Once More with Feeling

by Chicken Train And Laser Beam

After an unexpected turn on a mission with Team Seven, Kakashi Hatake wakes up in the past, trapped in the body of his thirteen-year-old self. Despite being torn away from his own, familiar world, Kakashi resolves to change the future to better the lives of those he loves. Yet, fate is not so easily mastered, and he's not the only one playing the game.

3. War and Peace

A/N: Eyyy, seven months! We're getting faster! We really are going to try and get faster in publishing these than once a year, because if we don't, we're going to die of old age before we can finish this lol. Our apologies for both the wait and the length.

Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed. We cherish them, just, so much. Genuinely, we still talk about some of them, including some posted to the first chapter back in 2016.

Note—this chapter was supposed to have another chunk at the end of it, but that chunk ended up being 20,000 words. Due to the nature of both this chapter as is and that chunk, it stopped flowing properly, so we had to move it to next chapter. We're having to do some reworking. The good news is, next chapter will probably come out a lot faster than this one because we already have a good chunk written (and, truthfully, we didn't have time to start writing this chapter until the beginning of August).

Content warnings for this chapter, so prepare yourself accordingly: Traumatized people actually having to deal with their trauma instead of being magically cured, which means mentions of PTSD, displaying of symptoms, and talk about recovery. Also, a Vine reference.

Previously, on Once More With Feeling: After touching a mysterious crystal with the rest of Team Seven, Kakashi travels back in time into his thirteen-year-old body and saves Obito. He realizes that he can't save the world alone, so tells Jiraiya and Tsunade about the future and asks for their help. Jiraiya and Tsunade yell at one another in a hotel room, Tsunade gives Kakashi her necklace, and they both, eventually, agree to help. In a plot to kill Danzō, they decide to go to the Rain and befriend the Akatsuki. Now, without further ado...

Chapter 3:

Blame it on War and Peace

AKA

"Rasputin" by Boney M.

(Kill Bill: Vol 1)

There was not a single Konoha ninja who would testify against the beauty of their city's gate.

There was nothing masterful or unique about its construction. Architecturally, it blended in with the other outer walls and small building within the city seamlessly, and its artistry paled in comparison to the magnificence of some of Konoha's main structures, like the Hokage Rock and the Academy. To a visitor, it would seem like nothing more than a simple door.

Yet, no Konoha ninja would testify against its beauty. Because, after coming back to the village from a long mission, armed only with the relief at one's survival and clinging desperately to the coattails of battle's adrenaline high to carry one home, there was nothing more exhilarating than seeing the sight of Konoha's gate peeking through the trees. The inner-city buildings were exquisite, sure, but none of them saw as many rapturous smiles as the gate which welcomed weary ninja home.

Minato was never an exception to the phenomenon, but after coming back from his latest mission, the wonder struck him even harder than usual. There was something more to it, more than the usual euphoria of coming home, that took his breath away.

Kushina wanted a child.

This is the gate that will welcome my child home.

Kushina wasn't even pregnant—their potential child nothing more than an idea—so it was stupid to daydream. Still, Minato couldn't help it. The world itself seemed more vibrant and alive at the very thought of having a son or daughter.

Nearly everything in Konoha was falling victim to his fancying, and he suddenly developed an intense fondness for all of it. Ramen Ichiraku was no longer just Kushina's favorite restaurant; it was the place Kushina would introduce their child to ramen. The Hokage Rock was where he would take their child to learn about their village's history. The Konoha Library was where he would take their child to introduce them to the world of literature (if they were a reader, which he hoped they would be). The Academy was where their child would learn how to be a ninja.

Maybe the Hokage Office was where their child would one day sit, chosen as the leader of Konoha.

Of course, he would love them all the same if their dreams were not near that grand. He would love them no less if they decided to never become a ninja at all.

"You asked to see me, Sandaime?" asked Minato, bowing his head respectfully in greeting.

"Yes," said the Third, smiling, though it was stiff and didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sit down, won't you?"

Minato grabbed one of the chairs on the side of the office, pulled it up to the opposite side of the desk from the Third, and sat down.

"Tea?" asked the Third, pouring a cup for himself and readying a second one.

Tea. Would their child like tea? "No, thank you, sir."

"Very well." The Third took his time fiddling with the tea—putting up the pot and shuffling around papers on his desk to make room for his cup—before giving Minato a curious look out of the corner of his eye. "Have you heard from Jiraiya lately?"

"No," said Minato, frowning. "Haven't for a few months. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," said the Third. "The opposite, actually. He looked…better than usual."

Nodding politely in attentiveness, Minato wondered where this conversation was going. Minato and the Third had a slightly more casual relationship than the average ninja had with their leader, due to what was referred to as "the sensei tree." Jōnin sensei often had an almost parental relationship to their charges, particularly due to the prevalence of orphans in ninja society, where sensei were the closest thing to an authority figure many genin had. So, the relationship to one's sensei's sensei could range anywhere from feeling mildly related to grandchild/grandfather.

Minato and the Third ran somewhere in the upper-middle. Even when he was younger, Minato saw a lot of the Third, and the Third had always been quick to trust him over his peers, but they had never talked about Jiraiya's well-being in-depth.

"Jiraiya told me he's been looking for an information gathering-successor," said the Third. "And, somehow, he landed on Kakashi. They left on a mission two Wednesdays ago, to test the waters."

That caught Minato off guard. To the best of his knowledge, Jiraiya and Kakashi had only seen each other a handful of times and Minato had been there for all of them, their crossing only because of him in the first place. And, while Minato certainly spoke highly of Kakashi in the presence of Jiraiya, when prompted for how his genin team was doing, Kakashi had just met the qualifications for jōnin a few weeks ago.

Had this been the cause of Kakashi's personality change? Was his transformation merely a product of his old sensei getting ahold of him, Jiraiya's charisma and altruism winning over Kakashi's compulsive lawfulness?

No, that didn't make any sense. The change in Kakashi was immediate, and people seldom changed their entire outlook on life at the drop of a hat, particularly people as strong-willed as Kakashi, no matter how convincing their persuader. Even if it hadn't been instantaneous, Jiraiya and Kakashi would have had to be in contact for months leading up to that, and Jiraiya had been gone for the last five. What have they been doing—exchanging letters?

In fact, Jiraiya had only come back from his mission two Tuesdays ago, as had Kakashi, which meant they both left the morning after coming back from significant missions. Given the short turnaround time, Kakashi was still moderately injured when they left. Whatever the mission was, it was important enough to breed a spontaneous partnership in two completely opposite people.

Minato didn't like to pry into other people's business—particularly professional business, where there were strict legal limitations anyway. Still, there was something wrong with that picture.

Even stranger, whatever this critical reason for their mission was, it had instilled a new wave of life into both of them. Kakashi was, out of nowhere, compassionate, hopeful, and charming. Jiraiya, apparently, looked better than he had in a year.

If Minato had to guess, they found something. Specifically, Kakashi found something, causing his abrupt change in personality during the Kannabi Bridge mission. Then, he showed it to Jiraiya two Wednesdays ago, causing a rejuvenation in Jiraiya and their sudden decision to go on a mission together.

As Minato had been with Kakashi the night before the Kannabi Bridge mission and that Kakashi was the same as ever, he must have found whatever it was the morning of. He had been late, curiously, and had dodged giving a reason, brushing it off as a newfound deviation from predictability. But, Kakashi was smart—new Kakashi even more so, with his newfound wisdom and maturity—and he would have never risked the success of the mission on something like that. The dodge was intentional, most likely, and Kakashi said the one thing that would stun Minato to the point of not asking questions.

What could Kakashi have found that caused him to randomly develop compassion, wisdom, and maturity? Why did he hide it from Minato but show it to, of all people, Jiraiya, with whom he'd had no real contact with before?

Judging by the Third's description of their mission, which Minato now suspected was not a simple testing of the waters, Jiraiya and Kakashi had either lied to the Third or the Third was lying to him. If he had to guess, Jiraiya and Kakashi had lied to the Third; the Third was fishing when he told Minato that Jiraiya looked better than usual, to see if Minato knew anything about his sudden change in demeanor. If the Third was trying to hide the details of the mission from Minato, he wouldn't have needed information from him, nor would he have piqued his curiosity.

What had Kakashi and Jiraiya gotten into?

He had no desire to communicate these thoughts to the Third, particularly since it wasn't his place to pry in the first place, so he moved past them quickly. "I see," said Minato, keeping his face neutral. "Do you know when they'll be back?"

"I have no idea," said the Third. "I never do with Jiraiya. It could be weeks; it could be months."

"Will I have another jōnin on my squad, then?"

"About that," said the Third, and the stiffness returned. "I've decided to station Rin at the hospital and Obito at the academy. They're both being trained to, at this time, work at their respective locations long term."

It was less surprising than the news about Jiraiya and Kakashi, but it was far less welcome.

"I suppose I'm being fired, then?" asked Minato, barely keeping a mirthless half-smile off his face.

"You must understand, Minato, whether you meant to or not, you're holding the war in your hands. I have to make sure your arms are empty enough to take it. The lives of our people depend on it, and I trust you more than anyone to keep them safe."

The compliment did not ease the sting. "So, I'm being fired."

The Third's gaze was firm, but Minato swore there was an undercurrent of pity in his eyes.

"Yes."

(Two Bros, Chillin' in a Treehouse, Five Feet Apart 'Cause They're Not Gay)

Camped out only a few miles south of Konoha, both Kakashi and Jiraiya thought they had lived long enough to know that life would always find ways to take things from them. But, losing the feeling of relief from being close to home gutted them in ways they weren't prepared for. Though war was ravaging the continent and political unrest extended even further, home had become their primary battlefield. Kakashi's peaceful Konoha was gone, Jiraiya's illusion of adequate village stability was gone, and though they both had different reasons, their lifetimes of loyalty and servitude suddenly felt hollow.

They really ought to have known better.

Also unbeknownst to one another, though it was a thought for a later time, they wondered if Tsunade would feel the same restlessness upon coming back and would be dissuaded from staying. Having unfinished business in the town she was lodging in, Tsunade decided to stay behind with Shizune and Tenzō, while Kakashi and Jiraiya ran one last errand before they all went to the Rain.

("Besides," she'd said. "The second-hand embarrassment might actually kill me.")

It was a thought for a later time, but despite having much more pressing issues to deal with, they both thought it all the same.

"Are your hideouts usually in treehouses?" asked Kakashi, trying to push everything from his mind as he kept watch though a cut-out knot in one of the wood panels, because he really ought to have known better.

"You got something against two grown men sitting in a treehouse together?" asked Jiraiya, doing the same on both accounts.

"Only if that other man is you."

"They're good hiding places," said Jiraiya, ignoring him. "You can get a decent vantage point on all sides through strategic holes in the wood, and it provides good concealment and cover. Not so great to do combat in, but that's what the exits are for."

"Not so great if your enemy likes long-range fire jutsu, either."

"Yeah, well, your plans are always fucked if an Uchiha gets involved." Looking away from his surveillance of the moonlit forest for just a moment, Jiraiya gave Kakashi a hard look. "How certain are you that this is going to work?"

"Fifty percent," said Kakashi. "With a fifty percent chance it's going to blow up in our faces."

Though Kakashi didn't have a concrete outline of Kabuto's past, he'd heard enough to know that Kabuto, as a young child, was taken into the Konoha Orphanage by Nono, one of the wardens and an ex-ROOT member who was not particularly fond of the organization or Danzō. At some point later, Danzō recruited Kabuto into ROOT, much to Nono's displeasure, and she spent the rest of her life trying to bargain him out. Kakashi wasn't sure at what age Kabuto was taken, but if there was any chance he was still at the orphanage, he needed to be dealt with. Kabuto had taken thousands of lives during the Fourth Ninja World War alone.

The smartest option was to just kill him and be done with it, but Jiraiya and Kakashi decided that they weren't in the business of killing innocent people for their future actions—particularly innocent children, who could easily be saved from their circumstances. Otherwise, Obito would have to be the first to go.

So, Kakashi was left with only one option.

Kakashi knew that fixing this timeline would involve personal sacrifices, and he thought he was committed to doing whatever. However, this went beyond his initial expectations, because there were some things in life that being a ninja didn't prepare you for, even a ninja career with as many weird experiences as his, and he was regretting it more with every hour that passed.

Even though the stakes were high, Jiraiya thought it was hilarious.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" asked Jiraiya.

"Why, would you like to do it instead?" asked Kakashi, irritated at the amused look on Jiraiya's face. "Or, better yet, be useful and think of a better plan?

"You're awfully bitchy about something you volunteered for." Jiraiya turned back towards his watch. "But, this is the stupidest plan I've ever been apart of."

The fact that neither of them could think of a descent plan was weighing on both of them, because no matter how self-depreciative they were, they were still master tacticians. If they'd had more time, they probably could have set up something better. However, they'd only had thirty-six hours to plan, all of which were spent traveling, and twelve to enact it, so desperate times called for desperate measures.

Thankfully, Jiraiya had worked with Nono before, back when she was still apart of ROOT, so they weren't going in totally blind. He sent a letter to the orphanage, tied to the back of one of his frogs for identity verification, mentioning Kabuto and asking her to meet them sometime after midnight. If she loved Kabuto as much as the stories claimed and hadn't yet been sent on a mission by Danzō, they felt confident she would show.

Kakashi dreaded it with every fiber of his being. Jiraiya thought it was hilarious.

Neither of these things erased the sinister disquietness that came from proximity to the village.

They wondered if Tsunade would stay.

---

Nono finally showed around two-thirty, with exhausted eyes and a wary smile.

"Jiraiya," she greeted, as he took her hand and helped her into the treehouse. "This is…unexpected."

"I rarely do as expected." Jiraiya gestured over to Kakashi. "This is Kakashi Hatake. He used to be Minato Namikaze's student."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, once again giving an empty smile as she sat down and rested her back against the decaying wood of the treehouse wall. She gave both of them a calculating look, using her background in information gathering to try and get a read on the situation. But, they were as good at concealing things as she was at ascertaining them, and they all found themselves in a standstill. "So, you said this has something to do with Kabuto?"

"I've been digging into some things," said Jiraiya. "Word on the street is Danzō's going to come to the orphanage soon and force you to go on an intel gathering mission. Then, he's going to take a couple of the most skilled ninja in the orphanage and recruit them into ROOT." Jiraiya gave her a significant look. "Word on the street is Kabuto's at the top of that list."

"No," she said, almost standing in shock before realizing how low the ceiling was. Her face was caught somewhere between fear and anger, and Kakashi could tell why didn't make a good ROOT member; like all the members of his Team Seven, she was one of the unlucky few excellent ninja who couldn't conceal their emotions worth a damn. "He can't take him. He can take me, but he can't take him. Kabuto is sweet, and kind, and good, and ROOT would just destroy him."

"I know he's like a son to you," said Jiraiya. "Word on the street and all, which is why we're trying to help you."

"He is my son," she said fiercely, before relaxing back against the wall. "Help me how?"

Jiraiya fought the urge to admit that Tsunade was right about second-hand embarrassment. Kakashi fought the urge to run away.

"This is going to sound crazy," said Kakashi, growing quickly tired of having to say that phrase and all its variations.

"I would do anything to protect Kabuto," said Nono.

"Kakashi, though a teenager," said Jiraiya. "Is…beyond his years, in most ways. Dealing with Kakashi is no different, in any regard, than dealing with someone, say, my age. In fact, I suggest you look at him as if he's a thirty-seven-year-old stuck in a teenager's body."

"Okay," said Nono slowly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

There were some things in life that being a ninja did not prepare you for. But, in the future, when the world went to war and Kabuto summoned death, death would not care about the reason.

The war was your fault, too.

It's nothing Naruto wouldn't do.

"Let me adopt Kabuto," said Kakashi, almost wincing. There were some things in life… "There's another boy I have to take in. I can pass both off as long-lost relatives who've recently lost their parents and need someone in Konoha to look after them, so they can go to the Academy. The disguise will keep them safe and let them live normal lives."

Nono took several deep breaths as she looked back and forth between him and Jiraiya incredulously. "You're not serious."

"Trust me," said Jiraiya. "I know it's weird, and I know he's weird, but he's far more capable than he looks."

"And you honestly think he could responsibly raise two children?"

"As well as any thirty-seven-year-old, because that is the age we're pretending he is?" asked Jiraiya. Kakashi shot him an exasperated look. "Without a doubt in my mind. Trust me, I've taken in kids before, so I know what it's like, and I wouldn't vouch for him if I didn't mean it. Besides, he's going to look after one kid no matter what, so it's nothing he wouldn't be doing already."

Looking far more exhausted than when she climbed into the treehouse, Nono curled her knees to her chest and barely seemed to breathe as she look back and forth between Kakashi and Jiraiya. Neither disturbed her, even as the moments passed on, because they knew giving up Kabuto wouldn't be easy for her and that giving him up to someone she thought was thirteen was even worse.

"I know this is difficult," said Kakashi eventually. "And know that we wouldn't ask this of you if we didn't think it was necessary. You know that you didn't want to lose your son to someone like that." After all, Sasuke and Kabuto had fallen prey to the same enemy. Difference circumstances, but it was the same story. "It will stay with you for the rest of your life."

"I know." Resting her elbows on her knees and taking a deep breath, she smiled sadly. "He'll be a great ninja one day. He's only five, but he's already so talented at medical jutsu. Every day, he makes me prouder than the last."

"Then give him a chance," said Jiraiya. "To become a normal ninja and learn to use it for the good of the village."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"What would we have to gain?" asked Kakashi. "We're meeting you in the middle of the night in a treehouse. We clearly don't hold the upper hand in anything."

Once again giving him a ascertaining look, she took a deep breath. "I can't believe I'm considering this. But, you're right. Danzō can't have that power, and he certainly can't have my son. It's probably time to put him in the Academy, anyways."

"I'm sorry," said Kakashi, meaning it.

She nodded, dazed. "If you're right about Danzō, I don't even have a choice. If Jiraiya trusts you, then I trust you." Taking another deep breath, she regained her composure. "I'll destroy Kabuto's records and create immigrant papers under the name 'Kabuto Hatake,' so it will look like he came from outside of Konoha. Do you need papers for the other child?"

"Please," said Kakashi, almost dumbstruck, not fully believing their luck. "His name is Tenzō."

"Wait here," she said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

With that, she jumped down from the entrance of the treehouse and ran back off into the night, leaving a stunned silence from the two men in her wake.

"Did that just work?" asked Jiraiya, still looking at the spot she had been sitting in disbelief. "I have created near-perfect plans with weeks of preparation that have failed miserably, but our fucking, last-minute 'hey, let's lure a woman into a treehouse at two in the morning and convince her to let a thirteen-year-old adopt her child' actually worked."

"A mutual hated of Danzō is a powerful thing." Kakashi was not sure how he felt about the success of their plan. Though they probably hadn't screwed up their chances of fixing the timeline forever, he was adopting Kabuto. Kabuto, the second Orochimaru, the one who had tried to kill him on multiple occasions. Sure, Obito had tried to kill him, but at least that was mostly contained within a three-day period, and he was his best friend first. "What the hell have I done?"

Kakashi felt like he was throwing fuel on the fire of the weird dynamics in their haphazard, world-saving group. Jiraiya was losing the will to find humor in their situation.

The sinister disquietness raged on.

They wondered if Tsunade would stay.

---

Kabuto was smaller than Kakashi thought he would be. He was scrawny for a five-year-old, and the too-large glasses he was wearing didn't help. If Kakashi squinted his eyes, the innocent-looking child Kabuto almost looked like a different person than the one he knew.

Truthfully, it was like looking at Sasuke when he was first put on Team Seven, the shadow of Itachi, of the death of the entire Uchiha clan, hanging over him. Despite that shadow, he wanted, then, to believe that the innocent, childlike face would last forever.

He'd lived long enough, now, to know that was stupid, but he liked to think that was behind them.

"Kabuto," said Nono. "This is Jiraiya and Kakashi Hatake."

"Hello," said Kabuto, in the middle of a yawn, smiling brightly. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," said Jiraiya, while Kakashi could only find it in himself to awkwardly wave.

"Kabuto, something's happened," she said, cupping Kabuto's cheek and kneeling so that they were face-to-face. "It's not—it's not safe for you to be here anymore. They're going to take you to live in Konoha so you can go to the ninja school there."

"But I don't want to leave you," said Kabuto, growing panicked. "I want to stay here."

"I know." She smiled sadly and ruffled his hair. "But I need you to be strong for me, okay? You'll love it at the Academy. They'll teach you even more than I have."

"Will I ever get to see you again?"

"Of course. I'll come visit your when I can." She pulled him into a tight hug and looked at Kakashi over his shoulder. "Swear to me you'll take care of him."

"I will."

"Swear it."

"I swear," said Kakashi, owing it to the world to do so.

As Kabuto and Nono exchanged tearful goodbyes, Kakashi felt like his grasp on reality was breaking. Jiraiya wondered how long the group could snowball like this before everything started crashing down around them.

The sinister disquietness raged on.

They hoped Tsunade would stay.

(Kill Bill: Vol 2)

Every jōnin sensei entered the job knowing that it would one day come to an end. Students never stayed students forever, and it was considered a great honor to have your trainees move beyond the need for you.

"You won't be ready," Jiraiya told him once, early on in his sensei career. "No matter when it happens, you won't be ready. You care about those brats too much."

At nineteen-years-old, Minato didn't quite believe him, not understanding how the fulfillment of his purpose could bring him melancholy. At twenty-three-years-old, Minato realized that, as usual, his old sensei was right, and he wasn't ready to lose them.

Minato was proud, of course. He was prouder than he ever thought he was capable of being. No matter how much he didn't understand it, Kakashi was off doing something important with Jiraiya, and Minato almost unconditionally trusted anything Jiraiya decided to involve himself with. And though Rin and Obito never made it to jōnin (and if he was being honest with himself, probably never would), the Third Hokage found a place for them in the village where they could use their talents for good.

Still, no matter how proud he was, he wasn't ready. The past four years had gone by so fast—far too fast—and Minato wanted to desperately cling onto time and extend it with them.

Was this what being a parent was like? Was this just a taste of what it would be like to watch a child grow up beyond the need for him?

Kushina wanted a child.

Every jōnin sensei entered the job knowing that it would one day come to an end, including Minato, and he was lucky, luckier than many, that all his students had lived to see it. So, he accepted the discharge with grace, pushed the bittersweet thoughts from his mind, and invited Obito and Rin to lunch to congratulate them on their new positions.

"It's so strange," said Rin, as they sat down, less willing to hide her mournfulness than Minato. "That we won't be…us anymore."

"I will always be here if you two need anything," said Minato. "This doesn't change that. Whether or not I'm teaching you, Kushina and I will always be—" He thought of Jiraiya, ever watching over him and Kushina, the best stand-in for something neither of them ever got to have that they could have asked for. "—family, if you want it."

There was still sorrow in her eyes, but Rin gave a slight smile. "I'd like family."

"Me, too," said Obito, looking off to the side, deliberately not making eye contact with either of them, embarrassed by the admission.

"I wish Kakashi was here," said Rin, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. "Do you know where he is or how long he'll be gone?"

"No," said Minato. "What Kakashi does is his business. Remember, now that we're no longer on a team, a lot of our mission work is going to be classified. So, if you aren't told, it's best not to ask." Rin nodded distractedly and some of the light left her eyes, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through Minato, and he softened his voice. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Obito looked less pleased at that piece of news than Rin, so Minato moved on quickly. "How are you liking the hospital, Rin?"

"I really like it," she said, but quickly added: "I mean, don't get me wrong, you were the absolute best sensei I could have ever asked for, and I would never—"

"Rin, I want you to enjoy working at the hospital," interrupted Minato, before her rambling spiraled out of control. "It was my job to train you enough that you could go get a job that you're happy doing."

"Then, yeah," said Rin, relaxing back into her chair. "I really, really like it. I'm still in trial right now, but they're teaching me so much about medicine. My supervisor let me observe a surgery yesterday, and they're all so skilled. I hope I'm half as good as them one day."

"I'm sure you will be," said Minato, smiling. "What about you, Obito? How's the Academy?"

"It's okay." Obito crossed his arms and frowned. "I'd like it a lot better if I didn't know they just put me there because they don't think I'm good enough for field work."

"It's not like that," said Minato. "Building up the next generation of ninja is a huge service to the village—it's why I took the three of you on—and the Third Hokage put you there because he thought you'd be good at it. You're optimistic and kind, and that's what a lot of those kids are going to need. Remember, there's a lot of orphans that are going to come out of this war. You know how hard that is."

Obito nodded and some of the sullenness left him, but Minato had to admit, it was odd that both Rin and Obito were yanked out of mission work without even attempting to replace Kakashi. There were several jōnin who had dramatically more experience than Kakashi, who could easily take his place. When they reported the Kannabi Bridge mission to the Third, he gave no indication that he was anything but pleased with Kakashi's team or thought that they were distracting Minato in the slightest, given that both Minato and Team Kakashi had accomplished extraordinary wins for Konoha with little trouble. Logically, Minato thought that the Third would have kept the man power and put Obito and Rin on some squad, instead of pulling them from combat and taking up someone's time to train them to do different jobs than they were used to.

Unless, of course, the Third wasn't the one to make the decision at all.

Minato felt foolish for not realizing it before.

Jiraiya took away his team.

Logically, the Third shouldn't have had a change of heart. With whatever Jiraiya and Kakashi were up to, Jiraiya could have. After all, hadn't Jiraiya been the one to snatch up Kakashi out of nowhere? The Third, like Minato, trusted Jiraiya unquestionably, so Jiraiya could have easily convinced him to retire Obito and Rin to the village on the grounds of potentially distracted Minato, particularly since Jiraiya knew Minato better than anyone who wasn't Kushina.

Minato knew that doubting Jiraiya's rational was wrong, because Jiraiya usually had good reasons for the things he did, but that didn't stop the sting of betrayal that painfully zapped his chest.

No matter when it happens, you won't be ready.

Why did Jiraiya make that moment come prematurely?

What the hell did Kakashi and Jiraiya find?

(Outrunning Reality)

The twins, Yoshiki and Yoshiko, were born on the day the First Ninja World War ended, a cruel reminder to their mother that their father, who had died only weeks before, was so close to making it.

"How unlucky," people said. "Left to raise two children on her own."

It turned out she was lucky after all, because she was saved from the burden of single-parenthood when she was killed in a skirmish between her squad and a group of extremists still bitter about the war's conclusion. The twins, only one-years-old when it happened, were passed around from family to family over the years, never wanted for long.

"How unlucky," people said. "Orphaned so young and never finding a proper home."

Not that any of them ever did anything about it. That sort of unlove was unbearable to the twins, so they ran off in their early teens and watched out for one another, just them against the world.

Of course, until Yoshiko fell in love with a man seven years her senior. Raiden, a self-proclaimed poet and scholar, who traveled around with an ex-ninja, anti-war group. He spoke platitudes of peace, art, and love that fascinated the easily-impressed, sixteen-year-old, war-hurt Yoshiko, and he wrote ballads about her beauty that mesmerized her into traveling with his group full time.

Yoshiki thought Raiden was full of shit, but he would have never considered leaving his twin's side, so he let Yoshiko drag him along. However, he was jealous that he was no longer in his twin's number one spot, and it was made worse when Yoshiko unexpectedly got pregnant at seventeen.

Of course, until he saw niece Kaiya for the first time. He was instantly charmed by her, and he realized that his family was not being taken away from him due to Yoshiko's split attention; it was expanding. And, when Raiden really stepped up and became a better father than he was a poet, Yoshiki begrudgingly accepted him as part of their makeshift family, too.

For the first time in the twins' life, things started to look up.

Then, the Second Ninja World War began.

Their group did everything they could, but as outcasts, they didn't have the benefit of protection from a village. Rapidly, their companions—their friends—were killed off when they got caught in raids and skirmishes. Though it meant abandoning their cause, Raiden, Yoshiko, and Yoshiki knew it wasn't worth risking Kaiya's safety over, and they found an out-of-the-way village to take refuge in.

"How unlucky," people said. "Nowhere else to turn."

Raiden and Yoshiko, having never stayed in one place for more than a month since their youths, grew restless in the melancholy town they were trapped in. Yoshiki, who fell in love with the grocer's daughter, Jin, faired a bit better. By the time the war ended, Kaiya had been in the town long enough to grow up beside friends, and Yoshiki married Jin. So, the three ex-ninja decided they would stay in the town, to give both Kaiya and Jin a better life than they would have on the road.

The restlessness never went away, but they eventually found their footing. Yoshiki and Jin had two sons, Dai and Jun, named after both of Jin's grandfathers, and they took over the grocery when Jin's father passed. Raiden, stronger than anyone else in the village, took a job at the lumber mill and read poetry at the local bar three nights a week, and Yoshiko was taken under the wing of the town seamstress.

They never forgave the war for taking the traveling life away from them, but for the first time in the twins' life, things were steady.

Then, the Third Ninja World War began, and their town was no longer out of the way.

Raiden, Yoshiko, and Yoshiki could all protect themselves, so when their town was caught in the crossfire of a battle, they managed to get both themselves and one kid each to safety. Jin, on the other hand, could not, and when it came down to Yoshiki saving Jun or saving her, both knew what choice had to be made.

"How unlucky," people would've said, if only there had been someone left.

And just like that, they were thrown back into old habits, wandering aimlessly across the continent and beyond. Their hatred of war burning harder than it ever had, they were desperate to do something about it this time, to not be helpless in their efforts to stop it.

When they found the Akatsuki, it was a match made in heaven.

---

"I don't understand," said Jiraiya, as their newly formed team of six sat in a cramped shack in the Rain. "Why my hobby had to be shitty poetry, of all things. I hate poetry."

"Because, the only thing you're good at is being shitty at poetry," said Tsunade, brushing her newly mousey-brown hair out of her eyes. "Look, if I have to be common-law married to you for the next month or so, I want this one thing."

"You would take pleasure in my pain."

"You're certainly bickering like an old married couple," said Kakashi, leaning against the wall.

As Kakashi, Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Shizune could all change their appearance via jutsu, it was easy to pull off their disguises. Kakashi and Tsunade settled on mousey-brown hair and plain appearances, taking care to match their facial features enough to look like twins but not enough where it looked unnatural. Jiraiya insisted that he at least be a little better looking than they were, making his hair a nice shade of dark down, though he was nowhere above average. Shizune, through a little coaching from the three jōnin, looked like a descent combination of the two of them.

Tenzō and Kabuto were much harder to disguise, so they had to keep things simple. They left Tenzō's appearance alone, as his hair was similar to Kakashi's disguise, knowing they would have to bleach his hair and dye it gray before they went back to Konoha anyway. To match, they stuck a brown wig on Kabuto. Even if there was a ROOT spy, there was no way they would recognize Kabuto or Tenzō, and the likelihood of a ROOT member coming out of deep cover in the Akatsuki, traveling back to Konoha, and paying close attention to academy students was slim, so they decided that changing the boys' hair would be good enough. They just had to make it until January.

"Remember," said Kakashi to Kabuto and Tenzō. "Your names are Dai and Jun, Tsunade is Aunt Yoshiko, Jiraiya is Uncle Raiden, and Shizune is your cousin, Kaiya. We all have to act like family."

"And we're doing this so the bad guy can't get to us?" asked Kabuto, still confused as to why pretending to be a traveling family unit in the Land of Rain was going to stop someone in Konoha from getting to them if they were going back to Konoha anyway.

Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade felt bad about dragging two kids, neither of which were even genin, into an undercover operation in a country they'd never been to. Luckily, there were so many weird facets of the group they'd formed that no one could really focus on one thing for too long, which oddly helped give them a clear head after suffering through the whirlwind that was the previous two weeks. They could almost pretend that this was just another undercover mission—something they had all done a thousand times.

Almost.

"Yes," said Kakashi. "So, it's very important that you remember your story and not tell anyone about who you really are."

"Think of this as your first ninja mission," said Jiraiya. "Not many people get to go on a top-secret mission before they become genin. For the most part, just let us do all the talking."

"I won't let you down," said Tenzō, nodding intently, though it didn't hide the nervousness in his eyes, and he gently elbowed Kabuto. "We can do it, right Jun?"

Tenzō had accepted everything Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade told him without question. They were pretty certain he was just so grateful that someone rescued him that he would have taken on an army by himself if they asked him to, which didn't help their guilt.

"Right," said Kabuto, too young to really think of an argument against what they were doing. "…Dai."

"I'd ask if you were ready," said Jiraiya to Kakashi. "But your response to trauma is just to jump right into crazy shit, so you should be right at home."

It was disguised with a joke and an insult, but Jiraiya followed it with a humorless look, indicating that he really was asking. Kakashi gave him a slight bow of his head and an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise, asking the same. After a moment, Jiraiya shrugged and Kakashi returned it, both communicating something to the effect of "we're ninja; we can handle it." Shizune looked curiously between the pair, knowing that someone had obviously happened between the two of them and Tsunade, but Tsunade hadn't given her any specifics beyond that they needed her and she was taking Shizune undercover in the Rain with them.

Kakashi rolled his eyes, as if their interim moment hadn't happened. "Language, Raiden. We have kids."

"I swore around Kaiya, and she turned out just fine," said Tsunade, and Kakashi knew that wasn't just Yoshiko talking.

"Can I ask you a question before we turn into the other people for good?" whispered Kabuto, leaning in close to Kakashi. Kakashi nodded. "Was the guy who's my new uncle disguised when my mom gave me to you, too?"

"What do you mean?" asked Kakashi.

"You were in a disguise," he said, pointing at his face in a circular gesture around his mouth and nose. "Was he in a disguise, too?"

All of the adults now realizing what he was referring to, Jiraiya and Tsunade both grinned, though the later at least had the decency to hide it.

"I wasn't wearing a disguise," said Kakashi, having a feeling he wouldn't hear the end of his choice in accessory from Jiraiya for a while. "I always wear a mask."

"Oh," said Kabuto, before looking inquisitively at his now-maskless face. "Do you miss it?"

Jiraiya looked at Kabuto like he was his new favorite person, glad that there was someone else who could drag Kakashi as much as he did, even if it was unintentional.

---

The Ame Orphans had distinctive hair, Kakashi noticed. For as obsessed with the cloaks as Nagato was, wanting to be seen and feared from far away, Nagato, Konan, and Yahiko were victims of the "Sakura Problem." Sure, the pink-haired ninja obliterating trees with her bare hands in the distance could be anyone, but it wasn't difficult to make a good guess at them being Konoha's own medical darling.

Sure, the red-haired, the really-red-haired, and the blue-haired ninja walking towards them in the distance could be anyone, but it wasn't difficult to make a good guess at them being the three rampant murder machines.

Konoha had a rough history, full of atrocities of nearly every kind: hopeless wars, massacres, demon attacks, illegal human experiments, constant acts of treason by someone who was supposed to be leading the village, double invasions while people were just trying to watch the final round of the chūnin exams, and the list continued. There were a lot of different things that haunted a lot of different citizens of Konoha, ninja and civilian alike.

In all that, there was one moment, above everything else, that everyone agreed caused the world to stand still. One pivotal moment that still haunted people's dreams en masse—that made even the most hardened people in Konoha know the meaning of fear. One moment that Sakura could still see when she closed her eyes, she'd told him, and could make even Naruto pause when it was mentioned. One moment and two horrifying words that were etched into every crevice in Konoha.

Shinra Tensei.

Despite all the evils that were committed on Konoha's soil, Nagato and Konan were the only two people to ever bring it to the ground.

Yahiko was innocent in that, of course, but his murderous eyes were the last sight Kakashi saw before his death, so he wasn't exactly a welcome sight either.

Jiraiya noticed none of this, unblinkingly watching the orphans as they approached. But, Tsunade—because of course she would notice—gently nudged his shoulder with hers, and he looked down to meet her gaze. There was concern in her eyes, seeing in him what she must knew other people saw in her, but there was also fear. The ramifications of dealing with the Akatsuki must have hit her, what they were capable of and what Kakashi, Jiraiya, and her could be implicated in if things with south, and she was giving him every opportunity to call it quits.

Looking at the Akatsuki leaders growing ever-closer to the shack they were hiding in, he wished he could consider it.

"It's nothing Naruto wouldn't do," he mouthed to her.

"We're not Naruto," she mouthed back. "Not even close."

"No," he agreed. "But Naruto deserved to do a lot less than he had to."

That seemed to take the argument out of her, but she still looked uneasy.

"All we have to do is convince them to help us kill Danzō," he said. "Which is easy, because the whole world wants to kill Danzō."

"I think half the world's desire to murder Danzō comes from you."

"Would you rather not kill him?"

"Of course, I want to," she admitted. "I'd sure as hell sleep a lot better if he was dead."

"So," he said, nodding his head towards the orphans. "Let's kill Danzō."

"Let's kill Danzō," she agreed, and it gave both the resolve to push forward.

---

Jiraiya couldn't see what Tsunade and Kakashi were mouthing to one another, as Kakashi's back was turned towards him, blocking Tsunade's shorter frame, but he could tell they were having a moment of silent conversation. At first, he thought nothing of it, as there were a lot of things to say that needed to be kept silent in current company. But, when Kakashi turned away from her and back towards the oncoming orphans, Tsunade smiled at him when he wasn't looking in a way that gave Jiraiya pause.

A few things jumped into his mind, namely Kakashi's avoidance of the answer to what he said to Tsunade that convinced her to give him the necklace. Before he could really consider anything, though, there was a knock on the door of the shack. Two shorts, two longs, and then three rapid shorts—the old code they used to use when Jiraiya trained the orphans originally. After knocking back four times, the confirmation of the code, Jiraiya opened the door to let them in.

"Hey," said Yahiko, grinning as he clapped Jiraiya on the shoulder, and joking: "You've certainly changed since we last saw you."

"Turns out, when you're born with white hair, age turns it brown," joked Jiraiya, before catching sight of Konan. "Speaking of changes, you eighteen, yet?"

"You came just a few months too early," said Konan good-naturedly.

"It's why I had to snag her up," said Yahiko, in kind. "I figured you'd be back."

"I taught you guys well," said Jiraiya, grinning.

Then, there was Nagato, following closely behind the other two and shutting the door as he came in. Sensitive, pacifist Nagato, who would later try and burn the world in order to save it. Of the three orphans Jiraiya thought was capable of leading a group dedicated to large-scale destruction, Nagato was not the one he would have picked.

Of course, little, squishy-faced Kabuto would apparently go on to kill even more people than Nagato, so there really was no telling. As far as Jiraiya was concerned, Nagato fell under the same clause; he was just a kid who needed saving.

Judging by the looks on Kakashi's and Tsunade's faces, eerily similar due to their newfound features, they were feeling less confident.

"It's good to see you again, Jiraiya," said Nagato.

"I'm really glad to see you guys again," said Jiraiya, meaning it even with what he knew, before gesturing towards the woman who no longer looked anything like his old teammate. "You remember Tsunade, don't you?"

A slew of introductions went around, some more awkward than others, but the Akatsuki didn't seem to notice.

"We were surprised to hear from you," said Nagato, once everyone was familiar. "With the war going on."

"Not that it isn't welcome," said Yahiko. "We were hoping to extend an invitation to you before long. We've made a lot of progress and gained a few really good people that I think you'll be pleased with."

"I've been keeping tabs on you guys," said Jiraiya. "And I have been really proud of what you've been doing."

Even the ever-stoic Konan looked pleased with that.

"I do have business to discuss with you," said Jiraiya. "But first, we just want to observe—come stay awhile in disguise."

"As I said, we'd love to have you," said Yahiko. "We've got a meeting this evening that we've got to get back for. It'll be the perfect introduction to our organization."

"Then, lead the way."

(The Rain)

The Akatsuki's current hideout was in an old bunker—judging by the amount of rust, a relic from the days before ninja villages. Because there were already six of them and they had children in their party, the Konoha group was allowed their own room, a cramped, standalone barrack with three bunkbeds barely packed inside. Kabuto was thrilled with the idea of sleeping on a top bunk, finding being up that high a very grown up thing to do, while Tenzō, in his claustrophobia, was less thrilled.

("You can discuss whatever you like when you're in the room," the adults told Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto when they deposited them in the room before the meeting. They decided against taking the kids to the assembly, to give them the alibi of ignorance as much as possible. "But always lock the door, stay together, use the codewords we taught you to verify one another's identities, and use codenames even when you're in the room, so you get into the habit.")

Doubling as a mess hall, they assumed, based on the tables lined against the wall, the Akatsuki's meeting room was a spacious area lined with rows of benches from back to front. At the very head, Yahiko leaned against a wooden podium that looked almost as old as the bunker itself, talking to two Akatsuki members they didn't recognize. There were already several people in the hall when they arrived, so they had to snag a seat in the middle, and several more people shuffled in as the minutes passed closer to start, methodically filling in the rows from front backwards. Despite the rest of the organization's eagerness to sit as close to the podium as they could, Konan and Nagato stood in the back, pressed up against the wall and watching everyone closely.

"Welcome, welcome," said Yahiko at time, and all the chatter in the room immediately ceased. "To those of you who've been in the bunker, thank you for joining us today, and to those of you who've been graciously outside the bunker gathering intel—" He gestured to a group of ninja in the middle, and they gave a quick cheer in response. "—we're glad to have you back.

"We talk about war a lot here," continued Yahiko. "The Akatsuki was started because of the devastation in the Second Ninja World War, and we tripled in numbers at the start of the Third. In every one of our meetings, we've discussed war, and we're inevitably going to discuss war today."

He paused, making intent, sweeping eye contact with everyone in the room.

"Given this, some might make the mistaken assumption that our group is built on war—that our group functions because of war. But, make no mistake, we have laid our foundations on peace. Each and every one of you is here because of your inspiring and unwavering dedication to peace."

There were a couple of enthusiastic hurrahs from the group, and the sound reverberated across the hall.

"I did not call all of you here today to talk about war," said Yahiko. "According to our intel, the war is at the beginning of its end, and peace is on the horizon. And, because we are a group that is built on peace, we will rise with it as the dawn. I have called you here today because our true purpose has just begun."

Another chorus of acclamations broke out, louder and more numerous this time.

"For our first order of business," said Yahiko. "I'm sure you've all noticed that there are three new comrades among us." Yahiko nodded towards the Konoha adults. "Would you like to introduce yourselves?"

The adults made a mild, intentional show of deciding who would do the honors, before Jiraiya got up and walked towards the front. Jiraiya was best at gathering intel when he was actively chasing it, while Kakashi was best at gathering intel when he was passively observing it. So, they decided that the twins would be on the quieter side, particularly since Tsunade was best at running support, and Raiden would be the louder of the three who usually did the talking.

"My name's Raiden," said Jiraiya, taking the podium after Yahiko welcomed him to it. "Back there's my wife Yoshiko and her twin brother Yoshiki. We got three kids with us, too: Yoshiko's and I's daughter Kaiya, and Yoshiki's two sons, Dai and Jun. Me and the twins were part of another peace group back in the day, but it was torn apart in the Second War when most of our numbers were killed. For the sake of my daughter, the three of us settled down in a town northwest of here, and we thought we were safe."

Pausing, Jiraiya looked like the words were physically difficult to get out. "But, when the Third Ninja World War started, our town wasn't so safe anymore. It burned to ash in a single night, destroyed by a raid that took the life of my sister-in-law and made Yoshiki a single father, and the rest of us barely got out with our lives." Jiraiya curled his right hand into a fist and clapped it against his left palm in an expression of resolve. "But, we're sick of running, and we're not doing it again. We want to make a change this time—do what we couldn't do in our youths—and end this cycle of war and suffering."

"May you rise with us as the dawn," said Yahiko, taking back the podium, and Jiraiya retook his seat by Tsunade. "We welcome you into our numbers."

A series of ununified greetings broke out, some echoing Yahiko's sentiment of "may you rise with us as the dawn" and others just saying some variation of "hello," and Yahiko quickly took back control. "Now, onto our second order of business—"

The meeting was long enough that there was a lot of content to mull over, but not so long that it dragged—around an hour. For most of the time, various ninja presented the intel that they'd gathered for group consideration, and though none of it was news to the Konoha ninja (though what could be, at this point?), it was still an impressive wealth of information. Between the lot of them, they had as good of a grasp on the happenings of the war as any ninja village.

They had to give it to Yahiko; he knew how to work a room. With each presentation, he made the presenter feel as if their contribution was the most important thing being said in the world at that time. He listened attentively, never once losing his focus, and was quick to give encouragement when it was needed. At the very end of the meeting, he opened up a brief, Socratic discussion as to their next move, as if he valued their opinions as much as he valued his own.

"There is no such thing as inaction in war," said Yahiko in conclusion. "All wars will eventually end—such is the nature of them—but peace, lasting peace, is like a garden. When work is put into prepping the soil and tending to the plants, a harvest will grow and prosper. However, in wars past, there was little effort put into building a strong base for peace to thrive in. A resolution was merely dumped at the finish line, and like seeds in bitter soil, nothing took, leading to another vicious cycle of war and death—wars which caused villages to grow more hostile and less likely to make concessions.

"We have to be the ones to break the cycle. To do nothing in war is to support the destruction it causes, and we must refuse to conform to the rest of the world in their inactivity. With the means at our disposal, we will build the foundations that have been ignored for so long, and we will rise out of them with peace for a new era."

Yahiko clenched his right fist and placed it over his heart. "We will rise as the dawn."

"We will rise as the dawn," repeated the group, with the same amount of unwavering conviction, placing their hands over their hearts.

The room was alight with energy as the meeting ended and several excited conversations broke out, celebrating the potential ending of the war and optimistically planning for their future. Yahiko was in the middle of it all, easily switching from one conversation to the next, thriving in the attention of the hubbub.

Finally able to make proper conversation, the various Akatsuki members passed around Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya in a whirlwind of introductions, shaking their hands and welcoming them into the organization. The Konoha adults played their covers with smiles, concealing the internal dread they were starting to feel after witnessing Yahiko's almost hypnotic, persuasive authority.

Despite the life in the room, Konan and Nagato never moved from the back, standing like statuesque protectors on both sides of the door.

---

When Shizune turned twelve, Tsunade decided she was too old to not be a genin, so she sent her back to the village for a few days to take the Genin Exam. Tsunade didn't come with her, of course, but she did wait in a small town that was halfway between the Fire country's outer border and Konoha, and she provided Shizune with enough money to stay in a hotel for a few days and feed herself. Tsunade's strict instructions were simple: get in, lay low, take the exam, and return to her.

Shizune wasn't sure why being a genin mattered, because it wasn't as if anything she and Tsunade did would change, but Shizune was too young when they left the village to properly remember it and her curiosity made her eager to agree.

It was both the best and worst decision she had ever made. Catching sight of the village for the first time nearly knocked her off her feet. It was home—a place that was hazy in her memories but not totally forgotten, judging by the painful ache in her chest. She had felt a longing for stability before, a longing for a regular life and friends her own age, but for the first time in her life, she felt truly homesick. There was a place and a culture that her family belonged to, that Tsunade belonged to, that she belonged to.

She would have never considered leaving Tsunade. Tsunade had raised her and trained her, and Shizune owed her everything. But, knowing that she had to leave the village again made her so forlorn that, on her first night in the village, she collapsed onto the bed in her hotel room and cried. It made her feel very childish, but she felt uncontrollably alone, and she sobbed until exhaustion dragged her off to sleep.

The Academy registrar did not show any recognition when she gave her name, so Shizune, for a moment, thought she was in the clear in regard to laying low. But, when the registrar pulled her file to verify her citizenship, he suddenly paused in the middle of reading it and gave her a hard look.

"Shizune, you said?" he asked, and she knew any hopes she had of cover were blown.

"Yes," she said, freezing in place, unsure if Tsunade would prefer for her to stay and take the exam regardless or just make a run for it.

"Wait here, for a moment." He got up from his place at the desk and looked at the ANBU guard in the room significantly, and Shizune knew that waiting was less of a request and more of an order. "I'll be right back."

Nervously glancing at the clock on the wall every minute or so, Shizune knew that, logically, it only took him fifteen minutes to return, but with the ANBU ninja watching her like a hawk the entire time, it felt like hours.

"I'll schedule your exam for tomorrow morning at eight," he said, sitting back down, and then just as lightly: "And the Hokage asks that you meet him presently for lunch in his office."

Tsunade always spoke of the village and its inhabitants in a detached manner, as if it was just some place that she once lived and nothing more. However, there were a few names that made the aloofness feel a little more forced when she said them—a few people she was prone to share stories about when she drank a little too much. As such, if Shizune was less terrified, she would have felt instantly warm towards the Third Hokage, knowing that, despite her best attempts to hide it, Tsunade both thought highly of him and missed him.

But, she was terrified. She was alone in a village that was basically unfamiliar, being led by a special operations soldier to meet one of the most powerful ninja in the world, without any idea as to what he wanted from her. So, she walked into the office on edge, readying for a conflict she knew she was not nearly skilled enough to take on.

"Shizune," he said, smiling kindly. "I don't know if you remember me."

She didn't, but she bowed respectfully anyway and said, "It's nice to see you again, Hokage, sir."

The Hokage dismissed the ANBU ninja from the room and invited her to sit down. "Tea?" he asked, pouring a cup for himself and readying a second one.

"Thank you," she said, sitting down, unsure if she had just accepted or refused.

Taking it as acceptance, he poured her a cup and took his team fiddling with both of their teas. Slower than she thought was necessary, he carefully put his teapot somewhere out of the way and stacked papers into arbitrary piles to make room for the cups, and the nerves eventually got to her.

"I'm not going to tell you where she is," she blurted out.

He paused for the briefest of moments before giving her a slight smile and placing the last stack of papers out of the way. "You're a brave girl," he said, passing her the cup of tea. "But, I'm not going to make you tell me where Tsunade is. What Tsunade does is her business, and what you do is yours. I just wanted to chat because it's been a very long time."

"Oh," she said, relaxing into her chair a little, before the severity of what she'd just done hit her, and she momentarily panicked again. "I'm sorry, Hokage, sir, that was inappropriate."

Nodding, he accepted her apology. "Are you in the village long?"

"No. Lady Tsunade is waiting for me. I want to get back to her as soon as I can."

"And how is my former student?"

Light and impartial, his tone was reminiscent of someone discussing the weather, and had it been anyone else, Shizune would have taken it at face value. It seemed that, despite Tsunade's claims that Orochimaru was the one that took after the Third Hokage, she picked up at least one habit from him. The inflection and the body language were an eerie mirror of Tsunade's attempting to sound removed from something that she wasn't.

Shizune often wondered and tried to subtly pull information out of Tsunade about the people that she missed, but it had never occurred to Shizune to wonder about the people that missed Tsunade.

"She's good. Still…still retired but good."

"And yourself?"

"Good," she said more confidently. "Lady Tsunade is the best teacher I could have asked for, and we travel all over the place. It's nice."

"I'm glad to hear that you're taking the Genin Exam," he said. "Konoha could always use more ninja, even if those ninja are far away."

"It was Lady Tsunade's idea," she admitted. "She said that I was getting too old to not be a chūnin, much less a genin."

He smiled. "That doesn't surprise me. Did she tell you that she became a genin at six?" Shizune shook her head. "Yes, all of the Sannin did—they're still the youngest kids to ever graduate from the Academy. She was always very proud of that fact."

"Oh." It didn't surprise Shizune, given that Tsunade was famous for being legendary, but as Tsunade rarely talked about her ninja days, it was still nice to hear, and she couldn't help but inquire further. "When did they become chūnin?"

"That very same year, just six months after graduating. The other genin hated them because they were all six and still better than the rest of them. Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya, prideful as they were, loved it—"

The Third was quick to give stories about the Sannin and Konoha in general, and Shizune went from terrified to endeared faster than a flash of lightning, eager to absorb all the things that Tsunade wouldn't talk about. For nearly four hours he entertained her, as if they were old friends, and he inquired just as much about her travels as she did about Konoha. Suspecting he really just wanted to hear about how Tsunade was doing, Shizune tried to pull the least trashy but still exciting stories she could think of.

When it came time to say goodbye, it pained her.

"I wish you luck on your exam," said the Third. "Not that I think you'll need it."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "And thank you for lunch."

"Of course. Know that you are welcome back to the village at any time."

Shizune knew that the "you" in his sentence wasn't singular.

"Thank you," she said, forcing a smile. "I hope to see you and the village again soon."

With that, she whipped around at left, forbidding herself from showing any signs of doubt in front of him. She had no desire to divulge the fact that she was almost certain Tsunade was never coming back.

When Shizune returned to her, she did not divulge about her meeting with the Third, instead assuring her that no one recognized her. Shizune wasn't sure how Tsunade would react to the knowledge that she met with her old sensei and had no desire to upset her. To this day, it was the only thing Shizune ever hid from her.

Yet, here they were, somehow, almost two years later, and the only thing standing between Shizune and home was a bizarre but promised-to-be-short trip to stay in a bunker with the most motley crew that she could have imagined.

As far as Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto were concerned, the only thing that the three of them had in common was that they were all dragged along on this weird mission, and if the three of them were better socialized, that probably would have been enough to bring them together. But, as Shizune hardly spoke to anyone who wasn't Tsunade, Kabuto had never left the orphanage, and Tenzō was, for all intents and purposes, a little over two weeks old, they spent a good ten minutes awkwardly staring at one another in silence before Shizune had the idea to fish through Tsunade's stuff to find a deck of cards.

Shizune didn't know any card games that weren't meant for gambling and Tenzō didn't know any games at all, so they let Kabuto teach them a card game that he learned at the orphanage, where one had to slap the top of the desk depending on certain card combinations and one's ultimate goal was to lose all of their cards.

"I wonder if my mother would be good at this game," said Shizune aloud, as a joke to herself, forgetting that neither Tenzō nor Kabuto would have any context for it.

"Is your mother good at games?" asked Tenzō.

"No, she's terrible. The only thing she's good at is losing."

"Then why were we at a casino?"

"She likes gambling, anyway," said Shizune, placing down a card that earned a slap. Her reflexes were much faster than their due to her amount of training, so she intentionally let Kabuto "take" it to even out the playing field. "She goes into debt in every town that we stay in." Shizune pressed her lips into a frown. "I don't know why, but your dad paid back half of the money she owed in that town. He wanted to pay back all of it, but she insisted he only pay half."

"Did he owe her money?" asked Tenzō.

"I don't think so. I never leave my mother's side, and I had never seen him before him and my dad showed up." She looked at Kabuto. "Did the two of them say anything to you when you were on your way to meet up with us?"

Kabuto shook his head. "My mother gave me to them late at night, so I fell asleep."

"Who are they, exactly?" asked Tenzō to Shizune. "Are they important or something?"

"My parents are very important," said Shizune, with pride. "They used to be on a team called the Sannin with one other man, and the three of them are considered to be three of the best ninja in the entire world." Shizune paused, not wanting to bring up too many details about Tsunade's past, but the main one was unavoidable. "My mother is retired now; she doesn't practice ninja work or medicine anymore. But, before that, she was known as the best medical-nin to ever live."

"She's a medical-nin?" asked Kabuto, his eyes lighting up, so distracted that he missed an easy slap that Tenzō swiped instead.

"Was."

Well, maybe. Shizune was, in many regards, confused as to what exactly Tsunade's plans were. She was on a mission and they were returning home, but as far as Shizune knew, she was still just as afraid of blood as she was a week ago.

"I want to be a medical-nin when I grow up," he said. "My mother taught me how to heal people at the orphanage, and she said that Konoha would teach me even more things."

"I can teach you a couple things while we're here, if you'd like," said Shizune. "My mother has taught me a ton of things."

"Yes, please," he said, nearly giddy at the prospect, and Shizune smiled at his enthusiasm.

"What about my dad?" asked Tenzō. "Is he important?"

"I don't know," she said, and the smile slipped off her face. "I'd never even heard of him before, but my mother and I travel around a lot and we usually miss some news. I know he's the son of an old friend of my mother and father, though, and he was a famous ninja, so your dad might be, too."

"So, is this mission super important, too?"

There were so many unusual, mysterious variables at play that she had no idea where to begin to understand the situation, and several of them bothered her a great deal. For starters, out of nowhere, Jiraiya and the son of their dead friend showed up with a kid who had been illegally experimented on and almost instantaneously convinced Tsunade to return to the village, something even a war attempting to obliterate their village couldn't do.

Then, there was the whole Rain business in the first place. Whatever they told Tsunade, it prompted them to adopt a seemingly random, young orphan. Then, the two Sannin plus Kakashi dragged all of them to the hideout of an organization in a country they didn't belong to (and what kind of organization even was this?). Their three tagalongs were given no explanation for this nor their need of cover, only vaguely alluding to the fact that it would help them stop an unnamed "bad guy."

The least important of these, though perhaps the most vexing, was that Kakashi, despite being a couple months younger than she was, got to be disguised as an adult. She, on the other hand, still had to be undercover as a thirteen-year-old and was being lumped in with a nine-year-old and a five-year-old. Why Tsunade and Jiraiya treated Kakashi so much different than her was beyond her, and it made her feel a little humiliated in his presence.

In short, Shizune had no idea what was happening, but if it was enough to bring Tsunade out of retirement, she was sure of one thing:

"If I had to guess," she said. "Very."

---

When Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi came back from the meeting, they kicked the kids out of the room on the grounds of telling them to go grab dinner before bed ("stay together," they reiterated), giving them the privacy to debrief.

"Yahiko," said Tsunade, sitting down crisscross at the head of her bed, after they had briefly discussed, strategically, who should take what bunk. Tsunade took the middle one, under Tenzō, Jiraiya took the one closest to the door, under Shizune, and Kakashi took the one against the back wall, under Kabuto. "Is one charismatic motherfucker."

The two men gave noises of agreement as they took their place at the foot of their own bunks. Both too tall to properly sit, Kakashi slouched and leaned against one of the posts holding up the top bunk, while Jiraiya had to sprawl out entirely, resting his elbow on the bed and his head in his hand.

"I think the biggest mistake Zetsu made in the last timeline was letting Yahiko get killed," said Jiraiya. "Evil Yahiko could have persuaded entire countries to fight for him."

Like they had so often over the past couple weeks, the three of them fell into an awkward silence, trying to figure out how to interact with one another. Externally, their experience allowed them to seamlessly unify, and they were familiar enough with one another to make plans and put up a front worthy of the ninja they were known for being. After all, though they hadn't seen one another in a decade, Jiraiya and Tsunade spent their childhoods until their late twenties together, and things like that were not easily forgotten. Kakashi was close to Tsunade, even if she didn't remember it, and Jiraiya was projecting some of his feelings about his old friend onto Kakashi, creating a bond there, too.

Internally, though, when they no longer had to pretend to be other people, and weapons were put away, and it was just them, the strained, half-familiarity was what made things uncomfortable and bizarre, akin to going on a delicate mission with two exes.

Jiraiya, in particular, had been in that scenario a few too many times to know that it never went well.

"So, our plan," said Tsunade, not wanting to dwell on it. "How exactly are we talking to these people?"

"If Jiraiya continues to play the extrovert," said Kakashi. "It gives me an excuse to hang back and talk to people alone, which would be perfect if Yahiko wasn't also the center of attention. So, to start, I think we should play to our strengths and each grab the orphan that makes the most sense."

Though their ultimate goal was to get Kakashi and Yahiko talking, they still had time to make it happen organically. To get Yahiko to really trust them, Kakashi planned on pitching him the idea of a union between all of the shinobi countries in great depth—the union he had actually lived in his previous life—as well as ideas on how to achieve it. Knowing Yahiko's grand desire for peace, they hoped he would eat it up enough to bond with Kakashi as a fellow visionary, instilling a trust in all of them

"I entertain Yahiko," guessed Jiraiya. "While you and Tsunade start warming up to Nagato and Konan."

Kakashi nodded. "Yahiko wants to support the world, but the two of them are the one's supporting him. If we can get them to trust us—" It both was and wasn't funny, as things tended to go in grim situations, and a bleak smile crossed his face. "—we can build the foundations for peace."

Tsunade rolled her eyes, finding it further on the "wasn't funny" end of the spectrum than he did.

"I think it's a good start," said Jiraiya. "We should play it for two weeks and then reevaluate. That gives us a month to try and get you and Yahiko alone a couple of times."

"You make it sound like I'm trying to seduce him," said Kakashi.

"If you fuck up the union plan, you might have to." This earned him a well-deserved bird from Kakashi, but it didn't phase Jiraiya. "We shouldn't rush things, but we should drop the news about Hanzō and Danzō shortly after you're confident you've convinced him of your Shinobi Union thing and tell them to keep quiet until January. We can get back to Konoha faster, which I'm sure the kids will appreciate, because that's where we told them we were going in the first place."

"God, they must be so confused," said Tsunade, after giving a closed-mouth, barely-humored laugh. "We basically kidnapped two of them and forced them to stay with a cult."

"You know what they say," said Kakashi. "Exposure to cults at a young age builds character."

"Would you say," said Jiraiya, trying far too hard to look serious. "It builds the foundations for peace?"

Grabbing the closest object to her—Kakashi's pillow—Tsunade threw it at Jiraiya's face, and he lazily blocked it with a smirk on his face, even her superior strength not enough to counteract the wind resistance and softness of the pillow to do any real damage. A moment later, he paused, and the humor left him, the ghost of his smile still barely clinging to his face.

"When are we going to talk about the fact that we're being played?" he asked.

"I don't have any new revelations for you on that topic," said Kakashi.

"But, we are being played," said Jiraiya. "There's no way in hell that you coming back on the morning of the Kannabi Bridge mission was a coincidence."

"Yes," said Kakashi softly, slumping back against the post a little further. "We are being played."

Looking back on his last lifetime, Kakashi realized that he'd taken the short amount of time that the peak weirdness and magnitude of conflict occurred for granted. Though the Fourth Ninja World War was a whirlwind like he'd never experienced, it was a metaphorical ripping-off-the-bandage—by the time he had properly processed everything, it was long over, and the need to wonder was gone. This time around, however, the second apocalypse was theoretically eighteen years away, leaving plenty of time for it to plague him.

Tsunade and Jiraiya were still in the "processing" phase, if trying to ignore everything around them so they could sleep at night could be considered processing. Both thought they had hit rock bottom, but life, as it always did, continued to outdraw them. In the flash of a moment, they found out that rock bottom was far below what either of them had ever seen. Their situations, the entire world's situation, were so worse than they could have dreamed, and it shook them in ways that even Jiraiya found hard to articulate.

"If I had to guess," said Kakashi. "Kaguya and Zetsu managed to come back, too, otherwise this was a shitty plan on her part. But, if that's the case, there's no reason that I would have needed to come back to save Obito, because Zetsu could have just told Madara to pick a better successor."

"I'd say that maybe she just wants you to make a lot of changes," said Jiraiya. "Hoping that something you do causes the war to go in her favor, but it's all the wrong changes. She would want to make changes that drive the world apart, and you, no matter when you were brought back, would always inevitably use your future knowledge to bring everyone together sooner. We've already grabbed Kabuto, we're already in the Rain trying to bring the Akatsuki on our side, we're already making plans to kill Danzō…why would she have you come back at the one time you could fix as much as you wanted to?"

"Is there a way that Kaguya could have even banked on Kakashi touching the crystal in the first place?" asked Tsunade. "Sure, she would have known that Naruto and Sasuke would've had to go and try to deal with it, but Kakashi and Sakura just went because they felt a sense of obligation and didn't want Naruto and Sasuke to go alone."

"Unless, she was banking on that sense of obligation," said Kakashi. It was a stretch, but he couldn't consider it completely out of the realm of possibility. "Sakura said something when—" She died, added the terrible, little voice in his head, but he wasn't ready to give up hope, wasn't ready to let go, he couldn't, and the words got caught in his throat. "She said, 'I suppose it was always meant to be the four of us, even now—'" At the very end. "As I said, I don't like playing the destiny card, but I've seen too much to discount it entirely."

"I don't like any of this," said Jiraiya. "I don't like that we don't know. We're three steps ahead of the rest of the world, but we're somehow three steps behind her. We know absolutely everything except the one thing we need to know most. Somehow, we're being played."

"Either way," said Tsunade. "Are either of you willing to step out of the game? Let Danzō live and hand him Kabuto and Tenzō? Hand over Obito to Madara? Let Minato and Kushina die?"

Jiraiya's and Kakashi's silence spoke such great volumes that none of the three even felt it was worth acknowledging.

"Minato and Kushina," said Jiraiya, steering the conversation back towards something productive. Despite the Armageddon and everything else, their deaths—the thought of losing them—were still haunting him the most. "Best case scenario, we prevent the attack from happening altogether, but worse comes to worst, as long as we make sure we're there and everyone's prepared, Minato should be fine, but—" Jiraiya looked at Tsunade. "—what are the odds of Kushina surviving the extraction?"

"She's an Uzumaki, so she's got a better chance than most," said Tsunade. "The extraction killed Mito, but they only extracted it after she was dying. Childbirth will make it harder for her, but if she's otherwise fine and she receives proper medical care in time, I say she's got at least a chance."

Jiraiya got a weird look on his face. "Could you survive the extraction?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're an Uzumaki and you've got that thing," said Jiraiya, nodding to her forehead. "Which makes you nearly immortal as long as you're conscious. If it got ripped out of Kushina, and we put it in you until Naruto was old enough, could you survive the extraction?"

Though her first instinct was to argue, and she probably should have argued, and though Kakashi knew Tsunade's first instinct was to argue, and he probably should have tried to prevent the bizarre altercation that could follow Jiraiya's words, neither could force the words to come out. If no one else, Tsunade could—

Before any of them could say anything else on the matter, the kids knocked and peeked in through the door, and the adults snapped back into character like nothing was the matter. However, it was not forgotten.

But, more on that later.

(Unease)

Their first night in the Rain, Tenzō woke up screaming.

It was hard to say which of the adults was awake first, differing only by milliseconds, but Kakashi was the first at his side. Jiraiya's first response was to pull a weapon and Tsunade's was to look around wildly for Shizune and prepare to grab her and bolt, so it took them both a couple seconds of blinking the sleep out of their eyes to fully register who was yelling and why.

"Cramped," repeated Tenzō, looking around frantically without seeing anything, the rest of his body unmoving as if invisible binds were holding him to the bed. "Cramped. Cramped."

"We're in the Rain, remember?" asked Kakashi softly, unsure of what words he should say to comfort him. "We're far away, in the Rain."

"Three thirty-five," said Tsunade, looking at her watch, her voice breathless as she tried to compose herself. By this point, Shizune and Kabuto were awake and sitting up in bed, and Jiraiya and Kakashi both shushed the one closest to them. "Someone remember three thirty-five."

"What do we do?" asked Jiraiya.

"Wait for it to ride out," said Tsunade. "It'll pass."

For four-and-a-half disquieting minutes, they stood in silence and watched Tenzō's night terror (except for Kakashi, who was trying to quietly but hastily explain to Kabuto what a night terror was), deliberately not making eye contact with one another in the uncomfortableness of the moment. Eventually, it did pass, and Tenzō's body relaxed into the bed in sleep. No one dared to move for several moments, almost afraid it would start back up again.

"Don't…don't mention this to him tomorrow," said Tsunade. "There's a chance, when he wakes up, that he won't remember it."

---

He didn't.

---

Their first couple of days with the Akatsuki were surprisingly mundane. In many ways, the Akatsuki was similar to the ANBU; there was the same sort of forced routine that came from desperately clinging to normalcy in an abnormal life. In depth mission work and plans weren't discussed outside of meetings, and regular conversations mainly consisted of general happening around the bunker and the passionate discussions and debates that one might expect of a revolutionary group.

Fifteen years ago, Kakashi would have been right in his element. Hokage Kakashi, however, had fallen out of practice with regular life and no longer knew how to be a soldier. He was good at adapting, of course, and showed no signs of this unfamiliarity, but he had trouble shaking the subtle feeling of something being wrong, like looking at a painting on the wall that was tilted just slightly to the left.

He did not discuss it with her, but he could tell Tsunade had yet to fall into her footing, either. Every so often, he caught her staring at her surroundings in disbelief, like if she blinked a few times, she might be back in a casino somewhere.

Jiraiya was harder to read—much harder. He found his use in the group by telling stories, though, using their cover as wanderers to give the occupants of the bunker some much craved tales of the world outside. When he sat at one of the tables in the common area and spoke, everyone naturally gravitated around him, pulling up benches in a half-circle shape to listen. All three of the kids sat at his feet, just as enamored, and Tsunade sat by his side, pretending to be just as enamored. Playing their cover, Kakashi sat behind the crowd.

"What direction did you say that you came to the Rain from, again?" asked one of the Akatsuki members.

"South," said Jiraiya. "Far south. We spent some time hopping from island to island north of the Land of Sea, before taking a boat to the Land of Tea, where we found out about—" Jiraiya gestured around the room. "We were nervous, of course, coming so far north, further north than we'd been in several months, but we took a boat to the Land of Rivers and went through there, and it didn't give us any trouble."

"We hid out in the Land of Rivers for a while," said Yahiko. "We're thinking of going back, soon, actually. It's usually quiet. They don't tend to care about anyone's problems but their own."

"And what of the southern islands?" asked another member. "We've not heard any information about them in a while. Are they still at peace?"

Jiraiya nodded. "They take after the Land of Rivers. Or, maybe, the Land of Rivers takes after them. They stay out of the mainland wars and stick to their own, if they have to have them. 'Cept, they usually settle their own wars by boat. When we were in the Land of Moon, we saw an old war vessel that was as tall as a mountain and as wide as the sea itself. They say it was used when the Land of Sea started a war with the United Islands—"

It was fascinating how easy stories came to Jiraiya. Kakashi wasn't sure if Jiraiya's story about the sea-bound battle was true, not knowing enough about the islands to say one way or the other, but it didn't really matter. The entire room was silent, captivated by the animated way Jiraiya told his story as he described the war like he was there.

Though Kakashi did not like it as well as his romance novels, of course, and as much as he liked giving him shit, Jiraiya was pleasant to listen to. Jiraiya had a way with words unlike anybody he'd ever met. Unlike the other great speakers Kakashi knew, like Yahiko, who spoke to persuade, and Naruto, who spoke to inspire, Jiraiya just spoke to bring people joy for the hell of it.

"Not much for stories?"

Kakashi turned to see a man sit down at his table a couple seats down. He was older than most of the Akatsuki, at least fifty, if not older.

"If you'd heard him talk as much as I have," said Kakashi. "You'd be sick of the stories, too."

The man snorted. "I'm Yuuto, by the way."

"Yoshiki," introduced Kakashi, and they shook hands.

They fell into a natural silence, listening to Jiraiya tell his story, before Yuuto said, "I lost my wife about four years back. It's what motivated me to come here."

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Kakashi.

"I'm sorry for yours."

Though it was part of their cover and therefore unavoidable, Kakashi felt bad for misplacing Yuuto's sympathies. It wasn't of much consequence, because it wasn't as if people had a limited capacity to care for others, but it sat wrong with him all the same.

"How are you faring?" asked Yuuto.

"It's easier with the two of them," said Kakashi, nodding towards Jiraiya and Tsunade. "I don't even want to know where I'd be without out them. But, as you know, there's no good time to lose your wife."

Yuuto nodded. "How are your kids faring?"

"Dai is taking it pretty badly. There's never a good time to lose your mother, either, and the way she was taken…he still wakes up screaming, sometimes. I like to think Jun's faring better, but honestly, I think he's just too young to fully understand."

"Give your boys time to adjust. It'll take time for all of you."

"It's just—you take a vow to protect her, right? You go up, and you swear to protect her, and you think you're in the clear." Kakashi wasn't sure where any of this was coming from, but in the spirit of his cover, he didn't try and stop it. "I look back on that moment and I know there was something that I could have done, that I should have done, because I swore to protect her, but she slipped right through my grasp. Now, because I couldn't, she's just…gone forever, and I don't know how to make peace with that."

"I'm going to be honest, kid," said Yuuto, resting his arms on the table. "You might feel guilty for the rest of your life. It's just how things go sometimes. But, your life ain't over. You have to hold onto what you have and piece yourself back together from it. You've still got your boys, and that's a start. You've still got your sister and your brother-in-law and your niece, and that's a start. You've got us, and that's a start. Take all that and don't let go."

Kakashi nodded. "It might take a while," said Yuuto. "And the pain of losing her is never gonna go away completely. But, it'll soften. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does ease their sting."

With a sigh, Kakashi leaned further back in his chair. Will it?

---

Tenzō was not the only one plagued with nightmares during their stay—just the most vocal. Stuck in a habit of sleeping very little since his journey back into the past, Kakashi watched as Tsunade tossed and turned in her sleep and jolted awake several times during their second night. He made a show of pretending to be asleep every time that she woke as to not embarrass her, until he finally drifted off somewhere around four-thirty.

On their third night, Tsunade figured out that sleep did not have the will to come to either of them and gave up the idea of rest entirely, whispering to Kakashi in the dark, shortly after one in the morning, "Do you want to go spar?"

Hoping the fight would exhaust him to the point of getting some semblance of slumber and glad that Tsunade was finally showing interest in being a functional ninja again, he agreed.

Because it was an old ninja bunker, there were two rooms available for sparring, so everyone's ninja skills could remain intact when they were trapped inside for most of the time. Neither were taken, due to the late hour, so they arbitrarily picked the one on the right.

"Ground rules," said Tsunade, as they faced opposite from one another. "Quiet enough to not wake anyone—"

"And no blood?" he guessed.

"No blood."

They hesitated for a moment, both in a defensive stance. Then, Kakashi nodded his head, a gesture which Tsunade returned, and they ran at one another.

It was unfortunate for Tsunade that Kakashi was already very familiar with her fighting style, when she had almost nothing on him to go on. As such, he knew that, even with her perfect chakra control, she favored her right leg over her left. Though it was a bit of a dirty shot, he wasn't sure how many hits he was going to get in after she grew less rusty. Bursting into five clones with a speed Tsunade didn't possess, his clone feigned going at her from the side with a fire jutsu, forcing her to jump away, while he used a small, earth jutsu to grab ahold of her left ankle. As expected, her ankle twisted and she fell, catching herself with her forearms on the floor.

"You're out of shape," he teased, as she smashed the earth holding her leg hostage and returned to her feet.

Narrowing her eyes, she took the offensive this time, coming at him with a series of blows. Kakashi could handle hand-to-hand sparring with almost anyone, but Tsunade and, for the same reason, Sakura, were two exceptions. Even though he was stronger than most, his strength paled in comparison to theirs. His reflexes and speed were far better, but the ability to block a punch mattered less if the punch was forceful enough to rip off the arm he was blocking with.

In a real fight, there were several ways he could have gotten around it, either by using speed to knock out his opponent before they had a chance to attack or by using a combination of powerful, ranged jutsu to stay out of melee (though, neither Tsunade nor Sakura were so easily defeated). Usually, however, the point of sparring was to not cause serious harm to one's opponent. Not to mention, because of the "no blood" rule, weapons were completely off the table. So, he was stuck dodging her attacks and tossing a series of elemental jutsu at her to slow her down.

None of them phased her. She either counteracted them with a quick flash of the same element or broke through them with strength alone. He wasn't nearly as fast as he was in his prime, and his stamina was abysmal compared to hers, so he only got a couple more blows in before she started cornering him.

"If you're not a liar," she said, smirking as she noticed him tiring. "You're out of shape, too."

Knowing she was close to getting the upper hand, Tsunade came at him twice as hard to wear down any remaining energy he had. As a last-ditch effort, he swung his arm around and a current of water emerged from it, the current so powerful that it would have swept away almost anyone. Tsunade, however, dove right through it, and her fist collided with the outside of his left shoulder, bringing him to his knees, and a sickening crack echoed throughout the room.

Her eyes widened; she thought she was holding back enough to prevent doing any real damage. "Did that just break your shoulder?"

"I broke it a few weeks ago," he said, his voice strained as he got to his feet. "It just…rebroke a little."

"Sit." He did as she asked. Kneeling beside him, she poked at his shoulder to assess the damage. "The bone dislocated, too. Bite down on something and try to relax your shoulders. This is going to hurt like a bitch."

He'd had enough broken bones aligned before to know she was right, so he took off one of his gloves and bit down on it. Placing the fingers on her right hand on the front of his shoulder to feel the break and bracing it with her left hand, she carefully moved the top of his shoulder back in line with the rest of it. It felt like a knife was jaggedly cutting into his bones, and his teeth clenched painfully on the leather in his mouth to try and distract from it. Then, the pain diminished.

"There," she said. Chakra poured out of her hands and into his shoulder, starting the process of mending the break, and they sat on the floor of the training room in silence for nearly a minute. "Sorry about that."

"'Come spar with me,' she says," teased Kakashi. "'I'm going to break your shoulder,' she says.'"

"Don't make me break it again."

---

Jiraiya noticed that Kakashi and Tsunade left in the night, waking up around three to find their beds empty. But, he didn't have a good opportunity to ask about it until he, Kakashi, and the boys were getting ready to join the girls and the rest of the Akatsuki for breakfast, and he noticed that Kakashi's shoulder was dark purple and twice as large as it should have been.

"Where the hell did you guys go last night?" he asked.

"Sparring," groaned Kakashi, splashing water on his face and attempting to stretch away some of the soreness.

"Considering you still have an arm," said Jiraiya. "She was either going easy on you or she's lost her touch."

"She went easy," said Kakashi. "So, I would try to stay off her bad side."

Jiraiya snorted. "Me? Get on her bad side? I would never."

Logically, Jiraiya had spent enough nights with the two of them over the past couple weeks to know that neither of them slept well, and middle-of-the-night sparring sessions were par for the course for insomniac ninja. However, even though Jiraiya and Tsunade had been friends for nearly twenty-one years before she left, they had not spent a moment alone together since their fight at the hotel, and she had yet to allow any sort of one-on-one conversation between the two of them. If he tried to acknowledge her directly when they were with other people, she would subtly open up the conversation to include the others. With her apparent willingness to be alone with whoever else, Jiraiya was beginning to suspect that Tsunade was intentionally ignoring him.

---

"Ninja lesson number one," said Jiraiya, dumping a small pack of square parchment on Tsunade's bed. "Picking up a piece of paper."

Half to entertain Kabuto and Tenzō and half because Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade were the most qualified teachers those kids were ever going to have, the adults decided that the kids ought to come back to Konoha with a bit of ninja experience. To not take up a sparring room for what was essentially a knowledge lesson, they all crammed inside their room and used Tsunade's bed as a makeshift table. Kakashi, Shizune, and Kabuto were on Kakashi's bed, the former acting as a test dummy for a mini, medical-jutsu lesson for the latter two, who were squished nearly on top of Kakashi's back as they concentrated healing chakra into his shoulder. Standing at the end of Kakashi's bunk, Tsunade corrected Kabuto's and, occasionally, Shizune's forms as they went along. By far the most comfortable of the six, Jiraiya and Tenzō sat on Jiraiya's bed.

"Is it going to hurt?" asked Tenzō, looking at the paper warily.

"No, it's not going to hurt," said Kakashi. "It's just a test."

"A test to see if we can pick up a piece of paper?"

"Not quite," said Jiraiya. "There are five types of elemental chakra natures, and each of them is weak to one and strong against another: wind—" He turned up his palm dramatically and a gust of air emerged from his fingertips. "—fire—" A burst of flames took the wind release's place. "—water—" A jet of water swirled out of his palm and extinguished the fire. "—earth—" Clumps of dirt appeared in his hand, absorbing the stream of water. "—and—"

He looked at Kakashi expectantly, unable to do a lightning release himself. Rolling his eyes, Kakashi mumbled "drama queen" and shot a small burst of lightning into the dirt in Jiraiya's hand. The dirt disintegrated, and the leftover pieces spilled out onto Tsunade's bed.

"—lightning," finished Jiraiya theatrically, ignoring Tsunade's outraged, "Hey!"

"Whoa," said Kabuto and Tenzō in unison, the former resting his entire body weight on Kakashi's right shoulder as he leaned in to get a closer look, and Kakashi had an arm ready to catch him in case he flipped over it entirely.

"Every ninja is born with an affinity for one of these five elements," said Jiraiya. "Your affinity element will be the easiest for you to learn and master, though it may not be the only one you can use. Most jōnin, the highest ninja rank, are expected to master two, and some can learn even more than that."

"You can use four?" asked Tenzō to Jiraiya, who nodded.

"How many can you guys use?" asked Kabuto, looking between Kakashi and Tsunade.

"Everything but wind," said Tsunade.

"All five," said Kakashi, which prompted another unified "whoa" from the youngest two.

"Make no mistake," said Jiraiya, irritated that the wonder was taken off him. "Yoshiki is the weakest ninja here."

"Who is the strongest?" asked Kabuto.

"Me," said Jiraiya and Tsunade in unison, causing both to narrow their eyes at one another.

"You want to arm wrestle this out?" asked Tsunade.

"Physical strength isn't the only factor that goes into being a strong ninja—"

"If you two are done with your di—" began Kakashi irritably, before remembering that there were children with them, and he thought better of it. "Any day now with the pieces of paper."

"Right," said Jiraiya. "These are special pieces of paper used to determine your nature affinity. Depending on your element, it will react in a certain way when you pick it up. If your affinity is wind, it'll split in half; if it's fire, the paper will burn; if it's water, the paper will get soggy; if it's earth, the paper will turn to dirt; if it's lightning, the paper will crinkle."

"And, all we have to do is pick it up?" asked Tenzō.

Jiraiya nodded. "Here, I'll start."

He reached down and grabbed one of the pieces of paper, and it turned to ash in his hands.

"Whoa," said Tenzō and Kabuto in unison.

Looking between Kakashi and Tsunade, Jiraiya gestured at the pieces of paper. As soon as they picked theirs up, it wrinkled in their hands.

"Hey," said Shizune, smiling as she picked her piece up; it split into two pieces. "You two really are twins."

"Now," said Jiraiya, lowering his voice dramatically and putting a serious expression on his face. "It's time for the two of you to learn your element."

Neither moved, each looking at the remaining paper in apprehension.

"Go on," said Kakashi, nudging Kabuto.

With a brave face, Kabuto climbed down off the bed and took a deep breath, never taking his eyes of his target. Then, he carefully lifted his chosen piece, and it crumbled to dirt in his hands.

"Earth!" he said excitedly, swirling around to show everyone the soil in his hands, accidentally spilling more onto Tsunade's bed.

"Very good," said Jiraiya. Noticing Tsunade's lips press into a flat, displeased line, Jiraiya wisely brushed all the dirt off her bed before turning to Tenzō. "Your turn."

Able to reach without getting off the bed, Tenzō snatched up a piece of paper as fast as his arms would let him, as if he was afraid the leftover pieces would bite him if he lingered. Instead of one of the usual reactions, Tenzō's paper melted into a pile of mud in his hands.

"What does that mean?" asked Shizune, not knowing it was even possible to get anything besides the normal five.

The adults made uneasy, darting eye contact with one another. Ordinarily, it wasn't possible to get anything besides the documented five reactions. Even for people who specialized in one of the more unique, combination elemental jutsus, they still had a particular element that they favored, which was reflected in the paper. Whatever Orochimaru did to him, it made Tenzō emerge from the test tube wrong—as someone who was not, genetically, a proper human being.

"We'll talk about it later," said Kakashi, who had no desire to communicate that fact to him any time soon. "There's nothing bad about it. It's just…different. But, all of you, you're not to mention that this happened to anyone, understood?"

All three of the kids nodded.

---

"Ground rule," said Kakashi, as he and Tsunade stood at opposite ends of the sparring room and faced on another. "Don't break any more of my bones."

His arm wasn't healed enough to spar like they had the night before, so he and Tsunade decided to work on speeding up her reflexes by blocking and dodging his attacks. As his left arm with pinned in a sling, he was only able to throw right-handed punches her way, but his speed still exceeded hers to the point that it didn't matter. Plus, doing normal attacks at half capacity had the added benefit of working his stamina.

"I like this sparring less," said Tsunade, frowning after he'd gotten his eighth hit in.

"All the more reason to do it," said Kakashi. "Your reflexes are terrible."

"You're just enjoying it because I broke your arm."

"If you'd like to get hit less, I'd recommend dodging every once in a while." She sent a death glare his way, so he smartly added: "It's not like we'll be sparring long, anyway."

The Akatsuki always had a couple people keep watch at night, in case of an intrusion or attack. Yahiko never kept watch, busy as he was with all the leadership responsibilities, so Konan and Nagato were paired for watch every few nights. Through some subtle asking around, they managed to figure out that Konan's and Nagato's watch was that night, so they were planning on ambushing them into conversation whenever they showed.

Sometime after two, once everyone besides Kakashi and Tsunade had gone to bed, they heard two sets of footsteps and low voices. Dropping their stances, they left the training room to find Konan and Nagato sitting off to the side of the entry hall.

"We thought we heard your voices," said Tsunade, as they walked over to them.

"Our night for watch duty," explained Konan. "What are you two still doing up?"

"Beating the shit out of one another," said Tsunade. "Want company? I've been losing all night, and I'm over it."

"Sure," said Nagato, and Tsunade and Kakashi sat down. "What happened to your shoulder?"

"I lost last night," said Kakashi, nodding his head to Tsunade. "And someone doesn't like pulling punches."

"Look, how was I supposed to know it was going to crack your shoulder?"

"Probably by asking yourself 'is this hard enough to crack someone's shoulder'—"

"How long are you going to whine about this? I've nearly fixed it—"

"Is this a twin thing?" asked Konan, knowing, of course, that they weren't actually twins, but unsure of how else to interrupt them and keep their cover.

Kakashi and Tsunade shrugged. Bickering, of course, was good for their cover, as families were usually prone to do so. However, bickering had become a bizarre coping mechanism for Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya, getting their minds off the weirdness happening around them.

"No Yahiko?" asked Tsunade, not wanting to divulge the fact that they'd inquired in depth about nightshifts.

"Yahiko doesn't keep watch," said Konan. "He has more responsibilities than we do, and he uses his time prepping for meetings and communicating with other members, so Nagato and I are paired for watch instead."

"When's the next meeting?" asked Kakashi.

"We aim for about every two weeks," said Nagato. "Sometimes sooner, if something important happens, but never longer. Yahiko thinks it's bad for morale if we don't meet regularly."

They were starting to notice that "Yahiko" was a consistent conversation topic among them. As they were limited on what they could discuss due to their cover and the need for secrecy, Kakashi decided to keep it.

"He seems like he's good at boosting morale," said Kakashi. "He's a great speaker."

A light blush crossed over Konan's cheeks, and she looked down at her hands, as if embarrassed by it, and smiled. "Yeah, he is."

"How long have you guys been doing this?" asked Tsunade.

"A few years," said Konan.

"It was Yahiko's idea, of course," said Nagato, less flustered in praising Yahiko than Konan. "To bring a bunch of people together. He's always been good at this kind of thing. At first, it was just us and a few friends, and then it just kind of exploded."

"Does anyone hold it against you three?" asked Tsunade. "That you're so young?"

"No," said Konan. "Everyone listens to Yahiko."

Acting like she was stretching her back, Tsunade turned away from the orphans to inconspicuously give Kakashi an uneasy look out of the corner of her eye, which he took to mean something along the lines of "Kakashi, what the fuck have you dragged me into?" He had to admit, something about Yahiko made him uneasy, too. Nagato and Konan unsettled him on principle (they did level his village and murder him; things like that are hard to get past), but Yahiko was a wildcard that threw him off his game.

"We knew someone sort of similar to you, once," said Kakashi to Nagato, gesturing towards his own eyes, to move the conversation away from Yahiko. "In our old group. He was one of those Uchiha from the Fire country."

"Oh, yeah, with the weird eyes," said Tsunade, playing along. "Shari-something, wasn't it? Shari…"

"Sharingan, I think," said Kakashi.

"That's what it was. Sharingan."

"I've heard of them," said Nagato. "The Uchiha."

Knowing that they were, in all actuality, from Konoha, Nagato gave Kakashi a curious look. If it was worth working into their cover, Kakashi hoped he concluded, it was something significant.

"Would you spar with me, sometime?" asked Nagato to Kakashi. "If you ever watched your old friend fight, maybe I can learn something."

"Sure," said Kakashi, shrugging. "I can't promise how much I'll remember, but it's worth a shot."

"You can't out in the open," said Konan, grabbing Nagato's arm protectively, her voice dropping so low that it was barely audible. "No one can know what all you can really do."

"When's the next time you have watch?" asked Tsunade. "I can keep lookout with you while the boys go do their thing."

"That sounds fair," said Nagato to Konan, almost half assuring her and half asking for her permission.

"Fair enough," relented Konan. "We're scheduled for watch again two nights from now."

"I'll just be glad to spar with someone other than her, to tell you the truth," said Kakashi, nodding over to Tsunade, who shot him a glare.

"Do be careful, though, Nagato," said Tsunade, in a sickly-sweet voice. "He's very brittle. Didn't drink enough milk as a child, apparently."

"And do be careful, Konan," said Kakashi, shooting a glare back. "Should someone attack you on your watch, she can't dodge worth a damn, so really the only thing she'll be useful for is a human shield."

"Only thing I'm good for, huh?" asked Tsunade. "I suppose your shoulder's going to have to stay broken, then, because I'm not 'good' enough at anything to fix it."

"What do you think Kaiya is for?"

"Kaiya only listens to me."

"Then, what do you think I have Jun for?"

"Is this why you two spar at night?" asked Nagato, as he and Konan looked on uncertainly, both unsure if they should be humored or afraid. "So this—" He made an open-hand, circling gesture. "—doesn't bleed into the daytime?"

"Probably," said Tsunade.

---

Jiraiya did not know what time Kakashi and Tsunade came back to the room, but he knew it was late; when he woke up shortly before five, their beds were still empty, and when he and the kids woke up for good at seven, the two of them were still out cold. Concerned about their near constant sleep deprivation, he elected to let them sleep and ushered the kids out of the room as quietly as they could manage.

When they arrived at breakfast, Jiraiya noticed that Yahiko was missing, and after a little bit of inquiry, he found out that he was in one of the war rooms, prepping some plans. He told the kids to stay at breakfast (stay together, he reiterated) and went to find him.

The door to the war room was cracked ajar, no doubt to let someone know that Yahiko was inside should there be an emergency, and through the crack Jiraiya saw Yahiko looking over a series of papers. Jiraiya knocked and peeked his head inside.

"Have a second?" asked Jiraiya.

"Yeah, of course," said Yahiko, with a wide smile, waving him in. "Shut the door, won't you?"

Jiraiya did as he asked and sat at the table. "Always keeping busy, huh?"

"Have to. There's a lot to do."

"You're handling it very responsibly, at least," said Jiraiya.

Yahiko looked pleased with that. "So, now that you've been here a few days, what do you think of everything?"

"I'm impressed," said Jiraiya. "You're doing good things here."

"Yeah?" asked Yahiko.

There was a quick flash of uncertainty in his voice—his unending confidence slipping for a moment—seeking Jiraiya's approval. Yahiko might have been clever and charismatic beyond all measure, but he was still just a kid, a kid just as in need of saving as Kabuto and Tenzō. With Yahiko kept alive and with Jiraiya, Kakashi, and Tsunade rekindling a friendship with the three orphans, the Akatsuki could be a completely different organization in this timeline; they could be a force used for good.

"Yeah," said Jiraiya. "You three have come a long way."

"Well, it's like you always said," said Yahiko, dropping his voice into a near-whisper. "You can't expect the world to be good. You have to be the goodness in the world." Yahiko shuffled through some of the papers in front of him, skimming them over as he did. "So, we try, at least."

Jiraiya almost took his leave there, as Yahiko did appear to be too busy for his company, but Yahiko apparently didn't mind, because he said, "So, you know what we've been up to. How has the last decade treated you?"

"About the same as the last, truthfully. Filled with missions, ended in a war—"

"Still lugging three kids around," joked Yahiko, grinning.

"Best, yet," said Jiraiya, grinning, too. "They're still not mine." He relaxed back into his chair. "Wrote a book, which was new. It sold terribly, though."

"What's it called?"

"The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi."

"I think I might have heard of it—"

"No, you haven't."

"I haven't," admitted Yahiko, smiling. "Do you have a copy on you?"

"No," said Jiraiya. "Not so great for cover."

"That's a shame. I would've liked to read it. I've always enjoyed your stories, and from the way the rest of our organization listens to you, I'd say they do, too." Satisfied with whatever he was doing, Yahiko stacked the papers surrounding him and placed them in a crate beside the table. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Everything, really. This entire organization—its goals, its ideals, its plans, us—owes its creation to you."

Knowing what he knew, Jiraiya was not as flattered as Yahiko was intending him to be. "Then, I have a favor to ask of you," said Jiraiya, forcing a serious expression on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Do you three still have those frog costumes I gave you?"

---

Tsunade awoke after a strange, vivid nightmare, shaken by the experience, and Kakashi awoke to the sound of her sitting up violently, checking her watch, and yelling, "Oh fuck."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, sitting up just as violently.

"It's noon," she said, tossing her watch to him as if he needed proof of her claim instead of just trusting that she wouldn't lie about something as mundane as the current time. "We slept until noon."

"I mean, we went to bed at six," said Kakashi, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Noon was truthfully later in the day than he'd slept in a long time, but it didn't disturb him. "Sometimes, when people are tired, they do this thing called sleeping in—"

"Oh, shut up." Tsunade ran her hands through her hair and they hovered awkwardly about three inches past the end, as she forgot, in her haziness, that her hair was only shoulder length in her current form. After she took a deep breath, her tone softened. "Sorry, I...strange dreams. Very strange dreams."

He nodded, accepting her apology. "At least we got closer to Nagato and Konan."

"Yeah." Though her fogginess was beginning to lift, her uneasiness only grew worse as she processed their conversations with the pair the night before. "I don't like this. I don't like them. There's something off about the three of them that terrifies me."

"I'm sure a lot of people would say that about the Sannin."

"I mean it, Kakashi," she said sharply. "If anything starts to go south, we have to kill them."

"You're not about to start claiming prophesy dreams, are you?" She shot him a glare, so he continued: "I assure you, I have no love for them. If something goes down, it won't be me you have to convince."

"You think you'll be able to do it?" asked Tsunade.

"Yes," said Kakashi, without hesitation. "Jiraiya's a lot of things but being lenient on the things that matter isn't one of them. If it comes to it, he'll do the right thing."

"He's always been stupidly selfless when it comes to things like that," she muttered.

Not like me, she thought; just like the man in front of her, she had let her brokenness get to her a few too many times. Not like you.

Definitely not like Orochimaru.

For her own sanity, she tried desperately not to think about her old teammate, had since their journey began, but it was all beginning to seep through the door she had locked her thoughts behind. Her anxiety about the Akatsuki was bleeding into her anxiety about Orochimaru, which was bleeding back into her anxiety about the Akatsuki, and it was all bleeding into her anxiety about her swift departure from retirement and the end of the world. We have to kill them was starting to warp into we have to kill him.

Noticing the panic in her eyes and the vaguely green tint on her face, Kakashi gave her a long, hard look, wavering, as he always did, on the line between asking and not, and it bothered her. Not only did he look at her like he knew her well, despite her only having met him a couple weeks ago, judging by the way his eyes wandered across her to study her facial expression and body language, he did know her well. He completely held the upper hand in their friendship, as she knew next to nothing about how to predict his actions, reactions, and thoughts.

She appreciated, too, that looking through the lense of power struggles to interpret friendship was a weird way to look at them, but theirs was a weird situation. Unlike Jiraiya, she could not look at and treat Kakashi like Sakumo nor did she want to, as she felt like Kakashi would not appreciate it. From Kakashi's retelling, it seemed like he had barely talked to Jiraiya in his previous lifetime, while she and Kakashi talked often and in a way that others couldn't understand.

She didn't like that he knew her as well as he did, but she did, all at the same time. In the opposite camp, it was nice to have someone who already understood her without her having to explain herself or anything else. The easiness was why, still, she preferred to talk to him more so than any of their other company.

"I'm not ready," was all she could think to say about it, both to save him the trouble of asking and to assure him that, one day, she would be ready, and that she wasn't thinking about bolting—mostly. "Not yet."

"C'mon, then," he said, rolling off his bunk and searching for his shoes. "Let's go grab lunch and find the others. God knows what Jiraiya has them doing."

---

Just as Jiraiya hoped, the three kids in the frog costumes were adorable.

Sitting on the floor of the training room, neither Shizune nor Tenzō were pleased with their predicament. Unable to fit inside the costume, Shizune settled for only wearing the hood and letting the rest of it dangle behind her like a cape. She was already embarrassed enough that Kakashi got to pretend to be an adult while she couldn't, despite him being younger than her. If he caught her in this, she felt like she might die of humiliation. Tenzō, as a malnourished nine-year-old, fit into the costume just fine, but he wasn't sure he liked being inside the encompassing garment and wasn't sure of its purpose regardless.

On the other hand, Kabuto, with all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old, was thrilled.

"Ninja lesson number two," said Jiraiya, "Before you can learn how to use ninjutsu, you must learn how to control your chakra. Without that mastery, your jutsu will be unstable and you will tire too easily. But, with it, you will be able to perfect your favored ninjutsu, create illusions with genjutsu, and even—" He took a few steps up the nearest wall so his body was parallel with the ground. "—walk on walls."

"Whoa," said Tenzō and Kabuto in unison.

"So, for today's lesson," said Jiraiya, stepping back down. "You must channel your inner frog, stick to the walls, and run all the way up to the ceiling." He turned towards the girl who was half glaring at him and half trying to respectfully pretend that she wasn't. "Shizune, why don't you show them how it's done?"

Pulling her hood down far enough that she was certain it wouldn't fall off, Shizune walked up the back wall with ease, touched the ceiling, and, just as smoothly, walked back down.

"Now, it's your turn," said Jiraiya to the boys, and they go to their feet. "Pool your chakra into your feet and extend it into the wall as you climb." He crouched down so he was closer to their level and stretched out his arms in a dramatic "ta-da" gesture. "Ready?"

"Ready," they confirmed.

"Then, on your mark—" Looking at one another, the boys narrowed their eyes, silently entering into a challenge. "—get set—" In focus, they both turned back towards the wall. "—go!"

The two gave a war cry that, in their tiny voices, sounded more like a long, chaotic scream, and they sprinted towards the wall. Not only did Tenzō not stick to it, he kicked the wall so hard when he first made contact that it sent him flying backwards over a meter, and he had to flail his arms behind him so that his head wouldn't make forceful contact with the floor. Kabuto's first step managed to stick, but the second did not, and he was so focused on running up the wall that, in his inexperience, he did not brace himself for the fall back down and landed flat on his back.

"Good try," said Jiraiya, as Shizune burst into a fit of giggles. The boys clamored back to their feet and retook their place. "But, you're focusing too much on force to get up the wall. Think like a frog; you should stick not sprint. Your chakra and the energies in the wall should merge together."

With the same war cry, the boys ran back at the wall, their only success this time being that they fell more gracefully.

Taking pity on her, Jiraiya did not make Shizune do chakra control exercises, as there was nothing he could teach her about chakra control that Tsunade hadn't and then some. Instead, as Kabuto and Tenzō continued to try and touch the ceiling, they worked on various jutsus. Jiraiya assessed what she was currently capable of and what she had the potential to do, until Kakashi and Tsunade appeared in the doorway, the latter looking between the three kids incredulously.

"What the fuck are they wearing?"

---

Still exhausted from their late night before, Tsunade collapsed into sleep the moment they retired for the evening, leaving Kakashi without a sparring partner. Though Tsunade healed his arm enough that he no longer needed a sling, it still wasn't at one-hundred-percent, so he was content to go alone. However, Jiraiya, still curious about him, offered to be his sparring partner instead.

"This feels less fair than Tsunade," said Kakashi, smiling despite it, as they stood opposite in the training room.

"Scared?" asked Jiraiya.

"Smart."

Their conversation died there. Though they had developed a penchant for bantering with one another a few weeks ago, since they arrived in the Rain, they quickly ran out of things to say to one another without her somewhere in the middle (though, it was not as if she would allow Jiraiya to speak to her one-on-one, either). Jiraiya wanted to convince himself that their conversational deficit was just caused by a lack of things to talk about in general, as they were trapped in an underground bunker. But, conversations flowed just fine when there were more people involved, and there was a lot Jiraiya theoretically wanted to talk to Kakashi about, and Kakashi and Tsunade were talking at least some.

So, if he was being honest with himself, he was, in a weird way, jealous of Kakashi—at least, of Kakashi's relationship with Tsunade. Jiraiya had known Tsunade for thirty-two years, even if she had been gone for ten of them, and she was barely acknowledging his existence. Meanwhile, Kakashi swooped in a few weeks ago, convinced her to come out of retirement, something that no one had managed, and became her favored conversation partner. Time travel, was, logically, a sound explanation for those things, but, emotionally, it did not make him feel any better about Kakashi being able to do what he could not.

"Ready, then?" asked Kakashi, when the silence lingered too long. Jiraiya nodded.

He sparred with Kakashi in a similar, observing way that he sparred with Shizune, though it was less of a teaching exercise, and he was far more willing to kick Kakashi's ass. It wasn't properly a challenge, particularly since Kakashi could barely use one of his arms, but he was a good ninja, and if they were in an environment where Kakashi could have found cover, the fight would have been a lot meaner. Even in the empty training room, there were moments where Kakashi seemed to blink out of existence entirely before throwing a sneak attack Jiraiya's way. However, his biggest hindrance was Kakashi's unfamiliarity with his new body. There were several moments he stumbled, thinking that he could do something he could not, and he clearly tired far faster than he was intending.

In the back of his mind, Jiraiya had several questions he wanted to ask Kakashi. Kakashi was fairly reserved and only shared personal information or stories if he thought he had to, hence the time travel conversation and whatever the hell he told Tsunade afterwards, and then not a peep since. So, he knew any inquiries would have to be seldom, strategic, and subtle if he hoped to extract information from the guy who was just a little too good at mind games. Jiraiya wanted to hear more about Naruto, about how the Third and Fourth Ninja World Wars affected the politics, economics, and social culture of the world, about his books so that knowing about their existence ahead of time wouldn't cause him to fuck them up, about the microdetails of the next twenty-four years so he could paint a better picture of the world in his mind.

But, instead of asking about any of those things, he asked the one question he felt stupidest for having and even stupider for going to Kakashi for the answer, because he really ought to have known.

"Is she avoiding me?"

Kakashi gave him a long, hard look, which he suspected was less to search for anything in his demeanor (because, what didn't Kakashi know at this point?) and more to buy himself time to think of something to say. "Probably."

It was the answer Jiraiya had been expecting and bracing himself for, but that didn't make it anymore welcome. Sensing his crestfallenness, Kakashi added, "She's not ready to talk, yet. Give her time. She'll come around."

Somehow, that made it worse. Though it was uncanny that Kakashi knew so much about him, even when he knew so little about Kakashi as a person beyond his actions in his retelling, it did not bother him nearly as much as the fact that Kakashi knew so much about Tsunade. It all but confirmed the other suspicion Jiraiya had—that even though she was dodging Jiraiya's attempts to talk, she was actively confiding in Kakashi.

He was being foolish for caring in the first place, because she did not owe him anything. And, it was petty and more than a bit cruel to take out something on a man who'd lost everything and, unless he was just actively shit-talking Jiraiya behind his back, wasn't even at fault. However, neither of those things stopped Jiraiya from being a little less merciful during their sparring session as he should have been.

---

"Ninja lesson number two," said Tsunade. "Anatomy and injuries."

Once again convinced to be the test subject for a lesson, Kakashi, beaten from the night before, was lying rather pitifully on the training room floor, face-down and with his shirt off, displaying an impressive collection of wounds. The two boys sat crisscross by his side, each holding a chart with labeled parts of the body that was drawn by Tsunade, and their teacher for the day sat on the other side of him, her knees drawn lazily to her chest. As Shizune was too advanced for a basic medical lesson, Jiraiya continued their jutsu practice at the other end of the room.

"Depending on the part of the body," continued Tsunade. "Injuries are treated differently. For example, when Yoshiki's shoulder broke, we put it in a sling until we could heal it, but if I were to break his leg—"

"Please don't," said Kakashi.

"—we would put it in a cast, instead."

"What if we don't want to be medical ninja?" asked Tenzō, not taking his eyes off the chart.

"It's important to memorize the parts of the body and their treatments, regardless. Some injuries are more dire than others, and you need to learn how to stabilize your allies until qualified personnel can reach you. Basic medical training can be life or death for your teammates."

Still not making eye contact with her, Tenzō's face grew pale.

"Are you squeamish or something?" asked Tsunade, wondering if they had overlooked some other trauma from the lab.

"No," he said, his voice sharp with the sullenness of a nine-year-old, but it wavered as he said it.

"Good." His reaction still struck her as odd, but for the sake of the lesson, she was content to put it aside for the moment. "We'll start simple. To help you memorize the chart, I'm going to point out some of his injuries, and the two of you are going to use it to tell me what muscle they're on. Jun, you start; identify the location of the bruising on his back."

Either too young or too blind to have perfect spatial reasoning, Kabuto stood up, placed the chart by Kakashi's head, and gently poked his injury. Then, with his other hand, Kabuto traced the body in the diagram so that it landed on the same spot as Kakashi's bruises.

"Rhombus!" he said excitedly.

"Rhomboid, but close," said Tsunade, though it was enough of a success for Kabuto. His grin grew even wider as he took back his place by Tenzō. "Now, Dai, the cuts by his shoulder."

The paleness in his face only growing worse, Tenzō darted his eyes back and forth between Kakashi and his chart several times, before sneaking a glance at her, and, when they made eye contact, turning back towards Kakashi. At first, Tsunade wondered if he was afraid to guess the wrong thing, put off by the volatile and unpredictable nature of the adults in his life (after all, they did keep randomly beating the shit out of one another). After a few moments of watching him, however, it struck Tsunade that she might have neglected to check for an important prerequisite for this lesson.

"Dai," she said, lowering her voice, as the question was not in line with their cover. "Do you know how to read?"

Shifting ever so slightly, Kakashi tilted his head out of the nest he created with his arms, to see Tenzō in his peripheral vision. Shizune appeared to not have noticed the question, but Jiraiya did, subtly flickering his eyes over towards them in time to see Tenzō shake his head. None of the adults were bewildered by the revelation, as Tenzō spent the first chunk of his childhood stuck in a tree with a clan who would die if they left, so education probably wasn't their top priority, and the rest of his childhood stuck in a test tube, but it did catch them off guard.

"We'll just add it to ninja lessons, then," said Kakashi quickly, but with his usual, laid-back tone that had an impressive ability to make things sound like weren't a big deal. "Maybe your uncle's poetry will finally be good for something."

Jiraiya shot Kakashi a half-hearted glare that did not linger long, instead wandering up to meet Tsunade's gaze and staying far longer than she would have liked. Even when she turned back towards Kabuto, a gesture she did not want to seem pointed but knew it must have, she felt his eyes hover a few moments more, before he refocused on Shizune. They would have to talk eventually, she knew, but that was a can of worms she was not yet prepared to deal with.

---

Though he had always been a man with infamous regrets, Kakashi was, these days, struggling to be a man with anything else.

Over the last few weeks, Kakashi had tried to block all thought from his mind to keep his sanity. He was stuck in a game of trying not to think about time travel; trying not to think about his Konoha; trying not to think about Team Seven; trying not to think about Kaguya; trying to not think about the fact that he now had legal guardianship over two kids, one of whom was Kabuto; trying not to think about the fact that they were temporarily living with the Akatsuki.

Today, the game was called "try not to think about the fact that you're fighting the guy who killed you, whom you were pretty content to know was dead," and he was losing. Every single life choice that lead to this moment was almost certainly a mistake, and even though it was a simple sparring session that bordered on a lesson, trying to suppress his flight-or-fight instinct to remain composed felt like challenging a mountain to a wrestling match.

He wouldn't run—couldn't—but going south, changing his name, and living the rest of his days on an island somewhere was starting to sound really appealing.

"So," said Kakashi, doing his best to ignore how nauseous he felt as he and Nagato stood on opposite ends of the training room. Just beyond the doorway, Tsunade and Konan were sitting on the floor, chatting quietly, and keeping watch on the happenings outside. "Let's see what you can do."

Nagato tucked his bangs behind his ear so that the right side of his face and the Rinnegan it contained were visible.

Don't think about dying. Don't think about Sasuke. Don't think about Madara. Don't think about Kaguya.

Of all his sparring partners, Nagato was ironically his most courteous. If anything, he was a little too reserved in his fighting, still unsure of the power his Rinnegan held and not wanting to overdo it—not that, for obvious reasons, Kakashi minded it. However, nearly two decades of Sharingan use taught him that correlating less dōjutsu use with less harm displayed a fundamental lack of understanding of the power possessed. The teacher in him won over.

"Your eyes aren't a weapon," said Kakashi. "The Rinnegan should be the tool that you use to wield the weapons at your disposal. You're treating your eyes like a sword instead of an arm."

"What do you mean?" asked Nagato.

"Say I'm wielding two kunai," said Kakashi, drawing two from his belt. "In a fight, both of my arms have to be on the offensive, but they have to be other things, too. They have to block enemy attacks. They have to steady me, if I lose my balance, or help me navigate through my environment, should the need arise. They have to be prepared to move from the kunai to another weapon or jutsu. I can hope my skill with a kunai is good enough that I won't need any of those things, but one day I might find that I'm not the most powerful person on a battlefield."

"So, I use too much offensive?"

"No," said Kakashi. "Just not enough of the others. You were given powers of observation that most people could never dream of, so use them. You were given unique jutsu that can be used to defend yourself, so you don't have to go on the offensive as much. And, most importantly, you need to learn to attack, defend, and observe all the same time."

Though Yahiko was harder to predict than Nagato, Kakashi understood him far better. People like Yahiko were not common by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren't unheard of, either. Villages and civilizations were usually founded by Yahiko's—people with grand-scale visions and the charm, eloquence, confidence, and intellect to pull it off. Minato was one of those people—though of the humbler variety—as was Danzō—though of the eviler variety. In a less complicated life, Sasuke might have been. Though they were never ordinary and could easily border on a God-complex, they were, at their heart, people with comprehensible goals who could look at the big picture and see which pieces of the puzzle to move to accomplish them.

On the other end of the spectrum, there were people like Sasuke turned out to be, like Orochimaru, like Madara—a type that was deceptively similar to the other but altogether quite the opposite. Though still frighteningly intelligent and charismatic, Sasuke's were more manic than they were rational, thrived on escalation instead of expansion, cared more about the grand-scale than the vision, and had no problems trimming down the word "God-complex" into just "God."

However, Kakashi could wrap his head around those people, too. As warped as it could often be, there was still a goal at the center of their sights. It ranged from difficult to impossible to determine how they intended to achieve that, but there was still a motive, a want, a fear, a trauma, a something that set off the crux of their problem. They could not always answer the question "why are you doing this?" rationally, but "why not" was an answer all the same.

(There was, of course, always the chance he had just spent too much time around murderous Uchihas to not be used to the experience. Even outside of himself, though, there was no one who could sit down and talk to Sasuke for more than a couple minutes, without, upon being asked about the experience later, nodding and answering, "yeah, I can see him trying to take over the world a few times." Even now, though Kakashi was convinced he was committed to non-evil and going to do right by Sakura, there were times it was very apparent that Sasuke's rationality and morality came exclusively from mirroring and taking cues from Naruto and Sakura, instead of an actual sense of inner stability.)

As Pain, Nagato dabbled in Sasuke-dom, but good Nagato fell into neither of those categories. He was kind, quiet—shy, even—and despite his ruby hair and violet eyes, he was half as likely as Yahiko to stand out in a crowd. Nagato was the sort of person you expected to see as your neighbor instead of as your village leader.

Yet, hiding beneath that, even now, with a sane mind, he had the arrogance to consider himself a God, and Kakashi neither understood nor knew how to reason with him.

Still, while Kakashi did not trust Nagato in the slightest, he did trust Naruto, and Naruto found good in him. Naruto found a good in Nagato that he felt was worth redeeming, a good that could be lasting, and though Kakashi loathed Nagato, he owed it to Naruto to teach him and point him in the right direction.

"Here," said Kakashi, sensing Nagato still wasn't getting it. He walked over to their med-kit in the corner, pulled out some gauze, and tossed it to him. "Blindfold yourself."

That earned him a weird look from Nagato, Konan, and Tsunade, ranging from confusion to distrust to mild wondering if he was just going to assassinate Nagato and be done with it respectfully.

"You use your eyes as a crutch," explained Kakashi. "To avoid learning the fundamentals of being a ninja. So, you have to learn to fight without them. No weapons, no jutsu, just your other senses and hand-to-hand combat. Once you've learned, you'll be able to use your eyes like you should."

Nagato and Konan exchanged a brief look. He, once again, both reassured her and asked her permission. After a few moments of thought, she shrugged, and so he shrugged and wrapped the gauze around his eyes.

"There are many different senses you should learn to use as a ninja," said Kakashi, slowly circling around him. "Hearing. Sensing. Smelling. Feeling. Instinct. If you want to succeed at this exercise, you'll have to learn which combinations to use to figure out where I am. One, two, and—"

As soon as the word "three" escaped his lips, Kakashi kicked Nagato's ankles out from underneath him with a low, sweeping kick. Nagato was none-the-wiser until it was too late, and he was already falling. If nothing else, Kakashi was good at remaining undetected, something he planned to liberally use here.

"You're still trying to use your eyes," said Kakashi. "I can see you squinting. Now, again—"

Later, Kakashi awoke in a pile of rubble, narrowly missed by a massive crevice, and he jolted into an upright position. A few wooden beams were nearly on top of him, barely holding up a wall or roof from completely crushing him, and he pulled a kunai and searched around frantically to see if he could escape. There were bodies next to him, completely still and covered under collapsed wood, too. He wondered if the fight was over; thinking back to the blood-thirsty eyes, he wondered if they lost.

Blinking a few more times, he realized that he was not buried under anything, just staring at the intact paneling of an upper bunk, and the bodies were the sleeping forms of Tsunade's and Jiraiya's disguises, alive and unharmed.

He was used to nightmares and thought he'd learned to not dwell on them. However, he was not sure if he was relieved to not have woken up in a pile of dust in a leveled village or grief-stricken that he hadn't, so he could be back there with them. The thought disturbed him so greatly that he felt like he was being smothered, his heart beating so fast that his chest ached and his stomach felt ill, and he had to immediately throw on his shoes and leave the bedroom to get some fresh air.

Tsunade pretended not to have noticed.

---

"Ninja lesson number four," said Kakashi. "Weapons."

Both kids lined up parallel to the long wall in the sparring room and were armed with one of Kakashi's kunai. Tenzō and Kabuto looked eagerly at the target in front of them, the latter doing a weird, wiggling dance of impatience. This was the first time they got to do something that involved actual fighting, as opposed to their previous knowledge lessons, which made Tenzō feel grown up enough to return his spirits from yesterday. Kabuto, of course, was just unconditionally excited about everything.

Sensing Shizune's growing resentment of being treated like a child in comparison to Kakashi, Tsunade did not subject her to Kakashi's basic lesson on kunai throwing, instead sparring with her on the other side of the room. Out of the way of both lessons, Jiraiya sat in a corner with several pieces of paper scattered around him, taking the time to write out children's stories for Tenzō to read. They were probably more elaborate and thoughtful than was necessary, but if Jiraiya was to soon publish a new book series, he needed to keep in the habit of writing often. Besides, if he was going to teach the kid to read, he might as well teach him in style.

"For now," said Kakashi. "Don't worry about form. First, you have to learn how to get the kunai to stick in the target, and that's something you have to figure out on your own. Once you start hitting the target consistently, we'll work on technique. Clear?"

The boys nodded. "Then, on your mark," said Kakashi. "Get set…go."

With the same war cry they gave in their chakra control lesson, Tenzō and Kabuto threw their kunai at the target and wildly missed.

"You know, screaming doesn't make your abilities any better," said Kakashi, as they collected their weapons and repositioned themselves. "If you scream every time you do something on a real mission, your enemies will always know where you are."

"Should we croak instead?" asked Kabuto. "Uncle Raiden said being like a frog would help us."

Jiraiya burst into laughter, and Kakashi struggled to not roll his eyes. "I would rather you scream," said Kakashi.

The lesson was an absolute disaster—an adorable disaster, but a disaster all the same. Probably from wearing glasses that didn't match the prescription he needed, Kabuto's depth perception was atrocious, and after an hour, he only got within a meter of the target once. Though Tenzō's vision was fine, he was too weak to reliably throw the kunai the way he wanted to, due to muscle wasting from his time in the test tube. Kabuto, even as a scrawny five-year-old, easily had double the strength. Tsunade was not too worried about it, almost certain it was caused by lack of proper nutrients and exercise instead of a disease process, which meant that a good diet and consistent workouts would bring him steadily back to normal.

Even though they were failing miserably and knew it, they didn't let it dissuade them, both determined to outdo the other. Kakashi didn't know whether they were trying to impress the adults, Shizune, one another, or themselves, but each time they lined up, they looked intently but amicably at one another in a silent challenge before whipping back towards the target and giving it their best. If nothing else, he was glad they were getting along, because while they would soon leave the cramped quarters in the Rain, the three of them were still going to cram into a one-bedroom apartment.

They were too awful to benefit from any criticism of skill, their only hope of improvement some addressing of their medical problems, so Kakashi was given the time for his thoughts to unwelcomely wander. Though they were different, so different, it was easy for his mind to make comparisons to the last time he had students to teach, of a certain rivalry that motivated them to get better. Students that were laughably mediocre for what they would one day evolve to be.

Back when we were little and stupid, and you couldn't stand any of us.

He wanted to pretend like he didn't know why he kept hearing Sakura's voice specifically instead of Naruto's or Sasuke's. But, deep down, he knew why; he was the most protective of her.

It wasn't like he wasn't protective of the other two. Without hesitation, he would die to save any of them, and nor did he think that Sakura couldn't handle herself. After all, she had saved him as much as he had her. But, Sakura still ranked uniquely number one on that list. Maybe it was because she was a girl. Maybe it was because, despite her vulnerable nature and the heart she wore on her sleeve, despite that she loved too openly and too deeply, her desire to save people was so strong that she was willing to dive into trouble minds to push the darkness out, even if it meant inflicting harm on herself. Maybe it was because love had not been kind to her, and for so long she waited on a man whom she had no idea when he would return to her.

For whatever reason, he felt a constant want to protect her, and that's why her voice was the one haunting him. He had failed her, because he was almost one-hundred percent certain the three of them were dead.

Realistically, Naruto's and Sasuke's consciousness had no body to return to. Sakura was technically already conceived when he went back in time, but her brain was not yet developed to retain memories, and every bit of her that managed to come back along with him would have died in an instant.

Kakashi shook himself out of it. He couldn't think about it, about them. Not yet. Right then, his number one priority was to make it through their stay in the Rain. So, he stopped the boys' weapons practice and had them run up the wall again, just to give his mind something to do.

I suppose it was always meant to be the four of us, even now, at the very end.

He wished it had.

---

It was a brave thing to be vulnerable, and Tsunade had not been brave for a very long time. It was easy—easier, anyway—to run, to pretend there was not things and people and love she left behind. When she walked away from the village for the last time, she put on a mask of indifference and drowned all that seeped through with gambling, alcohol, and nomadicy. For her, love became synonymous with pain, and if she did not love, she would not feel pain.

But, she did love. No matter how far she had strayed from Konoha, no matter how long she had tried to convince herself of the delusion, the truth was ever present in the back of her mind. She did not remain on the road because she had given up love; she remained on the road because she hadn't. If she could have shrugged off love like an oversized coat, she could have stayed in medicine, the trauma meaning nothing to her. But, she did love, and love meant blood, so blood meant pain. The one thing that made her worth something in Konoha was the one thing that love would not let her do.

So, she thought, anyway—or, at least, so she liked to pretend. Then came along Kakashi and the future and her future. A future where she was back to practicing medicine. Where she was happy. Where she helped save the world.

It was always love, it seemed, with her. Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, there were people she left behind in Konoha who she loved and who loved her: her old team, though her feelings were very rocky about two of them at the moment, and Biwako. Little Kushina, though not so little anymore, her sole surviving Uzumaki cousin. InoShikaCho, the only genin team that she'd ever been given (only for a couple years, because eventually her skills as a medical ninja were too great for the Third to allow her to do anything else, but long enough that they remained close until she left the village). Countless friends. Hospital staff.

If she did nothing and remained on the road forever, all of those people—at least, those lucky enough to survive until then—were going to be mindless soldiers in an army for a mad god. Including, perhaps most terrifyingly, Shizune. For them, she had to find it in herself to be brave.

"Let's spar using weapons, tonight," she said, as she and Kakashi entered the training room once again. "Keep on theme."

If he noticed her nervousness, he didn't react to it, but she knew he must, particularly after they'd started fighting. She was uncharacteristically unaggressive, dodging more than she lunged, and distracted. Nothing they were doing came close to drowning out her constant awareness that they were swinging sharp objects near skin—what it could mean.

At one point, she was so focused on not hitting Kakashi that she failed to dodge something she should have and that Kakashi expected her to. He was aiming for her arm not her skull, and there was no real force behind it, so the cut across her cheek was shallow. But, it was not shallow enough.

"Sorry," he said, his tone nonchalant and indifferent, as if he was completely unaware that she happened to have a crippling phobia of blood. But, she knew it was for her benefit, because he created a small ball of water in his hand and pressed it against her cheek to prevent the blood from dripping down her face. "I don't know if I've told you this before, but your reflexes are terrible."

"It's lucky for you, if you think about it," she said, glaring at him in irritation, though it was mostly in performance. Inwardly, she was trying to slow her heart rate and the sudden feeling of dizziness, knowing the thing that would break her was so close, and it would only take a drop. Sliding her hand between his hand and her face, she started to heal the cut. "It's about the only thing you've going for you."

"I dunno. I've been told I'm pretty good at tennis."

He did her the favor of not looking at her as she fixed the scratch, pretending to be interested in something across the room, giving her as much privacy as one person could give another standing only fifteen centimeters in front of them. But, she knew that, with his peripheral vision, he was watching her regardless. Though she knew he didn't think less of her for it nor begrudged her for the slow pace she was moving along, it was still embarrassing to feel so weak—so vulnerable. She hated having to rely on someone to get by.

"Should be done," she said, after about a minute, removing her hand, and he dispelled the sphere.

"May I?" he asked, after examining her face for a moment, hovering his thumb where the water had been, evidently finding something. She nodded, and he gently wiped off whatever remained. "Alright, you're good."

"You said life gets better if you let it," said Tsunade, before they could resume. "So, how do you let it?"

"My…medic did not share all the details of her research with me," said Kakashi. "Nor would I have understood them if she had. But, from what I remember for things like this, the best thing is repeated exposure. In a controlled environment, start introducing it in small quantities to desensitize yourself to it."

"And if I can't fix myself," said Tsunade. "How is this supposed to work, then?"

Giving her a hard look, her leaned in close to her once more and lowered his voice. "Are you the greatest goddamn medical ninja in the world?" he asked. "Or are you not?"

It irritated her that he knew, with absolute certainty, the answer to that question, and as a byproduct, so did she. So, she resumed their sparring without a verbal warning, instead letting him know by swinging her kunai at his arm, and he grinned.

---

Their seventh night in the Rain, Tenzō woke up screaming.

It was hard to say which of the adults was awake first, differing only by milliseconds, but they were all more prepared than last time. By the time Shizune and Kabuto had a chance to wake up, Jiraiya and Kakashi were already shushing them, and Tsunade had her watch ready.

"Three thirty-eight," she said. She and Kakashi had only been in bed for twenty minutes, and she ran her hand through her hair to try and shake off the deliriousness of being woken so early in a sleep cycle. "We need to start waking him up around three twenty and keeping him awake for fifteen minutes. It might…it might help."

For five minutes, they watched his tiny, terrified form look around wildly without seeing, his arms and legs stiff and unmoving as if invisible binds were holding him to the bed.

"Cramped. Cramped. Cramped."

(There Lived a Certain Man)

For the kids, their second week in the Rain somehow passed both slower and faster than their first. On one hand, they had not seen sunshine in any capacity for a while, and cabin fever was beginning to kick in. On the other, they were growing used to one another's and the rest of the Akatsuki's company, and conversation flowed easier and more frequently because of it. They fell into a routine of ninja lessons and, in Tenzō's case, reading lessons that helped to ease the restlessness. Shizune, in particular, was grateful for the influx of training, especially when it came from Tsunade, who, before now, had been so hesitant to engage her directly.

However, Kakashi and Jiraiya had taken to jumping out of nowhere and knocking the kids over while yelling "sneak attack," for which Shizune was significantly less grateful. They claimed it was to improve their passive perception and reflexes, though the kids speculated it had far more to do with the fact that everyone found it hilarious to see them give a surprised squawk and flail to the ground.

Kakashi, thus far, had been impossible to detect until they were already falling, even though Shizune suspected, from the way the adults talked, he was going easy on them. Once, though, Shizune did notice Jiraiya. She didn't succeed in doing anything about it, but she noticeably tried to dodge, which made Jiraiya, after he helped her to her feet, smile, clap her on the back, and say "atta girl." Even though she didn't want to be, she was secretly pleased that he was proud of her.

The week closed with a meeting, but like last time, the adults still didn't let them attend. Shizune tried not to be bothered, like she had so often over the last couple of weeks, that Kakashi, though he was younger than her, got to attend these secret meetings. For the most part, she still had no idea where they were or who they were with, even though Kakashi was completely in the know. So, when Tenzō asked, once the adults were gone:

"What do you think they're talking about?"

She answered:

"Want to go find out?"

In the interest of being sneaky, she wished she didn't have to bring Kabuto and Tenzō with her to go spy, but she understood the wisdom in keeping together. Coaching them in keeping their footfalls quiet, Shizune made her way towards the mess hall with the boys following her like ducklings. She didn't dare try and approach the doorway to peek inside, but they did find a hidden place down the hallway where the voices inside were still audible.

They missed whatever introduction the meeting had, but for a long while, the meeting consisted of nothing but the relaying of news, and Shizune had to quietly explain to the boys what everything meant. The Lightning Village had backed out of combat, making a permanent armistice agreement with all sides. There was talk in the Rock of surrender, though there was talk in the Mist of refusing. The Sand was growing low on resources and getting desperate, and Konoha's Yellow Flash was still dominating the battle fields (Shizune did not know who this was, but she knew that she couldn't ask Tsunade without admitting she had listened in).

Overall, it was rather boring, and other than a brief leap of hope that the war might be coming to a close, Shizune was disappointed they risked discovery to listen to forty-five minutes of reports.

That was, until the end.

"It can be difficult to stay attentive during a war," she heard Yahiko say. "To listen on endlessly about death, famine, and destruction. Of the cruel byproducts of war that we know will linger on far longer than the fighting itself, poisoning the world to be weakened to further conflicts. We listen to these things and have to confront the fact that our world is broken.

"But, you are all here, still listening, still moving forward, because you know that we offer another way. We offer something that will save these shattered people. We must go to them, show them the way of the peaceful righteous. With the strength and the knowledge and the conviction we have, we can end their suffering through our teachings. All of the death, the hardships, and the pain that brought all of us here together will be finished."

"My friends," he said, and there was a warm admiration in his voice that struck her, as if he were singly and personally saying these words to her. For a moment, she felt the intensity and the ardor in his voice like it was her own, and even though she barely understood what was happening, she was convicted by it. "My family, my comrades. Let us use the courage and the spirit I see in your hearts to inspire and bring about a new era to this world of ours. We will rise as the dawn."

"We will rise as the dawn," everyone echoed, and there was a moving of chairs, signaling that the meeting had finished.

"C'mon," she said, picking up Kabuto and grabbing Tenzō by the hand to make their escape as quick as possible, before one of the Akatsuki or, worse, the other three members of their company noticed they had some eavesdroppers. Unnerved and confused by Yahiko and his words, listening in, somehow, only reinforced the question she had been asking this entire time.

Where were they?

---

Two weeks marked the end of phase one of their plan, and Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi agreed that they were successful enough to move on to phase two—connecting Kakashi and Yahiko. The meeting gave him a good lead in to start a conversation, so he cornered Yahiko two hours after it ended, when he was sitting alone in the war room making plans.

"Hey," said Kakashi, peeking in. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Yahiko, gesturing towards a seat opposite him, and Kakashi took it.

"Your speech at the end was very moving," said Kakashi. "You're one hell of a speaker."

"It's hardly me," said Yahiko. "It's the truth of the message that brings out the words. I'm merely a vessel for it." Leaning back in his chair, Yahiko took a moment to examine Kakashi. "You're a curious one, you know. I can tell you're not like the others."

That gave Kakashi pause, enough to worry him. "What do you mean?"

"Up on the podium, you get a good look on everyone's faces. I mean every word I say up there. I do see so much heart in them. But, sometimes, I see a lot of uncertainty, in all of them. Not that I begrudge them; how could they not be on occasion, in a world that has beat them down so much as ours? In fact, I am glad for it sometimes, because I know that even with uncertainty, they are brave enough to stay.

"But, not you. You never need convincing. Your face tells me that you're already there."

Even though Yahiko was only eighteen, going up against him was strangely intimidating. His perceptiveness, like his speaking skills, were unlike anything he had ever seen, and it made even Kakashi feel like an unwillingly open book.

But, Kakashi could not so easily be outdone.

"Yes," said Kakashi. "I've been thinking a lot about peace and what peace looks like. I came in here to run something by you on that subject, actually."

"I'd love to hear it."

"Practically," said Kakashi, knowing he needed to find the perfect balance of laying it on thick. "It's a shame to have ninja villages with so much talent and have it wasted in wars amongst ourselves. Ninja should be there to stop that which can't be controlled, like criminals and rouge demons, not to destroy organized society. If there was harmony and cooperation, we could progress so much faster in things that benefit everyone: technology, medicine, mining, agriculture."

"I agree," said Yahiko, nodding.

"Treaties are useless," said Kakashi. "They're nothing more than a temporary ceasefire, lasting only until someone gets inevitably mad about something else and everyone decides to break them. What we need is an alliance—a union. One where each ninja village can elect representatives to discuss and resolve conflicts by way of democracy instead of violence. One that allows each country to have a voice."

He did not want to spill everything to Yahiko for two reasons. First, he wanted Yahiko to come to some of his own conclusions, creating the illusion that it was a collaborative effort partially born from the Akatsuki's doctrine. Second, he did not want to let him in on just how deeply he'd thought about it and how well put together it sounded.

"It would avoid help power struggles," said Yahiko. His demeanor of attentive listening dropped involuntarily as he began to think, really think. "But, the big villages would object. They like to keep their power."

"It's why they would need to join first," said Kakashi. "Come together themselves to make such a thing happen and think that it was mostly their idea. The villages, not the individuals, are always going to hold the power. We just have to convince them to hold their power in the right way."

Still deep in thought, Yahiko silently rummaged around his notes for a large map of the world, which he laid out on the table. Taking what looked to be whittled-down chess pieces, Yahiko placed the tallest ones on the five major countries and the shortest ones on the minor countries between them. Then, he took small pieces of yarn and taped them between the major villages, studying the trajectories.

"Not like the others at all," said Yahiko, giving his attention back to Kakashi, and the charismatic smile returned. "I want to discuss this more, but I want to gather my thoughts first."

As he left, Kakashi had no idea that, along with the union plan, he had started another train of thoughts in Yahiko, one that the latter did not even tell Konan of yet. Even though the thoughts were almost antithetical to the Akatsuki's dogma, they bubbled beneath the surface all the same.

But, more on that later.

---

Their next talk occurred two weeks later, after the third meeting. Yahiko specifically sought out Kakashi afterwards and beckoned him back towards the war room.

"As promised," said Yahiko, once he shut the door behind them. "I've been thinking. Peace is more than just anti-war; it's anti-suffering, and all suffering contributes to the likelihood of war. When people suffer, they are motivated to change that suffering, and if they cannot change it via voice, they have to change it via violence to survive. A group like your alliance couldn't only focus their negotiations on not fighting. We need something that addresses the reasons of fighting.

"But, a handful of people cannot be expected to be experts on everything. A group like this would have to be split into committees, particularly if everyone is to be given a voice, because they have to be given a voice fairly and have the opportunity to put their experts forward. Committees to address all causes of war."

"A committee for each major aspect of human suffering," said Kakashi, and it was his turn to be deep in thought over the matter. Somehow (though he did have some prompting), with only two weeks of pondering, Yahiko was on his way to creating a more coherent plan for the union than they had in a year. It was both impressive and terrifying. "Committee's like those could help all of the villages thrive together. A food and agriculture committee could not only prevent starvation that leads to violent conflict, it could help everyone's farming techniques to grow, contributing to societal advancement."

Yahiko grabbed a piece of paper and began to write. "Okay, what are our main things? Food and agriculture—"

"Health," said Kakashi. "Technology."

"Education."

"Mission equality." Kakashi paused, putting on a show of acting like he'd just had a brand-new idea. "What if there was a system where you have this committee that divvies out missions? Instead of major missions going to individual villages, they go to this committee that then distributes them to the most qualified people from any nation. It removes the problem of particular villages getting missions based on reputation or economic status, instead of skill."

"That's going to even harder to get people to agree to," said Yahiko, though he didn't look opposed. "A lot of the big villages aren't going to like that."

"No," said Kakashi. "But they like war a lot less."

"You're right." Yahiko stared thoughtfully at the piece of paper in front of him for a few moments, before looking back up to Kakashi and grinning. "We have to be the solution."

---

"We're close," said Kakashi the ensuing night, after the meeting. The kids were out of the room, getting ready for bed, and it was only Jiraiya, Tsunade, and him. "Get ready to go soon."

As they were all gathered in the mess hall for lunch, his words still bothered Jiraiya. Though they had been with Tsunade for five weeks, she and Jiraiya were not any closer to settling their issues than they were at the start, and now the clock was ticking even faster. So, he decided he was finished waiting on her.

"Can we talk?" he asked, lowering his voice and leaning in close to her once everyone was distracted by something Yahiko was saying.

Her lips pressed into a flat line, she did not make eye contact with him, and she looked like she was in on the verge of arguing. But, he knew she was not an idiot; she must have been acutely aware of the need for them to discuss what they were going to do once they got back to Konoha. They had no plans for how they wanted the next couple of months to play out nor an agreed strategy for how they were going to interact with everyone, and because of that, they hadn't clued Kakashi into any of those things, even though he needed to know, too.

So, even though he knew she wanted to argue, she did not. Instead, she wordlessly walked away back towards the room, which he took as agreement.

Subtly getting Kakashi's attention, Jiraiya made a complicated gesture involving a few eye movements, a couple sweeps of his hands, and a jerk of his head in Tsunade's direction, which he hoped conveyed something along the lines of "we're going to go talk, please watch the kids." Though Kakashi looked amused, it appeared to have worked, because he nodded. None of the others batted an eye at their leaving, even the ones who noticed, because a married couple spending some time alone was hardly suspicious.

"What would you like to talk about, Jiraiya?" she asked angrily, once he closed the door, leaning against the post of the middle bunk in a huff. "The fact that our best friend is committing horrendous crimes against humanity? The fact that we have to listen to the terrified screams of one of the kids he traumatized at night? The fact that the closest thing you or I ever had to a father has been turning a blind eye to repeated acts of treason? Or the fact that our dead friend's time-traveling son has recruited us to help stop a thousand-year-old goddess from using the moon to enslave humanity?"

Then, in a weird turn of events, she began to laugh. It came out in choking bursts, at first, but soon dissolved into full-blown cackling that caused her to have trouble staying standing. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind, certain she had.

"I'm sorry," she said, through giggles. "It's not funny at all. It's just, the moon. The goddamn mood is going to enslave us all."

Sorry as she was, she couldn't make the laughter stop—the manic sort that comes from not knowing what else to do. Before he could restrain himself, he began to laugh, too. It wasn't as deranged as hers, only strangled guffaws that made his ribcage convulse, but it made him feel just as insane. She was right; none of this was funny in the slightest.

But, it was all so ridiculous. There were all these horrifying things, too many of them, and they were all stacked up on top of one another in one ridiculous, terrifying bundle that they had to confront at once. So, she laughed, and he laughed, even after they began to feel sick.

"And little Kabuto," she said, barely getting the words out. "Is going to commit mass necromancy."

"And don't forget Madara," said Jiraiya, struggling just as much. "Who is still alive and using a tree to clone the First Hokage into an army of mindless soldiers."

"God, and here I thought I had two grandfathers," said Tsunade. "Turns out I've got thousands."

After a few more moments, they were able to pull themselves together. They each took a few deep breaths to calm down and Tsunade wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"How are you doing?" she asked, furrowing her brow in concern.

Though he probably shouldn't have been surprised, he was. Not only was it a rich question from someone who had just had a brief lapse in sanity, he had not been sure, before this moment, that she even cared. It was probably a projection from the fact that the other relationships in his life were in shambles, but with her ignoring him this whole time, he was a little worried that the friend he'd once had in her was gone, too.

"About which?"

"Any of it," she said. "But, probably the two people we need to talk about most."

In preparation for this conversation, he had prepared a list of things he wanted to say over the last month, but in the moment, they were all escaping him. "I don't even know. You?"

"I'm angry," she admitted. "And hurt, and betrayed. I thought better of the two of them, and the minimum standards that I had should not have been hard to keep. It was a worst-case scenario that I didn't even know I needed to be prepared for."

"I feel like that can be said for all of this," said Jiraiya, and she laughed lightly, but her expression quickly turned serious.

"Did you know?" she asked. "Even a little?"

"No," said Jiraiya, and he wasn't sure if that made him seem better or worse. "Somehow, I had no fucking clue."

"Me, neither," she said. "I mean, Orochimaru was always harsh, and calculating, and clever, but not—how were we too stupid to miss something like this?"

He meant it when he told her that she wasn't a fool back in the hotel room, but all of this had lowered his opinion on both of their intelligences. If they weren't stupid, how could they have missed it? Sure, Tsunade hadn't been around for several years, and Jiraiya himself hadn't had a proper conversation with Orochimaru in over a year, but stuff like this ran deeper than whims. Good men—and that is what Jiraiya once thought Orochimaru was, a good man—did not decide to, overnight, brutally experiment on and kill a large group of children.

Tenzō's screams and the visions of the lab echoed in his mind, and he wondered if there would ever again be a moment where he wasn't haunted by them.

All life gone from her, she sat miserably on the foot of her bed and tucker her legs underneath her, and he took a seat on the foot of his own bed beside her. It was jarring to see Tsunade look...not quite old, but in this form, older than he had ever seen her, and the plainness of the disguise made her seem even older. There were lines on her face when she frowned, and there was nothing to distract from the weary look in her eyes.

"The Third thought that Orochimaru was going to be his replacement one day," he said. "That has to mean something."

"Hiruzen-sensei, as we're finding out, is a shitty judge of character," said Tsunade. "How much do you think he knows?"

"Probably more than we'd like," said Jiraiya. "I have no doubt that he doesn't know about Orochimaru in explicit details, but he knows somethings up. I think he's conveniently not asking certain questions for fear of what he might find."

"And Danzō?" asked Tsunade. "How much do you think he knows about him?"

"You heard Kakashi. You know the answer."

"This is so fucking stupid," she said, humorously half-laughing as she ran her fingers through her hair. "But even though 'disappointed in him' would be an understatement, I'm still somehow worried that Hiruzen-sensei is going to be disappointed in me." Deliberately not making eye contact, she picked at her bedsheet. "Do you think my return is going to be…unwanted?"

"The Third would kill to have you back." If life was not currently determined to be unbearably unfunny, he might have found it humorous—how little she knew about how fond he was of her. "And, I mean it."

She nodded, though with all that was going on, she couldn't feel properly relieved. "When did you start calling him 'the Third?'" she asked, still not making direct eye contact with him, but he could see her looking out of the corner of her eye.

He was not eager to spill his personal problems with the Third to her, particularly since they paled in relation to his new problems with him. However, if they were going to make all of this work, there needed to be openness between them—between all three of them, really, but Kakashi had done a good job of fulfilling his end of the bargain. How could he expect openness from her if he was not willing to give it?

"He and I haven't really talked in a long time," said Jiraiya. "Personally, I mean. Professionally, we're fine."

Looking back on it, he wished he hadn't argued so much. Though the Third was perfectly willing to fight, Jiraiya was more often than not the one who started it. Maybe if they hadn't spent so much time rowing with one another, they might have noticed Orochimaru before it was too late and a hall full of children were dead. Maybe the Third might have confided in Jiraiya more, and Jiraiya could have convinced him of something—

"Do you blame me?"

"What?" he asked, the question ripping him from his thoughts.

"For Hiruzen-sensei and Orochimaru," she said. "Do you blame me and the fact that I left?"

"No," he said, meaning it. "What the hell would you have done?"

"I don't know," she said, giving him a pointed look. "But, I can tell you're blaming yourself, and you actually bothered to stick around in Konoha, so I must be even higher on your 'people to blame' list."

He locked his jaw in place irritably. "Look—"

"No," she interrupted. "You look. People can't fix other people, Jiraiya. They have to fix themselves. You couldn't fix me, and not because you're you, but because I wasn't ready to fix me. You can't fix Hiruzen-sensei, and you can't fix Orochimaru, because they don't want to be fixed. All of the shit they've pulled is on them, not you."

"He fixed you," said Jiraiya, almost involuntarily, the lingering piece of bitterness dislodging in the emotion of the moment.

"What are you talking about?"

"Kakashi," he said. "He managed to fix you."

"What?" asked Tsunade, standing up in outrage. "Is this why you've been a such a dick to him for the last month? Because you think he managed to fix me while you couldn't?"

"I haven't—"

"Don't bullshit me," she said. "Don't think I haven't noticed, and I'm sure he has, too. Though, he's had so much other shit to deal with, such as losing the people he cares about most, that I'm guessing he hasn't said anything about it."

"Why the hell do you care about him so much?" asked Jiraiya, standing, too. The first droplets of shame were beginning to creep through his veins, but he ignored them.

"Why the hell don't you?" she asked. "He's a good man. Do you want to know what he said to me, back at the hotel? Do you want to know what he said to make me come along? He told me that there was a future, that I had a future, where I was home and practicing medicine again—" Tears began to brim in her eyes, and she had to pause and look away to gain control of herself, making Jiraiya really start to feel like a dick. "—he told me that life could get better, if I would let it. But, I had to let it. Not him, not you, me. The only thing he did was tell me that I was a friend, that he understood what I was going through, and that he would be there for me as I figured out what it meant to get better."

Almost physically wincing, Jiraiya kicked himself. Deep down, he knew it was stupid to begin with, but her saying everything aloud highlighted just how ridiculous he had been. He was pointlessly an asshole to someone whose only crime was helping Tsunade, in the same way that Jiraiya could have but instead just chose not to.

"You're right," he said. "I've been a dick."

She nodded. "You know, somehow, he still thinks very highly of you. And, not just professionally. I mean personally, despite your petty bullshit. Which makes this extra stupid, because I know you think highly of him, because if you didn't, you would have left already."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologize to."

"No, I mean, I'll apologize to him, too," said Jiraiya. "But, I'm also sorry to you. We've known one another for three decades, but I wasn't there for you. I admit, I don't fully understand—" He made an open-palmed, circling gesture around her head that made her raise an eyebrow. "—what you're going through, but that's not an excuse."

Examining his expression critically, she said nothing, looking, like he had earlier, surprised that he cared. Then, she grinned, and he grinned, and they both realized that, despite their worries and the length of time that had passed, their old teammate was still in there somewhere.

"I've missed you," he said.

"I've missed you, too," she said, sitting back on the bed, and he followed. "If you tell anyone I said this, I'll kill you, but I've missed all of you."

"My lips are sealed," he said, and the grin faded. "About Kakashi, is he, you know, doing okay?"

"Would it kill the two of you to actually talk about things with one another?" He sent her a half-hearted glare, and she rolled her eyes. "He's dealing with everything well. Too well, actually."

"You think he's lying about something?"

She shook her head. "When…Dan died, I didn't decide to leave immediately. I didn't even think about it immediately. There's just so much you have do after those kinds of things. At first, I was busy with funeral arrangements, then busy with getting Shizune's adoption papers straightened out, then busy with sorting through his stuff and dealing with his house—" She looked down and fiddled with her bed sheet once again, and Jiraiya had a feeling she'd never told this to anyone before. "—but, eventually, that initial crunch time came to an end. Suddenly, I had a moment to think about things and that's when it all crashed down on top of me."

"You're worried this is crunch time," he guessed. "And that it's about to end."

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, he's not going to leave. That's not him. But, I don't know what is him. He loved them more than he's ever loved anyone else, Jiraiya, and it worries me."

"Speaking of stupid," said Jiraiya. "Of all the things Kakashi told us that are going to happen, there's only one thing I can focus on, and it's not the apocalypse, the destruction of the village, or anything grand scale."

"Minato's and Kushina's deaths?"

He nodded. "It's all I think about. So, yes, I'm worried, too. But, we'll keep an eye on him, alright? He's been through a lot of weird shit before. Maybe he'll make it through just fine."

"Hopefully," she said, frowning. "Back to the topic at hand, so someone doesn't wonder why we've been gone for so long—"

"They won't," said Jiraiya, grinning. "Surely, I look like the kind of guy that can make it last longer than twenty minutes, don't I?" Though he should have known he would have to dodge a blow, he couldn't get out of the way in time, and her fist made contact with his shoulder. "Ow, fuck, sorry. You were saying?"

"Back to our earlier conversation," she said, and that was enough to sober him up. "The way I see it, we need to ask ourselves two questions before we go back. First, can we forgive Hiruzen-sensei?"

"I can," said Jiraiya. Knowing how complicit he was in everything was a tough pill to swallow, but like Tsunade said, the Third was the closest thing either of them ever had to a father. They couldn't go back to the village and stay mad at one another forever. "But, I can't trust him. Not anymore."

Evidently agreeing, Tsunade nodded. "And the second," she said, and for the first time in all of this, her voice truly broke. "Are we going to kill Orochimaru?"

He wished, for both of their sakes, he could give her another answer. However, he could not sit there and condemn the Third's passiveness while doing the same thing.

"If it comes down to it," he said. "We have to, before he kills anybody else."

---

Jiraiya appreciated that the shower was a weird place to apologize, but it was the next time he and Kakashi were alone (except for Kabuto and Tenzō, who were in the communal shower with them), and it didn't involve the awkwardness of specifically asking Kakashi to talk to him one-on-one. Without warning, Jiraiya covered Tenzō's ears with his hands and looked at Kakashi expectantly. Raising an eyebrow, Kakashi hesitantly did the same to Kabuto's ears.

"I've been kind of a dick," Jiraiya whispered.

"Yeah,"

"I'm sorry about that."

Kakashi shrugged. "S'okay. I'm good to move on."

"Excellent," said Jiraiya, letting go of Tenzō's ears to clap Kakashi on the back.

Jiraiya went back to singing an old folk song from the Land of Lightning, making Kakashi wish someone would cover his ears. However, he did smile, glad to know that, in the nick of time, Jiraiya and Tsunade had evidently worked out their issues, and whatever tenseness had developed between Jiraiya and Kakashi was gone.

---

Only six days after the previous one, an emergency meeting was called at nine in the evening. Yahiko did not even bother with an introductory speech.

"It's done," he said, nearly breathless from the enthusiasm. "The Leaf and the Rock have agreed to create a peace treaty, and everyone else has agreed to an armistice if they can keep it. As soon as pens touch paper, the war is officially over."

Kakashi thought that the news would be enough to make Yahiko too busy to chat, instead having to use his time to coordinate intel gatherers and make future plans. However, like he had the previous meeting, Yahiko beckoned him back into the war room.

"I can't talk long," said Yahiko, once the door was shut. "But I've been working on something I want to show you."

Yahiko pulled out a stack of paper from underneath one of his books and laid them out on the table to create a giant, hand-made map. Except, instead of just border lines and capitals, most of the countries contained a small list.

"I wrote out the strengths and weaknesses for all of them," said Yahiko. "The ones I know, anyway. If we were to recruit each country into this theoretical union, we would need to know what they could bring to the table and what the table could bring them, to adjust our pitch accordingly."

"It's impressive," said Kakashi, examining it, and he meant it. It spoke of the skill of the Akatsuki's intelligence gathering network that he knew all those things in the first place. "You missed a strength for the Wave, though. They're good at transportation technology."

"Really?" asked Yahiko, raising an eyebrow.

"I went there, once. Since they're not connected to anything and have trouble importing necessary items, like food, they've been gathering knowledge on it. They want to start planning the construction of a massive bridge that provides a travel-way to land. They're not very far, yet, but they're farther than anyone else."

"Interesting," said Yahiko, penciling it in. "That could be useful, down the line, if they ever finish it."

For the rest of the time that Yahiko could spare, Kakashi helped him flesh out the map further, and together they brainstormed countries or clusters of them that could directly benefit from trade with one another. By the time someone dragged Yahiko away, the map was a mess of sticky notes and fresh pen marks, and Kakashi got to leave the war room with three beautiful words on his mind.

He bought it.

(Oh, Those Crazy Russians)

The kids were already asleep by the time Kakashi arrived back at the room, as it was nearing eleven, so he waited to break the news to Jiraiya and Tsunade in the morning.

"He bought it," said Kakashi, once the kids were out of the room and on their way to breakfast without them. "It's time to go home."

None of them were sure what to say, and a silence fell over them—not awkward, just uncertain. They were glad to go home, certainly, to be away from the cramped bunker and the weird, political cultists. However, they were all nervous of the unknown that home would bring them. Tsunade was expecting it, so it was easiest for her, but it was throwing off Jiraiya and Kakashi more than they wanted to admit.

"So, our plan," said Tsunade awkwardly. "How are we navigating the first couple weeks?"

"We have to make sure we all stay in the village until January," said Jiraiya. "We'll be no use in stopping Danzō if one of us gets called away for longer than expected. I can do whatever the hell I want to do, and Tsunade can do whatever the hell she wants to do—"

"I'll apply for personal leave," said Kakashi. "Since we're passing off Tenzō and Kabuto as my long-lost relatives, it won't even be suspicious. Ninja take time off all the time to take care of young kids and handle clan business." He frowned. "Speaking of, we can't put Tenzō in the Academy until after Danzō is taken care of. If he were to accidentally use wood style, it could ruin everything we've set up."

"I'll pretend to temporarily disqualify him for medical reasons," said Tsunade. "Say that there's some illness he needs to work through before he's physically ready for the academy. He still looks sickly. It'll be easy to pass off."

"We'll need to keep our heads down," said Jiraiya. "And keep the kids far away from Tsunade at first. She's going to cause a spectacle no matter what we do, and they can't afford to be in any sort of spotlight."

Sensing Tsunade's sudden discomfort and knowing that their return was a big deal for both of them, Kakashi asked, "Are you two ready?"

They couldn't lie to themselves or one another; it was weird. It was very weird. Life in the Rain, while devoid of sunlight and normal people, had grown comfortable. The constant routine and the six of them crammed into their tiny barrack was an easy life to live, and they never had to directly acknowledge the clusterfuck that was waiting for them in their real lives. Once they stepped foot in the village, nothing would ever be the same.

"No," said Tsunade. She was terrified—of course, she was terrified. How could she not be? "But, I think I won't ever be."

"You're not thinking of running, are you?" asked Jiraiya, only half joking, both he and Kakashi terrified, in turn, that she wouldn't stay.

"No," she said again. "I've got the two of you."

The admission relieved and charmed them both.

"It will be bizarre," said Jiraiya. "But we're bizarre, frankly. If we can make here work, of all places, we can make home work. As long as we bounce off one another, we'll be fine."

"Score one for the specialized team of the biggest fuck-ups on the planet," she said, with a lazy smile, still half-asleep.

"I still think it's still too long of a name," joked Kakashi.

"Hmm," said Jiraiya, making a show of thinking. "How about the Future Unit for Covert Keeping of Safety?"

"The FUCKS?" asked Tsunade. "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"About a week." Sitting up to see over Tsunade, Jiraiya studied Kakashi for a moment. "Are you ready?"

Like Jiraiya said, it would be bizarre. This Konoha was home, but it was not his home, all at the same time. He had been back to this Konoha twice, but for no more than twenty-four hours each time, and even then, he was haunted by the shadows of his Konoha etched into every inch of the village. But, he missed the openness, and he missed the trees, and he missed the skyline and all the buildings it contained.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go home."

Home, enough, anyway.

---

"Let me guess," said Yahiko, when Jiraiya caught Yahiko at a moment alone, entering the war room and shutting the door. "You're leaving?"

"How did you know?" asked Jiraiya, sitting down.

"I had a feeling you would when I announced the end of the war. I knew you'd want to be back in the village when it's made official and that the village would want you back then, too."

Jiraiya nodded. "We've decided to leave tomorrow."

"And your observations?" Like the last time he asked, there was a slip of vulnerability in his voice, despite his poise, like a child seeking approval from their parent. "What was your conclusion?"

Truthfully, the Akatsuki was whacked—a cult in every sense of the word—with a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But, it was an impressive cult, and Yahiko had turned into an impressive young adult, as had Nagato and Konan. Jiraiya couldn't help feeling pleased at how far they'd come. Jiraiya was still certain that, with a push in the right direction, which it seemed that Kakashi had given them, the Akatsuki could be force for good.

"A couple things," said Jiraiya. "First, I'm still really goddamn proud of you three. What you've created here is important. I can feel it."

"Well, as I said," said Yahiko, looking down at his notes, a slight blush to his cheeks but a smile on his face. "It's really all thanks to you."

"Yeah, well, you three made it easy to be a good teacher." But not good enough, he thought, in regard to Nagato. "Second, when you're talking to other people and other countries, I would ease up on the 'comrades' and the intense peace talk and the 'rising as the dawn.' It works really well for the people inside your organization, but for those that have no desire to be, it's going to freak them out."

"Noted."

"And, lastly," said Jiraiya, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward. "Never forget the power a group like this can have. You have to always, always use it for good and nothing else."

"We will."

"Swear to me."

"I swear," said Yahiko, raising an eyebrow. "Of course, I swear." He looked almost offended, surprised that his old teacher had to even reiterate such a concept to him. Examining Jiraiya and still seeing the tenseness in his demeanor, he narrowed his eyes. "Are we about to enter into the 'business' portion of this conversation?"

Jiraiya nodded. "I'm going to be honest with you. In January, Hanzō is planning on setting a trap for you. He's going to pretend to want to negotiate a peace agreement with you in order to separate you, Nagato, and Konan from the rest of the Akatsuki, and then he's going to kidnap Konan, kill her, kill you two, and kill the rest of the Akatsuki."

In the span of only thirty seconds, Yahiko silently cycled through an intense range of emotions. Dumbfounded processing came first, with a short-circuited, wide-eyed expression as he fully comprehended the meaning of Jiraiya's words. Resting his elbows on the table, he moved to surprise, taken aback that Hanzō would be so bold, and then disbelief, knowing, in his heart, he would have fallen for it. Finally, he settled on anger, clenching his jaw in rage as the veins throbbed in his neck.

"I see," said Yahiko, attempting to sound even but failing.

"Conveniently," said Jiraiya. "The guy he's planning to send as the messenger is someone we really need dead. So, my proposal is this: me and the other two come back in January, we lure the messenger into our own trap, and we kill him. It saves you, and it saves us."

"Killing isn't quite our way."

"Sometimes it's the only way," said Jiraiya, but he quickly added: "I mean, don't make a habit of it. And, you know, double check with someone before you have to kill someone to make sure it's in the name of good and it's justified. Never get carried away."

"And you're certain of this? About Hanzō?"

"I am."

Pausing, Yahiko took a deep breath to steady himself. "Then, yes. I agree to your proposal."

"You can tell Nagato and Konan, but you can't mention this to the rest of the Akatsuki or let on at all that anything is wrong. If I had to guess, there's already a spy in your midst."

Miserably, Yahiko rested his chin in the palms of his hands. Though he was a great leader and even greater at maintaining a mask of grace and diplomacy, he was only eighteen. He had suffered through several tragedies in his early life, but as the head of an organization, he was inexperienced in dealing with tough situations.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me, you know," said Yahiko.

"Konan?" asked Jiraiya, raising his eyebrows.

Yahiko nodded. "I don't know when we'd have time or if we'd ever have time, but it's nice to pretend we might."

"I look forward to receiving the wedding invitation," said Jiraiya, with a grin. He stood, and Yahiko followed. The latter still looked melancholy, so Jiraiya clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be back in January, in time. I promise."

"Alright." Before Jiraiya could go, he stopped him. "Jiraiya?"

"Yeah?" he asked, and Yahiko enveloped him in a hug.

"Thank you."

Jiraiya patted him on the back. "Any time, kid."

---

When Jiraiya returned to the room, he nodded at Kakashi and Tsunade, who had been waiting on the news of his success, and said, "Alright, kids, time for bed. We're going to have an early morning tomorrow."

"Why?" asked Shizune.

"Well, we still have to bleach Tenzō's hair, so if we want to get back to Konoha at a reasonable time, we'll need to get an early start."

Though the realization hit them at different times—first Shizune, then Tenzō, and lastly Kabuto—they each adopted the same, wide-eyed expression.

"Home?" asked Shizune, wide-eyed.

"Home."

"Home!" cheered all three of the kids in unison.

They began to excitedly freak out at one another, thrilled by the prospect of finally going back to Konoha. Shizune, though hesitant of being lumped in with the two younger boys early in their stay in the Rain, had developed a sibling-like fondness for them, and she energetically listed off all the things in Konoha that she was going to show them or take them to go do.

Exchanging glances, the adults, though amused by the kids' reactions, could not help but be less thrilled.

Out of the cult and into the catastrophe.

---

A/N: And, there we are! Thanks for waiting around for this chapter. We love each and every one of you guys. 20!8 is the year of recovery, pass it around.

Fun Fact of the Chapter: In the beginning stages of planning this story, we had to plot out what Kakashi was going to do about the major things he would want to change in the beginning, and we knew Kabuto was going to be on that list. So, we started joking around that he should just adopt Kabuto, and somewhere along the way we went "oh, wait, he could just totally adopt Kabuto."

Mini-FAQ:

Q: (paraphrased from a couple askers) Will there be conflict, or will this be more a fix-it fic?

A: Yes, there's going to be a lot of conflict. Thus far, we know it's only been mostly emotional conflict as everything is still getting set up and characters are getting used to one another, but next chapter the external conflict is going to pick up and there will be so much emotional and external conflict by the end of the story that you will probably want us to stop lol. Don't get us wrong; we love a good fix-it fic, and this was totally supposed to be one in the beginning.

But, as we were planning it out it, we realized that we were personally more interested on the different layers of exploring time travel itself, rather than just a mechanism to fix things: the psychological impact of such a world-shattering event on the time-traveler and on those around them, particularly those they choose to tell, the far-reaching political and social effects that something like that could have on a world, the consequences of playing god when you've changed too many things to have the upper hand anymore or created unintended effects. That sort of thing. Even though it was more of a niche interest, there were already people who had written fix-it fics with far more care than we wanted to, so we just decided to get as weird and complicated as we liked and somewhere along the way it morphed into whatever this is lol.

Q: Will we see villain POVs?

A: I wouldn't hold your breath too much. There will be some scattered throughout as needed, whether we think it adds something or it's necessary for plot reasons, but for the most part, just as we don't want to spoil any of the villains' plans to our main characters, we don't want to spoil any of the villains' plans to you guys. People be schemin'.