As always, Naruto belongs to Kishimoto.

Hours of practice left Hinata tired and drained, but not so much that she ignored Akamaru when he appeared at the compound, barking like the happy puppy she remembered.

Akamaru alone and pensive meant something was wrong with Kiba. Akamaru happy and alone meant either Kiba was going to get Shino for them all to meet up or he was too lazy to come get her himself. Whatever the reason, Kiba expected her to come, and with everyone preparing to leave the village, Hinata wasn't going to miss out on what might be the last calm meeting for a long time.

Shino waited beside Kiba when she and Akamaru arrived. It'd been efficiency and not laziness this time.

Hinata jumped down from Akamaru's back and joined her team. "Kiba-kun, Shino-kun. I'm glad we're meeting before we leave." They both nodded in agreement.

"You get your assignment yet?" Kiba asked.

"Sort of. I'm in the Sealing Corps. I'll get my unit assignment once we join the other villages."

"We're in a similar situation," Shino said, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was a calming action to create familiar constraint when everything around him was unknown. "We're both in the Fifth Unit, Special Forces. We could be assigned to assist any of the other units."

Kiba didn't appear any happier about the uncertainty. He let out a low grumbling growl and leaned against Akamaru's shoulder.

That Hinata didn't have a permanent placement yet hadn't bothered her. She knew where her family would be, scattered across all the units, and that gave her comfort. Now she empathized with Neji and the others wondering where she'd be. Not knowing where someone she loved would be fighting, if they were where the casualties would be worst or safely out of the most terrible battles . . . it felt like a part of her was adrift and nothing she could do would pull it back.

"I love you both," Hinata said. The words needed to be given voice, in case she never had the chance to say them again. "You're as much my family as the clan. I can't imagine having been teamed up with anyone else."

Ignoring what would certainly be a competition of irritated aloofness, Hinata stepped in between her teammates and pulled them both into a hug. Kiba experienced the world best physically, and though he'd never admit it, Shino enjoyed such simple affections.

"Thank you for being the best friends I could have ever asked for."

To her surprise, neither balked at being dragged into her impromptu three-way hug, which said more than either would dare convey to the other in words. Respect of course, but also care and deep friendship. This was their little family. They might get on each other's nerves—oftentimes intentionally—but they would never let go.

When she finally released them, Kiba scratched at his nose, his cheeks a bit redder than before, and Shino's bugs scurried over the backs of his hands as if not sure what to do.

"We might not end up fighting in the same unit," Kiba said, his voice serious, "but if we do, we stick together. If one of us needs help, we go to them, no matter what."

Hinata smiled and nodded. For Kiba, that was as good as 'I love you, too.'

"To do that, we need a way to know when we're in trouble." Shino held his palm up and two bugs separated from the swarm to rest in the center of his hand. "If you're in trouble, killing this will alert my kikaichuu and I can call the other to go to the one in need."

Kiba's brow raised as he looked at the bugs. "Seriously, we're going to be in battle. How are we supposed to stop and figure out where your bug is hiding to kill it, or even notice if it leaves?"

"You'll know exactly where it is and when it leaves." The hint of a smirk showed above the high collar of Shino's coat. "Say ahh."

Kiba and Hinata stared at each other as the realization dawned on them, and they grimaced in mutual horror. Understanding and accepting how Shino's kikaichuu lived in him was one thing, experiencing it themselves was another. Hinata still sometimes felt phantom itching in her arms from the time she'd been poisoned and Shino's father used his kikaichuu to remove the toxins.

Kiba shook out his head in frustration and growled a very dog-like sound. "Fine, but if you tell my mom I allowed this, I'll kill you."

"I'm not about to tell my father, either," Shino said.

After one last glance for moral support, Hinata and Kiba reluctantly opened their mouths. The two tiny bugs split up, one flying to each of them. Hinata resisted the urge to gag as the feeling of tiny legs crawled inside her cheek. She curled her tongue to the other side of her mouth to keep from accidentally scooping the bug up and swallowing it. A small but sharp pain tore at her cheek and blood mixed with saliva as the kikaichuu tunneled a temporary home through the soft tissues of her mouth.

Beside her, Kiba appeared no less comfortable with the process. He spit a bit of blood out. "Shit, did it have to burrow in?"

"You don't want it coming out when it doesn't need to," Shino said. His voice was placid, but Hinata could hear the amusement in his cadence. "Being in your mouth will ensure the scent travels each time you breathe out for the rest of my kikaichuu to track. Bite down to kill it, and the scent will change to alert them."

"And how are we supposed to get a dead bug out of our cheeks if we do that?"

Shino held his hand up and the bugs danced with excitement over his skin. "The rest can retrieve it once you're no longer in mortal peril. Unless you can't handle a single bug and need me to stop in the middle of battle to remove it."

Shino baiting Kiba would escalate if she didn't do something to mitigate the situation. Maybe they both wanted the fight—to escape into the familiarity of old rivalries in the face of something as overwhelming and unimaginable as war. But this wasn't the time, no matter how much stress it would relieve.

Hinata placed a hand on Kiba's arm before he could raise it to punch Shino. "If it means we're there for each other when we need to be, a little discomfort's worth it. After all, we are the best tracking team in Konoha. It'd be pretty pathetic if we couldn't find each other."

"As if I couldn't track you two in a battlefield with just my nose." Kiba huffed, but his body relaxed back into a casual slouch and a fangy smirk. "But I guess it'll help to know when you need me to come save the day."

Hinata took Shino's hand in her free one, letting the security of her team reassure her. "Even if we aren't in the same unit, we're in this together."

Shino and Kiba nodded.

"Always."

Hizashi slid the door open as quiet as possible, but, even so, two pairs of white eyes opened long enough to judge if there was danger before returning to sleep. His children were far from kids anymore, yet to see them lying in the same room brought back memories of tiny bodies clinging to each other through the night. In the morning they would all begin the journey to meet up with the rest of the Allied Shinobi Forces, and Neji and Hinata would experience war for the first time.

Was it better that it was a common enemy for all villages, that this would not be another time where hatred is sown with each death, vengeance calling for new vengeance? If one war could ever be better than another, Hizashi thought so. They would have the strength of all the villages behind them, and that felt like a miracle he never imagined would happen in his lifetime.

But it was still war, and Neji and Hinata were still his children. This time he couldn't protect them. His only choice was to trust them to protect themselves.

A presence walking down the hall caught Hizashi's attention. It wasn't heading his way, but that didn't mean he was meant to ignore it. Closing the door so his children could get the last good night of sleep they'd have in a while, Hizashi followed the presence into the kitchen. They didn't waste space families could use with setting up a dining room, so the person waiting for him leaned back against the empty counter as he waited for the kettle to boil.

"Were they able to sleep?" Hyobe asked.

Hizashi nodded. "Aware, but asleep."

"Good. They should rest when they can. You all should."

"I wish I could." Hizashi massaged the tension from the back of his neck. "It feels like the night Hinata was taken, teetering on the edge of peace and war. Only this time there's no way to stop it."

"It reminds me of the third great war. We'd been at peace for long enough that we wanted to believe it would actually last this time. Then it didn't, and we knew it would be our children who would die next."

"One of yours did die for that war."

"Not the one I worried over though."

For once the old bitterness that had defined Hizashi's relationship with his father felt nothing but exhausting, and he was tired enough without adding decades-gone grievances. So what he said next came out as a question instead of a criticism. "Did you worry for me?"

Hyobe closed his eyes and exhaled slow and deliberate. "We may not agree often, and you may resent the choices I've made for you and Hinata, but you are my son. No matter how much you hate me, that will never change. I will always worry when there's a chance you won't come home."

"I can't say I've always felt like that was true." It wasn't an admonishment, merely a fact. "Being sealed earlier than any other main family sibling, my exile to the branch family, and you were quick to agree to my taking Hiashi place when Kumo asked for his head. For most of my life I've felt like the extra child you had to deal with."

The kettle whistled and Hyobe retrieved two cups from the cabinet. Preparing the tea was a distraction, but one they both needed to gather their thoughts. Tonight was not the night to say the wrong thing.

The household hadn't recovered many luxuries like proper tea leaves to steep in a teapot, but one of the cooks had purchased teabags from a merchant who'd arrived after the village was destroyed. Hyobe set one in each cup and poured the water in. He handed a cup to Hizashi, then lowered his gaze to the slowly browning liquid cradled in his palms.

"I wish you and Hiashi hadn't been twins. You're transition to the branch family would have been easier if you'd been born a few years later. I wouldn't have needed to seal you so early or send you away when I did . . . the way I did. And I would not have been forced to decide which of my sons' deaths would be worse for the clan if the option had not been there."

Hyobe wrapped the teabag string around his finger and bobbed it carefully in the hot water. "I don't know that I would have acted differently if given the chance to try again. The decisions I made were necessary, no matter how callous they were. I had to put the clan first. But I do wish there had been another way. And, I'm sorry for the pain I caused you—you and Hiashi."

For more than a decade, Hizashi faced those same choices in one form or another, and they weren't as simple as he once thought them to be. Yet he didn't feel that the situations were as rigid as his father believed. Hizashi found other paths. Branch and main meant nothing to Hinata and Neji because of the choices Hizashi had made. Hinata proved herself to be capable of leading the clan not despite leaving the clan, but because she left the clan and gained the confidence she never would have found within the walls of the compound. There were other choices.

Hizashi swirled the steaming tea until the color turned a consistent brown throughout. Most of his life he'd blamed his father for putting Hiashi and the clan before him, but was Hyobe so different from Hiashi? Had Hizashi not seen with his own eyes how being raised as heir created this clan-first mentality. Generation after generation given only one choice: choose the clan. Why then should they see another path and think it one they could walk instead? Why think that putting the clan first might be the wrong choice?

"So much of what I thought I knew has changed since returning to the main house. I understand the main family better now than when I was a part of it, but I don't see it the same way you and Hiashi did. Hinata will never see it they way you do, and I believe that's exactly what the clan needs, even if you don't agree. But I'm tired of blaming you for being exactly what the clan created."

Hizashi drank the weak, bitter tea as Hyobe watched him, unmoving. "In a few years Hinata will become clan head, and you and I will no longer be fighting over what it best for the clan. The responsibility will be hers. When that happens, it would be nice to sit down for a cup of tea with my father."

In that moment, the mantle of clan head that Hyobe wore like armor fell away to reveal a tired, old man. "I would like that very much." A slight smile pressed against the rim of Hyobe's cup as he drank, only to sour a moment later. "We will need better tea, though."

Hizashi chuckled. "We certainly will."

Hizashi and Hyobe finished the poor excuse for tea in content silence. It had been too long since Hizashi felt content with his father in the room. It wasn't forgiveness—there was too much pain between them—but for the first time Hizashi believed it was possible to let go. That was a start.

Naomi ran her fingers through her youngest child's hair as he slept sprawled out on the futon next to her. He was too young to understand all that happened. Naomi wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not. His fear was exaggerated into a child's terror, but a home rebuilt and family there when he woke could make him feel safe again. At least there were other children nearby to distract him. He'd need all the distraction he could get after they left in the morning.

The door slid open and Naomi smiled a tired expression at her husband. Hizashi closed the door behind him, once more sealing the room in the semi-darkness of a moon-lit night. The soft glow from the window fell over his face as he approached, revealing a contentment she hadn't expected.

"Did something happen?"

"I talk with Father." Hizashi lay down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her back against him. His breath teased her cheek as he looked past her to their son. "It was a conversation we've needed to have for a long time."

The hatred Naomi felt for her father-in-law boiled like a black pool in her heart that had grown into an ocean the moment Hinata died. Hyobe could have chosen not to use the seal and Pain would not have killed Hinata. The fact she was alive again healed the wound of her loss, but did nothing to quell her hatred.

It was Naomi's burden, though. It didn't need to be anyone else's. That was why she didn't deny Shou his grandfather no matter how much the favoritism disgusted her, and why she wouldn't condemn her husband if he were willing to come to terms with all he suffered because of Hyobe. But she would not forgive Hyobe, no matter what the rest of her family chose. Ever.

For tonight, Naomi shoved her darker emotions away where Hizashi wouldn't see. She would not allow Hyobe to tarnish this night. Only her love was permitted to show when she turned her head back to see her husband. This night was for them, for their family.

"I love you, Hizashi."

Hizashi breathed in her skin as if she were a flower whose scent could intoxicate. "I love you, Naomi."

She let her legs intertwine with Hizashi's, wanting to feel his body pressed against her from chest to toes. The warmth. The strength. The certainty of his touch. She could forget the world when he held her—if only for a moment.

Shou rolled over, grumbling in his sleep, and tucked himself against Naomi's stomach. Hizashi laughter made her skin vibrate, and he tucked the arm that had been holding her around both mother and son.

"I wish we could keep all our children safe in the village with Shou," Hizashi said.

"I just wish we weren't all separated. Neji might outrank me, but I still want to protect him."

Hizashi rested his chin on her shoulder. "There's a good chance Hinata will be assigned to one of our units. At least two of us will be together."

A hollow consolation to a mother's worry. Naomi closed her eyes and listened to the steady breathing of her son. His life safe in her arms, and her safe in Hizashi's. "Promise me we'll all come home. I don't care if it's a lie. I just need to hear it."

"We'll all come home, I promise."

Naomi didn't look to see if Hizashi believed it. Hearing his sure voice gave her hope. A war couldn't be won without hope.

It was enough to let her sleep.

Tomorrow, they went to war.