interludes: crescendo

(Sometimes a flash of hopelessness, and Luna would feel her heart clench.)

*I*I*

They weren't a team, not yet, too new to themselves and each other—Katsuki still scowled as he was forced to work with them, Tsukiko was still odd in that undefinable way, and he… he was still civilian, was still desperate, and it showed. But they were smoothing out, becoming more of a whole than three disparate objects, and so he was glad.

Shigeto-sensei was tired, most of the time. He moved with an air of infinite exhaustion, and Hideshi wondered what uncaring higher up had assigned a clearly reluctant (competent) jonin to become babysitter to three genin when he definitely did not want them. That wasn't to say that he did not teach—no, Shigeto-sensei taught ridiculously well, and Hideshi could feel himself improving, his movements becoming more and more fluid and natural, but the man didn't want them.

(He hated the feeling, the sense that he was a burden on top of many other burdens, and it drove him to push his body to its limits to be recognized—we are your team, Sensei.)

Tensions were still high in the village, the Hyuuga Affair and the Kyuubi's attack kept them constantly on edge, paranoid and waiting for the slightest hint of trouble. Their D-ranks consisted of ferrying paperwork across the divisions (Hideshi remembered T&I, remembered the echoes of screams—he shuddered, and wondered if their sensei had perhaps planned it), volunteering at the hospital (he had retched the first time he smelled the overwhelming scent of blood—there had been a team brought in, a bloody hole where there had once been an arm, they had to clean the floor; short staffed, the hospital had run down from Tsunade's era, and there was some pervasive hint of exhaustion, some surrender to the neverending work), and working in the fields, carrying produce and tilling the fields.

(It was all essential work; they were still building up the shinobi reserves, still attempting to project strength—deterrence, not that the policy had ever worked well for shinobi. They knew too well that even the strongest fell to luck, that one did not need direct combat—the right application of force at a precise moment could cause collapse.)

Still, there was something missing, the hyperawareness that would allow them as a team to fit as perfectly coordinated dancers.

(Teams were forged through trust—the kind that sunk in bone-deep, finding yourself shielding them with a snarl forming on your face—they hadn't known it then, hadn't known how irreversible this process of shedding blood was…)

It was their second C-rank that both shattered and reformed their team, and Hideshi didn't know whether to be grateful or to curse at the kind of world that allowed such heart-stopping terror to bleed through thought and freeze limbs.

C-ranks weren't so different from D-ranks—they were still ferrying papers, the only difference being the scenery.

This close to home, there was hardly any risk of anything happening. Bandits tended to stay away from attacking shinobi, and enemy-nin wouldn't be seen this close to Konoha—it was not war, and no one wanted to be the instigator. Still, somehow, halfway there (exactly halfway—he had come back, much later, to that disastrous mission, pinpointed it on the map and calculated the distance—twenty-eight and three-fourths kilometers from Konoha, twenty-eight and three fourths to the base—he had shivered then, some suspicion of a looming shadow, an enormous force—), they had been attacked.

A slight stiffening of Sensei's form. That was all the warning they had.

In a space in between heartbeats, Sensei had flashed in front of them, knocking both Tsukiko and Katsuki back into himself. A screeching cream of metal on metal. Then they traded blows, Shigeto-sensei and his attacker, too fast now to pinpoint, and he couldn't move.

Shock. It was shock and killing intent. The realization came with great clarity.

(—remember the red haze, the glaring orange of the flames as they spread, remember the Fox, remember the terror—)

The air was thick and poisonous, weighing thought and movement down to increments. Tsukiko struggled to her knees and stood, and he wondered dimly how she could lift herself when the amount of intent in the air was crippling.

In another flash, the quiet was stifling, interspersed with slithering crashes, and Sensei was down, clutching his chest, red ribbons of blood flowing freely—

And Tsukiko was there, abruptly, rooted, as if she had always been there, and her eyes were spinning, spinning red, and somehow, Hideshi found the strength to stand again. But the enemy had vanished, as if they weren't worth his time—vanished, and so had their message, the papers.

Katsuki snarled from besides him; he'd also gotten up and was half-crouched, a kunai in his hand, and a shallow cut across his arm. Hideshi watched in slow fascination as crimson dripped, languid, into the ground.

But it wasn't over.

(of course. they were loose ends, weren't they? collateral damage—it was nothing personal)

Two other nin emerged from the shadows, grins slashed across their faces, and Hideshi cursed. Katsuki attacked immediately, frustration lining his form. Reckless—he thought back too the day they'd introduced themselves, saw the scowl on his teammate's face—goddammit Katsuki, what are you doing?!

Then Tsukiko moved, receiving a slash aimed at Katsuki's unprotected back—there were two, Katsuki, didn't you account for it when you threw yourself into their arms? we are a team—and Hideshi was jolted into action. He waited for an opening—I'm trembling, how odd—and sprinted forward into their first defensive formation—the formation drilled into their behavior by Sensei's relentless training.

It was not clean—as far from Academy spars as one could get—every movement was filled with the desperation of the overwhelmed, strategy held no place in the brawl for survival, just reaction-action-reaction—he raised his kunai just in time to block a downward strike with the long dagger that one of his opponents held, and the impact almost drove him to his knees. But he saw another slash aimed at his ribs—too slow—and a blinding pain in his arm as he tried to ward off the killing strike. Tsukiko moved to cover him, Sharingan blazing—he wondered blearily when she had received it—and their opponent dropped, a genjutsu weaving through the air and distorting sound and balance. She stumbled, the illusion leeching her chakra reserves, and sluggishly blocked an angry blow from the other enemy-nin, who'd turned from engaging Katsuki (their teammate was bleeding from his leg, his chest, and Hideshi couldn't do anything), to them as soon as he'd realized his partner had fallen.

Hideshi was almost calm with the cold rage burning through his mind. He shunted the pain aside—this was more important, this was survival—and threw a brace of kunai—the aim off because the the awkward angle and his broken right arm (thank kami he was left-handed)—but it was close enough—their opponent was close enough—that it didn't matter. One of the kunai grazed Tsukiko's shoulder and hit the man's throat—he watched in excruciating detail as the kunai ripped through the airway and he and Tsukiko became drenched with blood.

(this was the image that would haunt him through all of his subsequent dreams—even after becoming desensitized to killing, the vulnerability of their team, the helplessness, the desperation would keep him jerking awake at night, sweat staining the bed)

His eyes slipped closed, blood loss finally rendering him unconscious.

*I*I*

They were lucky.

(Three of Katsuki's ribs were shattered, his leg broken, and there was some internal bleeding. Tsukiko had sustained light injures, a few deep cuts and severe chakra exhaustion. Hideshi had the tendons in his arm severed and the bone broken into seven parts—the nurses said that if he hadn't unconsciously pushed chakra into the arm [burning out several tenketsu points] the sword might have amputated it from his body. Shigeto-sensei had massive internal hemorrhaging, and if the Konoha jonin team hadn't been passing by, also exhausted after completing their mission, he might not have made it.)

They were still alive.

When they were all finally released from the hospital—Hideshi first, then Tsukiko under observation and with the firm "no training" rule, and finally Shigeto-sensei and Katsuki—when they all gathered at Training Ground 26, when Sensei said I had a genin team before with grief-stricken, guilty eyes, Hideshi thought he finally understood.

(We are your team, Sensei.)

*I*I*

They fit seamlessly now—broken, but holding each other's pieces. (And on the worst days, Hideshi would wonder bleakly if it was worth it—when his right arm ached, when he saw spinning red in his teammate's eyes, when Katsuki's breathing changed and became labored, but he was grateful still [were they lucky?] that they had each other.)

A month after they'd recovered, Shigeto-sensei brought them to a weapons store. He'd told them bluntly that he was paying, his eyes dark, and Team Four let him (they recognized the look, guilt and regret—they themselves wore its too heavy burden). He allowed them to browse, but chose for them: Katsuki received tonfas, Tsukiko, a pair of short swords (almost long daggers), and Hideshi, a brace of throwing knives (different from kunai in their weight and impact) and fine wire.

They learned to used them, and perhaps more importantly, how to fight as shinobi—manipulating any situation and making the split-second decisions even overwhelmed by panic. Team Four grew closer, predicting each other's movements and covering their teammates' weaknesses. Tsukiko was a close to mid-range fighter—her taijutsu grew and evolved with her swords as her reach lengthened. With her Sharingan, she wasn't limited to a few styles of fighting, and her strength was in uncertainty—switching between offensive and defensive moves, at once graceful and jarring, she was unpredictable and never let a fight fall into a rhythm that let her opponent relax. In addition, she could step back from a fight, and with space construct elaborate genjutsus with the Sharingan. Katsuki excelled in hand-to-hand, the blunt force that barreled through enemies. He was the strongest of their team and usually led their attack. With a chakra affinity in earth, he used the ground to slow down attack, and instead of formal ninjutsu, simply sunk his chakra into the earth softening and hardening both to help him move and deter his enemy. Hideshi prefered to stay back from a fight—he was their strategist. He used his throwing knives, attaching the wires in order to draw them back to himself. Their edges were serrated to dig into flesh and hold, and when he pulled the wire, often their opponents would be caught off balance, even if the knives had only cut fabric. He also had the highest accuracy of Team Four with projectile weapon. Hideshi had begun experimenting with poisons to coat the edges of his knives, giving Tsukiko and Katsuki antidotes, in case they were ever injured by his offensive.

They had their weaknesses, of course. But they knew them, and they were a team. While they couldn't hold their own against a jonin individually, together they could at least deter them long enough to escape with little to no heavy injuries, and depending on the skill level of the jonin, they could subdue them. (They still couldn't beat Shigeto-sensei, but they were getting better at evading his more devastating attacks.)

Team Four took their Chuunin Exams in Kusa. They were promoted after reaching the second tier of the third part of the Exams.

(Sensei looked grim as he told them—be careful, be wary, you are now responsible for your wellbeing, for not letting them break you, for protecting each other, do not die—and they understood it was not an honor, but a burden they were willing to bear for their village.)

*I*I*

In the mornings, Luna liked to look up at her ceiling and remember a one similar to it that existed in a different dimension. There it had been Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry and friends repeated through golden chains. Here, in a violent world where peace was fleeting and bonds were forged of blood, kazoku held the portraits together. Centered were pictures of her parents and her brothers, Sasuke's newly added as his face gained definition and character. Shisui was a little further off, but still close. To their right was Minato (tell them) and Kushina, bright yellow and red intertwining, and connected to them was Hatake Kakashi, who was only lightly sketched, only a ghost yet. Below her family, her team, Shigeto-sensei, eyes shadowed and sad, but never defeated; Hideshi, the Eadocha on his shoulder; Katsuki, scowl on his face but eyes bright and fond.

Often, in the mornings, Luna let tears slip down her face. Tears were important (mum had always told her she was allowed to cry, as long as she also remembered to smile) and when the memories made her feel very sad, she reminded herself that it was alright to be sad and to cry.

*I*I*

"Could you tell him we loved him?"

There were shadows that prevented her from approaching the young sun. Luna frowned at the guards, at the gentle deterrence and redirection. Well, if she couldn't get close to him, she'd find someone who could.

He was only almost five now, any note left for him would be vetted and taken away, and he probably couldn't read anyway. Better to find someone who was trustworthy who could pass along the message. Better to find someone who wouldn't be watched as she was watched. So Luna observed, flashes of bright blond, movements in the corner of her eyes—the guards did not notice her when she didn't approach directly.

A few months after she'd begun her subtle observation, she had picked out the ramen stand.

"Would you like to have dinner together?"

It was after a training session—they still occasionally met with Shigeto-sensei though their team had been split, Sensei going back to solo A-ranks and Team Four taking on harder and harder missions. (They met to show each other that they were alive, that they were well.)

Hideshi looked at her curiously, but Katsuki grinned and agreed immediately. They followed her as she brought them around to Ichiraku Ramen.

Katsuki snickered when he saw the name. "Kiko, I didn't know held ramen in such high regard."

"I don't. This is my first time here."

"Then why did you choose this place?"

"The Heliopaths were congregating there."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course."

They ducked inside and ordered, Katsuki instantly inhaling the noodles, a quick itadakimasu dropping from his lips. Hideshi looked around, curious and assessing, before his own itadakimasu sounded and he dug in. Luna beamed at the cook, who hadn't looked at her with suspicious eyes (how odd, he didn't seem to be infested with Wrackspurts like the rest of Konoha. Nasty things, Wrackspurts.) He seemed eminently trustworthy.

Hideshi noticed her interest in the owner and leaned over. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with the blond pariah that you've been keeping an eye on?"

Luna took a sip of her soup, her widening smile the only indication of her answer.

A sigh. "Be careful, will you? He holds the interest of the Council." (Hideshi had seen the ANBU intervene more than once when a drunken civilian had expressed hostility. He didn't have much of an opinion of the Kyuubi's container, just a general wariness at the power the small blond contained, but the ANBU were another thing altogether. ANBU meant that someone important was involved, and it was best to steer clear of any sort of interest from those in charge of a Hidden Village. A good shinobi stayed unnoticed.)

"I will." Luna sobered, eyes pained and remembering.

"Hey! This is actually really good!"

Their loud teammate had already finished his bowl and was ordering more. Hideshi raised an eyebrow at Luna. She smiled ruefully. "I did say I'd pay."

Katsuki whooped.

*I*I*

Later in the day, when a small boy dressed in eye-blinding orange burst into the ramen stand and ordered what he always ordered, Teuchi leaned forward over the counter and whispered a secret to the boy.

"Naruto, I was told to pass along a message to you."

"Really?! What is it?"

"It's a secret—are you sure that you will be able to keep it?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Okay, this person asked me to not tell you who they were, but they wanted you to know that your parents loved you."

*I*I*

(Sometimes, Luna choked on the swirling desolation in the Compound.)

Her brother smiled less and less now. He no longer had time for spars or training—he had been accepted into the grey ranks and Luna felt dread as he faded from her life (the same panic that she'd felt in another lifetime, but this time prolonged). Sasuke had felt it too, and he learned to stop asking after Itachi, because even when he was at home, he was exhausted.

Instead her younger brother turned to her. Which, in turn, led to his introduction to her team.

"Oi, who's the brat?"

"Hmmm?" Luna looked up from her sketchbook and stared at Katsuki a bit too long to be comfortable. It was one of those slow days, and they were just wandering around Konoha after a brief training session. "Oh, that's my brother."

"Why's he following us?"

Luna blinked and turned back to her sketchbook. Sasuke moved a half-step closer to his sister and scowled at the older boy.

"Hey! Tsukiko, answer me!"

Hideshi sighed, snapping a thick text on economic principles shut. "Katsuki, give it a rest. Sasuke isn't bothering us. Go find something to do if you're so bored."

"How do you know his name?"

"I've met him before."

Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the five year old, who promptly glared back.

"How am I the only one who doesn't know your family?"

Hideshi looked up from putting his book into his bag, apparently giving up on reading. "It's because you never visit her home."

"She's never invited me!"

"She's never invited me either."

Katsuki threw up his hands in exasperation. "I'm surrounded by socially-inept idiots who think that they're fine!"

"Don't call Nee-san an idiot! You're an idiot!"

Luna looked at Katsuki very sternly. "Yes, that wasn't very nice."

Katsuki let out a muffled scream.

In time, Team Four became accustomed to Sasuke's presence (or rather, Katsuki did; the others had already been fine with it) and in between missions, they fell into the comfortable routine of familiarity, interspersed with bickering between Katsuki and Sasuke. (Hideshi sighed as they began arguing for the third time that day. "Honestly, Katsuki, are you five?") It was, if not a good time, at least a relaxing one. ("Katsuki?" "What?" "Did you give my brother a pike?" "...pike? What pike?" crash "That pike." "Actually...I just...forgot...that I need to...gotta go!")

A/N: The last of the interludes (finally)—

I didn't get around to describing Luna's genin team, so without further adieu…

Fujino Hideshi: Reddish brown hair, lighter skin (not quite as pale as the Uchiha though), slender build and average height, light muted top and dark bottom with his hitai-ate on his arm, civilian

Hiraide Katsuki: Dark brown spiky hair, dark eyes and tanned, sharp features, tall, built solidly, muted light green shirt and dark grey shorts, hitai-ate around his forehead, arms and legs covered in a protective layer of bandages, shinobi family

Both Hideshi and Katsuki are two to three years older than Tsukiko

Matsuo Shigeto: Grim, grey-brown hair and dark blue eyes, craggy, seems taller than he actually is, has presence, several faded scars on his face and hands—the only parts not covered by the standard jounin uniform, has a sword and several other weapons, about twenty-six

A note on the Academy—I have no idea how the Rookie Nine's team structures were chosen, but I took the artistic liberty of putting Luna's team together based on initial skill sets and Academy compatibility. While one can't precisely determine how a student will do in the field or what their strengths will be, it makes sense to create well-rounded teams who can work with each other. So Hideshi, who showed promise in projectile weapons, Katsuki, who was clearly taijutsu oriented, and Luna with the Sharingan-enhanced genjutsu would be able to balance each other out and be compatible for a wide range of missions. In addition, one of their personalities directly clash—sure, Katsuki's abrasive, but Hideshi's quiet, and Luna on principle doesn't hate anybody. I'm also assuming that after the Kyuubi's attack, since these interludes are in the few years after that event, there was a lack of shinobi in the field and so teams that could do generally well with any task were more in demand than specialist teams (like the Ino-Shika-Cho triad) because Konoha simply doesn't have the manpower to allow a team to only take certain missions.

I'm doing too much analysis on this, aren't I? Anyhow, here's a small glimpse of Team Four's mothers.

Luna (Tsukiko):

Uchiha Mikoto doesn't care about the scene she's making as she storms into the hospital, killing intent clearing a wide path to her daughter's hospital room. Her hands curl into fists when she see Tsukiko unconscious.

No one dares approach her for the rest of the day.

*I*I*

Hideshi:

She comes in still and silent. When she sees him, her son, there are loud, ugly sobs. Her son just turns away, and the sobs grow louder.

*I*I*

Katsuki:

"Brat. Be careful."

Her voice is worry, is regret. The absence beside her is heavy and kept unspoken of.