Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Beta'd by UmbreonGurl, drowsyivy, animemoms, and aflowerydeath.


It takes me five hours to make Shishou relinquish my birthday present. In the meantime, we play too many games of Go to count, largely because I am too frustrated to remember exactly what constitutes as a proper opening sequence feint after the first three games. It blurs together in my head the same way practicing a certain kunai throwing technique does after a while.

After a while you no longer remember the steps, not the individual actions that lead you to a point, you just stand up, stand up, stand up, and do.

It takes me five long hours of Go before he finally smiles. And I know that's enough.

That small upwards curve of his lips coupled with the clink clink clink of the go stones returning back to their bowls tells me, it's enough. On days that I've done well, he smiles. On days that I've done poorly, he frowns.

It's a strange sort of thing to realize that I want him to smile, that I like the little gesture that he's pleased. I am unhappy when he is disappointed.

Then, I shouldn't have expected him to give it up easily.

The very fact that he'd gotten me a present at all should've still left me reeling. Shimura Danzo is not in the habit of handing out birthday presents to little girls.

I am actually fairly certain that he's never...done this before. It's wrapped a touch too formal to be a present for a little girl. While I might like red, I am only turning eleven today.

Only eleven, and it's wrapped like a present might be presented to a noble lord at court.

Shimura Danzo is not in the habit of handing out presents to the likes of me, so giving it to me like a normal man might actually break the world.

"Why don't we go to the training ground before you open it?" he rumbles.

The sun's already on its way towards the horizon, which means very little given that it is mid April and the days are not yet long, but this box is too light and too short to be any sort of weapon.

"Why do we need to go to a training ground?"

He's already risen, and I follow him out, but he glances at me, one eyebrow raised, with a look that says "because I said so" in meaning if not in so many words.

Given the strange state of affairs and that I am ill advised to displease him, I follow after.

We end up at a training ground that I've never been in before, gated, though the fencing disappears into the treeline. This is not the famous training ground forty-four with its monster animals and unfortunate plantlife.

It was just a training ground with a clearing and a forest and gated for no reason that I could really discern, tucked in a little corner away from the rest of the city, not far from the Tower.

And here, leaning against a training post is where I open my eleventh birthday present from my godfather.

I unwrap the red cloth and slide the polished dark wooden lid away from the contents of the box.

Out tumbles a pair of black gloves.

I pick them up, one in each hand, the box set aside on the training post for now. "Shishou, what are these?"

"Try them on."

And they are my size, meant to be my birthday present, so I do. They're soft, as though spun from spider's silk, probably worth a fortune in materials alone, but I still don't understand their purpose.

A gift from Shimura Danzo has to be exceptional, because only rare occasions could make him give gifts in general.

So what is the purpose of these gloves that fit my hands perfectly? I'm no longer surprised by the fact that they do, having accepted that Shishou moves in rather dangerous and highly unethical ways when it comes to most things.

My hand size probably made it into my file next to my height and weight and shoe size, coupled with my flexibility and dual elemental natures...and whatever else Fu or another ROOT Agent's gathered, which probably includes my favorite tea house and my favorite tea and that I like chocolate pastries but mochi even more.

"I...don't understand." The shortest road to understanding is probably just asking, because he's watching me, waiting for something almost expectantly.

"Fu."

I move to counter the tanto that comes from above as though it's second nature, like drawing breath or pumping blood, involuntary, instinctive, immutable.

Sparks bloom across my hands before I even understand what's happening. I hold the beginning of an explosion in my hands, and it takes my breath away.

Fu, thankfully, stops his attack to also watch the dancing sparks, the two polar natures of my affinities hum in the palms of my hands. I never knew before that an explosion makes noise before it tears its way into the world, bold and loud, defiant in every way. I'd never been able to hold it like this before, cradle it gently without losing control or tearing my own skin.

I never knew the first sound it makes is so soft, a hum not a scream.

For a brief moment, all I do is stare in wonder. It's the gloves.

After the wonder, I can feel the way they funnel my chakra down set pathways, how they force my two very different chakra natures to mix together, how it's adjustable, easy almost now to learn to control it.

I hold it for a moment more, to marvel at what I'd been given, the thought that had gone into its construction, and then I let the dwindling explosion go in an exquisite shower of little golden sparks.

I launch myself across the clearing at him, still too giddy in my golden glee to recognize that this is a bad idea, before I throw my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Shishou!"

He stiffens almost instantly, but makes no other move, which I suppose means that I should thank my lucky stars I wasn't stabbed or worse.

"You're welcome," he says after a moment, after forcing himself to relax. "I trust it's better than chocolate?"

I laugh at this. Are you still upset about the chocolate business? You were the one that brought that up to begin with! "Of course!" As I had suspected, this birthday present is truly spectacular. "Where did it come from?"

Something like this wouldn't be found in just any shinobi supply shop in Konoha. Acquiring shinobi supplies from elsewhere couldn't have come cheap.

He hums, nonchalant in all ways, "Iwa," and does not elaborate beyond that.

And I suppose I ought to accept that there will always be secrets that surround him which I will never properly learn.


I find Kaa-san leaning against the table when I get back home, the kitchen and the rest of the house empty for the most part because I can't hear Kiba or Sasuke or Ino making noise in there, though Kuromaru's tail swishes back and forth underneath the table.

"Back from talking with Elder Shimura, Little Nose?" she asks, a hint of fang peeking out behind her self satisfied smile. There's a light in her eyes, her shoulders thrown back, a swagger in the tune she's lightly humming.

This time of year, she's never so happy as this, though she isn't often sad either. I'd call it wistful maybe, a kind of looking back on the past that plagues her more when anniversaries and birthdays roll around, but a mood that strikes her most often in the early spring, when the lilacs break their buds and unfurl into heavy plumes of purple, dark against the grayness of the sky.

"Uh-huh." I come to stand next to her, nudging her with my elbow. "Kaa-san, you're so happy today."

She pauses her humming for a moment, blinks at me slowly that grin still stretching from ear to ear. "It's been a good day." She glances down at me and grins still wider. "Guess who's not a special jounin any longer, Hana-chan?"

I shriek and pounce on her. "Kaa-san, you didn't say jounin exams results were coming out today!"

It's not like there's some badge of honor you wear after becoming a jounin. It's not the same as passing the chunin exams where the Hokage awards you with a green vest that might be slightly ill fitting until you grow into it properly, and you can wear it around for all the village to see. Jounin don't get a visible symbol to put somewhere on their outfit so they can walk around jauntily, strutting their stuff for the world to know like new genin and chunin do.

But then, maybe by the time you make jounin you're supposed to want to brag about it less.

She laughs, ruffling my hair and squishing my cheeks together. "I didn't know either until this morning, but I made it!" She spins me around a whirlwind of joy and vibrant pride, the orange feathers in her hair fluttering wildly with the motion. "Hah, take that Hiashi!"

I feel like there's a story here, waiting to burst onto the scene, but I let it unfold naturally, let Kaa-san spin me around until we're both so dizzy we have to sit on the floor. "That asshole," she mutters. "Acting all high and mighty, I should've decked him harder."

I try to picture Kaa-san's right hook smashing into Hyuga Hiashi's jaw, and I can't quite do it. I can picture plenty of reasons as to why Kaa-san would want to, but I can't actually picture it happening.

The image gets lost somewhere between Kaa-san's hands curling into fists and one of those fists slamming into Hyuga Hiashi.

"We could've bit him." Kuromaru grumbles from under the table. "We could've bit him but we didn't."

Kaa-san throws back her head and howls with laughter at that one. "Oooo, we should've bit him. We'll never get the chance to again."

She pulls back though, looks me over, still riding the high of her achievements, joy a wild thing. "And it's your birthday too," she hums, mischief and delight still wrapped up in her features. "So, Little Nose, when're ya gonna ask me where everyone is?"

I had wondered, thought it strange that Kiba hadn't hurtled his way into the room, hollering about how Kaa-san was a jounin now and isn't that great and Sasuke stop saying your Kaa-san's a jounin too 's bout Kaa-san and other words all too quick and loud, tumbling over each other and getting mixed up in the conversation so you're never sure where one sentence began and the other ended.

"Well, Kiba's probably still out." I am slightly disappointed in him, it's about to grow dark and he knows to be back by now, but I rarely discipline him as it is. I'm his sister, not his parent.

He's a good kid. He'll learn his lessons as he grows.

"Mmm." Kaa-san slaps a hand over my eyes and whistles for Kuromaru. "Let's go for a walk, Hana-chan."

"With your hand over my face?" I'm beginning to suspect something else is up. Kaa-san had mentioned my birthday too. There's only one reason to cover my eyes.

"Why not?" I all but hear her shrug. "The surprise'll get ruined later anyway, but at least I tried."

"A surprise?" There's only one sort of surprise she'd be so interested in keeping secret. "Kaa-san!" I shriek, our footsteps not slowing as she steers me out of the house and across the clan grounds. "Are we going to walk across the village like this?"

It's terribly disconcerting not being able to see, even though I know my way around well enough by sound and smell alone.

With one quick motion, she swings me up over her shoulder like a sack of meal and takes to the roofs. "No, of course not, Hana-chan!"

And away we go.


I'm out of breath from both laughing too hard and bouncing around during our wild trip through the city. "Kaa-san!" I gasp. "Put me down!" It's no surprise where we've arrived. I could've guessed it from miles away.

Here in the Uchiha district, we fly through the streets, Kuromaru following close on Kaa-san's heels.

"Fugaku! Mikoto!" she calls when she throws open the doorway. "I brought Hana!"

"Tsume!" Mikoto-ba turns a corner and stares at the three of us, Kaa-san, Kuromaru, and I standing in the doorway, me thrown over Kaa-san's shoulder. "Oh no," her face falls. "Hana-chan, you knew."

I flash her a grin from where I'm hanging. "That's us! Bad at keeping secrets from family!"

Now that we're here, Kaa-san sets me down, gently on my feet, a slightly sheepish smile on her face. "Well, how else was I supposed to get her here?"

Mikoto-ba makes a sound of amusement and slight frustration. "It's a surprise party. There's plenty of ways to get her here without letting Hana-chan know what's going on."

I frown slightly. "What else would be going on?"

Mikoto-ba sighs, a laugh in her eyes. "Too sharp by far, Hana-chan."

"It's only logical." While I didn't expect the party — I hadn't had a birthday party really since the year I turned four and that had only had three people in it — I could guess after Kaa-san decided to bounce me across the village after dark.

"NEECHAN!" Kiba slams into me with the force of an incoming rock. "You made it in time!"

A moment later, Sasuke rounds the corner. "It's your birthday!"

Kiba makes a face at him. "Uh-huh, and I get lots of hugs."

"Kiba," I prod his grubby cheek which looks like it has some sort of flour paste stuck to it, with tiny bits of what smells like confectioner's sugar in his hair. "You know that's because you can tell when anyone arrives far faster than most people."

Truly, my little brother might end up the tracking genius of the family.

Sasuke seems to have shrugged off Kiba's insensitive comment without much of a hitch though, because he drags me along by the hand, Kiba still clinging to my middle like a rather large limpet, chattering all the while. "Kaa-san, let us help make you desserts!"

"They're very nice desserts," Shisui says, right next to my ear, and it's all I can do to not scream and shove him away.

"Did you sample my cake?" I ask him instead, after my heartbeat approaches something more normal instead of a runaway horse attached to a cart of cabbages. "I will be very upset with you if you sampled my cake."

At this, both Kiba and Sasuke look ready to take potshots at Shisui as well.

He laughingly holds up his hands, mirth dancing in his eyes. "No no, just the icing! Not the cake!"

A dark aura fills the space behind us. "I hope you didn't make Hana-chan's cake look ugly, Shisui-kun."

There's something sweet about Mikoto-ba's voice that makes shivers run up and down spines like the ghosts of spiders killed by newspaper rolls.

"No, of course not, Miko-ba." Shisui does not sweat nervously under the assault of his aunt, but perhaps it's a near thing. "Hana-chan's cake is very pretty. Really, very pretty."

Somehow, I doubt the veracity of the statement, but still, one can forgive him for attempting dessert theft.

In the kitchen, I can hear Chichi talking to the Triplets. This isn't to say that they responded in human speech, but more in the absent way that most people spoke to dogs.

"You know better than that," I hear him mutter. "Don't think I can't see you."

And that makes me laugh, because I know exactly what the Triplets have to say about this.

A kikaichu waves hello to me from the counter, right before Toku throws his arms around my neck from behind. "Hana-chan!"


Chichi and I walk down the street together after nightstick practice the day after my birthday, not quite hand in hand because he's actually quite taken to the Triplets, at least for this little bit even if he hasn't quite figured out who's who yet.

But it's only a matter of time.

Right now, he's patting Ni's back with an absent hand. "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean?" The only way to know what he means is to ask.

"This year," he says. "Have you been happy?"

It's a simple enough question, but it's not all that I hear. Were you happy with your birthday?

With me?

And so much has happened this year, so much good, so much bad, so much bad disguised as good in the end.

"It's been a long time since I celebrated my birthday." It's been so long, and for so many years, it'd been a reminder of the painful realities of living, of red kites and red stained sheets over hospital beds, like blood in snow, every memory rotting in the inferno beneath.

"It was a very nice party."

And something settles in the line of his spine, his features soften, and he gives San one final pat on the head. "Good," he says simply. "I did not want to presume."

"You didn't." I think he would be happy that I've grown. And I don't think Tou-san would hold it against me if I chose to be happy instead of grieving. "Tou-san wouldn't mind."

Chichi glances at me, a quick thing, dark eyes unreadable. "As you say."

I smile. "Of course I do."


It's some four or five weeks after my "surprise" birthday party over at Chichi's house where we stuffed ourselves with too many desserts and too many extra slices of cake, when I learn that Kakashi is in his most favorite place in the whole world and drag myself there after evening tanto practice to visit him.

The hospital's not quiet at this time of night either, because a good section of Konoha's ninja population is nocturnal and injuries don't really wait for the sunrise to crop up with alarming frequency.

"So," I plop myself down beside his hospital bed, "what are you here for this time that they won't let you out even after you begged and pleaded and threatened your way through a succession of nurses?" I'd heard about this from Guruko, who'd muttered here and there about it on our way towards the hospital.

Funny how Kakashi's dogs are willing to sell his disappointing and embarrassing behavior up the river whenever we get together. It's almost like they're invested in his welfare too.

He scowls and turns his face away. "...invalidated...ANBU."

I am fairly certain he didn't actually say a full sentence, because there's really no way I wouldn't have caught it otherwise.

If I could hear Kiba whispering at the other end of the house, I should be able to hear Kakashi's irritable mutterings not two feet away in a hospital bed.

Absently, I feed Guruko a treat for bringing me here. He'd been sticking his nose in my hand for ages anyway, probably able to smell the treats I keep in my pouch all the time.

Alas, I can't understand more than two words of whatever Kakashi's just said.

Which probably means that he's not even trying to talk in full sentences. But he should, because that's how adults communicate. Not that either of us are adults really.

I'm eleven and Kakashi's nineteen, which should be sort of adult, but isn't really. For one, he's Kakashi. For another, well, I couldn't really expect nineteen to be an adult.

"What's that?" I ask him, smiling brightly all the way.

"I said," he scowls harder, "I was invalidated from ANBU over my stress fracture in my ankle."

"You were?" That's before I process the rest of the sentence and start attempting to figure out the situation with his feet. Bone injuries are legendarily persnickety, and knowing Kakashi he'd probably tried walking on it.

Most definitely running and jumping.

Probably killed someone by kicking them with his fractured ankle too if I was being super honest with myself.

Kakashi was like that.

"I am having a moment." He tells me. "And I do not appreciate your lack of sympathy."

"I fail to understand." I deadpan at him, one eyebrow raised. "Why I should give you sympathy." In the meanwhile, I feed Guruko another treat.

Despite his persistent and worrying bone injuries — which he should recover from given recovery time — I am glad that he's out of ANBU. Which is selfish when it comes down to it, because I want him out because he is my friend, he's a part of my pack, and I had worried over him for the past couple months. To hell with whatever else that might throw off.

I hadn't been able to find him for months and even now there's a smudge of darkness under his one visible eye that says he hasn't been sleeping well. I hope it's not the nightmares of people past who've come back to haunt him in his sleeping dreams. I hope it's just the regular overworking sleep deprivation rather than the "I am going out of my mind" sleep deprivation, even though neither of the two are good. Then, I know better to ask if that's the case.

It's like touching live wire wounds. There's no good reason to do that to him.

"My career is over," he announces dramatically, a sigh and an eye smile too bright and plastic cheery to be pleasant. "You have to smuggle me out of the hospital Hana-chan!" he sing-songs.

"I am doing nothing of the sort." I tell him. "You need to recover, not make yourself worse."

He immediately restructures his argument into puppy pleading. "But Hana-chan…I'll die here all alone…"

I, who have become immune to such because Kiba is far cuter than Kakashi, resume my heartless charade. "No."

He pouts at me. "Heartlessness isn't a friendship virtue, Hana-chan."

"It is a virtue for shinobi."

To be real, not many shinobi are actually heartless.

To be human is to care about something. Still, it's called a virtue for a reason, the ability to depersonalize the enemy so you might stab them enough times that they die and not you. The best shinobi can do it. The people who wash out of the forces can't.

He falls silent at this for a long time.

When I next glance over at him, he's staring at his hands. "It really is, isn't it." It's not a question.

He sighs, "You're not really heartless, Hana-chan."

"I know." I know that I've never cut my heart out to dry into some sort of hardened stone, not in this life. It's why I'm here, sitting in a hospital room, trying to persuade him to stop injuring himself. "But I'm not smuggling you out of here because you're not going to help yourself."

I wouldn't know how I was going to smuggle him out either.

"You shouldn't tell me what to do, Hana-chan." There's something low in his voice, coming from the back of his throat.

"I can only hope for the best with you." Guruko is replaced by Bull. I feed Bull another treat, and pointedly don't look at Kakashi. "And I'd like to not see anyone throwing dirt over your coffin or putting your name on a rock. That would be nice."

ANBU is never predictable. Life as a jounin isn't either. No shinobi life ever is, but ANBU more so because of how spotty information often came in and the men and women who served under the mask and hood would just have to roll with it.

Kiho-bachan had mentioned it offhand once, though I could taste the pain behind the casual smile she'd flashed, the bad intel that had caused her retirement from ANBU and six months of her life lost in the hospital.

It'd cost her more, had cost her much of her youth and future, but she hadn't said that.

"I don't need to be coddled."

"It's not coddling." I breathe out. I breathe out, and I continue. "It's selfish of me, I know. But I'd rather not see you in a box anytime at all."

He barks a laugh at this, all brittle cynicism and full of hope at the same time. "How do I say no to that?" He turns to me, half grin and half grimace and the most raw and honest than I've seen him in a long time. "How do I say no to that, Hana-chan?"

I make a face at him. "You don't. The first rule of friendship is not dying."

"Aaah." He nods at this, pats Bull's head while staring at the ceiling. "Since Hana-chan is dispensing the wisdom of the ages today, what should I do in my incredibly mentally simulating hospital bed?"

I know that he's being snippy partially because he isn't someone who really has hobbies or things to do exactly. ANBU had been his life ever since he turned 14. Five years on and it's made a mess of him.

"Acquire a hobby!" I singsong at him. "Have you ever tried, oh I don't know, photography, knitting, paper folding, sculptures, coloring books, puzzles, theatre, baking, rock throwing, pigeon raising, Hyuga baiting, flower pressing—"

"Enough! Enough!" He slaps his hands over his ears even though I know that doesn't prevent him from hearing me if I choose to continue listing hobbies both normal and inane. "I bow to your superior wisdom!"

I examine him with great suspicion. "Really?"

"Really." He doesn't frown, doesn't smile, but doesn't seem entirely happy or sad, and certainly less snippy than he was just a few minutes ago. "Other people are always telling me that I should find something less self-destructive to do."

Something dark moves in his visible eye. "I almost didn't make it back this time." He lets the statement hang in the air, and I am so unhappy to know that my suspicions were likely more right than I'd assumed that I don't say much of anything at all. "And I regretted it." He huffs at me. "It's been years since that happened."

What can I even say to that? I have no words to offer him, no platitudes, no "it's better this way," no hopeful optimism.

"And it's all your fault." He tacks that onto the end, almost like it's an afterthought.

"Me?" I prod his arm. "What do I have to do with it?"

"The first rule of friendship is not dying!" His hundred megawatt plastic eye smile is blinding and horrible.

I tell him so.

He laughs. A genuine laugh, for the first time I've heard in months.

And it's enough.

It's enough.


A.N. And so we pass from sunshine into the valley. More developments up ahead for certain. But this chapter is a happy one, at the very least.

I've got about 2k of the next chapter written, so the wait should not be (sweats) four? months long, but I've had a habit of saying this in recent ANs so...I'm just going to accept I have no idea when things are going to be updated! :D that's really comforting I'm sure. I've been really busy with uni and with real life, but things are looking much better this semester than the last, so I'm tentatively hopeful. I've also been reunited with my chapter notes! A lovely thing to be sure.

Thank you so much to everyone who's favorited, followed, and reviewed. Your support never fails to both amaze and humble me.

~Tavina