small edit to last chapter: takehiko has been taken alongside Hoshika and Touma

He's never told Toshiro that he loves him.

To be fair, Kakashi hasn't spoken of love in years—decades, even. There's the patriotic love for the village, but it feels more like monotonous duty most days. It leaves scars and ingrained exhaustion. It carves out whole swaths of him, leaving him empty and without identity. A wooden puppet for Konoha, to do with what they wished. Finding himself is the hardest mission he's ever taken.

Love is associated with pain, with loss and hearts in his palms and empty graves and jars of ashes because leaving bodies is too risky. Love is a gamble. It's terror and euphoria, his lungs squeezed of air and his blood roaring in his ears like the crash of a waterfall. He never understood what the saying 'butterflies in your stomach' meant until Toshiro. It doesn't really feel like butterflies—it's more like a thousand massive birds flapping their wings all at once, creating a hurricane in his solar plexus.

They've been 'seeing each other' or dating for a few months now. They've kissed and groped and fucked. But not once have either of them uttered words of love, relying on action to explain the coil of emotion connecting them. The words haven't really crossed his mind either, because he's content to pretend they don't exist. He can live without them. He can live without airing them into the open like dirty laundry. Maybe it'll be uncomfortable, maybe it'll hurt. Maybe he'll feel it lurking on his tongue or in his heart or at the forefront of his brain, rattling his teeth in an effort to be spit out.

Maybe one day he'll say it. The worst thing in the world would be to end up too late to his own confession. At any moment one of them could die. Kakashi is still keeping secrets that will one day turn into regrets to weigh on his consciousness and disrupt his sleep.

When the genjutsu settles over the arena, it drives an ice pick through his heart. The village is supposed to be the one place Toshiro can be safe, and now it's a warzone. The heat of summer on his back and the tang of iron condensing like a fog—the scent of blood, familiar—it takes him to memories he wishes he wouldn't dwell on.

It's home.

An explosion rocks the Hokage's box, but Itachi is already out and running to meet the attack of what looks to be Orochimaru. It's brazen, attacking like this. Orochimaru can't be desperate enough to think he can survive a full-scale invasion with powerful shinobi like Itachi and Hiruzen around, can he?

Kakashi observes Shisui placing a genjutsu on Suna's jinchuuriki, then leaps into the fray. The stands are packed with shinobi from Suna, Oto and Kusa, all of them moving with murderous intent. Some attack innocent, unconscious civilians, while most enter combat with Konoha nin.

This is his playground. The heat of battle, the glint of steel and tingle of lightning dancing down his scarred palms. The scent of blood is so prominent he can taste it. It coats his tongue and slips down the back of his throat. To Kakashi, the fight is his home away from home. As tired and run down and hollow it all makes him feel in the end, there's nothing quite like the way his heart sings and roars when it's him against another.

He'd been a child who felled men three times his size. That first kill made him sick, had soured his stomach and haunted his dreams. But another part of him felt fine. Proud, even. Because Kakashi is both man and wolf, and he makes a living out of plucking flesh from bones. Even as a child he'd felt the call, the terrible pull of the hunt. The joys of matching prey blow for blow and coming out the winner. Konoha is his territory. Toshiro and the kids are his pack. They belong to him and he to them, and no one could take that away.

Kakashi can't bring himself to say I love you, but he'll show it. He'll tear out throats with his teeth or slaughter a hundred men and women. He won't pretend he's kind or just. He's an assassin, a murderer, and he's good at his job and he likes his job.

"Sensei!" A blur of orange slams into the side of an enemy nin, a clever elbow sunk deep into a heaving gut. The nin tumbles down the stairs and gets their throat cut by the deft throw of passing nin's kunai. Naruto waves his hands at Kakashi, and the other two members of Team 7 thud into place at his side.

"We're here to help, sensei." Despite the tremble to her lips, Sakura stands firm.

The world around them is in chaos. The air is filled with the terrible stench of fear and death, it rings with the screams of half-awake civilians trampling each other in their efforts to flee the stands. There's a sealing barrier behind him where Itachi is locked in combat and Shisui hasn't yet left the field. Kakashi has to compartmentalize. His team may be genin, but they're capable. Sakura is brilliant, tenacious and swiftly becoming more experienced in medical ninjutsu. Shikamaru could pick apart any problem in less than five seconds and probably solve world hunger if he had a coffee and copious amounts of sugar. Then there's Naruto, the number one knucklehead ninja—who came up with the most spontaneous, unpredictable ideas that never felt like they should work, yet they always somehow did.

He's also the only person with a deeper than entry level knowledge of fuuinjutsu around at the moment.

"Do you see that barrier?" It's a rhetorical question, as it's kind of hard to miss. Kakashi curves his eye into a crescent, sharp teeth hidden. "I need you to break it."

Naruto grins widely, mischief in every foxy curve and line of his face. "Oh? You got it, Kaka-sensei!"

A wobble, the scent of fear and nerves. A flash of red. Kakashi meets scarlet eyes.

"I can h-help." The girl says, her features round and meek, glasses perched upon her nose. There's a Kusa hitai-ate on her forehead. Her skin is three shades paler, her eyes a bloody red to match equally carmine hair—but he knows immediately what she is.

Not a threat, for one.

"Can you really?" He asks quietly.

She looks a little like Naruto. But that's to be expected. He does have his mother's face, after all.

"Of course I can," she says, a hint of steel among fragile flower stems. "I'm an Uzumaki."

Naruto is in her face immediately, and standing so close together they definitely look more related than anticipated. It's enough to make Shikamaru's eyes narrow in contemplation and Sakura let out a quiet gasp.

"Your village is attacking ours, ya know!" Naruto exclaims. "Even if you're my cousin, that's kinda rude!"

The girl shakes her head, "I know that! But it's not like I can just tell them no when they order us all to attack! I don't want to, I don't even like Kusa—" She sucks in a breath, "I'm going to break that barrier for you and then you'll have to let me into Konoha—wait, what did you say?"

"You want refuge as an Uzumaki survivor." Shikamaru guesses, speaking over Naruto's babbling.

She nods. Naruto rocks back on his heels and observes her with squinted eyes.

"What's your name?" Kakashi asks, feeling more and more tense with every second he remains stationary.

"Uzumaki Karin."

"Uzumaki Naruto, ya know!" The blond jams a thumb to his chest, puffed with pride. "We're totally gonna save the day, just you wait!"

"Right," Kakashi snaps his fingers to get their attention. "Two Uzumaki are better than one. If you're going to do this, I need you four at your best. Karin, if you really want to stay in Konoha, take that hitai-ate off before one of our allies comes for blood. Shikamaru, Sakura, you're two of the best minds in your entire generation. The four of you together should be able to take down that barrier, I know it."

Team 7 stands to attention for a moment, all giving him their best serious looks. It doesn't suit their childish faces. Something in Kakashi's gut sinks a little. He wonders if this is how Toshiro feels all the time. He wonders why he never really saw anything wrong before now. Letting these kids out into the world—letting his kids, his siblings, his teammates, his students—it's terrifying. Confusing.

Can't afford to think like this right now.

"Go." He orders, disappearing in the same instant. Back into the battle he goes, leaving a trail of corpses. It's not that he relishes in killing, though it comes as easily as breathing. Death is simple. So simple. You never really think about how little it takes to end a life—there's always that perception that's hard, but human bodies are so fragile. They break from bad falls, short trips or a single cut in the right place.

Toshiro hates killing, but he'll do it. Without regret, even. Maybe he'll hate that it couldn't be ended in another way, but he doesn't feel bad about making the decision to protect. Kakashi thinks he understands that. Now that he's older, he's so tired of death. It gets harder and harder to ignore the fact that all these bags of flesh are people. His entire life had been a depressing monotony of both murdering and escaping murder—he wants to live now. He wants to take a different path, one of words rather than fists. He wants to come home and wrap himself around the love of his life until they die of old age—which is another radical thought, as Kakashi has always anticipated dying on the battlefield. Shinobi don't live long. But damn, does he want that to change.

With Itachi that might actually happen, so there's no fucking way Kakashi is letting the teen die.

How funny. Kakashi wants to live.

(Ink explodes across a sheer purple barrier, buzzing with chakra and shifting fluidly into a line of fuuin particles. Naruto's cackling laughter rings loud and clear across the arena, golden chains shooting from the little red-haired girl beside him. They pierce the barrier and intertwine with the ink, glimmering gold and obsidian. A pull, a creak. The barrier shatters into a cloud of disintegrating shards.

Shikamaru's shadow latches onto the one figure by the corner they'd situated themselves. ANBU Units swarm the area. Sakura screeches as the reanimated form of what looks to be the Nidaime Hokage flies past her.

"Watch where you aim you—Uh," Sakura coughs, "Hokage-sama."

Itachi offers her the barest hint of a smile, which in Uchiha is basically a huge grin. "Sorry, Sakura-san. I hit him harder than anticipated.")

"We tracked him to the northwest border, but he split off in different directions." Shisui slams his palm on the desk, eyes blazing. "He could be anywhere from Kusa to Yu. Akaya determined three separate scent trails. He couldn't distinguish which one was real."

While Konoha is a disaster outside, the recovery efforts have already begun. There's incredible amounts of work to be done, but at least the hospital is equipped to handle the influx of injuries. Able-bodied shinobi with medical experience flooded the streets to help those in need. Sakura, Sasuke and Kojika are sharing a district, wandering the streets and patching up civilians. The other kids are relatively unharmed and helping with the rebuilding effort. Clearing rubble is the biggest issue on the streets right now, as boring as it is.

Huddled away in the Hokage tower are Itachi, Shisui, Shikaku, Fugaku, Kakashi and Toshiro.

"We need a recovery team immediately." Fugaku mutters, leaning against the far wall to take pressure off his prosthetic. "Hatake, your dogs are more skilled than your sister's."

Kakashi hums, "You're not wrong. That doesn't mean they'll find anything different. Skilled tracker or not, this is Orochimaru we're talking about."

Toshiro focuses on breathing. He doesn't want to think about how Asuhi is probably still crying her eyes out with Mikoto and Yoshino. He doesn't want to think about exactly what might be happening to Touma, Takehiko and Hoshika—or her unborn baby. She's not exceptionally far along, either. Anything could happen. The stress could cause a miscarriage. The worst part is, he can't tell if a miscarriage would be the worst thing, not when Orochimaru is involved. Toshiro has spent too long reading that twisted man's notes to even want to consider what he could possibly get up to with a fetus.

And he can't imagine what Shisui is feeling. Because while those are Toshiro's little brothers, while that is Toshiro's best friend—a lover and a child is something else. A different kind of pain. Equally intense, but a strain all its own that Toshiro doesn't want to experience. He glances at Kakashi, who appears exhausted and determined. The man is slouching, but there's a look of murder in his eye that's barely kept hidden. He's razor wire, pulled taut and ready to snap, to lash out and gouge deep furrows—deep enough to leave scars. Reminders. Kakashi's fingers are still and motionless by his side, his gloves stained with blood.

"The Aburame will likely offer their services. A team with one of them would benefit the cause." Shikaku muses. Something monstrous lingers just below the surface. "Hyuuga, Inuzuka, Hatake—we're not short on trackers to choose from."

"Hate to say it, but tracking him is probably the easy part." Kakashi's voice is flat.

"That may be true, but we need to locate his base of operations before we can mount a rescue attempt." The Godaime steeples his fingers and sits back in his chair. "I want Shibi to lead Team Tsushika."

Shikaku and Toshiro share a glance.

Fugaku frowns at his son, "You don't think Chiasa-kun will act recklessly? Those are her little brothers. There's no way she's the best addition to a team like this..."

Itachi looks each one of them in the eye, "I think Chiasa is exactly what's needed. If anyone can be both level-headed and persistent in a situation like this, it's her. Team Tsushika is very easily pre-ANBU, and specialize in tracking and tactics. With Shibi's guidance, they're perfectly suited for a mission like this."

"I want to go." Hands clenched so tightly they've gone bloodless, Shisui meets Itachi's gaze with red tinging the black abyss of his eyes. "I need to be on that team."

"No," Itachi shakes his head subtly, "You don't. Your determination is understandable, but we need a team of the best trackers, and in your state there's no guarantee that you won't immediately seek to infiltrate Orochimaru's lair upon its discovery."

Shisui's curls shake with the bobbing of his head, "Itachi—"

"We need subtlety." The Godaime interrupts. "An emotional Uchiha is not subtle. If anything, Orochimaru will be expecting you. Regretfully, the man is no idiot."

Shisui's expression breaks, vulnerability spilling across his features. "I can't lose her. I can't. I don't know what I'll do."

You don't want to know what I'll do. It's left unsaid, but Toshiro hears it loud and clear.

He presses into Shisui's space and curls their hands together. "We're going to get her back. We're going to get all of them back." His wounds are all but healed, but there's nothing to be done about the pain in his chest. Three (and a half) of his loved ones could be suffering right now.

Shisui grips his hands back, teeth clenched so tightly they creak with the strain. He breathes out harshly through his nose. Determination and mania gleam in his flashing eyes.

"What of the Uzumaki girl?" Kakashi asks quietly.

"She's in T&I. If she passes, she'll be on probation for a bit. Considering the state of Naruto-san's apartment, I'm thinking of establishing a small Clan Compound for them and any other Uzumaki who turn up." Itachi glances between Kakashi and Toshiro, "Though I imagine she'll spend most of her time in the Hatake Compound like her cousin."

Kakashi sighs a bit, "Yeah, I thought so."

Despite the change in subject, very little humor penetrates the somber atmosphere. "Father, can you inform Shibi of his duties? Tell him to leave immediately and intercept Team Tsushika on their return. By now they should be approaching Konoha, so locating them shouldn't be difficult."

Fugaku nods at his dismissal, casts a final glance at Shisui, then leaves.

"Shikaku-san, please set up a meeting about the current security. It seems we're due for some upgrades...and I want you to include Uzumaki Naruto on the roster."

Everyone in the room starts a bit at the declaration, and the grim set to Shikaku's mouth curls into something wicked. "You got it."

That means Kakashi isn't going anywhere. As a Clan Head, he's going to be pulled into the meeting to deal with the Council and all the legal action that'll need to be taken. There's prisoners to deal with, bodies to dispose of and a security system to repair.

Toshiro sighs and squeezes Shisui's hands one more time before letting go. "That's my cue to get back to the hospital. You should find Gai and join the construction efforts. It won't make you feel better, but doing something productive might settle your nerves."

"Yeah," the Uchiha responds robotically.

Toshiro isn't sure the other man really heard him at all. Too much tension thrums in the man's taller body. The Uchiha are likened to fire, for both their passion and chakra natures. Shisui has never felt more like a bomb than in this moment, the fiery wrath roiling just below the surface. He's a bottled explosive. A can of soda that's been shaken, pressurized and ready to burst. Shisui will gut Orochimaru or die trying, and Toshiro can't even fault him.

He exchanges a look with Itachi, and sees the concern he feels mirrored in the faint creases of the younger man's face.

Asuhi cries herself to sleep that night. Naruto tries to quiet her with the news of their cousin, but she's inconsolable until she conks out. It seems like every kid ends up piled in one room that night. Crawling over each other and clinging to sleep shirts like they're scared to let go. This brush with death has left them with new scars, invisible ones. Scars that will etch into their brains and haunt their nights.

Spilling blood is easy.

Dead bodies are messy.

Toshiro works long hours that night and comes home to a dark house, with too many kids in one room yet somehow not enough, as two are missing. They cover the floor and spill off the bed, but he has no desire to wake them. They look peaceful, or as peaceful as one can be after a traumatizing day like today. All of them had worked so hard, especially during the initial crush. Guarding civilians, academy students, each other—they'd saved lives today, all of them. He's sad, but also proud of them.

As exhausted as he is, he still manages to strip out of his dirty, bloody clothes and hop into the shower. The warm water over his aching muscles is heavenly, and he sighs underneath the hot spray. The sound echoes around the bathroom, hidden among the pattering of falling water. He's just stepping out when he hears the bathroom door open. Kakashi pokes his head in, silver hair looking a little droopier than usual.

There's a damp sheen to it that tells Toshiro the other man's hair is still drying. He'd probably taken his own shower an hour before Toshiro even got home—it always takes forever for the Hatake's hair to dry, with how thick it is. His hitai-ate is gone and he's wearing a loose black shirt and sweats. The sharingan is kept carefully closed, so it's only one steel-dark eye that peers over Toshiro's wet, naked form.

A flicker of interest passes over Kakashi's face, but it fades shortly after. The day's events have left a cloud of depression over everyone. He steps fully into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. With no risk of being spied on, the mask is dragged under his chin and his handsome features are exposed to the damp, muggy air.

Toshiro pulls on a pair of cottony shorts and sits down on the toilet seat to try and hide the way he's trembling. His soaked hair sticks to his skin and sends droplets spiraling down his freckled flesh. The towel hangs limply in his hand, gripped tight enough that the veins of his knuckles bulge. He feels such an indescribable rage that starts from the crown of his head and makes its way down, like a hot flash.

Anger at his own lack of power, anger at the world he's found himself in, anger at Orochimaru. A little bit of anger at the decision to even make friends in the first place. Then again, he's much better now with them. They've become his family, his everything. Back when he held everyone at arm's length, he'd been inexplicably lonely. People like Inoka, like Shikaku, like Shisui and Hoshika and Itachi—they've become his rocks, changing the surging currents of the river that made up his life.

They've been doing so well, too. Konoha was going to be better, was getting better. He wanted to be past the murder and lies and loss—but perhaps that had been too much to ask for in a world like this. There were more countries than just Hi no Kuni. More people on this planet than Toshiro could ever meet. All of them are broken in some way. The Elemental Nations had never known true peace. It wouldn't do to forget that. He'd let himself grow lax in thinking that things were getting better. They were, but not enough to let his guard down. Which he'd done, foolishly.

I thought we were safe here. In the village that had never truly been safe.

Kakashi crouches before him, taking the towel from his clenched hands. He lets it go without protest, and they sit quietly as Kakashi dries Toshiro's ash-blond locks.

"It's not your fault." The older man whispers, his sultry timber echoing in the small space.

Toshiro exhales in wry, mocking humor. "Doesn't exactly make me stop feeling like it is."

Kakashi tosses the towel over the curtain rod to dry. "Yeah," he mutters awkwardly, then kisses Toshiro soundly on the mouth.

He indulges for a second, then pulls away. "I don't want to do anything tonight, Kakashi."

"I know," the man says, "I know, I was just." He holds himself still, one hand clenching and unclenching as he tries to find the words.

Ah, Toshiro thinks to himself. That's probably it, isn't? He doesn't know what words to use.

"It's not bad, as far as comforting gestures go." He decides to cut the man some slack. "I don't need pretty words or assurances, Kakashi. I just need you to be there."

"Until my last breath."

Toshiro leans forward and all but collapses into Kakashi's arms. Corded muscle and soft cotton press against his shower-warm skin. Scarred hands card through his hair with all the grace of someone who's never done such an intimate action before. Kakashi holds his wrists too stiffly. It brings a slight smile to Toshiro's face, which he presses into Kakashi's neck, along with a kiss. It's not heated—just soft. Thankful.

"We're going to get all of them back." Kakashi echoes Toshiro's earlier words to Shisui. "No matter what, we're going to get all of them back."

"I know." Toshiro whispers back, presses the words into Kakashi's skin. I hope, he doesn't say.

"You can cuddle me if it'll make you feel better."

Toshiro snorts, "You know, it just might."

When they curl into bed, Toshiro wraps himself around Kakashi from behind. He presses his nose between the taller man's shoulder blades and inhales the scent of timber and ozone. The contrast of the night air and the heat of Kakashi's body gives rise to goosebumps along his arms. His toes come in line at the back of Kakashi's ankles, and not once does the older man complain about their difference in temperature.

Aside from the kidnapping, the other big issue concerns Kusa and Suna. As far as Toshiro knows, Oto as a whole is being shoved firmly in the Orochimaru category. Kusa is being dealt with on the political playing field, as they've continually lost shinobi and resources since the second war. At this point, they're on their last legs and lashing out like a rabid, dying animal. That aside, Kusa is still by no means weak, they'd lasted this long between major shinobi countries without being squashed—and the best way to fight them was through diplomacy.

According to Itachi, the influx of money to Konoha had drained Kusa significantly. Enough to make them join Suna and Oto in a calculated move. If Konoha was weakened, then money and missions would disperse to the other lands. Throw in a new, young Hokage and they thought they had it in the bag.

Toshiro spends the next few days working at the hospital until he's drained and dead on his feet. After, when he lays in bed feeling like a bruise, he can't bring himself to sleep. Not soundly, or even through the night. He's woken by his own awful thoughts, the stress manifesting itself into night terrors that leave deep circles under his eyes. Some nights he can't even bring himself to touch Kakashi

He'll lock himself in his own room or, if he just wants to have Kakashi's presence, curl at the other side of the bed with his back to the man. Kakashi never tries to touch him then. Toshiro is thankful for that—because on those nights it's like his skin is a million tiny needles, oversensitized to the point of pain.

It really is the waiting that's the worst part.

There are teams looking—more than just Shibi and Team Tsushika now—but genin can't go, and Toshiro's position doesn't let him take missions like those out of the village. They have to wait and trust in the village, and in the shinobi that Itachi sends out. It's absolutely awful. It's taking more time than anticipated to locate Orochimaru's base, and they have to jump through political hoops by contacting the smaller countries and getting permission to search the lands. Not all of them are forthcoming in allowing scouting shinobi into their lands to potentially spy.

He barely has time to comfort Shisui.

Luckily, he doesn't exactly have to. That team of Shisui's goes the extra mile. Kojika, Chouji and Shino really pulled together to support their Sensei, from bringing him meals to distracting him to helping him plot murder.

Then there's Karin.

She's covered in scars, teeth marks lining her arms, shoulders and legs. They're faint in certain lights, but anyone within five feet can see them. Her skin is tan, the scars a few shades lighter and far too numerous. She's only thirteen, and the sight makes him sick. Toshiro is the one to give her a check-up after she comes out of T&I.

She really does look like Naruto—in the face, mostly. Coloring aside, they have the same softness to their jaws, the same ears, mouth and nose; or at least, they're similar enough to make it obvious that they're related. In most clans, the members all look a certain manner that pegs them as such. The Uzumaki were no different—though their red hair was the most prominent signifier. Asuhi doesn't share many features with either of them, but she's probably only half Uzumaki and takes after the non-Uzumaki parent. Even her hair is the color of deep garnet and mahogany, while Karin's is bright, eye-searing scarlet.

To prevent further retaliation by Konoha, Itachi convinced Kusa to give them Karin. Permanently. It was obvious to everyone that she was a victim suffering the aftereffects of the Uzumaki massacre. Even if Kusa had provided her sanctuary from the black market hunters and kekkei genkai killers, they still abused her abilities. They would have bled her dry without a second thought.

Kusa wasn't particularly happy about losing their Uzumaki, but unless they wanted war there wasn't much else they could do.

"Your Hokage is a good person," Karin murmurs. She's watching every move Toshiro makes as he proceeds with the check-up. "His chakra is amazing."

Toshiro grins at her, pretending he can't feel the texture of a hundred bites lining the soft flesh of her arm. "He's one of a kind, that's for sure."

"And...the other Uzumaki here…" She trails off. "It's just those two?"

"Yes," he replies quietly, pulling away to make a few notes on his chart. He's already written down her height, weight, chakra output and blood pressure. She runs a little warm, but he makes a note that it's a Clan attribute. "You'll probably be living with Naruto, so I hope you two manage to get along. He spends most of his time at the Hatake Compound, however. You're welcome to join him if you wish."

Karin looks down, a blankness to her features that tells him she hasn't entirely figured out what to feel. Like she's struggling to understand that this is all real. She looks so small sitting there on the examination table. "He seems...warm. His chakra is kind."

Toshiro adds sensory abilities to the Clan Attributes section.

"Yours is too," she adds after a moment. "You feel like spring water."

"Oh? Thank you."

Karin pushes her glasses up her nose, a flush high along her cheekbones. "Yes, well! Don't think too much into it, okay?"

He manages to chuckle, noting her spirited character. Even after all the trauma she must have suffered—

"I think you and Naruto will get along just fine."

For the first time since she walked through the hospital doors, Karin looks hopeful.