A/N: I don't own Naruto or any of its characters. Slow-burn romance.
He knew.
He smiles as the cat-masked Yumi blurs away from the room. She always did that whenever she caught him staring - just ran out as if someone stepped on her tail.
She looks tired, but healthy at least. How long has it been? Three months until she's been home... maybe four. The length she's been going on missions has been getting longer and longer. A sure sign that Danzo has finally begun to trust her. Or at least sharpened her skills.
Shisui knew the moment she disappeared that something was wrong.
Yumi loved a balance of order and chaos. Much like the wind blew in well-known patterns, yet you couldn't say at precisely what angle and with what speed - though maybe, Yumi could. So she would ALWAYS wait for him after Academy on Wednesdays. Sometimes Friday's if she wanted a home-cooked meal from his mom, but always always always Wednesdays.
The first Wednesday she didn't show, Shisui waited until midnight. And he would have waited longer if his parents hadn't dragged him home. When she didn't show on Friday either, he skipped every lesson he had and searched for her through the weekend. Turning up at all her regular spots - and there were a LOT.
On Sunday, he finally worked up the courage to visit the orphanage. It wasn't that he was afraid of the place, but he was afraid of Yumi's disapproval that was for sure. She never talked about her time at the orphanage. She never invited him into that part of her life, because she didn't consider it a part of herself.
He would never tell her, but he savored the walk across the rough path with wild bramble. He had been in an absolute flurry through the rest of his search. But with this, he would take his time. Because he wanted to get to know it right. He wanted to remember the feel of the dirt, the view of the trees and the sounds of the building that she had heard so many times before. He would savor it, and good that he did, because it would be many years until he walked it again.
When they told him at the front desk that she had been suddenly adopted, he knew.
He'd been raised at the intersection of potential and politics. And that meant people were quick to sink their claws into you. Quick to judge your worth. And quicker still to hide their intentions.
His best friend stood at that intersection as well... though she didn't know that. She wasn't born into as prestigious a clan as his - hell, who really knew where she came from. And still, she was noticed. He had noticed her as well.
He knew even then that he had to play his cards wisely.
The door finally opens - another black masked root member ushers them in with a subtle nod.
"Finally." Fugaku says with sternness. To be fair, they had waited for an hour. An active move of dominance on Danzo's part and just plain rude.
At the time, she didn't know what it meant. Looking back on it, she could only see it as its truth - see so clearly as the plan progressed. The first root of it, right then and there. The first real glimpse she had of what was to come.
But she didn't know it then. To her, it was merely a scroll - not worth her months on the road nor the lives she took.
She assesses the yellowing of the parchment and the disintegrating along its edges - at least two centuries old, if not more. There's a weak seal placed upon it - the difficulty doesn't lie in breaking it, rather in re-sealing it exactly as it is. Now or never.
Her fingers rapidly go through hand signs. The seal glows a faint red, before dispersing.
Kekkei Genkai...? Her brows furrow.
The first half of the scroll details the anatomy of well-known Kekkei Genkai. Fascinating, to be sure. And informed. She'd seen enough Uchiha scrolls to know this once belonged to their archives. No one else that she knew of could have this descriptive knowledge of the Sharingan.
The second half of the scroll is written in a different ink - darker and less-faded than the older writing. The scrawl is abridged - the quick notetaking of a scientist. She'd seen it often with Rikuto. She reads through it once. Then twice. Then a third. Each time, unraveling the coded writing into truth.
Kekkei Genkai and forced transfusions of either blood or chakra. Were they testing this on prisoners of war? She reads on. But almost all testing resulted in debilitation and later death. Only one case, in the youngest Uchiha studied managed to bring out exceptional results - and even then, death soon followed.
Anger. A simmering rage she hasn't felt in a long time prickles at her skin. Their own bodies used against them.
She quelches the anger as quickly as it comes. In root, Danzo told her many times that there is no room for emotions like that. And on that she agreed because emotions cloud your judgement. She'd seen it enough to know that was true. Seen fear turn skilled ninjas to desperation. Grief turn them to inaction. And rage turn them to carelessness.
I'm sure Danzo has already noticed I'm back, and therefore late to see him.
She reseals it delicately. At least this scroll returns to Konoha where it belongs.
It's been a long time since he's really looked at his own face. Rough fingers trace the even rougher scar across his eye. It throbs dully - the ache lessening either over time or just by acclimation. The first few months he refused to train with it - a gift he wished he'd never received. Rather than this eye, he wanted his friend back. To think, I would think about Obito as "the good old days."
He smiles to himself, how ironic.
An assortment of weaponry is spread out across his table. An empty travel bag and scrolls beside them. He'd be gone for months this time. Unlike most of his comrades who longed for home, he longed for the battlefield. There was nothing comforting about 'home' any longer. All he could do now was to protect what was left of it - and to do that he needed to fight.
A mask watches him. Masks always do. Even when his father was Anbu, there were always masked shadows lurking about him. At that age, Kakashi could only sense them a fraction of the time. Like a flicker of light, easily missed with a blink.
Now he could sense them almost immediately, though not precisely. Well actually, it depended on WHO followed. Not all Anbu were of the same caliber.
They'd be gone once he departed Konoha's gates tomorrow morning. Off to the front lines. Minato had been there for a month already. Last he heard, at least. Reliable intel is hard to come by.
She holds out the scroll to him, saying nothing. They're alone in his office. They usually are - even Danzo holds a level of wary for his own eyes and ears in Root.
Danzo grabs it, quickly casts the seal away. Yumi secretly sighs a breath of relief.
His eyes scan through it - his expression gives nothing.
"No witnesses?" Danzo inquires.
She nods.
"Good. Get ready to leave again tomorrow morning."
She nods. There is no rest in this profession, not during war. She would never complain about that. She turns to leave -
"It's a group mission."
She swivels back - "Why?". Danzo hates this about her. Her resistance comes so second-nature to her. Not for much longer. He quickly signs and the seal on her back activates. Her fingers curl, her body fighting the need to writhe in pain. The smallest of shakes wrack her body. Her reaction has improved. The first time he'd triggered the seal, she lay helpless on the ground for 2 nights.
"You know better than to ask questions. All you need to know is in the mission brief." Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, had asked Danzo a favor - a ninja specialized in infiltration of Iwa's eastern edge. Hiruzen was cautious in asking help of Root, so the mission must have been particularly classified.
She nods.
He hands her the envelope. Who better to send than his little pet. Her annoying habits won't last long.
A brisk breeze blows through her window. She feels the change instantly. The first breeze of winter. Besides it's obvious chill, it had a distinct dryness and even taste to it.
She skims the contents once more. Her packed bag lies on the edge of her bed - packed because she had no chance to unpack. She wouldn't get that chance until the end of the war. Besides her bed and her books, she owns next to nothing. The room is small, clean and old. So very old. The floorboards are natural wood; they groan through the night as the seasons change. The pipes are weary and rusted, often dripping during heavy rains. She thinks of this as character. And protection. Trespassers would easily cause a sound.
She hides nothing of value in this home, besides a few books which can be replaced. Things of value should be hidden in unknowable places. Rikuto taught her that. For all his contraptions and experiments he left wide-open on his desk, there was only one place he held his secrets.
She flicks through the brief once more. Assisting a three-man squad in an search-and-rescue mission in Iwa territory. Dangerous. And rare. Search-and-rescues so deep into the war were hardly ever accepted. There were so many casualties on all sides, anyone captured was already deemed a lost cause. So who could be deemed worthy of rescue? The mission brief didn't say, but she could guess. Likely a relation to Hyuuga nobility, especially considering the highest ranking ninja on the mission (besides herself) was a Hyuuga, though low in the nobility totem pole.
One jounin and two chunin. We must really be getting desperate. Both chunin are newly appointment with only one B mission to their name. The jounin has vast experience at least. If not, none of us would survive this S-class mission.
She closes the brief gently, awaiting the words that float through the window on that cold winter wind.
"Yumi."
Shisui's soft voice. Deeper than she remembers.
She can't answer him.
And he knows.
He's gone the moment after.
And all that's left is a plate of onigiri on her windowsill.
A/N: It's been so long lol