Yamashiro Aoba needed a drink. Someday, he was going to get it. A nice, strong beer. Or two. Maybe three. The more and more the jackass attempted to pick the locks, the deeper he went. The stronger the walls became. If he wanted an easy target for mental torture, the snake shouldn't have chosen him or been such an opportunistic asshole. Aoba was the torturer, not the tortured. He was damn good at his job.
It seemed like the song never ended in his mind. It just kept repeating, the same unrecognizable language. The same lines. Miho's song. The one that had been in his mind for years now. It'd morphed into nightmares that he wouldn't confess he'd had. A soundtrack to more deaths than he could number. Flashes of white light.
Never break the chain
He was a strong man. A man with fortitude. A badass. He considered himself clever, smart.
His jutsu was reactive. For all the effort put into breaking down the wall, the wall would only become thicker, soaking up their chakra. It was a twist on one of the Yamanaka techniques made for prisoners of war.
Aoba was a prisoner of war.
Like his father before him. He hadn't thought about his father in years.
Never break the chain
Genma's eyes when the snake swallowed him, when he'd seen Aoba's arm torn off, when he'd seen the spray of blood and muscle, would probably haunt Aoba to the end of his days. More clear than when his father left for the war and when he found his mother at the bottom of a bottle. However long he lived, and he suspected it wouldn't be long, he'd remember Genma's face.
Hayate would never let him live it down, losing his arm. It was about time they had something on him after all these years. He was too cool for his friends. And they knew that.
Never break the chain
This song had been playing in Miho's former life, when the whirlwind swiped her metal carriage from the road. While she hung, impaled and upside down, dying. He wondered if that was a coincidence, that he was hearing it echoing in his mind now as he lay dying with his mind being devoured by a monster. He could hear the winds howling.
Or was that his own screams?
If Orochimaru got what he wanted, and it was so clear what he wanted, what were the chances that he would use that knowledge to resurrect the sealed Hokages, stop chasing after Sasuke, and help with the takedown of the Akatsuki? To stop this nonsense plan of Obito and Madara? The Images showed that Orochimaru's path would never work. That Kabuto lived out Orochimaru's path and it ended with Itachi. This Orochimaru would never see that. He'd use the knowledge to turn the odds in his favor and his favor alone.
"Oh, Aoba. My decisions depend on what I see."
Never break the chain
Aoba felt himself shudder, trying to push chakra he didn't have into maintaining the walls.
"Evidence is something I appreciate. I'm a scientist after all."
Babies. Children. Mutilated. In the name of his 'science.' Evidence. The bastard.
For a sickening moment, Aoba imagined Miho instead subjected to the nightmares he'd seen during the laboratory raid. He remembered a large ANBU standing at the back of the lab, shoulders shaking with rage as he stared down at a small, still form. What if Miho lay there on a lab table with her father arched over her, crying behind his mask at the nightmare? If Danzo had his way, if Orochimaru...Miho's Images never showed her that massacre.
"Akimichi Miho, is it? She is the origin of these so-called Images?"
Never break the chain
"Interesting."
He would be the first to admit that he had a poor grasp on "normal." Shin had been raised to be a brainwashed member of a shadow shinobi organization, trained from acquisition to be an emotionless tool. "Normal" was a blurry concept. Genma-sensei said, more than once, that "normal" didn't really exist. It was a fake idea. There were baseline, expected, behaviors and then, deviations from those expected behaviors, but what was "normal" in one situation by one person in one context was not "normal" to others in other situations in other contexts.
Who was Shin to say what was "odd" and what wasn't?
Still, Shin thought that the reception of the Akimichi to the capital palace of Grass Country was… odd.
Off-putting.
It set him on edge.
Akimichi Chōji was clearly anxious, wiping his hands on his pants as he moved through the large gate toward a welcome party at the far end of a wide-open marching ground. Shin knew that Miho's brother was trained for diplomatic missions since birth with commonplace visits to the seat of the Daimyo of Fire. He was no stranger to politics or courtly manners. Obvious anxiety wasn't good courtly behavior. Shin wondered if it was due to something else.
Miho moved across the courtyard with a practiced elegance that others might say didn't match her size. Each step was sure, measured, and her eyes never once deviated from where she was staring toward the Daimyo. His teammate enjoyed messing with expectations. Subverting them. People assumed her to be clumsy or uncoordinated due to her size.
Assumption was a weapon as sure as anything else.
People, Shin realized quickly after his release from rehabilitation, made habitual assumptions.
People were irrational.
People were mean.
People, by and large, were judgmental.
Surprised expressions and coy sneers met the Akimichi siblings as they arrived to stand before the Daimyo of Grass. It was all demurely hidden behind painted fans and raised hands, but Shin could see it. And he could sense it. He could feel judgement prickling in the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He wasn't entirely sure what was inspiring it, but that kind of reception didn't seem normal for a court.
"Lord Akimichi! Welcome! Welcome!" The Daimyo called out from his raised dais, gesturing out with both arms as if to embrace them. The dias was clothed in green and gold silks, no expense spared. "You are most welcome here!"
Shin came to a stop at Miho's left side, following the lead of the two Akimichi as he bowed. The pleasantries were exchanged. Typical politics and formality. He let his attention fall to two court ladies speaking in quiet tones at the fringes of the assembled court. All of which was unnecessary for the delivery of a signed trade agreement. A performance.
"— relying on the Akimichi. Clearly, they're not in want of food." There was a small giggle. "Incredibly rich, though. They can spare some of their harvest."
Shin wondered if they realized shinobi were trained to have enhanced senses. His eyes moved from the women to the side of his teammate's face.
Miho didn't react, nor did he expect her to.
At least, not so obviously as a verbal call-out.
Instead, his teammate made a show of her silk scarf that rested in the crooks of her elbows, adjusting the way it rested against her hips. It was a flaunt, quite obviously, as her eyes rose again and met the stares of the courtiers. A theatrical flaunt of her wealth and status, just as much as this welcome to a dais and a platform swathed in fine linens.
"And you must be the Lady Akimichi Miho."
At this, Miho bowed once more. "Yes, Lord Daimyo. I am Akimichi Miho. I wish that our rice brings your people comfort." Her voice was sweet, quiet, kind. Shin could feel the accusation in it though. The people would likely never see much of the rice Grass was to receive. Miho knew that. Anyone with any sense knew that. From the healthy, full belly on the daimyo and the full cheeks of the courtiers, there was no want for food in the palace.
Shin's eyes left the dais and the assembled nobles to the shadows of the wall surrounding the courtyard. Tucked on the other side of a half-opened door, a young girl's bright blue eyes were staring back at him. Her face was thin and her hair stringy and limp as it fell to her shoulders. Sun-reddened skin blotched with exertion. Shin knew the look of malnourishment.
He'd felt the ache of it once.
"Come, come! Let us talk about this deal between our countries."
The little girl turned and disappeared out of sight as the Daimyo rose from his seat, a great green umbrella blocking him from the sun as it was extended over him by a servant. His pale skin had likely never been unprotected from the heat of the sun.
A flare of irritation struck Shin with such ferocity that he had to gulp it down. A leader should never treat their people with such disregard. It wasn't right. A leader should place the lives of others before their own, should go hungry when the people are starving. A leader should experience the sun as their people experience the sun. Glancing to his right, he followed Kakashi-taicho's lead, accompanying the Akimichi to an inner garden.
"First time to a capital?" Shikamaru questioned with a raised brow, a bland look on his face. Shin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Nara didn't resist that urge, his own dark eyes rolling to stare at the sky. To any civilian, the Nara may have appeared off-guard. Shin knew better, of course. Any shinobi that looked relaxed was confident and deadly. "It's easy to forget what it is like in the capitals."
Perhaps it was because Shikamaru was a member of a clan that he didn't realize that the same issues existed in Konoha. There were children who were thin as bone, who took scraps where they could. There were nobles who spared nothing and a government that took advantage. Shin knew that better than most. More than a few skin-and-bone orphans were fed to a madman for the sake of the village. Himself included. What about the capital was all that different?
Shin hummed, following Kakashi-taicho's signal to approach with Miho as her close-range guard. Meanwhile, Kakashi and Sakura took up long and mid-range guard. Team Ten mirrored this with Shikamaru moving forward as Chōji's close-range.
An ornately carved tea house sat at the center of the garden. A sōzu water fountain made sharp clacks nearby as water trickled. The space might've seemed warm and inviting if it were not for the way servants anxiously waited at the rice paper doors with trays of colorful cookies and a tea set. The clack of the fountain grated on Shin's already frayed nerves.
Opulence and performance, but no substance.
Miho glanced to him as she followed her brother into the small house, carefully kneeling at his right side. Her eyes met his. Be patient, she seemed to say. With only so long as a member of the Book Club, Shin wasn't entirely sure what that particular glint in her eyes meant. Tetsuya was better at reading through her noble mask. Still, Shin could see something that had the familiar coolness of that persona falling over the set of his shoulders.
Concern.
Miho— his teammate— was anxious.
Two men followed the great lord into the house, sitting at his right and left. Shin settled himself in the corner, keeping alert.
He glanced to Miho once again to find the flash of fear gone. She would not allow him to see that emotion with no purpose. And she had trusted him to understand.
"The honorable heir of the Great Akimichi Clan. You are most welcome here." The man on the left smiled, lips curling. He was young, but already balding. There was something to the tone of his voice, like honey, that set Shin further on edge.
"I trust you have brought along the deal? Yes? Excellent, excellent." He gestured toward the other man on the Daimyo's other side. The older man merely nodded his head. "Tojiro here will see to it that the signed agreement is expedited to the capital of Fire with our lord's signature. As I understand it, your father is there now?"
If Chōji sensed anything awry with the meeting, he gave no indication. Shin had never seen Miho's brother in such a formal situation before. Still, even Shin could see that the glass-eyed, doughy-faced smile on the Akimichi heir was an act. To fool others into complacency.
Chōji was many things. A fool was not one of them.
"Yes, our Lord Father is in the capital with our Daimyo. He regrets that he was unable to meet with you himself." Chōji propped his hands on his haunches and leaned forward in a bow. Miho mimicked the motion. "We are hopeful that this deal can support the population of Grass in this crisis."
If Shin did not have a decade of training in controlling emotions, he might have grinned at Chōji's words. By no means was Miho's brother a pushover, but to make such a bold statement to a daimyo while affecting such noble airs, it was a bold move. He didn't need Tetsuya whispering in his ear for Shin to know that.
The eldest of the nobles, Tojiro, smiled. "Indeed." His dull green eyes moved to where Miho's head was still bowed. "And you must be the Akimichi second-born."
"As you say, my lord."
"Perhaps you will do us the honor of serving tea?"
To anyone else, the smile on Miho's face when she lifted her head was serene. The kind of smile a well-brought-up lady might wear when entertaining. If Tetsuya were around, he'd scoff at it. Tetsuya was raised in this world until he was disowned and cast out of it. All smug good manners and airs. Performance. Having a visiting noble prepare tea was an insult and Miho shouldered it with grace as she drew one knee up and then the other to stand in her kimono.
It was only then that Shin became more aware of the tea instruments near the open doors closest to the fountain. Miho moved to situate herself between the two parties, her back to the open door. He grew more on edge, hoping that Kakashi-taicho was keeping a perimeter watch. It'd be all too easy for Miho to be attacked from the back. Shin saw her eyes cut toward Chōji as if to silently communicate something as she began preparing the space for the ceremony.
The Daimyo was sweating.
That sweat was glistening on his forehead from the sun that filtered in through the open door. In the pervasive silence, Shin could hear the hum of the town below, the singing of birds, the quiet trickle of water, and the thump of the fountain. The Daimyo's sweat was out of place.
He held all of the power in the room, didn't he?
Shin had a kunai in his hand in the next second as Miho yelped, the tea set falling over and spilling onto the floor. "Oh! Oh! I apologize, Lord Daimyo!" The tea soaked into the mats and Miho hurried to clean the mess up as a servant was summoned. In the distraction, Shin noticed that Miho slipped something back into her sleeve. "The journey must have tired me out and I haven't had anything to eat since this morning."
A lie. She'd eaten three bags of cookies on the way to the palace, fished from her kimono sleeve.
"Do not apologize, Lady Akimichi. There is no harm done and your journey was a long one. Allow my servant to clear it up."
Miho moved away, to Chōji's side once again. She bowed her head to him, as if apologizing for such a mishap that could damage the Akimichi name. When she lifted her head, still facing away from the three noblemen, Shin watched as she looked to Shikamaru. Shikamaru, whose expression did not change in the slightest.
"We will have some snacks instead." Her face paled for a moment before she turned her eyes to Shin, concern alight in them once more. The mask fell back into place and she turned, settling formally on the floor once more. She smiled, so very obviously pleased by the idea of food.
"I have heard the flower cookies of Grass are a delicacy here." Miho commented, voice a bit simpering.
Trays of small cookies were set before the nobles. The trays were wooden and inlaid with gold and jade. The cookies were shaped into leaves and flowers. It was a show in extravagance. The Grass Daimyo clearly wanted to demonstrate to a noble clan of Fire Country just how noble those of Grass could be. How rich he was, despite his need for the trade agreement. All of this finery and there was a little girl who was starving in the palace.
"The agreement is more than fair. To us." The younger advisor announced, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn't matter if the terms were fair. "It's clear that those least benefiting from this are the Akimichi. Strange, that." The man's eyes flicked up to Shikamaru at one corner of the room and Shin on the other, as if they were representative of that strangeness.
The man's tone was leading as he took a small bite of a pink flower cookie. Shin thought his voice sounded coy, as if he knew something he should not.
"We know the struggles of those in your lands." Chōji noted as Miho shifted to reach for one of the cookies on his tray. This movement was not missed by the Daimyo, whose eyes widened as Miho took a small bite from a cookie before setting it down for her brother to take up. "We wish to help, Lord of Grass. Through this agreement, though we may benefit less now, we ensure peaceful talks between our land and yours. That is, at least, our hope."
"What do you know of taxes, Lady Akimichi?"
Miho's eyes traced over to the oldest man, stopping in her taste testing. Chōji smiled pleasantly around the first cookie, but did not take up another while she was distracted. "I've been taught economics since I was able to speak, Lord—"
"Tojiro. And I'm not a lord. Just an interested party."
Interested party? He waved her off and reoriented his question. Shin could sense that both Tojiro and Miho knew that they were information-gathering. The dynamic in the room was tense and layered, punctuated now by silences and the clack of the fountain outside. This visit was not meant to be a difficult portion of the journey. It was a means to the end of rescuing Yamashiro Aoba.
Shin watched Tojiro lift his brows and gesture lazily with his hand. "Let's assume that the Akimichi are shouldering the export tax, which is outlined in the deal. Let's also assume that the Akimichi are paying both the property taxes and the typical clan taxes as well in Fire. That puts their taxes— your taxes— well above what is considered fair in our country. Much less, yours." His eyes flickered over to Chōji before settling on Miho again.
It wasn't good diplomacy. Shin knew little about courtly manners and trade agreements, and he knew little of normalcy, but this didn't seem normal. It also didn't seem normal for such an inquiry to be directed at Miho rather than the clan heir, who sat watching the exchange. Miho was even, face carefully void of any reaction.
He thought she was the weak link.
"My question is really this, Lady Akimichi: who did the Akimichi piss off?"
The Daimyo shifted uncomfortably, sweat glistening on his forehead, but he said nothing to waylay his subordinate. This man— Tojiro— held equal or more power to the Daimyo himself.
The younger of the advisors smiled pleasantly, reaching down to gather a cookie from his tray. He may have seemed passive, if he were not so carefully watching as Miho lowered a maple-leaf shaped cookie back to the tray before her.
Before Miho could respond, Chōji took up one of the cookies on the tray, eyeing it for a moment between his thick fingers. Miho's eyes snapped around to him as he popped the untested cookie into his mouth, grinning around it as his eyes closed. Shin was incredulous, but kept his outward surprise in check. Miho's mouth hung open for several seconds before she snapped it closed, obviously grinding her teeth.
"We offered our support out of kindness." Chōji spoke around the cookie in his mouth. "If the kindness of Fire and the Akimichi is going to be perceived in such a way, perhaps we will rescind the offer."
"Kindness?"
"Your people matter, just as much as those from Fire. That is what we are taught. No matter if we are separated by borders, your people are still people. All of us are interdependent, no matter how we try not to be." Chōji smiled, swallowing the last of the cookie. His eyes were closed with the force of his cheeks. The younger advisor shifted. "We wish to help."
"An odd notion from a shinobi." The Daimyo commented with a demure smile. His voice was shaking.
"Is it?" Chōji wondered aloud. "Regardless, the people benefit."
"I suppose so." The lord nodded and gestured vaguely as if the conversation were over. On the Daimyo's right side, Tojiro watched Chōji with sharp eyes as the Akimichi stood. Miho followed his lead, remaining at his shoulder. Her eyes never left the elder advisor. Shin glanced over to where Shikamaru was standing, a small smile on his lips as he pressed both hands into his pockets. "Your generosity will not be in vain, Lord Akimichi."
Chōji bowed low. Miho followed suit. "Thank you for your hospitality. We'd like to make good headway before lunch." Chōji kept his expression doughy, soft. His voice though, was steel. He wouldn't be waylaid any longer. Shin was impressed by it. "We truly wish you the best as you navigate this drought. And, Lord Tojiro? You're not as up-to-date on your intervillage gossip."
Shin watched as the man's eyebrows rose before he nodded, a slight tilt of amusement to his lips.
The Daimyo snapped his fingers and a servant appeared in the doorway, bowing low. There was a clack of the fountain outside, as if punctuating an end to the meeting. "May the Akimichi prosper." Shin did not miss the growing surprise on the younger advisor's face. Though he tried to hide it, the man was obviously shocked. Perhaps at how well the meeting went, despite his counterpart's attempts otherwise? Or the likely poisoning attempt with the tea?
"P-Please do send our respect to your Lord Father, Lord Akimichi."
As they excited the private garden, Sakura and Kakashi-taicho fell into step, careful to maintain sightlines and guard. Shin noticed Shikamaru and Chōji share a look as a thunderous expression came to Yamanaka Ino's face the moment her eyes landed on the bigger Akimichi. Shin, if he were less trained, may have cringed. It was clear that the Akimichi was being chastised, likely in thoughts as the Yamanaka tended to do. Miho, for her part, remained aloof and carefully elegant as she walked.
Shin didn't quite know what "normal" was, but he would say that meeting was anything but.
"Poison?"
Chōji shrugged and Miho barely – just barely – resisted the urge to hit him. She rarely got the urge to harm her brother, but this was so incredibly stupid that it almost bore a smack. He shot her a glance, lowering his eyes to the forest floor for a moment before a semi-pleased smile broke on his face. For all that it was a stupid, stupid move, Miho knew that he felt good about it. Confident. Superior, even. Given the chastising look on Asuma-sensei's face, he thought the same.
"You shouldn't be proud of being poisoned, Chōji." This was said with all of the patience of a teacher whose students constantly confused the hell out of him. "And you shouldn't be amused that they tried to kill you." Chōji's smile dropped, but his eyes immediately tracked to Shikamaru for support. Shikamaru kept his gaze fastened to the sky, though he was smiling.
Typical.
Miho let out a breath and turned, pulling the ornament from her hair as she moved away. They'd made it to the Beta Site with no incident and it was only a matter of time until Team Kurenai arrived with intel. Shin followed her, taking the items as she shucked them from her body. She knew he was following because he was concerned. She didn't really need help getting undressed.
"Genma-sensei would be spitting senbon." He stated after a moment, pulling the obi to release it. "They did no research. Of course you would recognize poison in the tea."
"The whole thing was amateur hour, wasn't it?" Miho sighed, hurriedly pulling the silk sleeves from her arms to step out of the draping fabrics. "Someone tries to frame me for killing the Daimyo and his advisors. And someone tries to poison two Akimichi with food. Ridiculous." Shin was lingering a little too long at her back and Miho bit her lip, trying to quell the lingering anxiety. As soon as the Daimyo had called them to a private meeting with tea utensils, but no actual tea prepared, something in Miho's gut told her it was not good.
Her instincts were right.
"I knew something was wrong. Visiting nobles and you have one of the highest-ranking members of that clan prepare tea?" Miho realized she was rambling as she stripped away the layers, throwing them all at Shin. He caught them dutifully. "The Daimyo seemed to know it was coming, too, judging by his sweating. So, they must've had the antidote prepared. If they'd done any research and knew who my teacher is, then..." The spotted warmth of sunlight through the trees was the only thing keeping her from shivering. "And Chōji just decides to poison himself."
She wrenched the vest off, throwing it at the tree. It landed with the Akimichi symbol on the back flickering under the leave-kaleidoscope sunlight.
"For show."
The anger was building and building, filling her stomach and piled high to her tightening throat. Stupid.
Chōji's okay, Miho. Ino's voice melted into her mind. Spinning to face the gathered camp, Miho met Ino's eyes immediately. Her friend seemed calm. Calm, after her teammate had eaten poison. Shin was used to these silent mannerisms, clearly understanding that someone else- Ino- was talking. He instead set to unsealing her clothes as she dragged a cloth over her skin to remove the scents. He's fine.
Scents could only harm a kunoichi in the field.
He was trying to prove a point. He didn't need to poison himself to do it. Miho scoffed, throwing the towel onto the fallen tree as Shin held open her yukata top for her to thread her arms into. "I've been trained to be immune to most poisons since I joined Team Five. My teacher is a poison specialist. You think Genma-sensei was going to let any of us be weak to poisons? On his team?" Miho scoffed.
Shin said nothing, obviously deciding discretion was the better part of valor. Or, that she wasn't talking to him. Irately, Miho shoved her legs into her pants before finally reaching the end of her patience. Nearby, Sakura looked up from where she was adjusting a strap on her sandals. Kakashi-taicho and Asuma-taicho were talking quietly at the other end of the clearing, ignoring building tension.
Miho glanced at Chōji to find him slowly chewing on his fifth bag of chips since leaving the palace.
Something snapped.
"You got poisoned on a rescue mission to prove a point!" Miho grabbed her vest and gestured at her brother across the clearing. He looked up at her, chip-laden hand stopping halfway to his mouth. "Demonstrate the strength of the Akimichi through willfully consuming poison. Brilliant, Chōji!"
"I've been trained to eat poison same as you, Miho." Chōji responded, voice too even. Too resigned. There was that hard look in his eyes. That sharp kind of look when he was determined, when he was convinced he was right.
Rage bubbled up on her chest like indigestion.
Miho strode across the grass barefoot, pointing at Chōji with the same hand holding the vest. The Akimichi symbol clearly visible. "I know you have. I was with you when you were recovering, remember? I held your hair back when you were throwing up. But what if you were wrong? What if you couldn't metabolize it fast enough? What if you were out of commission right now? In the middle of a mission? In the middle of a rescue mission?" Hearing a noise to the right, Miho whipped around to glare at Shikamaru, who sat under a large oak with his eyes closed. "You always have something to say, Nara."
His eyes opened and his brows knitted together. She hadn't called him 'Nara' in…Miho couldn't remember how long. His dark eyes rolled to the sky. "What a drag."
"You really think I don't know you at this point? You got something to add?" Miho shot back, irritated at his interruption. "Let's hear it. You always know what's right, right? Smart plan, then?" His brows shot up and his mouth opened in shock.
"You think I wanted Chōji to poison himself?" Shikamaru's tone was sharp, cutting. Miho pulled in a breath and reoriented to Chōji. Arguing with Shikamaru was a waste of time. Even if he was wrong, he would be obtuse and there was no winning.
He wasn't the one who did something so stupid.
"Miho…" Ino started, taking a step toward her team.
"It was either you or me, Miho, and it was gonna be me. They'd already tried to frame you for the poisoning. Eating the poison was the only way to end it. I'm sorry you didn't like it." Punctuating his statement, he threw a handful of chips into his mouth. Conflict was shining in his eyes, but he didn't budge. Not a single bit of remorse was there. In fact, he was eating his chips slowly. Miho gritted her teeth.
"Miho, finish getting dressed." Kakashi-taicho called. His eyes were now focused on his book, the meeting with Asuma over. "Our guess is that Team Kurenai is only about five minutes out. We need to be ready." Miho stared at him for a long moment before glancing down at her open yukata top, exposed armor, and the lack of bracers on her arms and shoes on her feet. Stupid. She was being stupid. Letting out a sigh, she lowered the vest and turned on her heel. What good would it do to argue with him?
"Trust me to make the right decisions, Miho."
I did.
Stopping, Miho turned her head to look at Chōji over her shoulder. He'd stopped eating, watching her back with some barely hidden trepidation. As if she would scoff or tell him that she couldn't, wouldn't trust his decisions. She'd trusted him before and it didn't go so great. Her gut— the same instinct that reminded her of dark spaces and dirt beneath her fingers and to-be-continued horrors— told her to tell him that he hadn't earned it yet. That he would never really earn it. She couldn't lie, so she just turned back toward Shin.
He's trying. Ino's voice came into her mind. It was subdued, controlled, patient. Miho, he is trying.
Then, Ino faded away.
Sometimes, she wished Ino would stay out of her head.
Miho situated her top, tying the sash, and slipped her feet into her boots, pulling on the vest. Shin met her eyes before handing her the forehead protector from where it laid on the fallen tree. With a sigh, Miho moved to sit on the tree and Shin leaned against a pine that stood only a foot away, arms crossed over his chest. With a surreptitious glance toward the other team as well as Kakashi-taicho and Sakura, his hand flattened over the pine's bark, establishing a three-foot privacy seal. Miho watched the chakra burn a green circle before flaring away on the breeze.
Her eyes fell on their captain, who glanced over from behind his book before looking at the pages once more. Implicit approval.
Resolve it. Now.
Letting out a sigh, Miho released the tension in her shoulders.
"You're letting your distrust of your brother affect the mission." Shin said, voice level. Miho tensed, jaw popping from how hard she was gritting her teeth. "I don't blame you for doubting him. Your entitled to that. My question is: can you work to your best ability if you're constantly distrusting him in the field?" Miho shifted and pulled in a breath. "You want to know my opinion? As a strategist? Not as your friend?"
She nodded, looking up at him.
Shin's dark eyes hardened. It was his harder self emerging from the shadows. "It was a good decision, finding the quickest way to exit the palace before further political maneuvers could be made to waylay us from our primary mission: recovery of Yamashiro Aoba. Your brother saw the shortest path and took it."
Adjusting the right bracer, she locked it in place. He had a point.
He was right.
Miho had never been one to lose sight of a mission. And to do that while Aoba-sensei was suffering…Miho felt ashamed.
"It's not because you didn't trust him. It's because he scared you. You were worried." Shin pushed off the tree and moved to stand in front of her. "I understand, but you can't let it affect the mission. We need you focused. Aoba-sensei needs you focused." She nodded, shoving away the guilt she felt as reason settled in.
Aoba-sensei's life was more important than this.
Shin must have noticed the shift because he smiled, a tinge of victory there. "There's my babycakes."
Scoffing, Miho stood and shoved a bit at his shoulder before he released the seal.
"All issues resolved then?" Kakashi-taicho asked as he walked up, book still in hand. Sakura looked uncertain behind him, glancing between Miho and Shin.
Swallowing down a swell of guilt that burned her throat, Miho decided the direct approach was the best route. There was no time to waste. "Chōji, I'm sorry. I overreacted." Chōji's head jerked up from where he was staring at nothing on the forest floor, hand again halfway to his mouth with a fist full of chips. His dark eyes widened, and he looked moved by the declaration. "You got us out of there so we could be here sooner. I wasn't thinking. And I was worried."
"Quick resolution." Asuma-sensei commented off-handedly with a startled expression, as if he didn't know such a quick resolution was even possible among teens. "What in the world did Shin say to you?"
"He did what Genma-sensei always does." Miho stated with a deadpan expression, one that had Asuma and Kakashi cringing. She grinned, knowing that they were likely picturing a joke or some sort of pun. Shin puffed up proudly, clearly preening from what he knew to be praise. Because Genma-sensei always, always called them on their shit.
Her eyes turned to Shikamaru, who was watching the exchange with the slightest smile. When he realized that Miho was staring at him, he stared back for a moment before rolling his eyes skyward. "Troublesome."
"I'm sorry for snapping at you, too."
"Yeah, sure, whatever." He shrugged, but Miho saw a small tick upward on his lips.
Ino approached. "If only we could resolve all issues so quickly." Miho snorted when the Images appeared of episode after episode of drawn-out angst. Most of it over issues that could have been handled with an apology and some responsibility. All of Miho's previous frustration and anger was gone and in its place was some relief that her brother had just accepted her apology. Of course he did. He's got so much he wants to be forgiven for. He's not going to hold out on you because you were worried.
It seemed now that the tension was resolved, Sakura couldn't resist her questions any longer. "I know Akimichi are trained to resist poisons because it's easier to poison them than others, but—"
"Doesn't mean poison doesn't do anything to us. Just that it takes a hell of a lot to actually harm us. We have such control on our metabolism and we process the poison too quick for it to affect us unless it's in large quantities." Miho shrugged, pulling out a bag of protein balls from her pocket. She popped on in her mouth. "Genma-sensei thinks it's cool 'cause he gets to test poisons with basically no huge consequences."
There was a groan from the two jōnin. Both of whom, Miho assumed, had little appreciation for her sensei's sense of humor. Of course her teacher didn't test poisons on her! Did they even know Shiranui Genma? He wouldn't risk her or anyone else for that. But clearly, they thought it was possible. Grinning, Miho looked over to where Ino was standing. Her friend smiled ruefully, obviously seeing where Miho's thoughts were going.
Shin chuckled, nodding. "She's right. It's always something new with Genma-sensei. Last week, he said poisoning Miho without consequences was—"
"A plus side of me being plus size."
If Asuma nearly walked into a tree, then Miho would keep it to herself until she got back to Konoha. Genma-sensei would enjoy the hell out of that one.
Kakashi-sensei called out. "We have inbound. It's Team Kurenai."
Chewing on two protein balls at once, Miho shifted to see all four team members land in the clearing while her brother shifted to stand. She and Shin moved to stand with Sakura, who pulled her pack onto her back. Shikamaru was the last to stand, letting out a sigh as he did. "Well?" The previous shaded good energy disappeared, replaced with the same overwhelming anxiety and dread that had choked the team on the way to the palace.
"Intel was good. Aoba is there. He's alive. Just barely." That's all she offered, but Miho saw the solemn expression on Kiba's face and the carefully blank stare of Hinata's eyes and knew. The worst. They had to be prepared for the worst. The anger she'd felt before at Chōji was just an ember compared to the maelstrom that was beginning to gather at the edges of her senses. Aoba-sensei didn't deserve this.
It was her memories that put him in this position in the first place.
"Orochimaru?"
Kurenai shook her head. "Not there. We count about fifty-two chūnin-level guards. It's a lab-like facility. There's at least fifty holding cells with prisoners. The location is mountainous with a five-point sentry. After that, Aoba is located on the third sub-level in a laboratory. A surgical assault is recommended. Shino was able to tag him."
All eyes turned to the Aburame and Miho watched as he settled both hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "There is a queen on Aoba. Why? Because that queen will allow us to find him should he be moved from the laboratory." It was a reminder of how Team Kurenai was specialized.
"Good work." Asuma commented, looking around the group.
"It's a trap." Kakashi-taicho sighed, shutting his visible eye.
"Most likely," Shikamaru agreed.
There was no way that Orochimaru would leave Aoba alive if he had everything he wanted from him. He would be a loose end and Orochimaru did not seem the type to let loose ends fray. It had only been three days since Aoba's abduction. Even if Orochimaru had the Images, then that knowledge could affect his plans in the future. It could affect his decision-making in the present. If he knew that he would be alive once again, survive, then perhaps…
"Well, there's no time to waste. Let's get started."
Twenty-minutes later, a plan devised, Miho ate her final protein ball and leapt into the trees.
Never break the chain
Aoba felt the walls shatter under the onslaught of dark chakra that flooded through his body. It burned, writhed, fell like a torrent on the chakra walls he'd built. He could feel as they cracked and finally, as they gave way. The chakra was hot, searing its way across his mind. He could see and sense it take shape.
He felt himself shift until he hung. Until something pierced his chest. Until the chakra swirled around him in a gale.
Never break the chain
The swirling dark chakra pulled everything into it, like that nightmare reality. It pulled his chakra, his self, everything he thought he was. He was a strong man, but really...really...He was powerless.
Powerless to stop the coming war. Powerless to keep another kid from feeling so alone.
The Images were pulled into the dark chakra too. It fused with the colors, the drawn stories. Each remembered narrative and side tale. Each character. Miho's half-remembered feelings and fears. The bright lights, the blood and gore. The dark chakra, the curse, swept them up and carried them away.
Aoba realized, too late, that Orochimaru was inside his mind.
"And what an interesting mind it is."
Notes:
Thank you all for your patience. It's been much longer than I intended. COVID-19 put such a strain on my work commitments that it was near impossible to find the energy to write. Finally, I decided that I need to create the time to write since writing is my escape. Thank you so much for your comments, favorites, and follows! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm looking forward to moving forward with Bear the Weight!