"You're being a coward. And I don't want a coward on my team."

Ino crossed her arms and watched as Chōji shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Never once did he make eye contact with her. Never once did he look up from his hands, which shook and bled. There were shattered boulders around the training field, scattered like fallen leaves. She cut Shikamaru a look as her patience began to wear thin. Her patience was already threadbare. Her emotions had already endured the gamut. Miho was alive.

Miho was alive and…

Seeing what Miho saw… Seeing what that bastard cousin of hers did…What her friend endured…

Ino had to bite her tongue to keep from yelling.

When Ino had raised her hand, tears in her eyes— so that she could see, so that she could understand— Miho had recoiled.

Then, she'd apologized. Like it was her own damn fault.

Miho kept seeing it, all of it. Her mind was never at peace. Not just this life and the horrors that were coming and the horrors that had happened. Other lives, too. Other memories. Memories Ino had fabricated over the years. Her dreams as a little girl. Her nightmares. So many scenarios. Miho thought in stories and Ino tried to protect her with narratives. And now, Chōji had only made things worse. Miho's relationship with her family was already broken. Now, it was broken and bloody.

Chōji didn't get it.

Chōji didn't get it.

Chōji was being an idiot.

Chōji was really pissing her off.

"I let it go when you did it, Chōji. I kept that secret for years. Years. You kept it for months and it was somehow too heavy for you." She paused. "Guess that's what we get for thinking you were the strongest among us."

"Ino—"

She held a hand out, and Shikamaru stopped in his tracks. She met his eyes, trying to impress upon him how done she was with this idiocy. He shrugged his tense shoulders, but he didn't stop her. His silence was agreement. Shikamaru never abided by something he didn't agree with, even if it was troublesome.

"I didn't say anything because Miho forgave you then. Well, I'm done with it. You know what? You think she's different? You're scared because she's different? You're gonna run because she's different?"

Chōji still wouldn't look at her and Ino had enough. She threw herself forward, catching Chōji's arm to yank him forward as she threw his weight off-balance. She'd sparred with him and Miho enough to know that their weight could be used against them. He didn't even try to fight it.

Her teammate crashed into the dirt on his back, sending a dust cloud drifting over the otherwise empty training field.

"She is different, you idiot! She's never going to be the same! Why? Huh? Why do you think she's different? It sure isn't because she's so thin! Get over yourself!" Chōji started to push himself up, still keeping his eyes averted. Ino growled, pushing him down again and pressing her knee to his sternum. He wasn't wearing his armor. He left himself open for attack. She felt good when he winced.

"Ino—"

"Shut it, Shikamaru."

"I-I know."

"You-You know what?" Ino pressed her knee hard against his sternum, making sure that he was looking her in the eyes. "You ran. You ran away from her. Do you know how much she needed you? And you ran." Swallowing down the swell at the back of her throat, she gouged her knee down a bit more before stepping off and kicking dirt in his direction as she strode away. "She doesn't know what she's woken up to! Do you think anyone has told her about the sanctions? What do you think she'll think when she finds out, huh? Do you think you have any right to not be there for her? You're her brother."

Ino leaned her head back to keep the tears at bay. Because she was not a crier.

She was a fixer.

But there was no fixing this mess.

"I— I shouldn't be! I shouldn't be her brother! I didn't protect her from it. That's— That's why. I—"

"You ran because of your guilt." Shikamaru summarized. "Not because of her."

Ino had the tears under control again. She looked over to her teammate, who sat where he'd been thrown. She tried not to feel guilty herself. He looked horrible. A mess. Only part of that was her fault, but— once upon a time— she'd promised herself that she'd never bring her teammates down. Not like she did in the Images.

"That's your problem. Sort out your guilt by being there for her."

"Ino, what…did— What did you see?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. The last time she shared anything with Chōji, he'd betrayed her trust. "It's her business."

His fists tightened then loosened as he slowly stood up, looking over to her. Ino flinched, surprised at the expression on his face.

Every so often, Chōji surprised her. He was a calm, sweet, and caring person. He had almost insurmountable patience and a kind heart. Her father always said that Chōji was the kind of child that would not have been a shinobi if he had a choice in his lineage. Her father always said that with a bit of sadness. For all his kindness, Chōji would have to kill, and her father lamented that.

Her father never said the same of her.

Looking at him now, she could see the Akimichi Chōji that had punched his hand through another person's chest.

The one they had watched take down Jirobu.

"What did they do to her, Ino?"

Ino took a breath and swallowed. A cool wind struck the back of her neck and she shivered. "I put these traps in her head. Like what my family did to prisoners of war in the Third Great Shinobi War. I knew that someday someone would try to get into her mind without permission. It's like— layers of false memories and fake connections."

The Yamanaka Clan knew the mind better than anyone.

"Enemies could try to read the mind of the returned prisoner. All they would find would be useless."

Shikamaru looked endlessly bored and tired, but she could see the slightest uptick in his brow. Chōji stared, face carefully devoid of emotion. Her stomach turned because…she probably pushed him to this. She wondered if…

If the Chōji she saw in the Images so long ago would survive.

"Every time he tried to access her spiritual energy, through the tenketsu in her head, he was diverted. Like a trigger. No matter how many times he tried, he didn't get access. He kept getting thrown into the fake memories and realities I created in her mind."

Ino didn't know when she created the trap that it would do so much damage.

"He kept trying."

Miho'd been tortured with it. Ino saw. She saw when the fake memories became real memories. She saw when the fake futures became real futures. A tired, exhausted mind doesn't know fiction from reality. It'd been used for years, for decades, in interrogation techniques.

Ino saw when he started to use it against her.

To make her beg for it to stop.

To make her break.

"He used it against her."

All the false realities where they lost the war. All the false memories of other worlds. All the real memories of other worlds. All the real realities where they lost the war. He tapped into them, became them. Used them. Still, he could never get what he wanted.

Despite everything, Miho allowed Ino into her head. Shaking with fear, she still let Ino see her mind.

Despite what her kinsman did, she still trusted Ino without question.

Even more now than before.

No way in hell was Ino going to less than her best for Akimichi Miho.

"I'm gonna help her get it sorted." Because she had to fix it— whatever was fixable. She had to. Ino scowled, turning back to Chōji and Shikamaru. "Chōji, I know it's hard. You think you're not strong enough. And that you screwed up, which you did, but don't let it keep you from helping her. Because the moment you do is the moment you lose more than just Miho. Earn the right to call yourself her brother."

She looked to Shikamaru before turning away and making for the main property.

"Thank you. For what you did." Miho had smiled. The skin of her cheeks pulled at her mouth in a way she'd never seen. Her bony hands shook as she held Ino's hand up, palm open. "It's because of you that Danzō didn't get what he wanted. It's because you protected my mind like that. I— Just…Thank you, Ino." She settled her forehead into Ino's palm and closed her eyes.

Ino gritted her teeth and spun on her heel, stalking back to her teammates. She settled both shaking hands on her hips. Chōji didn't recoil from her pointing finger, but it was a near thing.

"And one more thing! If you ever betray her trust again, Akimichi Chōji, I swear to the kami in this world and all the other damn worlds out there that I will end you."

As she walked away, she heard Shikamaru's dull "troublesome."

To her though, it sounded a whole hell of a lot like "good job."

Genma didn't quite know how to explain it.

So, of course, he had Aoba do it for him.

Aoba, who sat in a chair between the two beds, shot him the dirtiest look he'd received in months. To be fair, he'd basically cornered the guy and then blackmailed him into this, which probably made Genma no better than the subjects being explained.

Genma lived in the gray area, so whatever.

Besides, Aoba was so much clearer with this kind of stuff. He got policies and politics. Genma didn't see the point.

"So, the sanctions are because my family blackmailed the Hokage?"

Genma crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, rolling his eyes when Aoba turned to him for the clarification. Traitor. "Yeah, kinda. Because your father blackmailed the village. The Clan Head Council. It's an upper-level secret…which means that everyone jōnin and up knows. I figured it best you knew sooner rather than later. Knowing the Akimichi, they'll keep you in the dark until it becomes important."

Tetsuya scoffed, but said nothing. He gave his student a curious look. The kid only shrugged. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a bandana over his head. A gift from Rock Lee— an obnoxiously familiar color of green.

An homage to Koji, Genma recognized. An homage to him. He never said anything about it.

"More like my father would." Miho drew herself up and he could see a ghost of her former self there when she rolled her shoulders back so that her posture was better. Her color was returning slowly. Her hair was shinier and her eyes brighter and her birthmarks had more contrast. "He could've sparked a civil war."

"Yeah." Aoba nodded. "He could've."

Genma could see the wheels turning in Miho's head and he wanted to get ahead of it. He knew where her thoughts were going. The Uchiha. "The Akimichi are going to need to repair their relationship with the village. There's a lot of distrust now. Especially if one clan can starve the entire village. It pointed out a weakness in our systems and lack of oversight."

Even as he said it, Genma felt sick.

The Akimichi undermined the entire system and threatened civilians in the middle of it all. The Hokage's sanctions were the only way to bring the Akimichi to heel while appeasing the Clan Council.

Even if most of the Clan Heads understood the action, there was no way they could support it. Only the Nara and the Yamanaka stood with the Akimichi. Even that was grudging.

"I bet my grandmother is after their heads."

Miho's head jerked around to stare at Tetsuya, who focused on his feet.

"That's why it's top secret. If word of the Akimichi Affair got out to the civilians, it would be chaos. The Akimichi are the main food suppliers for the village. If the civilians can't trust where their next meal is coming from, then they'll distrust the whole damn system." Tetsuya looked to Miho, an apologetic tilt to his expression. "The sanctions are a way of forcing the Akimichi back in line. Enough that the council feels they will not stray again. Scaring them into submission." His look turned thoughtful. "The Council— Elder or otherwise— wouldn't want this getting out. It shows a lack of centralized power. It shows weakness. This won't get out."

Genma had to applaud Tetsuya's insight. His grandmother may have been one scary kunoichi, but she was an even scarier politician. She'd raised her grandson to think in terms of politics as well, even if he hated the reality of it. Genma caught Aoba's eye and raised his brows. Smart kid, huh? Aoba shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. His grandmother was a fool to train him in politics and then abandon him as she had.

"An increased tax on Akimichi imports and exports…Of course the Daimyo would agree."

"My family has a good relationship with the Daimyo." Miho's voice was level, but that was only a performance. Genma could tell she was shaken by the way her fingers gripped the blanket.

"The higher the tax on Akimichi imports and exports, paid by the Akimichi, the lower the amount of funding that is needed from Fire Country." Aoba explained, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Until the sanctions are rescinded, a majority of Akimichi monetary support comes from missions…unless they start digging into savings."

"Which makes the Akimichi subservient to the whims of the village." Tetsuya sighed, shrugging his shoulders. The kid brought up both knees and rested his arms on them.

It was the most "normal" he'd looked since the trap that nearly killed him.

Genma might've felt like crying.

"The increased taxes make the Akimichi less independent."

Genma had to applaud and he did just that, pointing at Tetsuya. "You're good at this." Tetsuya frowned, obviously not taking it as a compliment. "Look, if your grandmother is the third best politician in Konoha, you better have learned something. Miho, thoughts?" Miho jerked as if struck, raising her head.

"I don't— I don't have thoughts. There's nothing I can do about this. Father made a decision. That decision has consequences. He did it to try and find me. I appreciate— I appreciate that."

Genma noticed that she was clinical when she said it and he nodded in reassurance. "You're not indebted to him or the Akimichi for this. And you shouldn't be. Chōza elected to do this. It will have an impact on you regardless. You are an Akimichi, after all." Miho nodded, brows pulling together. "This is not the same situation as the Uchiha."

She obviously stopped breathing at that, turning to stare at him. "Is…Is it not?"

Aoba shook his head. "It's not the same."

Miho didn't look entirely convinced, lowering her head to stare at the blanket. The blanket that Naruto had brought from his apartment with a bright grin on his face that morning. It was an ugly orange old thing, but Miho had damn near cried.

A knock on the door drew his attention away from Miho's contemplative look and Tetsuya's still-irritated expression. Aoba was the one that called for the visitor to enter, moving from where he straddled the chair. The door opened wide and Genma had to choke down his shocked gasp as the senbon dangled between his lips. He quickly scrambled to assemble his unaffected mask, glaring at Aoba when he stifled a laugh.

He was a skilled assassin and he did not gasp when make-up-wearing foreigners showed up at his team's hospital room bearing a small green bag with a freakin' pink bow.

Subtly, Genma sent Aoba a rude gesture as the kid stepped further inside.

Kankurō sure was trying to sell that he didn't feel out of place. He had the confidence, but definitely not the execution. Considering the way his attention kept flying to Genma and Tetsuya and Aoba— and decidedly not at Miho— he didn't know there would be others in the room. Kid was trying so hard to keep that Cool Mask on and he was failing beautifully.

Miho took mercy on him.

Because of course she did.

"Kankurō, what are you doing in Konoha?" She shifted herself up in bed, that damn vest seeming to swallow her whole. Genma watched, with no small amount of amusement, as the Suna shinobi looked her over with a mixture of concealed worry and, (Genma decoded), rage. Her eyes shifted to the bag. "Why do you have cookies?"

"How'd'ya know they're cookies?"

"Smell."

"Joint mission." The kid slid right past her answer before nodding in Tetsuya's direction. "Utatane."

"Sup? You bring cookies on all your joint missions?"

Genma snorted, but tried to hide it in a cough for the Poor Painted Kid's sake. The puppeteer shot him a scathing look, which might've been kinda impressive if it weren't for the paint. And the whole Embarrassed and Uncomfortable Teenager Routine.

Aoba had way more mercy than Genma, stepping forward to offer the kid a chair.

"Nah, thanks. I'm not staying that long." Kankurō's attention turned back to Miho. "They sure messed you up, didn't they?"

Sensing Tetsuya's hackles rising, Genma watched Miho's expression. She didn't seem in the slightest bit bothered. She almost seemed comfortable, shrugging her shoulders in agreement. To a certain degree, this was probably because of the Images, she knew him in a way. That didn't justify his visit and then….Miho smiled at him.

This was rapport.

They had a rapport.

What in the hell?

Aoba! What the hell is going on? He saw Aoba flinch at his mental yell. His friend glared. The sunglasses covered it, but Genma could sense the heat.

"Does Gaara still want to kill me? I'm easy pickings at the moment."

"Chubs, what?"

Something— like disbelief— flashed over the puppeteer's face before he scoffed and tossed her the bag from less than a foot away, standing almost directly over her. Miho's hand shot up to grab it. Genma withheld a surprised snort. The guy was seriously checking her dexterity and reaction times like that?

"Why not just ask her how she's feeling, huh?" Tetsuya's voice was dry. Obviously, he saw the test for what it was as well. Genma valiantly kept himself from laughing at how casually Tetsuya picked up the kunai from the bedside table, inspecting it idly. Like it wasn't a threat.

Damn it, his kids were so cute.

"Literally no one here cares if you talk like an actual human being."

"You were right. The Aburame won."

What?

"Told you."

What?

"I'll beat him next time."

Miho nodded easily, agreeing with a foreign shinobi that he would beat her own countryman. She quirked her head a bit and made a waffling sign with her hand. "Maybe." Kankurō grinned. That was enough of that. Genma repositioned his senbon and took a step forward, drawing the attention of the two.

"Not to interrupt this moment that you two are having, but… Miho has physical therapy in five minutes."

Kankurō nodded, holding both hands up as he stepped away. Genma tried to fend off the urge to toss the kid from the window. Aoba was practically giggling as he leaned against the wall by said window. Maybe Genma was toss him out of it, too. He was good for nothing anyway. "Next time— when you're recovered—we can spar."

Miho met the kid's eyes. "Sure." She pursed her lips. "Maybe next time, I can make it out to Suna. And meet Gaara when he's not trying to kill me."

The Suna puppeteer nodded to Tetsuya, who gave a sarcastic, jaunty little wave back with his kunai in hand.

"Enjoy the cookies."

Tetsuya gasped as the door shut, turning to Miho with a scandalized expression, hand to his heart. "He brought you cookies? Cookies? Are you serious?" Miho laughed, reaching over to grab the bag from her bedside table, which was amass with knickknacks just as obnoxious as Tetsuya's stack of trinkets. "Okay. What the hell?"

Genma cringed, watching Miho pull a small cookie from the little green bag.

The damn cookie was shaped like a bear.

Damn it.

"No more cookies from foreign shinobi, Miho."

Miho snorted, shaking her head. She grinned, probably the brightest grin he'd seen since Naruto delivered the blanket and spent an hour regaling Team Five with tales of his recent exploits. A little bit of the apprehension he felt faded away. Maybe the Paint-Faced Brat did okay. "Good luck stopping him, Genma-sensei."

Aoba barked a laugh, covering his face with his hands.

"Excuse me?"

"Whaddya mean 'good luck stopping him'?"

Genma tried to ignore the memories of an older puppeteer, heading up a support division and defeating a reincarnated member of the Akatsuki. If the kid did hone his craft over the years…Genma rolled the senbon between his lips and narrowed his eyes as Miho chomped down on the cookie.

The first solid food she'd eaten since her captivity.

She was probably right, Genma wouldn't stand a chance.

"Miho."

She turned onto her side, eyes focusing on Tetsuya's face in the dim light. The scars were cast in relief from the lighting behind the beds. She was getting better at ignoring them. Tetsuya was turned onto his side as well, pillow stuffed in his arms. His cheeks were puffy from the odd angle of his head against the pillow. Her own cheeks would be puffy too, if she still had her weight.

"You let Ino see what happened."

She nodded. She wasn't sure why his voice was so quiet, but she answered quietly in return. "I wanted her to see. She needed to see."

He was quiet for a long moment, a contemplative silence. "I'm not goin' back to the Utatane Estate. I…I asked Hayate-sensei and Genma-sensei what they thought." Miho watched the conflict that spread over his face as his eyes tracked away. "Hayate-sensei is gonna help me find an apartment. With two bedrooms."

Miho shifted, holding the pillow tighter.

Her mother had visited that afternoon, looking a bit more harried than usual. She lacked her usual orange eyeliner and lipstick. She delivered food, a whole basket of her favorite baked goods. Now that she'd been taken off the soft foods diet, she could start reintroducing food and gaining her weight back. Her mother had patted her hand, a softness to her eyes that made Miho reach out her arms.

"Chōji just needs time, sweet bun. He'll come around."

Miho knew her mother was right.

She knew her mother just wanted her family back together again.

But Miho wasn't entirely sure she could give her mother that. Akimichi Aiko was not a fool. "Mama…"

"So long ago, sweetheart, I realized something was different. I will say the same now as what I said then: It's okay not to be okay." Her mother's warm hands had held either side of her face. She remembered when her cheeks were plump enough to squish into her eyes. They didn't. She was too thin. It was always uncomfortable. "One day, I hope that you and your father and your brother can…overcome…what happened between you. Until then, I won't…I won't force you. It wouldn't mean anything if I did."

Could she really do this to her mother? Leave the Akimichi Estate? Leave her home? Her gut said she could. She could leave, settle in with Tetsuya in some apartment, gain her weight back and train. She could get ready for what was coming. She could do it and…and she wouldn't have any regrets.

"I— I— I don't want to go home, Mama."

Her mother had stared and then, with tears in her eyes, she'd nodded. She could only imagine the heartbreak she just caused. "No…" Miho had flinched. "No mother wants to hear her baby is moving out." Sitting back, the woman blinked back her tears and nodded. "But a mother always wants what's best for her children."

Something like determination lit her mother's eyes and she could see it there. The desperation to make something good out of something bad.

Her mother was a baker.

She made sweet things out of nothing all day, every day.

"I have an idea, sweet bun."

"Tetsuya… What if we…Tetsuya, what if we got a house?"

"A little out of my price range, Chubs. We're genin, remember?"

Miho pushed herself up, looking at him in the dimness. She felt a stir of excitement for the first time since— "Two more roommates, Tetsuya. You think we all could cover a house payment?" She watched Tetsuya sit up, staring at her as if she'd grown another head. If this was what she did, then she could do it. She could move out and not regret it. "You and me and Naruto and Sasuke."

"I get Naruto. It's kinda a given in this plan, but Sasuke? Seriously? I expected Lee." His mouth screwed up and then it seemed to hit him. "Miho, he's got his family home. He won't leave that. If he does, it won't be to live with us and Naruto."

The undercurrent of Tetsuya's words was clear.

He thought Sasuke would still leave the village.

"He's alone. He could not be alone."

Tetsuya's mouth opened and shut, eyes becoming sadder. "Miho…He's—"

"He's not gone. He should be gone and he's not. Tetsuya, we can— We can try this. We can try. Ask. If he doesn't take it, then at least we offered. At least he had the option. An option when Orochimaru didn't even give him that. Agency does a lot for a person." Miho held Tetsuya's stare, willing him to understand.

"Yeah? What happens when he finds out what happened, huh? You really think he's gonna stick with this village then? Agency won't mean jack to him then."

Miho swallowed roughly, the excitement fading.

Tetsuya pulled the covers from over his legs, lowering one leg to the floor and then the other. The twist of his skin with the scars caught the dim light in reliefs and shadows. He moved across the space between the two beds. Miho moved over automatically, holding the blanket up for him. He laid down next to her, staring up at the ceiling with her in silence. His left hand held her right.

"He has every right to hate the village. He has every right to want revenge." Tetsuya's voice was a whisper. "The last time he loved people, they were killed in a massacre. It's not that easy…" He squeezed her hand, sighing. They lay in silence for a long time, just staring at the darkness.

Sasuke was still in the village. He wasn't quite the same as he had been before. When Miho saw him in Naruto's room, she could sense it. Something seemed off. Something was off. There was something in his eyes. Like his mind was a constantly spinning coin and the world was waiting to see what side landed face up.

Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.

Sasuke wasn't beholden to the whims of the stupid "Curse of Hatred." That was what Senju Tobirama called it, right? No, Miho gripped Tetsuya's hand a bit tighter, Sasuke lost his whole clan. He lost his brother, who massacred his family. The eldest to the youngest. His brother destroyed his mind again through Tsukuyomi.

Even with what she went through...there was no way she could understand. She saw nightmares that never happened. She saw nightmares that did. Her torturer wasn't her own brother.

He was traumatized and grieving and hurting. Miho sighed.

"Genma-sensei wasn't kidding when he said you were in some deep shit."

Miho huffed a laugh, but it sounded a bit wet. She turned her head away, looking toward the light filtering in from under the door. The Akimichi guard had finally been withdrawn by Elder Torifu. That guard was needed for missions, Miho realized. Elder Torifu hadn't explained the sanctions to her when he visited to reassign the guard. Her master just patted her head and sat a pack of protein shakes on the bedside table.

Her father blackmailed the village.

Uchiha Fugaku almost coup'ed the village.

If Danzō were still alive, could her family have suffered a similar fate?

Yes.

Yes, they could have.

They could have been slaughtered. "The Akimichi Downfall," they would have called it. Her mother and father, the Elders, her cousins, her new baby cousin. All of them, dead. Her father blackmailed the village. To stop a civil war, the village would slaughter them like the livestock they raised.

And she was leaving them.

Shivering, she shifted.

"A-A three-bedroom apartment at least?"

"Sure, Chubs. Sure."

A/N: Thank you everyone for your kind words! I sincerely enjoyed writing this chapter. We're a few chapters away from a time-skip!

Thank you all for your reviews, follows, and favorites! They all light up my day! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm excited for where things go from here! Please leave me your thoughts.