Author's Note: This is a very, very long chapter, but it all really needed to be together.

Thank you to everyone for your support and encouragement on this story! I'm really, really happy I have the opportunity to write it.

The updates might slow a bit over the next month. I've been very fortunate to receive a new job and I'll be moving. Regardless, I'll keep writing!

Again, thank you all sincerely for your support!

As the story goes, there was once a man who worked for the Sage of Six Paths. He did heavy labor, making use of his large, muscular build to accomplish great feats of strength. It was said that he once lifted an entire mountain and moved it aside to help a local village gain access to water. The villagers were so grateful that they gave him their secret recipe for fermented cabbage. Hearing of these feats, the Sage sought to repay the man. The man waved off the Sage with a smile.

"I'm always happy to help," he said.

He wanted no material gains and only sought an honest living.

When the Sage persisted, the strong man gestured toward the small children playing in the courtyard of his home. He asked that his children be provided for and protected in the years to come, should he ever fall in battle. He knew that the world of shinobi was doomed to danger and malcontent by its very nature, but he wished that his descendants would have good health in their blood.

The Sage, being grateful to this man for his unfailing support and friendship, agreed to the request and listed seven herbs that he had encountered in his travels— seven herbs that would ensure strength and good health.

That was the origin of the Ritual of Seven Herbs, a tradition that was as old as the Akimichi Clan, predating even Konoha.

It demanded that seven various grasses, plants, and vegetables be consumed before midnight on the evening of a ninja's rites.

Her hand rose to rest on the forehead protector that sat around her neck. Part of her worried that they would recall the decision, a strange anxiety. By the eyes of the clan though, as long as she consumed the Seven, she would be a kunoichi of the Akimichi—ranked or not.

Everything in the Akimichi Clan involved some kind of story.

At least, that was the way Miho understood it. And she had been studying the customs of her clan since she was born. Best she could tell, the herbs were meant to represent the seven pillars of the Akimichi identity.

Miho's mouth watered as she stared at her mother flitting around the kitchen.

This was also an Akimichi tradition, one that she had been anticipating for weeks.

The graduation party.

The entire clan took part in the celebration, cooking up their finest recipes to commemorate the accomplishments of the newest Akimichi shinobi. Miho glanced to her right and saw her brother licking his lips. He glanced to her in the same moment and he smiled wide, eyes crinkling.

Chōji was practically glowing with happiness.

Shikamaru passed. Miho passed. Chōji passed. Ino passed. Hell, Kiba passed.

She imagined that Chōji had wanted nothing more in his life.

Miho's smile faded and she swallowed, looking away.

Naruto, though…

Everything would be fine, wouldn't it?

It was fine last time. Then and there.

It'd be fine again.

Still the anxiety roiled in her gut.

"You wanted takoyaki (1), right?"

Her mother turned a bit and grinned at them, fluffy cheeks rose-colored from the heat of the kitchen. When both children nodded vigorously, she gestured toward the table. Hurriedly, Miho rushed forward and pushed out the chair, settling down to watch the food with gleaming eyes. Miho could feel her stomach churning and she wasted no time in reaching for a sweet bun that sat on the center plate of the table.

Chōji seemed to consider her actions and then reached forward to grab a cookie, stuffing it into his mouth with a grin. His chip bag was left to be finished later.

Miho closed her eyes to savor the way the sugar melted in her mouth. It seemed to flutter there, making her heart dance with excitement.

"These are— so good. Mom, so good."

When she opened her eyes again, she saw her mother looking them over with a proud grin. Chōji had his eyes closed still, a big smile bending around the cookie.

"Your aunts and uncles are cooking up your favorite festival foods. No ikayaki, per your hate of the stuff." Miho gagged at the mere mention of that food, remembering when her father tricked her into eating it. "I'm making your favorite desserts, of course."

"Is Aunt Midori making her yakisoba? Is she?" Chōji grinned, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

Their aunt was the owner of a popular grill restaurant and she was arguably the best cook in the clan. Miho could feel him bouncing in his chair. She grinned broadly, laughing at his enthusiasm through her sweet bun.

"She makes the best yakisoba! It's soft and tastes great going down, too! What about cake, will there be cake?"

"What about me? I thought you liked my soba noodles?" Her mother looked a little offended and Miho raised her hands in placation, not wanting her to get mad on such a great day. In an instant, her mother's irritated expression disappeared and was replaced by the same proud smile. "Alright. Just for today you're allowed to like someone else's food. I'm making cakes, cookies, buns, maybe even some dango."

Miho actually felt a growl of excitement welling in her throat, but she choked it down. Chōji didn't bother and actually purred at the notion of so many sweets.

It was the stuff of dreams for any Akimichi.

"Alright. Alright. That's enough loitering! If I let you sit around here, the two of you will eat all of my goodies." Miho wasted no time in giving an honest nod. Her mother chuckled. "You need to go get ready. Your father will be home in an hour. That's when the party starts. Go on! Go on! I laid out your clothes."

Her mother made a shooing motion and turned back toward her mixing bowl.

Pushing herself from her chair, Miho hurried down the hallway—her footsteps thundering along the hollow wood floors. She could hear Chōji's laughs echoing behind her, causing her to turn as she reached the doorway to her bedroom.

Chōji stopped at his room with smile so wide that his eyes were shut. His meaty fingers clutched the doorframe. She stared at him a moment, her own smile growing wider. For a moment, the anxiety dissipated.

Naruto would be fine, wouldn't he?

"Chōji…We did it." Her hand reached up to the metal and cloth around her neck. "We became ninja."

Chōji nodded, eyes opening. "Yeah. Yeah, we did." He shook his head and started down the hallway to stand in front of her, reaching out his hand. Miho mirrored the action and looked down at their linked hands. "It was hard, but we did it. We became ninja. Together." Miho nodded her head, looking up at him though her head was lowered. "I will definitely become a great ninja. What about you, Miho? We'll grow together, won't we? We'll both be strong ninja one day."

Miho felt a surge of pride rush through her, knowing that Chōji could accomplish anything he set his mind to. He was destined for greatness—the heir of the Akimichi Clan. He would overcome all obstacles in his way. She had absolute confidence in him.

As for herself? Her confidence wavered, doubt tugging at the pit of her stomach. The task she had set for herself…It wouldn't be easy. Changing the future, changing the world...It was heavy.

She nodded anyway, only slightly at first, but with more and more strength.

"We'll do it. We'll do it. We're going to be strong."

Chōji's brows pulled downward and he stared at her, smile dropping a bit at the almost imperceptible waver in her voice. His other hand rose and he settled it on her shoulder.

She felt herself falter. She should have known that Chōji would sense it.

He always did.

"We won't leave each other behind, Miho. I'll never leave you behind. Not like then. Not like the marathon, not again. I— You're my sister. I won't ever…I won't ever abandon you."

His lips set into a firm line and she could see a flicker of him—a flicker of her brother's confident self, hidden behind his insecurities. The man that he would someday become. She could see it, see him. If she lived long enough, she looked forward to meeting him.

"I'm… proud of you. All this time, you've been working hard and you never gave up, no matter what. I wanted to say that before we—before we're on different teams."

She didn't lower her head a bit as tears pricked her eyes. Her hand tightened around his before she threw herself toward him, latching her arms around his shoulders. Instinctually, he returned the embrace. The hug was fierce and strong and warm.

"I'm proud of you, too. Always. You've worked so hard." Her eyes widened and she pulled herself away, a grin pulling at her lips. "I got something for you! Hold on!"

Before he could say a word, she spun around and sprinted into her room. Her feet caught on the random pieces of clothing that lay around the space, before she fell to her knees in front of a large trunk. She could hear Chōji in the doorway, heavily breathing through his nose. He was trying not to cry.

"I went to the market with Lee and Ino last week. That was an adventure! I saw this and I thought about you immediately. I mean, we both have a thing for scarves—"

"That kind of ruins the surprise, Miho." Chōji laughed, coming to kneel on the floor next to her while she rummaged in the trunk. "It's amazing that you lost it that quickly though. You're normally so organized."

"Nightmares and exams," Miho answered without thought as a way to explain her mess of a room. When she saw Chōji's eyes narrow in her peripheral vision, she shook her head. "Please, don't start."

"You should tell someone. Those dreams…aren't normal. Even if you don't tell me."

Miho fought off the guilt. With a thinly triumphant smile, she pulled the scarf from the trunk and handed it over to her brother. He continued to watch her for a moment, clearly noticing the fact that she was diverting his attention and ignoring him. Smiling, he took the proffered gift and ran his hand along the red fabric.

She would tell him soon.

She wouldn't be able to avoid it anymore.

"It's awesome, Miho." When his hand reached the end of the scarf, he held up the design and brought the pad of his thumb over the raised burgundy threading. "Your work?" It was the Akimichi clan symbol, roughly embroidered into the cotton fabric. When she nodded, he reached up and unwound the white scarf from around his neck. "I should have gotten you a present, too."

"No, I just wanted to—" He placed the white fabric around her neck and set to work looping it around twice and folding it in the way he had worn it before. "Chōji, you don't have to give this to me! It's your favorite! You don't even have to wear the one I got you. It was just because I thought that the red would suit you, that's all!"

He was already wrapping it around his neck as he had done the one before, grinning so widely again that his eyes were closed. He wasn't listening to her, Miho realized, and she just settled back onto her haunches.

"You're so stubborn."

"Uh huh," he agreed as he stood. Miho followed suit, shaking her head. "Shikamaru says I'm the most stubborn out of everyone. You're stubborn, too. We're related to Pa, what did you expect?"

"Shikamaru's never wrong." Miho responded.

She watched as he strolled out of the room, his hand reaching deep into his pocket to retrieve his half-eaten bag of potato chips. Unable to stop a grin, she turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her wild hair was just barely contained in a ponytail and the hereditary swirls on her cheeks seemed brighter and more prominent than ever. She raised her hands and rested them atop the scarf, pulling the forehead protector to rest over the fabric. Glancing toward the clothing on the bed— a dress, obviously laid out by her mother— she deflated a bit and then nodded.

There was drumming, steady beats pulsating with the ecstatic energy of the night. She could already hear the raucous laughter of her uncles, aunts, and cousins. Excitement was growing in her chest as she followed her parents out to the central courtyard. Her sweaty hands ran along the skirt of her dress.

In just an hour or so, the Ritual of Seven Herbs would solidify her place as a kunoichi of the clan.

Until then, the atmosphere would remain joyous. Her eyes caught a bounce in her father's gait and she grinned. The Akimichi weren't necessarily a rowdy bunch. Nearly always, they were considered mild-mannered and cultured, but the celebrative atmosphere of festivals always seemed to bring out the "wild side" of Akimichis, if you could call it that.

Really, what it came down to was that the Akimichi loved parties—because parties related to the two most important of Akimichi priorities: a plethora of food and the presence of family.

Miho could recall various clan-wide celebrations as she was growing up—from marriages to babies, from elder birthdays to religious observances.

She could remember her cousin Chihiro's wedding, which was a huge affair with fireworks and even a huge collection of clan drummers. It was only short a few fishing booths to being equal with any annual village-wide festival. Her widow was on the other side of the ceremony grounds, up to her arms in shredded cabbage. At least she was smiling.

There was a round of raucous laughter around the Elders.

For being so "mild-mannered," her family sure did love to celebrate.

She glanced over to where Chōji was chewing on a pork bun that he had filched from the kitchen before they began the trek to the courtyard.

"Are you two ready?"

Their father came to a stop while the clan let out a cheer for the drummers, who had reached the climax of the rapid beating. Miho resisted the urge to raise a fist like she would with Lee and instead nodded her head. He turned, looking down upon them both with obvious pride.

"You have done the Akimichi clan proud." He lowered himself down to one knee and rested a hand on each of their shoulders. "You've made me proud." He glanced to Miho and smiled. "You will grow to be a kunoichi as strong as—" He stopped, shaking his head. "—as strong as the women of legend."

Miho felt tears pricking at her eyes, noticing his hesitation.

Because she wasn't dumb.

She knew. She'd known for years.

Not everything, but she knew enough.

His gaze then shifted to Chōji.

"You are strong, Chōji. You're kind and you're going to be a good man. A man that can protect his friends and family."

Miho watched her brother's chin rise just a little, his confidence seeming stronger than it had ever been. She nodded resolutely, seeing him glance her way, looking for some sort of reassurance. She was with him, every single step of the way.

Miho would readily admit that she had more confidence in her brother than she had in herself. He nodded in return, reaching up to grasp his scarf. Her father noticed that movement and looked between them both, his smile seeming to light the entire hallway.

The renewed drumming grew louder and louder and louder, seeming to rattle the entire compound. Her father stood, saddling himself back and pushing the two of them toward the rice paper doorway. Nervously, Miho shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her heart was thundering in her chest, spurred on by the rapid drumbeat outside.

Then, silence.

The doors slid open and the loud cheers could likely be heard all over the village. Miho felt herself stagger backward until she bumped into her mother's stomach. Hands came to rest on her shoulders and she could hear her mother's voice in her ear.

"Have a good time, Miho. You deserve this."

She gave Miho's shoulders a squeeze of support before releasing. The young girl could hardly believe her eyes.

This was nothing like any clan festival she had seen before. There were streamers stretched across the space, supported in the middle by tall, painted poles that held lanterns of red and gold. The soft glow of the lanterns illuminated each and every face of her family members, cheeks rosy and flushed with the exertion of laughing and joking.

Along the opposite side of the wide courtyard, stalls had been erected— stalls that were used in nearly every village festival for Akimichi wares and foodstuffs. Far too the left, she could see her elder cousins— Maruten and Tonkatsu, both of which were battling it out on a full-sized wrestling mat.

Catching her attention, Maruten raised his hand in a wave and his brother quickly tackled him to the ground. Grinning now, Miho look around to where Chōji was standing with his mouth wide open.

"All of this for us?" He sounded dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe it.

Neither could she, quite frankly.

This put every other celebration to shame.

"You're the heirs of our clan." Elder Ayumu explained from where she was sitting nearby. She gave a grand gesture toward the merry-making. "Not to mention, it gives us an excuse to eat festival food. Do you really need more explanation than that?"

Chōji shook his head and ran off toward the stalls on the other side, disappearing into the crowd. Miho made to follow him.

"Wait, Miho. Sweet bun, give an old woman a moment." Miho's gaze settled on her elderly aunt, who was watching her carefully. Elder Chojiro had clearly braided her hair as it was pinned up in intricate plaits. The old woman would never have pulled that style off herself. Miho grinned. "I made you some karumetou. It's over there." Reaching into her pocket, the old woman pulled out something, holding it out with a quivering hand. "Take this, sweet bun."

"What—"

"A graduation gift. It was your mother's, when she was your age. I've held onto it for quite some time." The elderly woman reached forward, placing the scroll into the girl's open palm. Miho's brows pulled together as she stared at the intricate seal on the red scroll. "It's a blood seal. It can only be opened by you. Open it when you are ready. Until then, keep it in a safe place."

With the deep, meaningful look that Elder Ayumu gave her, Miho knew.

This belonged to her biological mother.

Miho nodded, holding it tightly to her chest.

"You look so much like her…" Elder Ayumu sounded wistful, reaching forward to brush the black hair from Miho's shoulder. "Go and enjoy yourself, sweetest bun." The woman seemed to think of something before smiling. "It appears we won the best. You're a good girl, Miho. Go on now."

A little confused, Miho nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Elder Ayumu. I will take care of this. Whatever it is."

"I'm sure you will. Now, see about some food before I up your calories again."

Miho pushed the scroll into her right pocket, trying to counter her racing heart. It was something to think more on later.

She was still an Akimichi, no matter what. Like her mother.

And if she felt just a little out of place, then she ignored that feeling.

Because it was wrong.

She grabbed the first snack she could find— a skewer of glazed beef— and popped it into her mouth. All three pieces at once. She pulled them off with her teeth and focused on chewing.

Her mother was an Akimichi. Full stop. And her father—

Let it go, Miho.

It was just exquisite, the celebration. There were delicious piles of mochi, onigiri, and sekihan. So many rice treats to choose from, all practically glistening with scrumptious potential. Miho felt herself salivating as she eyed every single option. She could hear her second cousin laughing behind the stand as she saddled up to the array.

He was the main purveyor of rice in the entire village, she knew, he owned several outlying farms that supplied a majority of the stocked rice products. Meanwhile, his younger brother owned one of the best distilleries in the entirety of Fire. The man knew how to cook rice unlike anyone she had ever encountered.

"Miho-Miho, you're drooling! Show some decorum, will you?"

She drew the back of her hand under her mouth and tried not to roll her eyes. She hadn't been drooling. His waving hand drew her attention away from the food and she stood a little straighter in his presence. He had always been a formidable shinobi.

"Finally made it around to little ol' me, did you? I saw that you went to the yaki stalls first. What's the meaning of that, huh? Showing favoritism already? You're barely even groomed as an adviser and yet here you are playing favorites! What shall we do, this poor clan of ours?"

Miho opened her mouth and then closed it. She had years of practice playing with her Uncle Zosui's boisterous personality. After all, he had passed it on to his son Maruten and she dealt with him practically every other day during clan sparring sessions. He was the second most proficient in bō techniques after Elder Torifu.

"If you want my favor, Uncle Zosui, you have to earn it. Not that my favor can mean much to a man of your stature." She raised her chin and gestured toward the array of delectable rice treats. For a moment he actually looked impressed. Then, her expression softened at the sight of a particularly delectable-looking onigiri and her stern expression melted into hungry desperation. "Can I? Can I, Uncle Zosui? Please?"

Her uncle snorted and shook his head, wild brown hair rolling over his shoulders.

"You were very convincing for all of five seconds. Sounded just like a real advisor."

When she didn't look away from the rice ball, he let out a loud, booming laugh and gestured forward with one of his large hands.

"Go ahead! Go ahead! Eat five or ten for all I care. Hell, eat twenty! They were made to be eaten anyway! You'll need the energy starting tomorrow, believe you, me! Lots and lots of energy, if I hear right."

She grabbed seven different kinds, stuffing one whole rice ball into her mouth. Zosui's rice was always sweet and sticky and delicious. How did Maruten maintain his weight? He should weigh more with his father being such an awesome cook! Her eyes closed as she savored the flavor.

Her mother would be dismayed for sure. She always thought that she cooked the best rice. Miho let her believe it too.

Then, it hit her. His words.

"What—What do you mean I'll need it tomorrow?" Her eyes opened and she saw the man hide his large face in his meaty palms. Swallowing in one large gulp, she leaned forward eagerly and bounced on her toes. "You know something, don't you? You know who my teacher will be."

"I'm as ignorant as they come, just ask your Pop."

He worked in the Jōnin Corps. He knew something, especially from the way he was rubbing his hands together. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest. He knew who her teacher would be! She could tell from the nigh-wicked gleam in his steel gray eyes. Her mouth opened to begin her rapid-fire questions, but in the blink of an eye, her mouth was stuffed with onigiri again. With a swift movement, he bopped her chin upward and let out a peal of obnoxious laughter when her thick cheeks puffed out.

"I swear—Just like your mother! She used to do that! Looked just like a chipmunk with her big ol' cheeks!"

Miho chewed as fast as she could, trying to formulate her questions. Which mother? "Y-You know who—"

"Can't say that I do," Zosui shrugged. She shot him a disbelieving stare. "Gotta say, I think you drew the short senbon. Considering who else is gonna be teaching, well, you might come out okay…" Miho just barely withheld a snort, thinking of Hatake Kakashi and his litany of issues. And her brother's soon-to-be chain-smoking teacher. "Be patient with them. They're all messes. Say, would you look at the time? It's time—"

"—to begin the Ritual of Seven Herbs!"

Her father's voice rose over the din of music and talking. The drummers slowed their rhythm to two beats every second or so. Like a heartbeat. Miho felt her muscles lock and she went still, mid-chew. Her attention swung around to where her father was standing at the center of the courtyard. Her discussion was quickly forgotten.

"Come along, Miho! Chōji, finish your cookie."

Miho felt a shove to her shoulders and she stumbled forward, tripping a bit as her feet got caught underneath her. Her heart seemed to pulsate in her throat. Nervously, she swallowed bit-by-bit the remaining rice that had been stuffed into her mouth, shooting Uncle Zosui a dark look over her shoulder.

"It's that time. My children have finally graduated the Academy."

"We knew they would!" Someone—her cousin, Emi—shouted from the back corner. She was one of the most supportive and outspoken of the Akimichi teens. Miho sent the older girl a shy smile, while she was given a salute in response. "Got a couple of stubborn mules there!"

"Chōji will be a kind-hearted mule one day!"

"Miho's the one that will kick you in the teeth."

Miho focused on her footsteps, glancing toward Chōji every few seconds to see the color on his cheeks growing darker and darker. By the time he came to stand beside her, his blush was moving to his ears and neck. The family always did this at gatherings, especially those that inducted new, young shinobi into the clan ranks.

Whereas other clans were demure or cold or negative, this was the atmosphere of the Akimichi. New ninja of the clan were greeted with warmth and love, support for their strengths and respect for their weaknesses. With the way Chōji wore his confidence on his sleeve, it was only right that the clan bolster his morale. Afterall, he was the heir of the clan.

"Chōji will be a great leader!"

"Miho will support him!"

Chōji kept his head lowered, not used to the outright praise. Before she realized it, her hand was reaching out and she rested it on his shoulder. In an instant, the change was visible. His back straightened a bit, almost as if he had realized she was watching him. A small smile pulled at her dry lips. He'd at least feign some confidence in front of his little sister. He always did. Over the years, he had grown into some feigned confidence just to reassure Miho.

Miho knew though, some of his confidence was real. Because it had to be.

If he wanted her to gain confidence, then he had to as well. The clan continued to shower him with praise and support as their father gestured toward a pair of red-clothed pillows that sat before two simple wooden serving trays. One pillow sat slightly ahead of the other and Miho quickly positioned herself in the secondary seat, eyes continually focused on Chōji as he lowered himself into a formal position.

"Our sixteenth head!"

"You did well, my student!"

That was Elder Torifu's voice!

He was supposed to be in the Capital!

Miho felt her breath catch when her father waved a hand.

Immediately, the shouts of praise were hushed. The quietened drumbeats remained, as they always did during the ceremony. They symbolized the heart of the clan—continuous, never faltering, constant.

Her father's voice was lower, stronger—he was no longer just her Papa; he was the fifteenth head of the Akimichi Clan: their leader and patriarch.

"You both have passed your graduation exams and have exhibited strengths in the ninja arts. You have chosen to live the life of a shinobi and kunoichi, sacrificing all for your clan and your village." Her head nodded, following the example of the others she had watched participate in the ceremony over the years. "You will now take part in the Ritual of Seven Herbs, thus cementing your place as a ninja of the clan."

Her father turned slightly and took a scroll that was handed over by— Miho's eyes widened. Elder Torifu. The weathered old man looked in her direction and his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes though…His eyes showed how proud he was.

"Young ones of the clan," he murmured, graveled voice tumbling over the words. "These herbs were gifted to us by our allies—the Nara and Yamanaka. Three of the herbs you consume hail from the Nara stores. Three from the Yamanaka gardens. The seventh and final herb will represent the Akimichi clan. Consume all seven and you will be a member of the Akimichi shinobi, regardless of rank within the village."

There was something entrancing about his deep timbre. She could feel her anticipation building in her chest. He nodded toward her, a smiling ticking at the corner of his chapped lips.

"Seri, Nazuna, Hakobera—contributions of the Yamanaka." She watched as her mother stepped forward, a bag in her hand. "Seri, the water dropwort, symbolizes perseverance and persistence. When battles are close, you may win by sheer determination."

Miho held her breath as her mother lowered herself to kneel in front of them. Her mother reached into the bag and withdrew a mixture of crushed herbs, using her other hand to settle the bag onto the ground.

"Nazuna, the shepard's purse, symbolizes tenacity—the willingness to dust off and try again when one fails."

Her mother shifted forward and removed the cover of the seven-herb porridge that sat on the table between them.

The steam that rose from the dish billowed out, caught on a breeze that swept through the courtyard. Miho felt her heart begin to beat in time to the slowly-quickening drum beats that her cousins were hammering out nearby. Her attention shifted to her father and then to Elders Ayumu and Chojiro, who were watching nearby. There were tears in Elder Chojiro's eyes.

"Hakobera pushes you to exceed yourself and your expectations." Her mother sprinkled the herbs onto the bowl of porridge and smiled brightly, tears glistening in her eyes with the lantern firelight.

Miho thought her mother never looked so beautiful.

"Surpass yourself and prosper in the clan," her mother murmured. "Remember that. Always seek to grow."

Her father stepped forward then and pulled a small bag from the belt loop of his tunic.

"Hotokenoza, Gogyo, Suzuna—contributions of the Nara."

Miho felt her heart beating wildly in her throat as her father paced toward her with slow and careful steps. She could feel Chōji's attention shifting to her, eyes wide with wonder at the ceremony. Seeing it hardly compared to participating in it. He held her gaze for a long moment before their father began speaking again.

Together. That's what his eyes said. We're doing this together.

"Hotokenoza symbolizes patience and serenity. May you have tolerance and endurance in the face of all your troubles and battles."

A smile began to appear on her father's face, though she couldn't quite say why. She mirrored the smile though, unable to help herself. His hand reached into the small bag, which seemed too utterly tiny for his large hands. He withdrew the mixture of herbs and sat back on his haunches.

"Gogyo, the cudweed, represents all the potential the Akimichi body possesses. Nurture that strength."

The porridge steam caught the wind. It was a comforting scent, seeming to rest inside her chest as she held her breath. Her eyes opened and she watched as the herbs were sprinkled over the top.

"Suzuna, the turnip," her father explained, "cooked into this porridge, symbolizes the humility that you must have when entering the shinobi life. You must never be too proud to seek help, especially from family, friends, and our allies." He nodded resolutely, pushing himself to stand. His hand reached out and he helped their mother to her feet.

Miho could sense the energy of the courtyard was growing more and more ecstatic. Her feet were tingling beneath her as she anxiously awaited the final words, the final herb of the seven. She'd eat the porridge then.

Then, and only then, would she be an official kunoichi of the clan.

"The suzushiro, plant of the Akimichi."

Elder Torifu spoke up again as he hobbled forward to stand before them. It was tradition that the eldest member of the clan would present the final herb of the mixture—the old welcoming the young. Miho sat a little straighter and she saw her brother do the same. Elder Torifu spooned the porridge into two fine china bowls.

"This plant represents... integrity. It is a symbol of the honor that the Akimichi possess. The radish grows in full sunlight, can grow multiple times a year in many environments. So, too, must you. Not just as shinobi and kunoichi of Konoha, but as members of a clan which draws its strength from the food which we consume. It is honor and goodness."

Miho's mind flashed back to the story of the two ninja.

"There are two ninja in you. There are two ninja in me. They are both battling for supremacy, for power. They are both battling for control of your soul and body. One shinobi is strength, courage, goodness, faith, and hope-He is integrity. The other is disappointment, fear, anger, disloyalty, hate, and despair. He is corruption embodied. They fight constantly, inside us all. They are always fighting to gain control."

Chōji looked up at their father with wide eyes, "Which ninja will win?"

"The one you feed."

Miho blinked, mind returning to the present as Elder Torifu handed her a bowl of porridge – the nanakusa-gayu. She followed Chōji's lead and reached down to grasp the wooden spoon, dipping it down into the rice to mix the herbs together. Pausing, she glanced back to the elder.

"When you consume this porridge, you cleanse yourself of your past and restart your lives as a shinobi and kunoichi of the Akimichi Clan." He smiled broadly, the wrinkles of his face fading slightly in his obvious happiness. His eyes alighted on her, full of pride. "Take a bite, Chōji and Miho. Eat as much as you want. Savor the meal and grow stronger."

With a grin, she did just that.

The taste of the porridge was light and, in the first bite alone, she got a bit of radish. Her stomach, though it was aching from being overextended, was soothed by the simple and light flavors that floated on her tongue. Some salt had been added and she was certain that it was her mother that cooked the porridge. Miho knew that amount of salt anywhere. Her mother always made porridge when she or Chōji were sick, always with the same amount of seasoning.

She closed her eyes and felt herself sag just a bit in relief.

She was now a kunoichi of the Akimichi and of Konoha. It was a long and difficult road, but it was worth it. So many hours of training and working and struggling. Just to taste this porridge and see the happiness on the faces of her family.

Now she could continue to—

She gasped, eyes flying open. She felt small pieces of rice become stuck in her throat as she tried to swallow. Trying to breathe shallowly, she focused on a small pit of rock that was on the ground in front of her. It was happening again. Again. The pain. It was a hot searing flash just under her rib cage at first. Her senses expanded to her celebrating family, none of which seemed to notice the sudden look of agony that had flickered across her face.

As quickly as she could, she forced her expression to become neutral- only the slightest downturn to her lips as she sat the wooden spoon down onto the serving tray. Chōji was still eating beside her, woofing down the porridge at an unbelievable pace. He was so focused that he didn't notice the way she cringed. She felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably and, for a moment, she thought she would throw up.

Something was wrong.

Anxiety.

Naruto.

How could she just leave him to go it alone tonight?

She could hide many things: her nightmares, her fears, her shame, her visions. The future, what was coming. She had done so for years. Too many years. She couldn't keep hiding this panic though. It was too difficult.

Fear lurched through her chest with a particularly strong stab. Foreboding spider-crawled up her spine and she forced herself to her feet, taking a few unstable steps toward the house.

"Miho?" Her brother's question was muffled by porridge spittle.

"B-Bathroom," she gagged out. Her hand rose to pull at the scarf that rested around her neck. It felt too tight, like she was being choked.

The sun had set hours ago.

It wouldn't be long before Naruto stole the scroll. Miho ran up to her room and slammed the door shut, trying to breath through the panic. Leaning on the door, she took a deep breath and held it, eyes moving to a picture that sat on her bookshelf. The anxiety was like a tidal wave. Not a quick wash of nerves, but an inundation that only seemed to get worse. And worse. And worse.

The picture was from their last birthday. When Naruto had spent the entire day in the safe confines of the Akimichi property, gotten his customary yellow cake with chocolate icing baked by her mother, and nearly drowned in the largest bowl of ramen that any Akimichi could make. He was wearing a shirt with the Uzumaki symbol stitched on the front. She'd stitched it.

His family symbol.

And he'd given her a plant.

It sat on the windowsill.

Miho rushed forward and grabbed her bō from the corner, slinging it onto her back. From her desk drawer, she withdrew her bandages, quickly wrapping her knees and her hands. As she hurried, she kept glancing at that photo.

And she felt ashamed.

Stories need a catalyst. They need rising action, introductions. They had requisites. Momentum. Naruto needed to steal the scroll. He needed to be saved by Iruka. He needed to learn the technique. She knew these things. Some actions needed to happen. Ino said they were "plot points." But…

"Miho?"

…he didn't have to do all of it alone.

Forget the stupid plot, Miho!

Turning, Miho straightened herself and looked back at Chōji, unwavering. "I gotta go."

He started to say something, but stopped. After a moment, he stepped back from the door to let her pass. He followed along behind her, keeping his footsteps uncharacteristically quiet. She could feel his concern. "I— I'll cover for you. Say you got sick. I…That's not lying, right?"

"No, Chōji, it's not." They reached the back of the house. Everyone would be distracted by the ongoing celebration, so she could slip out past the east gate. It was never guarded during parties since it was so overgrown. Stopping, she looked out at the darkened village. She wondered briefly if she was making a mistake. Taking a deep breath, Miho turned to her brother. "I—I'm sorry. I gotta—"

"I never asked. Never asked what all of it is or what it was. Why. I never asked. And I'm not going to ask now." He chewed on his lip before raising his head. "I just hope that someday, you can tell me. Because you can tell me." Miho surged forward, throwing her arms around him. He gave a wet laugh, returning the hug with such fierceness that Miho gasped. "You can trust me, Miho. I won't let you down."

"I know." Miho stepped away. "I know. I'll be back later, okay?"

"Okay."

Miho ran.

She was halfway there when the alarm sounded. Two blasts. Level Two. Chunin and higher on alert. Genin and down, along with civilians, off the streets. No imminent threat. Miho tried to ignore how her heart lept into her throat as she sprinted past the chunin main office and the Academy. Naruto would be headed for a heavily forested area, but Miho couldn't remember where that was. She could see the images in her head, but with no context. Coming to a crossroads, she skidded to a stop and looked down the two paths. If she got caught out during a Level Two, she'd be in trouble.

It was a risk she was willing to take.

There was a building in her head, an outpost or a station.

The closest station within Konoha was in the northern forest. It was a "seal maintenance site." They'd visited during the first years of the Academy. Which meant that the site was a decoy used for storage. Miho spun on her heel and darted in that direction.

She wasn't winded when she arrived to the edge of the forest, but her fear made her breathing quick and painful. Her memories of that scene— that battle— were blurry. Mizuki and Iruka and a large shuriken. Naruto's clones.

Taking the bō from her back, she whipped her fingers on her dress and affirmed hold on the wood. Her bandages aided in her grip since they were coated in a sort of plastic tar. At the very least, the staff was comforting. Its presence was reassuring.

Naruto was out here. She could feel it. She could feel it in the very fiber of her bones.

"Never been my thing. Like I wasn't supposed to have a family."

Miho gingerly moved around a large poplar, edging around some undergrowth. The darkness was disconcerting. Her eyes felt impossibly wide, but she couldn't see much of anything in the dim moonlight. Naruto probably wasn't scared of the darkness.

"Then, you showed up and I got to see what a real family was like, ya know?"

Even with the extra help from herself and the others, Naruto hadn't graduated. And Miho left him alone. He said that she was like family and she'd left him for the sake of the plot. Thankfully her bō was reinforced Nara wood or else it would've shattered under her grip. Another lurch of fear shot through her stomach. She made a mistake.

Such a big mistake.

"So, what's a baby genin doin' out here?"

Miho swept the bō around by instinct, barely withholding a yell of surprise. The man caught it with his right hand, crossed over his body. She would've struck his head if the hit had landed. His expression in the moonlight was exceedingly dull. He kept his grip on the staff and pulled something from his mouth with the left hand. Letting out a breath, Miho tried to relax— to show herself as anything but a threat.

This guy was a jōnin.

"You're a jumpy one, aren't you?" He raised his brows, releasing the staff. Miho drew it away, a little unsettled by his nonchalant shrug. She took a couple steps back, trying not to shake. She didn't have time to get caught. "You realize that we're in a Level Two alert, right? That means baby genins and under stay inside. You're outside. What's the deal?"

Brows drawing together, Miho didn't know what to say.

Others would've immediately issued a warning for insubordination, he was asking for an explanation—whoever he was. A bandana was drawn around his head and his hair dipped to his shoulders. He replaced something back into his mouth— Was that a senbon? She couldn't remember his name or what he did. And he waited, hands going to his pockets. Miho didn't know what to say.

My friend stole the Super-Secret Sealing Scroll thing because one of our old teachers is a sick son of a bitch who gets off on torturing people. Oh yeah, and Iruka is out here somewhere too.

OR

Just thought I'd take a stroll in the middle of a Level Two, no big deal.

When all else fails, honesty.

"My friend is somewhere out here. I can't go hide; I need to find him."

Miho tried to make it sound as confident as she could. She even stood a bit taller, aided by her staff. Because it was solid, she could be as well. That's what Elder Torifu taught her.

"Looking for a friend, huh? Okay, then let's see if we can find them. What's their name?"

She pulled in a breath, puffing herself up as much as possible. "Uzumaki Naruto."

His nonchalant demeanor fell away. Brows pulling together, he stared down at her with narrowed eyes. To her surprise, he lowered himself down to one knee to get on her eye level. Miho tried reel in her urge to run. There was a threat in the air, she could feel it. "You know where Uzumaki is?"

"He's out here somewhere." It was time to lie and Miho steeled herself. "He didn't graduate with us. Teacher Mizuki told him that if he could steal some sort of Super-Secret Scroll or whatever that he could graduate. Told him to meet out here." Miho tightened her grip on the staff. The guy's eyes shifted to her grip. "Mizuki is a liar and a jerk and Naruto shouldn't've trusted him. I've gotta find him." Her muscles shifted, but she controlled the urge to run again.

He considered her for a moment, shifting the senbon between his teeth. "You said Mizuki told him to steal it?"

Miho nodded.

"Well, shit."

She barely withheld a caustic snort. Instead, she refocused. "Please, Jōnin, sir. Naruto's out here alone and I gotta help him. Please."

He could've been one of those psychos that hated Naruto. He could've been one of those nutjobs that made it his business to see Naruto suffer. Fear of that is what had her edging away. There was no escaping a jōnin. She was fast now, but she wasn't that fast. As if he'd read her mind, the man smiled around the senbon and stood.

"Well, let's get to it, little lady. We've got a wayward prankster to catch."

He jumped up to a nearby branch and jerked his head toward the denser forest. Miho felt her jaw drop.

"C'mon then. Let's go!"

She followed, heart thundering in her chest. She was one jump behind him for about three minutes before he spoke up, looking over his shoulder. "You got a name?"

"Akimichi Miho."

From what she could see, the corner of his mouth ticked upward. "Chōza's girl?"

"Yeah."

Naruto was out here somewhere.

"Okay. Listen up, Akimichi. They're about half-a-click north. I can sense them. I want you to stay out of the fight. Circle around and get to your friend. Leave the rest to me and Iruka. Got it?"

"Got it."

He nodded, clearly shifting into battle mode. It was like a shroud fell over him and every movement felt deadly. Chakra-enhanced Killing Intent rolled off of him in waves. Miho felt herself go a bit breathless with the force of it. Who the hell was this guy? She nearly didn't notice that he'd stopped on the next branch and he grabbed her arm to throw her to the branch above him, gesturing toward the a clearing nearby. Miho felt her breath catch.

"—created after an incident twelve years ago."

Naruto was looking up toward where Mizuki was positioned. "A rule?"

Mizuki looked more hateful than she had ever seen and every instinct within her demanded that she place herself in between that man and Naruto, at any cost. Her legs were shaking when she forced herself to stay still. Shaking, she looked down to where the jōnin was watching the scene. He seemed to be strategizing, jaw clenched. Then, he glanced up and gestured with two fingers toward the left. Miho nodded and moved.

"It's a rule that everybody knows, but you, Naruto."

"Except me?" Naruto's blue eyes were hauntingly wide from what she could see as she ran to the other side of the building Iruka was pinned to. Miho was only a few feet away now, able to see the scrapes and smudges of dirt on his orange jumpsuit. Naruto's shoulders were shaking. "What is that rule?"

"Stop it, Mizuki!" Iruka shouted.

"A rule that forbids anyone from revealing that you are actually the monster fox." Miho felt the world go still and she sucked in a breath. She'd forgotten just how cruelly Naruto had found out— "In other words, you're the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, who killed Iruka's parents and destroyed our village."

"STOP IT!"

"Everyone has been deceiving you all this time," Teacher Mizuki—No, just Mizuki—taunted. Miho felt her heart fluttering in her chest, terror settling heavily there. Her attention tracked toward where she knew the jōnin was waiting. "Didn't you find it strange? Didn't you find it strange how they treated you? Like dirt. Like they hated you for just being alive."

"No!"

"Naruto!"

"That's why you'll never be accepted in this—"

She remembered this.

She remembered this. Damn it.

If that jōnin didn't move, she would.

Miho threw herself forward from the underbrush beside the building, surging through the onslaught of chakra to situate herself in front of Naruto. Her staff was held at the ready. Naruto's eyes were still shut, chakra swirling. Vaguely, she heard Iruka gasp and groan as he leaned against the village. She could smell the blood.

"What?" Mizuki stopped short as he pulled the shuriken from his back. Miho narrowed her eyes and sank into her stance, digging in her toes. "What's one useless fat-ass going to do?"

Naruto's voice was shaking. His hand came to grip the fabric at her hip. Like he had all those years ago, in that alley. "Mi-Miho?"

"Sorry I'm late." Miho looked over her shoulder. "You ok?"

"N-No, I-I—"

A whirring sound filled the air and she heard Mizuki's voice yell out a command of death. Naruto, in his panic, stumbled back and fell. Miho's stomach lurched and she spun on her heel, seeing the shuriken in the air and— They wouldn't escape that, not with Naruto on the ground. She threw herself over him. It was instinct, pure and simple. Her bō fell away.

"Naruto, Miho, get down!"

Miho landed painfully, arm twisting with Naruto as he rolled. Then something heavy landed on her back and she was suddenly on her side. It all happened so quickly that she didn't even feel the snap of her left arm under her weight. Lying on her side, facing Naruto, Miho cringed. She was to the side enough to be outside of his caged arms, far enough outside to see the blade in his back.

Rolling up, Miho withheld a wince as her left arm jostled— sending sharp waves of pain through her upper arm and shoulder. Damn it. Grabbing the bō in her right hand, she pushed herself up and placed herself between Mizuki and Iruka's back.

"Useless. What do you think you can do? You just another person trying to convince him—"

"That's about enough of that, Mizuki. Dramatic as ever."

The jōnin dropped to the ground in front of her, crouching low.

"Genma! Just what the hell are you doing here?"

"Wh-Why?" Naruto's voice was so small and hurt and desperate. She moved to the side, glancing down at them. Iruka's eyes were clenched shut in pain. "W-Why?"

Miho shuffled herself backward as Iruka spoke, looking to the jōnin— Genma, she realized— for orders. He watched Mizuki carefully as the enemy dropped down from the trees. The jerk was listening. Listening to Iruka's words, the way he was trying to comfort Naruto. Miho noticed that Genma was angling, ready to block any oncoming attacks. But Mizuki's attack wouldn't be physical.

"He's just trying to butter you up so he can get that scroll back. He doesn't care about you. This girl doesn't care about you! He doesn't mean—"

Mizuki went to his knees, hands going to his throat and his eyes bulged.

Shuffling backwards, Miho could see Naruto's eyes go wide as Iruka shifted to kneel in front of him, still shielding him from whatever desperate move Mizuki tried next. Sure enough, his remaining shuriken was flying toward Genma and, behind him, Iruka again. While Genma blocked the attack, Mizuki was throwing around stupid words along with kunai, which pierced Iruka's flak jacket again before Miho was able to throw herself in front of them.

One kunai made it through the shield of her spinning bō, the rest deflected.

It lodged in her left shoulder.

Mizuki seemed to have swallowed the senbon that had been lodged in his throat.

"Why defend him? He killed your family, Iruka! He'll use that scroll to destroy the village! That's what monsters do."

"That is how monsters are, but that's not how Naruto is. He's overcome all of his hardships and he's more of a good shinobi than you'll ever be. He's not a monster! He's Uzumaki Naruto of Konohagakure." Iruka turned, pulling the large shuriken from his back as he shifted. Miho watched as Genma gave the teacher a side-eye. He made eye contact with her, attention skittering to the kunai in her shoulder before he jerked his head toward Iruka. Miho nodded and knelt down, setting the staff down into the grass.

Naruto was shaking, quivering as he stared into nothing.

"You think I can't take you all on?"

"You'd be a fool to, considering you just swallowed a poisoned senbon, but hey— you seem like you've gotten real stupid lately, Mizuki." Genma drawled with a small smirk. He shrugged.

Miho wanted to reach out to Naruto, who was crying, but just as her hand rose— he looked up and at her. His blue eyes were so sad, broken…hopeful.

She saw how understanding registered. It slid over him, slowly falling into place. Like the world was shifting. Genma and Mizuki were fighting in earnest now somewhere behind her. He looked at her face, eyes coming to focus on her shoulder and the blood melting down her nice dress and the kunai lodged there. Then, he looked to Iruka, who was breathing through the pain.

The tears stopped and Naruto stood, drawing the scroll up with him.

Then, in a blink, he was in front of Mizuki, kicking him across the clearing.

Genma stopped short, settling back onto his haunches to watch. He flipped a holster on his hip open, hand poised to start throwing needles. Naruto shot him a look, raising his chin and adjusting his goggles.

"Yo. Let me take care of this joker."

Miho tried not to laugh, but the huffed snort jolted her shoulder and she grimaced. Iruka did the same, the surprised laugh making him wince.

"If you ever touch either one of them again, I'll kill you!"

Mizuki scoffed. "I could destroy you in a single move."

"Yeah? Try it! I'll take whatever you got and give it back a thousand-fold!"

It was like a dream, watching as Naruto raised both hands to cross two fingers over the other. She'd seen it before, from a different angle, from a different world. She hadn't done anything to stop it, nothing to actually help. Again. Like so many other things she could've affected, but didn't. Out of fear or… Thousands of Narutos burst into existence around them. Some were on the limbs of nearby trees; some were leaning on their trunks. All of them look pissed.

Genma appeared beside her, kneeling between Miho and Iruka. "Figure I'll leave the beatdown to him. C'mon, let's get you over here." He hauled Iruka back toward a nearby tree stump, angling the teacher so that his back was not scratching the bark. He hurried back to her side, hands fluttering at the kunai. "C'mon over here, little lady. Let's watch the show. We need to get that stabilized."

Miho reached up with her good arm and unwound the scarf from her neck. Her brother would understand. "Use this for Iruka-sensei. I'm fine and the kunai's keeping the blood in, right?"

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again while she looked back to where Naruto launched upon Mizuki like a— Well, like a maelstrom. The punches and kicks were so hard that there was a flurry of thuds, not unlike the drums from earlier. Miho watched in barely-concealed awe as Naruto fell upon Mizuki with a vengeance.

"Restraint's not really his thing." Miho said to no one, glancing back to Genma and Iruka as the former wrapped her scarf around her teacher's shoulders. "Iruka-sensei, are you okay?"

Her Academy teacher drew his eyes away from Naruto, the pride and adoration clear in them. That emotion hardened a bit when he saw the injury to her shoulder. And then it turned to solid rock when he realized who she was and where she was. "Akimichi Miho! What're you doing out here? You seriously put yourself in danger!" Naruto and his clones let out a few determined yells, pummeling Mizuki with renewed vigor.

"Naruto was in trouble." She shrugged, but then gritted her teeth. That was a stupid force of habit. She'd have to stop doing that for a while. "I'm not about to leave him to face something alone."

"Good." Genma nodded, settling back onto his haunches. The sun was beginning to rise. He looked at her. "You did good."

Everything was growing brighter. Miho wondered if it was symbolic, that sunshine. The sunlight. Like the dawn of a new story. Or a new chapter of an old one. A really old one. The significance wasn't lost on her. In a lot of ways, that sunrise was Naruto. He was sunshine, in so many ways.

"Stay like that. Damn it. No. Stop moving around Iruka, I swear—" Genma was fussing. Honest-to-goodness fussing. It was said with a sort of put-upon drawl, but it was fussing nonetheless. She adjusted her shoulder again, gritting her teeth as she watched. His attention turned to her and he narrowed his eyes. "Knock it off, Akimichi. Stopping moving your shoulder."

The clones disappeared from the clear in a collective puff of smoke, leaving Naruto standing over Mizuki's prone body. Miho felt no little satisfaction seeing the bloody mess of that jerk. Naruto stared at what remained, rubbing the back of his head. Sheepish. He actually looked sheepish.

"I guess I got a little carried away."

"A little," Miho nodded.

Naruto ran over, skidding to his knees in the grass. "You okay, Iruka-sensei? Miho?"

"Yeah." Iruka breathed, but the pain was evident. Naruto turned to her.

Miho batted Naruto's hand from near the kunai. He fretted with it, blue eyes darkened with concern. Like they always did when he was being serious. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Naruto, seriously…"

"But, Miho! You're hurt, too!"

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

"Are you serious? It's stuck in your arm! That's not a scratch!"

"It's a scratch!"

"Not a scratch!"

"Naruto." Iruka shifted forward. "C'mere a minute."

Naruto stopped fluttering at her shoulder, turning his attention to their teacher. Miho smiled, diverting her attention to the grass under her good hand. She knew what was coming and felt relief flood her entire body. It felt like an adrenaline high. Or perhaps she was coming off of an adrenaline high. Whatever it was, it felt good.

When she looked up again, Naruto had his eyes closed and Iruka had taken his forehead protector off. He shot her a grin, winking as he tied it around her friend's head. On the other side of them, Genma slipped a new senbon between his teeth, letting out a low appreciative whistle.

"You can open your eyes. Congratulations, Naruto. You've graduated."

Miho beamed.

She remembered— so, so long ago— watching that moment. It was clearer than many of the other images from the story. A teacher who made a positive difference. A teacher who saw the good in his student. Miho remembered…because it inspired her to be a similar kind of teacher, then and there. In her other life. She always saw the fight was a means to an end. It mattered less than this. That's why she didn't remember much of it.

But this?

This was the whole point.

"To celebrate, let's go out to ramen tonight. My treat!"

Naruto flew forward, throwing his arms around Iruka. Miho winced, knowing how painful that had to be with her teacher's injury. If he didn't have the scarf over his wound, the bark might've sunk into the hole in his back. Nevertheless, Iruka laughed and held Naruto close.

She hadn't changed anything. Not really.

Not in any way that mattered...

Maybe that was just how the story was meant to go?

"Beautiful scene, you two. You wanna invite us to ramen too or are we interlopers here?" Miho laughed, shaking her head in amazement. The guy was now leaning back against the tree, grinning down at the pair. He shot her a look, one that was actually a bit chastising. "My guess is that Akimichi there didn't bring any snacks with her. Which means breakfast is on me. Sage help my wallet. After we get the two of you to the hospital, of course. And that 'joker.'" He pushed off of the tree and walked over to the scroll, grabbing it from the forest floor and throwing it onto his back. If he happened to kick Mizuki in the face while he did so, then no one commented. "And, you know, we might want to return this. I've got a feelin' the Hokage might want it back."

He walked toward where Naruto was moving back from Iruka, setting the scroll down before him. Miho watched with no little amazement as he handed the scroll over to Naruto.

"I think you should return it, Naruto. Who knows, maybe the Hokage will let you learn another technique since you're such a quick study. Pullin' off that technique in less than two hours is dang impressive."

Naruto took it, eyes impossibly wide. Miho felt her breath catch.

Because this was Genma— whoever he really was, she didn't know, but she'd find out— saying something almost as meaningful as Iruka. He was acknowledging Naruto. Miho could barely draw in a breath. What—

"Help your friend, too, Naruto. I'll get Iruka. We'll take them to the hospital, okay? We'll leave the trash for ANBU."

He reached out and ruffled Naruto's wild blond hair, earning a slightly bemused beam from the boy.

Then, in the light of day, Naruto turned to her and smiled. Broadly, truly, and with as much love as she'd ever seen. Miho returned that grin, eyes closing from the fluff of her cheeks. For the first time in a long, long time, Miho had hope.

Hope that, just maybe, everything would really be okay.