Rating: M
Warnings: Language, fights, violence, light angst, Orochimaru's everything, threats, etc.
Word Count: ~5700
Pairings: eventual Kakashi/Kurama, past Sasuke/Naruto
Disclaimer: I don't hold the copyrights, I didn't create them, and I make no profit from this.
Notes: You get this two days early, since I'm leaving on a brief vacation on Tuesday. Hopefully I'll have some time to write and will manage to get the next chapter up, but it might be delayed, sorry!
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Chapter LIV: Surquedry
[surquedry / ' sur ′ kwe ' dri/, Overweening pride; arrogance; presumption; insolence. From Old French surcuidier "to presume" from sur "over" + cuidier "to think", from Latin cogitare "to think".]
"That's…Nagato?" Sakumo asks, faintly skeptical, but his hands are still gentle as he lets Orochimaru slide to the ground, good shoulder braced against the trunk of a tree.
Orochimaru gives the man a halfhearted glare, annoyed by the doubt. "I assure you, Hatake, even if he's crippled, he will still be one of the most dangerous enemies—"
"It's not that," Sakumo interrupts, though he keeps his voice low. His eyes flicker back towards the clearing, almost out of sight from their position. "He's bleeding from the nose and mouth. Any other shinobi, I'd say they were too close to chakra exhaustion to survive for more than another hour or so."
Eyes narrowing, Orochimaru runs through all the situations he knows of that might lead to Nagato overexerting himself to that extent. Not Rinne Tensei—that would wither Nagato as he completed it, feeding on his life if he tried to preform it without the necessary chakra. All of his other abilities are channeled through the Paths, though, and Orochimaru doesn't have a complete knowledge of them anyway. He had attempted to find out, because the Rinnegan was the biggest draw as far as joining the Akatsuki was concerned, but Nagato was unforthcoming.
"I don't know what he's attempting," he confesses, and it's bitter. Orochimaru hates little more than not knowing something. "It will likely not end well for those fighting him, however."
Sakumo doesn't waver, simply nods and rises to his feet, drawing his tantō from its sheath on his back. He weighs it in his hand for a moment, then says, as if it's an afterthought, "Thank you for recreating this. I'd feel naked without it."
Orochimaru snorts, but keeping his eyes open is too much effort at this point. He lets his head drop to rest against the trunk, and says, "I had hoped it would jog your memory if Uzumaki's seal failed. Willpower has never been something you've lacked, Hatake."
A wry, bitter smile twists Sakumo's face, just visible under the veil of Orochimaru's lashes, and he doesn't answer. "How far?" he asks instead. "You said I needed to remove him, but what's the minimum necessary distance?"
That, at least, is something Orochimaru has had more than enough exposure to judge. "Over a mile at least. More, if you want the Paths to collapse rather than simply lose their abilities. I'd recommend more, as otherwise he'll simply call them back to him."
Sakumo nods, takes a breath, and reaches up as if he's going to touch the hitai-ate he's no longer wearing. His fingers freeze, curling ineffectually, but he shakes himself and asks, "You'll be all right?"
"Go, Hatake," Orochimaru hisses, exasperated, and it makes Sakumo cast him a crooked, sideways smile before he leaps forward with a flicker of blazing white chakra. There's a surprised cry, a clang, a burst of chakra that sends heat washing over everything. Orochimaru is in no position to see anything, unfortunately, but when the sounds abruptly cease with a scatter of whirling leaves he leans his head back against the trunk, grimly satisfied.
The bleeding from his wounds is slowing, even if he doesn't have quite the skill necessary to regrow skin. If he had even slightly more mobility, this would be the perfect chance to escape; there are no eyes on him, no enemies close by. Everyone is an enemy now, though Orochimaru supposes not all that much has changed. The masks have been stripped away, that's all. He's stopped playing, and it makes him angry, furious—so close to his goal, so painfully close, and now it's turned to dust a heartbeat before his fingers can close around it.
He's just about to close his eyes when the ground starts to shake.
No time for dwelling, he tells himself, getting a hand on the trunk and taking a careful breath. Shinobi can only run so fast—even if Nagato isn't fighting back, which he undoubtedly is, it will take a few minutes for Sakumo to get him out of range. And in the meantime, whatever jutsu he was attempting will be more than powerful enough to—
Stones are rising, slow and stately, towards a black sphere that blots out the sun.
The fact that Orochimaru isn't aware of the nature of this technique doesn't keep him from recognizing that it's likely a devastating one. Moreover, a delay of this long in using it…clearly Nagato has been holding it in reserve. Which means that it's a final play, either an endgame or a last resort, and seeing as Madara's aim is to capture the jinchuuriki, it's almost certainly meant to assist in that.
Damn it, Orochimaru thinks, curling his fingers into the bark. Painfully slow, carefully deliberate, he gets first one knee under him, then the other, and cautiously pushes to his feet. The lightning bolt of pain the motion brings with it almost drives him back down, breathless and dizzy, but he forces himself upright anyway.
For a moment, he considers hiding himself, waiting out the result of this battle and seeing which way the wind turns. Between two Uzumaki and Uchiha Madara, he can't quite say who will win, but if he simply lets them have it out, he can react accordingly when the dust settles.
Of course, that doesn't account for the fact that Madara considers him a traitor, or that Sakumo might not have told Kushina about how he got the control seal to begin with. That's likely no longer an option, no matter how tempting the idea of sliding back into place so easily might be.
(What do you think Nawaki would say if he saw you now? His beloved teacher, trying to destroy Konoha? He'd be heartbroken, Tsunade whispers in his head, and in that moment he hates her more than he has since she disappeared into the night and left Konoha—left him—behind.)
Well. Looking at things logically, there's only one real choice. You've set your feet on this path, so keep going, Jiraiya always told him when he faltered learning a jutsu or a kata. Unhelpful advice, aggravating, but…strangely useful now, Orochimaru will admit, and he lets go of the tree, takes one wavering step forward, and doesn't fall. There's little chance he can reach Sakumo in time to warn him, to stop Nagato's jutsu, but trying loses him nothing but time.
Running footsteps, incautious with haste, make him freeze in his tracks.
Before he can so much as turn, Konan bursts into the clearing, dark cloak flaring like wings behind her. She falters when she sees him, eyes flickering over his ragged hair, his blood-covered skin, the gaping wounds he hasn't managed to close. Comprehension is just a moment behind, with contempt on its heels, and she draws up, expression deadly with implacable intent.
"Are you going to make me go through you, Orochimaru?" she asks, bland as if she doesn't care about his answer either way.
"Are you in a hurry, my dear?" he counters, and the flirtatious lilt he gives the words is carefully practiced, engineered to unnerve.
It makes Konan's lip curl faintly, though after so many months together she must realize it's only for show. "You're not going to be able to stop me," she says, eyeing his wounds, and Orochimaru very carefully doesn't grimace. She's right, unfortunately; any fast moves at all will reopen them, and he's not arrogant enough to think he can fight Konan without quite a lot of effort. Nagato might outshine her on the battlefield, but she's one of the world's most dangerous kunoichi, and Orochimaru isn't about to forget that.
Thankfully, Orochimaru hardly needs to fight her himself. He tests his chakra, finds bits of it trickling back. Not much, not enough for the massive and destructive jutsus he usually favors, and Konan can probably sense that. But…enough. Maybe.
Orochimaru is willing to stake his life on it, since he has to.
He lets his power rise, just a trickle, and pools it in his hands as he raises his arms. A wince almost escapes as torn flesh pulls, but he forces it down and gives Konan his best sly smile. "Would you care to test that theory, little girl?"
Buried indignation surges, and Konan's skin seems to fracture, paper peeling away to whirl around her. "Move," she snaps, and the papers fold themselves into shuriken and hurtle forward.
It's as simple as breathing to shove all of the gathered chakra into the tattoo on his left arm as he drops, and Orochimaru slams his palm against the ground with all the force he can muster. Manda is going to eat you one of these days, Kabuto always tells him, entirely unimpressed, but he doesn't know the snake summons like Orochimaru does, hasn't spent years training beside him. Orochimaru doesn't fear his oldest summons, and never will.
Manda is vicious, undeniably a bastard, but then, so is Orochimaru. They're a matched set in all the ways that matter.
The bloom of thick, ash-white smoke is enough to cover the massive snake's first lunge, but Orochimaru can feel it in his bones as Manda moves, can track his smooth slide as he snaps his head forward, mouth open and fangs bared. There's a cry, startled and lost to movement, and in a rush the smoke shreds, a flurry of knife-edged origami scattering it. Orochimaru laughs a little to himself at the sight of Manda bearing down on Konan, even as he slumps back against the tree again, strength spent.
The world spins, and he closes his eyes to block it out. Other senses are more trustworthy right now, so he focuses on those, on the pull of Nagato's jutsu in the sky, on Manda's chakra, on Konan's. Humans are unevenly matched against summons, even skilled humans, so he doesn't worry. Besides, this is more of a distraction than an actual fight.
"Hey, hey! That's one damn big snake, made Bee do a double-take!"
Oh, lovely.
The cavalry.
Even if he wasn't the Akatsuki's spymaster, Orochimaru would be well able to recognize the Raikage's brother and Kumo's elder jinchuuriki. Killer Bee is distinctive, and not just for the way he talks. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself up again, and snaps, "Get the girl, not the snake, fool! She's with Akatsuki!"
"Watch your words, 'cause I'm no fool! Not worth much coming from Akatsuki's tool!" Bee tells him, dodging Konan's paper kunai, then slamming his hands together. The Hachibi's chakra crashes over them in a wave, settling like a cloak around Bee's body, and he grins. "Got a hunch and followed her here. They're up to something, that much is clear."
Orochimaru has a headache, and he's fairly certain it's not solely from blood loss. "Then stop rapping and finish her. There's no time!"
"Are you helping him?" a new voice demands, and in a blur of green chakra an Uchiha boy lands just behind Manda, pointing at Orochimaru like he can't believe his eyes.
It takes effort for Orochimaru not to roll his eyes. "Clearly," he snaps, and that ridiculousness, so much like Jiraiya's, is familiar enough to spark recognition. Uchiha Shisui, graced with one of the most powerful manifestations of the Sharingan, a very clever mind, and all the composure of a particularly frazzled ferret.
There's a reason Orochimaru always gravitated towards Itachi, even beyond his brilliance.
"I'm so confused," Shisui laments, even as he pulls a length of ninja wire out.
This time Orochimaru really does roll his eyes. "The jinchuuriki has her," he says sharply. "In the forest—Hatake Sakumo has Pein's main body. Help him before that jutsu completes!"
"Like hell," Shisui spits, and in a whirl of leaves he's gone, too fast for any eye to catch. Konan appears briefly, leaping away from Bee, and fire sparks. Shisui shimmers into view in the midst of the blaze, sweeping it around him like a tide before the moon, and it crashes into the kunoichi with nearly as much force. Bee calls something bright and enthusiastic, but Orochimaru doesn't catch it, even as heavy-hot bijuu chakra surges.
Instead, all of his attention is on the second figure in an ANBU uniform, who drops into view barely three paces from him.
Tenzō stares at him for an endless second, dark eyes full of something that Orochimaru can't quite identify. Fury, maybe, or fear, or perhaps something else entirely. Then, deliberately steady, he asks, "Which direction?"
How unnerving, Orochimaru thinks, distantly bemused, and smiles a little to himself as he resettles his shoulder against the tree, letting it take his weight. His mouth's mocking slant is entirely self-directed as he remembers the roots that held him down in front of Kisame's sword. Revenge, then, or perhaps something akin to dark justice.
Orochimaru has no illusions that his chances of making it out of this battle alive are anything but exceedingly slim. This is just further confirmation.
"Three degrees northeast, then straight ahead," he answers, and when there's a sharply indrawn breath he opens his eyes again to find Itachi at Tenzō's side, regarding him warily. "Oh, don't bother, Uchiha. I want to see Pein stopped just as much as you do, especially since we're all in range of that jutsu at the moment."
Tenzō turns away, glancing back towards the battle, and then takes a breath. "Let's go, Itachi," he orders, and heads for the large oak at a run. Itachi gives Orochimaru one more wary glance, and just to be spiteful Orochimaru summons most of his remaining strength and flutters his fingers at the boy like one of the dreadful heroines in Jiraiya's novels.
"You heard the man," he says, half-mocking.
"He is," Itachi says, and the words are flat but full of conviction. "He's a man, not an experiment."
Orochimaru's eyes widen, and he blinks, caught off guard. Seeing that, Itachi nods once, apparently satisfied by his reaction, and quickly follows Tenzō.
A quick glance shows that Manda is still intact, that Bee and Shisui are pushing Konan back, so Orochimaru allows himself to slump. His head is spinning, and he doesn't bother to fight it. Too much blood loss, and even medical ninjutsu can't replenish that great an amount so quickly.
He chuckles a little to himself, a rasp of sound deep in his throat. "What a naïve child," he says to no one in particular, and casts a glance to the orb of fractured earth forming in the sky above them. Hollow, he thinks, just able to make out the bloom of heavy chakra that can only belong to jinchuuriki. A hollow creation of stone and chakra to trap the bijuu and their hosts, and any enemies that might be remaining. There's no use in saying Nagato isn't clever, is there? It's a plan worthy of Madara himself.
But it's not going to succeed.
Orochimaru presses his palm against the winter-green grass, sends just a trickle of chakra into his summoning tattoo. The whirl of smoke that rises is smaller, easily dismissed amidst all the dust the others are raising. The snake that appears to curl around his hand is deep tan with a pattern of broken chevrons edged in black, and a darker brown head. She's small enough to be overlooked, and Orochimaru runs a light finger over her skull.
"Go carefully," he tells her. "A handful of bites should be enough with you, my dear."
The snake slides around his wrist, between his fingers, and drops to the ground. She's almost invisible against the earth, and Orochimaru chuckles. He thinks of Konan, dry-paper-dust-flowers-rain to his senses, and the taipan flicks her tongue out as if she can taste the same in the air. It must register, because she turns and vanishes into the grass, and even Orochimaru can't mark her passage when he looks.
Shinobi, he's come to realize over the years, always underestimate the dangers of the world around them, as if they're the most dangerous creatures in existence. Hubris, and Orochimaru certainly isn't immune to that, but it's still amusing to witness.
There's chakra raging beyond the cliff, weighty and harsh and corrosive, and a part of Orochimaru wants to go and look, study, observe. Jinchuuriki fighting is something unusual, and sure to be interesting, even if they're only fighting the pull of a jutsu. He's tired, though; what little bits of chakra he managed to gather are all but exhausted now, and all the scraps remaining he's pushed towards healing. The tree is starting to creak and shudder, fragments of earth and stone pulling out of the cliff on either side of them as the orb above grows. There's no one to shout a warning to, no way to move in time unless he calls Manda back and orders the snake to take him to safety.
The thought is tempting. So very appealing, given Orochimaru's goals, but—
He's petty. He's petty and angry and thwarted, and if his snake can kill Konan, if Nagato can be captured, if Madara can be undercut here, Orochimaru will be viciously glad and spitefully satisfied. And for him, that will be victory enough.
"Well, fuck," Zabuza says, drifting up past Kurama. He's upside-down, sword in one hand, Haku tucked under his other arm, and looks vaguely affronted to find himself in the grips of the new planetoid's immense gravity.
Kurama rolls his eyes, even though no one is looking. Behind him, Kushina is cursing, trying to get away from the pull, but the entire section of earth she was standing on it rising. Her Chains thud into the ground, only to immediately lose their grip as that starts to rise as well. Even Han looks a little perturbed, hanging on to his kasa as he's dragged up off the battlefield.
Chibaku Tensei is a village-ender when Nagato uses it, though, or a trap at best. It's nowhere near on par with the Sage's, or even Sasuke's version of the technique. Naruto beat it once without full control of his power, and Kurama's hardly about to do any less.
"You think this will do anything?" he snarls at the Deva Path, who doesn't waver as it meets his eyes. "You really think this will hold me?"
Rinnegan eyes narrow, and the Path takes a step back as the ground before him fractures. "It will hold," he says simply.
Kurama laughs, and if there's a bitter edge to it, it's from the memory of the last time he saw this technique up close. Naruto had almost broken then, had still been reeling from the destruction of Konoha and the deaths of those he loved. Kurama had goaded him, pushed and pushed and prodded until Naruto had reached for the seal himself, ready to tear it down and allow Kurama free rein.
Minato's chakra impression was the only thing that stopped him, then. A return of conscience, a slap to the head, and he'd ended up making Nagato an ally even with so many deaths between them.
Kurama isn't Naruto and never can be. He isn't about to lay out a welcome mat to those who hurt him, not without a lot of other incentives, and he's definitely not about to hold back for fear of hurting his enemy.
Turning, he leaps from the spur of rock beneath him, but rather than trying to jump back to the ground, no matter how much he wants to pound the Path's face in, he aims upwards. A strong push, aided by the gravity, and Kurama reaches.
It's harder to channel the same amounts of chakra that he used to as a bijuu, now that he's in this body. Human chakra pathways simply aren't designed for the load, and while Naruto's body has hosted him since birth and is better for it than most, it's still an effort.
Not enough of one to stop Kurama, though.
He pulls and twists, molds and balances. Eight parts positive black chakra, two parts negative white, and they swirl together in the air before him. Kurama doesn't make any attempt to contain it to a hand gesture, doesn't try to keep it small because of collateral damage. He focuses all of his power on the bijūdama, lets it build until it's taller than he is, a seething warp of chakra ready to destroy. The strain of it is noticeable, and this might be his body now but that doesn't mean he can use it like he would his old.
One blow, he tells himself, and snarls, "If you're in my way, move."
Five seconds for anyone in the path to hear, another three for them to get away, and Kurama takes a breath. No way to internalize this bijūdama, not at his current size, but that's fine. Some of his siblings have never bothered, and he follows their example, hanging on until the moment he'd have swallowed it before, and then letting go.
Naruto was able to interrupt Sasuke's Chibaku Tensei as it formed with a Rasengan. Nagato's hasn't finished yet, the black-glowing orb still visible, pulling everything into its orbit. The bijūdama is no different; Kurama doesn't even have to aim for the core. All he does is release it, and it flies upwards in a streak of violet-black, arrowing straight for the center.
The impact is like a detonation, like a sun imploding. Light flares, magnesium-bright, and destruction ripples out like a wave to shatter stone. The force of it hits like a hammer, throwing Kurama back to slam into the fractured wall of the canyon, and stones rain down on top of him. A hard leap carries him to the side, out of the path, and he doesn't bother pausing. Breath comes hard, his lungs tight with spent effort, but wherever Nagato is he's likely in far worse shape. Any more, and—
"You're more powerful than I anticipated," the Path says darkly, and ducks Kurama's claws as they swipe at his face.
Kurama bares his teeth, leaps to the side of a ripple of gravity, and takes advantage of the five seconds Nagato needs to recharge the technique to shove his way in and slam an elbow at the body's throat. "You have no fucking idea how powerful I am," he snarls as the Deva Path reels away, clutching his throat. Another bijūdama, this time small enough to fit in his palm, but he thinks of Naruto's Rasengan and lets it spin, faster and faster as he thrusts his hand forward and slams it into the Path's chest.
Dead flesh ruptures, and in the same moment all fragments of Nagato's power disappear from the piercings with their black receiving rods. Yahiko's body crumples, devoid of all traces of life, to sprawl at Kurama's feet.
For a long moment, the only sound on the battlefield is the clatter of stones falling like light rain. Kurama feels his breath rasp in his throat and pulls back, coughing to clear it. There's no blood on his hand, because long-dead corpses don't bleed, but it's satisfying regardless. An enemy beaten, and if not the way Naruto would have then at least Kurama's way, and that's good enough for him.
Shinobi sandals crunch lightly over the new layer of gravel on the road, and Kurama glances up, shoving his hair out of his eyes to find Kakashi approaching. He doesn't look all that much worse for wear, though he's definitely a bit more ruffled than before, and he glances down at Yahiko's body with cool assessment.
"Is he going to get back up?" he asks, and the words are wry but the tone is serious.
Kurama snorts, then leans down to press a finger to the chakra receivers. They're truly dormant right now, though, not a trace of power in them beyond the faintest echo, so he shakes his head. "Not going to be a problem. Either Konan grabbed Nagato and got the hell out of here or someone managed to kill the bastard." With a faint grimace, he considers burning Yahiko's body, but Jiraiya will probably take offense. Still, he doesn't have to be stupid about it. He looks for Kushina, who managed to land in a tree, and calls, "Hey, Tomato!"
Behind him, Kakashi winces.
"Fuck you," Kushina calls back, though she sounds cheerful enough. "What do you want, little brother?"
Kurama wants to punch her. Instead, he very carefully unclamps his jaw and growls, "Can you seal this body like you did Tobi's? I don't want Pein trying to use it again."
"Isn't he dead now?" Kushina asks, but she drops down from the branches and comes over, quickly enough that it's clear she recognizes it as a possibility.
"He was dead before," Kurama tells her dryly, then takes stock. Zabuza and Haku are on the far side of the canyon, with Zabuza bent over Haku and offering a hand. Yagura and Han both ended up along the other cliff, Han in a crater and Yagura on top of a fallen shard of stone, and all around them the canyon is now much less narrow pass and much more new valley.
No one's dead who wasn't like that already, though, so that probably counts as a success.
"I'll find the other ones too, then," Kushina says, wrinkling her nose a little as she surveys the field. "Well. I'll try."
Green light sweeps over the edge of the cliff above them, then drops, and Shisui appears, touching down in front of Kakashi. One staggering step and then he steadies himself, and says brightly, "Captain! You're still alive! That's awesome. I hate changing commanders halfway through the year."
Kakashi doesn't quite roll his eyes, but it looks like he wants to. "Shisui. Where exactly did you go?"
Shisui gives him a cheerful smile, though there's something dark beneath it. "Killer Bee took off after Konan, so we followed, thinking she'd lead us to Nagato. Orochimaru intercepted her and tried to kill her, though, so we ended up helping with that. She got bitten by a snake and then managed to get away—she can make some kind of camouflage with her paper that even the Sharingan can't see through."
"Nagato?" Kurama asks sharply, stepping around Kakashi's shoulder to glare at the Uchiha. "Did he get away too?"
"No," Shisui answers, meeting his stare without flinching. "Hatake Sakumo, Tenzō, and Itachi got him. He doesn't look overly healthy at the moment, though. And by that, I mean he looks like the next heavy breeze is going to make him start coughing up blood again and die."
Good riddance, Kurama doesn't say. It does offer the problem of how they're going to cart Nagato in his walker all the way back to Konoha, though. They could just kill him here, or take his eyes, but somehow Kurama doesn't think Jiraiya will allow either of those things. It makes him scowl, considering options.
"Shisui?" Kakashi asks quietly, before Kurama can say anything.
Apparently understanding what he means, Shisui tips one shoulder in a shrug. "I can do it if you want me to, Captain. We'd have to wake him up again and that's definitely a risk, but he's a captive, and all I need is a few seconds of eye contact."
"What?" Kurama asks, faintly mystified. "All respect to your magic eye jutsus, but I don't think a genjutsu will—"
"Yeah, normally," Shisui agrees cheerfully, and his eyes slide into scarlet and midnight, spinning slowly in a way that raises every hair on the back of Kurama's neck. He takes three steps back before he can stop himself, and has to swallow the growl that bubbles up in his throat. Shisui blinks at him for one moment, then rolls his eyes, and says, "I'm not going to use it on you. Kotoamatsukami means I can turn Pein into an ally just by telling him he doesn't want to fight Konoha anymore."
That really doesn't help put Kurama at ease. He remembers all too clearly the first time he faced the Freak Squad, Tenzō dragging him to his knees and Shisui about to use his Sharingan on him. Only Fuji's appearance had saved him from that, and to find out that it wasn't just basic control but actual fucking brainwashing—
Kurama takes another two steps back and feels no shame in it.
"Fuck," he growls. "Fair warning, Brainwash Boy, you activate those near me again and I'm going to fucking pull them right out of your skull, got it?"
With a yelp, Shisui leaps out of possible grabbing range, all but ducking around behind Kakashi as he puts the older shinobi between them. "What? Hey, no, come on, you were done being terrifying to me, that is not fair!"
"That is totally fair," Kurama counters, bristling. "I've warned you, and I hate the Sharingan more than any other fucking manifestation of chakra, got it? Don't use it near me."
"And here is where I remember yet again that you threatened to eat our corpses," Shisui complains with a theatrical shudder. "I've met other jinchuuriki now, and Han is seven feet tall, so why the hell do I feel like you're still the scariest one?"
Kurama bares his teeth right back. "Because sometimes you actually have sense, Uchiha."
Kakashi sighs a little bit. "Maa, maa," he soothes as he steps fully between them. "You're an ally, Kurama, so it's not a threat to you. Shisui, how likely is Pein to stay unconscious?"
A little warily, Shisui straightens, though he keeps one eye on Kurama. "Between the near-chakra exhaustion and your dad hitting him with a paralysis seal, pretty likely."
"Then we have time to decide," Kakashi concludes, though his expression goes minutely tighter at the mention of Sakumo. "Guard him, and if he wakes up, take any necessary measures to suppress him."
"Yes, sir." Shisui salutes, then disappears in a blur.
Kakashi doesn't quite slump, but it's close. His eyes close for half a second, and then he reaches up and pulls his hitai-ate back down over his Sharingan. Kurama studies him for a second, then looks away, back over his shoulder.
Crouched down by Yahiko's body, Kushina is watching them—watching Kakashi in particular, her expression equal parts determined and sad. She rises to her feet and takes a step forward, then another, reaching out.
"You grew up, Kakashi," she says gently, and Kakashi visibly flinches. Kushina ignores it, curling a hand around his shoulder and tugging a little, and as if she's an irresistible force Kakashi turns. Slowly, reluctantly, he meets her gaze, and Kushina says lightly, "I should punch you, you know. I saw Kisame kill that clone and I thought it was you."
"I'm good at surviving," Kakashi says, equally light, and Kurama wonders if he's the only that can hear the thread of despite myself that's buried under the words. Kakashi pauses, though, clearly debating something, and glances up. He looks at Kushina, and then at Kurama, and takes a breath.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
Kushina blinks, drawing back a little, and frowns at him. "For what? Kakashi, if you're blaming yourself for not saving us, or for what happened that night—"
"No," Kakashi interrupts, and then winces faintly. "Not just—that isn't what it's for. I—for Naruto. For what I should have done for him, but didn't. I abandoned him, even though I knew you would have wanted me to—"
"You were fourteen, brat. I would have liked to have you raise him, but I wouldn't have expected it," Kushina huffs. "Just being around him…" She must catch something in Kakashi's face, because she trails off, eyes narrowing. "Kakashi?"
"He doesn't know," Kakashi says, and that tone might pass for bland to someone who doesn't know him, but Kurama can hear the strain beneath the surface. "Until two weeks ago, he didn't even know my name. A month ago he didn't even know yours. Or Minato-sensei's. Naruto didn't even know he was a jinchuuriki until Kurama found him."
"Hey—" Kurama starts, taking a step forward, because he knows exactly how this is going to end. He's not nearly fast enough, though.
Before he can even get another word out, Kushina rears back, balls up a fist, and punches Kakashi square in the nose.
