Examination: Friends
Unlike its counterpart in Sunagakure, the Konoha market was a somewhat more dignified, organized affair. While the stalls at the bazaar made up for their impermanence with bright colors and glittering fabric, the merchants here had on display hardy, hand-carved signs and tall banners that fluttered gaily in the breeze.
It wasn't the typical sort of place one might find Neji on his own time, but he and Sakura had been separated too much of late and he was more than willing to make up for lost time.
Her hair caught the sun as she quibbled cheerfully with a merchant over produce, and he faintly remembered a time in which he wouldn't have deigned to notice such supposedly minor and inconsequential details. He'd been a different person then, committed to his craft and an inexcusable personal philosophy he was glad to be rid of. Granted, it had been his way of making sense of what he perceived to be the way of the world and he'd been ignorant of the truth, but he was no less ashamed.
Watching her tuck a loose strand behind an ear as she collected her change, he couldn't contemplate the person he might have become if he'd not changed and quite frankly had no desire to know.
Nowadays, he was no less committed to becoming better at what he did, but he had different reasons now. Case in point: Sakura turned to look at him out of one eye, and the satisfied smirk on her lips brought one to his own. If there was anything he could do to bend his talents to her needs, he would do it.
She'd once told him, what seemed like an eternity ago, that he was not exactly who she'd thought he was. She'd never specified exactly what she'd meant by that, but he was certain he knew. It had rather driven home the point that he'd been clinging to the edge of a bitter, petty insanity and that the perception of his malaise had not entirely dissipated even after its passing.
After all, before they'd really come to know one another, the last time he'd seen much of Sakura had been during the calamitous events of their own examinations, and certainly first impressions were often the deepest.
While he was distracted, she grabbed for his hand and without warning thrust them both out into the thoroughfare, pulling him through the throng in her wake. He'd learned some time ago asking her to slow down was futile because she was childish and headstrong and did things at her own pace. Damned if whatever she was doing was undignified or contentious, she would do it and drag him along with her if she wanted to.
But if she was stubborn and juvenile and even vulgar if her ire was up, she was in equal measure kind, gentle, and intelligent. If her emotions swung wildly and if she was wildly unpredictable, so be it, because she was honest in the extreme and defended anyone she cared about with an admirable sort of fanaticism. He'd found he was more than willing to deal with her lesser aspects in exchange for everything else.
And, he thought, as she navigated them free from the crowd and into the shade of a cluster of planted maples, she was beautiful. Light sifted through the leaves and dappled over skin that glowed healthily, and mischief glittered in those green eyes as she looked to him and raised an eyebrow. He looked like the specter of death by comparison, long and pale.
"Well?" she said, as she brushed samaras clear of the stone bench with both hands and sat down, crossing her legs. "You've been staring off into space all morning, and don't think I didn't notice."
"I was thinking," he said, following suit to find the bench agreeably cool in the rising heat, "how grateful I am that I found a life of my own before someone in the clan arranged a marriage for me."
The look she gave him implied that he was perhaps crazy, and she leaned away, folding her arms.
"Because of course I had nothing to do with that."
"Of course you had everything to do with that," he said, and gently pulled her towards him by the elbow. "And the alternative isn't pleasant."
The image came to him, unbidden. A woman from within the clan, or without -- it didn't matter, she was faceless in his imagination anyway -- bound to him probably for reasons external to the marriage itself. Someone resilient, obedient, someone with good breeding and respect for tradition. Someone who would make no waves because she'd been told something was more important than she was.
He winced inwardly.
"At least you'd get to spend more time with this hypothetical woman," she said, and she put away her pretense of offense and leaned against his shoulder. He put an arm around her waist, and she had a point. She'd been out all week on her mission, and though this was only the second day since their reunion it wouldn't be long before they were separated again.
"You assume I would want to. I see it far more likely I'd keep myself busy instead."
"She wouldn't fight with you nearly as much as I would. Or 'drag you around like a dog' as I think you put it once."
"Exactly," he said, and she head butted him, hair flying around her face. "You're a challenge."
Her eyes lit up, in the way that presaged she was about to do something ridiculous, uncouth, and completely uncalled for. There was caprice there, in spades.
"I'll give you a challenge, if that's what you want."
Sakura turned on the bench, trapping his hand against her waist with her elbow and pinning it with a surge of strength that made his fingers tingle. She pivoted on one knee and swung her other leg across his lap, holding him captive against the back of the stone bench.
"Just think about everyone around us," she said with a canary-eating smile, so quietly he had to resist the temptation to lean his head in to hear her better. He could feel his blood rising at the base of his neck, and elsewhere.
Still, he had his pride, and he could push back just as well.
"I do believe they would wonder what exactly you were trying to accomplish."
It was hard to keep himself stone-faced, much less even-voiced when she dipped two fingers into his collar and let her fingernails drag along his chest, but he'd been practicing his entire life. He was, at least, thankful he was wearing a t-shirt -- or else she'd have been half way to his navel in her effort to push at his boundaries.
"Hmph. I think they'd probably wonder why it was Hyuuga's wife was so desperate."
"...no doubt coming to the conclusion that she was crazed."
Her nose brushed his, and he inhaled on her exhale, and waited.
"Oh, you're no fun," she said, and was surprised when he stole a small, chaste kiss from her as she pulled back. "Damn you."
"What good is a man who doesn't appreciate his woman?"
Her position, sitting back astride his knees, was still somewhat compromising, but she could make anything look innocent. She did, too, because he held her gaze until she laughed for no apparent reason at all and threw her arms around his neck. She was still baffling, he thought, and kissed her again, properly this time.
"I did miss you while I was out," she said, and he nodded into her hair.
"You made that abundantly clear last night. I nearly forgot to tell you: Haruka came to visit while you were away."
"She did?"
"I presume before she left for the examination in Sunagakure. Most likely she was hoping for your support."
Sakura shifted in his lap, turning so that she sat across his legs and unfolded her legs across the rest of the bench, winding them around the two bags of groceries next to them.
"Well, she has it, in any case. I hope you wished her luck, too. At least we know her team didn't flunk out after the first round."
"What makes you say that?"
"If they had, they'd be home by now. Actually, I suppose that means all of our teams have made it to the second round this year. Isn't that strange?"
"More so considering I don't believe Itoh's team is quite ready yet."
"That's unkind. How do you know?"
He shook his head. Itoh's team had been bait for one of his assignments recently, and though it had been successful, he had his reservations.
"I don't mean to say they're unskilled. They look to him too much for support without considering that he will not always be present to guide them. They're too dependent."
"Hm. Well, maybe they figured it out at the last. So what did you do with her? I hope you didn't just send the poor girl on her way."
"Certainly not. She, at least, appreciates decorum, a trait whose development I can only credit to my cousin, and not the other two responsible for her upbringing. We had tea, played chess, and I offered her some advice."
Sakura wrinkled her nose at the implication.
"She's a quiet girl on her own without Hinata's help. How'd it go?"
"She was upset that I cheated," he said, and smirked. Sakura punched him.
"You're a cruel, cruel man."
"I have to be. She took the lesson well, however. I told her anything was fair game, and that she should have cheated as well if she thought she could get away with it. Also that an opponent should never be considered defeated, especially if you are sure that they are."
"If I remember correctly it was Naruto who taught you that one."
"For that I thank him. I think," he said, and Sakura rubbed her knuckles against his jaw in a gentle mockery of an uppercut. She tried it again but he intercepted her hand and kissed it.
"Well, she likes you enough that she'll forgive you. I think. I hope they made it through to the finals, then. Kiba's got a solid team with her and the other two girls."
Someone cleared their throat tactfully behind them, and Neji glanced aside to see a man in an unseasonably heavy coat and sunglasses standing there.
"I am sure my niece would thank you if she were here," Aburame Shino said, his voice somewhat muffled behind the cowl that covered the lower half of his face. "Unfortunately, Neji, we have work to do. I apologize, Sakura."
"Wait, what?" Sakura stood to free him, but she looked about as confused as he was apprehensive. "I thought you were free until..."
Shino withdrew a hand from his pocket, index finger extended. Upon it sat the glistening yellow lump of one of Tsunade's friendly slugs, eyestalks extended in greeting. Neji stood, and rested his hands on his his wife's shoulders.
"I'm afraid this is an emergency," Shino said. "Neji and I are to report in as soon as possible."
"A moment, then, Shino. I'll be there shortly."
Shino vanished, leaving only a lingering buzzing sound and the clattering of chitinous legs. Sakura turned around in his arms, and her eyes were downcast.
"It never fails, does it?"
"No," he said. "But know that I will miss you."
"Even though I'm an undignified, challenging wreck of a woman?" She smiled, and it was somehow shy and self-assured all at once, the same smile that had first caught his attention over tea ten years ago. He'd miss that more than anything.
"I love you because you are. You'd have to be, to live with a cruel, unfeeling monster like myself."
He bent to kiss her, giving her the searing, satisfying union she'd been seeking earlier because teasing her was only fun if it ended this way.
"I love you too," she said, breathing a little less steadily as the touch of her tongue faded from his own. "Take care of yourself and don't be stupid."
He promised.
OoOoOoO
Beneath the same clear sapphire sky and a raging sun, Ino slowed to a walk and halted in the much-beloved shade of the rock overhang marked on her map. Hideo and Takeshi pulled up short behind her, and Daijiro had already made a dash for the thin trickle of cool water dribbling down the rock face.
It was really no wonder Sunagakure could exist with as few ninja as it did, she thought, tugging at her collar to let her shirt breathe a little. Who in their right mind would want this place?
Daijiro had already dumped out what little warm water was left in his canteen and proceeded to fill it, drink from it, and refill it before Hideo gave him a grumpy nudge in the ribs with his foot.
"Hey, there are other people waiting, you know."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm done," Daijiro said, and moved aside to let the rest of the team take their share.
Takeshi offered to refill her bottle, and Ino was more acutely aware of how uncharacteristic it was for him. She silently damned Kiba but let her genin take care of it for her. Her boys did not see her that way, for crying out loud.
"All right," she said after slaking her thirst. "We'll take a twenty minute break and then I think it's just a short hop to the border. We're making good time."
"But we're still behind Team Four," Hideo said, and the other two groused along with him.
Ino tried to smile despite the heat that had glued her bangs to her forehead and her clothes to her skin with more sweat than she knew she had in her.
"Well, they didn't make it to the last phase either," she said gently. "And they weren't all that far ahead of you, if I remember right. You did just fine, boys. I'm proud of you."
It didn't seem to help morale that much. Takeshi kicked a big rock and watched it disturb a flank of loose sandstone that crumbled away down the slope towards the desert floor.
"We could have done better if..."
"That's enough," Ino said in warning. He had a bad habit of assigning blame, whether to himself or others, and she was intent on breaking it before the next exam rolled around. "I know exactly how you did and you did your best knowing what you did at the time. That's all I ask."
Takeshi nodded in apology, but they still looked dejected. She sighed.
"Look, guys. I know of exactly one person who was promoted to chuunin on his first try. Heck, I didn't make it to the finals my first go round." She started naming names, ticking them off on her fingers as examples of people who hadn't gone all the way. There were a lot of luminaries in there, people she knew her team had heard of and respected.
"The point is, it's a hard exam for a reason. First-timers usually don't make it all the way, and I'm proud of you for getting as far as you did."
"If we weren't going to make it anyway, why come all the way out here?"
"For the experience, Takeshi. You've done your blind run. You know you have what it takes to finish the first and second parts of a typical exam, you've seen what it's going to be like next time. And when it rolls around, you'll be ready for it. Team Eight has a year on you guys, and it's that year of experience that got them through."
Chouji had called it, as usual. His team had finished the Labyrinth in third place, with a comfortable margin for error, so they were staying another two weeks for the individual fights that would determine how many of those genin would get their promotions.
"Yeah, next time," Daijiro said. "Next time, guys."
He held up a hand in the secret handshake they'd concocted, and Hideo met it with more enthusiasm than he'd been overtly showing. Takeshi followed after a while, though still a little despondently.
"That's more like it. Now rest up, drink up, take care of business if you have to, and we'll get going in a bit. I don't want to have to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary."
They'd been traveling most of the morning, and she wanted to at least make it to the border and the outpost Sunagakure maintained there so they could rest through the worst part of the day. Hideo had had a point about Kiba's team though. There were enormous dog tracks in the sand, so Akamaru had been through here not too long ago. She supposed it didn't matter too much that they'd gotten a late start, but at least they'd get to rest at the outpost rather than under a tree somewhere in the middle of nowhere as a result.
Well, at least he'd put her somewhat at ease. Her last day in Sunagakure she hadn't quite been able to shake the apprehensive premonition that was still chasing her, but at least Kiba had settled her enough she could have a little fun. Plus, he was easy to mock, since she'd discovered he'd gotten himself drunk enough to pass out in the middle of brushing his teeth on the first night.
Ten minutes later they were en route again, and she found herself daydreaming about a bath and air conditioning. The reappearance of small, desiccated shrubs and stunted grasses was a good sign that they were getting closer to Konohagure's more welcoming climes.
The outpost itself was nothing special.
It was a single story adobe building with rudimentary battlements adorning the roof, and the skeleton of an aluminum radio tower. A stairwell cut into the stone along the north wall suggested that there was a basement, probably for storing supplies.
It was also the only major feature in miles, and they'd just made it as the sun was getting to its absolute worst. Again she noticed the trail of Akamaru's broad paws waltzing around on the ground, and as she followed them into the grass she realized in puzzlement that they were heading south-east. Kiba couldn't have gotten lost, the outpost was right here, for crying out loud.
One of the ninjas manning the outpost shouted to them from the roof top, and leapt down to greet them. He was wearing a smarmy smile at her team's rather bedraggled condition, and she wanted to punch him assuming she could muster the energy.
"Welcome," he said, chewing on a long strand of the weedy local grass. "I'm going to assume you want to come inside."
"Hi," she said, voice croaking and dry, "That'd be nice."
Ugh, she thought, I sound hideous.
Their ally led them around to the stairwell and showed them into the basement, which was dark but cool, thank the gods. He offered them water and showed the boys the best places to lie down, which they filled gratefully. Before she had a chance to sit, though, he motioned for her to come upstairs.
Ino was loathe to leave this newfound haven, but she gathered herself and trudged up behind him into the main room. The sand ninja introduced himself properly and sat her down with some incredibly strong coffee.
"When you leave here, you're going to want to head south-east, along the border instead of heading straight across the usual way. We've closed this crossing for now, but the trade routes further south are still open and we strongly recommend you take your team down that way."
The restlessness that had been stirring in her stomach over the last two or three days exploded back into being with a vengeance, and Ino forced herself to keep still.
"What's happened?"
He shook his head, more nervously than she liked.
"We think there's a missing-nin operating in this region, and we've been ordered not to let anyone head across through here until he's found. And, if I may? You're from Konoha, so I suppose it's only fair I let you know."
"Go on," she said, and the dread rising in her throat brought a bitter taste with it.
"One of the teams from your village were among the victims. We found their papers, they were lead by a man named Itoh, I think?"
"Oh, hell."
She didn't know what else to say. Itoh had been a few years younger than her and her closer friends, and she didn't know him all that well, but what did that matter? He was one of theirs, a citizen for Konoha, who loved and cared for the village and the nation he represented. She could have hated him personally and still avenged his death because they were the same.
And she shivered to think that it could have just as easily been her, ambushed and destroyed unawares.
"I already told your colleague who came through here earlier, the one with the huge dog and the three girls. I'm not sure if you'll catch up to them, they went on about two hours ago and are probably at the first village down that way already. If I'd known there were more of you coming I'd have told him to wait so you could move together."
They set out again mid-afternoon once the breezes had started again, and Ino was wound taut, the humming spring of readiness coiled and alloyed with the same gut feeling that had taunted her ever since they'd arrived in the desert.
"Be ready, guys. I have a bad feeling about this," she said, and was immediately gratified by the shift in their attitudes. Daijiro ceased his usual screwing around and tucked kunai into his sleeves, Takeshi's usual scowl of irritation transformed into one of defiance and warning, and Hideo relaxed. The first time she'd seen it it had thrown her for a loop, but he was more aware and his reflexes were faster when he let himself go. Maybe he was better at this instinct thing than she was.
Even more satisfying was the fact that she hadn't had to explain herself, or tell them what had happened to Itoh's team. There was no sense in frightening them or letting them fret about the youngsters they'd once shared a class with, because that could only impede them when they needed to be on top of their game, even more so than for a silly exam.
They travelled in a loose but well practiced formation, with Hideo in the front projecting a broad spectrum illusion that they were further back than they actually were, and Dai not far behind him covering Takeshi, but still close enough to back up Hideo if that's where the threats were. Ino took up the rear position because she was the fastest, and could afford to turn and check behind them when necessary.
Time slowed to a crawl when she was on alert, and this was no different. Every shrub and tree needed to be checked, and even though they hadn't cut their speed the miles shrank at a turtle's pace.
If not for the screaming siren in her gut, Ino would have been bored at that point, and that's what she was thinking when the katana burst unannounced from between her sixth and seventh ribs and tore free from her chest in a scarlet spray of shredded flesh.
Or, at least, that was what the rest of the world saw, and Ino was incredibly thankful she'd taken precautions as she spun to meet her attacker, whose sword had actually passed two feet to her right as her illusion bled out and fizzled on the sun-parched clay. Her boys were already recovering from the shock of seeing her die, and she would have to apologize later for fooling them as well, but having them interact with the genjutsu instead of her lent it the credence that had saved her life.
But her mind was blank and she spun, a kunai already in each hand as she reached for the sword still cleaving through its recovery. If she wasn't particularly strong, she was light and fast, and she slashed upward, aiming for the tendons of the wrist holding the blade.
Her attacker stepped back with a deft sureness, and he was good enough that the genjutsu hadn't fazed him. He was tall too, taller than even her by the better part of a foot and with the sun in her eyes and the hood over his head she couldn't see anything of his face other than his choppy black hair. The details could wait, and she kept her focus clean, eyes on his torso and her mind on the blade as she stepped into his reach and flicked the kunai in her left hand up towards his head, forcing him to tilt his head away or risk taking the whole of it into his chin.
Behind her, Takeshi's hands flew through a few seals, and the handful of kunai that he lobbed past her and her opponent landed in the dry grass, setting it aflame to give him something else to think about.
Even as she closed, her attacker slashed out in the midst of his recovery, and she ducked and spun beneath the blade, traveling against it. Ino let her index finger slip through the loop at the end of her kunai's handle, freeing her hands long enough to flash the seals for a replacement in case she needed it, and came up on the man's defenseless weapon arm and struck.
He turned away, and metal clashed on metal as his sword came down behind his shoulder to force away her blade. She swore under her breath and wove back. She breathed in the pause and the smoke stung her throat.
Shuriken rained down as Daijiro and Hideo took their opportunity to strike, and before he could retaliate against them, she rushed back, hoping to take advantage of the momentary distraction. He was good, but there were four of them and she could afford to take small rests like this one while he couldn't. He'd lost the element of surprise, and she'd make him pay for it.
The air rang with the clattering cacophony of traded blows and the crackling thunder of the flash fire, interspersed with the patter of falling shuriken. Even though she held a nominal advantage, this style of battle wasn't Ino's forte, and she knew it. Much better to sow confusion and disorder from a range, when she had the advantage of surprise, and then strike with her team when her opponent was mired in his own mind.
Now, she was forced into a straight contest of taijutsu, which was not preferred. Even so, it wasn't like she was helpless. She evaded another high strike by rolling low and to the side, and her hands found purchase in the cracks of the burning ground -- she'd barely had time to throw out some chakra to protect them -- and she wrenched her torso in a half circle, her hips carrying her legs through a vicious double kick at head height. Both feet missed, but she landed on them in a crouch, and slashed back the way she came.
She connected, and grinned as the satisfying sound of tearing cloth echoed close in her ears...and then frowned just as quickly as she realized it wasn't flesh she was cutting into. Light assailed her eyes and she triggered her kawarimi out of pure reflex.
From the place of the scorched dead tree that had assumed the temporary appearance of her body, she watched herself fry, wracked with flaying arcs of brilliant azure-white electricity. There was always something terrible about it and she shivered despite the heat.
"Was that...was that a clone or something?" Hideo said, and Ino could feel her heart thumping as the adrenalin burned out.
"I guess. This just...this just proves we're in a lot of trouble here. Whoever sent it is going to be around here somewhere so look out."
But things were quiet again until sundown.
OoOoOoO
By the time Sakura returned home, it was already well past noon.
She threw the groceries in the fridge -- Neji had of course eaten nearly everything there had been when she'd been called away and hadn't replaced it because these things didn't actually occur to him unless he was prompted -- and threw herself down on the couch with a disgruntled sigh. He was already long gone, and though the hallway closet door was closed, she wouldn't have to check it to know the shelf reserved for his gear was already cleared out.
A neatly folded scrap of paper on the coffee table caught her eye; he did everything neatly, from folding his clothes to tucking in chairs when he left a room. When they'd first come to live in this place, she'd harbored incredible doubts as to the flak she'd receive over things that were not at right angles to each other, and yet he'd not once complained or raised an eyebrow.
For a while she'd almost tried to test him, she remembered, plucking the little tent of white parchment from the tabletop. She never let herself become messy per se, but she had folded things awkwardly and had put away the dishes in mixed and uneven stacks, and still he said nothing. She'd discovered that he was a meticulous perfectionist and incredibly harsh on disorder and disorganization -- in himself.
He simply did not care what other people did or thought. And since she wore her own clothes, and was responsible for her shelf in the equipment closet, and generally tolerated about as much sloppiness in the washroom as she did, it became a non-issue.
She eventually admitted it to him, and he'd just said that they had far more important things to actually aggravate each other about. Which was true, after all. When they did fight, it was volcanic, like the time he'd discovered that Hinata and Naruto had been playing house in secret for six years right under his nose.
She'd won that one, but only after she'd screamed that they were adults and could do whatever they damn well pleased and he'd gone to sulk on the training grounds for nearly seven hours in the middle of the night because he was too proud to admit defeat, too stoic to admit it hurt he'd not been trusted, too much of an asshole to be happy for them, and too damned irrational about the few people he really cared about.
They agreed that the small things could hang.
Sakura unfolded the note, and his writing was tidy, legible, and flowed like water, and obviated her plan to go harass Tsunade to find out where he'd been sent. Not that Tsunade ever told her, since it violated far too many rules, but she felt it was worth the effort anyway.
He was going somewhere into the badlands on the Kaze no Kuni border with Shino, to meet up with Shikamaru and Sunagakure's representative. There'd been a diplomatic incident with deaths involved, but he knew no more. Shikamaru was supposed to explain the rest when they arrived.
Well, she thought, at least he was in good company, although she hoped that the sand-nin had some medical training anyway. Still, she was left with a handful of shattered plans and nothing else to do for the rest of the day.
Dejected, she was about to toss the note back on the table when she noticed a post-script on the verso, and flipped over the small page to read it. Check the closet, his words suggested, and who was she to argue if he was going to entertain her?
She rolled back and kicked herself upright, hurling herself towards that closed door with perhaps too much enthusiasm. His shelf was, of course, empty save a few bits and pieces -- extra kunai and batteries and whatnot. For a while she couldn't quite understand what it was he wanted her to see, until her eye wandered down to her cluttered shelf.
Sitting atop the crumpled crimson nest of one of her spare combat tunics was a block of what looked like granite, a pale salmon colour mottled with flecks of black olivine and shot through with veins of quartz. It was about the size of her cupped hands as she gathered it up and brought it into the light, and once out of the shadows she realized it was a reasonably good impression of the flower that gave her her name.
Sakura knew right away he'd carved it, because he'd taken up a new training regime about a year ago and she'd caught him at it. At first, it had been laughable, watching him jabbing at a boulder in the woods with just his fingers instead of the training dummies that would at least burn with the exuded chakra he used as a weapon. Scowling, he'd explained that he could see the fissures in the rock, and was trying to refine his control of jyuuken to the point where he could exploit those weaknesses and break it apart.
The first time it had been successful had been something to behold, when he tapped the stone and it calved like a glacier breaking into the sea, shedding a slice of rock thicker than her head.
That had been months ago, and now she held the rough-hewn fruits of his effort. It wasn't delicate by any means, or even pretty, and the idea had probably only come to him as he was already chopping another great stone into pieces. But it was hers now, and if he wasn't particularly romantic in the usual and prolific way she imagined other men might be, his gifts were simple and honest. And if they were sparse and few between, they held more meaning and value individually.
She could see talent in the stone flower, however, and she felt the first inklings of a plan to encourage him. Maybe she could convince him to try other types of rock, more pliable and better-suited to sculpture -- and she almost laughed at the thought. It was totally absurd, trying to manipulate him into taking up art, but stranger things had happened.
Things were not the way she'd ever imagined them, but things changed. She'd changed, when she'd realized that she had to make her own way if she wanted to keep up, instead of following others on their paths. When she'd realized that feeling a certain way about a person was only a tenth as good as knowing they felt the same way.
She'd learned that the hard way and it was a lesson she was not bound to forget, and she carefully placed the flower on the kitchen table. It looked good there, and she couldn't help but sneak glances at it now and then while she went about the rest of her routine.
Still, Sakura had gone entirely stir-crazy an hour later with nothing better to do than read medical journals and the dry, retrospective case studies they entailed.
The sky outside had ripened from the pale crystalline blue of the morning to a watery indigo, and the first wisps of high, tangled clouds were drifting across the face of heaven as she made her way across town. She'd picked up some confections in the morning and intended to leave her adoptive niece a present to congratulate her on a job well done or to console her on a chance taken -- more likely the latter.
Her target was an old medium-rise building not actually that far from Naruto's old home, a somewhat more decrepit building further away from the center of town. It lacked style and taste in a way that complemented Naruto himself, but that only gave it a character that seemed appropriate.
Sakura had her own key, even though the apartment's usual inhabitants mostly used the skylight or windows for access, and she gave the disused lock a chance to redeem itself for once.
"Hello?"
She wasn't certain there would necessarily be anyone here as Naruto had an assignment after all, and he might have already left. There was no reply so she let herself the rest of the way in.
It was much cleaner than she remembered Naruto ever being. The kitchen sink was, of course, full of dirty bowls and the garbage full of empty ramen containers, but at least there weren't strange stains marking the countertops and unholy growths crawling along their bottoms. Living with Haruka had been good for him.
She tucked her present for the girl into the fridge, and busied herself clearing the mess in the sink, somewhat disappointed there was no one here to talk to. Afterward, she cleared out the dryer and kicked open the door to his room, intending to dump it on his bed with a scathing note about keeping up on his chores.
At least, until she heard the terrified squeak of surprise and spotted Hinata pulling up the sheets to cover herself.
Sakura chose the better part of valor and dumped the clothing on the couch instead, shouting back an apology.
"Sorry! I had no idea you were in here!"
There was the rustle of blankets from within and a frenzied scrabble, and then very slowly, Hinata dared peek out into the living room, scarlet-faced and wearing one of Naruto's larger t-shirts. And not much else.
"Um. Hi, Sakura. I think...I think I overslept."
"I'd say you did, yes, among other things. Do you know what time it is?"
Hinata looked sheepish, and tried in vain to pull tangles from her hair.
"Eleven?" she hazarded, after some thought.
"Worse than that," Sakura said, and marched her in the direction of the washroom. "Go clean up, I'll get you something to eat."
Sakura had to admit, as the steady drum-beat of water hammered away in the background, that Neji had had a point in his outrage regarding what went on in this place. Even when he'd admitted there was little he or anyone could or should do to stop it, he'd warned her that his clan would stop at nothing to destroy both Naruto and Hinata if they found out, and even her father would be unable to stop it even if he cared to.
It could only get worse with Hiashi ailing as he was.
"And here I thought you were a morning person," Sakura said, as she pressed a mug into Hinata's hands before they sat down.
"I didn't get much sleep," she said, trying to sink into the folds of her shirt.
"Don't you ever worry that someone is going to realize you're not where you're supposed to be? I love you and Neji both, but your family...well, your clan still scares me."
Hinata shook her head, in the curt, controlled motions of an aristocrat, and the shift in the conversation seemed to bring wake up the Hyuuga in her.
"Not as much as I used to. Naruto helped me build the seal...it's a fairly powerful illusion."
Hinata blushed only a little at the mention of his name, but settled herself. Sakura saw the poise seep into her friend's small body, incremental corrections in her posture that left her an untouchable noblewoman. It was hard to reconcile, and if not for the perpetual softness of Hinata's eyes it would have been impossible to tell it was still her.
Circumstance had forced the poor girl to make an actress of herself.
"I thought your eyes could differentiate between illusions and reality. Except, wait, Neji was saying something about this."
"It's a useful misconception. We can see, for example, if an illusionary person lacks a chakra system. Unfortunately it feeds into the myth of infallibility some people have built up around our clan."
Hinata let slip a tiny, self-satisfied smile even though she was still looking into her tea out of embarrassment.
"It's a two-layered enchantment -- a visual layer, and another inside it to fool anyone using the byakugan. You can't tell anyone, though..."
"As if I would, silly. I really wasn't expecting to find you here, though. Neji was late coming home last night -- he said there was a clan meeting, although he didn't explain much."
Hinata's eyes darkened and her shoulders stiffened in memory, but as she related the course of the meeting, she looked more hopeful than anything. The thought of Naruto as Hokage and husband seemed to lighten even the weight of Hinata's embarrassment, and Sakura wondered if ever there was a woman who deserved to steal back her happiness as much as Hinata.
"I...I envy Neji, you know. I envy you both, but I could never say it to him. Sometimes...sometimes I feel that who I am is more of a curse than his juuin is. It's a selfish thought, I know, but..."
"I can't say I blame you," Sakura said. "I'll say this, though: Tsunade has told me she doesn't think there's anyone else who should have the job..."
Hinata's sudden levity was infectious, but Sakura was forced to remember the Hokage's one caveat, and Hinata's face fell just as quickly.
"...but she says he's not ready yet."
"It's...I'm sorry, I have to say it. It's Uchiha, isn't it?"
Sakura blinked.
"What? I mean, she hasn't told me, but...what?"
"It is, I'm sure. I think...I like to think I know Naruto better than most people, even you. He still talks about him sometimes. Uchiha is like...was like the brother I think Naruto wanted. Like family, just like he considers you his sister now. He still wants to find him, maybe bring him back."
"We haven't even heard of Sasuke since the Akatsuki collapsed."
She remembered, and it was painful. He'd arrived on the last battleground as she, Naruto, and the others rested and licked their wounds, clustered around the corpse of another bearer of the sharingan. One they hadn't known existed, but one who had to die in any case for the survival of the village.
Both she and Naruto had called out to him, and Naruto had tried to chase him down, but he'd vanished. She'd never forget the look of pain and the writhing anger she'd seen in him before he left.
"I know," Hinata said, saddened. "He could be anywhere, and I don't think the trail could get colder. I just...I want Naruto to realize he has family here, more than Haruka or I. Or you."
Sakura knew exactly what she felt, and let her fingers rest gently around Hinata's wrist to underline their unofficial sisterhood. After all, hadn't she felt the same, once, when she wished Sasuke could see what she already knew?
OoOoOoO
Konohagakure's outpost was miles away different from the one mirrored by Sunagakure on the far side of their shared buffer nation, if you didn't count the secret sub-basements both possessed. It was somewhat less conspicuous, having the beginnings of a forest growing all around it, and built primarily of wood. Even so, it was much larger, with a fenced in courtyard, a much more overt armory, and a two story building with a similar radio aerial jutting from its rooftop.
Even with the proximity of the forest, it was still an ungodly hot day, and Shikamaru was glad to be outdoors where the breeze and the shade could shelter him, rather than stuck in that stuffy, insulated building with windows that blocked the wind.
The outpost was quiet today, though, the gate locked and sealed. He'd assigned the normal contingent of ninjas stationed here to somewhat more intensive patrols up and down the border instead of the looser, more sporadic bandit hunting expeditions they normally mounted. There was only one team left, and they were assigned the cramped indoor duties he hated.
Having a close ally like Suna on this border was one thing which both nations could appreciate. Suna didn't have a lot of manpower, in particular, though their ninjas were of high quality, but being able to station them primarily along the long northern border instead of being stretched thin on two fronts was a clear strategic advantage. For Konoha, who had many ninjas but also very many borders, it was one less thing to worry about, even though they tried to keep relations as cordial as possible. Being surrounded tended to inspire anxiety in a nation.
"No sign of them yet," Temari said, leaning over the edge of the roof above him. "You're sure you let them know this was urgent?"
"For the last time, yes, I did. They're not late yet."
Temari was drumming her fingers on the eaves, and she hadn't let up in over an hour. She didn't seem to notice, but her impatience was maddening sometimes. Well, whatever, he thought, and started up the tall ladder leaned up against the side of the main house.
"Or you could just jump up here. So who are they sending anyway?"
He shook his head in irritation, and she grinned down at him.
"Neji and Shino. If you remember who they are."
"Neji...with the white eyes, right? Shino...not ringing a bell."
"Aburame, if that helps," he said, and hoisted himself up onto the shingles with an exaggerated grunt. He waved a bottle of water in her direction without looking, and she took it, also without looking.
"Oh, right. Lots of bugs."
She was one of the few who could contemplate the notion without shivering in disgust, but she was like that. She ate scorpions if there wasn't anything else around, but maybe that was a Suna thing anyway. She drank fast, gulping back a third of the bottle before wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her wrist and recapping it.
She was getting restless, and there was nothing more volatile than Temari when she was restless. At her core was some stellar ball of energy, he imagined, a furnace that burned hot all the time, and if it wasn't given an outlet it would build until it burst -- usually to the detriment of everyone around her.
She vented in two rather distinct ways. Either she did it through destruction, whether she was carving up a swath of desert training or by slaughtering some dumb fool on a mission; or she did it through him, which was frequently just as painful in the aftermath as it was pleasurable in the act, not that he minded.
As they were on alert now, they were pretty much limited to the first option, which meant he was just going to have to put up with her. Oh well.
And she hated waiting. The murders had only served to fuel the engine within her; she wanted justice and vengeance and resolution come hell or high water, and she needed to be doing something about it. Anything more than sitting here on a rooftop with him waiting for reinforcements to arrive.
That aside, they were more alike than he necessarily enjoyed. She was bright, and probably one of Suna's best minds, not to mention a close relative and confidante of the Kazekage -- which meant she was ideal for helping to coordinate strategics with his country. Shikamaru had volunteered for the spot, because he'd imagined he could avoid the hassle of regular missions and keep to himself in a quiet part of the woods. Big miscalculation, that, since he hadn't factored her into the equation before committing. And it didn't relieve him from having to report in for the occasional mission, either.
She kicked him to get his attention. When he didn't react, she settled for squeezing the inside of his thigh a little too hard and a little too high for comfort.
"Hey. Talk to me."
"Fine," he said, and shrugged. "I'm still trying to piece together the why here."
"Lay it on me, Mr. Strategic Liaison," she said, and turned to wrap her legs around his torso. Shikamaru stared out over the edge of the forest and out onto the plains where they'd found the corpses. The river was little more than a silver glint in the basin below them, hours away even at a good speed.
"On the one hand, it's possible we have an agitator looking to start problems for us by disturbing the peace. The more I think about it, though, the less I like it. Some of the kills are far too personal."
"We did consider the sadist angle."
"Yeah, we did. But if he's good enough to put down a jounin before they even notice him, he could easily toy with all three genin rather than just the one or two he has been. So why not? There's no consistency."
"He's clearly playing with them, though. The jounin in each group went down fast, but the ones he chose to live fought on for minutes at a time."
"Right. But why?"
Temari looked thoughtful. Even though she her long legs were wrapped around him, they'd lost some of their nervous tension. Glad I could help, he thought sardonically, and he lifted her right leg up over his head so he could lie down. Temari just let her leg drop unceremoniously onto his ribcage.
"Ow."
"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Of the kids he was chasing around, what do they have in common? Not gender, we have two boys and two girls in that category."
"Three boys," he corrected. "The first one, with the broken neck. Didn't use his sword."
"Point still stands. Alright. Two boys from Kumo, one girl from Oto, and one boy and a girl from Konoha. Jutsus, bloodlines?"
"One confirmed lightning user from Kumo, the girl from Oto didn't leave any traces of elemental manipulation -- probably more sound based tricks, but there's no telling what she could do with that either. Sound doesn't leave many traces."
"At least one fire user from Konoha, although we've already figured out that our culprit can use fire himself."
"That's pretty disparate," he said. The pattern wasn't coming to him...there was always a pattern, and this time it danced just out of reach. Was their killer that sick and unconventional that there was no rhyme or reason to it?
"Bloodlines in common? That'd be a stretch."
"Nah, not in three villages at once. Besides, how would he know who had what? Unless his information is better than ours."
Temari snorted, derisive.
"Unlikely. We have the collected intelligence of two nations at our disposal, he's one man. He couldn't possibly know even what elemental preferences these kids had."
"So we're back to square one. This is almost painful."
A breeze blew, and the clouds overhead drifted along with it. He stared up at them, wispy bundles of condensed chaos, and the problem before him was just as ineffable and vague. It bothered him, and if there was any one thing Shikamaru absolutely despised, it was being bothered.
"Ow. Ow, ow. Shit."
Temari pulled her legs in and retreated up the roof, hands over her face.
"What is it?"
"Got something in my eye," she said, and looked into her lap and started blinking in a pained rhythm. "It's all the bloody pollen in this country, at least sand leaves right away."
"Let me see," he said, and sat up slowly, climbing up the shingles after her.
"No, I've got it, ow."
"No you don't. Now let me see."
She closed her eye again, and reluctantly stretched out so that he could settle in next to her. His palms found her cheeks, and he let his thumb drift up to her right eye and gently pull the eyelid down. He saw the rogue eyelash.
"Blink, then look up and left."
"Don't you dare touch my eye, Nara, don't you fucking..."
"Relax," he said, and licked his other index finger and reached in. "Got it."
Her eye was still tearing up a little, so he let her close it again and rubbed gently against the closed eyelid. Her face was warm in his hands, and he realized she was leaning her head into his palm if only ever so slightly.
"Is it red?" she said, and she slowly looked out again.
"Not really," he lied, and let himself linger in the hazel pools of her irises. There was something familiar about this, something about the way his hand rested on her cheek, his thumb drifting back and forth across her cheekbone.
And then it hit him.
"The bruise," he said, and Temari blinked, confused.
"What?"
"The bruise. The first kid, with the broken neck. His attacker was holding him kind of like this...to look," he remembered the placement of the thumb and shifted his own, pulling down at her eyelid, and her reflex fought him this time.
"To look at his eye," she said, as her mind caught up.
"He's looking for eyes. But then why kill some of them right away?"
Temari looked up at him, comprehension dawning and she shone with understanding.
"They're all dark haired. All the genin he killed right away were light-haired. Blondes, reds, light browns."
"Except the girl from Oto," he said, but she seemed to be on the right track.
"You didn't see her roots? They were black, or dark brown, at least."
"Dark haired, and...dark eyed. The one with the broken neck had green eyes, so he didn't bother. And the girl on Itoh's team had blue, and she died faster than the other one with dark hair."
"Progress! So why?"
He sat down again, bracing his fingers against each other and staring back out at the plain. Interested only in dark haired, dark eyed genin. And only about this age, or else he would have struck at a previous exam. Killed regardless of nationality, so he couldn't possibly know which exact one he was targeting.
"He's looking for someone. One specific genin. He doesn't know which country they're from, though, so he's hitting all the teams coming back in this direction."
"That sounds like a terrible plan. Wouldn't there be a better way?"
"Do you really think someone could sneak into your village with Gaara there?"
Temari shook her head. No, not when the sand itself was watching, so their quarry had no foreknowledge.
"So why toy with them?" she said, "Why drag out the kill over several minutes...unless he's not planning to kill whoever he's looking for. He needs them alive for some reason."
"He's testing them," Shikamaru said, and Temari pointed at him in recognition. "He wants to see what they can do, and he kills the ones that don't pass to cover his tracks."
"We're still left with the problem of why he's only picking out the dark-haired, dark-eyed ones."
The pieces locked in his mind, drawn to each other by gossamer strands of spider silk that coiled and snapped into iron joints and slammed the components together in a shuddering cascade of conclusions.
"Oh, shit," he said, and leapt from the roof to find the radio, leaving Temari behind to puzzle out the rest herself.
OoOoOoO
Akamaru was not doing all that well, Kiba thought, hating to admit it.
The desert just wasn't a good place for an animal as big or as furred as his monster dog, and even though they'd set out as early as possible to avoid the heat for as long as possible, he hadn't expected having to take the long route around.
Panting hard, Akamaru made his way up the trail at his side, his great tongue a deep, almost purple red, sticky with fat, foamy ropes of thick saliva, and he'd stopped making those little complaining whines about an hour ago.
"Sorry, bud," he said, patting Akamaru on his shoulders, which were a little slick with perspiration that shouldn't have been there. "Ten minutes to the river, think you can make it?"
Three days near Sunagakure had left the big dog a little more tired and dehydrated than even Akamaru had expected, but he was putting on a good show and let out a quiet grunt of determination.
"I'm not sure I can, Kiba-sensei," Nanami said, and Kiba made a raspberry.
"Suck it up, princess. I don't see him complaining and he has to wear a fur coat all the time. Come on, it's just a little farther, and there's supposed to be a place we can stop for the night not too far from there."
"I thought we were going to the border today," Haruka said. She was breathing hard too, but they all were at that point.
Kiba shook his head.
"Nope. This detour's too long to make it in one leg, so we'll have to stop by the river."
They made it over the last rise and the glittering curve of the river was a beautiful thing to see. Akamaru found it within him just enough energy for a final sprint, and took a running leap into the middle of the stream. He landed with a splash and he ignored trying to use his swollen tongue in favor of just biting at the river below its surface. Kiba jumped in after him, not far behind Nanami, and the cold, fast moving water was a blessing as it washed away the heat.
Still dripping, he wandered back to shore where Kiyoka and Haruka were drinking from their canteens instead. When she was done, Kiyoka filled her bottle again only to dump it out on the sand, and Kiba wasn't surprised to see her colony swarm back from the thin cloud that she'd dispersed about her to drink. Unnerving as always, but he was used to it.
For her part, Haruka merely submerged her feet in the stream and retied her long black pony-tail behind her head before sitting on the jacket she'd wrapped around her waist after the sun had come up.
"Aren't you two jumping in?" he said, shaking out his hair and slumping down on the sand next to them. Nanami was still splashing around and had taken to trying to tip Akamaru over, no trivial pursuit.
"I thought you said we needed to be on guard," Haruka said, and Kiba was reminded again of the fairly terrible news he'd gotten from the Suna outpost.
"Yes, and I meant it. But if you're hot, go for it. Akamaru hasn't smelled anything yet, and unless I'm wrong her bugs give us pretty good warning anyway."
"I'm alright," Kiyoka said. "The kikaichu don't like having water in their nests anyway. Showers are fine, baths not so much."
Haruka shook her head.
"No, I'll be fine." She'd taken what looked like a squishier stress ball out of her pocket and began massaging it with her fingers. He'd seen her playing with it recently, and wondered what it was about.
"There's a town another two hours downstream, and we'll stop there for the night. We're further north than I'd like to be, but I think we were starting to need water pretty badly, especially Akamaru."
"Why are we taking this route, anyway?"
Kiba wasn't sure exactly what he could tell her. Haruka was good at picking out lies, and Kiyoka was even better. Nanami would buy anything but he hadn't had much success at getting anything past these two. He sighed.
"People died," he said. "We're trying to stay out of everyone's hair while they look into it."
That was pretty good, actually, he thought. No details, they'd find out about Itoh and his team when they got back, and he'd deal with that then. They seemed satisfied, at least. Behind him, Nanami had given up, and Akamaru was trotting back, clearly feeling much better.
Still, their detour wasn't as far out as he wanted them to be. They were too far north, and too close. Not only that, Itoh was supposed to be good, probably better than he even was, and if he'd been killed by the lunatic out here, Kiba wasn't too secure about his own chances.
He wasn't going to scare the girls, though, and he needed them healthy enough to cut and run if necessary, so he'd made the call and they'd gone to the river. They weren't going to linger, though.
"Alright, girls. Let's move -- we can buy some hot food and proper drinks by sundown. Hands up who's hungry."
"Because we're all still in a classroom," Haruka said, and he smiled; she had her sarcasm back, anyway, as she'd been more quiet than usual since failing the exam. Nanami was waving her hand with abandon, and Kiyoka tilted her hand up at the elbow before letting it drop again. Akamaru sat on his wet haunches and was throwing one of his big forepaws around in awkward circles.
"Then let's go. Same as before -- bugs out, eyes open."
They took off at a relatively even, easy pace, keeping close to the river but cutting past the bends where they could. Kiyoka and Akamaru took the lead, with Nanami tagging along closely. He noticed Haruka hanging back a little, which usually meant she wanted to talk but wasn't going to ask.
"So what's that thing you've been squeezing for the last three weeks?"
She glanced over momentarily, her eyes a pair of black flashes in the sun before she turned them back towards their destination.
"I'm supposed to be practicing chakra manipulation. Dad showed me something...but I haven't been able to do it yet." She sounded disappointed, but he had an inkling as to what it was she was trying to do.
"Neat. Well, you'll get it, you've already got excellent control."
She shook her head.
"Not as good as his. Or Hinata's, and she can't do it either. I'm not as good as they are."
"Hey, don't worry about it. It's a hard technique, most people can't do it. But if anyone can, you can. Keep at it."
They bounded through the brush in the peculiar, bounding gait of someone using chakra, and the grass rippled in their wake. Kiba sniffed, there was smoke on the wind coming from the west, but there wasn't any visible on the horizon. A small burn, but bigger than a campfire. Odd.
"You're just saying that to cheer me up," Haruka said, unconvinced.
"No, I'm not. You've got talent, kiddo. Your dad's proud of you, that much I can guarantee."
"Not as much as if I were his real daughter."
"Is that what you're worried about? I promise you it would be absolutely no different. He thinks you can do it, and I don't think you should second guess him on that. Ask him."
It wasn't like her to do this, he thought, usually so sure of herself, so prepared, and maybe even just a little bit arrogant. He supposed maybe the exam had shaken her more than she let on.
"I know, I just...I promised him we'd make chuunin, and he said I could. I didn't. A promise is a big thing for him."
"He'll understand. What's important to him...and what's important to me is that you have the will to do it, not that you do it all perfectly on the first try. Do you know how old your father was when he passed the exam?"
"Ten, I'll bet," she said, miserable.
"Ha! He didn't tell you?" Kiba chuckled. "He was seventeen. Me and everyone else in our class beat him by at least three years."
Haruka scowled.
"Liar. There's no way anyone as awesome as him took that long."
"Not kidding," he said, and turned into a clumsy sideways gallop to fold a hand over his heart where she could see it. "I swear."
"I'm asking him when I get home," she said, "and if you're lying I'll figure this rasengan thing out just so I can hit you with it."
"That's the spirit," he said, laughing.
Haruka fell silent.
"Oh, come on. I'm not making fun of you," he said, remonstrative. She didn't say anything. "Even though I do sometimes, I mean it this time. You'll figure it out, and there's absolutely no way you could possibly disappoint Naruto. Besides run away from the village and become a..."
Something was wrong, he realized, and stopped, digging his heels in the sand. The smells weren't matching up. Haruka wasn't really sprinting up ahead of him, her scent was right in front of him, and Kiyoka and Nanami were catching up to him, not ahead of the group like they should have been.
"Kai!" he shouted, trying to focus his chakra and purge the illlusion. The world around him shuddered and for a fraction of a second he could hear the girls screaming at him.
He tried again, with no more success. It was powerful, too, and genjutsu wasn't his strong point. He took a breath. This was bad, really bad. He reached deep, down into the soul of his being, to the reserve of strength and identity at his core and...
...found himself staring out through the disjointed perspective of the infernal two-headed dire wolf he and Akamaru sometimes became. Thank the gods Akamaru had the presence of mind and initiative that he did.
He was disoriented for a moment, something that was made so much worse when Akamaru took charge and launched them howling at a dark, humanoid shape that had managed to come up behind them while he'd been blithely carrying on.
They spun through a supercharged gatsuuga, missed, and curved around to land where they'd started from. The part of Akamaru's mind resident in their shared beast agreed he was okay to take his own form back, and the jutsu dissolved, splitting them back apart.
"Fool me once," he said, grunting as he stood up. Someone dressed in black was walking towards them with all the quiet assurance of the grim reaper, sword drawn and glinting with the red of the falling sun.
The girls smelled like relief and growing confidence, and as he shifted more chakra to his senses he could hear the chattering of a thousand chitinous legs amid the crackle of the fireball Haruka blasted out towards their attacker.
And under that, under the ashy aftermath, he could smell their opponent. He committed it to memory, the unique gestalt of pheromones and flavors that made up a person.
Strange, he'd met this person before.
A breeze caught the smoke, and blew what was left of the fireball away, towards the forest on the high ridge of the horizon...and the man remained, unharmed, untouched, and unfazed.
His stomach turned, and Akamaru was growling, low and dangerous, running on instinct. Kiba's own instinct went into profound overdrive and he knew he was in trouble.
"Girls...run. Run now. I'll follow when I can."
"What?" Confusion and disbelief tinged Nanami's voice, and even ever-obedient Kiyoka was looking at him as though he'd turned into a mushroom.
"We don't split up the team," Haruka said. "That's what you said."
"Run!" he shouted, "Right fucking now!"
They didn't hesitate much longer, but he had no illusions about their loyalty -- they wouldn't go nearly far enough.
"It's been a long, long time, Uchiha," he said, and the weight of the kunai in his hand was nowhere near as comforting as it should have been.
Sasuke didn't say anything, merely adjusted the angle of his weapon.
"So you're the one killing off mere genin? Seems like it's a little beneath you."
No response.
"Care to tell me wh..."
The rush was sudden, far too fast for him to dodge completely. Kiba was proud of what speed he had, and his ability to leverage that with the power to severely hurt an opponent before they could do much about it. It was above average -- but nothing like this.
He barely parried, and the force behind the blow was nearly enough to make him lose his grip on the blade.
Akamaru took the opportunity to make a low lunge at Sasuke's feet, his teeth snapping in thin air as he missed time and again. Sasuke danced back, tossing aside Kiba's latest attack with contempt, and he fought to keep his balance. As he spun, Kiba was certain he spotted the crimson fire of the great, bloody sharingan in Sasuke's eyes.
Yep, I'm in deep trouble, he thought, as he rolled away from the flurry of burning embers that rained down around him.
He wasn't fast enough to outpace Sasuke, and that god damned eye jutsu of his was just going to let him spot attacks before they happened. He didn't have too many options.
Akamaru picked up the idea before he'd even completed it, and loped around to run with him in parallel as they shot back towards Sasuke. His hands flashed through seals, and even knowing as he did that the sharingan would let Sasuke know exactly what he was doing, he hoped it wouldn't tell him why.
He finished the jutsu, sent the chakra roaring to his left foot, and let it burrow into the ground and he finished his step just as Sasuke was in mid-jump. He'd timed it well, and a ring of clay slabs shot up out of the ruined ground in a circle around Sasuke as he landed. Akamaru was already in attack mode the instant the walls went up and he shot up in a fanged whirlwind to slam down into the trap from above.
Kiba wasted no time, and his own gatsuuga was already in motion before Akamaru struck. Akamaru closed off any upward escape, and he slammed through the earthen prison a fraction of a second later, tracking his target by scent alone. His claws made contact with something, shredding it and ruining it beyond recognition, but he didn't feel any victory as he landed.
No, he thought as he touched down. Definitely a clone.
Ozone burned his nostrils, and he threw up a much weaker wall between himself and Sasuke where he reappeared. A fist full of lightning flashed through it as though it weren't there and buried itself in his chest -- he'd just had enough time to lay down a kawarimi, putting himself back between his team and Sasuke.
The Uchiha wasn't even breathing hard, and his own heart was racing at full speed already. This was going terribly, Kiba thought, as a buzzing filled the air and a veritable horde of beetles took off out of the grass around Sasuke. He glanced around, took a breath, and then torched all the grass in a ten meter circle around him.
Kiba heard Kiyoka scream in the distance as a significant chunk of her colony died. Oh gods, girls, he prayed, run...I don't think I'm going to win this one. Akamaru circled around back to his side, spitting and snarling.
Sasuke blinked once, very deliberately, and Kiba's gut instinct, the force of nature buried deep within the most primitive parts of his brain, the early warning system with which all animals were blessed -- it shrieked with fury and fear.
His hands moved through seals faster than he knew was possible and he threw them to the ground with the force of his entire body. The Gates of Rashomon erupted from the dirt, summoned from the pits of hell by a full third of his remaining chakra.
Watching from his knees, Kiba was filled with a sick fascination and awe as the supposedly invincible gates burned with an intense, smokeless flame the colour of pitch.
"Knew that'd come in handy one day," he said, and he wasn't entirely sure he believed it.
OoOoOoO
Hinata left her father's room with the same sinking sensation as always. Still no improvement, and at this point the physicians said that the only thing keeping him alive was his own stubborn will. The most that could be done was to ensure that he was comfortable and doped beyond pain in his waning days.
And still, she could not bear the thought of him passing. Even though she'd already inherited most, if not all, of his extant duties, the thought of trying to guide the entire clan was daunting, even without the omnipresent meddling of the other family heads.
There was no turning back, though. She'd told him, on his deathbed no less, that she was capable, and she would. For her own sake, and those of the family that had been marginalized, like Neji. And as Hanabi would be, if she didn't fix things.
She remembered what Naruto had said, the last time she'd expressed those worries to him.
"Always better to be underestimated," he'd said, grinning that vulpine grin of his, full of the unconventional cunning that typified him. "They remember who you were, Hinata, and they think that's who you are. Just because they haven't changed in years doesn't mean you haven't. Knock 'em dead."
It was true, even if she didn't feel it all the time.
No, they'd learn she wasn't to be trifled with, and damn their forgone conclusions.
Hanabi followed her out not long after, and she looked no happier.
"Hinata," she said, her voice low and somber, "I still can't imagine how it will be when he goes."
"Neither can I."
They left for the garden, trading the stark contrasts of stained wood and luminescent paper for colors of summer, green with the vitality of life in its prime. There was cheer here, hiding in the small, pristine blooms that lined the paths and the pond, but it was carefully groomed and trimmed within the bounds of a restrictive aesthetic.
"I ran into Elder Hisoka today," Hanabi said. "I was due to meet my team for training, so we didn't talk long. He wanted to know how father was."
"You know he's just trying to figure out how long until he dies. So long as he lives they won't dare to act on any of the plans they've made."
"Oh, I know," her sister said. "I told him father was feeling much better and talking more often. The look on his face was priceless."
Hinata wanted to smile, but the thought of all the vultures circling around the compound wasn't helping. And despite her own plans and desires, they had one perfectly valid point: her family was long, long overdue for heirs, children to carry on the name. More importantly, children to keep the other families' ambitions in check when she and Hanabi were gone.
She already had a daughter in Haruka, even if it wasn't any kind of official link by any stretch of the imagination. Worse, Haruka referred to her as just Hinata, her dad's secret girlfriend, but she couldn't blame her. She'd only been able to sneak out for a few nights a week here and there, and hadn't been present for most of the landmark events that defined a childhood.
But Haruka wasn't a Hyuuga and would never be heir, so it was a moot point anyway.
"Something else is bothering me," Hanabi said, as they stopped at the edge of the pond. Fish surfaced and gaped, anticipating a feeding. "I know you're trying to get the seal changed, but I'm still not sure how you're going to do that. All the main families need to agree to it, don't they? Even the Hokage hasn't got any power to change our rules."
"No, the Hokage can't affect any of the clan's internal affairs. That law was set down at the founding of the village, or else I'm certain Sakura and Neji would have had children by now."
"Well, yes. But what would marrying the next Hokage do? I mean, assuming you even get the man you want, otherwise we're back in the same hole we started in."
"It's stupid and I hate it, Hanabi...but it's power over the entire village. The other families have a lot of vested interest in positions and laws they can use to protect their assets and whatever political pull they have."
"So you're hoping your husband will, what? Threaten to change those things to bring them on our side?"
"Sort of. It's not going to be pretty or easy."
Hinata sighed. There was going to be a lot of overt infighting in the days ahead, but it had to happen. And still, the most she could do at the moment was hope Sakura had been right about Lady Tsunade's decision...and hope Naruto learned to get past the block that was holding him back. She knew it had to be the Uchiha that plagued him, because what else could it be?
Naruto was notorious now, storied and famed, fast, powerful, and clearly skilled enough to play the role. He'd learned much of diplomacy, and Tsunade had been sending him alone to deal with the disputes that inevitably cropped up with their neighbors. And he was honest, and kind, and earnest in a way most people weren't, which was why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place.
Even so, at the moment the best she could do was wait for him to come home, and do her best to talk him through it. She hoped it would take less than the year she had.
"I think..," Hanabi said, but she was cut off by the small, amorphous creature that phased into existence on a stone lantern next to her.
The slug extended myopic eyestalks in Hanabi's direction, and then in Hinata's and back again. It decided Hanabi wasn't the one it wanted to talk to, and slithered in a half circle to face her straight on.
"Ahem, Hyuuga Hinata?"
"Yes?"
"Lady Tsunade needs to see you right away. She says there's an urgent assignment you need to attend to."
"I'll be there soon then. Thank you," she said, and bowed to the gastropod. It reared up and tipped its head, and then vanished again.
"That never stops being hilarious," Hanabi said. "Are you sure you should take this one? I mean, with father..."
Hinata nodded, and started walking towards her own quarters. She had to change and grab her gear still before she could report in, and if it was urgent, she wouldn't have much time.
"We are first of Konoha, aren't we?"
"I could go instead. I mean, if anything happens to you..."
Hinata stopped, and gave Hanabi a sweet and somewhat conspiratorial smile.
"In that case, the elders would look awfully silly if they sealed you. I'll stop taking missions the day he dies, Hanabi. No sooner."
"Take care, then," Hanabi said, and hugged her. "I'll talk to you when you get back."
She arrived at the Hokage's tower as quickly as she could, and was still fastening her pouch of medical gear around her waist as she made her way up the stairs two at a time. The guards outside Tsunade's office waved her in, and she nearly ran into Sakura as she went through the doors.
"There you are," Sakura said, "I was just going to go see if you'd arrived yet."
She apologized for the delay, which Tsunade pardoned with an inconsequential wave.
"The important thing is you're here," the Hokage said, pulling a pair of scrolls off the top of her desk. "You probably both know by now I assigned Neji and Shino on a mission this morning. The situation has complicated itself somewhat, and I'm sending the two of you to assist. Hinata, I realize your clan is not exactly stable at the moment and you are the heir..."
"No. Hanabi will be able to take care of things in my absence."
"Good, because I don't have any more combat medics at your level that I can spare. Simply put, I expect them to run into trouble."
Tsunade turned her eyes to Sakura, and her eyes were hard with the decision she'd made.
"I normally make it a point to keep couples separated on missions, but like I said, the two of you are the best I have available right now, and this is going to be nasty. I'm hoping you can handle working alongside Neji and still stay objective, Sakura."
Sakura shivered almost imperceptibly, but nodded anyway.
"It gets worse, in that regard, but we'll get to that in a moment. As you're no doubt aware, Sunagakure has been holding the chuunin exams this year. This morning, we received word that some of the teams returning home had gone missing. They were discovered dead about half-way between our borders, including Team Six under Itoh Mamoru. No survivors were reported."
Hinata felt a glare forming, and did nothing to stop it. Haruka was out there...Kiba was out there...and now Neji and Shino too. So many people she knew and loved were out in that wilderness, under threat, and there had already been casualties. She hazarded a glance at Sakura, and her normally gentle, loving eyes had become hard chits of metamorphic rock. Sakura made a fist, and the sound of her knuckles popping in her glove was the only sound in the room.
"Fifteen minutes ago, Shikamaru radioed in an update from the border post -- you know him, he's been going over the evidence since this morning. He says he is reasonably certain that our roving murderer is Uchiha Sasuke."
"What?"
Disbelief and shock coloured Sakura's voice, which died mid-word, and the hard determination she'd been building broke in a second. Hinata found herself taken aback, but...it had to be done. Tsunade gave them a look forged from steel.
"He didn't give me too many specifics, but I've never known Shikamaru to be wrong. You can ask him for the details when you get there. There's been no contact with the murderer, and no one who has engaged him has survived to tell us, so far as I know. For now, I have to assume that's who it is, which is why I have to send the best I have. That's you."
Sakura put her hands to her temples, and closed her eyes.
"I can't believe that he'd...even..."
"If you can't do it, Sakura, now is the time to tell me."
Hinata found her voice, small though it was.
"Sakura, I can..," she started, but Sakura cut her off.
"No. Neji's out there, and he's coming back with me." She breathed, and her eyes hardened again as she turned to show Hinata she was ready. "After all, we both know your cousin's going to do something dumb and get himself hurt, don't we?"
"Alright then," Tsunade said, and tossed them the two scrolls on the desk. "Take these, study them whenever you have a chance, show them to the team already in the field. Assuming it is Sasuke, we have to be ready for the worst and assume he's learned to use the mangekyou sharingan."
Just the word filled Hinata with apprehension and no small amount of dread. She'd seen the kind of devastation an Uchiha in full form could inflict, and there was an indiscriminate cruelty to the battlefield they'd found Naruto on when he'd ended the last of the Akatsuki.
"The Uchihas were just as secretive about their jutsu as your clan is, Hinata, so our information is incomplete, but that's everything we know. There are, we think, three major abilities associated with the mangekyou. One is an instant fire attack, black in colour, and very nearly unavoidable. One is an extremely powerful genjutsu, and we've seen evidence that it can completely neutralize even powerful ninja in an instant. We have no idea what the third is, only that it exists. It's likely that it may be related or even identical to the technique that Kakashi devised, but there's no guarantee of that; his sharingan is atypical.
"Looking into a sharingan user's eyes is not recommended. Any more questions?"
"No," Hinata said. Sakura echoed her.
"Then go. This ends, one way or another. They're counting on you."
...and so is Naruto, a small voice said in the back of her mind, even if he doesn't know it.