Rating: T

Warnings: Hungover!Kakashi, smitten!Ino, more Kurama angst, some Tsunade angst (for variety), slight language, etc.

Word Count: ~4500

Pairings mentioned: Kakashi/Kurama.

A/N: Hopefully no one thinks I'm too harsh to Tsunade here. Don't get me wrong, I adore her, and in a series that's sadly lacking in kickass female characters she's always been one of the most awesome and a personal favorite. However, her not adopting/taking in Naruto is a bit of a head-scratcher for me, given that she and Kushina are directly related. It bugs me and always has, because Tsunade is the type to value family regardless of her bitterness, and no explanation was ever given as to why not. Argh. *wards off plot bunnies*

It must be said, I love you all. You're wonderful. I honestly don't think this story would have gotten half as far as it has without some of the awesome feedback I've received. I know I don't tend to reply to reviews, but I appreciate them wholeheartedly, believe me.

backslide

Chapter Twenty-Five: Family

Returning to consciousness is only slightly less painful than that time he got run over by a stampede of crazed women aiming to castrate Jiraiya-sama. Kakashi—wisely—doesn't make any attempt to open his eyes, curling deeper into his blankets with a tiny, pathetic whimper. Even that makes his head threaten to split at the seams, and he stays perfectly still to keep it from doing so, barely even daring to breathe.

There's a soft huff of laughter, and it's only then that Kakashi's finely honed ninja senses kick in to tell him there's an intruder in his apartment. Honestly, Kakashi is hoping they're an enemy here to release him from this torment.

"Kakashi." That's definitely Kurama's aggravated sigh, and Kakashi distinctly remembers his presence at the bar last night. In fact, he remembers Kurama knocking back at least three times the amount that he and Asuma managed. And yet the redhead sounds entirely normal, not even a quaver in his voice to mark the presence of the hangover he must have. "Kakashi, if you can't hold your liquor, or deal with the aftereffects, why the hell did you challenge me to a drinking contest?"

That's close enough to slander that Kakashi forces himself to pick up the wet noodle that is apparently his arm and level a finger in the direction he assumes Kurama is in. It's possible that the gesture would be more threatening if he were able to open his eyes, but Kakashi's experienced enough hangovers to know that that's a Bad Idea. "Hey. I can hold my liquor. I can hold lots of liquor. Lots."

"As I'm sure your bar tab will reflect," Kurama says, the amusement clear in his voice, and a moment later a cool glass is being pressed into his hand, his fingers firmly wrapped around it as a hand fondly brushes his hair out of his face. "Drink. You're worse than useless like this."

"Coffee?" Kakashi asks hopefully, even though he has a sinking, sneaking suspicion that it's not. Unless Kurama is feeling cruel enough to give him cold coffee, which—well, the man has fox summons and is related to Naruto. He wouldn't put it past him.

A snort makes his head throb. "Hardly. Alcohol make you dehydrated, and so does coffee. It's probably the absolute worst thing to have after drinking. This is juice, to raise your blood sugar and replace the water you lost. Drink."

"Spoken like someone who hasn't had a hangover recently," Kakashi grumbles, but chugs the juice in the hopes it will settle his gently rolling stomach. He has a vague memory of hunching over the toilet at some point last night, so he assumes there's nothing left to come back up.

"Try never. I told you last night, I can't get drunk. Hardcore binge-drinking barely even leaves me tipsy." The glass is plucked from his hand and whisked away to parts that will remain unknown, since Kakashi still refuses to open his eyes.

Kakashi's mind makes a valiant attempt to grasp this concept of no hangovers, ever, and then gives up with a pathetic squelch and drops back into hibernation. Kakashi agreeably follows it, laying back down and dragging his blankets up over his face. "Argh. Hate you so much."

Kurama laughs, and when Kakashi cracks an eye open just the barest fraction, he's wearing that Kurama-trademark smile that's unrepentantly wicked in the same moment that it's as innocent as a summer sky. The Copy-Nin eyes it for a moment, then tugs the blankets up a little higher in self-defense and mutters, "I'm surprised you didn't march in here banging pots, Kurama. Getting mellow in your old age?"

A part of his nearly liquefied brain reminds him that it might not be smart to taunt a known prankster—or at very least the relative of not one, but two—while he's practically defenseless, but, as is ever the case with his common sense, Kakashi shuts it out and ignores it.

"I thought about it," Kurama admits shamelessly, flitting around Kakashi's room with inhuman grace as he straightens it, and making Kakashi's hangover ten times worse through mere proximity to his cheer and energy. "But then the Hokage told me that since he's shorthanded with the Chuunin Exams so close, I'm being sent to pick up reports from the southwestern border patrols. Meaning that you have a team meeting to get to in, oh, forty-five minutes."

That beaming smile is made entirely of concentrated evil, Kakashi is sure of it.

When Ino comes downstairs for breakfast, there's an unfamiliar jounin standing with her father, a scroll open between them. She pauses on the stairs, studying the red-haired man with interest, because he's certainly handsome. Scarred, but then again most shinobi are, and his wealth of deep, coal-red hair, like garnets in the sun, is more than enough to draw the eye. It's back in a loose braid that trails over his shoulder, strands of it caught underneath the strap of a blue-wrapped sword strapped across his back. His jounin vest is open, showing off a leanly muscled torso just barely concealed by a tight black tank top, and tattoos in muted colors run up his arms and over his shoulders.

Ino carefully checks herself for drool, then bounces down the last few steps and calls, "Morning!"

"Ino," her father says, glancing up with a smile.

The other jounin looks up as well, and of course he has blue eyes. He smiles too, flashing a hint of dimples, and while Sasuke is still definitely handsome, this man is…

Ugh. The phrase 'unfairly attractive' comes to mind.

"Hello," the redhead offers, meeting her eyes before dipping into a slight bow. "I'm Uzumaki Kurama. You must be Inoichi-san's lovely and talented daughter. I've heard much about you from Asuma-san."

Charming, too. Ino beams back, knowing exactly who's going to be second on her list of potential husbands from now on. "I'm Ino. It's nice to meet you, Uzumaki-san." It's only then that the name strikes her, and she blinks. "Are you…related to Naruto?"

The man nods. "Yes, he's my cousin. I only moved to Konoha recently, but he lives with me now."

Kurama is a jounin, and from the easy, courteous air around her father Ino can assume that he's a good one. A month ago, Ino would have wondered how in the world a dead-last loser like Naruto could have been related to such a successful shinobi, but now she thinks of last week. Of Team 7, no longer the ragtag trio of entirely separate and dissimilar individuals, but an actual team. Of a Sakura who stands tall but calm, of a Sasuke who smiles and jokes, of a Naruto who still laughs and grins but moves like a dancer, in complete control of every limb.

And, all right, maybe she can see the resemblance to this man in front of her.

"Don't you have training, Ino?" her father asks sternly. "Normally you've left by now."

Ino rolls her eyes in exasperation. "We should," she replies, "but Asuma-sensei sent a message saying that we've got the morning off. By now, Shikamaru can't complain that I didn't let him sleep in, so I'm going to go and drag him out of bed to do some sparring."

Inoichi chuckles, shaking his head. "I believe you and Shikamaru-kun have different ideas of what 'sleeping in' amounts to, Ino. Shikaku and I certainly did."

With an amused huff, Ino tosses her ponytail over her shoulder. "Well, he'd better get used to it. After all, Sakura's already gotten a head start pulling her team together, and I'm hardly about to let her beat me."

She still remembers, with a faint pang, the way Sakura's eyes settled on her that day, focused on her for a brief moment and in that space of time dismissed her as nothing more or less than an old childhood friend. They were rivals in love for years before Sakura suddenly decided to do away with all of that, and…

Well, it sticks in Ino's craw, to be set aside so easily. This new Sakura is different from the old one, in the way that a polished gemstone is different from the rough rock it originated from. She's sharp and strong and while she was never a cute girl, she's beautiful now, honed and tempered.

Ino is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. If she doesn't act now, she'll be left behind, and that's the exact last thing she wants. This Sakura—this Sakura she'll fight to keep up with, and if she has to drag her team along kicking and screaming—Asuma-sensei included—that's just fine with her.

When she looks back, Kurama is watching her with eyes the color of the ocean beneath the sun, vivid and almost unsettlingly blue. But there's a tilt to one corner of his mouth, like he's fighting a smile, and his expression is warm.

"If you don't want to bother your team quite yet," he suggests, "I think Sakura was going to head to Training Ground Nine a bit early to get some katas in. She might be up for a spar."

Ino doesn't even have to debate the matter. She heads for her sandals at a near bolt, waving over her shoulder as she tugs them on. "Thanks, Kurama-san! Have a good day, Tou-san!"

"Good luck, Ino," her father answers, while Kurama just waves in return.

Then she's out the door and running. Sakura isn't going to wait around for her forever, after all.

"Is that all of them?" Momiji asks, circling above Squad 27 as Kurama stows their reports in a sealing scroll.

"Yeah," Kurama answers, counting the reports he's already picked up. "This is the River Country border, which is mostly friendly towards Konoha, so only five patrol squads out here. We can head back now. Thanks, Momiji."

The fox snorts, banking right and setting off at a fast clip. "Believe me, it's my pleasure. Anything to get away from Ume's dirty looks. I wouldn't have complained no matter what you had summoned me for."

"Even—?"

"Well, no, maybe not that," Momiji admits, ears flattening against his skull. "I'm a fox, damn it, not a cat! Summoning us to take care of that rat infestation was just demeaning."

Kurama raises one politely disbelieving brow. "Oh? As I recall, Kaede had a lot of fun. Fuji, too."

"They're children," Momiji grumbles. "Fuji only just gained her third tail, and Kaede hasn't had his for more than a decade yet. You can't hold the rest of us to their standards, Kurama." He glides across the treetops, then lets them drop, feet skimming over the surface of a river. There's a large boulder in the center of the water, and he uses it as a springboard, soaring back up into the open air with his foxfire burning brightly.

Kurama chuckles softly, raising his face to the whipping wind. "Sorry, sorry. You have to admit, though, watching them was fun."

There's a momentary pause, and then a reluctant huff of laughter. "I suppose. My sister can be quite cute, when she's not being a complete terror."

"Spoken like a true brother, Momiji."

But Momiji doesn't answer. His attention is turned towards the north, ears pricked, and he circles tightly in the air, tails flaring behind him as he scents the wind.

"Momiji?" Kurama asks softly, closing his fingers around Ginkaze's hilt. "What do you sense?"

Momiji hesitates, circling once more before he answers, "I…think it's the Slug Sannin. She's on the North road, headed towards—"

"Tanzaku-Gai," Kurama finishes for him, feeling something that's a mix of longing and pain, heartache and joy twist through his chest. He presses a hand over it, closing his eyes. This…is something he hasn't considered, an option he'd never even conceived of, but… "That's where Ero-Sennin and I met her the first time. I…"

He hesitates, considering the different paths from here, and bites his lip. His first instinct is to rush in, urge Momiji forward so he can get even a glimpse of the only major female role model in his life, the woman who was mother and grandmother and big sister to him. But as tempting as that course is, he's not an immature and reckless brat anymore. Perhaps some could argue, but Kurama started thinking things through around the time his Sakura was killed.

But—

No.

Kurama lifts his head, feeling his heart thump in his chest and his breath hitch in his lungs, and orders, "Momiji, go."

The fox doesn't question him, body gathering in a leap that carries them northward, and Kurama is glad for it. He's got precious little justification for this, because it's a risk, and it's most certainly rash, a whim with little thought behind it. But Kurama, Kyuubi dye job aside, is still the reckless blond with a need to save people from everything, including themselves, and Tsunade is—

Well, Tsunade was his only real, living blood relative for so long, his Hokage and his mentor and his shoulder to cry on and his reason to be strong. She gave so much for him, for Konoha, and somehow the village without her has seemed ever so slightly dimmer, sadder.

So Kurama won't overthink this. He has no plan, no carefully plotted speech. But still he remembers that day when he and Jiraiya were searching for the Slug Sannin, that street in Otafuku-Gai. There had been a father and his son, sharing an ice cream, and Kurama, back when he had truly been Naruto, had watched them with an aching sort of emptiness inside of him.

Tsunade, whether she meant to or not, had filled that space.

She was never mushy, more apt to hit him than kiss his cheek, but she had been his baa-chan.

Whether or not Kurama can ever be close to her again, Naruto deserves to have that, and Kurama isn't about to let a lack of planning stand in his way.

They're close enough now that he can see two figures on the road, the familiar green coat and blond head, and Shizune with Tonton in her arms. Momiji pauses, hesitates ever so briefly, but when Kurama says nothing to call him off he lets them drop. The ground rises in a rush and he lands in a crouch, skidding slightly to keep his footing, and then stills.

Kurama raises his head, meets a startled brown gaze set in an ageless face, and slides off the fox's back with a last, thankful touch to Momiji's shoulder. He rises slowly to his feet, feeling off balance and uncertain, but at the same time steady. Tsunade is across from him, less than twenty paces away, and the last time Kurama saw her she was a pale and bloodless corpse, her life surrendered in order to give the people of Konoha one last chance at escape. It hurts more than it rightly should to look at her and see a complete lack of recognition in her features, more than it has with anyone else, but—that's just how it is now, isn't it? He'll adjust.

"Tsunade-sama," he says softly. "Please forgive me if I startled you."

She eyes him warily, and Shizune tenses slightly and takes a step closer. Tsunade glances at her and waves her back, expression becoming slightly irritated. "What do you want, shinobi?" she demands.

Kurama raises his hands, palm up to show they're empty. "Is it so wrong to want to speak to some of my last living family?"

There's a long, heavy pause. Tsunade studies him, eyes narrowing faintly, and then she says, "Well, with that hair you can't be anything but an Uzumaki. Even the Uzumaki painted on that ugly fountain in Uzushio's eastern market had red hair."

About to agree, Kurama blinks and stops. He thinks back, then raises a brow at the Slug Sannin and says politely, "It's been a very long time since I left Uzushio, Tsunade-sama, so forgive me if I'm wrong, but I could have sworn that the market was in the south of the city. Though I'll grant you that the fountain was exceedingly ugly."

That makes Tsunade smile, at least. She cocks her head, looking him over. "Your name, Red?"

"Uzumaki Kurama." He takes a breath and lets it out, steeling himself for a conversation that's going to consist almost entirely of misdirection and half-truths. Tsunade, unlike most shinobi, actually visited Uzushio in its prime. She met its shinobi and knew its leaders, and won't take kindly to being deceived.

"I can't recall an Uzumaki by that name," Tsunade says with a frown.

Kurama dips his head in acknowledgement. "My father was from outside the clan, and I never knew my mother. My village was destroyed while I was still a genin."

Tsunade's face softens slightly. "Uzushio was a beautiful city," she murmurs, and then smiles. "Ah, what the hell. I'd recognize that bone structure and coloring anywhere. Related to Kushina and Mito-sama, right? That's just about their shade of red, if a little darker."

Returning the smile, Kurama touches a lock of hair, remembering his mother. She was so beautiful, that one time he saw her, and to think he looks like her is…a comfort. A kindness. "My mother was related to Mito-sama, yes. I saw a…an image of Kaa-san once, and she was…gorgeous." He pauses, hastily arranging his thoughts, and then adds carefully, "But I've also met a blond Uzumaki."

Tsunade scoffs. "I think not. The whole clan was full of redheaded spitfires. Blond would be—"

"Your great-nephew, Naruto, is blond," Kurama cuts in, voice soft. "He's an Uzumaki, too."

The expression on the Sannin's face makes his heart hurt—wistful and fearful and tight with something that hovers between anger and grief. She crosses her arms under her breasts and fixes him with a sharp, steady glare. "If you're here to try and convince me to go back—"

"I'm here to convince you to be his family!" Kurama snaps, and maybe it's too soon to lose his temper, maybe it will just do more harm than good, but the woman who always believed in him is looking at him like he's a stranger, even when he was the one to bury her, to care for Konoha's people once she was gone and follow in her footsteps as best he could. "Tsunade-sama, you're his great-aunt, practically his godmother. Naruto is a child who has been raised without anything. I kissed his forehead once, and I thought he was going to cry because of it! No one has ever been a family to him beyond the most nebulous meaning of the word. Until I got to Konoha he was living alone in an apartment, surviving on ramen and almost nothing else. He needs people, and I can't be everything to him."

"I left Konoha for a reason," Tsunade snaps right back. "The whole damn place is cursed. If the brat knows what's good for him, he'll get out before it kills him, too, the same way it killed his mother."

Kurama takes a breath, trying to rein in his emotions. "I know what you lost, Tsunade-sama, and you have my sympathies, but other people have lost just as much and they didn't abandon their villages. Very soon, Orochimaru is going to attack Konoha, and if no one there is able to stop him he's going to kill the Sandaime. People will fight him and they'll die. He's one of the Sannin. How can you possibly expect the average chuunin or jounin to face him? But they will, because Konoha is their home. Naruto will face him, I know he will, because that's the kind of person that he is. And I can't lose him, Tsunade-sama. I can't lose another village. Not to Orochimaru. Not when your presence could stop him."

"How dare you? I gave everything—"

"And Konoha is still standing because of it! So isn't it better to make sure that your sacrifices weren't in vain? Shouldn't you protect it all the more because of what you've given? Tsunade-sama, please. Naruto is just a boy. He needs family, and Konoha needs your strength. Please, I know you've been living in the wake of a tragedy for a long time now, but can't you see that Konoha is worth more than that? You brother and your lover both gave everything for it, so that those living there could have a home. So preserve their dream. Preserve the village they worked so hard to save."

Tsunade makes a wordless sound of grief and rage, turning away and pressing a hand over her eyes. She's silent, and Kurama, still struggling to regain control of his temper, lets her have the moment as he steps back and takes a breath.

Silence lingers, and then breaks as Tsunade laughs, bitter and rough. "You've got a silver tongue, Red," she says, and the resignation in her tone is truly a surprise. "And a hard head."

"I've been told it runs in the family," Kurama answers, slightly wary as she turns back to him. She's still one of the Sannin, after all, and cunning on top of that.

Tsunade steps closer, and there's a deep, weary grief in her eyes that makes Kurama hold his ground until she's right in front of him, barely a pace away. She considers him for a long moment, inscrutable, and then reaches up and rests a hand on top of his head, gently curling her fingers in his long hair. "Naruto's not the only one who needs a family, is he?" she asks, and it's amused and tired and kind. Kurama stiffens, caught entirely off guard, and—

He ducks his head, trying to hide the burning in his eyes, because he never knew Kushina at all, and Tsunade has always been the very closest thing to a mother he's had. His hands clench into fists as he closes his eyes and attempts to pull away, but Tsunade's strength is every bit as ridiculous as it's always been, and she tugs him closer with an unimpressed arch of her brow. "Kid, you're a hundred years too early to be hiding everything away like that. Come here."

What is there to say, really? Kurama lets her pull him into a loose hug, and tries to pretend that he's not desperate for it. He hasn't let himself think about Tsunade in so long, hasn't let himself consider going to find her, because of this. Because she sees right through him and gets to the heart of things without any effort at all, and it's…she's the only one who's ever really been able to. Even Sasuke wasn't nearly as good at it as she was.

From above his bowed head, he hears her sign, and then a murmured, "Fine, Red, you got me. Orochimaru's going to be in the village?"

"For the Chuunin Exams, in a week," Kurama manages, clinging to his composure by his fingertips. "It's…likely he's going after Naruto's teammate, the last Uchiha, for his Sharingan. He'll destroy Konoha in the process, too."

Tsunade sighs, carding her fingers through his hair before stepping back and letting him go. Kurama tries not to feel bereft at the loss of the touch. "That sounds like Orochimaru." She shakes her head, frowning, and then rolls her eyes. "You know the second I set foot in the village they're going to have me wearing that stupid hat," she mutters. "Damn it. Why the hell am I doing this?"

"A steady supply of sake?" Kurama suggests, retreating another few steps to lean against Momiji's side. The fox leans into him in return, curling his tails around Kurama's hip in silent comfort.

With a snort, Tsunade gives in and smiles. "That's as good a reason as any. Go on, brat, you look like you're on a mission, and there's no way I'm climbing aboard that flying rat. We'll be in Konoha soon enough."

Momiji gives a yelp of indignant protest, but Kurama just laughs and swings onto his back. "When you get there, come find me," he offers. "I'll buy you a whole case of the best Rice Country sake."

"I'll hold you to that," Tsunade answers, and takes three steps closer to ruffle his hair before turning on her heel and marching off down the road. Shizune wavers, then gives Kurama a quick bow and a sweet smile before following her teacher.

Kurama watches them go, heart light and expression fondly wistful, his hair mussed and a smile on his lips.

"Thanks, baa-chan," he whispers.