Chapter 4 — Commence
Team 3 was a standing enigma; it had been since they graduated despite each of their failures. They were a motley crew—not only a rare case of having only one male, but their dynamic worked even better for it. Yoh was the bottom of his class, and Hakumei was the top; however, Hakumei's battle prowess was nearly nonexistent, made up for with Yoh's extremely good natural sense for it.
Despite her failure at weaponry, Fuhennori almost gave off the impression of a guardian or goddess, the way she could simply oversee a battle and ensure victory. Her tactics weren't necessarily amazing, but whether it was a trick or a charm or a jinx (no one was really sure), she had a way of winning simply by being there.
It was the mystery of this team's prowess that dumbfounded the other teachers; first when Anko refused to submit them to the exam for so long, and then when she finally did submit them without warning. Most teams would wait maybe only one or two exam periods before submitting their genin for a first try. Mitarashi Anko's Cell 3, however…waited five full exam periods before even attempting. Normally, one would assume something was wrong. Instead, the Godaime and all her closest circle had only one thing to say: "It's about damn time."
From the Hokage Tower, the challengers' teachers watched out the window and waited for the results of their efforts. In that room, few teachers could show absolute confidence in their charges' abilities; but one Mitarashi Anko was sprawled over an upholstered red couch with a cup of tea and a plate of dango and nearly falling asleep. Those present were nearly green with envy.
"Anko-san, are you really so sure of your team this year?" Izumo ventured, almost grimacing at the way his heartbeat was so fast and uneven. He hadn't been this nervous even in his own exam. Anko let a smug, catlike grin slit her face.
"Even I don't know if this was too smart."
There seemed to be a collective stopping of breath. "The hell?! You recommended them without being sure if they were ready?"
She barked an echoing laugh, eyes almost venomous as she met him head-on with her most honest opinion.
"Oh, they're ready. It's the other students I'm worried about."
The First Exam was a test of mental strength, reading beneath the underneath, and espionage skills that every single one of these rookies would need to become Chuunin ranked shinobi. The weakest would only take ten minutes to crack. The best would move on to the next test, where book knowledge couldn't save them. Teams would find themselves at each other's throats afterwards, their cooperation shot to hell because of pride and incompetence and distrust. The upheaval in switching cells afterwards was enormous, people convinced that they had only failed because of others.
In the exam room, however, the only sounds were the scraping of pencils, desperately racing against the single ticking clock on the back wall. The proctor observed his roomful of less-than-hopefuls with a wicked eye, enjoying the looks of frustration, consternation, and bewilderment that painted their faces. True to the average, eleven minutes in saw the first disqualification. Shifting eyes, quirky hands, moving mirrors, odd rodents and once an escaped varmint of some sort—all were indicators of cheating, so obvious that there wasn't anything to do but disqualify them. They left grumbling, crying, lamenting, angry and sore with bruised egos, much to their observers' amusement.
There were three curious children here that were creating a bit of interest for their intent observers, though. They were intent upon their papers, eyes unwavering and pencils moving as surely as the Chuunin infiltrators.
Still, there was nothing to pin on them. There wasn't any proof at all.
Anko's bloody smile sent a thrill down the spines of the teachers, the corners of her lips taking on an ironic twist as she slanted her gaze toward the window behind her. "The other genin could be in danger right now. I thought everything would be okay, but something on their escort mission put Fuhennori in a bad mood. She looks like normal, but her eyes are clearing."
The brash woman could feel goose bumps crawling up her arms and shoulders despite her heavy jacket and the magnified direct sunlight pouring through the glass. The nervous fiddling with the dango stick in her hand wasn't just idle movement, but the itch that came with battle preparation. Across from her, Kurenai leaned forward with a wary glint in her eye.
"What do you mean by 'her eyes are clearing,' Anko-senpai?" she asked quietly, a rough edge on her voice as she worded her question with care. This woman was normally quite happily ignorant of the moods and feelings of others. If she was taking note of something about her student, a few felt they should have run for cover long before this stage.
True to their expectations, she turned a venomous taupe gaze on them with a fierce bite to her words. "When that kid's eyes clear up, blood starts coming down like rain. It ought to be okay for the first exam; it's mental stress at the worst, so without a physical threat we don't have to worry. Starting with the second exam…we might need to dig some graves."
Fu kept a straight face with the best of them, even if she was dying to grin like a maniac. The Chuunin two rows up and five people to her left had no idea that he was host to a darling little jutsu of hers. At best, he might be grumbling in the back of his mind about something biting him on the ankle. That something and its two delicate fangs were nowhere to be seen, and without a doubt he had no idea why.
It was a simple jutsu really, though she supposed it qualified as a bloodline limit of sorts. The proctors hadn't even noticed when she 'accidentally' cut herself on the dangling miniature kunai on her earring, the barely-noticeable sliver of blood running down the side of her neck, under the edge of her kimono, forming itself into a snake no bigger around than her pencil and little longer than her pinky finger. It took no effort at all to send it to the equally ignorant Chuunin, where it bit him and quickly entered his bloodstream through the punctures, speeding through his vessels to the brain, and then the optic nerves. It showed her everything she needed to see, a cloudy sort of overlay of her own vision that she followed to write down the correct answers. It was equally simple for her to send Hakumei and Yoh the same information with the same method; tiny, imperceptible serpents awakened from sleeping in their bodies by a command from their master.
Some exam.
They finished with ease; she observed Hakumei and Yoh's papers, approving silently as they improvised words and phrasing so that their papers wouldn't be exactly the same. Hakumei gave more detailed and complicated reasons, and Yoh made it look as half-assed as he normally wrote without actually being wrong. With twenty minutes left of their hour, it was time to sit, be bored, and enjoy the tension floating in the room—along with the still-numerous calls of disqualification. Yoh crossed his legs and started meditating; Hakumei dazed off and chewed at the end of her pencil, no doubt wishing for some scrap paper to put down random notes. There was a second, blank page to the exam, but it was apparently for the 10th question. The number was typed simply at the beginning of the page, and the rest was left completely white. Fuhennori tapped the bottom corner thoughtfully with an unpolished nail.
She would've thought more on it—probably should've thought more on it before then—but the proctor finally cleared his throat and declared the first portion of the exam over. With a sadistic smile, he said, "You have the last ten minutes to answer this question, if you decide to take the chance."
Despite the highly diminished numbers, she could feel the whole body of examinees still at the subtle implication. Yes, this was what she'd been looking for. The trick was about to reveal itself.
Ah, it's so hard not to smile right now.
"One out of three of these exam sheets for question ten are disguised exploding tags. The minute you start to write will be your last before you're up in smoke," he stated, making a poof sort of motion with his fingers for added (and unnecessary) emphasis. "If you decide to risk the tags, two out of three of the team must still get the answer right for you to pass. If you cannot answer it, your life as a shinobi is over and you will be barred from practice. Back to civilian life with the rest of the cattle."
The terrific shock that went through the crowd was impressive, but there were several of the groups that got a rather bullheaded look on their faces. They were willing to battle it out. Fuhennori weighed the proctor's words for a moment as she observed their surroundings. A few groups left. The oldest groups and the youngest remained, some too stupid to know better, others too old, jaded or otherwise to care. What did she think?
One out of three pages would have a tag; that could mean all or none of them just as easily. Answers were no issue; the chuunin she'd been sponging off of was still sitting there, acting as if he were scared as the rest. They couldn't possibly catch her with her method of information gathering.
The answer was to stay or go, she was sure, but the heavy penalty for attempting to make it through stuck out in her mind. It was odd; it was overdone. Unless it was a question that went to the very core of a shinobi's existence, it wouldn't warrant barring them from the profession.
The exam is a game of cat and mouse. A mental trip.
Hakumei and Yoh were turned in their seats, waiting for her signal. Her decision was all they wanted; she was the leader, and they would follow her like any other mission. It brought a slightly bitter smile to her face in appreciation as she stood.
"Sorry examiner, I'm afraid I can't bet on those odds."
She didn't have to say anything else. There were other reasons for her answer to this "question," but there wasn't any way to properly explain it. Hakumei and Yoh met her in the aisle between the desks and followed her out the doors at the back of the classroom. Fuhennori collected herself for a minute, took a breath, gave a sharp nod, and headed for the stairs.
"Sorry guys, looks like we'll have to wait until next year."
"You passed."
Anko stuffed a heap of ramen in her mouth, ignoring the blank looks of her students as they registered her statement.
"Come again?"
"You passed. As in, next round starts tomorrow, pack your bags, it's gonna be one helluva ride." She slurped down a spoon of soup stock, ate a piece of pork, continued to devour her noodles with no more and no less gusto than usual. Their sensei was acting as if she had expected exactly this.
She probably had, come to think of it.
"Well alright then."
The group took seats at the counter, nearly filling the small booth completely. Hakumei looked like some invisible weight had just fallen off her shoulders; she leaned heavily against Yoh's shoulder, looking dazed and distant. It obviously hadn't sunk in for him yet; the young man seemed to still be processing when he automatically ordered two bowls of miso ramen for himself and Hakumei, Fuhennori well enough known that she would have chicken ramen and nothing but.
"So this works how?" she asked casually, slumping against the counter and returning her focus to the woman at her side. Anko cocked a brow in her direction. "We walked out and passed. If I knew that playing hooky would get me a passing grade, I would've done it a lot sooner."
"Walking away was the answer. If it cannot be attained without the cost of manpower, wait until a more opportune time or better resources make themselves available. Of course, you knew that right? Konoha doesn't walk over the lives of its people."
"I see."
The meal ended peaceably enough, and Fuhennori couldn't help the giddy feeling in her chest as Yoh started getting excited, the news finally soaking in. Hakumei was nearly as high-strung as he was, judging by her grin that stretched from one ear to the other. There was a little skip in her step and she would occasionally jog after Yoh as he turned flips and somersaults in the street. The whoop that he eventually let out probably woke everyone in a three-block radius; but tempted to join him as she was, Fuhennori couldn't bring herself to scold him.
"Guys, guys, c'mon. Over here a sec," she called breathlessly, motioning them over. Her breath was caught up in trying not to giggle, but as her teammates—her shinobi equivalent of family—came closer, she wrapped her arms around their shoulders. Drawing their heads together, they caught their breaths in silence. Fu closed her eyes, and gathered her thoughts.
"Tomorrow is the second phase."
Yoh and Hakumei nodded, listening.
"Don't give an inch. Don't rush. Team 3 is the Trinity, and we always move as one."
She could feel Yoh squeeze her waist a little, and Hakumei pressed their temples together. This was their motto—their safeguard, their most heartfelt of beliefs. Apart they were weak, but together they would always be invincible, the three parts of a god who only bore one name.
There, in the middle of the street, on those few simple sentences, they each swore in their minds that their team would see victory.
Not at the cost of each other, but because of them.
The thin morning light was just illuminating the fog when they arrived, and for a moment they paused just to look at the looming, oversized forest of the 44th training grounds. The sounds of birds were beginning where the growls of predators dissipated, day dawning and chasing away a few of the forest's oversized problems for a short while.
"You won't mind if I have a few jitters, right?" Yoh muttered, looking as if jitters were the furthest things from his mind. Hakumei bit her lip.
"Only if you ignore mine."
Gripping their hands tightly for a split second before letting go and moving toward the front of the growing cluster of people, Fuhennori focused on the proctor flanked by ANBU agents, a curiously red-eyed woman. Their eyes met by…not accident, she realized, but on purpose…and for a split second she felt the examiner was wary of her before moving determinedly on.
"Team leaders, you will receive a scroll—it will either be the Scroll of Heaven or the Scroll of Earth, and you are not, under any circumstances, to open these scrolls. Your objective is to hunt another team, steal the opposite scroll and report with the completed set to the tower at the center of the training grounds. Choose your formations and who is to carry the scroll carefully. That is all. Check in with the other examiners and receive your scroll and gate number."
Hunting. Fuhennori thought that word alone was enough to scare some of the baby-faced genin around her, and even a few of the obvious repeaters. She could see everyone getting a case of the jitters, hands shaking and eyes darting as they started to observe what was very obviously their competition as if the thought had never previously occurred to them.
It was obvious though; how could they choose people or graduate anyone if the examinees couldn't take a little fighting and bloodshed? She observed them quietly, looking for quirks and tells that would help her should one of the surrounding greenhorns decide that her team was their target. It would never do for them to be "the hunted"…their teacher would never allow such a thing.
No. It didn't matter the circumstances—they would always be the predators.
The proctor for this second exam cast an eye around, her gaze leveling on Fuhennori for a split second again before she moved on to observe as the teams scattered to their gates. A countdown began on screens above the locked entrances, and taking a glance at their number, the blonde quickly motioned for her teammates to follow as they went to their gate. There were five minutes to prepare for their start, and it wouldn't do to be late.
There were fewer teams competing this year, it seemed; Yoh made the quiet comment after glancing to the only two gates within viewing distance of theirs, and noted they were empty. Hakumei decided they were fortunate for that.
The countdown saw them completely silent, crouched and ready with anticipation.
Tick...tick...tick…
Four more seconds…
Three…
Two…
One…
Go.
Temari reviewed the graves, Kiba and Naruto nearby with a few select Suna ANBU. This was crime scene analysis here, something that they hadn't had time for with the initial rush for a report and an autopsy. The kunoichi was thankful that the Inuzuka and his pup were no strangers to preserving evidence; there were few paw prints to work around, and the inside of the graves were virtually untouched.
It was easy to see, from position and structure, that Sakura's guess was right; they were attacked from beneath, pulled in to hollow graves and paralyzed to prevent them from digging out. So close to the surface, and yet too far away from salvation. She cursed under her breath lightly, wishing caution and protocol hadn't cost them their lives. That 'Fuhennori' that her brother was so interested in was only a genin, and they would've been beyond pissed if she'd set foot on a crime scene without someone of a higher authority with her. That's why she didn't. She knew it.
But if she had, there might've been six less dead and a lot more information.
Using chakra to both protect the walls from her descent as well as latch on to the dirt, Temari worked her way down into this pit much as she had the first two she investigated, scanning the walls critically for anything that might give her a clue. Dirt, rocks, the occasional buried leaf, a couple of worms… Ew, maggots.
Speaking of maggots...her eyes narrowed on the wall. The etching there was a little too orderly to be accident. She pulled a senbon from her belt and flicked away the maggots with muted disgust, peering beyond the ick to the light little scratches she could barely make out with the little sunlight that reached there. Transferring the chakra from her fingers to her knees, she reached back to her pack and pulled out a notepad and pencil, quickly skritching the symbol, best she could make it out, onto the page. A second and a grimace later, she was outside the vacated tomb and next to Naruto with the page right in front of his eyes.
"Tell me this doesn't look like trouble."
He looked at it, and wrinkles started appearing between his brows.
"Nope. Trouble's written all over it."
"That's what I thought. It's an uchiwa I'm looking at, isn't it?" she asked, lightly tracing the outline with her pencil. He scratched at his messy hair, heaving a sigh.
"I can't make it anything else. I'm a little clueless on the extra couple of lines, but that looks like an uchiwa no matter how you slice it. And the only reason that would be here…"
"Is because it's…the Uchiha family crest."
"...Yeah. Unfortunately."
Little else was uncovered in their search, but when they finally packed up and headed for Suna they couldn't stand to sit still. Breaks seemed overrated. Running, refueling while running, drinking while running…just to get back a little sooner. Gaara would need to be informed…and Sakura would probably be able to understand what was going on better. She would be able to understand what was going on, if anyone could. That's what Naruto believed, and Temari was inclined to agree. The medic had an affinity for understanding what that Uchiha wanted to do. Maybe it was a measure of leftover familiarity...but whatever the case, she would use it.
They would all take advantage of it, if it would save lives.
After continuing through the night, they arrived at the looming walls of Sunagakure just before midmorning, and with a wearily determined stride their band of seven went straight to Gaara's office. Sakura and Kankuro were already there and waiting. It was an ugly but not unexpected report to give, and Sakura's face looked just as weary and chagrined as Naruto's.
"He's just bound and determined to give us problems, isn't he," she muttered ruefully. Sakura looked down at the phial in her hand. It glinted up at her with something only slightly yellowed, a liquid that looked a little ill when you left it in a shadow; this was the ever-so-simple, completely untraceable paralysis drug responsible for so much misery in this case.
If it were even the slightest bit unique, she would have been able to trace it to a geographic location, no matter how wide or unspecific. With what they had…there was no way to tell whether this old flame of hers was in Suna, or Konoha, or where he intended to strike…
With a frustrated scream, she shattered the bottle against the wall; glass cut her hand, poison seeping in to immobilize her fingers, arm, and quickly her elbow and shoulder. Kankuro pulled her back, arms braced around her shoulders tightly in an effort to calm her. Akamaru whimpered in the background, huddling behind his master.
There was nothing to go on! Nothing at all! They couldn't even plan a proper defense without some sort of evidence, some indication of where he would strike. What was the point in having a lab if not even simple problems like this could be solved? It didn't do her a bit of good. No amount of analysis could tell her what they would target! Assume Konoha? What if she were wrong? What if it was Suna they were after? They had attacked Suna ANBU, even if it was on Konoha territory.
Gaara said he'd been worried about the antsy movements of Sound's shinobi, and sent some ANBU to the border between the Fire and Sound to keep an eye out for his allies. He had told them to report to the Hokage afterwards, and thus hadn't suspected anything when they did not...return...quickly...
Sakura stiffened. Was that…?
"They met resistance…"
It was a flash of realization that took only a split second to sink in, and she forced out the sentence with great effort around the paralysis creeping up to her jaws. Damn, that was a stupid move, she griped, moving her chakra to break it down as quickly as she could manage. Gaara's eyes sharpened on her, catching on to what she was saying.
"Sound washh…was…aihming...for Konoha! Got to gho...now!"
Slurs aside, her meaning was unmistakeable. Gaara had his ANBU out the door before she even finished breaking the poison down. Kankuro hauled himself to a chair and pulled her into his lap, listening intently for her reasoning. Five minutes, ten minutes passed; Sakura's frustration with herself turned to anger, and she ground her teeth for those ten minutes it took to get her mouth in working order.
"If they were coming through the northern border, then they were only a day's journey from Konoha. Originally, Suna ANBU shouldn't be there, but since you were keeping an eye on some intel we didn't have yet you had your men in the line of fire. Sound didn't expect them to be there. They're already making a move, and we're a half-dozen steps behind the game already!"
Naruto was out the door in a second, headed for their rooms. Sakura closed her eyes in frustration, still too numb to move properly. Damn my temper, and everything that goes with it. This wasn't the time to be pulling stupid stunts like this, and here she was. Kankuro wrapped her up in his arms and stood to carry her down the hall, leaving his brother to deal with the impending mountain of red tape.
"You're spoiling me."
"I'm paying you back. I owe you a lot."
"...you're still spoiling me."
"It's your imagination," he quipped, lips quirking up just a little. It was his final word on the subject as he toted her to the room her things occupied. He set her on the bed, and proceeded to gather her things and arrange them in her pack. Her toothbrush in the bathroom, the scrolls scattered on the little desk, the scrunchie from her side table; he didn't even miss the brace of kunai in the dresser or the sheet of note paper she'd forgotten by the phone. From her lab safety shoes to her travel sandals, from the borrowed white coat to her jounin vest, Kankuro readied her for the trip as if it were expected of him.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to." She must've looked perplexed, because he smirked. "What, I can't want to?"
No, because it seemed unnatural. No, because he should be doing for himself, not for her. No, because they were on two sides of a blurred and yet definite line and looked at each other from two sides of the same tragic backstory. Kankuro wasn't supposed to care about her beyond a thank-you and "Let's be friends!" If she dreamed big, she thought maybe they could be as good of friends as Naruto and Gaara were…but that wasn't the feeling she got with him.
No, he actually liked her. How weird.
It was so weird, in fact, that she didn't know how to handle it. It made her more squeamish than the first time she pulled a man's entrails out with a punch, more uncomfortable than the first time she treated a pervy civilian for ED. Sure, it was flattering…but Sakura had the distinct feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong and this would complicate it on too many levels to be bothered with.
Kankuro liked her. She wanted to be happy, but honestly, she couldn't be. Not when things were about to go to Hell in a merry handbasket and take two of the greatest shinobi nations with them.
Still, the Puppet Master kneeled before her and tightened the straps on her boots, and began wrapping the bindings that went beneath her holster around her thigh. He had plenty of opportunity to crack perverted jokes, or to cop a feel…but he didn't. He dutifully wrapped the bindings, and then strapped her weapons pouch to her leg securely, double-checking the tightness and the latchings, adjusting it to the right angle for easy reach. He let a hand rest on her knee, lost in thought for a minute.
She shouldn't ask. She really shouldn't ask, but before she knew it, she was already asking, "Kankuro, what are you doing?"
She willed him not to answer. To avoid the question altogether, just like he'd already been doing for the last half hour. Unlike herself however, Kankuro seemed ready to be honest with himself. He looked up at her critically, brown eyes meeting hers with a shrewd and uncompromising light.
"I'm helping you get ready because you were stupid and paralyzed yourself in a fit. If I have to carry you until you're better, I will. I'm showing my affection to a woman who's never going to willingly admit she likes me. That's exactly what I'm doing."
She wanted to say something, but couldn't; and with a single look, it was obvious he knew it. Two seconds later, Kankuro was gone, and Sakura was alone with the knowledge that dancing around the subject was no longer possible...because the Puppet Master himself had decided it was time to address it.
With a glance at the empty doorway, Sakura did the only thing she could think of to better the situation. She closed her eyes, meditated for a moment, and then set herself to strategize. If her past was going to come roaring back, now of all times, she was going to beat it to Hell with the handbasket that came with it. Once she rose victorious, all other...issues...could then be addressed.
As if it were ever really that easy.
AN: SURPRISE. Tonight's (this morning's?) a double-header; two chapters! Because apparently I forgot to post this one...? And now chapter 5 is done, so you'll get a two-for. 8D