Okuda looked up at the giant gate in front of her. Never in a thousand years would she ever have dreamed of coming to Konohagakure no Sato, the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Ninja were a common sight in the capital, not all of them from Konoha, but they rarely had the time—or the money—to hang around the red lights district. Even when one did wander into the brothel, they never asked for her. She turned her red eyes downward to look at the two children who'd somehow convinced her to cross the country with them.

"You're sure about this?"

Both children looked up at her with their clear eyes.

"Yep!" Said Akiko.

"As sure as we can be." Said Akira.

Not exactly confidence inspiring, but it was too late to turn back now. The carriage they rode out of the capital had already left. With a deep breath to soothe her frayed nerves—it didn't work—she stepped up to one of the ninja standing guard. At first glance, he didn't look too intimidating. Okuda knew better than to trust that snap judgement, though. It was the most unassuming men who often proved the most dangerous.

"Excuse me," she began, voice steady despite her anxiety. "Where do I go to report a shinobi death?"

His gaze sharpened, glancing from her to the children who clung to her clothes. "Do you know their call number?"

She shook her head, but pulled the headband the children had given her from inside her sleeve, viscerally aware of the way the ninja in front of her shifted so his hand was closer to the bag strapped to his thigh. She presented it to him with a bow and both hands, like she would when passing tea to a high paying customer. "I have this, and other things, but…," she bit her lip and looked down, playing the part the twins had cast her for. "I don't think I should give those to anyone but their family."

He took it and turned it over in his hands, attention divided between it and her. She kept her gaze fixed on his face, brow furrowed ever so slightly hands clasped in front of her chest. She was sure she looked like a desperate fool, but that was what most men wanted. Coupled with the children holding on to her, she struck a harmless image. Exactly what she wanted. He looked up at her with something almost like sympathy in his eyes, though his expression didn't change.

"That's not for you to decide."

She hunched her shoulders, letting her very real nerves show through. "I know. It's just…" She licked her lips, noting the way he glanced at them. "They were from a Clan."

That got his attention. Just like the children said it would. How they knew such things about the shinobi world when they had never left the brothel, she had no idea. They always knew things they shouldn't, though, so it wasn't really all that surprising. It was likely the shinobi's line of thought was also following their predictions.

She wasn't sure what she would do if they weren't.

The three of them jumped in place when an exact replica of the gate guard appeared with a puff of smoke. It didn't even spare them a glance before leaping into the air and rushing into the village. The original gestured to a bench beside the gate.

"You can wait there. An escort will be sent for you soon."

Okuda sat down rigidly, years of training holding her back straight despite her exhaustion. A carriage did not make for a comfortable bed, and she could only imagine what she looked like. If it was half as bad as she smelled, it was a wonder the ninja hadn't just turned her away.

The children followed her closely, playing the part of frightened kids like experienced actors. Which, she supposed, they were. They always hid their true natures from the rest of the brothel workers, pretending to be like other children their age. But they weren't. Knowing now that they were most likely ninja children helped put a lot of things in place for her. The one thing she didn't understand—well, the biggest thing—was why they never tried lying to her, of all people.

"Hey, Oni-baba," Akiko said with a tug at her kimono sleeve. "They're gonna let us in, right?"

Okuda raised an eyebrow at the girl, just barely resisting the urge to glance at the ninja standing guard. She could feel the weight of his attention on her. Something in the script the twins wrote for her had set him off and she didn't want to aggravate him any more than necessary. Whatever show Akiko was putting on, she wanted no part in it.

"I don't know," she said honestly, but with a bit more bite than was probably necessary. "They'll probably take what we have and tell us to leave."

Akiko's pale green eyes widened almost comically. She looked through Okuda's face, rather than at it, her gaze unfocused and somewhat distant. "What? But we came all the way here!"

"And we'll probably have to go all the way home."

"But that's so far."

She knew what Akiko was doing now. Okuda doubted hardened killers like shinobi would fall for such an obvious ploy, but she had to give the girl credit. Her pout looked genuine.

"Will they let us eat, first? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

Oh, so Akira was in on it, too. She should have expected that. There was something strange about these children. Something more than just whatever oddities they'd inherited from their ninja father. She'd been with them the entire journey from the capital. There was no privacy on a cheap hire carriage, and, yet, they managed to come up with a plan beyond what they'd shared with her. How, she had no idea, and she wasn't about to ask. All she wanted was to be free from the brothel for good. The kids promised she would be and she believed them. Again, it was hard to explain why, but she did. Ever since Enogiku's murder…anyway, she believed them.

Okuda watched the children go back and forth with child typical complaints. She didn't know much about the ninja world, but her arrival would have been suspicious even in the capital. Adding their antics on top of that only made it even more obvious that they were probably spies. Which they weren't. But something told Okuda that the twins wanted to be perceived that way.

Whatever. As long as she never had to go back to the brothel.

"Ahem."

She looked up at a young man with curly dark hair and friendly up turned eyes. He smiled at her, but she saw through it easily. Yet another dangerous person disguising himself behind a façade of congeniality.

"Hello," he said with false happiness. "My name is Shisui. I'm to escort you to the Police Station for an intake interview."

An interview. Right.

This man—more a boy, really—was different from the guard at the gate. Though his posture was casual and his expression open, there was something hard about him. His dark eyes seemed to look through her in a different way from Akiko's. Hers saw nothing, but his saw everything. There was no point in trying to manipulate this one. She didn't even want to imagine the consequences of trying.

Okuda looked down at the children who were once again hiding behind her as if this wasn't all their idea. She stood with all the grace that had been beaten into her and bowed. "Thank you, Shisui-san. My name is Okuda and I will be in your care."

There, line drawn.

The ninja didn't seem at all put off by her standoffish attitude. If anything, his lips quirked upward in an almost genuine smile. "It's nice to meet you, Okuda-chan. And who might these two be?"

He leaned down toward the children, but they ducked behind Okuda, refusing to look at him. He straightened with a chuckle and Okuda realized with a start that his previously black eyes were now as red as her own. "It's alright. It must be very scary to be so far from home. You're very brave to come all the way from the capital."

Okuda narrowed her eyes at him. How did he know…who was she kidding. He was a ninja. They all had means of acquiring information. That was why the children were so desperate to be here, right? Something about information that needed to be handed over to someone specific.

"Please, lead the way, Shisui-san," she said coolly. His expression changed minutely at her tone, but she caught it. "We have much to discuss."

He regarded her for a long moment before his smile morphed into something much more dangerous. More predatory.

"I see. So, we played right into your hands, huh?"

Okuda bowed again, lower this time. "I am a civilian, as are the children. I don't have any weapons or training that might prove a threat to you or your village. I am simply a messenger."

When she straightened, his eyes were black again and she had to wonder if the red was a figment of her imagination. He put that fake smile back on and turned his back to her, a clear display of just how harmless he found her. Emblazoned across the back of his dark, high collared shirt was a fan of some kind, the round shape skillfully embroidered in red and white thread.

"Follow me."

The ninja's village—or, rather, Village—was much larger than Okuda expected. There were many people milling about, completely unphased by the uniformed soldiers jumping across the rooftops above them or popping in and out of existence. Okuda and the children were caught off guard many times when something they previously thought to be impossible happened right in front of them. She was sure Shisui was finding a lot of entertainment at their expense.

He led them to a large building. The people coming and going from it all looked similar to Shisui, with black hair and eyes and high collared shirts or kimonos marked with the same red and white fan. Even the building was marked with the fan, so it was probably some kind of uniform. Okuda paid no attention to the glances thrown her way. She was used to stares and whispers, so a few curious looks were nothing.

"Please," Shisui said gently—too gently. "Right this way."

'This way' was down a long, mostly unoccupied hallway lined with doors. Shisui opened one and gestured for them to enter with a flourish. Okuda let go of a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. For some reason, she expected to be separated from the children. Staying together was a pale comfort, but it was likely the only one she would receive here. The room was stripped almost bare, with nothing but a table and two chairs set opposite each other. Shisui didn't hesitate to sit in one after securing the door behind him, locking them all in together.

"Well," he waved a hand at the empty seat. "Why don't you share your precious 'information' with me?"

"No."

He and Okuda both looked down at Akiko in surprise and the little girl buried her face in the filthy silk of Okuda's kimono. Akira stepped forward, but still kept Okuda between them and Shisui.

"You have to understand," they said lowly. "Kiko watched someone murder our mother for this information. We can't just hand it over to someone random"

Akiko watched it happen? No one told Okuda that.

Shisui's entire demeanor changed. The joking, almost dismissive attitude from before was gone and he regarded the children with the gravity strange little creatures like them were due.

"It seems I was mistaken about who my informants were," he said seriously. "My apologies."

Akira shrugged. "No one ever takes kids seriously. That's why we brought Oni-baba."

Shisui looked up at her with a dry laugh. "So, she was your accessory, not the other way around."

"Exactly."

"So, who do you want to talk to, then?"

"The Chief of Police."

Shisui let out a low whistle. "Do you know who that is, kid?"

"The head of the Uchiha Clan, Uchiha Fugaku."

A steely glint entered Shisui's eyes and Okuda placed a hand on Akira's head, pressing them closer to her. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. It was a confrontational posture, one Okuda had seen on many violent men right before they made a move.

"And why should I drag my clan head all the way here for a couple of kids and their babysitter?"

Neither child spoke aloud, but Okuda knew they were having one of their magic internal conversations. Then, Akiko pulled away from Okuda's leg. She took one hesitant step after another until she reached the table in the middle of the room. She set her hand on the dark wood and took a deep breath.

A knock broke the silence in the office and the door opened, letting in the sounds of soft conversations and rustling paper.

"Sir, you need to come with me."

Fugaku didn't even look up from the report he was reading. "What is it, Shisui? You're supposed to be on patrol."

The teenaged Jounin leaned on Fugaku's desk with more force than necessary. "Sir, you don't understand. You need to come with me."

He set down his paperwork with a sigh and glared up at his subordinate. "What's going on?"

"I can't explain," Shisui said with a mirthless smile. "You won't believe me unless you see it for yourself. Please, sir. I promise this isn't a waste of your time."

He knew that. Shisui was more easy going than most of their Clan, but that didn't mean he was lax with his responsibilities. Fugaku wouldn't let him near his son if that was the case. There was a strange, urgent light in the boy's eyes, too, and it got his hackles up. What exactly had Shisui so anxious?

"Very well, then," he said as he stood, resigned to taking home more work when he'd already promised Mikoto he'd stop. "Show me."

Shisui set a quick pace through the department, leading his Clan Head to the interrogation rooms. Once there, he poofed out of existence and the real Shisui opened the door from the inside.

"Please, come in, sir."

Fugaku took one step into the room and froze. Every room was exactly the same, with the same paint on the walls, the same tile underfoot, and the same chairs waiting to be occupied. He would have noticed—or, at least, been told—if one of the tables had decided to return to being a tree.

It had leaves and everything, spindly branches twining in on themselves and reaching weakly for the overhead light. Instinctively, Fugaku activated his Sharingan and approached it with great caution. Though he was no Hyūga, he could clearly make out an active chakra network inside the anomalous plant. Energy was flowing through it, but it was coming from…a child?

"Fugaku-sama," Shisui said thickly. "They've come a long way to speak with you."

Fugaku deactivated his Sharingan as he took the seat Shisui vacated for him. Across the newly revived table, two children shared the other chair. They were dirty, but no more so than most travelers upon arrival in the village. Though they were clearly siblings, they would one day grow to look very little like each other, if their current appearances were anything to go by. Even so, they looked at him with identical expressions of anticipation, pale eyes tracking his every movement. Standing behind them with a hand resting on one of their shoulders each, was a young woman barely older than Shisui. With dark hair, pale skin, and ruby red eyes, she bore a superficial resemblance to the Uchiha, though her features were softer, more delicate, than most kunoichis'. She had clearly never trained for combat, but she still glared at him and Shisui over the children's heads, ready to jump to their defense should the need arise.

He turned his attention to the more rotund child. "Did you do this?"

"Yep." She popped the p with a toothy grin, greenish gold eyes looking in his direction, but not directly at him. "Got you here, huh?"

Shisui leaned over to whisper in his ear. "These aren't normal children, sir. They're the ones who asked for you."

Well, then. He switched his tone from the one he would use on Sasuke to the one he used on Itachi. Prodigies could handle more than the average child.

"I see. Yes, I'm here. Now," he leaned forward over the table. "What do you want?"

The children exchanged a glance before looking up at their chaperone. She raised an eyebrow at them before reaching into the sleeve of her dusty kimono. Neither Fugaku nor Shisui reacted, but they were ready should she pull out a weapon.

She leaned over the children and placed a scroll in the middle of the transformed table. "They say their mother died to protect this information. She was a top ranking oiran in the capital and she's had many shinobi customers over the years. I'm not sure when she would have gotten this or why it was so important to her, but…" She shrugged. "If they say so, then they're probably right."

Hmm. That kind of blind faith was a little concerning. If not for his Sharingan, he might think there was a genjutsu at work. He reached out and took the scroll in his hand, activating his doujutsu again as he checked it for traps. Nothing. Unrolling it, he revealed a Konoha standard sealing scroll. An old one. That type of ink hadn't been used for years, a defect in the mineral balance leaving it less efficient than the new ink used in its place. The edges of the paper were frayed and yellowed with age, but not exposure. He unrolled enough of it to unseal the contents and pressed his hand against the weathered paper and channeled his chakra into it.

Poof!

A pile of more scrolls appeared on the table, as well as a kunai pouch and a set of nun-chucks. Very large nun-chucks.

"Woah!" The little girl exclaimed loudly, shaking her sibling with wild enthusiasm. "Look at that! Do you see? Do you see?"

"I see," the other child said with a calm that spoke of many such outbursts. "Do you think it's dad's?"

"It's gotta be," she replied, almost breathless. "Why else would mom keep it?"

That was good information. Fugaku filed it away before resealing the scroll's contents and handing it to Shisui. "I will look through that properly as soon as you three are properly situated." The children deflated and their fierce guardian stepped forward. "Why don't you explain what this is?"

The children looked at the table-tree.

"Isn't it obvious," the girl who made it said with a shrug. "It's the Mokuton."

Fugaku did stiffen at that. "How do you know?"

"That's what mother called it," the other one said. "She had it, too. As did her mother, and her mother, I think."

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Great Grandma Ayane was famous! She grew all kinds of things. Mom always talked about her and our great family legacy." Her smile suddenly fell and she sat meekly in her seat. "Sorry. I got loud."

Her sibling took over the explanation without prompting. "Our family has had at least one woman in the same brothel for generations. They have contributed to the arts and sciences, all while using the Mokuton openly and without fear." They swallowed thickly. "But mom was killed, so we couldn't stay there." Green eyes met Fugaku's. "If our lives were ever threatened by ninjas, then we were to seek out the Uchiha. That's what she said."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

It made a certain kind of sense. The Senju and Uchiha were allies, after all. But, if the Mokuto had been in their family as long as they claimed, why did they not seek out the Senju? Or even the Hokage? The entire village would welcome a new generation of the Senju Clan with open arms. Why go out of their way to seek him out?

Years spent investigating crimes and fighting wars alike had honed his instincts to a razor edge and this mystery was setting all of them off.

"I will read what you brought me," he said to the group as he stood and took the scroll back from Shisui. "I will make it a priority, given my duty as the Clan Head. In the meantime, I extend an invitation to my home for the night, at least. Shisui," the boy straightened. "Burn this table."

"Aww, but it grew so well."

"Hush, Akiko. Do you want people to know we're here?"

Another clue. He took it gladly.

"Please, follow me. I will escort you, myself."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, sir?" Shisui interjected. "People will have questions."

"So will my wife." He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "Do you want to answer them?"

"Ah, no, sir. I'll stay and burn this."

That's what he thought.

"Come," he said to his three guests. "I will introduce you to Mikoto."

Needless to say, the sight of the Chief of Police leaving the department hours before the end of his shift attracted attention. He wasn't concerned, though. Soon enough, the children's identity would come to light and all would be explained. In the meantime, he had a lot of reading to do. If what the children said was true, then that meant a daughter of the Senju Clan had sent her children to him to safeguard in the case of her death. He was not about to take the implications of that lightly.

Mikoto was not expecting him to walk through their door so early in the day and it was clear on her face. She was also not expecting him to do it with a young woman and children in tow. That, too, was clear on her face. She glanced from the road weary group to her husband, face carefully blank even as her eyes bored into his soul. He threw a few hand signs at her in a brief—severely lacking—explanation. Children—Mission—Guests—One Night.

"This is my wife, Mikoto," he told their guests. "Mikoto these are…"

…

"This is Akiko," he said gruffly, gesturing to the one child whose name he knew. The little girl giggled at his expense, and his wife—the traitor—joined in. There was an edge to her laughter that only those who knew her could recognize. Fugaku was in for a lecture, but not here. Not in front of guests.

"I see," Mikoto said with a gentle smile. "So, Akiko-chan, who have you brought with you?"

The girl grew suddenly shy under Mikoto's attention, ducking behind her sibling despite being an inch or two taller. "Um, this is Akira, my twin. And-and this is Oni-baba!"

The young woman sighed. "Okuda. My name is Okuda."

"That's what I said."

"You know it isn't."

"I see," Mikoto interjected softly, her training as an infiltration specialist coming to bear. Though she rarely went on missions now that they had children, she was still well known in kunoichi circles as a master of her craft. "Well, since you'll be our guests tonight, would you like to help yourselves to a bath? Or maybe a meal?"

As if it could hear her, Akiko's stomach growled loudly. The child wrapped her arms around her abdomen and flushed bright red under her tan. Mikoto's expression softened with genuine affection as she reached down to ruffle the girl's fluffy brown hair.

"A meal it is."

Trusting that his wife had their guests well in hand, Fugaku slipped away to his office before he could be dragged into a group meal. Once again, he unsealed the scroll and picked up the first of the many he would need to read.

It was many hours later that a knock cut through his concentration. He looked up as Mikoto walked across the room to place a plate of food on his desk.

"Our guests have gone to bed. Akiko-chan has many bruises and a few fresher wounds, but they're all healthy, otherwise." She leaned a hip against it and crossed her arms over her chest, ready and waiting for an explanation. Instead of speaking, he handed her the scroll he was rereading. Like him, she activated her Sharingan to cut down the reading time. He watched as her expression went from mildly annoyed—from having to play hostess on one of the few days both children were away, one on a mission, the other on an academy training trip—to openly horrified. That was his reaction, too, the first time he read it.

"What is this, Fugaku," she said with a tremor in her voice. "Where did you…?"

"The children brought it," he said with a sigh and a roll of his neck. "Their mother died to protect it."

Her lips thinned to a grim line. "I can see why someone would kill to get this. If what this says is true, then—."

"That isn't even all of it." He gestured to the pile of scrolls he'd ploughed his way through earlier. "Just the worst."

"By the Sage," Mikoto whispered. "Then…the Clan…wait, how do we know this is true? It could be false information sent by our enemies." She trailed off as Fugaku shook his head.

"They're Senju, Mikoto. I don't know how or why," he continued over her quiet gasp. "But those children have the Mokuton. Their mother sent them to us, not their clansmen, for a reason. Here," he passed her another scroll and pointed at a specific passage. "Read that."

It was hard not to mark up the scrolls with his own writing and highlights, but he didn't want to damage their credibility for when he showed them to the elders. And he would show them to the elders. Their contents were too life shattering not to.

"How is this possible?" She said through a tight throat. "This doesn't make any sense! The village worships the Senju Clan. Why would anyone—?"

She cut herself off with a hand pressed to her mouth. He understood that reaction. Saying something so terrible out loud was almost like accepting it as truth.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the weight of the scrolls' revelations bearing down on them. When Mikoto broke the silence, her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Do you know who wrote these? It's the same handwriting on all of them, right?"

Fugaku pinched the bridge of his nose. That was another thing. As important as the information was, he couldn't overlook the risks and, most likely, death, suffered by the man who'd acquired it. The contribution he'd made to the Uchiha and Senju Clans was too great to go unrewarded, but giving any amount of repayment would mean letting his family—and their annoyingly nosy allies—know exactly why they were being rewarded.

"It's Akimichi Choukichi."

The grimace on his wife's face was a reflection of his own feelings. Their lives were about to get very complicated.