- i do not own any of Naruto.
- i know that we're now at the end of january, but i just wanted to wish you all a very happy new year! i hope everyone is remaining safe and healthy in 2021!
- this chapter has been sat in my notes for most of the month, and i've literally finished the last few paragraphs just before posting this... so tbh, i barely remember what i've written, so rereading this will be fun :') enjoy!
- i'm also now on instagram, and my username is 'obitohno', if any of you would like to follow!

It is past midnight when Obito makes his way towards his uncle's house. The cool air pushes strands of jet-black hair back from his forehead, and it bites his cheeks and stings the tips of his ears, and when he exhales, a cloud of hot air billows from between his lips. His footsteps are slow, calculated, and his ears are carefully listening to every move his pursuer makes.

He'd noticed them the moment he had left Sakura'a—Pinky, as he has fondly nicknamed her—not that they're really trying to remain hidden. Either that, or they are just shockingly terrible at staking someone out. Obito guesses the latter. And for that reason, he decides to hold off confronting them until he's sure that they're a safe distance away from Sakura's apartment.

The recognisable sensation of anxiety churns in the pit of his stomach, and heaves its way up his chest. Subconsciously, his fist curls and tightens at the thought of his pursuer being so close to the pinkette, and it only worsens his mood as he continues to stroll down the pavement at a leisurely pace. Carefully, his left hand touches the front pocket of his jeans, feeling for the familiar length of his blade—Rin, his upper lip curls at the name he'd picked out—just as a precaution. For a short moment, he wonders if it is Kakashi following, but banishes that thought almost immediately. As distant as the pair may be at the moment, Obito is doubtful that his childhood best friend is one that would lower himself to a childish game of cat and mouse. Except, in this case, Obito thinks, making a sharp turn to the left and disappearing down a side street, the cat is the one being hunted.

No, Obito thinks, pressing his back against the wall and hiding his shadow behind a nearby tree, listening to his pursuer curse loudly, followed by the tell-tale noise of trainers smacking against the concrete as they rush to catch up with him. This time, he thinks, he'll allow the mouse to walk right into the cat's paws.

And so when a man—with violet-dyed hair, Obito notes with a frown—comes barrelling into view, yelping loudly when Obito's right hand shoots out and grabs him by the front of his shirt. The poor man doesn't even get the chance to fight back as Obito throws his entire weight forward, slamming the other man against the ground. There's a muffled grunt of pain that follows the sickening thud of the man's head connecting with concrete. Obito gives credit where it's due, as the man somehow stays conscious, even when Obito clamps a hand around his throat, squeezing tight enough to force out a choked cry. Leaning down, Obito snarls in his face, 'who the fuck are you?'

It takes a few seconds for Obito to realise the man isn't trying to fight back, and it's only when a pale hand weakly slaps against Obito's wrist, that he loosens his hold on the man's neck. Immediately, he wheezes as he struggles to gasp in a large gulp of air and his chest heaves from under where Obito is straddling him.

'You're following me,' it isn't a question, but Obito's voice is low, dangerous, an unspoken threat lingering between the two of them. Upon closer inspection, he realises that the man is older than himself, by quite a few years, he thinks. Not that it matters. Age doesn't matter when one is being followed in the middle of the night. And Obito is willing to end this man's life if he doesn't start speaking soon. A warning hand grasps a fistful of violet-coloured hair, roughly pressing the side of the man's face into the concrete. He is rewarded with a grimace, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so.

Yet, it is only when the cool metal of a blade is pressed to his neck does the man begin to splutter, 'w-wait, wait, wait!'

Obito's hold tightens in his hair, 'you have five seconds to start talkin' before I start cuttin'.'

'I meant no harm, honest!' The man rushes to speak when the blade digs into his neck, a slither of blood escaping. 'I-I was sent!'

'Who?' Obito hisses, eyes narrowed. The man whimpers below him, flinching when Obito's hand leaves his hair, only to pinch his chin, yanking his face to look directly up at him. 'Two seconds,' he warns. 'Who the fuck sent you?'

The man is hesitant to give an answer, sweat trickling down the curve of his cheek as Obito digs the blade in a little tighter. Throat bobbing, he starts to stammer incoherently, which only serves to irate Obito even further.

'Time's up,' Obito feigns an apology, lunging forward.

The man cries, 'T-Tsunade!'

Fist curled in mid-air, Obito pauses. 'What'd you just say?'

The man swallows again, expression regretful as he whispers, 'Tsunade sent me.'

For a long moment, the two stare at one another. Obito then scoffs. Of course he should have known better than to think that the Senju would trust him so easily. His hand falls to his side, but he remains sat on the man's chest. 'Fuckin' Senju,' he curses.

Violet hair sprawled underneath his head, the green eyed man appears visibly calmer, despite the nervous glance he aims towards the knife curled into the palm of Obito's hand. 'She's worried about the girl,' he offers an explanation, regrettably noting the gleam of anger that dances in onyx-coloured eyes that stare down at him, unblinking. 'S-She asked me to watch the place, that's all—I wasn't… I wasn't sent after you. Promise.' His smile is sheepish and pained at the same time, and Obito sneers at the sight of it.

'So you followed me… 'cause?'

'She didn't tell me about you,' the man replies, brows now drawing together in the middle. 'I saw you come out of the building, but you're not on the list—the only Uchiha on there is a kid called Sasuke—and I knew you were one of them—you guys are pretty easy to spot, and—'

'Yeah, yeah,' Obito drawls, now uninterested. He stands, allowing the man to hurry to his feet, breath coming out in puffs as he pats imaginary dust from his clothing. Obito watches him, almost feeling sorry for him. He's clearly a dolt, and with how easy it was to pin him to the ground, Obito already has little faith in him. Tsunade should have known better. 'You gonna be posted there everyday…uh?' He trails off, now realising that he doesn't know the man's name.

'Dan,' another sheepish smile. He offers a hand to shake, which Obito glances at with disinterest as he sheathes his blade, stuffing it back into the front pocket of his jeans. Dan scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed when his gesture goes ignored. 'And not every day. Me and this other guy have a rota.'

Obito takes the time to light a cigarette, scoffing when Dan declines the offer of one, because of course he doesn't smoke. He eyes the wound on the other man's neck and makes a motion towards his own with his spare hand, 'sorry 'bout the… you know.'

Dan laughs nervously, hand flying up towards his neck, 'ahah, no problem. It doesn't even hurt, see?' He then proceeds to prod it with his index finger, the corner of his mouth twisting into a grimace. A thin trail of dried blood stains his skin, and from where he stands, Obito suspects that it may actually still be bleeding.

'Should get it looked at,' he comments offhandedly, not particularly caring if Dan does go to get it looked at or not. He then turns on his heel and starts to continue his journey back to Madara's house. Behind him, he hears Dan rushing to catch up with him. Obito flicks his cigarette, watching the ash flutter through the air until it lands on the ground.

'I, uh,' Dan starts, eyes darting around them as if making sure they aren't being followed. The action makes the hairs on Obito's neck stand on end, and his body is immediately tense, eyes following Dan's trail. 'About Tsunade… I was going to ask if you could—!'

Obito's cigarette flies from his hand as Dan catches him off guard by suddenly tackling him to the ground. At first, he thinks the violet-haired man is just returning the favour, the breath knocking from his lungs as they both collide with the ground. And just as he grunts through what he guesses will be a bruise forming across the back of his shoulder, he hears it.

It's faint at first, so quiet that Obito doesn't hear it at first, squinting at Dan from over his shoulder when they've scrambled into upright positions, crouching behind someone's garden wall. Heart in mouth, he listens to the sound of multiple footsteps, gradually growing louder the nearer they approach their hiding place. Obito's hand flies to his pocket, and Dan watches him expose the blade for the second time that night, flicking it open, the shaft glinting as the street-lamp reflects from above their heads. There's a tense pause as the footsteps suddenly come to a halt, and a muffled, pained voice asks, 'hey! Why'd we stop—?'

Someone else hisses, 'shut up, Gai!' There's a scuffing noise, followed by the sound of someone's shoes tripping up a curb. And the same voice snaps, momentarily forgetting to whisper, 'for fuck's sake, kid—Gai, why'd you even bring him along? Poor bastard'll give us away tripping all over his feet like that.'

A third voice cuts into the conversation, 'you'll be the one to give us away if you don't shut your loud mouth.'

All tension is exhaled from Obito's shoulders. His head hangs low for a moment, before he rises to stand to his full height. Dan is swift to mimic him, watching as a small group of men suddenly round the corner, coming into view, at such a pace that it's a surprise that they don't all trip over each other. The first to notice him is Gai, who exclaims loudly, 'how great it is to see you, old friend!'

Obito glowers as Genma, signature lazy smirk plastered to his lips, leans close enough to thump his fist against Obito's left bicep. The Uchiha's nose crinkles in response to the non-committal 'sup? that is thrown his way. Genma doesn't even await his reply before his eyes dart to squint at Dan, who remains stood behind Obito. 'Who's this?'

'No-one—'

'My name is Dan. Nice to meet you,' Dan offers his hand for the second time that evening. And for the second time that evening, it is rejected. Faltering, the polite smile slips from Dan's lips, and he almost looks disappointed. Fortunately, Gai is nice enough to shove past Genma, ignoring his loud noise of protest, and roughly clasping Dan's hand in his own.

'A new friend!' He exclaims excitedly. 'I am Gai, and this is my young, budding apprentice, Lee!'

Beside him stands an uncanny look-a-like—one whom Obito has to do a double take at—dark hair cut into the famous Maito bowl-cut, and eyebrows impossibly thick. The kid is lanky, almost as tall as Gai himself, lithe frame dressed in a pair of running shorts and a tank top, both sewn from a hideous shade of green, like he doesn't feel the cold at all. He sports a grin that is as wide as Gai's, and Obito briefly wonders how the two of them met. There's an unspoken agreement to walk together, as their final destination is the same, and Gai takes the lead, dragging a stumbling Lee after him, 'come, Lee!'

Whilst Gai launches into conversation with a seemingly-overwhelmed Dan, Obito slips his blade into the pocket of his hoodie, eyes meeting Yamato's. The mousey-haired man nods towards him, offering a small smile in greeting. Yamato has never been one much for words, Obito knows this, and so he simply returns the gesture with a nod of his own, watching as he and Genma follow behind. And during this exchange, Obito realises too late that there is a final figure, who loiters at the back of the group, stood silently with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

Kakashi is weary of him, Obito notes, easily falling into step with his silver haired friend.

No words have to be spoken between the two of them. With one brief glance, Kakashi understands that things are okay between the pair of them once more. Not that he entirely understands why it wasn't in the first place, as Obito has yet to explain why he's avoided him for the past couple of weeks. Their last argument is something which Kakashi cannot place the blame on; the two of them have fought and forgiven one another for disagreements much more dire. No, Kakashi thinks, there is something else going on. Something that Obito purposely isn't telling him, which only increases Kakashi's apprehension.

From the corner of his eye, he watches Obito light a fresh cigarette, long fingers flicking open the cap and sparking a flame that glowers against his chin. And from this angle, Kakashi catches sight of the undeniable bruise that marks the place where Obito's pulse is. He hides his frown behind his mask, clearing his throat and accepting the ravenette's offer of a cigarette.

Again, he isn't even sure why he's irritated by the fact that Obito now shares the secrets to Sakura's skin, that he's now discovered the touches that make her breath hitch, or maybe he's also found the trickle of freckles that—

Tugging his mask down so that it rests just under his chin, Kakashi inhales a lungful of nicotine.

A part of him thinks that Obito has done it on purpose. To take something back from him, much like Kakashi had done five years ago. The thought makes Kakashi flinch, an action that he disguises as him pulling his jacket closer over his shoulders. But still, even though Obito engages in casual conversation—neither daring to broach the topic of a certain pink-haired doctor—Kakashi can't shrug off the feeling of suspicion. He's known Obito for over half his existence, a hell of a lot longer than anyone else that has both entered and exited his life. And a month ago, Kakashi would have easily said that Obito's trust expanded as far as his own; indefinitely. But now, as he begins to question whether Obito would still lay his life down for Kakashi's—a pact they'd made once they'd turned fifteen years old—the more he is convinced that Obito's night with Sakura only happened to serve Kakashi a taste of his own medicine.

But it's not like he can re-write the events of the past.

He's spent five years trying to apologise, and although Obito has never spoken of Rin since the night she walked away—despite the fact that Obito had begged her to stay—Kakashi knows that there has to be a part of Obito that will always resent him for the simple fact that it was Kakashi whom Rin had fallen in love with. It was Kakashi she'd chosen, it was Kakashi she'd wanted to run away with, and it was Kakashi who had promised to stand by Obito instead.

Not that Obito really sees it that way, Kakashi doesn't think.

No, the Uchiha are notoriously well-known for their unaffectionate stoicism, secrets, and unruly temper.

And whilst Kakashi would argue that for most of the time, Obito doesn't exactly fit in with the family trademark, as of late, Obito has definitely been living up to the Uchiha name. And Kakashi's point is proven correct when just as the group is stalking past the gate that allows them into Uchiha Madara's property, Genma decides to open his big, fat mouth, and makes the mistake of making a teasing comment about Sakura.

'So, c'mon Boss, tells us. Who's the lucky bitch?'

Obito's entire body freezes, and poor Lee's nose almost collides with the back of Gai's head when everyone comes to a sudden halt.

Kakashi's hand stills, cigarette halfway to his lips, and his gaze meets Yamato's. The unspoken message is obvious: change the subject.

Gai also receives the message, loud and clear, and immediately makes a big show of rubbing his stomach with one hand and exclaiming, 'oh wow! I sure am hungry! Lee! Dan! Aren't you hungry, too?'

The violet haired man looks confused, 'no…? Why would I be—?' He's quick to click on when he sees Gai's forced smile, swiftly changing his mind, 'actually, yes. Yes, I am. Haha, so hungry.'

'I am also hungry, Gai-sensei!' Lee responds with an over-enthusiastic fist pump that Kakashi would have snorted at if it weren't for the fact that his attention was solely fixated onto Obito, who was now glowering at Genma, who, by now, still hasn't realised that he really needs to shut his mouth.

'What you looking at me like that for? It's a good thing!' His smirk broadens, gesturing an index finger to the hickey that stains Obito's skin. 'I'm kinda proud; we all know you ain't touched pussy since R—'

'I suggest,' Obito says slowly, his jaw clenched, 'you don't finish that sentence.' Kakashi isn't blind to the warning that glimmers in orbs the colour of obsidian, a head full of dark hair inclining towards Genma. There's a gentle smile that traces the curve of his lips, yet it doesn't meet his eyes. It's uncomfortable to look at, Kakashi decides—he's earned his own fair share amount of fake smiles over the years—and it never fails to unnerve him.

Luckily, Genma isn't entirely stupid. He forces a smile of his own, and pretends that he doesn't see Yamato inching closer to him, ready to step in should he need to. Genma snorts, matching Obito's scowl with one of his own, 'I was just messing, Boss.'

'Hm.'

Obito ignores him after that, evidently irate, and for the remainder of the journey to the front door, no-one speaks.

The outside is definitely a sight to see.

The house is old, that much, Dan can recognise. It looks as if it were built several hundred years ago, all windows and with a porch that takes up the entire front of the house. Pillars stand tall, proudly supporting the top half of the building, and although painted a muted grey and black, the house is extravagant enough to turn anyone's head a second time. And as they make their way up the driveway, Dan can only admire the collection of vehicles that are parked in a neat row across the gravel. He catches a glimpse of what looks like a stable door at the side of the house, and he can only suspect that the garden is as grande as the building itself.

And when Yamato steps forward to rap his knuckles against the front door, painted an obnoxious scarlet colour—something which Dan thinks looks a little out of place—the group isn't at all surprised when a familiar face, with a shot of green hair upon the top of his head, answers the door. Zetsu regards Obito with a bored look, which is received with a frosty look of his own. Zetsu takes a step backwards to allow them through the doorway, pausing only when he sees Dan, who openly stares at Zetsu's hair.

Zetsu is curious of the stranger himself, 'who—?'

'Dan—'

'He's with us,' Obito grunts, tilting his head so that Dan knows to follow the rest of the group down the hallway.

Dan isn't entirely sure why he's even followed Obito this far—maybe it's fear or admiration, or both, he's not sure— but he's also kinda, sorta, definitely terrified of Tsunade discovering that he's now basically abandoned his assigned post, and a very large part of him hopes that the young Uchiha will vouch for him. Nonetheless, he offers Zetsu a polite smile before scuffling after the group.

The room that Obito leads them to is large, large enough that Dan comes to the exaggerated conclusion that he could probably fit his entire apartment at least twice in here. In reality, the drawing room is large enough to comfortably house the group of seven, along with the guests that are already awaiting their presence. There are a few faces that Dan suspects may be of blood relation, their eyes as dark as Obito's, all sporting eerily similar expressions of boredom. On one of the plush-velvet chaise lounge sits the young man that Dan recognises as Uchiha Sasuke, and slumped lazily against him is Uzumaki Naruto. Dan watches as Sasuke mutters something into the blonde's ear, to which Naruto's entire face lights up, and he struggles to stifle his laughter, pressing a curled fist to his cheek. The rest of the members, Dan hasn't a clue who they are. He spots a beast of a man, skin so pale that it almost looks grey, towering above another young Uchiha, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere but in this room. When the tall man catches his eye, Dan immediately looks away, pretending that he doesn't hear the loud bark of laughter that follows. He purposely dawdles at the back of the group, there is one presence that demands his attention.

And Dan has heard stories, of course he has, because, really, who hasn't?

But as Uchiha Madara looks at him from his place behind a charming desk, beautifully carved out solid oak wood, Dan feels his heart leap into the back of his throat. And suddenly, this seems like a terrible idea. He's dangerously outnumbered, he realises, sweat sticking the ends of his hair to the nape of his neck.

Madara stands, and the room is silent.

'Obito,' his voice is sharp as his attention shifts to his nephew.

Obito's stare is as hard as his uncle's.

The room suddenly feels cooler, and Dan watches as everyone crosses the room to gather at the dining table. Dan guesses that it's not actually used for meals as he eyes the discarded books and pieces of paper that are scattered across the table-top. In the middle, a map is spread out, large enough that Dan can clearly see the pins that have been stabbed through the paper, pinning it to the wood beneath it. There are several different coloured pins marked out, most green, a few blue and one pink.

Dan instantly recognises the location marked by the pink pin.

And then, he feels his own face paling as he also spots two red pins, one marking their current location, the other—to his horror—the destination of the clinic. He swallows hard, hoping that no-one notices him shifting from foot to foot.

'Boss,' Genma then says lowly, gaining Obito's attention, who tilts his head closer, allowing Genma to whisper into his ear. To Genma's left, Kakashi stills, eyes darting across the table, landing directly on Dan. The violet-haired man avoids his gaze, swallowing again, and then Madara speaks again.

He leans across the table to tap a long, scarred index finger against a green pin. It reads Kurama Avenue. The location is popular, Dan recognises, home to the centre of town and several nearby well-known businesses. Including that of the infamous Hawaiian-themed bar. Madara reaches into a tin, pulling out a red pin and switching it with the green. 'Update?'

It is young Sasuke who answers, expression neutral as he says, 'secured.' Beside him, Naruto's brows pinch together in the middle.

Madara nods, stabbing the red pin through the green's previous mark.

Dan stares.

He wonders if they've forgotten that he's still stood there, that they're clearly plotting to gain some sort of authoritative control over the city. In front of someone who, ultimately, is a complete stranger. And the longer he stands there—despite the fact that this is what he's been sent to do—the faster he wants to escape. Preferably before they expose the true reason he allowed Obito to lead him here. He wonders if the man in question has actually realised that Dan has followed him on purpose, but when he glances up, Obito isn't looking at him, eyes unfocused as he stares at the map, Kakashi whispering into his ear this time.

'And that of the Senju?' Madara asks next, tone clipped as he spits out the name.

'None other than the doctor,' Kakashi joins the conversation. His gaze is heavily-lidded as he stands next to Obito, the two almost evenly matched in their height, the Uchiha a simple inch taller. Both look at Dan at the same time. 'Except for him,' Kakashi says.

Dan silently prays that his smile doesn't show his nerves.

'And you are?' Madara asks, eyes gleaming with interest. Beside him, another Uchiha, with uncharacteristically curly black hair, hands Madara a folder. The older man opens it, eyes darting across the page quickly as he skims over the document. After he's done reading, he reads out Dan's name for the entire room to hear. 'Interesting history you have here, Senju.'

'I'm not actually a Senju—' Dan starts to deny, only to be interrupted.

'Says here you are,' the curly haired Uchiha sports a knowing grin as he nods towards the file that is still grasped tightly between Madara's right thumb and index finger.

'Kato,' Dan insists. 'My surname is Kato.'

'Does it really matter?' Genma's eyes are narrowing at him now, suspicious. 'You been fuckin' 'round with them. Might as well as say you're one of them.'

'Tsunade—Tsunade-sama—she's an old friend—that's all.' Dan is sweating now. He can feel it gathering at the back of his neck and trickling down his temples. It dampens the palms of his hands, and he tries to be discreet as he wipes them on his jeans.

The entire room is watching the exchange, and Dan's eyes immediately dart towards the door that leads back out into the hallway. Zetsu stands before it, arms crossed over his chest, his stare chilling as if he's daring Dan to even think of trying to get past him.

'If Tsunade trusts him,' Obito hums calmly, 'I suppose we can.' There's a pause as everyone nods in agreement, and then, 'Shisui,' Obito speaks upon seeing his cousin's lips part, 'you're scarin' him.'

Kakashi watches as Shisui backs off, albeit begrudgingly, choosing to stand between Itachi and Kisame, both of whom are yet to say a word. He scowls from the new distance, eyes still narrowed.

Madara drops the file to the table, seeming disinterested in continuing the conversation any further. Dan is grateful that he seems to be out of danger for now, but seeks a short reprieve to wash the sweat from his face. And when he politely requests to use the bathroom, Madara looks at him as if disgusted by the question, as do several others in the room, including the previously warm-welcoming Gai and his apprentice Lee. It is Obito who says, 'this isn't school—you don't need to ask permission.' His tone is light, teasing, but it still makes Dan feel ridiculed.

The entire room is staring at him.

'I—Uh—' Dan falters, embarrassed by his own tongue fumbling in his mouth, words incoherent before he manages a quiet, 'thanks.'

And as he turns to leave, Obito watches him leave—accompanied by Zetsu, who makes a show of true hospitality by offering to show him to way to the bathroom—upper lip curling into a cruel smirk.

The rest of the house is quiet—too quiet, but Dan is too anxious to notice—and by the time he and Zetsu reach one of what Dan presumes to be many bathrooms, he's sweating profusely. His hands shake as he splashes cold water over his face, Zetsu standing guard outside, and he thinks he might spew up the contents of his stomach. He chances a glance at the door, before looking into the mirror, and he prods a finger at the wound, the blood now dried, but the skin sore to touch. Quickly swiping a cold hand against the back of his neck, and slumping with the short relief it provides, he exhales. He regrets being here. He isn't even sure what in the heavens possessed him to agree to coming here. The information he's gathered isn't something that isn't known already. But the red pin that was marked on Tsunade's clinic is what worries him. He doesn't understand the significance—will she be the Uchiha's next target? Or have they already infiltrated the premises?—nor is he sure he wants to, but before he can dwell on it further, his thoughts are interrupted by raised voices echoing from the other side of the door.

And then, suddenly, the bathroom door is kicked inwards. It somehow remains attached to the hinges, but the force of which the door flies open is so harsh that it ricochets off of the wall behind it. Obito appears in the doorway, all anger and teeth bared as his nostrils flare. Instantly, Dan knows he doesn't stand a chance. Wild eyed, he lunges forward and Dan isn't even sure what happens next, but when he blinks again, he's lying sprawled on the bathroom floor and there's a terrible ache throbbing at the back of his head. He touches a hand to the source of pain, eyes wide when he sees the blood dripping from his fingers. He suspects that his skull had collided with the basin on his way down to the ground, if the blood staining the ceramic is anything to go by, but he's struggling to see now, his vision blurred. He blinks rapidly, just enough to see Obito come into his line of sight, looming over him.

'Sorry,' Obito drawls, not sounding very apologetic at all. And the last Dan sees is Obito's fist hurtling towards his face.

๑

The sound of someone repeatedly banging on the front door to her house is what wakes Tsunade from her slumber. It takes a few moments for her to recognise that she's fallen asleep in the living room armchair—again, she thinks begrudgingly—and debates ignoring her late-night visitor. However, just as she's rising from her seat, the corners of her mouth turning downwards as she frowns, there's another loud knock.

'I'm coming!' She snaps, hastily flicking the lock open and all but wrenching the door open so roughly that it produces a gust air that fans her hair back from her face.

She isn't sure who she's expecting to see, but when she spots Hatake Kakashi supporting the unconscious body of a familiar violet-haired man, she's sure that her surprise is plastered across her face. Without hesitation, she rushes forward to grab a hold of Dan's left arm that hangs limp by his side, and pulls him from Kakashi's grasp. Dan is heavy, slumped against her as she shifts so that his arm loops over her shoulder so that she has a better grip.

She doesn't pause to assess his wounds—although it's hard to miss the unmistakable sight of a broken nose with the blood that pisses down his face—and turns her accusing glare onto Kakashi instead. 'What the fuck have you done to him!?'

Kakashi's mask is pulled high up on the bridge of his nose, but it does nothing to hide the narrowing of his eyes. Hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, he says, 'a message from the Uchiha.'

'The Uchiha!?' Tsunade doesn't bother to hide her enragement. 'You did this? Why!?'

Beneath his mask, Kakashi fakes a smile, 'Boss' orders.'

Tsunade almost drops Dan on the pavement. 'You—!'

Kakashi interrupts, 'you should probably take a look at him. Obito was pissed.'

'Pissed!?' Tsunade repeats, spitting the word out so loud that Dan's head lolls against her shoulder, a small, broken grunt escaping his swollen lips. 'So pissed that he half kills a man!?'

Kakashi's eyes blink slowly, 'he's not dead.'

'Fucking look at him!' Tsunade hisses, but doesn't allow the silver-haired man to do as she says. She's already hauling Dan past the threshold of her home, cursing under her breath as she strains to places him into the armchair she'd previously occupied. Kakashi doesn't await permission to follow her inside, loitering by doorway after he kicks the front door shut behind himself. Tsunade manages to heave Dan into an upright position, swearing loudly as she inspects his facial wounds, tilting his head to the left with a surprising gentleness that Kakashi only raises an eyebrow at.

'Might want to check his ribs,' he mutters, meeting Tsunade's glare with a lazy, pensive look of his own. She doesn't question his reasoning, all but yanking the fabric of Dan's shirt upwards. The mottled black and purple is a stark contrast to his pale skin that has taken upon a sickly shade of white. But what worries Tsunade is the puncture wound that curves just under where she knows the seventh rib resides. Blood is already seeping from the large gap, thick and warm as it stains his skin. Immediately, Tsunade tears her own shirt off, completely ignoring Kakashi's stare, knuckles straining white as she presses it to the wound as tightly as she can.

'Fuck,' she chokes back the sob that almost slips out, sweat already trickling down the back of her neck, her brows scrunched in the middle. Without removing her gaze from her friend's face, she clears her throat, straightens her spine, and says, 'Hatake. I have an order.' Kakashi looks at her as if he already knows what she's about to ask him to do. And it is clearly no surprise when Tsunade then tells him, 'I need Haruno.'

Kakashi nods, but he's a moment too slow to comply.

Tsunade's expression is haunting as she desperately clutches at Dan, his blood now seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt, coating her fingertips. Her head turns and the look in her eye is almost feral as she barks over her shoulder, 'bring Haruno! Now!'