.

Scared is what you're feeling.

Brave is what you're doing.

Later that afternoon, when my door banged open, I expected it to be the medic, coming around to discharge me. It wasn't. Instead, Naruto barged on through with one Karin Uzumaki in tow.

I sighed and let my head fall back against the wall.

"Hey, hey! Kaka guess what!" he shouted. "I met my cousin! I have a cousin!"

I shouldn't have expected anything less, really. And since not anticipating that Karin and Naruto would inevitably meet was my fault because that was just how the world worked, this was the hell I deserved as recompense.

Karin, the poor girl, looked dazed as he dragged her by the wrist to my bedside and proudly gestured to her like he was presenting to me a prized treasure. "This is Karin Uzumaki!" Naruto said. He grinned. "She joined Konoha after the Chunin Exams!"

Lo and behold, Karin had on a Konoha forehead protector, somewhat obscured by her bangs, which raised more questions than I cared to consider at that point. She eyed me, her eyes narrowed and cold, and shuffled a bit closer to Naruto.

"You have a cousin," I said. "Right."

"Yeah!" Naruto said. "She found me when I was on my way here!"

"I see." Where did I even start? "And she's… recently come to Konoha?"

"Uh-huh." Naruto elbowed Karin. He lowered his voice—as much as Naruto can lower his voice—and whispered, "Hey, tell her!"

Karin frowned. "Why?"

"Because Kaka is cool and I trust her, so you should trust her, too! Besides, it's good to tell people. Keeping it all silent and stuff just makes you look sketchy."

I snorted. There was no arguing with that ironclad logic.

Karin narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, unconvinced, but one look at Naruto's puppy dog eyes broke her.

She heaved a sigh and turned her attention to me. "I decided to defect during the second part of the exam," she said, sounding like she was reading out of a textbook or something. She adjusted her glasses. "I was injured and a Konoha-nin saved me. He healed me and brought me to the hospital. Everybody's been so nice to me, and I… well. I have no reason to stay in Kusa." Her entire expression darkened like a storm cloud rolling in on a sunny summer sky. "They're all a bunch of idiots." Then, her expression cleared back up again, as if the clouds had never been there in the first place. "And I could sense Naruto. His signature was so… warm. Comforting. I really liked it. And you know, I could tell he was an Uzumaki—the chakra's so distinctive." She shuffled her feet together, dropping her gaze. "So… I decided to stay here."

"Yeah! They had to keep her locked up with all of the stinky foreign-nin, but now that the old lady is gonna be Hokage she was allowed out and given a forehead protector!"

While it might seem a bit foolhardy to take a genin that easily, Konoha was far from stupid. Why turn their nose up at an Uzumaki? Regardless of their reputation within the village, Uzumaki had powerful chakra flowing through their body—they were potent fighters. Not to mention valuable containers.

She had so much potential, honestly. At this age, she hadn't been shaped by Orochimaru—the doors were wide open for her to develop and branch out. What could she become in Konoha? What might she do; whose eye might she catch?

And at that thought, an idea formed in my head.

Uzumaki had a natural affinity for fuinjutsu, and unlike Kusa, Konoha had a resident fuinjutsu master. How might Karin turn out if shaped by his hands? Potentially, even, throughout an intense two-year training trip?

I chewed my lip, tuning the rest of the conversation out.

Jiraiya had to want to work with Karin for that to happen, which there was no guarantee that he would. I hoped he would. She could be powerful, and I'd like to think that Jiraiya would recognize that potential in her, but he could just as easily decide that she wasn't worth his time when he already had one student to deal with. And while I couldn't guess about whether or not Karin would want to spend any amount of time near Jiraiya, based on how Karin was in the show, I got the distinct feeling that she would go anyways for Naruto's sake. In the same way that she was supposed to attach to Sasuke later on, she seemed to have attached to Naruto now.

To me, at least, while it wasn't as much of a long shot as it initially sounded, I wouldn't say it was guaranteed either.

But that wasn't where my hesitance came from. More, it was from a nagging thought in the back of my head, the same one that plagued me since coming back from Wave: how was this going to interact with every other thread pulled loose? Because this could have messy consequences along with everything else.

Well, I mean. It could. Right?

My heart skipped a beat at the thought, and I fought off a frown, watching as Naruto and Karin went back and forth, still talking about the series of events that led up to meeting each other this morning.

That felt like a stupid question. My gut said that it obviously could—everything could have consequences, even if they weren't apparent from the get-go. I never imagined that the choice I made in Wave, to take Zabuza and Haku out early in an attempt to make the mission less dangerous overall, would eventually lead me to the place where I was. Everything was so different, one stone tossed into the middle of the ocean that's ripples tore up the shoreline.

But there came a point where I had to wonder if rather than being effective, agonizing over every action I took was counterproductive.

I huffed out a breath, restraining myself from sighing outright.

You'll regret it if you do nothing and something awful happens anyways.

"Hey, Naruto," I said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Are you training with Jiraiya today?"

Karin's eyes sharpened.

"I mean, yeah. What 'bout it?"

"You should bring Karin," I said. "I'm sure she'd love to see what you can do. And, hey. She might have some cool stuff she can show you, too."

Naruto's face lit up like a flash bomb. "Whoa… yeah! Hey, hey, Karin! That'd be fun, wouldn't it?"

"I mean… I guess?"

"Awesome!" Naruto was vibrating, now, hopping up and down. "Hehe. We should go right now, so we're all warmed up when the Pervy Sage gets there!" He jerked forward and grabbed Karin by the wrist again, headed towards the door. "Come on, Karin!"

"Well, alright—"

"Thanks, Kaka! It's cool you're feeling better and stuff. See ya tomorrow!"

And they were gone again.

It would be interesting to see whether that amounted to anything or nothing at all. I hoped that something would come from it—having a powerful Karin on the side of the village could prove to be priceless when the future came knocking.

It was hard to say how she'd turn out as a Konoha ninja. That was, if she planned to stick around at all. I was inclined to think she would. She and Naruto hadn't known each other for long and already there seemed to be some kind of connection there, however thin. And really, where else would she go at this point? She had no reason to become a missing-nin at thirteen, nor could I see her going back to Kusa, not after it treated her like shit and killed her mother.

I settled back on my bed again, eyes shut and intent on a nap.

Time would tell, I supposed. I put the piece in play. Now, I had to let the game run its course.

.

.

Jiraiya rubbed at his chin. His eyes moved between Naruto and the Uzumaki girl while Naruto yammered on about something Jiraiya couldn't be bothered to pay attention to.

He knew all about the Uzumaki girl, of course. Tsunade gave him the rundown earlier when she allowed the girl into the general population, not that it was the first he heard of her. He'd had a passive interest in her for a while—Kusa lacked a tailed beast at their disposal, but if they ever did manage to get one, they already had the perfect vessel at the ready. That wasn't the kind of thing he could ignore.

Especially not now, of all times, when said perfect vessel had defected to Konoha and immediately gotten buddy-buddy with their jinchuuriki. That reeked. He was ninety-nine percent certain that she knew he housed a bijuu, too. She was a sensor, like with that Kurosawa brat, and a capable sensor could pick out jinchuriki plain as day.

Konoha was weak right now. Freshly invaded with a new Kage—it was the perfect time for other villages to try and make a move on Konoha. And Jiraiya didn't think Kusa was above that for a second.

It was why Jiraiya wasn't wild on the idea of allowing her into the village. Uzumaki were a rare breed, yes, and they had their uses, that was true, but the kid was still a Kusa ninja. Call it old prejudices, but Jiraiya wasn't sure he wanted her kicking around the village, much less wearing a forehead protector as she did so.

Jiraiya pulled himself to his feet, groaning in the way old people do when they get up after sitting in one position too long. Because he was old, damn it, way too old for this shit.

As he got up, the Uzumaki girl, who had been watching him with weary eyes since they got to the training grounds, sharpened to attention and shifted like she was getting ready for a fight. And she oh so subtly put herself a step in front of Naruto when she did, not that Naruto noticed, still wrapped up in his story.

Jiraiya's eyebrows climbed up to his hairline.

Well, ain't that some shit.

Karin pulled the family card when she was asked about why she wanted to become a part of the village. Like any reasonably skeptical ninja worth their kunai, Jiraiya assumed that was a ploy. Ditching her village for somebody that happened to share her last name? When she had never met them, and had no reason to care about them? As if.

But the look on her face and the way she held herself got him. There was something distinctly protective about it, a total package that was tinged with an authenticity somebody her age and experience could never fabricate. And damn if the fierceness of her didn't send memories of Kushina flooding through him like a disastrous tsunami.

Karin and Kushina looked nothing alike up until the second that they looked exactly alike, and Jiraiya refused to acknowledge how thrown he was by it.

All at once, his opinion on her rearranged itself, adapting and adjusting to accommodate this new nugget of information with a speed that only somebody who spent as long as he had analyzing people for a living could manage.

Jiraiya locked eyes with the Uzumaki girl. She didn't waver. Instead, she bucked her chin up and narrowed her eyes.

He grinned. "Aren't you an interesting one."

Naruto cut himself off, his eyes jumping between the two of them. "Eh?" he said. "What're you talkin' about?" Naruto narrowed his eyes. "You aren't bein' creepy, are you?"

"Your friend," Jiraiya said. "What was her name again?"

"Karin," she said.

"Karin. Got it. Well, Karin, if you're gonna hang around here, you might as well get some work in."

She blinked at him.

"You're gonna put her to work?" Naruto asked. "Man, come on!"

"No slackers allowed," Jiraiya said.

Naruto scrunched his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. "So how come you get to sleep while I train?"

"Because I'm a professional slacker. I don't count."

Naruto groaned. He muttered a few curses, all at Jiraiya's expense, then grabbed Karin by the wrist and started to lead her through the usual warm-ups. She followed without any questions asked, though Jiraiya could see the hesitance in her face.

His grin widened.

If Karin was being genuine, if she had latched onto Naruto as tightly as Jiraiya suspected she had, well. She was exactly what Naruto deserved. Whether or not she fully recognized it, she deemed Jiraiya as somebody to be wary of. She got defensive. And even before him, a Sannin, somebody who could crush her with the strength and chakra in his pinky, her first instinct was to stand her ground. That wasn't a Kusa nin, to him—that was the first sparks of the Will of Fire, plain as day. That was what it took to be a Konoha nin.

He knew that if Kushina was up there and watching over her son, Karin was the kind of friend she'd want him to have, the kind of friend Naruto was going to need with what lingered on the horizon.

Jiraiya had already robbed Naruto of enough as it was, having been absent from the kid's life for so long. Who was he to take this from him, too?

.

.

I was nearly ready to just get up and walk out of the hospital myself by the time a medic walked into my room, Shikaku and Shikamaru ambling along behind her.

Shikamaru eyed the medic as they entered, but when I didn't have a meltdown at the sight of her, he seemed to relax.

The woman in question was slight, average in height but very thin; her build was more civilian than ninja in its delicacy. Her glasses served to emphasis her kind, honey-coloured eyes, and her long hair was wound into elaborate pigtails on either side of her head. She treated me to a small smile as she entered, one that she trained on Shikamaru as well.

I figured there was some edge to her. Innocent outsides were notorious for hiding devious insides when it came to ninja—medics more than any other.

"I'm Kana," the medic said. "I'll just give you the quick check that Lady Tsunade has outlined for me, and then we'll be good to go, alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Shikaku paid the medic no mind. His attention was on me, one eyebrow quirked and his mouth turned down in what I assumed was some amount of annoyance. With Maen out of the village on yet another mission, naturally, Shikaku was the one in charge of keeping me from "doing anything particularly stupid," as Maen had put it a little while back.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited as the medic started to examine my neck. Her medical chakra, cold and tingly, started to work its way through the muscles in my neck.

The whole time, I watched Shikaku expectantly.

He sighed. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything else, from you."

"Really?" I asked. "You're not going to call me rash or reckless or something?"

Shikaku snorted, lowering himself into one of the chairs, something Shikamaru had done the second he got in the room. "The line between being reckless and being courageous is whether or not you come out on top," he said dryly. "It's why you're technically a hero for helping your teammates instead of an idiot for nearly getting yourself killed in the process."

Shikamaru shot his father a look that went ignored. I frowned at that. I held my comment, though, because I felt like there was an entire conversation that I was missing for context.

Instead, I quirked an eyebrow towards Shikaku and said, "So…?"

The medic gently pulled at my arms and pushed me forward so she could examine my back. I scooted forward in the bed to allow her better access.

"I would have rather you took the time to talk to me before going through with it, but it was the right choice to make in the end, so it doesn't matter."

I grinned.

"Yeah, yeah," he drawled. "Wipe that grin off your face. You're still not out of the woods, yet."

"He's right on that," Kana said, running a chakra-coated hand up and down my back. "You seem to be doing very well after Lady Tsunade's procedure, but you've still got a bit of recovery to do after this. The technique that kept you from moving takes some time to wear off, so your muscles aren't going to be fully functional right away."

"How long until I can start training?" I asked.

"Not until you've seen Lady Tsunade again and she okays you," she said. She peeked her head over so I could see the unsettling smile that unravelled over her features. "And not a day sooner, am I clear?"

When I didn't immediately agree, the smile turned sadistic. I got as an extra hard poke in the side. It stung like being hit with a wound up towel, except the pain was localized to encompass an area no larger than a pinprick.

I yelped and jumped. "Fine, fine!"

"Thank you! And make sure to take it especially easy for the first couple of days, once you do start training. I don't want you using any weights for a week." She showed me her finger, lit up with chakra.

"Yes, right," I managed. "Sure."

"You'll keep her in line, right, sir?" she asked, turning to face Shikaku.

Shikaku hummed.

Kana raised an eyebrow. "That didn't sound very committal," Kana said. She reached into one of her pouches and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "You know, come to think of it, you're a bit overdue for a full physical, are you not?"

Shikaku turned a shade of horrified white that I'd only ever seen Yoshino achieve and Shikamaru, reclined in his chair, broke out into a cheshire grin.

Shikaku coughed. His gaze wandered over the room, seeming to go anywhere but Kana. "I'll keep a close eye on her," he mumbled. "As close as I can."

"That's good enough for me!" Kana answered, brightening.

She proceeded to check the inside of my mouth, look inside of my ear, flash a light in my eyes, and check my heart rate. She hummed to herself the whole way.

Once she was satisfied, she took her leave with a wave and a disturbingly cheerful smile in Shikaku's direction, punctuated by a wink. Shikaku rolled his eyes as if it didn't bother him, despite the slight shudder that seemed to run through him.

"Alright, let's go," Shikaku said. He pulled himself out of his chair with a grunt. "Think you can walk?"

"I fucking hope so," I muttered.

Cautiously, I pushed down the bars on one side of the bed and tossed my legs over the side. My legs were short enough that I had to drop off of the bed to get on my feet. So, with a deep breath, I slid off of the bed and almost managed to hold myself up. Almost. For all of about a second. Then, my knees buckled.

Shikaku caught me before my face could acquaint itself with the tiled floor. I groaned, clutching at his arm and burying my head in his shoulder.

"You tried," he said.

"Tried and failed."

"Which means this is the perfect opportunity to try again." Rather than just tossing me over his shoulder, he helped me to my feet and held out his arm. "Grab on."

Shikamaru had gotten up from his chair by this point and was watching me with a small frown, his hands shoved in his pockets.

I used Shikaku like a crutch. With his arm tucked under my own and a good chunk of my weight leaned into it, I hobbled forward. This set-up seemed to do the trick. I was grateful for it—after an entire week stuck in one position, basically unable to move, the idea of being able to walk myself home was what I needed.

And I got close, at least, which I was willing to take as a victory. Shikaku had to piggyback me the rest of the way, whining the whole time about how babysitting me wasn't his job and how much of a headache I'd caused him over the last few days. And of course, Shikamaru, never one to be outdone, chimed in with his commentary on how troublesome it had been to walk to the hospital every single day just to visit me. I took it with a grin, my chin hooked over Shikaku's shoulder as I listened.

It was good to be home.

Everything hurt.

Every single muscle, joint, and bone in his body ached. Sasuke always trained himself into the ground and had been for years, but this was a new level of exhaustion for him.

Gai bent at the hip to lean over Sasuke and catch his eye, that idiotic grin on his face and a gleam in his eye. He blocked out the sun, leaving only a patch of blank blue sky behind him.

Sasuke hated him; the way he acted like a complete buffoon with his students was a disgrace. No ninja should carry themselves like that, and absolutely shouldn't teach their students to do the same. He and Lee were complete, utter morons.

But in the wake of his exhaustion and now two days of arduous training sessions, Sasuke could concede that while Gai Maito was an idiot, he was far from weak or stupid.

Nobody weak or stupid could instill this level of exhaustion into Sasuke. This was the kind of exhaustion that Sasuke had long associated with growing strength. It reminded him of how he used to feel after he spent the day training with his father, the feeling of being pushed to the brink and then told to keep walking.

Loathe as Sasuke was to admit it, Jiraiya had been right that night, when he dragged Sasuke away from the village walls, sat him down, and threw all of Sasuke's inadequacies in his face.

"You're not ready. If you go now, Itachi'll crush you like a bug," Jiraiya had said. "But I know exactly who can fix that—the one person in this village who has spent his entire life learning to fight against the Sharingan."

The mere thought of the conversation was enough to make Sasuke grind his teeth together.

Sasuke thought Jiraiya had to be joking. But now, laying on the grass, covered in sweat and bruises, sore from head to toe, Sasuke knew better.

Unlike Kakashi, Gai would train him and make him powerful enough to kill his brother.

"Are you suicidal?"

Sasuke would get there. He would finally be able to avenge his clan.

"You have a teammate in the hospital from trying to keep you safe, and this is what you do with the chance she gave you? You throw it away? If it weren't for her, you'd be in the hands of Orochimaru without any chance of going after your brother."

He clenched his jaw harder, so hard that it popped.

"Up you get, young Sasuke!" Gai cried. "We have only just begun!"

Gai reached down to help Sasuke. Sasuke ignored it and got to his feet with his own strength, pushing aside the pain pulsing in every fibre of his being. He refused to sway on his feet. He anchored himself, clenched his jaw, and arranged himself into a fighting stance.

"How very Youthful!" Gai cheered, shoving his hand out in a thumbs up.

Rather than give Gai the chance to spout any more nonsense, Sasuke charged at him once again.

Sasuke would get stronger, and if he had to suffer this idiot to do that then so be it.

"Man… this is so troublesome."

"Would you just suck it up and pick a colour?"

Shikamaru sighed.

I waved the bottles of nail polish at him, willing him to just make up his damn mind already.

Choji pointed at the black bottle and held up his hand. "Go black! We could match."

"You'd only really be matching if Shika also dipped his fingers in potato chip crumbs after I did them," I said, eyes narrowed.

Choji smiled sheepishly and put another chip in his mouth. I rolled my eyes.

We were sitting in the Nara living room, the table and couch pushed back a bit and something random on the TV. An array of junk food was spread out over the floor, along with my brush and a handful of elastics, my nail supplies, my sketchbook, and a few books on chakra theory and control from the library that I badgered Shikamaru into grabbing for me earlier.

If I was stuck doing nothing for a few days, I figured that I might as well enjoy it and drag the boys right down with me. Thus, it was a boy's night tonight; Naruto would be along later, once he was finished with his training for the day.

"You can either pick your polish colour or I can pick it for you," I told him, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I hadn't bothered to braid it today so it hung loosely around me, falling in uneven waves across my back.

Shikamaru flopped down onto his side like the massive, melodramatic baby that he was and waved his hand towards the black bottle. "Whatever. Black."

"Perfect."

He held his hand out and I got to work. I scooted a bit closer, needing a good angle, and took my sweet time in painting each of his nails with a coat of the black and a clear topcoat, refusing to let him go until it was dried so there wouldn't be a repeat of the Chip Incident. Though, to his credit, Shikamaru didn't try to move or pull away.

And once his were done, I got to work on my nails. I figured that I might as well match both of the boys and go with black.

Painting my nails was one of the few stereotypically girly things that I enjoyed doing, both because I liked how it looked and there was practical value to it. The nail polish sold by ninja was resilient beyond belief, and for somebody like me, who fought with their hands, it was designed to help reduce the chances of needlessly breaking a nail while training or on a mission. Which, sure. It was a small injury—hardly even worth being called an injury. But broken nails hurt like a bitch.

So, painting them was a win-win scenario.

I finished my nail with a flourish and held my hand out to admire my handiwork. They were flawless, a skill acquired through years of practice and steady ninja hands.

Satisfied, I said, "Hey, Choji. Chip."

Choji grabbed a chip from the bowl and tossed it in my direction. I jerked to the side, catching it in my mouth, and let out a muffled cry of victory as I chewed the chip. Choji clapped, laughing. He grabbed another one and threw it, and again, I snatched it out of the air with ease.

What good were ninja skills if not for catching chips, right?

From his spot lounging on a blanket on the floor, his head burrowed in the crook of his arm, Shikamaru scoffed, but I could see the smile on his face.

Then I caught sight of the clock. It was nearly six in the evening, well past when Naruto was supposed to finish off his training for the day. I opened up my chakra sense and found that Naruto was close by, only a few blocks away from the compound. He'd be here in minutes.

"Naruto incoming," I said. Shikamaru didn't react, but Choji perked up. "ETA five minutes."

"Oh!" Choji hurried to his feet. "I'll go meet him."

"'Kay. He's coming in from the north."

Choji picked himself up and meandered out of the living room, picking up the chip bowl on his way.

I yawned. It had been a long day of doing fuck all. I stretched out like a cat, with my arms up above my head and my legs extended out so far that my toes curled. Something in my back popped at the movement and I winced. Not out of pain, but at the sound.

Shikamaru's foot bumped into my side, his toes brushing against my ribs in a half-hearted kick. "Stop," he muttered sleepily. "Dad told you not to do that."

"It's fine," I said. "My back's always popped like that."

That earned me a flat look from him.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

Now that I was confident that my nails were dry, I reached for one of the books and shuffled over a bit, so that I was leant back against Shikamaru's stomach like a chair.

The book I had was specific to the theory behind using chakra-enhanced strength. It was technically jonin-level, which I was able to take out thanks to Maen. He told me his ninja registration number a while back so I could get books out that were maybe a bit advanced for me under the condition that I didn't try and act on anything I learned without him or Shikaku around. And I had no plans of breaking that rule, especially with my current reading material.

Accidentally turning my limbs into fleshy pulp sacks because I overloaded my muscles with chakra wasn't how I wanted to spend my day.

That might sound overdramatic to the unsuspecting. Because, you couldn't actually do that, right? There was no way, right? Turns out that you could, if you put your heart and soul into it.

Have fun with that mental image.

Since Tsunade returned, I found myself thinking about what went into the technique she used to split the ground with her pinky finger. I recalled the vague explanation offered—building up chakra in a limb to release it upon contact with a target—but it wasn't all that helpful. It was like telling somebody that cooking a meal involves throwing food into a pan and frying it. That works, sometimes. For some things. But it's not a full recipe, nor a full view of everything that cooking can encompass.

The difference between the two though was that if you mess up a recipe, the worst that happens is you might have something that tastes bad or a slightly charred kitchen. Messing this up could, well, result in the aforementioned pulp sacks.

Everybody who had active chakra pathways had chakra in their muscles already. Our bodies naturally developed differently, especially those who had their chakra pathways open from birth—it charged the muscles and allowed for unparalleled feats of strength. That was why all of the acrobatic, speed racer shenanigans in the show were possible. Our bodies utilized our chakra to enhance our muscles at all times whether or not we were actively trying to.

That also meant that if you tried to add more, you risked overloading them and permanently damaging the muscles. Which, yeah. Was enough to put me off testing any theories I had about how Tsunade managed it.

Still, I found it interesting to look into.

"Kaka! Hey, hey, Kaka!"

I jumped at Naruto's voice. The movement caused my shoulder to jerk into Shikamaru's stomach and he grunted, rolling away from me.

Not wasting a second, Naruto bolted into the living room, bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute while Choji trailed behind him in a more subdued fashion.

"... was so cool! I gotta practice with that cool jutsu Pervy Sage taught me, and Karin came and she thought it was pretty cool—though she said it gave her a headache or something. Anyways, it was so cool! And Pervy Sage said that Karin can keep coming—"

I blinked. There were about a million different places my mind went with the information being word-vomited at me. "Naruto," I said. "Slow down."

"Oh," he said. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, heh. Sorry."

I caught a whiff of him and scrunched my nose. He smelled like somebody dropped their sweat into a pile of dirt and turned it into a perfume. "You came right from training, huh?"

"Wha—yeah?"

"You need a shower."

Either because he sensed the oncoming question or agreed with me on the stink front, Shikamaru waved a hand and said, "Use mine."

"Thanks."

I used the couch for leverage and hauled myself to my feet. I wobbled, but I managed to keep my balance when I was up, and from there I knew I would be fine. The worst of it was supposed to be gone by tomorrow morning. For now, I was a bit unsteady on my feet.

I clamped a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Let's go."

In my peripheral, I caught that Shikamaru had cracked an eye open to watch as we retreated upstairs.

Naruto didn't resist as I led him to Shikamaru's bathroom and left him to his devices. While he got clean, I went into Shikamaru's room and rifled through my bag, grabbing one Maen's old shirts that I'd stolen, a pair of my shorts, and my bathroom towel.

I dropped the whole lot in front of the bathroom door. "Hey, Naruto," I said, knocking to get his attention. "Clothes and towel are outside the bathroom."

Naruto shouted a single "Thanks!" over the sound of the shower running.

Everything in hand, I made my way back to the living room, where Shikamaru had gone back to sleep and Choji was occupied with a movie. It was some civilian-made film about the Third War. Funny enough, despite how hesitant civilians often were around ninja—if not outright hostile—there were a surprising amount of civilian films based on ninja history.

It was dramatized to hell and back, as to be expected, with copious amounts of romance and melodramatics added to spice things up. That was the only way to hold the interest of their wealthy civilian viewers, the only ones who had enough money to buy a television and spare time to waste watching it.

The Warring Clans Era and the Great Wars were the most popular backdrops for the films and shows. The latter had some entertainment value because depending on what country it was filmed in, the film showed very different tales. It was almost comforting; no matter what universe, war propaganda was war propaganda and history remained subjective.

The monstrosity Choji was watching was filmed in the Land of Lightning, by the looks of it. Their Minato was a bumbling idiot that stabbed himself with his kunai as often as he stabbed his enemies, and I couldn't help but wonder how Kumo felt about it—it managed to make both Konoha and Kumo look like a band of incompetents who got by on sheer luck and coincidence.

I dropped down onto the ground in front of Choji, using his legs as a back cushion. And with nothing else to do, I ended up painting my toenails while I waited for Naruto to finish up.

Thankfully, when Naruto came down the stairs, tripping halfway down the second flight and tumbling the rest of the way, he no longer stunk. And that was all I could ask for.

"Do me a favour?" I asked, not looking up at him as my focus was narrowed in on my nails. "Throw the towel and your other clothes into the washing machine. I'll run it in a bit."

A bonus of being part being important members of the clan was that Shikamaru's house had all of the latest in home appliances, including a washer and dryer. Though, the dryer hardly ever saw use. Yoshino still preferred to hang clothes out to dry like most people in the village.

A lot of the time, if Naruto was over here, she insisted on washing his clothes because she wasn't convinced he did his laundry anywhere near as often as he should. She was right. He didn't. And if she were here, she probably would have run them through herself. But she, like Shikaku and Maen, was expected to mobilize in the wake of the invasion, and she was on a courier mission that had her out of the village for a week or so.

So we were alone in the house until Shikaku got home that night. Money had been left on the table for us to get dinner, meaning that in all likelihood, we wouldn't see Shikaku until much later in the evening, if we saw him at all.

Naruto gathered all of his stuff and threw it into the washer. It took him a few minutes, and by the time he settled back down in front of me, fidgeting in place and grinning widely at me, my toenails were done and I was ready to get to work on his nails. I grabbed at my file and the orange bottle of nail polish that I always kept on hand especially for him.

Naruto was the most willing of the three to get his nails done—he even asked for it, sometimes.

Choji never put up a fuss. More, he just didn't care to maintain them. Case and point, he shoved his hands in the chip bowl less than a minute I finished painting them today, knowing full well it'd stick crumbs into the paint like glitter. On the other hand, Shikamaru did fuss. But it felt more obligatory than anything since he always came around in the end.

Naruto held out his hand and I got to work on scraping out the dirt from under his nails and shaping them into ovals.

"So," I said. "What were you telling me about training?"

Naruto's hair was flattened against his head, and a few drops of water dripped off of it and onto his shirt. The soap, a smell I was accustomed to coming from Shikamaru, lingered in the air around him.

He shook his head. Bits of water rained off his hair and splattered over me. "Yeah, yeah! So, like. Karin and I went together yesterday, and like, she didn't really like Pervy Sage, and he called her a brat," Naruto pulled a face, "and said that she was kind of annoying. And I don't know what happened but like, he changed his mind, I guess? 'Cause then he got all weird and quiet like he does sometimes, then he said she was interesting and told me that I could keep bringing her."

Huh.

I nodded slowly, processing the information. "And what about today?"

"He made her do stuff, which was kinda dumb, but I think she liked it," Naruto said. "He made her do the leaf exercise and some other boring baby stuff. It was easy for her! She's super strong, Kaka. Like, crazy strong!"

The news distracted me, and the shape of Naruto's nails on his first hand ended up a bit wonky. I shook myself and motioned for him to switch, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Who's this?" Choji asked.

"Naruto's cousin," I murmured absently.

"Wait—you have a cousin?"

"Yeah!"

Naruto jerked around to chat with Choji. His hand jerked with it and dragged the file across his nail at an awkward angle. I sighed and held his hand in a firmer grip.

Shikamaru turned to face the two of them, his eyes alert and curious even though he was out cold the last time I looked at him.

As he did with me, Naruto launched into the tale once again, detailing how Karin sought him out and declared them cousins, how he didn't believe her until she showed him her Ninja ID card with her last name printed on it. It was kind of funny, how easily he would have been tricked if she was an imposter. Forging an ID wasn't difficult. But I saw no reason to voice that.

A warm ball of comfort that curled in my chest at the thought of the Karin situation. Things seemed to be going about as I hoped. Jiraiya was at least willing to get a gauge on her strength before dismissing her out of hand. I was curious about what she did to pique his interest, but frankly, I didn't care that much—that was information I had no way of getting my hands on, and it didn't matter to me so long as the situation kept going well.

I painted Naruto's nails on autopilot. Once I managed to keep him still, the orange went polish went on without an issue, as did the topcoat. I left his toes alone because I wasn't that brave, and settled against the couch as the boys somehow devolved into bickering over whether to get ramen or barbeque for dinner.

Choji had voted for barbecue. Naruto had voted for ramen. Shikamaru adamantly refused to take part in the conversation.

It was tempting to keep chasing my thoughts, but I forced myself to keep my feet on the ground. I would have time later to think.

This? Being with the boys? I knew that this might not be around later.

Whether or not he knew it yet, Naruto would be leaving soon. For two years. Two whole years without seeing his dumb face, hearing his cracky, high pitched voice, feeling the warmth of his chakra signature as it buzzed beside me, and witnessing him tackle even the most mundane things with a single-minded determination that reminded me of why this twelve-year-old brat would one day bring the whole world together.

And fuck did that hurt, more than it had any right to. I knew he was coming back—there was no question of that. This wasn't permanent. It was just two years.

I kept telling myself that hoping it would sink in, but it was like putting a bandaid over a bullet wound. Logic didn't have anything on the bitterness that reared its head at the situation, a bitterness I felt I had no right to, at the end of the day.

"My vote is for ramen," I said, thankful that my voice came out steady.

Naruto whooped, punching a fist in the air.

"Kasumi, come on," Choji whined. "It's barbecue!"

I managed a grin and looked over at Shikamaru, who would now be the make or break vote. Either he could agree with me and end the argument but be stuck voting against Choji, or he could side with Choji—and what I knew was his actual food preference—and prolong things. And the look on Shikamaru's face made it clear that he knew that I knew the position I'd put him in.

Shikamaru groaned.

While I had my boys in one place, I wanted to enjoy it. Even if it was hard.

.

.

When I blearily blinked my eyes open in the middle of the night, I had no idea why I was awake.

Nightmares were what usually did it and with everything that had happened over the last little while, it wouldn't have been out of the norm for some to haunt my dreams that night. But I knew the second I woke up that that wasn't it—there was nothing wrong. Not with me, at least. My breath and heart rate both ticked along at a steady pace. Yet I felt the unease, an itch in my bones that spoke otherwise.

I rolled over and saw Shikamaru sitting upright. It was hard to make out details in the darkness. The were blinds open, but no moonlight streamed in to brighten up the room. And if I couldn't see anything, neither could he. He was just sitting there, rigid, staring into the black nothingness.

That was when I noticed the harried and frenzied nature of his chakra and realized that I had picked up on his distress, not my own.

I had never seen it move quite like that before. If I wasn't so familiar with Shikamaru's signature, able to read it like the back of my hand, I might not have been able to discern what was going on with it as I eased myself up into a sitting position. But I saw bits and pieces of other emotions I recognized in the maelstrom. A bit of panic, a dash of fear, and a sprinkle of frustration, stirred together in a mixing bowl on the highest setting.

Unsure of what else to do, I whispered, "Hey."

The reaction was immediate. His face swivelled to face me and one of his hands shot out to grab at my forearm. Something in his signature changed. The hard edges smoothed out and the churning slowed.

For some reason, a memory popped up in my head from a few months ago. Shikamaru hadn't done his chores and pulled some excuse out of his ass to hide out at my house for a few hours until Yoshino was too distracted by other, more important things to remember that he was in trouble. I remembered the emotion that thrummed through his signature when he walked through the door and shucked off his shoes, the same one I felt easing his signature now.

Relief.

I stared at Shikamaru.

At this point, I assumed he had had a nightmare. And that? The way relief washed over him at the sight of me, combined with how he's been acting lately? It made me wonder who was more scared by how hurt I'd gotten—me or him.

"Hey," I whispered again. "Alright?"

His gaze dipped down to my chin. My hand reached up to rub at it, my fingers grazing over the half-inch long scar that now decorated it. One of the few I'd kept from my tumble down the mountain. As it turned out, rolling fifty metres over a rocky surface left a few marks.

Shikamaru dipped his head in a sleepy nod and yawned, his signature easing out the rest of the way until it was closer to its usual calm ocean vibes. He let go of my arm and settled back in his spot on the bed, no longer watching me.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbled. "S'late."

I laid down again, facing away from him, but I didn't sleep right away. And neither did he. Shikamaru, who fell asleep at the drop of the hat, lay awake for at least another half an hour before his signature evened out to the subdued movements I associated with sleep.

It was only after that that I managed to drift back to sleep, myself, hoping that we would both stay that way.