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VII. Moss Agate
1. Moss agate is usually formed from weathered volcanic rocks.
2. Enhances mental concentration, persistence, endurance and can be used as a talisman for increasing the effectiveness of one's physical workouts
3. Provides us balancing the capability to be ourselves in the environment; it manages what we hold and what we defy.
She watched him scrutinize her and she forced herself not to squirm under his stare, subtly taking his cue to follow suit in his analysis.
Her eyes only briefly flickered over the deep scars running along the entirety of his face, instead choosing to focus on the broadness of his shoulders, his muscle mass, the hard set to his jaw-
"You're the one who gave the bounty hunter assist such deep pockets, then."
She remained silent as she bored a hole into Morino Ibiki's forehead. She frowned slightly, paused with her examination to nod. So Konoha acquired Zangei and Ibiki got his secrets. She supposed she should have anticipated that act.
She followed a small movement that she belatedly caught in her periphery, eyes sliding to the second impressive mass boxed in the tin-can with her. She knew him as a passing acquaintance, from a life so long ago that hers of now, patchwork and scrapped as it was, could not compare to the rose-tinted integrity of the past. She doubted he knew her aside from her file, this Yamanaka Clan Head.
"Hmph. Alright, let's start with how you left that place. That neutral hospital," barked Morino, causing Naho's blue eyes to wander from the stoic Clan Head.
She couldn't help but tilt her head at the tone- curious, her eyes narrowing a fraction, that an ounce of hostility could be directed at her? What could Ibiki Morino possibly begrudge her for? She'd never met the fellow, as she'd never taken an interest in psychological tampering and hadn't socialized with those older than her in the Academy. Wartime didn't give them much time in the Academy regardless, but the sentiment remained.
…She really managed to step on a lot of toes, returning home, now that she thought about it when as she grazed his face yet again. All she had done was complete a mission, save a life-
Ah.
The thought pounded her skull.
She'd wager if it had anything to do with Hamase entering the village illicitly by her hand. Speaking of… where were they keeping him, that Kumo nin with a figurative heart three sizes too big?
Hopefully somewhere clean, she knew he valued sanitizer and showers above all else, even food. That was something she could not wrap her head around.
Blinking, Naho realized she'd taken too long in her head to sort her thoughts.
Bringing herself to nod a little too slowly, she fought a wince when she felt a foreign sense of chakra against the base of her skull and her temples, and she shuddered a breath.
She was truly disinterested, passionately, in psychological warfare. The mind was a precious, generous, and wonderful reserve that should never be considered a target. She'd seen those broken physically- beaten bloody, she recalled her eye swelling shut and a fear of losing function due to broken bone fragments, swallowing her fear and bile, disgust and utter disappointment.
…She'd overcome that.
But the nightmares, the mentality when she'd seen some fight and beat the genjutsu only to never recover…
Her eyes, this time, cut sharply to the Yamanaka. She recalled considering his intrusive technique rude, with that innocuous, slated expression before her head ached something fierce and she couldn't form a coherent thought anymore.
[~]
Her hands were deep inside a man's chest when she heard the hollow echo of his footsteps approach.
Almost like the hollow vacuum of his soul, she thought sourly as she peered up from the bloody crater of her patient to lay eyes on her senior cardio consult. She had to suck in an extra breath to keep her peace.
"You didn't page me urgently for a perforated ventricular wall but opened him alone? What's the meaning of this, Hosokawa?"
Just for a second, her hands wanted to shake in barely contained rage.
It was a rainy, muggy day and it irritated Naho's joints already, but it also made it easier to spot Jiraiya-sama's toad summons that morning when she stepped out to await the oncoming trauma.
He never sent her things. Ever.
He was an absentee affair that her mum had had long ago and, to that end, an effective handler for her garnered assets to Konoha. She gave him names, scrolls upon scrolls of people and places and cities. Their arrangement was that he did not send her anything.
Quite frankly, it unsettled her when she glanced at the odd-looking toad that morning.
Unsurprisingly, then, the scroll the toad all but vomited ranked high on her list of important things. Right next to the steaming cup of coffee she had been sipping.
"Oi, Swamp Lady!" She shot the orange toad a withering look, catching the regurgitated scroll it slapped her way.
Silently mouthing 'Swamp Lady?' as she perused the sealed paper, she narrowed her eyes at the rude summons.
"You smell like your summoning contract! Don'tcha ever take a shower?!"
Yes, in fact, yes she did. It would be unsightly to walk around the hospital with patients' blood spattered on her all the time, she had wanted to bark snidely, but the toad had hopped away before she could spit the words at the ugly thing. It seemed Jiraiya-sama was familiar with the notorious Fujishima from the Second Shinobi War. She was almost grateful she wasn't the only one.
Nose twitching beneath her mask, Naho quietly tempered her hands, trying to push the information from her mind. She was a surgeon, and although her hands were glowing bright green with her energy to heal this man, she could ruthlessly kill if she so much as slipped. So Naho breathed deeply and let her hands feel the warmth of this man's organs. It took time, mere seconds, but as she cauterized bleeds and repaired tears in the man's intestines, Naho could feel reason returning to her and let the searing, volcanic hatred she felt for him abate and she found her voice.
Simply nodding her head, "Hamase is here. He is a cardiothoracic surgeon, no? That hardly qualifies as alone."
"Don't snark me, girl-"
"I could not place a patch, Fujishima-Senpai… and this tissue is too friable-"
Naho swallowed a quiet sigh as the two medics battled back and forth over the cardiac care, trying to drown out their voices to the rhythmic beeping of the patient's ECG that Hamase paced. At least he had a steady rhythm for now, despite the bloody mess of a torso he possessed.
"Just don't do anything else… I'll scrub in. Bumbling…"
There was a heavy silence, thick with embarrassment from her cohort as Naho kept working. She didn't chance a glance at her colleague, trying to give him privacy, but she could feel his eyes as she worked on the man's abdomen.
"I've got this, Hamase. There's no need to stick around for a lashing. This man's a missing nin anyways- I'm the one who has to handle the paperwork regardless of survival. Fujishima can survive without you."
She still didn't look up from the bloody mess, instead asking her assist to suction and decidedly keeping her eyes away from the abashed surgeon. She placed a hand over the patient's chest and let her hand emit a brighter green, inhaling deeply as she finally noticed movement away from the table. She heard a low, poor excuse for a chuckle before a shoulder bumped hers gently.
"I owe you one, Naho-chan," came his quiet, but quirked murmur.
She blinked.
Fujishima stood opposite of her, both hands squeezing the nukenin's heart. Except…
"Hamase said a pericardial patch didn't hold."
"Rokuto is a Fellow. I am the commander of the department. You focus on your duties. Is that blood in IV-?"
She blinked.
The nukenin was crashing, she unceremoniously ripped her hands from his open abdomen and performed compressions, little lines of sweat beading at her brow and Fujishima was livid, his chakra pulsating. She had been at this for an hour and a half, two if she had counted intake- hadn't he just arrived? This was her patient-
"You're letting him escape, you fool!"
Escape?
There was no getting this one back. Senile old man, she thought, he'd dying, not escaping.
"Time of death: 7:38."
She wiped her forehead with her upper arm, scrunching her brow at the sudden manic expression of the cardiac surgeon-
"He arrived in terrible shape, Fujishima. Looks like an explosive tagged him in the torso-"
She blinked.
There was always a chance where their colleagues would attack one another. It was always there, what with warring villages with different agendas working in such proximity. They had all been in wars against one another before. Their namesakes were the First, Second, and Third Great Shinobi Wars, for stars sakes. Hostility was a lingering worry, always.
So when she caught the glare of movement just shy of the operating table, Naho's brain clicked and she maneuvered her stance on instinct to protect her most vital organ, synapses firing from surgeon to combatant before her expression could even change beneath her surgical mask.
Fujishima tore for her heart with his chakra scalpels.
She blinked.
The nurse and her resident lie gutted on the floor and her chest ached but she had deflected the initial attack, a deep laceration adorning her collar bone with blood gushing from the wound.
She choked a slow, snarled groan as she pivoted, flickering out of sight with blood trailing not far behind.
She blinked.
She would have fought, oh she would have loved to scrap that man to pieces, but her office- she had a scroll she could not jeopardize. Hakkar and Vera and her plans-
She stopped dead when her eyes recognized red against black, red as the blood flooding through her fingers as she pressed her contaminated hand against her wound. Red clouds in her office. She gasped harshly, the breath escaping her lips in a strained hiss.
She carefully pealed her gloves away from her hands, discarded them haphazardly, then her mask absently. Her eyes trained upon the figure as it turned slightly, as if she intruded upon their office, that expressionless orange mask from Hakkar's bar years ago boring into her skull as she slowly, deliberately, clenched her hand into a shaking seal.
"Your space is impeccable, Naho-chan."
She could only sense her own heartbeat, her own breathing, only her chakra as she attempted to seal the skin over her clavicle, beginning first aid and ignoring the chance for infection. The two floors above the ER were empty- unusual for this time of day, and Naho struggled to reconcile what that meant for her emergency medicine colleagues.
Probably dead.
Dead, you know it.
She stepped closer, swallowing as she entered the office and sealed the door with her hand, remaining poised.
The scroll. She had to get that damn thing. All of this was wrong, so very wrong. Their commanding cardiothoracic surgeon was not only working on the Hosokawa dime performing questionable procedures that she finally had concrete proof of thanks to that loafing Toad Sage, but he was working with the Akatsuki?
"Fujishima is roaming. Did you set him loose?"
She blinked.
"Maa, Naho-chan, you don't look so good."
Red and black was whirling and she hadn't a shred of a thought.
Spinning.
She was choking, but there was nothing around her throat and she realized it was inside and she was so dizzy-
Is this genjutsu? Why can I see still? Conscious?
She had to get. away.
The wall caved in on itself as she thumped feebly against it and she threw herself against the crater opening she created and there it was-
Humid, jarring night air as she fell.
/~/
Her head felt warm, but it wasn't horrid like last time and she certainly didn't feel any such scarring on the roof of her mouth.
"Are you with us, Hosokawa-san?"
"…Yes."
"That's encouraging. Ibiki-san…"
Encouraging.
Feh.
The male voice was kinder, but Ibiki had set the bar pretty low. She wanted to keep the insulated warmth in her head for a little bit longer, too.
"I didn't detect any lies," she heard the rough voice of Ibiki bite out, almost as if he were disappointed he wouldn't be using any of his sharp tools this round. There was a low buzz of an intercom, perhaps, followed by the commanding voice of Senju Tsunade. "Let's break for lunch."
Naho visibly flinched.
Strange, Yamanaka Inoichi silently mused when he caught the minuscule yet harsh movement with his sharp eye, following her tiny mannerisms as she collected herself by touching her fingertips to her temple. Strange, indeed, that that would be her reaction to Hokage-sama all but proffering an unnecessary relief to their superficial prodding.
He hadn't even truly begun to trudge through that mire of damaged chakra coils residing in her brain. He'd nearly started inside her muddled mindscape, the haze of past and present urgency so prominent that he could feel even his own pulse quicken at the glance of incomprehensible information and slivered memories.
He stood cordially as the slim Hosokawa slipped through the door silently, carefully noting that her rush did not seem forced, recalling his near hysteria inside her mind. A seemingly polite slip was all she offered.
His eyes narrowed.
That kind of damage was not unprecedented. However, no one, not even a pupil of Tsunade-sama, the greatest iryō-nin in the world, should have that refined chakra control to support that kind of coil damage during advanced surgery. Hadn't she just assisted in, from his understanding, bringing Sarutobi Asuma from the brink?
What the hell was going on?
"Naho, my blossom… you have become much more 'hip' in your beautiful age. Have you been writing to my Springtime Rival in your absence?!"
Blinking sleepily, Naho halfheartedly furrowed her brows at her Master for the week, gripping the steaming cup of coffee for warmth and strength. Strength and tolerance, she reminded herself. "Hip?"
She watched the man nod way too assuredly for 0400 hours, early morning still dark and brisk and not at all what Naho enjoyed. If she was awake this early it was for surgery and purpose, not training and theory. "Yes! Your hair in the braided knot speaks of discipline and mastery. Your clothing… well, it is certainly good to train in. It is not armor, but it is flexible! And flattering! You are ready to win hearts and win for yourself all except…"
Naho preferred her coffee black. It wasn't for taste, but because it was most convenient to make in the bustle of the emergency department. Unlike many of her senior medic colleagues, she did not make her residents fetch coffee for her during procedures or consults. Some thought she was soft, but Naho held caution and simply preferred her coffee without poison, so she kept her consumables in her owns hands. Even with other Konoha colleagues, she would politely decline their generous offers to brew her a cup.
Returning home, that was another box that needed to be checked off. She put a hesitant tick in her mental list as she considered her lunch with Kakashi the previous day. She had eaten food that wasn't prepared right before her eyes; that had been done. She nodded to herself as she looked at Gai, who was still rambling about looking and feeling your best, and when you felt your best it was the pinnacle of youth and hard work. She sipped her coffee.
Yep.
That had certainly been checked. It wasn't all that had happened, but she had eaten.
Noticing her melancholic, glazed eyes, Gai paused in his tirade in respect of hard work and the Flames of Youth. Smirking, his hand suddenly zipped as quick as a lightning-natured nin and snatched her cup from her faux fingers, "Did you know that 16 ounces of coffee has 700-"
"What the hell!"
"Caffeine is not the correct stimulant for my dear Naho-chan!"
"WHO is the medical professional here?!"
Alas, Naho could only watch as the muscled man poured out her precious kickstart to the morning in one fell swoop. She closed her eyes in defeat as he rattled off the evils of caffeine on the cardiovascular system. Somewhere during 'what havoc your brain probably experiences, Naho-chan!' though, a small smile curled the corner of her lips.
But that was before he had her scale the Hokage Monument without Chakra.
Fifty times.
/~/
Sometime after her physical conditioning for the morning, Naho found her feet at the doors of Konoha General Hospital. Her lips slanted into a frown, however, when she found that she could not enter. Kakashi's voice, so easily, drifted in her ears.
"Lack of patient care…"
She stood; she didn't know for how long, but she knew she wasn't alone.
The muted flare of chakra told her so.
/~/
"Enter!" Tsunade didn't look up from the letter Shizune had her sign, however upon hearing a muttered, "Troublesome," her brown eyes zeroed in on her visitor.
"Ah, come in, Shikamaru. Did I interrupt your visit with Asuma?"
Shuffling into the office, the Nara patted down a yawn and shook his head in denial. "Nah. He's still only awake for short periods, if that. He started to ramble about weird stuff, anyways…"
He kept his face blank when the woman smirked, uttering a small chuckle. "Hmph. Cut him some slack. He's had a tough time… Anyways, the reason I called you here…"
He followed the tapping of her manicured nail, crossing his arms as he stepped closer to her desk. His brows furrowed over a familiar dossier, bulkier than it had been the first time it graced their presence.
Hosokawa Nahoko.
If he hadn't had years of practice keeping a stone-cold expression, he would have scoffed.
"A potentially advantageous Asset of hers has called upon Konoha for assistance. I'm giving this mission, and by extension her, to you. Though I should warn you… we don't know much about this Asset, Shikamaru, or her relationship to them."
She pointedly omitted Nahoko's ongoing interrogations with T&I, keeping a blank mask when the thought of her potentially damaged coils rose like a treacherous snake from the grass.
"Then why respond at all, Hokage-sama?"
Strategically, it did not make much sense. To save a variable by putting known allies at great risk. There was more to this that she let on, he presumed with a small frown.
At this inquiry, Tsunade stood slowly, clasping her hands behind her back and slanting her lips.
Heaving a breath, "Because Jiraiya has confirmed through several sources that Akatsuki wants this man dead."
/~/
She scratched her bandaged wrist lightly when she felt the spot above a certain tattooed name sting, hmphing in acknowledgement as she lounged beneath the shaded canopy.
Uh oh.
She'd check the tattoo when she was done here. That entailed extracting a bit of chakra from it to read the message that Hakkar sent. Hopefully it was just him checking up on her, but her stomach rolled uneasily in contradiction when she supposed that Hakkar never sent trivial messages via his fuinjutsu calligraphy.
Her skin prickled when she had the distinct notion that she wasn't alone again, her expression cagey as she glanced-
She feigned a yawn upon the approaching footfalls, "I must confess, I am a little nervous to spar with you after so long. My last fight didn't go so well."
"You are the image of youth, Naho-chan. Embrace the aura and you will feel the righteous volcano of vitality after!"
A nervous chuckle slipped from her lips, knowing that in her ratty Uzumaki clan shirt and scuffed shoes, she did not promise spirit and paint the picture of a woman at the zenith of her youth like Gai described, but she couldn't help but crinkle her eyes at his merciful words. He had a way with them, at least. That hadn't changed.
She had been wrong, however, when she first saw him in Hokage-sama's office thinking he hadn't changed. She took a good look at him now, squinting up at him as he offered a gentlemanly hand, calloused from years of training to overcome obstacles of his own.
She wondered what pushed him to train that hard, to leave his hands that blistered and bruised so much that it would scar so obviously. Who was he trying to reach-
"Let's just play rock paper scissors. We have an early day tomorrow."
"Whaaat?! I have all this energy, Kakashi! We need to let loose!"
Ah.
Swallowing thickly, she took the hand she had been studying and let him haul her up.
"Thank you."
"Of course! It's the end of your strength and endurance focus- don't fret, my friend. One thousand laps are still in store for us every morning! But now we move on to the next segment- hand to hand."
Her gaze was on their hands, unbroken in their hold. She couldn't feel most it because it was her artificial one, but she wiggled her fingers a bit to break the connection because it was suddenly harder to swallow and she wasn't going to cry because Gai held her mockery of hand and didn't see anything wrong. Maybe he even saw a little bit of strength instead of what she had come to know.
"Magnificent…"
She cleared her throat, flexing the mechanics.
She pulled her lips into a clumsy smile. "Don't go easy on me, Gai."
"I would never do you the disservice, Naho-chan!"
/~/
She remembered the flicker of a younger, whimsical thought.
Gai-kun is fast.
That same thought briefly crossed her mind after she relaxed her shoulders and settled into her defensive stance, pursed her lips and exhaled her breath-
A green sleeve forced her head backwards with the force of his forearm when she clumsily dodged, and that was the start to Naho's intricate footwork to avoid the barreling force of Maito Gai as he slammed forward.
She vaguely wondered, as she glided her palms beneath his wrist and planted her feet so firmly in the mud that she kicked up water to harshly flip his weight against him, if he realized that he had already hit her face three times-
"FWAH!"
She had concentrated chakra to her arms in a blink, uttering a small oof as she seized Gai's muscled forearms and flipped him, jutting her hip to fuel her own momentum.
"Nah-!"
She immediately offensively fired by crashing her heel into the ground, channeling her chakra so the ground exploded around his body and her mouth twitched a bit that she drew second blood.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.
"I… I bruised a beautiful maiden's face! Please forgive me, Nahoko-chan!"
Her eyes crinkled in a way that made her chest feel tight.
"Y-You have not slackened, Naho-chan! So quick, like the rippling water-"
She deliberately pressed her other foot onto the ground with precision, heel-to-toe, and fought a wince at the uttered, "Guh!" before the man zipped up with scuffs and dirt lining his clothes and… her mouth twitched.
"You have mud in your hair, Gai-kun."
Konoha's Green Beast smirked, and Naho momentarily mused that it'd be a shame to bruise those cheekbones before he launched himself into her.
Ouch.
/~/
"We will resume tomorrow morning, my student," the brunette's cheek twitched upon the sharp thumbs up she received, and she nearly winced at the blinding glare that Gai's teeth seemed to emit. But despite her lack of caffeine intake and the headache that pulsated between her eyes and the annoyance that stemmed from it all, a small ache took root in her chest at the thought of leaving his enthusiasm hanging.
Once again proffering her quiet smile, Naho extended her once disabled hand and shot her own thumb up, placing her other hand on her hip, tenderly, and posing as well as she could.
That definitely bruised.
"Aa. Tomorrow your weights come off."
"OHO! ALRIGHT!"
He sported a bruised cheekbone.
"Sah… Gai," she began, catching the Jonin as he palmed his water bottle and guzzled a mouthful. He sent her a comical, quizzical look with his mouth full and she felt her mouth turn up.
"Let me heal that for you."
She didn't remember doing it much as a kid when they sparred, on the off occasion that she actually landed a hit hard enough to bruise or tear his skin, but she felt almost like a puzzle piece put in upside down if she left it as was. It wasn't an impressive injury by any means, but it was caused by her hand.
"This is nothing, my friend! It is a badge of honor, the product of our hard work and relentless exercise!"
She blinked, feeling uncomfortable enough under his sublime joy to avert her eyes. She cleared her throat, not really understanding badges and honor regarding injuries. She tried to fix them, liked to prevent them when she could. If someone could erase the evidence of one altogether, she glanced down numbly to her hand, then why not do so?
"Are you sure?"
A firm nod was her response. "Save your energy for tomorrow's Springtime Youth Marathon!"
She couldn't stop the goosebumps crawling up her arms at those foreboding words.
/~/
She sighed loudly, exhaling a grumble when she made her way down the overgrown path of the Hosokawa compound, purposefully slow steps halting.
"Do you have hooves or something? Come on… this is a poor excuse for a shadow!"
Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.
Pft.
It was almost as if they moved twice her speed, the way she clearly sensed their patterned movements with her miffed poise. She swiveled, ready to box the ears of whoever had been hounding her for the last two days-
"OI!"
"Kakashi failed to mention that shouting would be involved…"
Naho pressed her lips together, twisting them and furrowing her brow as her eyes landed on her two-day tail.
It quite literally had a tail.
Her mouth opened in a silent 'O' as the figure emerged fully from the shadows, revealing its canine stature and…
"You've got to be joking."
Hatake Kakashi was not only the coolest, calmest and most collected man she had ever had the grace of meeting, but apparently had the coolest summons as well.
"He said you'd say something like that."
Uttering a small Cheh under her breath, Naho tried to disregard the cool appearance of the dog's sunglasses, even if it was rounding 21:00 and she was jealous that they still looked hip- as Gai would say. She would only look ridiculous wearing sunglasses at this time of night.
"What can I call you, before I get into this?"
She resisted the urge to pet the personal summons, wary that she'd lose yet another finger over personal space. She tucked a loose strand of hair from her bun behind her ear, stray from her taxing spar with Master Gai, no doubt.
"That's refreshing. He did say you are polite."
Her cheek twitched. What the hell did Kakashi say to this dog? And why the hell did he have her followed to begin with?
"I'll call you Doggo if you go on-"
"The name is Akino."
She smiled tightly. "A pleasure, Akino."
"Likewise, Swamp Woman."
Pulling a face, she silently mouthed 'Swamp?' for the second time to herself, confused by a personal summons from Konoha.
Nonetheless, the brunette gestured for him to continue to the compound alongside her, seeing no sense in having this conversation outside when they could have it indoors over tea.
"You smell like algae."
She flatly rolled her eyes to Akino, finding his glasses trained on her as he walked, but she did not grace that one with a response. What was with that expression, anyways? Could dogs even smile?
/~/
"Would you like more tea, Akino-san?" Her eyes crinkled slightly as she cradled the teapot gently in her palm, silently appraising her four-legged guest.
"You bet. This is good stuff."
Naho mused, judging by his expression, he was soon to be her friend. If she could judge a dog's face correctly. She was in the dark here.
"It's the raspberry. Refreshing, I think." She poured more into his bowl, which looked more decorative than anything, but Naho had been hard pressed to find anything because she hadn't resided here in years. Her mum wouldn't care about dirtying fine china; Pa would, probably.
"Kakashi doesn't make this kind of stuff. I will come here more often."
Her mouth curled wryly; had she just picked up a stray?
Nodding absently, "Kakashi does not have any taste. He thinks chestnuts taste like dirt and beansprouts should be eaten first if they're on your plate when, really, they're the ones that taste earthy. Also, he thinks that when I get a bag of dango from old man Mebuuro's stall over by the Academy I should not eat it immediately, which- quite frankly- is ludicrous. You eat what you buy. Tsk. You are welcome for tea anytime, Akino-san."
Her nose twitched when she huffed, finishing her rant with a cool sip of tea. Her eyes had fluttered shut in indignation, a lone, black eye gazing back at her with a spark of irritation.
She heard the canine rattle the bowl on its rim. "You know him well."
She frowned at the muffled statement, "I know his deplorable eating habits. He makes a point to pick-"
Freezing, Naho suddenly felt her throat tighten uncomfortably.
"Swamp Lady?"
Oh. She'd done it again.
She'd done that a lot lately, thinking in the past. Thinking everything was the same, her place was the same. She'd been talking about Kakashi like she knew him, when these were facts from more than a decade ago. She didn't know if these little, inconsequential truths were still accurate.
Warmth used to bloom in her chest, her cheeks, when she spotted his silver hair, his trained apathetic stare, his hands on his hips in a chiding manner, his brow quirked when she surprised him with a gesture or speech and she would laugh and he would show the barest hint of a smile-
She remembered the tight-looking grip he'd previously held her fingers, "…I would like to discuss this further when I return."
She didn't know this man. She gave up knowing him when she induced vertigo on their escort mission, allowing him to sustain a wound so deep she seriously doubted if he'd regain full range-of-motion in his limb. She gave it up in exchange for her own sanity, survival-
A cold, damp sensation on her knee caused Naho rip her focus, her critical gaze sharpening on the dog's nose that nudged her leg. Somehow, despite knowing the ugly expression coating her face, she could not move it.
She was reminded, yet again, that she returned to a place that people insisted that she call home but, each time she looked around, it was uncomfortable and lonely.
She cleared her throat and tapped her fingers against her cup, correcting herself, "He… he made a point to pick at my eating habits. We were friends as kids. That is all."
Gently setting the cup on the ground, Naho focused her sharp gaze completely on Akino's tan fur, right between his eyes. She pointedly overlooked the glint coming from his sunglasses, as well as the face she knew she still made.
"To the matter at hand…."
"You're a childhood friend of his? I don't remember an algae-scented human-"
Her head pounded right between her eyes.
Eye twitching, "I would be more than happy to summon my contract, Akino-san. I'm sure whoever pops in will be hungry for dog."
She wondered if dogs could sweat.
"That's not necessary."
Maybe she should read up on ninken, especially if Kakashi decided this was the norm; having her followed was just another facet of what they'd become.
"Hm. I don't know… I mean, dogs do have sharp teeth, but have you ever seen their teeth? Oof," she exhaled dramatically, rolling up her black sleeve to reveal a roll of bandages. "Have you ever stuck your arm in the mouth of an alligator and lived to tell the tale?"
So she didn't know if the sunglasses were necessary, and she didn't know if dogs could sweat or if the raspberry tea she gave him was okay to consume, but she did know that dogs got nervous. She watched for the tick, just as she would for a human-
Ah, I have you now, Doggo.
He backpedaled slightly in his spot, paw stepping just so and she smirked-
"Why don't you tell me why Kakashi graced me with your presence so we can go on amicably, Akino-san?"
Shikamaru had thought that opening Asuma-Sensei's window would do him some good, seeing as the man had been stuffed in the far corners of the ICU for two months. Fresh air, hell, at this point Shikamaru would go as far as to give him a damn smoke if the bags under his eyes would recede-
"Only thirty more laps, Naho-chan!"
Blinking, Shikamaru tilted his head from the window with squinted eyes towards the morning sun as he heard Gai-Sensei's exuberant shout, followed by an elevated, yet collected cry. "Absolutely not!"
"How troublesome," he mumbled with an uncharacteristic frown, his shoulders stiff as he watched the retreating figures until they turned a sharp corner.
"Hm? Is that Gai?"
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the shadow user turned rigidly only to find his Sensei's eyes trained on his every move.
"Aa," he grumbled, ambling back to his seated position across the bedridden man, resuming his turn on the shogi board. He didn't miss the low chuckle from Asuma-Sensei, nor the sharp snap of his bishop being placed diagonally on the board.
Hm. That was strange.
"And Nahoko."
Shikamaru's eyes flicked only a second before moving his rook forward. "Aa. Hokage-sama assigned the two for reconditioning before we set out."
Silently, Shikamaru speculated that one week was hardly enough to brace yourself for a chance encounter against a powerful terrorist organization, but he was not one to defy his Kage.
Asuma, having been awake for only three days now, was adjusting as well as could be expected for a man nearly killed by a cultist craving nothing but violence and death.
…Tsunade-sama was the one to break it to him.
Yes, they had saved his life, but there was almost always a cost regarding high-stakes surgery. And Nahoko- Kami-sama bless that beautiful, wreck of a woman- maneuvered beneath the Hokage's nose, developed a radical surgical plan that would have gotten her executed in War Time, and performed the damn thing herself. But even with the efforts of her, Tsunade-sama, and the ace Kumogakure Shinobi, they had not been able to salvage his Shinobi career.
They had barely managed to salvage him.
He would have been lying to say this news wasn't devastating- it was all he had ever known, all he had ever been trained to do- but the moment Kurenai had stepped into his bleak recovery room those thoughts dissipated. Her belly just began to round, but she gave a watery smile and placed her hand upon her stomach and his heavy lids widened.
He had a family.
"Ne, Shikamaru," he began, watching the teen counter yet another move of his. His lip quirked as he made to move for his bishop yet again, switching for a pawn a moment later. "You shouldn't worry about Hosokawa. She survived in a hostile environment for a long time. She hasn't forgotten how to fight."
"How was Iwasaki General a hostile environment? Her own family funds the hospital and there were other Konoha Shinobi there. We aren't at war."
The older Shinobi frowned at this statement, fingers freezing over his knight. Eyes glazing, he recalled eating dango in a restaurant with other Shinobi of his generation. He'd flirt with Kurenai and she'd call him an idiot with a scowl and cross her arms with a red face, and Gai would antagonize Kakashi to join them but the prodigy would just walk on silently ignoring them, so obviously in pain from the death of his team. Then there was Nahoko, with her large, circular specs and subdued bright eyes right beside him, mouthing a silent 'thank you' and a wave to the group before smiling innocently at her companion, who would look at her, expressionless but knowingly.
"The village may not actively be at war with neighboring nations, true…"
Shikamaru hesitated, noting the gravity of his sensei's tone. He had yet to make a move on the board, either.
"But?"
"You are always at war outside of the village walls, Shikamaru. Letting your guard down is a mistake that may very well cost you your life. Naho not only managed to make it home with hers, but preserve probably hundreds of others. I don't think that's a woman that sat idly when she wasn't healing others."
Snap.
Shikamaru had moved his knight.
His sensei quirked his lips, descending quickly for the kill with his bishop.
"Ah…"
"You should talk to her. You said she listened last time."
The Nara made a face, recalling her subversive approach to treat his sensei. If she had been more forthright, maybe he'd be more inclined to trust her- a woman that had been tasked to lie for years on end. All he could manage, though, was a muttered, "Troublesome."
His sensei coughed a laugh. "Naho is like the bishop. She can go incredibly far for the sake of people, but she is not a straightforward person. Her movements are restricted diagonally, I think."
"You're going on about weird stuff again, Sensei. Is this about when you said who the Kings are?"
But Asuma-Sensei only smiled softly, inhaling deeply. His heart monitor lulled quietly in the background.
"She may be a good shogi opponent, you never know."
Shikamaru sighed.
He hated the sensation of gauze upon his cheek. It shifted uncomfortably against his wound and caused him to sit up slowly, placing his hands before him on the cheap inn's blanket.
"Did anyone get any leads on Itachi?" Uchiha Sasuke's questions were a trick upon the ears; he may have been phrasing it as such, but it certainly sounded like a flat statement that ordered the affirmative.
The only woman in the room spluttered, shocked, "You're in no condition to even be thinking about that!"
He almost frowned, however the lone Uchiha rarely expressed his emotions. That, and Juugo easily picked up on any expressed displeasure, something Karin and Suigetsu had made an art of.
"I heard plenty on Akatsuki as a whole… and only something real flimsy on Uchiha Itachi."
"What?! And you're just now bringing this up?! You're a real asshole, Suigetsu."
He didn't flinch, then, as Suigetsu's head exploded into a wave of water and a droplet fell onto his cheek opposite of that annoying bandage, nor when his eye caught the first sign of Juugo's transformation. Naturally, he felt his eyes bleed red before the man could do any harm, before Karin could even shriek.
"Shit, Juugo's freaking out again! Sasuke, do something!"
He subtly shifted on his cot. "Settle down, Juugo."
The curse mark began to fade down his neck, and Sasuke did not close his eyes until it disappeared beneath his teammate's collar. He huffed, lowering his head and clenching his hand, cursing silently at his body and how slowly it was healing. It healed quicker now that he had absorbed Orochimaru and acquired his abilities, but it was not fast enough.
He wordlessly wondered about someone the Elder Cat had mentioned…
"So you are going to find Itachi then…"
The Elder Cat gazed upon him with eyes holding great sadness, but her features were steel.
What a strange juxtaposition, Sasuke noted.
"I remember what you two were like as kids. I can't believe it's come to this. To think the Uchiha Clan would be reduced to but two people, and they would end up fighting to the death."
He remained silent, merely passing her payment…
"I made up my mind a long time ago. But I thank you for everything you've done for me."
She nodded, grasping the money and placing it in her robes. Before Sasuke could rise, however, she reached for a wooden box, holding a hand for him to pause.
"You've come for weapons and medicine, correct? This is the last batch… you should take it."
Sasuke remained stoic as the Elder Cat reached in, grasping a small, stone medicine bowl with a matching lid. She held it out for him, but he had his reservations.
Sasuke was grateful for her, what she had done for the Uchiha. However, that did not stop him from activating his Sharingan to observe the medicine and its chakra network, mindful that this bowl was very dense.
Sasuke didn't know much about medicine, but he did know that this felt… alive. Three years around Orochimaru's experiments caused him to hold caution.
"Who made this? Why is it here?" Sasuke reached for the medicine once he realized the Elder Cat was still holding it and very much alive, scrutinizing the stone.
"She was a trusted iryō-nin. Her name is Hosokawa Nahoko. She's continued to make this paste since… the massacre."
His sharp glance had whatever words she had prepared dying on her lips.
He eyed the bowl sitting innocuously beside his cot. Looking at the stone cover, he felt his mouth concave just slightly, "What did you hear, Suigetsu?"
"Ehh, that Uchiha Itachi was seen slummin' it in some black-market bar in some village just East of here. I dunno. Does your brother have any interest in uncut gemstones, diamonds and stuff?"
His eyes tightened at the influx of information but did not stray from the little bowl.
He reached for it, ignoring Karin's shrill, "Sasuke-kun?!"
"Did the bar have a name?"
Suigetsu scratched the back of his head, a sharp tooth poking his upper lip. "Nah, but the owner does. Juuya Hakkar?"
Uncapping the lid, the black-haired boy schooled his expression when the gelatin met his eyes.
Innocuous, indeed. "Hn."
In a swift motion did he scoop a dollop onto two of his fingers, ripping the gauze from his cheek and liberating himself from the confining dressing. He hid his curiosity beneath a scowl as the goop seemed to freeze his fingertips cold, but he smoothed them over his cheek anyways and leveled his breathing when it hardened over his skin instantaneously.
"Sasuke-kun!"
"It's alright, Karin."
"Heh. It's like a mud-mask."
"You-!"
The cold receded, leaving him with only a wisp of chakra, reminding him of the autumn wind. He tapped a finger, hard, against the paste that had adhered to his face, listening for the crack that never came.
"Hn."
"Idiot, move over."
Suddenly, red hair invaded his peripheral and Karin had her hands on his cheek, analyzing the hardened paste with a critical eye. The Uchiha remained silent, knowing the woman couldn't remain quiet for long. He did not have to wait long for words when it came to Team Hebi.
Adjusting her glasses, Karin coughed to give herself some space. Being this close to Sasuke-kun was the prize.
"Whoever made this is insane."
"Hn. What do you mean?"
Cri-Crack!
The minty paste abruptly began to crumble, leaving Sasuke to graze his cheek in anticipation. Where there was once a raw, blast-induced abrasion that burned like an absolute bitch, there was unblemished, silky skin. Hydrated, too.
Sasuke blinked. He had not yet healed on his own from his fight with the Akatsuki, Deidara.
"I mean that that," Karin gestured furiously to the bowl, glasses glinting, "goop is teeming with yin chakra! Whoever made that might as well have been sitting right by your side healing you. It's like they knew the exact dose of chakra you'd need, despite your injury, for you to not overdose. I don't… it's like its alive! It's creepy!"
"Hn."
Rolling his eyes, Suigetsu stood from his seat on the wall. "So there's an iryō-nin out there who knows what they're doing. Big whoop. What's the plan, Sasuke?"
He had already put the lid on the bowl, securing it in his bag.
He closed his eyes with an order, considering the name the Elder Cat had given him. This one first, though.
"Juuya Hakkar."
She chewed her food thoughtfully, lazily tossing a sliced cucumber to her neighbor as she continued to read her text. Said neighbor merely lifted his head from the ground to snap his jaws around the refreshing fruit, laying it back in the sun once he swallowed the treat.
She, too, sat in the sun awaiting her afternoon spar with Gai. He was breaking out his pair of nunchaku this afternoon, and Naho wasn't quite sure if she was mentally prepared to clash with Gai's legendary combination with the Twin Fangs.
"You think I should call him Master Gai? We're already on day five, but I think he would like that."
She creased her page, having stopped reading about dog's incredible sense of smell minutes ago, catching the tan canine's ear twitch. He lazily picked up his paw to scratch his face before relaxing again. "I think he'd faint if you extended the honor."
She smiled, almost laughed, but decided to stuff another cucumber in her mouth instead.
Her wrist stung.
"Mm."
Akino was fairly relaxed, and she hadn't checked Hakkar's last message, she acknowledged with uncertainty.
This was the second one.
There was no choice but to check, consequence of her obvious shadow be damned. Rechecking for any unwanted company, Naho was forty percent confident that it was just her and the dog in Training Ground Two.
…Her specialty did not lie in sensory-type chakra detection.
She resigned herself to the inevitable- Kakashi knowing one of her secrets and likely to receive answers about more. On her left wrist, there lie trusted names thanks to Hakkar's fuinjutsu. His own burned annoyingly, and Naho pulled a face as she slowly unwrapped the bindings above his ink. Her cheek twitched in annoyance when she briefly imagined Kakashi's face in her mind, could only imagine his demand for answers this time with that flat expression. Like why did she have a criminal's name seared onto her wrist, and why could he contact her anytime he wanted?
She made the seals for boar, ram, hare, and ox in two consecutive sessions, quickly nicking her thumb on the edge of her kunai hanging on her pants.
She'd thought biting one's finger was a bit barbaric.
She dragged the small drop of blood on Hakkar's tattoo, murmuring, "Atlas: Calligraphy Communications Jutsu!"
It sounded like an exhausted exhalation of the lungs when the elegant lettering adhered from her arm to dance midair, and she squinted her eyes as she read.
Location unsecure.
There was a hesitance in the lettering, Naho could see it, causing her to twist her lips in a grimace.
She should not have waited.
Hostiles approaching. Protocol is as discussed, Child.
"The fool," she slipped, her breath hitching anxiously.
She supposed his criminal network let him know he had been targeted? Hers certainly hadn't. Regardless, she hadn't a choice but to trust the retired Shinobi's judgement; he had lived a long life selling illegal substances and hadn't been killed yet. He knew when to anticipate bad… things.
As for their protocol… Naho shifted with a grimace. Once she returned home, she was directed to sit still and let him to ask for help through proper channels. The purpose was to protect Naho's reputation, namely from those who doubted that someone could not come in from the cold after ten years. It was common, to lose people to the wild. They had flimsily agreed upon it, but it churned Naho's stomach just thinking about it.
This man had done so much for her: housing her in her time of need, cooking those delicious rice-balls with care she hadn't received since her mum was alive, stitching her clothing together after a skirmish, supplying sandbag after sandbag in the ratty little dojo-house of his… Her early twenties had been spent reveling in his care, and she had absorbed every last bit of it like blood to gauze.
"Smells like trouble."
Her fingers creaked as she balled her fist, but she forced herself to take a deep breath.
"It is," she leaned back against the tree, grateful for the cloud that just shaded the sun and provided her a moment to cool her head. She couldn't help but shoot the dog a look, unable to smooth the worry from her face. "You can tell Kakashi that-"
"I told you that's not why he had me follow you, Nahoko."
"Hmph. You would like me to believe that Hatake Kakashi would pass up the opportunity to gather information on a subject (me) that he must deal with sooner rather than later? Akino-san," she leaned forward, narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, pausing for effect, "…do you take me for an idiot?"
The dog deadpanned her. "…No."
Ah.
"You paused. Do you want any more cucumbers? Say goodbye to fruit infused tea. Oh look, my finger is still bleeding. Kuchiyose no Jut-"
"I revealed myself because your true tail was going to make their move, I informed you of that when you threatened me over tea. Kakashi ordered not to leave you alone due to ROOT's agenda. But I do remember… now that you mention it-"
"Again," she interrupted with a baleful gaze.
Akino continued, unfazed, as Naho began to rewrap her bindings. "Kakashi did mention to gather your activities and report upon his return."
"That defeats the point if your mark knows exactly what you're doing."
"No. I will still report," seriously, the sunglasses did not help the gravity with which this dog spoke.
The sun glared off them, causing Naho to sigh as she tied off the bandage. "The point is moot. Is the tail here now?"
"Yes."
"So they saw my little display."
The dog just looked at her, as if the question didn't even need to be asked. She began to understand the similarity between Kakashi and these animals, and she hadn't even hung around either of them for too long.
How irritating.
"Great," she muttered, leaning against the tree again, but not before tossing the dog another slice. After all, it wasn't all his fault his master was a shady brat.
"Kakashi also didn't mention that you were so scary. I did not have the slightest clue that I'd be threatened to be fed to the mighty alligators of Swamp Furusawa."
"What did baka Kakashi say exactly?"
"He said 'watch her fists, but rest assured she can bandage properly at least.' I'll have to update him on the degradation of your personality."
Naho's eye ticked violently. She decided that she was not a dog person. Alligators were far better companions.
/~/
Sometime later in the afternoon, after Naho had time to peruse her text on what consumables were toxic to the canine species, the brunette felt the speedy arrival of her expected Master.
"My student! What maturity, to arrive so early. It goes to show, it's never too late to learn from one of your pupils~!"
Naho, crinkling her eyes, folded her book. "We're around the same age, Gai."
"Oho! True- eh? Is that one of my Eternal Rival's ninken by your side? What brought on this blooming comraderie?"
Naho did not blink at her friend's question, keeping her face neutral as she slid her eyes to the dog.
He sat up, panting lackadaisically, innocently like some kind of domesticated tail-wagger ready for a treat.
Feh.
Blue eyes trailing back to her green-clad peer, she did blink. Her head pounded.
Returning to Konoha required more brainpower than most surgeries. Her mental checklist told her that ROOT was, for certain, within the vicinity to relay any pertinent information back to Danzo, a trusted council member that she truly had not anticipated as a domestic enemy. Yet, somehow upon her return home, she had really slighted the man with her field actions, inspiring him to go as far as to seal Fujishima Daetsu in her mind.
She hadn't been able to speak a word of the corrupt Kiri-nin or of the events at Iwasaki leading to her departure, leading to the inclusion of the Yamanaka. Just what was Shimura trying to get out of her silence? Just that, or biding time perhaps?
Aware that ROOT could hear this conversation, Naho hastily spawned a reason for Akino's companionship. She did not want to explain complications of returning, or potentially risk the life of a friend- who was only performing a good deed here.
She covered quickly, "It's a challenge. Kakashi didn't think you were enough to keep me company, so he summoned one of his pups to help with the uh, ah… loneliness…"
"WHAT! This is UNACCEPTABLE! My rival has challenged me without so much as informing me," he took one look at their setup, relaxing nicely in the sun with their snack and textbook, Naho stroking Akino's fur easily, and his eyes watered like a faucet, "and he is WINNING! Naho-chan, a thousand apologies for letting my Eternal Rival stoop to such despicable tactics! Of course, animal companionship heals the heart! What heartfelt feelings…"
Naho cast a raised brow Akino's way, but the dog shot her a furtive, dirty look.
…She hadn't gotten to that part of the book yet, if dogs could do that.
She nearly scoffed. Withholding a cucumber, she bore witness as Gai seemed to curl inwards with emotion before exploding, arms stretched out with a bellowing voice.
"Ahh-! KAKASHI! This YOUTH! You exemplify the glorious nourishment of the seed of friendship! This care, this generosity- I will NOT BE BEATEN!"
Nodding absently, Naho chomped on another slice before lidding her container. She wiped her hands on her pants, rising with a long, slow stretch. "Maa, I have all this energy all of a sudden. Let's spar!"
His eyes literally sparkled; medically, she wondered if she should be concerned. "YES, NAHO-CHAN!"
/~/
She grunted when she buried her fist in his stomach, exhaling painfully as she decided to retreat with a sharp twist.
She heard a similar, if not more pained oof meters away as she curled her hands to her side, wincing at the hit he landed with his Twin Fangs.
That was mean.
"V-Very nice, my blossoming student-!"
Naho, hugging her ribs, watched the Taijutsu master's knees buckle.
She felt it too, with her hair sticking to her face and aching body sporting a possible bruised or broken rib, the misery to quit. She dipped her head to suck in a breath before lifting, squinting at her friend's odd pallor.
No way…
"O-Oi Gai… you're not going to vomit, are you?"
"…!"
"H-Hey!"
Someone cleared their throat from behind, causing the brunette to jerk her head around in surprise just as Gai emptied the contents of his stomach in the bushes.
Gross.
And judging from his grimace, the recently-arrived Shikamaru agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed audibly, "Hokage-sama requests our audience, Hosokawa."
"Haaa?"
/~/
"How was I supposed to know he hated cucumbers that much?" Naho muttered petulantly, crossing her arms as she and Shikamaru deposited Konoha's Green Beast at the clinic near the Tower.
The poor sod was still nauseous after taking Naho's chakra-infused fist to the gut with the lingering scent of cucumbers coating her fingers and pants. It wasn't her fault that Gai had never mentioned they made him deathly ill…
"How troublesome…"
"Yeah, no kidding. You're not the one who had to carry almost eighty kilos of pure muscle, either. I'm already sore from his regimen of thousands of laps this week. Plus, I believe he busted one of my ribs back there."
She caught the Nara's side-eye as they made their way side-by-side towards the Hokage Tower, unimpressed with his composed exterior.
"You haven't healed it yet?"
She shifted uncomfortably, "It's in a tight spot. I was going to just let it alone naturally, but…"
She let her sentence hang, waiting for the tactician to latch onto her hesitance.
She blatantly stared at him, piecing her knowledge of their last encounter. This boy… judging by his rigid posture, pointed looks away from her, the frown lines, and the tightness around his eyes, did not find her company agreeable. Coupled with the fact that, recalling the only time she visited Sarutobi, his attitude was standoffish, she could cautiously deduce that the Nara did not care for her.
His eyes slid to hers.
Ah.
"But?"
She leveled him, cutting him off with a lone, heavy step and a stony expression.
"But it seems I'll have to ask Tsunade-sama to speed it up. She requested our audience, you said?"
She knew that Hakkar sent her a message two days ago and she just got around to checking it. That meant that he had sent for assistance via proper channels Kami knows how long ago. Tsunade wanted her to finish her regimen and she had not completed her mental health evaluation. She was also mid-interrogation with T&I. Naho knew, with absolute certainty, that she would not send her on a mission unless it she must. And she would only feel she must if she were short on veterans to assist with a team strike… or her Assets made contact.
Naho was not blind to the possible developments, nor the most likely one as her wrist burned.
Shikamaru's eyes widened at the dark expression coating her face, and she struggled to reign in her menacing aura. It was not their fault. These people did not know what Hakkar meant to her. Still, there was only so much control she could exhibit.
Swallowing, the Nara managed a level, "Aa."
Naho's eyes didn't shake that hard exterior, nor did her posture slacken as she turned her back. She inhaled a deep breath. "Let us resume, then. We should not keep Hokage-sama waiting."
Shikamaru noted, as she used the Shunshin no Jutsu to flicker away, her speech had been enunciated impeccably and clipped just as Kurenai-Sensei mentioned. Funny how inconsequential facts popped into his head in useless times. He sighed, mumbling incoherently as he followed the unstable lady.
Asuma-Sensei had to be out of his mind to think that she could replace him as their captain of Team 10.
He wagered that she didn't even know what a shogi board looked like.
Entering the Hokage Tower, Shikamaru stuffed his hands in his pocket. He took his time on the stairs, sensing that Hosokawa had already entered Hokage-sama's office and he could already imagine the trouble he'd hear-
"Come in, Shikamaru. I was just going to brief Team 10 on your mission."
Calculating, she stood on the far end beside Choji, waiting for Shikamaru to join the set. Her deep eyes betrayed nothing as she glanced at the boy as if she hadn't just intimidated him in the middle of the street, straying to the Yamanaka and Akamichi as the Nara ambled inside. He closed the door behind him, eying the Hosokawa distrustfully.
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Tsunade did not mince words, her eyes grazing all four figures before resting on Naho.
"Four days ago," the only ex ANBU in the room ground her teeth at the word four, "we received word that a potentially valuable asset was threatened by the Akatsuki. I'm sending this squad to suppress that threat, or retrieve the target."
She could feel discomfort radiated from her left. "A-Ah, Hokage-sama…" Quirking a brow, the masterful iryō-nin focused her gaze on the pale blonde. Naho, too, turned slightly.
"Yes?"
"What if the asset is already…"
Naho stared plainly.
Tsunade, noticing her discomfort from Naho's unrelenting focus, commandeered the Shinobi's attention. "If that is the case, Nahoko has been prepared for situations such as these." The brunette slowly turned her sharp gaze to meet hard brown eyes. "You will act accordingly as a temporary addition to Team 10, Nahoko. Shikamaru will act as Captain." She briskly tossed her a scroll, which Naho snatched nimbly. "He knows the team's strengths and weaknesses and has already been briefed on some of your strengths. With that, he has been able to create some form of formation."
"…Understood."
She nodded, "You're all dismissed. Get some rest. I want you gone before dawn."
Naho couldn't help but hear the unspoken words this is time sensitive and twist her lips, remaining in her spot as the younger Shinobi bowed and made for the exit. She turned her head slightly as the Nara once again made eye contact with her, but she merely offered her neutral gaze before addressing Tsunade-sama.
"Can you spare a moment?"
The door clicked shut as the teenagers filed out. "If this is about the hierarchy of the mission-"
"It's not."
She watched elder blonde blink.
Honestly, if Naho were in her position, she'd expect a fight from her, too. Their relationship was tumultuous at best and Naho was clearly the higher caliber Shinobi in the pickings, if they were judging solely on combative ability. Naho had to trust that that was not the only factor deciding Captainship, though, and leave it be. She was back in Konoha. She had put faith in her village. She was not alone anymore.
It was not take care of yourself out there, no one else will.
"What is it, then?"
Her face pulled, and in that moment her heart sped up and the room warmed and all she had to ask was about her ribs. Ask her to heal her ribs.
Come on.
It was a simple request, asking her to balm her likely bruised rib and wrap it for the mission, but the thought of Tsunade's hands glowing an ethereal blue, creating a fist and shattering her maxillary wall…
She visibly recoiled. One graze with that potent chakra was all it had taken.
"Ahh… nothing. I wanted to ask about Sarutobi Asuma's recovery, is all."
Tsunade frowned down at her desk, almost glaring at her paperwork before directing a curious eye at her former student. "I heard that you hadn't visited yet. He's awake and responsive, Naho, but I don't think that's what you should be worrying about right now."
The brunette nodded dazedly, bowed a perfect ninety-degree angle with a wince, and rose with grace. "Absolutely, Hokage-sama. I'll be on my way."
Tsunade's eyes followed her back as she rounded on the door, frowning when she placed a hand on her side on her way out, expression pinched. Had ROOT gotten to her?
No…
"Naho."
"Yes," her voice echoed without an inflection, her hand on the door but her body turning to attention.
Naho had always been harder to deal with than Shizune, and later, Sakura. Her questions didn't sound like questions at all, something that irritated Tsunade immensely in their former years together. Her flat expression and expectant eyes- she expected greatness from her deceased mother's comrade and Tsunade hadn't been able to deliver, scarred and shattered as she had been. Naho didn't miss the slightest detail, had even the gall to correct a diagnosis here or there, and she was eager and ready and Tsunade doubted her so very harshly.
Maybe that's why she had failed the kid- she never thought too hard on it until Nahoko's return because, really, why beat a dead horse?
Or a defenseless child?
Clearing her throat with a hardened eye and stern set to her brow at that rampant, toxic thought, Tsunade nodded her off.
"Look after them."
The Yamanaka didn't have an answer for Naho's damaged chakra coils yet, and it required more time and study with Inoichi to reach a definitive diagnosis and timeline. She ignored the nauseous roll her stomach gave when Naho nodded before slipping out, disregarding that poisonous whisper in her head that maliciously reminded her that she was letting an ill kunoichi face a combative threat.
In that moment, she made a fine Kage. She thought, however, that did not justify her poor moment as a medic.
/~/
She slid the back door of her home closed, rolling her stiff neck as she exhaled softly. Akino had wanted to remain outside near the hydrangeas, so it was only her quiet footsteps padding along in the dark as she had forgotten to leave a light lit for her late return. Granted, she had only thought she'd be arriving from a spar and it'd still be dusk, not dark from an impromptu meeting and mission assignment from the Hokage.
Flicking the standing lamp in the corner, Naho hummed and hovered a hand over her rib, setting her mind to find some bindings-
"…!"
There, lounging against the furthest wall and therefore the darkest corner of large sitting room, was a spiky mess of white hair and red markings that she started at. She caught a vague movement, "Maa, I didn't mean to frighten you, Naho-chan. The place was open."
She'd heard that laid back tone a handful of times in the last few years to identify the owner. Her eyes adjusted, so much that she caught his hands lowering from his surrendered peace-pose, but she merely turned her back with a muttered, "Open does not mean welcome… rude, senile man…"
She opened a panel from the wall and grasped for her medical supplies that she'd packed away, ignoring his indignant sputtering over her own musings.
"W-What?! Take that back! And to think, I came to see how you're fairing! Ungrateful…"
Naho didn't even spare the dramatics a glance, understanding that Jiraiya-sama's persona was exactly that. He could be quite serious, in fact she'd seen it when she'd offered him second-hand information regarding the third Sannin in their past interactions, but he had a steadfast grip on this goofy, childish mask that he'd insisted on bearing to the world. She did not care to waste energy on humoring it tonight, not after this day.
She continued to search her medkit for the supplies she needed, rifling through the band aids and gauze for the more durable stuff.
"Why would you do that, Jiraiya-sama?"
As for the Toad Sage, he blinked before he looked around at the sparse furnishings of this once warm home. There was nothing save for an old tea table, some neat blanketing, the lit lamp and some candles… truly, this was the home of Uzumaki Shoken? His eyes slid over to Nahoko's back, which lessened in movement. Her chakra seemed… strange.
"Well, Konoha and the Land of Fire has you to thank for its quite extensive spy network. And me, of course."
She hummed. "Of course. But you could have asked me while in town, instead of trespassing on clan grounds."
The Sannin did not sputter again, for which she could have applauded him. She found the bindings she'd been looking for, so she settled from her haunches but kept her back to him. She kept her ears open to his grouching.
"Trespassing? Feh. I knew this room before you were born, kid. Your mom would curse at the lack of décor you keep. And the dust! You let it go to ruin."
Her fingers paused in the act of fiddling with the plastic wrap encasing the sterile cloth, giving her a good glimpse of her prosthetic fingers and their scarred attachment site. She thought about before she'd received the prosthetics and how utterly…
She thought about her year at the Hosokawa compound and a real, genuine tremor shook her shoulders.
"I think, Jiraiya-sama, that my mum would curse about how a lot of things turned out."
She didn't wait for his response; she didn't care to hear his flimsy, could-have/should-have excuses.
"What are you doing here." Her voice may have been a bit harder as she settled fully into a sit, and she finally glanced at him with pursed lips. She caught his half smile, though it wasn't genuine. She vaguely wondered if anything about him was.
"I came to ask for a summons."
"Why do you want my summons when you have capable toads," she asked flatly, busying her hands with her breast wraps before she shirked her shirt.
"Because I need a gas expert, and I know the gators have combined their efforts with yours in the art of subtlety. Plus…" He waggled his brows. "It's a bit wet and dangerous where I'm going. I need a backup plan."
"No. Go away," she deadpanned, shirking her shirt and turning her back to reveal a bruised torso from a damaged rib.
Cracked, then.
"…"
She heard footsteps as she struggled to wrap the bandages tightly, flinching when she grazed the affected area with a cool, mint green palm. She'd hoped to conserve her chakra for the early morning departure, but she'd have to settle for this treatment. She groaned quietly in the back of her throat when the Toad Sage circled around to face her, an uncharacteristically grave expression coating his features in the face of a topless woman.
"You didn't have Tsuna fix this for you?"
Curiosity seemed genuine enough, she supposed.
She closed her eyes as she mended and counted backwards from one hundred by seven. It was classic concussion or traumatic brain injury protocol, but it also worked to focus Naho elsewhere when her nerves fried.
Trust this nosy spy to know she'd just came from Hokage Tower.
"No."
Her mathematics, however, did nothing to help her curt tone.
Jiraiya chewed his lip, frowning. "You should tell her, Nahoko."
Ah, finally he dropped the cutesy honorific. It was very fraying, his insincere address.
"What do you know, Old Man. Coming in this house, acting like you have the right after what you did to this family."
Her voice remained level, only hinted slightly at resignation at past deeds long before she'd been born. She'd just been trying to prod at him to leave her be, but when she felt a creak on the wooden flooring, Naho opened her eyes.
The Toad Sage plopped down with a hunched posture, legs crossed, hands on his knees and head bent forward. She winced as she pulled her hand away from her tender torso, shivering as her chakra abated from her skin and tingled. Reaching for her shirt, she decided to just leave the man alone to whatever he was up to this time-
"I confess… I never thought I'd find myself here, beseeching forgiveness from Shoken's child," his head still bent, Jiraiya did not see Naho's cheek twitch at his words, nor did he see the confusion in her eyes as she shimmed into her shirt.
What the hell was this senile old man going on about? She'd just wanted him to leave.
He continued gravely, "But my previous passions laid waste to an eventual, beautiful family and I can never forgive myself for the spiral that caused your father to descend into and eventually…"
Naho considered the year following the loss of her fingers the worst of her life.
Nearly forced into retirement at seventeen, she lost her natural abilities, her familiar home, her willing friends, and relocated to a very harsh, unrelenting environment known as the main Hosokawa Compound.
The Hosokawa were not known for their warmth and overall sense of ease, but their limitless resources stemming from medicinal advances, political wealth and subtle approach to the market. They were a demanding family to be born to, to be held to such a standard… and to repeatedly report to such a family for so long, it certainly could take a toll on an individual, she had time to consider.
The Hosokawa also gossiped.
She was not full-fledged; she did not demand and take and command loudly with arrogance like many of her so-called family members. She was a noticeable contrast to their loud features with her quiet, affirming logic. She did not know if it started as a means of initiation, or if her cousins were just picking on her, but when she heard the purposefully loud whispers of 'suicide' and 'disgrace' she could ignore them.
Initially.
Over the course of a month, however, the words flowed from her younger cousins to aunties and uncles, respected clan members and Nahoko realized that initiation with these people had never been a thought in their fleeting, tiny minds.
She could only train hard with her mauled hand.
She'd imagined she'd beaten one Hosokawa to death with her maimed extremity for even uttering her Pa's name.
Her gazed refocused on the present when she noticed Jiraiya's hand was still clenched tightly on the wooden paneling of her floor.
She knew, even if she did not particularly care for this one man, that she could not allow for this to continue.
For him to believe that he had been the cause…
"Pa was severely depressed. Almost clinically so."
Jiraiya blinked.
Naho's tongue felt heavy in her mouth, but she pushed forward. She concentrated on the red paint by his eyes. It was unique, nearly beautifully so, and it gave Naho's eyes something to focus upon instead of the budding questioning in the Sannin's eye.
"I've had a lot of time to think back about my family before… and after. With an older perspective and clinical eye, it became clearer. I don't know if that lead to Oka-san straying or… I don't know. But you shouldn't have to carry that around, at least. Pa died because Oka-san's death was too much to bear. Your affair was not the sole fuel to the fire. His grief ultimately killed him, Jiraiya-sama. As Shinobi, we tend to shy away from the mind's ails and forget that illnesses arise within as well. He was not so much dishonored as he was ill."
She patiently observed him lift his head and stare for a moment before he smiled so heartbreakingly, so self-deprecatingly that Naho had to avert her eyes.
"You are still kind, when you should have taken the opportunity to let me fall on my sword, Naho-chan."
"Don't worry. I still find fault. If you hadn't…"
Her eyes glazed, voice shaking as she halted.
Maybe she couldn't talk about this part, because if she thought too hard she could feel a great deal of resentment and rage and utter disappointment bubble to the surface at the mere mentioning of this part.
The part where, if he hadn't had the affair with her mum, maybe Pa wouldn't have felt disgraced by his tyrannical clan. Maybe, from the cold whispers and cruel cackles of the Hosokawa rumor mill, he wouldn't have felt compelled to do absolutely anything necessary to fall into their good graces for his daughter's sake. Maybe he wouldn't have offered his daughter on a perfectly set board to the clan as a form of appeasement, maybe she wouldn't have been fussed over and tufted as a potential bride, and an eventual match to a powerful clan to solidify just the alliance the Hosokawa needed to seed their roots in Konoha for good.
Maybe, if Jiraiya hadn't had the affair with Oka-san, she wouldn't had been roped into an arranged marriage.
Maybe she wouldn't have had to make the scared, lonely decision to disfigure herself to fend off potential suitors and collapse her arrangement.
Maybe… Kakashi and her-
She visibly struggled, balling her fists and shifting her shoulders.
"I can't talk about this. I can't talk about this with you."
"You should talk to someone," he said softly with beseeching eyes, so much that she wondered what her expression looked like.
She wondered that, upon coming home, how unraveled she became at the slightest provocation when in the field she kept it together fine. For years, she calmly worked without this fraying, this wearing into her bones. She'd get tired from surgery and the secrecy, of course, but she did not feel this bone-deep exhaustion of this supposed home.
She considered telling him what she really thought about that.
There is no one. There is no one left that wants to hear this.
Instead she nodded, humoring the Sage in this moment that felt oddly intimate. He nodded to himself, but she opened her mouth before he could utter another word to add to her discomfort.
Honestly.
Turning the conversation to the original subject, Naho quietly cleared her throat. "The summons- I can't promise whoever responds will oblige. They're known for their loafing and irritability if you're foreign, you know. But here you are."
She nicked her finger once again on her stray kunai, wiping it on a procured scroll from her pack before making a series of simple seals and rolling it neatly for the Sage. Because Jiraiya did not have a contract with the Furusawa alligators, he could activate this scroll containing her blood within the time limit she set (seventy-two hours) and virtually summon a random pick. She could not promise it would be a useful companion, as she could think of at least six that could show up and leave just at the sight of a non-contract summons, but she did what she could for the once-allied spymaster.
"I wish you luck with your endeavor…"
She observed a different grin split his lips this time, softer around the edges of his mouth yet still a bit feral and playful, and she wasn't altogether comfortable with it aimed at her but she accepted it anyways.
"What a soft-hearted kid you turned out to be, Naho-chan."
"Just return them in one piece, please."
She cattily ignored his cheeky salute and the subsequent whine he had uttered at said deflection. And upon his chatty departure, she desperately tried to ignore the potted snapdragon he had somehow left behind, his gesture tugging deeply on strings long dormant in her chest.
There were not many days that Kakashi felt like this.
"Really, I'm a coward, Hatake. There is absolutely no need to cover my eyes anymore. I will not visit the Hidden Leaf again!"
The silver-haired nin swallowed an irritated sigh, resisting the bait from the Kumogakure iryō-nin. Nodding curtly at the nin stationed beside their escort, Kakashi nearly rolled his eyes when the blindfold fell and Hamase sighed loudly with relief.
"A surgeon's eyes are his most vital tool, well… I guess aside from his hands. I was getting a little panicky there!"
"Security protocol. You understand, Hamase-san," Yamato's flat voice drifted across the campsite, causing the medic to stiffen.
A sudden breeze, originating from the former ANBU, chilled the air.
"Yes… of course…"
Kakashi turned back to the trees, stifling a smirk when he caught a glimpse of Tenzo's trademark 'Ghoul Eyes' directed at Hamase. This kid had no mettle. He couldn't help but think that, true, a surgeon's hands were their most vital tool, but Naho had certainly managed without a fully-able one for years. He also imagined that she wouldn't whine this much on a mission.
"Kakashi-Sensei… this guy's gonna blow our chance to get Sasuke before we can get rid of him!"
Kakashi sighed this time as he turned to his student. "We still have Sasuke's scent, Naruto. We're following the trail, but we need to rest for the night. Hamase-san's drop is soon."
"But Sensei-!"
"NARUTO!"
He eye-smiled when Sakura decked him for his back-talk, soon the rest of the teenagers encouraging the blonde that the trail was still fresh.
"I'm sure Akino would agree. The trail is fresh," Pakkun's voice pitched from his left, causing him to peer at the knowing look on the ninken's face. He was silent for a beat, considering his response. He did not want to delve into that meddled territory and ponder why he left a perfectly helpful tracker in Konoha with Naho when he knew he was of better use here.
"Aa."
"Where is Akino, anyways? I thought we were one short."
"Unavailable for this mission," came his short response, earning a quizzical look from Yamato.
He ignored it. He also ignored the stray thought of Naho and Akino, wondering if she had discovered his personal summons yet.
"Try to get some rest, everyone. Tomorrow we push."
He'd agreed to take the first watch, with Yamato taking the second into the early hours.
Silently composing himself, the Jonin jumped into a higher position, perching himself on the branch for a better vantage. He momentarily closed his eyes and allowed a second of peace, trying to rid himself of the last image he had of Naho sitting at that outdoor table, curling in on herself.
Years ago, he had thought she didn't have what it took to be ANBU. She didn't have the skill, the drive, the darkness. She couldn't lie.
"I am responsible for… I caused…"
He rolled his shoulder, recalling the severity of their failed mission with a dull pit in the bottom of his stomach. His arm recovered without any difficulties and there was only a faded scar to show for his troubles, but what Naho had lost…
He looked down at his flesh-colored fingers, considering the extent of his abilities with the Sharingan if he lacked one hand.
The loss…
How… how far they had both come, it seemed.
/~/
The night passed without incident. Morning, however, painted a different picture.
The Inuzuka boy led the group as his sense of smell was the strongest, pulling over Kakashi's ninken with his clan specialty. The two teams moved swiftly through the forest in formation, pursuing the static scent until the Inuzuka perked, alarmed.
Kakashi noticed immediately, but his student was placed beside him in formation and demanded before he could.
"What's wrong, Kiba?"
The wolf-like teenager grimaced, "We're in trouble! Sasuke's on the move!"
Kakashi compressed his lips beneath his mask when Naruto started. "We gotta hurry! He's probably going straight for Itachi!"
There was, only what he could describe as, a sudden vacuum of chakra on their left flank, closest to him and Sakura.
"Easy! Something's not quite right! Sasuke's scent just split up! It's going all over the place in a lot of different directions!"
He smelled the faint, pungent scent of smoke before a faint tsk reached his enhanced hearing.
"That does sound unfortunate."
His voice was rough, commanding, and maybe a little bit harsh, "Stop!" Their formation came to a stand-still, immediately bunching defensively as he braced himself for a confrontation. The voice had tickled his ear, yet he hadn't detected their presence until the very last second. Scanning the area, his eye landed on the angular form of a woman, who had distanced herself with her palms up slightly before relaxing.
He could feel Naruto vibrating from here. "OI-!"
"Who are you?" Kakashi controlled the situation, stepping forward almost menacingly. He tilted his headband up to reveal the Sharingan, causing the chestnut-haired woman to sneer. The expression pulled at an unbecoming scar deep in her cheek. To accompany that, she gave a sarcastic bow, the scar on her face twisting.
"I'm your drop point to escort Hamase Rokuto back to Iwasaki General," she rose fluidly, tiny crow's feet around her eyes telling Kakashi this woman squinted far too often. "Hosokawa Vera at your service."
"Kakashi-Senpai…" The warning in Yamato's tone was not unfounded, as Kakashi's eye spotted it, too.
A Kirigakure hitai-ate glinted maliciously from her upper arm, tied securely around her artery and pinch point- she had some medical knowledge. What was more important, however, was the bold strike slashing her village's symbol, speaking volumes for the Konoha Shinobi present.
"Ahh," Hamase stuttered, making himself known the first time that morning. His suave voice was uncertain for the first time, and that would have given the silver-haired nin a visceral pleasure in any other situation, but for now it passed straight through his filter. Kakashi narrowed his eye, but it was Yamato that voiced his opinion.
"You have some nerve appearing before such a large squad of ninja all geared to take out a missing nin."
Kakashi could see the woman who called herself Hosokawa eye the two teams, unimpressed.
"You seem busy. I am simply here to take him off your hands."
Something about her speech was familiar to him, the enunciation, the way she held herself. She was rigid, hands folded behind her back before she brought one up and there lie a strange, eerily familiar tattoo on her inner wrist. Her hair was even familiar- the style, the color and texture.
Hosokawa.
"What relation are you to Hosokawa Nahoko?"
It seemed to catch her off guard, his abrupt question. He watched her eye slice to his position in a heartbeat, her mouth compress tightly and her foot move forward yet defensively.
Hm.
That was a reaction.
"I am her elder cousin!"
Kakashi knew two things at this point.
1. Sasuke's scent was dispersing fast and 2. Hamase Rokuto could heal if injured.
They needed to move. Exhaling deeply, the ex ANBU captain closed his eyes briefly, knowing the calculated risk he considered.
We will not know unless we face the trauma, Kakashi.
He knew that he cared about this mission outcome as much as he wanted to trust his instincts regarding this Hosokawa rogue- how her mannerisms resembled Naho's in the three minutes of observance that he had been allotted. She had amassed a network of people out there; who was to say how many were in her collection? Did he believe in Naho's ten years of hard work in this very moment? Was this one of her people?
Did he believe in her?
"Let him go."
His eye didn't leave the woman's, which had discarded him in favor for the Kumo medic.
"Kakashi-Sensei?"
"We have another objective. We're losing time. Hamase-san will be fine," his eye then slid to the medic's, which conveyed all sorts of nerves, "I'm sure Naho secured something."
Yamato blinked, releasing the Kumo nin from his custody to gaze at his former captain.
His brow was pulled when the rogue retrieved the medic, nodding sharply at the group before saluting lightly. "For now, Konoha." She hooked her elbow onto the medic's, grimacing, and abruptly created nine seals-
"They're gone!" She had all but dissipated in a patch of black smoke.
Kakashi did not want to stick around to think about the repercussions of his decision to hand over a foreign Shinobi to a rogue nin.
"Let's move. Sasuke's group must've noticed us and came up with a plan to fool our senses."
Sakura, who had picked up formation as soon as Kakashi started running, gasped. "How could they possibly have-?"
"I have no idea. My guess would be they have an extremely talented chakra-sensing type Shinobi on their side."
He heard their voices, but a rebellious thought struck Kakashi that Naho as a teenager was an abysmal sensor.
Had he just remembered that?
He blinked as Naruto's Mass Shadow Clone Jutsu flooded the forest in front, listening as his student declared his intention to look everywhere at once. His mouth nearly twitched into a smirk with pride. That's it, Naruto.
They'd push onward, as he'd already remembered where he'd seen that tattoo on the rogue's wrist before. It had been against crisp white sheets as he held the return of a ghost's hand as she recovered from a carotid stroke, listening to the uncomfortable lull of her heart monitor and smelling pomegranates against the sting of the sterile hospital room.
That tattoo lie on Naho's wrist as well.
