Orochimaru, Kakashi thought gloomily, must have written a book, a madman's manifesto, an instruction manual for the villainous geniuses, for there was no way to explain the distressing uniformity of his labs and secret lairs, both above and underground, the same type of walls, the same stone, the same décor, the same lack of comfortable chairs, the same lack of lighting, the same dark corners down the same claustrophobic hallways, the same blind spots and the same musty damp that clung like film on skin.
He sighed and tried not to choke on a mouthful of dust. The building was the only structure tall enough to receive messenger hawks in Oto. It was heavily guarded. Visitors were discouraged—not that Oto had many to begin with. Kakashi wasn't about to don an apron while wielding a matching feather duster and no matter how useful Zetsus were, their cleaning skills ended at swallowing corpses whole.
Even Kisame, whose village actively tossed bodies in water to feed sharks, had been disturbed by the sight. Hidan had just moaned on and on about how displeased his pagan god would be at the waste of a perfectly good sacrifice.
Unfortunately, Kakashi's fount of knowledge regarding Zetsus ended there. As far as he could tell, Zetsus were not clones. Not some inbred clan from Kumo nor another of Orochimaru's harebrained schemes at attaining immortality. The Black Zetsu spoke to the Sannin as an equal rather than an underling. His initial report had been troubling enough for Konoha to risk what little contact they had to demand Kakashi expound on Zetsu.
And after ten years, he could unhappily add that Zetsus were also hard to kill.
Kakashi had seen a Zetsu, travel the distance between villages in the blink of an eye, regrow limbs and walk off a hole in the stomach after one of Hidan's little tantrums.
They were durable.
But they did die.
Zetsus did not have a hive mind, as he had once suspected, which was fortunate. He once pushed a White Zetsu, the one with a spiral instead of a discernable face, in the path of what looked like a giant coffin made of exploding tags in Ame, all the while trying to recruit a ragtag group of rebels who liked living in a village where the air was ninety-percent water.
He'd escaped with a singed cloak. Spiral Zetsu was, disintegrated.
Black Zetsu had been very displeased but did not questioned Kakashi's story. At least, Kakashi didn't think he did.
Which meant that despite having eyes everywhere, despite cultivating the aura of omnipresence, Black Zetsu was not infallible.
He could be killed.
Kakashi hummed.
Either way, the revolution in Ame was no more. The potential allies were no more. To either side. Orochimaru struck a deal with Hanzo and heads had rolled to make sure everyone was on the same page. Jiraiya managed to intervene just in time to prevent a corridor opening up between Suna and Oto but it was moot point and Kakashi's place under Orochimaru's thumb had become very uncomfortable of late.
If he hadn't been chasing Seifuujin Sora across the sand dunes at the time the talks in Ame were breaking down—and wasn't it unpleasant to realize that maybe, just maybe, the onmyouji had planned it all along, complete with an augury of an end on the near horizon—Kakashi would have been first to be accused of being the mole. There was no reason for Orochimaru, no, Black Zetsu, to suspect him and yet, yet they did.
He had not been allowed to step a foot outside Oto since. Orochimaru gave him a vague excuse that Oto needed a leader, a guiding hand, in his absence. He suggested that Kakashi make best of the vacation. There were plans, the snake-like man said.
Kakashi knew house arrest when he saw it.
But it allowed him to peruse letters, files, and missives. Like the little love letter he found from Suna for a potential alliance, never burned, never hidden away, simply tucked in a haphazard tower of paperwork anyone could have looked at.
He felt momentary pity for the Kazekage.
And for the roster of Orochimaru's latest recruits.
Orochimaru did not recruit shinobi, villagers, as a Kage might have. A Kage looked for different traits to carry out different functions in a village. Noblemen for capital, engineers for infrastructure, merchants for trade, talented shinobi or two for protection.
Orochimaru recruited like he was planning a genin graduation ceremony.
He would need a new body soon. Kakashi had been surprised to hear that Orochimaru had gone to Suna personally to meet the Kazekage. The last he had seen, his current was failing him. The soul eating through the flesh like ink might through paper.
There were candidates lined up. In the village. There were always candidates in the villages. All willing bodies for the taking. And if it wasn't for his temper, Hidan would have been on the chopping block as well.
At eleven, Kimimaro was too young. But there was no reason he could not be dealt with. A little bit of morningstar poison[1] in the food. And.
Shinobi children were dangerous. Ones with bloodline abilities were worse. And Kakashi had seen the mania of devotion in the boy's eyes. Sakumo's kindness had cost Suna a Kazekage once [2]. He was not about to repeat his father's mistake.
Kakashi sighed and looked out the window where, speak of the devil, a gaggle of Oto's genin were practicing shurikenjutsu and cheating. Kimimaro's crown of white hair was easy enough to spot. He overpowered Jirobo easily before taking on Tayuya. He wondered if he had stayed in Konoha, he might have been given a team of his own. A team complete with a mini-him, a mini-Rin and a mini-Obito.
Kimimaro would never suspect anything was wrong until his body started failing him. When the pain started and his bones gave out. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually. Rendering him useless as a vessel to Orochimaru.
And as Kakashi watched the bright futures of Oto, he knew he was being watched in turn. A weight settled across his feet like Pakkun on a particularly lazy day. But the ninken was not with him and Kakashi did not look down.
"There you are."
Zetsu stood at the door. It was one of the white ones. One that could pass as a shinobi maybe. The messy green hair and the amber eyes gave it away as something more. It looked like bloodline techniques were involved.
If only—Kakashi scoffed inwardly.
"Zetsu." He greeted because they all shared one name. "Did you need something?"
Zetsu scanned the room. The pupiless eyes touched upon a chair Kakashi had been sitting in, spun out of place, the desk with fingerprints across the fine layer of dust, a stack of papers clearly disturbed, the book held loosely in his hand, and his feet planted on top of shadows that should have not been there. Kakashi raised an eyebrow and saw Zetsu retreat, just a little, out into the hallway.
"No." Zetsu said carefully. It did not understand what it saw. Nothing was wrong. It could not know anything was wrong because it did not understand. "Kakashi is a good boy." It added.
Kakashi turned away.
The sun was setting.
He was far from home, far from Mountain's Graveyard, far from Suna where, if Kisame was to be believed, Orochimaru planned to raise an army against Konoha.
Other villages would fall in line very quickly if Suna attacked.
But he could not be sure that it was Orochimaru who wanted the Fourth Shinobi War.
Just one more. He told himself. One more and he would take Obito home.
+++++17+++++
That night, Kakashi had a dream.
He looked in a mirror and saw Obito's broken face staring back at him.
+++++17+++++
At eight, on the dot, Rin was at Minato's doorstep wearing the same violet kimono she had worn when dropping by her parents' and a gift basket at her elbow—all the strange and exotic spices that she thought Kushina might enjoy, a bottle of rice wine that Jiraiya could never get enough of and packets of sugar blown into colorful stars.
It wasn't unlike infiltrating a village; And Rin wasn't sure how she felt about that. She knew Minato and Kushina. They knew her. They practically raised her. They were team once, during the waning days of the Third Shinobi War nearly a decade ago.
Playing herself was proving to be much more difficult than being a stranger.
As she walked up the steps to the Hokage residence, she knew Anbu were watching, one eye on the prodigal daughter come home, the other on the village. She was a newly promoted jounin with a blank resume. There was precious little more threatening than the unknown.
She took a deep breath and knocked. And instead of the door opening, instead of Minato who invited her, it was Kushina who stuck her head out the window.
"Rin!"
And oh. Kushina was beautiful. She hadn't aged a day in the years Rin was gone. Her face was slightly narrower, making her grey eyes look large and luminous. Her flame-colored hair, the pride of their village for the fear it inspired in enemies, was cut short, stopping just above her shoulders.
Kushina eyed her. Was it disappointment she saw? Rin wondered. Kushina was one of the strongest ninja she knew. If it weren't for the nine-tails sealed in her belly, she might have even become Hokage. After all, there was more to being a village leader than being the strongest. Rin knew. Years of travel taught her that. Onoki of Both Scales held his seat with an iron grip despite his age thanks to the backing of his powerful clan. The Raikage and even the Kazekage rivaled the daimyo in their political connections.
"Rin." Kushina said finally, laughter in her voice. "You're err, all dressed up."
Rin blinked.
"Was I not supposed to?" She asked.
Kushina immediately waved her hands.
"No, no. It's fine. It's fine—I just wasn't. It's family dinner ya know."
Like the ones they used to have.
But Rin did not know. It had been a long time. Things changed. They changed.
Instead of an answer, she pushed the gift basket into Kushina's arms.
Kushina broke out into a smile.
"Oh hey, peppers from Kiri! These are hard to come by you know! People think that the best spices come from Suna and it's true. They get a lot of sunlight. But Kiri makes the hottest peppers. Probably 'cuz of lampreys or whatever they're eating over there."
Kushina stuck out her tongue in mock disgust. "Well come on in, oh, let me get the door—Naruto!"
Rin wandered back to the door, blinking the damp from her eyes, just in time to see a face peek out at her waist-height, shier than she was expecting, because from the reports, she was prepared a spoiled, little lordling, worse than her, Kakashi and Obito put together, and felt a grin tug at her lips, her heart melting into a gooey mess between her ribs.
"You must be Naruto." She cooed. Naruto was her teacher's clone down to the crown of sun-bright yellow hair and clear, blue eyes.
The boy backpedaled, a kind of ruddiness stealing over his whiskered cheeks. He ran down the hallway like he had exploding tags taped to his feet.
From the window, Kushina hollered, "We don't run inside the house!" and to Rin, she said "Well come on in, we're almost ready."
The house smelled wonderful. In the kitchen, she saw the familiar bob of Minato's head as he strained under the weight of pots and pans. Kushina joined him in setting the table and Naruto, skirting around his mother's apron, poked chopsticks and sauce dishes into their places.
The centerpiece was an enormous carp, its crispy skin peeling off the steaming, white meat, jaws open around an enormous, painted egg that was obviously meant to represent a pearl and lemon slices covering its eyes. Rin chuckled and rolled up her sleeves, pushing a plate teetering on the edge of the table closer to the middle.
The table groaned with the addition of pork buns, rows of dumplings in the shape of a waxing moon, and a bowl of vegetables stirred into a thick slurry that Rin was very fond of.
"Oh you shouldn't have." Rin said insincerely even as her eyes jumped from one dish to another.
They shuffled to their seats, Minato at the head and Rin taking the place of honor.
"Have at it then." Kushina said proudly.
For full ten minutes, there was only the sound of silence, people eating, chopsticks clashing as Kushina and Naruto fought over a particularly plump ball of fried chicken before Naruto noticed her curious gaze and forfeited. A victorious cry later, Kushina pushed two more into Naruto's side dish announced,
"This little piggy is Naruto by the way."
Embarrassed, Naruto scooted away.
"Pleased to meet you." Rin said. "I'm Rin."
And he blushed, his face glowing as he helped himself to a portion of the carp.
Adorable.
+++++17+++++
After dinner, they began to clear the table.
"I can help." Rin said, getting to her feet.
"Nonsense," Minato stacked empty plates into Naruto's arms. "You're our guest."
And before Rin could argue her case, Kushina wrapped arm around her neck.
"Come on Rin, let the boys sort it out."
"But."
Her protest were smothered against Kushina's side. She was pulled into the living room and spun around.
"Let's have a look at you."
And to Rin's immediate dismay, she now stood a palm-width taller than Kushina.
Kushina must have sensed something amiss because she stopped.
"What happened?" She asked.
"Nothing." Rin stammered. "It's just strange being back here—so much has changed."
Kushina thought for a moment.
"Rin, you've been gone ten years. Of course things have changed."
They sat down on the couch, a coffee table between them. It was pretty. Lacquered and topped with glass. She traced the pattern of wood beneath, the mother-of-pearl tracing a giant lotus bearing the Sage of Six Paths.
"I'm sorry I never wrote back."
"Oh hun," Kushina sighed. "I know what it's like. Or I don't. The old geezers never let me go on long-term missions. But Jiraiya's gone, all the time, hard to believe he's not a missing-nin, and he publishes his shitty books but getting a response from him is like pulling hen's teeth. A couple of my ex-roommates are still undercover. Ya know, deep."
"Then you know about." Rin started cautiously.
Kakashi.
Kushina leaned back in her seat.
"Sometimes I wish you kids hadn't grown up so smart. Or with independent thinking. Or in war. What you did out there, what Kakashi is doing—it's important. Really important. Even if no one knows it. Even if people think you're a traitor."
Rin flinched.
"But I would never wish that on anyone." Kushina continued. "Not for you, not for me, not for Naruto. Heh—guess that's why Minato got to put on the big boy hat."
"We're ninja." Rin repeated by rote. "Until ten years ago, I didn't even know there could be peace."
Kushina hummed in agreement.
"Yeah, now we just gotta stab each other in the back."
"I don't do much." Rin said modestly. Because she didn't. If she had to fight, something had gone spectacularly wrong.
"Jiraiya's spelling's gotten better." Kushina pointed out.
Rin pressed an involuntary hand against her mouth.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You?"
Kushina rolled her eyes.
"Lord Third is a big fan. I wasn't allowed to go to the hospital after birth—I mean there is that room on the sixth floor but it was sorta occupied ya know? Anyway, I was bored."
"I wish I had been there." Rin said, feeling small.
"Just as well you hadn't." Kushina said cheerfully enough. "We only caught a team from Kumo and a weirdo working on his own. Maybe you had a hand in stopping the others."
Rin and Kushina chatted some more, caught up on the ten years they had been apart. Eventually, Minato and Naruto joined them. Naruto remained glued to his mother's side but only Rin and Minato were polite enough to ignore it. Kushina teased her son mercilessly. He would have to get used to it. He was an Uzumaki, a clan of three—the whisker marks on his cheeks said as much. He was also the son of a Hokage.
She left around midnight with enough leftovers to feed her for a week.
After saying goodbyes, she held her breath and disappeared.
There were no places she could truly be free of scrutiny. She'd always had a habit of putting too much force in her feet. But it helped her to climb to the top of Hokage Rock.
Rin was raised on the river gods, of beings in places rather than stone, in feeling rather than words. But Uchiha Obito was never buried. His body remained elsewhere, suspended in water, preserved until Kakashi could bring him back, for a promise struck as the curtain fell on the Third Shinobi War.
"It wasn't so bad." She said, looking up at the night's sky. "I still wish you were here."
+++++17+++++
That night, Rin had a nightmare. She looked in the mirror and saw Obito staring back at her.
[1] Morningstar aka Morning Star aka Phosphorous, if you wanted to look up what it does
[2] Sasori of Red Sand
Author's Note: If anyone is still reading this, thank you so much!