something.”

Kakashi grinned, reminiscing. “Yeah. I remember once we had to complete a mission at the Uchiha Police Headquarters and he kept making puns about police officers; it was horrible.”

Yugao chocked. “What? He seriously had the nerve to do that?”

“He did…” Kakashi said. “I don’t really remember what all he told them, just Fugaku’s grimace. Wait, no… there was this pun… how did it go? ‘Police were called to a daycare center where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.’”

“Wow. It’s so bad it’s funny.”

“So. Like every other pun he ever made?”

Yugao grinned. “Pretty much. Well, I doubt the police officers would agree.”

Kakashi nodded. “You should’ve seen their faces. Especially when he told them this other one… ‘someone has stolen all the toilets and the police have nothing to go on.’”

“Oh my… what.” She snickered. “I would give all my money to see that.”

Kakashi cracked a grin. “It was pretty hilarious, even though at the time, I was busy trying to pretend that I didn’t know him.”

“And Fugaku let you guys leave the headquarters alive? How?!”

“He did. I think he was amused, actually,” Kakashi confided. “To be fair, Sensei always managed to get on people’s good side somehow.”

“That he did. But seriously, Uchiha Fugaku, amused by bad puns? That just… someone should’ve given him a medal for that one.”

 

 

 

“The fourth’s larger than life personality was pretty famous,” Shikaku interjected. “She could’ve been lying.”

Kakashi exhaled. “No.” 

 

“Time flies like an arrow,” Yugao’s voice whispered. “And fruit flies like bananas.”

Kakashi’s eyebrows scrunched. When he understood the terrible pun, he snorted. “I think that’s the worst one yet.”

“I think the police officers’ toilet seat one was even worse still. Or better. You know what I mean.”

Kakashi smiled to himself. Another long silence. Then, “why did the can crusher quit his job?” Yugao stared at him blankly. “Because it was soda pressing.”

 

“No? How would you know? Spies can be incredibly good liars.” 

Kakashi shook his head. “There are some things that can only be gleaned on a personal level. Sensei didn’t act the same way around everyone. There were some facets of his character that he only showed to a handful of people.”

“And she was one of them? C’mon, Kakashi. This is the forth we’re talking about,” Shikaku said dubiously.

“I know. But I remain by what I said – Yugao knew Sensei.” She had known his sense of humor and the nuances of his character. She had . “Our conversation in that cell proved it to me.”

 

They kept shooting Minato’s bad puns back and forth in hilariously monotonous voices, and that was enough for a while. If someone ever asked Hatake Kakashi whether he knew any puns or practical jokes, he would’ve sworn up and down that he didn’t, but in the darkness of that cell, his pride was cast to the wayside. Eventually, however, it stopped being even mildly entertaining – and then they went back to the awful silence, to the hunger and the cold.

 

“Yugao,” Kakashi asked another time, wanting to keep talking about Minato. She had already recounted a lot of anecdotes, but Kakashi wanted more. “How long did you work for him?”

There was no need to clarify who he was asking about.

“Hmm…” she paused thoughtfully. “I didn’t work for him constantly. It was more like… a free-lance thing? He’d ask for me sometimes, and then I’d get sent to his office and that was that. But it wasn’t like an everyday job… if I had to say how long though… well. I met him for the first time during the war, but we didn’t really coincide until he became hokage, so… around two years?”

“I see…” said Kakashi quietly. More silence. “I was in his ANBU guard,” he revealed after a moment’s thought. “But I never saw you.”

“Ah, well…” Yugao muttered uncomfortably. “Maybe he sent a clone to meet with me? Or left one at his desk pretending to work?”

“He ditched his ANBU guard?” Kakashi asked with horror.

“Er… are you really that surprised?” Yugao ventured. “I mean… hiraishin… hello?”

Kakashi frowned deeply. “Still, I can’t believe he did that! He should’ve said something. Not that I think you’d do anything bad – I mean, if he roped you into baking muffins with him he must’ve trusted you. But still…”

“Well yeah, he trusted me with getting covered in flour so he could laugh at me. Fantastic bonding experience if you ask me.”

“What exactly happened?” Kakashi asked with interest. “I mean, knowing your sweet tooth, I’m not entirely sure I believe your version.”

Yugao gave him her classic  scowl. “Why don’t you share some stories for once?” 

“Fair enough,” Kakashi said, but he’d rather she keep talking. “Don’t be surprised if I bore you to tears though.”

“I don’t remember the last time I cried, but feel free to give me your best shot.”

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi sighed, resigned, and tried to think of some anecdote to recount.

“There was this one time during a courier mission,” he settled on at last. “I was just minding my own business when Sensei found this… rock.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It was a piece of crystallized amber, he said, and he fawned over it all the way back to the village,” Kakashi recounted. “He kept insisting that it symbolized the will of fire and that it was the same color as Kushina’s hair – she was still his girlfriend at the time – but I honestly couldn’t see it. I mean, it was just a rock.” Here Yugao rolled her eyes at him, but Kakashi continued: “I told Sensei as much, but he didn’t care, of course. For some reason, don’t ask me why, he’d gotten it into his head that he wanted to give the rock turned necklace to Kushina, even though I kept telling him that it wouldn’t be an exactly flattering gift.”

“Huh,” said Yugao. “You were such a charmer.”

Huffing, Kakashi pretended not to have heard her. “Anyway, it turned out that the rock was too fragile to carve a hole through it in the normal way, so Sensei came up with this chakra drill-like jutsu just so he could put a clean hole through it.”

“Wait,” said Yugao suspiciously. “Chakra drill jutsu? That sounds…”

“Yeah,” Kakashi told her dryly. “It later became known as the rasengan. You know, the S-rank technique feared across the five nations.”

Yugao choked. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“Are you seriously telling me that Minato-san invented the rasengan just so that he could carve a hole through a rock for a necklace?”

“Pretty much,” Kakashi said with a shit-eating grin.

“That… is terrifying.”

“It’s not like he did it on the first try, at least. I don’t know how many normal rocks he ended up permanently damaging in the process of coming up with the technique. Haven't you ever found an odd rock lying around with weird holes in it? Well, now you know that it’s a piece of history.”

“Oh my god.”

“Later on, once the necklace was carved, it suddenly occurred to Sensei that maybe, just maybe, his rock-carving technique could actually be useful for actual combat as well. The rasengan was henceforth born.”

“That does sound like him… But just… wow.”

“Yeah… and he named it after an energy drink.”

“He did not .” 

“He did. Apparently, it had been his favorite drink as a kid, but they stopped selling. Sensei recycled the name as a silent tribute.”

“Oh my god… imagine being the owner of that company?” 

Kakashi cuckled wistfully. “Yeah. Almost makes going out of business worth it.”

 It almost hurt to remember Minato like this, but the pain was of the good kind, he found. If he was to die in this place, then Kakashi was happy to have gotten to have this conversation before the fact.

“Ne, what happened in the end?” Yugao whispered, interrupting his thoughts. “Did Kushina like the necklace?”

“Hmmm, well, at first she was predictably baffled,” Kakashi answered. “I mean, the necklace was literally a rock with a hole in it. Sensei was pretty disheartened.”

“And that’s it? No way!”

“Ah, well, no.”

“What then?”

“I may have left her an anonymous note detailing the specifics of the manufacturing process,” Kakashi admitted.

“Oh? And did it work?”

“She never took it off after that… and she made Sensei carve their wedding ring out of another rock.”

“That’s… that’s so...” Yugao made an odd squealing noise that sounded sort of like a dying opera singer. Kakashi suppressed a laugh. She was sort of right, not that he’d ever admit it.

 

 

 

“Kakashi?” Shikaku’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “You’ve been quiet for a long time. You alright?”

Kakashi nodded. “Ma, just trying to remember if I’d left the stove on.”

“Uh-huh. So. Should I expect reports of a burnt down flat?”

“You never know,” the jonin said.

“So what happened?” Shikaku asked. “Did you guys get broken out? Did Yugao finally show her true colors? What did she even tell you to convince you she knew Minato?”

“Just some anecdotes.” Kakashi stuffed his hands into his pockets. “And no. No one broke us out. I found out later on that we’d already been presumed KIA by that point. It was up to us to break free.”

 “Holy shit. Out of the silent gallows? Without help?”

“Ma… what can I say. My adolescent years were exciting.”

 

 

 

Of course, Kakashi had kept up the mandatory exercise routine taught to all ANBU in preparation for the event of capture. With every passing day, it got harder and harder to finish it. The lack of food was wearing him down slowly but surely, to the point where he felt lightheaded most of the time now. Yugao had started to cough at some point. Inevitably, her breaths began to rattle more and her coughing fits began to last longer.

They were both dying.

 

Notes:

So… Sakura and Ino’s long-awaited reconciliation is here!! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing this. Finally being able to write about these two getting along was a fantastic experience. Meanwhile, Shikaku starts to unveil a plot from long ago and the pieces are all moving into place for the final smack down. DUN DUN DUN

Also, if anyone remembers me making a poll about whether you know x Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande songs what feels like millions of years ago… now you know what it was for lol
Anyways, as I said earlier, I wish you all happy holidays (as happy as they can get, with no traveling (at least in my country I can’t visit relatives or anything)), but yeah. Make the best out of what we’ve got and all that jazz.
Happy Easter!!

Coming Next:
The mystery surrounding Yugao Uzuki the first continues to expand, Danzo is forced to make a deal and Jiraiya does something very right and something very wrong. Meanwhile, Sasuke will face the hardest choice of his life. Stay tuned!

Chapter 19: Of Seals and Spies

Summary:

Recap from last chapter:
Sakura finds out Itachi has a poisonous plant growing inside of him (one related to tomatoes) and in doing so manages to rekindle her friendship with a certain blonde. She and Ino then get up to many shenanigans, such as inviting Sasuke to Ino's house and Ino flirting with him 'to restore his self-confidence'.
Meanwhile, Shikaku and Inoichi grow interested in the case of a certain spy, who had disappeared from Konoha almost ten years ago, with the authorities non the wiser about who 'Yugao Uzuki the first' was.
In order to find out, Shikaku corners Kakashi after Hayate's funeral and convinces him to share his story. We find out that Kakashi and Yugao had, once upon a time, been ANBU teammates, and friends. Whilst captured in a high security Iwa facility, Yugao finally opens up to Kakashi and we find out that she had known Minato quite well, but not how or why. The story continues.

Notes:

So... new chapter. It is, as always, pretty long, so yeah. To those of you who don't have time to read it in one sitting- scenes have been parted so you can choose when you want to stop.

The cell was still dank and stuffy, its floor still wet and grime-covered. The hunger was worse than ever; the vice-like hug of the encroaching cold tighter, darkness still the only constant. If Kakashi had thought he’d get used to his confinement, then he’d been wrong. With every passing day, the lack of food was weakening him more and more, to the background noise of Yugao’s rattling coughing fits. 

 

One day, she tried to give him some of her food. She argued that he was going through a growth spurt and needed it more. It was true. All he felt lately was the gnawing hunger. Kakashi wanted nothing more than to agree and take the damn food, but he didn’t.

“No. I’ll eat my share and you yours. I’m not leaving without you. And my body’s not dumb: if I don’t get enough sustenance, then I’ll just stop growing, no problem.”

A deep frown marred Yugao’s features.

“I don’t think it works like that… what if your growth gets stunted forever? I mean you’re already so short…”

Kakashi bristled. “Short? I’m not short!”

“Vertically challenged.”

Some time ago, they might have begun bickering. 

“Listen, Kakashi,” she said, suddenly cold. “What’s more useful: two shinobi crippled from starvation and illness, or one able-bodied fighter that can escape?”

“Stop it, Yugao.”

“ You should stop being so obstinate.”

“Obstinate? What the hell is wrong with you!”

“Both of us can’t make it. This is a fact.”

“No,” he snapped curtly. “You’re wrong.”

“Ka–”

“No, end of discussion.”

They both stared at each other. Yugao was scowling like a drowned cat again. Like a desperate, ocean-on-all sides, drowned cat.

“It is true.” There was a bitter edge in her voice. “I can’t keep doing this anymore. There’s nothing left for me. Maybe it's for the best.”

“Yugao… what are you talking about?” Kakashi stared at her with furrowed brows.  She didn’t elaborate. In fact, her scowl eventually faded, until nothing was left. Her face could just as well have been cut from porcelain. Kakashi didn’t like that look in her eye – frighteningly vacant. Glassy. Like a dead person. 

“Alright, stop that. This is just the fever or whatever getting to you.”

She chuckled hollowly. “No. You don’t understand. The mess I’m in… it’s too big. Maybe it’s for the best if I just…”

“No,” Kakashi couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “No. Listen to me, numskull. We’ve made it this far without giving up. It’s a big mess, but, but we can get out. We can.”

Silence. Yugao shook her head. “You don’t even believe that yourself. I know what I’m talking about. This prison… there’s no escaping it. Not in our condition. Not without outside help.”

Kakashi wanted to argue back. He gripped the bars, tried to think of what Obito would’ve said – but his mind drew a blank. A part of him couldn’t help but agree with what Yugao’s reasoning.

She had that vacant look again. “...my  chances are one in a thousandth, anyway. At best. Some problems just… can’t be solved. They aren’t worth tackling.” She looked over at him, as if seeking his confirmation.

He couldn’t have said why, but Kakashi knew right then that his answer would make a difference. That this was big.

“No,” he said resolutely. “If we don’t even try, then we’ll never know if your estimation was wrong.” She eyed him with a hopeless mien. “Look. One in a thousand is a pretty random number. It could be a lot less.”

Yugao rolled her eyes tiredly. “Bad odds are bad odds.”

“It still isn’t zero.”

“Pff.” She laughed hoarsely. “You know, if we do make it out of here, please buy a book on giving pep talks.”

He shoved her through the bars, cheeks aflame. “Shut up.”

 

---

“So… eventually, we ended up deciding we’d take a chance, even if that might draw the guards attention upon us.”

Shikaku frowned. “Man, that couldn’t have been an easy decision. You’d slipped under the radar so far, but if they caught on to who you really were…”

 “Well, our situation was pretty bleak,” Kakashi said with a shrug. “If we’d stayed there much longer, we’d have died.”

---

After a night (or day?) of fitfully recharging their energy through a parody of sleep, they set a plan into motion: Yugao made a show of wailing, screaming and generally playing her illness up until one of the wards finally came to check out the ruckus. Kakashi, who had been lying in wait, channeled an electric current through the metal bars just as the jailer was touching them. The stocky ninja twitched repeatedly and screamed, but by then Yugao had latched onto his leg and held on desperately so that Kakashi could finish the job.

The guard’s death was long and agonizing. In his frenzy to get away, the poor man had tried slamming Yugao face-first against the bars.

CLANG! Once, then again, and again. Clank. Clank.

Nevertheless, she clung to him and didn’t let go. Kakashi let out a breath when the guard finally dropped to the floor limply. 

“Yugao? Oi, Yugao?” The little pile on the floor that was her moved, uncurling until her face came visible again. It was filled with blood – a broken nose, most likely – and would probably look much worse in a while. Her left eye was promising to match her hair color soon.

“I… I think I see his keys,” Yugao croaked.

“Good. Where are they?”

“In his… in his belt. Dangling off it.” 

She sounded really croakey, but he needed to impress upon her that they needed to hurry. “Yugao, Yugao, listen. You’ve got to get up. Can you do that for me? Yes, that’s it. And then drag the guard toward you and take the keys, quick.”

It turned out she was too weak to drag the man’s considerable body mass over. Shit, shit, shit. What now?

Kakashi was sure that their escape attempt had failed before it could even commence, but he was proven wrong when Yugao somehow managed to snag the keys in a desperate ditch-attempt by dislocating her shoulder. She was muttering something about the few advantages of hyper-extended elbows even as she tossed them awkwardly back to him. Now it was Kakashi’s turn. 

It took him an embarrassingly long time to manage to unlock his manacles and the door, but then, impossibly, the latches clicked and he was free. Their escape was underway.

Opening her cell door was done in short order. Kakashi carefully extricated Yugao from where she was limply staring at him (fuck, she was thin) and carefully popped her shoulder back into its socket. Then they bolted. For once, as they staggered through the prison, luck was on their side and they somehow managed to find their way to the exit undetected. Once outside, they dumped the guard’s body (Kakashi had put it into a scroll, but they might need it for other things) into a well. Then they ran (tripped) through the forest as fast as they could.

 

---

“Our chances were abysmal,” Kakashi told Shikaku quietly. “All of our weapons and possessions had been taken from us. I didn’t even have an accurate map of the area.” He hadn’t even had anything to cover Obito’s eye with. It was a miracle the guards hadn’t noticed it. “We were deep into the heart of enemy territory. It was obvious that search parties were on the lookout for us. Iwa wouldn’t stand for the humiliation of letting two teenage prisoners escape.”

“Sounds bad.”

Kakashi shrugged. “Mah, I’m sure you  could sympathize. The worst part about making a great effort is the knowledge that we’d most likely get caught and that all of it would be for nothing.”

 

---

“Kakashi.” Yugao’s voice snapped him out of his dark thoughts. “Remember what you told me in the cell? One in a thousandth – it’s not zero.”

Kakashi kept walking ahead, face stony. “I lied.” His voice sounded dead. It was beginning to sink in that they could escape their prison all they wanted; they’d never make it home. “One divided a thousand is a zero with many other zeros behind the comma.”

He couldn’t see Yugao’s face as he was walking ahead; couldn’t bear to look her in the eye as he voiced what he knew to be true. Suddenly, she nudged his arm.

“We really need to get you that pep talk book, eh?”

Somehow, that cheered him up. “I’m fine , thanks.”

She snorted. They kept going.

---

“Predictably, our luck ran out as we neared the border: we were recognized by bounty hunters.”

“Shit. Why is it always those guys?” Shikaku lamented. “And almost at the border, too…”

Kakashi nodded grimly. “It was an ugly fight. Yugao almost lost a finger, I got a concussion and – well. I don’t even remember our exact injuries. We escaped, that was all that mattered.”

“Seriously?” the Nara clan head guffawed. “How in the hell did you manage that? A fight, unarmed, outnumbered, in foreign territory – and you still escaped?”

Kakashi didn’t remember. He’d just fought with every shred of his being – to survive, to make it home. The details were blurry.

“We weren’t willing to chance another encounter, so we were forced to drag ourselves through a river in order to get rid of a possible trail. Then we trekked all the way to Grass Country.” They’d pushed their famine-ailed bodies to the very brink. “After days of travel, we made it to the Sunken Wastelands, still alive and free. Not bad, ne?”

---

He had never seen them before, but the name didn’t let down. An ominous, mud-covered swamp that was rumored to be a deathtrap of poisonous fumes, the Sunken Wastelands were infamous as much as they were avoided – both by ninja and travelers alike, which is exactly why they were their only hope of crossing the border.

Their trek through the Sunken Wastelands was grueling, was painful and crude and plain horrible… but somehow, after what felt like weeks of trudging through sludge and barely eating, barely drinking –

---

“The sunken wastelands?” Shikaku questioned. “Thought those were… uh. Dangerous?”

“Not if you’re desperate enough. We crossed them and made it to Fire Country,” Kakashi said. 

---

Hope had gripped them as they stumbled forward without pause, never taking their eyes off their goal, barely coherent. And then it happened: they laid eyes on the village gates, tall and proud and larger than life.

KONOHA

Kakashi’s hazy eyes drifted over the inscription, a feeling of unreality taking over.

---

“The guards ran up to us, disbelief all over their faces. As I said earlier, our squad had been presumed KIA weeks ago.” 

---

As he fell to his knees in exhaustion, the world spinning around him, dizzy with relief, it was all he could do not to dry heave. He glanced to his left. Yugao was there, quiet tears streaming down her pale cheeks, out of the one eye that wasn’t completely bruised closed. She was smiling at him, vivid and strong, and she was saying something, looking at him, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Finally… home.

---

“She said something?”

“I know she did, but it barely registered,” Kakashi confirmed.

“But she smiled at you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Kakashi questioned. “We’d done the impossible.”

“I… I’m really confused now.”

Kakashi chuckled. “Then you’re going to love the next part. When I woke up a week later, the hokage was in my hospital room. I sat up quickly and asked him what the matter was.”

---

 

“Sandaime-sama?”

Hiruzen was mustering him intently.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Kakashi-kun. Could you please tell me what the words on the mantelpiece of your old home were?”

Confused, Kakashi answered the question.

“And the names of your ninken?”

Kakashi told him their names.

“What was the first jutsu that Minato-kun taught you and why?”

“How old were you when you graduated?”

“What did I tell you after you completed your first ANBU mission?”

The questions went on for a while. At long last, the sandaime seemed pleased.

“Thank you, Kakashi. I hope you understand the need to confirm your identity.”

Kakashi nodded, though he was a little lost. Typically, he didn’t get interrogated like this upon coming home. It did make sense that he would be since he’d been captured, but why by the hokage? No, something else was afoot here.

The hokage didn’t give him time to ask. Immediately, he started questioning Kakashi about the details of the mission. Relieved that he apparently wasn’t in trouble, Kakashi began reporting the horrible events to the best of his ability. He described monotonously how his team had died (again) except for him and Yugao, how they’d been taken prisoners right afterward, their various escapes and the subsequent foray in the horrible, disgusting, smelly swamp that stretched from Grass Country into Fire Country… By the time he was finished, the hokage was frowning.

“And Yugao didn’t behave strangely at any point? In a fashion that was out of character?”

Kakashi shook his head in confusion. Sure, she did open up to him in that cell, but it had still clearly been her.

“You’re certain that she couldn’t have been replaced by one of the Iwa shinobi at the prison?” the hokage pressed.

On his part, Kakashi felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Replaced? What’s that supposed to mean? Is she alr–”

“Answer the question, please.”

Hesitantly, Kakashi shook his head again. “No, she acted like herself the entire time. Even if the guards had tortured knowledge of our team and village out of her, which to my knowledge they didn’t, I would have noticed if her smell had changed. And her behavior would have been impossible to replicate by someone who didn’t know her well. It was definitely her.”

The sandaime stared at Kakashi silently, his expression grave.

“Hokage-sama?” Kakashi pressed, tensing. “What is it?”

The old man sighed. “The ANBU archives were broken into last night. We don’t know what was taken.” He paused. “According to the Inuzuka’s best tracker dogs, the intruder was Yugao Uzuki.”

Kakashi’s eyes widened. “Impossible. They’ve made a mistake.”

The sandaime shook his head slowly. “You’ve said yourself that a tracker’s nose cannot be fooled, Kakashi. We have raided Yugao’s flat and found her passed out on a bed. However, her smell was different from the one the dogs had picked up on.”

“I don’t understand.”

Full of dread, Kakashi searched the hokage’s face for any trace that this was a lie…

But the hokage only leveled him with a solemn look. “I’m sorry to say this, Kakashi-kun… but the Yugao Uzuki that was admitted to the hospital with you is gone. And the Yugao Uzuki who was found in her bed has no memory of the past eight months.”

There were two Yugaos?

An ice cold feeling spread over Kakashi’s chest. “No, that’s impossible.”

The sandaime sighed. “I’m truly sorry, Kakashi-kun, but it looks like the Yugao you knew was a spy. The real Yugao Uzuki has never set foot into ANBU HQ.”

Thunderstruck, Kakashi stared at the hokage with unbridled horror. No, that couldn’t be. Yugao had cared about the village, about the team. She’d been just as stricken by their teammate’s deaths… Hell no. It couldn’t be.

But… he remembered her hopeless expression in that cell, talking about the problem that she couldn’t solve, looking desperate, looking lost –  her eyes so frighteningly vacant. What had she been trying to tell him?

“ It is true.” He remembered the bitter edge in her voice. “I can’t keep doing this anymore. There’s nothing left for me. Maybe it's for the best…”

“ The mess I’m in,” she had said, “it’s too big.”

He had assumed in that moment that she was referring to their predicament, but– 

Fool. He had been a fool. As the truth began to sink in, scorching anger welled up within him. 

Yugao, how could you? Or was that even her name? Had she ever even been his teammate to begin with? Liar. She had lied. None of it had mattered to her. She had betrayed them, betrayed team Kame.

Fury brewed in his gut. She had lied to him. She had abandoned him; one more name in a long list – and she wasn’t even dead. How dare she? He would find her. He would find her and punch her and drag her back and...

“Do you know who she is, or why she infiltrated us?” he asked the hokage, struggling to keep his voice level.

The sandaime shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

There was a long, tense silence.

“Do you even know where she went?” Kakashi questioned. He wanted answers. He needed answers. Now.

The hokage sighed. “Our trackers followed her all the way to the far end of the Nara forests’ border, but beyond that… they lost her. She was too fast. I’m sorry, Kakashi-kun. The storm yesterday night has made her trail grow cold.” He leveled Kakashi with a grave look of finality. “She’s well and truly gone – and good riddance.”

Gone.

 

---

“So… she left after you both made it back. That is actually… really odd,” Shikaku mused.

Kakashi’s fist clenched. Noticing his internal conflict, Shikaku gave him a questioning look. Finally, Kakashi relented. “She’d said something to me, in that prison.”

The Nara’s eyebrow quirked up. “Hmm?”

“She wanted to know if…” Kakashi frowned.

There had been that damned vacant look in her eye he couldn’t stand. “...my  chances are one in a thousandth. At best.” He recalled the sullen voice she’d spoken in. “Some problems just… can’t be solved. They aren’t worth tackling.” 

A silent question. He had sensed, even then, that his answer would matter to her.

“No,” he remembered his words clearly. “If we don’t even try, then we’ll never know if your estimation was wrong.” 

 “She wanted to know if something – some sort of problem – was worth trying to solve. She seemed to think that it wasn’t… but I encouraged her to.”

They were silent. “And she never said what the problem was?”

He shook his head.

As he fell to his knees in exhaustion, the world spinning around him, Kakashi could only sigh with relief. He glanced to his left. Yugao was there, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her eyes met his, a deep emotion in them. He saw her move her lips, saying something, but he couldn’t make out the words .

“No. I never found out.”

Shikaku stared at him. “But that’s…” He frowned. “Troublesome woman.”

Kakashi nodded, smiling wryly. “Quite.”

“And you never saw her again after that, huh? What a way to go…” Shikaku paused, having noticed a minute tensing of Kakashi’s shoulders. “What is it?”  

The man seemed to deliberate for almost an entire minute.

“I never saw her again,” he said, “but. That wasn’t the last I heard from her.”

 

---

A few hours earlier, the civilian district

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite person in the world.” Danzo sneered at Jiraiya.

“Likewise,” Jiraiya said with distaste.

“And? What brings you here?” Danzo questioned after it became apparent that Jiraiya wanted to talk to him. “In case you can’t see, I’m in the middle of something.”

Jiraiya glanced around, suppressing laughter. He had found the elder near the civilian court room and if that wasn’t telling enough, Danzo was clutching  a stack of legal papers in his right hand.

“So it’s really true then?” he couldn’t help but ask. “You finally got sued?” 

“Yes,” Danzo replied blandly. 

Jiraiya snorted. “Holly cow. Whoever did ought to have some balls of steel.” 

Danzo scowled. “As it happens, they don’t. It’s a woman who sued me.”

Jiraiya’s eyebrows shot into the air. “My… If you were anybody else, I’d write a novel about it. Icha Icha: sexual tension in a courtroom…”

“Don’t you dare,” Danzo hissed.

“Icha Icha: legally wooed.”

“You will drop this topic if you value your life.”

“Alright, alright, relax. Jeez.”

“Hmp,” the elder grunted scathingly. “Now, I hate to cut this short, but unfortunately I am required to make an appearance in court, so if you could just leave…”

“Why not send a shadow clone though?” Jiraiya suggested. “Or is that beyond your abilities?”

Danzo gave him a foul look. “I have been sending shadow clones. But in case it somehow escaped your notice, the longer a shadow clone stays in existence, the larger the cumulative exhaustion upon its dispersal. Or are those words too big for you?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m a respectable book author–”

“I beg to differ.”

“Icha Icha–”

“Cut the crap and tell me what you want with me,” the councilman interrupted with vexation.

Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed. So he had cut to the chase… well, there was no putting it off now. Jiraiya would go through with his plan. 

“I want to talk to you. In private. Right now.”

Danzo’s eyes narrowed carefully. He seemed to weigh his options for longer than what was reasonable. Finally, he said: “Fine. Follow.”

 

---

A few minutes later found them in a sealed, empty room with privacy wards painted on the walls and doors. There were no windows. 

Upon arrival, Danzo limited to lean against one of the walls and leveling Jiraiya’s with a penetrating stare.

“So? State your business, Sannin.”

Jiraiya frowned at him. In truth, his business was none of his business. He wanted to know the truth of the Uchiha massacre. He wanted to know why no one had cleared Itachi’s name. He wanted to know what exactly had happened on that blood-streaked night five years ago. 

But his sensei had already lied to him about it once back then and then again when he brought up the topic a few days ago, so he would have to find out some other way.

Basically, he was banking on Danzo believing that Hiruzen had told him the truth… and if he could trick  Danzo into swallowing his lie, then Jiraiya could perhaps get the truth from the source – for there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Danzo knew exactly what had happened.

“The Uchiha massacre is my business,” Jiraiya stated in a menacing voice. “Or more accurately, Itachi Uchiha’s innocence is my business.”

Danzo’s jaw clenched. For the longest time, he didn’t say anything. “You know ,” he spat at last. “How did you find out?”

“Now, now. I’m the one asking the questions here,” Jiraiya said slowly.

“Answer me!” Danzo growled. “How much do you know?”

“In case it escaped your notice, I have an intelligence network that spreads wide over the five great ninja nations. Do you truly believe something of this magnitude would slip past me?” 

Danzo’s knuckles were bone white as he gripped his cane. “Who was it? Was it Hiruzen? He told you, didn’t he? That batty old fool!”

Hook, line and sinker. Good , Jiraiya thought viciously.

Outwardly, he kept his face carefully blank. “You should watch how you talk to your hokage, Shimura. Or someone might infer that you’re plotting treason.”

It was the right thing to say. Danzo clearly took the violent deflection as proof that he had guessed right and glared even harder at him. 

Jiraiya could see his nostrils flare. 

“Oh? And I suppose that what happened that night is too much for your delicate sensibilities, Sannin?”

“Watch it!” Jiraiya snapped, playing along. Danzo thought he was a hot-headed fool… and that was the part he must play if he wished to press his advantage. Now, how should he go about getting the intel he wanted? He decided to send Danzo a smoke screen and see what happened:

“The massacre could’ve been avoided and you know it.”

It was vague enough that it could practically mean anything, but in the heat of the moment, Danzo didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s what your foolish old teacher would have you believe,”  he practically growled. 

It seems I’ve struck gold, Jiraiya thought.

“Oh?” he said faux-casually. “And why shouldn’t I believe my sensei? Why should I believe the backstabbing bastard’s side of the story instead?”

“Because your inane teacher is a fool!” Danzo burst out. “For months on end he kept jabbering about finding a middle ground and wasting time until it was too late! ”

“That’s not what he told me ,” Jiraiya said, raising his eyebrows for added effect. Not that he had told Jiraiya much of anything.

“Of course he wouldn’t see it that way,” Danzo spat. “But it’s the truth. Hiruzen wasted precious time by doing nothing. Nothing . You hear me? It was his mistake for not reacting and I had to jump in to correct it at the very last second, so don’t you dare accuse me when it was my actions that saved us from disaster! Why do you think all of the Uchiha were in the compound that night? Because it wasn’t a coincidence!”

Jiraiya fought to conceal his shock. That sounded awfully like… Danzo had ordered for the massacre to happen. No. Imposible. And yet… Jiraiya couldn’t deny the evidence that kept piling up. But he knew that he needed to get his head back in the game before Danzo realized that he was bluffing about his knowledge.

“You say you had to jump in and save the day,” Jiraiya said derisively, “and yet it sounds awfully like you only made things worse.”

“Don’t you understand, you blathering fool!” Danzo shouted. “We were past the point of no return! I had no choice! I waited until the last second, and then I acted because no one else would! He who strikes first wins . We couldn’t afford to lose!”

Oh, Jiraiya was beginning to understand alright.

“You feel guilty,” he said in a soft, lethal voice. “Don’t you.” His over emotional reaction and how easily he’d been fooled could only be explained if he had deep feelings attached to the event that made Danzo irrational.

Danzo stopped dead in his tracks. “Guilty?” he spat. “Do I feel guilty for saving the village from civil war? No. I acted in the name of the greater good and if you don’t understand that, then–”

“But you do feel guilty, don’t you?” Jiraiya pressed quietly. “How many unnecessary victims died because of your actions that night? How many children, wives, mothers…?”

“And how many more would’ve died if we’d had a civil war?” Danzo snapped – a confession if Jiraiya ever saw one. But the elder continued:  “Listen to me Sannin, the weakness of our village in the case of a civil war would’ve led the other nations to ally against us and that would’ve been the end ! Don’t you see? It would’ve been the massacre of Konoha, not just one of its clans!”

“Do you tell that to yourself so that you can sleep at night?” 

Danzo didn’t reply this time. He was breathing deeply through his nose now, clearly attempting to calm himself.

“Why are you here, Sannin ?” he questioned at last, his voice frigid. “What do you want from me?”

Oh, how interesting. Danzo thought Jiraiya sought to blackmail him, did he? Well, if he insists… 

“I want Uchiha Itachi’s freedom. I want you to confess to what you did.”

Danzo barked out a laugh. “Hah! As if I could agree to that. He’s our only spy within the Akatsuki, or have you forgotten? We need him to stay where he is.”

Jiraiya clenched his teeth.

“Well if you won’t tell the truth, then I will.” He turned to leave, but Danzo’s cane blocked the exit.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he murmured threateningly. “Tell me, Sannin. What else do you want? Perhaps we could come to an agreement.”

Jiraiya frowned. He wanted Itachi free, but it was clear that Danzo would never do anything that could compromise his own position… still, couldn’t he do something to clear Itachi’s name? 

“I want Uchiha Itachi’s name cleared.”

“Unacceptable. Clearing his name would put a stain on Konoha instead.”

“You mean you.”

“I mean Konoha. Or what, did you think your precious teacher wasn’t aware of what happened?”

Jiraiya glared at him. He would’ve loved to throw a tantrum and insist on his initial terms, but he knew an impossible task when he saw it. If the truth was revealed now, not only would it be a huge blow to Konoha right before the massacre, but they would also lose their only spy within Akatsuki… the Akatsuki who were targetting his godson. Minato’s son. What if, by removing Itachi from the organization, Naruto ended up dying? The price… no, it was too high. If Naruto died, then Minato’s sacrifice, Kushina’s sacrifice, they’d have been in vain. Konoha would be in danger if they lost their bijuu. Shit. Jiraiya’s fist clenched. Shit. Shit. Shit . As much as he loathed it, he couldn’t free Itachi. For Naruto’s own good… at the very least until Akatsuki was defeated… but Itachi was terminally ill. God damn .

I’m so sorry… he thought into the air. But he was a shinobi and shinobi made the best of what they had, the best of any situation. He had Danzo at blade point and he’d be damned if he didn’t take advantage.

Jiraiya straightened his spine and spoke his terms:

“If you really want me to stay quiet on this, Shimura, then I want you to sign a fuinjutsu contract in exchange.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“And what would be the terms?” Danzo asked carefully.

Jiraiya paused. He knew that this was a one in a lifetime chance. He had the upper hand here, he could tell; he may not be certain about why exactly Danzo had felt the need to order the Uchiha clan to be massacred, but it was clear that he had done so and gone to great lengths to keep it quiet. If the truth came out, his political career would be in shambles. Or in other words: Jiraiya could ask for nearly anything in exchange for his silence.

 

After much thought, he carefully worded his answer: “That you will never stage an uprising against the hokage. Against any hokage.” He let those words sink in. “In exchange, I will sign a silencing contract on my end.”

 

Eyes shadowed, Danzo took a step back. A moment later, his expresión was once again visible if stony, and he stared at Jiraiya long and hard. On his part, Jiraiya forced himself not to falter, not to so much as twitch, barely dating to breathe. Too much was riding on this one moment.

Finally, the elder closed his eyes and then re-opened them slowly.

“If I were to sign this, it would be only under one condition – the terms don’t come into effect after your teacher’s mandate ends.”

Jiraiya’s eyes widened. “Are you insane? That is practically an admission of guilt on your part!”

“Consider it a promise instead,” Danzo said darkly. “If you don’t find a hokage that is more competent than Hiruzen and soon, I will take matters into my own hands.”

Jiraiya frowned. Damn. What a curveball! He thought frantically about what he should do. This was bad! He wasn’t making any de facto promises about not rebelling against sensei! And the contract would be useless if Danzo was elected the next hokage. No, there were too many loopholes – loopholes Danzo must be banking on; he needed to negotiate better terms.

“I don’t accept.”

Danzo looked at him expressionlessly. “Then don’t, sannin. You have no proof to justify your accusations against me either way and while they could hurt my name, they will not be easily believed. So you think the ninja of this village would want to think of Konoha as a village who massacred one of its clans? With the hokage fully aware of that order? No. The won’t believe you. Less so as your own reputation is questionable. If it comes down to it, you’ll face the largest slander campaign in your career, Sannin, and so will I. Neither of us will benefit. Well? What do you have to say to that?”

Jiraiya gritted his teeth. It was clear he wasn’t going to offer any other bargain. Shit. Even so… the terms Danzo had agreed to weren’t as great as he’d have wanted but – the deal was still good. Permanent protection from Danzo for any of his sensei’s successors? It was an amazing offer, but– who said Danzo would really go to the lengths of staging a coup anyway? He was an old man already. Wasn’t Jiraiya being overly paranoid here? What if Danzo was just playing on his fears?

At his continued silence, the elder turned. “Fine, if that’s your answer… then so may it be.” And without a backward glance he turned, cane clanking against the hard, stone floors with every step.

To Jiraiya, the sounds were almost like the ticking of a clock. He watched, indecisive, as with every step the elder came closer and closer to the door.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank.

He was one step away when Jiraiya caved.

“Wait! ”

Danzo didn’t turn, but his hand rested on the door handle without pressing down.

“Wait,” Jiraiya repeated. “I… I accept your offer.”  

 

 

---

“I never saw her again,” he said, “but. That wasn’t the last I heard from her.”

 

Badumb. Badumb. Badumb.

Shikaku froze. What?

“Is this… Kakashi.” He hadn’t seen the report, but he knew that it had been sealed ten years ago and never reopened. Kakashi had seen Uzuki again, and he hadn't said anything. This was... this could be considered...

He didn't finish the thought.

"Relax." Kakashi turned, looking away from him. “We never had direct contact, not as such.”

“But you did have contact?” 

Shikaku stared wide-eyed at Kakashi, who didn’t deny it. He tried to gather himself. Could she be the spy they were looking for after all? 

“Kakashi, what happened?”

 

 

---

 

“You are improving by leaps and bounds, hime.”

Sakura, who was panting in the middle of the training field, grinned at Shi-chan and patted him on the beak.

“Thanks, Shi-chan. What did I tell you about calling me that though?”

Shi-chan clucked at her and otherwise ignored the comment. “But you must rest also, hime. Or else you will burn yourself out, caw.”

“I’m fine, Shi-chan,” Sakura assured him. She had taken to eating some energizing vitamin pills every morning and they really helped. She also ate them in the evenings so she could meet with Ino and Sasuke after all her chores and not be a corpse… but Shi-chan didn’t need to know that.

The crow was looking at her with narrowed eyes, as if trying to spot a lie.

Sakura grinned awkwardly and stood up from the ground again. “Please, Shi-chan. I promise I’ll take a break once I master the shunshin fully.”

“You’re already adequate at it, caw.” 

Sakura shook her head. “No. I have to use my memory to get around, but I can’t even keep my eyes open whilst I’m using the technique, and what use is that?”

Shi-chan blinked owlishly at her. “Caw, Sakura-hime, caw, that happens to nearly everyone who uses it. Only those with special dojutsu may hope to truly see whilst using the technique… and of those, only one person has ever been able to do so with full situational awareness. Caw.”

“Let me guess. An Uchiha?”

“Caw, that’s right.”

Figures . Sakura frowned. Ugh! Why was this so unfair? Why did clan people always have to have all the advantages?

She kicked a grassblade in dissatisfaction. 

“There’s got to be some loophole,” she muttered to herself. “An alternative…”

“Actually, there is, caw. But I’m not certain it would work.”

Sakura looked up hopefully. “What, what? You have to tell me!”

Shi-chan seemed pleased with himself. “If I do, you will let me call you however I please, caw.”

Sakura glared at him. “Fine,” she grumbled. It had been a downhill battle anyway. “Now tell me already…”

Shi-chan preened importantly. “Alright, caw. You see, my other human came up with a jutsu that allows all those crows under my jurisdiction to be connected as one mind, caw.”

“ Woah . He did? That sounds super complex.”

“And it is, caw. But also very useful. We can pass on messages, know exact coordinates, eavesdrop on conversations and pass them on word for word through the link whilst they are happening… caw, and we can likewise pass on what we see .”

Sakura gasped. “So does that mean that if he wanted, Tetsuya could see and hear us chat right now through you ?!”

Shi-chan cocked his head. “If he was using the jutsu and I allowed it, then yes, caw. But he only uses it for missions, caw, as it takes much chakra over long distances.”

That made sense… but even so, Sakura was in awe of Tetsuya. He must be insanely intelligent if he could come up with such a jutsu. On his own. Just wow… 

But more importantly, Shi-chan was right. If she could master this technique, then she would be able to see out of the eyes of the crows. Provided that one was nearby whilst she used the shunshin, she would be able to use the crows’ perspective in order to move through the environment and dodge attacks! Brilliant!

“Shi-chan, you’re a genius!”

“So they all say, hime, so they all say.”

“You must teach me this technique immediately!”

“Caw. I shall do so once you take a break.”

“Shi-chan come on!”

 

---

 

Expression heavy with censure, Shikaku questioned Kakashi.

“How exactly did you encounter Uzuki the spy again? And how long ago was it?”

“Ma, it’s been a while,” Kakashi said noncommittally. "It wasn't an encounter either, as I said. It went like this..."

---

 

Almost four years after he’d met Yugao, many things had changed. ANBU’s identity checkup system had undergone some significant updates, Kakashi had grown five inches and lost ten more teammates, his threat level in the bingo book had been updated to ‘flee on sight’, the boy he had saved from Root a while back (Tenzo) had finally been cleared for active duty and assigned to a squad under Kakashi himself…

He had also finally accepted that he would never see Yugao again. His teammate Yugao, anyway.

Now nineteen and a half, he was for all intents and purposes an extremely accomplished shinobi; feared, respected and dubiously admired. The whispers hadn’t stopped, but they had changed in nature. He was chronically late to all his meetings, but could get away with it ( one of his many captains were still alive to nag him for it). He had also developed an unhealthy addiction to the book series that Obito had always tried to get his hands on whenever they had visited Sensei at his house. 

The old anger and resentment he’d felt for Yugao, which had festered within him for a long time, had gradually simmered down, until all that was left was a bone deep exhaustion and melancholy. He had tried telling the sandaime that Yugao had known Minato back then, had worked with him, that she was definitely not malicious – but this had only seemed to alarm the man even more. To be frank, Kakashi had a feeling that the sandaime hokage knew more than he let on about the mystery of ANBU’s first Yugao, but no matter how much he needled and prodded him, the hokage remained tight lipped. It was the one matter in which Kakashi couldn’t make him budge, no matter how much he tried.

Eventually, he had come to consider Yugao as one more teammate that he had lost, this one someone whose memory he couldn’t even honor. He had tried to leave it at that. To his vexation, this wasn’t made easy by the admittance into ANBU of the actual Yugao Uzuki, who, for some inexplicable reason, seemed to hold a torch for him. The woman had orchestrated copious attempts to get to know him, all failing rather comically. He did feel a little bad about it, but Kakashi simply couldn’t… He could barely stand to look at her.

When he did force himself to, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how, upon inspecting her back then , the medics were surprised to find that apart from her memory loss, the real Yugao Uzuki had sustained no damage at all. She had been fed regularly and nutritiously and her muscles weren’t atrophied in the least. She had been clean and her hair washed and conditioned. Her bills had been paid and her house tidied with care. No money or valuables had been taken. She hadn’t been killed.

Kakashi reflected on that and wondered … and then he forced himself not to. There was no point. He would never see his Yugao again, and even if he did, he’d never be able to recognize her.

On her part, the real Yugao Uzuki had fit into ANBU seamlessly, almost mockingly so, Kakashi felt, filling all the voids that his Yugao had left. She didn’t struggle making friends, she was girly, she stated in her introduction that kenjutsu was her specialty, she grew out her hair and used makeup. To anyone who knew the two of them, the difference would have been like night and day – from their mannerisms, to their behavior, to their senses of humor, their talents and their passions – but all those who had known her were dead; only Kakashi was there to notice.

The topic of ‘the fake’, as everyone else had taken to call his former teammate, rarely came up in conversation. Her infiltration had been an embarrassment for ANBU and was simply not spoken of, a taboo word that was especially not mentioned if Kakashi was nearby.

He had still heard others talk about her a few times, talking of how they’d enjoy dispatching the traitor, how they’d make it painful and drawn out, how they’d make sure to get the message across. Kakashi would always grit his teeth and walk by without saying anything. She had lied to him too. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to think like that. Not any longer. Not even back when he’d been mad at her. Less so now.

In this world of shinobi what were they all but tools? Tools to be wielded by the hands of selfish, unforgiving masters? He was certain that Yugao had been just as much of a helpless cog in the system as he was, that she hadn’t wanted to betray him, that there was a reason for her actions. Was he a fool for thinking that? If he shared his thoughts, he was certain he’d be laughed at, but he knew that she had cared about Gacho and Ahiru and Kame. And him, she’d cared about him too.

She hadn’t wanted to betray him. He would stay firm in his belief of that, no matter what anyone else may say.

(A small part of his mind still wondered whether she had betrayed him at all – she had worked under Sensei after all, on some classified project that only the sandaime seemed to know about – what if… what if?)

In any case, Kakashi had decided that, for all intents and purposes, she was his teammate and he would remember her as that. She was one more teammate that had left him, one more teammate he would never be able to reach, to talk to again.

In spite of this belief, Kakashi would sometimes catch himself wondering how she was doing, if she was still alive, whether she still wondered about him too from time to time.

 

He had just returned from a tiring mission with team Ro when he got his answer. Kakashi’s flat had been closest so he and Tenzo had stopped by to get their injuries wrapped and bandaged before any of the medics swarming around could get any ideas.

“You shower first,” Kakashi told Tenzo with a sigh. “You’re more bloody than I am.”

Tenzo acquiesced, disappearing into Kakashi’s small bathroom whilst Kakashi went about rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Then he stopped, noticing the potted plant on his windowsill. He was pretty certain that he hadn’t put it there though. He didn’t even have a plant.

Curiously, he opened the window and (after checking for traps) retrieved it. It was very odd looking, teal-colored, with triangle-like leaves and an unfamiliar, if pleasant, smell. Who on earth could’ve put it there?

Kakashi stared at the plant in puzzlement. His confusion only grew when he spotted the odd script on the pot. ‘Mr Ukki’ it read. The letters had been written with a marker, though the ink was old and worn, must’ve been written some time ago. It was mostly a hunch that had him checking the bottom of the pot, but when he did, he was surprised to discover someone had scrawled something else down there. This ink was much newer. It had to have have been written a few days ago at most. Kakashi squinted at it.

Thank you , it said simply. And below, it was signed – 1 ‰.

Kakashi stared at the plant for five long minutes in silence. Then, he carefully placed it on the kitchen counter.

One in a thousandth percent.

One in a thousandth fucking percent. He snorted, had almost started laughing hysterically.

“Is that a frost azalea ?” Tenzo’s incredulous voice interrupted his shocked reverie.

“Hm?” 

Having stepped closer, Tenzo snatched the plant away from him and stared at it with wide eyes. “Oh my god, it is! Senpai, how on earth did you get this?”

Kakashi blinked at him. “Uh.”

“Senpai?”

Kakashi forced his brain to work again.

“Ma… a stray cat dropped by and left it out on my windowsill.”

Tenzo rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Do you even know how valuable this plant is? And you just have it sitting in your flat? The Yamanaka would sell their soul for it!”

“That’s nice.”

Tenzo continued to chatter excitedly. “Heck, you could probably get a fortune by auctioning it! Now you really can’t get out of inviting me for takeout with all that money. Seriously, senpai–”

“I’m not selling it.”

A beat, then two.

“…what?” Tenzo turned toward him incredulously. “ You? Not selling it? Do you even know how much–”

“I’m not selling it.”

There was a pause.

Tenzo must’ve seen something in Kakashi’s eye because he slowly closed his mouth and stared at him with even larger eyes than usual.

“Well… alright,” he said slowly, appearing completely baffled. “But you should still think about letting the Nara and the Yamanaka take some cuttings, senpai… the frost azalea has the components to make some really rare poisons and antidotes which would help the village immensely. If we start growing it, we could become the main supplier for it, even.”

“It can’t be that rare,” Kakashi said dubiously, even as his eyes involuntarily widened. How had she gotten this?

“Believe me; it’s that rare. Did you know that it used to be kept in special, guarded greenhouses in hidden snow before its downfall?” Tenzo babbled excitedly. “It’s literally the sole reason why such a small country could be so rich in the first place. But now that the whole village got burnt down… well, so did the greenhouses. Senpai, I believed the frost azalea to be extinct until two minutes ago . And then one suddenly shows up with one on your kitchen counter. ”

“Right…”

Everyone knew about the Hell flame of Snow, the fire which had burnt down an entire hidden village in the span of a few hours some months ago. Intelligence reports had made it clear that it couldn’t possibly have been a natural fire. Even if it hadn’t been natural, the S-Ranked shinobi that was Yaruk no Yoi, the former unacknowledged kage of Snow, should’ve been able to put it out easily enough with his renowned water and ice techniques. But Yaruk had died in that fire along with everyone else, and no village knew who or what had been behind it.

Kakashi stared at the plant and wondered whether she would know.

---

“So that’s how you got the frost azalea,” Shikaku concluded, eyes wide despite himself. He had always figured Kakashi had stolen it during a mission in the area. People had been so used to the man’s ridiculous ability to anticipate and prepare for any and all situations that they had taken his sudden ownership of an incredibly rare and valuable plant in stride. It wouldn’t have been the oddest thing that had happened around Hatake. 

Still… the fact that he hadn’t told anyone where he had gotten it… Well. It sort of was… he didn’t want to say the T word. But Kakashi had told Shikaku when asked, and the plant had indeed brought in a huge profit for the village (the Nara and Yamanaka clans specifically – he suddenly remembered with stark clarity how Kakashi had let both him and Inoichi take cuttings for free, cuttings they’d been ready to give an arm and a leg for). Hm. He almost smirked at the thought, suddenly realizing that perhaps it wasn’t such a coincidence Kakashi had chosen to finally confide in him after all. The damn bastard had acted reluctant to share the conclusion of his story, but Shikaku suddenly realized that it had all been for show. He’d known he was going to reveal this part to Shikaku from the very get go, if only because Shikaku, in a way, had Yugao to thank for a big part of his clan’s income.

And, though he hated to admit it, Kakashi’s calculation had been right. Shikaku wasn’t one to sell people out needlessly.

“Still," he said out loud. "There’s one thing I don’t understand. How’d you know the azalea was from her?”

Kakashi tilted his head. “She had left a reference to one of our conversations on it.”

“Right.” It was clear he wouldn’t elaborate beyond that. Shikaku nodded. “Guess you were right. ANBU’s first Yugao Uzuki definitely wasn’t a conventional spy.” He paused. “Still. Thank you for telling me this.”

Kakashi nodded. “Ma, no worries. As long as you catch our current mole…”

There was a brief silence. Awkward. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the two men bid each other goodbye. 

“You don’t mind if I return on my own, do you?” Kakashi asked nonchalantly.

Shikaku smirked. “Mind?  I’m sure you’ll find your way just fine.”

Don’t you already know this forest like the back of your hand, Hatake?

Kakashi had the decency to look sheepish. “Ah, well. I’m sure I’ll manage not to get lost.”

“Troublesome. See to it that you don’t.”

“Later.”

And with one last careless wave, the jonin vanished into the night air.

---

 

---

The next day

 

 

“What do you mean, you have a sister, Pig?” Sakura questioned. “Congrats on your mom’s pregnancy?”

“No, that isn’t it, Forehead!”

Ino and Sakura had been walking around town aimlessly as they talked… when Ino had seen fit to spring the latest piece of news on her.

“Then what?” Sakura asked. “Is this a joke or something?”

Ino shook her head. “No. I’m serious, Forehead. I…” she hesitated, sitting down gingerly on a bench. She looked distinctly un-Ino-like, with her hands over her knees, her back hunched and her head lowered. “I mean” she said quietly, “that apparently I’ve had a sister all along – and my parents never even told me! ” The last part was finished in a screech.

Sakura blinked, completely blindsided, as she plopped down next to the blonde. Then the words registered. One second, two passed… and Ino still hadn’t said it was a joke. Sakura stared at her friend, completely flabbergasted. “What the hell? Seriously?”

Ino nodded. “Yeah. But that’s not even the worst part, Forehead.” She sounded mad.

“Er… what is?”

“That I only found out by eavesdropping on them!”

Sakura gasped. “What?!”

“Yes!”

“There’s no way! Your parents wouldn’t do that!” Sakura was sure of it. “Having a sister is huge. They wouldn’t keep such a thing from you.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” Ino said spitefully. Her eyes were stormy, and Sakura was only now realizing just how worked up her best friend was getting. She placed a comforting hand on Ino’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay…”

“No it’s not!” 

Sakura flinched. “Well… you’re right. It's not okay... if that’s really what happened… but Ino… listen. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. Have you talked about it with them?”

Ino shook her head. “No, Forehead. But I know what I heard. My mom was crying, saying something about how your sensei had advised her…”

Sakura stared at her open-mouthed. “Kakashi-sensei?” 

“Yes!”

“He’s involved?” 

“YES!” Ino said again.

“But… I don’t understand. What exactly did you hear?”

Ino frowned. “Not much. You see… well, my parents have been… really distant lately.” She sounded pained. “Gone all the time, and when they're home, it’s like they’re gone too. All sullen and stressed. I’ve known something was up for a while now… but… the other day I caught mom crying. Daddy didn’t cry, at least I haven’t seen him, but… they both look really… well… bad. Hugging each other. I knew it was something really bad right then. They’ve been acting secretive, talking about something with privacy seals, but that day… they looked devastated. 

“I only saw them because I wasn’t supposed to be home, so they didn’t use privacy seals. But I overheard them talking… they mentioned that I have a sister… and she works for some guy named Dango or something like that… I… I couldn’t really make much sense of the conversation, Forehead, but I know that Mom mentioned having visited your sensei, and that he said something that made her really sad.

“Wh-what did he say? …Ino?”

Ino stared at her sandals. “He told my mom that my sister, whoever she is… that she doesn’t love Mom anymore. Her and Dad. And me, I guess. That she’s with the Dango guy. That she has repudiated my family.” 

Sakura felt her heart break for her best friend. “What…” she could only say blankly. “And… you’re sure Kakashi-sensei said that?” It sounded so harsh for him. In Sakura’s expereience, her sensei was always one to mince words with stupid jokes and ridiculous behavior. That he would say something like that… well. It was quite bleak. Though Ino’s mom was an adult, so maybe that was why. 

“Yeah. And I know it was your sensei she was talking about because I remember being startled when his name came up. Dad even called him Hatake, which is his surname, right?”

Sakura nodded. Looking at her friend, she was lost on what to do. “Oh, come on, Ino… cheer up. Even if you do have a sister–”

“Whose name I don’t fucking know–!”

Sakura nodded. “Well, even then, it’s her loss. If she wants to go off gallivanting with some dango vendor or something, then whose problem is that? Hers, right? She clearly doesn’t know what’s good for her.”

Ino nodded slowly, gave Sakura a smile. “You’re right, Forehead. Stupid bimbo is missing out.”

Sakura laughed. “Exactly!”

---

Kakashi was having a bad month. His student had lost his eyes, he’d been forced to recall old wounds  and talk about them and… oh,  did he mention they were about to be invaded?

After being cornered by the Nara clan head yesterday, he’d returned to his flat and spent the entire night staring blankly at his ceiling. The worst part was, after he’d  finally fallen asleep around six a.m., he’d been awakened by his alarm clock at nine, because he had to accompany Sasuke to a doctor’s appointment at ten. And since this was serious business (it would be a checkup to see whether Sasuke could get a transplant), he couldn’t afford to be late for it either.

Thus, his current eye-bags and desire to strangle something. As he and Sasuke waited in silence for the medic to return with the result of the checkup, Kakashi found that his mind kept on wandering against his will. 

More specifically, his thoughts kept coming back to the sandaime’s order to kill Rio and what he was supposed to do about it: yet another thing that was driving him spare. It went against his moral code. He had killed plenty of people in Root but usually he’d been able to justify it to himself in some form or another. Not that killing Rio couldn’t be justified, but he kept linking her to Tenzo. The thought of what would have happened if he’d killed Tenzo whilst he was still in Root kept haunting him – Tenzo, one of the best people he knew, one of his best friends… and though the bond he had with the mokuton user couldn’t compare to his flimsy acquaintance with Rio, the thought of killing her still sat very wrong with him. Yes, she was Root. Yes, she’d mostly acted pleasant around him, though undoubtedly must have a dark side hidden away somewhere… even so, the thought of killing her made him uneasy. It was annoying. His time out of ANBU was making him soft.

But what he hated the most was that he couldn’t just say no. The hokage wanted her dead and Kakashi knew in the marrow of his bones that couldn’t disobey a direct order like that… if he did, he would be charged for treason, kicked out of his only home and hunted like a dog, never to see his friends and loved ones again. And while Kakashi considered himself a loner, even he had his limits. Leaving Konoha was not something he could live with… so that only left him with one choice: following the hokage’s high priority order. He may sympathise with Rio, but in the end he wasn’t going to throw his life away for her.

Thus, he knew he'd go through with her assassination, but his promise to Chihiro kept on resounding in the back of his mind, like a haunting echo, reminding him of just how much of a scumbag he was. A scumbag, as he'd always been. Rio’s only hope at this point was that she’d be hard enough to kill that he failed. Even so, fights against high-level opponents tended to end in the death of one party, and Kakashi wasn’t about to let himself die either. So… what? It all depended on how much wriggle room the fight gave him. It all depended on what kind of opponent Rio was. How would he go about trying to kill her?

Ambushing someone who knew you were about to do so was not exactly easy. It stood to reason that the only logical way to accomplish this would be to try and block Río’s mind powers somehow. But how? He pondered it for a while. Perhaps there was a fuinjutsu seal or barrier that could be designed against mental invasions… but in order to succeed at creating it, he would need to understand how Río’s technique even worked in the first place… which was normally what he excelled at. Shikaku had been right about his monicker after all: he was so good at copying techniques because he managed to understand them down to their very core. Only this time, he really, really didn’t want to figure Rio’s jutsu out. Doing so meant he’d succeed at killing her with 100% certainty.

Unfortunately, his brain didn’t seem to have gotten the memo. From his recent interactions with Yamanaka Inoichi, Kakashi had figured out that the minimum requirement for the Yamanaka mind-reading jutsu to work was touch. He went over it again.  The question was: how did Rio insert her own chakra into someone else’s system with mind reading if she wasn’t touching them? That was what set her apart from any other Yamanaka he knew.

And the answer, after careful consideration, became increasingly clear to him. It was bound to be through the environment. Only the sharingan could skip that part. But how? Slowly but surely, a theory coalesced into his mind like a screw snapping into place, and it all clicked .

The only way that Río could be doing it… Kakashi was pretty sure he’d figured it out. She must use the environment as a channel of sorts, he thought. She was sending her chakra through it and into the other person’s network somehow. The technique likely wasted a lot of chakra; she’d need to send out immense amounts of it that would increase the longer the distance to be crossed – sort of like a chakra string that would infiltrate the target’s network, except instead of a string it was probably more like a wave made of both jin and elemental chakra…  Of course, this wouldn’t be possible without perfect control over a medium that would act as the channel… he bet that she must have an air or earth chakra affinity and was using either element to send her chakra all over the place.

Slowly, an idea had begun to form in his mind about a fuinjutsu array that would likely counter her technique– when Kakashi caught himself. He was doing it again!

He didn’t want to figure out how to beat her. He wanted plausible deniability saying that he didn’t know how to get past Río’s mind control and the mission had failed, without either party dying. 

Still, creating such a fuinjutsu array was likely beyond his capabilities right then. Sure, he could probably sneak into the second’s archives in order to search for the way to go about creating it, but no one needed to know that. So… he still had plausible deniability. He'd go through with the assassination, yes, but no one could blame him if he failed to sneak up on a mind reader, right?

 

Just then, he noticed a mednin stepping into the waiting room. It was the same woman from earlier, and as soon as their eyes met, she gestured for them to follow her into her office. Straightening, Kakashi patted Sasuke’s shoulder to indicate it was time. Sasuke’s checkup results. The woman better have good news.

 

When they stepped into the room, Sasuke remained tight lipped, so Kakashi took point. 

“All good news I hope?” he inquired with his foniest close-eyed smile.

The woman bit her lip guiltily. “Well… yes and no.”

Beneath his hand, Sasuke tensed. “What do you mean?” the boy snapped.

“A transplant will be possible,” the medic said, and Kakashi deflated with relief. Thank god.

“What’s the bad news then?” Sasuke asked tensely.

“Well…” the medic hesitated. “The damage done to the optical nerves during the… extraction… was extensive. In any other nation, I dare say that a transplant would be impossible.”

“So what’s the catch?” Sasuke questioned with a frown.

“Well… you see, one of the major problems still delaying advances in modern ophthalmology is the seemingly irreversible and permanent nature of damage to the optic nerve. Severed axons of retinal ganglion cells, like the long tracts of the spinal cord, have no capacity for functional repair under normal physiological circumstances. This is quite unfortunate, since a capacity for successful optic nerve regeneration is a necessity for restoration of vision following damage to the anterior visual pathway, moreso if we take into account the complex chakra capillaries involved in dojutsu-centric ophthalmological procedures. In other words, a fully functional neuronal regeneration within the central nervous system is extremely trying to achieve, even for our most experienced mednin. However, Tsunade-sama’s research notes in the past few years have made optic nerve and spinal cord regeneration a reality in some experimental testing cases – either along existing pathways, through peripheral nerve bridges, from embryonic transplants, or at certain critical stages of central nervous system development. This case is different in that the peripheral nerve bridges available are quite  thin and partly thorn due to the violent extraction of optical tissue and chakra capillaries, so repeated transplantation procedures are not a viable option, I’m afraid.” 

And people asked why he hated medics?

 

“Ah, come again?” 

The woman tutted. “Basically what I’m saying is: Sasuke is incredibly lucky to be from Konoha, otherwise he would be blind for life. However, even here, due to the strain placed on his optic nerve through the removal of his eyeballs, we will only be able to operate him once at a maximum.”

The room fell silent.

Kakashi chanced a hesitant glance at Sasuke and saw that he was frowning deeply. 

“In other words,” Sasuke said, his voice wavering the slightest bit, “should I get the transplant done now, even if I retrieved my real eyes from Orochimaru later on, I would never be able to transplant them into me regardless. Is that it?”

The woman heaved a drawn-out sigh. Looking defeated, she nodded, not seeming to realize that Sasuke couldn’t see her. 

Noticing this, Kakashi squeezed his shoulder and clarified: “the transplant can only be done once.”

At his words, Sasuke’s jaw clenched so hard that his teeth gnashed. Kakashi could tell that he was about to explode and hastily turned toward the medic. “Uh, could you leave us, please?”

The medic nodded. “Of course.” She turned tail and left the room.

 

Hating the helpless feeling in his gut, Kakash slowly turned back toward his student. “Sasuke…”

Sasuke just sat there, staring – or well, facing – his feet. 

“Sasuke, you have to get the transplant done,” Kakashi said slowly. Sasuke didn’t answer. Swallowing nervously, Kakashi steeled himself and forged on, very aware that he might as well be poking a minefield with a stick. “Look, none of the hokage even had the sharingan and they’re all strong ninja… you’re talented. You don’t need the sharingan. Just get a normal transplant and–”

“Of course I need the sharingan!” Sasuke spat suddenly, standing up so fast that the chair clattered to the ground.

“No, you–”

“I DO!” His fists were balled and his expression was contorted. “I HAVE TO AVENGE MY CLAN! I CAN’T DO THAT WITHOUT THE SHARINGAN !”   

“Sasuke–”

“ No ! You know what I’m talking about! Itach – that man – he has absolute mastery over his sharingan. Absolute. Mastery. I cannot beat him without it!”

“Revenge isn’t the only–”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“I know you must be feeling–”

“You don’t know! You don’t know how I feel!” Sasuke shouted furiously. “For five years, I have only lived for that one thing! Revenge is the only thing I live for! I have to make him pay for what he did. I have to make. him. pay. I need my sharingan! ”

Kakashi flinched. “Sasuke. Listen to me. You could transplant one eye now and leave the other eye-socket in reserve, just in case you do get your sharingan back–”

“Itachi has both eyes!”

Despite Sasuke’s own lack of eyes, Kakashi suddenly realized that he had started to cry. Snot was dripping down his nose and his shoulders were heaving. 

“Sasuke listen–” 

“You – you don’t – you don’t understand! – Itachi was – he was a prodigy – is a prodigy. I – I can’t beat him – I can’t beat him with one eye – I have to be at my best – sensei, I – I have to – I have to put everything into – into my revenge – I can’t – I can’t not try – I can’t live with myself if I don’t try –”

Kakashi regarded the sobbing mess that was his student and felt a pang of potent, unstoppable loathing course through him.

Damn you, Itachi, he thought darkly. If Sasuke doesn’t, then I will. I will end you.

As it was, all he could do at the moment was crouch down and awkwardly try to pat his student’s head. He felt so pitiful right then…  Why was it that he had to deal with all the crying genin by himself? He wasn’t equipped for this!

To his surprise, Sasuke suddenly fisted his hand into his jonin vest and buried his head in the crook of Kakashi’s neck. Floored, Kakashi just crouched there and prayed to any deity who might listen that this… hug – excuse of a hug, he had no idea how to actually pull it off properly – was somehow helping… 

He made a mental note to copy some socially adjusted civilian’s hugging technique with his sharingan, just in case it ever happened again.

Oh, god… and wasn’t that thought telling? He was not sensei material at all… 

 

---

Forty minutes after Sasuke’s checkup

 

“Yo! If it isn’t my favorite jonin in the whole village! What’s up, Kakashi?”

Jiraiya clapped Kakashi on the back joyously. He was in an excellent mood. Just yesterday, he had prevented a possible future uprising by signing his pact with Danzo, had practically made history, and he honestly felt like he could conquer the entire world at the moment. Hell, he even felt like he could try and bond with Kakashi! 

And so, it was said and done. With the aid of his trusty summons, the toad sage had located the reclusive Hatake in an instant as he brooded in front of the memorial stone and sought him out.

Upon his sudden appearance, Kakashi looked up from his brooding, staring at Jiraiya with unfathomable black eyes (eye) and saying nothing. He didn’t even give him his customary wave… For many long minutes, neither of them said anything… which was a little odd, all told.

Jiraiya frowned.  “Er, Kakashi?”

Kakashi continued to stare at him and not say anything.

“Something wrong?”

The jonin turned away and stared at some point far away. “I’m a bad sensei.”

Jiraiya blinked, taken aback by the confesion. Since when did Kakashi ever talk about his feelings? “Aw, man, don’t say that! I’m sure you’re just being angsty–”

Kakashi shot him such a dark look that Jiraiya immediately shut up.

Stupid , he chastised himself. Why couldn’t he be serious for once? He was so bad at being serious… 

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Damn. He sounded so awkward… 

Kakashi shook his head no.

“Is there anything I can help you with though?” Jiraiya tried again. “Anything at all?”

Kakashi tensed, then relaxed, and Jiraiya spotted his chance.

“Ah, so there is ! I knew it. Just name it and I will, Kakashi! Any jutsu you’d like to know, or intel, or info on my next book, or a sealing array you need help with…”

At the last offer, he noticed Kakashi twitch.

Ah, there we go!

“Ah, a seal, is it?” Jiraiya questioned eagerly. “Just say what it’s for and I’ll see if I can sketch it out for you!”

Kakashi was glaring at him now, but Jiraiya chalked it off to hurt pride.

“Not that I’m saying that you can’t do it, or anything. It’s just, you’d save a lot of time if I help you, wouldn’t you? C’mon, Kakashi, don’t be so stubborn! I’m practically offering to do your work for you here!”

Kakashi stared at him, looking extremely miffed. “Fine.”

Huh? He actually agreed? Jiraiya perked up. Great! “Alright. Can we discuss it here or is it a sensitive matter?”

Kakashi gave him a dark look. “Let’s just go to my apartment…” he muttered at last. 

Awesome! Jiraiya mentally patted himself on the back  for a job well done. He was making progress, he could tell. He’d never been to Kakashi’s place before. Hell, anyone who knew the man was aware that he was an extremely private person. Being invited to over was a downright honor!

 

Meanwhile, Kakashi wasn’t feeling nearly as jovial.

Why, oh why did he have to stumble upon Jiraiya of all people? And a helpful Jiraiya of all things?

He wondered whether the hokage had put him up to the task of helping Kakashi in his assignment to murder Río. It was the only option that made sense. Why else would he act so helpful? And Kakashi couldn’t say no to him after he’d practically offered to come up with the fuinjutsu array for him. After all, if he said he didn’t need help with it, then he couldn’t tell the hokage later on that he’d had no way of coming up with a fuinjutsu array that could block Río’s power… damn it. He’d been outmanoeuvred. Shit, what now? His best bet was to hope Jiraiya wouldn’t be able to help… but he could already tell that it’d be no use. Jiraiya would figure out the solution faster than he could say ‘plausible deniability’ and then what?

 

 

 

---

 

“Ah, so you need a scroll that can block mind-reading… and you say it works over long distances? Are you sure?”

Kakashi grunted in what one may intercept as a ‘yes’. 

“And how did you say it works again?”

“Over long distances.”

“And besides that?”

A shrug. 

Jiraiya stared at Kakashi, his eyebrow twitching.

“Anything else?”

Kakashi was staring out of the window. “Hm.”

“ C’mon ,” Jiraiya groaned. “I need a working theory here at least, Kakashi!”

“I suppose you do.”

How could anybody be this unhelpful? If he didn’t know any better, Jiraiya would’ve thought Kakashi was being obtuse on purpose.

He armed himself with patience.

“And do you really not have any ideas on how this mind-reading jutsu could possibly work then?”

“Nope.”

“None at all ?”

“None at all.”

Jiraiya frowned at him. The man was certainly making it hard to play nice, but he would try . It was clear Kakashi had had a difficult day, and Jiraiya was determined to be understanding about it. He would show he cared.

 

 

Meanwhile, Kakashi watched with a dawning sense of horror as Jiraiya poked and prodded at the fuinjutsu array, discarding working theories and hypothesis, inching ever-closer to the solution… and Kakashi was powerless to put a stop to it.

 

By the time that the moon was high in the sky above them, Jiraiya gave a triumphant exclamation and thrust a scroll into the air. Kakashi stared at it with dread. The sannin didn’t seem to notice.

“Ha!” he crowed, standing up and popping his spine loudly. “Tricky bugger. Finally got it right though.”

He glanced at Kakashi, as though expecting an answer. Kakashi forced himself to deliver it.

“...so you did.”

“Well, it was pretty mind-wrecking, I’ll hand it to you. I’d have had no idea on how to tackle the issue if not for those rumors of this mind flayer fellow going around–” Kakashi very deliberately did not tense “ – heck, they’re probably nonsense, but it did make me curious about fuinjutsu interactions with mind-based attacks, you know? So I had already done some preliminary research on the topic.” He clapped Kakashi on the back jovially. “Lucky you!”

“...yes. Lucky me.” 

Finally, Jiraiya seemed to pick up on his lack of enthusiasm and his smile dimmed. 

“Anyway, you can use these babies either by applying the paper with the array over your own skin, making you immune to psychic attacks, or alternatively, you could layer them with an area-intended array-type scroll and build a sort of barrier around a perimeter which would make it impossible for any mind-reading to occur within the perimeter of the barrier.”

“That’s… fantastic.”

“Ah, well it was no trouble.” Jiraiya said hesitantly. At Kakashi’s lack of response, he frowned. “Kakashi, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it though…”

Great. Could his day get any worse? Kakashi was starting to suspect that all these questions  were some type of subtle interrogation. Jiraiya never acted helpful like this and asked him how he was. So why now? There was only one plausible explanation: he  must be probing Kakashi  in order to find out whether the thought of killing Río bothered him. Kakashi tried not to feel too betrayed; Jiraiya was most likely following orders. But did that mean that the sandaime had him figured out? Most likely. Maybe. He must at least suspect something or Jiraiya wouldn’t be here.

And what would Jiraiya do to Kakashi  if he figured out that he did indeed care? That he didn’t want to kill Río? Would he put him in chains and ship him off to T&I? Brand him a traitor? Tell everyone?

No, surely not. Or would he? He had come to visit him under the hokage’s orders after all, and anyway, Jiraiya had never really bothered to be there for Kakashi when he was at his lowest. The sannin had always been a casual acquaintance, had never made any sort of effort to push their relationship beyond that, so it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t mind shipping him off to T&I. Even so, Kakashi felt oddly hurt and betrayed. He hadn’t expected Jiraiya to… to do this to him.

He wasn’t managing to keep his expression as  blank as he’d have liked, Kakashi could tell. But he couldn’t help it. An odd chill had begun to stirr deep in the marrow of his bones, a potent coldness that welled up within him…

No, he was an elite shinobi. He was entitled to feel whatever he wanted. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet. No one could accuse him of anything.

“Kakashi? Are you alright?” Jiraiya repeated.

“I’m fine, don’t push it,” Kakashi shot back. Some of the coldness he was feeling must’ve been reflected in his voice, because Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed.

Kakashi chastised himself. He couldn’t let on. He had to stay alert and pretend nothing was amiss… 

 

Meanwhile, Jiraiya felt a gnawing feeling of worry start to spread in his gut. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong. Why had Kakashi clammed up like that? He didn’t understand the man at all. He’d just spent over eight hours working non-stop to help him, and instead of happy, he looked all the more uncomfortable and annoyed for it… dare he say it, even angry? But then again, maybe Jiraiya wasn’t reading him right? Kakashi was a hard man to read, and the mask he insisted on wearing twenty four seven didn’t make it any easier.

“Hey, Kakashi,” he said placatingly. “I just wanted to help.”

Kakashi actually glared at him. “Thank you.” He looked all but thankful. “Your assistance has been…  invaluable.”

Jiraiya nodded uneasily. “No problem… I guess.”

Kakashi just stared at him silently. The look he was giving Jiraiya was so unnerving that the sannin cast his gaze around the room in search for something else to say, anything , anything at all that could break the tension… 

Unfortunately, Kakashi’s flat was… well,  boring, to put it simply.

There was a single bedroom with a single bed in it, an adjacent kitchenette, and a door which must lead to the bathroom. The place was sparsely furnished and monotone – the wallpaper was beige, what little furniture he could see was utilitarian and made of steel (certainly so that it wouldn’t burn under attack) and to add the final touch, Kakashi’s bed had an old, ugly yellow shuriken comforter on it which Jiraiya was pretty sure must be at least two decades old. Finally,  the floor was a cold, tiled black – probably good for hiding blood stains. 

It was, if one thought about it, quite heartbreaking. This place wasn’t a home at all, unappealing even to Jiraiya, who had lived on the road for decades. Most inns were homelier than this!

Truly, the only color in the little apartment as far as he could see was the picture of Kakashi’s genin team resting upon the nightstand – and the potted plant next to it.

Hmmm… 

Jiraiya remembered seeing the same picture in Sakura’s bedroom and even opened his mouth to comment on it, but then he recalled Kakashi saying that he was a ‘bad sensei’ earlier. Bringing the picture up was likely not a good idea then. And yet, he’d already opened his mouth to say something… in his desperation, Jiraiya squinted at the potted plant. It had ‘Mr Ukki’ written on the pot… well, here goes nothing… 

“Say, where’d you get that plant? It’s very… green.”

Kakashi’s eyebrows rose and his deadpan stare said it all. 

“...it was a gift.”

Oh? Could it be? He actually had a personal effect besides for the picture?

Jiraiya pounced upon the topic. “A gift? Really? Well, it’s an odd plant – er, interesting! Interesting plant, I mean.”

Kakashi fixed him with that unreadable look again. “It does look rather odd. But that’s because it’s not native to the area.”

“Oho? And how come? So a foreigner gifted it to you? Was it for a mission well done perchance?” 

“No.”

“From a lady friend then?”

Kakashi grimaced. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Right. Great. Now Jiraiya was curious. And… he was also back to square one, namely: tense, awkard silence. And Kakashi’s inscrutable stare.

Golly, he was regretting ever offering his help! Well, no, he didn’t regret that… but he wished it could’ve worked out better.

Disappointed, Jiraiya inwardly sighed at himself. He really wasn’t one for subtlety in the emotional department, was he? Ah, well. To hell with it! This wasn’t him anyway. He’d just speak his mind and hope for the best.

Resolute, he stood up, clasping Kakashi’s shoulder warmly as he did. “You know, Kakashi… I think you are a pretty darn good sensei, so don’t beat yourself up over false insecurities. The pink-haired girl …Sakura, was it? – why, she’s very talented! And she seemed to think very highly of you. And about what happened to your other kid – well, it’s not your fault, so get that through your thick skull, alright? No one could’ve known about the attack to your kid in advance, least of all you. Sometimes, these things just happen…”

 Kakashi was eyeing him with a frown. “How do you know Sakura?” His eye narrowed. “Have you been spying on her?”

Of course he would fixate on that part. Of course. Jiraiya mentally kicked himself.

“What? N-no! Of course not! Who do you take me for?”

Kakashi gave him a blank look.

Jiraiya huffed. “It’s true, I swear. I didn’t spy on anybo–”

“Then why did you say that she was ‘talented’?” 

 

Jiraiya sighed. He was realizing now that he actually couldn’t tell Kakashi the truth. Itachi had been involved in his meeting Sakura and he was now sworn to secrecy in regard to him. Even so, he could probably get away with mentioning Sakura’s escape from Orochimaru, even if he had to lie about who had rescued her… 

“Well, you see, Kakashi…” he said at last. “There was this detail that I actually didn’t mention about my encounter with Orochimaru… and… Sakura may have been involved…?”

If looks could kill, Jiraiya would’ve been in the ninth level of purgatory by then. He was beginning to understand rather intimately why Kakashi was so feared across the five nations. The boy he’d watched grow up had turned into someone with the potential to be very dangerous… and it was only now starting to sink in.

In that moment, Kakashi’s voice was pure, molten iron as he spoke. And Jiraiya finally realized that he was furious. 

“Tell me everything. Now .”  

And Jiraiya did.

 

 

---

“...so… that’s basically what happened…” 

By the time he was done speaking, Kakashi sat still as a stone, a dark expression on his face. 

“Alright.”

Jiraiya blinked at him. That was all? ‘Alright’? Kakashi wouldn’t say anything else? There was no way to know what he was thinking – and for the first time, Jiraiya began to feel uncomfortable in Kakashi’s presence. He felt exposed, like he was talking to a potentially volatile individual, not a friend. Just what was going through his head? For all his experience as an author, Jiraiya remained none the wiser.

 

He remained none the wiser of the fact that Kakashi was stewing over Sakura not having come to him immediately after her encounter with Orochimaru, questioning his abilities as a teacher and beating himself up over the lack of trust his students seemed to have in him. 

Had he said any of this outloud, voiced any of his worries and deprecating thoughts, Jiraiya would have most certainly commiserated with him, and perhaps, in another reality, the sannin would have tried harder to get past Kakashi’s dark silence. Perhaps Kakashi would’ve snapped at him then, questioning why Jiraiya hadn’t come to tell him about Sakura’s encounter with Orochimaru immediately, as was his right as a teacher. Weren’t they friends?

And Jiraiya would immediately have assured him of how much Kakashi meant to him, would’ve  tried to explain what had kept him so busy. He’d have hinted at having found out the mystery behind the ‘spy’ in Konoha, and that he had used this knowledge to force Danzo into an unbreakable contract that would ensure he could never stage an uprising. The good news would’ve put a damper on the bad, and the two men would’ve reconciled. The next day, Kakashi could’ve simply gone to the sandaime with that knowledge and easily convinced him to put Río’s assasination on the backburner in light of Danzo no longer being a threat… 

 

Alas, that was what may have been – but it did not happen. 

Kakashi remained silent as the grave, his churning, negative thoughts clouded; his mien shrouded in forbidding darkness. A discouraged Jiraiya never pried any further, fleeing the lonely apartment as soon as he could.

 

 

Notes:

Author update: I have had little motivation to write this story lately (this chapter has been written for months) but hopefully it will return to me at some point. I have one more chapter besides this and then another one half done.
But enough of that. How did you like it? I know there wasn't much Sakura in this one, but at least you had a lot of her in the previous chapter to make up for it. She will, of course, appear more next chapter, but I needed to get the info from this one out of the way. As usual, the plot thickens and gets even more complicated.
Jiraiya does something very well and something not so well. To Río haters, it looks like Kakashi will have no choice but to off her, so you can celebrate... or maybe not? I suppose we shall see ;)

Chapter 20: Consequences

Notes:

Hi guys! I decided to break the chapter into parts. As a result, this is just the first scene out of three (making up the entire chapter) I’ll be posting, but that will also mean I’ll post more often. No, not gonna lie I’m doing this because I love your comments and posting more often but less quantity will probably help more people find this story hehe. I’m evil MWJAHAH
Anyways, hope yall enjoy as this is one as its absolute Sakura fluff!

Sakura blinked her eyes open. Her bedroom smelled weird… Did her mom go on one of those cleaning sprees again? Confused, she sat up, only to discover that she was in a hospital bed. Erm. What?

Sakura felt oddly exhausted as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Blinkining, Sakura turned toward the source of the noise and found her mother perched on an uncomfortable-looking hospital chair, one of her knitting projects resting on her lap.

“Mom?” Sakura whispered. “What’s going on?”

Mebuki’s face softened and she carefully stood up, setting her needles aside in order to sit by her bedside. She stroked Sakura’s cheek.

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

Sakura blinked. “Huh? What are you talking about?” She was surprised at how croaky her voice came out.

Mebuki continued to stroke her cheek for a minute, then let go. She sighed. “The other day, Shizuka-san tracked down your father. You hadn’t shown up for work and she was worried. We went looking for you, of course, and we found you in your bedroom, asleep. At first, we all thought it was just a scare, but no matter what we did, you wouldn’t wake up…” She grimaced, as though recalling some awful memory. “We were so, so worried, Sakura. I just didn’t know what to do! You weren’t reacting to anything. Not even cold water or a slap. And then your sensei came. Bless the man. As soon as he showed up, he knew what to do. He told us that you were suffering from a condition called ‘chakra exhaustion’. Apparently, if it’s severe it can be lethal. He said that, as you hadn’t died yet since the previous night when you’d presumably gone to sleep, then you were out of the danger zone already. Even so, we were all very worried still, so we took you to the hospital just in case.”

Sakura stared at her mother, aghast, trying to take it all in. Nearly a minute passed in silence.

“...how long have I been asleep for?” she croaked at last.

“Four days.”

That was – that was insane . Sakura stared at her mother with horror. All the shifts she must’ve missed! And her training! She was horribly behind schedule now – not to mention she’d told Ino she’d meet up with her – and oh, no! Sasuke! He must think she’d stood him up– 

“Your friends are worried.” Mebuki’s tired voice interrupted her train of thought. Now that Sakura thought about it, her mother looked like a wreck – and promptly felt even worse.

“My friends know I’m here?”

“Yes. Apparently, your sensei told the Sasuke boy, and he informed the others.”

“...oh.”

 “Did they… did they visit me?”

Mebuki nodded.

“And did they say something while they were here? About… about me being – being weak, or, or… or…”

“No, they said nothing of the sort.” Mebuki fixed Sakura with an upset look. “In fact, Ino-chan was worried sick about you and even her parents came by to ask me if they could escort you to that party of hers once you got better. Apparently, she made them postpone it just for you.” Sakura felt her eyes start to water. “And the Sasuke boy and the other kid came by too. Sasuke boy said something about getting you silkworms, but I told him that it wasn’t necessary. Your other friend tried to sneak in food, but I think your teacher told him off for that.”

“You mean ramen containers?” asked Sakura with a smile.

Mebuki blinked, confused. “How did you know that?”

Sakura giggled. “Lucky guess.”

Her mother huffed, appearing gratified at seeing her daughter smile. 

“And did Kakashi-sensei come by?” Sakura asked shyly.

Mebuki nodded. “Yes, he did. He was very worried too. And angry at you as well, I think. You’re in for an earful from him, Sakura-chan.”

“Oh…” Was it weird that that made Sakura happy? She searched from another topic to distract herself. “And? What do the doctors say? When can I leave?”

Mebuki frowned again. “Well… that’s actually very interesting, dear. Apparently, your… chakra core, I think they called it, is undergoing some kind of massive growth… by a factor of three, I think the man said… and anyway this growth ratio is apparently highly unusual even for clan children. The doctor insisted that such things only happen after extreme, prolonged training. Your sensei seemed to think that ‘survival instincts’ or something like that had come into play as well.” Mebuki crossed her arms ominously. “Care to explain that?”

Sakura had half a mind to bury her head under the covers and ignore the question, but she knew that she couldn’t do that, not any longer. She straightened.

“I’ve been training before going to work everyday, mom…”

Mebuki frowned. “But you start at nine.”

“Er…”

“Sakura, from what time to what time have you been training? And what does Kakashi mean about survival instincts?”

Sakura stared at the bedsheets, her lips clamped shut.

After minutes of silence, she heard her mother sigh. “Sakura, sweety… why didn’t you say something if your ninja career is that important to you?”  

Sakura looked up, startled. “But I did say something.”

Mebuki frowned.

“It’s true,” Sakura insisted. “In the other arguments we had. It’s just – after grandpa and everything– how could I…? How could I be selfish then…?” She felt tears prickle at her eyes, and then her mother’s warm hug. She heard Mebuki sigh, felt the rustle of her hair as she shook her head. 

“When did you get so mature, Sakura-chan?” Sakura smiled tentatively. “But also so stupid!” her mother continued, drawing away from her to glare angrily. “You need to have more regard for your own health! I swear, Sakura, you drive me insane sometimes… do you even realize how worried your father and I were?”

Sakura lowered her head. “Sorry, mom. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“...it’s alright. I know you didn’t. But promise me you’ll be more careful, alright?” Sakura nodded. Mebuki sniffed, then composed herself. “Your father left to attend the shop, by the way… We’ve been taking turns.”

“That’s okay,” Sakura mumbled. “I really feel fine – you don’t have to worry so much.”

Her mother sighed. “How can we not, Sakura…  Next time, just tell us what’s going on with you, okay? I feel terrible for not noticing myself, but I’ve been busy with this – side project I have – and your father’s workload is unbelievable right now as well, and…” She paused. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is –  if you really want to be a ninja so badly, then we won’t stand in your way.” Mebuki bit her lip, and for the first time in her life, Sakura saw her mother look frightened. “But please be careful, ne?”  

Sakura nodded slowly. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a ninja anymore at this point. She just wanted to be ready for whenever Shi-chan’s disaster of doom struck.

“I promise I will be, mom.”

Mebuki smiled. “Come, sit up and I’ll braid your hair for you. Would you like that?”

Sakura would very much like that. It felt very relaxing and also nostalgic, though she was embarrassed to admit it, so she shook her head. “I’m not a kid anymore, mum!”

Mebuki chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Just… we’re a team, okay? Don’t forget that, Sakura-chan. You and I, and your father too, of course, we can get through anything. But we have to stay together for that, okay?”

Sakura smiled at her warmly. “You’re right, mom. And you know what else? I will never abandon my teammates.”

Mebuki smiled. “Exactly.”

 

 

 

After that conversation, Sakura felt much better. She was glad to have cleared the air with her parents. Suddenly her prospects seemed brighter and the tall mountains of her worries no longer insurmountable. Sakura felt a lot more optimistic, in fact. She even endured Kakashi’s inevitable angry lecture in good humor. (Though the man was somewhat terrifying when mad, she managed to get away with hugging him at the end so in her opinion, it had been totally worth it.) Then Kakashi disappeared (in the middle of the hug! The berk) and showed up with Sasuke and Naruto in tow five minutes later, and that was the cherry on top, the culmination of her happiness.

“Sakura-chan! Sakura-chan! You’re awake!”

Sakura grinned at her blonde teammate.

“Astute observation,” Sasuke said from Naruto’s right.

Sakura grinned even more.

“Well, you’re my students. Of course you’re astute.”

This . This was her second family.

Unable to hold it in any longer, she tapped Naruto on the shoulder. “Group hug?”

Both Kakashi and Sasuke looked mortified at the mere idea of (yet another) hug, but Naruto with his boundless energy and usual cheer, corralled them into it. For the record, the hug did turn out sort of awkward and squishy, but Sakura wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

 

After the hugging was over and done with, much to certain parties’ evident relief, and Sasuke and sensei had regained their beloved personal space bubbles again, a comfortable dynamic settled over them. This dynamic consisted mostly of Naruto chattering away about what he’d been up to (apparently he’d stumbled upon a suspicious-sounding character which he’d creatively dubbed ‘the pervy sage’, and then subsequently ‘conned’ said suspicious character into ‘training’ him by following him around in the form of a naked girl), Sasuke made the occasional derisive interjection to his story whilst Sakura yelled at Naruto and scolded him about how following suspicious characters around town was definitely not the way to go about things!

Meanwhile, Kakashi watched them with an odd expression on his face, one which Sakura couldn’t interpret to the best of her ability. He seemed conflicted? Determined? Sort of tense but content? It was weird.

Then Naruto discovered Sakura’s ‘pet project’ on the nightstand. 

As a matter of fact, whilst confined to her hospital bed, Sakura had continued to practice her chakra control with the chakra threads whenever no one was around to see. It wasn’t like she’d get chakra exhaustion from something as insignificant as a little bit of thread weaving, right?

She’d actually improved a fair bit at the exercise and was excited to show Tetsuya the results. Her control had improved to the point that she thought she might be able to she pull off Tsunade’s genjutsu at this point!

In any case, she’d been controlling the threads with her chakra and had got to the point where she could skillfully weave bracelets in doing so. And of course, Naruto had immediately spotted said bracelets, realized Sakura must’ve made them herself (though he seemed to think that she’d done so the normal way) and then proceeded to not very subtly insinuate that he wanted one without actually saying so outright.

“Aw, those bracelets are really cool, Sakura-chan.”

“Thanks, Naruto.”

“It must’ve taken you forever to make them.”

“Only a small forever,” Sakura told him bemusedly

“I didn’t know eternity could be quantified,” Sasuke muttered drolly, but Naruto was not to be deterred.

“Uwah! And I really like the color of that one! Were you thinking of me when you made it? ‘cause I think it would look really cool with my outfit!”

Sakura rolled her eyes at his antics. He was being so obvious… 

“Well,” she said magnanimously. “You can have it, if you want it that badly.”

“REALLY?” Naruto looked at her as if summer vacation had come early, his eyes positively  sparkling.

Sakura smirked. “Believe it.” 

“Do you really, really, really mean it, Sakura-chan?”

Sakura nodded dutifully.

“Really, absolutely, one hundred percent?”

She rolled her eyes. “Really, absolutely, one hundred percent.”

“YATTA!” Naruto did a little dance whilst Sakura handed him the bracelet – or tried to – he was too excited to tie it up right then. Kakashi took it from him (and Naruto didn’t even notice in his excitement), inspecting the little trinket with interest.

“But this is…” Kakashi’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at Sakura suspiciously. 

Sakura knew immediately that he’d figured out it was made up of chakra strings, and also that she’d been practicing chakra control when she shouldn’t have been.

Kakashi stared at her with a narrowed eye.

Sakura tried for an innocent smile.

Thankfully, Naruto was there to interrupt as usual. “Huh? What’s going on with you two? Hey, Wait! That’s my bracelet! Give it back, sensei!”

Kakashi gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t you want me to tie it for you, Naruto?”

“Gah, I’m not one ! I can tie it myself!”

“If you say so.” 

Five minutes and a lot of cursing and ‘hn-chuckling’ later, Naruto gave up and let Sakura tie the bracelet for him (he appeared to think that Kakashi would ruin it somehow) much to everyone else’s exasperation. Once this was done, Naruto seemed even more pleased with  himself and started practically vibrating with energy as he regarded his new bracelet.

And then it happened.

Sasuke shocked in surprise.

All three turned toward his as one.

“What is it, Sasuke?” 

“Sasuke?”

“Hnh? What’s with the look, Sasuke?”

Sasuke was facing the bracelet intently. “I can… I can sense the bracelet,” he concluded after a moment.

“Haaaah? That sounds like bull, believe it!”

Kakashi sighed long-sufferingly. “It’s not, Naruto. Those are chakra-strings that make up the bracelet. You must’ve channeled some of your chakra into them, that’s why Sasuke can sense it.”

His sensing range had improved very quickly due to his blindness, needless to say.

On her part, Sakura was pleased by this discovery. “Oh, but that’s great, Sasuke! This means we can put chakra strings all around your house to make locating things easier!”

The members of team seven stared at her in shock.

There was a beat of silence, then:

“Sakura-chan, you’re a genius!”

 

This was followed by some heated debate, and then Sasuke deciding that he was entitled to a bracelet also, Naruto subsequently declaring that if they wore it, then so must Sakura – and consequently Kakashi – and this then somehow leading to a long-winded squabble over who got what bracelet. Sasuke hilariously ended up with a flower patterned one that Naruto kept insisting was ‘very mannly’, Naruto’s was orange with a red and black stripes, Sakura had picked a blue and teal one and Kakashi reluctantly agreed to keep the last one, which was hot pink, much to his annoyance – though Sakua suspected he would stow it in a drawer as soon as he got home. Naruto clearly didn’t, because he announced that these were their ‘friendship’ bracelets forever and always, though five minutes later claimed that they were good luck charms instead, sparking yet another argument with Sasuke about his having the memory of a mosquito.

Kakashi and Sakura traded glances and sighed as one, but it was a fond sigh, because all was well in team seven land. Or so Sakura thought. She likely wouldn’t have said the same if she’d noticed the considering looks Kakashi had levelled her with whilst she was turned away.

Notes:

So there y’all have it! Part one is almost done… if I work up the motivation to finish it anyway.

Chapter 21: Consequences pt 2

Notes:

Sup folks! Here's part two of the chapter I published last week. Hope it's good! Next week will be the last part

“Senpai, if this is about me making you another piece of furniture–”

“Maa, now why would you say that, Tenzo?”

“Don’t. Just – don’t. I don’t care if your kitchen has been lit on fire by an old lady, I don’t care if your closet is being haunted, I don’t care if your ninken had an accident on the–”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get antsy,” Kakashi interrupted drolly.

Tenzo stared at him with thinly-veiled suspicion. “Then why did you bring sake with you? You only do that when you want a big favor, Senpai. Like replacing all of your furniture within a day. Again.”

“Ah, so suspicious.” Kakashi lamented. “Can’t a man cherish his favorite kohai on the rare occasion?”

Tenzo, predictably, faltered at that address. Pinching his nose, the young man sighed. “Alright, senpai. Out with it. What do you want?”

“Hm, I don’t want anything but to celebrate our friendship,” Kakashi told him archly. 

Of course, this wasn’t strictly true. In a way, this was Kakashi’s latest (and last) idea to convince himself that he’d be doing the right thing by preemptively getting rid of Río. Hearing how bad Root agents were from the source. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to get wasted, because asking Tenzo about his past was admittedly a pretty long shot. 

“Well… why not enjoy a drink with me?” Kakashi offered innocently. “It’s been so long since the last one.”

Tenzo frowned at him. “You do realize my tolerance for some poisons extends to drugs, right?” Nevertheless, he retrieved the sake and poured two glasses for them.

“Ah, yes,” Kakashi mused. “but there will be no drugging involved. Though I have to admit, I was rather surprised the first time you shrugged off cyanide inhalation like it was a piece of cake.” Nothing better than a little flattery to go with sake in order to loosen the tongue, after all. Not that Kakashi was being dishonest; he usually just didn’t bother with compliments.

His kohai looked at him curiously. “This favor must be pretty big if you’re resorting to actual flattery.” Nevertheless, Tenzo looked pleased over the compliment as he took the first sip of his sake.

“Ah, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even as he said this, Kakashi noted the compliment’s effectiveness with delight, raising his glass in a nonchalant toast. “To friendship.”

Tenzo rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. But alright. To friendship.”

 

Three hours later, they were pretty drunk, but Kakashi still hadn’t asked the question. To be honest, he was putting it off until the last second. He didn’t want to bring up those painful memories of Root for Tenzo, but at the same time, he had already come this far… but was it worth it? It was unlikely his kohai would be able to say anything on the topic due to the tongue seal and the inquiry would completely kill the mood…

“Senpai, just ask,” Tenzo spoke up.

Kakashi snapped out of his thoughts. “Sorry?”

“You want to ask me about Root, don’t you?” 

How did he…? Kakashi sighed. Damn Tenzo and his all-knowing ways. Ah, well. The ninken was out of the bag now.

“Yes,” he confirmed, sobering. “I’m sorry to bring it up. Do you…”

“Do I?”

“Does the name Río say anything to you?”

Kakashi had been prepared to catalog the smallest twitch, the most minute tilt of the head or hunch of his shoulders – but he’d definitely not been expecting Tenzo’s reaction. At the mention of the name, his kouhai froze completely, like someone had just chugged a bucket of ice over him. Kakashi could practically feel him sober up within the span of a second. Uh-oh. 

“Río… yes. I know her.”

Kakashi nodded slowly. Then he frowned. “Wait – you’re able to say her name? I thought–”

Tenzo shook his head. “Rio never received the tongue seal, Senpai. I can talk about her.”

Kakashi’s eye widened. What? She was the Root commander and she didn’t have a seal ? There was no way. Tenzo had to be wrong.

Tenzo’s next question shook him out of his stupor. “Why are you asking about her? She died years ago.”

Died? What the…?

“Hmm… let’s just say I came across the name and got curious,” Kakashi improvised. “What can you tell me?” Why do you think she’s dead?

Tenzo paused thoughtfully. “Well… let’s just say that she was in the middle of this… very significant event… that happened while I was, uh, there . I may be able to speak a little about her, but I can’t talk about it , so I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to reveal, since the main thing that makes her… well her , in my eyes, was that one event. So whatever I may tell you not related to it is … wrong. Irrelevant. That’s why I’ve never spoken about her before, even though I could. I – agh. Why do you always ask the hardest questions, Senpai?”

“Personality quirk,” Kakashi supplied, even as his mind worked on taking apart what Tenzo had just told him. They hadn’t discussed the topic in many years, but after being accepted into ANBU, his kohai  had tried more than once to tell Kakashi the secrets of his old organization. It had felt almost like there was one thing in particular Tenzo had been trying to warn him about, something very important. Vexingly, his attempts had resulted in failure each time and a lot of pain on Tenzo’s part, so Kakashi had told him to leave it be. What were the odds that it was whatever ‘main thing’ Río was connected to? He felt his hackles rise.

Whatever it was, he suspected that it had been one of the reasons behind Tenzo agreeing to leave the organization so easily. If Rio had hurt him… she was a goner, no questions asked. He was almost hoping she had, just so he’d feel justified in offing her, and with gusto. Then again, Tenzo seemed to think she was dead…

“Start from the beginning,” Kakashi suggested. “Just give me a general overview on her if you can’t get into details.”

Tenzo nodded slowly. “Well, Río was already there when I… arrived. I don’t remember much of that time, but she was a few years older. Skills wise, she was… underwhelming, as far as I could tell. The thing about her was that – well. We all… well, I didn’t. I mean at first I–” He cut himself off, frowning deeply.

Curioser and curioser…

“Take your time; no pressure,” Kakashi encouraged awkwardly.

Tenzo coughed. “Right, I… err, sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll just… start from the beginning.” He coughed again. “Back when I was inducted into Root, the third shinobi war was still in full swing. The older generation of fighters, the ones from back then, they were… the harshest of Root agents – ever. We called them the veterans. They’d been there since the beginning, the generation who’d been personally trained by Danzo. They were the agents who took the brunt of the SSS-Ranks missions during the war, though most of them ended up dying before the end of it.

“The hierarchy among the veterans was really strict; so were their rules. Crossing them was out of the question – Danzo set the course of things, but the veterans were the scary ones, the ones who could hurt you, the ring leaders – and to come back to your question, they had it out for Río. But she’d brought it on herself. She didn’t respect protocol, doing things such as not wearing her mask in HQ, shutting doors in their faces on purpose and… honestly, thinking back on it, she didn’t do anything huge… but back then? You don’t disrespect protocol to a veteran’s face. You just don’t. And she did it. Constantly . She was crazy.”

Kakashi’s eyebrow rose. “Sounds intense.”

Tenzo snorted. “I guess. I wasn’t around for her initiation, but rumor had it she’d tried to off Danzo – more than once . That takes balls, especially repeat performances. Plus… I only learned about this later, but the reason why she was so high up in the ranks despite seemingly being unskilled was because of her talent for breaking out of places. An escape artist, I guess. Never saw her in action, but I do know that she broke many of our guys out of the highest security cells located in Iwa’s maximum security prisons, so she ought to have been good. Some of the veterans said that her skill was owed to her many escape attempts from HQ – another mark against her. Those were just rumors though, so don’t put much stock in them. There were a lot of rumors about her, anyway; some even saying that she remembered her life from before. I don’t know about that, but what was clear to everyone was that her loyalty was questionable at best.”

Kakashi leaned forward. That actually sounded… very promising. “Yes?” he prodded. “A disloyal Root agent?”

“It was more that no one trusted her,” Tenzo explained. “Oddly enough, the only person who seemed to have any faith in her at all was Danzo of all people, which is… yeah.

“But the veterans, who controlled what the rest of us thought, more than Danzo ever did back then, seemed to think that she was biding her time before trying to kill him once again, that she’d lulled him into a false sense of security somehow.” Tenzo scoffed. “Obviously, the notion anyone could manage such a thing is completely ludicrous. That old war hawk is the furthest from an idiot you can get – he must have had some kind of assurance to be so confident in her loyalty. But we were all paranoid and eager for an escape goat. Rio was that. Most of the veterans despised her on principle. But the one thing that they couldn’t forgive was that Danzo let her get away with her breaches of protocol. He even seemed to favor her in an odd way, which was very out of character for him. That was the final straw.”

Tenzo closed his eyes, heaved a sigh. “You must understand, Senpai, Root isn’t comparable to ANBU or any other Konoha organization. It’s a dark place. In Root it is a dog eat dog world, where the one thing everyone strives for – every single agent – is Danzo’s attention. His recognition, his favor, his… ugh.” Tenzo made a disgusted expression. “It sounds so insane as I say it now, but it was the way things were. Root is just so immersive… when you’re there, that’s what you become reduced to. The pressure to be loyal, to think exactly the same thoughts as the others, the fear of what will happen if you stick out – none of us wanted to be the next Río. We were taught, conditioned, pressured to want the same things, to fight, to think, to live the same way… t-to follow protocol. At any cost. I… you wouldn’t understand.” A long pause. Tenzo gathered himself. “But you were asking about Río. The point is, she was the outcast – the cockroach, we called her. No one would associate with her unless it was to put her down.

“I met her face to face when she was assigned as one of my regiment’s instructors. She was a lot younger than anyone else who was teaching and, in our eyes, with no particular skill. She didn’t deserve to be there. We were expected to hate her and doing so was easy. 

“She put us through hell, senpai. Her training methods seemed cruel and pointless to us. She didn’t teach us any forms, any jutsu, how to use a weapon. No. It seemed like she was just taking her inferiority, her resentment, out on us for no good reason other than that she could. We hated her so much you can’t even imagine. We tried to make every one of her lessons a living hell, fighting her in all the small things, following her instructions as reluctantly as our upbringing would allow, or sometimes exactly to the letter in order to make things difficult…” He paused. There was something sad in his gaze. “Her favorite lesson was how to hide. She’d take us to the river on some days. It was freezing; she’d tell us to hold our breath underwater for minutes and minutes on end, until some of us nearly blacked out or got hypothermia – there was always this medic on hand for that – Koi – and he had to interfere almost every lesson at some point or other.

“On other days she made us fight or run with broken limbs, or forced us to deplete all our chakra and then do survival exercises. She’d restrain us with manacles at times, telling us to free ourselves, fully aware that the only way to do so was to break or dislocate our own joints. Sometimes she put us on chakra suppressors for those exercises. You wanted to know how I got my poison tolerance? She made us eat cyanide – in small doses, yes, but it was horrible all the same. Then, when we were too tired or ill to so much as think , she’d ask us questions upon questions about battle tactics and dismiss our carefully thought-out answers, giving each problem more and more restrictions until finding a solution seemed impossible, and then her own suggestions would be completely out there and unusual, throwing protocol completely to the wayside. It was completely unfair, her solutions were always so odd none of us would've thought of them. We thought she did it to be a bitch.” He sighed. “She taught us many things, but they were useless and strange in our eyes, and we hated her all the more for it. We were glad when our time with her was done.”

Kakashi frowned, staring vacantly at his cup. “Tenzo,” he ventured. “You said that Danzo favored her. Why?”

Tenzo nodded. “Yeah… Rio usually kept her head down, and I didn’t have much contact with either of them, but there was one instance where it became very obvious.” He grimaced. “You know our seal? It wasn’t always there. It was placed on us by one of the younger veterans. He was a fuinjutsu specialist, and… well. Many of us were getting captured by Iwa. Torture was no joke, and, though information sharing was kept to a minimum, some things had slipped – each intel breach was more dangerous than the last. I heard that Río’s cell ended up breaking those guys out a lot of the time, but often it was too late. People died because of that intel. Many genin, chunin, jonin, even ANBU… and of course our own. Río’s prison breaking unit was good, but they weren’t fast enough… so Danzo put some guys on it – on figuring out how to avoid the information leakages. And that’s when Charca stepped up.” Tenzo paused grimly, took a long swing of the sake.

“Charca?” Kakashi queried curiously.

“Yes. Bloody came up with the perfect solution : created a fuinjutsu seal that would keep anyone who bore it quiet about all of the others connected to the seal, provided they weren’t dead – then and only then would the seal fade. After testing it, it turned out the seal worked to perfection – held up under torture, which was the point – or so we thought. All of us received it. All, but Río. See what I mean? She was the exception – the moment she heard about the seal, she flat-out refused. Threw a hissy fit, which wasn’t the norm for her (she usually knew to stay well out of our way), but this one time she didn’t, made a huge ruckus in fact. Didn’t let the sealers anywhere near her, ruined an entire bag of sealing paper, which was basically gold back in the war. She should’ve been punished for that – severely – but Danzo bent the rules for her.” Tenzo sighed forlornly. “I mean, she did get whipped in the back and chained to the wall for a day – but that was tame for a disobedience punishment – and… she never got the seal. He let her off the hook. Back then, it felt like a childish whim, like her obstinacy was putting a target on all of our backs. Hindsight's 20/20 senpai, and Río had a knack for smelling trouble a mile away. Maybe it was just because she and Charca hated each other’s guts, but she was the only one with enough foresight to avoid the seal. The only one.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” Kakashi whispered. “She didn’t receive it? Not even later?”

Tenzo nodded. “I would know, trust me. The veterans made a huge deal out of it. The lack of seal just made her even more distrustful in their eyes. As for the seal itself… it was the beginning of the end. But we didn’t find out about that until later. In the meantime, my regiment, the eighteenth, the one she’d been in charge of training, started getting deployed. That was my first taste of war, senpai. I was Root and emotionally… well, stunted, I guess, but that didn’t make it any less horrible. Watching the people I’d trained alongside, slept alongside, eaten alongside, hated Río’s guts alongside – just – just die – all around me, it was… it was…” He shuddered faintly, then composed himself. “Protocol dictated we show no emotion. Root was very strict about that, which only made it worse. Having to keep it all bottled in, to continue with the mission no matter what, to live for nothing but war and war and war, to get up in the morning knowing all I would do that day was train so I could kill more, or simply go out to the battlefield and put that training to use – it was…”

“Yeah,” Kakashi said quietly. They each took a big swing of sake. “Yeah. I know.”

After a pause, Tenzo continued. “But the thing is, despite how horrible it was, I found out later on that apparently we had it good. Out of all of Root, our regiment had the highest survival rates. The first month it could’ve been a coincidence, maybe also the second, but after a year had passed and most of us were still alive, we all knew that it was no fluke. Compared to the others, any soldier of the eighteenth was four times more likely to survive. Four times, senpai. Those odds were really, really good for wartime Root. Astoundingly good. They’re even good for non-war time Root. And as such, as you can probably imagine, we quickly became Danzo’s favorites. He said we were the children of war, loved to brag about it. His very best. His elite, the generation of the future. We ate it all up, were proud of ourselves – it was all so fucked up.

“But then, in an attempt to even things out, our regiment was broken apart. We were spread out into other squads, began to get partnered up with agents from other regiments. Working with them, I… we realized that things like being able to break one’s own bones in a desperate situation – and doing it well – being able to fight with chakra exhaustion or even on suppressors, knowing how to survive underwater or underground for hours, poison tolerance – these were not common skills. And they were all skills every single agent from the eighteenth knew like the back of their hand; a hard lesson, but a lesson well learned.

“It became apparent to all of us that this was what was keeping us alive. It was her training that was making the difference, the training we’d all boycotted and spat on. Of course, nobody ever spoke of it. No one ever acknowledged it, or thanked her, or told Danzo or the veterans. No one wanted to admit it, almost like we were ashamed that it was her doing. Río’s. The outcast. But we all knew, regardless.

“The veterans weren’t stupid; they put two and two together as well. Did I mention that they called Río the cockroach because she never died? We inherited that name. Our generation – we were the children of war first – but then we became the cockroaches – they started calling us that as a threat, I think. A warning that if we got chummy with Río, they’d make an example out of us just like they did her.” 

“And did you heed that warning?” Kakashi asked, voice quiet.

Tenzo balled his hand bitterly. There was a long pause. “I… I was just a scared, stupid little kid, senpai,” he said softly. “Of course I did. We all did. I never… none of us ever showed her anything but what could be shown. If not contempt, the kindest way some dared to treat her was indifference, and even that felt like pushing it. We never said thank you. We were too scared for that.”

“Tenzo… you were conditioned to do that. She wouldn’t hold it against you, I don’t think.”

Tenzo shook his head, as though wanting to avoid the topic – took another swing of sake, then another. Refilled both their cups. “Eventually, the war ended,” he continued hoarsely. “That was supposed to have been it, the end of our problems. No more suicide missions, no more children of war if there was no war, no more cockroaches if survival was no longer a commodity. I was hopeful at first… but things only got worse instead.”

“Worse?” Kakashi said incredulously.

“Yeah. Much, much worse.”

“How?”

“Well… to put it simply: one day, maybe half a year after the end of the war, Danzo just… disappeared. He was gone, senpai. Gone. Just like that. No one knew where he’d gone off to or what had happened to him. No one could even begin to guess where he was. We all looked for him, to no avail. And don’t get me wrong, Danzo is a right bastard, but his leaving was the worst thing that could’ve happened. His disappearance created a power vacuum… and Root descended into anarchy. Most veterans had died during the war. They had been Danzo’s rule enforcers. Without him, without the veterans, there were suddenly no laws, no order and no rules. We were just scarred, broken, dysfunctional tools without a hand to wield them. We turned on each other. Every man on his own. There was fighting, chaos and death. It was… I still have nightmares of that time some nights. But what came after was the true nightmare: after a month of senseless death and violence, Charca came out the victor. He seized the power and took Danzo’s place for himself. He was careful about it, very careful, and to the outside world, Danzo had never left. But within Root, things… changed.”

Kakashi stared at Tenzo, wide-eyed. How had he never gotten wind of this? This was… this was huge . Tenzo took a strong swing of the sake again and Kakashi followed suit. The bottle was almost empty.

“Changed… how?” he asked carefully.

“It was everywhere. In the atmosphere, the fear, the callousness with which he led us… the selfishness… but the worst part was, without a doubt, the new recruiting policy. Danzo had taken children because the war system couldn’t be sustained – good soldiers were needed desperately and there were none. Children were already being sent to the front lines. Danzo took them at a younger age and prepared them more, took their families away. It wasn’t right, but it made sense. In a way, his strategy worked, because Root played a large part in our victory. It was despicable… but I can understand where he was coming from. After the war ended, so too did the children disappearances. We of the eighteenth were the last generation to be trained by Danzo’s Root.” Tenzo frowned grimly. “With Charca, that changed. More and more orphans were brought into the fold. ‘To replenish what was taken by the war’, he said. Bullshit. We tried to stand up to him, tried to tell him to stop , but then it became apparent we couldn’t. We couldn’t, senpai. We were trapped.”

Kakashi inhaled. “The seal .”

Tenzo nodded. “The fucking seal. All those of us who’d been marked by it had to follow all of Charca’s orders to the letter. It was the worst, worst, worst prison. We couldn’t escape. But Rio, bloody Rio. Escape artist that she was. Heck. She had evaded it before it even happened – but she was the only one. She couldn’t do anything; she was alone. For the first time, we were ready to fight alongside her, but we couldn’t. We couldn’t.”

Tenzo went to pour himself another glass but accidentally tipped it. Kakashi caught it, just barely.

“You were saying?” 

“Right, w-where was I?” Tenzo muttered, slightly slurred.

“Charca.”

“Oh. Yes, him . Before I was taken in, the practice of erasing all the memories of children had been stopped, but with Charca, he did cruel things. Worse even. Much worse than before. He was so – so obsessed. Paranoid. He thought that – that we all wanted to betray him, you know? He pitted the new kids against each other in death matches, all so they’d only ever be loyal to him and him alone. He was… he was such a bastard . He began sending the rest of us on missions that became increasingly harder and harder. He was crazy. I thought sometimes he wanted us all to die.

“And we did. We were dropping like flies. But you know what? Those of the eighteenth, we weren’t flies. We were cockroaches, and cockroaches don’t die even when you step on them over and over and over. – Suddenly, it was a point of… of pride, you know. What we were. She was, I mean. Río. Not like we ever bloody told her, but we were. Proud. She was this spitfire, didn’t give a damn about the rules that made no sense, she was free, she was, she was… Fuck. He killed her. I should’ve done something, I should’ve… I was such a – a bystander . I killed her.”

“Tenzo,” Kakashi cut in. “You didn’t. You didn't. Got it? You…”

“I… senpai. We all thought she was like, like immortal, you know? It was so stupid. ‘course she wasn’t. But, but it was like… she just never died. Got out of any situation, always. She had made us into the best, into the survivors; in our minds, she was unkillable. Maybe not the strongest, but definitely the most resilient. Except then she died. Koi, he, he killed her.”

“Koi? Who’s that? I thought Charca…”

“No, like. Listen.” Tenzo’s eyes were unfocused. “Koi was this guy – this medic. He kept… helping us. You know, for the lessons? Río’s lessons? Like, he was the medic.”

“Oh, yeah. The medic.”

“Right. He… Koi… after her death, he had a very important role… kept the new recruits alive, even after Charca’s death matches. We bought him time; he healed ‘em. He was great. Quiet, but great. I… I never got a confirmation, but I think he may have been Rio’s friend. I hope he was, you know? That she had someone.”

“But then… Koi? Why would he kill her… makes no sense.”

“No, like. Things came to a head between Charca ‘n Río. It’s a long story, but bas’cally, Charca knew that, that suddenly we all were team Río, you know? Paranoid fuck. Don’t know how he knew. Not even Río knew, but he did. So he sta – staged a confrontation one day. They fought, he won. Not that it was a fair fight. Anyway, he had one of the guys holding her in place and forced her to her knees, all meganomalic-like? Megamolanic? Mega–”

“And then?” Kakashi interrupted.

“Right. And then, Charca goes all like: ‘take the seal, you bitch’, ‘cause the seal could only be given willingly. And then Rio goes like, ‘not gonna happen’ and then she spat in his face. The idiot. T’was too rebellious for her own good.

“Sick fuck flew into a rage ‘n strapped her down. Then he started carving a – a fuinjutsu on her. Somethin’ bad. Río goes ballistic and starts thrashing like crazy. She grabs his face all like – lemme go – and then this weird shit happened. Like, Charca… lost it in that moment. He began to scream. He freaks out and, jumps off her. Won’t go near Rio again. Starts barking orders like mad, but he was wonky in the head ‘cause they made no sense. When he got it back together – like, a moment later, she was gone. She was supposed to have been on the floor, bleeding out from the carved wound, but you know how she was – escape artist? You should’a seen Charca’s face. Completely lost it. It was the best. We all started cheering, thought she’d escaped for good. But then he… he sent a squad after her… Koi was the leader. It was a direct order and Koi couldn’t… he couldn’t not follow it. He had to. He couldn’t dis-disobey. We should’ve stopped him. We should’ve done something! None of us did.”

Kakashi and Tenzo stared at each other.

“And then?” Kakashi whispered.

“Koi… he… he came back a few days later. Was carrying her corpse. Never spoke again. Not a single word.”

 

“But that’s…” Kakashi stared at Tenzo, at a loss for words. “That’s insane…”

“Yeah, senpai. Yeah…” He took another large gulp.

“But, but…” Kakashi’s mind churned. Río… but she was alive! So that must mean… that must mean that Koi had done something, right? He was a medic. Maybe he… he faked her death somehow? But how did he avoid following Charca’s command? And where on earth had Danzo gone? Was the current Danzo still Charca? But no… that didn’t make sense. From what he had heard of Río, Kakashi really doubted she’d ever work under Charca willingly. It hadn’t sounded like she was such a great fan of Danzo either though… but she’d been the only one who could’ve gone after him, the one who might’ve brought him back to Konoha. Had she?

“You… you know, Tenzo…” Kakashi found himself voicing. “If – if Río had – y’know. Survived.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, what would… what would have happened? Do you think she could’ve – uh – could’ve… kicked Charca out? Taken chrage – charge?”

Tenzo took a swing of sake, accidentally spilling some of it on his chin and shirt. “Pffff… mmmmm. Dunno, senpai. Like, like yeah. Me and the guys, we supported her. Like, for sure. But… but it wasn’t such a clear-cut thing. Ch-charca had his s’pporters too, yeah? So… If Río had survived, and, and somehow found a… way to turn off the seal even… it would’a been carnage. Total carnage. Root would’a died, most likely. Fifty fifty Rio’s guys versus Charca’s. He ind-doctrinna-ted those new kids like, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“So… both sides would have… killed each other. No winners.”

“No winners. No Root left. Hate to say this, but that woulda been bad. Pretty bad. ‘cause, like, we added a lot to the budget, you know? L-like almost as – as much as ANBU.”

“Pfff,” snorted Kakashi. “No way. Those guys are tiny compared to, to ANBU. Mini.”

“Yeah, but senpai, like… Root don’t have salt – sal – salaries… and like… we used to get assigned, like, the kindsa missions you took on. You . Back in the day. Know what I mean? But like, Root always gets those too. The ‘no return freak show’ missions. So like – loads of money – no salaries – f-free work, no pay, no pay to the family if you die… know what I mean?”

Kakashi nodded sluggishly. “So, it would have been bad if Root disappeared right after the war,” he conceded. “Still think we should dis… disband it though.”

“If only Rio was still alive…”

“But there’s not much she could’ve done, anyway,” Kakashi said. 

“I guess… I mean…” Tenzo frowned. “Yeah… but like… the best thing she coulda done was… was lookin’ for… for Danzo. Becuase Charca’s old supporters would still… support him. And Río’s supporters… would too. So no one dies.”

Kakashi paused at that. Look for Danzo…? Well, if Danzo hadn’t died during Charca’s mandate then… Danzo coming back would’ve been their best bet to avoid a slaughter… wait. “Oh, fuck . So that’s what happened. Río hauled him back.”

“Nah.” Tenzo stared forlornly into the distance. “Río died, ‘s what happened. T’was so long ago already. Not coming back, she isn’t. No clue ‘bout Danzo though…”

They both stared droopily at one another for a few seconds, though Kakashi’s brain was desperately trying to complete the metaphorical jigsaw puzzle.

“But… but Charca is dead,” he blurted sluggishly. “Right? He’d dead…” 

“Wah…?”

“Yes. I mean it. How else… would we be talking about it?” Tenzo’s eyes widened. “Think about it,” Kakashi insisted. “You… you tried to tell me this before. But – but you couldn’t, right? And now…”

“–I just did!” Tenzo exclaimed, springing from (and toppling) his chair. “Oh my god, senpai! I just told you! I told you everything !” They both grinned at each other. “He no longer has the seal on ‘im! That fucker is dead!”

“Recon that’s the only possibility, huh,” Kakashi agreed with a smirk.

“Fuck! We gotta what’s it called? The toasty thing?”

“Uh, kampai.”

“Yeah, that.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “You are so drank man. …I mean, drunk.”

“Pfff, senpai, like you’re one to talk…” he filled both their glasses. “C’mon!”

Kakashi lifted his, grinning a little. “Fair enough.” They raised them into the air jubilantly. “What are we toasting to?”

“The bastard dying?” Tenzo suggested. “Río’s spittle as it hit his face?”

“I’ll say,” Kakashi grinned, thrusting his glass upward and managing to miraculously not swamp the table. “Cheers to that.”

“Cheers indeed, senpai!” They clinked their glasses and downed the shot. 

 

The next two hours came and went, the clock on Tenzo’s wall testified to that, but Kakashi didn’t really remember any of it. He regained his senses around three in the morning. Well, some of them, at least. Tenzo had moved to the couch after making weird wooden dolls that were now strewn all around the flat. He was half-asleep half-awake staring at one of his house plants dreamily. Kakashi decided to not look too deeply into that, choosing instead to go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on his face. He needed to think – this was important.

The knowledge he’d gleaned from Tenzo was invaluable. It was good to know that the Danzo they were dealing with was the actual elder, not a much younger, crueler, fuinjutsu-master version of him. Still… it seemed odd. Why didn’t Tenzo know about Río’s abilities? He’d described her as someone with average (for ANBU Root) combat skills and a talent for prison breaking and survival… but what about her obvious talent for the mind arts? How had Tenzo missed that ? Her last confrontation with Charca, when she had grabbed his face, had most likely been a psychic attack, but Tenzo had described it as if he didn’t know what it was…

“Tenzo… what was Río skilled in?” Kakashi asked after a moment.

“Huh? Oh… I dunno. She just taught us survival stuff… we knew that she was bad at forms and traditional sparring. Bad at memorizing the moves, but she was real nimble…”

“But don’t you get the feeling she ought to have had some ace up her sleeve?” Kakashi pressed. “I mean, if she managed to stay alive for so long…”

“Could be,” Tenzo agreed. “I mean… I always wondered… all the things she taught us, they were dead useful and all, but where did she learn them? How did she learn them? ‘cause there was no one else who taught that stuff in Root.” 

“You don’t know how.”

“No. It’s something I’ve thought about a lot, and my only guess is – well – experience.”

Kakashi nodded grimly.

 

In a way, he supposed that Río’s mind reading was most likely the secret behind her prison-breaking. As a ninja who’d done his fair share of infiltration, he knew that war-time prisons were easy enough to break into, but a nightmare to get out of alive, with intricate maps and confusing patrolling schedules. Outside surveillance of the building could do little to prepare one for what awaited within… but if she could read the mind of one of the guards, then she would know the prison layout and the patrolling schedules, as well as any necessary information to pull off an infiltration (and escape)… so her skill in that area made sense.

Even so, his talk with Tenzo had only led to more questions than it had given him answers. For example, where had Río gone after her alleged death? What had happened to her? And to Danzo? In fact, why would he have favored someone so openly rebellious as her? Kakashi was starting to realize that there was a lot about the councilman he didn’t know, a lot about Root he didn’t know. Where had the elder been? What had kept him away? Had Río been the one to bring him back? How had Charca died? He was dead, right? And the biggest question of all – how much of this was the hokage aware of?

---

Yamanaka main house, the early hours of the morning

Yamanaka Inoichi was shaken awake by a noise outside his window. He immediately shot up from the bed in alarm, but Chihiro, bless her heart, took his hand and mumbled something that sounded like ‘shigagunno’nemey’. Being familiar enough with her half asleep vocabulary, Inoichi was able to translate this to ‘it’s Shikaku, not an enemy’ and immediately relaxed. Still, what the hell was Shikaku doing there at three in the morning?

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered to his wife, who was already asleep again.

Cursing Shikaku’s ancestors, Inoichi dragged himself out of bed and toward the front door, opening it. His friend was indeed standing at the doors well, staring at him.

“Shikaku, what the hell?” Inoichi snapped. “Ino’s party is tomorrow! You know she’s been upset with me for being so distant lately and my plan to appease her won’t work if I look like a zombie tomorrow!”

Shikaku rolled his eyes. “She’ll get over it. Besides, you’re so awfully cheerful at gatherings; it’s better this way.”

Inoichi glared at him. “Whatever. What is this really about, Shikaku?”

The Nara advanced further into the kitchen. “Well… I just had a thought.”

“A thought.”

“More like, a suspicion. There’s something I need to confirm.”

Inoichi’s gaze sharpened. “Confirm what exactly?”

“Well,” said Shikaku slowly. “I need to know anything you can tell me about your encounter with Yugao Uzuki.”

Inoichi frowned. “My encounter?” 

The Nara nodded, watching as his friend’s expression turned thoughtful. 

“Her infiltration was a nightmare for our division. And I do mean a nightmare. The intelligence units got a lot of heat for not catching on earlier, and torture and interrogation because… well. Long story short we had her and we let her escape.”

“Wait… what? I hadn’t heard about that.”

“It was kept under wraps to mitigate the public embarrassment, but yes.” Inoichi sighed, rubbing his temples. “I was so embarrassed I didn’t even tell you…”

“Wow. And here I thought you were as candid as a saintly flower.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated,” Inoichi snapped, flushing slightly.

Shikaku barked out a laugh. “Alright my friend, so how did you screw up so bad that a teenager escaped from your headquarters?”

Inoichi frowned grimly. “Well, once Uzuki was discharged from the hospital after her and Hatake’s return, our guys brought her in for questioning. It was the typical post-capture procedure. Hatake was still asleep on a hospital bed at that point and Uzuki, who’d woken up from an artificial coma somehow, was already up and about. In hindsight, the fact that she woke up so early should’ve been the first hint. Her senses must’ve been on high alert; there’s no other explanation for it, with how banged up she was. The second hint should’ve been how jumpy she was when we called her in for questioning, but I thought back then that given her previous imprisonment, it was understandable. Long story short, I vacated the room she was in for just a sec, leaving Sakurawa and a few others behind. Next thing I know, I come back and the room is empty. Nobody in sight. And that was it. I never saw Uzuki again.”

“Damn.” Shikaku said. “What did you do when you found it empty? Were there any clues?”

“No signs of a struggle, if that’s what you mean. It all looked like it was in order, so at first I didn’t worry. I figured Sakurawa had decided to relocate for some reason. It’s against protocol, so I was pissed… but not worried. Fast-forward fifteen minutes, having realized I can’t find them, I’m running around the building shouting profanities at Sakurawa, then switched to stealth mode as I was getting increasingly worried. No one answered. My worry spread over the staff and we all started looking for them like crazy, especially Uzuki. But by then it was too late. When we found Sakurawa and the others tied up and gagged in a storage closet a while later, she was long gone.”

Shikaku stared at his friend with furrowed brows. “Don’t you guys restrain anyone you’re about to interrogate?”

“That’s the thing – we do. The last time I laid eyes on Uzuki, she was in chains and had taken a chakra suppressor.”

Shikaku swore under his breath.

“My thoughts exactly.” 

“Eh, if it was like that… you guys couldn’t have prevented it.”

“That’s just the thing!” Inoichi said. “Something about her was odd, I remember thinking it right before I left to get her file! I should’ve listened to that gut feeling. But of course I took one look at her and dismissed that notion.”

“Why? Did she smile at you charmingly or something?” Shikaku asked sarcastically.

Inoichi rolled his eyes. “No, idiot. What I mean is that Uzuki looked like even a genin could beat her in a spar. A frail thing, with coltish limbs and… dunno. A girl. Still, she was ANBU and I should’ve known better. I should’ve known the way she was looking at me was weird.”

 

“Oh? In what sense?”

“In the ‘my cover will be blown’ sense I imagine? Geeze Shikaku.”

“You imagine? Or is that just what your logic is telling you, not your instinct?”

Inoichi frowned. “I imagine you have a reason to be asking me such specific questions?” His expression turned thoughtful. “But to answer you, I… actually don’t know.”

Shikaku sighed. “How do you not know? Heck, you can read minds .”

“It’s not that easy,” Inoichi snapped. “The first time I looked at her, I didn’t pay Uzuki much mind. Her behavior was a little off, yes, but I simply assumed that the prospect of being interrogated after so long in captivity had frightened her. She looked like she’d barely hit puberty – not freaking spy material. Honestly, Shikaku, it was a busy day and I had things to do, Sakurawa was in charge of what should’ve been an easy interrogation on a trial basis, and I was only really there in case he botched it somehow.”

“Well, botch it he did.”

Inoichi snorted drily. “Yes. That he did. Till this day we have no clue how Uzuki escaped. In a way, it was almost a consolation that no one else managed to catch her either.”

“Heh. Always the optimist, are you?”

A snort. “I say that now but back then I refused to show my face at work for a month, Shikaku. You wouldn’t believe how many times I revisited my memories of our brief encounter. It was only then that I realized something definitely didn’t add up about Uzuki’s behavior, but I couldn’t even be sure whether it was my new knowledge of her being a spy that made me think it.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I said, it was something in her expression. The reason I didn't see it before, I think, was because I couldn’t make her face out properly – it was black and blue – with a busted nose, a peach-sized black eye and bruises everywhere. You try reading into the nuances of an expression when half their face looks like a purple beachball!”

Shikaku sobered. In a way, the injuries of her face had been a big help… “It’s curious that the medics didn’t heal it. Could she have had an ally undercover?”

“Hold your horses, man; I already checked,” Inoichi said with thin lips. “And no. Too much healing isn’t medically advised, so the less dangerous injuries are often left to heal naturally. One of the medics  testified that Uzuki did ask him not to heal it, but the request wasn’t outlandish enough to be suspicious, nor detrimental to her overall health, so he and his colleagues let her face be.”

“And yet,” Shikaku drawled. “you say something was off about her expressions, despite that you couldn’t make them out well. What exactly?”

“Well… I don’t know,” Inoichi muttered. “It’s hard to put a finger on it. Maybe it was the way she stared at me… there was something emotional about it, but her body language wasn’t terrified or anything like that. She was facing away from Sakurawa, facing to me despite not being the lead in the case, and her eyes didn’t leave me the entire time… not for a single second. I remember being a little unnerved. It was like she was drinking me in.”

Shikaku swore loudly.

Inoichi tensed. “Shikaku? What is it? Have you figured something out?”

Silence.

Inoichi tired again. “Shikaku?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” The Nara head rubbed his temples tiredly. “I really, really hope I’m wrong about this.”

“Wrong about what, Shikaku?” Inoichi asked sharply. 

His answering stare was troubled, expression pinched. He sighed. “I… I think you might want to sit down for this one.”

 

Chapter 22: Consequences pt 3

Notes:

Finally, I'm uploading the last part of this chapter. This is personally my favorite one... you guys will also be in for a surprise at the end, hehe

 

The following day, Sakura was discharged from the hospital. Shikamaru’s mother, Yoshino, had come to pick her up. Apparently, since Sakura’s mom didn’t have enough money to get her a formal yukata for Ino’s birthday and Ino didn’t have any spares, Ino’s mother had settled it with a friend of hers who had some yukata left over from her childhood that she would lend one to Sakura – and this woman happened to be Shikamaru’s mom.

And now, on the morning before Ino’s birthday party, Sakura found herself walking next to Yoshino Nara en route to the woman’s house, feeling about as awkward as is to be expected in such a situation.

It quickly became apparent that Yoshino was a woman who didn’t fear silences, much to Sakura’s dismay, and her natural beauty only added to the intimidation. Her skin was fair and unblemished, her jawline sharp – but not too sharp – and her cheekbones looked as if they’d been carved out of marble. Her long eyelashes cast shadows on them, and her hair was so black it might as well have been made of darkness. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Yoshino asked after a moment.

Sakura flushed, head snapping away as she forcefully told herself to play it cool.

“No, it’s just…” I really like your face seemed kind of creepy. “...are you wearing make-up?” 

Yoshino tilted her head. “I am,” she admitted. “Well spotted!”

Sakura blinked. “Huh?”

“Yes. You’ve noticed my scar, right?”

Errr… what scar? 

Yoshino laughed. “Why yes! I noticed you have one on your forehead that you’re trying to conceal as well! Mine starts here, see?” Yoshino said easily. She pointed with her finger to a spot on her collarbone, then drew the finger upward, stopping at the bridge of her nose, close to her eye.

Sakura stared at her with shock. “It’s that large?” 

“Yep. I prefer to keep it covered for obvious reasons. Underestimation is a powerful weapon, you know.”

“Oh, right.”

“Plus my husband would feel threatened if everyone saw mine’s bigger than his, ne?”

“Um…” Sakura’s cheeks were starting to heat up.

“Anyway!” Yoshino continued cheerily. “Tell me about your Academy days, Sakura-chan. Did you ever interact with my son?”

“W-well, we didn’t c-coincide a whole lot…” 

“And just how often did Shikamaru sleep in class?” Yoshino’s voice was so sweet it felt corrosive.

“Um, well… not that much…” Sakura stuttered, suddenly nervous. 

“What do you mean, not that much? ”

“Eh, um… not at all, I mean! Did you say sleep? I understood ‘eat’! I was confused because he didn’t eat in class except during lunch, ahaha…”

“He didn’t eat , you say… but how about his detentions? Was he punished more often than other students?”

 

As Sakura stuttered through a heavily edited narration of her (and Shikamaru’s) Academy days, she concluded that Yoshino Nara was… terrifying. And as much as she disliked the Nara’s slacker of a son on principle, Sakura wasn’t about to sell him out to the death ripper herself. She wasn’t that cruel.

 

They kept on talking, stiltedly on Sakura’s part, gleefully terrifyingly on Yoshino’s, until eventually arriving at the Nara lands. Thank god for small mercies.

“So that’s the Nara forest, huh,” Sakura muttered factually, peering at the trees out back. “It’s really something.”

Yoshino smiled at her beatifically. “It is.”

“And Ino’s party will take place here?” Sakura asked awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. It was a stupid question. There were people setting up stalls and a banner that said ‘happy birthday’, with many tables all around it. Way to make yourself look like a retard, Sakura.

Yoshino nodded. “The Yamanaka properties are mostly green houses, so they asked us to let them organize the feast in the grounds. We agreed. Shikamaru wouldn’t have let us hear the end of it if we didn’t, even if he’ll deny it till his dying breath.” 

Sakura smiled. Maybe Ino’s slacker friend was redeemable after all.

 

They trailed through the different little houses until getting to a charming one by the edge of the forest which was apparently Shikamaru’s. Once there, Yoshino made Sakura try on the various yukata which she’d owned at that age, and they ended up settling on a light lila one that had a beautiful sky blue pattern on it which reminded Sakura of anemones. It was the one that fit her size the best.

After that was done, Yoshino left to do some errands and Sakura was stuck with Shikamaru and Shikamaru’s dad until further notice. 

Shikamaru’s dad, Shikaku, did indeed have a lot of scars on his face, though Sakura couldn’t really appreciate them properly because he was hunched over a scroll. Shikamaru was sipping tea and looking about as lost as she felt on what to do.

“Er, hi.”

“…good morning.” Oh wait, it was noon.

That was it. The situation was so painfully awkward she wished she could jump out of the window. Anything to get away. As it was, Sakura was forced to sit there and fidget whilst Shikamaru sat there, not lowering his tea cup for minutes on end but not actually drinking anything, just moving the tea around, all whilst staring determinedly at a bookcase. 

The monotony was interrupted when suddenly, Shikaku leapt up from his seiza position.

“Oh for god’s sake, son!” They both stared at him with wide alarm. Some of the tea spilled. Shikaku rolled his eyes at the ceiling as though sending some prayer at the heavens. “You. Your name is Sayaka, right?”

Shikamaru facepalmed. “It’s Sakura, dad.”

“Sakura,” Shikaku corrected. “Nice to meet you, Sakura-chan.”

“Uh, likewise.”

“As my son seems to have forgotten his manners, well… can I get you anything?” he scratched his head, looking like he was trying to remember where exactly ‘anything’ was. Sakura suppressed a nervous giggle.

“It’s fine, Nara-san. I’m just waiting for Yoshino-san to come back and tell me what to do.”

Well, that was straight forward… 

In any case, Shikaku didn’t seem to care. “Ah, my wife… she does that. Anyway, Shikamaru, entertain your guest.” He tapped his head. “Need to get back to work, but holler for me if you need anything, kid.”

“...sure.”

Sakura stared at Shikaku for a while longer as he sat back in front of his scroll and appeared to be dead to the world.

“Ugh what a drag,” Shikamaru muttered, standing up. “Do you want tea?”

Sakura shook her head no.

“Right. Well, do you want to play shogi?”

She shook her head no again.

“Do you want to… read?”

She should probably say yes at some point.

“Er… what books do you have?”

“Well, military tactics by Kojiro Toronaga, military tactics by–” 

Someone facepalmed behind them. 

“Shikamaru, the girl isn’t a copy of you!” Shikaku interrupted exasperatedly. “Of course she doesn't want to read military tactics by Kojiro Toronaga!”

Wait, what? Did they think she was some simpleton who couldn’t enjoy a non-fiction?

“Who says I don’t?” Sakura sniped. By the time she’d realized just what she had done, it was too late. Both father and son had turned to stare at her with equally wide-eyed expressions. Her words only now catching up with her, Sakura’s cheeks heated up in horror… but she refused to back down. She had her intellectual pride after all! She could damn well read some boring history book if she so pleased!

“You’re into that sort of stuff?” Shikamaru asked.

“Of course I am,” she replied archly. 

“Oh, really? What books do you have?”

Sakura bit her lip. “Well, I don’t have any books on it, but I like to talk to my grandfather about that stuff.”

“You… talk to your grandfather about it.” Shikamaru’s tone said it all. “You do realize Toronaga was born way before him, right?”

That does it! Sakura thought furiously.

“Yes,” she snapped. “I realize that. And if you must know, we discuss things such as  the Hoshi formation, or the Nanasonae , the crane’s wings counter attack, the last stand engetsu… or the Honjin Sonae at the battle of Kawanakajima…  by Takeda Shingen. Smart guy. Much better strategist than the Toronaga guy you like, if you ask me.”

Shikamaru opened his mouth, then closed it when Sakura kept talking.

“And I know what you’re gonna say! ‘Toronaga’s much better because he was so great and his accomplishments proved it and yada yada’, whatever.  Let me tell you, one thing is being good at getting others’ allegiances  and general politicking but another thing entirely is raw strategy and at that, Shingen had him totally beat. He could read ahead like it was nobody’s business and if you don’t believe me, then–“ She’d been about to launch into a long-winded rant on the topic of the months precluding the Kawanakajima battle that made Shingen’s strategy so brilliant (her Jii-chan was a big fan of that battle in particular), but cut herself off when she noticed the incredulous looks being shot at her. Sakura’s cheeks lit on fire. She immediately realized that she must be coming across as an insufferable know-it-all and a nerd besides. She didn’t care that much about the former, but if Shikamaru told Ino how much of a nerd she was… shit. “Not that I’m THAT interested in strategy or anything…!” Sakura added awkwardly. “My grandpa just told me about those and… I guess I have a decent memory?” 

“Right…” said Shikamaru. “You’re troublesome.”

A beat of silence.

“Your… grandfather?” Shikaku asked next, perplexed.

“Yes, he – er…” Sakura cut herself off, biting her lip. He’s dying . Jiichan’s illness was a painful thought. 

“He what?” Shikamaru wondered, earning a look from his father.

No tact…

Sighing internally, Sakura decided to just tell them. “He’s… staying at the hospital right now. I’ve been visiting him a lot and we usually talk about that. He’s a lawyer but his favorite pastime is reading old history books on strategy.” Sakura wanted him to be as happy as possible, in case these were his last… days, and well, if talking about some old coots’ military conflicts could make him happy, then Sakura gladly would. She’d even found that she liked those discussions.

Shikamaru stared at her, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead the more Sakura talked. 

Shikaku appeared bemused by the situation. “Well,” he said with a chuckle. “Then I’m sure your grandfather would be delighted with Shikamaru’s idea, but that still doesn’t mean you have to go along with it, Sakura-chan. You can find something else to do.”

“Er, it’s fine…”

“What else does your grandpa like to do?” Shikamaru asked eagerly, clearly more interested in the topic of Sakura’s grandfather than the topic of Sakura being his guest.

Sakura mentally sighed in exasperation. No wonder he drove Ino up the wall!

“Well, he likes to talk about chess a lot, but I don’t know how to play, so…” 

“Chess?” Shikamaru questioned, wrinkling his nose. “What’s that?”

“Um, it’s a strategy game.” Sakura tried to describe it to him, but she wasn’t exactly a connoisseur herself, and so failed at it quite miserably.

Surprisingly, Shikaku apparently knew a whole lot about chess so he was able to fill them in.

“It’s a strategy game that a lot of people play overseas… but it’s not very popular here. The rules are reminiscent of shogi.” He nodded toward his son. “Think shogi without promotions.”

“Boring,” Shikamaru replied, earning a scowl from his father.

“Simplicity can be more complex than the intricate. Every good tactician–”

“That’s great, dad. I still think shogi’s better.”

Shikaku huffed. “Don’t be too hasty now. In fact, I have an idea. Sakura, would you like to learn how to play chess? I have a board upstairs, and I’m certain your grandfather would be delighted if you did.”

Sakura blinked. That was true. And since she was stuck dealing with Shikamaru anyway, at least she’d be doing something useful. “I’d like that.”

Shikaku nodded. “Great, I’ll go fetch it then.”

Shikamaru groaned, mumbling something about shogi superiority.

 

 

A few minutes later, after Shikaku had briefly gone over the rules for them, Sakura and Shikamaru were hunched over the chess board, wrapped in the mechanics of the table game. This was both their first time playing, and Sakura was annoyed to find that Shikamaru was much better than her. Apparently, he had a lot of practice at ‘shogi’. Ugh .

Even so, Sakura had her intellectual pride and his beating her had bruised it. That the class slacker could best her at anything remotely academic was simply unacceptable. And so, spirits aflame, she set her mind to the task of beating him right. Freaking. Now .

Soon, she had entered the zone. This only happened when Sakura was concentrating really hard, which she usually hadn’t even needed to do for simple things like Academy tests, so very few people had actually seen how intense she could get.

By the end of the first game, which she’d lost, Shikamaru had looked bored.

By the end of the second game, which she’d also lost, Shikamaru had been frowning and had looked slightly put out.

By the middle of the third game, which was turning out to be by far the longest, with prolonged waiting times on each side at every move, Sakura felt slightly better about her chances. Shikamaru looked like he’d bitten into a sore lemon. Had she looked up, she might’ve noticed Shikaku staring between her and his son in a mix of utter bafflement, disbelief and wonder.

 

Unfortunately, they never got around to finishing the third game because Ino showed up out of the blue, stating that she and Sakura had ‘important girl things to do’, and that they’d be by later to pick up Sakura’s yukata – yes, right now Shikamaru, don’t be an old toady and leave Sakura out of your old man hobbies! – then promptly dragged a (secretly dejected) Sakura away from the board.

Ino had henceforth proceeded to whisk her away and to her own house, much to the befuddlement of the two gaping Nara (and Sakura), where she was promptly given an apron and told that they’d be making lunch for themselves – Ino’s favorite. 

…Sakura just rolled with it. She was kind of upset about not getting to whipe the smirk off Shikamaru’s dumb mug though. Urgh! She’d almost had him! But she wasn’t about to say that to Ino lest the blonde get weird ideas.

“But pig, what about the party?” Sakura complained instead. “If we eat now, we won’t have any appetite left for the banquet!”

“Duh, that’s the whole point, Forehead!” Ino exclaimed, going into a rant on how her marriage prospects might be impacted negatively if people saw her gorging herself on food like a wild animal, hence the need to show up with a full stomach.

Sakura thought that it was all boggus, but it was Ino’s big day, so who was she to go against her wishes?

And so, it was said and done. After loads of fun cooking together, getting into a mild food fight and cleaning up the mess, Ino and Sakura had a delicious lunch and stuffed their bellies to maximum capacity, and then Sakura invited Ino to the spa for her birthday present (with two coupons that a civilian had given her for minding her rowdy kids for her).

 

 

All in all, it had been a brilliant day so far, and the two girls returned to the Nara’s house in high spirits for the party. There, Yoshino and Ino’s mom Chihiro (who were apparently best friends) fussed over them and helped them with their make up. They ate some more, just to make sure that Ino absolutely didn’t have to resist any temptation at all to gorge herself on all the food, and then, once twilight hit, it was time for the party to begin.

 

 

The set up was beautiful, with little flickering lanterns everywhere, and so were the people in their expensive yukata. Everywhere Sakura looked, she spotted ninja from clans, and when Ino at some point had to leave for a formal introduction to so and so, Sakura found herself stumbling into her old classmate, Hanabi’s sister.

“Oh, Hinata-san! It’s been a while, huh?”

Hinata, who was clad in an absolutely gorgeous white yukata, nodded shily and even smiled. Sakura, who really didn’t know anybody else at the party, decided then and there that she’d cling to the girl until Ino came back and was surprised to find that Hinata seemed to like her.

Sakura remembered thinking that she was weird back at the Academy, but now she was discovering that Hinata was actually very sweet, if terribly shy. She’d been doing her best to coax the girl out of her shell and succeeding only marginally at it when it happened: a few tables back, Choji Akimichi began to choke and cough and cough – seemed unable to stop – and then foam started bubbling out of his mouth – Sakura heard Ino run over and start screaming, and more people started screaming also, and then she watched as someone died for the second time in her life.

Choji Akimichi’s body lay motionless on the ground.

As if on cue, everywhere around her people started to panic. Choking and screams filled the air, the taste of fear overwhelming.

“ POISON! ” someone screamed.

Sakura barely felt Hinata cling to her arm with a vice grip and faintly thanked her lucky stars for Ino’s ridiculous insistence to eat before the party. From the looks of it, the food had somehow been poisoned in large quantities – this was bad, holly shit, this was very bad. Was this Shi-chan’s Disaster of Doom?

 

Frantic now, Sakura stood on her tiptoes and jumped around, trying to no avail to pick out Ino’s telltale blonde hair in the frenzied crowd. She’d been there a moment ago! 

“Ino!” No one answered. “Ino! Ino!” Her voice was drowned out by the screams.

Then people started running in the opposite direction and why were they running– 

She understood the reason when suddenly, when there was an explosion that sounded too close for comfort, and then another one, even closer.

“Enemy ninja!” someone yelled.

There was more chaos and more screams, shoving and pushing. Someone rammed into her ribs so hard Sakura stumbled and almost fell to the ground. Her ribs felt tender but the sudden spike of adrenaline kept her from caring. From her lowered, off-valance position, Sakura began to realize just how dangerous that fall would’ve been. The crowd continued to press in on her on all sides, as if to confirm her thoughts. Had she fallen to the ground, she’d have been stomped to death.

“We have to move,” she panted over the chaos. Hinata was sobbing next to her and Sakura realized that she was the more coherent of the two. Shakily, she took the girl’s hand. “Hinata, do you hear me? We have to get out of here.”

Once more she called out for Ino but there was no answer. She couldn’t afford to keep looking for her anymore. Somehow, that realization was crushing. Sakura prayed with all her might that Ino was alright and then turned tail and dragged Hinata behind her.

 

 

She could tell immediately that they wouldn’t make it like this. Desperate, she started pushing her way through in the direction of the forest. If she was orienting herself right, they could cut through some trees and come out on the other end of the compound this way.

“Sakura, my father, he’s not here!” Hinata was sobbing. Sakura noticed that her byakugan was activated and she was looking around frantically. She also remembered that Hinata’s father happened to be an important clan head… shit.

“What about Shikaku or Inoichi? Or any of the other clan heads? Can you see them?”

Hinata shook her head desperately. “Sa- Sakura, what now? What– what if they’ve been ca– captured – or worse–?”

“Don’t think about it,” Sakura snapped, stressed beyond belief. 

“But Sakura!”

“We – we’ll go to your house,” Sakura decided. “The Hyuga compound is far away from here right? Hopefully your father will be there, and in any case, I’m sure there’ll be a lot of strong shinobi in the area as well.” It was the safest place Sakura could think of… her parents were civilians so they should be evacuating by now. They’d be fine. For now she needed to find a competent adult ninja who could tell her what to do, where to go. Her first choice was Kakashi, but locating the man was a Herculean task on an easy day. No, some responsible Hyuga was a better bet.

Hinata nodded shakily, and together they ran into the night, far away from Ino and the Naras’ burning forest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’ve been called here too, huh?” Hiashi Hyuga asked as he dropped down on a chair at the war council table, slightly tipsy from the party.

Inoichi and Shikaku, who had arrived at the same time as him nodded. Shikaku frowned. Hiashi, tipsy? That was odd. Come to think of it, he felt very comfortable too… not tipsy or anything… just pleasantly slow… but he’d barely had anything to drink?

“I’m missing Ino-chan’s party for this –  it better be good,” Inoichi grumbled next to him, swaying a little.

The other clan heads were all present already, and so were the elders. All – but the hokage himself.

Impatiently, Danzo stood up and tapped his cane against the floor. “Why isn’t Hiruzen here yet?” he questioned, sounding agitated. No one else seemed to share his concerns.

Inoichi and Inuzuka Hana exchanged mystified glances, and Hana even mouthed ‘what crawled into his arse and died?’ and giggled in an uncharacteristic manner, promoting Inoichi to hide his smile behind a cough.

Shikaku didn’t look nearly as relaxed and was looking around the room shiftily, if somewhat woozily, but for the most part, everyone else seemed to find Danzo’s jitteriness hilarious and ridiculous at the same time.

“Oh, for the love of god!” Homura exclaimed at last. “Will you sit down, Danzo?” The others nodded in agreement.

“Don’t you think this is odd though?” Danzo snapped, looking around as though he expected a flying elephant to drop from the sky any second now.

Even Ibiki rolled his eyes at the old man’s antics. ‘There’s paranoia and then there’s paranoia’, he mouthed to Hana, smirking. ‘The attack is two weeks away anyway…’ 

 

Except it wasn’t. Right on cue – an explosion. No flying elephants were involved, but a gigantic, dark purple barrier did suddenly surge up from the ground with a loud crack! , encapsulating all of them in one fell swoop. 

One beat.

Then another.

They were trapped.

The realization sunk in.

As one, the members of the war council shot up, weapons drawn, but by then it was far too late. The barrier had closed around them snuggly and could no longer be crossed. No matter what jutsu they hurled at it, the purple forcefield didn’t budge. And then they all realized… they were really, really fucked.

The only person who had been left outside was Danzo, who had been standing up and had thus been able to get away on time. Now  the elder had turned his back on them and was clearly on high alert, scrutinizing the rest of the room.

“Shit!” Shikaku cursed loudly. “How did I not see this coming!”

“You drank too much at the party,” Inoichi murmured, even as he stared at Danzo’s back in abject horror.

Shikaku wanted to deny it, but his retort died in his throat before he could voice it. The rest of those trapped were by then likewise distracted because the large conference area had been surrounded on all sides. Over fifty elite ninja of sound and sand had congregated all around their purple dome, and there, right before Danzo stood Orochimaru himself. Though he didn’t have the sharingan implanted yet, his grin was maniacal enough to make up for any letdowns. And also, right behind him, there were four still-falling corpses.

Danzo swore violently, clearly not eager to turn his back to the other fifty or so ninja but even less willing to leave Orochimaru out of his sight. The sannin chucked, shaking the fresh blood belonging to the three corpses from his hand.

“I do hope you won’t mind,” he said politely. “They were in the way, you see.”

“My guards…” Danzo muttered, glancing at the four corpses, then glaring at Orochimaru hatefully. “Damn you. I’ll kill you for this!”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Orochimaru said. “I daresay I’m prepared for you now.” He grinned, glancing at the crowd. “And we have an audience this time to make things more exciting, no?” 

And then his overly large tongue shot out from his mouth and captured Danzo at once. 

In the time it took him to break free, Orochimaru had already gone through his first set of handsingns and spat acid at him through his mouth. Danzo dodged, but clearly hadn’t been counting on one of the other ninja attacking him from behind at the same time, pushing him straight into the path of the acid. In a last ditch attempt, Danzo swung his cane to repel it even as his momentum pushed him forward and he twisted to the side, but his other side, the side of his face which was covered in bandages, was still hit full on, taking the brunt of the damage. Danzo groaned in pain and clutched at his face, scratching frantically at it – in vain. Acid was acid. 

By the time he could begin trying to regain his bearings less than a second afterward, it was too late. With one swing of his sword and an excited cry, Orochimaru lobbed Danzo’s arm off. 

 

The invasion had begun.

Notes:

SOOOO??? Didn't see that one comming, huh? The invasion starts early! No one is ready for it! DUN DUN DUN
I am so glad we've finally made it till this point. Shit hits the fan for real now... the first part of the fic is almost over. Also, Shikamaru appears again!!! Ah, I love this pineapple head. Anyway, I decided to write a little bonus scene up. To those of you, my fave readers, who don't just consume my work, but also comment, read my authors notes, etc... I dedicate this to you! If you wanna read it, just go to the first comment in the chapter.
Is it kinda dumb to make it so only about 20% of you will read it? Maybe so. But I'm so grateful to you guys that I wanted to show my appreciation somehow. You know who you are. :)

Chapter 23: The Start of the Invasion pt 1

Summary:

The invasion has begun and nobody is ready for it whatsoever, despite all their preparations.

Notes:

Hey guys! I liked how this past month's system went, which worked by splitting last chapter into three parts and updating one part each weekened (instead of updating one entire chapter every 4 weeks). That means, since my average chapter is 15-17k words, you'll get about 5k words per update. Tell me how you're liking this system and whether you prefer it to the previous one or not. Anyway, that said, let us begin.

 

Hiruzen Sarutobi was perched on the nose of his former teacher’s stone face. He was smoking his usual pipe as he contemplated the fading sunset, wondering what his sensei would’ve said if he could see him now.

Most likely, Hiruzen pondered forlornly, Tobirama would be disappointed. The nidaime Hokage hadn’t exactly been known for his filter, so Hiruzen would have probably gotten some pointed remarks from him… but his erstwhile teacher hadn’t been one to get stuck pondering the errors of the past either. After some pointed barbs, he’d have gotten straight to the crux of the matter and given Hiruzen some much needed advice.

It was true that growing up, becoming hokage, starting a family… those were all things that would force a person to realize that there really wasn’t anyone who could solve all problems, that one’s sensei wasn’t some omniscient god by any means… but Hiruzen still felt that way about Tobirama sometimes, even though he just knew the man would scoff if he could hear him. Still, his sensei would know what to do right then, Hiruzen was certain.

He wondered once more, as he often did, whether he truly had been the right choice for a successor. Many people back then had thought that Danzo was the better candidate, and a part of Hiruzen had believed it as well. Still did, sometimes. 

In terms of intelligence, Danzo had been closer to Tobirama than Hiruzen, as much as it pained him to admit it. He was better than his rival at everything else, and yet, in that one area… the one thing his sensei had truly respected…

Hiruzen sighed. Even so, at the very end, Tobirama had chosen him. Not Danzo. Him.

He recalled Danzo’s bitter words on the subject, the one topic that had only been broached once between them.

 

They’d been left alone after the funeral service; two slumped shadows in silent vigil before an empty casket, getting pelted by rain, the raging storm around them one that sensei would’ve relished in.

Hiruzen didn’t. He was freezing and overcome with grief.

He could tell that Danzo was crying next to him and likely wouldn’t want it to be seen. Sighing, Hiruzen had figured that he wouldn’t help anyone by staying there. He was hokage now and they were in the middle of a war; he needed to get back to work. Insomnia would not be conductive to that. As he turned to make his exit, Danzo spoke.

“Leaving already?”

Hiruzen didn’t turn back. “I must work,” he replied quietly. “You know that.”

“Of course,” came Danzo’s cold, cutting drawl. “Too important now that you’re hokage to give sensei the time of day, are you?”

Tensing violently, Hiruzen doubled back and furiously yanked him up by his shirt collar.

“Shut the hell up!”

“ Now you show emotion?” jeered the other. “The truth’s a hurtful thing, isn’t it?”

“You know perfectly well that sensei wouldn’t want us to spend the entire night moping in here!” Hiruzen defended himself. “He’d call it a useless waste of time that could mean the difference in the middle of a war!”

“Oh , so you suddenly listen to his teachings now?”

“I’ve always listened!” 

“No, you never did,” Danzo snapped. “You’ve only ever cared about the jutsu he knows, and the kata he knows, and the fact that he’s Hashirama Senju’s younger brother!”

“That’s not true!”

“Shut up! It is true! It is! You never bothered to try and learn his mind, to pick his brain for ideas. You never even understood his true worth! You will never fill the void left by his shoes and you know it!”

Hiruzen flinched violently. In that moment, he believed those words. 

 

Now, many years later, a part of him had screamed that it wasn’t true. He’d cared about sensei almost like a father… his loss had been… almost too much for his war-weary shoulders. But a part of him wondered whether Danzo had been at least somewhat right. He was certain that he’d never manage to be even halfway as good a hokage as Tobirama had been of as Hashirama before him.

“The truth is a hurtful thing, isn’t it?” he muttered brokenly to himself, hollowly parroting Danzo’s words  from back then.

“Sensei only picked you because you remind him of his precious ‘anija’ you know that, don’t you?” He could remember Danzo’s furious, cold accusation. It had cut him to the core. “He didn’t choose you because of any merit of your own! The one tactical mistake he makes in his entire career and it’s the greatest one he could’ve – you – you don’t deserve the position! You will lose us the war, you don’t know jackshit about strategy–”

 

Hiruzen never heard the rest of what he had to say because at that point he had fled the graveyard without looking back. He hadn’t slept a wink that night nor in the many nights to come. The worst part of it was, in the following years and decades, his worst nightmares hadn’t been about the day his teacher had died, as he was sure Danzo’s were, but rather about the words spoken on the day of his funeral.

 

‘What would you say now, if you could see me?’ Hiruzen wondered once again, as he so often did. ‘Would you be proud, sensei?’

The answer, he feared, would not make him happy.

Hiruzen knew that he wasn’t as cunning as Danzo, that he didn’t have his tactical foresight. He knew that it wasn’t the same to be a good warrior than to be a good leader. To this day he still wondered why his sensei, the most logical man he’d ever known, had picked him instead. Had it truly been because Hiruzen’s personality had reminded him of his brother?

With all his heart he hoped that that wasn’t the case, that there was some other explanation… but he didn’t know. Other times, he wondered whether he had only been picked instead of Danzo because the latter was too dark, had too little scruples, could justify anything to himself as long as he thought it was for the greater good. Sometimes, Hiruzen wondered whether the nidaime had simply preferred not to choose someone brilliant but possibly too ruthless and had instead settled for mediocrity.

Mediocrity. How he hated that word. 

His late wife had told him often enough back when she was still alive that he wasn’t mediocre, that he was a good man, a loving husband, an accomplished shinobi. He had mastered all five elements. He had defeated unspeakably powerful foes. He could beat Danzo in any competition, provided there wasn’t much planning involved. He was good. He was exceptionally good. He had done everything he could think of to never be remembered as that, as the worst hokage, as the incompetent leader, as the one in whose tenure it all went to shit. As mediocrity.

But it didn’t matter. None of it changed anything.

He had made many mistakes and every one of them was one more wrinkle on his wizened face. Hell, his students, for all that they were lauded as the legendary sannin, were one of his greatest failures. 

None were happy; one was a consummate drinker and gambler, drowning her grief in alcohol and casinos, the other not much better, making a living off of spying on nude women – and the third, the student he’d had the most faith in, his dear Oro-kun… would in two weeks’ time attempt to massacre his village. And by waiting so long without doing anything about it, Hiruzen could tell that he had made yet another mistake. Possibly the last one of his career. The worst one.

But he was determined to fix it. He was determined to pay with his own blood if that’s what it took.

Just as he was thinking this, an explosion sounded far off, then two more. Screams followed quickly afterward. With a sinking feeling of doom in his gut, Hiruzen processed what this meant. His heart bled at the sight. The invasion had started two weeks before the third exam. They were under attack now. For the first time in its history, Konoha, not the country but the village itself, was under direct assault by not one, but two enemy nations.

His mind blank with shock, Hiruzen stood up and slowly pocketed his pipe. Carefully, he shed his hokage robes and left them there, on top of the nidaime’s nose, followed closely by his hat. 

“Goodbye, sensei,” he said solemnly. The words were lost to the wind.

If only I could see you again… just one more time…

However, now was not the time for sentiment. He needed to act and fast. Hiruzen was itching to go check on his people, but as hokage it was his responsibility to first go back to the tower in order to retrieve some of the highly confidential papers kept within the secret compartment in his office (Orochimaru, he feared, knew about it) and place them in a safe location. Once that was done, however, he had every intention to join the fighting. Luckily, Hiruzen had always excelled at that and he wasn't planning on stopping until he died or the invasion was over, whichever came first.

Without a backward glance, the sandaime hokage stood tall upon and straight-backed upon the monument of his former teacher. He gave a curt nod to the ANBU detail tailing him and together they leapt into the burning streets of Konoha. It was time.

 

---

 

 

The start of the invasion caught Kakashi in the shower. Without any warning, there was suddenly a deafening crash and the ground below him began to quake so much that he was forced to send chakra to his feet in order to avoid slipping. Harried, he’d turned off the spray and scrambled out of the shower stall. One moment later, his bathroom wall was gone. And the ceiling.

For about half a second, Kakashi simply stared in abject horror at the gaping hole that was now where he’d been standing all but two seconds ago… and at the street down below, which was now visible.

A gigantic snake summon was right outside, slithering over the pavement and swinging its tail like an eager home-demolishing puppy, smashing buildings left and right in the process. Kakashi barely paused to gauge where it was most likely to hit next – thankfully nowhere near his flat again – and then quickly scrambled out of the bathroom.

Toeing into his sandals, he skidded toward his bedroom and threw on his most protective ANBU uniform at breakneck speed with the green jonin vest on top – it might look ridiculous but extra pockets were always a bonus. All the while, Kakashi cursed his brain for deciding that yesterday was a good time for drinks with Tenzo to subsequently get hammered. He was still a little hungover from that and if there was anything worse than nursing a hangover, it was nursing a hangover whilst getting invaded.

Thankfully, Kakashi had slept in that day and dawled about reading on a tree, meaning he was at least somewhat rested. Also thankfully, he had a strong co-dependency relationship with his weapons, so they were all waiting for him as he burst into the living room, all neatly laid out on the floor outside. Still, the situation was far from ideal. He was not at his best. As quickly as he could, he went about donning the weapons, all the while keeping his senses on high alert for another attack. When he got to his old ANBU katana he hesitated, then elected not to seal it and strapped it to his back instead. Just in case.

Once all this was accomplished, he bolted back into the living room, hastily sealing his few valuable possessions into one last scroll, which he stashed below his mesh shirt. After brief deliberation, he paused before his sealing tag cabinet. A beat, two… he hesitated. But then, grimly, he grabbed the scrolls Jiraiya had created and stuffed the special tags into his vest.

He had a mission. There was no escaping it.

 

 

---

The start of the invasion caught Naruto and Sasuke in the middle of the team seven training ground and, more accurately, its small lake. At first, they’d only heard a distant explosion and shrugged it off, but a few minutes later, the sounds of battle could no longer be confused with anything but what they truly were as they drew closer and closer. Sasuke, who’d been preoccupied with trying to learn how to walk on water based on Naruto’s ‘comprehensive’ explanations involving Pervy Sage’s teachings, scrambled toward the shore.

“What’s going on?” he questioned frantically, whilst Naruto peered around the area like a broken windmill.

“Dunno teme, but I don’t think it’s like a prank or anything.”

Sasuke frowned deeply. “Can you get any more detailed?” he snapped with annoyance.

“Oi! It’s not like I’m some sort of truth wizard here–”

“We need to find Kakashi,” Sasuke interrupted. “He’ll know what to do.”

“But how?” hollered Naruto. “I told ya, Sakura-chan said that he was off on some kinda assignment or somethin–”

Suddenly, Naruto stopped dead in his tracks, to the point where Sasuke paused also. “What?”

“Sasuke,” said Naruto stiffly. “Sakura-chan – she’s still at the hospital!”

Sasuke frowned. “Shouldn’t she have been discharged by n–”

“We gotta save her!” Naruto yelled urgently, steamrolling over Sasuke’s protests. Without further ado, the blonde proceeded to rocket off toward the hospital like an orange cannon ball.

“Oi!” Sasuke snapped, giving chase. “Wait for me, you moron!”

They made it to their destination a few minutes later, and what they found was not good.

“Sakura-chan’s not here?” Naruto cried, looking around her (former) hospital room. “Crap! She must’ve been kidnapped!”

“Are you sure she didn’t get discharged, Naruto?” Sasuke asked irritably.

“Huh?” muttered the blonde. “I mean… wait, maybe sensei said something like that…”

Sasuke huffed. “And you’re recalling this now ?”

“I… I… Gimme a break, Sasuke!” Their argument got promptly cut off by another loud explosion, this one awfully close.

“What was that?!” Naruto cried, looking around frantically.

Sasuke’s head was swiveling in all directions also. “Oi, dobe,” he said. “I think… someone’s up there.”

“What’d you mean?” Naruto questioned with wide eyes.

“In the upper floor. I can sense them.”

“How many are there? Are they like, uh, the bad guys?”

“I think so.” Sasuke muttered. “Their chakra seems malicious. There’s…” he frowned. “There’s at least ten jonin’s worth of chakra there, but I can’t really make out how many there are, it’s like… it’s very homogeneous.”

“Ten jonin,” Naruto repeated with horror. “As in, ten of Kakashi-sensei?”

“Shh,” hissed Sasuke.

“What now!?” the blonde questioned.

“They’re coming this way.” Sasuke turned toward him. “We can’t face them as we are. We need to get out of here.”

“But teme – what about the people staying at the hospital?”

“Oi, I’m telling you right now, find us the exit – come on! We – we can’t stay in here.”

Naruto pouted petulantly. “You’re not the boss of me, Sasuke! Why should I–”

“They’re in this floor now,” Sasuke snapped urgently, his expression tense. “Do what I’m telling you, Naruto!”

“But–”

“There’s no time. We can’t beat them, you idiot. We need to leave. Now.”

Finally, Naruto acquiesced and dragged Sasuke out of the room and into the corridor, away from the the ten jonins’ chakra presences. And so, they hastened through the hospital halls and down staircases, with Naruto paving the way whilst Sasuke strained to sense what the assailants were doing…

 

Finally, Naruto led them into one of the laundry rooms and manhandled Sasuke so that they’d both hide within an old storage closet.

“Why are we hiding? I thought I told you to get us out of here!” Sasuke hissed.

“Dumbass, we can’t do that!” Naruto retorted. “Going to the street isn’t any safer for you than stayin’ in here, you know? ‘Cuz there’s people throwing paper bombs everywhere and other weapons, and you’d have no way to see that they’re coming. So staying in a building’s safer since there weapons can’t be chugged through walls.”

Sasuke paused, staring at Naruto with a frown.

“Are you sure this is a good hiding spot?” he finally acquiesced.

Naruto grinned. “Trust me, teme, I may not be a math wiz like you but I know how to hide like the best of ‘em.”

“If you say so,” muttered Sasuke uneasily.

“Believe it, I’m the Prank King, I know what I’m talking about!”

“Whatever.” They were silent for a while, then Sasuke spoke again: “Do we have a good exit route in case we’re spotted?”

“Yah, through the window over there,” Naruto said. “Why? I thought I told you that that’s a bad id–”

“Shut up,” Sasuke interrupted, putting his hand over Naruto’s mouth in order to muffle his protests. “They’re coming closer.”

They were silent for yet another long, tense few minutes.

Then… yaw taut, Sasuke’s grip over Naruto’s mouth intensified. Naruto suddenly understood why, as the sound of footsteps became apparent. But… something was off.

“Teme, are you sure this is them?” he whispered. “There’s only one pair of footsteps.”

“Be quiet, idiot!” Sasuke hissed.

“But what if it’s someone else–”

“It’s them. Now shut up!”

 

But if a single person had the chakra of ten jonin, Naruto wanted to tell him, then they were big trouble! However, there was no time to retort anything, for the footsteps were much too close now.

Through the gap in the closet door, Naruto had a good vantage point to peer outside of the laundry room and the corridor – and there he suddenly saw the beginnings of a shadow on the tiled floor. The shadow grew ever closer and ever larger, and then… there was a… what the hell was he?

Naruto stared wide-eyed at the red-head outside. Wasn’t that one of the participants of the chunnin exams? One of the sand guys who’d bullied Konohamaru? Gaara of the dunes or something? And yet something was very wrong with him. His arm wasn’t normal! Instead, it was shaped into some sort of sand claw thing and he was dragging it down the corridor… he looked like a veritable monster.

And then, something even worse happened. Gaara turned slowly, ever so slowly, until he was facing them. Naruto could’ve sworn that they locked eyes through the gap in the door.

He knows we’re here! he realized with horror. And then he realized something else. Sasuke-teme won’t be able to defend against him! Crap, what now?

He couldn’t just sit back and do nothing!

Then, Naruto recalled Kakashi-sensei’s words and came to a resolution.

I’m gonna protect my teammates, that’s my ninja way! Even if, he added mentally, the teme will be mad as hell at me for this.

“Shadow clone jutsu!” he yelled out-loud. Then he flashily kicked the closet door open and jumped the Gaara guy. “Oi, you! What’cha lookin’ at!”

The Naruto clone with the largest chakra capacity of all came into being next to Sasuke.

He knew what he had to do. Hopefully, Gaara wouldn’t realize that he hadn’t been alone in that closet… his plan depended on it. And so, when Sasuke tried to go after the other dozen Narutos that had left to distract Gaara, this Naruto stepped in front of the exit and blocked his way.

“I’m not lettin’ you leave this room, teme.”

Sasuke glared at him. “Dobe, step aside.”

Naruto scowled. “I mean it, Sasuke. I’m not letting you.”

“You’re asking for a beating, Naruto,” Sasuke growled.

“Last I checked, you were the smart one,” Naruto retorted. “You know you can’t win against that guy, so shut up and let me handle this.”

Sasuke glared at him so hard Naruto thought that if he’d still had eyes, they’d probably have hypnotized him to death by now.

“Teme, you know I’m right,” he repeated again.

“That doesn’t mean you should handle the threat either!” Sasuke snapped.

“This is a freaking hospital!” Naruto yelled back. “This guy’s gonna do something bad in here, I can just tell! And I’m not letting him. Someone has to stop him and it looks like we’re the only ninja around, so that’s what I’ll do.”

“Wait…” murmured Sasuke, “of course.”

“Eh? What are you on about, Sasuke? What’s–”

“We’re in a hospital, moron,” Sasuke snapped. “A hospital in a ninja village. Of course there are other ninja here. We need to find them if they’re still asleep and get them to help us.”

Naruto gaped at him. “Hey, that’s actually a good idea!”

Sasuke scoffed. “I’m blind, not stupid. Unlike you. Now let’s go.”

“Oi!”

 

---

 

 

Sakura and Hinata were by that time sprinting through the Nara forest, avoiding the open combat that was taking place past the treeline as they rushed toward the Hyuga compound.

“Keep going, I’ll catch up,” Sakura called out as she slowed to a stop. She needed to concentrate fully on what she was doing in order to summon the crows. Hinata looked hesitant but did as she asked, and so, now alone, Sakura took a deep breath and steeled herself. Careful not to make any mistakes, she flipped through the handsigns of the summoning jutsu, with the additional ones to activate the insight technique, which would connect all summoned crows in a sort of hive mind.

She channeled nearly half of her chakra into the technique in fear that any less might not be enough, but to her wonderment, she somehow managed to summon an insane amount of crows, much more than she ever had before. How many were there? Thirty? Forty?

Elated, Sakura realized that she could feel all their little minds buzzing in a corner of her own, and knew that she could command them through it. Thank god, she hadn’t made any mistakes.

Spread out, she instructed. If you see anything of note, tell me. Look for the clan heads and jonin sensei. Look in all the important places.

As one, the crows took off into the sky, with Shi-chan pausing to nip at her earlobe and then flying off into the night at their front. As soon as they were gone, Sakura nodded to herself and then took off into the trees in order to catch up with Hinata, who was almost at the edge of the forest by then. They had circled around the village until they’d made it to the lake Sakura knew so well from her own training. Surprisingly, through Hinata’s byakugan, which was able to pinpoint the closest set of buildings, they discovered that the lake was closest to the Uchiha compound of all places!

Sakura cursed her bad luck. Its empty streets were foreboding and she’d never been inside before – the ghastly place had been abandoned years ago. But then she realized that that was actually a good thing – empty meant danger-free. After checking the aerial view with her insight, Sakura determined that they could cut a clean path across the compound to get to their destination most quickly.

“Come on, this way!” she cried, overtaking Hinata and leaping over the compound’s wall with one powerful chakra jump. Hinata made a scared little noise in the back of her throat but followed at a more sedate pace by running up the wall.

For one moment, Sakura stopped dead on her tracks from her spot on top of the wall. The Uchiha compound was huge . She both marveled at and cursed its sheer size as they shot from rooftop to rooftop. There were no lights on in any of its houses, and normally that would have been scary, but to Sakura right then it was like a birthday present that had come early. No lights would mean that they wouldn’t be spotted easily if anyone was here.

Vaguely, she could recall one of Iruka-sensei’s lectures back at the Academy… Ninja are creatures of shadows , he’d said. Ideally, no one will see you coming until it’s too late.

 

This thought boosted her confidence and they made it through the Uchiha compound without any setbacks. After jumping up it’s outer wall, they made it to the lived-in part of Konoha. The Hyuga compound was not far off now and Hinata had begun scrutinizing the area where it must be with her byakugan. Sakura nervously used the crows to check whether any threats were approaching – there were none. Even so, the silence was killing her.

“Is your father there?” she asked after a moment, her heart pounding in her throat.

Hinata didn’t answer, her eyes moving more frantically with every passing second.

“Hinata?”

“N-no, Sakura, he’s not – he’s gone! All the clan heads are gone – what d-do we do?”

Sakura bit her lip, trying not to let the other girl’s terror consume her as well. By then they’d made it to the compound, but it was clear that, contrary to what she’d hoped, things weren’t going well there either. Crap. Sakura had been banking on the fact that at least the Hyuga would have things under control… but no such luck. The place had broken into chaos; the normally collected and proud Hyuga were running around, children screaming, babies wailing… and no one seemed to agree on what to do in the absence of the clan head. Adults were yelling at each other, some shouting that they had to defend the compound, whilst others wanted to fight for the village, but even those were debating heatedly among themselves on where they should join the fray, and yet another faction wanted to go look for the missing Hizashi in case something had happened to him.

 

But that wasn’t even the worst of it: Sakura could tell from her insight technique that the crows hadn’t spotted any of the clan heads anywhere in the village either, nor any of the sensei. Shit. The crows flying over the area were sending her horrible images: the entirety of Konoha was in shambles, buildings crumbling by the minute, paper bombs going off everywhere, streets on fire, screams filling the air – it was utter pandemonium.

Some of the crows which Sakura had sent to ‘important buildings’ had flown to the hospital and from the looks of it, the situation there was even more of a disaster. No one was around to guard the patients, most medics had apparently already gone home for the day, and more and more injured were trickling in by the minute. They needed help! They needed someone who could protect them.

“Hinata,” Sakura said, coming to a snap decision. “Hinata, these people need someone to tell them what to do. You are the clan heiress.”

Hinata stared at Sakura aghast. “S-s-sakura, I can’t p-possibly–”

“Yes, you can!” snapped Sakura angrily. “You have to! Someone needs to put a stop to the chaos and that’s you!”

“B-but Sakura… I don’t know what to do either…”

Sakura straightened. “Listen. The hospital has no one protecting it. That needs to be fixed.”

“Sak–”

“No, listen to me!” she barked. “The hyuga eyes can literally see through walls and long distances. They can spot any injured person from miles away, but also anyone trying to take over a building. They’re perfect for guarding the hospital! Without it, we’ll be doomed Hinata! You have to send your people there to help protect it!”

Hinata stared at her in shock. “But – but Sakura! E-even if I w-wanted to, no one would listen to me…”

“ Yes they will , because you are the clan heiress and they are panicking, so they’ll listen to you.”

Hinata stared at her as if she’d gone insane. Thinking quickly, Sakura came up with an idea.

“Look, I can do a genjutsu that will make you look tall and confident and people won’t hear if your stutter. I’ll just cast it on you and then you can go and tell your clansmen what to do, alright?”

“W-will it work?”

“Of course it will!” Sakura snapped. “Watch.” She quickly flipped through the handsigns of Tsunade’s genjutsu (praying it would work) and layered it carefully over Hinata. She doubted it’d last past the one hour mark, but Hinata didn’t need to know that.

“There, done.”

Hinata stared at her own hands hesitantly. “Sa-sakura. I mean, thank you… but is this really a g-good idea? What if someone g-gets mad at us for interfering?”

Sakura waved her off, trying to play it confident. “Who in their right mind,” she reasoned, “would get mad at us for taking control of the situation and keeping the hospital from being destroyed? Don’t you realize how many lives are on the line?”

Hinata’s hands were trembling and she didn’t reply, but it was clear that her words had made an impact. Softening, Sakura grasped them and gave a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll come with you. You can do this, Hinata.”

Hinata nodded hesitantly, and with this they advanced into the crumbling Hyuga compound.

“U-um. P-please listen to me!” Hinata cried timidly. Of course, none of the arguing adults even heard her. Sakura scowled. Angrily, she flared her chakra as strongly and obnoxiously as she could. The Hyuga immediately wiped around as one in their direction, looking around in puzzlement for the source.

“Try again,” Sakura whispered in Hinata’s ear. “And between yelling and whispering, best yell.”

She knew that ‘yell’ wouldn’t mean the same thing to Hinata than to most people anyway.

“Please li- listen to me!” Hinata said again, this time a little more loudly.

All of the gathered Hyuga stared at her.

“Hinata-sama!” at least five of them exclaimed simultaneously, and then they began to talk among themselves, this time arguing about what to do with Hinata as if she weren’t there.

Annoyed, Sakura flared her chakra again, now even more obnoxiously. “Tell them that you have orders for them.” she said between her teeth.

Hinata nodded shakily. “Listen!”

The adults were finally looking at her again. “I– I have something to tell…” Sakura elbowed her “I have orders for you.”

Tsunade’s genjutsu must have been working at least partially because they didn’t outright start laughing. “Go on,” Sakura whispered encouragingly. “See? They’re listening to you.”

Hinata flushed to the roots of her hair, something that no one else would hopefully see due to the genjutsu. “My father i-isn’t here. That means that we need to – to – to… to do stuff without him. So – so we have to go to the hospital to protect it. We, we are t-t-the only ones who can do it. Our b-byakugan will allow us to see a-anyone who is injured and sp-spot attackers from afar. So…”

“You want us all to defend the hospital, Hinata-sama?” one man asked.

“But what about the compound? It’ll get burned down if we leave!” another cried indignantly.

Once more, pandemonium broke out, but this time Sakura didn’t have to flare her chakra anymore.

“People’s lives are on the line!” Hinata exclaimed loudly, just as indignant, and this time, people did shut up and turned to stare at her. Sakura could only imagine that her genjutsu was amplifying her wrath. It was glorious.

“Would you forgive yourselves,” Hinata said vehemently, “if my – my father, f-for example, sought aid at the hospital and – and died because no one was there to defend it?”

That got them thinking. Sakura could practically see the gears turning as the crowd’s faces began to morph.

“I… I am the clan heiress,” Hinata continued. “And I’m… I’m t-telling you – we’ll protect the sick and injured there. T-the Hyuga will fight!”

A cheer went through the crowd at these words. Sakura stared at Hinata with wide eyes. Hinata’s eyes were just as wide.

“Did I just do that?” she mumbled dazedly. People were still cheering.

Sakura grinned. “Sure looks like it.” They shared a smile. “Anyway,” Sakura said, “you should probably tell your people to go fetch their weapons… and maybe also say that anyone not able to fight should evacuate instead.”

Hinata repeated these words and even assigned one of her uncles the task of making sure the evacuation was done properly. Things were looking up. Sakura could scarcely believe that they’d managed all that. But disaster struck five minutes later, when the uncle returned with a worried look on his face.

“Hinata-sama! Your sister – I can’t find her!”

Hinata went pale. “Hanabi!” Tears started welling up in her eyes. “O-of course. She was going to stay at the Academy f-for the ca-camping exercise t-today!”

Sakura frowned. Hanabi was her friend also… she remembered guiltily that the last time they had coincided, they’d had a huge argument… it had left a really bitter taste in her mouth back then and an even worse one now.

“I’ll go get her,” she told Hinata decisively.

“B-but Sakura–”

“Don’t worry, Hinata. The Academy is really close to the hokage mountain, and that’s where the civilians get evacuated anyway. My parents will be there. I’ll just make sure Hanabi’s safe and then I can evacuate right along with them… you should probably go evacuate with the other children in your clan too.”

Hinata looked torn. “Th-thank you so much, Sakura-chan. But I don’t think I’ll evac – evacuate though. I, I mean… I told ev-everyone to be brave… I can’t just leave… ”

Sakura bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to get the other girl into danger. Drat.

“Well, you should make sure to have some guards with you at all times if you go with your clan. And don’t fight anyone. We’re still genin; it’s too dangerous.”

Hinata nodded shakily.

“Be c-careful, Sakura!”

Sakura tried to nod at her like she knew what she was doing. Shakily, she gave Hianata a wobbly thumbs up, then turned tail and sprinted toward the Academy, hoping that the Hyuga heiress wouldn’t see the fear in her eyes. Her only consolation was that with the crows keeping watch above her, she’d hopefully not run into any nasty surprises…

 

Notes:

Thoughts? Remember that this is only the first third of this chapter, next week you'll get the second part. Anyway, hope you liked it.
I can see you scowling at Hiruzen for not being dead yet or getting to act somewhat heroic. But so sorry to disappoint, he's going to get his cool moment. After all, Danzo isn't the only character I'm giving more depth to. Hiruzen, in my mind, is a bad leader (though the trials he had to navigate through would have been hard to overcome for most politicians, I think) but that doesn't take away from him being a strong warrior. Basically, I made his and Danzo's strengths be the exact opposite. In an ideal world, they would balance each other out, but instead they just cancel each other out like a bad maths equation (yes, I'm studying too much computational algebra lately and it shows). Anyway, in my mind Hiruzen gets the to be strong and brave but bad at politics and too straightforward, with good intentions bad bad execution -- whereas Danzo gets to be clever and cunning, but cowardly and weak(er), with bad intentions with good execution. *Shrugs* You'll see how these two develop during this arc, it's going to be interesting, that's for sure.

Naruto and Sasuke are starting to display actual teamwork and a moderate amount of intelligence in the face of large threats. Maybe not as epic but definitely safer, woooo!!!

As for the Hinata scene... see??? Those BAMF women & character development tags were not for show!! I never liked how Kishi introduced Hinata as a character with so much potential and then the whole Hyuga injustice conflict which was obviously begging to be fixed, and then nothing happened??? Except for Hinata pinning after naruto and growing boobs??? Like hello??? She was supposed to go on a crusade to change the ways of the hyuga! Esp I feel like her character liking Naruto at the beginning was a plus point bc she was the only one who could look beneath the stigma & everything else and see his merits, but it got old quickly. She deserved more character development. How could her 12 yr old self be more interesting than the adult housewife self?? So yeah, sorry for the rant. TL;DR Hinata's gonna get some steep mountains of trials thrown her way along with a good dose of character developmet. Ditto for Ino and (obviously) Sakura.

Also, I don't know about you, but I personally loved making Kakashi be hungover & in the shower when it all began. I think it's the type of bad luck that happens in real life too (or at least it's the sort of thing that would happen to me), so of course I had to make poor Kakashi get a significant handicap for all this. That information Tenzo gave him last chapter had a steep prize!
So basically, Kakashi ended up flashing Orochimaru's summons. (Yes. I know you're jealous, don't hide it.)

Chapter 24: The Start of the Invasion pt 2

Notes:

Part 2 is here!!!

Quick note – I already told this to ondine_de_la_mer but I figure more of you probably had the same thought, so… for those thinking that Kakashi deciding to kill Rio is out of character, well. It would be if Kakashi was Naruto or if Rio were his teammate. Neither of these two options is true.
Keep in mind that Kakashi’s orders from Hiruzen literally were: “when the invasion starts, kill Rio.” Not “go on a mission to kill Rio” and then the invasion starts, so he could choose to postpone it, prioritising the invasion. Rio is not his teammate, in fact as far as he knows she is his enemy, if a likeable one. How many infiltrations, how many ANBU assassinations has Kakashi completed where he’s killed someone he likes? I doubt they’d be in the single digits.
For all that I as an author have taken care to slowly build up Kakashi’s reasoning for liking anyone from root – at his core Kakashi still doesn’t know her. She is NOT his comrade. Even if Chihiro begged him to help her, even if the good-natured parts in him are totally against it – ninja are trained killers. If given such a high-ranking order to kill her, why should he literally compromise his career, his status, his everything for a likeable stranger?
There is no way he would. Especially not when being forced to make the choice outside of the rush of combat, in cold logic.

And before you say Hiruzen is stupid for wanting to kill an asset like Rio, keep in mind that Hiruzen may well have his own reasoning behind all of this as well. So, without further ado…

“My eternal rival!” Gai shouted, having spotted Kakashi. “There you are!”

Up on a rooftop, Kakashi turned around and glanced back at him furtively. Gai joined him on the rooftop with a large leap, but his grin vanished once he saw Kakashi’s face from up close. He couldn’t place what, but – something was wrong. Well, besides for the fact that they were being invaded. There was something… off about his eternal rival, though Gai didn’t know what it was.

“Something the matter?” Kakashi asked him after a beat. “Am I needed somewhere?” He seemed almost hopeful that that was the case – uncharacteristically so.

“Of course, my eternal rival!” Gai was quick to reassure. “I need you by my side so that we may compete in a trial of youth to see who can take down the greater number of threats!”

“Ah…” muttered Kakashi. “Right. That. Maybe another time. I have… an assignment.”

Gai stared at his eternal rival with concern. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Kakashi was afraid of whatever this assignment entailed. Of course, he did know better: his rival wasn’t afraid of typical things such as dying gruesomely or being defeated in challenges of youth. Whatever this assignment was, it must be bad if his rival was dreading it.

“Then,” he decided boisterously, “I shall accompany you in your mission, my rival! It will be an excursion of true vigor!”

On his part, Kakashi was just staring at him with an unreadable expression. Gai was waiting to be inevitably rebuffed – if the assignment was for ANBU, as he suspected, then Kakashi wouldn’t want him there – but surprisingly, after a prolonged pause, Kakashi acquiesced.

“Ma, then let’s go.”

“YOSH!” Gai exclaimed excitedly. His rival had let him in on something big, he could tell! “So, Kakashi, what is this trial of yours that awaits us?”

Kakashi scratched his head. “Well… we need to – ah – kill someone.”

Gai blinked. “Right now? But we’re getting invaded!”

 

“My orders were to kill this person once the invasion starts, not ‘go on a mission to kill this person’ and then the invasion started,” Kakashi said. “It was a special command issued by the hokage.”

How odd… Gai thought. It wasn’t just the circumstances surrounding the mission, but also that Kakashi, retired from ANBU and with honors, would have any compunctions to terminate an enemy. It could only mean… for some reason, Kakashi didn’t want to kill this person specifically?

“And who is the target of our assignment?” Gai asked carefully.

“Ah, you’ll see when we find her, I suppose,” Kakashi replied.

Her?

Gai watched with growing concern as Kakashi carefully lowered his mask so that his nose was exposed and then took a deep breath. He knew that his rival only ever resorted to this when he was about to track old smells throughout large areas… but that would mean that Kakashi was already quite familiar with what she smelled like, which was… concerning.

That must mean that this mission… this mission was of the worst kind. For what purpose had Kakashi allowed him to tag along? Did he want him to boycott it?

With all these questions swirling through his head, Gai followed his best friend through the rooftops of Konoha. Sometimes he really wished that Kakashi wasn’t so closed off.

Eventually, they made it to one of the main districts, where the fighting was at its worst. With growing concern, Gai watched as Kakashi’s gaze honed in on one of the groups of shinobi below them. They all appeared to be fighting for Konoha though… and were ANBU.

“Your target is one of our ANBU?” Gai asked, aghast.

“Hm, I suppose you wouldn’t know,” Kakashi commented.

“Know what?”

“Those aren’t ANBU – or not quite.”

Gai frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“They’re Root,” Kakashi explained. “A branch of ANBU that is controlled by Danzo Shimura. Notoriously shady.”

Gai gulped. “But aren’t they still on our side?”

Kakashi didn’t reply.

“My eternal rival, I cannot in good conscience cond–”

“The hokage has explicitly ordered me to do this with highest priority,” Kakashi interrupted him darkly. His voice sounded dead. “If I disobey, the consequences will be dire.” 

Ninja who disobeyed direct orders from their commanding officers were labeled as threats, Gai knew –  and while it might be true that the more powerful one was, the more wriggling room that entailed, one did not just disobey a special order from the hokage. The best possible outcome for that was getting labeled a missing nin and having to flee the village, to never see anyone one cared for again, unless on opposing sides of the battlefield. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would be like for his eternal rival. Needless to say, he had no desire to find out. If push came to shove, Gai resolved that he’d carry out the mission himself. He would not lose Kakashi.

Most in Konoha tended to forget that he had fought in a war and survived, they would forget how many of his teammates had died when he had lived. Years ago he had tried to join ANBU in order to be there for Kakashi, but the hokage had rebuffed him. He was not cut out for such work, the man had said. And Gai had accepted these words with chagrin, even though he knew them to be false. He was certain he’d have found a way to adapt to the shadow warriors. He was certain that he would have hated every second of it, yes – the killing of innocents, the killing based upon orders alone and no explanation – but in the end, Gai was like a scale. If he weighed those unknown innocents against Kakashi’s mental well being, he knew which one would come out on top.

And so he closed his mouth, liking the situation less and less though prepared to interfere if it came to it. They followed behind the group of Root agents discreetly, careful not to be seen. Gai knew that his stealth skills, while jonin level, weren’t stellar. They’d have likely been spotted if it weren’t for the chaos of the invasion.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked after they’d followed the Root agents for a while.

“An opening,” Kakashi replied, prompting Gai to stare at him. An opening? He was starting to get the feeling that Kakashi would be all the happier if ‘an opening’ never presented itself in the first place. In light of this, he elected not to point out that he could probably cause a distraction to give him the opening he needed.

It might not even be necessary, Gai reflected as he watched the battle unfolding below them, for the Root team’s odds were bad. They were outnumbered three to one. Yes, it was clear that their skill level was far superior to that of the sound and sand shinobi, but still… there were only five of them. Gai felt terrible, watching as his fellow leaf nin fought to stay alive, unable to jump in and help them.

Instead, he and Kakashi were there to do the opposite, lying in wait to kill one of them. A woman. Gai didn’t like the idea of killing anyone, but he liked the prospect of murdering a woman even less. There was just something about it, about killing someone who could bring new lives to the world, that rubbed him really wrong.

Now, as he watched the battle unfold down below, he uneasily tried to guess which one of the Root agents was Kakashi’s target and found himself at a loss. They were all wearing masks and unisex armor so it was impossible to tell which ones were female. He was alarmed when he noticed how short two of the agents were – why, they were no taller than Lee, his precious student! And yet, they fought like seasoned war veterans.

One, he noted with curiosity, had an odd ability to draw animal-like shapes and give them life. Another was extremely skilled at the manipulation of – grass blades? – as weapons. Two of the older ones appeared to be talented at kenjutsu and jin release respectively: these were all specialists. They fought implacably and ferociously. No matter how you looked at it, the Root agents seemed like a definite asset to the village, even if Gai didn’t like to think in those terms. So why did the Hokage want one of them gone?

Predictably, both of the shorter Root agents were eventually injured, one gravely so.

A few moments later, another Root gave a furious cry and summoned a gigantic water wave which knocked their last remaining opponents against a far off building, effectively ending the fight. The agent lost no time turning back to the rest of the team, gesturing toward the older agents.

“You two, take Hinata and Sai back to Sana. They need emergency healing.”

And yet, the agents did not move. Gai was really hoping that they wouldn’t leave their captain alone.

“Didn’t you hear me?” snapped the captain.

“Heichou, our injuries are relatively mild,” one of the younger ones intervened. 

“We will remain here,” agreed the other placidly.

The captain strode toward them swiftly, something about it screaming ‘I am furious right now’. “They are not mild. You know as well as I do that you don’t have your poison tolerance fully developed yet.”

“It is unlikely that we will be affected,” said the child in a cold, factual voice. “There are only a few poisons we have as of yet not developed immunity to–”

The captain’s patience seemed to run out. “Suna are poisons specialists!”

“Heichou–” 

“What part of ‘Suna excels at making potentially crippling, mortal toxins’ did you not understand? I’m telling you to go to Sana, right now, Riku, Sai. Yann and Kin will escort you . ”

“Captain, we can go on our own,” chimed in the other child.

“The poison will spread much faster if you move and we don’t know if it’s a paralyzing agent. You may well be attacked on your way there, meaning one escort  isn’t enough. I will not be losing anyone tonight if I can help it. Now move , all of you. That’s an order. ”

The older agents turned slowly. “We’ll be back shortly.”

The captain gave a curt nod.  “I’ll meet you at the northern corner in ten.”

Chorusing their assent, the two older agents swiftly whisked the younger ones away, leaving their captain alone. No. Gai tensed. He knew what this was; he could feel it in his bones: the opening had presented itself. It was like the forces of the universe were conspiring to get Kakashi to off this Root agent. Almost like in a dream, he watched as his eternal rival slowly retrieved a number of sealing tags from his pouch.

---

Meanwhile, in another part of the village, a certain council member had just lost an arm and half of his face.

“Damn you!” Danzo howled in pain as his remaining hand closed over the stump that was now his right arm. It was oozing blood like a hose, splattering the green tiles of the hokage tower floor in a deep burgundy red.

Orochimaru watched Danzo dispassionately as the councilman writhed in pain.

“I’d say I care whether you hate me,” the Sannin commented, “but I don’t. Why should I care about the opinions of a dead man?”

“Not – dead – yet,” Danzo ground out.

“Good as,” Orochimaru murmured easily. “You know, I truly was expecting a lot more difficulties from you all…” He pouted. “This was supposed to be a challenge, you know. The entire war council, reunited – I expected you to at least put up a fight. I must confess, I find myself a little… disappointed.”

He let the taunt hang in the air, clearly savoring every moment of it, whilst the congregated members of the war council shouted profanities at him from within their fuinjutsu cage. These expletives weren’t heard by those outside, sadly, where the only continued noises were Danzo’s pained gasps.

“You worm,” the elder ground out. “You won’t – get away – with this!”

Orochimaru wrinkled his nose. “I prefer snake, thank you.” Then he crouched and gingerly picked up Danzo’s discarded arm. “Though I do appreciate your donation, I must say. It was always within my plans to retrieve my creation from you… nevertheless, it was kind of you to hold onto it for me.” An expression of utter greed entered his eyes, and then he turned toward the arm and started caressing it. “At last, we reunite–”

Whatever else he may have said to the arm was cut off by a gigantic fireball that promptly, without any sort of warning, scorched the arm into charred nonexistence. Simultaneously, Orochimaru barely had half a second to dodge, which was not a moment to soon, for in the next second, a blade swiped swiftly across where his head had just been, shearing his luscious black hair right off.

Wide-eyed, a short-haired Orochimaru (and everyone watching) turned to stare at the assailant.

“What in the world…?” someone muttered.

“It can’t be,” said another.

Before them, Danzo Shimura had gotten back up. In his remaining arm he now clutched his cane-turned sword and at his feet lay Orochimaru’s black tresses, which had been savagely lobbed off.

His snarl was that of a caged animal. “Your head,” Danzo spat, “will be next.”

---

Ino wasn’t normally one to swear either, nor cry, but now she couldn’t help doing both in a very loud manner. Her mother had locked her in a dark room with both of her teammates, one of which was a corpse. They’d been told not to make any noise. She almost wanted to laugh at that. Make noise? How were they supposed to? Choji was dead and Shikamaru well on his way to joining him.

Why, oh why, Ino wondered, did Shika have to decide to eat something today of all days? He normally never even bothered to touch any of the food at all during parties! Ino continued sobbing quietly. Why did they have to get invaded today, anyway? Or at all, for that matter? And why did Ino’s party have to be the focus of all poisoned food? Would they all blame her for it? Or her father? But… she suppressed a loud sob. Her father was missing too. Who knows if he was still alive! Was he lying in a ditch somewhere?

Ino continued to cry. And Sakura, Sakura, who she’d only just managed to rekindle her friendship with… Sakura, who had only been at the damned party because of Ino…. Sakura was also missing. Was she still alive? She hadn’t seemed to care for Ino’s suggestion not to eat any of the tasty foods seeing as she didn’t have any engagement proposals to worry about. What if she’d eaten something too after all?

Ino stared at her teammates and cried even harder. She couldn’t see Shikamaru’s face in the darkness, but she could tell that he had a fever and his breathing was labored. Thankfully, he had only eaten a few pieces of shrimp to Ino’s knowledge, so he likely had more time left than Choji had had…

Ino cursed herself over and over. If only she’d bothered to learn more about plants, perhaps now she could’ve been able to make an antidote. Or if not make one, then find some herbs that could alleviate the symptoms, perhaps she could’ve bought Shikamaru and all the others some more time…

From what Ino could tell, she was at Shikamaru’s house, which was currently being used as a base of sorts in which to treat the injured and hide away the other guests of the party which were still alive. Shikamaru’s mom had gone missing during the chaos and no one knew where either of their dads was, so all the responsibility had fallen on Chihiro’s shoulders. Ino’s mom was flitting about, trying to treat the poisoned with what little they had at hand, giving orders to those who hadn’t eaten and generally managing the chaos. She’d also snapped at Ino to stay locked in the Nara’s secret attic and not leave, having gone as far as to put a freaking guard on the door.

Ino scowled. For some annoying reason, both of her parents had always been extremely overprotective of her for as long as she could remember, and would sometimes go to extremes, like right now. She wasn’t a kid anymore! Did her mom really have to lock her in a freaking attic and assign dumb Taro to guard the door?

Hesitantly, she slowly got up and carefully opened the door. One mind control jutsu later, her cousin was passed out on the floor and Ino free to walk away.

For a second, she hesitated. Ino didn’t want to leave her teammates and the relative safety of the attic, but at the same time… she was Ino Yamanaka, heiress of the Yamanaka clan, shinobi of Konohagakure no sato… she was one of the few who hadn’t gotten poisoned. How could she stay in that room? Even if her mother had told her to, Ino refused to hide behind that as an excuse. She had to act.

And so, ever so carefully, she tiptoed down the stairs and into the main part of the Nara Main House.

Every room she passed was filled to the brim with moaning and passed out men, women and children. They’d all been poisoned. Some of them had died already. Ino continued past them quietly.

She didn’t know what she was looking for until she found it – there, inside one of the rooms, voices.

“What are you saying, Chihiro-san?” someone cried shrilly. “That’s outrageous!”

There was a real ruckus from the looks of it, and somehow the cause appeared to be her mom. Ino pressed her ear to the door. Just what was going on? Finally, the voices quietened again and Chihiro spoke.

“It pains me as much as you to say it, Yumehara-san, and you know this. But I believe it to be the only possibility. How else could this have happened?”

“But Chihi–”

“Enough!” Chihiro snapped, eyes narrowed to slits.

The entire room fell silent.

“I’m truly sorry to say this everyone,” her mother continued, in a gentler tone, “but the reality is this: someone has clearly infiltrated our kitchens whilst preparations for the party were being made. Someone close to us has broken our trust in a way that is simply unacceptable. It cannot go unpunished – it will not go unpunished. This is the reality of our situation: there’s a spy among us – and you all know it.” Her mother’s voice had never sounded so cold before. “It’d be madness to ignore the threat. Now, I will mind-scan each and every one of you, and I will find the spy. And you better not try to resist, or I will presume you guilty. Starting now, none of us leave this room.”

Ino stared at the door in horror. And she’d thought her mom sounded menacing when she made her eat her vegetables!

And yet, Ino relished the tone. Her mom was in charge of the situation and there was a safety in that. It helped calm her frayed nerves, if only marginally. 

Once Chihiro found out who the spy was, she’d likely extract the knowledge of the poison’s ingredients from them, and then they could perhaps fetch the antidote in time. The greenhouses were pretty much on the other side of the village, but Ino didn’t care. She’d go herself if she had to. She’d get whatever the antidote was or die trying. She wouldn’t lose both of her teammates in one night. No. She refused to.

Hang in there, Shika.

---

In another part of the village, Yoshino Nara was aflame. Well, not literally, but judging by the way some shinobi flinched away from her, it might as well have been the case.

“Yoshino-sama!” cried one of the Nara clan jonin that had followed her. “Please! Stop this madness! You’re our matriarch, you cannot risk your life like this!”

Yoshino didn’t even pretend to listen to him. “My son,” she growled out as she beheaded a sand chunin, “is dead because of these, these disgusting… these disgusting little cockroaches! Do you think that I care about anything else, Nara ?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned away from the sputtering Nara, retrieved an arrow from another sound nin’s chest, and shot it at one of the invaders. A few seconds later she’d disappeared into the fray again.

“She’s completely off her rocker,” one of the Yamanaka whispered.

“Goddamn, what a mess,” another Nara muttered. “Are we really sure Shikamaru is dead?”

“It looks like it. Though he was lost in the chaos, we know he ate from the poisoned food as well.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Goddamn it.” The Nara captured a ninja that had been attempting to kill Yoshino in his shadow. “Why did Shikaku-sama have to pick such a feisty wife? She’s going to get herself killed at this rate and then what? Both our heir and matriarch will have passed!”

“We must keep her from getting killed before that,” another Nara suggested, throwing a kunai to finish off the nin.

“Yeah, easier said than done! She’s a complete hothead,” muttered the first one. “Don’t think anything can stop her at this point.”

“Stop your muttering and get your asses over here!” Yoshino cried out from elsewhere. “You lot can either drag your feet all the way like lazy ass cowards, or you can help me avenge my son and teach these bastards a lesson!”

The various Nara and Yamanaka shinobi who had followed her in an attempt to keep her from doing just that looked at each other.

Finally, the same Nara from earlier sighed. “What the hell… I’m with her.”

And somehow, they all followed suit after that, entering the fray with fierce battle cries.

 

---

It was time. He had to do this. Kakashi slowly rose from his hiding place and looked at Gai. His ‘eternal rival’ gave him an uncharacteristically serious look, one which Kakashi returned. He had hoped Gai’s presence would somehow help… but he’d clearly just been making up excuses to himself. This was his mission, one he had to do alone. Slowly, he curled his hands into Konoha standard for ‘regroup with team’ and looked at his friend firmly. Gai had to leave. It was pointless for him to be there when he could be helping elsewhere.

“My rival. Are you sure?”

“I will be fine,” Kakashi said. “The person I have to kill is strong, but I have a plan.”

“But – I could help–”

“This is between me and her.” The last thing Kakashi wanted was for his impending confrontation with Río was for it to be unfair in numbers on top of everything else. “You can be of more help elsewhere.”

The green-clad man clearly understood this, for he gave Kakashi a hesitant look and the fakest thumbs-up he’d ever seen, and then departed. “Good luck, Kakashi.”

He nodded and turned away. He would need more than that. He was on his own now. Heavyhearted, Kakashi made a shadow clone and gave it strict orders to attack whilst Río’s back was turned. He told it to hide and activate Jiraiya’s signals around the perimeter, to cast a genjutsu that would conceal them from outside observers. With a nod at him, the clone turned and disappeared behind a building on the other end of the street – it was done. The mission had begun, there was no going back now, nothing left to do but to jump down to where Río was and make his move… and so he did.

His landing behind her was soft and silent, as usual, but Río turned immediately. She was alert. That was a good sign. It meant he wouldn’t have to kill her with her back turned. She also didn’t immediately attack, which should probably have been a good sign as well but only made him feel all the worse for what he was about to do. 

“Huh,” she said, glancing at him, then turning back to survey a scroll she’d taken from a downed sand nin’s pouch. “What are you doing here?” 

“Eh,” Kakashi said. “My flat’s close by.” This was a lie, one which he hoped Río would catch, to give her some kind of warning. However, it was hard to say whether she had noticed it or not because of her Root mask.

“Hm, did it get destroyed or something?” she asked, scanning him from head to toe, then glancing at the scroll again. “You’re wearing a rather… peculiar getup.” 

“Actually, yes. A snake barged in while I was showering.” Why had he said that? 

There was a pause. “Er. Um, I’m sorry. For the flat, I mean.” Río glanced at him again. “At least your outfit looks weird enough that the enemy might do a double-take, giving you an advantage.”

“Right…” It wasn’t that weird, was it? Wait, never mind. He had a job to do!

 “Anyhow,” she said, adjusting her mask, “stay alive, will you? I gotta go.” She turned briskly, ostensibly to do just that, but – 

“Wait.”

Río paused, turning to him, head cocked. “Something wrong?”

Kakashi found he couldn’t form words. “Uh… er. Good job on taking down those guys. From earlier, I mean.” 

Río stared at him, probably at a loss. Well, she wouldn’t be the only one. Kakashi was also at a loss with his own stupidity. What was he even doing? Small-talk? Really, Kakashi? He was stalling, he knew, but he had to stop… damn it!

“You were watching us fight those guys?” Río asked after a beat. “For what purpose?”

Oh, great. Now she was onto him. There was no backing down now.

“Well… I was fighting nearby…” Another lie, this one even more obvious.

Kakashi could see the exact moment she attempted to use her mind reading abilities on him and realized she couldn’t. She reared back slightly, as though surprised, maybe pained, but it was too late. Jiraiya’s array clearly worked to perfection, and she had realized Kakashi’s intentions much too late. From behind, he could see his clone approach. He had weaved his web like a spider and now she was the fly trapped in its midst. A part of him felt a sick little thrill at having trapped her. He knew he was probably the first person to ever take the mind reader by surprise… the first… and the last.

Her killing intent was like a whip in the face. Wide-eyed, she’d turned toward him, clearly having realized his intentions. Kakashi just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her. He was sure she understood the gravity of her situation. She would have to fight him without her strongest asset whilst Kakashi would be able to use the sharingan… she likely wasn’t used to fighting without her special abilities.

It was then that Kakashi’s shadow clone stepped into her path, caging her between them. The message was clear. “ You’re not leaving here.”  

Río turned, very, very slowly to look at him, then at the clone. She was keeping both of them in her peripherals. He couldn’t see her expression with the mask – just her eyes – but he could tell that she was alert, tense in the way that only prey can be. The only question was… would she choose fight – or flight? 

They stood there in tense silence, none budging until – in the span of less than a second, Río’s fingers began to flash through handsigns at breakneck speed, finishing when she twisted her hand into the tiger seal. Shit. Fight it is.

Next second, a large, whip-like water column spurted from her hand and launched itself toward him.

Water? Her element was supposed to be earth or wind? What?! He had not accounted for that!

Kakashi substituted himself with nearby rubble and just barely had time to see his clone dodging the water column with only inches to spare. It wasn’t an ordinary attack, he realized, she was using the exact same water to attack continuously, similar to a water whip. He noticed that his clone was about to be popped and switched with it again, forcefully drawing his katana with every intention of severing the water whip… except instead of dissolving, the water locked around his katana like a coiled snake. Río pulled as though it were a lasso and the katana went flying.

Kakashi’s mind went blank. Except for Haku, who had been able to turn water to ice, he had never met anyone who could make water solid like that. The closest he had seen were semi-solid attacks like Zabuza’s water dragon jutsu, but even that had burst upon contact. The only notable exception the water prison jutsu, but it too had a soft, liquid like layer on the outside . What the hell!? Making water completely solid like that… not even Kakashi knew how to do it.

Stumped, he leapt back to snatch his blade from the air. He noticed belatedly that Río had used the brief pause to start flipping through a longer set of handsigns and braced himself, but a second glance at her fingerless gloves – smeared with blood – told him that she was performing a summoning jutsu. That meant she intended to use her summons either as a distraction to flee, to alert her comrades of her situation or in order to try to destroy the seals that were keeping her from using her mind powers. Or a combination of all three… damn it! He hadn’t considered she might have a summoning contract. Currently, summoning was the best possible course of action she could take, and he cursed that he hadn’t seen it coming.

By then she had already finished the handsigns and slammed her palm into the ground. His worries were confirmed, though Kakashi couldn’t help but be surprised. In the smoke cloud, a bunch of… large, rat-like creatures had appeared. 

He blinked at them, for a moment so startled at her choice of summon that he forgot himself. 

“…beavers?” he mouthed. Seriously? Beavers?

“Fuck you,” Río snarled. “You don’t get to make quips about my summons after backstabbing me like this!”

“It was just a question,” Kakashi defended himself lamely, even as he dodged a sharp swing of her water whip. 

“Can it, bastard!”

Believe me, I don’t want to be here any more than you do, he thought, almost wishing that she could read his mind if only so she’d know that he wasn’t attacking her by choice. 

Signaling to his clone, Kakashi put up an earth wall and summoned his own pack.

“Yo, boss, what do we do?” Pakkun’s voice was a welcome distraction. Kakashi thought quickly, strategies flitting through his head.

“Make sure those beavers can’t leave or destroy the seals around the perimeter,” he instructed. That was the priority. He had meant to go easy on Río in hopes that this wouldn’t be a death match (he wasn’t sure exactly what he had hoped for), but he was realizing now just how naive he had been –  she was too dangerous for games, that much had become clear to him in the first few seconds of combat. Tenzo’s assessment of her ‘subpar’ skills was very clearly outdated, and his assumption that she’d be helpless without her mental abilities was false as well. He should have seen it coming. Kakashi himself always trained without his sharingan so that it would only have to be a last resort – Río must be the same. Damn it all.

At the end of the day, Kakashi was nothing but a man with self-preservation in his veins. He liked Río and he felt for her and for Chihiro, he truly did… but he also couldn’t disobey the hokage. He refused to throw it all away for a likable stranger, technically even an enemy. He refused to become a missing nin, and he refused to die here today if he had anything to say about it.

“Boss? You alright?” Pakkun was looking at him with some concern, and Kakashi knew that things were bad when he spaced out mid-fight. 

“Fine. Follow your orders,” he snapped with annoyance.

Pakkun gave him a long look. “I’ll forgive that tone because you’re acting strange, boss,” the pug said in his usual deep cadence. “But I expect you to tell me what’s going on the moment we’ve cornered those water rats.”

Kakashi nodded and shot out from behind the wall. He could see his clone engaging Río, though being a clone it was clearly losing. He quickly sprang forth again, katana drawn, and engaged her once again. From the corner of his eye, he could see his ninken chasing after the beavers, who were unfortunately doing a good job of squirreling away.

“Those guys are fast, for large water rats, anyway,” he heard Pakkun grunt from somewhere to the side.

“They are not water rats!” Río snapped. She was yelling, surprisingly, at the dog and not at him. “And as you can see, my summons are capable of intelligent thought, clearly unlike you and him , since he saw it fit to attack me!”

Pakkun stared at her, probably sort of confused at being spoken to by an enemy (they usually stuck to Kakashi for trash talk) and after staring at Río for a second, evidently decided not to engage and shot off after her summons again. 

“Hey, you stupid dog! Don’t ignore me!”

It was kind of funny that she had addressed Pakkun like that… The rest of Kakashi’s thoughts were put on hold m, however, when Río suddenly turned tail and sprinted . Kakashi was confused for all of a second until he realized where she was going and gave chase. Damn! She was fast. If she managed to make it past Jiraiya’s tags, she would have her mind powers back, and normally that would be a good excuse to stop the fight, but Río looked  angry enough that he wasn’t sure she would want to. He couldn’t chance that. If she chose to get revenge on him, this might get ugly quick – and so he channeled lightning chakra to the soles of his feet, immediately boosting his speed. It wasn’t quite the chidori, but close. Río did what many couldn’t and, cutting a sharp corner in her sprint, successfully evaded him. How the…? It was as though she had known that he couldn’t change directions well when charging with the Chidori unless he was using the sharingan. Was it just a guess? Or what?

He noticed Río running off again and was forced to uncover the eye as he sprinted after her for better trajectory prediction. This time he managed to successfully respond to her faints and wrapped her into yet another bout of sparring with his katana. He was starkly reminded of his ANBU days, of the adrenaline during S-ranks, of the knowledge that one mistake might be the end… 

As if on cue, his clone took the chance to attack Río from behind, where she was wide open, but it must have been a trap on her part because the moment it approached, Río whipped around, blindingly fast, and stabbed it with a concealed senbon. The clone was no more. Note to self: she’s a tricky one , Kakashi thought. From the returning memories, Kakashi was hit with the knowledge that while he had been summoning the pack and the clone had engaged, Río had launched a series of water whip attacks, nearly gracing the clone more than once. Perhaps most worrying was that she had been able to change the shape of the water whip’s tip, elongating and sharpening it seemingly at will… And damn, a weapon that could morph and change shapes, if only slightly, was no joke. 

Thankfully, he had an easier time than his clone. With the sharingan, after some observation, he was able to predict when she was about to change the shape or size of the water whip, reducing the attack’s threat-level significantly. This gave him a definite edge over Río and forced her to discard the now useless water whip, which no doubt was no longer worth the chakra drain, and fight him old school, katana versus katana. All ANBU were well versed in kenjutsu, but Kakashi was one of the best and he could tell that he was better than her. 

That, unfortunately, didn’t mean he could afford to relax. He had let himself be distracted for a moment and, seeing this, Río had put in a boost of speed and landed a roundhouse kick that could have been very dangerous if he hadn’t managed to parry it at the last second. He was still amazed at how quickly the tables had nearly turned. She was wicked fast, that was for sure, and he’d do well to remember it. A single slip up was all it would take for her to catch him off guard, and so Kakashi upped the ante and with a single handsign, began channeling lightning chakra into his katana. It wasn’t a great strategy for long fights, as most blades ended up broken after a while of channeling lightning though them, but it was an extremely effective method of attack while it lasted. By this point, most of his enemies usually realized they were done for.

Río was not most opponents.

She had initially been shocked (yes, in both ways) when her own blade had first electrocuted her as it clashed against his, but had recovered quickly. Normally, most opponents were finished by that point, for it meant that they could no longer parry his attacks with their own blade – metal to metal – without being fried…  but not so Río. He both cursed and admired her ability to adapt. Her kenjutsu style, which had previously been a very standard, decent if slightly bland one, promptly… morphed . Where any formal kenjutsu master would have parried, would have done this or that or moved in a certain way, Río seemed to have promptly discarded all notions of modern swordfighting out of the window as her style devolved into something wild, unpredictable, feline-like and…  oddly familiar? 

She would resort to dodging all of the swings any sane person would have parried, contorting in ways Kakashi had not thought possible until she perfectly demonstrated them, forcing him back with powerful kicks, and when those were out of the question, using kunai or even barbed wire to void his attacks, and had, in one memorable occasion, thrown rubble in his face in order to dodge what would have been a finishing blow. Río was, simply put, a crafty nightmare of an opponent. Kakashi couldn’t help but really admire this versatility, a part of him oddly thrilled at the fight.

He stopped briefly to catch his breath, as had Río, on the rooftop in front of his. They were both panting hard and Kakashi noted with some resignation that his blade was already very charred. However, it didn’t matter. It had been a long time since he’d fought like this. He felt alive, he felt like with every blow exchanged he knew her better, down to her core. 

“Throwing rubble, really?” Kakashi called out. “I think I’ve seen my genin do that.”

She responded by scooping up a roof tile and chugging it at him. “Here, have an upgrade.”

Grinning, Kakashi used the opportunity to substitute with the tile and launch himself across the gap between rooftops, katana drawn and blazing, but Río had anticipated this and had sent a series of water bullets at the tile even before the substitution, yet  Kakashi had in turn also anticipated this and was able to chained his substitution with yet another one, this time with a kunai he had thrown in advance, thus landing safely on the other roof. Río tisked with annoyance at his one-upping her and chugged another tile at him. Kakashi bent his neck to the side and watched it soar past bemusedly. 

“That your secret weapon?”

“Shut it, Kakashi. I’ll show you secret weapon!” the blonde snapped, spitting a water bullet at him. Kakashi drew his katana and dodged, and they launched themselves at the other, once more swept up in a deadly clash of blades. 

As they fought, Kakashi was struck by the familiarity of it. He had felt it earlier already, that reminder of times past, of his ANBU days, but it was more than that. There was this oddly familiar frustration at Río’s almost uncanny ability to avoid blows that should by all rights have hit. With some of her faints and dodging maneuvers and clever little ploys, he felt as though he had seen them before… but how could that be? They weren’t exactly standard procedure, and he could count on one hand the number of people he knew that would’ve been able to contort like that. Even when Kakashi had upped his attacks, she resisted, countering his forms in unpredictable ways… which became increasingly predictable as his sense of dejá vu increased. 

He felt almost like he’d had this exact spar before, down to every blow – but that was ludicrous. Or was it? What if he’d fought Río once and she’d erased his memories or something? And yet the recollection was burning on the tip of his figurative tongue, he could almost see it superimposed over the current fight… and yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When had it been? Why couldn’t he remember fighting Río?

Kakashi was partially aware of the destruction of their surroundings, how their fight had ended up leveling a part of the street and how even the rooftop they were currently duking it out on was covered in scorch marks, water and shattered bits of earth, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was her and what she would do next and what he would do after that.

It was a great fight, one of the best he’d had. And he won. It was a stupid way of winning, too. Río’s left foot landed upon a jutting rock and caved slightly. It was very subtle, but he could tell she had sprained her ankle, something that could be fixed with a chakra splint… but Kakashi was faster and his sharingan saw all – and the next second he managed to finally trap her in a jutsu prison similar to the one he’d used on Sasuke, but with a large earth dome surrounding her that would make escaping impossible, her hands pinned so she couldn’t form handsigns. As he stood there and stared at her, the world around Kakashi seemed to slow back to its usual crawl, their panting the only sounds either made. He had won.

Notes:

Drew this almost a year ago, when I first came up with the concept of Rio out of the blue. She was just supposed to be this character to use in order to have someone Danzo could monologue to… but it quickly spiralled. *sighs* I regret nothing.
Frankly, I am constantly trying to improve my writing so that one day I may be good enough to get something published (despite English not being my first language) and I feel like being able to create compelling original characters who are not just a self insert is a big step toward that goal. Creating Rio taught me a lot of the dos and don’ts on how to introduce new characters to readers, and generally I learned a whole lot with her arc, though I know some of you are a bit miffed at me that it’s cutting time away from Sakura and co. It’s not really making Sakura’s story shorter but rather richer, however I can understand why some would be annoyed at getting this added package they didn’t ask for. Happily, I write for fun and to improve so ummm yeah I’m going to keep doing this sort of thing lol It will also mean we will delve into more of the side character’s pasts soon – more notably: Shikaku, Minato and eventually Tobirama’s (yeah I could t resist). Anyways, hope you liked this extract of the chapter. As you know, next week you’ll be getting the last part of it!

Chapter 25: The Start of the Invasion pt 3

Notes:

the last part of the chapter is here! (sorry if you got another update message besides for this one, I accidentally uploaded the next chapter rather than this one). Anyways, here you go!

Quite close by, Sakura had just finished detouring around a block of buildings in order to make it safely to the Academy. She’d been forced to hide more than once in order to avoid enemy nin and, on one memorable occasion, had done so within an odd hole in the ground that one of the many bombs had blown open. Closer inspection of the previously unassuming hiding place had revealed what looked to be an entire underground facility of some sort in there, and, following a hunch, Sakura had used it to traverse below the streets undetected, making it safely to an area close to the Academy, where the careful application of an explosive tag had opened up a convenient exit. She’d felt truly like a pro, having made it to the Academy without a scratch. What she found once she got there, however, left her cold.

Iruka-sensei was bleeding out in the school yard.

Sakura’s eyes widened as she ran dazedly up to her former teacher.

“Iruka-sensei!” She fell to her knees by his side, gripping onto his blood-stained vest. “Sensei!”

This man had put band aids over her knees when she’d scraped them as a child. This was the only teacher who’d believed in her from the very start back at the Academy, the one to encouragingly call on her back when she’d been too shy to raise her hand in class, the one to always smile at her. He had been a fair teacher, with an endless supply of patience and a just temperament. Umino Iruka was a good man no matter how you looked at it. He had been her promotion’s adored Iruka-sensei and now he was dying.

“Sensei!” Sakura cried again. Half a year ago, this man had still been lecturing her about types of clouds and how to recognize them, about chakra control and natures, about tracking techniques…  scolding the pranksters like Naruto and praising the better students like her and Sasuke for their performance. 

Now he was bleeding out right before her. “P-please, please get up, sensei.

Iruka shook his head minutely and coughed wetly. His spittle was red. “Na-Naruto,” he gasped out. “Is he… alright?”

Sakura barely felt tears stream down her cheeks. “I…” Naruto? Why was he asking about Naruto? But more importantly, what should she even tell him? She didn’t know whether Naruto was alright! That in itself worried her sick, but could she tell that to a dying man? “I… he’s fine, sensei,” she lied shakily.

Relieved, Iruka closed his eyes and coughed again, grasping her hand feebly. “Sakura. The children… you must… go…” He passed out.

Scared beyond belief, Sakura shakily got up and stared at the building that loomed before her. Even though he hadn’t finished his sentence, the message had been received loud and clear. The children were still in danger and from the looks of it, she was the only person around who could do something about it. If she focused, she could feel chakra signatures within the building. They were still in there alright… but why was it so quiet? Scared beyond measure, Sakura stood back up and faced her former school. It was up to her to go in and find out.

Never had the Academy seemed so ominous before.

Trying not to be heard or seen, Sakura hesitantly approached the once welcoming red building. Deciding that the door was an obvious no-go, she clambered up the wall and to the rooftop. Using one of her hairpins to unlock a window like Tetsuya had taught her was second nature by now, and soon she was inside. What now?

Sakura felt a genjutsu slowly… but surely… begin to seep into her pores… settling over her skin… She started feeling woozy… and wasn’t the floor so cozy…? She was tired and wanted to stop… worrying…

“Kai!” Just in time, she managed to dispel it.

Phew, that was a close call. It did explain, at least, why everything was so quiet. All of the children were caught in it no doubt. Would they be killed as they slept? Horrified at the prospect, Sakura hastened down the hallway.

She found two foreign-looking nin in the teacher’s lounge. One was standing over the corpse of a cleaning lady Sakura didn’t know, the other holding a kunai to Kaori-sensei’s neck. Kaori-sensei had once upon a time taught Sakura all about flower and fan languages and how to dance like a geisha… and now Kaori-sensei was about to be murdered! There was really no time to think, to strategize, to wonder whether revealing herself now was the best choice… Sakura knew that if she didn’t act right then, Kaori-sensei would be dead. In that split second, she had to make a decision.

Fear weighing heavily on her mind, she reached into her weapons pouch. Her hand closed around a shuriken. She knew that as soon as she moved into the room, she’d be seen. Sakura quickly retrieved another two kunai. She launched into the lounge and threw her weapons at once.

Thank the kami, her aim was true and the man holding Kaori-sensei got hit in one eye by the shuriken and on his neck and arm by the kunai. It was all so sudden that he let go of her to clutch at his wounds. The other man dropped the cleaning lady’s corpse, stood up and turned around, toward Sakura. At that point, however, she’d already jumped on him and started stabbing him desperately. He was strong, but somehow Sakura managed to keep him from overpowering her and he… ended up limp on the ground. Sakura turned and saw that Kaori-sensei was alright and had finished off the first assailant, though she was choking a little and holding her windpipe.

“Kaori-sensei?” she asked urgently. “Are you alright?”

The woman nodded, though her eyes were wide and her usual over-complicated coif was in complete disarray.

“Can you talk, Kaori-sensei?”

She shook her head, gesturing toward her windpipe again.

“Oh… alright. You…” Sakura hesitated. “You know some healing, don’t you?”

Kaori nodded.

“Can you heal Iruka-sensei then? He’s in the yard. He’ll – die soon if no one does anything.”

Kaori stood up hesitantly. She glanced down the corridor as if to say ‘will you be alright?’. Sakura nodded shakily. Without another backward glance, the woman practically ran the other way.

---

Hiashi’s first born child was a failure… or so the Hyuga elders said. As her father, he could never think of Hinata in such terms, however, it was true that Hanabi, his youngest, had never had any issue with speaking her mind or using violence the way her sister did, had in fact soaked up the gentle fist technique like a sponge – but Hiashi felt that Hinata’s failings were not her own. Eearly on into her life, teachers and elders alike had stressed endlessly how polite Hinata must always be, how she must always strive to achieve diplomacy, to never offend anyone if possible… and the poor girl had been intimidated to death by these statements. Of course, they weren't even strictly correct. At all. As clan head, Hiashi had to live with the reality that other important figures wouldn’t always agree with him and that giving into their views would have been akin to political suicide. To gain other’s respect, one must stand up for one’s beliefs, this he believed to his very core. However, as a young clan heiress with so much political power in her hands, the elders had insisted that they’d first need to ensure the girl would make no blunders. Hinata’s teachers had sought to instill politeness and diplomacy into the very marrow of her bones. Unfortunately, these lessons had proved a double edged sword, putting a great amount of pressure upon her young shoulders, pressure that had been too much for such a syoung, sensitive girl. The elders had made sure to let his daughter know just how negative any sort of wrongly-worded statement from her could be, and as such Hinata had developed a chronic fear of speaking out of turn or even defending her own views – with a stutter to match. Not even Hiashi could get her to speak to him besides for mumbled replies on most days.

In short, it was true that his daughter may have been naturally shy, but he was certain that most of her social issues were the clan’s fault …his fault. He should have noticed what was happening, should have put a stop to the elders and their insidious teachings, but he hadn't wanted to see what unraveled before him. He'd simply thought his daughter's timidness a product of her age, something that would wear off with time. And the elders had been so convincing, telling him that any young clan heiress (especially a woman!) would need to have impeccable manners even from a young age, that this was for Hinata’s own good… he had failed her.

Now his daughter’s confidence had been shot and that was the worst problem a clan heir could have.

This initial lack of confidence had only made things worse, as it had kept Hinata from making any friends or daring to excel in front of her classmates, causing to be even less confident in her own skills; a vicious cycle. Hiashi was certain that this lack of confidence was impairing her education in the shinobi arts to bat. Taijutsu, for instance, demanded it in spades. Not only was it heart-breaking to see his daughter struggling so – to see Hanabi begin to look down upon her older sister for it – but it was also dangerous for Hinata’s future. Without confidence, a ninja would falter in midst of a fight and nothing was a better path to a quick death than that.

At this point, Hiashi would have given anything, anything at all – all the money in the Hyuga coffers, his right hand – to restore his girl’s confidence, to be able to sit with her in the porch during the evenings and just talk, like father and daughter, without reservations, without the ever-present tenseness in his daughter's shoulders... without the stutter. It was, he could admit, if only to himself, his greatest desire. Something so simple, and yet so unattainable.

He had tried pushing Hinata harder during training in an attempt to see a marked improvement in her skill, which would make things easier on her. He had tried emphasizing the importance of poise and posture to the girl, lecturing her seriously on how crucial confidence was to a shinobi, and gotten increasingly frustrated when Hinata only faltered further, retreating deeper and deeper into her shell with each of his words, with ever attempt. He could no longer deny it: all of his efforts had backfired. He was a terrible father, one that didn't know how to help his daughter, for all the prestige and nobleness of their blood. It had gotten to a point where he almost felt like she feared him.

But then that had happened. The second stage of the chunin exams.

Only a scant few weeks ago, Hiashi had seen from Hatake’s memory how Hinata had bloomed during the man’s exam, how she had managed to defeat Neji, his brother's prodigal son. It wouldn’t have been possible in a one-on-one match setting, of that Hiashi was sure. The fact that teamwork had been the key to the test was not lost on him. If you asked Hiashi, teamwork had clearly been the key to Hinata’s increased confidence as well. Being one in many, a part of something larger than herself must have given her strength which she alone did not feel. He had to admit that he was thankful to Hatake for coming up with that kind of test. He’d always thought of the grey-haired man as a gopher – but that had changed now. Watching his test had been the highlight of Hiashi’s month, he’d been so happy. For so long he had thought that he’d ruined Hinata’s future irredeemably, and yet the girl had thrived that day on the hospital rooftop. He remembered her pleased little smile when she’d returned to the compound… oh, Hinata. How could it be that she didn’t feel the same pride, the same sense of belonging within her very clan, the one she was heiress to, as that day on a rooftop with children she barely knew?

But this was a good start. Now that he knew how to help her he would. More than ever he wanted to see his daughter become the clan head he knew she could be, he wanted to be there to see it.

Inoichi’s daughter’s role in the whole affair had not escaped him either, nor that of the girl named ‘Sakura’. He had found out from some lucky eavesdropping (not that he’d ever admit to stooping so low) on Yoshino Nara, that the Sakura girl had been invited to Ino’s birthday party as a guest of honor. In that moment Hiashi had known that this was his daughter’s chance to finally make some friends. The Yamanaka and Hyuga clans had especially bad relations, but he had for once cast his pride aside and networked as much as he could to get an invite for himself and Hinata. He had known that Inoichi’s girl would likely be busy with suitors for most of the night, but that left the civilian Sakura. This wasn’t the first he heard of that girl either – she was the one who had managed to win the ‘kunoichi of the year’ spot of Hinata’s graduating class thanks to off the charts test-taking skills and a determination to compensate for lacking combat ability – managing to beat every girl in her year, besides for Ino, through sheer stubbornness and cunning, or at least that was what Hinata had mumbled to him back then.

He remembered how angry he’d been when he’d found out that some civilian-born girl had stolen the top spot from his daughter, beating her in a spar by throwing sand at her eyes. Hinata was clearly the superior fighter, better even than Ino, and Hiashi had hoped that by winning the little tournament among the girls at the Academy she’d finally gain some confidence. He had drilled her in the counters of the Yamanaka forms to the point where he’d been confident she could take Inoichi’s girl in her sleep – though his calculations had always banked on the fact that she wouldn’t have any issues with any other fight, as the rest of her female classmates were civilians. Not so.

Turns out he’d put the poor girl through all of that hard work – only for some civilian nobody to come along and use cheap tricks to win, not even giving his daughter the chance to fight Ino. And Hiashi couldn’t even fault the other girl for it because throwing sand to level the playing field was a smart thing to do, they were ninja, resourcefulness meant survival; he could only wish his own daughter had that kind of nerve. He didn’t forget her name either – the girl who had given him so much grief: Haruno Sakura.

What he had not known was that Haruno Sakura had apparently left a strong impression on his daughter as well. This Sakura was clearly not the average civilian, that much was for sure, and Hiashi had resolved to make an exception to his usual rules and let the girl become Hinata’s friend if that’s what it took. So, after much work and politicking, he’d weaseled his way into an invite for the Yamanka’s party and once there had set things up in such a way that the Sakura girl (and why had nobody told him that she had pink hair?) would run into Hinata. To Hiashi’s utmost delight, things had done better than he could have dreamed. He watched with bated breath (whilst pretending to engage in polite talk with other clan heads) as Haruno Sakura spotted and merrily greeted his unsurely-feet-shuffling daughter. In fact, Haruno seemed to be interested in humoring Hinata’s shyness and had done a much better job of coaxing his daughter out of her shell than Hiashi or the elders had ever managed in all of twelve years.

He’d been ready to cry tears of joy for the happy smile on his daughter’s face when he’d gotten the message for the emergency council meeting. He was sorry to cease his observations and had left reluctantly, if in high spirits. Perhaps placid talks on the porch with his two daughters weren't so unattainable after all.

Now, barely two hours later, here he was, wishing with all his heart he had thrown his duty to the wayside if only just this once and stayed with his daughter. Hinata would need him now, her and Hanabi too – who had been gone on a camping exercise. They would both need him. His clan needed him – and yet here he was, trapped like a cornered rat.

---

 

“Well, well, well. Looks like elder Shimura still has some fight left in him,” Orochimaru drawled. “Unfortunately, he seems to be missing an arm and an eye. Not very good odds, hmm?”

“We’ll see about that,” Danzo growled threateningly, twirling his cane-turned-sword menacingly.

However, the one speaking was a shadow clone, whilst the real Danzo hid under his strongest genjutsu. The councilman wasn’t an idiot. It was already a small miracle he’d managed to survive this long. The shadow clone’s trash talk had bought him enough time to start cauterizing the stump which had used to be his arm – otherwise he’d have already bled out by then. Perhaps this is why Orochimaru had indulged in trash talk in the first place; he must have figured that if he kept Danzo talking long enough, he’d simply die in a pool of his own blood. Unfortunately for him, there was little Danzo wouldn’t do to stay alive. In his desperation, he had spewed a fire jutsu over his katana cane, then began to press it firmly right over the gushing stump, all whilst biting into his robe so as not to scream and reveal himself. He faintly heard Orochimaru continue taunting the clone and concentrated as hard as he could on keeping up the clone jutsu. Genjutsu needed little more maintenance than a continuous chakra output, but in the case of shadow clones if the caster lost focus, copies were known to burst… Danzo couldn’t afford for that to happen.

Cauterizing his arm was perhaps the single most painful experience he’d ever undergone, maybe barring the time he’d had his right eye ripped off. Yet in a way, this blow had hurt much more, as he had lost both of his ultimate lines of defense in one go – the arm and the eye. Without them, he was dead meat. How long had it been since he had fought using his inborn skills? After what had happened the last time he’d nearly died, Danzo had insisted in keeping up a training regime… but with the preparations for the invasion, he had largely pushed it to the wayside, and even then, the last time he’d practiced fighting with only one arm was when Tobirama had still been alive. His body’s entire weight distribution was off. He couldn’t take on a sannin as he was.

In other words: Danzo was crippled, out of shape, almost catatonic with pain and completely alone. There was no other way around it: he would die. His only saving grace was Tobirama’s past insistence at drilling one-handed seals into all of his students, which would at least give him a chance to die a fighter and not a pathetic cripple, but even so… he didn’t want to die period .

He cursed Orochimaru’s thoroughness in immediately taking out his Root guard. Now he was surrounded and alone, which meant that all the attention would be on him, which would make escaping almost impossible. If Orochimaru noticed he was talking to a shadow clone… he was done for. At this point, the only strategy left to him was attempting to have the clone fake his death whilst the real Danzo hid. Of course, Orochimaru wasn’t an idiot so that plan was very unlikely to work. Truthfully, his best chance was that some of his agents came looking for him, but he couldn’t rely on that. He had told Río previously that she would be in charge of the on-field directives during the invasion whilst he planned to retreat… 

In other words: no one would look for him. They’d just assume he’d hidden. All he could do now was pray that Río would notice something amiss, but even with her abnormally insightful gut feelings, that she would realize something was amiss when he had told her he would be gone was a stretch. No, he couldn’t count on anyone to come for him.

Danzo breathed out the way he had long ago learned, a sense of battle calm seeping through his pores as he prepared himself for what would perhaps be the hardest trial of his life. Sooner or later, his genjutsu and clone would be discovered; he needed to strike before that time. He only had one chance. The chances of success were slim to none. He prepared himself to do what he hadn’t been able to before – to face death and not flinch back.

He could still see those moments in his inner eye, the worst mistake of his life. Tobirama crouching there, in front of him, still alive but serious, the sounds of explosions in the distance as the nidaime’s index and middle fingers pressed to the floor, face drawn in deep concentration. Danzo could still remember his stern voice giving them the worst possible news as if it was yesterday.

“We’re surrounded. There’s…” An intake of breath. “Twenty of them.” The nidaime hokage's burgundy eyes were closed, face calm even as he delivered the worst possible news. “Judging from their skill in pursuit, I’d say they’re from Kumogakure… most likely from the Kinkaku Unit.”

The Kinkaku Unit was the deadliest threat Konoha had faced. They’d single-handedly managed to turn the tables on the war more than once, were responsible for many of the deaths of Konoha’s best.

Danzo could remember many afternoons looking at the shogi board in Tobirama’s office, the words ‘Kinkaku’ scribbled upon the opponent’s deadliest piece. They needed to be taken out, no matter the cost, but the Kinkaku squad was nearly impossible to track down – rarely did any Konoha teams that encountered the Kinkaku Unit come back. This would’ve been the chance to get rid of them if it weren’t because of team Tobirama’s injuries and the hokage’s own chakra exhaustion. No, Danzo thought. They couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let them catch up. Tobirama was too important. They couldn’t let them get to him while he had chakra exhaustion.

But there was only one idea, for all his knowledge of tactics, that occurred to him in order to avoid that outcome.

It was Kagami who voiced it a moment later, the bastard’s words cutting through the dreadful silence.

“So… a decoy, huh?” He was staring straight at Tobirama, a solemn expression on his face. Danzo noticed that Tobirama was returning Kagami’s look, some sort of conversation only they were privy to occurring.

Torifu’s next words made Danzo look away from them.

“A decoy?” the Akimichi asked seriously. “That’s suicide.”

Danzo glanced at Tobirama again, hoping he would smirk confidently as he was wont to do when they were being ‘blind fools’ and come up with some brilliant plan to get them out of this, to negate Kagami’s statement.

He did not. The hokage’s usually sharp gaze was hazy and withdrawn. It wasn’t his ‘thinking furiously’ look. It was the look of a man who has long since decided on a complicated choice and has made his peace with it. Danzo’s stomach sank with dread. They were all looking at Tobirama, all of them slowly realizing what it meant that the man hadn’t denied Kagami’s statement.

“Who’s it gonna be?” Torifu asked gravely, breaking the silence. He was always one to ask the hard questions.

Danzo glanced at Kagami and then at Hiruzen – his two rivals. Kagami’s hands were shaking, he noticed, and his sharingan had activated on reflex. Hiruzen by contrast looked calm, like a monk in the midst of a deep meditation.

Sarutobi… What are you thinking right now? Danzo wondered. Do you have that kind of resolve? To sacrifice yourself to die? I do. I have to. His jaw clenched. I’m saying it! I’m volunteering!

And yet the seconds ticked by and his mouth remained shut. Danzo noticed he was shaking, his stomach roiling unpleasantly. Say it! he shouted to himself. Say it! You have to! Why? I want to do it! So why can’t I bring my mouth to open?

He knew what that look on Tobirama’s face had meant. He knew why Kagami’s eyes were watery and his breathing hitched. If he didn’t speak up now… Tobirama would… he would…

Danzo had to volunteer before Tobirama could get any stupid ideas!

It was then that Sarutobi raised his chin. “I’ll do it.” The words were spoken defiantly, like he expected someone to contradict him.

As one, the group turned as one to stare at Hiruzen, all except for Danzo, who lowered his face and clenched his jaw with shame.

Damn it! I’m a coward!

He hated with all his being the feeling of relief coursing through his veins. He wouldn’t have to sacrifice himself for Tobirama, Sarutobi would. And he hated that he couldn’t do this himself, but  was simultaneouslyso glad to be spared the dubious honor. He noticed his hand shaking and forcibly clenched his thigh to stop the embarrassing action.

A weight on his shoulder snapped him out of it. He raised his head and found himself looking straight into Hiruzen’s face. His smiling face. He was smiling. The idiotic moron! Didn't he realize what he'd signed up for?!

“I’m leaving everyone to you now, Danzo,” Hiruzen said, still smiling that fucking smile. “I’m sure you’ll–”

It was then that Danzo snapped, his anger at himself bursting forth. “Shut up! I’ll do it! Stop trying to act cool in this situation, Hiruzen!” Damn him, damn him, damn him.

It was Tobirama’s voice which cut off his spiral of hateful thoughts. Calm, serious, as always.

“Danzo…” he said slowly, “you’re always competing with Hiruzen about something, aren’t you?” No, no he didn’t. He wanted to deny it but couldn’t seem to find his voice. “What we need right now is to unite as comrades,” Tobirama continued sternly. “We must work together. Don’t mix personal affairs into this!”

He would’ve done it! If Hiruzen hadn’t, Danzo would’ve volunteered! He would have! Couldn’t he see? Danzo opened his mouth, but Tobirama raised a hand, as if to stop him from speaking. “The truth is, Danzo, your decision was too slow. You must first take a calm look within yourself to understand who you truly are. Right now, you’ll just put everyone at risk.”

His gaze was solemn, pinning Danzo to the spot. It wasn’t true! He knew who he was! He wasn’t slow! He wanted to shout all of this and more but Tobirama had already turned away from him, solemn eyes stopping to rest upon Hiruzen.

“I’m going to be the decoy, obviously.” His voice was tired, almost bored, like he’d just spent a long day in the office, and yet still commanding. His tone brooked no argument. “You are the young flames that will continue to protect the village with your Will of Fire–”

No, he couldn’t be–

Tobirama had never been one for speeches. Never. This, this sounded like– it could only mean–

“You can’t!” Danzo heard himself exclaiming, interrupting the man even though he knew he hated it.

The nidaime’s brow rose, as if asking ‘I can’t?’ and how could he? How could he just sit there and calmly return his look? Like he hadn't just...! Like he hadn't just flipped his entire reality on its head. Like he hadn't just made the most illogical decission of his career. 

Danzo flailed for something, some excuse, some argument, anything , to stop him from doing this. “You’re – you’re the hokage!” You’re my most important person. “There’s no greater shinobi in the village than you!” You mean everything to me. “You – you can’t do this!”

But Tobirama was no longer looking at him. Danzo stilled, eyes wide with horror. He watched as the nidaime got up, now examining them all from above with his penetrating stare, every bit the proud warrior, every bit their beloved mentor, their respected hokage, the man who had managed to keep the village thriving even after Hashirama’s passing… and yet his form spoke of exhaustion. Tobirama looked at all of them, his eyes pausing upon each person in the group. Kagami was the only one he deliberately avoided looking at, the damn Uchiha already crying. Finally, Tobirama’s gaze rested upon Hiruzen.

“Saru…”

Hiruzen straightened. "Sensei?"

Tobirama's voice was fully commanding. “Protect those who love the village and those who believe in you. Take care of the next generation, of the children, as it is for their future that we fight this war.” The nidaime’s jaw set. “Starting tomorrow, you will be the Hokage.” Danzo’s eye widened. Tobirama… Tobirama had stepped down?! He thought he would die?! “Saru,” the former hokage finished seriously, “I’m leaving Konoha to you.”

And then he was gone.

Danzo still remembered Kagami’s choked gasp, remembered turning in time to see his sharingan warp, a strange, jagged pattern appearing to replace the three tomoe. He remembered Hiruzen’s stony face, remembered how none of them had moved to stop Tobirama as he slowly turned and, without looking back, disappeared into the darkness. No matter his words nor his belief that this was his duty, Danzo should have gone after him. Incapacitated the man, if necessary. Fought by his side if all else failed. Maybe then Tobirama would have made it. He always fought harder when there was someone to protect.

But Dabzo hadn’t. He’d stayed put despite all his talk and big words; paralyzed by shock and fear and helplessness; frozen in place for all his ninja training, a horrible feeling of dread pooling in his gut. At the time, he had still thought Tobirama would return, every bit the hero Danzo had always seen him as.

He knew that his greatest flaw was his cowardice. He feared death too much. Even now, as he was trapped by Orochimaru in the hokage tower, all he’d thought about was how to escape, how to survive. Maybe… just maybe it was time for him to fight like a true warrior, fearlessly, as Tobirama had done. He readied himself…

It was then that there was a crash and an explosion, sounds of a skirmish… and Hiruzen Sarutobi appeared next to his clone, surrounded by his ANBU guard. He was staring Orochimaru down.

“Oh? Look who joined the fight,” the Sannin said with a smirk. “Hello there, sensei.”

Hiruzen’s lips pursed. “Orochimaru.” That one word was enough. Around them, Danzo watched as the Suna and Oto jonin who had been surrounding the room fidgeted nervously, every eye in the room trained upon Hiruzen. Once more, the bastard had stolen his thunder.

It was reminiscent of their youth. Danzo would accomplish something and Hiruzen would top that the next day, always overshadowing him. It was like Danzo was doomed to stay in the shadows, in his shadow, and he had hated it. But he was no longer as idiotic as his younger self anymore and could admit to himself that he felt rather relieved for the assist. If all eyes were on Hiruzen, they wouldn’t be on him. He glanced at his clone, calculating how long it would last. He’d done the shadow clone jutsu one-handed and whilst in the throes of pain, so needless to say, the resulting clone had been rather subpar… but, provided it wasn’t hit and didn’t use much chakra, it could probably hold out for a while… good.

The hokage’s ANBU had begun fighting the sand and sound jonin stationed around the area. There were too few of them… but they would keep the others busy and if they were lucky, make a ruckus that might attract help, and in any case, keep the other jonin distracted enough to miss his genjutsu. Danzo turned toward Orochimaru again, who was still locked in a stare-down with Hiruzen. Clearly, the sannin had dismissed him as a threat. That would be his downfall. Now, if only Hiruzen could distract the snake long enough… Danzo had made his decision. Even though escape might be in the cards now, even though every instinct was telling him to get out , he did not move. Danzo intended to make good on his promise. Orochimaru’s head would be next.

---

He had won, it began to sink in. Kakashi heard his own ragged breaths mixing with Río’s in the sudden stillness and, feeling empty, he approached the dome and crouched in front of her. She was silent, her head bowed. Kakashi didn’t know what to do with himself. Then, because he was clearly a masochist, he took her mask off her face, revealing her features. They were closed-off. Cold.  

“You, ah, you are a great opponent,” he offered at last, wishing her expression would change. And surprisingly, it did, slackening slightly, as though in defeat.

“The old monkey put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Kakashi blinked, surprised at her quick guess. “Yes,” he replied. He wasn’t supposed to tell her that, but then, he figured it wouldn’t matter once he dealt the finishing blow.

“It’s a bad judgment call,” she muttered spitefully. “As usual.”

“I…” Kakashi sighed. “I don’t necessarily agree with his decision,” he admitted.

Rio’s eyebrows shot up and she gave him a surprised, slightly hopeful look.

Kakashi hated it. It was wrong to kill her. He shouldn’t. He was expecting her to try and convince him now. She’d been good at acting nice and likable the first time they met – certainly she’d try it again. Any sane person would. Right?

She didn’t. She had lowered her head again, eyes closed. Kakashi wondered at that expression. Was this her way of waiting for death? He didn’t want to know.

“Won’t you try to butter me up?” Kakashi found himself stalling. More like: why wouldn’t she? Why wouldn’t she say something convincing to defend herself!? From what Tenzo had told him, he knew that she was a decent person, she didn’t deserve this… c’mon, convince me, he thought angrily.

At his words, her expression changed and now she appeared offended. “Butter you up? What are you talking about?”

So much for that.

“You know,” Kakashi hedged. “What you were doing last time? Turning up the charm?”

She gave him a dark look, which was at least better than the blank one from before. “I what ?” she sounded both nonplussed and offended. “Whatever you’re talking about, I certainly wasn’t ‘buttering you up’. Who do you take me for?”

“…I do admire your pride,” Kakashi said faintly. “Though there’s no way anybody from Root would act that nice without a motive.” Where were this woman’s preservation instincts? Wasn’t that supposed to be her strong point?

“It’s not pride and it’s not a trick either!”

“Sure.”

“I really wasn’t buttering you up or whatever.”

He really wanted to sigh at her.

They were silent. “You know,” Kakashi said after a beat. “You’re a little odd for a Root agent. I thought you guys were all about being emotionless and uptight.”

“I suppose many would say that, yes.”

Kakashi gave her a funny look. “But not you?”

“I’ve tried to change that in those closest to me,” she said after a beat. “To make it less like…” Her gaze turned vacant again. “Never mind.” A minute passed, then two. She still hadn’t said anything.

Meanwhile, Kakashi was getting increasingly frustrated. “Are you seriously not going to say anything else?” How could she keep ignoring him like this? He was about to kill her, damn it!

“What else do you want me to say?” she snapped, her eyes boring into his angrily. “No, I don’t want to get killed! But so what?! It’s not like you’ll freaking care! What else do you want from me? To beg on my knees?” A sly expression crossed her eyes. “Because if that’s the case, then maybe it could be arranged if you release me from the jutsu.”

“That’s not what I was going for.”

“Then why wait?” she said cuttingly, her voice cracking briefly. “Bravo, you’ve captured me. Take a picture! You are talented alright, but I don’t remember you being cruel, you bastard! ”

Kakashi stared at her for a few seconds, completely floored.

“Remember me?” he repeated slowly. What? She felt it too? That familiarity?

Once again, he discovered that Río was looking at the floor, eyes closed. Why wouldn’t she meet his eyes, damn it? 

“What do you mean ‘remember me’?” he repeated again. She still didn’t answer.

“Wait…” Kakashi suddenly had an idea to make her talk. “Have you been… spying on me?”

That made her react. “ What ? No!”

“Convincing.”

Rio’s mouth opened and closed as she stared at him, face flushed with outrage. “Do you truly think I don’t have better things to do with my time than hide behind bushes and follow you around?”

“Hmm.”

“Well I don’t!” she snapped loudly. “I don’t care if the thought appeals to your male ego or whatever or if you’re somehow that self-absolved now–”

“Then how do you ‘remember me’?” Kakashi cut her off.

Río glared at him so hard that he was certain if looks could kill he’d be in trouble. Now he was really curious.

“You know, my spying theory seems more likely by the second.” He added cajolingly.

“Your spying theory can go to hell.”

“Well, look at it this way,” Kakashi said. “You act all nice to me, which would make sense if you were trying to butter me up–”

“I don’t do that!”

“Yet then you claim that that’s not what you were doing. However, you also mysteriously ‘remember me’, but you refuse to say from what. Well,” he concluded, tapping his chin. “Either you’re spying on me for some nefarious purpose I cannot as of yet discern, or…”

“Or what,” she practically snarled.

“Hm. Or you’re my fangirl.”

There was a second where Rio stared at him with a completely gobsmacked expression.

“Ex… excuse me?!”

If the situation hadn’t been what it was, Kakashi would’ve patted her head and shushed her.

“Your fangirl? What the hell is your problem!” she exclaimed hotly. “Are you a narcissist? Are you on drugs? Why the hell are you just standing there chattering at me about being your fangirl?”

“Then tell me how you know me,” Kakashi proposed agreeably, though inwardly getting more and more pissed. “Ne?”

Taking in a deep breath, Río stared at him fixedly for a long period of time, nostrils flaring. Kakashi was almost starting to wonder if she’d somehow managed to make a substitution of herself and he hadn’t noticed when she spoke again.

“Fine.”

Fine? She’d actually tell him?

“Ma, thought you’d never agree.” He leaned in with interest. 

She shot him an exasperated look. And then, completely out of nowhere, her earthen prison cracked open, like a perfectly cut avocado splitting at the middle. And she was free. Kakashi jumped back wide-eyed, but it was too late, as Río had already drawn a kunai and in one swift leap pinned him to the floor. 

He could feel its hilt brushing his jugular.

Though outwardly calm, Kakashi almost froze when, upon looking around, he noticed that the tags around the area… the tags keeping her abilities at bay were completely soggy and ruined . With water. But how? When?

“Eyes on me, Kakashi,” Río said, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, clearly enjoying their reversed positions.

Kakashi was meanwhile cursing his own distraction. What now? Would she kill him? Oh, why on Earth had he told Gai to leave? Shit, this was bad. Idiot Kakashi! Idiot!

“So, care to tell me how you managed to break out?” he asked, stalling for time.

Río was still looking at him like the cat that caught the canary. “Well, I suppose you could say it was largely because my summons aren’t as useless as Pakkun seems to think. Nor are they water rats .”

“Er…sorry?”

“You’re forgiven. They are a rare species of mole-beavers,” she continued smugly, “characterized for being able to cut not only through wood, but also earth. Meaning: after I finished moisturizing the hell out of those tags, I mentally reached out to Ritsu and guided him underground ‘til he was below me, perfectly positioned to dig me free of your jutsu.” At Kakashi’s gobsmacked expression, she added cheekily: “Did you really think I’d lay down to die without a fight?”

Kakashi frowned. She had been planning that the entire time ? It made sense now, in hindsight. Her distraction, the way she’d closed her eyes and stared at the ground… damn. He’d been had. How much had she lied about? Did she really think he was familiar or had she just made that part up? Had it all just been in his head after all?

“No, it wasn’t.” He jerked, realizing that she could now read his thoughts again. Río leveled him with a serious look. “I wasn’t just stalling for time, Kakashi. I genuinely thought you would kill me, even as I formulated my plan. I thought that was it.” She paused, her gaze becoming reserved. “And I know it wasn’t intentional… but your hesitancy to kill me was what saved me, in the end. Even if you didn’t plan for my escape, you gave me the time to carry it out. So thank you.”

“But who are you, Río?” Kakashi pressed. “How do you know me? How do you know Pakkun? How –?”

Her lips quirked. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Would I be asking if I did?!”

“I guess even geniuses have their off days, huh?” She poked him in the ribs. “I was Yugao, you moron.”

And with that, Río removed the kunai from his throat, gave him a wave, and puffed away. Yugao puffed away. What the bloody fuck.

“Wait!” Kakashi exclaimed, but she was already gone. He stood up shakily, still completely gobsmacked, mind blanker than an empty notepad. Her body-warmth was slowly fading, his mind reeling. She was Yugao? Río was Yugao? She’d been Yugao all along…? Holly shit. Holly shit. Holly fucking shit.

To put it plainly, Kakashi was completely and utterly floored.

Also – he pinched his nose and breathed in deeply, her smell still lingering. His genin were right. Something had to be wrong with him if he could get turned on in that situation.

Yugao, you little shit!

Notes:

well... here we are! Río turns out to be Yugao the Impostor, kakashi's boner has terrible timing (I mean lets be honest, when does Kakashi ever have good timing?), sakura gets to be a bamf, iruka's life is in danger... and... tobirama appears yet again!
I think my obsession with this character is pretty apparent by now lol
Anyway, I hope you guys liked the tobirama-danzo-hiruzen scene (and kagami's first appearance (yes, he will be mentioned more later on)). It's actually somewhat taken from the original scene in the anime, but I added my own twist to it. Like Hiruzen's reflection about tobirama's funeral, this wasn't a pre-planned thing, but I'm really happy with how it came out! :)
Oh, also...! Hiashi gets character development! Bet you hadn't seen that one coming, huh? But he is one of the characters whose past will be delved into in this arc. To see the master list i made of all the characters getting development, feel free to check out my tumblr where i posted it.

 

Chapter 26: The Academy Takeover

Summary:

Recap: Sakura rushes alongside Hinata to the Hyuga compound, thinking that there she may find an adult who knows what to do. Instead, the girls encounter a chaotic mess with screeching Hyuga. Their in-fighting is calmed by a powerful speech, orchestrated by Sakura and delivered by Hinata(!), who encourages the Hyuga to fight in order to protect the hospital, as it contains important health documents on top ranking shinobi, the necessary medicine and facilities to cure the invasion cassualties AND all the patients currently staying there.
The hospital just so happens to be the area where Naruto and Sasuke are at due to a coincidence, as well as Gaara. Naruto faces off against Gaara in order to keep him away from the patients and especially Sasuke, whom Gaara sought to fight. Sasuke and a Naruto clone hide and use the distraction to try and gather other shinobi that might be in the hospital as patients in order to get their help.
Meanwhile, Kakashi is unable to talk himself out of following Hiruzen's order and has the inevitable confrontation with Río, realizing he knows her from somewhere. He manages to trap her and is about to kill her, but stalls long enough for her to escape, revealing she's the fake Yugao.

Notes:

Hey folks, here you go. A nice little update. I'd been feeling rather demotivated in regards to this story lately, I've gotten a bunch of flames lately (which is dumb because you guys are always so thougtful to me and I really should just ignore idiots, but their words still sting) and also cause I was stuck wiith the Sakura battle that will take place in comming chapters. Originally I'd be meaning to take the story in one direction, then changed my mind and that left me flailing on what to do, but I finally regained my motivation after comming up with this crazy ass twist Sakura will have to face so now all that's left to do is write it out.

Also, don't be put off if Sakura doesn't appear as much as usual in the first few chapters of the invasion; that has a reason and it's because Sakura's 'story' will tie in directly with Kakashi's but Kakashi will need to do something first before Sakura can get involved, so I need to narrate a bit more of Kakashi's side of things before getting to Sakura. But she's definitely going to have a really badass moment so get ready!

Kakashi stared at the spot his former teammate had just disappeared from. Well… that had been… something . He forcefully shook himself out of his reverie. Río (or should he say, Yugao? Or Inoue? What the hell, she was just as bad as Tenzo) had survived their fight and so had he. That was good. Great, even. Best possible outcome. And yet, all he could think about was that she was Yugao and he had tried to kill her – very nearly succeeded.

One of his precious people. He had liked Río, yes, but if she had died at his hands… well. He’d have regretted it, probably more than he should, but it wouldn’t have been world-ending. But this new revelation was a game changer. Against his better judgement, his Yugao had been someone truly important to him. Where Río had been an enemy he hadn’t wanted to kill, Yugao was his dear former teammate, someone he had suffered alongside, and joked alongside, and perfected the chidori alongside. He remembered how afraid he’d been to use the technique at the beginning of his tenure in ANBU, how he’d avoided it like the plague when teammates were anywhere closeby. Even if they were far enough for it not to be dangerous, he just couldn’t bring himself to use his ace move. Kame had scolded him, citing that Kakashi not using his greatest weapons when things got rough was the height of folly – and yet he simply hadn’t been able to.

But team Kame had understood. Each one of them had tried to help him, but Yugao had perhaps been the one who’d helped most. They had usually ended up as partners when pairs were required and she was the best at dodging. He had felt like him hitting her by accident would be really unlikely, and they’d practiced different scenarios until they’d gotten blue in the face. Yugao had been the one who’d realized that the Chidori’s weak point was the wrist (after many times of dodging a very watered-down version) and they’d worked on eliminating that as well. They had even started working on trying to make it functional without the sharingan drainage, even though Kakashi had told Yugao time and time again that it wasn’t possible, but she had insisted. In the end, their attempts hadn’t panned out, but he had appreciated the effort regardless. She was a good friend. Killing her… no. That would have left scars. The thought that he might not even have found out what he’d done was even more chilling.

It would have been Rin all over again.

“Boss?” Pakkun’s voice shook him out of it. “Boss, you’re spacing out.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Kakashi forcefully pushed those thoughts away. The last thing he needed at the moment was a mental breakdown. “Aaa,” he replied faintly.

Pakkun nuzzled his leg, an uncharacteristic display. “Sorry for ruining your kill, boss. Thought we’d corralled them all, those water rats, but we missed one. ‘s on me, they were tricky buggers.”

Kakashi exhaled. Right. Río herself had said she hadn’t expected to survive either… in the end, he completely owed the ‘happy’ ending to his ninkens’ slip up. He smiled faintly. One way or another, the pack never failed him.

“It’s fine, Pakkun. I’m glad that the beaver escaped, actually. I didn’t want to kill her.”

The pug stared at him dubiously. “You… didn’t?”

Kakashi was well aware how strange that sounded. “Maa, it’s a long story.”

Pakkun gave him a look. “You said you’d explain things when the fight was over, boss. Now it is. We’re a team. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Ah, well…” Kakashi said uncomfortably. “Let’s just say… do you remember my old teammate? Yugao?”

Pakkun was now looking at him as if he’d grown another head. “The not Yugao? The one who was a spy and left and you made us look for her every–”

“Yes, that one. Turns out, she was in the village all along. That was her…”

Pakkun did a double take. “That… blondie? What. You must be joking.”

Kakashi shook his head blandly. “I wish I was. But it’s her. I actually can’t believe I didn’t recognize her earlier.”

“But I know Uzuki’s sent!” Pakkun protested. “I woulda recognized her.”

Kakashi sighed. “The last time you saw her she must’ve been fourteen… I think? Smells change a lot during adolescence, Pakkun.” The ninken looked offended, so he quickly added: “not to mention, she’d likely been using some sort of scent-distorter, either now or back then. Or maybe both times…”  Root was infamous for those. He should’ve known Yugao was a member of the foundation all along. It explained her ability to get away from the tracker squads… No one from ANBU had managed to figure out how Root agents could change and conceal their scents so well, even to this day, though in light of recent events, Kakashi was starting to think that the Charca guy was most likely behind that particular invention. Fuinjutsu was one of the only ways to fool a Hatake’s nose, after all, as the smells behind a barrier wouldn’t get through it. Charca must have adapted that… but Kakashi was getting side-tracked again.

“Say, Pakkun, can you pick up Tenzo’s scent?” he questioned, in a rather obvious change of subject. “We are in the middle of an invasion, after all. No time for dilly dallying.” 

The ninken gave him a look. “Want me to locate her too? I’ve learned some tricks from the last time I met her, back when I was a pup.”

Kakashi bit his lip. Pakkun knew him too well… but no. He’d already lost enough time and they were in the middle of an invasion. He might be needed. It was best if he didn’t see Río again any time soon as, currently, he had the perfect excuse for failing his mission but seeing her anew would void it. Their reunion (for he intended to hunt her down one way or another) would have to wait until sandaime-sama had called Kakashi’s mission off or stopped paying attention. 

“No,” Kakashi said. “Don’t look for her…” For now. He stared expressionlessly at a special scroll, one designed to conserve smells. The scroll contained Río’s mask, which she had left behind in her escape. With it, he should be able to find her later on… he hoped. 

Pakkun nodded. “Got it, boss.”

 

---

In another part of the village, Río had just managed to crawl out of a hole, courtesy of her mole-beaver Ritsu, hopefully having escaped Kakashi for good. Gah. That had been some fight. The invasion was only just beginning and she already felt drained…

“Heichou!” She noticed one of her guys sprinting over from across the street and repressed the urge to hide back in her hole. She really felt like crawling in there and dying for a little while. But alas, invasions wait for no one.

“Hi,” she greeted, doing her best impression of nonchalance.

“Hi?” Yann repeated blankly. “That’s all you’re going to say? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Río found it somewhat surprising that he hadn’t managed to locate her when she hadn’t moved from where they’d last seen each other, but assumed Kakashi must’ve done something. His genjutsu skills were no joke and she was privately very relieved that he hadn’t used them on her because then she’d already be a goner. Wait a second. She nearly facepalmed at her own stupidity. Kakashi had known about her weakness for them back when she’d met him as Yugao. So of course now he would be aware of her absolute inability to deal with genjutsu…  How could she have been such an idiot? She’d already managed to escape, so why did she have to run her mouth at the last second? If they met again, now he would be able to trounce her.

Great, Río. How many rookie mistakes are you going to make today?

“Heichou? Are you paying attention?”

“Ah, whoops? Sorry. But more importantly, did you get Sai and Hinata to Sana?”

“Yes,” said Yann. “The antidote was provided and they’re fine now. But where have you been? We waited for over twenty minutes at the northern corner for you.”

Right. Best deflect, and fast.

“Awww, were you worried?” Río exclaimed, making her voice as annoying as possible.

“ Heichou! ”

“No need to be shy, Yann-chan.”

“Heichou!” the poor guy sputtered. “There’s a place and time for this!” 

“But what would life be if one didn’t stop to rejoice in its small pleasures? Mind you, few things are more satisfying than–“

“Heichou, will you please stop deflecting?”

Rio closed her mouth with resignation. “I wasn’t deflecting…”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t. What happened to you, heichou? You look like you’ve been rolling around in a washing machine and then belly-crawling through a trench.”

“Yann. Couldn’t you have phrased that a little more delicately? I’ve been trying to teach you about weird social norms for ages now. Inadvertently insulting people‘s appearance is pretty high up in the don’ts list of society.” 

“Hai, hai. Got it, stick my nose out of it.”

“That’s a good fellow! See, you do learn! Also, can you give me a status report?”

Yann rolled his eyes. Río did a mental fist pump. She privately counted each small display of emotion from the kids as a victory, even if it was a scowl or a rude gesture when pissed off; it was still much better than the alternative. This time, the feeling of success! was quickly replaced with stomach-turning stress, as Yann began to vomit out everything he knew of other Root agents, their current placements, casulaties and the general goings-on of the invasion. Apparently, the poor guy had been running all over the village looking for her (now she really did feel a little guilty), but the upside of that, as a consequence, Yann could give her a quick overview on most of what was happening in the different parts of Konoha. The situation was even worse than she’d feared, but what caught her attention about the report was what wasn’t in it. Admittedly, she had her own reasons for paying special attention to the clan heads, but it didn’t sit well with her that he hadn’t mentioned a single one of them. They should be leading the charge; he should have seen more than one of them.

“What about the clan heads?” she queried cautiously. “Have any of them organized some sort of counter-attack?”

Yann paused. “The… clan heads? Were they supposed to? I just assumed they’d be in a protected location.”

“You mean you haven’t seen any?” Río asked sharply. “Not even the jonin commander – or the head of intelligence?”

“Well – no.”

She inhaled. This… this wasn’t good. She didn’t know much about most of the clan heads, but she had spent a fair amount of time spying on a certain blonde (well, not really spying… she called it ‘coincidental observation’) and knew him well enough at this point to be certain of one thing: he would never crawl into some hole for protection whilst the invasion was raging on outside. Same for the other clan heads, she supposed, especially if they all disappeared at once.

Unless… Danzo was behind this? The old man had been planning on crawling into a hole somewhere, but why would he bother to invite the clan heads along? It made some sense to want to keep them safe, Río supposed, perhaps there was some tactical reasoning behind all this… she definitely wasn’t as good at plotting as Danzo… but she felt like the elder would have probably mentioned a plan like that, if only to keep her from doing something rash to ruin it. No, she felt like something else was afoot here.

“Did Danzo say anything?” She fired her next question, half-hoping there was some obvious explanation to this.

“Danzo-sama?” Yann repeated slowly. “No… I haven’t seen him.” His eyes narrowed. “Why? I thought he’d hid?”

Welp. That was admittedly what the man had told them to expect, but… “Where was he last seen, do you know?”

Yann shook his head. Damn. She needed more information… Was Danzo with the other clan heads or not? She needed to know . Now she wished she’d kept more track of his actions, even though she’d been busy with a patrol… Wait a second. What if Danzo had gone to some last minute meeting? Her eyes widened. Yes, that had to be it! Two of her usual squad mates hadn’t been assigned to her unit that evening, which was often the case when Danzo was attending a meeting… he liked to have those two on his protection detail because of their sensory skills. But what meeting? Was it with the council? Or the judge? With one of the factory owners? One of Konoha’s weapon suppliers? …the War Council?

A chill went down her spine. It couldn’t be, could it? War Council meetings were usually called in advance, and besides, she paid attention to the dates for those… but what if it had been? She started thinking furiously, Yann giving her a bewildered look as she began to pace. All of the clan heads belonged to the War Council. So did Danzo. And the hokage… all of the high-ups in one place. All of the higher ups which were now missing . The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Such a meeting would be the perfect opportunity to spring a trap… it was what she would have done if she were an oto nin. But only the hokage could call those meetings… though Río could think of at least five ways to fake being him off the top of her head. And surely someone like Orochimaru would have been able to as well, especially since he knew the hokage personally. 

She realized only a second later that she’d stopped pacing in order to stare wide-eyed in the direction of the tower. Could she make it? Was her hunch even correct? The tower was very far; if she was wrong, she’d waste time and resources going there. Damn, this was a hard call to make.

“Heichou? What’s wrong?” Yann’s concerned voice snapped her out of it. He was one of the Root guys who knew her best, and she wasn’t even wearing the mask right now. She was proud to say he’d learned enough about body language over the years to be able to read her like a book now.

“Yann, assemble a squad,” she said in a rush. “We’re going to the tower.”

There was an incredulous silence. “The tower , heichou? Are you sure? What for?”

Was she sure? Hell no. Río hesitated, quickly relaying her thoughts on the trap. She needed a second opinion. She was afraid she was being rash, as usual. Maybe that fight with Kakashi had shaken her more than she’d thought – it all depended on what Yann would think. Ultimately, she’d make the final decision, but Yann’s oppinion would definitely factor into it.

“Heichou, are you sure? I mean, I could have just not seen the clan heads,” Yann murmured. “I was running very quickly and looking for you specifically…”

“Yann, you’re an observant guy. You have great memory. You just gave me a very detailed report on everything that was happening, don’t you think you would have registered crossing paths on a clan head?”

“I… I don’t know.” Yann said, sounding torn. “I want to say I would have, but what if… what if… I could have missed something.”

She bit her lip. Yann’s confidence had always been low for someone in Root. She knew his uncertainty likely came from that rather than lacking observational skills.

“But Río-senpai…” The use of her old title made her pay more attention.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you think this is… because of… you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she said exasperatedly.

Yann took a deep breath. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

 “Senpai, I really don’t mean to pry, but… don’t you think you might be… biased? Because of… who your father is?”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know about that?” she exclaimed. 

“Many of us do. At least, those you hang out with most. We’ve all noticed how you spend time looking at the nermal citicens a lot. And it’s okay! We understand. But we noticed that you… took a special interest in the Yamanaka clan… and three members specifically… it wasn’t too hard to put two and to together.”

Río felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. Root looked upon emotional displays with judgemental eyes. Yes, she had been trying to change that and some days she felt like she was making progress, but honestly? Many other days she felt like she was just wasting her time. That many of her kohai would have known about her escapades and said nothing… it meant something .

To be clear, Río didn’t actually remember her family from Before. She had only realized who they were by coincidence. She still remembered the event like it was yesterday: herself, chained to a table, heartbeat frantic as she looked everywhere for an escape, then looking up and seeing him come into the room , and like a jolt of electricity, knowing immediately who he was. Her father. She couldn’t explain how she’d known, whether there had been a breach in her sealed memories from her early childhood or it had just been some sort of stress-induced neurosis, or simply pure instinct, a part of her brain had just clicked. 

And she had been right. The moment she’d returned to Konoha years later, finding him was the first thing she’d done. She had found out his name first: Inoichi Yamanaka, and it had felt right . Then she’d dug deeper and stumbled over the hushed up kidnappiung of his firstborn daughter, dates a perfect match to what she knew of herself and the gut feeling had turned into a conviction.

She had thought she was being discreet in “getting to know” her family, had done so in the only way that she could – by stalking them - but obviously not discreet enough. A part of her had known it, but she hadn't cared. She had wanted to see , to looke, to memorize – the sound of their laughter, the timbre of their voice - had wanted it so badly. But she had never dared go beyond that, the same way one doesn't touch a flame, no matter how inviting it looks; flames burn. And yet still she had hovered by the fire day in, day out.

One of the first things that had caught her attention about her family was how happy they were, how inherently good. The second was that every second day, her mother would leave the Yamanaka compound at dawn, trekking into the woods close by… Río had been curious and had followed her one day. Maybe she shouldn’t have. She’d discovered her mother bringing flowers to her own grave – her grave – or Inoue’s, she supposed – which was all kinds of fucked up… In fact, the shock had been so overwhelming that she’d forgotten to keep masking her chakra. She, an ANBU Root who had infiltrated almost every prison in Iwa, had made the most basic of mistakes, nearly getting caught by a chunin. By her mother.

What’s more, the woman hadn’t just sensed some presence – she had recognized it, had whispered her name into the dreary silence. How such a thing was possible Río couldn’t fathom, but it had happened. Her mom had freaked out. She remembered listening helplessly to Chihiro’s hysteric sobs as the woman kneeled in front of that grave calling for her child, muttering to herself, debating out loud whether she was going insane or not. A nervous breakdown. 

She had felt so guilty. She remembered every fiber in her being screaming at her to jump down the damn tree and – and do something – anything – she didn’t know what – but what most haunted her was how she… didn’t. Hadn’t. Couldn’t. As much as a part of her may hate Root, it was also everything she knew. It gave her a purpose and a sense of balance, a routine. She knew she was fucked in the head, but at least everyone in Root was like her. She knew that things would just be terrible if she faced her family again. They mourned a pure, innocent girl. That girl was dead. 

She remembered just crouching there, staring at her mother and feeling numb. She didn’t remember returning to headquarters at all, but could recall the derisive look on Kintaro’s face when he’d brushed past her in the hallway. He’d been staring at her cheeks. When she had ran her hand over them, it registered that she must have cried. “Water jutsu,” she had said to him, voice dead. Ha. Water jutsu.

It was stupid to think that the others wouldn’t have known, even though it had been many years since then, even though Río kept to herself sometimes and the guys never bothered her during those off days… it was an unspoken rule. She had thought they'd respected her privacy, but in retrospect, it was naive to think that they wouldn’t have followed her or sent a summon to check on her. She wasn't sure what to feel.

 

“Río-senpai?” Yann’s voice brought her back to reality. She had only unfocused for little less than a second, so the wave of feelings rising up within her could still be sqashed.

She coughed. “Right. Yes.” 

To detour to the Hokage Tower or not to detour, that was the question… knowing that Danzo would probably be safe… the man was very resourceful, after all, but that her father most likely wasn’t. Yann had been asking her whether she might be biased. She searched within herself and knew the answer, knew that her father might be in there. In a trap. She gritted her teeth. 

“Heichou? What do we do?” He had returned to calling her by her proper title. She understood. He would trust her judgement.

She swallowed, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. She'd made her decission.

---

 

Hesitantly, Sakura glanced down the dark hallway. She almost wished Kaori hadn’t left her alone… but no. She couldn’t be selfish. Iruka-sensei’s possible survival was riding on this. And so, resolute in her choice and yet half scared to death, she advanced farther into the building all on her own. 

So far, so good , Sakura tried telling herself. However, her confidence didn’t last for long. She felt her heart drop to her stomach once her limited sensing abilities informed her of an upcoming ambush.

Truth be told, that was a good thing as it gave her an advantage, but Sakura only felt terror. Apparently, two enemy chunin had heard the sounds of the previous fight and were now lying in wait. Luckily, thanks to having sensed them, Sakura had the chance to get the first hit in yet again. She was only beginning to realize now just how crucial that was. It was one thing to hear Iruka-sensei constantly blather on about ‘the importance of the first blow’ and a completely different one to live through it.

Now, thanks to that crucial advantage, one of the two sand chunin died by another kunai at the throat (a part of Sakura wondered distantly just when her aim had gotten that good) before he could even become a threat – but her luck ran out with the second one. In the time it had taken her to throw the kunai at the first guy, the second one had jumped out of his hiding spot. He closed in on her and swiped at her with a serrated dagger. Sakura dodged but he attacked again and so she ducked and weaved around his blows  and he struck again and again, both with the kind of desperation that overrides logic. It suddenly dawned on her that this had turned into a taijutsu spar! Taijutsu, which she was absolutely pants at!

But somehow, Sakura realized with growing (and relieved) surprise, somehow she was managing. She hadn’t been aware she’d improved this much, but boy was she glad for it!

Sakura was certain that if it hadn’t been for Tetsuya’s insane training… let’s be honest, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. As it was, while she was no learns-a-taijutsu-style-in-a-month type of prodigy, she was now used to a certain speed and intensity of attacks much greater than this chunin’s. She was used to fighting on ten fronts at a time when she trained with the little Academy kids, used to practicing up to Tetsuya’s insane standards for hours on end. This, in comparison, was manageable, if infinitely scarier.

Still, Sakura was used to operating under situations of extreme fear (courtesy of Orochimaru) and this one was no different. She dodged all the chunin’s attacks successfully, surprising even herself, and suddenly, it was like all of her teachers’ lectures coalesced into one moment.

Just like Iruka-sensei had always preached, after a bout of dodging, Sakura saw it: an opening. All of her senses honed in on it. ‘Go for it!’ they screamed.

Simultaneously, a part of her brain that was oddly reminiscent of Tetsuya cautioned her: ‘is that really an opening? Or is it a trick?’

Sakura’s eyes instinctively went to her opponent’s and she could tell by the sharpness in them that it was the latter. In that split second she made the decision not to take the opening but instead pretended to, just like she had practiced on some of the Academy kids for shits and giggles. At the last possible second, Sakura dove below the chunin’s guard, shifting her stance into a sweeping kick, which forced the chunin to dodge awkwardly. 

Chunin or no, he had been too confident in his victory, too self-assured that his trick would work, and so his weight distribution was still off from earlier. And then, there, now there was an opening, as Iruka had said, but it was a true opening, one she had made herself, the way Tetsuya had taught her, the way Kakashi had preached would happen by looking underneath the underneath. And then, in the way she had learned by running from Orochimaru, Sakura pounced without hesitation, without second thoughts, and let her training take over.

The chunin went down.

The rest was comparatively easy. Sakura found another enemy nin in the gym, surrounded by sleeping children. Apparently this one had been busy maintaining the building-wide genjutsu, because she didn’t hear Sakura’s approach and was defeated easily with another kunai at the throat.

(Yes, her go-to method was a little gruesome, but it got the job done.)

What Sakura hadn’t been counting on, however, was one last enemy that had apparently left to get something, having now come back to find his partner dead and an entire class of frightened little children waking up.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Sakura used his shock to her advantage and threw yet another kunai at the man’s neck, but unfortunately he deflected, though he was clearly still off balance. More confident in her taijutsu now, Sakura rounded in on him and started her attack in a flurry of movements which, to be honest, were basically just a compounded mess of the kata Tetsuya had beat into her skull but at a frantic pace. The chunin was so stumped by this (apparently not expecting a pink-haired girl in a yukata to be a threat) that Sakura got the best of him before he could truly get serious. She had practiced all of these forms without weapons in her hands, and technically she had known what would happen if she was holding a kunai whilst executing the Tiger’s Claw form… but somehow she was still… a little horrified at the result. Only a little though, because she was still alive and so were the children and, truth be told, Sakura had bigger problems at the moment.

She stared blankly as the chunin dropped dead on the ground. After a moment of feeling like this wasn’t real, like she was in some sort of simulation, she had just killed a man – more than one – had just – had done that – had… – Sakura forcefully shook herself out of her reverie and turned back toward the kids.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked the room at large. She would think about it later; there was no time now.

Right on cue, as if suddenly unmuted, the entire room burst into noisy chaos. Some children began to wail, others to cheer and others yet settled for something somewhere in between. Sakura glanced around helplessly, honestly at a loss on what to do next, when she was suddenly tackled on all sides by them. There were crying kids. Everywhere. Hugging her leg, pawing at her yukata, gripping her hair…

“H-hey!” Sakura gasped. “I’m relieved too, but let me breathe!” 

No one listened. Dimly, she wondered whether, after surviving her fights against the chunin – and had she really just downed five of them? – she’d meet her end at the hands of crying Academy kids. It would be just her luck. But then…

“Oi, leave her alone, you bunch’a morons!” a voice cried out among the many screeching ones. “OIIII! I’ll use my gentle fist if you don’t. step. aside. this. instant!”

Somehow, that actually worked and Sakura could suddenly breathe again. In front of her stood a glaring Hanabi, who had an odd expression on her face: she was breathing hard and her lower lip trembling.

“Uh… Hanabi?” Sakura asked with concern. “Are you al–”

Suddenly, Hanabi’s tough facade dissolved completely, and she promptly exploded into a mess of sobs just like all the others. One second she was standing in front of Sakura and the next she’d jumped her, though thankfully none of the other kids followed. Sakura could only thank her lucky stars for all the dish-carrying she’d been doing lately because the kid was heavy. And, realizing only then how much she’d needed a hug as well, Sakura was soon squeezing the girl back just as desperately.

“Gods, that was scary,” Hanabi whispered in her ear.

Sakura could only hum in agreement and grip harder.  Yes, yes it had been.

“Not – not that I was scared!” Hanabi added in a watery way that wasn’t all that convincing. “B-but… it’s good that you came, B-bubblegum.” She paused, appearing to have collected herself somewhat. “Since… since when did you get so strong, anyway?”

Another voice interrupted them:

“Did you seriously beat all of the bad guys on your own?”

And then, all of a sudden all the little kids began asking her questions in that vein without pause. It almost made her feel claustrophobic again.

Overwhelmed, Sakura set Hanabi back on the ground and was greeted by the stares of the entire class. Trying to pretend it didn’t faze her, she glanced around and attempted to answer. “Well… I beat five of them,” she said slowly. “Do you know if there were any more?”

The children exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“We only saw three,” a little Nara boy offered after a fervent whispered discussion with his peers. “Those two, and one that went to the teacher’s room, I think.”

“And do you know where the other sensei are?” Sakura asked him.

“N-naomi-sensei g-got k-k-killed,” a girl piped up. “They m-made us leave t-the y-yard after that and c-come h-here.”

“I see,” Sakura murmured, lowering her eyes.

From what Hinata had told her, it looked like only one class had come for the camping exercise. Three sensei was the standard protocol for those, which meant that all teachers were accounted for. That was bad. It meant that there wasn’t anyone left who could take charge… Sakura frowned, recalling Iruka-sensei back in the yard. She really hoped he’d be okay.

“We should evacuate then,” she forced herself to speak. “The hokage mountain should be–”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Nara boy interrupted.

“And why not?” Sakura asked briskly, annoyed. She was in a hurry to check on her parents.

“I heard those guys,” he pointed at the downed sound nin, “talking earlier. They said that their buddies were taking over the hokage mountain passages with all the civilians in them.”

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered, eyes wide, not even registering that she’d just sworn in front of a bunch of nine-year-olds.

The hokage mountain had been attacked? But that was the civilian evacuation site! If it got taken over… no. Her mind blanked as a sudden, horrifying thought struck her. 

Mom. Dad. 

Her parents were in there. Oh, shit, shit, shit…

What now?

 

---

 

 

 

“To think I’d be able to fight you again…” said Orochimaru, a dreamy look on his face.

“Hm.” Hiruzen glanced around the room. “You must be happy. It looks like I won’t be leaving so easily.”

Orochimaru smirked. “Ha. Understatement of the century, old man. It would be easier for you to get out of here alive if you had sent your entire ANBU squad to get help… not just the one.”

Hiruzen’s eyes widened.

“Oh, yes, I know about your devious little ploy, sensei. Did you really think I wouldn’t have taken that possibility into account?” Orochimaru laughed. “I hope you picked your least favorite, because the poor little messenger is long dead… you’ll just have to pray that someone else comes knocking.”

And with that, the fight began. Both shinobi leapt forth, each at the other, fingers weaving through seals at speeds unimaginable. Hiruzen finished his seals a beat faster, his ninjutsu turning the tiles in the ground into projectiles which shot toward Orochimaru at deadly speeds. However, the sannin dodged them easily, extending his enlarged tongue-turned snake in turn. The shock of such a disgusting attack took Hiruzen by surprise and the snake-tongue managed to seize his arm and coil around it tightly.

“Ha! Can’t believe I caught you with such a weak technique…” Orochimaru spoke awkwardly, “…but it sucks to get out of, ne, Sarutobi-sensei?” With these words, he leapt at his former teacher, intending to deal a finishing blow, but by the time he’d landed upon him only mud was left.

A mud substitution?! Orochimaru thought. He’d never heard such a thing was possible. Where had the old man even gotten all that mud from?

But there was no time to ponder about logistics, as Hiruzen had reappeared behind him. Orochimaru could barely glimpse his fingers settling into the tiger seal. Uh-oh.

Next second, a gigantic river of mud was flowing down the side of the room, forcing Orochimaru (and all of the Suna and Oto nin) to scramble for cover.

Seriously, where does he keep getting all this mud? Orochimaru thought with bafflement. The brown substance was heavy and viscous, and clearly an element the hokage controlled to perfection. Well, it wasn’t technically an element, but rather the combination of water and earth elementals… but wouldn’t the combination of those two chakra natures create the mokuton? Orochimaru found himself pondering these scientific questions as he dodged a sneak attack initiated by Danzo. Ah, there he was. Apparently the councilman was still feeling rebellious… hmm. It was somewhat odd he hadn’t bled out yet, but no matter. Orochimaru had taken out all of his main weapons, there was little to fear with regards to Danzo. He swiped lazily at the man, who retreated like a scared little bug, and then turned to examine the mud river currently attempting to drown him to death with clinical interest.

Water and earth, huh? What have you been up to, Sarutobi-sensei? Research for later though, he told himself. He was in the middle of a rather important fight… not to mention, if Sarutobi could control mud this well and the entire area was now covered in it, he would likely have the advantage of controlling the scenery.

Ah… smart old man.

But the hokage wasn’t done yet. Parallel to his mud river technique, he began shooting fire out of his mouth like some Uchiha on steroids. He could do two elemental techniques at once? What? Different elemental techniques? Orochimaru felt his brow tick rather enviously. Ah, right… he had almost forgotten his former teacher’s proficiency with every single elemental transformation… a mastery of all elements no one in history had equaled… not even Orochimaru himself, not yet . But using two different elements at once? That was new. Sensei must have been training…

The heat of a barely dodged fire-ball had hardened the mud he’d leapt to, effectively trapping him. Ah… so that was why he’d combined them. Sarutobi-sensei was always so very full of delightful surprises. Huh. Orochimaru was thus forced to think quickly in order to substitute with a lamp that had formerly decorated the ceiling and use a chakra-infused kunai to break the hardened muck around his limbs a split second later, so that he could perch upon the cable the lamp had previously been attached to. He surveyed the ravaged room curiously. How fun . It was all destroyed . Still… for all his sensei’s amazing displays of proficiency… he hadn’t used a single S-ranked jutsu yet.

“Incredible,” Orochimaru commented, staring his teacher down from above, killing intent spiking. “I’ve been grossly… underestimated .”

“Hmp. As easily angered as usual,” Hiruzen retorted, hands once more contorted into the tiger seal, prepared to attack at a moment’s notice. “You were just as competitive as a student.”

“Ah, but a high maintenance pupil is cute, isn’t that right, Sarutobi-sensei?”

Hiruzen just gave him a hateful look.

Orochimaru smirked. “Isn’t it about time we stopped playing around?” He didn’t miss how every single onlooker tensed, most especially those trapped little clan heads. Ah, what fun. Yes, this was much better than fighting his sensei on a highly visible rooftop, as he’d originally planned. He had always wanted him to be humiliated, but this? In front of all the clan heads? It was glorious. “Remember, Sensei… this isn’t an Academy class, so… I don’t think anyone can punish me if I go a little overboard.”

“Hm. You have a point,” Hiruzen conceded. “I suppose sending you to stare at the corner won’t do this time… will it?”

“Ah? Cocky, aren’t you. I won’t go easy on you just because you’re doddering, you know?” Orochimaru warned, licking his lips.

“I look forward to it,” said Hiruzen.

Orochimaru smirked bemusedly. “Then I suppose I will have to bring my A-game for this, ne?”

There was no answer. Hiruzen wasn’t playing around anymore and quickly moved his hands into an array of seals. Immediately, a huge mass of large bunshin shuriken flew toward him, but Orochimaru wasn’t playing around either.

By that point, he had also finished the handsigns for his own technique. Smirking cockily beneath his fringe, he whispered, “impure world reanimation: Edo Tensei .”

The bunshin shuriken flew harmlessly past him as Hiruzen, in his shock, lost control of the technique. For a moment, the hokage froze on the spot, staring wide-eyed at his erstwhile pupil. Behind Orochimaru, three wooden caskets had begun emerging from the trembling floor.

“NO!” Hiruzen exclaimed, forming handsigns again. The earth listened to his command and began to try and suck the caskets into itself – almost had them – but before he could succeed, Orochimaru flicked a shuriken at the cable of the other remaining lamp, which just so happened to be hanging above his head. Hiruzen was forced to dodge, putting a stop to the earth jutsu. All three caskets sprouted from the ground.

Orochimaru’s grin was no longer concealed, every tooth on display. His edo tensei had been fully successful… yes. “Ahh,” he said giddily. “I can see that you recognize my technique… my, my, how come, sensei? So naughty. I wonder what you will do now… you must know that only I can reverse it…”

Hiruzen didn’t look like he was hearing a single word. His eyes were glued behind Orochimaru. Even Danzo was staring, face turned to stone. Orochimaru was amused by the expression on the elder’s face.

Ah, looks like he is having a moment, he thought with a chuckle. A little odd that the man was still alive though… But there were more important matters to attend to.

One last hand-sign and the covers of the three caskets began to slip off. With three resounding clanks, the wooden lids hit the tiled floor, exposing three men within; their shoulders slumped, heads lowered, arms hanging limply at their sides.

The one in the middle was blonde and spiky-haired, with youthful features… ah, a nostalgic sight. The man who had stolen Orochimaru’s rightful place as hokage. He delighted in submitting this particular one to his will.

The other two, however… the thought that he could force these two to submit was even more tantalizing.

On the right coffin stood a brunette with red armor and long hair, his build tall and imposing, his skin olive-colored, sun-kissed still – even in death. Hashirama Senju. The God of Shinobi. His kind face appeared deceptively non-threatening. Orochimaru knew better, of course. This was the founder of Konoha, the first hokage, defeater of Madara, the man who had single-handedly created the infamously huge forest Konoha was hidden in… a legend come alive.

Orochimaru watched his sensei’s horror-struck, deadly pale face with glee, gobbling up the rare sight. “Well, well. Looks like we’re having a little hokage get together, ne, sensei?” he cackled. “Such a shame that by the end of it, all participants will be dead!”

No one replied.

Both Hiruzen and Danzo’s gazes were firmly riveted to the man on the very left – Orochimaru’s personal favorite as well… he almost felt a little bad for reviving the creator of the edo tensei with his own technique, but he had known that this particular man would be the strongest blow to the over-emotional hokage’s moral.

Sarutobi-sensei’s esteemed sensei. How quaint…

He turned to examine him with interest. The occupant of the last coffin was as fair as the previous one had been tanned. Tall and imposing, angular face framed by the iconic happuri guard, lean figure clad in a battered blue armor. Ah, and there were the markings on his cheeks… just like those depicted on the hokage monument, though Orochimaru had never known them to be red… his eyes, too. Interesting. Paired with the white hair, he’d almost felt inclined to guess that the man had albinism…

His gaze settled on the ridiculous fur collar attached to the blue armor, making it look like the man’s hair was a gigantic porcupine. Orochimaru was partial to abundant amounts of hair himself, but he liked it a little… neater.

Bemused, he watched the white-haired shinobi look around drowsily. Tobirama Senju, nidaime hokage… brother of Hashirama Senju. Orochimaru wondered what face he’d make once he realized he’d been revived with his own technique. According to Orochimaru’s research, Tobirama Senju had come up with over three hundred jutsu during the course of the Second Shinobi War alone, maybe more. However, this knowledge was hard to come by as Konoha had attempted to cover up just how essential to the war effort the man had been, largely because enemy nations might have gotten unsavory ideas if they realized that the key to Fire Country's seemingly impossible victory was now gone… And while Orochimaru would have just loved to pick the nidaime’s brain right then, humiliating sensei in front of his sensei came first.

“Ah, Tobirama-san?” he called out gleefully. “Would you be so kind as to set up some fuinjutsu barriers around this room? The strongest you have, if you please. You’re welcome to come back and watch your brother kill your precious student when you’re done.”

 

---

 

Naruto and Sasuke were running like crazy people around the hospital. Or rather, Naruto’s various clones were, as the real one was still facing the Gaara guy.

Gaara, the blonde knew, was stronger. Naruto wasn’t an idiot (or at least not completely), he knew that if Sasuke-teme had freaked out over Gaara’s chakra capacity, it must be for a reason. But what Sasuke didn’t know was that Naruto had a lot more chakra than he looked like. The Pervy Sage had explained it to him: how he had a seal in his tummy that was tied to his chakra core, and that it not only contained the nine-tailed fox bastard, but also absorbed most of Naruto’s chakra as an extra protection. When he was at full capacity, the seal was virtually unbreakable. Every time he used chakra, more of his own chakra would be leaked from the seal in order to enter his pathways, as if he hadn’t wasted chakra at all. This was an advantage, because it made it look like Naruto had a lot less chakra than he actually did, so enemies who were sensors wouldn’t immediately know he was the host of the kyubi or an Uzumaki.

“Yo, Gaara, guess what?” Naruto shouted. “Imma beat you right now!”

Meanwhile, Sasuke was rushing through the hospital and bursting into rooms in which he could sense stronger chakra signatures, trying to find any ninja or even strong civilians available. Unfortunately, it looked like every able-bodied ninja who had been within the hospital had already run off the fray, and he wanted to avoid involving civilians, if possible. That was when he felt a strong chakra signature right above him, a chakra signature that was calm, as though asleep, but definitely seemed to scream ‘shinobi’. 

Sasuke rushed up a flight of stairs toward it, so fast that he tripped and fell on the stairs, but he ignored the pain and kept going. They needed someone strong on their side; there was no way the dobe would last long against Gaara. Naruto’s clones may be with him, but he knew that they could burst if the real Naruto was hit very hard. This would mean Sasuke would be left completely alone and defenseless. No, he couldn’t chance it.

He sprinted the last few meters and crashed into the door of the room the shinobi was at. It was locked. Damn it all. Normally, Sasuke would have been able to break in with the aid of a basic lock-breaking tool, but without sight he would be troubled to find the lock, never mind open it. 

“Screw it,” he muttered, and formed the handsigns for a katon jutsu. Blind or not, a fireball was still a fireball. Next second he heard a loud crash and swearing, presumably the occupant of the room had awakened.

How someone could sleep through the invasion’s commotion, Sasuke didn’t know, but if he had to take a guess, it would be a Nara. At least he'd woken up when his door was broken down.

Sasuke had meant to ask, ‘are you a ninja’ but somehow, what came out was “Are you a Nara?”

The person inside was silent for a moment. “Seriously?” A squeak of bed frame, as though someone had sat up quickly. “How many times do I have to tell you people? My not having hair does not mean I’m not a Nara –! Wait. Who the hell are you? And how the hell did I get here? Is this the hospital?”

“You tell me,” Sasuke snapped. “Now are you a ninja or not?”

“Gueez. Kids these days. Breaking down hospital doors like nobodie's business. Aren’t you that Kakashi’s brat? Uchiha survivor extraordinaire? The one who bailed out of training with that pink-haired girl?”

“Can we do this later,” Sasuke said irritably. Wait. “You’re the guy who helped Sakura and I out?”

“Why are you asking me? Have you seriously forgotten my handsome visage–”

“Because I’m blind, you idiot!” Sasuke hissed. “Can you not see I’m wearing a blindfold?” Then he remembered the genjutsu keyed to a fuinjutsu array Kakashi had added to his blindfold in  order to make it look like he still had eyes when he channeled chakra into it and revised his opinion. At least Kakashi’s invention worked.

“A blind Uchiha?” the guy cackled. “Guess I’m not the only black sheep around, huh sheepy?.”

Sasuke was not amused. "That's Sasuke to you."

"Nara Akiha. Charmed."

Sasuke scoffed. Usually, he would have given the guy a glare and moved on with his life, but unfortunately his life might depend on getting along with this jerk.

“That’s great. Can we get a move on now?”

“What for? I mean… I do believe I’ve just woken up from a coma.”

“Well… tough.”

“Why? What’s going on, anyway?” His voice was tenser. Likely, he had realized something big was going on. Which begged the question: how was he going to explain this to a comma patient?

Notes:

As always, hoping you liked the chapter. This was mostly exposition, setting up what's comming next. And no, this is not the badass moment I was talking about in regards to Sakura, though it is pretty damn awesome. Also, you finally get to see the twist I'd planned for the hokage battle though. And boy, that is going to be SOME battle, especially if more people join the fray. *wink* *wink*
The main idea is that the canon divergence for Orochimaru being able to summon the three hokage instead of just two is that since this time it wasn't fought in a rooftop but rather in the conference room, Orochimaru was able to use the chandelier in order to stop Hiruzen from partially blocking the edo tensei. Also, most of you will know that Kishi originally meant for the 3rd to be the strongest hokage, but later on redconned it. In my story, I'm going to go with the second version. That means, if you want to prefer thinking of it as 'Orochimaru had more time to prepare and perfect the edo tensei jutsu this time around, since the exams were delayed' then go ahead, but the end result will be a much stronger Hashirama, Tobirama (and Minato!!) than they were the first time Orochimaru used the edo tensei. AND!!! Minato will be getting developped!!! Yay for that.

Also, lastly, in case anyone's interested, the other reason why I haven't been writing much for this story is bc I've been hit like lightning by a stroke of inspiration for another fic and I am loving it so much... meaning about 70% my mental energies are devoted to that. I promise I won't discontinue this or anything, I love this fic, but yeah. The sixth shadow is top of my list right now. It's basically the retelling of a dystopic world in which Sakura eventually becomes sixth hokage and how it all gets to that point. The emotions described are much more complex and it's way less happy-lucky-go than this one, more realistic, as far as the Naruto world can be realistic. Itachi won't play such a large role in it, but Kakashi's still the 2nd most important character. (Though my take on him is rather different from this one.) Anyway, if you wanna check it out, go ahead! If not, no problem, I'm just informing you it's there.
That said, I'm signing off. Later!

Chapter 27: Demolition

Summary:

The invasion is now in full swing and our heroes have to fight to make sure they and their loved ones come out of it safely!

Notes:

13k I think 😎
Wrote up the entire Yamanaka scene this morning just so I could publish today, you’re welcome~

 

By the time Kakashi managed to track down his kohai a few minutes later, the poor guy was in a state. He had literally been able to smell Tenzo’s distress from an entire block away.

“Everything okay?” he queried with a frown, making his arrival known. Tenzo, who was in full ANBU regalia turned to look at him.

“Kakashi-senpai!”

“Yo.”

“God, you’re here! I looked everywhere for you!”

“Ah, I’m afraid I don’t quite have deity status yet,” Kakashi replied lightly. Sobering, he added, “Tenzo. Status report.”

Only after saying this did he realize that it was no longer his place. It was frightening how easily he could slip back into the mindset of the cold ANBU he had once been. However, no one questioned his actions. In fact, as if sensing the shift, Tenzo’s back immediately straightened and the aura about him became more focused again.

“I’m going to be blunt since we don’t have time, senpai. Hokage-sama is missing. We can’t find him.”

Kakashi’s eye narrowed. “Inuzuka?”

“None here.”

“I see.” With the invasion happening early, most Inuzuka would still be outside the village, tracking some of the more powerful jonin down. Kakashi lifted his gaze to examine the ANBU squad. His kohai was the captain, he knew that much from ANBU’s grapevine. Besides for him, he recognized Yugao (the real one) and Raido, though the other three agents were foreign to him. Three unknowns… he didn’t like it.

“Senpai,” Tenzo said quickly. “You’ll help?”

“Yes.”

Tenzo’s posture relaxed slightly. “Thank kami.” There was a pause. Following Kakashi’s gaze, Tenzo must have realized what he was thinking and quickly pointed out the agents he wasn’t familiar with. “Those two are Koumari and Risu, both well-rounded fighters, Water and Earth nature respectively. They work very well together. That is Uma. She is mute and communicates through signs. She has strong taijutsu that works well with Raido’s and the ability to spit lava.”

Kakashi nodded, memorizing their profiles quickly. “Got it.” Noticing how standoffish and cold he must be coming off, he tried to make his voice cheery and winked at Tenzo. “Then I’m in your care, captain.”

He wasn’t sure it worked, because Tenzo looked like he would much rather be in Kakashi’s care instead, though he nodded anyway. Turning away, Kakashi ignored the ANBU team’s stares and unhooked his mask. The mask contained a seal that allowed him to regulate what percentage of scents he blocked out. Without it, he was immediately assaulted by the smell of blood, sweat and urine. The tangy, coppery wave of death everywhere was overwhelming, crashing against him like a wall of bricks and springing a wave of flashbacks on him. Kakashi fought to not let it affect him. 

Once he had managed to regain a sense of control, more or less, he inhaled again, tuning out the bad smells and concentrating on the subtler ones. There were plenty. Burning wood, mud, brimstone, metal, various animals… Still, it was no use. For all he tried, Kakashi couldn’t pinpoint the sandaime’s signature scent, even though he was quite familiar with it from his days in ANBU… but there were too many humans. 

He concentrated harder, channeling a frankly dangerous amount of chakra into his nose. It had been a very long time since he’d done this, but there were so many people… damn it. His nostrils were burning, his eyes watering slightly, and yet he still couldn’t pick the scent up. Shit. What was wrong? Kakashi had managed to track people whose scent he was way less familiar with through war zones before. The hokage should have been a piece of cake…

There was only one possible explanation for the scent’s absence: the sandaime must be inside of a strong fuinjutsu barrier. But how to find that barrier? Thinking quickly, he concluded that the best course of action would be to pick up the hokage’s scent from somewhere and then follow the trail till he came across the barrier. Yes. A good place to pick up his scent would be the man’s office, since his bedroom creeped him out.

“We need to go to the hokage tower,” Kakashi informed the team. It was on the other end of the village so they needed to hurry. “I’ll track his scent from there.”

“Yes, sir!” the rest of the squad replied decisively, while Uma signed ‘we are in your care’. Kakashi nodded at them. Right. He was somehow a pseudo-captain now. Oh well. In the distance, the hokage tower loomed.

Unbeknownst to Kakashi, another squad of ANBU was also sprinting toward the tower at breakneck speeds. A squad made up of Root members. At its helm was Rio. Since her mask had been discarded, her face was visible to anyone who looked, bellying her thoughts, which were dark and worried. If she’d had more time, she’d have assembled a squad made up of the teammates she usually worked with, but in her hurry, she had only managed to find Shoma and his two tag-alongs, plus the guy Yann had brought back. She didn’t like Shoma, but he was a strong fighter and she was out of options.

Sai and Hinata were another story. Not only were they both twelve, but they’d just been poisoned half an hour ago. Even if they’d been given the antidote, Río was not comfortable with letting the two come along. However, the five minutes were already up and she hadn’t found anyone else… Not to mention, Shoma had made a comment about her ‘not trusting them with her back’ in front of the kids’ faces and now she had no choice but to let them join. She reassured herself that they were both capable and had support types of skills anyway… At their age, she had hated having her skills underestimated for not being an adult. It would be hypocritical to do that to them now. Still, she couldn’t help but worry about the squad currently sprinting behind her.

Out of all of them, she only trusted Yann implicitly. She was fairly sure Mako wouldn’t move against her either. As for the two kids… in the case of Hinata, he at least seemed to somewhat like her (she hoped), but Sai was a complete mystery. Frankly, she couldn’t get a read on the kid at all, but she knew he had once been deep in Charca’s influence… That only left Shoma – none other than Charca’s former protege.

All in all, out of a team of six, there was only one member she could count on to have her back, then another she could count on not to backstab her… and the other three were what ifs. Great.  She fixed her gaze upon the Hokage Tower, which was a small, red spot in the distance. Looks like it’s my lucky day.

Around that time, Kakashi and the other ANBU ran into Gai, though he suspected that this was not a coincidence.

“My rival!” Gai exclaimed. “Did your mission succeed?”

The other ANBU glanced curiously at the green beast of Konoha as he ran effortlessly alongside them. Kakashi himself was stressed out, but he knew he owed his friend this much at least after dragging him along with him to the Río mission. “The target escaped,” he said, carefully making sure to hide any feelings on the matter. Gai, too, was smart enough not to smile, but he could smell the man’s relief and happiness. It was amazing how perceptive he could be. Kakashi hadn’t said anything, but Gai somehow knew that he hadn’t wanted to succeed…

“I see… is there anything I can do?” the man questioned.

Kakashi thought briefly. “In fact, yes. Come with us.”

The green beast of Konoha lit up, shooting him a  beaming smile. “You can count on me, my rival! I will once more accompany you on this quest of youth!” He ranted for a while posing in front of a beach sunset genjutsu even as they ran. “What seems to be our mission?”

The ANBU were all staring at him.

“The hokage has gone missing,” Tenzo supplied after an awkward pause. “And none of the operatives on the protection detail are replying to their coms.” 

“Right!” Gai said, nodding decisively at Tenzo. “Fret no more, ANBU-shonen! I am certain my rival shall track our leader fast and furiously as the wind upon the cacti of a sand storm!”

“Gai… uh… you coming?” It was only then that Gai realized he and Kakashi were alone. The rest of the ANBU had sped up, leaving them behind.

Gai nodded, increasing his pace to give chase. “In that case, let us take off at the speed of light, my rival!” 

“Have you been watching cartoons, Gai?” Kakashi quipped bemusedly. “Maa… it’s  not nice to steal their one liners.”

Gai gave him a blinding grin. “My rival, watching  cartoons is an excellent idea! I am certain that such wells of youthful energy will make for great sources of inspiration!”

Kakashi snorted, perfectly aware that Gai was pulling his leg, in his own way.  Most people tended to take him at face value; that was their loss. He wasn’t one for sentimentalities, but… just this once…

 “Gai?” The man turned toward him. Kakashi gave him his typical smile. “Thanks.”

They continued running, getting closer and closer to the tower. It was then that the direction of the wind changed, bringing with it a familiar smell… one he was beginning to dub as ‘Root scent-standardisers’ approaching from the south. The presence of a Root squad was a strong indicator that his own choice to visit the tower had been a good call, but simultaneously terrible luck. What if she was on that squad? If he was forced to fight her again, he didn’t know what he’d do… but it was too late to change course.

“Taicho,” Koumari cautioned. “Six incoming chakra signatures from our three. All repressed to low intensity output.”

Tenzo nodded grimly. Repressing chakra took much skill. Only ANBU level shinobi repressed their signatures even outside of stealth missions.

They were all looking in the direction of the Root squad’s presence now, even as they sprinted toward the tower. A second later, the Root agents  became  visible, moving just as quickly as them. Damn it, Kakashi thought, a sinking feeling in his gut. Just how bad could his luck get? She was there.

“ANBU Root!” Yugao identified them immediately. Shit.

“They’re going to the tower too!” Raido exclaimed with alarm, but no one answered.

Kakashi was busy staring at the squad, thankfully still quite a ways off, as he cursed every deity out there. Río was sprinting at their helm, long braid whipping in the wind, face focused. Exposed. He regretted almost immediately not having returned the mask to her (not that he could have) when he felt Tenzo go completely stiff next to him. Gai, as well. They’d both recognized her too. Damn. it. 

Rio’s eyes met his across the distance. What was she thinking? Was she mad at him? Was she coming to get her revenge? A second later he realized that he was still staring. Kakashi forced his eyes away from hers but it was too late, Tenzo had seen the look exchanged. His kohai was now staring at him, eyes wide as saucers, then at her, and back at him, an expression of utter betrayal crossing over his features. Damn. This was not the right time to explain things!

Rio was both pleased and resigned when she spotted Kakashi running toward the tower. Pleased because he was the best tracker in Konoha; if he was there, it meant she was on the right track. Resigned because of course she’d have this kind of luck. She’d managed to avoid him during missions for over a decade and now, today of all days, kept running into him. To make things worse she had an entire squad with her. If Kakashi attacked her again, it would give her added protection, yes, but the probability of avoiding a slaughter was much lower. Either she or Kakashi would die. Who was she kidding? He knew her main weakness now, so she would be the one kicking it. But with teammates on the line, she knew that if she did manage to incapacitate him again… she might be forced to do something she didn’t want to, and he himself would likewise cease pulling punches if he wasn’t alone.

“Is that a woman ?” Riku asked dubiously, squinting in the direction of the Root squad. “Why isn’t she masked?”

The two teams were getting closer and closer to each other both on collision course, their goal the tower. 

“Yes…” Yugao frowned. “I thought Root didn’t have any. Who is she?” She was glancing at Tenzo. Yugao was much too perceptive for her own good, damn her, and had noticed her captain’s shock. On his part, Tenzo didn’t answer, staring fixedly at Rio without looking away.

The rest of the squad had clearly picked up on his unease now too. This was bad…

“Kakashi-senpai?” Yugao then pried, turning toward him. “Do you know?” 

Here he felt Tenzo stare at him as well. “Yes, senpai,” the accusation was clear. “Do you know?”

Kakashi did the mature thing and ignored them. “Focus!” he snapped. “We need to get there before they do!” Unfortunately, the Root team seemed to have had the same idea.

“What are they doing here?” Yann hissed, glancing at the approaching squad intently.  “Why are they headed toward the tower too?”

“Hatake is a tracker,” Shoma observed quietly, slanting Rio a suspicious glance. “Who are we looking for, heichou?”

The entire squad was staring at her. Apparently Yann hadn’t told anybody her reasons for going to the tower… nor had he mentioned her unofficial reasons. Rio gritted her teeth. 

“Heichou?” Hinata pressed. 

“What is our mission, heicho,” Sai added monotonously. “You seem to have forgotten to brief us.”

Rio glanced at her squad, then at Kakashi’s. The ANBU were all staring at her intently… that was bad news. Were they reinforcements hoping to kill her? Shit. If they were, she’d have to fight Kakashi again for sure. With all her being she prayed that they were just there for the same reason as her. 

“Listen to me,” she told the team, “Danzo-sama might be trapped in one of the conference rooms,” – unlikely – “so we must make sure he’s alright. Don’t let the ANBU distract you. Checking the conference rooms is our priority.”

Shoma glanced at the ANBU team calculatingly. “I’ll take care of them.”

“No,” Río but out. “You are not to engage.”

“I can take them,” he insisted coldly. “I will keep them occupied.”

“I said no, Shoma.” 

“Relax, heicho,” he replied arrogantly. “If you’re worried about Hatake, I can take him too. All one has to do is to outlast him.”

“No,” Río snapped. Of all times for a Root to get rebellious–

“Are you scared, heicho?”

She glared at him. The provocation was obvious. Shoma was a fool if he thought he could take Kakashi… but if he initiated combat, that would force all of them to fight. He had to know this. But she knew she could only thank herself for Shoma’s idiotic behavior. This, she suspected, was an attempt to prove himself by defeating Kakashi. Many in Root felt that way. And it was her fault as the man had acquired something of a reputation in the foundation over the years… and Rio’s continuous insistence on avoiding him like the plague had only added fuel to the fire. Admittedly, that hadn’t been the smartest course of action, but she had never been good at subtlety. Every agent had noticed her avoidance of Kakashi and drawn conclusions, namely that she was afraid to death of the Copy Nin.

Since Rio was Root Commander, her ‘fearing’ Kakashi had garnered him the immediate regard and interest of every single shadow agent who had by some miracle missed the infamous Copycat of Konoha, even the ones that didn’t like Rio. The problem with that was that the cockier Root agents had apparently decided in all their wisdom that ‘defeating’ Kakashi in some shape or form would be a fantastic way to prove their mettle. It had been annoying when a few overconfident teenage Roots had broken into his flat as a test of courage. Shoma using him to challenge her in the middle of the fucking invasion was on a whole other league.

“I am not scared,” Rio enunciated slowly, losing the last shred of her patience. They were nearly within hearing distance of the ANBU. “But right now, I am telling you to follow your orders, subordinate . And those orders are to avoid. combat.”

Shoma glared at her but didn’t object again.

“Taicho?” Raido questioned urgently. “Do we engage?”

“No,” Kakashi snapped, interrupting whatever Tenzo may have said. “We’re going to the hokage office for sandaime’s scent and then leaving. Don’t engage!” The hokage would find out about his order… damn it… but fuck it; he didn’t care. 

The rest of the squad glanced at Tenzo for confirmation. His kohai looked at him. Voice icy, he agreed: “do as he says.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Tenzo was mad at him, really mad at him.

Almost simultaneously, both squads went silent as they approached each other enough for their voices to carry. Fifty paces. Twenty… then ten.

Both teams reached the tower at the exact same time. For a moment, each stopped in their tracks, every ANBU scrutinizing those in front of them with sharp focus. Then, almost as one, and to all of their collective surprises, each team put in a burst of speed, going into the exact same evasive maneuver in order to pass the other team by. To the confusion of everyone, nobody attacked.

A second later they’d both entered the tower, each going their own way.

---

Ino waited with baited breath outside of the Nara’s living room. For the better part of an hour, her mother had been calling various people inside, asking them different questions as she tried to discern whether they were the poisoner or not… but that was the thing. Ino knew her mother wasn’t able to use the Yamanaka clan jutsu. Whilst the clan techniques were not a kekkei genkai, the Yamanaka did have certain biological qualities – especially a different wiring in their brains – which had been attained over countless generations of careful breeding, that made the use of their jutsu easier and less dangerous to them.

A non-Yamanaka might be able to pull their memory jutsu off if they had enough natural talent and good teachers (some Uchiha had been known to have copied them before) but generally learning the Yamanaka techniques was off limits for those not born into the clan, especially the more complex ones that only the main-branch members and those with special talent could learn, such as the mind-walking technique. And her mother was no different. Ino knew that Chihiro was talented and smart, but the Yamanaka mind-reading jutsu, at least the more complex mental immersion techniques, eluded her. This is why Ino had been rather floored when her mother declared she would use such a technique to find who the poisoner was and get the antidote out of them. Her mother had no clue how to use such a technique, and yet Ino was able to eavesdrop on her pretending to for almost an hour. It would go like this: she would call someone into the room and then proceed to place her hand on their head as she asked them some questions, generally covering topics such as what the person had done on the days leading up to the Yamanaka party, what their knowledge of poisons was, how they had gotten their invite, whether they may have any ill will toward Konoha or the Yamanaka, whether they may have any family members who might, etc.

Her mother could be scary when she wanted to be, but this was the scariest Ino had ever seen her at. She didn’t do anything that might be labeled as aggressive – on the contrary, she stayed completely calm and collected, carrying out her interrogation with utmost eloquence and thoughtfulness, yet briskly as well. Ino now understood, more than ever, why Yoshino-san often called her mother ‘the ice queen’ as a joke. It was like nothing could face her. Some of the questions Chihiro asked, Ino knew that she absolutely had to know the answers to, but asked anyway, others were questions that had little bearing at present and had to be there as a distraction… others were blunt, sometimes very rude and invasive questions which her mother had to know completely threw all decorum out of the window and which Ino suspected were meant to make people nervous, to put them off their game… but what surprised her most was that her mother, completely serious and yet collected still, would at times call perfectly respectable people out on lying.

It seemed like she was doing it completely at random, and yet – she always seemed to hit the nail on the dot with her accusations. Those same perfectly reasonable-sounding folk would oftentimes completely melt under Chihiro’s scrutiny and end up confessing to what they had hidden during the course of the interrogation. Some had omitted having family members who might hold small grudges toward the Yamanaka clan out of fear, others had attempted to make Chihiro believe that their knowledge of toxins was insignificant and yet they turned out to be experts (all whilst profusely wailing that they weren’t the poisoners) and in one memorable occasion, a woman confessed to having taken advantage of the chaos earlier to steal a lot of the expensive china that had been on display, but she really hadn’t been the one to poison people, I swear, Chihiro-san!

And then her mother would reply with things like ‘yes, I know you weren’t the poisoner’ or, ‘you are no longer lying to me, so you may go’ as if she were some omniscient being and Ino was left completely in shock. Given, her mother had made the whole show of placing her palm upon people’s foreheads as she questioned them, but Ino knew for a fact that she didn’t know any of the Yamanaka mind-walking techniques, so it was definitely just there for the intimidation factor, to make people believe that she could read their minds. But even so, some had still tried to lie and been incredibly convincing, so how had her mother known?

Yes, Chihiro had always seemed to have paranormal powers to guess when Ino had done something she shouldn’t, even when she wasn’t even there, but Ino had kind of assumed that that was just a mom thing. But now? This interrogation was definitely not the norm, even she could tell that much. It would have taken her father forever to comb through everybody’s innermost thoughts with his mind-walking technique, most likely days, as it took a lot of chakra and will power, and here her mother was, apparently completely winging it, and still appearing to somehow just know whenever someone was lying.

Finally, Chihiro interviewed one man who appeared a little shifty, a little nervous even to the eavesdropping Ino, and once again her mother called him out on his act and the man was forced to confess the truth: he knew how to cure the poison, but he kept insisting that he wasn’t the poisoner either. He had recognized it from a mission close to Otogakure and had taken the time to ask his medic friend to come up with a cure for him, as he was going to have to go back to that area soon. To Ino it sounded like he was just pulling shit out of his ass – this must be the poisoner.

“You are not the poisoner, you say?” Chihiro asked in a measured tone.

“No, by kami! I swear I’m not!”

“Then you must be in league with Oto and Suna, or you would have informed me there was a cure.”

“I… I’m not! I promise! I was just afraid you would think I was the traitor if I told you I knew which poison it was!”

“Ah, so you are a coward then,” Chihiro said derisively.

“Just put yourself in my shoes, woman!” the man cried desperately. “You’re not even a Yamanaka by blood! You’re probably just making your supposed mind-reading jutsu up! I don’t feel anything but your palm on my head! You would have just said I was the poisoner to score an easy win and then I would have been gone for!”

There was a brief silence. Ino, personally, was enraged at that scum’s words, but her mother’s voice, was, if possible, even calmer than earlier.

“Let me tell you a secret… Kintaro-san… no, I am not using a Yamanaka technique to tell whether you’re lying to me. But rest assured that I am able to read you like an open book, enough for me to know that you are, indeed, as pathetically cowardly as you have just described to me, and not the godforsaken poisoner.” Her voice had been raised enough for those waiting outside of the room to hear, and suddenly the house had gone completely silent: everyone now knew what Kintaro had done. Ino doubted that this had happened by accident. 

“Ch-chiro-san!” the man sputtered, but Ino’s mother did not let her get a word in edgewise.

“That said,” the woman continued, “know that I am planning on making your life hell for withholding this information as long as you have, so you may look forward to that, should you survive this day. And. Right now I want to know everything you know about the cure and of the poison itself, without omissions, as well as helping me to procure the antidote. Should  I find out that you have bailed on me, rest assured: the consequences will be dire.”

Ino listened with baited breath to the man’s stuttered explanation on the antidote. He tried to get himself out of procuring it, citing that the main component needed for its preparation was a rare plant which they would be unable to get in the current circumstances – but Chihiro placidly assured him that the Yamanaka had entire greenhouses filled with Frost Azaleas. However, according to the man, the plant’s sap had to be placed in special machines right upon picking it, in order for the sap to be ‘frozen artificially’ so that its natural properties could be preserved, as in less than a minute of exposure to the air, most of its healing components vanished. Chihiro then drily questioned whether this wouldn’t be the same as administering the sap to the patient right upon picking the plant, to which Kintaro was reluctantly forced to reply in the affirmative. He added that the sap had to be injesed in conjunction with a herbal tincture, but Chihiro, upon hearing what it was, stated that those tinctures weren’t hard to make at all and a non-issue.

Even so, Ino could tell that this information was terrible news. The poison had to have been picked specifically because of how complex and expensive it was to manufacture the antidote. None of those gathered at the Nara’s knew how to operate those machines from the hospital and it would take too long to track down a lab technician in this chaos, not to mention that they would have to drag the lab machines to the greenhouse, as well as carefully harvest very few Frost Azaleas at a time, to then put them inside the machine fast enough that the sap didn’t dry. 

The option mentioned by her mother – ingesting the sap right after the plant was picked –  didn’t sound much better. The Yamanaka greenhouses were quite a ways off from the Nara compound, and for the plant’s sap to be administered right after picking it, they would need to carry all the poisoned people to the greenhouses, which was completely impossible. SO what now? Ino could literally feel her heart rate picking up again. Did this mean Shika was a goner? The sound of chairs creaking and then footsteps toward the room’s main door. Outside, the corridor broke out into murmurs as her mother escorted Kintaro out. She was glad for the Nara’s thin paperwalls because, boy, that information might be able to save Shika’s life… if she did something about it. And she would, because Ino would be damned if she let him die as well. Her shoulders set decisively as she made her choice. She would find some way to carry Shikamaru to her family’s green house and administer the antidote in situ. Yes, that was what she’d do.

---

It took Kakashi almost no time at all to realize that the hokage’s scent was strong within the tower. Too strong. Recent. It was intermingled with sweat and adrenaline… not the type of scent someone had when doing paperwork. That, combined with the fact that Root were there, convinced him that this was the sandaime’s actual location. After that, narrowing it down to the conference room was easy. They found a group of guards standing close to the conference room entrance and disposed of them swiftly and silently.

“He’s in there,” Kakashi murmured, all of them approaching the conference room door with maximum stealth. It was barricaded… damn it. This room could host over a hundred civilians, he remembered – it would be the ideal location to stage a large-scale trap, and just as he’d feared, the door wouldn’t open. Kakashi theorized that some type of fuinjutsu barrier had to be pressing against it… damn it.

Just then, Rio’s squad rounded the corner. The Root team had been repressing their chakra as much as possible, which is why Kakashi hadn’t sensed them earlier. Once again everyone stilled in their tracks, growing tense.

“Don’t get any closer, Root,” Raido spat, somehow managing to keep his voice down in the process.

The Root agents stopped dead in their tracks. Rio was the only one who didn’t obviously reach for a weapon. In the case of the ANBU, Kakashi, Gai and Tenzo were the only ones who didn’t either. The tension rose even more when one of the other Root agents stepped forward.

“Out of the way, ANBU,” the tall Root said threateningly. “We have things to do.”

Quick as a viper, Rio’s hand suddenly flew out and snatched his elbow, holding him in place. She was so mad at Shoma for provoking them that her killing intent momentarily spiked. Paired with the quick movement of her hand every ANBU tensed even further; three of them throwing weapons at her with the intent to kill.

Shit! Rio retracted her killing intent with a start, but it was too late. She could practically feel every member of her squad unsheathing their blades. A second later, the entire hallway was filled with the killing intent of everyone else… for almost everyone, she noted with relief, as the projectiles soared toward her. In the same instant, she used a slightly overpowered water wall jutsu to deflect the weapons, mostly so she could have the chance to turn toward her squad and stare them down.

‘Lower your weapons.’

Five seconds passed, but then Yann complied, then the two kids, until finally every member of the squad had sheathed their blades.

When she was sure they wouldn’t attack, she dispelled the water wall. No matter what, this confrontation couldn’t happen. The fact that Kakashi had neither  attacked nor leaked killing intent gave her hope. She could see Yugao and Kinoa among the agents as well… damn it. The hallway was silent as her water wall splashed harmlessly to the floor. Every muscle of every agent was coiled.

Diffusing the tension might be impossible at this point, but… she would have to take a gamble. Calmly so as to not startle anyone, Río turned toward Shoma, facing away from the ANBU. It was a dangerous move, giving them her back… a sign of trust… she hoped they’d take it as the peace offering it was, not arrogance. “Don’t bother with the door,” she told Shoma faux-dejectedly, attempting to sound like the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened. “There are seals in that room, I can tell.” Her team was looking at her, then at the ANBU team. Most likely they thought she was crazy. The ANBU team was also staring.

“What,” Shoma said blankly.

“We won’t be able to enter the room without breaking through the barriers first,” Río added in the same calm voice.

The corridor was silent. Apparently, no one could wrap their heads around her casualness. Good, if they were unbalanced, they weren’t attacking. To her surprise, Kakashi was the one to speak next.

“Can you break it?” he questioned nonchalantly, making everybody stare at him in turn. “The fuinjutsu barrier inside the room?”

He understood what she was trying to do… he wasn’t trying to kill her again. Rio exhaled shakily and focused on her chakra probe. She’d had it swirling around for a while already, but to no avail. “No. My chakra can’t get through… the tags seem to be behind another barrier.”

By now everyone was staring at them. “Can you dismantle the barrier?” she shot back, glancing at the other ANBU as well. If none of them could, they would be in trouble, because her team certainly wouldn’t be able to

“Maybe,” Kakashi replied. “I would need to see the fuinjutsu arrays though… to know what we’re dealing with…”

“…but we can’t go in there,” Tenzo finished, seemingly also catching on. “So how? The arrays are inside. You need to see them but we can’t go in.” Everybody stared at Tenzo with perturbed expressions. 

Privately, Río refrained from sighing. So far so good… the situation seemed at least partially diffused.

Stepping forward slowly, she said, “You need to take a look at the tags, right?” Kakashi nodded. “I think I can help with that.”

“Don’t listen to her; she’s lying,” one of the ANBU interjected.

“Yes. This is clearly a trap,” agreed another. “Everybody knows those Root don’t give a fuck about hokage-sama.”

“We’re not here for your pathetic leader,” Shoma hissed. Río’s hand returned to clamp around  his elbow, though thankfully no one tried to kill her this time.

“Danzo-sama and the clan heads might be inside,” she interrupted pointedly. “We’re here for that.”

All ANBU tensed. “What do you mean, all the clan heads?” Kakashi asked slowly. He appeared to be alarmed… why was he here then, if not for them?

“They’re missing,” Río supplied carefully. “It’s nothing confirmed, but I have a hunch that they might have been called into a fake War Council meeting as a trap.” The ANBU exchanged glances. Clearly, this information was news to them.

Yugao took a step forward. “So… you say you have some method for getting Kakashi-senpai the information he needs to break the seals?” Río nodded. “What is it?”

“Those,” she said simply, nodding toward a vent.

“There’s no way you can use the vents, Root,” Raido interjected derisively. “They are too small for a human to fit in, no matter what freaky technique you use.” He glanced at Sai and Hinata. “Not even they could fit.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Río said mildly as she strode up the wall, toward the vent entrance.

“…the vents have strong protection locks around them,” Tenzo added quietly. Evidently not even he believed she could do it. Río wanted to tut at him. Sure, Kinoue-kun might have never seen her in action, but he really should have known better.

“That won’t be an issue,” she told them, trying for a reassuring smile. This apparently disturbed everyone else. Right… Root agents weren’t supposed to smile. At least, not in ANBU’s mental understanding of them.

“The vents can’t be opened by anyone,” Tenzo emphasized. “They were designed by the nidaime. No key or pin would be able to twist around enough to–”

“Also not an issue,” Rio interrupted. With a quick seal, a small concentration of water appeared on the tip of her finger. The ANBU watched warily as she stuck it into the lock. “The nidaime wouldn’t have made a lock he couldn’t open,” she told them. “You see, water has the fantastic property of molding itself into the shape of its recipient.” In truth, it had taken her forever to figure out how to  do this, but by now she had nidaime-vent lock-picking down to an art form. She made another hand-sign and then there was a click. Río had opened the lock in less than five seconds.

None of the Root agents seemed particularly astonished by the display, though the ANBU were another story. “How… how did she–?”

“Water can do that?”

“Damn, now we’ve got to change every vent in the tower!”

“Don’t bother,” piped up Hinata delightedly. “Heicho can break in anywhere. You’d be wasting your money.”

This affirmation was met with disgruntled silence.

The ANBU watched sullenly  as Río did her thing, but didn’t interfere when she gestured toward two other Root members, giving them some quick orders. The first one proceeded to summon a small stoat. The second one, a black-haired child, had produced some sort of painted paper spiders. The paper spiders wandered into the vent, presumably to set off any traps that might be inside. After a while and some explosions, it was apparently the stoat’s turn to go in.

“How is this useful to Kakashi-senpai?” Yugao cut in, eyeing Río dubiously. “Yes, the animal may get to see the seals, but it can’t very well draw us a picture for senpai, now can it?”

“I can link their minds,” replied Río point blank.

“…what?” Yugao said faintly.

“If he’s amenable I mean,” she added quickly, turning toward Kakashi. Everyone stared at her. “I can make it so you see out of the stoat’s eyes,” she tacked on. 

Like the audience at a tennis match, they all now turned to look at Kakashi. 

Kakashi noticed that most of his ANBU comrades seemed to have mixed feelings about the vent plan, but none spoke out against the idea. The Root agents were of course impossible for him to read, but he doubted they’d be all that thrilled about cooperating with an ANBU either. Still… in the end, it all came down to trust. Trusting Río, specifically. Maybe he shouldn’t trust someone he’d just had a death fight with. Well, not maybe – definitely not. His logic was telling him this was dangerous. His instincts were telling him to go for it. In the end, pragmatism won out. If this had been anyone but a former teammate, he wasn’t sure he could have done it, but… he didn’t have any other ideas on how else to see the tags inside the room either.

“Alright,” Kakashi said with practiced nonchalance. “Do your worst then.” His team collectively  flinched. Not the best word choice, he had to admit.

Río nodded slowly. “Alright…” She placed a palm on the stoat’s forehead, then lifted her other hand in his direction. Kakashi nodded his permission and she placed her palm on his forehead as well. It was pretty sweaty… so she was nervous, huh? That knowledge was strangely relieving.

A second later, he felt the oddest sensation, like a jellyfish brushing against him in the water… but it didn’t hurt. This, he surmised, must be the feeling of another mind brushing his. It was a curious feeling.

‘Kakashi. Can you hear me?’

“Yes,” he found himself saying. Everybody jumped.

‘You can just think it… like reading a book silently.’

“Right.” ‘I mean… right.’ They were all staring at him with wide eyes.

He could literally feel Río’s mirth, even though her face was still serious. ‘Alright… well… I know you probably don’t want to, but you’re going to have to sacrifice your own sight for this.’

“What?” he burst out with alarm. Again, everybody jumped. Oh, right. ‘I mean,’ he thought with annoyance, ‘what?’

‘It’s a temporary thing,’ Rio added hurriedly.

‘You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?’

She gave him a mental eye-roll. ‘I thought it was obvious. But sorry.’

‘I guess I forgive you.’

Exasperation and nostalgia… She didn’t say anything, but two feelings had come from her, he was sure.

‘I’m tying your minds together, alright?’ Río interrupted, apparently uncomfortable he’d caught that. It was an interesting way to turn the tables. Still, they had bigger fish to fry right then.

Kakashi took a deep breath. ‘Give me a sec.’ He attempted to prepare himself mentally. Being in the mind of an animal… he really hoped Río knew what she was doing. Getting stuck in there forever would be awkward. A sudden image of himself completing missions as a stoat struck him. Not pleasant… He felt her laugh mentally.

‘It’s not funny,’ he groused in her direction.

‘No, I mean, I know.’ She definitely thought it was funny. ‘It’s just, that mental image… of you as a stoat with a mask, I can’t…’

‘Hilarious, I’m sure.’

‘If it makes you feel better, you won’t have to control its body or anything,’ Río told him. ‘You’ll be like a passenger.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s better or worse,’ Kakashi admitted. Curious, he concentrated on the jellyfish feeling and found he could actually glean some of what Río was thinking now. Apparently, the link was like an open channel. He honed on the feeling of worry. From what he could glean, she was not accustomed to performing the mind possession technique and had never used it to link a third party with an animal.

‘Oh, boy,’ Kakashi thought with a sinking feeling. She had never done this before? With his luck, he’d be stuck watching the stoat’s life from afar forever.

‘Calm down,’ Río snapped. Yes, definitely nervous.

‘I feel like you being calm right now is more important,’ he thought dryly.

‘Right. Well… I’ll be with you the entire time. If anything goes wrong, I can fix it.’

‘That’s reassuring.’

‘Kakashi…’

‘Just do it.’

 

Thankfully, the stoat possession went relatively well. Just as Río had said, the animal had retained its own faculties and Kakashi simply looked on from its eyes. He could feel Río tentatively nudging the stoat along, telling it where to go according to what Kakashi needed to look at. All in all, they worked well together. They’d been very lucky and all of the seals for the fuinjutsu barrier were visible from the various vent-exits. What was actually happening inside the room left them both cold however. Minato-sensei – right there. Kakashi would have believed he was hallucinating if not for the feeling of shock and disbelief he felt coming from Río as well. A more careful observation proved that not only was Minato somehow there but also…

‘Is that Hashirama Senju?’ Kakashi questioned with horror.

‘I… I think it is,’ Río thought back weakly. ‘And that other guy glaring at us…’

‘…looks an awful lot like the nidaime,’ Kakashi completed.

‘We’re screwed, aren’t we?’

‘Pretty much.’ 

It was obvious that the three revived hokage were not fighting on their side. Thankfully, the nidaime didn’t do anything to them other than stare at their vent with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. 

They could also see Danzo, who was missing an eye and sported a disfigured face, a short-haired Orochimaru cackling from the sidelines and Hiruzen in battle-armor, wrapped in an intense match with both Hashirama and Minato. For all his shadow clones, Sarutobi was obviously losing. The clan heads were there as well, all of them trapped in another fuinjutsu barrier, though this one appeared weaker than the large one around the entire conference room.

Around the area stood many Suna and Oto jonin, though a few were down. Kakashi spotted the hokage’s ANBU guard, all of them lying limply on the floor and went cold. Genma had been on that shift. Was he dead? Oh, shit.

‘Kakashi.’

Genma was dead. Not again. They weren’t as close as he and Gai, but… he should have been on that shift. He should have been there when Orochimaru struck–

‘Kakashi, calm down!’ He felt Río’s presence wrap forcefully around his. ‘You’re making Shoma’s summon have a panic attack.’

Kakashi attempted to calm himself but couldn’t stop thinking about Genma.

‘Listen. Can you point your friend out to me?’ Río asked. ‘I might be able to check on him.’

Kakashi weakly told her which one it was and suddenly, Río’s presence became much weaker. Oh, shit. Was she gone? What if she couldn’t come back? What if he was now doomed to stay inside the stoat forever?

‘Kakashi, I said calm down.’

She was back again.

‘I’m sorry if that startled you,’ Río added, her mind soothing. ‘I checked on your friend. Looks like he has a strong poison tolerance. He’s not dead, but almost. The toxin Suna has been using today is a rare one, but… wait, don’t panic! We have the antidote here. Sai and Hinata got some doses earlier.’

He felt both relieved and nervous at once. ‘How long has he got?’

Río’s presence vanished again, though this time it was not as frightening. She came back just as quickly. ‘I told your friend to hold on, that we’re getting him out of there, but he thought he was hallucinating.’ Kakashi snorted. ‘Also he’s a pervert and I’m not going into his head again.’ 

…probably some hot angel chick fantasy.

‘Yep. Sounds like Gemma,’ he thought dryly.

‘In any case…’ Río continued more seriously, ‘I’m no medic. I can’t give you an exact estimate on how long he’s got. I only know him to be alive in the first place is because he still has brain activity, which means he’s not dead.’

‘I’m sensing a but.’

‘Well,’ Rio said hesitantly, ‘he didn’t sound all there. By my estimation he might have ten minutes. Maybe fifteen…’

Shit.

Kakashi felt chilled. Another one of his precious people was about to die. Would this nightmare never end? Once again, the life of someone dear depended on him. Damn it! 

From what he could glean, the first fuinjutsu barrier around the room was incredibly complex; the most intricate he’d ever seen. Not even Jiraiya’s seals could hold a candle to this barrier’s complexity… and he had ten minutes to figure out how to get in or Genma would be dead.

---

They returned to their bodies with low spirits. Blinking at the ceiling, Kakashi noted with relief that he could move normally again, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of horror coursing through him. Their odds were… abysmal. Genma…

A hand on his shoulder shook him out of it. “Kakashi? Are you there?”

He found Gai staring at him, preoccupied face about an inch from his own. Kakashi grunted. “Personal space, Gai.”

The man grinned. Every ANBU seemed to relax. “Yosh! My rival has recovered admirably from his mental excursion.”

“Yes. Now get off.” Kakashi sat up slowly from where his body had crumbled on the floor.

“Senpai… what happened? What’s the situation?” Tenzo questioned urgently, hovering worriedly. “Can you break the barrier?”

Kakashi didn’t know how to answer that. “Just…” he glanced at Río. “Let her brief you. I need to think.” He only had ten minutes after all. He couldn’t waste them. The team seemed to immediately pick up on the fact that something was wrong, really wrong, but they nevertheless followed his order and hesitantly turned to look at Río.

He listened with half an ear as she broke the news of their terrible odds and the revived hokage rather bluntly to them, but Kakashi supposed that was for the best. Ripping the band-aid off quickly. They would need to know what they were facing… if they managed to break in of course. He mentally went through everything he knew about seals, trying to remember anything that might help… but nothing. The seal was ironclad.

“…it seems like the seals around the perimeter are some kind of really strong barrier,” he heard Río finish quietly. “This is just a hunch, but… if nidaime-sama was there, he might have been the one to raise them. Getting in will be…” she didn’t finish. But Kakashi could practically hear what they were all thinking: it would be up to him.

Both the ANBU and Root teams descended into silence as they watched him think. He tried not to let it get to him, tried to come up with a solution, to brainstorm different counter-locks, but… he just couldn’t think of anything.

 

“We should send for reinforcements,” he heard Tenzo mutter quietly. The rest of the agents quickly agreed and a member of each team was sent to get help. Kakashi, meanwhile, was still trying to come up with a way to break the seal.

 

The minutes passed… he still hadn’t come close to the solution. He’d begun to think that none existed… this was most likely the nidaime’s work, after all. They passed the five minute mark with no new developments… Kakashi was getting desperate. This was impossible. There was nothing they could do. He’d never be able to unlock the nidaime’s barrier jutsu, it was simply way beyond his level. Even with fifty years to study, he wasn’t sure whether he could have done it without being able to reach the tags. Genma’s death would be on him. But there needed to be something! Anything.

“Río,” in his desperation he spoke up, reaching out blindly for anything that might help. Every ANBU jolted to stare at him. The Roots appeared quizzical. Oh, fuck. He wasn’t supposed to know her name, was he? Wait, no. He had gone on that hokage and Danzo -sanctioned mission with her… he was in the clear. Even if they didn’t know about that.

Río stepped forward and crouched down, so she was eye level with him. “Yes?”

His mind went back to the fuinjutsu array. “Your technique to break seals… if you don’t mind my asking, how exactly does it work?”

There was a pregnant pause. This was definitely something that he wasn’t supposed to know about, if the baffled chakra of every person in the room save Río was anything to go by, but Kakashi didn’t care. He was desperate… he was trying to cling to anything, anything at all that might work.

Río stared at him. “I have already attempted it to no avail… are you sure knowing of its inner-workings might help you?” She seemed uncertain. Kakashi shrugged helplessly. It might, though he had little hope.

Río’s eyes scanned his face, then she spoke hesitantly: “there isn’t much to it but brute force; in truth I know next to nothing about seals. My jutsu… if you can call it that, simply consists of directing my chakra to attack the physical container. No hand-seals required… but it’s pointless if it can’t get through like now.”

Kakashi frowned. Damn it. Nothing was working. He tossed her words around his head. If only something as crude as brute force would work on Tobirama’s creation… wait. Kakashi sat up straighter. “I have an idea.”

Every agent straightened, all of them leaning in, wordlessly urging him to continue. “It’s…” the more he thought about it, the more insane it sounded. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything; they all appeared so hopeful now. “It’s a little… out there,” Kakashi revealed hesitantly. “You probably won’t want to do it… it’s crazy.”

“Try me,” Río said, looking fired up.

Tenzo shot her a side glance, then nodded steadily. “Senpai, it doesn’t matter. An idea is still better than nothing…”

“Yes, please tell us what it consists of,” another agent added. The rest of them nodded.

Kakashi took a deep breath. “Well…” He began to sketch with his finger upon the debris-covered floor. “This is a rough approximation of what Tobirama’s barrier looks like. In reality all of its obstacles are rolled into one, but if you pried them apart, these would be the main three. First there is the outer layer of the barrier, which is the strongest – mostly because the only way to break it would be by reaching the inner parts of the barrier, which are protected by it. The second layer is even more insidious. This one contains the key to breaking the outer barrier, but as I said, it’s protected from the outside… From what I can tell, here and here–”, he outlined two points opposite of each other in the large square of the inner barrier, “–we can find the two main tags powering the entire structure. Note how they are protected by these two pillars. There’s more, but if my guess is correct, destroying both of these at once would lead to the entire barrier caving into itself… however, this should be impossible due to the strength of the outer layer.”

The others were staring at the rough sketch with glazed eyes… yeah. That had been his reaction as well.

“You said you had an idea,” the rude guy from Root said. “What is it?”

Kakashi scratched his head nervously. “Well… I think there might be something we can do to temporarily weaken the outer barrier enough for it to – sort of glitch? If we’re quick enough…” he eyed Río “your jutsu might be able to take out the tags inside the inner layer while the outer layer is weakened. You would need to teach it to me though, since the barrier has two focal points that need to be taken down simultaneously.”

Shoma’s eyes behind his mask narrowed. “Forget it. We’re not revealing our secrets to you, Copy Nin.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Raido snapped. “We’re in the middle a crisis and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“He’s clearly just making this up to get his hands on her jutsu!” Shoma retorted. “That’s the Copy Nin, for fuck’s sake.”

“Show some respect in how you talk to him,” Tenzo bit out in a low tone.

It almost looked like they were about to devolve into an argument, but then Río’s voice cut through the noise.

“Shoma, stop it. I will teach him my jutsu if that’s what it takes. We can worry about fairness later on.” Her eyes narrowed. “Kakashi, you said that you had an idea to weaken the outer barrier. What is it?”

He frowned. This was what he’d been dreading. He took a deep breath. “Well… this is the part you guys won’t like. Short of the apocalypse happening, there aren’t many things that would be able to weaken the outer barrier even for just a few seconds…”

“Then?” Raido cut in impatiently.

“…I figure a two-thousand ton drop upon it would do it.”

They all stared at him silently. “Er, senpai… what exactly are you suggesting here?” Tenzo asked cautiously.

“Well…” Kakashi said slowly, “the average house weighs around 275 pounds per square foot. A building with over 5000 square feet… let’s say six stories… would be approximately 31500 square feet. If we take our 275 pound average per square foot and multiply that by the total square feet which is 31500… and then divide it… this gives us around 4400000 pounds. If we round it up with the tiling and masonry work, rafters, hidden compartments, etc, we could get around 4600000 pounds… which in tons would equal around… 2090 tons.”

There was a long silence. 

“My eternal rival,” Gai said slowly, “are you – referring to the hokage tower?”

Kakashi had known this was a bad idea. “…yes.”

“You want to bring the entire tower down upon us?!” Raido cried. “But that’s insane, Kakashi!”

“If it works, it works,” Río countered. “This is just some tower. The people inside that room are more important.”

“Some tower?!” Raido spluttered indignantly. “The Hokage Tower is a symbol, Root! Of course you wouldn’t understand, but–”

“–if the Hokage Tower falls,” Yugao cut in, “so too will the moral of our people. We’re talking about a historical building here. It was built by the first and second hokage…”

“So which matters more to you, the building or the actual hokage?” Kakashi found himself asking. He met the eyes of each of his comrades one by one, each stilling. “Listen,” he said quietly. “Genma is in there, dying. He’s been poisoned. He’s still hanging on, but he’s got minutes… maybe seconds to survive. The same goes for everyone else inside. The clan heads. The hokage… more of our ANBU comrades. Believe me, if there was any other way, I would have told you. Maybe there is. But I can’t think of anything. At this point, it’s their lives weighed against the tower. So… choose.”

“Kakashi, this is insane–” Raido began.

“I don’t care at this point!” he found himself hissing. “Listen. Every second we waste arguing is one more second for the poison to kill Genma! If I have to bring down the bloody Hokage  tower to save him, then I will. I would do it for any of you. This is what it means to be a shinobi of Konoha. We care about our people first, then everything else, because the people make up the whole.” He looked around decisively, meeting each of their eyes. “I say we do this. The tower can always be rebuilt – our precious people cannot. Not after we’ve lost them – we have to go for it. If it makes you feel better, I’m taking all responsibility.”

Slowly every agent began to nod. Even Raido appeared convinced.

“Alright, Hatake,” the rude Root guy cut in, “that’s all well and good, but what if the falling six-stories building kills the people you’re so desperately trying to save? We don’t know who’s passed out in there. They won’t be able to dodge the falling debris.”

Shit. He was right. Kakashi hadn’t thought of that.

“Someone needs to use support-type jutsu to keep the tower from falling down on all of us after the barrier’s down,” Río supplied. “We’ve got Kin – er, Tenzo’s mokuton… Kakashi and I could help too, but we’ll have to do the jutsu to destroy the inner layer…”

“We can use shadow clones,” Kakashi said. “That shouldn’t be the issue.” He thought briefly, turning toward the agents he didn’t know. Koumari, Risu and Uma… he struggled to recall what Tenzo had said about them. “Risu.” The man straightened. “You should be able to help keep the building stable with your earth jutsu. Raido, you too.” They both nodded. But who else was there? Together with Tenzo and himself, that would make four people, five if you added Río… still not enough to lift an entire building, less if you considered that they’d need to be in fighting condition… Shit. He turned to the Root agents desperately.

“Can’t any of you use earth jutsu?”

Río frowned. “…no. Sai and Hinata have support skills. Shoma’s nature is wind… and…” She stopped talking, her eyes falling on the last agent. An odd expression had taken over her face. Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. He mustered the agent intently, as if this could reveal to him what the man could do.

He had tanned skin but appeared rather scrawny and shortish… not very imposing. He was sandy-haired and with a wolf’s tail… and wore a mask that was vaguely reminiscent of a crying goat.

“Heichou…” the agent spoke up suddenly, his voice quiet but firm. “He’s here. I can do it.”

Río tensed. “Yann. No. That’s out of the question.”

Kakashi leaned forward. Just what was going on here?

“He could help,” Yann insisted. “He can lift the building on his own. It would mean you guys could save your chakra for the actual battle… You know that.”

Río frowned so hard that her eyebrows nearly touched the bridge of her nose. “This is him we’re talking about,” she said quietly. “I don’t think we should…”

“What are you waiting for?” Yugao interrupted impatiently. “If this guy can help then let him.”

Kakashi noticed Río’s jaw was clenched tightly. “It’s not as simple as that. Yann – don’t.”

“Oh, then what is the problem?” Koumari inquired. “He seems certain that ‘he’ can help.”

“What exactly are you talking about?” Kakashi asked uneasily.

Río frowned, casting another furtive glance at the scrawny Root. “Yann has a… bloodline ability. Long story short, he can use his body as a host for dead people.”

Disbelieving silence.

“A spiritual take-over?” Kakashi repeated with alarm. “That’s possible?”

Yann nodded hastily. “It is. What I’m suggesting here is to let someone take over who could use his jutsu to keep the entire tower stable. That would free the rest of you to do what needs to be done.”

No unnecessary chakra expenditure…? It sounded too good to be true. Kakashi was tempted to immediately take the boy up on his offer – they needed to hurry, he knew – but this choice couldn’t be made lightly. He could tell from Río’s expression that whoever their prospective ‘takeover candidate’ was, they were not to be taken lightly.

“Just who are you talking about?” Tenzo cut in, as if reading Kakashi’s thoughts. “Who is ‘he’?”

Río looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Look, we don’t have much time. You and I met him in Root, Kinoue, but… the rest of you may have heard of him as well. His name was Nara Shibuimaru.” She glanced back toward Tenzo. “Eita-senpai.”

Kakashi frowned, watching Tenzo carefully, but with the ANBU mask his expression was impossible to make out. On his part, he did know who Nara Shibuimaru was, though he’d never heard of that guy being Root. After all, he was a known war hero, one of the tiebreakers relevant to Konoha’s victory… not on Minato-sensei’s fame level, but certainly someone well known. Kakashi had studied about him in the Academy: Shibuimaru was responsible for the nidaime tsuchikage’s death in the war, delivering a mighty blow to Iwa… forcing them to pick one of their strongest fighters, Onoki, as a successor for the hat and thereby removing him from the field. Admittedly, Kakashi didn’t remember much else about the Shibuimaru guy, but hell. He was a Nara. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

He was surprised when Yugao of all people spoke up grimly. “That man… yes. I can see now what she means. My father worked in intelligence… he told me that Nara got captured by Iwa and that it was in this situation that he killed the tsuchikage. Intelligence hushed it up, but the truth is that whilst being interrogated, Nara baited the tsuchikage to con him into entering his cell… and once the man had stepped close enough, surged forward and bit through his jugular, tearing clean through the aorta with his teeth. He didn’t stop until the tsuchikage was dead. They say his killing intent was so terrifying that none of the guards dared to go into the cell to help the tsuchikage, nor avenge him once he’d died.

“My father was on that retrieval squad. He told me that Nara wasn’t faced in the least by what he’d done… that it was simple rationale to him. Konoha had wanted him to be a war hero, a symbol, so his methods were hushed up… but they took him off the roster after that.” She glanced at the Root agents. “I suppose he didn’t really retire after all.”

Kakashi felt a chill run down his spine. That guy… definitely didn’t sound sane. But on the other hand… if he could make a difference…

“Eita-senpai can lift the building with his shadows,” Yann supplied quietly. “If I summon him, I can assure you that the tower’s weight won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Yann,” Río cut in. “This is serious. If I die, you may stay trapped within his body till your own death.”

“Then don’t,” said Yann simply, taking off his mask. He handed it to her solemnly. “Don’t die. Here… hold onto this for me.”

Río’s knuckles were white as she took the mask from him.

“I’ll return it to you,” she said, quiet but firm. He nodded back solemnly, then closed his eyes. They all stared at him as he began making handsigns. Kakashi felt a strong pull to stop him, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Genma’s life depended on it.

‘Kakashi,’ Río said inside his head. ‘You have to promise me. If something happens and I don’t make it – promise you won’t kill Yann. Promise you’ll find my father and get him to help. Please. But don’t kill Yann. He’s one of the best people I know. He doesn’t deserve it.’

Her words shook him but in that moment, with their minds linked, he knew she would have honored such a request if it had come from him. He nodded slightly and her body lost some of the tenseness to it. Even so, he hoped to kami that he never would find himself in a situation where he was forced to honor that promise. It sounded as if the Shibuimaru guy was truly someone to watch out for. Had they made a mistake in unleashing him upon the living again?

A few seconds passed in which they held each other’s gazes, then Río said: “Alright! Let me show you the jutsu for the inner barrier. Yann will be busy for a minute or so.”

He nodded grimly. The ten minutes since they’d explored the vent were already over… 

Hang in there, Gemma . We’re coming.

 

 

---

The hokage mountain stretched out before her; ancient, monumental, larger than life. Sakura took a hesitant step forward. She had freed the hostages at the Academy, but this? This was a completely different undertaking. She glanced back at the kids uneasily, then turned to face the mountain again. Her parents were in there. Her parents .

Someone pulled softly on her shirt, prompting her to glance down.

It was Hanabi, who was pressing close to her.

“You’re not… planning on going in there?” She sounded hesitant; a contrast in regards to her usual tone. “Are you?”

Sakura swallowed thickly, but didn’t answer. They were standing at the Academy playground; empty and desolate and  different  from what it had used to be, different from what she remembered of those halcyon days spent there, days of no worries nor stress, where Ino’s latest outfit had been the greatest of her worries. It seemed like only a second had passed since then – but now she was here, in the middle of open combat, with fellow shinobi dying everywhere around her and small chances of making it out on one peace, be it physically or emotionally and those days were a mirage of the past.

“Bubblegum?” For the first time, Hanabi sounded truly afraid. “Are you really…?”

Sakura sighed. 

“Yes. I’m going.”

 

The rest of the kids had gathered around them. Most appeared haunted and scared. The thought of leaving them behind, by themselves, chaffed.

 

“You sure you want to do this?” the little Nara boy asked. “It seems pretty dangerous.”

Awww…  He appeared genuinely worried. They all did.

Sakura crouched down to be at eye level with him.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Shindo.”

She’d remember that. The boy would likely go places some day; he was very sharp. “Well… Shindo. My parents are within the mountain tunnels, trapped and helpless, so I have to go,” Sakura said. “But – thank you for the concern. I mean it.”

Shindo crossed his arms and made a pouty face. If the situation had been different, Sakura might have pinched his cheeks.

But what had become clear was that she could t leave the kids alone. Now that the area was clear… what… maybe she could signal the ANBU? It was worth a shot.

Quickly, she flared her chakra in the ANBU beacon signal Tetsuya had taught her. It hadn’t worked against Orochimaru, but maybe this time… She extended her senses and waited, and then – there it was: somewhere in the distance, a matching flare responded. They’d caught it.

A smile spread over her face.

“Help is on the way.” Little did she know that these were the ANBU reinforcements which team Tenzo had sent for.

 

Sakura came to the resolution of waiting with the kids until the ANBU arrived. Then she’d decide what to do next.

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), a team of agents arrived in record time. The masked man leading them seemed surprised not to find any other ANBU awaiting them, and Sakura momentarily felt mortified. 

“Er,” she began intelligently, trying to catch the captain’s attention. “I’m the one who hailed you here.”

As one entity, the ANBU turned to stare at her. Sakura was mortified but somehow kept her cool.

“How do you know our chakra  sign language?” The captain’s eyes were narrowed to slits.

“Um, well I’m friends with someone from ANBU and he taught it to me in case there was an emergency!” Sakura supplied. 

“That’s against protocol,” another agent said.

“Who was this.” The captain’s voice was cool and monotonous.

Sakura hesitated. She didn’t want to get Tetsuya into trouble… 

“Ah, I don’t know the code name. I… really, can’t we focus on the situation at hand? I’m a Konoha nin, I swear!”

“It’s true!” the kids backed up, their agreement a cacophony of different voices.

At last, the ANBU nodded, though still appearing unconvinced. “I shall believe you for now, but you must tell me this person’s name.”

“I don’t want to get my friend into trouble…”

The man’s killing intent spiked. “You will tell me his name.”

Sakura gulped. “Who said it’s a guy? Could be a woman…”

“His name, girl,” the agent advanced upon her.

“F-fine!” cried Sakura, retreating. “It’s Tetsuya, alright?”

The ANBU’s posture had not eased, becoming even more tense, if possible.

“Surname?”

“I… don’t know.”

The agents exchanged glances.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not! I swear! You can ask Tetsuya, I promise he’ll back me up!”

The man paused, hovering darkly above her. “There is no one called Tetsuya in our corp.”

“I – I thought you guys didn’t know each other’s real names?”

“The code names are for outsiders,” the captain said coldly. 

“Well, you probably missed one! Or maybe he’s an ex-ANBU! He never did outright tell me he was one… I just assumed.”

“And how old is – your friend?”

“Seventeen? Eighteen?”

Once again, the ANBU exchanged glances.

It was creepy, how they seemed to communicate without words or facial expressions.

“It will be looked into,” one said at last. “For now, why did you call us?”

Sakura took a calming breath and got to the task of recapping her current predicament. Shindo was once again asked to repeat what he had said to her about the hokage mountain being taken over, which he did. The rest of the children also chimed in to confirm her story, highlight how evil the bad guys had been and how Sakura’s character shouldn’t be put into question in the face of such heroics. She was really grateful for that; especially as the ANBU didn’t seem to be playing games… 

However, even after being left off the hook (for now), she couldn’t help but wonder: was it really true? Was Tetsuya not an ANBU? She could have  sworn  that he had been a member of the organization at some point. He had to have been, otherwise his insane shinobi skills, his knowledge of ANBU’s chakra SOS manoeuvre or even Tsunade’s genjutsu wouldn’t make sense… and yet the captain had claimed to never have heard of anyone named Tetsuya. She felt doubt begin to brew in her gut.

Of course she wanted to think that her friend hadn’t purposefully mislead her, or if so, that he had to have had a very good reason to do so… Perhaps Ita-kun was an ex-ANBU and the captain simply didn’t know about him. That  had  to be it. And yet the more she thought about the time frame of it all, the more unlikely it seemed. Sakura doubted anyone  her  age would have been allowed into the corp, and a tenure at ANBU was bound to last a few years at least, so… how? She didn’t know Tetsuya’s exact age, but he couldn’t be anything over four or five years older than her, meaning seventeen or eighteen. This meant; in other words, that the ages didn’t add up. 

Suddenly, she recalled something Kakashi had said to her and a new hope blossomed in her gut. It had been seemingly forever ago, that day in the tea shop after she’d bombed the chunin exam test. “I have only ever met another person who would have been capable of answering these questions at your age,” was what he had said… or something along those lines. He had told her that this person, an ANBU captain, had been able to make kunai bounce off each other repeatedly in order to hit a target during combat, not just on paper, the very way sakura had been practicing with her chiheisen. And that was definitely a skill she could see Ita-kun having, even at her age. He was insanely talented, there was no doubt about it. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he really was the person whose technique she’d been copying all this time? Her life was weird enough for it to be the case.

So perhaps Tetsuya was that ANBU Kakashi had talked about so long ago? Actually, that had to be it! After all, she knew that he was Kakashi’s fanboy, that they knew each other somehow… yes. It was perhaps a long shot, but… she needed to ask Kakashi next time she saw him. She nodded to herself resolutely. Yes! That was what she’d do.

---

Río’s jutsu was not nearly as simple as she’d made it out to be, but he wasn’t the Copy Nin in vain. He’d barely managed to discern what exactly she was doing with her chakra when he noticed Yann suddenly slump, the boy’s grey eyes suddenly losing their focus. A moment later, he straightened and stood up as if nothing had happened, but then –

His aura was different, Kakashi realized immediately. How there could be such a marked change when nothing about him appeared to have morphed was a mystery, but still true. Where previously the energy the boy had given off had been relatively calm, controlled, now a maelstrom swirled, sharper than a blade brushing one's neck. 

Kakashi practically felt all their spines straightening in tandem. The scrawny boy had suddenly turned into an apex predator… it was clear that he hadn’t been lying. Before them now stood the tsuchikage’s executioner.

“Well…” Yann spoke suddenly, a slow smirk spreading over his lips. “Would you look at that.”

Río, whose posture was more rigid than a block of brimstone by then, addressed him with a strong voice. “Eita.” Her eyes were narrowed to dangerous slits. “I assume you have heard what you must do.”

Eita’s smile widened. He suddenly seemed much taller… darker, imposing. “Aren’t you rude, number five. Telling your favorite senpai how to do his job.”

“Eita,” Río growled impatiently. “Did you hear or not?”

“Eita- senpai . And if you’re asking whether I had to listen to you all talk in circles around the matter, then yes, I did. You want to destroy our esteemed tower… and I can help with that.”

Sensing he was needed, Kakashi cut in, voice as dangerous as he could make it: “Nara, I don’t like your attitude. Give me any reason to think you won’t be fully accommodating, and your stay with the living will be terminated immediately.” Kakashi fixed him with a deadly gaze, then added a fake smile for added effect. “So… don’t drop the tower on all our heads and we won’t have a problem, ne?”

The boy’s grey eyes fixed on his unblinkingly. “Hatake Kakashi… not a bad speech. I wonder if you’re as rabid as the ANBU rumor mill made you out to be… they’re just as gossipy when dead, did you know?” A slow smile spread over his lips and Kakashi found he couldn’t look away. “They whisper about your father, too… about his disgrace and cowardice… I wonder if the apple has fallen far from the tree…”

Kakashi was this close from lunging at him, teeth grit so hard that his jaw hurt.

‘Don’t,’ Río snapped, breaking his trance. ‘Don’t listen to him, Kakashi. This is fun for him. Just ignore him.’ She stepped forward, grabbing Yann by the armor plate to shout in his face. “Listen, senpai , you can mess with other dead people all you want on your own time, but right now, we need you to hold up the damn building! You care about Danzo, don’t you?”

The grey eyes narrowed and his hand rose. Río let go of his armor like it was on fire – though he simply wiped a stray bit of spittle from his face.

“Danzo?” Shibuimaru repeated slowly. “No. I have to say I don’t give a hoot about that man. But luckily for you, there is someone I wish to kill inside that room.” Shibuimaru lazily curled one hand into the tiger seal. “So I will help.”

Kakashi glanced questioningly at Río but she wasn’t taking her eyes off the Nara.

“Now then…” the man cooed, “…let’s tear the tower to shreds .” Suddenly, white lines began to spread out from right below his eyes, as if they were an extension of the man’s sclera. They looked ghastly upon the tanned skin, spreading further down and down like a spider’s web.

Kakashi stared at them with shock. Senjutsu…? This guy…

A second later, Shibuimaru slammed his palms on the ground. The entire tower began to tremble. Out of all sides, pillars of shadow surged forth, detaching from the ground and flying upward, growing like a tumor, like a spider’s web, spreading forth, drilling through the ceiling… and under their might, the Hokage Tower began to collapse.

In the middle of the chaos, Kakashi met Río’s eyes. They both nodded at each other, crouching into position, concealing their chakra until the time was right, waiting, watching – and then the barrier glitched. 

Kakashi hadn’t had any chance to practice Rio’s sealing tag-soaking jutsu, but thankfully instinct and experience, as well as her example from next to him, were enough. The outer layer was glitching, just as he’d predicted, which in turn made it possible for their water chakra to reach the seals hidden within the inner layer. But even with a perfect form, Rio’s technique was hard to execute: it required a brusque transition of spiritual energy infused with water chakra into physical energy, also infused with a strong concentration of water chakra, all of this with an additional pinch of neutral chakra mixed in so that the chakra could stick to the sealing tag, and all of this without being able to see the tags themselves.

Even with the entire Hokage Tower dropping on top of it, the nidaime’s barrier behaved like a living creature, trying to hold out, to claw to existence, to regenerate – like a hydra regrowing its head desperately to survive, but failure not a possibility for them, and that barrier never stood a chance.

With a loud crack it broke, glitching past the point of recovery, the two seals Kakashi had guessed were its weak points now soaked through completely… they could finally go inside. Every ANBU, regular or Root, leapt into the conference Room as one entity, one being, a single mind united under a single purpose. 

The Battle of the Tower could finally begin.

 

Notes:

So… we get Root and ANBU working together (!), Ino’s Mom being a bamf, and Itachi’s lies are starting to unveil in the eyes of Sakura. DUN DUN DUN

Also, I’m super happy because someone recommended my story on Reddit (!!) that’s like a dream come true, since I often use Reddit for fic recs. I never thought I’d see the day where something I’d written would get recommended, and though there were only 10 comments total, some of those commenting did seem to know about MTE already… which was the weirdest feeling ever! But great. I can now die happily!

(If the person who made the post is reading this, just know you’re my new favorite person right now! Dedicating this chapter to you! )

 

As I explained previous chapter, the brunt of Sakura’s arc will be a little after the middle of the hokage tower fight or so. Ino’s arc just got quick-started and you’ll see more of Sasuke and Naruto soon. As for this chapter, it was mostly ANBU and Root politics (I guess?) and we get the weird Shibuimaru guy introduction. I honestly just came up with him because I couldn’t think of any other way for the two teams to break Tobirama’s barrier jutsu whilst still having enough chakra left for the fight, and he was kind of born bc of that… but of course his character spiralled … and yeah. It’s literally the same story for all my OCs. Yuna was born because I wanted the Itachi Sakura bargaining interaction to be fun & more personal. Akiha was created because I needed a proctor for the exam Kakashi could bounce his thoughts off on. Río was literally born because Danzo was supposed to have a lackey he could discuss his nefarious plots with (now that character really ran away from me) and then the whole “Root has to be more intrincate than what was shown in the anime” idea gave birth to Charca, and now has greatly shaped Shibuimaru. Oh, boy. I’ve come up w the guy’s entire life story already. In fact, I’ve come up with the full life story of every OC mentioned. I’m a disaster.

But anyway. You already knew that, didn’t you? As always, I love reading your take on this hot mess, so drop me a comment and you’ll make me happy, deal?

Chapter 28: The Battle of the Tower

Summary:

The barrier Tobirama has built (upon Orochimaru's orders) around the tower is down, but now the ANBU have to face the three zombified hokage. WIll the temporary truce with Root hold?
Meanwhile, Ino tries to save Shikamaru's life and light is shed into Hiashi's past.

 

For the Oto and Suna nin inside the Conference Room, the sudden apparition of Konoha’s black ops was precluded by an omen of devastation. At first, they had only sensed a curious trembling in the floor, then the ceiling… up to the point where even Orochimaru had become distracted by it. As such, the sannin had momentarily stopped exerting control of his reanimation jutsu. Hiruzen, Hashirama and Minato had paused their fight to stare quizzically at the ceiling. The nidaime, who had remained on the sidelines till that point, suddenly became the focus of the sannin’s attention.

“What is the meaning of this, nidaime?” Orochimaru had hissed. “What is going on?”

“It seems to me that the ceiling is trembling,” Tobirama had retorted tartly, not without shooting Orochimaru a look of utmost distaste.

“Someone is here,” Orochimaru had snapped. “And you knew this!”

“So I did.”

The sannin’s jaw had ticked. “For how long?”

“A good ten to fifteen minutes perhaps.”

“Tell me who!”

“I wouldn’t know. None of their chakra signatures are familiar.”

“Tell me how many, and how strong,” Orochimaru had rephrased angrily.

At this point the nidaime had no longer been able to keep playing it ignorant, but whatever he may have answered was drowned out by the sudden roaring of crumbling stone, and then the sight of the entire building beginning to fall upon their heads. Every occupant of the Conference Room watched, stupefied, as the large barrier encasing them flickered, once, then again more obviously. Then it began to dim at times, to glitch erratically at others – followed by nothing. For an instant, it had seemed like the attack had been repelled – but a second later, with a loud explosion, the entire construct crumbled into itself.

They witnessed ANBU streaming in from all sides whilst debris fell from the ceiling, landing with mighty thumps, the unraveling tower creaking and rumbling over their heads like a ravine. Tendrils of shadow began to surge forth in the agents’ wake, elevating from the ground like mighty pillars of obsidian, proceeding to catch the tower, stopping its descent in its tracks, effectively keeping the entire structure from crumbling upon all their heads.

Impossibly, the barrier was down. The ANBU were inside.

Someone shouted: “dynamic entrance!” and pandemonium broke out.

What followed next was pure, unadulterated chaos. Suna and Oto jonin leapt forth to try to stop the incoming threat, Orochimaru screamed futilely at the nidaime to make another barrier, who informed him with a smirk that this was not possible, Hashirama did a cheerleader gig from the sidelines, shouting encouragements at the ‘animal warriors’, Minato was staring fixedly at one grey-haired ANBU in particular, the clan heads were, for the most part, yelling at the ANBU to break them out so that they could join the fight, though of course no one could hear them–

–and the ANBU were kicking ass.

If the Suna and Oto jonin had taken their time to regroup and calm down, they might have noticed that there were only fourteen of them, however strong they appeared. Alas, they did not, and many of them began to panic. By contrast, what the Konoha forces were quick to realize was that not all of the Suna and Oto jonin were, in fact, jonin. There had been over fifty at the beginning – a daunting number, yes – but realistically quite impossible. It would mean that barely any invading jonin were left to take over the rest of Konoha… which made no sense. In other words, out of the circa fifty Suna and Oto jonin Orochimaru had brought along, around thirty were actually chunin, ten were real jonin and approximately another ten were ANBU level. All in all, still terrible odds, but not as bad as if there had been fifty jonin total.

“LET US DANCE, MY FELLOWS!” Gai cried loudly, leaping toward a group of startled-looking Suna shinobi. The rest of ANBU were more silent but no less decisive in their actions as they began to hack away at the enemy forces. Many of the chunin almost single-handedly revealed themselves by metaphorically shitting their pants.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity fuck!” someone screamed shrilly.

“That’s the Copy Nin! The Copy Nin!” yelled another.

“What’s with the freaky shadows?”

“They broke through the barrier! How?!”

“They’re monsters!”

Monsters or no, the ANBU and Root agents had taken good advantage of their surprise element and were managing to make a large dent in the enemy numbers (by taking out many of the panicking chunin) whilst the jonin attempted to calm them down, to little effect.

Kakashi had taken advantage of the chaos to inject Gemma with the antidote first thing and move him to a secure location. Next, he decided to have a closer look at the barrier the clan heads were trapped in. If they could break them out, then they would have an additional ten or so jonin-level fighters. Its design appeared simpler than the nidaime’s had been, but he couldn’t be sure as the tags were hidden underground in this case – he could see their chakra trace with the sharingan. Their placement underground made sense, as it would be the perfect way to conceal the trap, but logistically it meant that he would now have to dig them up one by one – he couldn’t actually see the tags, just their chakra, which in other words meant he didn’t know which ones were the most important in the array and thus needed to be eliminated first – and digging them all out would take time. Time they didn’t have.

Wait. Río’s summons…

He signaled her across the room and quickly explained the problem once she’d flash-stepped over to him.

“It’s no good,” she said, panting. “My mole-beavers can dig through loose earth and wood, and even compact earth if the soil has a large chakra concentration, like your prison jutsu did… but stone? Without chakra in it?” She shook her head. “Not a chance.”

Damn.

Just then, Orochimaru’s eyes landed on them from across the room.

“It’s them!” he shouted, face dawning in comprehension. “Don’t let those two get close to the barrier!”

Oh boy.

On cue, a dozen jonin launched themselves upon them from across the room and any plans to dig the tags out had to be put on hold as they were both forced to engage in open combat. The sannin turned toward the three resurrected kage, his face now tense. “All of you, kill sensei. Now.”

Hiruzen was sent scrambling back as the three launched a joint attack, though this time the ANBU were there to aid him. It was clear to Hiruzen that the resurrected versions of the kage couldn’t hold a candle to their original selves, especially in regards to their chakra capacity, but this didn’t make them easy opponents by any means. One mistake was all it would take.

---

 

From beyond Orochimaru’s barrier, the clan heads had listened to the exchange between Kakashi and the other ANBU with interest. The tags were buried… Inoichi’s eyes specifically lingered on the other agent’s blond braid, and he and Shikaku exchanged meaningful looks.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Inoichi said. “Now that we know where the tags are, all we’ve got to do is find them and destroy them.”

“It’s not that simple,” Shikaku countered. “But yes… it seems that brute force can weaken the protections around them sometimes… if anything, we should try.”

Inoichi’s eyes narrowed, noticing the tense expression on his friend’s face. He could easily guess what it was owed to. “Shikaku… that jutsu,” his eyes flitted to the shadow pillars briefly. “Isn’t that…?”

Shikaku nodded, expression hard to read. They both glanced at one of the ANBU, a scrawny-looking guy who for all intents and purposes seemed to be the one controlling the shadow pillars, even though he looked nothing like a Nara. “I don’t recognize that boy… but if I didn’t know better, I would say it was… that shadow jutsu… it’s likehis.”

“It can’t be another repeat of Akiha, right?” Inoichi asked nervously.

Shikaku was silent as the grave. “I… I don’t know. I hope to god this is something else, but… those mannerisms, the feel of his shadows… the resemblance to him is – uncanny.””

 

---

 

Meanwhile, Kakashi and Río were trying to no avail to finish off the barrage of attackers keeping them away from the barrier. They both had to take on many opponents at a time, most of them jonin, which were hard odds even for ANBU-level shinobi.

We need to get the clan heads out of there, Kakashi thought, glancing at the barrier again. But how? They won’t let us…

‘Kakashi, I have an idea,’ Río’s voice inside his head momentarily surprised him.

‘What?’

‘Given enough time, I can probably wiggle my water chakra underground to destroy the tags… same way as, er, before… but it’d be much quicker if you were to make a crater or something. Actually that would be needed…’ 

‘It won’t work,’ Kakashi cut in as he kicked a jonin across the room and copied another's earth jutsu. ‘These guys won’t settle for a long chat like I did… you won’t be able to concentrate.’

‘Not if I’m dead.’

He froze. ‘What?’

‘Hey, calm down, I’m just going to pretend someone has mortally injured me in order to buy me some time to destroy the tags in peace’ Rio thought. ‘Isn’t that ingeniously genius? They’ll never see it coming!’

‘Genius?’ Kakashi repeated. ‘More like suicidal! Don’t do that!’

‘Well, you could cover for me and make sure I don’t get trampled on or used as a meat shield or something. I was thinking of using a shadow clone, but if it pops my cover will be blown.’

Great. More work for him. He sighed. ‘I’ll do it.’  But… did she really trust him that much? Kakashi hesitated. ‘Are you sure though? You won’t be able to see what’s going on around you.’

‘I can get a picture from people’s surface thoughts…’ Río hedged, though not very convincingly.

‘And you’ll be able to read people’s thoughts enough to know if you’re being targeted by any one of a dozen and destroy the tags at the same time?’

‘Well… maybe?’

‘That’s it. I am not participating in this.’

‘Hey, no. We need to get them out,’ Río insisted. ‘You know what? If I’m in trouble just think… um… something really loud and weird to catch my attention as a warning in case I’m about to be killed. That should work.’

‘Like what?’ Kakashi asked skeptically. What even was considered weird, by his standards?

‘Um… just think “chocolate muffin”, okay?’

Kakashi frowned dubiously. ‘You sure this will work?’

‘…’

‘Río!’

‘How much time can you buy me?’

‘Three minutes?’

She gave herself a mental shake. ‘Great, let’s do this!’

‘Why do I feel like this will end badly.’ 

Kakashi mentally shook his head at her. He had almost forgotten how insane her teammate’s ideas tended to be, back when they’d been teammates. It was what had made Yugao strong even then, but the crazy schemes had tended to give him heart palpitations every two missions or so. If there had been any doubt in his mind whether Río was really her, his Yugao, then her actions just now had dissipated it. She was the real deal. Unfortunately for his frayed nerves.

 

They ended up going with her crazy plan, somehow (Kakashi still was of the opinion that this was a Bad Idea) but he didn’t have any better ones himself, so he reluctantly created a large crack in the stone floor with an overpowered earth jutsu. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Río use the distraction to plant a henged clone among the mass of attackers. Smart girl. Once the dust had settled a minute later, an ‘Oto jonin’ pierced her with a ‘blade’ through the heart and she crumbled dramatically to the ground. Kakashi would have snorted at the terrible acting if not for the fact that their enemies seemed to buy it. Next second he found himself razing to the other side of the room in order to put some distance between the attacking nin, which had followed him, and the ‘corpse’, making sure to keep an eye on her while he was at it. The plan was on.

---

“Inoue!” Inoichi watched his daughter crumble to the ground desperately. “Inoue!”

“Inoichi,” Shikaku said nervously. The other clan heads were all staring. “Inoichi– calm down.” He didn’t know what else to say. Losing his daughter just after realizing that she wasn’t actually dead… it had to be a hard blow. “We need to focus on getting out of here,” Shikaku continued. “You need to compartmentalize right now.”

“What I need is to get to her! Maybe she’s not dead yet!” Inoichi whirled toward Ibiki, who was still inside of a hole. “How much longer!? We need to get out of here!”

Ibiki’s head emerged a second later. “I got good news and bad news. Which one do you wanna hear first?”

“The bad news,” Shikaku replied, placing a calming hand upon Inoichi’s shoulder. Calming and warning.

“Bad news is the tags are protected so that they can’t be accessed from the inside of the barrier… so we aren’t getting out without help.”

“Fuck!” Inoichi exclaimed.

“What’s the good news?” Shikaku interrupted.

“The good news is… the tags are just kind of… melting? Or getting wet or something? Completely on their own. We’re not doing anything, but… at this pace, we should be free in a few minutes.”

The clan heads exchanged excited glances.

“How is this possible?” Hiashi inquired. “Who is doing this?”

Inoichi’s eyes suddenly widened and he shot toward the side of the barrier, where his supposedly dead daughter lay. “Hiashi! Hiashi get your ass over here!”

---

There was a reason why the Yamanaka clan and the Hyuga had such ill relations. Many years ago, when Hiashi had still been a teenager learning the ropes of the ninja trade, he’d had a very close call in a solo mission. He’d been too confident due to his recent jonin promotion and had underestimated the difficulty his escort mission to Tea Country might present – paying the price with his client’s life and almost his own. He’d managed to finish off the enemy nin and drag himself away from the scene of the battle, across rice paddies and into a small forest to hide from the sweltering sun. By the point he’d reached the shade he could hardly stand anymore and he’d let himself fall to the forest floor, bleeding out slowly as he watched the canopy, guts held them in place by blood-stained, trembling hands. His only hope was that a retrieval squad would be sent after him, but he knew they wouldn’t make it in time. He’d been saying his goodbyes, cursing himself for his folly – when he had met her.

Her name was Chihiro and she’d worked the fields like so many others, non stop, day in and out. He’d known immediately that she was special though – from the way she had noticed his presence, had somehow perceived the genjutsu he’d cast over his injured body, to the way she hadn’t complained at all as she’d hauled his half-delirious ass back to her small house, where she’d proceeded to methodically clean out his injuries and stitch his guts back into place without flinching.

She hadn’t wanted anything in exchange for her help. Just a thank you, she’d told him simply. That’s enough for me. Now sleep.

Chihiro had lived in a run-down house. From what he’d been able to tell, she spent her days alternating between working the fields non-stop and helping her mother with her pottery trade. The middle-aged woman – Aya had been her name – had heavily chastised her daughter for allowing ‘the likes of him’ into their living space. Thankfully for Hiashi, Chihiro had been a stubborn girl through and through and hadn’t listened a bit. She’d hid him in the shed when Aya wasn’t looking.

As his condition had improved, Hiashi had begun accompanying Chihiro to the fields, helping where he could without jostling his injury. He had quickly learned in those trips that the civilian who had saved his life was unique in ways he hadn’t previously noticed. She was quiet but well liked among the other workers, her silences in no way an indication of boredom or disinterested as he’d first thought. 

Despite her unassuming nature, he discovered quickly that she was very passionate also. When he had asked one of the older workers, as a way to make small talk, about the odd terrace-like structures that their field presented, the old man’s countenance had instantly brightened. He had proudly narrated how ‘little Chihiro’ had come up with this method when she was only twelve and how the new, terrace-based irrigation system had made caring for the fields so much easier for them all. Hiashi, aged fifteen at the time, had been incredulous – he’d have expected Chihiro to have mentioned coming up with something like that… If she hadn’t told him it must be because the invention wasn’t really hers. The man must have misunderstood, Chihiro had likely copied the system from elsewhere – after all, the people of her village barely had much of an education and, though she spoke eloquently enough, if you could ignore the accent, Hiashi had doubted someone like her could have come up with such a thing. As a test, he had asked her about her creation one morning. 

The way her eyes had brightened up as she began to explain how it worked had taken him aback. They’d discussed the topic for hours and at length, him mostly listening, not having much to contribute, her working the fields even as she gesticulated, explaining her thought process to him at length under the sweltering summer heat, only stopping to have a drink because her throat was parched from all the talking. She’d even told Hiashi all about her plans to design these tube-like conduits to redirect some of the river into them, presenting a further upgrade, this one much more substantial if she could get everything right. It was like a complex, agriculture-repurposed plumbing system, Hiashi had thought, of which there were none in the countryside. Konoha’s plumbing, created by the nidaime himself, was the most advanced in current existence, to the point where the fire daimiyo himself had demanded to get a piece of it as well. All other cities and villages both within Fire Country and outside had been lagging behind at the time of their meeting. That she should have come up with such a thing on her own…

Hiashi had told her all about Konoha’s plumbing system then, glad to have something to add. Chihiro had listened intently, asking questions which had never occurred to him before. From his answers alone she’d guessed how many of its oddities worked, all of this with little to nothing to go off on, each new discovery giving her new ideas for her own project. She was radiant.

Hiashi had concluded with amazement that she had indeed been the one to come up with the terrace structure idea. It was clear that she had given her projects to improve agriculture much thought, probably for many years. She’d explained that she thought best whilst working the field – that she liked to keep her hands busy whilst thinking – and when he’d eventually asked her why she hadn’t implemented her new irrigation system idea already, as it was clear that she knew each step by heart, she’d explained that she could barely spare the time to work on it with all of the time she spent out on the fields or on her mother’s pottery, and that the materials she’d need for the tubes were hard to get in the deep reaches of tea country, not to mention expensive. He had always thought that ninja had it the hardest, that they deserved all the credit for everything, but Chihiro changed his mind.

She had been so very bright, resourceful and perceptive and Hiashi, despite his high birth and noble up-bringing and all of his father’s lectures on how they were superior to civilian-borns, never mind civilians, never mind the peasants working the fields – had found himself falling in love for the first time.

His injury, much to his dismay, had finished healing just as the retrieval squad had found him. He had known that he needed to go back, but he’d left her all of his money on the small table in her room, along with a note to use it for her tubes. Lying to his father about the money upon his return to the village had been unpleasant but worth it. Tea Country was still lauded to this day for their groundbreaking irrigation system, the one that had given Chihiro’s home village the name of ‘River’s Breath’.

After that, he and Chihiro had exchanged letters for many years. Hiashi had kept trying to postpone his marriage (he had been engaged to a distant cousin since he was five), instead taking missions to Tea Country whenever one became available. He’d never let Chihiro know how he felt nor shown it in any of his actions or words. In fact, his fear of breaching the topic of romance had been so great that he hadn’t even been sure whether she had any kind of suitor or dalliances at all. Even so, he had toyed with the thought of marrying her often, if only in daydreams which he knew would never come to pass, or of his boring cousin waking up one day and developing a sudden interest in irrigation systems, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Then, around the time he finally became clan head at age twenty-one, Chihiro’s mother fell ill. She had sent him a desperate letter narrating the details of the lung infection and her own futile attempts to ease the woman’s pain, and at once Hiashi had written back to tell her that Konoha’s doors would be open to her, that they had a healthcare system which could likely cure her. Chihiro had never replied to that letter.

Fearing the worst, he had left on the first mission in the area he could find. However, by the time he’d made it to River’s Breath, she’d been long gone and no one had known where to.  It was only upon his return to Konoha that he’d heard the news: a young woman of nineteen had come through the gates the other day, sweat-soaked but triumphant, carrying an older woman upon her shoulders – a very ill older woman. Rumor had it that the girl had carried her mother all the way from Tea Country like that and had still made the trip in only four day’s time, any more and the meager rations she had brought would have run out. As it was, Chihiro had arrived starved to death. She was amazing. 

If he had been in the village, he would have gladly helped her convince the immigration office to allow her passage into the village. There would have been no need to cajole a banker into lending her enough money to pay for her mother’s treatment because he could have done so himself… and she subsequently wouldn’t have striven to find work in order to repay the debt… work at which she’d met Yamanaka Inoichi.

Inoichi, the bastard, had been faster and surer. Where Hiashi had hesitated, Inoichi had pounced. Where Hiashi had thought he’d be doing Chihiro an immense favor for agreeing to go out with a low-born civilian like her, Inoichi had told Chihiro that she’d be doing him a favor for ‘putting up with his clan’s old fogies’. Before Hiashi could even begin to register the new threat, the blonde had already snatched Chihiro’s heart away, all to himself.

Hiashi had been forced to watch the couple give their all to stay together, forced to watch them defy the Yamanaka elders in a way he’d never have dreamed possible. Chihiro had even gone as far as graduating from the Academy to gain their approval and when not even that had been enough, she’d thrown herself head-first into the chunin exam prep-work. Hiashi had prayed that she would fail in this endeavor, that the elders would give her the no, but when Chihiro had asked him for help with preparing for her chunin exam he hadn’t been able to say no to her. She was special, after all. With or without his help, Hiashi had known that she would have passed.

At that point, asking to court her or even telling her his feelings would have just distanced them. For all her natural talent for building irrigation systems, the woman was quite oblivious in the matters of the heart – very unlike keen Inoichi, who had always treated Hiashi like the competition he’d known him to be. Hiashi had realized then that where it truly counted he had been a coward.

Inoichi and Chihiro had gotten married soon afterward (Inoichi no doubt rushing things as much as possible so that Hiashi couldn’t get any ideas) and had had a child a few months later. Hiashi had gotten married to his cousin too after that, with Chihiro fussing ecstatically during the short minutes before the ceremony, adjusting his haori and cooing over ‘how handsome he looked’. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture her as his bride. His father had raised him to be an honorable man, however, and in that moment, with everything he’d wanted so far and yet so close, he had realized that his pining was hopeless. He needed to stop. What he was doing and feeling was unfair to his new wife, and so what he must do was to cut contact with the newly minted Yamanaka matriarch, no matter how much it pained him. And so he did.

Chihiro hadn’t understood the sudden ‘cold shoulder’, as she had called it, but he’d rather it be that way. He had avoided her as much as possible from then on, hearing about her life only from others. He had been unable to follow the same policy in regards to Inoichi however. Inoichi, in his mind, had been stupid and impulsive, getting Chihiro pregnant when he’d been much too young (and in the middle of a war) and it would be his fault when misfortune inevitably found them. Even so, he’d see their happiness, their beautiful, mischievous child, all three of them out on the street enjoying the sun on a normal grocery run – and the sight would consume him with envy.

Their baby girl had looked extremely similar to her mother, with Chihiro’s mischievous eyes and the  stubborn set to her jaw. Just seeing her once in passing had been a hard blow. 

He remembered hearing from a younger cousin that the little girl, Inoue, was a simpleton, that she was struggling with learning to read and write at the Academy. If he had been her father, the girl would have had no issues, he was sure. Her education would have been excellent. Hiashi hadn’t been able to keep himself from venting to some of his friends, and in doing so had accidentally spread rumors about  the little girl. This was all it had taken to earn Inoichi’s eternal wrath and Chihiro’s coldest disdain for himself  – former friend or not. He was lucky to have gotten an invite to Ino’s party even now, as the old wound had festered when Inoue had gotten kidnapped shortly after, never to be seen again. This is why Hiashi had been understandably floored when Inoichi had suddenly begun shouting that name out of nowhere in the middle of the Conference Room: Inoue.

What did it mean?

The ANBU agent Inoichi had been staring at had been wearing a mask so he couldn’t see their face, but the long, pale blonde hair, which had been pulled into a high braid, spoke of Yamanaka descent. The style wasn’t quite the head family’s traditional ponytail but could almost be seen as a nod toward it… could it be?

Inoichi’s thunderstruck expression when the ANBU had fallen certainly seemed to point toward Hiashi’s new theory. Himself and the blonde had never seen eye to eye, but in this moment, the head of the Hyuga clan found himself truly feeling for him, for Chihiro especially, and he resolved to lend the Yamanaka clan his political backing should they need it concerning the matter of Inoue, should the fallen agent truly be who he thought she was. If she’d been taken against her will and made to fight for Root, as it looked like… Hiashi’s jaw gritted, imagining Hinata in the same position. This could very well have been his daughter. She, too, had been kidnapped at a young age, though the attempt had not succeeded, if almost. But what if it had? Hiashi swallowed. He could truly commiserate with Inoichi in that moment. Yes, he decided. He would help his old-time enemy to rally against Danzo himself if that’s what it took. The blonde need only say the word. Hiashi turned toward Inoichi, who had just called out to him, a new gleam of reconciliation in his eye. It was time for the old wounds between them to close at last.

 

---

 

In hindsight, calling the uppity Hyuga by his given name to then tell him to ‘get his ass over here’ had not been one of Inoichi’s brightest moments. However, he was too shaken right then to care, and thankfully the Hyuga actually didn’t complain. “What is it, Yamanaka?” the man questioned as he walked briskly toward him.

“Can you check whether that ANBU has chakra?” Inoichi shot back urgently.

Hyuga Hiashi nodded seriously and turned to do just that. Needless to say, Inoichi was more than a little surprised at the lack of complaints from him – they had all seen Kakashi’s companion get stabbed in the heart, meaning the agent’s chakra should be rapidly disappearing – but Hiashi did not seem to be questioning Inoichi’s request at all. Without further ado, the man activated his byakugan and took a close look at the corpse Inoichi knew to be his daughter. To his dread, the normally stoic man’s eyes widened as he regarded the body.

“What? What is it?” Inoichi pressed anxiously.

“That… that woman is as alive as they get,” Hiashi muttered, eyes were wide. That woman… possibly Inoue… members of the Yamanaka clan had a much greater volume of chakra pathways within their brains than the norm, but this one… this woman who was very clearly a Yamanaka – one he had never seen before… well, let’s just say Hiashi would have remembered if he’d seen someone like this before.The sheer amount of chakra pathways, all of them carrying so much chakra inside was something he wouldn’t have thought physically possible if he weren’t seeing it just then. He knew from experience that such a chakra density would not only result in an extremely painful migraine for the woman but also present a great risk to her life. If one of those pathways burst…

 

“Wait? Woman?” Tsume interrupted his train of thought. “You’re telling me blondie over there’s a woman?”

Of course she was. Hiashi had not only heard Inoichi scream his daughter’s name whilst staring at her – he also had his byakugan, which allowed him to see that yes, this person in fact had breasts, despite the unisex armor. He relayed as much to Tsume in crisp tones, who seemed elated and got started on some kind of feminist bullshit rant which Hiashi tuned out. He was fed up with that tripe.

“Not the time!” Inoichi shouted, steamrolling over Tsume’s speechas well, in order to stare at Hiashi. “You mean to tell me she’s alive?! Really?”

“Hey listen now! Is feminism a joke to you, you blonde bas–”

 

 

---

 

 

Inoichi gritted his teeth. He didn’t give a toss about anything at the moment but his daughter’s life. He didn’t care if Tsume gave him the cold shoulder after this, he didn’t even bother to mince his words. “Just shut up Tsume. Well, Hyuga?”

Hiashi, who hadn’t so much as glanced at Tsume and was still staring at the his daughter’s head for some reason, nodded.

“Yes, she is alive, Yamanaka.” Air swooshed out of his lungs in one big heave, but he quickly sucked in another breath once Hiashi continued talking: “Though… her chakra is doing something very odd…” He paused for a moment. “I believe she is the one destroying the seals of our prison.”

Inoichi’s eyes widened. Again, he was relieved his baby girl (woman?) wasn’t actually in danger but – Inoue was… destroying the seals? He almost hadn’t wanted to believe it, but… all evidence seemed to point towards it. Inoue was helping them. Helping him. She cared? Well, she could just be trying to break them free because it was the logical thing to do, but his father heart preferred believing that she cared… that she was taking this incredible risk for him. Even if a treacherous part of his mind whispered that he was deluding himself.

---

Unfortunately, though the clan head’s conversation couldn’t be heard, they could still be seen, and a Suna jonin had noticed all of them staring intently at a certain corpse and a blonde man grinning… The jonin put two and two together and leapt toward the corpse, intending to stab it again just to be sure. Kakashi, in turn, noticed him noticing and panicked. He was on the other side of the room!

‘Yu – Río! Río, get out of there!’ he thought frantically. She didn’t react. He felt himself tensing as the guy approached, trying in vain to finish off his current opponent. What did she say again? ‘Strawberry cake…? No, chocolate muffin! Río, chocolate muffin! Get out of there!’

At last this somehow seemed to do the trick and Rio’s body promptly sprang up, just in time to dodge the incoming attack. Half a dozen jonin watched, stupefied, as a corpse got up and promptly began to twirl out of the way of a downright  avalanche of attacks, looking fresh as a lettuce. 

“What the…?”

“That fucker was acting!”

“Kill that guy!”

Soon, the situation had reverted to what it previously was, with Kakashi and Río being kept from the seals.

‘How many left?” Kakashi questioned. Río didn’t answer. He had no clue how her telepathy thing worked but apparently it had its limits, or maybe his thoughts just weren’t very loud… he still wasn’t sure what she’d meant by that. Since he had no clue how to think loudly, Kakashi made an effort to catch her eye while fighting and when she finally glanced at him, he tapped his head with his finger a few times. Behind him, one of the jonin growled murderously, no doubt having interpreted the gesture as him calling them all crazy, though thankfully Río finally seemed to get the message.

‘Yes, Kakashi?’

‘How many tags are left?’ he asked quickly, dodging around the rampaging jonin.

‘Only the one,’ she confessed with irritation. ‘I was almost done when that guy butted in.’

Damn… they’d been so close. He dodged another flying fan and kicked someone’s spleen in.  ‘Río? Are you still there?’

Apparently she’d logged off again when a jonin tried to decapitate her with a wind jutsu. Why did she keep doing that? ‘Río, are you there?’ he tried again. Nope. No one was answering. It looked like she was busy with her fight. Resigned to doing this the normal way, Kakashi signaled Tenzo from across the room. Telepathy was a lot more practical now that he had experienced it, but oh well. Kakashi managed to make do with some signals, hoping the Suna and Oto guys wouldn’t catch on to the meaning since they appeared to have spies in Konoha’s ranks. The signals were ANBU standard for ‘underground’, ‘attack’ and the exact number of the row that the tile he wanted Tenzo to target. Thankfully, his kohai seemed to get the gist of his odd message and sent a mokuton attack down toward the floor, managing to uproot the last seal with a loud crash. Normally this strategy would have been suicidal, as it revealed their plan to the enemy, but this was the last seal. With one mighty water bullet shot across the room, Kakashi both destroyed and soaked the final tag for good measure. The kanji upon it flickered and a second later the barrier around the clan heads went down.

 

 

---

 

Outside, the world became reduced to the noise of screams and battle, to the balmy night air, to the sinister shapes of burning rooftops in the distance and moonlit bodies sprawled against gray cobblestone. Everywhere Ino looked, she could see people fighting, people screaming, people dying. Swallowing thickly, she glanced down at Shikamaru, whom she was heaving behind her with much effort. Even in the dark his skin shone, marble-like, white as a corpse. She had to restrain her urge to check whether he was alive yet again; he was: she could hear his uneven breathing – but he wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Not unless she did something.

This was the plan she’d come up with: get Shikamaru to the Yamanaka greenhouse and… well. That was it. She didn’t know how she was going to do it except that she had to. She would carry him princess style all the way if that’s what it took. She had to give him the antidote.

Her only saving grace was the fact that the Nara lands were surrounded by a thick forest, which seemed mostly clear from enemies… More importantly, one of its edges was relatively close to the back of the Hyuga compound, which in turn was close to the Yamanaka greenhouses. Hopefully the Hyuga would have the place under strong security. They were all so obsessed with their clan pride and tradition and whatnot – Ino was certain they’d have a whole slew of guards there to protect their precious grounds – guards who could help her if things got tricky. Yes. This was what she’d do.

Without further preparation, she dragged her teammate into the deep canopy… and dragged him… and dragged him… It was not all that easy.

The truth of the matter was, Shikamaru happened to be a growing teenage boy, and growing teenage boys happen to be heavy. And Ino had rather neglected strength training. Yes, she had put in more of an effort after the team seven versus team ten spar, when Sakura had beaten her, but it still wasn’t enough to give her the strength to effortlessly lift Shikamaru and carry him all the way across the forest and past the Hyuga compound till the greenhouses, or at least, not quickly enough. She was certain that at the pace she was going, she wouldn’t make it in time to get him the antidote and Shikamaru would die. If he did, it would be her fault. Hers. What was risking her life worth if she couldn’t even get to the greenhouses on time?

Ino felt tears of frustration prickling at her eyes and, since there was no one there to see, she simply gritted her teeth and concentrated on forging on rather than holding the tears back. She was in the middle of sobbing uncontrollably when she heard him:

“…some…”

She stopped, astounded, and turned to stare at Shikamaru. He was awake. Sort of.

“W-what?” Ino stuttered wetly.

“Troublesome,” is what he muttered back incoherently. “G’back… Ino…”

She swiped at her eyes and set her jaw. “Now listen you! I’m not gonna do that! I’m taking you to get your antidote so…! So just hold on!”

“S’not gonna work…” he replied groggily.

“Yes it will!” Ino said hysterically. It had to. It had to. “I… just… just save your strength, please! And hold on, okay? Just hold on!” In that instant, something wet bumped against her hip and she jumped back, startled, clutching onto Shikamaru’s limp form for dear life. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that it wasn’t an enemy, but an animal. A stag, more precisely. A really big stag with huge antlers.

Ino stared at it for a moment, wide eyed, blinking rapidly to clear her sight. The stag bumped her hip with its head again and made a huffing noise, then brushed its head carefully over Shikamaru’s arm. Once accomplished, it looked at Ino expectantly… and Ino understood. She did not come from a family of mind-readers for nothing.

“You… you’d carry Shikamaru?” She felt rather silly talking to a normal  animal as if it could understand her, but the stag just looked at her steadily, in a patient way that gave her courage. It didn’t answer, of course, but she took the docile behavior as encouragement. Slowly, she began transferring Shikamaru’s weight on top of the stag, and when it still didn’t huff or complain in any way, Ino hesitantly heaved Shikamaru’s whole body over the stag’s back. She still had to hold onto Shikamaru to make sure he didn’t fall off, but this method made carrying him that much easier. Soon they’d reached the end of the treeline, the houses of the Hyuga compound visible a ways off. Ino was wondering how she was going to carry Shikamaru now, but to her surprise, the stag followed her even outside the forest.

Ino had never been gladder about anything in her life. This would be the hard part, she knew. Getting to the greenhouses from here on would mean crossing a veritable war zone, and the Hyuga compound was clearly not as safe as she’d first assumed. In fact, it didn’t seem safe at all. The lights were turned off and she could barely even see anyone there. She had hoped to get a Hyuga to help her, what with being a clan heiress, or at least fight against the bad guys if they attacked whilst Ino was around. Getting them to be her ‘protection detail’ had been a long shot, since the bad blood between her daddy and the uppity Hyuga clan head was legendary – and in fact the reason she’d never befriended Hinata the way she had Sakura – but now she knew for sure she wouldn’t get any help. No one was even there.

And yet – she’d come this far. She couldn’t turn back now. What else could she do but forge on? There was no choice but to arm herself with courage and cross the streets up to the greenhouse as quickly as possible, no choice but to hope her luck wouldn’t run out. She walked briskly ahead, clutching onto Shikamaru as she did, the stag moving its head uneasily from side to side.

Predictably, her luck did run out. Immediately. A bunch of Suna nin rounded the corner. They had clearly been destroying Hyuga houses, setting small gardens aflame and pilfering all objects of value they came across. Naturally, they just had to run into Ino whilst they were at it. The four creepy shits stopped in their tracks upon seeing her. They didn’t talk, but they looked at each other and that seemed to be enough for the lot to communicate their intentions. Ino retreated, half terrified, half frozen, but she couldn’t run or Shikamaru would fall off the stag, so she stood her ground. Her fingers flew to her shuriken holster she’d strapped beneath her Yukata, but she knew immediately that they would do her little good. Before the party she’d felt super adult-like, whilst strapping the hidden shuriken to her leg, though in hindsight, it had just been a vain attempt to copy all those prestigious kunoichi who were rumored to carry their weapons even into the bathroom. Never in a million years had Ino thought she’d actually use that holster for anything but maybe to one up Sakura – except now she was regretting not to have packed more weapons with every fiber of her being.

The Suna nin were all looking at her, intently, very intently. She was frozen. Everything she’d ever learned at the Academy seemed to have evaporated; she remembered nothing. All that existed within her were those four pairs of creepy ass eyes, and the fact that they were fixed on her, all four Suna nin advancing and she had nowhere to run–

The tallest guy, undoubtedly the leader of the lot, smiled at her. His teeth weren’t yellow like in the books, nor pointy like a vampire’s, in fact they were pearly-white and well-kept. The man looked so normal… and yet in that moment, with that smile, he was a monster.

Terrified beyond belief now, Ino grasped all the shuriken she could reach and chugged them in his general direction, but the man deflected each one easily. He was so silent. She almost wished he’d declare all the bad things he was about to do and start monologuing, if only so she’d know what to expect, if only so that the silence would stop. What didn’t stop was his advance. He moved forward confidently, as though absolutely certain he would…

An awful, squelching noise cut off her train of thought. A second later, it was followed by the noise of a body hitting the floor – his. Ino stared at it blankly. No, it was not a trick. She tried kai but he did not get up. The sight of brain matter flowing out of his bashed in skull did not disappear. Brain matter. His body twitched once or twice before going still. His skull looked like a mauled soccer ball. A tile from a nearby roof was still impaled to the back of it. It must have fallen on top of his head and killed him, even though Ino hadn’t heard or seen anything.

For a moment, all anyone did was stare at the body blankly.

Maybe I am rather lucky after all… Ino thought faintly.

The three Suna nin that were left looked around uneasily, but no possible assailants could be seen in the area. Wait. They were off their game now! Ino didn’t think twice and took that chance to run. Adrenaline gave her wings and she whisked Shikamaru into her arms, never mind what the stag was doing, and took off toward the greenhouses, not daring to look back. From the noise of hooves pounding against the ground, she could tell that the stag was galloping behind her, but she was going so fast that it didn’t catch up. Even so, her arms and legs were burning by the time she made it out of the Hyuga compound. She listened as hard as she could for footsteps that might have followed behind her but there were none. It was eerily quiet. She’d gotten lucky that a loose roof tile had fallen on top of the Suna nin’s head – she supposed that all the explosions going off everywhere made that a very real possibility – but why was no one following her? Maybe the other Suna nin thought she was behind the roof tile thing and were afraid of attacking her? But that didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t they want revenge instead? Ino knew that her teal-colored yukata with the pink cherry blossom pattern was very cute and all – but it certainly wasn’t very intimidating. It was covered in sweat, dust and leaves now, but still… there was no way those guys had been intimidated by her.

In any case, she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If those Suna nin had decided to leave her alone, for whatever reason, then perfect. She’d make good use of the opportunity. With these thoughts, she strutted right up to the closest greenhouse, intending to get Shikamaru the antidote once and for all, when suddenly, behind her someone spoke:

“Yamanaka Ino! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

She turned, half-terrified it was one of the Suna nin again when–

Ino gaped. “Mom?!”

Yamanaka Chihiro was in fact standing before her, expression thunderous, her usually tightly-confined coif completely undone. Bits of brain matter were… dangling off it. Ino just gaped incredulously.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what, by the seven blazes, possessed you to come here on your own?!” Chihiro shouted.

Ino stared at her in mute wonder. And slight horror. Her mother was usually someone with so much self-control and poise that her sudden screaming almost had her believing the woman was an impostor. But no, it was her mother. Somehow.

Ino still couldn’t believe it though. For kami’s sake, family friends jokingly called Chihiro ‘the ice queen’ for a reason – and yet now she was everything but. This was the first time Ino ever saw her in such a state: panting, wild-eyed and… yeah. With brain matter in her hair.

“M-mom?”

Chihiro didn’t answer whatsoever. She slanted a furious glance at Shikamaru, seeming completely unsurprised to see him there, and snatched him off Ino’s arms briskly. Then she grabbed Ino’s elbow and started tugging her back the way she’d come from, en route forest. Meanwhile, Ino was momentarily floored, but the stag apparently not so much because it immediately started to huff and puff dangerously and stepped into their path as if attempting to get them to turn back toward the greenhouses. It was only then, as they were passing the now four corpses of the Suna nin who had previously attacked her, that Ino snapped out of it.

“Mom, what are you–? We need to go back to help Shikamaru! Are you insane?! What are you doing?!” She planted her feet firmly into the ground, forcing Chihiro to either tear Ino’s arm off its socket or stop walking.

Ino could literally see her mother’s nostrils flaring.

“There are enemy ninja within the greenhouses,” Chihiro snapped. “Jonin level. My chances against them are slim to none and I am not letting you anywhere near those brutes on my watch.”

Ino stared at her wide-eyed.

“But – but mom! We need to save Shikamaru! And all the other people! And I’m a ninja now! I don’t care if you don’t want me anywhere near–”

Slap.

Ino reared back, shocked. Her mother had slapped her. She never did that. Chihiro’s face was absolutely livid. “We are going home. End of discussion.”

Her expression brooked absolutely no argument and Ino would have been crazy to try and talk back at her right then but–

“No! We are not going home! At least I am not! You can go back and – and carry on with your stupid interviews all you like but I…!” She took a deep, ragged breath, “I am staying here, with my teammate!”

“Ino, be reasonable–”

“No! I’m not moving no matter what you tell me! That’s my ninja way! I’m not some coward for you to keep on overprotecting!”

She was not just being dramatic. Her parents were the textbook definition of helicopter parents. Especially her mother: Chihiro always seemed to know exactly where Ino was and what she was doing at any given time and never allowed her to step a single toe out of line, to stay up late, to go to the training ground alone, to meet with her friends after dark – whatever. No matter how hard Ino tried to fight for her independence, her mother never budged an inch. And fine, she was twelve – thirteen –  but now she was a ninja and that  trumped everything else. It meant she was an adult. A warrior. Not some little kid. Ino had tolerated her parent’s mollycoddling all these years because she’d been a kid, and that’s what kids do, but basta. She was now officially done with their crap. Her mother would not get in the way of her saving Shikamaru. She wouldn’t. 

“Ino. I am not telling you this again,” Chihiro said threateningly. “Cease your asinine tantrum at once. We are in a war zone. I realize you care about your genin teammate but–”

“My genin teammate?!” Ino shrieked. “My genin teammate?! This is Shikamaru we’re talking about! He’s not just some genin teammate! He’s my childhood friend! You know, your best friend’s kid?! How can you not care what happens to him?!”

“You throwing your life away for him isn’t going to solve anything,” Chihiro gritted out. She was back to the controlled “appears-calm-but-really-isn’t” brand of anger Ino was more used to. It was then that her mother took a deep breath.

“Listen Ino. We have never told you this – your father and I – because – well. It’s a hard truth. We didn’t want to scare you or place an unnecessary burden on you at such a young age, but since you insist – you have a sister that–”

“I already know about that!” Ino interrupted the rant before it could even start. “I already heard you guys whispering about how she eloped with a dango vendor or some crap like that! You thought I wouldn’t notice all your secrecy? Well, I guess you don’t care since you’re always disregarding my opinion–”

Chihiro shushed her with her hand. “She was kidnapped, Ino!”

That shut her up. Kidnapped?

“She didn’t leave, she was taken,” Chihiro said softly. “At age six.” Her expression hardened, jaw tight. “I pray you’ll forgive me for trying to avoid a repeat performance.”

“A – a – repeat performance?” Ino questioned. “What, is someone after me or something?”

“We… we don’t know. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is getting you back to safety–”

Ino shook her head slowly. “I get it, mom. You care about me. I get it, and I’m glad. But I care about Shika and I’m not leaving here.” She glanced at the Suna nin corpses which were still lying there, sprawled on the fancy tiling of the Hyuga compound. All of them had died the same way, with their skulls bashed open through blunt force.

“You killed them,” she realized. “You killed them, didn’t you, mom?”

It seemed impossible. Her mother was not a ninja. She worked for the clan’s flower delivery business, for kami’s sake – and yet who else could it have been? By all intents and purposes, it was her mother who had bashed the four nin’s skulls in via throwing tiles at them… or something.

“Yes, that was me,” Chihiro said regretfully. “I apologize for the gruesome sight, Ino. I worked with what little materials were available to me.”

Silence.

Ino had always known, factually, that her mother had once been promoted to chunin. Chihiro had shown her the green vest that had been given to her, back when Ino had been little, and Ino had used it to play dress up… but the fact that her mother had actually been a ninja not just in name, but in mentality, that she was capable of such violence… it was only now starting to sink in. But that also meant…

“Mom. You used to be a ninja!” Ino exclaimed urgently.

Chihiro gave her a droll look. “Your point being?”

“You can help me take over the greenhouses. You have to.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“You have to,” Ino insisted. “Shikamaru’s life is riding on this! Not to mention all those other people who ate at my party! I-if you don’t help me, I’ll tell Yoshino-san that you were going to let Shika die even though you were right next to the greenhouses! And you still turned to go away!”

Chihiro crossed her arms, expression cold. “I could care less if Yoshino hates me after this,” she snapped, the force of her voice betraying that this was a lie. “All I care is that you’re safe, Ino. Now will you please–”

Ino tore herself free of her mother’s grip and took off at a sprint toward the greenhouse. The stag, which had been glaring at them but not attacking, moved to intercept her mother, who was now hot in pursuit, as Ino ran past.

“INO!” Chihiro hissed angrily. “Stop right there! There’s jonin up ahead and be glad they’re not sensors!”

Ino continued running. Finally, her mother caught up, grabbing both of Ino’s shoulders to turn her around. Her face was uncharacteristically serious. “Alright.”

Ino blinked. “What?”

“Alright,” Chihiro repeated. “I’ll help you. But you have to promise me you’ll do everything I tell you to. And if I tell you to run, you run.”

Ino slowly came to a stop, glancing back at her mother.

“Alright… Then let’s go.” Ino swallowed nervously and tried to look like she wasn’t freaking the hell out about what they were about to do. “Time to break into our own greenhouse and kick some ass!”

 

 

---

 

 

 

Phew. They’d done it! Kakashi heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Orochimaru’s barrier crumble. Finally, the clan heads could join the fight. As such, he happily left the remaining two jonin which had survived his gentle mercies in the capable hands of Hyuga Hizashi (or was it Hiroshi?) and that Inuzuka woman.

His triumphant thoughts were halted, however, when Orochimaru once again changed tactics. Likely noticing how the tables had almost turned, the sannin hissed at Tobirama and Minato to take out as many of the Konoha shinobi as they could, whilst Hashirama was to remain by his side in order to fight Hiruzen. Glancing over, Kakashi noticed with dismay that out of the ANBU that had gone to aid the hokage, most if not all were gravely injured, two of the ones he hadn’t known dead. Of the survivors, Raido was lying on the ground, a battered and signed Yugao attempting to stop the bleeding in his leg with unresponsive, trembling fingers… and Hiruzen himself was limping heavily, appearing chakra-exhausted. 

Even this weakened Hashirama on his own would be too much.

 

Kakashi was unable to further follow that particular (and horrifying) new development when he realized that Minato-sensei and the nidaime had begun to attack their group at large. The two were way above ANBU level, even in their weakened forms, and now that the hokage wasn’t there to keep them occupied… this was going to become a blood bath. He didn’t even want to think about what might happen if all the clan heads died in one shot, killed by their own revived hokage no less. His own teammates, most of which had already been injured, were Kakashi’s main concern however. They would feel responsible, they would want to spare the clan heads by fighting against the hokage themselves… but he couldn’t lose them.

Minato needed to be contained. In fact, the blond man was flitting around the room with his hiraishin, leaving but a yellow flash he had been infamously named after in his wake. He noticed Tenzo and Gai, who had been helping fight some of the Suna and Oto ANBU looking at the former hokage grimly, both with identical expressions on their faces.

Kakashi’s next actions weren’t out of courage or some misguided sense of honor. No, they were purely out of selfishness. He knew Gai and Tenzo were some of the best the village had to offer, that their chances of survival if they were to fight the yellow flash were around the same as his, but they were also his two closest friends. If they died today, both at the same time, together with Genma… possibly Raido… it would be too much for him. Kakashi knew he would die with them. 

This is why, though he was already tired and with little chakra left, had almost overused his sharingan – all of this whilst still slightly hungover from yesterday – he attacked Minato-sensei head on. Flashbacks of his arm ripping through Rin’s chest kept threatening to cloud his mind; he had already had a close call for repeating history today with Yugao/Río but if he were to kill Minato-sensei now… even if he was technically dead already… this was still the man who had almost doubled as a father, the only one to be there for him always–

He’s dead, he’s not real. It’s just a reanimation. I have no choice but to do this. I must. He’s not real.

And yet Minato’s stark blue eyes were just as kind as he remembered them, his movements bearing the same deadly grace he’d striven to imitate for most of his life. Revived or not, this was undoubtedly Namikaze Minato.

“Sensei… It’s been a while,” Kakashi said softly.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Upon hearing his words, the yondaime immediately halted his frantic flickering, going completely still.

“Kakashi!” the blond man exclaimed, though he looked shaken. “You… Look at you! You’re tall now…”

That was the first thing he said? That? Kakashi glared at his sensei hardheartedly. Never mind. Of course it would be. Minato had always loved to tease him about his height… Kakashi had almost forgotten that.

“I’m taller than you now, sensei,” he found himself replying, rather redundantly. How many times had he imagined what his first conversation with sensei would be like if the afterlife existed? This was definitely not it.

“Ah, well… I’m sorry we had to meet like this,” Minato added awkwardly. “I… I can’t control what I’m doing – Kakashi! I’m about to attack you! Watch out!”

Well… that was certainly novel. Getting warned by an opponent… a slight hit to his pride, if he was being honest with himself, though simultaneously not altogether unwelcome, considering sensei’s skill. In the next few minutes, Kakashi found himself yet again plagued by an odd sense of dejá vu, of having fought this fight before, and yet it being completely different.

It was odd, he thought, that Minato was now shorter than him. In his memory, he always towered… maybe fighting against him would be easier now? Then he was forced to dodge a barrage of shuriken and three kicks strong enough to break cement by the skin of his teeth and forcibly changed his mind; sensei clearly hadn’t lost his touch. Why did he have to be hangover again? He never got drunk! Never! And the one time he did, this happened!

I’m not touching sake again in my life, Kakashi swore, springing away from yet another explosive tag. Ever.

---

The moment the barrier encasing all of the clan heads gave away, Hyuga Hiashi sprang into action. Though he now trained much less than he had used to and had stopped going on missions, he was still the young Hyuga who’d been lauded as a genius back in the day for making jonin at fifteen. As such it was his place to fight the most dangerous opponents today. That was the responsibility that came with power.

When the fourth and second hokage had leapt toward them on Orochimaru’s command, Hiashi was the one who stepped up to face them. Senju Tobirama ceased his assault to pause in front of him, watching Hiashi with narrowed eyes whilst Namikaze Minato continued on.

“Hyuga. You wish to fight me?” Nidaime-sama asked in a deep, imposing voice.

Not particularly, no. But what choice did he have?

“I will do it,” Hiashi confirmed.

Tobirama-sama watched him for another moment, expression solemn. “So be it,” he acquiesced – and in the next second jumped toward him. Hiashi parried the incoming punch with his own arm, but the force behind it still rattled him. He had expected the nidaime’s strength, and yet it was still more than he’d prepared for. For all that Hashirama was much more widely known and talked about, Hiashi realized in that moment that his chances of winning this fight were minuscule… unless… he disabled Tobirama’s tenketsu? Perhaps then Orochimaru’s ritual would be canceled. Perhaps that was the key. Perhaps a few well-placed chakra hits would be the trick to breaking Orochimaru’s reanimation jutsu.

This was easier said than done. Hiashi quickly discovered that, even dead, Tobirama was wicked fast, dodging his onslaught of the gentle fist with an ease and fluidity that should have been impossible. For the blows leveled toward the stomach, the nidaime didn’t even bother with that much as his armor was made up of a strong material Hiashi’s chakra couldn’t get through. In fact, every important tenketsu on the man’s body was covered by his armor, even the one located on the pelvis, which was typically Hiashi’s go-to attack point for the rare armored opponent. His last resort was the large tenketsu located on the forehead, but he realized with distress that this one too was covered by the man’s happuri, which spanned over a larger area than a normal forehead protector. Truly, just from his attire the nidaime would have been a hard opponent for him, never mind his actual skill.

“Hyuga,” Tobirama-sama said, following his gaze. The man was watching him still with that keen gaze.

“My lord?”

“Leave me now. Your style is unsuited to my attire. Let someone else fight me.”

Hiashi dodged another punch that would have likely concussed him had it hit and weaved around the man. Armour or no, that had been a blow to his pride. It seemed that the nidaime wasn’t one to mince his words.

“No,” Hiashi said. “With all respect for my peers, none of the other clan heads have enough skill for this type of match. If I let them fight you, you’d go through them very quickly. Even if I am unsuited to this battle, I intend to stall you for as long as possible.”

The nidaime frowned. “Hyuga… I have always respected your people. Out of all the council members, your ancestor gave me the least grief. I would hate to kill his kin.”

It was a warning. Hiashi swallowed. “Your words honor my clan, Senju-sama.”

“You wish to continue.” It was a question, though not phrased that way.

Hiashi flinched, thinking of Hinata even as he dodged yet another attack, thinking of Hanabi. He had to be strong, for them – but in this case, what was strength? Giving up or forging on?

He made his decision. He would not be a coward again. He was a man of honor. “Yes. Let us proceed.”

The nidaime breathed out slowly, even though Hiashi had noted earlier that none of the reanimations required oxygen. “Very well then.”

Hiashi lapsed into silence as he fought against Senju Tobirama with renewed fervor. He knew that he had to prevail in order to be there for his daughters, knew that losing was not an option, now less than ever before…

Even so, he was fighting a living legend and it was taking its toll on him. Not only was there the physical aspect of the nidaime’s attacks to worry about but also the psychological one. His desire to do well made Hiashi hastier than he would like and less coordinated. His respect for the nidaime hokage made him falter and flinch back, if only mentally – but the thought of his two daughters gave him strength to push through, and so, with them in his mind he forged on, every second one in which he fought for his life.

Minutes passed. While Hiashi had run out of attack combos and special moves with which to surprise the late hokage, the nidaime kept using diverse skills and jutsu, some which he’d never heard of before.

Hiashi was certain the nidaime had switched between at least four entirely different taijutsu styles in the span of a few minutes, two of which had been lost to time, each of them patently intricate and complex in a different way. The sudden changes put him off his game and made him nervous. He couldn’t get used to a style that was in constant movement, one which changed continuously, and he needed to know his opponent in order to predict and prepare for their attacks. That wasn’t possible now.

Hiashi had once read a quote from a wise thinker, who had said “you can never jump into the same river twice”. Tobirama-sama was that river. He never stayed the damn same. Needless to say, Hiashi had never liked rivers. His clan was one grounded in stable, infallible basics, solid and sure. Experiencing the hokage’s ever-changing taijutsu felt like walking into a veritable nightmare.

“Can you not stick to one style?” he’d coughed out after a particularly close call.

“I apologize,” said Tobirama slowly, “but this is my style.”

His style was not having a style? Hiashi cursed every deity out there for the existence of such a shinobi. He’d only seen a few Uchiha who could learn as many taijutsu styles so effectively, two was already considered very much, as mastering even one fully was something only jonin achieved. Even the Uchiha, with their unfair advantage, had always blended the different techniques they piqued up into one way of battle. He’d never met anyone who could just up and choose to swap styles out of nowhere like that, like they were cassette recorders to be traded out after one got bored.

“I will use my hiraishin now,” Tobirama stated suddenly. Without further warning, a kunai flew toward Hiashi with incredible speed. He only barely remembered that he needed to dive away – not deflect! – but by then the nidaime had already appeared in the place of the kunai and was lunging at him again. The yondaime’s technique… shit!

He only managed to dodge by the skin of his teeth this time. Each close call was getting closer and closer… he did not like the pattern. Hiashi had almost forgotten that the jutsu which had helped the yondaime slaughter hundreds in a single evening wasn’t originally Minato’s. This man was its creator. This man.

To make matters worse, Tobirama Senju’s pace of attacks increased with every passing minute – or perhaps that was just himself tiring – but the taijutsu wasn’t even the worst of it. So far, Hiashi had had to deal with water bullets which sped toward him like airborne torpedoes, twice as fast as any kunai or shuriken, with two walls made entirely of water that had tried to crush him to death betwixt them, and with a large puddle of barely-noticeable water which had been able to move insidiously around the floor when Hiashi wasn’t paying attention, to then reform into solid columns sharper than any metal at a moment’s notice, stalactites surging up to skewer him like transparent pistons. 

The worst part however was that fighting the nidaime was like getting his ears plugged. The odd feeling wasn’t a genjutsu either – he had checked: the nidaime simply didn’t make any noise, period. He didn’t talk, he didn’t pant, his heavy armor plates didn’t clink against each other when he jumped, he would catch any kunai Hiashi threw soundlessly, his sandals didn’t slap against the pavement. It was unnerving, like fighting against a ghost. Tobirama’s white hair and pallid skin didn’t help matters either. Added to the man’s gleaming red eyes, he seemed more and more like something out of a tale to terrify misbehaving children with every passing second. Hiashi even glanced at Minato and Hashirama to check whether the nidaime’s eerie appearance might be a byproduct of the reanimation, but the other two appeared like perfectly normal ninja (if one ignored the obvious), obligatory noises included.

It was irrational. Hiashi knew that Tobirama Senju bore zero ill will toward him, that the man didn’t even want to kill him whatsoever, and yet just his appearance was simply terrifying, more so than the larger threat, Hashirama. The silence that followed him like a cloud, the relaxed but clear expression– they were simply unnerving. But the thing that made him the most like a ghost was that for all that Hiashi prided himself on his speed – he just  couldn’t touch him – at all. He truly felt like was battling a mirage, a figment of his mind, trying to grasp water between two fingers.

A moment later, things began to look up, thank kami, when Tobirama’s quick hands flashed through handsigns yet again, bringing another jutsu into existence, this one… a technique he was familiar with. Finally. He had seen countless jonin use the same water hose-like jutsu – it could be fatal if one were to be hit, but the technique was easy to dodge. Yet then, once he’d successfully dodged the stream of water, Hiashi found to his dismay that it turned around like a living creature – and that the nidaime was still blasting water out of his mouth, increasing its size by the second.

He dodged once again, but the deviant water dragon – for that’s what the pressurized stream looked  like – turned on his heel and gave chase. Hiashi dodged again and again, but it’s ‘tail’ was getting longer, the space becoming overcrowded with so much water until finally he wasn’t quick enough to dodge and the spray hit him in the back as he was running. 

Hiashi felt a blinding pain arcing up his spine, then a crunch, and then nothing, paired with the sensation of weightlessness. A second later, his body impacted against the floor, though he again felt no pain in his lower body, and then against something softer – a person – as he was pelted across the room, the force of the water stream unimaginable. Even whilst airborne, with the water surrounding every part of him, he couldn’t open his eyes to see,  couldn’t hear anything but a roar, couldn’t open his mouth to scream or even breathe – all he could do was feel the sensations of more and more shinobi being hit by his own limp body and finally, all of them being dragged forward like a ball of accumulating slime, then there was a strong impact, brusquer than any yet – and finally blessed nothingness, no motion. He felt something warm and sticky trickle down his nape, into his hair and neck. His body slid down and he hit the ground one with an empty thud. He did not get up after that.

Hiashi’s last thought was for his two daughters, but especially little Hinata. Of the hope he’d held for her becoming more confident, of her smile, of the fact that he could have been better to her, a parent that made her smile instead of withdraw. He thought of the fact that he would never get to sit with her on their porch and talk calmly about life as he wished he could have, not as he had pictured earlier that day, without Hinata’s uncertain stutter or the uneasiness in her posture. He realized now that the many clan and council meetings that had kept him busy all these years didn’t matter to him whatsoever. All he longed for was for that one thing, his two daughters, smiling at him like they loved him, without the stiffness in their shoulders he was accustomed to. Now it was too late. He would never get the chance to sit with them in the porch happily. If only he had done something earlier… He regretted… so… m…

Notes:

I literally get so much motivation from you guys. I wrote up the last scene that was missing today, after a 6 hour long car drive and subsequently gettin my vaccine (finally! Spain - and esp my province - is so behind other countries ugh) but anywaay yeah. You guys really motivated me into writing up the last scene...

On another note, I strongly encourage you to check out my other fic, The Sixth Shadow, mainly because... yeah. It's controversial. Some people like it, some people don't. Of course, I'm hoping you'll like it... not gonna lie to you, but yeah. If you don't that's cool too I guess. I'd just be happy if you guys checked it out and told me your thoughts. Again, Sakura's part is coming but be patient, need to get a bit of other shit out of the way. It will all come together brilliantly... the grand finalle.

PS: not sure what you guys thought of this whole Hiashi part. Especially the flashback. Was it too long? Did you like it?? I read it to my friend and she found it tragic, so... I needed to add that anti feminism comment or I'd end up making HIashi too nice lol.

Chapter 29: Of Light and Truth pt 1

Notes:

Note: this chapter was originally longer, but I realized 18k was a bit TOO long so I cut it in 2. The 5 people who have already commented got to read the longer part, but they didn't leave any spoilers in the comments so it's fine. As for the rest of you, you'll get the next part next week. :)

 

 

“Iruka-sensei!” Sakura called. Some students were helping to carry him into the Academy building, but he was standing on his own two feet. She was so relieved in that moment, she completely forgot about the ANBU and their questions, and about Tetsuya. She was just glad that her former teacher was okay. Going deeper into the Academy all on her own, leaving Kaori-sensei behind so she could heal Iruka… it hadn’t been an easy choice. Not even close… but it had paid off. Sakura smiled, unrestrained. It was then that Iruka looked up and saw her. His expression brightened, and he slowly shuffled toward her, waving the two kids carrying him off. Sakura intercepted him before he could torture himself by walking any further. By hugging him. Which in hindsight, may not have been the best course of action, but in that moment it didn’t register.

This guy… he had been the first teacher to ever believe in Sakura. Even though he himself may not have known how much she appreciated him… Sakura really did. She remembered him clearly. Back when she’d been shy and stupid, before she’d befriended Ino and grown some confidence, back then he had been the only one to smile at her, to notice she was smart, and tell her so. He hadn’t taught their class during those years, but he had been a substitute teacher a few times, back when their usual sensei couldn’t make it. His simple kindness had meant the world to a six-year-old Sakura back then, and five years later, when he had introduced himself as their new teacher for their last year at the Academy, she had recognized him immediately.

Sakura had been determined not to seem like a teacher’s pet anymore, at that point. She had wanted to be cool; brainiac nerds weren’t cool, so she hadn’t approached Iruka or done much of anything to show him her appreciation. She’d been a little stupid, maybe. But that didn’t mean she’d forgotten it… and when she’d seen him lying there, passed out over a pool of his own blood, her heart had stopped beating for a moment. Iruka was one of those kind people who went around impacting people’s lives – helping them – like it was the most natural thing to do. It was possible he didn’t even remember the shy girl from the back row, the one he had taken aside all those years ago, the one he’d smiled at and said: “you can do it. You can. You’ve got what it takes.” But Sakura remembered, and in that moment, she’d been prepared to return the favor, no matter at what cost. And now he was alive – she was so happy…

To Iruka, it may have seemed strange, the way she couldn’t hold back her tears as she hugged him, that she cared so much… maybe. But Sakura was past the point of embarrassment. Somehow, the knowledge that it had been worth it, that huge risk, the fear, it meant a lot.

“S-Sakura-chan… I’m glad you’re happy to see me,” the man said awkwardly, “but uh… my stomach…”

Sakura let go, completely startled. She’d been totally lost in her own world. “S-sorry.” She stepped back, heat creeping into her cheeks.

“Don’t apologize,” Iruka said, patting his vest with one hand. “Kaori-san did a good job with the injury. I’m feeling much better already.”

Sakura frowned. Even if the injury had been patched, he must have lost a lot of blood, so she doubted he felt fine… but she knew he likely wouldn’t appreciate her calling him out on it. She lowered her gaze and stared at her sandals. “I’m glad you’re okay, Iruka-sensei. Seeing you… like that… was pretty scary, you know?”

Iruka nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Sakura-chan. I know. When I was your age… I lived through something similar. I’m so sorry you kids have to experience this as well.”

Sakura thought for a moment. There was only one event that lined up… “The Kyubi attack?”

Iruka’s face was somber. “Yes. The Kyubi attack.” There was a long silence. “It was terrifying. So many died that day… we were lucky the fourth was able to save us in the last minute.”

The forth hokage… his sacrifice that night had made him the most popular hokage in recent history. The shodaime was a close second, being the founder of the village, but he had lived so long ago that he’d become more of a legend than a tangible person. The yondaime hokage, however, was still someone most adults in the village could remember clearly, someone who had given his absolute everything for Konoha, to keep them all safe… Everyone at the Academy had secretly thought that he was much cooler than the third hokage.

“How do you even do something like that?” Sakura wondered out loud. “Defeat the Kyubi… isn’t that impossible?” The feat was so astounding that she sometimes had trouble wrapping her head around it. That someone so powerful had existed… She hadn’t expected an actual answer from Iruka.

“The yondaime sealed the Kyubi into the body of his newborn child.”

Sakura jumped in place out of surprise. What? Her eyes were wider than dinner plates. She wanted to believe this was a joke, but she knew it wasn’t from the context. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure the yondaime was her favorite hokage anymore…

“Wh – what?” Was the only thing she managed to choke out.

“Yes,” said Iruka. “Imagine that. Living with that monster inside of you, unaware of it… the only one unaware of it.”

“But that’s – that’s horrible!” Sakura exclaimed. “Why would they do that! Why wouldn’t they tell this person about it! Aren’t they the one saving the village every day, just by – by having that thing inside of them?” She could scarcely believe what she was hearing.

Iruka smiled. “That’s… the first time I ever hear anyone putting it like that. Don’t worry,” he added tiredly. “He found out. Not in the best way possible… but he did find out.”

He? So it was a boy… “Do I… do I know him?” Sakura asked. The Kyubi attack had been twelve years ago. If the current host had been a newborn then… now should be around Sakura’s age… what if she knew this person?

“You do know him, Sakura,” Iruka said seriously.

“I do?” she repeated, disbelieving. She knew the yondaime’s son? What?! How did she not realize this before? But most importantly, who the hell was he? The yondaime’s son! Gah, was he serious?!

Iruka chuckled. “You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure.” He squeezed Sakura’s shoulder again. “You’re a good kid, Sakura. Kaori-san told me about what happened earlier. I owe you my life.”

Sakura, who was still shaken over the fact that she apparently knew the yondaime’s son took a moment to process Iruka’s next words. When she did, she was strangely embarrassed. It was weird, hearing something like that from an adult who she’d looked up to for so long.

“Geez, sensei, don’t say stuff like that,” she muttered, cheeks hot. “I-I mean I…” She closed her mouth. How did you even react when someone thanked you like that? ‘You’re welcome’ sounded insufficient, anything else would sound arrogant. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Sakura finished lamely. She really was, though.

“You know, Sakura-chan,” Iruka replied, “I should be the one saying that. You gave me some serious heart palpitations when I saw you going into the Academy. Then Kaori-san got to me and explained you were planning to single-handedly take on the rest of the assailants still in the building… you gave me quite a scare.”

“Um… yeah. I was pretty scared too,” Sakura admitted immediately, then cursed herself for being so uncool as to freely say that.

“Well, I suppose it all worked out in the end.” His voice turned bitter. “It’s great, isn’t it? You managed to beat the shinobi I was completely useless against… so everything is perfect.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “Y-you weren’t useless, sensei! I don’t know what happened, but no way!”

“That I lost, that’s what happened,” Iruka said. “I couldn’t even protect my own students… some teacher I am.”

His words made her gut churn. “Don’t say such things… there were five guys,” Sakura insisted.

“And yet you beat them,” Iruka remarked. “A genin. Fresh out of the Academy.” He sounded like he was holding back a choked sob. “I suppose Hatake really must have been right, huh? I don’t know jackshit about anything, never mind teaching. He… he is clearly the better teacher out of the two of us…”

Sakura was in no way prepared to handle this situation. Iruka’s words hurt – how could he say that kind of thing? Of course Kakashi was one of her favorite people, and though she’d initially doubted his teaching methods, he really tried hard, didn’t he? – but so did Iruka. He was the best teacher the Academy had ever had, damn it.

“Sensei,” Sakura said, voice panicky. “Look, Kakashi-sensei is a jonin sensei. That’s like – different from an Academy sensei. He gets to teach us one on three instead of one in thirty-something. It’s totally different!” Yeah. Not very convincing.

“Yes, Sakura-chan, you’re right,” Iruka said, but she could clearly tell he was just placating her. Damn it…

“Sensei…” She wanted to tell him how much he’d helped her when she was younger, even if he didn’t know it, how Naruto always kept complaining to Kakashi about how Iruka-sensei was much cooler than him, how Kakashi himself very obviously did not like being compared to Iruka… But the words wouldn’t form. Iruka patted her head gently.

“Thank you, Sakura. As I said… you’ve really grown a lot… in such a short amount of time too… I really should be going now, though. The kids and I will be taking refuge inside a shelter hidden beneath the Academy. You’ll join as there, won’t you?”

Sakura stared after him. “It depends on what the ANBU tell me…” In the three or so minutes she and Iruka had been conversing, she had seen the ANBU arguing back and forth about something out of the corner of her eye. That’s right… they were suspicious of her and Tetsuya for some reason…

Iruka seemed a little puzzled. “The ANBU?” He glanced over at her worriedly. “Did you get a field promotion or something?”

Sakura blinked. “Huh?”

“You’ve more than proven your aptitude to take down opponents as strong as chunin,” Iruka explained, teeth gritted. “Personally, I’m against someone so young making chunin, but this is the exact situation in which such things tend to happen.” He looked at her intently. “Sakura, if they tell you to fight, tell them you’re too young. You’re a genin, Sakura-chan. You’ve done more than enough. Come to the shelter with us.”

Sakura nodded hesitantly. She doubted the ANBU actually wanted to promote her or anything like that. Yes, they occasionally looked over at her and Iruka must have noticed that, but he had misunderstood the reason. “I-I’ll join you in the shelter,” Sakura said placatingly.

Iruka scanned her face, as though looking for some kind of hidden bravado to get promoted to chunin and go off galivating on her own. He found none, unsurprisingly. Sakura was too damn scared to feel like doing anything stupid. She’d been wondering for almost a month whether she even wanted to keep being a ninja; there was no way in hell she’d be risking her life for some glory like Iruka seemed to think. The man seemed to read something along those lines in her face, because he finally turned, patting her head briefly, before hobbling away, toward the waiting kids and Kaori-sensei. “I’ll see you at the shelter, Sakura-chan.”

---

As he fought against his erstwhile teacher, Kakashi couldn’t help but remember days long past, when Minato had still been his sensei – couldn’t help but be drawn back to the first time he and the blonde had met. The circumstances had been less than ideal, as it had happened shortly after his father’s death… he remembered how much what had occurred to his father had affected him, how Minato had made the hurt go away… or at least dampened the pain. Kakashi wasn’t sure whether he’d have survived that ordeal if not for the blonde. It had been terrible, he had been so young and unaccustomed to the grief and pain that had followed him for the rest of his life. He remembered how, after his father’s failed mission, had been mad at him for months – for screwing up that stupid mission, for losing all his awesome reputation because of it, for getting replaced by a ghost. Everybody had said his dad was going to cost them the war, that he was a selfish bastard; everybody had whispered and subtly let Kakashi know just how much of a disappointment his father was.

He had felt like a great injustice had been inflicted upon him, he recalled. Why did his dad have to make a stupid mistake? He was supposed to be perfect, Konoha’s elite White Fang. Everybody was supposed to love and admire him… it shouldn’t be like this. The Hatake Sakumo he knew and admired was always proud and straight-backed, confident and sure. He wasn’t supposed to make mistakes, to have people hate him so much that they’d treat him and Kakashi both like trash. Kakashi… couldn’t do much. He was just a kid – but he could feel. He’d felt all sorts of things – he had been scared and ashamed and sad at it all – but mostly he’d been furious. He’d been mad at the old ladies gossiping about his dad on the street, at his classmates who’d previously admired him but would now shoot him derisive looks, at their parents who mumbled bad words behind his back, thinking he couldn’t hear – or perhaps not caring. But most of all he was mad at his dad for not defending himself, for not defending him. 

Picking up Kakashi from the Academy, he must have heard the whispering parents too, seen the looks Kakashi’s classmates kept shooting at him – but instead of standing proud whilst slinging Kakashi upon his shoulders like he had used to, Sakumo had bowed his head and said nothing. They had walked silently home, side by side – yet it had felt like they were worlds apart. He couldn't stop thinking about how his dad hadn’t met the eyes of those gossiping parents, or even their children. Of what those parents had said and how his dad’s hand had trembled on his back as he’d led Kakashi away.

The dishonored White Fang. He too, must know the gravity of what he’d done, they whispered. Just look at him, at those eye bags and posture. It seemed like the pathetic scumbag at least recognized what he was. Suits him right, they crowed, for almost costing Konoha the war. It’d be better if that drunk disgrace just ended it already. 

The words had hurt – but they couldn't compare to his father's reaction. It had challenged some of Kakashi’s most visceral beliefs about what his dad was like. Day after day, his father would pick him up from the Academy and never defend him,  never look anyone in the eyes, like a beat down dog. Then, one day he didn't come. After waiting in the rain for over thirty minutes, Kakashi  had realized this. He’d been forgotten, cast aside.  No one would come to pick him up. Kakashi had begun walking home alone after that – every day. His father hadn’t mentioned it at dinner. The added responsibility was not as exciting as he’d always pictured it to be.

Some days it had all gotten to be too much and he’d said something rude and frustrated to his dad – but he hadn’t really meant it! He’d just been acting petulant. He’d just wanted things to get better… to go back to how they’d used to be. He’d wanted Sakumo to snap out of the weird dazes he got into lately, maybe even get angry at him and defend himself, even if Kakashi had to take the brunt of his fury. It would have been okay. Kakashi had just wanted him to react – anything at all would have been preferred to the emptiness that constantly seemed to follow him, dull grey eyes unnerving… unfocused… wrong. Kakashi had just wanted things to return to how they used to be.

 

The winter was cold and harsh, reflecting Kakashi's mood perfectly. Overcast skies and short days were not conducive to good humor, but with the beginning of spring, Kakashi felt the beginnings of new hope sprout within him. Perhaps, now that everything was brighter and better, his dad would get better too?

He'd been in a good mood all week so much so that he didn't even mind that much when his dad forgot to make breakfast or lunch or showed his face at all. This had happened a few times before, him falling asleep and not waking up for a long time. By dinner Kakashi decided to go look for him, maybe get him to come out to the porch and look at the rabbit den he'd spotted in the garden. And yet dad wasn’t in his room or the living room or the bathroom or the kitchen. After checking everywhere else he could think, he’d gone to the west wing. His father had always avoided it because it contained his mother’s old bedroom, the one both of his parents had used to sleep in before he was born… the one dad never used anymore. 

 

There was a smell in the corridor… unpleasant, disgusting. He had been ignoring it until now, and he kept doing so. Maybe his father had left to the bar or even a mission! Or maybe he’d gone to mom's grave. He should just… 

He went back to the kitchen and ate dinner. He brushed his teeth. He put on his pajamas and went to bed. It had been a long time since his father had tucked him in. Normally, Kakashi was responsible for following his bed time, but that night he felt restless. Against his father’s wishes (who was he kidding, nobody would scold him) he flipped on the light again and paged through a scroll – he would look for dad tomorrow, hopefully by then the smell would be gone. But the stench was getting worse and worse and finally he set the scroll aside and propped himself up. There was no way he could keep ignoring it any longer. It had penetrated up his nostrils and into his bloodstream, slinking into the very marrow of his bones.  Those of Hatake descent had extremely sharp noses; at this rate sleeping would be impossible.

Resigned to some imminent pain in his nostrils, Kakashi crawled out of his futon and folded it carefully, his stomach pooling with dread. It was unreasonable. He wasn’t a little baby anymore – he was six. It was just a smell. Maybe some dead animal had gotten in, he told himself. He’d throw it out and that was that. And yet every part of him told him to turn around. He didn’t. 

 

Earlier, Kakashi had left his mother’s room out of the search for his father before – perhaps because a part of him had known all along what he would find.  Still, the sight of his father’s rigid corpse shocked him down to the very core. It had to be a joke, a trick, a training exercise, he thought wildly, but he didn’t dare step into the room to check.  Kakashi was a logical creature even then and he knew that that made little sense – Sakumo hadn’t trained or played with him in months, and he was sensitive about strong smells. No. What he was seeing was exactly as it appeared.

He was dead. Not murdered or assassinated – dead.

The body of his dead father was sprawled upon the blood-splattered floor, flies buzzing around it noisily. A katana gleamed, reflecting the moonlight that streamed in from the window as it protruded from his stomach. Sepukku. The samurai’s suicide ritual.

Kakashi had known something was wrong even before going into his mother’s old room, but nothing could have prepared him for this. His father – dead. The flies, the blood, the smell, the choice he had made – seppuku.

After standing there for maybe minutes or maybe seconds, his recollection of the night’s events got blurry. Kakashi barely remembered running out of the house still in his pajamas and barefoot, or stepping on glass as he rushed away, away, away. He barely remembered barging into the hokage tower, leaving bloody footprints in his wake and sobbing uncontrollably. He barely remembered explaining much of anything, other than repeating ‘sepukku’, ‘sepukku’, 'sepukku’ like a mantra. The look in the hokage’s eyes said he understood. Someone had sedated him after that.

Even one month after his father’s suicide, Kakashi couldn’t go to sleep at night anymore without seeing his cold body sprawled upon the blood-stained wood whenever he closed his eyes, without smelling that smell. He couldn’t dream anymore, couldn’t get a full night’s sleep. He couldn’t train with Sakumo anymore or count the days until he’d be back from his latest mission. He couldn’t do any of those things – because Sakumo had abandoned him.

The villager’s behavior toward him didn’t improve. In fact, it was as if Sakumo’s death had been kindling thrown into a fire. Where previously people had only whispered about the White Fang’s shameful, pathetic, selfish behavior, now they all talked about it openly. Every gossiping old lady told their neighbor that they’d always known there was something cowardly and dishonorable about that Hatake dog. Drinking himself into a stupor to then commit suicide, and to top it off with his kid at home! It was rumored that the poor boy had found the man in a pool of blood and sake. What a pathetic waste of space he had been! 

Kakashi’s mask, until then vehemently hated, had suddenly become a reprieve – he was harder to recognize with it. His training, which had previously been the way in which he connected with Sakumo, the way in which he strove to impress him when he returned from missions, now became the only thing he had left. He trained constantly, both resenting and missing Sakumo in equal measure, his exertions the only outlet. During those moments, when his body and spirit trembled and his eyes misted, he swore to himself that he would never make the same mistake.

Sakumo had died (had killed himself) for breaking the rules. Everybody said so. Kakashi had always known that the rules were important, but a few times he’d felt tempted to question them sometimes… but if he had learned anything at all from his father’s death then it was this: he would never, ever break a rule again. Any rule.

 

He stopped going to meet up with his sort-of friends at the meadow. At first a part of him missed them. He was all alone, after all – but – he still didn’t go, didn’t want to see their looks of pity – or even worse – disgust. He kept wanting to drop by but then not doing it. He had other things to keep him busy, like being a genin. He was a ninja now.

He wouldn’t make his father’s mistakes in his career, he swore to himself. He’d follow the ninja handbook to a T and then nothing like what Sakumo had gone through would happen to him. He had graduated now and his old friends were just kids. He had better things to do than them now, like training and having endless nightmares.

 

At night, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He cried himself to sleep often.

During the day, he kept his mask on and his feelings off, and surely things would get better if he did that. He had been accustomed to living alone from when his father left on missions, but this was different. He was in charge of his dad’s money now and other things like cooking and cleaning and bills and… he felt anxiety just thinking about it. He knew he’d have to pay some kind of bills for electricity and hot water and heat and all that later on, but he didn’t know how or where or when to do it. Money wasn’t an issue, his father had never lacked it, but he still got nervous thinking about what if he suddenly ran out or someone scammed him?

 

He had spent the first week after That Night with another family – the Sarutobi household – the first week after his dad had died. Then he’d graduated the Academy and the hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had told him that he was welcome to stay with them, though he could become independent now too if he wanted, seeing as he was now a genin – legally an adult. Kakashi had jumped at the chance of being alone. Asuma’s constant invasive presence and probing questions had been stifling, his mom’s mothering unwanted, the pitying looks they all kept shooting at him less than welcome.

“I will return home,” he’d told the hokage immediately. The more Hiruzen had insisted to the contrary, the stronger Kakashi’s determination to be left alone.

 

Of course, he had regretted that decision almost immediately… he hated living alone, hated the empty spaces and the silent estate. At that point he'd have agreed to live with anyone, but his pride kept him from going back to the Sarutobi household. He missed his dad… he missed his two friends but didn’t know how to reach out. He felt so, so alone. He wanted to be independent and strong and rule-abiding, but he wanted a hug too and a good night’s sleep and some excuse to leave this stifling estate where his dad had killed himself, but he couldn’t let himself look weak, he couldn’t, didn’t even know how – and he didn’t know what to do.

 

And that was when Minato had come in. In the middle of the worst period of his life, the blonde had broken through Kakashi’s walls of misery like a ray of sunshine in the winter. It went like this: he had picked up the habit of going to the central market in Konoha, even though it was very far from the Hatake Estate, which was located at the village’s outskirts. He told himself it was just because the central market was better than the small shop he’d used to frequent, even though he’d never bothered to go there Before.

At the market, he would dawdle and soak in the people and chatter, floating through the lively atmosphere. It made the loneliness starker but also duller. Before, he had loved to have his peace and quiet, but now silences haunted him. Now the noises of people had become a balm. He often just walked around the stalls, peering at the wares and at the people and listened . He didn’t do anything else. A part of him had hoped to maybe run into someone he liked there… but of course he never did. He should have known that none of his classmates would be there, of course. If he had really wanted to find them, he knew he could, but somehow he didn’t.

 

He was shaken out of his musings when the blond man appeared again. Kakashi and the blond man had coincided a few times in the market already. The blonde would often sit on a bench and do nothing in particular, though he’d sometimes bring books to snicker at, or chat up girls and vendors alike when they passed him by. The blonde man had a radiant smile and people seemed to love him, Kakashi had noticed. A part of him wanted to be mad at him for that, for having something he so sorely wanted but didn’t have, not any longer, not after that mission – but he mostly found himself being unable to muster up much resentment.

Sometimes, Kakashi wondered why the blond man would spend so much time at the market, just like him. Was he lonely too? Did his family leave him behind like Kakashi’s father? Despite himself, he’d gotten curious. He had made a habit of going to the market every day and he’d started getting to know the regulars. During his excursions, Kakashi always wore bland clothes and the mask so that he wouldn’t be noticed as much, but he in turn did notice the people, and the blonde man was often there – except sometimes when he left on missions, or so Kakashi assumed. The blonde man was a ninja.

He’d never dared to approach, but today he felt tired… so he sat down on the bench across the blonde to eat an apple he’d bought. He tried to divine what the man was reading, to subtly glance at his book’s cover… but he got caught looking. The blonde gave him a smile, then returned to his book. Kakashi didn’t dare to look again but his heart pounded. A while later, the blonde was cornered by some civilian ladies who wanted his opinion on some of their wares and ushered him away. Finally, Kakashi dared to steal another glance, then stood up and stretched, readying to go back to the estate.

 

That smile… it had struck him like a punch to the gut. How long since anyone had just… smiled at him? He couldn’t remember the last time. Lately, he was always alone, and when he wasn’t, all he saw in people’s eyes was either disinterest or distaste, depending on whether they recognized him or not. Sometimes there was pity in the case of his father’s former friends like the hokage. 

Missions weren’t any better. In fact, he found that he hated the whole thing. Without fail, he always got passed around the genin teams, mostly replacing recently deceased members, and was never liked by the other integrants. He wasn’t sure if it was because they knew his reputation, because he was so much younger (and better, he privately thought) than them, or because he was the replacement of their dead friends. Yes, Kakashi thought. Nobody had smiled at him in a long, long time… He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until that very moment.

 

The next day, he sat on the bench across the blonde again… and the day after too. He always noticed when the man was gone on missions and he… it wasn’t like he was stalking him or anything, but the man – Minato, the old ladies called him – would always smile that warm smile at him, and Kakashi… Kakashi cherished it. He mustn't know who he was, that Minato. A part of him feared what would happen if he found out… would he start glaring at Kakashi if he did?

 

One day, Minato sat down next to him. Kakashi froze and almost bolted… but the blonde just pulled a book out of his pouch and calmly began to thumb through it, like always. He talked to the merchants like always too, and Kakashi slowly relaxed. The week afterward, when Minato returned from what must have been a mission, he sat next to Kakashi again, surprising him once more, but he relaxed quicker than last time.

 

“Mind if I take one?” Minato asked, peering at him from over his book. “Those oranges look mouth-watering.”

Kakashi startled and looked at Minato suspiciously. “You’re an adult. You shouldn’t be asking kids to give you their oranges.”

The blonde’s lips quirked into that smile again and Kakashi almost forgot he was supposed to be acting pissed-suspicious. “Yeah, but aren’t you one too?” Minato asked with a chuckle. “A legal adult? I’ve heard about you, you’ve made genin, haven’t you?”

Kakashi was startled for two reasons: one – adults never acknowledged he was independent and two – Minato knew who he was! And he still smiled at him?

“I guess you can have an orange,” Kakashi decided, handing it over.

Minato laughed. “Thanks, kiddo. Also, I was going to say that I would pay you back before you interrupted me.” He chuckled. “You’re always here, so I figured I’d treat you next time we meet.”

Next time.

Kakashi’s breath hitched. “S-sure. I mean whatever, it’s just an orange.”

The blonde chuckled. “So you don’t want to get treated, huh? Well, I guess it’s no sweat off my back…”

“That’s not what I said!” Kakashi exclaimed, wide-eyed. He took it back! He wanted to meet with Minato again!

The blonde teen laughed, suddenly reaching out to give him a mighty head ruffle. “Alright, alright. I’ll treat you to some dango then, I think.”

“I don’t like sweets,” Kakashi informed, crossing his arms, but secretly wishing for another head-ruffle.

“You say that now … but have you tried the fried eggplant with honey?” the blonde prodded happily. “Maki-baa makes ones to die for!”

“Eggplant,” Kakashi repeated dubiously, “with honey ? What kind of crazy person would make a sweet out of eggplant ?”

Minato smirked at him. “Just you wait. You’re going to be blown away, Kakashi!”

“H-hey! How do you know my name,” Kakashi muttered. “Stalker.”

The blonde chuckled. “Kid, I’m a master infiltrator. Knowing these things is pretty much my job.”

“Yeah, well you look like a girl,” Kakashi spluttered, embarrassed for some reason. “And way too young.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m nineteen and my looks are great for making people underestimate me, so… peace!”

“You’re weird,” Kakashi declared.

“Ah, wait till you try the eggplant. You’ll join the dark side soon.”

“Right.”

---

Fighting Minato now, Kakashi found, was actually not much like what fighting him had been like as a child. Yes, there were some parallels, but the longer the battle between them progressed, the more differences he saw.

For example, as a child, he had always admired Minato for his strength and kindness – even during battle, the blonde had been fair and forgiving, had never inflicted any of the more terrible or gory injuries upon his opponents. As an ANBU, Kakashi had not been able to fight like that. He had compared himself to Minato time and time again, had despaired over the fact that he couldn’t afford to play nice like his sensei, had felt dirty at the things he’d been forced to do at times – pushing into the eyes until reaching the brain with his fingers, strangulating the enemy with his legs, paralyzing them permanently with injuries to the spinal cord – and many more.

Each time such a thing happened he beat himself over it for days or even weeks, telling himself that was the last time, that he wouldn’t resort to such methods again, that even if he was in ANBU he owed at least that much to Minato-sensei’s memory – and yet whenever his life was at risk again, despite the fact that he wouldn’t have minded dying, his instincts would step in and he’s end up sullying himself again with such despicable acts. He had thought often that Minato-sensei would be disgusted if they met again, if he could see some of the things Kakashi had done. His sensei had always been such a pure soul… someone so kind and caring that no one, not even Kakashi, had been able to resist being drawn into him like a magnet.

And yet – Minato wasn’t fighting the way he remembered at all. Every few seconds he would shout ‘neck’ or ‘spinal cord’ or even ‘eyes’ paired with warning exclamations and Kakashi would have to force himself to dodge the sort of assaults he had so hated inflicting upon others. Just… what was this? Was the reanimation changing the way sensei fought? He didn’t… he refused to understand. All he could think about was that, somehow,  after those first times in the market, Kakashi and Minato had kept meeting… and Kakashi had waited constantly for the other shoe to drop, for Minato to stop showing, but the man never did. He had never started to avoid him, never made shifty eyes or pretended not to know him when someone important was near; Minato never stopped being kind. 

His kindness was like a jackhammer; it broke every single one of his walls down, to the point where Kakashi had found himself missing the blonde fiercely whenever he was gone on missions, which was sadly rather often, though he never admitted to it. Sometimes, Minato would return looking very tired, not physically but – psychologically. Something there would be a grim aura about him, a clench to his jaw, a shadow beneath his eyes. And yet, when they met during those days, Kakashi noticed how the blonde would look better, happier whenever they parted ways a few hours later, and it made Kakashi indescribably happy in turn. It filled him with pride that he wasn’t just a chore to the blonde, that he was appreciated back – just as much as Kakashi appreciated him.

Life continued and things got easier to bear… or maybe Kakashi just got used to them. He got used to his nightmares, used to the silence, used to the glares. Like all shinobi worth their salt, Kakashi adapted. He stopped getting crawls just from looking at the Hatake estate, though he still avoided the west wing like the plague. He completed D-ranks with ease and watched as other genin got sent out to the field and didn’t come back. He got used to being a replacement for the dead genin too… there were many. Still, a part of him wished he could have his own team, his own sensei. He wanted it so badly… Why couldn’t he have what everyone else did? He surmised that none of the jonin wanted to get stuck with the little kid, with the White Fang’s spawn. He understood. He still wished though.

Autumn came and went and the days got colder. Less people visited the market now, but Kakashi still went religiously. Despite his pride, he had finally worked up the courage to ask Minato how to deal with taxes and bills… even though he’d hated doing it, because he was afraid Minato would think he was a little kid after all if he asked. But the blonde hadn’t done that. He’d gone into long-winded, excited explanations on book-keeping, tax-paying, old fogies who might try to mess up his taxes so he needed to check everything over carefully, remember that, Kakashi!, and most importantly, what Minato had happily dubbed ‘money-saving ninja skills’. Kakashi had never enjoyed learning about anything more, but maybe that was because it was Minato who was teaching him.

One day, Minato showed him how to fish in order to save money. Another day he invited Kakashi to a training ground and taught him how to season said fish. Then, the week after they went to the woods and they cooked a rabbit. Minato would often give him tips on how to save money whilst doing all of this, though Kakashi privately thought that the blonde wouldn’t really need to follow his own advice since merchants were constantly gifting him their wares or inviting him over. At the beginning, Kakashi had wondered why everyone liked Minato so much, but now he understood. Minato was special… he was… sometimes, Kakashi couldn’t believe that someone like that would bother to give him the time of day. It was... the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

 

Over the years, he had gotten used to always having Minato there to lean on. He had gotten used to many things; this was the only positive. Something else that oddly cheered him up was that someone had taken up the nasty habit of drawing odd preschooler figures on his window when it was fogged up from the cold, or with crayons and chalk during the summer. Kakashi had been trying to catch the perpetrator ever since they'd begun, thinking that it might have been one of his old sort of-maybe friends, but never managed. When he had grumbled about it halfheartedly to Minato one day, the blonde had burst out laughing.

“Ah, the henohenomoheji? That was me!”

“What?” repeated Kakashi dubiously. “You’re the person who draws them? But they look like they were made by a preschooler!”

“Ah, I guess it’s a habit, from when my siblings were still… anyway, yeah! I’m not an artist, that’s for sure,” Minato told him sheepishly. “But I wasn’t trying to bother you, I promise. The henohenomoheji were just my way of telling you that I’d returned to the village after a mission, Kakashi. I always stop by your place to sketch a quick one on my way to the tower.”

“Oh.” The tower was on the other side of the village. Kakashi gulped. He felt happy Minato went out of his way like that, he really did, but… a part of him had hoped…

“Kakashi? What’s with that look?” Minato asked softly. “I… didn’t know it would upset you. I’ll stop, I promise.”

“No, don’t,” Kakashi mumbled.

“Kakashi? Is everything… alright?” Minato’s deep blue eyes were filled with concern and Kakashi felt the coldness that had spread in his gut thaw.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It hadn’t been his old friends, after all. He only had Minato.

The blonde man nodded slowly. “Well… I have some news that will cheer you up! I applied to be a jonin sensei. How’s that for cool?”

Kakashi frowned. “A… a jonin sensei?” Hope lit up within him. “Does that mean… you’ll…?”

“Yep! You’re my student now, Kakashi! Hope you’re not too put off by this pretty face.”

Kakashi’s lips split into a large grin, his cheeks hurting from the rare action. The mask would cover it, but Minato had never had any issue with reading his expressions before. Smiling brightly, the blond teen lurched forward to give him one of those wild head-ruffle noogies Kakashi adored so much.

“I guess it could be worse,” he muttered, failing rather spectacularly at hiding his excitement.

“Don’t get coy with me, Kakashi! I’m your sensei now and what kind of pupil lies to their sensei!”

“Sh-shut up, Minato… sensei.”

“Awww! And he’s blushing! I need to take a picture!”

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

---

“Kakashi – eyes!” Minato’s words shook him out of his memories and he was forced to dodge a crippling blow yet again. He didn’t understand. Sensei kept going for his neck, more than any other person would, reaching out with deft, lightning-quick fingers every time Kakashi relaxed, had managed to brush his jugular once already – he was sure that if not for Minato’s verbal warnings, he would have already been strangled or had his neck snapped at this point. And that thought – it was just so chilling. How could Minato-sensei fight like that? Why was he doing it? The horrible suspicion of – what if Minato-sensei had always fought like that, in such a… dirty, horrible, despicable way – kept appearing in his brain. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal. Kakashi himself resorted to targeting those areas when things got complicated. Hell, Momochi Zabuza had even bragged about doing it, most elite ninja took that style of combat for granted – but Kakashi just couldn’t wrap his head around Minato-sensei fighting like that too. He was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be good. He was supposed to be above such things.

“Kakashi – watch out! – what’s with that face?” the man questioned. “You look so downtrodden all of a sudden. Am I not living up to your standards?”

He had asked the question with amusement, as a joke, but Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to laugh. “Sensei… have you always fought like this?”

The man’s face slackened, as though surprised. “I… yes, Kakashi.”

Despite himself, Kakashi’s eyes widened. So it was true? “You… but you never fought like that when we were there.”

“Of course not,” said Minato. “You were kids. I know you thought you were very mature at the time, Kakashi – and you were – but I didn’t want to put you through that on top of everything. I wanted to be a good role model.”

“We were in a war,” Kakashi said blankly.

“Can you fault me for it?” Minato retorted. “If you became a sensei, wouldn’t you try to hold back in front of your students too, if possible? Wouldn’t you want them not to think of you as a monster?”

A… a monster? What was he saying?

“Sensei, we would have never thought that.”

“I did unspeakable things, Kakashi,” Minato said. “I have a body count larger than most any shinobi alive, and I lived only twenty-six years. You don’t get there by being Mr Nice Guy. Or at least… not always.”

“No!” Kakashi snapped. He had never, ever thought of Minato in such a light. Would never.

He remembered hearing about Minato’s feats during the war though. When he and the blonde had met, Minato had been an infiltrator, not really a combatant, but then he’d become a jonin sensei out of nowhere and started taking missions that involved fighting, and suddenly everyone was talking about how strong he was. Kakashi had been super proud at the beginning. He had never thought Minato to be particularly strong, but when he’d found out how much of a big deal he was, it had been like the icing on top of the cake. His happiness at getting Minato as a new sensei had only been dampened by the fact that his two new teammates behaved like immature little kids constantly …or so he had told himself at the time. In hindsight, Kakashi knew that he had just been upset that his alone time with Minato had ended. He’d been insecure that they would be more likable than him… he had known he wasn’t very charming, to say the least.

Obito and Rin… his two best friends. He had Minato to thank for meeting them as well. He remembered how impressed the three of them had been when they’d heard of Minato’s successful incursion deep into Iwa territory. Their sensei had left them in the village every now and then, as he had been forced to go on important missions for the war, and Kakashi at least had always worried something would happen to him whilst they were stuck in Konoha doing nothing (it was one of the reasons why he’d worked so hard to get promoted) but that day – when Minato had returned – he had become a war hero. He remembered all the stories they had heard about that battle. That Minato-sensei had commandeered a troop of elite jonin into enemy territory, but they’d encountered a secret facility and sensei had been forced to fight over a hundred men all on his own, but he had still come out the victory.

Those who had fought in the legendary Battle of Igarashi, as it was later called, had all said that Minato had moved so quickly and decisively that he had barely even been visible to the naked eye – like a yellow flash. His name had become legendary after that.

Kakashi remembered how he, Obito and Rin had pestered the man after that. Well, Kakashi himself, though very curious, hadn't wanted to ask – he’d recognized the tired look in sensei’s eyes as the same one he had used to get a lot when he was younger – but Obito had steamrolled over his protests and inquired to know all about the Igarashi Battle, with Rin nodding avidly in the background.

Kakashi remembered his sensei’s sheepish, fake smile and how it had confused him a little. He didn’t remember being particularly horrified or even understanding what it had meant that the man had murdered over a hundred and fifty shinobi in the span of forty minutes, he thought he’d understood the cause for the forced smile – that sensei must be feeling the weight of new responsibility, of leading even bigger squads from now on, of getting a huge bounty on your head in every bingo book out there – but he hadn’t understood at all. Not really.

“Ah, well… I had a vendetta I needed to take care of, Obito-kun,” Minato-sensei had said at last, ruffling the Uchiha’s head. He had refused to speak further on the matter – but this alone had been all but fuel to the fire. Even Kakashi had burned with curiosity about sensei’s vendetta – it had sounded so cool when he said that – and he, Obito and Rin had found themselves discussing at length what it could have been about. Too many Iwa shinobi had died during the Battle of Igarashi to draw any real conclusions, though they had paged through every bingo book entry on Iwa focusing on mean-looking S-ranked Iwa shinobi that could have been sensei’s object of revenge.

Kakashi had almost forgotten about that time, those simpler days… even if nothing about that had been simple. They had, now that he thought about, never really figured out what the deal with the vendetta had been – perhaps Minato-sensei had just made that up to divert their attention… it sounded like something he might have done.

Sensei was right though. Looking back… there was no way he could have been as perfect as Kakashi had always pictured him as. No man could make it as high as Minato-sensei had without a shadow side, Kakashi had learned this long ago… and yet he had never, until now, reconciled that knowledge with his mental image of Minato-sensei. Still, if this – right now – was his real way of fighting, then Kakashi was glad Minato-sensei had held back. He knew his teenage self would have attempted to emulate him. He feared what might have become of him, if during all those years in ANBU he had felt no remorse about some of his killings.

“You’re right,” he found himself saying. “I… I am a sensei now too. My team and I encountered an S-ranked threat. I… could have killed him more easily if I had done certain things, but I refused to in front of the kids.” He still wasn’t sure whether his holding back on Zabuza – especially during their first encounter – had been wise, though he didn’t say that out loud. Things could have gone south easily, and he often laid wide awake at night thinking about what he would do if he encountered another S-ranked threat during a mission with the kids. What was the right thing to do? Ending it quickly or risking more danger to keep them from seeing how cruel his methods could get when pushed? Often he had blamed himself for being selfish; he didn’t want the kids to think of him as a monster, to look at him with the hate he saw in the mirror every day, like he deserved – but Minato doing the same, making the same choice – it put things into perspective, made his actions better somehow… he was grateful suddenly, grateful that Minato-sensei wasn’t as perfect as he had always imagined. It lifted some kind of weight off his shoulders.

“You – you’re a sensei now?” Minato asked, beginning to smile. “That is fantastic! I – Kakashi I can’t tell you how happy I am for you! I had feared you might waste away in ANBU until your retirement or…”

Death. He didn’t need to say it.

“Sandaime-sama forced me to quit,” Kakashi admitted. He would always be grateful to the man for that. He knew that he had been ANBU’s best. The choice couldn’t have been easy.

Minato smiled. “I’ll have to thank him if I can.” The expression dimmed then after a moment. “I had feared… never mind.”

---

 

“Oi, Río. Over here.” 

Río was surprised to find herself face to face with Danzo all of a sudden. She’d been helping with the various battles, weaving in and out of the chaos, juggling the act of keeping an eye on her father, plus the two kids, Yann and her own problems, when the elder of all people ambushed her to talk.

She remembered seeing him from the vents… but admittedly his presence had kind of slipped her mind since then.

“Ah, Danzo-sama,” Río said, glancing distractedly at Sai and Hinata’s fight. “It’s great that you’re…” she forced herself to look away from the two and at Danzo’s lacking arm and singed half-face, “never mind.”

Danzo was not amused. “I have seen better days.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“In any case, I wanted to inform you of my location, since I know you likely hadn’t noticed the high-level genjutsu I’ve been hiding under..”

“Ah… right.” Río frowned. She hadn’t, not that she’d been looking for him. It would be a problem for her if he were killed in the altercation, but she was not about to leave the fighting to someone else. She thought briefly. “I could tell Shoma to escort you out. No one would notice in the chaos.”

Danzo shook his head. “No. I will remain.” She fought to hide her surprise. That was not Danzo’s style. He revealed darkly: “You see, I am biding my time…”

“Ah…” she replied slowly. It had looked more like he was hiding under a genjutsu to her, but okay.

“And then I will kill Orochimaru when he least expects it! He will pay for disturbing Tobirama-sama’s eternal rest like this!”

“That is… nice.” Not really. Danzo dying right then would be a pain in the neck for her… hopefully he would continue ‘biding his time’ until the fight was over. Río glanced at him, trying to gouge how serious he was about killing Orochimaru but had a hard time. She knew he was a huge coward, but he was alsovery fanatic in regards to anything concerning the second hokage… so which one was it? Would he fight?But there was no point in just wondering about it – she needed to get back to the battle – now. “I’m sure your strategy will pay off, Danzo-sama,” Río said slowly. “But let me know should you want to be escorted out. I have to rejoin the othersnow–” she turned, only to find herself face to face with an unamused nidaime.

Río jumped back, horrified, but this did not change the fact that Tobirama bloody Senju was standing. Right. There.

“Danzo” the man said, thankfully ignoring her existence. She inched slowly further away from him.

“Tobirama-sensei!” Danzo exclaimed.

“I attempted to pick the strongest opponent,” the nidaime said solemnly, “however I have finished them off already. I was trying to avoid you and Saru but it seems that I don’t have a choice unless I want to find myself slaughtering everyone else first.”

Wow. The man was a ray of sunshine.

“Sensei,” Danzo said, appearing awe-struck and horror-struck in equal measure. “That’s… very thoughtful of you… but as you can see, I am not in a good fighting condition…”

“A shame,” mused Tobirama, frowning at Danzo’s stump. “What are you doing then?”

“He’s biding his time,” Río couldn’t help but say from her corner. Tobirama turned to stare at her and she almost immediately regretted speaking up. Damn her smart mouth! Thankfully, Danzo didn’t seem to have picked up on her ironic tone, nodding along seriously. “Yes, it’s my strategy to terminate the man who started all this – with a sneak attack.”

“Right,” said Tobirama. He glanced at Río, wrinkling his nose as though he had smelt something foul. “That your student?”

Why, oh why did she have to say anything?

“Yes,” Danzo supplied, a calculating look entering his eye.

“No,” Río said automatically.

They’d spoken at the same time. Tobirama gave them a puzzled look. Danzo turned to glare at her in a ‘I’m going to wring your neck’ fashion. Río crossed her arms but kept her mouth shut.

“Ah, she is my student, sensei…” Danzo quickly filled the silence. “Such an odd sense of humor she’s got!” The elder tittered nervously.

“I see…” replied the nidaime, giving Rio another dubious look. She did her best to appear as disappointing and lame as possible.

“She’s a woman,” Tobirama commented.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” she burst out, then froze, promptly drawing her chakra back into herself to appear mousy and harmless again, but the damage was already done.

“Hmp,” Tobirama grunted, “I don’t like fighting women but I suppose she will do. Danzo, you had better have trained her well.”

“You have nothing to worry about, sensei,” Danzo replied smarmily.

Meanwhile, Río wanted to bash her skull against the wall repeatedly. Why did she have to open her stupid mouth? She knew damn well that she was nowhere near the level where she could fight that guy and live to tell the tale, sexist pig or not. The man’s quietness upon his arrival had caught her attention immediately… and the more silent a ninja during combat, the more she mentally increased her estimation of their threat-level… which said a lot about her chances against the nidaime.

She turned to stare with horror at Danzo, hoping that the man would get the message and retract his words, but he just gave her a solemn nod and crossed his arms.

“Well?” said Tobirama, settling into a battle stance she did not recognize. “Are you ready?”

Fuck no. She shook her head slowly, bile raising to her throat.

The man seemed thrown by this answer, glancing at a dismayed-looking Danzo for help, then back at her. “What?”

Well, it was true. He was the second hokage, for Pete’s sake. She held no illusions as to her chances against him. Thus, her only possible course of action was obvious: run for her damn life and pray to the kami for mercy.

“Oi!” she heard Tobirama exclaim “she left! Danzo, what is the meaning of this?” and then there was a panicked “Río, what are you doing” from the elder in question, and a “I’m sure this is just her battle strategy, sensei” – but she was not dumb enough to try and play it cool just because Danzo wanted to score some brownie points from his idol.

“Get back here, woman!” Tobirama shouted, and to her dismay, took off after her. He had apparently decided that he would rather be chasing her around than picking another opponent… great. Now if only she could keep him busy and also away from her and her squad, that would be appreciated.

Unfortunately, this was not a possibility. Tobirama had pounced after her like some kind of water demon unleashed from the depths of the deepest ocean cave. It was one of the most terrifying things she’d seen thus far, and she had seen Minato-san when he got mad, so…

 

Notes:

I know this ending doesn't feel all that gripping, but that's because i cut the chapter into 2. Still, I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts on this anyway. next part has a pretty poignant situation with regards to sakura, so...

answers ffnet questions:

 

"Oh, you MONSTER.
I should have seen it coming. I should have SEEN that getting all this Hiashi backstory and making us empathise so much with this character was inevitably leading up to a brutally quick and tragic ending.
And making a point of his last thoughts being of Hanabi and Hinata... AARRGH"

 

 

 

 

If you're calling me a monster it means I'm doing something right :D It actually feels like the best compliment anyone could give me for this hehe. I literally hadn't planned to give HIashi so much backstory but... here we are. Somehow it happened anyway. ANd I got elevated to monster for my efforts ^O^/

Honestly I'd been planning to kill off Hiashi since the very beginning. It's actually one of the only things I haven't changed my mind on since I came up with this story almost a year and a half ago (and has it really been THAT long?!) but yeah. If you want an explanation, here it is: shoving character development down HInata's throat. Lol. Yeah, I am a bit evil.

 

"Whouhou the chocolate is back! [...]
I don't mind us drifting away from Sakura. The Tower battle is so epic, how can one not be under the spell? Ino's side-story pales in comparison but I loved the stag scene. Chihiro's arrival I hope will be for the best. Unsure what invading Jonin are doing in greenhouses, or stealing from the Hyuuga compound for that matter, even if there are rare plants, if you're in the middle of an invasion why bother stealing before the battles are over? That's reckless because you let your guard down and you risk damaging what you stole with the next fight?"

 

Eh, I don't know either, but this is the case for most hostile takeovers. There's always your typical a**holes who are both greedy and cowardly and decide that the best way to avoid open combat and also get rich is to go to some suburban area and start stealing while hoping not to run into any trouble. It's a pretty common thing in wars in general, so I figured it wouldn't be out of place to have some sound chums taking advantage of the fact that the Hyuga compound is empty to steal as much as they can.

 

"Now onto Hiashi... I'm a big sucker for the guy and loved that backstory. It was heart-melting to see a teenage love crush turn into dust for Hiashi because of bad luck and of his upbringing (because even if he had snatched Chihiro, he still would have thought he was doing her a favour by choosing her plus he's probably a believer in Fate like Neji that he couldn't have her because of their respective standings). I live that he then commit to his wife, noble character.
When Hiashi persevered with the fight I thought "come on the guy's not learning from his mistakes and still go for it out of misplaced pride", but you hint that he's the strongest amongst the clan heads therefore he takes on the battle to occupy the Nidaime longer and avoid the others getting crushed. I liked that.
Against all odds, I hope he will survive. For example if the Nidaime finds a loophole in the resurrection technique that he can incapacitate rather than kill if Oro is not specific enough in his command. Something like that.
Hiashi realises with his dying breath how important his daughters are and what a great way to make Hinata blossom than to give Hiashi a second chance so that she can have her father's redeeming attention? If he dies, she's gonna get eaten alive by the Hyuuga Elders and the expectations of a clan she's not ready to shoulder yet. At least when he's alive and ignoring her everyone's else does so she has room to progress. So yes I really hope he survives."

 

Ohoho... so much to impact. First off, I'm super happy you liked the Hiashi part! It was a deviation from 'the usual' stuff I write about and I do think writing it both helped me grow & was also a culmination of the growth I've been doing as an author lately, so I'm pretty darn pleased with it. And also pretty darn pleased you liked it.

His crush turning to dust wasn't just bad luck as you put it, but also him actively working to help Chihiro. Remember when he went to look for her at his village after her desperate letter? If he had stayed in Konoha, Chihiro might very well not have met Inoichi and Hiashi might have gotten to have his romance moment with her, if say, he had her as a guest in his house, he would have had ample opportunity to make a move on her... but because he cared about her so much, because he left to look for her, he paradoxically missed his chance. Am I evil? Kinda.

As for Hinata being thrown to the wolves by Hiashi's death... that's kind of the idea, mate ^^

Chapter 30: Of Light and Truth pt 2

Summary:

And we get to the 'truth' part of the chapter.

Notes:

Honestly, sorry for the confusion to anyone who read this in the first 1-2 hours of posting. I originally posted the entire 19k chapter, then realised what a behemoth of a chapter this was, and decided that the sensible thing was to split it into two parts... And still some people complained that part one was short? Guys, don't be spoiled! 'tis holds my sweat and tears, dontcha know?

Here you go.

One may think that, being able to read people’s surface thoughts, Río would have a significant advantage against an opponent like Tobirama, who was a very strategic individual. One would be wrong. The man’s thoughts were… well. Río had been inside the many and varied heads of elite ninja across all the shinobi nations, but never had she encountered anything remotely similar to… this. It felt akin to listening to a crazy person mumble nonstop intelligibly fast in a complete monotone. To make things worse, he was a very visual individual so at times he wasn’t even thinking, just picturing random shit that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the current battle – at least initially. She did figure out why he had been thinking of grilled fish the hard way, after nearly being impaled with a naginata as if she were a wild salmon. When he wasn’t picturing outlandish things that seemed to make no sense, the nidaime’s mind wasn’t much better, to be honest.

‘I figure I could throw one kunai at a thirty-degree angle so it impacts on that nook, the calculations for the hiraishin are rather straight forward at such a short distance – she would likely dodge left, then I can feint and substitute with a clone…’

‘Maybe I should throw it at a forty five degree angle instead. In that case, the calculation slightly varies… I could also just use a water bullet, forcing her back… then there would be no need for a clone.’

She could barely make out what the hell kind of impressions were whizzing through his brain before his thoughts switched gears and he was already pondering something else. Even despite all this, she was not about to let go of her one sort-of-maybe advantage over the guy and milked his thoughts for all they were worth (hint: a migraine) in order to dodge his attacks without getting skewered.

This soon came in handy when the man had begun making handsigns for a technique which, according to his thoughts, ‘has a high chance of terminating Danzo’s student, I fear’. 

Well, yikes. She jumped back, but it was too late. With a few hand signs, Tobirama created a gigantic tidal wave which surged forth from where he was standing with a terrifying roar, and then proceeded to destroy everything in its path. People around her started screaming and scrambling for cover. Río just… stood there for a moment and stared.

What. She wasn’t one to brag, but she was pretty darn good at water jutsu. And yet this – this monster wave – was just – holly shit. Where was he even getting all that chakra from? He was directly using the air to produce water, which was much harder and more taxing than simply using water that was close by and –

Shaking herself, she looked around for anywhere at all she could flee, but no place was high enough to escape the wave. What the hell should she do?

In a last, panicked ditch-attempt, she took out two kunai, a wire and some chewing gum and got to work. She managed to stick two kunai tied to the ends of a wire to the room’s opposing walls, the tsunami crashing toward her as she climbed upon (and clung) to the makeshift tightrope for dear life, hoping for the best. She was really glad she’d come up with that kunai sticking technique involving chakra-infused chewing gum all those years ago. Oh, and thank kami for Kakashi’s rapid chewing technique as well. Hopefully, the kunai and wire would stay in place… unfortunately she wasn’t so sure about herself. The only rope she’d had in her pouch was a chakra blocker.

By then, the monster wave was upon her, its deafening roar engulfing her, a blinding whiteness of it crashing open all she could see. A beat, then another. She closed her eyes. And then the thing hit her, though she was lucky to be high up enough that it washed by quickly. She managed not to get dragged under somehow, though the welts on her hands and the weird rope imprint crisscrossing all over her body were painful. Then the wave washed by, she was somehow still alive, though the entire tower shook something fierce with the impact of it crashing against the wall directly behind her, taking many Suna and Oto nin with it (but curiously none of Konoha). It was just her luck that the nidaime had to have picked her for target practice. Shakily still from the sheer horror of that thing, slightly hysteric that she had in fact survived that thing due to the fortuitous use of chewing gum, Río dragged herself up to a standing position upon the rope and surveyed the damage below her. The nidaime had effectively halved the enemy forces in one fell swoop. She herself felt a great burn in her palms, now swollen and red from clinging to the rope. She probably looked ridiculous blowing on them furiously but at this point she didn’t care. Anything to ease the burn!

In her periphery, she noticed that she was the only nin in the vicinity to have survived it. Many of the Suna and Oto nin had tried to cling to the walls to dodge the wave but had had their skulls bashed in. A bunch of them had been smart enough to jump up and cling to her rope instead, but none had been able to hold on without chakra. One poor Oto nin still clung to her rope for dear life, but now that the wave was gone, he attempted to stand upon the wire, as she was doing, but the rope was a chakra blocker and he would have to balance upon it without the aid of chakra. The poor guy didn’t stand a chance. He was stocky, wearing heavy equipment and henceforth crashed to his death.

Río was just getting around to heaving a relieved, slightly shuddery, slightly hysterical sigh when the demon himself appeared behind her, perching casually upon the flimsy rope. How even– was there anywhere at all he couldn’t follow her? Literally anywhere at all? He was wearing a twenty pound armor, for god’s sake! His presence on the rope should not be possible!

The following minutes boiled down a quick bout of her scrambling around the rope, dodging attacks from the man, which became increasingly harder as he began to use his hiraishin in order to move around the rope faster, which Río countered by adding even more ropes for them to balance around on… which in fact Tobirama was able to balance on like a squirrel on steroids so so much for that. There was literally nothing she could best him at. It was as she was doing a great trapeze artist impression that she saw a bunch of clan heads gawking at them from the corner of her eye. Couldn’t they help her out a little? She was not exactly fairing well here! The lack of a heavy armor on her part should have given her a significant advantage by all rights, and yet the damn nidaime kept dominating their fight even now. She was more of a ‘wait-the-enemy-out’ type of combatant, but even she had her limits, and this was maddening.

When she least expected it, the damn nidaime cut the wire they’d both been standing on like some crazy psycho and she was forced to free fall and crash land. To make matters even more aggravating, the demon hedgehog didn’t look winded whatsoever. Then he proceeded to start blasting highly-pressurized water out of his mouth. From his thoughts she could tell that he really expected her to die from it this time, seeing as this attack was ‘impossible to dodge unless one had Izuna-like jutsu skills’. She was not certain what an Izuna skill was so this information was of no use to her.

The reason behind her impending death quickly became apparent however, when the pressurized water stream Tobirama was blasting out of his mouth began to follow her around like a puppy playing fetch. Well, more like a snake. Río would’ve tried to use a bunch of Suna and Oto jonin as meat shields, but they were sadly too terrified of Tobirama and sticking to the opposite end of the room. So much for that.

By this point Konoha nin everywhere were screaming and scrambling out of the way as she ran by, the water snake thing getting increasingly larger. Río was sort of starting to get pretty worried at this point. She remembered reading a book on mythology featuring a serpent whose tail spanned across the entire diameter of the globe – Jormungandr – and if you asked her, the nidaime’s technique was literally a ninja version of that. In the tales, the world serpent had been prophesied to meet its end at the hands (or hammer) of the thunder god but she didn’t really fit the bill for that dude. On second thought, the thunder god thing actually sounded a lot like Kakashi, which made sense since his lightning could probably travel up the water stream and fry Tobirama.

Changing course, she put in a burst of speed, dodging around a bunch of Suna jonin as she sprinted toward the other end of the room. Finally, she spotted him.

“Hey, Kakashi! Can you send lightning into this thing?” She pointed at the jormundjutsu that was about to catch up and kill her.

Kakashi gave her a wide-eyed look, then jumped to the side in order to dodge a renewed assault from the monstrous water attack. A second later, he did indeed send lightning up the water current, which finally forced Tobirama to stop blasting water out of his mouth.

Whew. Thank god for random folktales. Actually, Kakashi was probably a way better opponent for Tobirama. She really wasn’t confident in her chances of taking on – wait. Kakashi was fighting Minato-san?! But that was his former sensei!

“Hey, swap hokages with me!”

“No,” Kakashi snapped.

“Why not? Minato-san is your sensei ! Besides, lightning release–”

“– isn’t going to work on me another time,” Tobirama, who had just arrived, gave her an arch look. “Why? Are you tired already?”

What do you mean ‘already’?! Río wanted to shout. Was he mocking her?

“Never meet your heroes,” she muttered glumly. Not that meeting any idol of Danzo’s had ever been at the top of her priority list…

“Show some respect, woman. I heard that.”

Río would have rolled her eyes, only she was a little busy parrying a strong blow of a katana he had pilfered from a corpse with her arm guard. The clinking of metal against metal made a sound like nails on a chalkboard and, to her surprise, the nidaime flinched minutely – he must have sensitive hearing – so she took the chance to slip under his katana arm, jumping over a leg and springing behind Minato to use him as an obstacle separating them. The nidaime appeared supremely annoyed as he moved to circle around the blonde, but Río circled the other way, then turned around again when he tried to intercept, leading them to circle back and forth around a startled Minato like a malfunctioning ferris wheel, Tobirama with a rather pissed look on his face.

“Ah, ANBU-san, I can see what you did there,” Minato praised, apparently regaining his bearings. “I think it’s a great idea to play tag with nidaime-sama like that! By getting him to chase you, you’re not even violating the spiritual contract imposed by the edo tensei–”

Play tag? Rio thought incredulously. Play tag?! Was he serious?

Her righteous indignation was interrupted when Tobirama appeared at her six, his sword flying right over her head as she crouched beneath hastily, making her almost shriek in sorrow for her braid, but instead of lobbing it off, the katana got caught in a metallic wire she always weaved into it. The barbed wire’s general purpose was to poison anyone idiotic enough to try and grab her hair during combat; but never before had anything even remotely got caught in it besides for the enemies’ fingers.

“What the…” the nidaime muttered, poking the katana. “What the hell is this contraption? And is that poison?” ‘How can she stand to torture her hair like this?’

Apparently he’d pinched his finger trying to yank the katana off. 

“It’s cyanide, actually,” she informed him. “Please tell me it works on dead people?”

The nidaime gave her an offended look. “No, and I have immunity.”

So much for that.

“Nidaime-sama, over here!” Minato cut in agreeably, clearly having steered his fight with Kakashi toward them. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Hiruzen’s successor.” Río took the chance to try and yank frantically at the katana stuck to her hair, to no avail. What kind of shitty luck was this? She wanted to cry. Why did the embarrassing stuff always have to happen to her?

“Tough,” Kakashi commented from where he was dodging explosives. She wasn’t sure whether he was laughing at her or actually commiserating. Meanwhile, Tobirama and Minato were still preoccupied with introductions.

“The pleasure is mine. You’re the fourth then, no?”

“Correct!”

“Hmm… Curious. You are that child who spat on me once, aren’t you?”

“You remember?!” Minato squeaked.

“I remember everything.”

“Aww… I was hoping you’d forgotten that.”

“Not a chance.”

‘I am rather curious, however,’ Tobiarama thought shrewdly, watching Minato with narrowed eyes, ‘how a first generation immigrant could have become hokage… seeing as it’s against the law.’

Río gaped at Minato-san, then at Tobirama, completely floored, but was quickly forced to scramble for cover when the nidaime attempted to nail her to the wall with some water bullets. Let it not be said that the two hokage weren’t unable to multitask. Far from giving her and Kakashi any sort of reprieve, they had simply begun to chat whilst trying to kill them. Río was still wrangling with the katana dangling about behind her whilst contorting around Tobirama’s various attacks like some type of possessed demon child, whereas Kakashi was stuck jumping around, barely daring to touch the floor as it kept exploding under his feet, courtesy of some explosive tags which Minato had apparently planted before their fight.

Whilst all of this was occurring, Río reflexively checked the thoughts of some guy behind her and in the process discovered that he had planted some kind of trap for an unsuspecting ANBU a ways off. He had no intention to attack her, thankfully, but now she felt like she should warn the ANBU. If this had been one of her comrades, she’d just have reached out with her mind, but with a stranger she feared it might startle them instead of helping. Unfortunately, she had no clue how to warn the ANBU without knowing the pertinent code name… but then she saw the agent spitting lava…

“Oi, Lava Spit! Lava Spit!” she called. The ANBU turned with puzzlement. “Sand man over there is gonna try and trap you!” The jonin in question gawked at her. “So be careful! It’s the guy who’s gawking at me from over there!”

The thusly dubbed ‘Lava Spit’ soon managed to dodge out of the way of an elaborate pitfall and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Oi! Danzo’s student! Eyes on me!” A second later Tobirama’s foot impaled itself on her upper rib cage and had she not sent chakra to block the blow a second ago, she would have likely popped a boob. The man had very bad (or terribly good) aim, you had to hand it to him.

As it was, Río merely groaned and reflexively pressed a hand over the aching breast. “Couldn’t you have warned me a little earlier?” she yelled at him, every inch of respect for the guy disappearing. “You don’t see me drop kicking you in the balls, now do you?”

The nidaime grimaced, looking uncomfortable, then snapped: “this wouldn’t be an issue if you weren’t so busy insulting your comrades for reasons unknown.”

“I was not insulting her! I literally didn’t know her name!”

“Lava spit isn’t an insult?”

“It’s not if the person in question spits it!”

“An ANBU should make it their duty to know every other agent’s code name,” Tobirama sniffed. “Her mask is obviously a horse, so it would be Uma.”

“Do I look like I have time to be puzzling out mask meanings?!”

“It’s a mask, not the general equations of ballistics.”

That bastard! “Who’s the rude one now?”

“You, clearly.” She could hear the man’s thoughts a moment later: ‘And here I thought Danzo’s students would be the excessively polite, servile types… hmp. Surprising.”

Oh, if only he knew…

Next second the Senju used one of those odious teleportation seals and appeared in front of her, kicking her in the chin. (Apparently he’d decided to stay clear of her chest now.) Unfortunately, this sent Yann’s mask flying. Río leapt to try and catch it, but it was too late and the mask shattered. She had promised to return it! Damn it! She turned to glare at the nidaime, teeth gritted, thoughts boiling.

Her anger was interrupted when Minato recognized her. “Río? Is that you ?”

Oh, boy. How could this be happening? Minato-san… goddamnit. She wasn’t dumb enough to take her eyes off Tobirama again though. “Hey!” Minato exclaimed, again testing her resolve. Did he want her to die or something? “I know that drowned cat look – it is you! Why didn’t you say anything? I can’t believe you grew your hair out, now you look like a woman!” Great . She could practically feel Kakashi’s eyes drilling into the back of her skull. Minato, sadly, appeared oblivious. “This is such fantastic news! And to think you and Kakashi would become comrades… I knew sandaime-sama had it in him!”

“What are you talking about, sensei?” Kakashi asked, voice casual.

Clearly Minato recognized this tone of feigned nonchalance because his eyes opened wider. “Wait… I’m wrong? Root wasn’t disbanded?”

“Disbanded?” Kakashi repeated incredulously.

“You’re still in Root?!” Minato exclaimed, turning toward Río.

“Can someone please explain to me what this Root business is?” the nidaime cut in irritably.

Río did the only sensible thing that occurred to her and took off again. “Don’t you dare!” Tobirama snapped.

“Hey, wait up!” Minato shouted. “What happened to Root!”

Oh, the horror. This felt like some kind of fever dream…

Thankfully, Kakashi was there to keep Minato busy (and probably to pepper him with questions) which only left the nidaime. (Well, only was perhaps not the right adverb.)

She was fucked.

---

The moment Río had run off, Kakashi focused on Minato again.

“Sensei… what was that?”

Minato’s face appeared conflicted. “Listen, Kakashi, maybe you should take her up on that offer to change partners, I don’t–”

“ Sen.sei. What did you mean just now? Why did you think Root has been disbanded? How do you even know about Root?” Sensei had never joined ANBU. He had stayed a jonin, so how? Not even everyone at ANBU knew about Root’s existence… though Minato had been the hokage, so… stupid question.

“Look, Kakashi,” Minato said, swiping at him with renewed vigor, “right now is not the time to discuss this.”

Kakashi did not appreciate the upped attack power, especially not as it was being used as a diversion. Turning up the gas himself, he maneuvered to steal a katana from a nearby jonin the same way the nidaime had just done and parried every one of sensei’s attacks with added vigor, forcing him into the defensive.

“We are not going to get another chance to talk like this,” Kakashi found himself saying, with a sharper tone than he would have liked. “You need to tell me what that was about. Now.”

“Kakashi–”

“How much do you know about Root? Tell me!”

Minato went still for a second. Though barely noticeable, Kakashi did not miss it. That pause – what did it mean?

“I could ask you the same question,” Minato shot back. “You seem to be strongly opinionated about them yourself.”

Somehow, their argument reminded him of the fact that he was now the same age as Minato had been when he’d died. They were the same age . He expected Minato to be more knowledgeable and wiser to him by default but now… they were equals, in a way.

“My good friend used to be from Root,” Kakashi said. “I pulled him out.”

Minato’s face split into a smile. “That’s good to hear, Kakashi.”

“Will you tell me how you know about them?” Kakashi asked with annoyance, dodging another swipe at his eyes.

“Look, I was hokage, hokage know these things–” He was lying. Kakashi could smell it.

“Tell me the truth!” he demanded strongly. “I need to know this, it’s really important.”

“Kakashi, I’m sure someone else can fill you in, right now really–”

In that moment, the tower suddenly began to crumble over their heads again. Kakashi turned with shock and noticed that the support shadow beams had receded . What the hell was that unhinged Nara doing?

Kakashi watched, confused, as Shibuimaru leapt away from where he’d been standing, appearing too busy smirking at Orochimaru to care that the ceiling happened to be dropping down upon all of them because of his idiocy. Looking more closely, Kakashi noted that not all of the ceiling was threatening to crush them, but rather the parts that hung directly over Orochimaru and the brunt of the Suna and Sound forces.

Ah. So that was his angle. He dodged a dangerous blow from sensei and kept looking, still highly alert, though Minato was glancing over as well so he figured he could afford it.

An instant before the entire building could cave in over them, Orochimaru barked out a command to Hashirama, who made a few handsigns and a few seconds later, a gigantic tree began to sprout from the ground, its huge branches moving to support the rest of the tower’s remains, though a large quantity just kept growing, eventually piercing through the ceiling on various parts and then roof. Kakashi estimated that the tree could likely be seen from most parts of Konoha; it was that big.

Meanwhile, Nara Shibuimaru seemed pleased with this outcome. Kakashi realized right then that that had been his plan all along – to push the task of lifting the building onto someone else. Grinning like the devil, the man gave a nonchalant shrug and began to cross the room.

“Looks like I’m finally free of this burden,” he said, turning his head to eye the destruction around them. It was then that Kakashi remembered that the man supposedly held a strong grudge against one person in particular… but who? He glanced around warily. In one corner of the room, some of the clan heads could be seen in ardent battle against the suna jonin. Guy and Tenzo had jumped forth to attack Hashirama whilst he was preoccupied with making the tree to lift the tower ceiling, a ways off Río was clinging to a bo stick some Suna jonin was waving around as Tobirama jabbed at her with a stolen naginata… but Shibuimaru was looking at none of them. Not even at Shikaku, who was by all rights his kin.

No. Nara Shibuimaru had seemed to take note of all this and shrug it off. His gaze had turned to stare at them , right where he was standing, icy and brimming with the intent to kill, stronger than he’d ever felt it, and Kakashi’s blood froze. Contrary to popular belief, killing intent had little correlation with strength. It simply happened to be a weapon many ninja learned to hone over the years, and those who survived long enough to fully master it tended to be very dangerous people indeed. However, at its core, killing intent was simply a matter of emotion. Anyone angry enough, psychotic enough, could radiate it. The requirement for someone to have strong killing intent was simply that they also have a strong desire to hurt, to tear a person apart in the most vicious of ways, the more manic and unrestrained their intentions, the more noticeable the killing intent. It was theorized that large amounts of killing intent were also related to a strong proportion of yin chakra… and the greatest amount of killing intent he’d ever felt was being directed at him right then. Except no, he wasn’t the focus, Minato was. His sensei. Kakashi turned like a whip, to stare at Minato-sensei, then at Shibuimaru, then back again. Just what…?

“Kakashi, snap out of it!” Minato’s voice cautioned him, next second be barely dodged a mortal blow from the blonde. “I don’t know how that man is here, but collateral is going to be the least of his worries, Kakashi – so just – get out!”

Get out? Kakashi stared at Minato, trying to make sense of the situation. He wasn’t sure how Minato had managed to recognize Shibuimaru so quickly, though then again, with a killing intent like that, perhaps that was a stupid question. But the point was: Kakashi was not a little kid anymore. He remembered the night in which the kyubi had struck, the way he had been prohibited to go to sensei to help. He was certain he could have done something. He wasn’t a weakling. And even if he’d died… it would have been so much better than just – waiting outside. Hearing from a third party that his sensei had passed away, had been left to fight alone a threat larger than life. Kakashi was taken back to that night and no – he refused to ever be put in such a position again. He stayed right where he was.

One second later, the Nara had reached them. “You’re afraid of collateral?” the man drawled. “ You? Very funny, Namikaze.”

Minato’s eyes narrowed, but once more, he ignored the taunt. “Kakashi, leave! Please. Go help–”

“No,” Kakashi said firmly. “I can handle the Nara fine.”

“Oh,” said Shibuimaru, lips twisting into a smirk. “I don’t think that’s what Namikaze is worried about, Hatake-kun.”

What?

Clearly sensing his confusion, Shibuimaru added: “Well, I don’t think he wants me to tell you about our old war stories, is all. Do you, Namikaze? Which one should I tell him about first? The ars–”

He was forced to cut himself off when, with a savage scream, Minato attempted to impale him with a rasengan, drilling a gigantic hole into the floor in the process, debris and tiles flying around everywhere. Shibuimaru had dodged, however, but Minato didn’t seem to care, giving him no respite as he renewed his furious assault, hiraishin kunai flying, his form a fair-haired blur. Kakashi could barely follow what was happening without the sharingan, forcing him to once more activate it – just in time to see Minato’s fingers curl into the sign for detonation, all of the explosives in the area going off at the same time a second later. Kakashi barely managed to sunshin away in time. But somehow, so had Shibuimaru, even without the considerable advantage of the sharingan.

The Nara wasted no time in hitting back just as good as he was getting, shadows encroaching everything, all the dark spaces where Minato’s light couldn’t reach, swerving and hitting and drilling holes into the floor, tossing nin who were in his path into the air like rag dolls. Kakashi was forced to sunshin away to dodge shadows more than once, but what truly shocked him was the fervor with which his sensei fought back. This was not the lackluster performance of a resurrected man being made to battle against their will – this was the resilience and sharpness of an angry, burning blade straight out of the forge. More importantly, what had the Nara meant by ‘old war stories’? He was from Root, Río had said so. He shouldn’t even have had the chance to know sensei personally.

Just what…?

Minato-sensei and the Nara were destroying everything in a ten foot radius, making even Tobirama glance over from where he was trying to decapitate Río with a disturbed expression. And it was disturbing, because, just as Minato had said, the Nara didn’t seem to give a damn about collateral. He had killed and injured more than a few Konoha shinobi already – many more than any of the other reincarnated kage had killed – and it did not look like he would stop anytime soon.

It was then that Nara Shikaku appeared next to Kakashi, followed shortly by Inoichi and Choza.

“He needs to be contained.” Shikaku spoke with a strange tone. It wasn’t necessary to say his name; Kakashi nodded his agreement. If they let Shibuimaru keep this up, he’d end up killing all the people they were trying to save in the process of trying to defeat Minato-sensei, and even if he won, who knows what he would get up to next. No, Shibuimaru had already served his purpose, now they needed to get rid of him whilst they still had the chance. Minato was keeping him busy…

“Will you help us?” Shikaku inquired, interrupting his thoughts.

Kakashi wasn’t so sure about his own chances against his sensei, but this… he had never seen Minato fight like this. Tobirama’s tsunami from earlier almost paled in comparison to the constant explosions, rasengan attacks and shadow tendril drills which were now leveling the entire tower. If it weren’t for the sheer strength and sturdiness of Hashirama’s tree, the entire hokage tower would be ancient history. Shibuimaru had to be contained.

“I will help, then return to fighting sensei once Shibuimaru is down,” Kakashi said. He remembered Río’s words. “But he should not be killed. That body belongs to someone else; he’s just possessing it.”

“I figured it was something like that,” Shikaku said thoughtfully. “So it really is him, huh…”

Inoichi and Choza were standing next to Shikaku with unreadable expressions. Kakashi looked at each of them quizzically. Something in their eyes prompted him to ask… “Did any of you know that man? Nara Shibuimaru?”

“It’s private,” Inoichi said grimly, giving Shikaku a look.

Shikaku’s jaw ticked, and he made a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine, Inoichi. To answer you, Hatake, I did know him for most of my childhood. Or at least I thought I did.” They watched Minato fight Shibuimaru for a few seconds in silence; Shikaku didn’t elaborate. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said at last. “The plan is to get Inoichi to enter Shibuimaru’s mind. Once Inoichi’s in, Shibuimaru will no longer be in control of his faculties, and we can easily contain him. Your job, Hatake, is to help Inoichi get close enough to him without dying in the process.”

Easier said than done. It was curious though, that they’d want Inoichi to be the one to contain him with his jutsu, even with other, safer options available. There was only one plausible reason for it.

“You want to read Shibuimaru’s thoughts, don’t you?” Kakashi questioned bluntly.

The looks both Inoichi and Choza gave the man were answer enough.

“It would be wiser to trap him differently,” Kakashi added, mostly just to see how Shikaku would answer. The reply he got, however, was not one he could have foreseen.

“I have lived my life with many questions,” the man said grimly. “Questions about my family, questions that I want answered. Now .”

Family? Kakashi stared at Shikaku. “That man…? Shibuimaru is…?”

“Yes,” Shikaku said coldly.

 

 

The four wasted no time in putting their plan into motion. Choza and Kakashi were sent ahead to create distractions. Taking a page from Minato’s book, who was using the light radiated by the rasengan and his explosions to keep Shibuimaru’s shadows at bay, Kakashi was able to effectively use the chidori in order to get the shadows to retreat long enough for Inoichi to strike, Choza and Shikaku at his sides to protect him. Shikaku’s shadows battled Shibuimaru’s own, which returned to his body at the last second, and a combined attack from Kakashi and Minato finally gave them enough of an opening for Inoichi to launch forward and place a hand on Shibuimaru’s head – all of these actions combined taking place in the same second. The moment Inoichi entered his mind, Shibuimaru went slack, his attacks stopping. 

Every Konoha nin fighting around them breathed a sigh of relief, as they would no longer have to keep an eye on Shibuimaru’s shadows so as to not get hit by them.

Kakashi, in turn, went back to battling Minato, but he couldn’t help but keep glancing at Inoichi and his hand on the Nara’s head, his curiosity burning bright. Just what was in that man’s memories? Río had known him. Even Tenzo did, but most especially Minato. Just who was he?

Choza and Shikaku regarded Inoichi’s concentrated face with trepidation, a frown marrying it.

“Cover for us, will you,” said Shikaku to Choza. The Akimichi nodded uneasily and the head of the Nara waited no more to press his palm to Inoichi’s. They had practiced this long ago. Now Shikaku would be able to watch the memories of Shibuimaru first thing, as Inoichi extracted them. Meanwhile, Choza glanced around uneasily. His teammates’ mental incursion was dangerous – too dangerous. Anything could go wrong. And yet he also knew how important those memories would likely be to Shikaku, so he stayed still and kept watch over them.

 

“How do you know that Shibuimaru guy?” was the first thing Kakashi asked once he returned to fighting Minato, at the previous pace.

“Please, Kakashi. Let us talk about anything else. Just tell me about your life, okay?” the blonde implored. “I’ve been dying to know all about it. And Naruto! How is Naruto doing? Is the seal holding up alright? Is he a good kid? Not too spoiled, I hope? Kakashi?”

Oh, shit. No way was he talking about Naruto with sensei. It would break the man’s heart to know what his son had gone through. It was not worth it, especially since he’d be returning to the Pure Lands soon. There was little Minato would be able to do for his son at this point.

“He is a good kid,” Kakashi settled for saying, feeling suddenly bone-tired. “A prankster if I ever saw one. He’s got a verbal tick, just like Kushina-san.” Kakashi closed his eyes. “He… is not spoiled, don’t worry.”

Minato smiled softly. “I’m glad to hear that. How is… Is everything alright with the seal? Has Jiraiya-sensei checked it over? I was in such a hurry, back when – when…” He fell quiet.

Kakashi nodded uncomfortably. “Jiraiya… did take a look at it… a while back.” Almost thirteen years ago, before leaving Konoha without looking back, his newly orphaned godson now completely alone in the world.

“And?” Minato pressed, with that uncanny ability of his to smell a lie a mile away. “Is Jiraiya-sensei taking good care of Naruto? He’s not letting him read any perverted magazines, right?”

Oh, shit.

Kakashi swallowed. He did not want to tell sensei this. He did not want to have this conversation at all. “He… he taught Naruto to summon toads just this month,” he found himself stuttering, which was… technically true, only Minato would interpret it as them living together, rather than Naruto randomly encountering ‘a pervy Sage’ in the hot springs and bullying him into teaching him the jutsu.

Minato’s lips broke out into a relieved smile. “I’m so glad to hear that. And summoning! At… how old his he right now?”

“Twelve.”

“Summoning at twelve! Ah, that’s great! Do you know which toad he got first? Was it gamakichi?”

“Er… I’m not sure,” Kakashi said awkwardly. Now to change the topic ASAP, before Minato could find out what a terrible sensei he was… or who he happened to be teaching… Kakashi used a doton technique, creating a large crater that would hopefully distract the blond and make him switch gears. It worked like a charm, and Kakashi took the chance to switch topics:

“Sensei. Don’t think I can’t tell what you’re doing. You still haven’t answered my question from earlier. How do you know that Nara? Why does he want to kill you? And don’t deflect again.”

Minato’s expression went back to unreadable, then faux bemused. “Kakashi, geeze! You’re like a dog with a bone. Can’t you let it go?”

“No,” Kakashi said. He didn’t want to discuss Naruto; he wanted to know what was going on with Root. He had to know – ASAP.

Inoichi couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since he’d entered Nara Shibuimaru’s head. It felt like he’d lived an entire lifetime in minutes. A lifetime of nightmare. He told himself to get a grip, but could barely focus. It was all he could do to shakily tear himself and Shikaku from that monster’s mind. He could scarcely even describe the maelstrom of feelings coursing through him – and from the look on Shikaku’s face, neither could he. Shikaku’s brother… the few times Inoichi had seen him during their childhood, the guy had always seemed so chill – how could someone like that be such a monster? Even for shinobi standards. The things he had done… he could scarcely believe them.

For all that Inoichi had lived through a war and become more hardened than barely anyone in this profession of his, for all that he was a master of breaking minds when needed – he could not cope with what he had seen.

“I will kill you for this!” he found himself screaming, feeling like an outsider in his own body. He knew he was lunging as though possessed at the body containing that monster. He knew he was holding a kunai aloft and that his killing intent had gone completely haywire, he knew from the man’s memories that he was currently just a spirit inside someone else’s body, but right then he didn’t care. “YOU WILL PAY, YOU MONSTER!”

“Inoichi, stop it!” Choza yelled from somewhere behind him. “That guy is supporting the ceiling, what are you doing!”

“He’s not and I wouldn’t care if he was!” Inoichi thundered. Of course, Choza didn’t know ; he hadn’t seen the memories… this little mind incursion was only supposed to have concerned Shikaku, after all… but the moment Inoichi had seen his daughter in that monster’s memory, he had completely lost himself. He had been unable to stop looking at every instance in which Shibuimaru and Inoue had coincided, horrified though he was. Unfortunately, this meant that Choza suddenly grabbed them – him and Shikaku both – and hauled them away from the Nara, his grip strong. Inoichi was shaking with rage and grief – meanwhile Shikaku’s face was completely frozen in Choza’s enlarged hand. He didn’t know how long he tried to fight the grip and get out to kill that monster until finally calming down, his breath suddenly becoming shakier and shakier as his anger morphed into hysteria and sorrow. Finally, he went limp in Choza’s grip.

“Is it really that bad?” his friend asked worriedly.

Next to him, Shikaku still looked catatonic, so Inoichi just nodded numbly. Now that he had calmed down a little, he realized that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t kill Shibuimaru’s host. He was not the real person he was after. No, Shibuimaru was long dead… and what a way to die. One thing was for certain: he would never be able to  look at Hokage mountain the same way.

“How do you know that man?” Kakashi repeated, voice hard. “And what did he mean by ‘war stories’, sensei?”

Finally, Minato seemed to realize that Kakashi wouldn’t stop asking, no matter what he did. His shoulders slumped imperceptibly.

“Can’t you guess?” the blonde questioned, and there was something defeated in his eyes, something like shame–

Kakashi froze. No. Impossible .

“You – you were a member of Root?”

Minato said nothing. No. Impossible .

“Sensei?!”

---

 

Sakura watched Iruka hobble back into the building, then turned to eye the ANBU. She couldn’t leave until they debriefed her, and the wait made her nervous… the only positive part about the whole thing was that, since she had summoned her crows a few hours ago, Sakura was noticing that more and more of them were returning to her. That was good. They made her feel safer. It was reassuring, in a way, to feel so many of their little minds buzzing in close proximity to her own. They weren’t afraid after all, not in the way she was, and she found that her own fear diminished significantly because of the mind-linking technique. She smiled at Shi-chan, who had just arrived, then ducked her head when one of the ANBU gave her an odd look. The man kept staring at her, then at the crow, and Sakura shuffled her feet nervously. Was it that weird?

She tried to focus on something else, other than the drill-like gaze of that particular ANBU. This was actually quite hard, as she was still stuck at the Academy, waiting for the group of ANBU to tell her what to do. A part of Sakura hoped they would just go already; go into the passages beneath the hokage mountain and save her parents. That part of her wished that the ANBU would save her parents, that she wouldn’t have to risk her life again, the way she’d been planning to… and yet somehow, she found herself surprised by the equally strong wish that they would let her tag along, that she’d be allowed to go into the mountain herself, to personally make sure that her parents were okay, that they didn’t get hurt in the ensuing skirmish. In the end, she wasn’t sure what she wanted, but waiting for the decision to be made was even worse. A ways off, she could still hear the group of ANBU in quiet discussion. They’d been arguing for a few minutes already, occasionally glancing over at her; their body language unreadable. She watched them with trepidation, not even bothering to be discreet about it. Straining her ears, she heard the last figment of conversation between the ANBU.

“Don’t worry, taichou…” one was saying. It was the one who had given her an odd look earlier. “I will make sure to get the reinforcements Hatake asked for.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Hatake… as in Kakashi-sensei? Was he in trouble? He always seemed so invincible, but what if something had happened to him? He wouldn’t be asking for reinforcements if everything was okay…

“Very well,” said the captain to the lone agent – the one who’d been staring at her. “Make it quick then. If Hatake needs backup, he likely will need a lot. This is why it makes no sense for us to split up into two squads of three – it’s not enough people. We would achieve nothing on either front.”

“Of course, Taichou. I agree. I’ll make sure Hatake gets his reinforcements.”

“See to it that you do.” The captain turned, his eyes fixed on Sakura. “And you ,” he called, “stay put. We will be questioning you about this Tetsuya man once this is over. In detail.”

Sakura gulped. “Y-yeah. I – I mean – y-yessir!”

The ANBU captain stared at her blankly. Then she heard a minute sound from behind his mask. Did he just snort at her? She was trying to act professional here! If he had, he was pretending not to, going all business-like about turning away from her, his team following suit and beginning to run through some quick stretching exercises, as though readying for battle. All but the agent tasked with gathering reinforcements.

Sakura bit her lip, staring at the captain indecisively. Somehow, the fact that the dude had snorted at her – though it had stung her pride – made him more human. It was this which gave her courage to ask her next question:

“A-ANBU captain-san…?” she called out hesitantly, when he had already turned to go. The man glanced back at her.

“What is it?”

“My – my parents are in there.” She tried not to sound as frightened as she felt. “I… I know you said not to move from here, but… If you see them… can you make sure they’re okay? Can you tell them I’m fine, that I’m waiting for them here?”

The captain watched her as she spoke and something about him almost seemed to soften a little. “Their names?”

“K-kizashi and Mubuki.”

“I’ll need a surname, kid.”

Sakura wanted to facepalm at herself. “Right. Yes. Er. Sorry. I mean Haruno! It’s Haruno.”

The ANBU captain nodded. “Alright,” he said slowly, “Haruno.” He paused. “I can make you no promises. It is unclear whether I will survive the hour, never mind the night – but if so, I will do my best to look for them and relay your message. However, keep in mind that all civilians will be protected equally – if to the best of our ability.”

Sakura bit her lip. That wasn’t all she’d been hoping to hear… but it made sense. “I understand…” She stared at her feet meekly. This was real. Not even the ANBU captain seemed to have much faith in his odds. “Thanks,” she forced herself to say.

The captain nodded. “For what it’s worth, Haruno, I believe your story. Protocol mandates we still question you when all of this is over… but you seem like the right sort – and my gut feelings tend to be on point. If what those kids say is true… you have done a great deal of good today. Don’t forget that.” Sakura nodded, wide eyed, and was at a loss on what to say. The captain turned, not waiting for a reply, and next second he and his team had disappeared en route to the hokage mountain.

Only one agent remained. He had been watching Sakura converse with his captain, had been watching her the entire time; and now that they were gone, he turned to her.

“So. Looks like taichou took a liking to you, huh?”

Sakura nodded, a little thrown by his amiable tone. “Er I… I guess so.” She paused. “He seems really cool.”

“Ah, that he is,” the agent chuckled. “And don’t worry about the questioning thing. Cap was just doing his job, trying to find out where you learned that SOS chakra pattern from ‘n all that. You sure your mysterious friend’s name is Tetsuya?”

“I mean, yeah,” Sakura said, uneasily. “As far as I know. But he… he seemed like such a nice person. Why would he lie to me about his name of all things? It’s not like I’m some sort of important person anyone would want to spy on.”

“Actually,” said the ANBU, who was now watching her intently, “you are .”

Sakura’s nose scrunched up as she stared at him weirdly. “Sure I am. Civilian born, genin-level, a girl … I can see why enemy spies would dig that.”

A chuckle. “Silly Sakura. That is not what I meant. But rather, I was talking about the number of soft profits intrinsically tied to your person, so to speak.” Sakura stared at him blankly. “You see…” he continued, “a shinobi’s market value doesn’t just hinge upon their hands, their katana, the amount of jutsu they know… but also upon their contacts.”

“Contacts?”

“Indeed, Sakura. You see… contacts are everything in this world of ours.”

She was bothered by the familiarity he addressed her with, but there was no time to complain. “But I’m a civilian-born! What contacts would I have?” Sakura exclaimed.

“I am not sure how aware you are of this, but every member of your team seven… is special in his own right. Very special. And that, by extension, makes you special,” the ANBU explained. “You are an access point to either of them – to all of them. Not just that, but if someone were to harm or kidnap you… why, I daresay that in one fell swoop, this person would be levelling a heavy blow upon some of Konoha’s most precious weapons all at once… destabilizing them. So,” the man concluded, “you could be as useless as you want as a fighter, but you would still be an incredibly strong asset for any spy to have influence over.”

These words chilled Sakura. And no, not just the being useless part. Could it be…? But no. Tetsuya was always so nice to her… seriously, what kind of spy would go around kidnapping cats with thirteen-year-olds? Not to mention, she had always felt like he was sort of reluctant to hang out with her – that wasn’t very spy-like either, now was it? Sakura had literally had to strong-arm the guy into friendship: at first she’d dragged him off to get dango and an alarm clock, then she’d convinced him to help Tora find a new home, then she’d forced him into the beauty pageant… Honestly, it had always felt like Sakura was doing all the legwork of their friendship, especially at the beginning. Shouldn’t it be the other way around if he was a spy? She tried explaining as much to the ANBU.

“Of course,” the man said, a little condescendingly. “ You may feel that way, Sakura-chan. This does in no way necessarily reflect the reality of things. Why else would any powerful shinobi, an older one too, hang out with you?”

“W-well, I got the feeling he was really lonely, you know,” Sakura stuttered. A snort. “And sick,” she added, remembering. “He’s sick. And I don’t think he gets along with his family… so… I think maybe he really needed somebody to be there?”

“Sick. Vulnerable. Right .” The ANBU patted her head. “That’s what they all want you to think. It’s infiltration 101, really.”

Sakura’s cheeks burned, she was not certain whether it was due to anger or embarrassment. He made her sound so stupid! So… so blind ! “Didn’t you hear me?” she exclaimed hoarsely. “He’s not a stranger, nor an infiltrator! We’re friends . And I’m not an idiot! I know I’m not imagining it!”

“And yet he has been teaching you things you shouldn’t know, things he shouldn’t know, such as ANBU’s secret – classified – code language, which he must have been aware might get you into trouble. Not a very typical friendship, now is it?”

“H-he just mentions random jutsu to me when they come up in conversation, that’s all! It’s no big deal, alright?”

“Does he really?” The ANBU leaned in even further. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t – I don’t know,” Sakura stuttered loudly, leaning back. “It’s just random stuff! Like a genjutsu to put a cat to sleep… a concealment genjutsu… also for a cat – um.” She cut herself off, wondering if she should mention that he had taught her Tsunade Senju’s technique. She definitely should, but–

“Yes?” the ANBU questioned.

“W-well he didn’t teach me all that much. Just random, irrelevant stuff, okay!”

“Irrelevant, of course.”

“It’s true!” Kinda.

“It sounds like he taught you a lot of genjutsu-related things…”

Sakura’s teeth clenched. “Seriously, he was just trying to help me out a bit! I kinda need it, in case you didn’t notice! Being the useless member of such an illustrious team, as you put it, I need to get stronger, and fast! Isn’t that what any friend would do?”

Around her, the volume of crows perched in the area was increasing. She could glimpse Shi-chan watching them from above… they had started getting restless. This did not go unnoticed by the ANBU.

“You keep looking over at the crows… why is that?”

“They’re uneasy,” Sakura snapped. 

“Are they?”

“Yes. Maybe because they don’t like you.”

“They seem normal to me,” the man said calmly.

“Yeah, maybe,” Sakura mused, trying to tamp down on her anger and failing. “I suppose they would look normal to you . But I think I would know a little better, seeing as I’m their summoner!”

“What – did you just say?” the ANBU asked slowly, sharply.

Sakura was unsettled by his penetrating stare, which was noticeable even with the ANBU mask, so much so that her boiling temper was put on hold. For a moment, it was completely silent.

“You heard me.”

“Your summons,” the ANBU finally said quietly. “The crows are your summons?” For the first time, he sounded completely disbelieving.

Sakura looked at him uneasily and nodded. “Yeah. So?”

“ Your summons?” he repeated again, louder. “ Yours? ”

“Not like it’s any of your business, Mr I-know-everything-better!” she replied uneasily. “See, Tetsuya let me sign his summoning contract! That’s the definitive proof I’m his friend! The summons are his, and why would he share them with me if he was just manipulating me?”

Then the ANBU threw his head back and started laughing. Sakura stepped back. “Oh, this is just rich, ” he cried. “You have no idea, do you?”

Sakura eyed him warily. She could tell that Shi-chan was getting distinctly agitated. “No idea? About what?”

The man paused, as if relishing the moment.

“Well?” Sakura pressed irritably.

“Does the name Uchiha Itachi say anything to you?” 

Sakura stared at him. …it actually did, now. Sasuke had told her everything about his personal tragedy only a few days ago… Sakura still had to gulp at the memory of his exact words. But never mind that. What did the murderous sociopath Uchiha have anything to do with the current discussion?

“Yes. Yes, I know of him,” she said irritably. “But so what?”

“Well, I dare say you don’t just know of him,” the ANBU quipped. He seemed to be getting some type of sick amusement from the entire conversation.

It took her a moment to process the actual words, but then her stomach lurched in fear. She didn’t just know of him…? What was that supposed to mean? What else was ther… no. No. That wasn’t possible. No.

And yet… Ita-kun. The silly-sounding nickname reverberated through her skull like something macabre.

Before she knew it, Sakura was on her feet and shoving the ANBU away from her. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying, you – you asshole! Aren’t you supposed to be looking for sensei, huh?! Just go and do your freaking job already!”

Up above, the crows had started to caw loudly, more and more gathering above them in the night sky. They weren’t easily visible against the pitch black of the firmament, but Sakura could feel them there; more crows than she recalled summoning.

The ANBU seemed completely at ease with her screaming. When Sakura shoved him, he in fact did not budge. Instead, he lifted his head to stare at the looming sky, at the crows which were cawing like an angry storm cloud.

“So it really is true…” he drawled. “Too bad those birds won’t be able follow where I’m taking you.”

By the time the mere thought of running started forming, his hands had already found the pressure point on her neck. Sakura’s choked, muffled scream, melded with the cawing of hundreds of birds, was the last thing she heard; a sharp pain in her neck the last thing she felt… and then… darkness.

 

 

Notes:

So -- we finally get to this part: the reveal. It has been a point of contention for me since i first came up with the idea for this fic. I have thought over fifty ways for sakura to realize itachi is in fact a criminal. From hearing about the type of cloak the akatsuki wear and then going 'huh?' to the akatsuki kidnapping naruto and sakura giving chase and once again going 'what the bloody -- tetsuya?!'

However, as my idea for the plot evolved, i discarded all of those -- and now here we are. Sakura is in the process of finding out, (trust me, the whole reveal arc is not yet over with) and it's going to get even more dramatic from here on out. Moreso than the scenario i mentioned above. Any guesses? ;)

Chapter 31: Of Shadows and Lies pt 1

Summary:

Warning: the mature tag added to this fic is mostly due to the few gore scenes that appear here and there. One being where Sasuke loses his eyes… a similar one is in this chapter. If such things trigger you, beware. This one is not going to be worse than the Sasuke one, but there will be a heavier one soon. I will tell you when.

Notes:

So, to those who noticed the Yandere!Minato tag, it was not just for show. I didn’t go so far out of my way to show how sweet he was to Kakashi for no reason; I wanted there to be a contrast between both sides of him. That will start now.

Also, we continue with Sakura’s situation… many of you correctly guessed the identity of the kidnapper, however, his motives are still up in the air. Read to find out :)

Also, Shisui appears!

The crows, as a rule, were more intelligent than the cats and the dogs, more loyal than the snakes and the fickle swans, with greater mobility than the frogs and the slugs, and much less conspicuous than the hawks or the stags – and yet no shinobi had ever shown interest in bonding with them. No worthy shinobi, anyway.

A binding contract between a human clan and an animal clan ensured that both sides would come out better off than they had been: the human clan would receive assistance in battle and other ventures that hinged upon the summon’s abilities, whilst the chakra capacity and intelligence of all members of the animal clan would increase substantially. The great clans which were known to have signed some of the strongest humans had historically retained many of the qualities that their summoners possessed: all of them boasted a heightened intelligence and fighting ability – not to mention prestige amongst the other clans.

But shallow as humans were, they only ever bothered to bond with animal clans that were appealing to them in some way – either aesthetically or for reasons of reputation – and for all their talk, they never looked beyond the obvious. The crows – in the eyes of the humans, plebian and lackluster – held little appeal. This slight went not unnoticed.

Though nowhere close to the peacocks, the crow clans still had their pride; they were self assured of their individuality and intelligence – and so they never lowered themselves to letting a lesser shinobi sign a contract with them just for the sake of it: it either would be with one of the great humans – or none at all. This the elder crows had repeated to the youngest like gospel – that is, until Uchiha Shisui had come along.

Shi-chan remembered the boy with the curly hair well. He was the first human Shi-chan had ever seen, though back then he hadn’t known much about the Featherless Folk in general. Shi-chan had been a curious youngling back then, and the only one who had been brave and stupid enough to dare getting close to a human and claim it as his. His human had had the two reddest eyes Shi-chan had ever seen – in hindsight redder than any of the Uchiha had ever had – redder even than Itachi-dono’s.

Red, red, red.

His human had used those eyes to teach Shi-chan about the human world. Shi-chan’s human had shown him images that would be useful to an inexperienced crow, such as a better way to hunt mice in the dark, or the sound that prey birds made when they  dove. Few chicks ever survived long enough to hear it a second time. Thanks to this information, Shi-chan had been the first of his generation to survive a falcon attack – not once, but twice – and his reputation had grown consequently. It was then that he had understood just how useful this pet of his truly was.   And so he had made a habit of visiting it from time to time, when his fancy struck. 

Shisui the featherless was a relaxed sort of guy. Shi-chan learned that it was his featherless was in fact a male, and that it called itself “human”. Humans at large weren’t quite as simple-minded as Shi-chan had been led to believe, actually. They knew a whole lot about hunting strategies and falcons and worm-catching. In fact, they had strange things in their vocabulary which Shi-chan had never thought to ponder about before, concepts he struggled to understand even after pressing his human for clarification. With the existence of strange words such as “totalitarian” or “melodical” or “systematic”, Shi-chan had his wings full. His pet truly was a lot of work! But his ownership of it made Shi-chan special, one of his kind, and though he knew he might be forsaken for it if news of his pastimes were to get to the elders, he couldn’t help but want to understand his human more and more as the days went by.

Without knowing when or how it happened, Shi-chan had started to understand his human when he spoke, had started to understand Shisui’s values and culture.

“Back for more, are you?” Shisui never seemed to have any particular desire to see Shi-chan, but didn’t seem to mind when Shi-chan visited either, and would routinely use his red eyes to teach Shi-chan nifty little tricks. This had put the crow at ease. He had taken to nibble Shisui’s ear once in the affirmative, twice in the negative, and give him a peck if he was annoyed. “Maa, I’ve been training hard lately, ya know? ANBU are slave drivers.” He always complained and acted like he didn’t want to show Shi-chan new skills with his red, red, eyes, but Shi-chan always got him to cave in the end.

“Fine, fine. I’ll show you something! Just stop pecking me already – and don’t sit on my hair, got it? I’m not gonna get any chicks if you keep messing it up!”

Shi-chan never understood what he wanted with the baby chicks in the first place; all they ever did was chirp for their mother, eat and sleep.

But even despite Shisui’s odd fixation with ‘chicks’, his human had been an okayish pet otherwise. You see, Shisui had been a very fast sort of human, and so he knew all sorts of things about speed and how to increase it, such as strategies to use the wind to go faster, or even chakra. Shi-chan had struggled with applying some of these cincepts to his own life and body – human anatomy was rather peculiar, after all – but he soon became the fastest flier of his nest regardless. He could soar like no other crow and dive like a falcon at the drop of a hat. He was capable of using sticks to pop locks of human doors in order to steal their food and knew how to even change his voice to mimic the sounds made by other birds. He had even picked up a thing or two about camouflage from all those humans who liked to scurry about and crouch in bushes. In short: he was the fastest and strongest crow out of them all, even at his young age. All of his kin agreed on it, though they were wrong about one thing: they all thought Shi-chan was the best because he had been born that way – none of them had any idea that the real reason was that he secretly had a pet human.

He in fact was starting to get rather attached to his human. This is why the sudden mention of him signing himself away with a summoning contract to someone else bothered Shi-chan immensely.

“It’s tradition for the people of my clan to sign a contract with the ninja cats,” Shisui had told him one day. This was not well received at all: Shi-chan had immediately bristled. His human? Sign a contract? With those odious flea bags? Under no circumstances! 

“H-hey, chill!” Shisui cried, covering his head to protect himself against Shi-chain’s vicious pecking. It had to be the carrot and the stick with his human. As much as Shi-chan appreciated the guy, he sometimes had to use force to let Shisui know when he was misbehaving.

Once Shisui appeared sufficiently cowed, Shi-chan stopped pecking him. He would listen. For now.

“Look, you’re getting the wrong idea here,” his human defended himself. “Signing a contract with the cats is just a thing in my clan , it’s not like I want to,” he had quickly explained. “It’s a rite of passage for every Uchiha that makes chunin – okay? Which I have. That’s why it came up.” Shi-chan still wasn’t pleased. Those all sounded like stupid excuses to him. Cats were a big no-no, his human should know that! Was he daft? Didn’t he know that those blasted fleabags ate people?

“Oi, don’t do that! It hurts. Seriously! I swear I really don’t care about the cats one way or another… I don’t need them to be a good ninja.” Shi-chan could tell that his pet spoke truthfully, and this pleased him. Then Shisui ventured: “You must be wondering why I brought up the topic in the first place, right?”

A peck.

“Well… I guess… it’s… it’s because of my dad,” his human explained. Right, his pet still has a hatch-parent. Shi-chan never understood how humans could go so long without leaving the nest – personally, he could barely even remember his hatchling days, but never mind. Humans . He tuned back into Shisui’s rant.  “…and… the thing is, my dad really wants me to have a contract of my own, you know? His summons have always been a huge thing for him, so he’s upset that I’m not gonna get any. He didn’t have a contract with normal cats, mind – he had one with the snow panthers – that’s, like, huge; they were originally the second hokage’s summons. He’s kind of a big deal to humans. Not that the chum’s very popular these days, but still. 

“Anyway, dad used to always promise me that I could have a contract just like his when I was older, but now that the second hokage is dead, the snow panther’s summoning scroll is gone… and my clan won’t let me sign the contract the Uchiha have with the ninja cats.” Shi-chan personally didn’t much care for all this talk about cats and big cats but he could tell that his human was invested in it for some reason, so he refrained from pecking him again. 

“My point is – dad’s a pariah. That’s why they won’t let his son sign.” Shisui explained gravely. “And he blames himself for it. Really, I don’t even want summons in the first place, but he thinks I’m just telling him that to placate him… so I guess what I’m saying is… do you wanna sign a contract with me? It doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want my dad to think that I finally got one. Err… how about it?” There was an awkward pause; then, sensing that moral support was needed, he nibbled Shisui’s ear.

Yes.

Shisui’s expression cleared. “Great! I mean, who wants cats, anyway? Crows are spazzier.”

He carefully outstretched his hand for Shi-chan to jump on, which Shi-chan did. Heh. He supposed if it was to help prevent his human from permanently being tied to some fleabags, he would have no choice but to help out.

Convincing the elders had been an ordeal, but Shi-chan wasn’t the crows’ best and brightest in vain. There had been this huge conflict where some of the younglings split off to join Shi-chan is his dangerous venture, whilst others refused, and the elders made a huge deal about revising the contract fifty summers’ worth of eggs just to alleviate their self-importance, even though they needed to constantly ask Shi-chan for clarification in regards to some concepts. Luckily, Shisui wasn’t all that keen on actually having a contract, he just cared about giving his father that impression, so he agreed to most of the crows’ outrageous terms without much complaint. Shi-chan knew very well that they’d just made a huge profit, though his idiotic elders kept acting like the contract to Shi-chan’s human would be the end of the world. It really wasn’t. Crows were free to answer Shisui’s call (or not), they could manage the members of their kin that were part of the contract at their own discretion – which in other words meant that their clan would be able to use the contract as bait to lure other crow clans into joining theirs – and there were plenty of additional clauses which ensured that crows which were frequently summoned would immediately benefit from heightened intelligence and chakra-related skills – at their summoner’s expense. Really, they had gotten incredibly lucky.

The only problem was: Shisui didn’t bother to call upon his newly-minted summons at all. He was a good pet, yes, but he barely had need for his summons in battle. The elders were displeased. It was infuriating.

Originally, they hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with ninja in the first place, now they were upset that the status quo was still the same as before signing the contract. Shi-chan did not particularly care one way or another. He was at the point where he understood human speech enough that he could easily imitate the sounds, so he technically could have told Shisui about the problem… but something held him back. The sounds that came out of his beak when he tried to emulate Japanese were, frankly, pathetic. He was a proud crow; one unaccustomed to failure of any sort – and this, undoubtedly, felt like one. His ‘voice’, if one could call it that, was so embarrassing in nature that he would rather not talk at all and continue with his current system of pecking. Still, the elders were displeased with him for not bringing up the problem with Shisui, and he was displeased with himself for failing at the endeavor of speech.

It was in this context that Shi-chan finally met Uchiha Itachi: the first human he ever came to truly respect. 

Since Shi-chan and Itachi both hung out with Shisui, it was obvious that they were bound to meet at one point or another. Which they did. Back then, Shi-chan hadn’t known what to make of Itachi, what to make of those calm, black eyes that had watched him keenly – even though Itachi had asked no questions about him. Shisui had volunteered the information regardless, of course, but Shi-chan hadn’t known Itachi well enough to be able to read into his micro expressions at that point. There was something intimidating about the way in which Uchiha Itachi had watched him though; he couldn’t place why. It was the same feeling one would get when staring at the void for the first time before attempting to fly – that was the feeling Uchiha Itachi’s eyes awakened in him.

To Shi-chan’s understanding, Itachi had been rather young for human standards at the time of their first meeting, and yet the presence about him had made Shi-chan question whether perhaps he had been wrong about human ages? Because Itachi did not appear young to Shi-chan at all, not in his demeanor nor gaze, even if he looked like a child. Of course, Shi-chan had been intrigued about this puzzle, had tried to figure out whether his perceptions of the human world had been wrong after all, but observation had yielded no conclusive results.

As far as he could tell, Shisui was the only person who minimally treated Itachi like someone young, often referring to him as ‘little cousin’ – but he was the only one. The big man with the stern yaw often sat seriously with Itachi and told him what to do in a very adult voice, and Itachi, as far as Shi-chan could tell, would in turn spend a large amount of his time following Stern Yaw’s instructions, doing things like training, reading a lot of boring-looking scrolls, and using his red eyes. 

There was also a female who would cook for Stern Yaw and Itachi, which Shi-chan decided to call Dead Eyes. She would always ask how Stern Yaw and Itachi’s day had gone, but never pried beyond the initial monosyllabic reply from Stern Yaw – or the nod and small smile from Itachi, who was unerringly polite to her, but would never say much beyond that. Perhaps he didn’t know how, Shi-chan concluded. There was always a tint of heavy sadness to the woman’s gaze, especially when Itachi gave her his cursory smile. It was the reason why Shi-chan called her  Dead Eyes, though perhaps Dead Soul would have been a better fit. 

Besides Shisui and those two, there was only one other human Itachi interacted with regularly, and that was the one called Sasuke. Sasuke had no strong yaw and no dead gaze, which is perhaps why Itachi seemed to like him so much. The two made an odd pair: Itachi was always rather mutinous and reserved, with those deep black eyes that seemed to see beyond what was visible, and then there was Sasuke: a willful child, who was unable to look beyond what stood right in front of him, energetic, naive and completely absorbed in the here and now. Shi-chan at first had trouble understanding why those two hung out at all, until he realized that they were nest mates.

Even then, he had a hard time placing Itachi into any of the categories he had taken to divide the human world into. His eyes were those of an old man, but he was silent in a way that most old men weren’t, and though he was short, his face was wrinkle-free and his hair raven black. Those around him treated him like an adult in a business meeting most of the time, so perhaps that’s what he was, despite his shortness, but this guess seemed a little off as well. He didn’t behave like most adults did either. Maybe… maybe he was like Shi-chan. Maybe he was so silent because he didn’t know how to sing. Maybe.

He seemed to be aware that Shi-chan had been following him, but he never said anything on the topic. Shi-chan sometimes wondered how many things Itachi was aware of that he never addressed. Most humans seemed to have a need to make silences go away, but not him. He spoke with his eyes, in the way he looked at the world that was so different from all others, but he rarely used his words. Shi-chan knew his eyes were saying something all the time, something important; he just didn’t know what.

Still waters run deep, he recalled the old human adage often, for it fit Itachi almost too well.

After realizing that Itachi knew he was there, Shi-chan stopped putting as much care into conducting his observations privately. Itachi was always quiet, so Shi-chan never felt bad for not daring to talk in front of him, the way he felt pressured to do in front of Shisui. In fact, this is why he once did talk to him, because he was convinced Itachi would not laugh at him or make a big deal about it.

Itachi did not laugh, but his lip quirked slightly, as though amused. It wasn’t an expression he wore often, but Shi-chan didn’t feel like he was being made fun of.

“You speak,” Itachi had said after a pause.

It was an odd statement to Shi-chan. He found his own crows rather horrendous and a very far call from humans’ melodious voices, and yet Itachi had not said: ‘you can crow’ or ‘he’s cawing’ or anything of the sort. He had said you speak, with no irony in his voice at all, and somehow, that had meant something to Shi-chan.

Hesitantly, he had replied “so I do.”

Itachi had chuckled. “So you do.” He had turned, continuing to stare off into the distance as he was often prone to, inadvertently closing the topic. He hadn’t made a big deal about it, nor put Shi-chan’s ability into question – in fact, his silence suddenly pissed Shi-chan off. He had for so long tried to perfect speech, and now this human – the first he’d ever shown he could talk! – completely disregarded this amazing feat.

He bristled, a second away from pecking Itachi’s ear off, but the ageless boy had turned toward him with that ghost of a smile on his face and asked: “what is it?” and Shi-chan’s attempt was halted. Somehow, he wasn’t sure what to say to Itachi. He was such a strange human, he seemed to transcend the barriers of age and indeed, humanness. He was so different, but not necessarily in a bad way. Itachi cocked his head curiously; he didn’t seem put off by the long silence.

“I’ve never spoken before,” Shi-chan revealed.

“Ah,” Itachi said. “I had wondered.”

He was so frustrating. What had he wondered? What even went on in that human brain of his? Shi-chan wanted to pick it and peck it. He wanted to figure out what on earth was up with Itachi, what his eyes were saying that no one else’s did, whether he was an old man or an adult or a child, or maybe whether he was bits and pieces of them all combined.

One thing about Itachi that had annoyed Shi-chan to no end was that he showered the Uchiha clan’s cats with attention every chance he got. He would happily lower himself to petting those odious felines and even display that elusive smile of his as he did so – and it would drive Shi-chan up the wall. Itachi was not his summoner, Shisui was, and yet he could barely stand the thought that Itachi would dare to debase himself in such a way by bowing to those odious felines’ wishes. Itachi did not seem to mind that they had chosen him to be their human slave and cuddle provider, but Shi-chan couldn’t help but bristle on his behalf. Sometimes he didn’t understand humans at all. 

This thought only grew stronger with Shisui’s death. The first time Shisui summoned him was also the last. 

“Hey bud,” he had greeted. That night, his gaze had been the very same as Dead Eyes’. “You’ll take care of Itachi for me, won’t you?”

Shi-chan had not liked that tone, nor that expression on his face, and he had made it known by pecking Shisui with quite a bit of force. Shisui, his oldest human friend, hadn’t launched into his typical pretend-tears about being pecked. He had smiled, but it was a sad, shrivelled thing. It was then that Shi-chan noticed that he was missing an eye. It had been covered by his hair previously, but then, a breeze had blown his hair to the side, and Shi-chan had come face to face with the empty eye socket. He had been so shaken, so utterly shocked by that sight, that he had not replied at all. 

“Shhh, it’s okay…” Shisui had stroked along his feathers tenderly. “It’s going to be okay… I hope. But I won’t be here to make sure, so… you’ll take care of Itachi for me, right?” 

Words had failed him.

“I know you speak to him, sometimes.” Shi-chan had watched as Shisui began to cry, feeling completely helpless. “Why won’t you ever talk to me?”  He had wanted to say something, but before he could form words, Shisui had gently withdrawn the contract they had once signed from his pouch and gingerly given it to Shi-chan, for him to hold with his beak.  “You might have to force my little cousin to sign that. Itachi can be a little stubborn sometimes… but I know you’ll convince him. He’ll need you to.” And without saying anything else, Shisui had disappeared into the night air. Shi-chan had never seen him again after that.

As per Shisui’s prediction, getting Itachi to sign the contract with him had not been easy. In fact, finding him had been a test of its own, for Itachi had left Konoha soon afterward. It had taken Shi-chan weeks of marshalling every crow within the clan and even some outsiders, but finally they had located him a long way from the nest. His eyes were the first thing Shi-chan noticed. He had seen them before on humans who were despairing. Empty of all. Itachi had never been easy to read, but Shi-chan had always had the impression that an entire world brewed beneath the surface with him… and yet now there was only a nightmarish nothingness . For all his former quiet behavior, this was the first time the silences surrounding Uchiha Itachi were ominous.

But Shi-chan never forgot Shisui’s last request, and he had resolved to honor it to the best of his ability. He strong-armed Itachi into signing the summoning contract with him, he wasn’t even sure how, and they had never been apart after that. Shi-chan had talked and filled the silences because even he couldn’t stand them this time around, and Itachi had mostly listened, but rarely ever smiled anymore. The only reason Shi-chan knew he still listened, still cared, was because one time, Shi-chan had mentioned how annoying his elders were getting, jealous as they were of other animal clans who had greater acquired skills from being contracted to humans for so long, and a while later, Itachi had come up with a jutsu that would link the crows’ thoughts to his own. This jutsu alone helped the crows make immense progress, that would otherwise have taken hundreds of years to achieve, in a few years time. Shi-chan knew that it took away a lot of Itachi’s chakra, but Itachi never bothered to stop using the jutsu. Shi-chan never asked him to, because by linking their minds, the crows were able to shoulder some of his inner pain on their own shoulders. Crows, after all, didn’t typically feel as deeply as a human would. Or at least that is what Shi-chan surmised, because, having linked minds, he could attest to the fact that felt things very, very deeply.

And yet there was little else he could do to help Itachi. Years passed and he never smiled, never did anything other than stare ahead of him with that deadenned gaze, and occasionally choke out blood.

It was then that Sakura-hime had come into the picture. She was the first person who had made Itachi smile – heck, even laugh – since Shisui’s death. She had done so much for him, for them, she likely couldn’t even begin to fathom it. Sakura was a kind person, just like Itachi had been… was, he told himself. Itachi was still kind, his time hanging out with Sakura he reminded Shi-chan of that. 

Hime’s instinct was always to try to cheer Itachi up whenever she picked up on his sadness. And so many of those times, she had succeeded, impossibly. Her methods may have been somewhat questionable – kidnapping cats, painting walls, binge-eating dango, (Shi-chan just knew that Stern Yaw would not have approved) – but undoubtedly they worked. Better than Shi-chan’s ever had, and heck, even Shisui hadn’t been much better at cheering up Itachi.

Sakura-hime, he hecho found, had an almost instinctive understanding of feelings . Her educated guesses tended to be on point most of the time. She sometimes could tell what Itachi was feeling better than Shi-chan himself, who had access to his very thoughts. And Sakura wasn’t passive, either: she acted on those impressions. She may not realize it at all, but she was a balm of the soul – was that the human expression?

Almost as if it were a sign, Sakura had then decided to call Shi-chan, well, Shi-chan – a name that was much more fitting than Karasu, indeed a name that was both a reminder of Shisui and an endearment all rolled into one. Shi-chan had loved the name, and he was under no illusions that Itachi, for all his grumbling, had as well. He had decided then: he had to find a way to make sure Itachi-dono never, ever lost Sakura-hime, because she was the very best thing that had happened to him since Shisui’s passing.  Because Itachi’s life was already so grey and sad, Shi-chan was scared he’d just throw it away one day, and Sakura-hime made it less grey just by being there. He had done all he could – warned Sakura as Itachi was about to leave the village, forced her to sign his contract when she was in danger, risked it all so the snake bastard wouldn't hurt her… and yet it wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t Itachi-dono see how important she was? He should just kidnap her and get it over with! But of course Itachi-dono wouldn’t do that, because he was secretly a wanted criminal and Sakura had no idea.

This is why, when Shi-chan heard the conversation between Sakura and the ANBU, when he realized what was about to happen, that Sakura was about to find out the truth, cold fear gripped him. He had to warn Itachi-dono – now . And without waiting even a moment longer, he took off into the air, intent upon finding his summoner at once.

 

---

 

 

He was three years old, standing in the playground. His mother nudged him forward with an encouraging smile. He stepped toward the playing children. On the other side of the park, a girl was making a sand castle and giggling at it. He picked up a stick and threw it, wondering how good his aim was. The stick flew over his target. He picked up a rock and threw it again. As he had suspected, it was much easier to aim with this projectile. The rock hit the girl on the head and she broke into heaving sobs, her face all blotchy and pink. He watched as the girl’s mother started fussing and everyone turned to stare. Her face was covered in blood… he had done that.

His mother had seen him, however, and she was angry. She scolded him very much for forever . He promised her he wouldn’t do it again, and he meant it. It wasn’t worth the hassle.

And it really wasn’t. When he turned four, his mother sent him to the ninja Academy. Every morning, before letting him scamper off, she would make him promise that he would be good. She was such an annoying person sometimes. He always said ‘yes, mom’ because if he didn’t she would blow a gasket, but secretly he regretted throwing that rock at the stupid girl. Now his mother wouldn’t leave him alone about being good – her constant diatribes were such a nuisance. She made him waste so much time on them. Luckily, as he got older, she let up, a little bit. And then she became distracted, happily. He was sitting at the dinner table when they told him:

“Shibu-kun. We have to tell you something…” his father began anxiously.

“What is it?” he asked, looking at his parent’s faces for clues. They seemed nervous.

“Well…” his father said, scratching his head.

“You’ll be getting a little brother soon, Shibu-kun!” his mother cooed. “Isn’t that great?”

He nodded and went back to his rice. It would keep his mother off his neck, if nothing else.

As predicted, his parents were too busy preparing for the baby’s arrival to pay much attention to him, and so he got his father to sign the permission slip for testing out of the Academy, passing it off as one for a field trip. His father had been too stressed out to pay attention; Shibuimaru was starting to appreciate the baby. 

A  few months later, he graduated from the Academy as both rookie of the year and youngest of his class. A man handed him a headband and patted him on the head. “Well, well, look at that. Lazy as can be, but still getting the top spot, huh?”

He nodded and deadpanned “guess so”. The man chuckled and he chuckled back. Idiot. Let him think that he was ‘lazy’, if it pleased him. The man ruffled his hair again as if he were a pet and prattled out some other pleasantries. Shibuimaru listened to them with a fake smile plastered on his face  and left as soon as he could.

On the way home, a boy asked him for directions. The boy had a foreigner's accent, but wanted to know where he could sign up to enroll in the Academy. Shibuimaru gave the kid a once over. Dirty blonde hair, dirty skin, dirty clothes, and an accent that sounded just as dirty as the rest of him. There was no way this kid was going anywhere, and he wasn’t one to waste his time with side characters like him. However, he was in a good mood, one could say. He had just graduated, top of his class, and the boy had been very deferential in his request. His polite ‘shinobi-san?’ followup question finally did the trick and Shibuimaru shrugged, lazily giving the other directions, though he wasn’t magnanimous enough to bother adding that they would do the boy little good. A foreigner nobody like him would never be accepted into the ranks of the elite. Especially not in the middle of a war, where mistrust against immigrants was at an all-time high. The boy bowed and gave him a grateful smile. Shibuimaru smirked back. Loser.

He arrived home that day to find chaos and people running around the house. The paper walls were thin and he could clearly hear his mother screaming bloody murder. He went to look at what was going on, but some old lady that had been visiting the house a lot lately didn’t let him inside of his parents’ room. He nodded, pretending to go along with it,  and then utilized his chakra climbing skills to sneak in through the ceiling over the door while the old lady wasn’t looking. 

He had never seen anyone give birth before, but it looked unpleasant… not to mention that the room smelled like a pigsty. This wasn’t such a wonder, seeing as his mother was sweating buckets and there was blood on the bed. Also, someone had puked into a basin, likely his father, seeing as he looked rather green. His mother was very pale  and disheveled, and she didn’t look strong enough to be doing any puking… the rest of the adults were just fluttering around the room like terrified little ants. None had noticed his entrance, which Shibuimaru counted as a win. He honed in on the thing that wasn’t coming out right out of – ew – and then stared at the doctor lady, who was muttering about “complications”. 

His father was looking quite ready to be sick again, or maybe faint. Shibuimaru inched forward. Complications. He knew what that meant. A part of him – a strong part of him – wanted to stab the stupid baby with his brand new kunai until it was dead, so that the whole situation could be fixed. He knew that he would never get very far with that plan, though.

“Hello, Kaa-san.” He dropped from the ceiling and into his mother’s line of sight and watched her. Had the process of giving birth to Shibuimaru been that disgusting? 

“Shib-Shibu-kun! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, her voice rough with pain. “G-go away!”

He ignored the last statement. “There was a lot of noise… I wanted to see why you were screaming.”

His mother watched him, again with that bewildered look of hers – but it was quickly washed away by the pain. Eventually his father seemed to grow a pair and return to the land of the living, if only to commandeer Shibuimaru out of the room. 

He was allowed to go back inside a while later. Apparently, one of the doctors had had to cut his mother open so that the baby could come out. It would have been easier the other way around, he still found, inspecting the ugly pink blob with distaste. It bore a certain resemblance, skin-tone wise, to that girl’s face when he’d thrown a rock at her that one time. He was allowed to hold the prune-like thing, finding it to weigh approximately three kilograms, and bowed right then that he was never going to have children of his own, period. But then the baby’s little fingers clasped around his own index with a lot more strength than he’d anticipated. It was a bit of a revelation. The thing wasn’t just a blob, he understood, this thing that only seemed to know how to scream and be ugly – it was actually somebody who could clutch his finger like a pro wrestler.

“Shibu-kun,” his father interrupted his musings. “Be careful while holding him. That’s your little brother, you know.”

Shibuimaru shrugged and passed the baby off to him like a hot potato. He was not about to risk getting into trouble with mother just for holding the pink, pro-wrestling prune. His brother, he supposed.

 

 

 

He met the foreigner boy again a few months later. The immigrant was working in a tea house that Shibuimaru frequented, likely having realized that the Academy was not for him. Shibuimaru wouldn’t have remembered him if not for the fact that he had been the first person to address him as a shinobi.

“Given up on the ninja thing, huh?” he asked the foreigner.

The boy shook his head, much to his surprise. He disliked being wrong.

“You’re going to the Academy then?”

“Yeah!” The boy smiled cheerfully. “It wasn’t easy, getting in. But I had some help and…” 

Loser. Shibuimaru tuned the foreigner’s prattling out, his accent pissing him off. Even if he’d managed to get in, the clanless ilk never would make it far, so there was no reason to act like he gave a damn. He shrugged and drank his tea, not even bothering to pretend like he was paying attention. At some point, the blonde seemed to realise this, because the cheerful smile was replaced by a frown, and then, when Shibuimaru gave him a dirty look, he got the message and left. About time he did, too.

Once Shibuimaru was done with his tea, he placed the cup at his table and turned to go. When he was at the door, he glimpsed the immigrant picking up the cup after him and putting it gingerly on a tray. For a moment, their eyes met. The foreigner tried for one last friendly smile but Shibuimaru couldn’t be bothered, and rolled his eyes as he stepped outside. Little did he know that the next time he would speak to the immigrant would be on the day that ruined his career.

He’d been fifteen and a chunin looking to get promoted. For his jonin examination, he would be in charge of completing a mission as captain of a squad made up of other chunin. A single jonin was there to evaluate him, though he didn’t know which of the chunin was the fake. Things had seemed to be going well, Shibuimaru could almost taste the sweetness of the promotion in his tongue, when his prospects were threatened by a large platoon of attacking enemies that burst through the foliage. He fought alongside the rest of his comrades, but they died one after the other – including whom he thought must have been the jonin – all, except for one: a blonde boy. The blonde boy. The one from the tea shop. Shibuimaru would only make the connection later on, after hearing the hokage address the boy by his name, but in that moment, all that was rushing through his head was survival, followed closely with a drive to save his promotion chances. The only way he saw that happening now, after such a disaster, was if he did something to fix it. And to do that, he would have to find out what the ninja had wanted to accomplish in the first place and if there were more of them still in the area.

He began ruffling through the pouches of the dead assailants in hopes of finding a mission scroll of some kind and was successful. There were in fact two teams of Kumogakure nin attacking Konoha and they were after one specific target, some girl he didn’t know, nor why kidnapping her should be so important. He didn’t need to guess over much for under her name, the words KYUBI had been underlined three times. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that they were after Konoha’s tailed beast, locked inside this girl – and from the looks of it, the other team of kumo nin was about to succeed in their endeavor.

Shibuimaru would have to make sure the girl wasn’t killed or kidnapped if he wanted to secure his promotion. The blonde boy, who looked more like a genin than a chunin, had been reading over his shoulder and apparently knew the girl, if the way in which he paled was anything to go by.

“We need to stop them,” the blonde urged vehemently.

Shibuimaru breathed in deeply. Yes, but therein lay the issue. The area in which the capture of the Kyubi would take place was a long ways off. Even a team of ANBU might not have gotten there in time, never mind them . Shibuimaru held no illusions about his own speed. He was fast, but not that fast.

Damn it. “We won’t make it,” he said through gritted teeth. Worse: provided they managed to capture the girl, the Kumo nin could take numerous routes to leave Fire Country. Without a sensor, Hyuga or Inuzuka with them, discerning which escape route the Kumo non would pick was virtually impossible; they wouldn’t even know where to go.

A strange look entered the blond’s eyes then. “No. But we don’t have to.”

Shibuimaru ignored him, rather focused on trying to come up with a plan, but his concentration was broken a moment later when he realized what the boy was doing. First he noted the smell – that of a fire accelerant used for drills in the Academy – then the glow of a match.

Shibuimaru’s eyes widened and he just… stopped. The boy – was about to –

The blonde was indeed holding the thin wood of the matchstick and staring at it with a distant expression in his eye, as the fire burnt closer and closer to his finger until – he let go. The flickering little flame fell, and fell and fell – right into the fire accelerant.

Shibuimaru could have stopped him then. He could have.

“The wind is blowing from the southwest,” the boy said, as they both watched the flames begin to engulf the forest around them. It meant that the fire would spread toward the northern east corner of the forest… cutting off all exit routes to Kumo. The smoke would make breathing much harder, which in turn would considerably slow any team trying to leave Fire Country as well… In other words, there was only one location that such a team would be able to exit through, especially if that team were headed toward Kumogakure, one location which was the ideal place for an ambush: the Niwa cliffs. With the help of the flames, they could make that ambush occur very easily. It was a sound strategy. Shibuimaru shot a sharp side glance at the blonde, hesitating. He could use his wind techniques to boost the fire,  but if he did that, there’d be no going back. They were on the verge of committing large-scale arson, possibly murder of any genin teams that got caught up too close to the fire…

In other words, Shibuimaru had a choice – his promotion, or the forest.

It was never even a choice in the first place.

Himself and the arsonist blonde rushed toward the Niwa cliffs, the entire age-old woods burning to cinders around them, wildlife dying everywhere. Shibuimaru set a punishing pace, so he was startled when the younger civilian boy passed him by, running even harder. He upped his speed as well; both of them rushing through the forest and flames, neither looking back. All the while he wondered though – why would the boy have done this? A large area of Hashirama’s only legacy had just been lost… how many trees, wildlife, parts of history… had died because of that one matchstick? Shibuimaru didn’t necessarily care about the lost animals and trees, but most of the other people he knew would have made a fuss about it. Why not him?

By the time they made it to the cliff side, it was night. The smell of smoke filled the area, an unbearable heat encroaching their bodies like mortal fever. They set their traps. They found a hiding place. They waited.

And then the Kumo nin came crashing in. Leaping from the trees silently, Shibuimaru launched toward the leader and killed him before he could blink. His teammates attempted to enact revenge, but he wouldn’t let them. He slaughtered one after the other, relishing in their startled expressions when they realized their life was no more. He got so lost in the rush of it that he only realized later on that the blonde was gone and he was all alone now, surrounded by gore and blood. The fire crackled ominously around him. Smoke covered the stars. If the fight had continued for just a little longer, he would have had no way out. That damned kid left and didn’t even warn him?

He found the boy and the Kyubi girl a ways off, crouching quietly beneath the shadows of a tree about a mile away. Before them was a clearing, but  in this one, the dead were from Konoha’s side. A jonin Shibuimaru had often taken missions under lay limply against a tree, his head rolling around a ways off. More corpses littered the forest floor in similar fashions. There were large dents in the trees and ground – like someone had taken a gigantic chain made up of burning metal and lobbed it around – as well as scorched earth and withered plants. It looked like the girl’s former team had put up quite the fight against the Kumo scums. He glanced over at her.

The monster’s host. Her entire figure was caked in blood, save for the white of her sclera and patches of skin that peaked out. She was long-haired, though the color was hard to tell, as it looked like solid blood. 

“Can you walk?” the blonde spoke up, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder – rather idiotic, seeing as the monster was clearly unstable. “Kushina,” the blonde insisted gently, appearing completely oblivious to the danger he was putting himself in. He jostled her shoulder a little. “Kushina, please… talk to me.”

The girl did not try to harm him, oddly enough, though she seemed rather dead to the world, her chakra roiling the air ominously. The blonde must be completely idiotic because he did not budge, instead proceeding to hand the girl his canteen – even though he had to be thirsty as hell – and a soldier pill along with a ration bar to munch on. Even as she began to slowly drink, the girl seemed completely out of it. Then she choked and the precious water came spilling out, along with hoarse sobs.

“T-they died for me…” Her broken words confirmed his assumption: the carnage before them was the girl’s team. He cared more about the fact that the fire was closing in on them though. There was no time for her to cry her little eyes out.

“Do us all a favor and get up,” he told the girl coldly. “We must hurry.”

Turning like a whip, the blond shot him a murderous look, the flickering of the red fire reflected eerily upon his baby blue eyes. Shibuimaru almost took a step back in surprise at the expression of absolute murder on his face.

The next second, however, it was gone, replaced by something much softer. “Can you walk?” the boy repeated again, scanning the girl for injuries. “It’s okay, Kushina… I can carry you…”

She shook her head slowly, finally seeming to come out of her stupor. “No… I can walk. Run, if I need to.” She turned to glance back at the blonde. “Thank you though… thank you, Minato.”

Around them, the forest burned.

Shibuimaru knew deep in his gut that, even if they’d saved the Kyubi from capture, the hokage would not be pleased with his execution. He had been the lead on the mission, so the responsibility of burning the forest would be on him… unless he did something about it. This is why he made sure to paint the blonde as the arsonist in his report and highlight his own lack of involvement in coming up with the strategy.

He was called to the hokage’s office a few hours after turning it in. Shibuimaru was made to wait for a very long time in front of the large mahogany desk whilst the sandaime paged through a text, his presence solemn and silent.

“Nara-san,” he said, at last, very seriously. “The accusations made in your report are grave.”

Shibuimaru understood the subtext immediately. “You don’t believe me?”

“That poor boy is incapable of such a thing,” Hiruzen said dismissively. “I have talked to him. Do you realize what you have put him through by threatening him into silence as you have? It was foolish to think that I wouldn’t get behind this.”

Shibuimaru was frozen in shock.

“Wh-what? I – what are you talking about? I didn’t–”

The hokage raised his hand, an unamused expression on his face, and Shibuimaru cut himself off.

“If you are prepared to torch one of the last reminders of our great shodaime for the sake of a mission, then please be upfront about it,” the sandaime spat coldly. “And do not presume you can lie to me ever again.”

“I’m not!” Shibuimaru snapped, but he could tell already that he would not be believed. Alright, yes, he had used his jutsu to make the fire grow, but the idea had not been his. And yes, he had tried to put all the blame on that other boy, but – this? Just what was this? It seemed as if the blonde had responded to his tactic by doing the exact same thing – to him.

 

He was dismissed from the office shortly after. The hokage had warned him: ‘the only reason I am not revoking your forehead protector is because you saved important village property. But one more lie in one of your reports, Nara…’

Murmurs followed him out of the tower. People were already whispering about him being the supposed arsonist. He gritted his teeth and shakily breathed out.

That was the day he truly learned the boy’s name, and the day he learned to hate it as well.

Namikaze Minato.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

When Sakura woke up, she was startled to find herself within a building of some kind. At first, she was dazed. What had happened? Then it came back to her: losing Ino in the crowd, back at her birthday party, but sticking to Hinata. Their trip through the woods and then the eerie Uchiha compound, arriving to the Hyuga clan, then her excursion through those tunnels that seemed to be everywhere, expanding like an enormous maze fo roots beneath the village. She had made it unscathed to the Academy thanks to those tunnels, where she’d fought against five opponents. She remembered the tension that came with the knowledge that death was a possibility, the horror of spotting Iruka bleeding out on the floor… the sheer relief upon seeing that the kids were fine…

What came next was a little blurry… She’d hugged Hanabi… then that Nara boy had told her that every civilian that has evacuated beneath the hokage mountain was in danger, as it had been taken over by sound and sand nin. Sakura looked around, uneasy. Just… where was she? And what had happened after that? Her head felt so woozy…

She sat up, looking around, but wherever she was, it was too dark for her to make out anything. Suddenly, she recalled Iruka’s heartbreaking expression – him thinking that he wasn’t enough, comparing himself to Kakashi-sensei – and immediately that memory tied in with the conversation she’d had next: the one with the ANBU. The one in which…

Her breath hitched. The one in which she’d found out… in which the man had told her… that her dear Stalker-san, that Tetsuya, that Ita-kun, had been lying to her. Had been lying all along.

That he was Uchiha Itachi. 

 

“That man… he killed all my family.” She remembered Sasuke’s words with a heavy heart. “He killed them. For no discernible reason. Just to prove that he could, Sakura. Just because. And so he killed them. His own parents. Our parents. Our aunts. Our neighbours. He – killed them all.”

 

And that man… that was the one Sakura had offered to share her dango with? The one she had worried about? The one she’d attempted to comfort? She stared into the darkness, feeling as if it were about to choke her. She could scarcely believe it, but the idea that Tetsuya was in fact Uchiha Itachi wouldn’t leave her, was starting to sink in.

 

Was he not an exceptionally strong ninja, even for someone his age? Had she not met him at a lake which she now knew to be located right next to the empty Uchiha compound? Had he not asked her repeatedly why she’d come up with the excuse that he was Sasuke’s older brother, back when she’d introduced him to her parents?

 

Sakura felt as though the size of her lungs has suddenly been drastically reduced; she couldn’t get enough air. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. There was no way, right? No way she could have been so stupid as to miss all those obvious signs, as to not realize… there had to be some explanation. Something obvious she was missing. Anything.

And yet she had exhausted all of her arguments back when she’d been talking to the ANBU–

Wait! The ANBU! Suddenly, she remembered how he’d mocked her and then knocked her out and she sat up, suddenly frantic. Her heart was pounding in her chest. What did he want? Where had he gone?! As awareness returned to her, so too did her fear. In the minute or so she had spent thinking about Tetsuya and that he couldn’t possibly be Itachi Uchiha, her eyes had grown used to the dark. This, however, did little to aid her in ascertaining where she was.

She chanced a glance around the area. It was still dark… she could only make out the vague outlines of a corridor of some kind and that she was lying on the floor. She stood up with some effort. She had been lying awkwardly on top of her leg and now it hurt. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed before. Still, she managed to get to her feet and braze against one of the walls. Now from a higher vantage point, she examined her surroundings once again. It was still as dark as earlier, but now she noticed that, for all that the ceiling and walls were bare of any embellishments, the floor tiles were decorated, some dark in color, some the same as the walls. The odd choice in decor seemed rather irrelevant in the face of being kidnapped by an ANBU, so she paid it little mind. She must be in one of the passages beneath the hokage mountain, Sakura concluded. Though no one else was around. Perhaps the ANBU had just knocked her out so he could do his job and get the reinforcements Kakashi had asked for?

If that was the case, leaving the area would likely not please him at all, but… was it worth the risk? What if he was a bad guy? A part of her doubted that was even possible – he was ANBU! – but what if? Maybe she could just leave and then say she’d been looking for the bathroom…

 

And so, quietly, Sakura resolved to make her way across the corridor. That’s right, she remembered. I need to find Mom and  Dad. Everything else was secondary to that. She’d been so busy frantically planning her next steps that the slipperiness of the floor surprised her and she slipped. A shriek escaped her as she fell. A moment later she’d landed, face first. Everything hurt, that’s what first registered, but then – warmth. It was warm… and thick… this liquid… Sakura sat up bolt straight and tried to get away from the blood, but in doing so only dipper both of her hands in. She began to hyperventilate.

What was this? What had happened? Her entire front was now beginning to get cold, as the blood sipped into the material of her yukata. She was dripping it.

 

“H-haruho…?” A voice that sounded too groggy to be all there shook her out of her reverie. She almost didn’t hear it due to her loud panting.

Sakura turned toward it, but couldn’t discern quite where it came from.

“Yes?” she squeaked.

“G-get help…” was the slurred reply. The speaker was the ANBU captain, Sakura realized. She’d had trouble placing his faint call, so very different from the crisp tones he’d issued earlier. Glancing around, beyond his body on the floor, Sakura could see others. More of them. She stared at them, then back at the captain.

“W-what happened to you?” she croaked out in horror, even as she crawled toward him, trying not to slip on the blood that stained the corridor floor. It had never been a strange choice of decor. It was death in its crassest form.

“S-Spy,” was the grunted reply. “That man… I left behind…”

Sakura’s eyes widened. The man who had taken her here? It must have been him who had dropped her on the floor of that corridor, but to what end?

“He was… carrying you…” the ANBU captain continued. “But he put you down… to fight us. That is no normal ANBU… Haruno… He’s… strong…”   He was barely audible at the end of the sentence. Sakura swallowed. What did that man want with her? It was clear he must have dropped her so he could have both hands free to fight… but why not pick her back up afterward? There was no doubt that he had won, had decimated an entire ANBU squad on his own… Sakura frowned. It suddenly occurred to her how drowsy she’d initially felt upon waking up, and then she nearly facepalmed. Of course! He must have placed her under a genjutsu! That was why he had been fine with just leaving her there after going through all that trouble – he must be intending to come back later to collect her again.

She swallowed thickly. “Sir, what now?” She glanced down at the ANBU captain’s shadowed visage, but there was no movement. “Sir?”

He muttered something intelligible.

Sakura shook him. “Sir?! What do I do?!

“Akane…” the man sighed. Sakura’s eyebrows pinched in dismay.

“Please – I need to know what to do! What I can do!”

“Akane… I should’ve listened to you…” the ANBU captain murmured weakly. He appeared completely out of it. Sakura stared at him. His skin felt absolutely cold and clammy to the touch. She did not need to be an experienced shinobi to know that this man was on the verge of death. 

“Sir…” she whispered hollowly, all other words clogging in her throat. Sakura didn’t know the man, had never met him before today – but the ANBU captain had believed her, believed in her innocence, had told her that she had done a great deal of good that day and not to forget it. Those words, coming from someone like him, had really meant something to her, meant that she wasn’t just a useless little nothing, that her efforts had paid off. When Iruka had told her that she likely qualified for a field promotion, a small part of her had daydreamed of proving herself by working under this man one day, as one of the fearsome protectors that guarded Konoha from the shadows. Not even one hour later, her prospective captain was… Her hands moved to his pulse point, noticing suddenly that he had stopped muttering. There was no pulse.

Sakura swallowed and felt tears prickling in her eyes. They were for the good man who had just died, for herself, for this Akane he had spoken of so tenderly, and for the heartbreak that awaited her… Sakura cried. She cried for perhaps a minute, but then her tears dried out and she got up. She was an expert at crying, but this also meant that she knew it wouldn’t bring her anything. 

Should she stay there, the man would come back for her. She needed to move. With one hand pressed to the wall, she carefully stepped over the corpses of the ANBU squad, heart pounding in her throat as she tried not to slip. Apart from the captain, she counted five of them. All of them, besides the traitor. Her stomach sank. She called out quietly, hoping at least one of them would answer, but they were all dead or almost dead. None could help her. The fact that there was enough blood on the corridor for her exposed toe fingers to have a soak was all the confirmation she’d needed: she was completely alone once again. Alone in enemy territory.

Paired with this thought came the instinctive pull to outstretch her senses to the maximum, trying to pick up on any chakra signatures that were close by. She was by no means a sensor on par with the Hyuga, but she had enough experience that the large chunk of chakra signatures a small ways off was impossible to miss. These must be the trapped civilians, chief among which were her parents, she reasoned immediately. With this harrowing thought flashing through her mind, Sakura quickened her pace, rounding a corner and then another as she picked forks in the tunnels according to what her sensing was telling her. A large part of her wished for the crows to be there with her, most of all because they made her fear go away, but alas they were not, and Sakura was not stupid enough to try summoning them into the crampened, dark tunnel space, where they would be unable to fly and unable to see, more sitting ducks than indeed she herself was. 

It was in this moment that she rounded one last corner and her heart froze. Sakura quickly retreated behind the safety of the tunnel wall, but she could not forget what she’d just seen. Civilians in the thousands were gathered within one large room, pressed together like cattle, the smell of fear and sweat pungent in the air. Leaf ninja were stationed all over the room, and for a moment Sakura felt incredibly relieved – the evacuation site hadn’t been taken over after all! She was just about to reveal herself to them out of sheer relief when the images of the ANBU squads corpses filtered through her brain, followed shortly by Kakashi’s favorite adage: “a good ninja must always look underneath the underneath”. 

Sakura thought about this and concluded that if she were a sound nin trying to take a large group of civilians hostage, she would likely have disguised herself as a leaf operative in order to keep them calm and compliant. But that meant that the enemy nin were bound to have a means to kill them all at the drop of a hat in order for the threat to be effective…

Sakura thought quickly and then it came to her. Of course! Explosive tags. If she was correct in her assumptions, then– 

 

“Well, well, well, look who managed to escape my genjutsu.”

Sakura turned blindingly fast and found herself face to face with– 

This voice, she thought with horror. It had been slightly muffled earlier, but certainly it belonged to the one who had kidnapped her! The fake ANBU!

She stared at the guy with wide eyes, something about him familiar.  “Who are you?” She was certain she’d seen him before, but now, in the dark and wiht all her fear she couldn’t place the face. 

“That is neither here nor there,” the man said. “After all, we wouldn’t want a clever little mouse like you to tattle about me to the authorities, now would we? ”

Sakura gulped, even as her hand slowly inched toward her kunai pouch.

“Brave little thing,” the ANBU said, laughing. “You truly believe you stand a chance against me? To do what an entire squad of trained ANBU failed to?”

Sakura’s teeth gritted, her hand halting its attempt. “You were pretending to be one of them. It’s not hard to kill the people who would turn their backs to you, and it doesn’t make you strong. It just makes you a coward.”

She almost hated herself for saying those words. It was brave, yes, but stupid. Provoking such a powerful foe clearly was not a winning strategy, but Sakura had run her mouth before she could even remember to exercise restraint. To her surprise, the ANBU didn’t seem offended.

“It isn’t cowardly,” he said simply, “it’s ninja. What do you think I am, girl, a samurai?” Sakura stared at him in silence. “No. I am a ninja,” the man said. “Ninja are creatures of shadow. Deceit is our trade. Just because Konoha likes to act like its ninja are the embodiment of goodness doesn’t mean it’s true. In fact, it’s just another layer of deceit. A trick to insure absolute loyalty from stupid little genin like you, as well as bring in th emorally righteous clients who want ninja for a job but don’t want to admit to themselves that they are willing to endorse cowardly backstabbers by trade,” he smiled at her. “But we are all of those things, for this is the system that sustains us.”

Sakura thought of the mission to Wave Country, of how Kakashi had wanted to sacrifice his life so that they could get away, but then how Naruto and Sasuke had done the opposite, how everyone had come together to fight, no matter how abysmal their odds.

“You’re wrong,” Sakura spoke decisively. “Konoha isn’t like that. You’re just saying all those things out of spite.”

The man began laughing. “Out of spite? And you, a green-around the ears genin, would know better than me? My dear Sakura, I grew up in the bowels of this very village. I spent my childhood here, in the darkest shadows. I have seen all this village is capable of, and let me tell you: just because you lived a privileged little life in your suburban neighbourhood, just because you were lucky enough to be placed on a team with ninja that were strong enough that they could afford to be kind – that does not mean that any of what I have said is a lie. It simply means you have been lucky: that’s all.”

Sakura stared blankly at him. She wasn’t sure what to say to that, but she was impatient to get out of there, to go to her parents… The man seemed to notice. 

“Oh? Not interested in seeing what’s right in front of you? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve done a rather stellar job of missing the obvious so far.”

Sakura again did not reply to that. If possible, she’d avoid the Itachi Uchiha topic altogether. No. She wanted to get back on track, wanted to demand that the man  and his allies release all of the civilians, especially her parents, but she knew just how pointless that would be. He was stronger than her, more experienced than her… better in every way. Taking down a few chunin because they weren’t expecting her approach was one thing – but beating an ANBU who was fully expecting her? She unconsciously took a step back. What now? What should she do? What could she even do?

The man chuckled. “I see you’re not as stupid as I first assumed. You realize the situation you are in?”

Sakura nodded shortly.

“Well then. Since you are clearly capable of breaking my genjutsu, I suppose I will have to get creative. Do you see all of those civilians over there? There is a red paper bomb planted in their midst.” The ANBU paused. “As luck would have it, I happen to know that your parents are civilians, Saskura-chan. I know as well as you do that if the explosive goes off, the ceiling will collapse upon us all and every single one of the civilians will die – including your parents… Not to mention that at least one of those ostentatious face statues your village so venerates will be completely destroyed.”

Sakura’s eyes were wide. She had known there might be explosive tags inside, but such strong ones? She didn’t know what he meant by red paper bomb, but there was an itch in her brain, almost as if a part of her did know. Almost as if she had heard it before, or seen one of those bombs in action. She knew then, instinctively, that one of those explosives would be enough to demolish the entire hokage mountain.

“Wouldn’t you die as well if it goes off?” she demanded desperately. “This is a bluff!” It had to be. It had to be.

“No, it’s not,” the man replied. “You see, Sakura, I am a medic nin. There is little on this earth that would be able to kill me. Falling debris is definitely not a candidate, but it definitely would kill everyone else here, including you.”

“It would kill your own soliders!” Sakura bellowed. “I’m not an idiot! I know that those aren’t really leaf nin in there! They’re just oto and suna shinobi! You’d be killing them too!”

The ANBU smirked. “Not bad, Sakura. I can see why your Academy file claims you to be intelligent, even despite all evidence to the contrary. However, you are still thinking like a brainwashed imbecile, not like a ninja.”

“Oh, yeah? It sounds to me like you’re just bluffing,” Sakura choked out, though frankly she wasn’t sure anymore. 

“I am not, and this is quite simple to illustrate. Tell me, Sakura: what is a ninja, but a tool? Tools are taken care of and employed based upon their usefulness. Do you truly think Orochimaru-sama would have picked anyone who wasn’t expendable for this job?”

Sakura stared at him, horrified. “People aren’t expendable! Stop talking like that!”

“Perhaps you should have thought twice before joining the Academy if that’s your outlook, Sakura,” the ANBU said with a sly glint in his eyes. “Why do you think you were placed in a squad with the village’s greatest assets? Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi… and then a nobody like you? Why not a clan heiress like Yamanaka Ino or Hyuga Hinata? Have you never wondered about that?”

“It’s because I made top kunoichi!” Sakura snapped. She had cheated to accomplish this, yes, but she still had.

“And did you  truly not find it a little strange that the noble clans would stand for a little nobody like you to take the top kunoichi spot from their daughters, hm? Everything that transpires in this village happens for a reason, silly. And that reason is: team seven is a target. A target so large that the last member would be in very grave danger just for their connections to the other three alone, as I have previously explained to you.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help but listen to the words, odious as they were. It did make sense, in a perverse sort of way–

“I can see you are starting to understand. The hokage himself thinks you are expendable. That is why you were made top kunoichi. Not for any merit of your own, but rather because the position is a death warrant. The expected probability of you dying was high, and a risk the village had accounted for. You, Haruno Sakura, are the most expendable of all.” He smiled at her softly. “And it is very brave of you to fight for all these people, but isn’t it also a little stupid? They don’t care at all what happens to you, so why should you care in turn? Why fight for the village, when you have your family to worry about?” He paused, as if waiting for his words to sink in. “Do you understand me, Sakura? Around the corner is a fuinjutsu expert who is ready to set off the explosives the moment you try something. So tell me. Knowing that you are risking the lives of those that matter to you… knowing that this village considers you as expendable as a nail clipper… you won’t be foolish enough to try and put up a fight, hm? I promise if you behave, your parents will be fine.”

Sakura couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared at the man in horror, her mind completely still. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself if, in trying to save her parents, she wound up setting off the explosion that killed them – but it sounded like there was nothing she could do. This never happened to the heroes in the stories. They always came up with some sort of last minute plan – and yet she was drawing a blank. She felt so useless. 

“Good,” the man said, smirking. “It seems you finally seem to realize the situation you’re in.” 

It was then, with that expression on his face, that something in Sakura clicked and she finally recognized the guy. She remembered the weird nerd who had chatted her, Naruto and Sasuke up whilst they were waiting for the first exam to begin: Ibiki’s test. He had offered to let them look at his special ninja information cards… Sakura remembered that she’d been relieved at the time that someone who looked grown up would help them, even just a little, but now she felt stupid. She should have known that nothing ever comes for free. Of course the guy had an agenda… 

But she wasn’t dumb enough to tell him that she now recalled his name. He seemed intent upon keeping her alive for now, Sakura wasn’t sure why, but now that she knew he was a spy and who he was, she also realized that he might kill her if he thought her knowledge would compromise his position. Yes, she remembered his name well – or at least the one he’d introduced himself with. It had been Kabuto. Yakushi Kabuto. She felt real anger beginning to boil within her. That this guy – this fucking son of a bitch – had dared to go prancing around acting all nice and rookie-friendly just to get close to her team, to use them as pawns in his little game… She felt her jaw clenching so hard it hurt. Sakura had not forgotten what Kabuto had said about her team earlier, and about every member’s usefulness. No doubt he had pondered the subject extensively. No doubt he had been in that exam because he wanted to hurt them. Hurt Naruto and Sasuke.

If there was one positive thing about Sakura being obsessed with pleasing Sasuke all of these past few years, then it was that she had learned to control her bouts of anger to perfection. Inwardly, a frustrated maelstrom may be raging, but outwardly nothing showed. Perhaps this excessive filtering of her true emotions may have made Sakura look a little vapid and shallow all of these years, but it came in handy now. Because Kabuto did not notice the anger reaching its boiling point until it was too late: one moment Sakura had just been staring at him with a glazed look in her eye – apparently frightened – the next she’d gone off at him like the devil incarnate.

Her attack was so sudden that she managed to land the first hit. He who strikes first wins. Iruka-sensei’s words echoed in her mind, even as her body slowly fell back to the floor. She could barely believe what she’d done, and from the looks of it, neither could Kabuto. Her heart pounded in her ears like war drums, her fingers trembling, the feeling of squishiness still attached to them like a phantom breeze.

Sakura could feel herself getting a little dizzy as she kept staring, slowly retreating. What had she just done?

The form of the crane. She remembered Tetusya – Uchiha Itachi teaching it to her. It was just an exercise, like everything else had been. Never had she considered what it might mean to use this form on an actual opponent.

I found a way to use my small height to my advantage, Tets – Itachi had said. Being short makes adult opponents lower their guard, something I have no doubt your appearance will aid in. Such opponents won’t expect your attacks to reach past their shoulders. That is why a short opponent has one chance to strike a mortal blow upon the larger foe – even if the latter is much stronger. But only one. Sakura, if you ever find yourself in such a situation, you must make it count. 

Sakura stared, horrified, at Kabuto, who was palming his face. The phantom tingling was still in her fingers. She had not killed him. She had succeeded but she hadn't pushed in enought. She couldn’t. She stared and stared at what she had done, feeling like she was about to puke.

The neck is too obvious and usually an area that will be protected by armour. This makes the brain the easiest weak spot to exploit in such a situation. It can be injured either through blunt force trauma if you can manage to get behind them, or if you are launching a frontal attack, then… there is a form that will help you. I named it the Striking Crane as a child, for your fingers must be like the sharpest beak to succeed. 

He had shown her the form and Sakura had dutifully practiced it. She had never imagined using it. Now she knew what he had omitted, for she had experienced it first hand. The form had many sequences and different palm strikes, but the ending… 

Bottom line: the brain can be reached through the eyes.

Only after she’d dug her fingers into Kabuto’s eye sockets had Sakura truly realized the purpose behind this stance of the form. Only after she’d felt them cave, after her fingers had gone deeper still through those two hollow– ( like the sharpest beak) –Sakura had remembered Sasuke, eyeless – what seeing him like that had been like – and she’d stopped. There should have been no reason to. This had been her one chance to kill Kabuto, an opponent that was so much stronger than her. She had already killed those men at the Academy. Death was the common denominator. She was a ninja, by kami. She had to do this. If she had done it once she could do it again; it shouldn’t matter how she went about achieving it – and yet it did. And yet she had stopped before her fingers could dig into his brain. 

Kabuto was still alive.

And that was a grave mistake. He had mentioned he was a medic, which meant he could likely do control damage better than anyone. With a savage howl he leapt toward her, anger and pain reflected upon every part of his being, and next second Sakura had been hit by his strangely glowing palm. She felt like lightning had struck right upon her stomach, where he had hit, and then she was flying backwards, into a wall.

He lifted her up by his collar, and she looked into his sunken remains for eyes.

“You’re going to regret that, Haruno Sakura.” It was a promise, she could tell.

The next second, Kabuto had turned his head, as if concentrated on something, and then shouted:

“Rasna! Get over here.”

It sounded like a fearsome name and Sakura wondered who would come. Now it was too against one, even worse than– 

Her train of thought promptly halted the moment Yuna rounded the corner. Sakura blankly considered the possibility of this being a strange genjutsu. What was the batty old cat lady doing here? And why did Kabuto just call her “Rasna”?

“Y-y-yun-na?” Sakura stuttered out, but her voice came out so shocked that the name likely couldn’t be made out.

She was ignored, regardless.

“Girlie did a number on you,” Yuna stated bluntly, and yes, that was her voice, Sakura would have recognized it anywhere.

“I underestimated her,” Kabuto spat. 

“I did warn you Uchiha Itachi was trainin’ her,” Yuna said coldly, colder than Sakura had ever heard her speak. She had just said… that Itachi Uchiha had trained her… but then… did that mean… it was really true? And Yuna had known, all along? Yuna was a spy?!

“I assumed you were exaggerating,” Kabuto replied darkly. “The girl is a genin with no promise to speak of. Why would Uchiha Itachi want to train her?”

Rasna shook her head. “Yer arrogance and stupidity never cease to amaze, boy. Done in by a genin, of all things. Orochimaru-sama must be so proud.”

Sakura could practically hear Kabuto’s teeth gnashing at the provocation. “Can it, Rasna. You’re under my orders here, understand? And my orders are to detonate that bomb of yours the moment I tell you to.”

Yuna turned to stare Sakura down impassively and Sakura stared back with wide eyes. 

“I said I would, didn't I, four eyes?” the old woman replied gruffly. With this lighting, her  face looked foreign, different, almost as if Sakura had never seen her before. Dangerous. 

Kabuto nodded shortly. “Good. Then I leave the girl to you. Don’t make the mistake I did – she may seem like a naive idiot, but she has a surprising lack of compunctions when it comes to fighting. Uchiha Itachi’s influence, no doubt.”

Sakura listened to all of this with bated breath. 

“Who do you take me for, boy? I’ve made enough mistakes in my life to know how to avoid them by now. And if you’ll recall, it was me who told you about the Uchiha brat’s involvement.”

Sakura tuned out their talk. Yuna was an old woman, that much she knew for certain. Not just that, but she had used to be Sakura’s friend, a mentor in the art of bargaining, even, and they had shared many moments together… something which Kabuto seemed to be in the dark about. She had even healed Sakura at one point! That was it: Yuna had to just be pretending to be evil in order to help out Sakura. Or perhaps she really was on the bad guy’s side, but Sakura could sway her… or at least convince her to let her go. How difficult could that be? It wasn’t like Yuna was like Kabuto: she had morals. She wouldn’t kill Sakura, would she? But even if all else failed and she couldn’t be convinced… well. She was just an old woman at the end of the day. Sakura would simply have to overpower her… how hard could it be?

---

 

He was fifteen and dressed all in black, hand on his little brother’s downcast head. Around them, people prayed. The polished stone shone grimly in the sun before them. 

“Nara Shibuimaru?” 

He turned, finding a man staring back at him. His eyes were wide and hollow, like they’d seen unspeakable things. Shibuimaru recognized him as one of his father’s teammates. The only one left alive.

“Yes?”

“He died a samurai’s death,” the man said with aplomb. “I think he would have wanted you to know.”

“A samurai’s death?” Shikaku piped up from next to him, his grip upon Shibuimaru’s hand like a vice.

The man glanced down, frowning, then looked furtively back at Shibuimaru. “Y-yes. Though perhaps this isn’t something that should be discussed in fron–” 

“Spare us,” Shibuimaru snapped. “My brother isn’t a whiny little idiot. He can take it.” The grip on his hand increased. “Tell us, old man: what is the samurai death?”

His father’s oldest friend hesitated, then began to speak. “Well… if you insist… We call it… sepukku. Originally, it was only known as the samurai suicide ritual. Samurai live by a strict code of honor, and they die by it as well.” 

“Unlike us,” Eita remarked pointedly, with lifted brows.

“Indeed.” The man sighed. “However,  the samurai have always  believed that suicide by sepukku will bring honor to them… and I suppose even those such as ourselves long for a clear conscience, for honor , once our final hour nears.” Shibuimaru scoffed mentally at the idiocy of it, but refrained from speaking what he truly thought. Glancing down at his brother, he noted how Shikaku was drinking in every single word. 

“Since samurai were seen as more honorable,” the man continued, “many ninja of old knew this and wanted it for themselves. They began to copy the sepukku tradition in hopes of…  well, if not living honorably, then at least dying so. However, dramatic bastards as they were, the shinobi of the warring clans era believed that a well executed sepukku wasn’t quite punishment enough for them, to make up for all the dishonorable deeds they’d done in their lives. And so, instead of the good old method of cutting clean across the intestine in two strokes, they came up with a variant whereupon the kanji for ‘honorable’ would be carved upon the fallen shinobi’s stomach, completely tearing their entrails to shreds.” Shikaku looked a little green at that point, but Shibuimaru gripped his shoulder tightly, as if to say ‘hold it together’. 

“This second method…” he asked slowly, “what  was it called?” 

“I-it’s the harakiri,” the man said. He was pale, sweating, his eyes vacant and open and too expressive and empty at once. “That’s the term that was coined for it in the warring states era. Since then, it has fallen into disuse, and only some very traditional ninja practice it anymore…”

“Let me guess. Father died by harakiri,” Shibuimaru surmised. His father had always been stupidly fixated on the idea of honor, propriety and tradition, to the point where Shibuimaru had no trouble at all believing he could have gone as far as to carve a twelve stroke kanji all across his intestines  just so he could die ‘honorably’.

Father’s friend stared into the mossy earth. “That is correct. He had been poisoned… he wouldn’t have made it regardless. He said… he begged me to give him this, as a last gift. A hell of a parting memory, that  bloody moron – I…  fuck I–” He faltered, deflating like a baloon, then spoke again, voice cracking. “I’m sorry. He was too weak to perform the harakiri on himself. I… I am the one who executed it.”

“I see,” said Shibuimaru.  “Good job then.”

A silence.

“That’s it?” The man looked up, startled and disbelieving. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yes?” Shibuimaru replied, glancing distastefully at the other. “Now get yourself together, old man. Father wouldn’t have wanted you weeping like a baby over it.” He glanced pointedly to his little brother, who was also weeping like a baby, and refrained from sighing. Shibuimaru gave a short but firm tug to Shikaku’s ponytail and then started using it to drag him away from the weeping old man. “Let’s go, Shikaku. Mother isn’t in any shape to be cooking today.”

He applied for an apprenticeship under Jiraiya two months after the funeral. His father had been the clan’s best and he had still gotten killed easily. Shibuimaru had to get stronger. The news that the sannin would be taking a disciple sounded just like what he’d needed. Rumors of Jiraiya’s “student casting” were all over the village, so of course a large number of candidates showed up for the ‘interview’. The man had wanted to give every child a chance, and so any shinobi boy or girl was welcome to give the ‘casting’ a shot.

It took place in a forest clearing at training ground seven. Shibuimaru stood in line, watching the other candidates’ performances derisively. Jiraiya of the sannin wasn’t at all like Shibuimaru had pictured, loud, boisterous and extravagant, but he was certain that the man would pick him once he saw what he could do. The white-haired legend was sat upon a tree stump as he paged through a raunchy magazine. He was having each of the candidates step forth, his only instruction, to surprise him. Most he paid little to no attention to. If they were female, he would at least ogle their assets. If they were male, his interest was nonexistent.

Shibuimaru was the first one who managed to make the sannin look away from his magazine. Just as he’d predicted, his skill at ninjutsu had impressed him. Good. Now all that needed to happen was for his apprenticeship to be made official… only then, Namikaze Minato had happened instead.

When the blonde’s turn came, the  boy walked up to the middle of the clearing carrying a bo stick. However, he ignored the weapon and… started playing charades. The rest of the candidates waiting in line snapped out of their stupor as Namikaze began to silently mimic various humorous scenarios. The surprise startled laughter out of them until the clearing was filled with it. Even Jiraiya looked bemused.

“Hey kid, not to interrupt you,” the sannin chortled, “but this isn’t an audition for the theater, you know?”

Namikaze grinned brazenly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate you spicing up the monotony a little, but why not use that fancy stick over there to bust out some moves?”

“As I waited in line, I realized that there was nothing I could do with my bo stick that someone else here couldn’t already,” said Namikaze simply. “If I can’t become your student, at least I want to be able to say I made an impression on you.”

Jiraiya threw his head back and laughed. “And that is what I call thinking outside of the box! Not bad, kid.” He grinned. “One question, though. What is a woman to you?”

He had asked the same question to every applicant. Most, knowing about Jiraiya’s lecherous tendencies, had sputtered out some razy nonsense or, by contrast, delivered some righteous, puritan speech. Shibuimaru himself had gone with the normal definition and stated that a woman was a female human being.

“That’s a hard question, sir.” Namikaze deliberately stopped to think about his answer, as if he hadn’t had half an hour to come up with something. “For example, if I henged into a woman right now, my body would be female but I still wouldn’t be a woman. Some women are tomboys,” he smiled, “with the same values as any man – and yet they are still women – so what makes women women?” the blonde concluded. “I think not even they could agree on a set answer. But if I had to come up with a comparison…” He pulled out something and threw it at the sannin. It was a small, black box. Shibuimaru alone knew what the box contained, had seen it right before Namikaze had torched an age-old forest. It was a matchstick box. The rest of the nin at the clearing leaned in to see what it was, but only Jiraiya got to peer within. He opened the box and stared at its contents for a moment.

“What’s this supposed to mean, kid?”

“That’s what a woman is to me,” Namikaze said. “I think we all have one woman that is like fire to us; kryptonite, an inferno or a gentle candle in the night.”

Jiraiya stared at the black box again, then nodded, something serious briefly flitting over his face. “Hm, can’t say I don’t agree.” It was the first time he had accepted a candidate’s answer without complaint. Jiraiya then smirked at Namikaze, tossing back the black box. “Training starts tomorrow, kid. Hot springs, ten sharp. Everyone else! You can leave. I’ve found my student.”

Shibuimaru was one of the first to vacate the clearing, his thoughts boiling furiously. Once again, that damned Namikaze… had one-upped him. Damn him. Damn him. Before this, if he had not been picked, he would have simply moved on, but now? He could not let Namikaze win. He had to get back at him. If he couldn’t be Jiraiya’s student, then he would find someone better than the sannin. And then he did.

He had been sixteen and lost a long distance from home when he had finally found his teacher. A buffed man had eyed him warily from within the darkened warehouse he’d tracked her down to, but his interest was for the woman standing at his side – fierce and serious.

“Rasna-sama,” he said, bowing. “I humbly request your aid in furthering my training.”

“Rise,” said she. “Why do you want to learn, boy?”

He said: “Is that the question you should be asking?”

She cocked her head, eyes hooded. “You’re right. I don’t care about your reasons. Let me rephrase: what will you give me if I teach you?”

“My very soul, if that’s what it takes.”

 

When he finished his training, he returned to Konoha. The hokage had granted him leave for an injury that didn’t exist (not that the man knew that), at least not physically. That injury was now patched, albeit not healed. The first thing he had done upon arrival was look for Namikaze, the second finding the Kyubi girl and flirting with her in front of him. He had not been sure about his hypothesis, but he knew he had hit the nail on the dot when Namikaze’s eyes followed them across the market square, burning like lanterns in the night.

Shibuimaru had greatly enjoyed himself, though the Kyubi girl hadn’t fallen for his charms all that much. Women usually flocked to him when he wanted them to, but this one didn’t.

“Stay away from her,” Namikaze had hissed. It was two months later and they had coincided in one of the outposts for the southern front. Shibuimaru, of course, had not had any trouble understanding what he was talking about.

“And if I don’t?”

Namikaze, for all that Jiraiya had trained him, had specialized in infiltration. There were many rumors about him, about how disappointing it was that Jiraiya-sama’s student should waste away in infiltration like this, about how Namikaze was squandering his talents, about his pathetic station, about how Jiraiya must have gone insane to pick a clanless disappointment like him for a student.

“I am not Kushina’s keeper, nor do I have any say on who she talks to,” Namikaze continued calmly, “but I know a lot of people who know you.”

Shibuimaru had understood the threat loud and clear. Just like Namikaze had poisoned the hokage’s ears last time with words of Shibuimaru’s supposed arson crime, even though he himself had been the mastermind, now Namikaze was threatening to do it again. All because he was so in love with that monster woman. It was disgusting.

“Your words may be a thing to fear, Namikaze,” he said sardonically, “but they cannot trump action. Such is the female persuasion. A woman will always pick the stronger, more handsome, richer man. It is simple biology. They are programmed to look for the best defender for their brood. And a weakling little scumbag like you, Namikaze? You don’t have a chance with that Uzumaki cunt.”

They had destroyed a training ground. Shibuimaru had superior fighting skills on his side, but Namikaze was batshit insane. He had blown up his own leg just to harm Shibuimaru and seemed completely indifferent about it. When they were done fighting, the blonde’s leg was charred and bent unnaturally and his chakra drained, skin marred with cuts. Eita knew that he must look like the winner, physically much better off, but this wasn’t strictly true. Because of Namikaze’s explosions, all he could hear now was a sharp ringing in both ears and nothing but that. They each shot one another hateful looks, then one of the medics burst in and started scolding them, as well as fretting over the indifferent Namikaze (now acting like it wasn’t such a big deal) and shooting worried glances at Shibuimaru. Namikaze was helped into the medical tent to get healed, two medics supporting his weight, and Shibuimaru left alone. He watched them carry the blonde away with a smirk on his face, one that ignored the stark pain in his ears so as to look like the absolute victor.

Namikaze turned once when he was almost out of sight and their eyes met again, flicking very briefly through his ears. Shibuimaru’s jaw tightened, but he kept his smirk. Neither was stupid enough to seek the other out for a continuation of their fight.

Shibuimaru was seventeen when he killed a kage for the first time. Once it was all said and done, he found himself alone inside a cell, watching those outside, who regarded him with terrified expressions on their faces. He lowered his head away from them and stared dispassionately at the tsuchikage’s cooling corpse. The old bat was dead, impossibly. His only thought was: ‘how anticlimactic’. All he’d had to do was lure the man inside his cell, where his shadows could reach, and once paralyzed, surge forward to bite through the man’s jugular. The sensation of skin stuck to his teeth was a foul one, especially as his tongue wasn’t enough to get the meaty bits out, but all things considered it had been a ridiculously easy kill.

A retrieval squad came to get him a while later and he asked them whether they had a toothbrush. Or at least a tooth prick that was moderately clean. 

They’d stared at him as if he were the most disgusting creature on Earth. To his own surprise, their distaste had bothered him. He had just done their job for them, those useless faggots, and this was how they thanked him? What were they getting so worked up over, anyway? A kill was a kill. It had been a messy one, yes, but not the end of the world. All he’d asked for in return was a goddamned toothbrush.

He was seventeen and listening to some peasant Yamanaka yap about psychological instability, even though they both knew he had passed his psych evaluation with flying colors. It didn’t seem to matter to the guy, or should he say, to whoever had put him up to this – Shibuimaru knew they had; he hadn’t been born yesterday. All whoever this was seemed to care about was how he’d killed the tsuchikage, with such barbaric methods , as if trying to act all kindly whilst murdering people wasn’t the height of hypocrisy for those of their profession. Sometimes, he truly hated them. The hokage, all those fucking higher ups with their stuffy council meetings, endeavoring to decide the fate of their subjects like some kind of god passing judgement when they were nothing but common vermin.

Shibuimaru gritted his teeth in anger. He knew the real reason why they wanted him gone. He knew what they all thought about the still existing rumors of him being the arsonist. His reputation had never been the same after that wildfire, no matter how often he had insisted that the one who had started it all hadn’t been him. No one had ever believed his side of the story. No one could believe that that blonde damn demon could do wrong. And now, he was officially relieved of his on-field duties. Him.  Nara Shibuimaru. 

After all these years… all this hard work… after he had become the best … and they wanted to get rid of him? He couldn’t believe it. He had to fight the strong urge to bite through the Yamanaka’s jugular too. This, he knew, would not help his case, even if it was warranted. Though, he supposed the Yamanaka was just a damn tool, the same he was, at the end of the day. No, the real culprit was the hokage for being so utterly guillible, the culprit was the entire goddamn system that perpetrated Konoha’s absolute hypocrisy – but most of all, the culprit was Namikaze Minato. He glared icily at the Yamanaka peasant and watched the man gulp. 

What a fucking joke.

He was still seventeen when Danzo Shimura came to him with his proposal. The man’s idea was straight forward: he wanted to create a corp for the best of the best; people like Shibuimaru, people that would start getting things done without the pesky moral restrictions that were so holding Konoha back in the war, whilst the other villages were free to do as they pleased. The hokage wouldn’t have to know about his involvement, Danzo added, sweetening the deal. That made sense. Shibuimaru figured there would have been no other way to get him on board. Apparently, he’d be the first member to join; Danzo’s idea for the creation of said corp was still in the early stages, and he wanted Shibuimaru’s insight, opinion and skill to help him decide upon and recruit the founding members. Figure that: him, the first recruit, was already banned from working as a ninja legally. What a fantastic start. It meant that this, whatever it was, would become an organisation that wouldn’t shy away from crossing the hokage. Shibuimaru might have grinned widely at the prospect – finally he had found someone with the balls and the means to challenge the system, someone who could change the status quo – though he refrained, as he had heard others whispering about the expression looking deranged. He kept a blasé look on his face.

“This thing, what would we even call it?” he had asked Danzo. “If I join your little club, I at least want to know what the hell I’ll be signing up for.”

“It does not yet bear a name, as such,” Danzo had replied. “I have obtained Hiruzen’s permission to create a separate entity from ANBU, a branch so to speak that I will control. I had been thinking of calling it ANBU gamma.”

“Tch.” Shibuimaru scoffed. “What a shitty name. No offence, but no one’s gonna want to join something that sounds like a fucking cartoon robot.”

Danzo shrugged. “I admit that name-giving has never been my forte. If you have any better ideas, feel free to share with the class.” The last part was added in a deadpan.

“Hah?” Shibuimaru muttered irritably. “I’m not one for haikus, Shimura, that’s for damn sure. Leave the flowery wordings to someone else.” 

And yet, even as he said this… there was something about Danzo’s proposal which struck a chord within him. It was always Shibuimaru, as one of Konoha’s very best, (if not the best, in his opinion), that ended up saving everyone else with his acts of violence, with his power and cunning, with his shadows; but no one ever thanked him. Then they’d  all acted like he was some kind of monster for killing the kage like that, but so what? They were in a war. How many lives had he saved by culling the nidaime tsuchikage? And yet how did they thank him? By firing the fuck out of him.

It wasn’t right. They should be building him a fucking statue, not this.

What Danzo was suggesting… it would be an organisation where those like him could thrive, those who didn’t mind getting their hands dirty because indeed they lived in dirt and they knew it. Pretending otherwise was the height of hypocrisy, especially when the very system they were all cogs in was sustained upon that dirt, that murder, that war . Shibuimaru had always breathed and lived in the shadows; he was strong but not shiny enough to be admired for it. He fought fire with fire, and people didn’t like that. He was the dirt. The darkness. The strength. Him, what he stood for, his means were necessary, if unsightly to look at. This thought evoked a powerful imagery within him.

“Root,” he said shortly. 

“Eh?” Danzo made a confused noise.

It was perfect. Root would pull Konoha through the war, and if those hypocrites wanted to shun them for it, then at least they themselves would know what they truly were, they would carry it in their very name.

“You heard me,” Shibuimaru replied. “That’s what I would call it.”

“Root?” Danzo said dubiously. “Really? What’s next, Branch?”

“Fuck branch,” Shibuimaru snapped, irritated at the dismissal. “What’s the point of asking me for ideas  if you don’t want an answer?”

“I just wondered about your reasoning,” Danzo said slowly, taking a slow step back. “Roots aren’t very appealing, are they? I thought you just said to pick an attractive symbology.”

“No,” Shikamaru growled. “I don’t want no shiny fucking lapels. What we want is a banner that someone fucked up like me can believe in, someplace that makes even the ugly shitstains no one else wants worth something. That’s why it’s Root. Because Roots do their job and they don’t care about being shiny, all they care about is that it gets done. And without them, the tree’s dead.”

That was the first time he’d seen Danzo smile. One of the only times, if he was honest.

“When you put it like that… it is…” There was a pause as Danzo seemed to contemplate his words, “ it is adequate. Root… will you join Root, Eita?”

He stared at the elder. “The fuck’s that? D’you come here without knowing my name?”

“On the contrary,” Danzo said. “I know more about you than indeed most anyone in this village. You just said Root has to be a great equalizer. That things like appearances should cease to matter, but that is something that goes against our very nature. Caring about one’s image and reputation is instinctual for every human being, linked intrinsically to one’s identity, one’s sense of self. It seems we both had similar ideas for this project, for I too had dreamed of forming a corp that would put such things behind.” Danzo pulled out an ANBU mask from below his cloak. “To be Root, as you put it, one would have to be Root only – and nothing but.”

Shibuimaru frowned at the mask, eyeing the battered old thing with mild curiosity. It was generic enough. 

“Do you want it?” Danzo asked.

Shibuimaru stared at it. Almost without his permission, he reached out.

“You will cease being Shibuimaru the moment you take that mask,” Danzo cautioned, before he could touch the fine porcelain. “That is why I called you Eita. Because there won’t be anything else to call you by. Not if you join.”

He would stop being who he was. Nara Shibuimaru stared at the mask. His mother had made a mistake in loving him conditionally – only if he was good – because he was done being good. Done with living abiding by law and rules. Just done.

“I am humbled by your offer, Danzo… sama,” he spoke slowly and moved languorously, almost as if savoring the moment. Then, at long last, he took the mask and carefully put it on.

Danzo smiled a slow, cold thing. “Welcome aboard then, Eita.”

That day, he gifted his brother a new shogi board. Shikaku liked that strategy game better than his own namesake. He sat with his remaining family during dinner. He said: “A new job has come up. I will have to move for it.”

His mother watched him, exhaustion in her keen eyes. He watched her back, taking in the stress lines and the graying hairs at her temples. “Be careful, Shibu-kun.”

He smirked at her. She had always known him best. She knew she couldn’t stop him. “Of course, Kaa-san.”

His brother, now a genin of thirteen, tugged on his sleeve that night. “Let’s break it in?” He was talking about his new shogi board, Eita knew. He watched his brother thoughtfully. Shikaku would need to learn what the world was really like, and soon.

“Alright, little brother. But let’s play it my way.”

Shikaku had ended up sobbing all over the new board. Eita watched him cry uncontrollably and concluded that he had been right. His little brother had needed the wake-up call. Playing with the pieces doubling as his little friends was something he would need to get used to. Eita had been doing it for a long time.

Notes:

Soooo… thoughts??? What’s your opinion on Yandere Minato? What do you think about Shibuimaru? It’s my first time trying my hand at writing a psychopath so I’m pretty curious about your thoughts :)
I was also pretty proud of Kabuto’s speech to Sakura… and the Sakura revelation. She really is starting to understand Itachi’s treason. Also, hope you didn’t get bored by the shi-chan part. It had a bit of a slow start, I know, but it gave me the opportunity to write Itachi as a kid and Shisui so it was very enjoyable!

 

Also… important: I wanted to clear up that sepukku and harakiri are the same thing. I came up with two different definitions for the purposes of this story, but that’s just in the MTE verse, okay? So don’t go telling other people about the twelve stroke kanji thing because I made it up xD

Chapter 32: Interlude

Summary:

an interlude

you don't have to read this to follow most of the story, but there are some pretty crucial reveals in this. Basically, read if you're interested in the Shibuimaru-Minato sideplot, in the inner workings of Root, in Río or in Tobirama. otherwise, feel free to skip.

Notes:

WARNING!!!

Remember how I mentioned there was going to be heavy violence at some point. Well, Eita is his own warning. Back when he was still shibuimaru, society kept him somewhat in check. Now all restrictions are gone. So beware.

In case you want to read this but don't want to get triggered, here's what you need to know: there will be two scenes that take place in a desert. Skip them. There will be one scene that has a pregnant woman. Also skip it. I've devided this monster of a text into two parts. Part one, save for the very end, should be fine for anyone to read and contains most of the Tobirama side plot. Part two is heavier in violence and focuses on the Minato aspect of things.

PART ONE

 

“The results, Danzo-sama.”

In a darkened room, Danzo sat upon a large armchair, Eita watching on from the rafters as a man kneeled in front of him, passing over a folder. 

Danzo snatched it impatiently. “Took you long enough.”

“My apologies,” the man murmured. “Urameshi-sensei prioritized not being discovered over speed.”

Danzo no longer answered, seemingly absorbed in the material, reading rapidly but with inscrutable features. It was silent for a while. Then:

“I was right…” Danzo breathed, lowering the dossier almost reverently. “I was right . I cannot believe it.” In his haste he stood up from the armchair and toppled it, began pacing the room. His eyes were fervent.

Eita dropped down, landing softly. “Right? About what?”

“Eita,” Danzo said, turning at once, a wide grin stretching over his lips. “This is excellent news for us.” He passed over the file. Eita scanned it. A large, developed picture had been clipped to the side. It seemed to have been taken without the subject noticing.

“Who is she?” Eita asked, tracing over the plain-looking features.

“That,” Danzo told him, snatching the folder back from his grip, as if it were a precious treasure, “is nidaime-sama’s descendant.”

 

 

---

Eita had been twenty-three when Danzo sent him on the mission to find out as much as he could about the nidaime’s remaining family. The existence of one living descendant – possibly his granddaughter – meant that the man could have had more heirs than just her, and Danzo wanted to know about each and every one of them. All they had to go off on was a blood sample and the granddaughter herself, who, upon subtle proving, didn’t know anything about her ancestors beyond her mother… so of course said mother, upon tracking her down, had patently refused to cooperate with their investigation on all fronts, citing her distrust for ‘your sort’ and shutting her door in their faces (masks?) with unabashed rudeness. Eita would have had her tortured for information, but Danzo had specifically insisted that none of Tobirama’s kin were to be harmed whatsoever, so they were stuck sniffing around the old woman’s home village in tea country instead.

How the nidaime hokage had managed to rear a family and children on the side and keep it a secret was a mystery, but the evidence kept piling up. More so once they stumbled upon an old property – and the aged seal that had been carved upon the wooden floor of a nearby  well – undoubtedly, the hiraishin, Tobirama’s signature technique. The old house seemed to point toward various children having inhabited it at some point, which meant if those children had also had children, the living number of Senju might be in the double digits , rather than just Senju Tsunade. 

On that matter, the so-called last Senju was not contacted about the discovery, nor was anyone else at Konoha… for the house showed one last clue, one which Danzo desperately wanted to solve: its sudden and permanent abandonment. From what Eita’s forensics team could tell, the property had been vacated over two decades ago, with all manner of personal possessions left behind. There were no clues as to where any of the inhabitants might have gone, if they were still even alive… why they had left. 

It appeared that the senile woman, mother of the granddaughter and thus Tobirama’s daughter, had managed to escape with her life at the time – for it was obvious that some kind of attack must have occurred to the family for them to leave like that – and had apparently laid low elsewhere for a decade, only to return to her home once the coast was clear. Again he and his team went to fact-check this theory with the old crone and again she had refused to part with any information whatsoever, to the point where the use of memory-extraction techniques might have caused the stubborn old woman anywhere from severe pain to an aneurysm if applied. And again , Danzo explicitly told Eira that no descendant of the nidaime was to be harmed in this undertaking, period, so their chances of finding out more weren’t looking good. 

(Basically: Eita wanted to grab the old man and shake him. Or the old woman. Or both.)

Judging by the number of rooms Tobirama Senju’s cottage had had, the nidaime must have sired more than one child, from two to four, which left three possible others who might have lived – and might have had descendants.

Eita had almost believed they’d find out nothing else on the topic of the nidaime – he had in fact been readying his arguments for Danzo to get him to let him take a crack at the old crone – when one of his agents had stumbled upon a letter that the senile  woman had kept under a loose floorboard of her rickety house. The sender was someone who’d signed as Shigure and addressed the old woman as an older sister. Very promising. It was dated a decade ago. The contents were no less interesting. During most of the letter, Shigure spoke of her efforts to locate her – their – missing brother, and of her general worries for him and  someone named Touka. The brother in question, called Itama, seemed to be missing, and there were various paragraphs which detailed Shigure’s attempts to track him down, ranging from following paper trails to paying a squad of rouge nin, as well as her suspicions that Itama might have traveled beyond the seas, apparently in search for one last missing sibling, the aforementioned Touka. In short, the family sounded like a walking disaster. Worse perhaps was that there were no mentions of Tobirama (nor of a father of any kind) whatsoever. 

Happily, the Shigure chit seemed significantly less paranoid and jaded than the old crone was and had consequently been imbecilic enough to leave a written record of her whereabouts in the letter: she appeared to  have settled down in Rain Country. 

Gleeful as he had been to uncover the clue, Eita almost would have preferred not to have found the letter, for it now forced him and his team on yet another wild goose chase, this time to Ame of all places, which happened to be a war zone at the moment. 

Yay .

 

---

 

Predictably, the country was in ruins and no man nor woman which his cell had interrogated had seen hide or hair of the Shigure chit. Irritated, Eita had told his squad to spread out, well aware that even if they covered a larger area, their chances of finding anything were slim to none. 

He’d been looking for possible clues when he’d begun to hear  some odd rumours – the further inland he advanced, the more in frequency he came across them – of a supposed evil spirit that was roaming the lands at night. Amusingly, it had the locals in a tizzy. The thing was said to have the ability of possessing random wild beasts and appeared to frequently pillage the orchards around the villages. There was a large boy tu on its head for those brave enough to take on such a foolish challenge.

Eita  only bothered to track it down in the first place to take his mind off the mind-numbing search mission for a moment, but he got far more than he’d bargained for. What was pillaging the fields in the night was indeed not an evil spirit – at all. 

His eyes and hair had been matted with dirt when Eira found him, dull red strands peaking through clumps of mud that had stuck to it. He’d been otherwise unwashed and unkempt as well, but that was no surprise, given the state of affairs in Rain Country as a whole.  He had been scavenging for food, if the large sack filled with supplies  on his back was any indicator.

All in all, the horrendous evil spirit had turned out to be a bit of a let down, though Eita had to at least give the kid – for that’s what he was, couldn’t even be a teenager – points for trying: by way of clothes he wore the pelt of a black bear, with its teeth still attached, which did indeed look rather off-putting, and this was topped off by a pair of eerie, wine red eyes that stared at him from beneath the hood. Actually, depending on how deep over his head the hood was pulled, the kid either looked like he was being swallowed by the bear, or, if it was pulled all the way down, like he was the bear.

Eita decided not to immediately kill him for the bounty the villagers had placed on the evil spirit’s head as he’d been planning: kid had a flair for dramatics, it seemed, and he found himself oddly amused by it.

More interesting still: the bear carcass hadn’t been the boy’s only little pet. He had kept various beasts (life ones) tied to strange strings made up of chakra, and, sensing Eita’s presence behind him, had commanded them to attack, somehow using the chakra-infused ropes to control the beasts. 

The strange attack has been utterly unexpected, but not unwelcome. The boy was using a moderately advanced chakra trick, and his strength —comparatively speaking—amongst such weak folk peaked Eita’s interest.  What were the odds that this boy could be one of Tobirama’s heirs? Hell, the chances were rather slim, but even if the kid turned out not to be a Senju, he still seemed like a promising recruit for Root — and it’d be much better to return to Danzo with this boy rather than empty-handed. Mind made up, Eita decided to gauge that hidden potential he could sense in the redhead and possibly question him about his origins afterwards.

WIthout further fanfare, he attacked. Unfortunately for the boy, the bears, wolves and even the crocodile he had chained with his little chakra ropes were smart enough to recognize Eita as the apex predator he was the second he flared his killing intent. Consequently, the boy urged them to attack him to no avail, pulling and thrashing with futility at his little strings, but it was all for naught as the beasts refused to move. How disappointing, thought Eita, though he supposed he couldn’t fault the animals for having a sense of self preservation.

Almost lazily, he snatched one of the strange chakra ropes from the boy’s white-knuckled grip, watching him backpedal with a look of terror on his face, then took his sweet time examining it. The way the threads had been weaved together was oddly reminiscent of a fuinjutsu array – a new type of weapon developed by Ame perhaps? – however, the material used in their making appeared to be strips from old clothes, contradicting his initial assumption. Had the kid made these?

“Huh… resourceful…” Eita pondered out loud.  “I like you already.”

The bear and wolves had retreated as far as the ropes would let them by then, and the (now rather frightened-looking) boy seemed like he was readying to bolt as well.

“Hey, hey… where’re you goin’, kid? I didn’t say you could leave yet.”

The boy’s eyes were wild, flitting around as if he were planning out his escape. Eita noticed that they kept straying into a certain direction, then stopping, as if he were trying to control the impulse of looking… interesting. He cocked his head and spread out his chakra, looking around for what might have the kid so invested — then he found it. A ball of chakra signatures, a little south of where he’d found the boy. He took a gamble and said: “Well, you aren’t being very welcoming at all, now are you, kid? Think I’ll go pay your friends a visit instead.”

And without much fanfare, he leapt lazily in the direction of the chakra signatures. The boy waited, perhaps attempting to call his bluff, but Eita didn’t fold. He was close enough by then to discern that what he had sensed was an abandoned building of some sort, perhaps a warehouse. He counted about six others inside, every signature weak enough that it had to be a child or an animal.

The moment he closed in on the entrance, the kid was on him like a damned wildcat. The boy sicked the bear and the wolf on Eita, had somehow made them cooperate despite their obvious fear, and sent the crocodile to ambush him from behind. Not such a terrible tactic, for someone untrained. 

Eita made short work of them, of course, until only the brat was left. 

“No, wait, don’t go in there — I forbid it!” Kid sounded like the type who was used to being obeyed.  Too bad Eita didn’t obey anyone. Not really.

He opened the door. The sight that greeted him was more pitiful than expected: a bunch of brats, all sitting around a small fire, looking up at him with startled surprise and fear in their eyes, faces haggard as hell, their frames covered in animal pelts also. The kid jumped on him again, from behind this time, managing to reach Eita’s upper back and claw his hand into the Root armour.

There were horrified shouts — the brats making a ruckus — while the boy clung to his back like a damn letch and tried to tear Eita’s hair out. For all his haggardness, he packed quite a punch, Eita mentally nodded to himself. Danzo would be pleased.

He advanced, heedless of the slight sting of the boy’s clawing, until he’d made it to the inside of the warehouse, right in the middle of the frightened brats. They all looked like they had fuck all idea of what to do, so he assumed that the boy must be their little leader. All the better, then.

“Look here, brat,” he said to the kid. “Memorize their faces because this is the last time you’ll be seeing these guys. If you come with me, it will be with the knowledge that they’re still alive. If you refuse, then you won’t see them again because they’ll be six feet under. Your choice.”

The kid squawked with open indignation, but Eita knew he had the boy by the balls. The poor sod had clearly been terrified out of his mind earlier and he’d still attacked Eita the second he’d approached his little friends. Kid would cave if his friends were on the line.

Except… not quite.

In a fit of crazed inspiration, the brat started screaming, increasing the hair pulling to extreme levels and actually  bit down on Eita’s ear hard enough to tear a chunk off. Eita felt a flash of blinding white pain and, finally having had it, threw the boy off him with his shadows and proceeded to beat the crap out of him. A girl that had been standing around looking like a frightened deer moved to interfere, and, sensing she was a weakling and therefore of no use to Root, he threw her against one of the windows, her body breaking the old glass and landing outside with a dull thud, likely dead. After that, no one else tried to help. 

The boy was the only one making noise anymore, and doing a rather good job of it, as he was still screaming, sounding rather raw. Eita pointedly grabbed his neck and squeezed until he finally shut up.

At last, blessed silence.

“So, you feelin’ up to coming with me now, kid?” he deadpanned, dabbing tenderly at the carnage that was his earlobe with a kerchief clutched by his shadow. 

No reply. Eita wanted to sigh.

“Well, kid? You heard me the first time. Either come with me or don’t, you know the stakes. What’s it gonna be?”

For a moment, it was dead silent except for one of the other children’s whimpers, but then the boy finally lifted his head and heaved out a choked-out sob that sounded somewhat like an agreement. 

“Grand.”

Eita let the boy’s windpipe go, getting to his feet with cheer, though he wasn’t really feeling it, if he was honest. His ear was still attempting to emulate an arterial spray. 

He nudged the boy’s head. “We’re going, then. Say goodbye to your friends, kid.”

Once they were out of the warehouse, he made the boy shed the black pelt — a child walking around in a bear carcass would draw too much attention — and don Root armor instead (child soldiers were much less inconspicuous). This accomplished,  Eita ushered the boy forward, unconcerned with the proceedings now. Kid wouldn’t try to escape.

“Captain!” an agent called out to him a few days later. Eita turned. 

“What is it?”

“We’ve got the results.” The agent passed Eita a folder, a report of the relation test he’d had asked to get done on the boy’s blood the second Eita had brought in a sample. Just in case.

He peered at the cover, his lip slowly pulling upward the longer his eyes roved over the results. He’d struck gold. The kid was a Senju.

---

 

“What do you want us to call you, newbie?” One of Eita’s squadmates drawled as they ran back, kid in tow. “Be warned, we don’t use our given names here.”

“Charca,” the boy said dully.

“Bit weird, isn’t it?”

“No more than you, asshole.”

“Just sayin’, your mother must’ve had somethi’n wrong with her head to call you that,” the agent bit out dourly.

“My mother was fuck all better than you scum,” the Senju boy hissed.

“Oh? Pray tell, what was she like?” Eita cut in, interested in where this was going.

“None of your business.”

“Come now, tell us, kid. It’s not worth the pain. She’s dead now, isn’t she? You spoke of her in the past tense.”

The boy flinched, perhaps saddened, or maybe because he’d sensed the spike in Eita’s killing intent; a warning. “She… she taught me all I know,” the kid – Charca for now, Eita supposed – muttered.

“Such as?”

“Such as to avoid you people. Fat load of good it did me.” Charca chuckled hysterically, then seemed to regain his bearings. “Ma used to say that all shinobi-kind are trash. Damned if I ever heard anything more true.”

Eita snorted, mightily bemused at the irony. The boy l had no idea who his grandfather was. 

He frowned. Wait, not great-grandfather? The senile woman’s daughter – the one the whole search had started with – was the nidaime’s granddaughter and had had a child already. The age gap between her and Charca seemed a little suspect… but no. It checked out. Shigure had sounded like she was much younger than the old woman and due to her various travels had had a late pregnancy as well, so it seemed that Charca indeed was the nidaime’s grandson, rather than greatgrandson. Eita turned his attention back to the subject of his thoughts.

“Yo, kid. How about that rope you were handling your little pets with? Who taught you that?” 

“Ma did,” the boy muttered sullenly. “With paper and ink. But they’re expensive. Using threads from me’ old clothes was easier.”

He was talking about fuinjutsu… but an odd adaptation, from the looks of it, one that relied on strings rather than ink. That made those chains he had made of loose threads from old rags even more impressive, even Eita was forced to admit this.

“To be clear, she didn’t teach you how to make the chains for the beasts?” he inquired. “Just the craft itself?”

A nod in the affirmative. 

Interesting… so the boy was some kind of fuinjutsu prodigy. It appeared they had really hit the jackpot with this one.

“And she learned this craft from her father?”

“No.”

“Oh?” 

“It was grandma’s thing.” 

The nidaime’s woman had been an Uzumaki, it seemed.  “So… your grandmother was red haired, I take it?” Eita questioned.

“Why do you care?” Charca gave him a resentful look, turned and stared straight ahead, his tone flat and yet filled with loathing. Then, when Eita flared his chakra, the boy faltered and, casting him a fearful side glance, quickly nodded. “Yes. Ma said gran’s hair used to be just like mine.”

Huh.

“And what about your grandfather? He teach you anything?”

“Never met him. Ma refused to talk about him.”

Interesting. Eita smirked to himself. Tobirama had apparently had bad ties with his family and it appeared that the kid’s mother — likely Shigure — might have even disliked or resented him. Eita shrugged. The nidaime’s youngest daughter may be dead, but it no longer mattered. He had found something even better, after all: her brat.

Danzo was bound to lose his shit when they brought him in.

---

It wasn’t until a few years later that Danzo ordered Eita to kidnap the other missing relative – the great-grandchild – to complete his collection. The great grandchild was the daughter of the senile woman’s daughter. Her child had to be around six years old by now. It’d been three years since they’d brought in Charca — who, for some reason, had been allowed to keep his name – so it was high  time for some new blood.

Eita didn’t understand why Danzo had waited so long to issue the order to take the nidaime’s great grandchild, seeing as the Charca boy had turned out to be a truly talented individual, if rather vitriolic in general. As such, when the order to kidnap the rest of the brood was finally given, Eita complied without reservations. He wasn’t expecting much trouble. Eita had watched the girl for a few years already, but unlike Charca, she had not displayed any type of remarkable skill. However, the war was getting worse and Danzo was looking everywhere for more recruits. They needed strong fighters. 

The girl definitely wasn’t a sensor, because she hadn’t seemed to notice him following her around. Her mother, by contrast, had clearly inherited some of the nidaime’s sensing talent, and though she was a mere chunin, had almost caught onto him, so Eita had been forced to tread with great caution. He’d been reminded more than once of the fact that it was because of this woman’s insane performance at the chunin exams, ones she’d taken without barely any training, that they had investigated her (on grounds of being a possible infiltrator) and found out instead that she was the nidaime’s bloody descendant. And somehow had no idea about this fact. From what he had heard, Eita would do well not to underestimate her. 

He had almost thought he’d have to resort to extreme measures to bypass Yamanaka Chihiro’s sensory skills… when Hatake Sakumo’s suicide happened. Only one week after the White Fang had killed himself, his boy graduated from the Academy – at age six .

This had prompted all clan heads to burst into an uproar, not because they cared about the fate of the young Hatake Kakashi, but rather about that of their own children, should anything happen to the parents. This had included the folks of his target. With both of them busy, and Yamanaka Chihiro too stressed, her mind too clouded to sense properly, Eita had known that it was time. He’d waited until the girl was alone. Then, he had reached out with his shadow tendrils and dragged her toward him. She’d tried to scream but he had sent a tentacle into her mouth to silence her. He had coiled more of the dark shadows around her face, around her neck, into her ears – the less she was aware of where he was taking her, the less she put up a fuss, the better. 

Unfortunately, the kid wasn’t nearly as smart as Charca had been and seemed to have little to no self-preservation instincts. She’d kicked and flailed in his grip non-stop, seeming to not care about the literal noose around her neck, panicked cries for help muted by the tentacles in and around her mouth as she sobbed all over the place and dripped copious amounts of snot on his new armor. The whole thing was, to borrow a common phrase in his clan, a monumental drag. Kidnapping Charca hadn’t been nearly this annoying. To make matters worse, Eita couldn’t just drop the girl off at HQ. No, because she was a clan heiress, Danzo had instructed him to make it look like the enemy had kidnapped her, so Eita was forced to haul the imbecilic brat all the way to Iwa in a trip that seemed to never end. 

Perhaps he was being a tad dramatic though. If one ignored the constant flailing and gasping and clawing and snotting all over his armor (seriously, how dumb was this girl?), the journey was rather uneventful, and the fake trail was placed successfully. (But he needed to do laundry now. Lots of laundry.) Still, he wouldn’t wish this task on anyone. He’d had about enough of snotting children for a lifetime.

Alas, it was not to be: Danzo wanted him to get Hatake’s brat next. The boy showed immense promise, and, as previously stated, they needed strong warriors urgently. Also, he was in a psychologically weakened state and the longer they waited, the more the window of opportunity would close.

“With the sole exception of Inoue Yamanaka,” Danzo told him gravely, “I have always stuck to taking those orphans who have nothing but death awaiting them. This is the case of Hatake Kakashi. If we don’t do anything, that prodigy will die unripe at the front lines. No, we must take him into the fold and make him strong, nurture him until he can reach his full potential. We owe it to Konoha.”

“Yes, yes,” Eita had drawled, uninterested in Danzo’s moral gymnastics to assuage his conscience. “You want me to take him or what?”

There was a single nod and a quiet: “you know what to do.”

---

 

He had repeated the same process of stalking his prey with the Hatake kid, who had, idiotically, insisted on living alone in his clan’s old estate after Hatake Sakumo’s passing. It was an ideal situation for a kidnapping. The child’s only saving grace was that he had a very perceptive nose, unfortunately, so again Eita had to be careful about the brat not catching on and always hiding downwind. This boy had been lauded as a prodigy for a reason. However, Eita had also been praised when he was young, and was now a seasoned war veteran – whereas this kid was still just a child. It was unfair, yes, but so was life.

Eita had been almost set on a plan to take Hatake Kakashi: the recently orphaned boy was clearly depressed on account of the whole debacle with his old man, and the entire village’s gossip mongering was not helping matters in the least. Kakashi was young still and being sent to war already, hated by villagers and turned into nothing but an object in the hands of the authorities. Truly so very sad , Eita might have said, if he had one to put such labels on things. Child suicide was always such a tragic affair, after all, but would anyone be surprised if the young Hatake chose to follow in his father’s footsteps?

Of course not. Such was the world of shinobi.

Eita had already decided on all the particulars for the kidnapping and fake suicide when Namikaze appeared before him without warning, like a bloodstain on the bathroom tiles.

Just like that, the blonde was suddenly there, perched upon the old Hatake estate’s rooftop, right in front of him , maybe eight meters apart; an old nightmare come to life. 

Eight meters. The necessary distance to engage in long ranged combat; Namikaze’s specialty. 

But it was also Eita’s.

Eight meters separating them. He was reminded of that time in the forest clearing, of Namikaze looking down dispassionately at his unresponsive, charred leg, uncaring of it as long as he could hurt Eita, was reminded of the ringing in his ears and the feeling that, even if he was stronger, Namikaze was quicker in different ways. It had been a while since then; the last time they had met – and yet, Eita’s anger for this man burned strong. It had always been fire, between them.

“Is there a problem, Nara-san?” Namikaze had asked quietly.

“No,” he had said, in a tone just as low. Oh, how he wanted to wrap his hands around Namikaze’s windpipe and squeeze. Or maybe burn him alive slowly, a dose of fresh karma coming up. “No,” he repeated again. “There’s no problem.”

“Then I would suggest you leave .” 

Eita had not moved.

Namikaze’s chakra had spiked in response, the man’s muscles tensing, impossibly, even more. “Be warned that I will discuss your presence here tonight with hokage-sama,” Namikaze spat in a clipped tone. “And if anything untoward happens to that boy ,” they both tilted their heads, to peer at the child who could be seen within the house, “well…” 

There was a pause. Namikaze’s eyes met Eita’s through his mask. 

“Yes?” Eita prodded lightly, brows raised. “Do tell, I’m ever so interested in what you’ll do, Mi - na - to. ”

Namikaze bared his teeth at him. “ Well , Shibuimaru-kun,” the blonde continued, deceptively calm. “I would imagine that Konoha will have no choice but to assume that this was your doing,” he sneered, “and act consequently.”

“Ah, same as with the arson episode then?” Eita chuckled merrily. “But I no longer work under the sandaime, Mi - na - to! What will he do to me? Fire me?”

“Puns,” Namikaze spat coldly, “are my personality quirk. And, to answer your question… you should be wondering what I will do.”

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

Namikaze’s jaw had ticked. “…I hope for your sake that you don’t find out.”

“Awwww, I’m shaking in my boots,” Eita deadpanned. “What, are you planning on blowing yourself up with those sparkly little fireworks of yours again?”

“Perhaps,” Namikaze ground out. “But rest assured that I would take you right with me.”

Eita whistled. “A bold statement.” He glanced at Hatake Kakashi again, who was still visible through the window. “But tell me. You don’t even know the brat, Namikaze. I can understand wanting to defend that cunt you adore so sincerely – but this random kid?”

“Repeat that again, you–!”

“Is he worth your life?” Eita continued, interrupting Namikaze before he could even get started. “Don’t tell me you want to play hero now. The role doesn’t suit you.”

“You will–” Minato began, his eyes narrowed to dangerous skits, however, Eita never did find out what would befall him for in that second, the window opened and Hatake Kakashi poked his head out, perhaps having sensed or heard something. The blond promptly clamped his mouth shut. Hatake Kakashi glanced around with surprisingly sharp eyes for a six-year-old boy, and even went as far as to climb to the roof to investigate. Little idiot, Eita thought. That would have been his last free action if Eira had been up there alone. As it was, by the time Hatake made it to the rooftop, both elite shinobi crouching atop it had disappeared into the night. 

(Operation: acquire Hatake Kakashi – had failed. Eita disliked failure, but failure because of Namikaze Minato was utterly intolerable. He knew in that moment that if he and Namikaze were ever to fight again, one of them would die.)

---

 

 

 

Thus, all plans to kidnap the Hatake boy had been canceled and Eita had been sent back on missions again. His thoughts were mostly for Namikaze. He had forgotten all about the other girl he’d kidnapped until he was told to take a crack at the new batch of recruits. He stepped into the room and found himself face to face with eight brats. Like all new initiates, their masks had a number on them. He released a negligible amount of killing intent and waited for their reactions. Numbers one, two and five stiffened but stayed still. Numbers three, six, seven and eight recoiled. Number four didn’t seem to be noticing anything amiss.

“Hello,” he said simply. “I am Eita. You may address me as ‘senpai’. I was told that you are a rather rebellious bunch.” He looked into each of their faces intently. “I wonder why.”

None of them replied. He decided to test them individually. “One!” The brat stiffened. He approached to loom over the boy. “If I told you right now to hit number three, would you do it?”

The boy stared at him, going completely still. He could see wide almond eyes behind the mask. “I… I… I – he’s my team ma–”

“I wasn’t asking whether you should do it or not. Just whether you would.”

He watched the boy like a hawk. This one was easy to break. He increased his killing intent the slightest bit and the boy melted in its wake like putty. “Well, number one? I’m waiting. Hit number three.” Number one swallowed and glanced over at the other boy. “Go on, number one.”

The boy dragged his feet, but then Eita shot him a single irritated look and the boy practically ran the rest of the way and kneeled number three in the ribs.

Eita noticed that the rest of the children kept glancing at number five in particular, who was standing in the midst of them and staring at the proceedings with balled fists. Ah, so that was the ringleader. If he cracked number five, the rest would follow suit.

He stepped forward until he was standing in front of the blond brat. He crouched so that their faces were level. “Got something to say, number five?” Behind the mask, he noticed flinty eyes narrowed hatefully at him. “No? Nothing? What a shame.” Eita stood up again. “Well, let’s see. Why don’t you hit number eight in that case?” Number eight was the frailest and most intimidated, he could tell. Number five stood there in silence, looking at number eight, then at him, then back again.

“Number five,” he said with raised brows. “We don’t have all day. Go on now. It’s just an exercise.”

Then – number five spoke shakily. “No.”

He doubled his killing intent. “No?”

He could tell that the brat was trembling, but still the kid  didn’t move to do as he was told, not budging even an inch. He had been right in his assessment, it seemed.

“Well, number five. You might want to rethink that. Don’t you know what happens to those who show a senpai insubordination?” Number five stayed silent. He didn’t wait any longer, sending his shadow tendrils out at once, to wrap around the blonde like pitch black tentacles. The other children screamed bloody murder and jumped in place, number five thrashing wildly but in vain, yelling in pain, the loudest of them all. He watched the proceedings, his right hand curled into a lazy handsign as he controlled the shadows. He remembered this one now – Yamanaka Inoichi’s daughter, the great granddaughter of the nidaime. She’d be all the more terrified, seeing as he had kidnapped her in the same manner. Breaking her shouldn’t be too hard…

Finally, he let the panting brat go. He’d roughed her up a bit, keeping her from breathing for a while, breaking a few ribs, but nothing major. Those gulping breaths must be painful though.

“Well, now you know,” he said quietly, pausing to look at all the children for a long moment. “Number two!” The boy jumped to attention. “I want you to kick number five in the chest.”

Number two’s eyes went wide and horrified, but he did exactly as he was told. “Good,” said Eita. “Number three. Do the same.” Again, the little boy followed his command like a frightened rabbit. Good. They were all terrified, weren’t they? He told each one of the children to kick number five, cataloging the hesitance with which they followed his order. Number eight, to his surprise, delivered the softest kick. Well, the brat looked like a wimp so he’d let it go for now. He glanced at the kids with distaste. What a bunch of weak little morons. He wondered whether he would have been as pathetic in their place. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it? One, take number five to the medic. We’re done for today.”

---

Much to his chagrin, he was informed that number five’s behavior had continued as usual, though the rest of the brats had fallen in line more after that. He advised his colleagues in charge of curbing their spirits to make an example out of the blonde. “Make her pay for each little insubordination. Take away her food, rough her up, make her do extra laps, whatever,” he’d told them. “It’s basic psychology: the brats will be so relieved not to be in her place that they will fall in line without complaint. If you punished all of them, then that would just unite them.”

A while later, the bi-monthly evaluation of all the new recruits took place. About twenty of them had gathered. There were a few number fives among them all, though he spotted the particular one he was looking for easily. Her chakra coiled around her protectively. She was scared. Good. He looked away, pleased.

“Hello. I am Eita. Today, I will be in charge of evaluating you all,” he told the room at large. “You may come at me with whatever weapons or jutsu you like. I will only use the shadows in this room to defend myself. If you lose consciousness, you will fail. My strong limitation is that I cannot use solid shadows, which means you only have to watch the walls, ceiling and floor for my attacks. If you can force me to use a solid shadow to best you, then that means you are ready for field work.” There was no question whether he could best them all, the only question was whether he’d have to use the Shadow Gale technique or not. He looked around, memorizing those who seemed more apprehensive. “Now go!”

He was quick to capture, strangle or stab about one one third of the participants with his shadows in the first three minutes – all without moving from the same spot. It was an unspoken rule that he never bothered to move for this sort of thing – give the brats a bit of a chance. The other half of the candidates (the ones still standing after a minute and a half) were the ones who would likely pass. He began to focus on picking off the ones he was certain could pass, using the Shadow Gale technique to do so, thereby giving them a default win, whilst meanwhile conducting further observation on the rest. He couldn’t help but look at the line of eliminated and passed out agents that had been moved to the corners of the room. As much as he searched, he couldn’t find her. The brat who had covered his armour in snot. Damn it. Where was number five?

It was only when he began to actively wonder where she was that he found the girl perched on one of the rafters, hidden so well that if he hadn’t thought to look for her, he wouldn’t even have sensed the minute trace of quivering chakra up in the ceiling. How had she even gotten there?  Irritated, he shot a shadow up the wall and toward the rafter she was on. His shadow tendril was quick enough that he managed to touch her ankle just as she attempted to jump off, tearing her back in midair as the ankle popped. 

He removed the shadow and turned to the rest of the candidates, continuing to sort through those ready to pass. A bit later, he glanced at the piles of passed out or moaning bodies in the corners of the room, fully expecting number five to be snotting on some poor sod, only she wasn’t there. Eita’s jaw clenched. That could not be. 

To his utter befuddlement, he found her struggling to return to the high ground yet again, having nearly made it to a rafter that was even further up than the previous one.  Annoyed, Eita sent three tendrils at her now, but the precocious child had noticed his attack and quickened her climbing pace, managing to latch onto the uppermost window just in time – dangling from it precariously but not falling. He was forced to halt in his shadows in their tracks. The window was a source of light. His shadows couldn’t get there – not the normal way, at least. He would need to use the Shadow Gale technique to haul her down, but that would mean letting the annoying child pass. She would not pass. Not under his watch. 

Eita breathed in deeply, forcefully focusing his thoughts again. Her resistance was of little consequence, he told himself. Number five’s ankle had to have been broken earlier, when she had jumped off the rafter and her weight had pulled her down but his shadow had kept the ankle in place. He was certain he had not imagined the way it had caved – in other words: there was no way she’d stay up there until the end of the test. Yes, that was right. She could try to resist but it would be futile, just like when he’d kidnapped her or when he had forced the other recruits to hit her for her troubles.

Pleased with this assessment, Eita left the three shadows hovering around her window and returned his attention to the rest of the candidates, taking his time in combing through the last of them. He couldn’t help but keep shooting glances at the small window, however, but every time he looked, the girl was still clinging to it. Damn it. Finally, the time came when he had picked off the last candidate. Or the second last. Only number five was left. He turned toward the odious child with irritation.

“Come down, five.”

She did not move.

“The test is over.”

She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. He gritted his teeth. He had lied; it wouldn’t be over until she either passed or failed and apparently, for all her stupidity, the girl knew this.

“Hm, stay there then, if you want,” he said, affecting disinterest. “You know you’ll have to come down eventually if you want to eat.”

He leaned against a column, watching her. Waiting for the inevitable. The brat kept clinging to the damn window. Five minutes passed. She showed no signs of letting go anytime soon. Her ankle was starting to look like an overripe peach. She kept holding on.

After the one hour mark was up, Eita simply made a shadow-clone and left the room, ushering the rest of the participants (many of which had lingered to watch their showdown) out irritably. The brat could stay in the rafter all she wanted – he was certain that once she saw he could go and just leave a shadow clone behind, she’d cave. More time passed and his shadow clone still hadn’t popped. Hadn’t it gotten the memo to dispel itself once the girl quit?

Beginning to get angry, Eita deliberately left headquarters, something he only ever bothered to do for missions, and stopped by a nearby bakery. It was closing time so he managed to obtain sweet delicacies left over from the day’s work for a small price. He returned to headquarters and relieved his clone. As he had feared, the damn brat still hadn’t moved from the window. He knew she was hungry though – starving even – from the way in which her eyes tracked the basket of sweet buns he was holding. He hadn’t even pulled them out yet and she could already smell them. He ate the sweets slowly and languorously in front of her, listening to the noises made by her empty stomach.

“You’re missing dinner,” he commented casually, between bites. 

She did not reply. 

He tried again, yaw ticking. “Would you like a sweet bun?” he held it out to her tantalizingly. All you have to do is come down, girl. Come the fuck down.

The damned brat did not move. 

 

He was forced to finish all the sweet buns without anything to show for it. Refusing to be bested by some little girl, Eita settled in for the night, watching her blankly. She watched him back.

To his utmost distaste, that night there was a full moon and it produced just enough light that his shadows still couldn’t reach her even after the sun had gone down. Eita made a show of getting drowsy and dozing off, though the girl didn’t fall for it. She stayed up there, clinging to the stupid window, all night, her arms trembling from the exertion. Eita had to hand it to her, the best must have been a big fan of jungle gyms before she was kidnapped for her to hold out this long. Or perhaps his colleagues really were assigning her an inordinate amount of physically-exerting punishments that had strengthened her arms. How annoying. 

(He was forced to stay and breathe in the stale, disgusting air of the dojo, to stay put and listen to the girl‘s pitiful sniffing as she massaged her ankle with her other foot for hours on end, never taking his eyes off him, her grip on the window ledge  white knuckled.) 

 

It was all for nothing, because the Damn girl did not come down. When mornings dawned, they were both still awake, staring at each other, neither having moved during the entire night.

 

With the first sun rays came the presence of Root agents, who had entered the dojo for training and stopped short upon seeing him there. Him and the girl. He could see judgment in their eyes. 

Losing the last shred of his patience, he went up there to get her himself before even more people could come and see the spectacle . He was mindful not to use the Shadow Gale but his own two hands as he roughly grabbed the precocious child and hauled her off the window, the girl once more screaming bloody murder and attracting even more attention as she latched on for dear life. He pried each finger off one by one and then dragged her kicking and flailing form by the damn hair toward the door, yanking on it like a dog’s leash.

“NO! Not my hair!” she screamed shrilly. “Leave my hair alone!”

This had shocked him. He knew the girl was a Yamanaka, but the girl herself should not. The folks of that clan always wore their hair in long ponytails, a symbol of pride and status to them. That she should care about her hair at all…

It explained things.

There was no way any child could be this rebellious with their memories wiped, without any identity or sense of belonging to hold onto. There was simply no way. There was no way a girl with no survival training and no memories left would have the backbone to hold out  against hunger and exhaustion for an entire night like that. Not, unless…

Damn it.

Yamanka Inoue should have gotten the memory removal done on her long ago. What. Had. Gone. Wrong? That damn asshole in charge would pay for embarrassing Eita in front of his subordinates in such a way. Damn him and damn this girl.

With one hand, he pulled out a kunai. With the other, he clasped her face. 

“I’m sorry – what did you just say?” 

The girl stopped crying, staring at the kunai fearfully, then recoiling, but did not repeat herself. He had heard her just fine the first time though.

Not my hair.

Her chest was heaving for air, her hands trembling violently. He paid them no heed.

With rough, satisfying lashes, Eita lobbed the blond mop off. He watched the girl watch the golden strands of the last bit of her heritage drop to the floor, and paused to let her take that in. Then, once Eita was sure she had gotten a good look, he seized her yet again, this time by the arm, uncaring of her broken ankle as he hastened like a furious tornado toward the memory-wiper.

“Urushi,” he growled.

“E-eita-san –!”

“You have failed in wiping this girl’s mind. Why is that?”

“I – I don’t know what you’re talking about! We had a session a month ag–”

“Repeat it then,” he snapped icily. “And do your damn job this time.” He threw the girl into his arms, broken ankle giving away and landing her flat on the cold tiles. “Repeat it, as many times as it takes.”

“ No! Leave me alone! Leave me alone !” She attempted to get up and flee. Before she could, Eita turned and closed the door behind him with a click of finality. The spit fire had guts, he had to admit. But she was too stupid to put that courage to good use. And hopefully, once her memory was wiped right and proper, she’d finally fall in line. 

(He heard her shrieking long after he’d left Urushi’s office, as he walked through the hallway and down some stairs, past the lockers and the kitchen area; the screams echoed in the quiet building. He exited the west wing and took a passage further down, until finally he’d gotten far away enough that the shouting faded into nothingness.)

---

As it turned out, his imposed haircut on number five backfired spectacularly. Long-haired, it had not been so apparent, but with her hair short and spiky, the girl’s resemblance to a young Tobirama Senju was apparently uncanny. And of course, Danzo being the Tobirama simp that he was, had to choose that moment to suddenly develop a conscience. Eita was not bogged down by feelings overmuch, but he understood them on a theoretical level just fine. The old man, it appeared, felt guilty for breaking his supposed ‘only kidnapping orphans who had drawn the short end of the stick anyway’ motto and taking number five, who had had a life of sunshine and flowers ahead of her. Danzo had pretty much orphaned her – his beloved idol’s descendant. And now he felt bad about it.

Only goes to show how hypocritical most people are , Eita thought with distaste. Even Danzo .

If the old man was going to feel guilty about the kidnapping, then he shouldn’t have ordered it in the first place, rather than retroactively scolding Eita for instilling some discipline into the girl. But noooo – of course logic would always be thrown out of the window the moment things like feelings cropped up. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he listened to the old man jabber his ear off.

“–so will you please explain to me what the hell you did in that room, Eita?” the leader of Root hissed at him. “Why did you let her pass? She’s not ready! All of the instructors say so – she was the least ready of every candidate in that room – so how could you let her pass? And break her ankle? There’s no way she’ll take to Root like this!”

Eita’s teeth gritted. Every agent in attendance had interpreted his physical manhandling of the girl as a sign of him passing her, seeing as he never bothered to move from the spot during testing but she had forced him to. Now he couldn’t go back on his supposed word or he’d look even worse.

“I passed the damn girl so let her go to the field,” he muttered gruffly. Better that than to admit he’d been sleep-deprived enough to let the brat get to him. She’d likely just die and then they’d be rid of her. “If blondie’s all she’s cracked up to be, she’ll be fine.” She wasn’t, so of course she wouldn’t be.

Danzo shook his head and sighed.

“From what the instructors tell me, the girl refuses to learn anything whatsoever. Stubborn till the bitter end – just like nidaime-sama.” He stared forlornly out of the window, whilst Eita suppressed the urge to retch. Of course the old man would have to liken the girl being an utter imbecile with the nidaime’s apparent stubbornness, a man widely known as the smartest shinobi in history. Of course.

“Danzo-sama… I think we should just return the girl to her family,” Eita said, after a moment longer of inwardly rolling his eyes at the old man. “It’s clear she refuses to cooperate on all fronts.  Not even psychological warfare seems to  be breaking her spine. At this point, she’s more trouble than she’s worth. I’m sure I could arrange for her to be found by a Konoha team and make it look like she’s been kept captive by Iwa – we’d just have to erase her memories very thoroughly.”

“No,” Danzo retorted. “The girl’s resistance to mind techniques could mean that she might remember something. I can’t risk that.”

“Good grief!” Eita snapped, thrusting his hands into the air in a rare display of annoyance. “It’s not like the damned brat knows who we are. Even if her memories were magically restored, we all wear masks and she’s never even seen you. People would just assume that she got into some shady training program run  by Iwa.”

“But she has become rather intimately acquainted with your shadows, has she not?” Danzo snapped. “That’s a calling card if I ever saw one.”

“No, it’s not. The Shadow Gale is a technique I developed in secret. Admit it: not even you knew about it when you recruited me, and neither do the ordinary forces. I only ever used it when I was alone, back before Root,” Eita recalled. He had been so apprehensive of the technique being discovered… he had known that it was quite terrifying in appearance. Now that Eita thought about it, he didn’t understand why Shibuimaru  had gone to such abnormal lengths to hide his true strength from others. He supposed he had always known what would happen the moment they saw him for who he was. He had been widely known as the Nara with the most control over shadows ever recorded in history, but no one, not even his clan, had fathomed even half of what he could truly do with them. The moment they’d gotten a taste, they’d–

Danzo’s reply shook him out of his thoughts. “No. We’re keeping her. That’s final. The girl will come around sooner or later. She’ll see reason… she’s stubborn, but once she understands why we’re doing this, she’ll join us wholeheartedly. I’m sure of it. Nidaime-sama would have approved of Root. He would have understood.”

“I see.”

Eita sneered beneath his mask. So this was just about the nidaime after all? Since his descendant seemed to hate Root so viscerally, Danzo couldn’t bear to let her go without changing her mind first? He wanted fucking validation? From a six-year-old? What a dumb ass reason to make important choices. Eita was never going to understand why people considered feelings such a good thing. He decided to try one last time, for the sake of his sanity.

“Danzo-sama. Don’t you think Charca resembles nidaime-sama quite a bit more? The boy has flourished in Root. I am sure he would be the first to tell you that the purpose of this organisation is a just one. Number five is an imbecilic  six-year-old. She has no business passing judgment over something she barely understands.”

Danzo shrugged. “Charca is a nice boy, to be certain, but he barely takes after nidaime-sama, personality wise.”

“He seems intelligent.” Unlike the girl.

Danzo’s eyes narrowed, apparently losing his patience. “Look, Eita. I don’t need to explain myself to you. You, on the other hand, do. What were you thinking when you passed number five? You declare her ready for field work one minute and then, the next you’re telling me to return her to Konoha?” 

Eita opened his mouth. 

“No, don’t even answer that,” Danzo cut in. “Frankly, you might have had the right idea. I don’t care why you made the choice but now you’re sticking to it.” The elder smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “So. Time to put your money where your mouth is. You’re taking her with you on missions – like a jonin sensei, yes? – effective immediately.”

For a moment, all Eita could hear was static. “…excuse me?” he asked faintly. Did he just hear ‘jonin sensei’?

“You heard me,” Danzo replied, unperturbed. “I have high hopes for this girl, but it sounds like conventional teaching methods won’t work on her. That’s fine. Her refusal to learn just attests to the strength of her character. By passing her, you have opened up the possibility of a different venue of training. A trial by fire, so to speak.” 

“Beg your pardon?” This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Not in Root. 

“I’m sure the girl will be much more open to learning the ninja arts when her life is on the line,” Danzo elucidated. “It won’t really be, of course – you’ll make sure she’s safe the entire time – but she, of course, won’t know this.”

He stared at the elder in horror. Danzo wanted him to be a babysitter ?

“Can’t you send someone else?” Eita asked, still in shock. He felt a violent dislike for the brat, insofar as he was able to feel much of anything, but the thought of being some kind of jonin-sensei to this girl was enough to make him want to retch.

“No. You’re the best we have,” Danzo countered, “and I wouldn’t entrust nidaime-sama’s descendant to anyone but the best.”

“I… very much do not qualify for this job, Danzo-sama,” Eita uttered emphatically. 

Danzo did not heed his warning. “Yes, you do. Now, I’ll send you on an easy mission tomorrow. You’ll be taking the girl with you. If she does well, we’ll start picking up the pace.”

He stared at Danzo expressionlessly. To the old man, the Yamanaka may look like his beloved nidaime, but all Eita could see was blond hair and blueish eyes, all he could feel – the infuriating sensation of – not being in control. He hated how familiar it was. He hated all of it. He hated her. 

Well, he had warned the old man.

Eyes raising up to meet Danzo’s, he intoned: “yes, sir.” 

---

Missions with number five along for the ride were even worse than he had pictured. She would drag her feet at the worst moments, always managed to get in the way, clearly had no idea of fighting whatsoever and worst of all – used any available chance to try to escape.

She was a thorn in his side, but one he couldn’t crush even if he had the ability to. He settled for roughing her up a little in hopes of breaking her spirit, and then had one of the others carry her back.

Danzo was not pleased. “I told you to bring her back alive, not half dead.”

He gave the old man an irritated look. “What’s it to you, Danzo-sama? She’s nothing like the nidaime. No talent, no discipline, no respect . We’ll get no use out of her at this rate.”

“I don’t care what you think about the matter,” Danzo growled. “Did you understand my order or not, subordinate? I want that girl alive and well.”

---

His anger at the girl kept building and building, until finally she did it. He was stuck looking after a squad of younger recruits who had only a small while ago been approved field ready. He was tasked to accompany them on their first mission seeing as he was like a one-man army and an intimidation factor all rolled into one.

When they encountered a squad of enemy nin, he barely glanced at what number five was up to. He had found that the odious little twerp, though useless for everything else, was atypically good at avoiding death. During combat, she would flit around people’s legs and slit tendons here and there, staying well out of Eita’s way. Somehow, she kept surviving despite his growing urge to see her kick it, even though his task was to ensure the opposite.

Only this time, not looking at her (something he usually did in hopes that she’d die and he could claim innocence) proved to be fatal. One second he was fighting the enemy nin alongside the others, next second a smoke bomb had gone off – and when it cleared, he realized that his entire squad was gone. They’d left. Just left. No, his mind supplied. They’d escaped .

That little fuck .

He ramped up the pace, using large amounts of chakra to finish off the enemy nin as fast as possible. Once he was done, taking longer than he’d have liked, Eita tore after the trail of those traitorous shits. He was under no illusion as to whose fault this was.

The trees flashed past him as he sprinted furiously after the brats, the landscape changing the farther he got into Suna territory, where tracking became notoriously harder. He pushed on and heard the sounds of fighting in the distance. It appeared the brats had encountered some trouble. That would teach them. He still pressed forward, however, faster even than before. 

He could’ve spared himself the effort.

The sight that greeted him upon finally catching up was: gigantic craters with both Suna nin and some of the rebellious brats lying within, dead. The far off presences of leftover enemies escaping, ostensibly after sensing his enraged chakra. And then, there, splayed on the bloodened sand, the only one left alive: number five. Root’s most promising new recruit, number seven, was in the crater next to her. Well, his legs were. 

Damn it, Danzo would have Eita’s head for losing a squad like this. He had warned the old man that keeping number five was a bad idea.

“Well, well, well.” His voice was calm as he advanced toward her, but it was an act. “Look who got all her little friends killed?”

She didn’t even glance at him. That was the last straw.

Eita grabbed her leg and started to pull it upward, and finally her face snapped toward his. If Danzo wasn’t ready to take care of this nidaime-shaped problem, then Eira would. He took in the emotions reflected in the seafoam eyes, her frantic gaze and the way her fingers frantically tried to find purchase on the hot sand, the way she was trying to push herself away from him; Eita took in the way that this blond-haired, seafoam-eyed child so very obviously had finally, finally caved to him – and could almost picture Namikaze in her stead. 

A thrill of pleasure shot up his spine and he pulled further up, her leg going all the way. She was screaming by that point, pitch heightening as the limb got closer and closer to the breaking point, but he kept pushing until – 

 

He waited until she was coherent again, then slowly lifted her face towards him, placing his lips to her ear.

“It was about time… don’t you agree, number five?”

With the desert heat and her broken femur, he gave her a day, tops. She stared at him with an expression so stark it could’ve meant a million things. 

But she had wanted to escape Root, hadn’t she? Well, he’d given her her wish. She would never see any member of the organisation again. It was perhaps a different escape than what she had envisioned, but Eita refused to put up with the odious child ever again. And since Danzo refused to send her back, this was the only way. Straightening, he let go of her leg, the disjointed limb plopping to the sand with a dull thud. He stood from his crouch and cast a cursory glance over the blonde. Maybe a day had been a generous estimate. 

With this thought, he turned and began the long march back to headquarters. He felt her eyes on his back until her form disappeared in the distance. 

---

 

 

PART TWO

 

 

 

The news of the entire squads’ deaths made his rep go down, as Eita had known they would. Danzo seemed especially mad at her death in particular and accused him of not doing enough to save the nidaime’s blasted descendant. Eita had replied coldly that it was the brat’s fault for trying to escape in the first place and that if Danzo had a problem with that, then he could take it up to those who hadn’t managed to discipline her properly. He did not mention that she’d have survived if not for his intervention.

More time passed and despite his still-ongoing ( ugh ) anger at Eita, Danzo had apparently seemed to realize that he could do nothing about it, seeing as Eita was Root’s very best. Before  long, he found himself returning to his usual duties of guarding Danzo when the elder got paranoid. During those days it was mostly  due to meeting with an old comrade, some Uchiha who’d been in Danzo's unit.

“…my son! He has been kidnapped,” the man wailed. “Danzo – you don’t – you don’t have anything to do with that, do you? Hirzuen told me he’s approved a program for training war orphans with small survival chances of survival into soldiers… and that it was your idea…”

“Who do you take me for?” Danzo had replied darkly. “No. I have not taken your kid – nor would I want anything to do with any spawn of yours, period.” The elder paused. “You’re a bastard, but – I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well… what now? What if – the sharingan–”

“Has he unlocked it?” Danzo questioned urgently.

“What?” the other exclaimed. “Shisui is six ! How on earth would he have done that?”

“Ah, good. That means we have time. His captors will surely attempt to awaken the dojutsu. We must get to him before that happens.”

Danzo’s ‘old comrade’ breathed in deeply. “So it’s true then? You are running some kind of underground…?”

“Yes,” Danzo said bitingly. “And you will join us, Kagami.”

Kagami balked. “Me? Join it? Are you insane?”

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Danzo. “Those eyes of yours are a terrible weapon and you know it. If you want your son back, you better help us find him. We are very short-staffed as is.”

“But – the mangekyou sharingan makes the user go blind,” Kagami said slowly. 

Danzo’s eyes narrowed. “How much eyesight have you left?”

“…not a lot,” the other confessed. “You know I overused it – back then.”

The man nodded. “Alright. I suppose we should save it for something truly important in that case.”

“My son is truly important!”

“Will you can it already? I know that! And I will look for him! But Hiruzen has me taking care of the entire west front on my own – you think I’ve got men to spare for long searches? That kid could be anywhere at this point!”

Naturally, they ended up deploying a large amount of resources in finding the Uchiha brat, to no avail. From what little they  managed to discover, he had never made it to the prison he was supposed to be tortured in to awaken the sharingan. In other words: just about anyone could have found and captured him, from any country, to use for their own nefarious agenda. Eventually, search efforts were stopped as the war casualties increased. Eita was forced to guard Danzo whenever the Kagami guy went to whine at him about his son.

“If you don’t look for him, I’m going to tell Hiruzen about this shithole, Danzo!”

“You wouldn’t dare, you bastard.”

“I damn well would! You know that this isn’t what sensei would have wanted!”

“He would have understood! If we lose the war, it won’t be just a few children going through hell! Without me, the entire west front–”

“Fuck your excuses, Danzo! You know sensei and his brother made the village so that children wouldn’t have to fight in wars anymore! He’s bound to be rolling in his grave at your actions!”

“SHUT UP!” Danzo thundered. “If we lose the war, then every child will be killed or forced to watch their mother be raped! It happened to me, this is–”

“You’re not every child!”

“My training means taking a few to spare the many!”

“You are ruining their lives, you monster!”

“Don’t you realize that only those who have most suffered make it to the top?! Their pain makes them stronger! We need strong soldiers!”

The tedious arguments were frequent. Eita was glad when things got bad enough that Danzo stopped making time for Kagami, choosing instead to camp out in the field to better direct the troops, so that lag times between commands would be less. One less chore for him.

It was during the great battle of Morikawa that Eita saw Namikaze Minato again.  Just the sight of him set his teeth on edge.

From what he’d heard, the blond’s infiltration of the Iwa forces had been key to finding out the enemy’s strategy and thus their victory. He watched the blonde with hateful eyes, though Namikaze wasn’t doing anything worthy of note, just praying and making sad eyes at the fallen. Once and only once did their eyes meet, and even though Eita had been wearing a mask, Namikaze’s blue eyes seemed to see all of him, just as intense as he remembered them to be. Despite the battle already being over, Eita’s muscles tensed and his shadows coiled around him protectively. Namikaze did not seem surprised at the sight of them, though his eyes had narrowed. Then he turned away abruptly and continued with his little prayers. 

As he had done many times before, Eita wondered whether Namikaze was lying in this too, pretending to care about these faceless nobodies. He certainly seemed very mournful. As for Eita, if one could ignore the foul mood Namikaze had put him in, he was feeling quite accomplished today. Konoha had well and truly won in the west – and none of his comrades would be able to deny what a large part he had played in all of it. Soon, he was certain, he would be picked as Danzo’s direct successor. He had to be. There was no one else, especially as the man aged he would need someone to take over the in field directives… Eita intended to be that someone. 

Now Konoha would have to focus on defending the northern corner of Fire Country, a task he was certain Danzo would entrust to him in what concerned Root’s involvement. Pleased, he turned to face away from Namikaze, whom he’d still been glaring at without realizing, and turned to look around. Medics were flitting about the area whilst special clean-up teams packed up the dead and sealed fallen Uchiha and Hyuga’s eyes. A few meters off, he spotted Uchiha Fugaku himself overseeing the proceedings, though he had not been prepared for the sight of a brat by his side. Apparently the clan-head had thought it sensible to bring his four-year-old son to take a look at the aftermath. Eita strongly disapproved. He hated children and whenever he saw one, he was reminded of that odious brat number five, who was thankfully gone. Still, the girl had been a threat to his career. Even so, he had to give it to the Uchiha clan head that the earlier the kids learned what life was really like, the better. He spared a brief thought to his little brother and wondered how he was doing. Shikaku’s brain-dead teammate Inoichi had already had that horrible brat number five some years ago, and though Inoichi was older than Shikaku, Eita wondered whether his little brother would feel an urge to procreate as well. Knowing him, he might.

A ways off, he noticed Kagami and Danzo having some kind of hushed discourse. Surprisingly, Danzo’s useless pest of a former comrade had also played an important role in the battle thanks to his mangekyou. Eita knew Danzo disliked the man though and couldn’t wrap his head around why he continued to put up with him and his fussiness. Eita’s musings were cut off when he felt a sudden presence – someone who had not yet died – moving . That meant danger. Instincts on high alert, he reached out with a lightning-fast shadow tendril but was shocked when the presence became so faint he could no longer sense it. His tendril came back empty. He looked around carefully, like a cat in the night searching for a mouse.

Then he heard Namikaze cry out in shock somewhere to his left. He turned, only to see a ghost. Two ghosts.

By then the rest of the higher-ups had come to check on the ruckus as well – Danzo, Kagami, Fugaku and a few generals – though not many seemed to understand the relevance of what they were seeing.

“Huh. False alarm,” one of the generals breathed out. “It’s just two kids.”

The spineless idiot was right in his assessment, though Eita would scratch out the ‘just’. The two stood there, in the middle of the corpse-littered field, the taller child  blonde and wiry, spikey-haired and with cat-like eyes that were narrowed deeply. From behind peeked out a shorter boy, black-haired and so very small – his eyes: red.

For a moment, the battlefield was utterly silent.

“Dad!” the Uchiha child shouted suddenly, throwing all reservations to the wayside and bounding forward like a torpedo. Before anyone could so much as blink, the boy had rocketed through half the field and leapt at a sellshocked Kagami. It almost would have looked like he was being attacked if not for the child immediately burying his face in Kagami’s shirt and starting to cheer. “Dad! Dad! Dad! You’re here! Whopee!

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then Uchiha Kagami seemed to finally register what had just happened.

“S-Shisui…?” the man stuttered, sounding like he believed he was dreaming. Next to Eita, Uchiha Fugaku was trying in vain to dispel a genjutsu that didn’t exist. The small boy standing by his side was staring at the scene unfolding with his mouth agape.

Meanwhile, Kagami has pried the child off of him to examine his face, tracing every bit of it in his near blindness.

“Shisui,” the man began to sob. “It’s you… Shisui. Shisui ,” he murmured desperately. “Oh, my son, Shishui, you’re here , I just – I cannot – how? – I –”

Shisui had not been considerate enough to wait for his father to finish and was talking over him, chattering at a mile a minute and gesticulating wildly.

“Dad! Guess what happened to me! I’ve unlocked my sharingan! And nee-chan and I met these weird people that had this weird lair – it was so cool! And then we went to a river and there were crocodiles! And I played this game where I would jump from one crocodile’s mouth to the other and it was so fun ‘cause they wanted to eat me but every time one tried I would jump on its mouth, or nee-chan did, and then the crocodile couldn’t open its mouth because of our weight and–”

Eita looked away from the hug with disgust, looking for the other brat – but the taller child was gone.

“Where did that blond girl go?” he heard Namikaze ask sharply. The tone barely registered because he was looking around just as urgently. She may look different now – taller, tanner, more confident – but one glance at Danzo’s shell-shocked expression had been enough of a confirmation that he had not imagined this – that that blonde kid was –

Number five.

He felt his stomach sink with dread.

If number five told Danzo of what he had done to her …  – of course the elder would take her fucking side. He couldn’t let that happen. Where was the brat? He had to kill her. 

And yet, no matter how much he stretched out his perception, he couldn’t sense her. It was as though she’d vanished into nothingness. The nidaime was supposed to have been the best sensor in history, a man capable of locating any one individual even two countries away; but if he was a sensor then number five was a phantom. She was there, close by, he knew, and yet not . Eita was one of the best, and yet for all he looked he never saw her. But he had to find her, no matter what, he had to before Danzo could get to her.

That night, while their entourage stopped to make camp (they had to rest at least once on the way back to Konoha), Eita took off into the forest, looking for number five. He wasn’t the only one. He’d seen Danzo go off on his own as well, and already the fact that he hadn’t taken Eita with him spoke volumes. Namikaze had been missing from camp too, Eita had noticed, and Kagami had kicked up a ruckus because his recently-found child had disappeared to go per and was yet to return, prompting Fugaku and a few others to join him in a search as well.

In essence, the forest was filled with searching shinobi (and whatever it was Namikaze was doing). Eita knew, however, that wherever number five was, he had to get to her first. He’d been running at breakneck speed, looking everywhere for the brat, though without much luck, his shadows coiling around trees and crawling into nooks and burrows – without luck. 

And that’s when it happened – the event that would shape his life – and his death. He had sensed something approaching quickly, right behind him – his instincts had gone haywire at the obvious threat and he’d turned with a snarl, intending to kill whatever it was, when he was met with two glowing, red eyes in the dark. The sharingan.

Those eyes sucked him in and he had found himself frozen in place. The pair of eyes, to his shock, did not belong to Kagami or Fugaku, but rather to the little boy, the Shisui kid, the kindapee. The child had followed him? But how? And why? Eita had been going at top speed and the boy was short, couldn’t be any older than seven or eight, so how? And yet there he stood, red eyes spinning eerily in a pattern foreign to him, one he had never seen, glowing like midnight suns in the darkness. He tried to look away, but it was too late. The sharingan spun, and spun and spun.

---

 

 

Eita returned to camp a while later, pale and sweaty. He laid down on a tree branch and was unable to sleep. He felt as if a worm were crawling around his brain, inside his ears… he could almost feel it moving. There was nothing he could do to make it go away. He could barely think of anything but the worm. (The idea of going after number five again didn’t even occur to him.) He understood instinctively then that the child had done something to him, that those eyes had violated him in some way, down to the very core, and he found himself completely unable to relax with that boy anywhere close by. (Inside of him, the worm wriggled.)

“Is something wrong?” Danzo had asked him the next day. “You’ve been staring at that child the entire time.”

The Uchiha boy. He had spent the entire trip back to Konoha chattering away with his father and, later on, with Fugaku’s son. It was terrifying how the little brat acted like nothing at all had happened. Eita didn’t like to admit to weakness, had a pathological hate for it, but this had rattled him enough that he found himself saying: “that child is a monster.”

Danzo had given him a curious look. “What?”

“I had forgotten that children can be just as dangerous as any adult in this world of ours,” Eita rasped. “More, in his case.”

The man was starting to look alarmed. “What is the meaning of that?”

“Just don’t look into his eyes. No matter what you do.”

Danzo had turned to stare at the boy quizzically, who was being praised enthusiastically by the adults for being able to walk on water. The boy crossed the stream easily and gave his father a peace sign. Kagami and the rest of their entourage exclaimed over how talented he must be to be able to water walk already.

Shisui excitedly shouted that he also knew how to use ‘the sunscreen jutsu’, to which Kagami jovially asked what on Earth that was supposed to be. Shisui then described the body flicker technique. Another adult cut in that this was called the ‘sunshin’ rather than ‘sunscreen’. A huge argument ensued where Shisui loudly exclaimed that the correct name was sunscreen whilst the adults tried to make him see reason.

“Kagami’s spawn? He doesn't seem like much,” Danzo commented, turning back toward him Eita an odd expression.

Eita frowned irritably. “Personality is irrelevant. Only power matters, and that kid has the power of a god in his eyes, mark my words. ”

That shut the old man up. Eita wasn’t in the mood to field further questions on the topic and walked off. He had number five to worry about. Where was she? He had noticed the Shisui brat looking around as well. She had to be close by, because Eita often felt like he was being watched, though so far he hadn’t seen her nor sensed. He tried to think rationally on the matter, but the worm had wriggled inside his mind and nightmares had plagued him. Though he wanted to go after and kill number five, he found that he suddenly just – couldn’t. There was no reason to worry, he told himself. Five had never wanted to stay in Root in the first place. It would be fine. They would return to Konoha and he would never see the Shisui brat again. For all that he may want to kill that child, he knew that, just like number five, he would never be able to lay a finger on him, no matter how much he may want to.

(He was wrong, of course. He saw the odious boy in his thoughts every time he tried to close his eyes to sleep, but was unable to. He saw him when he eventually succumbed to sleep and had eerie nightmares, all of them varied but with the single common denominator of a childish voice saying: nee-chan …don’t hurt… nee-chan, over and over again. He was never able to fight at full capacity after that. And it would cost him dearly.)

His worries turned out to be entirely founded. For reasons unfathomable to him, number five had returned to Root, though claiming that her name was now Río. With the other notable exception of Charca, names were only given to the agents who earned them – by Danzo himself – but the elder was too happy to have number five back to complain about that. (There was no way Eita would be addressing her as anything but the scum she was though.) No one questioned her motives. Well, or maybe they did but Danzo wouldn’t have it. Eita had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

This was proven founded as well, when the first thing number five had done was spilling the beans about her supposed last moments and Eita’s role in them. Also predictably, Danzo had been absolutely livid at him. The man went as far as to prohibit Eita from going anywhere near the girl, not that he was eager to anyway, and assigning him a year-long mission in Suna – where there were barely any shadows. 

By the time he returned, he found out that the girl had picked up some water jutsu at some point. Her technique was unusual, but she was talented. Eita didn’t think her abilities were revolutionary by any means, but of course to Danzo they were a sign . 

(“Who taught you those jutsu, Rio?”

She’d scowled. 

“Life.”)

The nidaime’s favorite element had been water as well. Naturally, the elder saw parallels where there were none and his soft side for anything nidaime-related reared its ugly head again, even if the girl did nothing but be rude to him and scowl at people (though she mostly went along with what was required of her now) but apparently, this terrible bedside manner was also reminiscent of Tobirama and thus in fact a plus point where Danzo was concerned. So was her demand to be allowed to teach some of the youngest soldiers, even despite the various reports that she was a terrible teacher.

Charca, the other prodigal son (or grandson, as it were), was also clearly favored, but since the boy was the epitome of what any respectable ANBU should be, no one was surprised by Danzo being partial to him . Besides for a fuinjutsu prodigy, the young teen was a competent combatant and talented tactician, a hard-working Root agent who had absolute dominion over his emotions and could do what had to be done, red eyes blazing eerily.

Eita was quite certain that no one but him and Danzo himself knew of the nidaime’s relation to those two, not even the two kids in question, which is why it was a little jarring to see that Charca and number five had apparently met each other regardless. He didn’t know much about their relationship, but rumor had it Charca liked to beat her up, so he approved.

 

 

The war continued on and number five was enlisted for border crossing besides for her dreary teaching. It was a mystery to everyone how the runt had even managed to cross Konoha’s borders at all, especially with how tight security had been at the time, but she had refused to speak on the matter. (Evidence suggested that the brat had in fact traipsed all over the five ninja nations with Shisui in tow, all of this in the middle of a war and with no supplies, support, or even a map. This was no small feat. However, number five was so idiotic that she was unable to draw them even a basic on the border weaknesses. Strong dyslexia, Danzo had called it, refusing to see a fault in the idiotic girl.)

Eita had taken to avoiding her whenever possible. He found it made his nightmares slightly better.

---

 

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the runt wasn’t the only unwanted blond pest that reentered his life. One day, he had been in the midst of finishing a briefing when an agent had suddenly taken off his mask and wig, revealing… Namikaze Minato , in the flesh.

The blonde appeared calm, as though he weren’t clad in Root gear, an impostor who he snuck into a high clearance meeting. 

“Not to interrupt,” the blonde said evenly, “but may I talk to you, Danzo-san?”

For a moment, every agent in the room had just stared at him, completely frozen. Even Eita had found himself floored. How the fuck had he gotten in? How did he even know Root existed?

“What do you want?” Danzo asked warily, hand on his cane. Eita waited for the killing order.

“I wish to join your ranks,” Namikaze revealed point blank. “If you would have me.”

What the– was he serious?

“You’re an infiltrator,” Danzo stated. “Not an open combatant, Namikaze.”

“I am willing to learn,” said the blonde. “The general consensus seems to be that I’m a quick study.”

“Hm. And why, prey tell, would you want to join us? Are you aware of what it is that we do?”

“Yes, I…” Namikaze seemed to be weighing his words. “I would like to do my duty for this village. I have been told numerous times that I am wasting my potential in infiltration…”

Lies . Namikaze had never given a damn about other people’s opinions.

“So you came to us,” Danzo completed.

The blonde nodded. “Yes, I hope you won’t mind the intrusion.”

Such lies.

“The fact that you managed to get in here undetected speaks well of your ability,” Danzo commented, “but tell me – why not become a jonin that specialises in combat, or even an ANBU?”

The question was a valid one, especially with Namikaze’s insistence on playing the good guy.

“It’s simple,” the blonde said, looking at Danzo directly in the eyes. “I don’t do things by halves.”

That was it. He gave no further explanations – just that subtle compliment – which clearly had done its job. Danzo still seemed suspicious, but Eita could practically feel the man’s greed taking over. 

“Word on the street is that the sannin Jiraiya made a mistake in taking you in,” Danzo said carefully. “Tell me, Namikaze. Is this true?”

“I suppose I could go on at length about how  it’s not,” Namikaze said lightly, “but something tells me you’ll only settle for a demonstration. All I ask for is one thing.”

“Humor me,” Danzo said, eyebrow arched. 

“All I ask is that, whatever test you give me, you allow me to retake it. And I promise I shall pass.”

Danzo seemed to think on it. “Unorthodox – but – you have piqued my curiosity. Let’s see… if you can beat one of my best combatants in a spar, I will let you join.”

Eita noticed the blonde reflexively glancing at him and almost smirked.

Namikaze questioned: “how many tries do I have?”

Danzo said, “I will assign you a different opponent each go, but in exchange, you have as many attempts as men in this organization.”

“And that would be…?”

A snort. “Good try, Namikaze. But our numbers are confidential.”

 

Eita had stayed after that meeting in order to try to talk Danzo out of allowing Namikaze into Root, no matter how well he might do at the test. All he seemed to accomplish with this was to further pique the man’s interest.

“You seem rather certain he will pass,” Danzo had commented.

“Namikaze is a conniving bastard,” was all Eita could say in the matter, because of course Namikaze would pass. He was Namikaze. 

“If you can prove that he is dangerous to us, I will deal with him,” Danzo said. “Otherwise, get out of my hair. This is a sannin’s disciple we’re talking about. We would profit greatly from having him.”

Eita had delved deeper into the blond’s past then, searching everywhere for clues that could possibly sway Danzo to his way of thinking. None in Konoha had believed his younger self when he had told any who would listen to him that Namikaze was an the arsonist – the same as they hadn’t believed a word when he’d told them he had used to have an accent, that he was an immigrant. It was bewildering. How could they not know? 

From asking around, he had found out that Namikaze had never spoken back when he’d attended the Academy – at least not until the last years – which seemed to point toward him deliberately hiding his accent. Namikaze had had two close friends, one of which had gone on to opening a ramen stall of all things (but had refused to be cowed when Eira had cornered him) and the other, someone he could not even try to corner, for she was now Fugaku Uchiha’s wife, and as such, under constant security.

Frustratingly, Eita was only able to find out only a few things, such as that Namikaze had gotten his Fire Country surname from the old lady at the tea shop he’d used to work in, who had formally adopted him as heir to her small civilian clan. He had also learned that Namikaze’s cook friend had helped expand the business into a food delivery shop, and that Namikaze had done most of the delivering, thereby managing to a) develop the incredible stamina and speed he was now known for and b) make himself known to important people who would have otherwise have had no motive to ever talk to him. 

The tea shop, apparently, was now Namikaze’s property as the old woman had passed away. Other than that, all Eita could find was an old record of Namikaze’s enrollment papers in the Academy, dating from the very same day Eita had graduated, in which Namikaze was listed as ‘Himari no Minato’ rather than Namikaze Minato. It was a small lead, and, after doing some digging, Eita had found out that Himari was actually the name of a village, a small, rural settlement in the Land of Waves, which had been destroyed some years ago by Iwa shinobi who had attempted to take over Wave Country in order to have a stronghold close to Konoha. 

It was still odd, though. Eita had always had a good memory, and after visiting the place, he had realized that the accent of the wavern people was very different from the near intelligible garble that Namikaze’s speech had been the first time they’d met. He was not from Fire Country, nor Wave Country – so – from where?

He had dug deeper and found gold. Very notably, the village had been used to house refugees of the war, especially children who had lost their families to it. The refugees had been from all parts of the ninja nations, even Mist and Iwa, and chances were Namikaze could have been one of them, rather than simply a local of Wave Country.

If Eita could prove that he was, say, from mist… that would be huge . (Namikaze’s fair appearance was in fact rather more common of that area than it was in Fire Country, and much more so than Iwa, so if Eita had to guess, he would assume that Kiri was indeed where he came from – and wasn’t that a revelation? The harshest region of the Five Nations: Namikaze Minato’s homeland. The blonde’s little friends would have kittens if they found out.

Eita continued looking for evidence of Namikaze being from Mist, aware that no one would believe him with what he currently had. There were some records of Namikaze sending cheques through courier services to Wave Country for a few years, ending around the same time as Himari village was destroyed. He decided to bring his findings forward to Danzo at his earliest convenience and hope for the best.

Undoetubately, the small scrapes of evidence were not enough for Danzo. The elder insisted that he’d keep an eye on Namikaze, but that the organization would benefit from having him… should he be able to pass the test. Damn the man’s greed.

Predictably, after two failed attempts spanning across the following months, this is exactly what happened: Namikaze managed to beat one of the Root nin doubling as proctors, exclaiming happily over third time being the charm and flashing Eita a hidden smirk. Eita had watched all of this from the shadows. He had almost forgotten what this man was like. The speed at which Namikaze had improved upon and mastered new concepts was something he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it himself. It had taken him only a little over four months to get himself up to Root standards. He had been a low-level jonin (or high level chunin by pre-war standards) combatant the first time he had fought against his ‘proctor’ and low-level ANBU four months later. The man was simply inhuman.

Eita gritted his teeth. Combat was what he excelled at. Namikaze’s strengths had never lain in pure, simple fighting… and yet now he turned out to be as talented as one could get in this area as well? It simply wasn’t fair. But even an absolute genius would have needed to push himself to the very brink to achieve such a rapid improvement. And after so long of seemingly not caring about his status, sticking to the unfashionable infiltration units, why would Namikaze wish to join Root now? When the war was at its peak, when over a dozen Root agents died weekly, knowing that it was the branch of ANBU with the highest fatality rates? The sudden fire that seemed to have been lit under the blonde’s ass made no sense. Eita could tell that this was just the beginning, too. What was Namikaze’s angle, his motive? Why had he wanted to join Root? Did he want to beat Eita? Become the best? Replace Danzo? Why do it?

Number five was just as wary of Namikaze as him, he noted some time later. Every other agent had seemed to quickly take to and respect the man, going as far as to trust him, but not her. Admittedly, she was a very jumpy, suspicious individual. Even so, it was a little strange… did she know something about Namikaze that the others didn’t? He may hate the brat but her instincts were generally on point, this much he was forced to admit. Eita waited with baited breath for Namikaze to do something, anything at all, but the bastard simply took to Root like a duck to water, managing to network himself into the good graces of the organization at large – even Danzo’s. (If Eita had to listen to the blonde waxing poetics about the nidaime one more time, he would lose it.) 

As it was, Eita could barely believe his ears when he heard that Namikaze – now dubbed ‘Tsutsui’ had been made captain but a year into his Root tenure. The news stung even more when he discovered that Danzo had given him access to some of the nidaime’s long-lost notes found at the old house’s attic, which nobody knew still existed, and that Namikaze had managed to reverse-engineer Senju Tobirama’s most powerful technique thanks to them. He was getting stronger and stronger by the day and no one seemed to care about the obvious threat! Why was it always Namikaze? Damn him. Damn him to hell .

Eita had voiced his concerns to Danzo more than once, pointing out that he was clearly plotting something, that giving a pass to leave Root HQ for long stretches of time surely wasn’t a good idea, that Namikaze was still keeping up with friends from the outside , that he was dangerous and fishy , but Danzo had told him in no uncertain terms that Namikaze leaving was fine, as his networking talents proved very useful for him, and ignored the rest of Eita’s accusations. It became clear to him that no one believed him. Still, for all he waited for the other shoe to drop, the blonde never made any sort of move. He became even more confused about Namikaze’s intentions when the blonde later stepped down as Root captain in order to take a jonin sensei position outside of the organization. He would still go on missions for the foundation when his particular talents were needed, but was seen much less frequently, choosing instead to spend his time with a bunch of nine-year-olds who weren’t even Root (one of them the brat he had failed to kidnap) and playing house with his girlfriend.

By stepping down as captain, Namikaze ended up being paired up with number five, who, as previously stated, seemed deeply suspicious and wary of the guy, something Eita had never fully understood. Yes, he had known Namikaze long before Root even existed – but the girl? Apparently, she had talents in sneaking into most places, no matter how heavily guarded (which wasn’t such a surprise given her uncanny ability to hide even from trained sensors). Paired with Namikaze’s hiraishin, this made getting one-man armies through security extremely easy. 

Eita wasn’t invited to those parties (damn Danzo’s bias) but he’d heard enough reports to know the drill. Number five would go ahead and sneak into whatever unplottable fortress they were supposed to infiltrate that day, smuggling in a hiraishin kunai whilst she was at it, and that was basically the beginning of the end for those inside. Namikaze was enough to take on anyone who spotted them and could use his hiraishin to escape at any given time. It was a fool proof plan. Eita hoped number five at least would hate every second of it, but he should have known that not even she would be immune to Namikaze’s persuasive abilities. With the passage of time, she no longer seemed to be on the ‘mortal peril’ level of alertness around the blonde, which was practically a ringing endorsement from her. He wondered again what Namikaze’s game was. What if he was simply finally showing his true colors? Could it be that he was just like Eita and simply enjoyed the thrill of battle after all? Or maybe he was just a social climber who wanted to have one foot in each camp, to have the trust of both Hiruzen and Danzo at once?

His attention was diverted from the matter of Namikaze’s hidden agenda when one of the newly-minted captains (Namikaze’s replacement) asked him in vague terms whether it would be alright to leave a team member behind in certain circumstances. Normally, Eita would have said no. He didn’t give two hoots about his team but the war was fought in numbers and he only ever sacrificed pieces when he absolutely had to. However, he liked this guy – Susumu – and he detested number five… not to mention, he had a feeling this was about her. 

Susumu was one of the younger recruits, though already a captain in his own right… He had been the only surviving child of number five’s generation, number eight of her batch if Eita wasn’t mistaken. Susumu had been left behind because of an injury on the day that Río and the other brats had launched their escape… or, as they had later found out, because he had attempted to snitch on the group’s plans to escape, so the rest of the brats had knocked him out in an ‘accident’ right before leaving. By the time Susumu had woken up, news of the entire squad’s betrayal and subsequent deaths had been all over headquarters. 

Only Susumu had been left behind, and so he had lived and he had hated. Eita knew that, though Susumu didn’t pick fights with Río (likely aware that she was fast enough to dodge anything he could throw at her, thus ridiculing him), he always did everything in his power to make her life hell from the sidelines. Susumu didn’t dislike her because it was the ‘correct’ thing to believe, the way most agents  did, influenced by Eita’s obvious dislike and their fear and respect for him – Susumu hated her entirely for his own reasons. He hated her viscerally.

And it so happened that Susumu’s newly minted team had a mission coming up that Río would also be participating in. Eita believed he knew where this conversation was going.

“I guess you could leave someone behind in extenuating circumstances…” he said at last, giving Susumu a speculative look.

“Oh? So if, say, a squad was being chased down in enemy territory and one of its members couldn’t… keep up – for whatever reason – it would be acceptable?”

“If staying behind put all the other’s lives at risk, then of course.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, senpai.”

“Oh, no,” Eita gave the other a jaunty wave, inwardly pleased with the lucky break. “It was no trouble at all, my dear kohai.”

As Eita had predicted, about a week later the news spread that number five had finally been captured. It had happened during a chase, it was rumored, right in the heart of Iwa territory. Apparently she had been unable to keep up with the others and they’d had to escape without her. 

(Upon passing the boy in the hallway, Eita had given Susumu a slow look, but said nothing.)

Danzo, of course, was furious and once again did his berating-the-squad spiel. No one else understood why he cared, as the secret of Tobirama’s two heirs was one well kept, but Eita wasn’t surprised by this point. He only hoped the brat’s luck would run out for once in her goddamned life and that she really would die this time.

---

 

He had a child a while later. Some bitch from Suna thought she could steal his genes and get away with it. Rumor had it that the Black Grizzly’s Shadow Gale technique was in fact a kekkei genkai, though this was of course false. (The Black Grizzly was some dumbass nickname for him, coined by the other nations who did not know what village Eita was from).
As it was, The Grizzly had entries on all bingo books of every nation, most of which were rather empty on information about him, listing that his allegiances were unknown, along with a ridiculous amount of money for anyone who could capture him dead or alive and flee on sight orders for all ninja with village affiliations. (Bounty haunters still occasionally tried to go after Eita, though all of their attempts had ended with the same outcome). In short, Eita, even if it was under a different designator, had become rather famous, and most villages were salivating after his genes, mistakenly confusing his Shadow Gale technique with a kekkei genkai. 

To be clear, it was obviously not. He knew it looked rather more intimidating (and quite different) from the Nara clan’s signature jutsu, but he still thought people were idiots for not figuring it out. His technique had a clear basis on the Nara jutsu he had learned at childhood, capitalising on his  wind nature chakra and the use of senjutsu to make the simple shadows his clan commanded much more formidable than the average product, but still. It hadn’t kept the bitch from trying.

There were others like her within Root. Normally, Danzo only ever bothered to recruit among men for combat soldiers, as they were often easier to control with matters of pride and honor as well as stronger, but the elder had created a branch devoted to kekkei genkai theft as well. The recruitment process ran differently, of course. Various women from all across the fire country were called to Root’s headquarters. Some of them voluptuous and sensual, others with a quiet beauty that was harder to notice, whilst some were simply plain-faced. Many of them were not kunoichi. Their only mission?

Get impregnated by strong shinobi from the other countries, preferably kekkei genkai carriers. 

Eita had always deemed the men who fell for such basic ploys idiots, which is why he could scarcely believe it when the same tactic worked on him. It had been with some side of the road prostitute. How should he have known that she was a trained kunoichi pretending to be one, a kunoichi who had not been at that place, in that time, by coincidence? A kunoichi that had been after him, specifically, after his genes and his strength.

The shame of being tricked hit him like a ton of bricks, and he devoted every last one of his energies to tracking the bitch. It took him a long time, and when, after six months he still hadn’t found the bitch, Danzo decided to make his life miserable by assigning Namikaze fucking Minato to help, of all people. It soon turned out that this may have been an informed decision after all, for Namikaze was a master of the art of following paper trails. He even had false personas that resided within the other hidden villages, which made the casual interrogation of their shinobi almost a cake walk. Especially since Shibuimaru’s jutsu were quite useful for torture, though Namikaze kept him from employing this particular brand of persuasion most of the time. 

After dealing with the recruits for all these years, random sand nin that hadn’t even made jonin were simple enough to crack. And so, it was that after many months of intermittent searching, three and a half since number five’s capture, they had finally found the woman who had dared defile him. His fury was not a thing of legend in vain and she would soon find out why. He stepped forward, eyes intent on her.

“Wait, don’t!” Namikaze screamed from behind him. “She’s carrying a child!”

Eita hadn’t cared. He had ripped through the woman like the north wind, her screams intermingling with those of the prematurely born babe, his child.

He had gotten almost high on it, lost in the feeling of finally attaining his long-sought revenge, but before he could realize what had happened, Namikaze had ripped the baby from his hands.

“What are you doing, Tsutsui?” he had asked coldly, stopping in his tracks, as both of them stood over the woman’s cooling corpse. Their sandals squelched over the blood as NamikaE adjusted his stance, Eita’s shadows coiling around him in ever-smaller spirals.

Namikaze held the babe away from the shadows’ reach. “Are you planning on – killing – him?” he asked. It was apparently male.

“That was the idea, yes,” Eita said impatiently.

“But he’s your child .”

Eita stepped forward and stared down at the pink bundle. It was covered in blood. Belatedly, both himself and Namikaze realized that the umbilical cord was choking it; its face was blue. Eita swiped at it with his kunai and Namikaze tensed, but relaxed once he saw that all that had been cut was the chord.

“You’re right, he is my child,” said Eita with a nod. The babe wasn’t the same as the bitch it had come from. “We should take him back to Danzo-sama. He will make the boy into a strong warrior.”

“Are you suggesting for Root to raise a baby ?” Namikaze asked aghast.

“I suppose that would be a hassle.” Eita muttered. He thought for a while. Maybe he could leave it with his brother then. If they needed more manpower, he could just go back and take the child to Danzo once it was a little older. Decision made, he clasped the baby and took off back toward the village, not even sparing a glance to its dead mother.

“Aren’t you going to name him?” Namikaze insisted from where he was running behind him.

Eita shrugged. It was autumn. He liked the leaves in autumn, and the baby had been born right at dawn.

“Akiha,” he decided blandly.

Upon arrival at the Nara estate, he taped a sticky note over the bare forehead of the child. He pondered whether writing anything but the name would be required. In the end, he went with:

‘ Good morning, little brother. His name is Akiha [kanji for autumn leaf and dawn]. I may come back for him in a few years, but if he becomes too much of a hassle, you can feel free to drop him off at the orphanage as I will still be able to find him.’ Remembering his manners, he added: ‘ Have a nice day.’

The child was thus parked on his brother’s doorstep. Eita finished scrawling the note and wiped some of the blood off the newborn’s forehead with his spit so that the note would stick.

“Won’t you even clean him?” asked Namikaze with a tone of disgust.

Yes, Eita found the babe rather revolting as well. “I suppose it’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it? If I don’t, the smell of gore might wake the neighbors.”

He used the spare water from his canteen to wipe the baby clean and his shadow tendril to silence it. Namikaze watched on in silence, his expression inscrutable.

---

“Hey, Eita-san,” Namikaze flagged him down about a week later.

“What is it, Tsutsui?” he asked with a scowl. He still hated Namikaze, and though the latest mission had forced him to spend much time with the blonde, this hadn’t changed.

“Well, I know you’ve kinda been itching to have a go at Iwa’s front lines, haven’t you?” Namikaze asked happily, as if they were pals.

Eita crossed his arms, then actually processed the question and did a double take. Have a go at Iwa’s front lines? Of course he fucking wanted to, – he could take at least ten dozens of those small fry guard chunin no problem – but of course Danzo had said that a frontal attack would be too risky.

“Well, guess what?” Namikaze continued excitedly, noticing his expression. “I know that Danzo-sama’s not big on the whole ‘pincer formation’ idea, but – I managed to convince hokage-sama to approve a large-scale operation in enemy territory.”

“No kidding?” Eita asked, somewhat startled.

“None. You see, there’s this hot shot from Iwa – we think he’s gonna be visiting Igarashi village in a week’s time. It’s pretty far in, but I have a plan on how to get there. The hokage approved my expedition. Our aim is technically to kill the guy, but I figure he’ll thank us if we rough the area up while we’re at it.”

Eita’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Well…” Namikaze smiled angelically. “I know Danzo-sama wouldn’t approve of it, but I figured I could use a hand. Are you in?”

“I want to see the mission scroll.”

Namikaze hadn’t been lying; the incursion into the depths of Iwa territory was a legit mission with the hokage’s seal of approval. Even Eita knew that, though the thought of going thrilled him, the mission wasn’t a very good idea. First off: he didn’t trust Namikaze as far as he could throw him. But on the other hand, Namikaze had to have done some serious convincing to get the hokage to approve it… this was a once in a war chance.

“I will go,” he told Namikaze. “But I’m taking my guys with me.” He paused, straightening to his full height so he could stare Namikaze down. “Try anything, blondie, and you’re dead .”

Namikaze shot him a guileless smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And so it was decided that Eita would get some of his trustiest folks and they’d join Namikaze’s team at Iwa, without telling Danzo about it. Not many Root members would be willing to go against Danzo’s orders so blatantly, but it’d be worth it. He was certain that some of the oldest members, who hadn’t been as brainwashed, would gladly go along with him to have some fun. Charca had agreed to come along with him, for instance, and the boy had promised to bring his squad along as well as Susumu’s. Those two, Eita trusted.

He only wished he could catch a good night’s rest for once, then the whole thing would be perfect. Alas, this was impossible to him, nightmares of red eyes haunting him for the few scant minutes that he did close his eyes. There was little he could do about it though, but oh how he wished he could wring that Shisui brat’s neck.

The day of the expedition came and Eita ditched the lame courier mission he was in to join the fray. He was sure Danzo would thank him later. When his team made it to Igarashi Village, he was greeted by absolute chaos and devastation. The entire village was up in flames and there seemed to be no survivors on Iwa’s part.

“Did you get the hot-shot?” Eita asked, slowing down from his sprint to perch next to Namikaze. His team came to a stop next to them a few seconds afterward.

The blonde nodded. “We did…” He turned to grin at the rest of the Root agents. “You guys missed all the fun. We’re already finished here.”

“You mean we’ve come all this way for nothing?” One of the agents complained.

“Yeah, that run was no joke.”

Namikaze tossed them his water canteen. “Here, have a drink and stay out of my hair.” He gave them a conspiratorial look. “If I get things my way, you’ll be seeing some action still.”

Eita’s team grumbled even as Namikaze turned toward the rest of the jubilant Konoha nin. “Guys, I have sent a clone up ahead and the resistance awaiting us is minimal! What say you we go there and give those Iwa scum what they deserve? We’ve already come so far – let’s finish this with a bang!”

The rest of the team applauded his decision, as did Eita and his men, and so they all moved to continue their incursion into enemy territory. Eita looked around, a little wary. Charca, the coward, seemed to have bailed on them. Well, no matter. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that Namikaze’s estimate had been wrong. As they neared a building at the top of a mountain, a sudden, shrill alarm filled the silence and bastions of Iwa nin emerged from it, lurching toward them with battle cries. Eita glanced at Namikaze, suddenly alarmed, though the man’s expression was unreadable. Like a blur, the blonde suddenly took off toward the descending army, his hiraishin kunai flying ahead, and one after the other the enemies began to fall. Eita did his part in fighting them as well, but all eyes, even his, were on Namikaze. He had never seen anything like it. In a sheer three minutes, the sunny blonde’s body count was close to reaching over fifty and going strong. The eeriest part of it was, if he hadn’t been standing in a battlefield, anyone could have assumed Namikaze was a guest at a tea party. Not a single speck of blood littered his uniform – no dirt, no grime – nothing. Eita was a long-range fighter and yet already covered in gore, but this guy–

He spotted Namikaze tackling yet another opponent. Instead of using a katana, as most did during the war, he used his hands. One moment his opponent was alive, the next Namikaze would have snapped their neck and moved on, his kills clean, quick, and silent. The blonde used the occasional senbon too, sometimes kunai to parry incoming attacks and explosions or an odd, blue energy ball attack if he was surrounded , but no matter how much anyone tried to chase after the yellow flash which Namikaze left behind in his furious charge, no opponent managed to injure him. Somehow, as the blonde advanced, decimating enemy after enemy, the Konoha troops found themselves scaling the mountain on top of which the mysterious building stood, until finally they were fighting right next to it.

It was then, in the middle of the chaos, that Eita saw Namikaze make five shadow clones and run into the building, leaving a single clone behind. He understood immediately, in that very instant, that this had been the blonde’s aim from the very beginning. Whatever was in that building – Namikaze had mobilized all of them just to get it.

Without thought Eita gave chase, leaving the battlefield behind in order to stumble into the eerie structure atop the mountain. Whatever Namikaze was after, he would get it first. As he ran, picking corridors at random, his footsteps pounding, he realized where he was – a prison. People that looked like corpses shouted at him to please help, please free them, please put them out of this misery, please – mercy .

He paid them no mind. It was then, as he rounded a corner, that he ran straight into number five.

Number fucking five.

She was supposed to be dead – Susumu’s squad had left her behind, either injured, poisoned or sealed – in enemy territory – so how? How had she survived again ? Yes, the answer was obvious: she had to have been captured and imprisoned by Iwa nin. Clearly she’d taken advantage of the guards leaving to assist with the battle just now in order to worm her way out of the cell. Still, she looked half dead, had obviously been tortured – he could finish her off now. This was his chance. But then the worm crawled back out and he almost fell to his knees in pain.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see; all that existed was that thing . And he couldn’t kill number five, no matter how much he wanted to. His chakra spiked with anger and it was then that Namikaze appeared, rounding the corner to stand in front of him. He noticed number five retreating so she stood a ways behind Namikaze and his anger flared up. Namikaze and number five had gotten closer lately. What did that mean? Had Namikaze known she’d be in this prison? Had he been duped?

That was it. Namikaze was a goner. Eita stood up, shadows flaring around him – but just like that time all those years ago, back when he’d tried to blame all the arson on Namikaze in front of the hokage, this time too, Namikaze struck first. Before Eita knew what was happening, four clones surrounded him on all sides. Namikaze himself still stood protectively before number five.

“Stay back,” Eita heard him say to the girl.

Next second, their battle had begun. Without warning, Eita slung his shadows forward like the tentacles of a giant squid, trying to dispel as many of the clones as possible. But all the renditions of Namikaze dodged and the real one replied by summoning his signature blue ball of light in the palm of his hand. The blue light acted as a repellent of his shadows, but also as a spear at the same time. Eita had seen how Namikaze could fight and wasted no time in entering Sage Mode. Namikaze followed suit.

What followed next was a fight of apocalyptic proportions. They leveled half the building, breaking walls and parts of the roof. Most prisoners were escaping around them, but all that existed was this fight, this moment. Killing Namikaze.

Eita’s shadows were excellent defenders, perfect for launching counter strikes the moment an enemy attempted to penetrate those defenses. Namikaze’s hiraishin meant that he was constantly attacking, from every angle, exploiting every possibility, and this, in a way, was the best defense he could have had. The blue ball of light acted like an overpowered drill, and Eita knew that with a single hit from it, he would be a goner. Namikaze’s style of fighting had greatly changed, since that first time they’d fought and leveled a training ground. Back then he had relied on explosions almost exclusively, good at fuinjutsu but nothing else. Even then he had been an extremely dangerous opponent. Now the explosions were just an afterthought, for he was human kryptonite.

The most dangerous thing about him was his speed. He would flit about like yellow lightning, and plant seals just as fast with his bare hands. Eita was forced to shrug his armor off because of a seal that was planted on it, then his vest, then his mess shirt… until finally his skin was bare… exposing the marks of his Senjutsu… shadows coiling around him, more protective than ever – and yet even then, Namikaze managed to mark him in the back once again. One last time.

Suddenly the blond was right on top of him – as in riding on his back– and then all of his chakra was gone – Eita’s shadows went limp – Namikaze had placed a fucking chakra drainage seal on him – but how could he have done so so quickly?

Eita screamed and thrashed, but it was too late, the blonde’s hands had coiled around his neck like a noose and wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t get oxygen – he attempted to use his chakra to kill the bastard – he didn’t understand what was going on yet he needed oxygen ! – it was to no avail, Namikaze’s hands kept pressing around his windpipe – his chakra wouldn’t cooperate; black spots filled his vision – he passed out.

When Eita woke up again he estimated that, judging by the state of his injuries, only a few minutes had passed since – wait a second! He wanted to bolt up straight, to shout, but there was a weight on his chest, his hands and body pinned firmly to the… sand? He opened his eyes, only to stare at the clear blue depths of Namikaze’s.

“Recognize this place, Eita-san?” the man asked.

He glanced around. They were in a desert. A few paces behind them stood the half-dead-looking number five. She was watching them with huge eyes. What the fuck was this?

“Well, you should,” Namikaze said with a soft cadence. “Río, refresh his memory, please?”

The girl opened her mouth, then closed it and continued staring at him with widened eyes. Finally, Eita recovered his senses and recoiled, trying to free himself, to reach for his shadows – but the seal upon his chakra was still in place. 

“What the fuck, Namikaze?! What is wrong with you? What are you doing with that freak–!”

“I suppose I will have to remind you then.” It was like the blonde hadn’t even heard him.

Eita balled his fists and tried to shake him off. “You – you traitorous scum! You made that entire thing up! There was never a big shot, was there? You lied!”

Namikaze took his right hand. Had both their palms not been as sweaty, the gesture could have been considered romantic. “I did.”

Then he broke Eita’s fingers, one by one. Eita screamed and screamed and almost bit his tongue in the process.

“Bastard! Bastard! I’ll kill you!”

“No. I don’t think you will.” Namikaze took his left hand then.

Crack .

Slow but steady, like he had thought about how he would do this for a long time, the blonde moved to grab his leg next. “Did you know that the femur is the most painful bone anyone can break, Eita-san?” He sounded the same as when he inquired over that mission report that had been misfiled a while back… polite… unobtrusive… Eita almost burst with rage.

“Son of a–”

Crack .

The pain was out of this world.

“This is just a precaution, you see. Río-chan told me she had her hands broken too after she was captured when you left her behind, so it’s only fair.”

“No! No! What are you doing, you freak! Stop it! ”

The left femur came next. Eita’s pain was drowned out by the sheer betrayal and fury he felt in that moment. “Danzo will – AAAHHH – he will know! Mark my words, you sick fuck!”

“Will he though?” Namikaze asked, looming over him. “You just took your squad and left without telling a superior… right in the middle of a mission… like a traitor.” He cocked his head. “And traitors should be punished, isn’t that your prerogative? Besides, all your little friends are dead already. Your actions killed them.”

In that moment, Eita remembered the bastard passing a canteen around his squad members with sudden clarity …only moments before the slaughter at the mountain had begun.

No one would come for him.

“BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU! YOU POISONED YOUR OWN TEAMMATES! I KNEW YOU HAD AN AGENDA!”

He began kicking and thrashing and bucking wildly but it was to no use, Namikaze didn’t let go, his fingers like steel, and began tying Eita up. A moment later, the man pressed him against a large cactus, its spikes cutting into the skin of his back, and then his broken hands and legs were tied to the desert plant next. He had been freed of his armor and shirt, so he had no layers to stop the sweltering sun from pressing upon his skin. A part of being such a strong warrior was that one rarely got hit… it had been a long, long time since Eita had been in so much pain.

He glanced away from Namikaze and at number five. The odious child still hadn’t said anything and was watching them both with even wider eyes. He thought about saying something to her but couldn’t think of what.

Seemingly satisfied, Namikaze stepped back so that he was next to her and they both regarded him.

“Minato-san…?” she asked quietly.

The blonde gave her one of his nice guy smiles, even though his hands were still stained with blood. “We can talk later. Let’s get you to a medic for now.” 

It was only then that it began to sink in that this was really happening. He would die, right here, right now. At that bastard’s hands.

He watched, wide-eyed as number five nodded slowly.

“Wait,” he called hoarsely. “Wait.”

Number five turned to stare at him with those large, unsettling green-blue eyes of hers.

“I – I am important. I am important to the war effort!” he choked. “To Konoha! Lives depend on me! K-killing me would be selfish!”

“You have only yourself to thank for your death,” Namikaze bit out coldly. It was clear to Eita that that bastard wouldn’t listen – but the girl… the girl…

“Río!” he snapped. “You would have never survived if it wasn’t for me! I am the one who gave you the clear so that you could go on missions! I watched over you! I am the one who left you alive in the desert! I could have killed you but I didn’t! I left you alive! You learned how to survive thanks to me! You owe everything to me!”

There was a long silence. He could see that Namikaze was shaking, though he kept quiet.

“Stop lying to yourself!” he snarled. “I made you!”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Namikaze interrupted sharply. 

Eita ignored him, pouncing on the girl’s silence. “ Río!” he screamed at her, unleashing all of his killing intent even without chakra. “Kill me and someone else will have to take my place in the hardest missions – someone you care about! You will have killed all your friends again, like that time!

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” the girl screamed.

The pallid, starved-looking runt sounded just as hoarse as him as they shouted over each other. His throat hurt. He knew screaming it raw in a desert was not a good idea but he couldn’t stop himself… 

“Río-chan,” Namikaze cut in calmly, too calmly, and they both went silent as one. “Enough.”

The wind rushed by.

“Let’s go home,” Namikaze offered, softer now.

“But – but we can’t leave him here,” the girl protested shakily.

“Yes, yes we can,” murmured the blonde. “I have long since prepared the seal on this cactus so that his chakra may be concealed from any sensors. Without food or water and in this sun, he has a day left. A day to think about everything he has done. Two, perhaps, if he is unlucky.”

Eita was momentarily shocked into silence. How long had Namikaze been planning this for?

The blond man turned to level him with a glacial look. “You know, you were the first shinobi I met. So kind, giving me directions to the Academy. I liked you, in the beginning.”

Eita stared at him hatefully. “Well, I didn’t.”

Namikaze smiled. “I know.”

“You’re a demon, Namikaze,” he spat angrily. “Lying and lying and lying and playing charades. Do you even have a real face or are you just a hole with a mask plastered over it?”

The blonde’s baby blues darkened into somber pools of an ocean abyss, and in that moment they were the most haunting thing he’d ever seen. Namikaze’s grip around number five’s shoulder tightened, his lips thinning.

“Eita-san?” was all he said, quiet and polite. “I sincerely hope the vultures keep you company. It was about time, don’t you think?”

His response was screamed into the empty desert.

 

---

He had thought that was it, but he was wrong. By the next day, he’d been delirious with fever, likely very close to death already, when Charca had found him. His throat had been raw and he could barely speak, but he had managed to whisper the teen’s name.

“H-how d’you find me?” Eita had choked out.

“I have my ways,” the redhead stated coolly. With these words, Charca stepped closer to the barrier Namikaze had raised around his cactus and began to work on the seal. A few minutes later, he was inside. The teen sat down cross-legged on the sand and watched Eita silently.

Eita remembered suddenly how he had asked Charca to join him on the incursion into Iwa, and the teen had promised he would, but then bailed at the last minute. Susumu, whom he’d promised to bring along, hadn’t been there either.

“You knew, didn’t you? That this was Namikaze’s trap.”

“Of course I did,” said the other, wine red eyes gleaming. “Really, senpai, they say you used to be so viciously intelligent. What happened? Trusting Namikaze, trusting me … you must be losing your touch.”

“ Shut up,” Eita growled. “I’ll tell you what happened! It’s that fucking Uchiha. He – he ruined me. To my old self, this fight would have been a cake walk! Namikaze only got lucky, that’s it.”

“He ruined you? Who’re we talking about here?” Charca asked lazily. “Fugaku? Hotaru? Manjiro?”

“Fuck no. You think a small fry like that could beat me?” Eita snarled. “No. It’s not them. It’s that piece of shit. Shisui Uchiha.”

Charca blinked at him, then burst out laughing. “What? You can’t be serious? The little kid Río brought back? The ‘sunscreen instead of sunshin’ boy?”

“That kid may have the personality of a bloody toerag, but fuck – those eyes – they’re – they’re the most dangerous thing you’ll ever come across, Charca,” Eira hissed. “He can twist your fucking mind like a meatgrinder with one glance. You think I haven’t dreamt of killing him before? But I can’t. I fucking can’t because he’s inside of me. My thoughts. Like some worm. I haven’t slept in years and it’s all his fault. He killed me. Years ago. At age seven .”

It was silent for a while. Charca’s eyes were wide. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he questioned at length.

“Do I fucking look like I have time to be shitting around?” Eita spat. “Now get me out, Charca. Get me out.”

Charca’s eyebrows rose. “I think you misunderstand, senpai.”

“What?”

“I’m not here to rescue you.” Charca leaned back to contemplate his limp form. “I just wanted to see you off.”

“Stop joking around,” Eita hissed weakly.

“I’m not.”

“Then let me free!” Eita rasped. “I’ll kill you if you don’t! I will!”

“No, you won’t,” Charca rebuked simply. “Today has proven it. Minato-san has won and now you are nothing.”

“That’s not–”

“Senpai. I won’t let you out, no matter what you tell me, so save your breath.”

“Why are you doing this?” Eita hissed. “I’m your ally. Why are you letting me die?”

“You’re not,” Charca informed him bluntly. He was reminded of their first conversation. Back then, Eita remembered that shivering boy and the hate and fear in his voice. It had been a long time since then, however, and he had forgotten until now.

“You hate me,” he realized.

“I do.”

“Stop. You’re making a mistake, Charca,” Eita snapped. “I could be your friend.”

“There is no way you will ever be my friend.”

“Your ally, then. I’m a good ally. I’m strong, I’m–”

“Only those weaker than me can be my allies,” Charca interrupted coldly. “Come now, senpai, don’t tell me you haven’t thought of seizing control of Root for yourself at least once. You are my competition, not my ally.”

“Seizing control? Is that what you want?” Eita choked out.

There was no reply.

“You really think you can take on Danzo and the hokage?” he tried again. “On your own? Don’t make me laugh! You need my help!”

“Frankly, I don’t think I would have to do much of anything,” Charca said dismissively. “The sandaime’s fear of making the wrong choices renders him too quick to judge and too slow to act, whereas Danzo’s cowardice makes his mind erratic and easy to trap by fear. All I would have to do is take advantage of those traits.”

“And Namikaze?”

The redhead frowned, head cocked. “What about him?”

“There’s no way you’ll ever beat Namikaze, Charca. No way in hell. You need me.”

“Who says I want to?” Charca asked, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Did you ever wonder about why none of your teammates noticed that Namikaze’s canteen was poisoned?” Eita’s eyes widened and Charca grinned. “Oh, yes, I know about that. After all, it was me who distilled the venom. A bitch to make, such a powerful reactant that was also odorless and tasteless, on such short notice, but I managed.”

With these words, Charca stood up. His dark red hair looked like blood over a pale face, framed by a black happuri which gave the whole an ominous feel. Eita remembered the boy dressed in the black bear carcass all those years ago and berated himself. He should have known from the very moment he’d laid eyes on that savage that this was how it would end.

“Goodbye now, senpai,” the teen said monotonously. With this, he pulled out a sword that gleamed brightly in the desert light.

Eita, tired though he was, still did a double take. “Is that the nidaime’s raijin blade?”

“You have a good eye.” Charca glanced up at him, his lips splitting into a wolfish grin. “It is.”

“Bastard…” How had he gotten that, without anyone being the wiser? If Danzo ever found out… but he wouldn’t, would he? He was never going to see that old man again. In that moment, as he stared death in the eye, preparing for the blade to hit, Eita remembered something from a long time ago, something that had been buried deep in his brain, something he had heard back at the funeral service for his old man.

His eyes flickered up to meet Charca’s. He had never thought about it, but now… he bit his lip. “Wait!”

“What is it?” Charca asked, eyes narrowed.

---

“ He died a samurai’s death… I think he would have wanted you to know.”

“ A samurai’s death?”

“ Harakiri.”

---

“Will you use the harakiri on me?” Eita asked lowly.

A long silence.

“The drawn out suicide ritual,” Charca stated, brows raised. “Why should I? You deserve no honor, senpai.”

No, Eita did not. Shibuimaru closed his eyes. “Make it quick, then.”

Notes:

I'm not sure anyone is going to like this chapter. It is all around an unpleasant read and for many, who seemed to have liked Shibuimaru's character, it will prbably have ruined it. I would apologize, but... well. It's simply what my brain came up with. I know it's pretty dark but the shinobi world definitely has dark sides.
I enjoyed writing the duality of Danzo. He's in charge of the hellhole but is still shown to have some morals, whereas Eita has no morals whatsoever and still wanted to make the more morally sound choice of returning Rio.

As for Minato (or Namikaze, as i'm almost tempted to write after using that desingator for so long) -- the more keen readers will have realized that the true reason why he joined root has not been explained yet. Sorry. I guess i promised answers but didn't deliver them. (Sighs)

Anyway. I am currently extremely busy and for the first time since pretty much when I began to write this story, i do not have a full chapter in storage. Only the conclussion of the rio tobirama fight (which now that you know they're related, is somewhat more dramatic). This basically means that i'm not sure when the next update will be. I do read and cherish every review (including the few i have not yet replied to) but as i mentioned, right now i am super busy. Hopefully, ill be able to write soon.

Chapter 33: Rasna

Summary:

recap:
-the ANBU and Root troops storm the hokage tower, where Hiruzen was battling Orochimaru
-Root agent(Yann) uses a jutsu which allows a dead person to possess his body (they need the help of a really strong shinobi in order to support the tower, so they let him get possessed by guy called Eita)
-They manage to free the clan heads, who were inside a fuinjutsu barrier. Kakashi vs Minato, Río vs Tobirama
-It turns out Eita is Shikaku’s brother and hates Minato
-Minato, Kakashi and InoShikaCho team up to take Eita down (he’s gone cray-cray), and Inoichi and Shikaku in the process end up seeing his memories & discover that Minato can be one scare son of a-
-Sakura has managed to save the Academy children, finds out that all the civilians are trapped inside the secret passages within the hokage mountain
-She uses a chakra pattern Itachi had taught her to warn the ANBU, and in doing so gets questioned about how she learned it, and the whole Tetsuya secret comes out
-Talk with Kabuto reveals that Tetsuya is Itachi Uchiha, he kidnaps her and kills all the ANBU reinforcements. Sakura hurts him, must now face Rasna, who it turns out was an enemy nin

Notes:

Yo! It’s been a while. New chapter’s up, folks! I wanted it to be on time to wish ya’ll a happy new year, so I focused on getting this out first rather than responding to reviews.

Also: More Than Enemies has fan art now!! I cannot post it here as I currently don’t have my laptop (and I need my laptop to get the image source link) but once I do I will upload the precious fanart!! If you wanna see it, by all means go check it out it’s on my dash in tumblr! Thank you to the wonderful paltaxiox and lilietea for the awesome art. I am absolutely in love with it and you can count on me to brag to you about it again soon (once I can actually upload it here)

Haruno Sakura had thought for a long time that she knew the meaning of the word ‘hardship’. As a child, she had been bullied relentlessly by her peers, both physically and psychologically. She had been made to believe that she was less – inferior, somehow – for being born to a civilian couple, for being shy and introverted, for having a large forehead, even for her gender. It was a million little things that had compounded into hunched shoulders and lowered eyes, into nights of crying silently in the bathroom while she brushed her teeth and glared at her reflection in the mirror.

 

She’d always believed that these experiences had made her stronger: it was the bullies she’d hated so much who had allowed her to meet Ino, it was their teasing words that had made her want to prove them wrong all the more, that had made her work harder than any other civilian child. Even one of the worst choices she’d made in her life – breaking off her friendship with Ino – had resulted in her growing stronger (working harder to prove that she had as much of a right to become a ninja as Ino did, as much of a right to date Sasuke) and eventually wiser once she’d realized what a mistake it had been.

 

But when she actually did become a ninja, did make it to the genin squad of her dreams, did beat Ino at the Academy graduation exam… only then did Sakura realize that all of her past hardship and grievances were nothing next to the suffering her teammates had gone through. She had thought her bullying was bad, but next to Naruto’s it was insignificant, and yet she’d never realized how bad he had it until she’d started to look . She’d thought her frequent fights with her parents about wanting to be a shinobi were bad, but at least she had parents. Every other member of team seven did not. All three of them were completely alone in the world. And then she’d realized something almost even worse: none of them had a right to choose what they wanted to do in their lives. Kakashi had all but told her that he hated his job but was too old and too important to be able to quit, and Naruto and Sasuke were both… well. Sakura wasn’t so sure about Sasuke, but at least Naruto, she was quite certain, was a ward of the hokage. He wouldn’t be allowed to become a civilian if he suddenly had a change of heart – no one would pay for any tuition, for his food and clothes, for a place to live, heck, for anything at all if Naruto didn’t become a ninja. And as the last sharingan user in Konoha, she seriously doubted Sasuke would be allowed to quit either.

 

In short: she was the only member of team seven who had any real freedom, who had a family, who had a choice. She’d been afforded a relatively normal childhood, no matter how unlucky she might have deemed herself during it. Now she realized that even her greatest concerns, which she’d thought had made her special, only served to underline her averageness . Haruno Sakura really was a nobody.

 

She should have made the most of it. She should have befriended Naruto when they were younger – invited him over for dinner with her parents, maybe, taught him some table manners so that the other kids (and her past self) wouldn’t have had so many reasons to pick on him. She should’ve stopped obsessing about getting Sasuke to choose her over Ino and spent that time striking up a true friendship with him instead… and if he didn’t welcome the attention, which would likely have been the case, then perhaps she should have just left him be. No more bothering him. No more creepy fawning. And maybe she even could have, offered to walk Kakashi-sensei’s dogs for him, restocked his fridge between missions, or gotten her mom to make him a ridiculous-looking shirt with ‘pervert’ stamped backwards on the front, so that Kakashi would only expose himself while standing in front of a mirror…

If only.

 

Now she would likely never get to do any of those things, because she was about to die. She had wasted the time that had been given to her. She had fucking thrown it down the drain. And now what? Now she would get to stare kindly old Yuna-oba down in her last few seconds, fully cognizant of the fact that instead of teaching Naruto table manners, she had spent copious days shouting at him about picking his nose and being disgusting; that instead of bettering herself to earn Ino’s respect, she had pined after Sasuke like a fanatic and called Ino rude names; that she’d never done a damn thing for Kakashi’s fridge or his fashion choices at all.

 

Always thought I was so smart, but look at me now…

Sakura stared unblinkingly at the explosives on each side of the room and gritted her teeth. Only a few minutes ago she had still thought she’d be able to take Yuna no problem. The old woman was – well – an old woman. Sakura had figured that if she’d been able to beat five guard chunin that not even Iruka-sensei had been able to defeat, she’d manage to down an old woman, but what she hadn’t taken into account was that the five chunin she’d defeated hadn’t been expecting her approach; while they had been fully aware they would encounter resistance whilst facing Iruka, by the time Sakura had arrived on the scene they’d assumed the most dangerous part was already over. She had preyed on the element of surprise, and only now did she realize how much of a difference that had made – because fighting Yuna was nothing like fighting those chunin. 

It had taken her getting thrown painfully to the floor at least five times to realize that Yuna wasn’t your ordinary elderly citizen. An opponent that was fully expecting you to attack wasn’t nearly as easy to defeat as a distracted one, like the chunin had been. It had taken the old woman pointing at the explosives distributed around the room and asking Sakura whether she wanted her to detonate them prematurely after her fifth attempted kick that had her realizing that she absolutely did not have the upper hand in this situation.

Sakura had moved onto coercion then – something she now realized should have been her first approach. Unfortunately, all of her attempts to convince the woman to change sides had ended the same: with Yuna repeating to her whether she would like to see a pretty fire? If she didn’t, Sakura was to shut her mouth and stop causing trouble.

 

Naturally, Sakura hadn’t complied with these demands and had run back into the darkened corridors of the hokage mountain, hoping against all hope that Yuna would not follow her, that she would be able to regroup and think of some plan – something! – but she’d been wrong. Before long the woman had caught up. Elderly sticen her arse, Yuna was fast. Sakura hadn’t known old people could be that quick, but she did now. She also knew now what a harrowing experience it was to have a blade cut right into your neck. One wrong move and Yuna would kill her right where she was, pinned into place by the old woman’s iron grip.

 

“Cryin’ now, girlie?”

 

It was the first she had spoken that wasn’t a direct threat. Sakura supposed there was no need to verbalize it anymore. Not with the kunai currently hovering over her neck.

 

“I’m not crying,” she spat, even though she totally was. The cause was not the intense fear she felt at that moment, as one may have thought. It was all those insidious thoughts racing through her mind, her past regrets, all the things she wished she’d done differently. Sakura was only thirteen, how could she have made so many mistakes already?

 

Perhaps her biggest regret, she was starting to believe, was Uchiha Itachi. Meeting him. Talking to him. Laughing with him. Falling for his act. If she survived, she would never be able to look Kakashi-sensei in the eye again, much less Sasuke – Sasuke who didn’t even have eyes to avoid looking into, not anymore. And was that her fault? She’d been with Itachi at the time of Sasuke losing his eyes. Had Itachi taken them? Gods, this was all so fucked up.

 

“Not cryin’, she says.” Yuna’s voice drew her back to the present. “Look, I’ll make you a deal, Sakura.” 

The use of her name startled her.

“What deal?”

“Ya leave; don’t turn back, and in exchange I don’t hurt ya. How’s tha’?”

 

“Alright,” said Sakura. She did so too quickly, however.

 

“Ah, try again. I can see in yer eyes that yer plannin’ on callin’ for help. No. If we do this, I put ya in a genjutsu for the duration of this shit show, girlie. Once it’s over, ye’ll wake up – safe ‘n sound, I can promise ya that much.”

 

“But with dead parents.”

 

There was a pause. “Look, what’d ya want me to say, girlie? This ain’t a picture book, you oughta have known that the moment ye signed up to be a ninja. Yer parents shoulda known the moment they decided to live in a ninja village. I can only make ye a deal to save you, and that’s already more than I should.”

 

“How can you do this to me?” Sakura demanded. “Haven’t we been friends these past few years, Yuna? Don’t you realize I’d never accept!?”

 

“I hoped ya would, girlie. I hoped ya would.”

 

The pressure of the kunai against her jugular increased. Sakura realized what it meant and her heart began to beat even more erratically.

 

“Please, no! Wait! Just spare my parents and I’ll say yes, Yuna!”

 

“No can do, girl. I’m already breaking a ton ‘a rules right now, talking to ya. And that’s ‘cause we’re alone. Yer parents ain’t in an empty room, that’s for damn sure.”

 

“But–”

 

“All I can do for ya at this point is killin’ yeh before yer folks, if ya insist on not seeing ‘em die. That’s it.”

 

“No! Wait! Wait, please!” Sakura cried. She searched desperately for some way to postpone the inevitable, some way to keep Yuna from finishing the slashing motion she’d already begun a moment ago. Blood trickled down her neck.

 

“What? Ya accept my offer?”

 

“No,” Sakura spat. “I would rather die than watch my parents get killed.”

 

“Right-o then.” The pressure increased.

 

“No! I just – wait! I just have one question,” Sakura stammered, voice hitched to a whisper. “Please. Just answer one question for me. I swear I’m not trying to convince you of anything anymore. But please just tell me: why? Why would you betray us like this? Betray Konoha? Why, Yuna?!”

 

“I ain’t originally from yer precious village. And my name ain’t Yuna either. Yuna doesn’t exist, girl. It’s Rasna. Always has been, always will be.”

 

“I don’t believe that. I can’t,” Sakura whispered, tears trickling down her nose. “I can’t believe all these years living here, in Konoha, as Yuna , have meant nothing to you! Even if your name is Rasna – fine! But it’s Yuna too! If someone were to call it ‘Yuna’ right now, I know you’d turn! And I know that if it was me in your shoes, I would have grown to love Konoha! I would have grown to love being Yuna! Even if I was originally from the hidden sand, even if I was sent in as a spy–”

 

“Konoha’s a little bitch ,” Rasna cut her off, voice clipped. “I won’t fight for ‘em. I refuse, girl. I know ya think that they’re all that and a bag a’ chips, but all they are is full of shit .”

“So what?! It’s not like Sand is all that great either!”

“I ain’t here for those sand faggots.”

“Wh-what? But then, it’s for–”

No. Imposible.

“Oto? You mean you serve Orochimaru ?!”

“I serve Orochimaru,” Rasna confirmed.

“But how? Why? Why would you–? That creep–”

Slash!

“ Don’t call him that, girl. ”

Again, blood trickled down her neck. Rasna’s hand had trembled with her outburst, making Sakura believe that this was it. She swallowed. When nothing happened, she was able to breathe again.

“A-alright. I won’t call him a creep… but why would you… I mean… Orochimaru ?”

Rasna didn’t immediately answer.

“Do ye really wanna know, Sakura? The story of how I grew to respect that man sure ain’t the kinda talk yer sensei would approve of.”

 

Sakura couldn’t reconcile what she was hearing with what she knew of the snake-faced creep. She couldn’t understand Yuna – no, Rasna’s belief that Orochimaru was worth fighting for – worth more than Konoha was. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to understand, all she wanted was not to die. She had to keep Rasna talking. It was irrational. Sakura knew no one was coming for her. It would be plain stupid to expect help to arrive at this point, but the longer she kept the old woman busy, the longer until Rasna killed her. 

 

---

Inoichi wanted to vomit. Next to him, Shikaku looked like his brain simply wouldn’t compute – and Inoichi couldn’t fault him. They were both still processing the memories they’d just seen. He would have been in shock too, finding out that one’s brother was such a psychopath wasn’t something most people went through.

The Yamanaka couldn’t help but shiver again as he recalled the instance of Eita’s death. He couldn’t help but think back to the rest of what he had gleaned from the monster’s memories as well – of all the questions that had plagued his mind, of the fact that these were the only recollections he now had of watching his own daughter grow up. 

He wanted to give that poor, defenseless child a hug so badly… but he was certain now that she wouldn’t have let him – not as that jaded nine-year-old and certainly not as a twenty-six-year-old woman. What memories he had seen of her early years described a textbook case of severe trauma. Inoue had seemed to more or less have placed her trust in Namikaze Minato by the end of them, but Inoichi doubted that she could’ve ever trusted the man fully, knowing what he now did now about how absolutely terrifying the yondaime could be when it suited him. 

It also seemed like Inoue had known something about Minato that even Eita hadn’t, something that had made her inclined to distrust the blonde initially, though she eventually appeared to have changed her opinion of him. It was mind blowing, the yondaime’s ability of getting people to like him. Be that as it may, Namikaze was a shark, albeit a ‘good’ one, and as a child who had grown up surrounded by sharks like him, his daughter was unlikely to fully trust anyone now, least of all him . 

Inoichi had seen the memory in which Inoue’s mind had been wiped. He himself was the standard go-to-man when the hokage needed somebody’s memory ‘taken care of’, so it was entirely possible that his presence alone would be triggering for her, likely reminding his dear daughter, if subconsciously, of her own experience with mind wipers. Just thinking about it, the way she had fought that Urushi man so hard… it gave him chills. Inoichi knew how painful resistance to mind erasing could be… his poor child… it absolutely broke his heart to have seen that – but also warmed it, in a way. He was glad she had fought so hard for her family. But she’d inevitably lost, that much was obvious, and now she really didn’t know who he was… would likely accuse him of making things up in claiming to be her father, that it was some tactic to get to her… he wouldn’t blame her if she had trust issues now. And yet it broke his heart in a million pieces. Even if she was now an adult, he wanted to be there for her so badly…

It was then that, out of nowhere, his daughter suddenly appeared in front of him. He’d have thought he was hallucinating if not for the bewildered looks both Choza and Shikaku gave her. Inoue. Right in front of him!

A few minutes earlier

Río’s situation was dire. Not only did the nidaime have the ability to teleport, but he was also good at everything she was, only better. A lot better.  She should have really seen this coming, shouldn’t she, what with Minato-san’s insistence that they might be related. Obviously Rio knew that this wasn’t the case,  Uh she still felt rather chagrined when the man sprang yet another death trap jutsu on her (a puddle which tore through anything that touched it), this time arguably even worse than the jormundjutsu from before. As such, she ended up using the other Suna and Oto jonin fighting in the area as crutches to jump on or substitute for so she wouldn’t have to touch the murderous puddle. No doubt Minato-san would label this new activity as playing the floor is lava . At least whilst Tobirama chased her, he was slaughtering a good deal of the enemy forces in his mad pursuit, so there was that. Once again every Suna and Oto jonin in the vicinity had begun to scream and run away from them, meaning she had to chase behind them if she wanted to have something to substitute with. Meaning more and scrambling, screaming and running for their lives on the part of the jonin.

How was she supposed to beat Tobirama like this? She was exhausted by now; had acquired more than one injury in their mad game of ‘tag’, and  desperately needed to rest, if only for a short minute. With Tobirama bearing down on her, her chances of taking a break were slim to none. Unless…?

“Hey, nidaime-sama, how are you able to sense people hiding their chakra, anyway?”

It was worth a shot, right?

The ex-hokage blinked at her. To her surprise, he actually answered. “As you know, those hiding their chakra do so by sending out an equal amount of yin chakra than yang chakra all across their bodies, thus neutralizing it. I am able to sense that ‘neutral chakra’.”

Oh. So that’s how  the ice cream mixing technique Minato-san had told her about actually worked. Well… the description gave her an idea. Before Minato-san had taught her ‘the proper’ way of concealing her chakra, she had picked up a method, mostly by necessity, which sort of… well, she couldn’t really explain how it worked other than it felt like needing to answer nature’s call very urgently, only with chakra. Minato had said not to use it since it was very strenuous on the user’s chakra network or whatnot, but… it was still what she always ended up resorting to when absolute stealth was required. So far, the technique had never failed her… so maybe it would unbalance the nidaime?

She quickly summoned her beavers and made a clone, both things to work as a distraction and used a smoke bomb to hide her exit, all whilst doing the feculence-withholding technique. To her surprise, Tobirama actually didn’t react to it at all, focusing on continuing to fight the clone and her summons. Hopefully he wasn't faking it. Hopefully they’d keep him distracted long enough that she could hide. She was busy looking for a good spot to recover in when she saw it: her father, standing only a few meters away from Yann. No, from Eita . Her blood froze in her veins.

It was probably a bad idea to waste the precious few seconds her clone and summons were buying her in doing anything other than recovering her strength, but she needed to warn her father away from Eita. And so it was that she found herself rushing to his side. The Nara and her father were standing really close to the murderous psychopath that was her former senpai, who was– er… passed out on the floor? The Akimichi was looming over him, as though prepared to strike him down if he so much as twitched. 

That… couldn’t be right. Had they… beaten Eita? Río stared at the trio incredulously. What the heck. Well… she had seen Minato-san fighting with Eita earlier, so that was probably how… he must also be remarkably weaker in Yann’s body than he had been in his own. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still one of the most dangerous shinobi in history. He might wake up and go ballistic on her father or something. 

Rio coughed, trying to get  Inoichi’s attention. “Er… excuse me?” 

Team Ino-Shika-Cho all turned toward her with alarm (right, she was still suppressing her chakra), kunai poised to strike and intense expressions on her faces.  

“Woah, woah, uh, chill.” Rio waved awkwardly. 

The three men collectively stopped dead in their tracks. Silence ensued.

“Er, I’m on your side,” Rio said lamely. Well, they would probably disagree with that assessment seeing as she was Root, but whatever. She nodded in Eita’s direction. “Um. A-anyway… just  don’t go near that guy… he might be out for blood if he wakes up. Actually, just scratch the might. He’s always out for blood. He’s probably even out for blood while he sleeps, not that he usually sleeps.. I’m pretty sure he was an insomniac. Funny, seeing as how he is a Nara.”

She paused, realizing that she was effectively rambling in the middle of a battlefield. At her father. The blonde’s eyes were wide, so wide in fact they might as well be dinner plates. Had she said something that odd?

Río got nervous. It’s not like he can recognize me. I know I don’t behave like most Root agents, but he’s  got, like, no reason to suspect that this would be me ; I mean he doesn’t even know I stalk him sometimes! Or does he? As far as I can tell he only saw me that time I accidentally walked into a meeting he was attending while escorting Kakashi, and I’m wearing Yann’s mask, so he shouldn’t be able to recognize me– wait. I’m not wearing Yann’s mask anymore. Oh fuck. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!

Rio froze in her tracks, all words leaving her. She wanted to facepalm so hard at herself that she could just die from the blow and not have to face her life again.

Predictably, Inoichi was still staring at her, apparently just as much at a loss of words as she was. The Nara man she had impersonated a few times was also gawking at her, weirdly too, as if she were wearing a bright pink flamingo hat. The Akimichi, thankfully, seemed as confused about the fuss as she was. Rio wanted to reach out with her mind to read her father’s surface thoughts, but what if… what if his thoughts were… disgusted or something? Now he knew she was Root. Or he would, and soon.

“Uh…” Río found herself at a loss. In the end, it was probably best to be quick since she didn’t have much time before the nidaime got rid of her clone. “S-so. Um. Just saying.” She pointed at Eita again, in case they hadn’t gotten the memo. “He’s kinda… touched in the head.” Was that warning too forward? She was terrible at normal interactions. Her father was still staring at her. Río got nervous. “Ah… haha. Anyway, see you later! I mean not ! Not later! Just – just see you around – as in – your ‘standard goodbye’ kind of around, without any actual around !”

Oh, crap. Why was she so bad at this?!

“Bye now!” And with these words, Rio sprinted off before she could make even more of a moron out of herself; her father definitely didn’t need to know that she absolutely did intend to stalk– erm– see him later.

Thus she sunshined the hell out of there (whilst still concealing her chakra) and sped towards some random hiding place to cower from the nidaime in, not sticking around for her father’s reaction. She could admit it if only to herself – she had totally fled the situation like a coward. Stupid Rio. She thought she was done being a coward, but apparently not, when it came down to her true family.

Somehow, luck was on her side. The nidaime hadn’t immediately realized that she’d substituted herself with an overpowered shadow clone, meaning she still had enough time to actually hide from him. She’d cut it very close though. The interaction with her father had lasted maybe a minute, and it had taken her another five seconds to hide. Barely three seconds later, her clone popped, decapitated, apparently having outlasted all of her summons. Damn it. Tobirama wasn’t fucking around. But at least the guy was now glancing around with a raised brow, apparently surprised at the fact that her clone was –well– a clone. Small victories.

Hopefully the guy not sensing her trick thus far meant that her feculence-withholding-like chakra concealment technique worked on him, or at least it had before he’d known she had a different approach to hiding her chakra  up her sleeve. Now that he was actively looking for her, though, she wasn’t so sure how long her respite would last. With this in mind, Río hastily worked to catch her breath, patch an injury and pop a soldier pill as she nervously  pondered her next move. Talking with her father had given her added strength, she couldn’t explain why since they’d barely exchanged a word (in fact he had just stared at her with wide eyes), but she felt refreshed now; more motivated to win. But how to pull such a thing off? 

So far the nidaime’s only weaknesses seemed to be his hearing and – maybe…? He seemed like a very uppity type, just like Danzo. And though the elder was now used to Río’s usual brand of bluntness, her no-filter type of statements had managed to fluster him in the past a few times. What if the nidaime was the same? She knew his type. The serious ones were always easier to embarrass. What if she could find something off-key to say that would throw him off his game?

The idea had its merit (in her opinion), but she had no idea what to say to embarrass a guy  like that in the first place. Tobirama was from a different time, after all. They probably had a different sense of decorum in the past… Well, she supposed that, in an absolute pinch, she could always resort to blurting out a poop joke or something, but no. There was no way the nidaime would ever fall for that.

She had noticed, however, that Tobirama’s armor was keeping him from reaching the area of his back well, so perhaps that was the way to go? But no. Getting into his space with taijutsu was too risky since he could plant a seal on her the moment she miscalculated and then it would all be over. No, what she needed was a way to counter those stupid teleporting tags of his… that was the main priority.

He was using them to move all across the place much faster than her and the blasted things gave him an amazing capacity to adapt. Minato’s jutsu was slightly faster, but he was forced to pause to pick up his special kunai after a while. He must only have a few of them. Tobirama, however, never seemed to run out. It was like he had an unending supply of those things, but for all she’d tried to look, she never managed to find out where he kept getting all those hiraishin kunai from, nor did he mention it in his thoughts. Sheesh! It wasn’t like his weapon pouches were particularly large, either. Short of keeping the special kunai down his pants, she’d run out of ideas! 

He’d need to be carrying something bulky, like a gourd or a sack to keep all of those kunai in, (his pants were baggy but not that baggy) but wait a second…! The fur coat. Of course! The freaking fur coat! His fashionista side made so much sense now! He had to be using that ridiculously large fur coat slung around his neck for something – that something being to store his special kunai! Now she just needed to find a way to take it from him… right .  

Her plotting was interrupted when the man himself stepped into her line of sight. 

“Well, that was quick,” Río muttered with resignation. She’d been suppressing her chakra to the very brink and they were in a room filled with powerhouses and continuous use of jutsu. That he had found her at all was already a miracle, but that he had done it so quickly… well. Let’s just say that he was the first person to ever achieve this, and it proved beyond the shadow of a doubt what she’d already known: her chances of escape were zero. Either she won or she died.

“Hmp,” grumbled the nidaime, wasting no time in pelting her with blows. “There you are, woman.”

This time he’d switched from a punch-based taijutsu style to one more centered around kicks. If she could grab his leg or something… but no, she’d rather not chance it. The man’s kicks were way too strong to try without risking her wrist. Her hands were essential to her, so she settled for dodging.

“I am curious,” the nidaime said suddenly. “Who taught you that technique.”

Why did he phrase all of his questions like statements?

“What technique.” She mimicked his gruff tone to his face, trying to embarrass him, but he didn’t even seem to notice what she was doing.

“The one you just used. Obviously.” 

“Bit of a long story.”

“We have time,” the nidaime insisted.

“Maybe you do. I’m kinda not a big fan of playing the floor is lava, so I would appreciate it if we could cut this short.”

“Is this technique something you learnt from one of Danzo’s acquaintances.”

“No.” Rio replied. “I made it up. Man.”

He still didn’t so much as twitch. Did everyone in his time period talk like that or something? Why wasn’t he getting annoyed at her?

“How did you come up with it.”

“It just came to me, you understand,” Rio uttered in her best low rumble. Despite her efforts, Tobirama still appeared oblivious to the fact that she was mimicking him. 

“It just ‘came’ to you,” he repeated blankly.

“So it did.” She was beginning to realize that she would really need to up the ante if she wanted to fluster this guy. 

“That’s impossible,” Tobirama droned. “Creating a jutsu requires planning. It doesn’t just ‘come to you’.”

“Well, maybe jutsus don’t like you, because it sure ‘came to me’.”

“What, did the kami pour his divine knowledge into your ear.” 

“In fact, yes,” Rio declared solemnly. “All I have to do is hold it in like a compact pellet.”

“Hold what in.”

“I wonder.”

“Will you cease giving me vague answers and state plainly how your jutsu works!”

Well, here goes nothing…

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But it’s basically like wanting to take a dump really badly. A chakra dump.”

At that, Tobirama issued some kind of choking noise and momentarily faltered. Finally. She’d done it– she’d caught him off guard! With a poop reference, but still. Who knew it would be eight grader humor that would finally manage it.

The split second of inattention was all she’d needed. Putting in a burst of speed, she vaulted over him, taking advantage of his lack of reach in the back area and grasped the fur coat, tugging with her whole strength. Faster than lightning he turned, but Río had known she’d get less than a second to act and managed to jump back and out of the way in the nick of time.

Fuck, what now? If the fur coat truly contained his tags then he could just appear right where she was – she hadn’t thought that far! A new idea occurred to her and on a whim she stuck an explosion tag to the fur coat and volleyed it into the air along with a smoke bomb to cover her ploy. Just as she’d predicted, Tobirama looked like he was about to teleport to where his fur coat was in order to reclaim his hiraishin kunai– but then he stopped in his tracks. 

No! Why did he stop? Her plan had been so good, too!

‘I don’t like that look in her eye,’ Tobirama mused, eyes narrowed. 

The look in her eye? Was he serious?

A second later, the fur coat exploded, bursting into a million pieces and filling the area with the smell of burnt paper whilst sending special kunai flying all across the room. 

‘Hmp. I knew she was scheming something. Damn this woman.’

“Looks like I unveiled the secrets of your fashionista side, huh,” Rio commented even as turned tail and ran for her life.

“Yes. Good job,” offered Tobirama sarcastically, already engaged in rushing after her. “Now if only you managed to put a scratch on me we’d be getting somewhere.”

The absolute bastard .

Couldn’t he mince his words a little? “You know, I’ll be sure to learn the edo tensei so I can summon you if I ever need a cheerleader!” Rio snapped.

Tobirama gave her a dour look. ‘Hmp. Danzo and I will need to have some words about this woman’s disrespectful behavior.’

“I have seen toddlers with more decorum than you. And I  am no cheerleader, woman!“

“But you’d look so good with pompoms,” Rio bit out. “They’d even go well with your fluffy fur coat.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” ‘Someone please find me another opponent.’

Ah, yes. That would be appreciated. Maybe if she terrorised the nidaime with more poop jokes he’d flee. Rio gave him her best cheesy (annoying as fuck) smile and widened her eyes.

“You think I’m witty ?”

Tobirama’s eyebrow twitched. 

‘I really, really hope no one is using enhanced chakra hearing to listen to us.’

Tobirama’s replying look was so murderous that Rio quickly backtracked:

“Ah, but you could always just look for another opponent? I wouldn’t be offended or anything.”

‘And deprive myself from the pleasure of wringing her neck? Not happening.’

The nidaime smiled at her. It was a very terrifying expression. “Good. Try.” He pulled yet another special kunai out from an undisclosed location. “How fortuitous, however, that I still have a dozen of these left.”

Uh-oh. She’d really dug her own grave with this, hadn’t she?

Back to running it was.

---

“Sensei?!” Kakashi exclaimed. “You were Root ?”

Minato was silent, expression revealing nothing.

Kakashi, by contrast, felt like the entire rug of the world had been pulled out from under his feet. Everything he knew had been put into question. Sensei? In Root? How could he? Was he joking? He himself had once nearly been seduced by Danzo’s influence, back when he was younger and so very disillusioned with the system, but even then he had regained enough sense to realize it was best to stay clear from Danzo.

“Sensei?” he pressed again. He needed to know, needed to hear it straight from Minato’s lips to believe it.

“…I did join,” the blond man finally confessed, and there was a sort-of lull in their battle, where everything seemed to stop. “I thought you would have found out by now.”

“No. No you didn’t.” This couldn’t be happening. “Stop lying!”

“You really haven’t…?” Minato’s eyes met his, guilt-ridden and haunted. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way, without the proper explanations… but to answer you, yes. I joined. Shortly after we met.”

All those times… all those times he’d come back from a mission with shadows beneath his eyes and a lag in his gait, a slump to his shoulders…? Had that been…?

“But how?” Kakashi demanded. “Why? Why would you do that? You’re not like that. You’d never do that.”

Minato chuckled mirthlessly. “I think I know best what I’m like, Kakashi. And what Root is like. But rest assured, I had my reasons.”

“Reasons? What reasons? What could Danzo have offered you that–”

“Kakashi – it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Then what is it?”

“I cannot talk about this where we might be overheard.”

“Like hell you can’t, sensei,” Kakashi bit back coldly.

“It’s true. I would explain it to you but–”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Kakashi cut in. “Are you sealed? Hold on, no, you can’t be sealed – Charca rose to power after you died–”

“Wait, what?” Minato shot him a wide-eyed look. “Charca did what? ”

“I think he’s dead now,” Kakashi hedged. “But I’m not sure and it would really help if you could shed some light into things.”

“Not right now,” Minato snapped back with finality, and for all that they were now the same age, his tone brooked absolutely no argument. His face set into a dark  glower. “And I need you to tell me what you meant by Charca rising to power.”

Kakashi gritted his teeth and kept parrying blows from the blonde, countering them even as he fumed silently.

“Oh? I need to tell you what I know but you can’t do the same?”

“Kakashi, listen to me,” Minato implored, likely sensing the storm brewing beneath the surface. “I know you want to ask me some questions and have them answered, but right now is not the moment. Danzo is in this room, Hiruzen is, Tobirama is and I don’t know how much any of them know. I’m not risking having them find something out that they shouldn’t.”

“Look,” Kakashi snapped back. “Knowing about Root would help me out a lot–”

“I am sure someone else can tell you if it’s really that important – look, you even know Río, just ask her!”

“I can’t ask her ,” Kakashi hissed. 

“Why ever not? You seemed to be getting along just fine earlier–”

“Sensei. You really lack the situational context here,” Kakashi snapped. “I tried to kill her less than an hour ago.”

There was a moment where Minato just… faltered. Right in the middle of trying to stab him with a kunai.

“What?” The man’s eyes bugged out. “Why on earth – you can’t do that!”

Interesting. So his opinion of her was apparently favorable… that was good.

“I didn’t want to – it was an order from the hokage,” Kakashi explained hurriedly. “It’s the reason why I need to know what’s going on with Root. I want to take them down, I want to get Río out, but to do that I need to know more.” 

Minato was quiet for a moment. He sounded almost emotional when he said: “Kakashi, you really are my student.”

“Gee, thanks. I wasn’t sure.”

Minato snorted. “Look. I get why you want answers, but I’m struggling to understand why you want them from me. Didn’t you say you had a friend who was Root? Why not ask him? Who is he, anyway?”

“He went by Kinoue.”

“Mokuton boy?” Minato mused. “Well, he certainly wasn’t involved in the more important plots, but he likely has a good enough grasp on the organization–” 

“He already told me everything he knows,” Kakashi interrupted. “But – he never mentioned that you were in Root.” In fact, how could Tenzo have skipped something so vital?

“I doubt he knew. I always wore a mask and I barely spent any time in HQ – but listen, Kakashi, I can tell from your questions that for some reason you haven’t looked at it yet – and don’t worry, I’m not mad, I get that you must have been busy – but all of my experience within Root is inside my journal, including some of my notes on the hiraishin. If you really want to take down Danzo, the chapters in the middle are  exactly what you need.”

“Wait, wait… what?” Kakashi questioned, backing up. “You are telling me you kept a journal?” Was he insane? Keeping bloody receipts of anything bought during an ANBU mission was considered illegal… even if it was a receipt for toilet paper or a water bottle… and Minato-sensei had kept an entire journal about Root? 

“I mean, of course?” Minato uttered confusedly. “Don’t you remember?”

 Kakashi stared blankly at him. 

“You mean you don’t?” Minato asked after a moment.

Had he missed something? Did Minato give him a journal at some point that he’d forgotten to read? Kakashi stared at his own sensei with shock and slight horror, but as much as he wrecked his brain, nothing came up. “You – you gave me your journal?” Kakashi questioned slightly hysterically. “But I – I don’t remember you giving me anything like that.”

“No, not in person but I –  it’s – I left it to you,” Minato replied, a strange sort of vulnerability in his gaze. 

The answer returned his confidence to him. He could say with absolute certainty that Minato had never left him anything. 

“You didn’t leave me anything, never mind a journal, sensei.”

“I – what? Of course I did! Didn’t anyone read my will to you?”

“You had a will? ” 

“Of course I had a will!”

“But sandaime-sama said you didn’t!” 

“Bogus!” snapped Minato. “I’d prepared for any case scenario for Naruto’s birth – don’t you think I would have planned for my own death at the very least ?”

Um. No?

But never mind that. Kakashi stared at his erstwhile sensei in shock. “Are you telling me – that someone tampered with your will?”

Minato’s responding look was dead serious. “Kakashi, this is… I don’t even know what to say. But yes. Yes, most definitely.”

Kakashi swallowed. If someone who wasn’t him had gotten his hands on that journal… that someone would have acquired a huge amount of information on Root, not to mention they would have denied that information to him. How many people could Kakashi have helped if he’d gotten that journal when he should have? How much trauma could he have spared, say, Tenzo? Or Río? Or anyone else who’d had to go through Root? The fourth hokage’s reputation was no joke. With an entire journal worth of proof, could Root have been taken down?

 

“Sensei. Is there anyone… anyone who could have done it?” Kakashi asked urgently. “Can you think of anyone who might have taken that journal?” Had Hiruzen been the one to tamper with Minato’s will? He didn’t dare to ask out loud.

“No. No one even knew my journal existed, Kakashi,” Minato replied sombrely. “Not even Kushina.”

“But then, what did you say about it in your will?”

“I only alluded to it. I said I kept a ‘scrapbook’ about my life, but that was it. Not to mention, I had other failsafes in place to keep it from being found prematurely.”

“Failsafes?”

“Indeed,” the blonde replied slowly. “For one, the bloody thing was hidden. Whenever I wanted to write in it, I used the hiraishin to teleport to the hiding spot. I was always very careful about that. Also, I didn’t leave you the journal itself, but a coded note that specified where to look in order to unearth it.”

Kakashi’s eyes widened. “And what was the code?”

“Just this teensy cipher of my own making,” Minato retorted, as if making up one’s own entire cipher were a perfectly normal occurrence. 

Used to his sensei’s special brand of genius, Kakashi didn’t even bat an eyelash. “And the key?”

“I hid the key where I knew no one would think to look. Anyone who might have stolen the note I left for you wouldn’t be able to read it without the cipher key.”

“Wait… if you only left me the note… then who has it? Who’s got the key?” Kakashi asked slowly. “You must have left it to someone too, right?”

Minato frowned. “You know, it’s funny you ask that. It should have gone to Río. I left it to her.”

“ Río?” She’d known sensei that well? But wait… what did that mean? Was Río able to collect her share of Minato’s will, or was she unaware of its existence as he had been? Did she have the key?

Kakashi’s thoughts halted when  he realized that the blonde had started using jutsu that would make more noise so as to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. Was he that nervous about being eavesdropped on?

“So…” he began, lowering his voice. “Is there any reason you left the key to a secret that could potentially destroy Root to someone who works for Root?”

“Ah. Well,” Minato shrugged, “…Rio, to my knowledge didn’t work for Root so much as against it.” He paused. “On the year leading up to my death, that changed… but…” He frowned. “Never mind. Regardless, she has no idea about the key‘s existence or that what I had left her contained it. I thought it was safer that way.”

Kakashi frowned. So much information, none of it making any particular sense. Rio has worked against Root? Well, Tenzo had mentioned she was a bit of a rebel in the corp, but he’d made it sound like she still went along with missions… but more importantly:

“How do you give someone a key to a complicated cipher without them being aware of it?” Kakashi questioned drily. Not that he was doubting Minato’s ability to bullshit his way through anything, but still.

“Hm. Well, I suppose I’d need to explain some other things first,” Minato offered. “You see… there’s something I never told you about me before, Kakashi. I wasn’t born in Konoha.”

Kakashi’s eyes widened. What? But he was the hokage! 

He recalled Sakura’s parents, both civilians. Her family must have immigrated into Konoha at some point, Minato’s was probably the same, since, while Namikaze had been a very rich clan, they’d been civilian.

“Um. Are you from the countryside then?” Kakashi ventured. He honestly didn’t know where Sensei was going with this…

Minato grimaced. Then he lowered his voice, covering his mouth subtly, if strategically, with his palm and then he dropped the bomb.

“Actually… I’m from Kiri.”

For the upteenth time that day, Kakashi felt the urge to just… sit down for a minute. Or ten.

Kiri? The hidden mist? Was he fucking serious ? When the nidaime had alluded to Minato being an immigrant and them meeting at some point, Kakashi had just assumed he’d come from elsewhere in Fire Country. But Kiri? Shit . He’d never in a million years would have guessed that. He barely had time to process this massive revelation before Minato moved on:

“There was a very popular comic book series my older brother used to read to me when we were young. Being a bookworm, I practically devoured it after he… left, even though the target audience were older kids… then I got expatriated because of the war and lost sight of the books. Obviously, the comic book series was never imported into the other villages, as it contained no small amount of anti-Konoha propaganda disguised in the form of a cult villain group the series revolved around. I’m almost certain the leader was based on the nidaime, actually.

“The point is, finding any of those books anywhere in Fire Country today would likely be a nightmare even for someone who knew about them. However, I had a vested interest. I remembered them. They were one of the few things I could tangibly recover that belonged to my early childhood, and so, when I saw the books for sale during a mission in Kiri many years later, I bought the entire series against my better judgement. I kept them as I ascended through the ranks. I kept them after joining Root. I kept them even after being nominated for the hokage position.”

“And no one ever found out,” Kakashi breathed, completely enthralled. It wasn’t a question. Holly crap. Sensi had risked his entire career for some books.

“No. No one ever found them… no one but Río. She tends to have an almost preternatural sense for poking her nose into things she shouldn’t… not unlike you. And so here we are. Rio, who was barely literate at the time,  found the books and suddenly developed an interest in  learning how to read – she wanted to read the wartime Kiri propaganda books. Most likely, she sensed me freak out after she’d unearthed them, nothing can draw children in quite like the forbidden. Either way, in the end I just ran with it and took the chance to finally teach her how to read.”

Of course sensei would have seen a kid finding forbidden literature as a teaching opportunity.

“You… let her read the books,” Kakashi said blankly. “All of them?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, and let me guess. You then hid the key to the cipher in those books too.” 

“Bingo,” Minato confirmed cheerily. “I left them to Río in my will –  with different covers, obviously, that made the books appear like a Konoha-approved children book series.”

“Sounds like a big  effort, to replace all the covers like that. Why didn’t you just hide the key somewhere a little less… heretic?” Kakashi questioned delicately. If anyone had seen those books in Minato’s will… wouldn’t they have found out he was from Kiri? Replacing the covers was well and good, but still.

“To be fair, I did consider hiding the cipher’s key within sensei’s erotic novels,” Minato said, with a tint of humor. “Unfortunately, they were too popular for it to be a safe option. Also, Jiraiya and I were close and many knew that. It was safer to use the old Kiri comic books. Being for children, no potential cryptographer after my journal would have any interest in reading them recreationally. Unlike porn.” Minato pouted. 

Kakashi very pointedly did not say anything to that. “So… did you specify anywhere that the key was hidden inside those books?”

“No. I only left instructions for Río to leave Root and show you my books, figuring that the two of you would piece the cipher together. Obviously, she did neither of those things.”

“It might’ve helped if you’d underlined how important it was,” Kakashi snarked. He couldn’t believe it. “I don’t think anyone in their right mind would want to barge in on a stranger to show them some forbidden childrens’ literature out of the blue.”

“Um. I mean… I did write it as my dying request so…”

Kakashi sighed. Damn it. Everything would be so much easier if Rio had just done what Minato had apparently asked of her. But of course, his life could never be easy. He pursed his lips in thought. “So… does that mean she has your jornal?” Could she have stolen the note left to Kakashi and used the key to find the journal? Did Rio tamper with Sensei’s will?

“No.” Minato frowned. “Well, I don’t know for sure, obviously, as I was dead. But I don’t think she’d do that. At least, I can’t think of any possible motive.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”

So the one who had tampered with sensei’s will could technically   be Río, but was most likely someone else. Someone had messed with Minato’s will… someone with an agenda and a lot of resources, if they’d been able to pull tampering like that off. Someone had done all that to get their hands on Minato-sensei’s journal, but the question was – who? And more importantly: had they managed it?

---

Uzumaki Touka was kidnapped from her home at the age of fourteen. On that day, she bore witness to her mother’s brutal murder, and watched her home disappear in the distance as the men carried her away. They took her to a desert, and then to a prison in that desert. They tortured her. They figured out she knew fuinjutsu early on and wanted her to reveal all she knew about the craft, but Touka hadn’t wanted to. Fuinjutsu was Mother’s lilting voice as she discussed a new seal with Father over dinner, it was the sealing competitions she and her sister Shigure had squabbled over, it was Itama-nii’s annoyed grunting when he didn’t get them, it was father leaning over some complicated-looking scroll, back when she was just a toddler sitting on his lap, and his flicking her nose in annoyance whenever she’d made a game of comparing the squiggles to a dog or a pony. Fuinjutsu was hers . Hers to know about, hers to keep secret, and these men had no right to it. She refused to tell them anything. 

But the choice, it turned out, wasn’t hers to make. Toka had never received any ninja training, had never been taught how to restist torture resistance either, and a girl of fourteen could only hold out so long agaist the worst the bowels of Suna had to offer. They tore everything she knew out of her. They weren’t just fixated on fuinjutsu, the main focus of their questions was her father. She hadn’t known anything about his job – just that he was an important ninja – which had seemed to anger the captors. They had also asked her a lot of questions regarding safe houses or places her siblings might go to if they were in danger, which had given her hope that they were safe. She had not revealed anything on that front. The thought that the rest of her family was safe and sound was the only thing that kept her going most days.

When they were done torturing her and raping her, they stuck a beast inside her stomach. “Your new name is Rasna of the Shukaku,” they told her. “Mentions of any life that came before us will be punished .”

In the darkness of her cell, during the cold, cold nights while she lay curled into a ball, she would picture scenarios of Father bursting in suddenly, breaking the cell open and whisking her away back home, where Mother would still be magically alive and live in the house she’d been taken from, with her cozy kotatsu and her older siblings. It was just a pipe dream, she knew. Touka had always been a realist – Mother had called it pessimism, said she’d inherited it from Father – yet it was simply the truth. Father may be a chakra sensor, but her chakra was now drowned out by the monster’s within her. Father would never be able to pinpoint her location now: he would certainly know where the sand jinchuriki was, but not his own daughter. 

They kept her locked in for years – training her inside dark facilities and never letting her see the sunlight, never letting her talk to anyone her age, hold a conversation besides for ‘yes, sir’ and ‘sorry, sir’ and beat it into her head that she was the property of Sunagakure no Sato now. The guards had liked to taunt her a lot, which was the only reason she found out about Father’s death. She had not been aware he’d used to be Konoha’s hokage, but in hindsight it didn’t surprise her a bit. The men who had rejoiced in breaking the news to her that he had been ‘hunted down like the dog he was’. He would never come to rescue her now, little girl. They’d rejoiced in rubbing salt in the injury, and that was their mistake. Because they had created a monster with all their efforts, and in that moment, the monster had had enough. 

Rasna of the Shukaku snapped and decimated the entire facility, the dungeon guards, the other prisoners and everything in a ten mile radius, and then she’d fled into the cold desert night, had run until her feet couldn’t carry her anymore, past dunes and sand and more sand, for three nights and two days, without having anything to drink or eat. Eventually she had reached a lush forest, the first thing resembling home she’d seen in years and years, but the spell had been broken when some men in grey armor found her and immediately deemed her a threat (perhaps because she’d been covered head to toe in blood). 

Rasna had been too weak to defend herself by that point, utterly helpless as they’d dragged her leaden body to yet another dungeon. She’d told them she was Tobirama Senju’s daughter, screamed at them to let her go, she was their kage’s descendant, fuck you all! but none of them listened. Apparently, Father had told no one he had a family and some of these people knew him, so they thought she was just bullshitting them – and being very bad at it. Now, those who were supposed to be her saviors, father’s people, had thrown into Konoha’s own dungeon.

She managed to conceal her jinchuriki status from the interrogators by virtue of her sharply honed pain tolerance and fuinjutsu skills. If she hadn’t, she knew she would’ve been done for, but that didn’t mean she was out of the woods by any means: the second shinobi war still waged, and Suna and Konoha weren’t exactly allies. In an attempt to bargain for her life, Rasna had been forced to make a deal with Konoha to spy on Suna for them, and through some stroke of luck, since the Konoha nin had never heard of her (and she’d become rather proficient at lying through her teeth even under torture), in their threat evaluation of her, they had concluded she must be insignificant enough that they would benefit more from releasing her as a spy than keeping her in their dungeon. 

And so, she was shipped back to Suna, with a clear warning ringing in her head: any and all attempts at resistance would be punished under pain of death.  A man named Jiraiya was to be her contact and infiltrate the desert every once in a while to take reports from her. She hadn’t been too worried he would find out about her jinchuriki status, which turned out to be a grave mistake. For all that Jiraiya had seemed like all muscles and no brains, she had underestimated his intelligence. The white-haired sannin somehow found out she was a jinchuriki where everyone else at Konoha’s interrogation division had failed, which in other words made her someone he was under orders to kill, either immediately or indirectly by capturing her to have her bijuu extracted. 

Rasna had known this, and in her panic, had broken down crying in front of him and begged him not to tell Konoha. Jiraiya had sat down next to her, patted her on the back, and promised that he wouldn’t. Why? she’d asked him. Because sometimes I hate that I’m a part of this, he had replied. He had never specified what ‘this’ was, but assumed he’d been lying and that it was an act anyway. He would inform Konoha and they’d attempt to capture her or kill her, as revenge for hoodwinking them. She had lived in a constant state of fear in the month after her conversation with him, but when the sannin eventually returned to camp for another message drop-off and there were no signs of any would-be-kidnappings, Rasna had understood then that he had kept his word.

Not long afterward, the second shinobi war came to an end and both Suna and Konoha began to give her much more leeway: she was no longer as important to Konoha as a spy, and her ‘loyalty’ to Suna had been proven by her returning to them after ‘escaping’ from Konoha. The kazekage was now allowing her to go on missions, (under the assumption that no one knew she was the jinchuriki), and she was given some semblance of freedom (read: no longer kept in a dungeon).

One thing that didn’t change after the end of the war were Rasna’s meet-ups with Jiraiya. They weren’t so easy to time, with both of them on missions, but they managed to meet once a month or so. She suspected that he pitied her – that he knew, from having observed her at camp, how she was treated by many of her superiors like some sort of wild beast, and he felt some kind of responsibility to be her friend because of that. She’d hated that pity would be the deciding factor in their friendship, but she could never bring herself to tell him to stop meeting with her. 

It was inevitable then, due to their frequent reunions, that she eventually get introduced to his two teammates: the brilliant Senju Tsunade, who was actually Rasna’s cousin (though she of course didn’t know this), and the mysterious and prodigal Orochimaru. Rasna’s first impression of them was that she wanted to get closer to Tsunade and keep Orochimaru at a distance. 

Luckily for her, as one of the other strongest kunoichi of their era, Tsunade seemed to immediately like her, and they became fast friends. The blonde even taught her some of the medical jutsu she’d been developing “to keep her safe from scorpion bites while she spied on those sand rats” – an act of true friendship and trust. Tsunade hadn’t taught the new craft she was developing to anyone . Rasna had been so touched that she’d offered to share the secrets of fuinjutsu with Tsunade in turn.

She’d severely understated her knowledge about the art when she’d made the offer, but Tsunade was a smart cookie and immediately realized Rasna was more than just a skilled amateur. She’d remarked about this in front of Jiraiya and Orochimaru, and once the two had realized the scope of her ability, both had jumped on the chance to receive lessons as well. And, though she wasn’t close with Orochimaru, Rasna couldn’t very well deny him and Jiraiya since she was already teaching Tsunade.

Given the recent disappearance of Uzushio, Rasna had already suspected she’d been the last person alive, besides for Mito Uzumaki, who had had such an in-depth understanding of fuinjutsu, but it was still a shock to hear it from Orochimaru’s mouth one day. The attentive way in which he watched her set off alarm bells in her mind. Orochimaru evidently was attempting to gather intel about her. This had made her uncomfortable, so she’d resorted to the rather petty tactic of calling him names to his face. Later, Jiraiya had told her that this was a first, since most people apparently kissed the ground Orochimaru walked on, and apparently, the creepy weirdo seemed to like it when she called him names. She’d stopped after that. 

On her first fuinjutsu lesson, Rasna had emphasized to the three sannin that they must always respect the cardinal rule of fuinjutsu. There were certain things that went against all organical principles of nature and, though possible to accomplish, ought not to be done. Her father had beaten this rule into her head when she had resurrected the dead house cat in a fit of grief after it had passed away. He had of course given her the scolding of her life for poking around his research (though she’d gotten the impression he was secretly proud she’d understood it), but what had stuck with her most was the end of his lecture.

“Fuinjutsu relies on balance,” he had said, nodding toward the wilted patch of dead grass and trees she hadn’t noticed before, right over the area she’d made her array. “In order to obtain any one thing, you must give something of equal value away. Never deal in lives, Touka.” 

The severe way in which he had said the last part had given her pause – and the impression that he had attempted something similar to her house cat operation in the past – and that it had not ended well.

She had repeated this to all three of the sannin verbatim, emphasizing how important this rule was, and even going into the cat anecdote to illustrate how reviving the cat had killed an equal number of lives in the form of trees, and how the cat hadn’t been really alive anyway. Their reactions had been varied. Jiraiya’s she’d liked the most: he had simply accepted it and moved on. Tsunade and Orochimaru had, much to her dismay, appeared excited by her cat-resurrecting tale rather than horrified. It made a little more sense in Tsunade’s casem, as she was a medic, and her aim from the start had been to create a chakra-powered jutsu that would essentially make her immortal while activated. She had compromised by designing a formula that would trade a little bit of her own lifespan away in exchange, rather than someone else’s. 

Orochimaru, meanwhile, had had no such compunctions. He had been obsessed with becoming immortal, period, and the number of bodies he had to walk over to accomplish this appeared to leave him cold. Though he’d tried to hide the depth of his indifference from his teammates, he  couldn’t hide it from Rasna. She had refused to teach him after he’d covertly shown her the beginnings of a fuinjutsu formula to steal bodies one time, and had stopped talking to him altogether. Much could be gleaned from a person by looking at the way in which they practiced fuinjutsu, after all.  

Time passed. Rasna debated almost daily on telling Tsunade about her heritage and their being cousins, but would always remember how the Konoha ANBU had scoffed at her when she’d first told them, and was afraid Tsunde would deem her a liar if she did, so she never did say anything. Orochimaru eventually got the hint and stopped cornering her to ask her random questions, (but would still stare at her without blinking for the longest stretches of time when he thought she wasn’t looking). In an act of pettiness toward him, Rasna had continued teaching Jiraiya (and only him) fuinjutsu even after Tsunade had no more need for the lessons.

Then the third shinobi war had rolled around. Suna had been much more involved in this one than in the second. Rasna, now an ANBU captain, was sent on a staggering number of missions, which increased in difficulty with every success she reaped, until she thought she’d just keel over from exhaustion one day and never wake up again. When she brought these concerns to the kazekage, the man had acted sympathetic and told her the village appreciated her efforts, but didn’t lessen her workload even a notch. Nobody gave a shit about her, all they cared about was what she could accomplish for them. And then she was made to perform the ultimate sacrifice. They didn’t give her a choice in the matter, though to be frank she would have run for the hills if she’d known what was in store. 

In the middle of the battlefield, her entire team turned on her, and before she could register what they were doing, they’d broken her seal, effectively releasing the Shukaku – and killing her. At least, that’s what would have immediately happened if she hadn’t known medical ninjutsu, but even thanks to what Tsunade had taught her, she could tell she hadn’t much time left. Her only hope was that someone would find her. She had heard earlier that day that three sannin were in the area. Surely, if Jiraiya saw that Shukaku had broken free… she wasn’t sure if all three of them knew she was a jinchuriki, but Jiraiya definitely did. He would come for her, right?

And yet she waited, and waited, and edged ever closer to death, bleeding out on the sand as she watched the monster rampage above her, her life consigned to a country which had done nothing but enslave her. It was a bitter, bitter death, and in that moment, she realized Jiraiya had just used her to learn fuinjutsu. He wouldn't come, he wasn’t really her friend, no one would come. 

And then someone did. But it wasn’t Jiraiya.

 

“Orochimaru saved you!?” Sakura exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yes,” Rasna said. “He risked his life to save mine that day.”

“But – but he probably only did it because he wanted you to teach him more about fuinjutsu!” she argued. “Can’t you see? He’s just using you!”

“Using me? And what is so remarkable about that? People have been using each other since the beginning of time; it is the basis of every relationship.”

“That’s not true!”

“If it isn’t, then tell me: what do you call what Konoha is doing to you and all your little friends?” Rasna countered. 

“But–”

“I have been used my whole life,” she said with finality. “Used by every person who I came across. Every last one of them wanted something from me, so that’s hardly news, but Orochimaru was the only one prepared to risk his life for me, to jump into a situation of almost certain death back when he wasn’t even close to immortal.”

“But maybe the risk was worth the possible benefits–”

“No, Sakura. Orochimaru’s sensei was the third hokage and my father’s star student, Jiraiya was his best friend, and he was on good terms with Mito Uzumaki. He could have obtained my knowledge in other ways. He risked his life for me , and I will never forget that.”

---

 

Elsewhere, Shi-chan had made it to his summoner. He was lucky that Itachi was still within Fire Country, for even a terrific flier like himself had his limits. It had been roughly two hours since he’d taken off last, which was very good timing for him.

 

“Itachi-dono,” Shi-chan cawed loudly, heedless of the fact that his Akatsuki partner was there. “I bear urgent news, Itachi-dono!”

 

He didn’t wait for Itachi to ask him what the matter was. The moment Shi-chan felt the click of their minds connecting, he sent a barrage of impressions his way. Burning buildings, screaming children, Sakura summoning him and his kin as she rushed through a forest, the utter pandemonium he had encountered upon flying over the village, then an image of Sakura walking into the Academy, her shoulders tightly coiled,  and another one of her exiting the grim-looking building with her Yukata covered in blood. Finally, Shi-chan slowed down the assault of impressions to show Itachi the most important moment of all.  The reason he’d come all this way.

A chuckle. “Silly Sakura. That is not what I meant.”

“Why else would any powerful shinobi, an older one too, hang out with you?”

 

“W-well, I got the feeling he was really lonely, you know. And sick. He’s sick. And I don’t think he gets along with his family… so… I think maybe he really needed somebody to be there?”

 

“Sick. Vulnerable. Right . That’s what they all want you to think. It’s infiltration 101, really.”

“Didn’t you hear me?! He’s not a stranger, nor an infiltrator! We’re friends . And I’m not an idiot! I know I’m not imagining it!”

 

“And yet he has been teaching you things you shouldn’t know, things he shouldn’t know, such as ANBU’s secret – classified – code language, which he must have been aware might get you into trouble. Not a very typical friendship, now is it?”

 

“H-he just mentions random jutsu to me when they come up in conversation, that’s all! It’s no big deal, alright?”

“Oh, this is just rich! You have no idea, do you?”

 

“No idea? About what?”

 

“Does the name Uchiha Itachi say anything to you?” 

 

“Yes. Yes, I know of him, but so what?”

 

“Well, I dare say you don’t just know of him.”

Shi-chan showed Itachi the fear he had felt over the prospect of Sakura discovering his identity. He showed him the crippling anxiety from the moment the ANBU had knocked Sakura out, the general horror of it all. It wasn’t just the information Shi-chan transmitted but the almost overpowering emotions that came with it. Without filters, he channeled them into  Itachi’s mind at once, intent on not stopping until it echoed them, replicated them, absorbed them… stockpiled them.

 

Sending emotions over their bond was something Shi-chan never did. In fact, the  crows were the ones who absorbed Itachi’s more negative feelings so that he may not be as bogged down by them… but now, for the first time since Itachi had invented the hive mind jutsu, Shi-chan was doing the exact opposite. He knew it was a low blow, but he absolutely needed Itachi to go to Sakura. He could not chance his summoner refusing to do so for something as silly as keeping his cover. So what if it would cause trouble with the other humans? Kin came  first. Always. Sakura was kin. Shi-chan would not allow Itachi to stand by while she got hurt. 

“Itachi-san?” Kisame’s voice shook Itachi out of his reverie.

“Yes, Kisame?” he found his own lips moving of their own accord.

“What’d the bird want? Something urgent come up?”

“Well,” mused Itachi slowly. “That depends on how urgent you would label Konoha being razed to the ground.”

Did he just say that out loud? Oh, dear. 

He should have withheld the information, why had he spoken so thoughtlessly? Though – perhaps not. Perhaps telling Kisame about the invasion was the correct course of action. What would the ramifications be? He wasn’t sure. He needed to figure it out and pronto , only he couldn’t think straight. He needed to pause, to plan, to calculate the reactions of those around him, but to do that his mind had to be calm. First he would need to breathe, he would need to run through some calming exercises in order to center himself. However, he could not do so at present – not with Kisame breathing down his back. Kisame would definitely find it odd if Itachi suddenly started running through some yoga exercises. 

Itachi knew that he couldn’t let anything show, for it would jeopardize his position as a spy, he had to shove all of these feelings threatening to boil over down, but Shi-chan was refusing to help him on this front and suddenly he was forced to deal with them all on his own. This action alone  took up more concentration than he’d anticipated, and consequently his mind wasn’t cooperating as it should.

 

“Who’s doing the attacking?” Kisame asked after a moment of silence. Most assuredly, he had realized Itachi wouldn’t joke about such a serious matter.

 

“Sand and Oto,” Itachi supplied, his mind running through the countless images of destruction which Shi had been all too happy to provide.

 

“Oto, huh? Isn’t that the snake’s little band of misfits?”

 

A dark feeling uncurled within the depths of him. “Correct.”

If he got his hands on Orochimaru…

 

“Wanna pay the snake a visit?” 

 

Itachi almost jumped. Did something show on his face? How had Kisame known he wanted to ‘pay Orochimaru a visit’? Luckily, he didn’t immediately formulate a response (which would have surely revealed his bloodthirst), thus allowing Kisame to keep on talking:

“I know Sasori wanted to get his revenge on the bastard, but who knows where that snake’ll be by the time the news reach him, ne, Itachi-san? If we hurry, maybe we could still catch him.”

 

Kisame was not typically the type for mind games, but Itachi felt like he was currently playing a very elaborate one with him. “Kisame,” he said slowly, “are you suggesting we help Konoha?”

 

Kisame recoiled. “W-wait, no. That’s not it. I only figured… since Orochimaru is so slippery… but we don’t – I didn’t mean that. It’s just… since we’ve already completed our mission with barely any action, no thanks to you…”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Wha…?”

 

Kisame’s babble was making him nervous. He wanted so badly to go, it was wholly unfair to keep dangling the possibility in front of him like that.

 

“We will attempt to capture Orochimaru.” Itachi’s eyes narrowed. “Or kill him.”

 

“So… about helping Konoha… you don’t think Leader-sama would be mad if we somehow did, would you?”

 

Ping. An idea appeared in Itachi’s mind.

 

“We will wait until the massacre is over. Once Orochimaru makes his exit, we shall strike. Then he won’t be able to say we helped Konoha.”

 

While they waited, he would give Kisame the slip and make sure Sakura was safe from that kidnapper. As well as check on his brother. Shi hadn’t shown him where Sasuke was, but Itachi knew that his otouto would be in an extremely vulnerable position due to his blindness.

Having said this, Itachi mentally instructed Shi to fly ahead and promptly took off at a breakneck pace toward Konoha.

 

“O-oi, Itachi-san! Wait up!”

 

“I will do no such thing, Kisame,” Itachi called, his voice carrying over the wind. “Time is of the essence.”

 

After a bout of intense running, Kisame caught up with a huff.  “You really are that stoked about watching your village get razed to the ground?”

 

“Hn.”

 

“Itachi-san, are you even listening?”

 

“Hn.”

 

Though peripherally aware of the ‘conversation’ transpiring, Itachi’s thoughts were already miles away. He hoped for Kakashi-san’s sake that he was doing a better job of protecting Sasuke than he had Sakura, because if he wasn’t, there would be consequences.

Notes:

So,,,,, ???? What did you people think? Minato kept a diary! Itachi is coming!! Rasna’s is Tobirama’s secret love child!?!?!
(Btw, I must give kudos to madamvikto who guessed a staggering amount regarding the Rasna backstory. Honestly, when I read her review I was like ??????? OH MY FUCKING GOD. Literally so glad your comment was in Spanish bc that would’ve been a huge spoiler. You definitely left me floored. )

Also, I recently got into discord! It’s a great way to socialise with like-minded people, I’ve found, and it gave me the idea that I could maybe create a discord group for you guys to join? Frankly, it wouldn’t even have to be about my story. I just feel like I know most of you regulars by now pretty well – and I love talking with you, so if ya’ll are up to it? Please let me know!

Speaking of discord, for the Sakura Haruno group I’m on, I participated in a secret Santa event where I was supposed to gift someone a one shot of a certain pairing (I got Kakashi/Sakura), and it kind of… grew… and now it’s finished at 50k. So if anyone likes that pairing, I’d really appreciate if you gave Silver Lining a whirl. It’s already finished (so no, it’s not yet another WIP, hurrah), though I haven’t posted everything yet.

But enough of that. I really put in an effort to get this chapter out now and wish you all happy new year (hopefully happier than ‘21 has been) and belated merry christmas. ‘21 has been hard for me, and I found some ‘refugee’ from the bad stuff in writing. I hope, that if anyone has been in a similar situation, this story may have been able to help you as it has me.

Chapter 34: Dirty Little Secret

Summary:

In which the Battle of the Tower comes to a decissive end, promises are kept, bonds are forged, and innocents are killed.

EDIT: this is now only the first part of the chapter. Because of pacing reasons, I've decided to divide it into two

Notes:

Good news everyone! More Than Enemies has reachedc certain mylestones and I want to share them with you, since it's thanks to all of you that this is possible.
First off, thank god NalaNkechi told me, or I would be none the wiser that More Than Enemies now has a TV tropes page !!! (Let's take a moment to just marvel at this fact. I am still in shock over it.) I encourage all of you to check the page out, as even if you've already read the fic, the commentary on the fic is really well-thought out and who knows? You may find out some hidden truths you didn't know about! The person who's written it certainly has done their homework on More Than Enemies and the little easter eggs I tend to scatter about this behemoth of a fic. Bottom line: if you, yes you, the person who's written that TV tropes page, are reading this, just know that I love you and I love that TV tropes page so damn much your phone screen should be heating up with the power of my love. Weird metaphors aside, thank you. It really, really made my month.

But this isn't where this fic's stroke of luck ends! I found out yesterday that More Than Enemies has been added to this years's international fanworks day collection (see above), which I'm pretty proud of. To whoever recommended MTE for it, know that I am really flattered you thought MTE worthy of being a fandom classic.
I honestly never thought More Than Enemies would make it even half this far, and yet here we are... one chapter before the arc's end, and possible this fic's first part. *Cries silently into her keyboard*
It's been one hell of a ride, ladies and gentlemen.

Also, and I hate for this to drag on, but More Than Enemies is also the proud recipient of an absolutely gorgeous piece of fan art which I will post here for you to admire. I cannot emphasize enough just how beautiful madamvikto's portrayal of Sakura with the ninken is. (also yes, if that username seems familiar to you, it's because she's also the person who managed to guess Rasna's backstory! Crazy, huh? ) Here, I'll let you see for yourselves

If you've made it this far, happy reading everyone!

 

Here's a quick recap, since there's a lot going on at the same time:

 

TOWER ARC:

-the ANBU and Root troops storm the hokage tower, where Hiruzen was battling Orochimaru

-Root agent (Yann) uses a jutsu which allows a dead person to possess his body (they need the help of a really strong shinobi in order to support the tower, so they let him get possessed by guy called Eita)

-They manage to free the clan heads, who were inside a fuinjutsu barrier. Kakashi vs Minato, Río vs Tobirama

-It turns out Eita is Shikaku’s brother and hates Minato

-Minato, Kakashi and InoShikaCho team up to take Eita down (he doesn't care about collateral as long as he can kill Minato), and Inoichi and Shikaku in the process end up seeing his memories & discover that Minato can be one scare son of a-

-Tobirama is fighting his own descendant (Río) and doesn't know it. 

 

SAKURA ARC:

-Sakura has managed to save the Academy children, finds out that all the civilians are trapped inside the secret passages within the hokage mountain. She uses a chakra pattern Itachi had taught her to warn the ANBU, and in doing so gets questioned about how she learned it, and the whole Tetsuya secret comes out.

-Disguised as an ANBU, Kabuto approaches her to gather intelligence about Itachi. Sakura’s conversation with him reveals that Tetsuya is Itachi Uchiha, so Kabuto decides to kidnap her (reasons unknown) into the passages beneath the hokage mountain, where all the civilians (including Sakura’s parents) are at.

-As she’s skilled enough to break out of Kabuto’s genjutsu, like in canon, Sakura wakes up in a dark tunnel where she discovers all the dead ANBU that were left of Kabuto’s team, as he has killed them. (They were the reinforcements meant for the hokage tower batlle.) Sakura runs into Kabuto and manages to get a hit in (in the eyes) thanks to Itachi’s training, but isn’t decisive enough to finish him off. Kabuto now hold a grudge against her. Sakura must face Rasna, who it turns out was an enemy nin.

 

ITACH:

-Itachi finds out (through Shi-chan) that Sakura is in trouble, and he and Kisame go to Konoha, on paper to get revenge on Orochimaru, though Itachi’s intentions are to give Kisame the slip and check on Sakura and Sasuke.

 

INO, SHIKAMARU, CHIHIRO, YOSHINO:

-Choji has been killed by poison and Shikamaru is on the verge of death as well.

-Chihiro (Ino’s mother, Tobirama’s granddaughter, as well as Hiashi’s love interest) conducts interrogation and manages to somehow tell apart those who lie and those who don’t, and thus discovers what poison has been used and the antidote for it.

-Yoshino rallies the Nara men to fighting in order to avenge her son, whom she believes to be dead

-Ino sneaks out of her house to get her hands on the plant that can cure Shikamaru.

-Plant is called frozen azalea and is very valuable as its exclusive to Konoha (greenhouses consists of drafts taken from Mr Ukki, the plant Río gave to Kakashi). The problem with this plant is that its sap only works as the antidote seconds after being unearthed or if it’s processed by a machine, so even if Ino gets to the greenhouses unscathed, there will be further difficulties.

-Chihiro immediately knows her daughter is missing and knows how to find her and has gone to do so. Ino manages to convince her to help her get the cure for Shikamaru (and preferably the rest of poison victims from Ino’s party)

 

 

 

*The fic pics up in a scene with Naruto and Sasuke that appears during a previous chapter, but it ties in directly with this next scene, so I've left the prevously appearing part as well, separated by a line, as it makes reading this easier. I recommend not skipping the first part unless you've read the last few chapters of the fic in one sitting.

 

---

 

Naruto and Sasuke were running like crazy people around the hospital. Or rather, Naruto’s various clones were, as the real one was still facing the Gaara guy.

Gaara, the blonde knew, was stronger. Naruto wasn’t an idiot (or at least not completely), he knew that if Sasuke-teme had freaked out over Gaara’s chakra capacity, it must be for a reason. But what Sasuke didn’t know was that Naruto had a lot more chakra than he looked like. The Pervy Sage had explained it to him: how he had a seal in his tummy that was tied to his chakra core, and that it not only contained the nine-tailed fox bastard, but also absorbed most of Naruto’s chakra as an extra protection. When he was at full capacity, the seal was virtually unbreakable. Every time he used chakra, more of his own chakra would be leaked from the seal in order to enter his pathways, as if he hadn’t wasted chakra at all. This was an advantage, because it made it look like Naruto had a lot less chakra than he actually did, so enemies who were sensors wouldn’t immediately know he was the host of the kyubi or an Uzumaki.

“Yo, Gaara, guess what?” Naruto shouted. “Imma beat you right now!”

Meanwhile, Sasuke was rushing through the hospital and bursting into rooms in which he could sense stronger chakra signatures, trying to find any ninja or even strong civilians available. Unfortunately, it looked like every able-bodied ninja who had been within the hospital had already run off to join the fray, and he wanted to avoid involving civilians, if possible. That was when he felt a strong chakra signature right above him, a chakra signature that was calm, as though asleep, but definitely seemed to scream ‘shinobi’. 

Sasuke rushed up a flight of stairs toward it, so fast that he tripped and fell on the stairs, but he ignored the pain and kept going. They needed someone strong on their side; there was no way the dobe would last long against Gaara. Naruto’s clones may be with him, but he knew that they could burst if the real Naruto was hit very hard. This would mean Sasuke would be left completely alone and defenseless. No, he couldn’t chance it.

He sprinted the last few meters and crashed into the door of the room the shinobi was at. It was locked. Damn it all. Normally, Sasuke would have been able to break in with the aid of a basic lock-breaking tool, but without sight he would be troubled to find the lock, never mind open it. 

“Screw it,” he muttered, and formed the handsigns for a katon jutsu. Blind or not, a fireball was still a fireball. Next second he heard a loud crash and swearing, presumably the occupant of the room had awakened.

How someone could sleep through the invasion’s commotion, Sasuke didn’t know, but if he had to take a guess, it would be a Nara. At least he'd woken up when his door was broken down.

Sasuke had meant to ask, ‘are you a ninja’ but somehow, what came out was “Are you a Nara?”

The person inside was silent for a moment. “Seriously?” A squeak of bed frame, as though someone had sat up quickly. “How many times do I have to tell you people? My not having hair does not mean I’m not a Nara –! Wait. I do have hair. It grew out? Huh. Also who the hell are you? And how the hell did I get here? Is this the hospital?”

“You tell me,” Sasuke snapped. “Now are you a ninja or not?”

“Gueez. Kids these days. Breaking down hospital doors like nobodie's business. Aren’t you that Kakashi’s brat? Uchiha survivor extraordinaire? The one who bailed out of training with that pink-haired girl?”

“Can we do this later,” Sasuke said irritably. Wait. “You’re the guy who helped Sakura and I out?”

“Why are you asking me? Have you seriously forgotten my handsome visage–”

“Because I’m blind, you idiot!” Sasuke hissed. “Can you not see I’m wearing a blindfold?” Then he remembered the genjutsu keyed to a fuinjutsu array Kakashi had added to his blindfold in  order to make it look like he still had eyes when he channeled chakra into it and revised his opinion. At least Kakashi’s invention worked.

“A blind Uchiha?” the guy cackled. “Guess I’m not the only black sheep around, huh sheepy?.”

Sasuke was not amused. "That's Sasuke to you."

"Nara Akiha. Charmed."

Sasuke scoffed. Usually, he would have given the guy a glare and moved on with his life, but unfortunately his life might depend on getting along with this jerk.

“That’s great. Can we get a move on now?”

“What for? I mean… I do believe I’ve just woken up from a coma.”

“Well… tough.”

“Why? What’s going on, anyway?” His voice was tenser. Likely, he had realized something big was going on. Which begged the question: how was Sasuke going to explain this to a coma patient?

---

Sasuke frowned uncomfortably. “Look Nara. We’re being invaded at the moment. A sand nin called Gaara is in the lower floor. He needs to be taken care of.”

There was a long silence. “I… what?”

“Also, the enemy will likely attempt to take over the hospital,” Sasuke added as a second thought.

Cue loud swearing.

The Nara was clearly distraught. His colourful expletives were accompanied by the creaking of a bed, followed by the slap of two bare feet against the ground and frantic pacing around the room – he must have gotten up swiftly – to the background noise of cupboards being over and the shufling of drawers, alongside various iterations of something that sounded like: "What kind of bastard hid all my fucking kunai?" and "I am going to stab those fucking elders–”
Sasuke didn't necessarily understand what some elders had to do with this, but he did understand one thing: the Nara was trying to find his weapons. Unsuccesfully so. Damn it. He wanted to pull his hair out. What now? Sasuke’s fists clenched and unclenched. He had his own weapon pouches with him, containing shuriken, kunai, ninja wire, trap materials, antidote, the works. With his blindness, all these things would help him little, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop wearing the pouches. Their absence made him feel bare.

He listened to the Nara flitting about frantically opening closets and cabinets for a few seconds, wondering whether he should just give his weapons to this perfect stranger. Could he even trust a random coma patient to be at all useful? He sounded young… Probably useless then. His musings were interrupted by a sharp noise, as though a piece of glass had just broken, followed by silence. Sasuke, who had jumped out of his skin, immediately demanded:

“What was that?”

“Ah, the mirror. I just broke it.”

Sasuke stared. “And… why?”

“Just making myself some improvised weapons, sheepy. Nothing to worry about.” This was soon followed by the sound of fabric being… torn? Maybe a bedsheet or a pillowcase? Sasuke decided that the guy must be wrapping the fabric around the mirror shards to create a hilt for his makeshift weapon. Smart, but it would have been smarter to just ask him for a kunai.

“Tch.” Sasuke made an irritable noise but decided he had already wasted enough time with this guy and moved toward the door.

“Hey, hold up,” the Nara asked. “Where are you going? Aren’t you blind?”

“Aren’t you a coma patient?” Sasuke retorted, then slammed the door.
Now on the hallway, he concentrated on sensing again, and discovered two chakra signatures that were on the other end of the floor. Likely enemies, judging by how muted they were. Sasuke’s teeth gritted. He had to fight them, there was no way around it. How was he ever going to kill that man if he let this stop him? He couldn't cower in a corner. He couldn't be weak, no matter his circumstances. He owed it to his parents.

Sasuke stepped forward, intent on seeking out the enemy nin, but was immediately grabbed by the scruff of his collar. The damned Nara again. How? How had he snuck up on Sasuke whilst he was sensing? Sasuke had improved by leeps and bounds in sensing, to the point where within a four meter distance, he could pinpoint exactly where someone was standing, and beyond that, he usually had some kind of inclining. Now, however, with the Nara, he was within his 'infallible' range, and yet Sasuke couldn't narrow his location down beyond 'somewhere close by', not to mention,  he hadn’t felt the Nara's chakra move at all and he should have. No average Joe could do that, Sasuke was certain. That chakra dispersing trick to hide his location… that was the sort of thing he’d expect from Kakashi. Or from that man. Sasuke’s eyes narrowed.

“You… you’re not just a chunin, are you?” he demanded.

“Of course not. Why so surprised? I am Nara Akiha, the star of my generation, the whirlwind, the–”

Never mind. Sasuke stalked off. The damned Nara followed behind him.

“Wait, what are you doing? Good job on sensing those intruders,” Nara Akiha said, “but how about you stay here while I take care of the problem, hmm kid?” Again with that condescending tone.

“I will fight,” Sasuke said with finality.

The Nara sounded irritated. "Just let me do my job, kid.”

"I'm not a kid."

“I don’t have time to argue with a blind genin."

“So don’t. Blind doesn’t equal useless,” Sasuke spat. “I will fight.”

“Damn it, Uchiha!” Nara Akiha exclaimed. He was one weird Nara, to lose his temper like that.

The enemy chakra signatures were coming closer. Sasuke could practically feel him tense.

"I will fight. I don't care what you tell me to do," Sasuke repeated stubbornly. "I graduated top of my class and if anyone tries anything, I'll just burn them to a crisp."

There was a brief silence. “Can you even aim? How do I know you won’t burn me to a crisp?”

Sasuke flinched. He was forced to admit, if only to himself, that the Nara had a point. The Nara had just proven that skilled enough ninja could trick Sasuke rudimentary sensory skills by spreading out their chakra over a large area, making it impossible to pinpoint their exact location. Hitting them with his katon would be extremely hard.

 

“Look, kid. I know you want to fight, but I am not dealing with this. You could seriously hurt yourself — or me. It’s nothing personal, but just… stay out of it.”

Sasuke’s teeth gritted. “I could… I could…” He bit his lip. He couldn’t do anything. Even trying to throw kunai would depend on being able to tell where his enemies were.

"You could play lookout in case anyone else comes," the Nara suggested. “I’m a shit sensor.”

“We could work together,” Sasuke countered desperately. “I can fight with a staff. If you made a clone, I could aim wherever your clone was standing and–”

“I am not going to waste my chakra on assuaging your pride,” the Nara cut in coolly.

Sasuke bit back a snarl. Bastard wouldn't know what teamwork was if it hit him in the face.

“I can hold my own!”

“No, you can’t. Now stand down, Uchiha, and let me handle this!”

Sasuke wanted to snap at him again, but even he knew that was a bad idea. The small amount of killing intent that had seeped out of the Nara’s previously pleasant chakra effectively checked his tongue. Swallowing his pride (something he had quite a bit of practice in since becoming blind), Sasuke grudgingly nodded.

“Let’s go, then,” the Nara said, and they were off.

They rushed toward their enemies and before Sasuke knew it, the fight had begun. If he had doubted the Nara’s proclamation, his worries were soon assuaged the second he felt his chakra change into nature chakra. Seconds later, powerful gusts of wind enveloped the room. The Nara reminded him a little of the dobe in that he couldn’t resist taunting his opponents with bad jokes and wish-washy commentary, but he was surprisingly focused beneath that – and the one time Sasuke did dare to throw a fireball, he immediately sunshined over to tell him to stay the fuck out of the fight. Sasuke would have felt more insulted that he barely had to do anything if not for the fact that the Nara treated the two chunin that came from other hospital rooms to help them the exact same way as he had Sasuke. He rudely told them not to butt into his fight and if they absolutely must, then to stay well away from him.

Sasuke did notice, however, that the entire time that this was going on, no kunai or shuriken graced him, or even came close to it. He was enough of a sensor by this point to notice the copious amounts of wind chakra that seemed to swirl around him. Sasuke’s jaw clenched. The Nara was treating him like some defenseless princess who needed to be protected even from kunai. It was humiliating.

He supposed most people would have been glad to have a skilled jonin-level ninja at your back during an invasion, deflecting kunai and shuriken for them. Sasuke was not most people. He wanted, no – needed – to prove himself. To himself. He had thought, optimistically perhaps, that his sensing could compensate for his lack of sight. That it even may be a boon in the long term, as it completely annulled Itachi’s sharingan… but now? Now Sasuke had been slapped by reality in the face. And he knew he needed to slap it back, to regain his footing, before he lost it completely and fell, before he lost his ability to get up.

With the two enemies now dispatched, Sasuke was about to confront the Nara with demands to stop protecting him, but one of the chunin was faster than him.

“Hey, uh, what did you say was your name again?”

The Nara answered. The chunin remarked that he was very skilled for someone so yong. The Nara said he wasn’t that young, he was sixteen. The chunin shrewdly commented:

“It is young. For ANBU.”

There was a charged silence. The Nara neither confirmed nor denied the implicit question. The other chunin spluttered and asked whether this was true. Was he truly ANBU? So young?

Nara Akiha again didn’t say anything, but he didn’t try to move away, from the sound of it, when the first chunin ripped his hospital gown down, revealing what must have been his ANBU tattoo.

“It is curious,” the inquisitive chunin remarked. “I make a point to know every jonin in this village. I work for intelligence, you know? Talent-spotting department. Our job is basically to know about people like you… and yet you have remained… in the shadows.”

The Nara again said nothing. Then he proceeded to walk past the two chunin, as if they didn’t exist, and place a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

“You coming, sheepy?”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the Nara’s coddling, but he could respect him. The two chunin who had let someone younger than them do all the fighting whilst they stood around, on the other hand…

Sasuke followed behind the Nara. No, he had no desire to stay with those gossip mongers.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

The Nara’s chakra bleeped nonchalantly, as if he were shrugging. “Well, now that no one else is coming, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sasuke stopped walking. “What?”

“Don’t sound so scandalized. I’ve been in a coma for who knows how long. The body has its needs, you know.”

“We’re being invaded and you need to go to the bathroom?”

“I am dehydrated, I need to pee, and do something about my hair.”

“Your hair?! What is this, a beauty pageant?” Forget comparing the Nara to Itachi, Itachi would never waste time with beauty pageant-like things.

The Nara snorted. “So sensitive. Look, my hair has grown out and is annoying the crap out of me, my bladder is acting up, and if I don’t do something about this fucking hospital gown, I’m going to end up flashing half of Konoha before the day is up. So yes. Bathroom.”

“I can’t believe this,” said Sasuke dryly.

“Not my fault you have such fragile masculinity. I have to be in top condition for this, kid. If I die today, I don’t want my headstone to say: 'killed in action because he skipped his bathroom break'."

Sasuke snorted. He was actually feeling parched, himself. And he might need to pee as well. Not that that was anyone's business.

“Fine. I’ll go with you. To stand guard,” he quickly added.

 

The chunin didn’t take long to show up as well, apparently wanting to prolong the “Nara kid protecting our asses” arrangement. Sasuke wanted to roll his eyes at them. The Nara refusing to accept help was bloody annoying, but these two refusing to lift a finger to help was even more so. All they were concerned about was discussing how much of an asshole Orochimaru was and then gossiping about the possible reasons there could be for letting the Nara join ANBU before he’d made jonin, and why no one seemed to be aware of his existence.

Though he hated gossip, Sasuke had to admit that they were right in being suspicious. It was rather strange that someone none of the jonin even knew could be ANBU. Not to mention, the Nara seemed to be leading a very successful career – just like Itachi had, back in the day, and Itachi had been infamous even as a child. Just like all the great ones had. (And then there was Sasuke: still a measly genin.) Meanwhile, the Nara, at age sixteen sixteen (only four years older) had already made ANBU, even if he had remained in the shadows. (It made self-loathing flare up within him. He should be the one those chunin were gossiping over. He should be the one keeping everybody safe, not that Nara. He shouldn't be the blind damsel in distress who needed to have his kunai deflected for him. Sasuke's jaw clenched so hard that his teeth gnashed, the sound reverberating in his skull.) Something was strange about the Nara, Sasuke could agree with the chunin on that. But honestly, unlike them he didn't care. It was the Nara's business and no one else's. Still, even though he told himself he didn't care, he couldn't help but wonder.

Sasuke knew, from the bragging his father had once used to indulge in, that only the very best made it to the black ops before their twenties, the chances of which decreased with every passing year beneath twenty.  Itachi was the only person who had been accepted into the corp as young as eleven, and been made captain at the age Sasuke was currently. Besides for him, there were only three people in ANBU's history with a similar track record, at least according to his father's rants. One had been Sasuke's cousin Shisui, who had joined at the age of sixteen – just like the Nara – he other, Sasuke knew, had been Kakashi himself, at a terrifying, when he thought about it, fourteen, and finally, the last one was the operative whom his brother had been named after, ANBU weasel. The ANBU weasel his brother had been named after, in hopes that he would follow in his footsteps. It had been Sasuke's father who had wished this, of course, – and he had gotten his wish. A little more than that, thought Sasuke hatefully. Sasuke had only heard the first weasel mentioned once.

It had been when he was young, back when that man hadn't even been inducted into ANBU yet. He had woken up to his parents' screaming downstairs, to the backdrop noise of plates being thrown and voices raised. They were at it again. But unlike most times they fought, that night, his mother had lost it. There was the sound of something shattering, and then her voice had raised louder than he'd ever heard it:

"If you ever take Itachi back to a war zone again, Fugaku…! So help me Hagoromo, I will sick the weasel on you! You know I know him!"

"That again? Must you insist on lying so obviously? There is no way you know him, Mikoto. No one does. If you want to lie, then–"

"That's it. We're going to him." His mother's voice was ice. Then: silence. After that, for as long as he strained his ears, Sasuke had heard nothing.

The next day, his father had been white as a corpse and with dark shadows beneath his eyes, and he wasn't able to look at his mother.

So yes. That was the person Itachi had been rather aptly named after. And now there was this guy. Nara Akiha. Yet another exceptionally young ANBU – one whose ideology went against everything Kakashi's stood for... too. Just like that man's. Just like Shisui, who had been infamous for going against his clan. And most likely, just like the first weasel's.  This proved it. Teamwork was overrated.

 

 

 

The two chunin were still gossiping even now, though something didn’t pay them any mind. No, what immediately caught Sasuke’s attention was the faint humming of a chakra signature, soft, like it was trying to conceal itself… no, more than one signature. Two floors down, creeping upward.

The enemy was coming.

Naturally, it just had to be while the Nara was busy in the bathroom doing who knows what. The two chunin, who were supposedly standing guard, hadn’t noticed a thing, still busy complaining about the unfairness of being invaded during their vacation, and being stuck with a genin while it was happening. A blind genin who would surely get himself killed and then they’d get all the heat for letting the useless Uchiha kick it.

Sasuke frowned at them with disgust and walked down the corridor, ignoring their, suddenly frantic, calls of his name once they realized he had a) heard them and b) he was walking off. They did not, however, follow him, too scared to move from the Nara’s side. Sasuke scoffed to himself. He wasn’t like them. He wouldn’t be. He refused to. During the prior fight, the Nara had done everything. Sasuke couldn’t aim with his fire jutsu, so he had to rely on the other to attack for him, he couldn’t dodge, so he had to rely on the Nara to deflect every attack for him… it was maddening.

But, he told himself, that was when someone else I could hurt with my bad aim was there. Now he was alone. Now there was no one he could hurt if he filled everything with fire. Teamwork could go hang. Sasuke had something to prove.

---

The casualties of the Battle of the Tower were many, but of those, a surprising amount of Konoha nin had survived. One Genma Shiranui was among them. He propped himself up, gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Kakashi, you old dog,” he smirked to himself. “A bit later and I’d be dead as a doornail.” He’d have to let Kakashi mooch off on him for at least ten dinners for this one. Clumsily, the tokubetsu jonin dragged his body over to one of the corners of the room, where he could see some of his peers gathering.

“Hey,” Yugao greeted him tiredly when he finally made it to her side. “Glad you’re okay, Gen.”

He smiled blearily at her. “Me too, Yugao-chan, me too.”

They began working to gather the rest of the survivors in the safety of their corner, using what little energy they had left to build a sort of wall made out of bodies to cover themselves with. At one point, a Suna jonin had noticed what they were up to and sent a powerful katon technique their way. Defenseless as they were, that should have been the end of it, but hokage-sama interfered just in the nick of time, using an overpowered doton jutsu to stop the fire from reaching them.

“Whew, thanks for the save, boss!” Genma croaked. “I’d reckoned we were toast right there.”

“You’re welcome,” replied the sandaime briskly. The old man was panting heavily and placing all of his weight on his (trembling) right leg. Not good.

“Can you walk?” sandaime-sama asked them, eyes concerned. 

The irony of the question wasn’t lost on Genma, thought he still nodded, making an effort to get up, but embarrassingly – his limbs did not cooperate. Next to him, Yugao wasn’t much better off.

Sandaime-sama exhaled tiredly. “No matter. I’ll help you up.”

The man then proceeded to make several trips to the upper area of the tree Hashirama Senju had just grown (and holly shit, the fucking shodai was here), carrying one agent at a time, before ultimately bracing all his weight against the tree trunk, his face drenched in sweat. Genma couldn’t fault him for it. Sarutobi Hiruzen was in his seventies, and by kami he had still managed to put up a hell of a fight against Hashirama freaking Senju and Orochimaru of the sannin and then heave half a dozen people up several flights of stories’ worth of  height with two barely functional legs.

“You should rest a bit, hokage-sama,” Genma cautioned. “As your personal guard–”

“I appreciate the concern, my boy,” Hiruzen cut in smoothly, looking like he was about to summarily dismiss him – only to interrupt himself when his left knee gave out on him. The hokage then proceeded to cuss rather colorfully at it, but the knee did not budge.

“I think your knee agrees with me,” Genma muttered. If sandaime-sama kept glaring at his offending appendage like that, he’d pop a vein.

“He’s right,” a new voice interrupted. “You should rest, hokage-sama.” A panting Morino Ibiki, along with Inuzuka Tsume and Aburame Shigeru landed on their branch. Ibiki was brazing the limp form of Hiashi Hyuga on his shoulder. A very dead Hiashi Hyuga.

Genma blanched, eyes not leaving the body. 

“Wh – wha…?” Yugao choked out. “What happened to him? Is he…?”

“Senju bloody Tobirama happened,” Tsume ground out. “Didn’t you see it? Our dear nidaime’s a freak of nature. That fight was a fucking massacre. Completely one-sided fight, too. Never seen anythin’ like it.”

Aburame Shigeru nodded his assent. Ibiki grunted. Evidently they both agreed with Tsume’s assessment, which was saying something, coming from two of the most seasoned shinobi in the village. Collectively, their group glanced at the bruised, near unrecognizable corpse of the Hyuga clan head. His limbs were bent at odd angles, a glazed expression was etched on his slackened face and… Genma blanched. Was that his spine poking out?

“Tobirama Senju did this?” Yugao whispered, pale as the dead man before her.

The silence that followed was heavy.

“Sensei has always been overlooked in favor of shodaime-sama,” the hokage said grimly, after a lengthy pause. “However… people seem to forget that, even if his main strength wasn’t ighting – he was still in the same league as his brother, power-wise. And that is more than most of history’s strongest shinobi can claim. Worse: unlike Hashirama-sama, my sensei was never a man who would pull his punches, neither in strength nor wit.”

They all glanced collectively at where Tobirama was currently. The man was speaking to Danzo, his posture indicating he was gearing up for a second fight. Oh, boy. Genma did not envy the elder.

“Yes, go! Kick his arse!” Tsume cheered joyously. Then, in a stage whisper: “Danzo’s a goner for sure.”

“Hear, hear,” Genma cheered. Unfortunately, Danzo wasted no time in gesturing for some masked agent to take his place and subsequently backpedaling the hell out of there, quickly putting some space between himself and the nidaime. However, to all their collective surprises, the agent wasn’t having it and took off just as quickly.

Even Tobirama looked like he was almost about to gape – and did Danzo just squawk?

“By kami,” Genma muttered, “I’m not sure if the guy’s got some balls of steel or if he’s suicidal.”

“I don’t know,” Shigeru Aburame mused. “Given what we’ve seen, running seems like a sound tactic. Why? By getting Senju-sama to chase him, the agent is avoiding contact, but also keeping Senju-sama from any repeat performances.” They all unwittingly side-eyed Hiashi’s remains.

“It won’t work,” sandaime-sama declared with a heavy sigh. “Sensei was the fastest shinobi of his time. Even in this weakened form… one doesn't just run away from Tobirama Senju. It simply isn’t done.”

A moment later, even more doubt was cast upon the agent’s judgment when he managed to lose his mask, revealing… a woman.

“Wait, did Danzo seriously force a fight like this one on some random chick?” Genma exclaimed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yugao bit out.

Crap. He’d forgotten she was there.

He laughed awkwardly. “Well, I mean… no offense, but that woman looks like she should be looking over a genin team like Kurenai, you know, not–” Oh, shit. “Uh. Why are you looking at me like that? Yugao-chan?”

“Genma-kun, are you trying to imply something about Kurenai?” Yugao asked pleasantly.

“Um… nothing?”

“Then I hope you realize that Kurenai and I are going to have words with you about nothing once this is over.”

“W-wait, no,” Genma stuttered, sensing his impending doom. “I-I mean I know appearances can be deceiving…” he hedged. “Taking on a genin team is a sign of character! Even Kakashi has done it!  I seriously meant no offense!”

“And that’s the problem, you sexist son of a bitch!”

“Yugao-chan, come on! I know we have this sibling dynamic going on, but maybe hitting me when we both should be saving our strength is pushing it a bit too much!”

“Fine.” Yugao scoffed, letting go of his collar and turning her head away. “But don’t think this conversation is over.” She sniffed, turning toward the rest of the group. “Anyone know who blondie is?” 

“Clearly not a Root agent,” Ibiki commented. “Danzo only ever recruits males.”

“See, he gets my point, Yugao-chan!” Genma exclaimed. “There’s no way that woman is ANBU level! It’s a right dick move, to throw a defenseless lady to her death like that. I hope Danzo gets hit by a–”

“Yes?”

…guh? Damn the painkillers for lowering his inhibitions and awareness like that. Damn them to hell. Genma closed his mouth and turned around very, very slowly. Danzo himself was standing before their group, an eyebrow arched at him.

“Please, do feel free to continue, Shiranui.”

“Um, n-never mind.”

Sandaime-sama’s eyes narrowed at Danzo. “What are you doing here?” His tone wasn’t kind.

“I think I more than qualify for admittance into your little makeshift med bay, Hiruzen,” Danzo bit back, gesturing at his missing arm and acid-covered face. He then glanced disparagingly at Tsume, Shigeru and Ibiki. “More than any of them, anyway.”

Tsume bristled. “Why you little–! We’re here to protect sandaime-sama in his time of weakness! If you have a problem with that–”

“Inuzuka-san, please.” Sandaime-sama had apparently given up on trying to tell Danzo to fuck off. “Let us not fight. We already have enough on our plate as is.”

Tsume scowled. “Whatever. I still think Shimura should’ve taken on Tobirama-sama himself, instead of sending that poor girl off to–”

“That poor girl is my agent and more than capable of holding her own, Inuzuka.”

The group gave Danzo various dubious looks. “I mean no offense, Shimura,” Ibiki ventured, “but if even the Hyuga clan head didn’t stand a chance against the nidaime…”

“Yes,” said sandaime-sama frostily. “That woman is done for.”

“Don’t count your chickens yet, Hiruzen,” Danzo snarked. “I have full confidence she’ll do much better than the Hyuga, at the very least.”

Whatever Danzo may have said next was interrupted when Tobirama summoned a tsunami that swallowed his entire side of the tower. Genma stared blankly at the monstrous wave. Since Tobirama’s back was to them, it was impossible to see the woman, but escape would clearly be futile. He tried to send chakra into his limbs, but the many injuries he’d obtained previously, together with the poison which was still in his system (even despite the antidote), made shunshining over to save her in time impossible. Shit.

The tide of the wave washed over and the woman was somehow still standing. On a tightrope. A very flimsy-looking tightrope that was indeed more a wire than it was a rope.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

“See?” Danzo was the first to recover. “I told you so!” No one was listening to him.

“Is that chewing gum?” Aburame Shigeru asked, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wait. That oto jonin who was clinging to the wire… he just fell off, didn’t he?” Yugao’s voice was much softer, but they all heard her. “A jonin fell off. That’s not normal.”

“Does that mean…  is the wire a chakra blocker?” Shigeru inferred.

Tsume balked. “The hell is she even standing on that thing?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” refuted Ibiki. “There’s no way that’s a chakra blocker. It’s impossible balance upon a wire that thin without chakra.”

A few seconds later, a somewhat astounded Tobirama Senju appeared to have realized what they just had: the woman was not actually dead yet. Tobirama definitely looked pissed as he turned around to march back in her direction, proceeding to jump up and then balance on the wire-that-may-or-may-not-be-a-chakra-blocker as well, whilst using a stolen katana to try and stab the blonde into oblivion. She did not make this task easy. Not to be outdone, each time she did this Tobirama threw a special kunai that teleported him to where the woman had relocated barely even a millisecond after she’d landed – but it was almost as though she’d been able to anticipate what he’d do. The woman somehow managed to pin more wires to the wall, once more through the judicious application of chewing gum (seriously, when did she even get the time to masticate it?), giving her further mobility, not that the nidaime seemed to be particularly faced by this. She and Tobirama looked almost like two people moving on nothing but air as they fought – the wires were that thin.

“How is she still standing? Never mind that it’s even on that thing,” Ibiki muttered incredulously. “Hiashi lasted five minutes. We’re already at the nine minute mark with this… ANBU Root.”

“Ah, but I thought you felt sorry for ‘that poor defenseless girl’?” Danzo drawled.

“Fuck you, Shimura!” Tsume snapped.

Danzo shrugged. “Pass.”

As it turned out, the woman’s identity was the question circling through all of their heads, more so after watching her brief interaction with Inoichi. Even the sandaime appeared to be wondering about her.

“Who is she, Danzo?” the man questioned, after apparently sitting on his curiosity for the last five minutes. “She’s anticipating sensei’s attacks – who is she?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Danzo asked smugly.

“Wait, are they actually talking now?” Genma interrupted, noticing that the blonde was apparently saying something to Tobirama.

“They’re having a chat,” Tsume confirmed with disbelief.

Ibi narrowed his eyes. “What in the seven blazes are they even discussing?”

The group collectively strained their ears when – the woman said something that shocked Tobirama Senju into actual stillness. Before they could stop to marvel at that, she proceeded to use the chance to grab the man’s fur coat of all things and throw it into the air – Genma had been about to open his mind to question why in the seven blazes she’d miss an opening like that to snatch the man’s fur coat of all things – when the innocent-looking garment exploded in a million pieces, revealing… a scary amount of previously hidden kunai. Genma stared at the shower of charred paper bits and kunai falling from the ceiling and around them. No way. There was no way. But the fact that the explosion contained bits of paper as well didn’t lie. Hiraishin kunai.

How in the fuck did she know–? 

“So that’s where he was keeping his special kunai!?” Hiruzen exclaimed with absolute outrage, making them all jump. “Are you serious?”

“All of these years thinking he was using some kind of seal to materialize them out of nothing–” Danzo exclaimed, wide eyed.

The two were too busy freaking out over the fur coat to actually listen to the conversation transpiring beneath them… but Genma was not. He wanted to know – what had the blonde said to Tobirama to make him stop dead in his tracks like that? It must have been one hell of a village secret, or maybe some arcane knowledge, to make the esteemed nidaime falter. No, that couldn’t be it. She must have revealed some exceedingly confidential piece of intelligence about Root. He had to know what it was. This is why he employed a hearing enhancement jutsu to try to eavesdrop on their conversation. Unfortunately, the overall noise in the entire tower made it difficult to make out words – he was pretty sure that had to be it because… 

‘Did she just call the nidaime a fashionista?’

That couldn’t be right. It had to be another word and he had misheard. He was only managing to catch snippets of their conversation, after all, but further exposure only led to Gemma growing more and more bewildered.

“…you only have to scratch me…” that was the nidaime.

Then came the blonde’s reply: something, something, “…need a cheerleader.”

Followed by a very serious utterance of: “…toddlers…”

And then, the blonde cried very audibly: “you’d look so good with pompoms!”

Genma blanched.

…what… the actual fuck.

---

Decisively, Sasuke slunk toward the enemy presences in the lower floor. The Nara had told him to wait for him when he’d gone into the bathroom, but Sasuke wasn’t a pansy coward who needed someone to hold his hand. He could do it alone. His footballs trod silently against the floor as he advanced toward the enemy. Chakra blazing beneath his pores, ready to burst free any second. Finally, he reached the corridor his targets were at. He counted three of them, but none could conceal their exact locations like the Nara could.

Good. They weren’t ANBU-level then. Nerves, fear and eagerness coiled in his gut, until he felt like his stomach muscles clenched any tighter they’d implode. His mouth was dry as parchment even though he’d just drunk, his every sense was honing in on this one moment, this bend of the corridor, these three ninja. He might die now. No, if his gamble proved wrong, he would die. The fire coursed through him and his fingers sped through a familiar sequence.

Fingers trembling, Sasuke smirked into the face of possible death, teeth clenched harder than compact steel. Fire style: phoenix flower jutsu!

The hottest flames he had ever managed to produce sprang from Sasuke’s lips, engulfing everything around it. There were twin shouts and startled blips of the three chakra signatures. Good, they’d not expected him to have fangs quite like these. Now they had already lost. Sasuke made sure to create a fire larger and taller than the entire corridor was, so they’d have nowhere to escape, and he put his everything into it, until it was so hod that his very eye sockets felt dry.

Finally, he dared put a stop to the technique, and paused, honing his senses. Nothing. The chakra signatures had disappeared. All he could hear was his ragged breathing in the silence. He was the only living thing left in the corridor, he, and the flickering flames that still remained, spreading over what must have once been a door. He had won. He had defeated his enemy, three enemies, on his own, without help. He wasn’t useless. Sasuke slowly reached up to wipe his sweat-matted fringe and grinned. “I did it. I did it, I–”

“Yup. This is your first kill, right, sheepy?”

The Nara? Sasuke whipped around. How had he snuck up on him again?! “None of your business.”

“Not really, no, but first kills are a serious thing. You can’t just shrug them off.”

“I’m not shrugging it off,” Sasuke said.

The Nara sighed. “One should always show respect to those he has killed. It’s… a part of our job as much as the actual killing.”

“Well that’s the first I’ve ever heard of that rule,” Sasuke replied.

“I… well, I’m bad at explaining this sort of thing. Shikaku-oji explained it to me. If you don’t respect your enemies, how can you respect yourself?”

Sasuke scoffed. Once he killed Itachi, he would be the happiest man on earth and he would laugh in the bastard’s face while he did it. This was none of the Nara’s business, though.

“Yeah, whatever.” He paused, sidetracked, once he felt a strong blip in the chakra signatures beneath him. The Nara seemed to have sensed it at the same time, because he grabbed Sasuke just then and sunshined. A second later, the floor they’d just been standing on turned to smithereens as a gigantic thing (Sasuke couldn’t actually see what it was, but it reminded him of Gaara’s chakra), burst through the floor. And then the ceiling above them.

“What the fuck?!” Akiha exclaimed. “The Shukaku?!”

“What the hell is that thing?” Sasuke asked, even as he noticed that the two chunin’s chakra signatures had faded from existence.

“It’s a tailed beast,” the Nara spat. “Weapons of war, of mass destruction. They are only ever released into battlefields with a single intention: to destroy indiscriminately. This one… is Suna’s. Our ally’s. Or former, I should say, because no way is Konoha forgiving this.” Sasuke got the feeling he was baring his teeth, the easy going tone replaced by something almost aggressive.

“Can you take that thing?” Sasuke asked him.

“No. I might have had a chance against the partial form if I were in top shape, but even if we’re lucky and this isn’t the fully released tailed beast, I just woke up from a coma. My chakra reserves are shit and I don’t have any weapons, armor or soldier pills. Not to mention, I have to make sure you don’t die, kid.”

“Forget about me.”

“We’ll see,” the Nara replied.

Sasuke gritted his teeth. He didn’t need a babysitter.

“Naruto,” he realized. He and the dobe could team up and let the ANBU tackle the Shukaku without fluttering around Sasuke to protect him. “We need to find Naruto. I can’t tell where he is.”

“Naruto?” the Nara asked. “He’s here?! Damn, the Kyubi! And he’s fighting the one tails?!”

Sasuke frowned. “The… what?” Why did he just…? Kyubi?! Wait. No way. Did Naruto…? Sasuke understood then: Naruto had the Kyubi inside of him, like Gaara must have the Shukaku. His breath hitched for a moment, barely able to reconcile the image of the sunny dobe containing that raging beast which had pulverized the village twelve years ago… but hell, even the dates coincided. Wasn’t the dobe’s birthday on the Kyubi festival? Wasn’t it just twelve years ago that the fox had destroyed Konoha?

“Oi,” Sasuke said. “Is Naruto the same as Gaara is with the Shikaku, but with the Kyubi?”

“I can’t answer that question,” the Nara replied. It was answer enough. Sasuke knew that he would probably freak out over the revelation and its ramifications at a later date, but at present time he just paused for a moment and then shelved the topic for later revision.

“Is he…” the Nara asked him, “is Naruto still…? He didn’t suddenly…?”

“Turn into the Kyubi? No. At least not while I was there.”

“Good,” the Nara said with relief. “But the village might send an ANBU team, or even a Root team to try to do just that. If they release the Kyubi to fight off the one tails, Naruto will die.”

Root? Well, it didn’t matter. He could ask questions later. For now, the dobe was in trouble and that was priority number one.

“We need to find Naruto,” Sasuke decided.

“We do.”

“I can sense the dobe’s shadow clones in the area, we should track them down and find out what’s going on, and protect him from any ANBU who show up.” Sasuke gave the Nara a suspicious look. “You’re not going to try to release the nine tails, are you?”

“Would I have told you all this if I was?”

Point. Sasuke nodded.

“Alright… I’ll trust you for now, Nara. You distract the Shukaku, I’ll get the dobe.”

“Be cariful then, kid. I am not going to pay attention to what you’re up to as much.”

“Just mind your own business,” Sasuke replied, and without waiting any longer, leapt toward the hospital rooftop, where the beast was now at. The Nara followed suit, but Sasuke was already focusing on the different chakra signatures on the rooftop – all of them, identical. He grinned despite himself. The presence of Naruto’s clones at least told him he was still alive, which was already a miracle. The dobe really was more competent than Sasuke gave him credit for. Still, he wanted to talk to the real one. Maybe he had a broken leg and was lying under some rubble somewhere, unbeknownst to his clones and everyone else. Sasuke needed to check.

The problem was, naturally, that the beast – the Shukaku, Sasuke corrected himself – happened to discover their presence and immediately began to attack them.

“Dodge!” Akiha screamed at him. Sasuke leapt in some random direction, heart in his throat. “Dodge!” came again. He jumped anew. It seemed that Gaara (or the Shukaku?) had decided for some ineffable reason that he wanted to fight Sasuke, and was doing everything in his power to squeeze him like a bug. Dozens of Naruto’s were flitting around the beast like flies, attempting to distract him, to no avail. The occasional gust of wind would sweep Sasuke away from particularly hard-to-dodge attacks, but still he came close to kicking it more than once.

“Stay out of sight, sheepy!” the Nara yelled. “The thing’s after you, fuck if I know why!”

Sasuke could barely hear him over the whistling of the wind. He cast a hengue over himself to look like the dobe – hopefully that would keep Gaara off his back – and began stopping random Naruto clones in their tracks and asking them if they were the original.

He found the real dobe rather qucikly, mostly because he was the only one spamming shadow clones every few minutes, and that was rather easy to sense.

“Teme?!” To Naruto’s credit, he recognized Sasuke immediately, even before he said anything.

“Dobe,” Sasuke greeted.

“Why’d you transform into me?”

Sasuke shrugged, not in the mood to explain that he was too weak to protect himself without misdirection. “Naruto, listen to me. Some ANBU might come. If they do, you need to run, do you understand? Don’t let them close to you.”

“Huh…? ANBU? Whazzat?”

Sasuke wanted to face palm. He kept forgetting the dobe didn’t have parents that had used to discuss village secrets over the dinner table.

“People with masks, dobe.”

“Oooh! I used to have people like that following me around all the time while I was in the Academy! I think jiji told ‘em to! They kept telling Iruka-sensei where I was whenever I pulled pranks.”

Well, that was… Sasuke wasn’t sure how to feel about Naruto having an ANBU detail of his own. It made sense, if he really was the kyubi’s host… jailer? Madara, he could feel a headache coming on. Couldn’t the damn idiot not have mentioned something sooner?

“Hey, isn’t that guy over there one of those mask people? I think I recognize his smell! He was one of the people who used to follow me around!”

Sasuke paused, surprised. So Akiha Nara had made ANBU before sixteen? Damn it. That was less than three years older than him! It also explained why he’d seemed to know Naruto.

“He’s the one who told me the other ANBU might come for you, dobe. You need to leave.”

“Hah, teme. If you think I’m gonna quit, you’ve got another thing coming!”

They battled against the sand beast for what seemed like hours (though likely was closer to a quarter of one), by the end of which Sasuke was nearing desperation. He couldn’t see, the monster was immune to his fire jutsu and it was impossible to properly throw weapons or set up traps without eyesight. Meanwhile, the Nara was at a disadvantage because of his chakra exhaustion and general bad shape, whereas the dobe had been fighting the longest, so he was low on chakra and injured to bat – probably the worst off. Sasuke began to believe that they wouldn’t leave the hospital alive.

“Damn, if only I had my shuriken, you stupid sand blob!” the Nara hissed from somewhere above him. Sasuke could feel him moving around the Shukaku quickly, the wind howling in his wake. He could tell from his sensory skills that the Nara’s chakra reserves were almost empty – dangerously so – since his lack of weapons was falling him to fall back only on ninjutsu.

“Here, take mine!” Naruto shouted. He must have thrown his weapons pouch, because seconds later came the Nara’s stunned voice:

“Why… why would you give this to me?”

Naruto made another batch of shadow clones and continued fighting without batting an eyelash. “It’s called teamwork, duh!” A pause, then the blonde appeared next to where Sasuke was throwing fireballs at where he guessed the Shukaku’s face was.

“Hey teme, I don’t get it! Why wouldn’t you give that guy some of your weapons? You’re not even using them!”

“I might need them,” Sasuke rebuked. He had thought about it, but the Nara hadn’t asked… and well, he already had his mirror shard kunai, right?

“Are you kidding me?!” Naruto burst out. “What would Kakashi-sensei say to that, Sasuke?!” He sounded outraged, which in turn irritated Sasuke.

“The Nara’s not our teammate!” he justified.

“Of course he’s our teammate! We’re literally fighting a giant sand monster together! If that doesn’t make us teammates, I don’t know what will!”

“Hey, it’s fine, Naruto.” One of the Nara’s three shadow clones landed next to them, apparently having heard their argument.

“No it’s not!”

“Yeah, it is.” The Nara’s clone sent a hail of Naruto’s shuriken (Sasuke’ could tell because they were lazed with wind chakra) at the Shukaku. “If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t want to give a stranger my shuriken either. It’s putting yourself in a position of weakness.”

“Hah? What are you on about! That’s literally the opposite of how teamwork works! If the team’s stronger, you’re stronger!”

The Nara sighed. “Kid, that only applies for those with the fortune of being integrated into so called dream teams. When you’re with a stranger, it’s better not to give them all your weapons for no reason. If push comes to shove, they’ll try to save their own ass with the backup you’ve provided and you get to die a trusting moron.”

“That’s not true!”

“Hm.”

“Even if you die, it wouldn’t be in vain!” Naruto shouted.

“Ah, yes. You upheld the shining value of team work for the people who abandoned you, so it’s all worth it.” His words were heavily lazed with sarcasm.

“If you go in with that mindset, of course people are gonna abandon you, you prick!”

Sasuke wanted to tell them both that they had more interesting things to focus on, but he really needed a breather and the dobe and Nara’s various shadow clones were buying them one, so he figured he should probably just leave the two bickering idiots to it. The dobe wouldn’t shut up even if Sasuke told him to, anyway.

“Yeah? Well maybe I have this mindset for a reason.”

“Yeah, well maybe it’s a pretty stupid reason!”

“I have had teammates try to backstab me often enough to politely disagree with that,” the Nara spat.

There was a pause, Naruto having stopped short.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve had teammates who tried to backstab me often enough,” the Nara repeated, more slowly.

 

---

 

Akiha looked at Naruto with confusion. The vehemence of the blonde's arguments in favor of teamwork had surprised him. He had always thought that if anyone would be able to sympathise with his situation, it would be Naruto. Naruto who had always had it way harder, even than Akiha himself. Being the host of the Kyubi was in an entirely different category than being a bastard son. He had never managed to connect with anyone, had never had anyone who loved him unconditionally, and yet Naruto apparently had, since Akiha had last seen him. Enough so that he would defend teamwork with such conviction. It surprised him, made him feel inferior, for never achieving the same, even though he was older and had had it easier. 

There had been Shikaku-oji, once upon a time. Once upon a time, Shikaku-oji had been his world. He had taken Akiha in and raised him discreetly, out of the sight of the village’s eyes, yes, but kindly. And yet, then he had married and had a child. His wife had demanded he move in with her when Akiha was four, and Shikaku-oji had told her that Akiha had a right to live with them too, but starting then, he had felt like an outcast. Perhaps it was also because he wasn’t so young anymore, but he had begun to notice the looks others would give him, begun to notice the side-glances from Yoshino-san, or how everyone coddled Shikamaru, the true son, while Akiha was treated like a dirty little secret. Like something to be ashamed of.

Yoshino would nag at her child to go to the market with her to buy groceries, and Shikamaru would complain and drag his feet all the way. On that walk, friends of the family and vendors alike would coo at Shikamaru, and his mother would puff up in pride and ruffle his hair and call him lazy but be secretly glowing. Then there was Akiha. Always told to stay inside, and especially within the clan limits, which just made his desire to be out of them all the stronger. Starting from a young age, he had spent most of his time away from the clan’s side glances and whispered conversations, sheltered in the deep forest’s peace and calm, where the animals could neither judge nor gossip.

And yet it hurt. It hurt so damn much. Shikaku would fondly call him a lone wolf and ruffle his hair, and Yoshino would say something about it being a good trait for a ninja to have, but never scold him for being antisocial, or missing dinner, or going out on walks after dark. He wasn’t her son, after all. He wasn’t her business.

When Shikamaru was four, he beat an adult at shogi for the first time, and it was all the Nara clan would talk about for an entire week. A few days later, Akiha played a match with the same clan member, and lost by a far, far margin. His chest had constricted painfully, as the man looked at him with hidden contempt. He tried so badly not to cry, but he couldn’t hold it back. They were outside, visible to other clan members, many of whom were looking at him, enjoying the show, and the humiliation made his blood boil. He screamed at the man that he was a dumbhead – rather juvenile, yes, but he’d been eight – and that had only made people snicker. Perhaps to them, it was funny.

He didn’t realize it at the time, but later he thought that it wasn’t really the stupid shogi game that had made him lose it. It wasn’t even the man’s contemptuous gaze, or the way he had beaten Akiha so mercilessly when his four year-old-cousin had won, and that the man had probably done that on purpose, to make him look inferior to his cousin … it was everything else. He didn’t remember getting up, but apparently he did, and he didn’t remember calling upon his chakra, but apparently he did.
All he remembered was what came after: the increased side glances and whispers, the way Yoshino would keep barging into the room whenever he was alone with his cousin, the way the elders argued that he shouldn’t be allowed to learn the Nara clan’s jutsu… and the way Shikaku-oji-san didn’t scold him at all, for breaking the shogi board. The way he had stopped scolding him after day.

He hadn’t been the most popular kid around to begin with, but after that episode, the clan children cast him out. The forest was the only place of the clan he spend time in with regularity. But there, though he liked the calm, he hated the silence. The lack of noise. The lack of people. He started avoiding the forest.

By the time he was ten, his favorite haunt was the rooftop of a popular cafe, listening to the people down bellow and playing around with paper airplanes. Making airplanes was one of his favorite pastimes. He liked throwing them and watching how they would soar – some, more prone to areal acrobatics than others. He got a lot of satisfaction using his chakra to make them do cooler acrobatics, something no one had taught him. Other times, he tried to reverse engineer his family jutsu by watching other Nara practice in the clan training ground, but they would always give him dirty looks, so he didn’t get very far. He still liked to play with his shadow thought. That, and look at the jonin returning from missions that often went to grab a quick bite, or traveled to and fro over the rooftops. What would his life be like, if his father were one of them? What had his father been like? Would his father have loved him like Shikaku-oji loved Shikamaru?

Akiha had hated his cousin, he had hated him badly, but he never allowed himself to be mean to him. He loved oji-san too much for that. He also hated himself for being so desperate for love that he’d do anything just for a scrap of his uncle’s attention – not that he’d ever let it show – but it was still pathetic.

The saddest part was, the only person in that household who loved Akiha with all of his heart, with every fiver of himself, the one whose eyes lit up whenever he came into the room, the one who would seek him out whenever Akiha was in the compound… that was Shikamaru. He had a tendency of tracking him down whenever he wasn’t in the compound (which was more often than not) and lie down on the rooftop with him while Akiha crafted and threw his paper airplanes.

He was the only person. The only one who didn’t freak Akiha like a pariah. It got to the point where he asked his Academy  sensei for early graduation, thinking that maybe, as a genin, making friends would be easier. He got his wish, and it was the worst thing that ever happened to him. Both of his genin teammates happened to be Nara, just like his jonin sensei. Now, Akiha may be an idiot, at least according to the rumors about him, but even he could tell that his team wasn’t normal: it wasn’t normal that he got only Nara on the team, it wasn’t normal that even his sensei was a Nara, and it wasn’t normal that their team wasn’t listed as one of the nine graduating teams, but rather called to a seperate meeting room, with a seperate team number, and teammates that weren’t from his class. And it was all, he knew, because of him. Because he was the clan’s dirty little secret, and they didn’t want it getting out. How hard had they begged the hokage to make this exception for them? What had they even bargained with? Had his uncle lead the negotiations?

As was to be expected, Akiha’s new teammates whispered behind his back, and his sensei probably did too with the adults, since the entire clan seemed to find out whenever he made even the smallest mistake during training by the time Akiha got home from throwing air planes.

Shikaku-oji tented to act like he didn’t hear about many of Akiha’s mistakes and dumb judgement calls, or how he couldn’t even manipulate his shadow (not that they’d taught him how, the bastards), or how he was a null at strategy,  but Akiha knew he knew. They all did.

The only person he felt didn’t judge him, didn’t whisper, didn’t put on a facade, was his cousin. Shikamaru he could fall back on, Shikamaru he could count on to look at him with such trusting, brown eyes, that it was easy to forget all the slurs and glares hurled at him. Somewhere along the way, his ever-hated cousin became the most important person in Akiha’s life, more so than oji-san.

Shikamaru was the only good thing about Akiha’s day to day. He had hated his genin team so much that he had trained himself to exhaustion in order to make chunin as soon as possible. And he did make chunin by the time he was eleven, but it didn’t get better. He was still forced to go on missions with his old teammates, and even the few times he was placed in a new team, he had the feeling that the people already disliked him before he could even open his mouth.

He began to act nonchalant about it, told himself that he didn’t care; they were strangers, and he was a lone wolf anyway. He had gotten very good at lying to himself.

Then, things changed again. He was sent on a mission where his entire team was almost killed, and an ANBU squad which had apparently been in the area, only just managed to save their asses.

He heard later that the mission captain, the infamous Hatake Kakashi, had praised Akiha to the heavens in his report, stating that he was essentially responsible for saving everyone who had been on that team. It was something no one had ever said before. Suddenly, all the chunin who had been with him on the team collectively decided that if Hatake said so, obviously it must be so, and that Akiha was a child prodigy. It was strange, unexpected. While Akiha knew, intelectually, that he had played a large part in holding the enemy off long enough for them to arrive, he had done similar things before and no one had batted an eyelash. And yet, the most infamous ninja in the village had. Akiha had bribed a chunin at the administration desk into letting him see the man’s supposedly glowing report. It had been the most praise Akiha had ever had directed at him in his entire life.

 

[…] thanks to the chunin’s intervention we were  alerted about to emergency situation. I must commend his creativity in using an advanced wind technique to scatter little paper planes around the area with the words “help” and the team’s  coordinates (written in the basic Konoha standard cypher) for us to facilitate tracking them. I can affirm beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was thanks to that chunin’s quick thinking that his team survived. He did a great job […]

Yes. Akiha may have received several lacerations in his last ditch effort to buy the team time, many of which would become ugly scars, but it had been so worth it. He’d made a copy of the report and stolen the original to frame on his wall.  

The high of suddenly being recognized by his peers wore off when the next slew of missions was riddled with failures. On one his sandal snapped at the worst possible time and he had to complete the mission barefoot. On another he must’ve eaten something funny because he was constipated the entire mission, much to his teammate’s amused disgust. On yet another mission, he lost his kunai pouch and couldn’t find it. And so it continued. He started to get injured a lot more frequently.

Again, he may not be the smartest, but he had known for a long time that the world was out to get him. Still, he closed his eyes to the realization that he was being sabotaged for as long as he could, chose to believe it was simply a lack of skill, a continuation of unfortunate coincidences. He was an unlucky guy, that’s all.

The last straw was when Shikamaru grumbled that he kept getting sent to the hospital and it was a drag to come visit him without his mother finding out. “Cousin, you’re a drag,” he’d said, pouting childishly. “I hate stairs. Are you sure you aren’t getting hit on purpose so you can slack off here?”

Akiha had given him an annoyed look. Shikamaru was probably the only person he allowed himself to act annoyed in front of. “You know, Shikamaru… getting  your leg broken is the worst. And the food here sucks balls. And the room is drafty, and no one ever visits me but you. Why would I want to be stuck here?”

Shikamaru paused at that. He hummed. “Oh. I thought you were. I mean… it’s almost like there’s a pattern to it.”

“What do you mean?” Akiha had sat up.

Shikamaru began to count on his fingers. “Hospital, mission that goes well, then mission that goes not so well, then mission you get injured on. Then hospital again, mission that goes well, and so on.”

Akiha’s eyes widened.

Well. He wasn’t about to tell his cousin he was right.

“Ah, Shikamaru, don’t be so pattern-crazy!” he gave the younger kid a noogie. “You sometimes see things that aren’t there. Honest. It’s just, after three missions suit, I’m more tired. I’m pretty young for a chunin, it’s normal that my performance decreased the less rested I am.”

Shikamaru, as a child, had listened to the words that came out of Akiha’s mouth as if they were gospel, so he had believed the white lie easily. Perhaps, if he hadn’t, he would have told his father.

(Akiha, of course, had assumed that Shikaku-oji-san already knew. He was an adult, he always knew everything. He had never bothered to say anything to his uncle, and neither had Shikamaru.)

 

When he reached age fourteen and was still somehow, miraculously, alive, he was summoned by the elders of his clan. He was old enough by then to know that it had to be them who were plotting to have him… removed. He hoped it was them, for his own sanity.

He was surprised, when instead of throttling him or poisoning him (not that he accepted their proffered tea) they ‘offered’ him a position in ANBU. Their justification for it was that the oldest of the Uchiha clan had accepted a position in ANBU as well and that he had made ANBU captain at twelve. (They didn’t mention that he had subsequently gone batshit insane and murdered his entire clan. ) According to the elders, it was Akiha’s duty to uphold his clan’s honor and join ANBU. Their offer had confirmed his worst fears: he already knew they were out for his blood, but now he knew that his uncle must be as well. There was no way Shikaku didn’t know about them offering him a place in ANBU development. He must know Akiha’s chances of dying in the organization were high and yet he hadn’t even tried to dissuade him from joining. It had hit him then: he was indifferent. This was something he’d been suspecting for a long time, but the undeniable proof hurt so damn much, he couldn’t even put it into words.

He had acted out then, no longer able to trust a teammate, any teammate, time again he had been reprimanded by his superiors by his ‘uncooperative ways’, and then, when that didn’t work, by Shikaku himself. And that was just rich, wasn’t it? Because he must know full well that his teammates had a bit of a track record of attempt-assassinating him, and he may have survived his chunin years through sheer willpower, but not the strongest desire to live in the world would save him if ANBU-level shinobi decided to gang up on him. And so, Akiha had continued to distrust his teammates, never lowering his guard during missions, and Shikaku’s need to lecture him about his selfish ways had grown with every passing report of his so-called misconduct.

To make one thing clear, Akiha wouldn’t have cared if it had been anyone else. He had learned not to expect love to be freely given by strangers – at least not to him. But his oji-san? The man who had cleaned his injuries when he was young, hit him with a newspaper on the head for his bad mouthing of shogi, who had carried him on his shoulders, who often, during autumn, would point out the maple tree in their garden and tell Akiha about his father and how he’d named him after the autumn leaves…

The thought that this man hated him was enough to break him. And so Akiha had screamed, and broken a cup, and flared his killing intent out of sheer anger, and shouted that he hated Shukaku, he hated him, fuck you! Fuck everything! and Shikaku had taken a deep breath through his nose, and, jaw trembling, told him that he was a bad influence on Shikamaru, that he wanted his son not to turn out like him, and that he didn’t want Akiha talking to Shikamaru unless he straightened out his act and become a team player. More like: unless he let himself be murdered by his teammates. They were probably on the Nara clan’s payroll, anyway.

And so, Akiha Nara was now alone in the world. He cut his hair, something long overdue, and used his income to rent a small flat over the café with the cheer and noise. Some would argue it was disadvantageous to get a flat over such a noise and busy area, but Akiha had picked the location for that exact purpose. Now, he was fully distanced from the Nara clan. He no longer looked like them, he did not act like them, or know their jutsu. He didn’t live with them, either. He wasn’t one of them, his name a parody, a lie. But hadn’t it always been?

He wasn’t like Naruto. He had been given a family, but he’d screwed that up fantastically. He hadn’t been good enough to gain Shikaku’s love, wasn’t good enough for Shikamaru either, apparently, and so – so – well. You reap what you saw, he supposed. It was his fault, in a way.

 

Now, standing in a battle ground, to the backdrop of the raging Shukaku, Akiha’s eyes fixed on Naruto. The blonde who was so similar to him, and yet not at all. Naruto who looked like he'd been slapped after Akiha told him his teammates had attempted to kill him, as if it weren't par de course. Sometimes, Akiha forgot that not everyone's teammates did that.

 

---

 

“Man, I… no way," the dobe chocked, staring at the Nara with shock.

“Yes way,” replied the other, his voice waring oddly.

“But why? I don’t get it. Why would they do that to you? Try to kill you?! That's insane! They're your teammates! Teammates protect each other, they...” He trailed off.

“They were paid to do it,” the Nara said quietly. “Likely lied to, about me. They thought they were acting for the good of the village, I am sure."

"No, man. Who thinks that?" Naruto spat. "Why would they even think that? What possible reason could anyone have to order having a good guy killed!?"

"It's flattering that you think of me like that," said the Nara. "As for the reason... My late father was the heir of the Nara clan, but he died, so now his brother is the head. As I am the original heir’s son, that would give me the right to take his position, and the elders don’t want that. That’s why… they want me out of the way.”

There was a silence. “You’re telling me…” Naruto growled, “that your teammates have been accepting bribes to kill you?! From you own clan?!”

“Pretty much.”

“But that’s…”

“I don’t know why you look so surprised, Naruto,” the Nara said. “You, more than anyone, should know that some people draw the short stick of life.” Naruto must have had some kind of expression on his face, because the Nara seemed to immediately become flustered. “Hey, uh, don’t give me that look. I think your teamwork philosophy is… well, it’s commendable. It just… doesn’t work for me. But if it works for you–”

“No,” Naruto spat. “No, it…” Was he crying? “I just, I really wanna be hokage, okay? And I know no one’s gonna want me as their hokage, but I also… I thought that if I made hokage, I wouldn’t be…! – it would make everyone respect me and want to be my friend, and it’s just – if this is what it’s like for you – and – you’re just like me. I… I have the odds stacked against me too, you know?”

“Naruto–”

“And it’s not fair. I can’t control it! You can’t control it! It’s not fair that they hate us for something that happened when we were born. But I thought… after becoming a member of team seven, after they accepted me, I thought if Kakashi-sensei, and Sakura-chan, and heck, even the teme could like me – I thought if I worked hard enough, and if I was kind enough, and helped everyone enough, that I could be everyone’s friend… everyone’s teammate. Their hokage. I thought that they’d give me their kunai too, in a pinch, and eat ramen with me, and everything.” He was definitely crying. Sasuke swallowed thickly. “But you’re older, and cool, and nice, you know? You even saved the teme’s ass despite how he was being a jerk who wouldn’t give you his kunai – and you’re telling me some jackasses are trying to murder you in the middle of a mission?! Your own teammates? Is this how kindness gets repaid? Just because of who your father was?! It’s not fair! If you can’t earn your teammates’ respect – maybe I can’t do it either!”

 

---

Akiha stared at Naruto in utter surprise. He had never really shared his resentment toward the village with anyone, not so openly. Yes, he had said something to Kakashi, and to his ANBU captain when he lectured him about teamwork, but they’d all reacted by implying he was a selfish jerk. And yet Naruto… he swallowed. He wasn’t even sure what had possessed him, an ANBU who never told anyone anything, to open up to a twelve-year-old genin, about it – but it had felt good. So, so damn good. He had finally had someone he could spill his guts to, someone who wasn’t trying to scold him or make him feel inferior for his actions – no, Naruto had been outraged on his behalf, had shared his pain, had understood it on a visceral level, like no one else had before.

Something deep within Akiha trembled. He had never felt so close to anyone in this life, and yet the first time he’d so much as talked to Naruto was minutes ago. But it had been enough. With his words, the blonde had touched some deeply hidden part of him – in just a breath, just two senses, he had managed what no one had in sixteen years. A genin, not a superior, not a family member, just a blonde boy and the intense look in his eyes.

This boy, Naruto, was full of life and hope, had been, until Akiha had trampled all over it. He had thought he could make the rest of the village grow to respect him as his teammates did, but the way Akiha saw it, Naruto had already achieved so much than he ever had.

Because Naruto had had it so much worse than Akiha, and yet he endured. He would know, he had been the boy’s ANBU guard for many long hours. He knew Naruto rather well by now, had seen many of his exploits at the Academy, and the empty flat, and the tile that never had been replaced, and he had at one point, passing by, accidentally set off an explosion tag close enough to the flat that the blast just so happened to destroy the mold-ridden sink and the closet with the termites. That had been around a year ago, and afterward, the hokage had forbidden him from being on Naruto’s guard platoon anymore. Akiha had been stuck with the missions outside the village, ones where the chances of something happening were much higher, but he’d been pleased with the new closet Naruto had gotten, so he’d figured it was worth it.

He had met Naruto’s sensei later on. Kakashi, the one person who had treated him with kindness during his chunin years, but likely didn’t remember it – another character worthy of his admiration. And after meeting Uchiha Sasuke – and even that pink-haired girl who had faked spraining her foot to a sannin’s face – he could say the same about the other members team seven. And Naruto had won these people over. No, they weren’t alike after all. And… he would hate to crush Naruto’s dream with his bitching.

“Actually… you’ve changed my mind.”

Naruto glanced at him, eyes widening. Even Sasuke seemed surprised.

“Huh?” Naruto asked.

“You’ve changed my mind. I would probably be toast without those kunai you gave me, kid, which makes your logic sound.”

“Wait… you’re changing your mind about a life-long belief because he lent you some kunai?” Sasuke asked incredulously.

Akiha chuckled. “What can I say. They’re really nice kunai.” He turned toward Naruto, whose lips were stretching into a foxy grin.

“You mean it?”

“I do. And I think, Naruto, that if you could convince me to support teamwork of all things, there isn’t anyone you can’t get through to.”

“Heck yeah!” Naruto shouted, eyes shining excitedly. “YOU’RE THE BEST! TEAMWORK’S THE BEST! KAKASHI-SENSEI’S THE BEST! MY KUNAI ARE THE BES – GAH!” He was hit by a huge clump of sand and proceeded to smash into a wall. “Ow.”

---

Chapter 35: Final Stand

 

Sasuke looked in Naruto’s direction and frowned. The idiot had been hit by one of Shukaku’s attacks because he’d been too busy cheering over the Nara’s change of heart. Personally, Sasuke thought the Nara must be a pretty indecisive person to just change his life motto for no reason like that, but to each their own, he figured. It wasn’t any of his business. What was this business was that most of the dobe’s clones had been popped, and the Nara was almost completely drained of chakra. Emotional chitchat aside, they were in deep shit.

Wait. He strained his senses. An influx of chakra signatures approaching the hospital. They were similar, strong, and resolute. Forget deep shit, they were beyond that, On top of everything, now they’d have to deal with enemy backup. It was over.

Sasuke could feel the coming shinobi running up the outside wall of the building and toward the rooftop. Damn it. Damn it. One of the Nara’s clones shot off like a bullet in the direction the enemy was coming from, likely to hold them off so they could escape. The actual Nara was busy with Shukaku, though Sasuke knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the beast busy for long in this state.

“Naruto! We need to leave!” he shouted, his voice tinted with desperation.

“Never!” Naruto bellowed. “I have to save the people here! That’s my ninja way!”

“We’re going to die, you idiot!”

“We? More like me! You leave, if you’re such a scaredycat! But let me tell you something, teme: the Sasuke I know would never run off with his tail between his legs!”

Sasuke’s knuckles tensed, his teeth gritted, and he squared his shoulders. His face smoothed out. He forced his chest to heave out the air and tension building inside. Naruto was right. What would his chances at revenge be if even the dobe was more of a man than him?

“Fine,” Sasuke spat, fingers flying through the handsigns. “We have one chance at killing them all, Naruto. I’m going to create a fireball large enough to burn them all to a crisp, you use your clones to pin them im place so they can’t dodge it.”

“T-teme?!” Naruto stuttered. “What do you mean kill?”

“Well what else is there? Give them a handshake? Stop being an idiot and make those clones, idiot!”

“But teme–”

“Best not do that,” a different voice cut in. It was the Nara. “Those guys coming here? Sheepy, they aren’t the enemy at all.” He clapped his hands gleefully. “I know some of them… and if I’m not mistaken, our asses are about to be saved!”

Naruto made a strange noise. “Did he just call you–?”

“Shut up, dobe!” Sasuke snarled. They were saved. The village had sent backup.

In that instant, the distant chakra signatures reached them just as a plethora of battle cries did Whoever this was, they were no measly genin. And then the chakra signatures sprang unto the rooftop, dozens of pairs of footsteps landing with agility as blades klinked and the air whizzed with thrown shuriken and kunai. And amongst all that chaos, Naruto shouted:

“Hey, you! You’re that weird girl from class, what’s your face. Uh…”

Sasuke’s interest peaked and he turned. A quiet, femenine voice followed:

“N-Narut-to-kun… I-I hope we’re not t-too late…”

Sasuke’s mouth almost fell open. Hyuga Hinata?!

“Nah, just on time! Not that I would’ve let Gaara beat me, believe it!”

“W-well, I know b-but I think it’s better if we help you…”

“What are you doing here?” Sasuke cut in suspiciously. That girl wasn’t able to harm a fly, never mind another human being. What the hell was she doing at the helm of the reinforcements squadron?

“Ah – um – that is…”

“Get on with it, we don’t have all day.”

“Hey, teme, don’t be such a jerk!”

The girl’s chakra seemed to practically go into full bloom at this thoughtless declaration. Sasuke wanted to sneer in disgust. He knew the Hyuga was infatuated with the dobe – everyone knew. Naturally, he had assumed that the dobe, being the object of her affections (and stalking) would have figured it out too and had simply ignored the Hyuga’s disgusting amorous attentions as she was so obviously his inferior. Apparently, however, the dobe was just oblivious. Sasuke snorted. Leave it to the dobe to miss something as glaringly obvious as this. Now… for some reason the image of the dobe and the Hyuga girl holding hands and being all… kissy… made him want to throw himself out of a window, and worse, knowing the dobe, he would probably not stop talking Sasuke’s ears off about it during missions, which he wanted to avoid if at all possible. Yes, he needed to make sure the dobe didn’t find out about Hyuga’s infatuation.

“I’m not being a jerk, idiot. It’s just strange that the Hyuga is here, don’t you think? She’s a genin. Why would she be on our back up squad?”

“Oh, you’re right teme! You! You’re an impostor, aren’t you! I knew there was something off about you all along, I was just playing along to lull you into a false sense of security!”

“N-no!” the Hyuga exclaimed. “Y-you’ve g-got it w-wrong, N-Narut-to-k-kun!” Her stuttering had gotten significantly worse. Sasuke inwardly smirked.

“Then why are you stuttering so much? You seem a little… nervous.”

“Yeah, what he said!”

“I-I-I–” The Hyuga burst into crocodile tears. Sasuke wanted to scoff at her. And here he had thought it’d be impossible for her to reach a new low…

“Hey, teme, I think maybe she’s actually our classmate,” Naruto whispered loudly.

Who cares, Sasuke wanted to snap. She was unwanted here either way. They were in a battleground, for fuck’s sake. Surely there were other moments she could try to cozy up to Naruto? Key word being try, of course. Sasuke would like to see her getting anywhere with the dobe. Also, yes, they weren’t currently involved in the fighting, having moved to a safer area a ways off, as the more qualified ninja had now taken over, but still. The Hyuga could bugger off.

“S-sakura-chan s-said the h-hospital needed help,” the onion-hair stuttered out.

Now that was more interesting. “She did?” Sasuke inquired, at the same time as Naruto shouted: “You guys are here because of Sakura-chan?!”

“Y-yes to both.”

“How did Sakura know we needed help?” Sasuke pressed.“And where is she?”

“I… do-don’t know. She just t-told me to bri-bring the c-clan here… Um. And she w-went to the Academy, I-I think.”

“Thanks! You’re a life saver, uh…” Naruto made his math problem face. “What was your name again?”

“H-hyug-ga H-Hinata!” the girl squeaked.

“Cool. I’m Uzumaki Naruto, future hokage of Konoha!” The dobe proclaimed.

“Y-yeah. I-I know,” the Hyuga said. Sasuke sure hoped did, stalking him as she did. Weird. He would have been making this inner commentary about the Hyuga regardless of Ino’s influence, thought the voice in his head did sound surprisingly like something she might say. Damn blondes.

“Dobe,” Sasuke said, getting Naruto to look away from the Hyuga. “This is good news.”

“Uh-huh!” Naruto nodded avidly, eyes gleaming. “We can go rescue Sakura now!”

“Hn. The Academy is next to the evacuation tunnels, idiot. Sakura is obviously out of danger already.”

“Oh!”

“Yes, oh.”

Sasuke was pleased with the developments. Sakura was fine and upholding team seven’s honor by commandeering the entirety of the Hyuga clan to battle – namely their battle – which was a feat not even he was sure he could have managed. But only because those tosspot Hyuga disliked Uchiha on principle, of course. Still. It wasn’t every day someone managed to coerce the snobbish Hyuga into saving an Uchiha. More so since, well, Sakura was a civilian. The dobe may be blind to what that entailed but Sasuke was not – so how had Sakura manged it? Though, he supposed if anyone could, it was her. His teammate may seem like she was a wimp at first, but once you got to know her, she had a talent for challenging people’s expectations of her. Yes. Team seven was the best team of Konoha, no questions asked, Sasuke thought proudly.

If something happened to the dobe or Sakura, he would add whoever was responsible to his black list, no questions asked; be it a lowly genin or Orochimaru himself.

---

 

Río had tried everything. She was tired. Nothing seemed to be working. At this point, all she wanted to do was sit her ass down and rest, but of course the nidaime had other ideas. The  lack of fur coat did not make getting a hit in any easier.  It had eventually dawned on her  that if she kept her current strategy, she would soon be too tired to continue running from the guy. She’d still not so much as have scratched him, as he put it – which was mortifying. She may not want to die today but she still had her pride too. Just – no. Rio realized she would need to do something drastic if she wanted to win. Her mind abilities allowed her to predict where Hashirama’s deadly branches would grow and so she’d have a large advantage if she took the fight to his tree.  

It was the most dangerous high area she could think of, it was away from the murderous puddle and would also put Tobirama against his brother somewhat. Who knows? He might get stabbed by a branch or something. With this thought she turned tail and sprinted up the tree, dodging growing branches and flying agents in the process. In the distance, she saw her father giving her a horrified look and shouting something (was it at her?) but there was no time to double back to check. With some quick handsigns, she shot a bunch of water bullets at the nidaime, hoping to finally get a hit on the guy now that her father was looking. To her utter dismay, Tobirama made a single handsign with one hand and proceeded to stop the projectiles in midair – to then absorb the floating water into himself like a human sponge mutant!

…what the fuck.

She was literally so done with this fight.

So. Fucking. Done.

All of her best attacks required the use of water jutsu – and the guy could just absorb it. She tried throwing around a water dragon and a bunch of water whips for good measure, but he assimilated the liquid into himself just as easily as before. In short, if she hadn’t been before, now she was certain: she was doomed. At once she jumped into the very thick of the shodaime’s battle against the green-clad man, Kinoue and some other ANBU, hoping Tobirama would get skewered as she dodged around branches and flying weapons alike. She had the advantage of foresight but he didn’t. To her dismay, the guy didn’t even appear mildly irritated as he followed her around – his thoughts not even on the battle.

‘I wonder if that sword will ever come off her hair. The blade was well forged.’

Oh for fuck’s sake. She wanted to shake him angrily. The sad thing was, he wasn’t even being disrespectful on purpose.

‘On that note, what is this Root thing mentioned earlier? Perhaps Hiruzen or Danzo could tell me… also, what is Danzo waiting for? Is he going to attack that Orochimaru man or not? His death wouldn’t end the edo tensei but I admit it would please me to see the snake’s head on a pike. Hm, perhaps I could set off an explosion tag in his  face whilst pretending to attack this Río woman. She would probably find some way to make that snake collateral.’

No she wouldn’t! Was he insane? Explosions on top of everything else were the last thing she needed!

The only mildly useful thought she got from the nidame was that the katana dangling off her braid made chasing behind her annoying, as the bladed end kept threatening to skewer him whenever she turned her head. (It was rather sad that this was Tobirama’s greatest worry in regards to her.) Only then, the man just had to go and start asking himself more questions about Root.

‘Judging by the yondaime’s comment, this… Río is a member of the Root… organization? – is that what it is? – and yet she is wearing ANBU gear… perhaps Root is a new branch of ANBU then? A poetic name. But why would there be a need for a new branch of ANBU? Call me conservative, but I don’t like it.’

The nidaime was way too perceptive for his own good. Río had been too busy listening to that line of thought and almost forgot that he was a master multi-thinker. She paid the price of her inattention with a punch that almost hit, forcing her to jump off the branch and free-fall for a few stories, though she caught herself by slinging a water whip around one of the lower branches. She had almost stopped her fall when her control over the water whip slipped, the water being stolen from her and, though she somehow managed to touch down on the ground in one piece and on her feet, her heart was pounding erratically. That had been a close call. A few seconds later, the nidaime followed suit, landing lithely as a cat. She remembered he was wearing a twenty pound armor and felt the strong urge to cry.

“Can you at least warn me before you go stealing my water whips?” she asked through ragged breaths.

“I can only absorb water from a certain distance, so you should be fine if you manage to put around twenty meters between us,” the man ‘reassured’ her.

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Río hissed. “My fastest means of transport is by swinging around with my water whips, which I cannot use no thanks to you, you – you water thief!”

He gave her an unamused look. ‘She is a menace. At this point I am beginning to question how someone so disrespectful ever became Danzo’s student. She did say she wasn’t… Odd. I had thought it was an evasion tactic, but… could she have been telling the truth? What is the meaning of this? Why would Danzo have lied to me?’

‘No, Tobirama, stop being so suspicious of people,’ the nidaime argued with himself. ‘I know my lack of trust in others is my greatest fault.’

What did that say about Danzo, Río wondered.

“Er – nidaime-sama? Can’t you just tell me how to beat you or something?” she asked hopefully. Maybe a more direct approach would be better.

Thankfully that stopped him from continuing to draw conclusions about Root. “There are no shortcuts in battle. You should know this, woman.”

Sigh. Did he have to be so difficult?

“That’s not true,” Río argued. “There’s always something, some chink in people’s armors. Like your fur coat,” she added as an afterthought. “I can’t believe you hid so much shit in there. Didn’t it get dirty?”

His eye twitched. Maybe she should stop taunting him since it clearly wasn’t working.

‘That fur coat belonged to Mother,’ the man thought. ‘It shouldn’t matter that it was destroyed, as I am long dead and so is she… but its loss hurts. I suppose this Rio may be more correct than she knows.’ 

Wait… what? She had… she had exploded his family heirloom?

…damn. It wasn’t like the for coat’s absence had even helped her all that much in the long run. Now she felt like the worst person on earth.

“I–it’s a very nice fur coat though! And I’m sure it wasn’t dirty or anything! You look like a neat freak anyways!”

“Excuse me.”

“Not a neat freak! I mean a tidy guy! Yes. That! Er, I could try to buy you a new fur coat and… bring it to your gravestone?” If I survive.

‘Wha…’ Tobirama blinked at her. ‘She keeps switching between insulting me and then offering to buy me things… Is she on her period or something.’

That… that chauvinistic pig! “I take it back! I’m not buying you shit!

‘Even more mood swings… does she have schizophrenia.’

Deep breaths, Río. Deep breaths.

“So… are you gonna tell me about your weaknesses – yes or no?”

Tobirama eyed her warily. ‘If the Hyuga had asked, I would. This woman though… she insulted my fur coat. She keeps acting arrogantly and insulting me, calling me a neat freak. No, I don’t think I will.’

Rio’s heart dropped to her stomach. Well… there went her taunting tactic. She sobered. “Nidaime-sama. Please. I know I have been acting rude toward you, but the truth is… I really respect you. I was just trying to be a pain in the ass to rile you up. You seem so strong, I didn’t think conventional tactics would work on you… but I never wanted to insult you or anything. So, uh… I’m sorry for acting like an arrogant bitch. I am taking you very seriously, even if I don’t act like it.”

“Hm. So you usually mock your opponents?”

“I do whatever I think it takes to win, hokage-sama. Usually, though? Not really. I mostly try to outlast them… wait until they run out of chakra… the works. My stamina is my strongest point, but there is no way that’s gonna work on you.”

“That is correct.” Tobirama scanned her up and down. “In my time, such a thing as taunting was seen beneath the greater warriors. My rival though – he used to try to taunt me all the time. He was one annoying Uchiha.”

Río was surprised he’d said this. “Huh. I actually got the taunting trick from an Uchiha as well. He was my best friend, though. He’d probably have done much better against you than me.”

”Really now,” said Tobirama skeptically.

”Yes. He used to mouth off to opponents a lot.  They’d either underestimate him or get angry. Then he’d kick their asses. It was great to watch.”

Tobirama swung a kunai at her, even as he seemed to recall something from his past. “One of my students was an Uchiha with that habit as well.  Though that might be my fault, in his case.” Río gave him a questioning look. “He asked me about my , and I mistakenly let it slip that what had most unnerved me him was his constant stream of chatter as we fought to our deaths. It seemed like he was unfazed. Even mortally injured, Izuna got the last word in. My student decided that this was a trait worth emulating.”

Río frowned, surprised. “That… actually sounds familiar. My Uchiha friend told me his father is who gave him the idea l… and I think he was…” She frowned. “Was your student called Kagami?”

Tobirama gave her an unreadable look. “Aren’t we getting off track here, woman?” As if to prove this, he aimed a kick at her sternum.

Río winced. “…yes.”

“I believe you were apologizing to me.”

Did he have to drag it out?

“Right. Yes. Of course.” Río gave him a dark look but forced herself to swallow her pride. “Please help me or I’m gonna die.”

As if to prove it, she was forced to dodge a very close call with a jackhammer Tobirama had been swinging about while they talked. It was true. Tobirama could absorb her water chakra, which she needed even for mind reading, and her reserves were low anyway. She had maybe five minutes of combat left in her.

The white-haired man, who had been giving her a peeved look, frowned. “I suppose it would be annoying to put up with your chatter in the Pure Lands,” he allowed archly.

In his head, though, he was singing a different tune. ‘I hadn’t realized she was at the end of her rope.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘She is serious about her request.’

“Well, if you don’t help me, I am going to chatter your ear of. Count on it.”

Tobirama ignored her attempted intimidation. “You seem like a high level shinobi to me,” he said. “I can only absorb water attacks. Don’t you know any other nature transformations to use against me. Wind, for example.”

Río swallowed her mortification. Most ANBU dominated at least two. “I… no,” she admitted with gritted teeth. “I tried. But… I can only use water release. I know it’s not the norm… and I really tried, but I just… can’t do it. I rely on water techniques for pretty much everything.”

Tobirama frowned. ‘I had a similar problem in my youth. It would be hypocritical to fault her for it, but I really wish she could just whip out something we could work with here. Though… she does not lie. I can tell that her water nature is very dominant… I have rarely seen such strong water chakra… it almost reminds me of… no, don’t be stupid.’ He frowned. ‘She would have said something if she were my descendant.’

Descendant? What was the guy on about? Rio gave him a weird look. She’d thought he didn’t have kids? Well, maybe if he thought they were related he’d go easier on her? Damn. If only she’d thought of that tactic earlier… now it’d be too obvious if she suddenly claimed being a long lost great grand kid or some shit. But did that mean the guy had had kids? Wouldn’t Danzo have mentioned it if the man had heirs? Why would Tobirama even think such a thing about her? 

Tobirama was still thinking deeply, his attempts in stabbing her almost absentminded. ‘Whatever. She can’t be my descendant, even if her chakra is eerily similar. All of them died.’

Oh, shit. That was horrible. She almost forgot to dodge a water bullet out of surprise.

‘Regardless, I don’t want to kill any Konoha nin, if I can help it,’ Tobirama’s stream of consciousness carried on. ‘Even if this woman’s constant dancing around my attacks is getting on my nerves.  The Hyuga man’s death is already one too many…’ He mentally sighed. ‘Hm. I suppose it can’t be helped. Losing to a woman will sting my pride, but I am the hokage of this village and Konoha has always been greater than me and my pride.’

Out loud, he straightened, grabbing an ax from an enemy and said: “Alright! I’ve decided to help you, disrespectful though you are, so pay attention.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded. “I will explain to you how my water-stealing technique works and how to counter it. That way I won’t be able to absorb all of your attacks anymore. Is that to your tastes?” The last part was added sarcastically.

“You’re the best, nidaime-sama!” Río whooped. “I’d hug you if I weren’t so sure you’d just stab me!”

“Hmp.” Tobirama grumbled, apparently unsure how to answer that. “Er. Continuing, my technique works by drawing from the physical and spiritual energies and using them in a kind of layered system upon the opponent’s attack. The yin chakra should be at a wavelength of about…” He went on like this for about three minutes. Three very disheartening minutes.

“Can’t you… explain it a little more simply…?” Río asked when it finally became apparent that no, she wasn’t going to understand anything.

“What was the last thing you understood.”

“Um. The part where you told me you weren’t going to make this offer twice?”

The nidaime stared at her incredulously. To his credit, he didn’t actually call her stupid and simply went on to repeat something about spiritual energies and layered gamma wavelengths.

Rio still felt super embarrassed when she didn’t understand the second explanation either. Wincing internally, she ventured: “uh, could you maybe explain it a little easier?” She was hopeless. She was pretty sure her flaming face could be seen from the other side of the room.

“What has this village’s education come to?” Tobirama muttered, making the flush on her neck even worse.

“Er. I have a learning disability?”
Most of her life, she’d had trouble learning kata, learning kanji, learning even the most basic fuinjutsu, was absolutely pants at drawing maps for other people even though her sense of orientation was great, sometimes even mistaking basic things like left and right, she couldn’t cast a genjutsu for the life of her… and the only reason she’d even learned how to read properly was because Minato-san had gotten it into his head that he’d either teach her or die trying. He had told her she had something called dyslexia, but seeing as the nidaime was staring at her blankly at the mention of it, Minato-san had likely made the term up to make her feel better about being so dumb. 

“What disability.”

“Dyslexia…” she added hesitantly. 

Rio wished she could stop reading the nidaime’s thoughts, wished she didn’t have a front row seat to finding out just how stupid he found her, but she was no longer a child and knew that turning off her jutsu would be idiotic.

‘Dyslexia? I’ve never heard that word in my life,’ Tobirama pondered. ‘Hm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to figure out what works for her. We don’t have much time; I’ll have to work my way up.’

To her surprise, the words ‘imbecile’, ‘simpleton’, ‘foolish’, ‘short’ or ‘harebrained’ did not cross his mind at all. She had been so sure Tobirama Senju of all people would look down on her… but he didn’t. 

“N-nidaime-sama?” she stuttered in surprise. She couldn’t help it. She was shocked.

“Hmp. Now you use my title? It doesn’t matter. I will explain this to you like I would my brother regardless. And he is the intellectual equivalent of a three-year-old.”

Ah, there the insult was. He had compared her to the Shodaime though, so it almost felt like a compliment rather than the jab he phrased it as.

“Hey! I heard that!” Senju Hashirama shouted in the distance.

Holly shit. Rio gaped. She had just heard the god of shinobi speak. 

“Ignore him,” Tobirama dismissed, as if talking about some wailing baby throwing a tantrum.

“Tobi, don’t ignore me,” the aforementioned god of shinobi whined from his part of the tower. “Hey miss, tell him not to ignore me!”

The fact that literally everyone must be hearing their back and forth made her cheeks go completely red.

Also: did he just address me? Rio thought dazedly. Did Hashirama Senju just acknowledge my existence? AAAAAHHH kill me now Tobirama and I won’t even care anymore gah this is–

“Oi! Pay attention,” Tobirama told her irritably. “And shut your mouth.”

‘People are going to think I’ve been taking so long to beat a complete imbecile if she keeps making that awe-struck face.’

Rio shut her mouth dazedly.

In the distance, Hashirama once again wailed: “Tobiiii!”

Tobirama’s eyebrow ticked but he still didn’t turn toward the shodaime. ‘I am not dealing with this right now.’

“No!” Hashirama wailed, clutching at his heart dramatically, “I cannot go on fighting like this! My brother doesn’t love me anymore!”

Tobirama’s jaw clenched and he turned to shoot him a foul look. “Get lost, Hashirama!”

Hashirama  became serious. “No ‘anija’? Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me, brother?”

Suddenly, Tobirama seemed to freeze. “What do you think, Hashirama?”

“But you’ve – what? Lived for twenty years since my death? – And you’re still stewing over that?” the Shodaime demanded from the other side of the tree.

“Will you cease treating it like some spat of little importance!” Tobirama shouted hotly. Yes, hotly. Tobirama monotony-queen Senju was actually showing emotions outside of his head; Río almost wanted to take a picture. 

Hashirama opened his mouth to retort something but the nidaime cut him off: “No! I don’t care what you have to say! We have already had this argument long enough, Hashirama!” 

Whilst all of this was happening, Río had been inching back, trying not to be noticed, even as she wondered whether she could maybe take advantage of Tobirama’s distraction – but then the nidaime suddenly turned on his heel, facing away from his brother, a cold expression passing over his eyes. Uh-oh.

He opened his mouth to speak and she was fearing the worst when–

“Where was I?” His voice was calm and steady. Río’s mouth almost fell open again. She could still feel the turmoil in his mind, but he had banished whatever had bothered him so to the deeper reaches of it. He answered his own question: “ah, my explanation, yes. Do you know what yin chakra is at least.”

“…er.”

“Well?” He underlined this by swinging around a chainsaw.

Río leapt back nervously. “It’s… uh, erm…” All complicated sounding words had left her. Damn it! Why couldn’t she make a good impression for once? “It’s when you, er. Like when you  separate your chakra into the little wispy part that feels more like cotton candy and it kinda comes from your brain? Uh. It’s used in genjutsu a lot.”

“Good.”

Wait, what? Rio almost gaped at him.

Tobirama’s mind was once again in full on beehive mode:  ‘I can tell from that description that she is an analogy-type of learner, with a very intuitive grasp on chakra theory. Hm… in that case…’

“Oi, Rio. Let’s put it like this: in the context of my technique, my yin chakra would resemble  a nori algae wrap, like the ones used for sushi, and your chakra would be the boiled rice it is wrapped around. To say it bluntly, I’m making sushi.”

Whut?

“In order to cancel all water nature techniques, all I need to do is change the consistency of my own chakra to resemble a nori wrap, with a necessary viscosity and malleability to completely encase your chakra, in this case the boiled rice. As I said, I’m making sushi. Maybe an oddly-shaped onigiri to absorb the big techniques like your water dragon jutsu.”

Holly smokes. Now that she thought about it, the feeling of having her water stolen actually kind of resembled a raspy nori algae messing up her jutsu!

The nidaime must have read the dawning comprehension on her face because he scoffed and said dryly: “glad this makes sense to you. Now, that is how I use my technique. In order to avoid having your water jutsu absorbed with it, all you have to do is to make your cooked rice into a shape and consistency that the nori won’t be able to stick to so easily. Think doing everything in your power to ruin someone’s sushi.”

Why couldn’t he have led with that? It sounded laughably easy when he put it in those terms. Río made her water chakra as un-sticky as she could and shaped it into a jagged pattern. “Like that?”

Tobirama gave her an exasperated look. “Yes. Like that.”

‘Thank god I learned Hashirama speak.’

Woah! The guy was totally on her wave-length! Not even Minato-san had been able to explain things this well to her! She’d totally be able to use her normal water jutsu against him now! Río had been so excited doing a mental victory dance that she was too late in noticing the hand signs the nidaime was making. A second later, seven clones were  popping into existence, all of them closing in from all sides… and Rio was too late to retract her mind reading. Eight people’s thoughts at once was the most she could handle normally, but if those eight people were the nidaime? Let’s just say that the sudden onslaught of impressions was like being hit on the head by a boulder. 

She momentarily swayed on the spot, head pounding violently, and was in the process of canceling her technique – but it was too late. During the second of distraction, Tobirama surged forward and his blade pierced through her stomach. 

She did jump back, but he was a split second faster. At first, the pain didn’t even register, but Rio could immediately tell from the look on Tobirama’s face that he’d gotten her good. It was then that she glanced down, almost apprehensively, and hunched in on herself. The movement was enough for a wave of nausea to set in. It was too early for pain, but too late for anything but death. He had brushed a kidney, piercing right through her armor.  In other words: he had landed a mortal blow. 

The nidaime took a step back, his expression shuttering. She didn’t care to find out whether the look was out of some chauvinistic views left over from his lifetime or if he actually felt bad. She did not want his pity.

“…at least you were nice enough to miss my boob this time,” Río muttered, letting herself slip to the ground. No point in prolonging the inevitable now.

The nidaime stared at her. ‘Making jokes at this time… she definitely isn’t Danzo’s student.’ He shook his head, peering down at her from above. “What is your full name.’ He scrutinized her. “Yamanaka, I would say.”

Her first impulse was to deny it, but then… who would know? At least once, she wanted to identify as one of her family’s own. “Yeah…” she admitted weakly. “Yamanaka Rio.”

“You are a good warrior, then, Yamanaka Rio. Your death will do your family proud.”

“That means a lot, hokage-sama,” she said quietly. And it did, it really did. Tobirama had been a very strong opponent: she really couldn’t have picked someone better suited to kill her… but the thing was – she didn’t want to die, period. She couldn't. This shouldn’t be happening. What would happen to – to Root – to everything she’d been doing? Who would oversee… well – the things only she did? The world faded in and out of focus. Had her windpipe not been overflowing with blood, she’d have laughed hysterically at herself. Damn. She was such a screw up.

“Guess I won’t buy you that fur coat then…”

---

Ino was crouching behind a few trees close to a greenhouse, her mother right next to her. Both of their expressions were grave. Ino’s hands trembled and tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

They were too late. They were too late. Someone had already gotten to the damned greenhouse before them – she should’ve known! Since those healing flower things (frost azalesas?) were so valuable and expensive, it was obvious that one of the first thing their invaders would do was take some for their own. Five strong-looking ninja (it was hard to tell whether they were jonin or chunin) stood inside the greenhouse they were currently watching. It was the only greenhouse that was isolated from the rest and the last they were checking. But even here there were enemies.

Shit. Shit. “Mom. We have to get that antidote for Shika,” Ino said, almost begged. “We have to.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Chihiro questioned levelly.

“I – I don’t know!” Ino exclaimed. “We just… we go in there and–”

Damn it. If Shikamaru were here instead of her, he’d know what to do! Why was she such a good for nothing?!

Chihiro sighed and stood up. “All right. I can see you really want this, Ino.”

Ino immediately perked up. “You have an idea?”

Chihiro cast a side-long glance at her. It was thoughtful. Calculating, almost, like she was trying to gauge whether Ino could shoulder the burden. Ino straightened and looked at her as determinedly as she could, until finally, her mother caved.

“Very well. I will tell you my plan. It will require your participation, as I cannot perform the mind transfer technique.” Chihiro bit her lip in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “Ino… it… the person you possess… will die.”

Suguru was pleased with today’s haul. He had been born to a rural village of grass. He had caught leper at a young age and his skin had begun to fall out in clumps since. His parents had cast him away from their home, under the guise of being a danger for his younger siblings. They had sent him to Orochimaru-sama, where Suguru had gotten various skin grafts, treatments that were free and actually worked, and met people like him. Freaks. Outcasts. Orochimaru-sama had provided a home for all of them. Yes, Suguru knew what others said about the sannin: that he was conniving, manipulative, that he only used his subjects, and so on and so forth, but honestly? Orochimaru-sama was a shinobi. There was nothing particularly surprising about any of those things. Other shinobi villages (read: Konoha) liked to call him any number of things, but in the end, Suguru had always placed more worth in actions than words. When the world abandoned him – him and all of the other so-called freaks that made up Otto’s ranks – where was Konoha? The smarmy bastards liked to brag about how morally righteous they were, but Suguru could see right through their act. Look underneath the underneath, wasn’t it? Well, maybe they should apply that adage to themselves.

Orochimaru-sama hadn’t forced Suguru to sign up to shinobi training, so he had returned to his village and worked at his uncle’s farm (he hadn’t wanted to know anything about his parents, those bastards) until he had enough money to start his own business. Thanks to his connections within Orochimaru-sama’s ranks, he had managed to get his hands on certain products there were shortages of in grass country and become a traveling merchant. It was a good life, especially because of his shinobi friends from Otto would often run into him during missions, so he was rarely alone for long.

When the sannin had approached him about providing reports on the different lands he traveled to, or delivering certain packages, Suguru had agreed. It paid well, often gave him excuses to meet up with his friends, and most importantly: there was little he wouldn’t do at this point for Orochimaru-sama. This is why he had gladly taken up sannin’s offer to pillage Konoha of its riches and take them back to Oto. In Suguru’s opinion, those forest elf hypocrites had it coming anyway. It was about time they stopped hoarding their wealth.

Thus, he had signed up to one of the raid missions Orochimaru-sama offered. They were basically instructed to pillage as much as they could and in exchange would be allowed to keep a not insignificant percentage of what they could procure. Suguru had of course teamed up with his chunin and jonin buddies. As a traveled merchant, he had a good eye for the more valuable objects, whereas they could provide protection. He grinned, pleased with himself, and glanced around himself. He and his companions were currently in one of the frozen azalea greenhouses that were exclusive to Konoha. It was obvious that they must be behind the destruction of Hidden Snow, for all that they pretended to be the nice guys, because no other village had ever so much as seen a frozen azalea that wasn’t already processed (and thus couldn’t be cultivated).

Suguru was thus preoccupied scanning the contents of his bag and calculating what percentage he would make off this. With this, he could finally settle down and take a wife, maybe even have children. He loved the road, but his years were getting to him, and lately… well, he had found himself daydreaming about these things. This is when Suguru noticed Ichigo waving him over from outside the greenhouse. Ichigo had gone to one of the other greenhouses – was he finished packaging all the azalea seeds already?

Suguru frowned when Ichigo waved more impatiently, his foot tapping irritably against the ground. He didn’t know the other jonin as well as the rest of his ninja buddies and wasn’t eager to make enemies with him. Suguru quickly hurried out of the greenhouse to see what the matter was.

“Ichigo-taichou?” he asked, stepping toward the other man. Ichigo shook his head.

“Look, not here. I wanted to talk to you about taking a bit of a cut for ourselves… you know… without the others noticing. Let’s go over there.”

Suguru didn’t follow the jonin, tilting his head in confusion. “You mean in addition to the fourty percent Orochimaru-sama’s promised us?”

Ichigo paused, then carefully said: “Do you truly believe we will be given so much?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? Orochimaru-sama’s never failed me before.”

Ichigo sighed. “Look. I believe in Orochimaru-sama as well… but there are things that might be out of his control. What if he assigns the task of giving out recompenses to someone secretly corrupt… we would just procuring our own insurance…”

Suguru swallowed. Ichigo was right. That Kabuto guy, for example, Suguru didn’t trust as far as he could throw. “Alright… I’m in.”

“Excellent,” said Ichigo. “Follow me. I’ll give you a secret storage scroll and show you how to use it real quick, but we cannot be seen.”

“Alright…” Suguru uttered. He hadn’t known a civilian like him would be able to use a storage scroll, but then again, maybe it was one of Orochimaru-sama’s latest inventions. He followed Ichigo to an out of the way area and there, before he understood what was happening, Ichigo turned into a woman with sharp eyes and a flinty expression. Before he could so much as scream, the woman had pressed a piece of fabric (from her yukata?) into his mouth and clasped his hands behind his back, holding them in place with an iron grip.

“Now, Ino,” the woman spoke.

A girl he hadn’t noticed before, this one blonde – and surely no older than twelve? – did some ninja hand signs and the next thing he knew was the strange pressure in his head, and then, darkness.

No one batted an eyelash when Suguru returned. No one payed him any attention when he sealed the door with a tag that only a shinobi should have been able to activate. The four nin who were escorting the merchant were too blinded by their own greed to notice anything amiss. They thought that Suguru was a fool for leaving to talk to Ichigo in the middle of the raid – but all the better, so they could take his own azaleas from him. They had pillaged his bag while he wasn’t there and substituted it with weeds and a genjutsu. This lack of concern for their teammate was their undoing.

While none of them looked, Suguru dropped four little pellets in the corners of the greenhouse and one in the middle. The pellets released an inordinate amount of carbon dyoxide, which slowly but surely began to lull the four ninja – and Suguru himself – into a deadly sleep. One they would never wake from. Too late, the last remaining ninja raised his eyes to the rest of his colleages, overcome by such drowsiness that it almost made him alarm, and found the rest of his colleages corpses staring back at him.

His chest compressed on him and he raised his eyes to the outside in a panic. He rushed toward the greenhouse door and attempted to open it, but couldn’t. And then he saw her: a woman was holding the door in place from outside. Through the translucent wall, he could see her, his murderer, her blurred, but undoubtedly calm and triumphant expression, one arm around a blond girl that seemed to doze, head propped on the woman’s shoulder. This woman, he realized, was a killer. Savagely indifferent to the deaths she’d just caused. Fucking bitch. He could barely breathe, he was dying, he’d show her! The man attempted to open the door, shouting desperate profanities at the cunt who had murdered him in cold blood, but the door didn’t budge. And then it did. But the man had less than half a second to process this, for as his momentum propelled him forwards, a pair of feminine hands snapped his spine, and he was instantly dead.

Chihiro stepped back to avoid the falling corpse of the Oto scum and calmly stroked Ino’s forehead.

“Hello, Yoshino.” She turned around, expression serene as she faced the Nara matriarch, who had just arrived with her clansmen in tow. Chihiro had bid them with a gesture to remain silence, as she didn’t want them to ruin her plan by alerting the enemy nin within the greenhouse with their presences. Now that that had been taken of, however, it was safe for them to approach.

Nara Yoshino did so, followed by a number of Nara men were standing behind her, all of them gaping at Chihiro as if they’d only just seen her.

“Do I have something on my face?” Chihiro asked them. The Nara men hurriedly looked away. Chihiro looked to Yoshino for explanations, and as usual, the Nara was quick to provide:

“What the hell was that, Chihiro?” she shouted. “I thought you weren’t a ninja?”

“Ah. Must’ve slipped my mind.”

“So you’re a genin? Since when?”

“Chunin, actually. Since before I married Inoichi.”

“Chunin?! And you didn’t tell me?! Wait what?”

Chihiro shrugged. “There isn’t much to say. I took the exams. I passed. End of story.”

“Chihiroooo,” Yoshino whined. “I know when you’re being vague on purpose! There is no way you just so happened to forget you were a chunin each and every time I wined about wishing you could be my sparring partner.”

“Maybe I didn’t feel like sparring.”

“Try that with someone else, ice queen,” Yoshino sang.

“I am not a particularly competent sparring partner, though.”

“That’s not the point! I wanna know what the deal with you is! Seriously, why didn’t you say anything? I’m your best friend.”

Chihiro pursed her lips. Unlike her husband, she wasn’t the most adept at reading people, but Yoshino was someone she knew very well. The vulnerability in her voice wasn’t faked.

“I would have told you. But… someone high up forbid it,” she admitted eventually.

Yoshino stopped short. “What?” Her best friend’s eyes had gone wide.

Chihiro shrugged. “It’s best if I don’t tell you. It was a long time ago, but they made me sign a contract and everything. Not even Inoichi knows.”

“O-oh.” Yoshino paled. “Who? Who told you that? Chihiro, Inoichi is responsible for intelligence, who on earth would have even higher clearence …? The hokage? No. No, wait, don’t tell me… Danzo Shimura?!”

Chihiro said nothing. Of course, this was irrelevant since Yoshino was already convinced she had guessed correctly.

“Fuck. Shimura made you sign a binding contract? About your chunin promotion? The hell. Why would he care?” She paused. “Chihiro… what aren’t you telling me?”

Chihiro looked at her and didn’t say anything.

“Wait.” Yoshino frowned. “Don’t tell me… don’t tell me it was those chunin exams?”

Chihiro kept looking at her.

“No. You were – no way. That was you…? You’re – the one who – that was you?!”

Chihiro sighed. For all that people liked to think that Yoshino’s intelligence couldn’t measure up to that of her husband, it certainly could. In different ways, perhaps – Shikaku was the type of step by step thinker who treated every problem like a puzzle, whereas his wife didn’t think in puzzles but in riddles. It wasn’t about the pieces, it was just about the answer. Chihiro hadn’t met anyone who could make such leaps of logic so quickly – and be correct about them – besides for Yoshino.

She didn’t confirm the woman’s assumption, obviously, but she didn’t need to.

“Holly shit, Chihiro… holly shit.”

“I don’t mind if you tell Shikaku," Chihiro said awkwardly. The Nara eavesdropping on their conversation would do so anyway, and it was better if Yoshino didn’t lose face because of her.

“Are you sure?” her dark eyes were all concern. “I mean, if Shimura made you sign a contract…”

“You guessed the truth without my input,” Chihiro explained. "So it isn't a problem."

Lie.

It absolutely was. Yoshino had taken this well, all things considered, though perhaps mostly because Chihiro’s actions would save her son’s life. On the other hand, now that the secret was out, it would travel fast. Chihiro would much rather keep her head down. It was what her mother had taught her to do her whole life. It was what she had done her whole life, except for on those accursed chunin exams, and look what had happened! She didn’t want what had happened that day getting out. She had acted thoughtlessly then, too young and foolish to measure her actions and their consequences. To set on her goal. She’d been glad, in a way, that the contract had given her the perfect excuse not to tell anyone. Now it was time to face the music. She knew full well that Shikaku would tell Inoichi. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to the news that his wife had killed every applicant of her chunin exams.

 

---

Tobirama was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

‘She really isn’t getting up… I really hit her. I don’t understand. Why did she flinch when I made shadow clones? Why didn’t she dodge?’

Gee. Now he thought she was pathetic on top of it all. But he wasn’t wrong. Death via shadow clone was a pathetic way to die. Her strongest weapon had turned against her. She supposed that her mind reading had always been a double edged sword. She cursed herself for not foreseeing that the bloody creator of shadow clones would eventually use – surprise – shadow clones! She could’ve done more, fought harder, groomed someone for the position of Root commander in case something happened to her – and yet she’d done none of that. Damn it. 

Tears pricked at her eyes. Just as she’d thought she could maybe survive this after all… damn it. She clenched her jaw and blinked away the tears. She wasn’t prepared in the least. She wasn’t prepared. If she died, Yann would not be able to return to his body. Not only was that horrible on itself but it also meant that Eita would be left to his own devices, alive, for god knows how long.

Not to mention – what about her… other occupation? Would Danzo find out? Well, at least she wouldn’t be alive for the repercussions.

All of these thoughts raced through her mind in the time it took Tobirama to produce a katana and slowly crouch over her. He lifted the blade, moving it to hover square over her stomach. She swallowed, watching the hilt of the blade touch her armor. This was it. A few seconds and it’d be done. The katana would pierce through her flesh effortlessly.

In Tobirama’s time, the harakiri had still been in use. Would he kill her using it? The twelve strokes would be a bitch. Honorable. Had she ever been? Everything she’d done all these years… Only Charca had known the extent of the worst of it, and she’d killed him.

The best way to keep a secret between two people is if one of them is dead, was every ninja’s motto. Well, her secret’s security would get even better real soon.

“Can I… make a request?” Río rasped.

Tobirama didn’t move his blade; a silent ‘go on’.

“If I die… no, after I die… please don’t… don’t pick my father as your new opponent. That… that blond man. Or Kakashi… the grey-haired one. Please.”

Tobirama gave her an inscrutable look. He closed his eyes; reopened them. Then he nodded. 

“Alright.”

Río knew somehow, without reading his thoughts, that he had lied. Ice began to form in the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t lie to me just because I’m about to die,” she pleaded. “Don’t go after them. Please. Don’t do it.”

The nidaime’s jaw clenched. “I cannot choose who I go after. Orochimaru could easily order me to kill either of them and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” 

“But if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t tell you who to go after – you’ll leave them alone? You’ll leave them alone, right?”

The nidaime’s face was grim. “I…” 

She could tell he was about to lie again.

“Don’t you dare lie again,” she hissed.

Tobirama, apparently surprised she’d been able to anticipate that, nodded heavily. “Very well then. I won’t lie again. The truth is, I cannot abide by your request.”

Damn him. Damn him.

“Why the fuck not!”That asshole–

“This Kakashi man,” Tobirama said gravely, “I have been watching him. He is holding his own against my successor.”

“So what?!” Her breath hitched. “He really isn’t that great! He’s dumb, he – he reads porn all the time and he’s late everywhere!” She spoke hoarsely, as fast as she could. “Tobirama-sama, you wouldn’t consider him a worthy opponent.”

“I already do.”

“Just… Don’t. Pick. Him. You even said earlier that his jutsu wouldn’t work against you!”

“I lied,” Tobirama retorted. “Normally, it’d be true, but I do not have my raijin blade here. Without it, an opponent capable of using lightning release is a bad match-up for me, more so one of that man’s level. I will not lie to you now: I must pick him.”  

“No,” she repeated. “No, no, no.”

“I must prioritize the stronger warriors,” Tobirama argued again, sounding pained. “If I don’t, I will wind up slaughtering all the weaker ones. It is one life against many, you have to understand.”

“No…” She balled her fists desperately. It didn’t matter if his words were logical, he couldn’t do it! 

Without making the conscious decision to do so, she sent chakra into her injury, an old trick from the war, and with the last dregs of her willpower, she then pushed herself up – the laceration in her stomach screaming as she did –  and tackled Tobirama, kicking his katana away with a foot and latching onto his hair and pulling with all the strength she could muster, a classical maneuver to keep opponents immobilized, then slammed it against the cold tiles once, then again, and again. 

Clank!  Clank! Clank!

Damn the happuri – it protected the man from the worst of the blows, otherwise she’d likely have knocked him out. As it was, Tobirama was able to recover quickly – Rio was cursing his ancestors for wearing that damned headpiece – and moments after, managed to flip them around like an omelet, to then kneel her with all his might right in the stomach, right where his katana had pierced her earlier. She grunted but didn’t let go; clawing pathetically at his hair and face, the blood from her injury splattering onto the tiles and his armor as she intermittently sobbed and cursed and bit her tongue. 

Number five, Inoue, Río, whatever her name may be, she was still a Yamanaka. She had not been raised like one, but mental takeovers were in her blood. She was known across the five nations as the mind flayer for a reason; she could read people’s surface thoughts like an open book, without a need for touch; could even do gentle nudging of them to an extent. It was true that her area of expertise were the subtler aspects of mind walking – it was true that she had never even been taught how to execute successful ‘blunt force’ techniques such as a human possession – but that was not going to stop her now. She’d be damned if she let Tobirama go after precious people.

The second she started channeling yin chakra into his head, the nidaime realized what she was up to and attempted to cancel her technique, as even her yin chakra was lazed with the water element which he could absorb; however, the man had given her the key to victory but a few minutes ago: she knew how to cancel his absorption technique now. 

“Thank fuck I asked you for help,” Río ground out. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Tobirama replied, switching back to taijutsu. Then: “Watch out!”

He paid her back for earlier, slamming her –  head first  – into the tiled floor, with enough strength to split rocks, but his warning worked and she used her chakra to parry the blow in the nick of time, though her nose was broken. Tobirama went to smash her head against the concrete once more; Rio dug her nails viciously into the man’s cheeks like some kind of feral house cat and pulled until he halted his movement. It was unbecoming, fighting like this, but she was too weak for much of anything else. Luckily, the happuri was a good foothold – making it easier not to let go – and with one last push she gathered even more of her yin chakra and commanded it with a snap into the man’s brain. 

He flinched and shook his head, trying to throw her off him, to free himself, to persevere. Río was delirious with pain at that point, all that her brain could think: keep the yin chakra flowing into his head, keep it flowing, keep it flowing… and then she was in.

As it turned out, Tobirama Senju’s mind being like a steel trap was not just a phrase. Experience had taught her that this kind of jutsu was extremely dangerous for anyone who didn't know what they were doing… anyone such as her. She was not vain. She knew Tobirama Senju’s will was probably greater than hers… and much hinged upon willpower when it came to the field of mental battles. Thankfully, however, she quickly discovered that she had gotten immensely lucky, for the nidaime’s mind didn’t attack her at all. 

It could only mean that this was the sole place where she was safe from the edo tensei’s influence, and thank god for that. It even seemed like his mind was trying to help her, nudging her along in a certain direction deeper within, as if trying to show her something. Chances were it was a trap, but at this point she had nothing to lose. And besides, her instincts were telling her to trust him. Thus, she followed the odd nudges deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, until finally she stumbled upon it: Orochimaru’s presence, faint but there. It wasn’t like an object or anything describable; she just recognized he was there somehow.

She knew immediately that she had to kick him out, but how should she do so when he was intangible? She was sure her father could have given her a one hour lecture on it, but it was her who was dealing with the problem now, and she was alone.

Since she didn’t know how to kick Orochimaru out, she figured all she could do was keep him in, caged, and so she forcefully wrapped as much chakra as she could around the area she sensed him in, trying to make the chakra as solid and ‘heavy’ as possible, like whipped cream mixed with rice from Tobirama’s sushi roll. She had no clue whether this would work or not but at this point all she had left were her instincts. 

And then the presence fought back. This could only mean she was doing something right, so she kept at it with increased fervor, though after each passing second it became harder. Tobirama’s mind began turning hostile as the sannin’s presence spread over it, expanding more and more and forcing her in turn to pour more of her chakra into it to keep up. Her internal organs and conduits were neglected, all that mattered was not losing, holding on, she had to– 

After what felt like a lengthy struggle but was probably a few seconds, Río noticed that the cloud of darkness had stopped its expansion, apparently unable to exert more control over Tobirama than it already was, and she kept her chakra in place firmly, blocking it to the best of her ability. Everything hurt so much – she was returning to her own body – 

“How much time can you buy me?”

– her sight fading in and out – 

“Oi! Oi!” Ouch. Someone had… slapped her? “Yamanaka, snap out of it! How much time can you buy me like this! Please! Answer me!”

Wait… he hadn’t killed her yet? That… that meant she’d succeeded – she’d stopped the edo tensei! Her lips quivered into a tired smile, but she was unable to celebrate otherwise. The guy was still slapping her unceremoniously whilst yelling her name, though he was at least being careful not to jostle her injury. As it was, Río couldn’t get her body to cooperate. Keeping her chakra locked around Orochimaru’s already felt akin to climbing a goddamned iceberg with only her left hand (seriously, she had no idea how Kakashi could enjoy putting himself through training like that).

Now Tobirama was shaking her shoulder. “Yamanaka! At least tell me what you’re doing!”

“I… your sushi thing… whipped cream…”

“Alright.” 

“Wha…” He understood that?

“Don’t talk! Just save your energy and keep doing it!” Her head hurt so much and the nidaime just –  kept shouting in her ear… ugh… What goes around… comes around, huh…? She’d faded out of consciousness for a moment, then realized he was still shouting. “–naka, I’m going to try to make this permanent, alright! But I need time, got it? Time. No matter what happens, don’t stop, do you hear me? Don’t stop.”  

“’Kay…”

“I said don’t talk, you imbecile!”

---

Inoichi had always had a strong bond to his firstborn daughter. He had taken her to work once, and Inoue had charmed all of his colleagues with her easy laugh and cute cheeks. Admittedly, they hadn’t liked her as much after Inoue had had almost let a dangerous prisoner escape (Inoichi swore his daughter had been standing next to him the entire time, next thing he knows, she’s toddled into the high security facility and is chatting up a Kiri roughe), but that had just been a bump in the road. Okay, he might have freaked out a little at the time, but it was a pretty funny story to tell to Shikaku over dinner afterward.

Inoichi had loved Inoue. He had taken his daughter to the festivals, ever perched on his shoulders, and had caught koi goldfish with her. Once, he had even convinced Shikaku to let Inoue pet his deer. He had loved her like he did few things in this world. And now, Inoue was bleeding out on the cold stone floor of the conference room. The nidaime’s blade protruding from her side.

Inoichi saw red. Before he knew what he was doing, he had jumped down in front of his child and shoved the nidaime hokage off, as far as he would go.

“Hands off my daughter, you bastard!” He was so angry. It didn’t matter that he knew the nidaime couldn’t help killing her, couldn’t help being controlled, that this was his fucking hokage – he didn’t care. Inoichi wanted to skin the bastard alive. Behind him, he heard the mutters of his colleagues. Ah, right. He had publicly called Inoue – Río – his daughter in front of all of them. Now they’d surely figure out that the supposedly missing Yamanaka heiress hadn’t actually been kidnapped by Iwa, but by their own village. It would be a political scandal like nothing Konoha had ever seen, but again, Inoichi did not care.

Now that he’d shoved the nidaime aside, he could kneel next to his daughter.

“Inoue, Inoue can you hear me?” He was crying. The blonde stirred slightly, her eyes hazy, unable to focus. “Inoue, oh god… oh, kami, why do you have to be so unfair?” Inoichi’s fingers trembled as he stroked his daughter’s cheek, trembled as he tried to no avail to apply pressure to her injury. Even he could tell, however, that she was already beyond saving. Not unless Senju Tsunade suddenly burst into the room, Inoue was already halfway to the Pure Lands. “Inoue… Río…” he chocked out. “Gods… please, please say something…”

“Yamanaka,” the nidaime interrupted him. “You need to let me close to her. Your daughter has –”

“Will you shut your trap!” Inoichi snarled, twisting to face him. “I don’t want to hear it!”

“But I need to use her chakra for–”

“I don’t want to hear it–!”

“Yamanaka–” The nidaime took a deep breath, apparently about to say something else reasonable, but Inoichi had had enough.

“Enough. Just so you know, that is your own descendant you’ve killed!”

Tobirama stilled.

Inoichi hoped that had hurt the bastard as much as his killing Inoue had hurt him.

“What?” Tobirama said after a moment, blinking as thought Inoichi had slapped him in the face. “No…”

“Yes,” Inoichi spat coldly. “I just found out myself. My wife is your granddaughter. You have just killed your own great-grandchild in cold blood.”

“She… she is my grandchild?” Tobirama repeated dazedly.

“Great grandchild.”

The nidaime was quiet, though his eyes had gone very wide. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t she tell me… I can’t… I don’t… I wouldn’t have…”

“I don’t think she knew,” Inoichi said, beginning to feel guilty over his cruelty. He bit his lip, staring into Inoue’s increasingly pale face. “My daughter was taken from me at a young age. I had just begun to believe I could finally reunite with her…” He broke out into sobs, grief wrecking his body like a plague.

“Your daughter… my family…” the nidaime whispered. “She was… she managed to lift the edo tensei for me. She gave the last of her chakra to free me from it. And her last request… was that I spare you.”

“Wait… what?” Inoichi’s eyes were wide as saucers. “She asked you to spare me specifically?”

“Yes,” Tobirama confirmed gravely.

“Oh, god.” Inoichi’s knuckles shook. Then he thought further about the nidaime’s words. “You aren’t being controlled at the moment then? Thanks to Inoue?”

“Does it look like I am?” Tobirama replied distantly, all his concentration on the fuinjutsu array he was scrawling. Wait… Inoichi stared at Tobirama. He was using Inoue’s blood that was pooling on the floor to draw some kind of circular array on a spare piece of paper.

“What are you doing, you animal!”

Tobirama glared at him. “Blood is the best conduit of chakra, Yamanaka. I don’t have my chakra ink here. I must use what tools are available to me.Your daughter’s blood is filled with the exact type of chakra frequency I am trying to reproduce indefinitely.”

Inoichi stared at the Senju, then looked away, intent on sitting by his daughter’s side in her last moments, rather than arguing with the nidaime.It was only then that he noticed Orochimaru’s silent approach. Inoichi tensed and stood. If what the nidaime had said was true, then the sannin’s first order of business would be to finish off his daughter before the array could be completed. No way would he allow that. Over his dead body. Inoichi wasn’t a combatant, but he had a trick or two up his sleeve.

“Hurry up,” was all he said to Tobirama, then pulled out a kunai and stood his ground in front of Inoue.

“Oho?” Orochimaru asked. “Is the Yamanaka baring his fangs?”

“One more step, you bastard…”

Orochimaru grinned and took a mocking step forward. “Yes?”

Inoichi’s jaw was trembling with suppressed outrage. All of this was Orochimaru’s fault, after all. His fault that Inoue was dead now, his fault that his wife and Ino may be in danger, his fault. Inoichi snarled. “I’ll kill you!” Inoichi shot forward, kunai in hand, and heard his colleagues and friends shouting his name from behind him, but didn’t care. “You’re going to pay, sannin!”

His hacked at Orochimaru with the kunai, who used his sword to cut the kunai into two, forcing Inoichi to unleash a rain of shuriken even as he brandished a new kunai and jabbed it into the sanin’s face. Then, with a tap of Inoichi’s heel, the ground beneath them began to tremble, and pebbles shot up from it like pistons.
Orochimaru dodged the various projectiles, as well as the kunai swipe, but was almost hit by it when Inoichi released the kunai and the pulled it back, revealing a chakra string he had attached to it. While the sannin was able to dodge the attack, it came close to hitting him – and it put him in a perfect position for Inoichi to aim a chakra-ladden kick at his face. Orochimaru parried it, but Inoichi immediately pulled out a kunai and hurled it with full strength, then changed its course with chakra strings. Orochimaru was forced to jump back and temporarily retreat. Good. He wanted to hurt him, if possible. Hurt him badly.

Clearly in a hurry to reach Inoue, Orochimaru made to step around Inoichi and get to her that way, but a gigantic shadow blocked his path. It was Choza’s shadow. Inoichi’s best friend had used his corporal expansion and now stood at a whoopig six meter’s of size, while Shikaku, who stood slightly behind Choza, was manipulating said shadow so it would circle ominously around Orochimaru. The sannin gritted his teeth, his eyes flitting toward Tobirama, whose array looked close to complete now.

---

Río was fading in and out of consciousness. Other voices surrounded her, whispers of 'heiress' and 'impossible' she could barely force her mind to process. In the distance, someone was shouting, there was hissing… gasps… the clanking of metal a little ways off, someone crying? Was that her father's voice, shouting 'bastard'? She could barely tell, was scarcely aware enough to feel curiosity still. All she knew was the pain of containing Orochimaru's chakra, the pain of her injury, and the nidaime's chakra signature hovering next to her, working to free himself. Though it had been him who'd killed her, his chakra was strangely soothing, in a way she didn't understand. Familiar, almost. It was a relief to have him here with her, as she died. She trusted him to be able to come up with the fuinjutsu array he’d need on the spot, she trusted him to make her death… worth something.

The way he’d managed to teach her that sushi jutsu had been… well, it’d been the first time in her life any sort of academic situation hadn’t made her hate herself. Now she felt terrible about blowing up his mother’s former belonging.

“I… I’m so sorry about your fur coat…” she rasped, and was treated to a thunderous: “Save your goddamned breath, you moronic woman!”

Black spots filled her vision so she couldn’t tell what Tobirama was up to.

"Sorry," she wanted to say, but her voice was barely a whisper. 

"Hold on. Please. Hold on. You're doing a good job. Hold on. I'm almost done. I'll try to help you. You can survive this." He kept repeating the same thing over and over again, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

Río bit her lip. She was doing it. Good.

She held on as long as she could, but Orochimaru’s will was very, very strong. Pushing him back felt like running a marathon, like telling herself after each step that she would stop the next step, and then the next… Her body was screaming at her to shut down already, she couldn’t keep going, she had to, she couldn’t… she had to…

A moment ago she had heard strained sobbing – a voice calling her name, saying ‘Inoue’, saying 'Río'. It had sounded like her father... but that couldn't be. He didn't know. He couldn't know... what would he think of her now? To him, it must have looked like she was Danzo's loyal minion... like she was a traitor to the village, a soulless monster.  She doubted it had actually been him, and even if it had, she doubted he would have said her name in anything other than abhorrence, disgust, shame. But in that moment, she let herself believe. She let herself float in the fantasy that he could have loved her. Let herself hope that her death had been worth something to him, that he would understand, somehow, that she wasn't really that bad after all. She remembered why she had come to the tower in the first place – she’d come for him. He would be so devastated to find out she was Root… but then she thought of Kakashi and how he’d stalled for so long at the prospect of killing her earlier even though he had known she was from Root. The thought made her feel a little less cold on the inside. Moron. He should know better. 

Shishui was probably real bored, wherever he was. She’d be joining him soon. But first she had to fight, just a little longer. If only she could let go for a moment… just to rest. But no… don’t let go, Rio… you won't be able to keep pushing if you do…

Abruptly, she realized that she already had. There was nothing left for her to give. Around her, the world faded, like diving under, into a lukewarm bath. Then she was dead.

 

---

“Out of my way,” Orochimaru spat, now dead serious, and a strange sort of chakra began to gather in the air around him. Orochimaru smirked. “A word of advice. I wasn’t just standing around while you were battling my reanimations, dears. You see, an old friend has taught me how to gather nature chakra…”

“It’s too late now, sannin,” Shikaku interrupted him. He was glancing at Tobirama, who was no longer frantically drawing the array anymore. Now, the completed fuinjutsu tag peeked out from beneath his shirt. Shikaku smirked. “The nidaime’s sealing array is already finished. He is free of the edo tensei.”

Orochimaru’s eyes widened, all of his attention honing in, horrified, on Tobirama. And in that moment of distraction–

Danzo cut his head off.

Orochimaru fell, decapitated, to the floor. His head landed with a dull thud, rolling for a moment, and coming to a stop next to the sannin’s limp arm.

“Heh. I told you so.” Danzo heaved out a tired, but pleased breath. “'Your head will be next',” he quoted himself derisively. Then he kicked Orochimaru’s actual head away with his foot, a feral grin spreading over his lips. The head landed a ways off with a dull clank. Smiling triumphantly, Danzo turned toward Tobirama. “I would have never let him touch you, Tobirama-sama. The threat has been taken care off. By me.  As I told you.”

 

 

Tobirama didn't even seem to hear him. Having finished his array and now indefinitely out of the edo tensei’s influence, he was now crouching over his great granddaughter, self-loathing reflected on every line of his body. He seemed oblivious to everything else.

Inoichi, who had been looking at Danzo, turned toward the former hokage. In that moment, he saw the expression on the man’s face, and immediately knew.

Inoue was dead.

 

 

Notes:

:(

Notes:

wellllp. You've reached the end of the fic. For now. Don't hesitate to reach out and yell at me on tumblr or discord. This fic isn't big enough to open a discord for it, but my biggest fic, The Sixth Shadow, has one, so you can find my discord at the end notes over there. If you're liking this story -- I really appreciate some feedback, especially since this isn't a pairing/genre that has much interaction, in general. I'm not a numbers type of gall, so I don't really check the kudos count, uh, so if you want to let me know you liked it (but are too shy to comment), feel free to just leave me a smiley icon or something. No words needed! I'd even take a broccoli emoji :) omg that joke was terrible. Yes I was a picky eater as a child. Yes, I'll still take the broccoli! Okay, best sign off now
till next time!

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Also, here you can watch the so-called promo video of More Than Enemies

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of More Than Enemies Verse