Published: 12/23/2018

Edited: 3/22/2019

Warning: references to graphic violence. Readers should probably expect that of this story by now, but I've received unhappy commentary before, so consider yourselves duly cautioned.


"Eh?" I stared blankly at my foster mother.

"How was your day today?" she repeated. "Did you find what you were looking for at the store? And did the fitting go well?"

"Oh, I—" I waved a hand and opened my mouth to begin a blasé recount of the day's mundanities, but then I stopped. And then I shut my mouth and sat back on my legs, frowning.

I couldn't remember. Certainly I had gone to a specialty store today to find chakra conductive wire. And, thinking carefully, I also must have gone to get my child-sized chuunin vest upgraded to a slightly larger size, because right now it was gone and not hanging in its customary spot. Just to check myself, I idly slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out a receipt. Yes, I had done these tasks today. But the contents of those activities were absent to me. I couldn't recall a thing about the trip to the store or the time while I was being fitted.

"Suzu?" Auntie Reiko said my name again, eyebrows beginning to rise. I furrowed my brow openly and spent a long moment trying to recollect the day's happenings, but my mind seemed to fog over. And then, after another moment of trying, I suddenly felt like it didn't matter if I remembered or not. I looked at her and then made a sheepish face.

"Sorry, I got distracted," I said. "I was fine today. Kind of busy—seems like a big blur… but everything that needed to get done got done, so I can't complain."

It was strange how easily such a convincing deflection broke forth from me, but as Auntie sat back and made a noise of understanding, I realized that I had been trained to deflect like that. It had been in my conversation practice with Oyuki—taking a kernel of truth and spinning it into a substantive reply, not lying and not necessarily deceiving, but still obscuring certain details. Everything out of my mouth just now had been true, after all. I had been distracted. It had been busy. And the day really was a big blur—big enough that I couldn't remember it. But my purchases had been made and my vest was out of the house so my goals had been accomplished. And if that was the case there wasn't anything to complain about, at least as far as the day's task list was concerned. My sudden patchy recall was another matter, but Auntie hadn't asked about that—she'd only asked about my day.

Feeling somewhat buoyed by the fact that I had managed to dodge her questions without having to lie, I cheered up that evening and spent a pleasant time catching up with my cousins. The stars had aligned and produced a miraculous evening in which every single one of my agemates was home early, so the four of us—plus the slightly older Tenrou and Nodoka, who brought us to six—sat down together on the floor and began swapping catch-up stories. The girls eventually found their way into a hair-braiding train, and the boys shrugged and began giving one other unnecessarily forceful shoulder massages. I had gained a lot of expertise in hairdressing so I found myself at the end of the line.

"And then Tenrou sprang up and cut off his arm," Nodoka finished with a sweeping gesture. She and Tenrou were the rare case of two clanmates who had managed to find their way onto the same genin team and then promote at the same time into a chuunin squad. She was a genjutsu-type and he was a kenjutsu specialist; they had been together for their entire ninja careers and had not yet managed to lose one another, which sent a surprisingly acute bolt of envy lancing through my heart.

"Wow, Tenrou-nii," Jinta said admiringly. Though Tenrou was only thirteen and still a baby to the older shinobi on his eight-man chuunin squad, he seemed to puff up into a proper man when a younger brother looked up at him. Tenrou cleared his throat and sat back with a look of pride. Nodoka began to chortle.

Among the six of us I was the only other chuunin. Akira, Chiharu, and Jinta were still genin, as they ought to have been. Akira had lost one of his teammates, but they'd filled the spot at the beginning of the same rotation that had put me with Team 7. Chiharu and Jinta still had their original teams intact.

"How are things with you, Suzu? Aren't you on Minato-nii's team?" I was regarded with several wistful looks. Minato's popularity among House children was unassailable even now.

"Oh, it's…" I made a vague motion with my hand. "It's… busy. We've been running a lot of short-term missions outside the village, and honestly I don't even see Minato-nii much on those assignments because we always end up splitting the team. But apparently that's normal when you have two jounin in a platoon."

"Aw, what is with that?" Jinta complained on my behalf. "On a team with niichan but not even being able to see him? That's the worst."

My feelings in response to that were mixed so I was silent for some time. After a moment my foster siblings went quiet, too, because in the end they were my family and they knew me. They weren't oblivious to the fact that things weren't well on Team 7. They didn't know the details, of course, but they still knew.

But after a while Akira spoke up about his last mission and conversation was flowing again. I shot him a grateful look and he smiled shyly in reply.

"All right, kids, that's probably enough for now," Auntie commented as she came through from the kitchen an hour or so later. Startled, we looked to the clock and found that it was nearly eleven thirty. For children who often had to rise by five AM, this was horrible news, and we all began scrambling to get upstairs and seize as many minutes of sleep as were left in the night. I was privately shocked that Auntie had let it go on so long.

But mothers know the needs of their children. Even if I had pulled off a deflection that would have made Oyuki proud, Auntie Reiko could tell I was craving for positive interaction; the support I was used to having on Team 11, after all, was nowhere to be found in the current Team 7. Though Kakashi had not attacked me since the disastrous team training session, he was making no effort to play nice—and as it so happened, he had very venomous wit. I had never considered myself as particularly self-loathing by nature, but somehow it seemed that his lack of regard for me was becoming a kind of lack of regard for myself. These days it was hard to even catch sight of myself and not experience a significant sensation of anticipatory scorn. The worst of everything, though, was the fact that I was feeling more and more that I deserved to live like this.

There was a flurry of clothes-changing and teeth-brushing. In record time the six of us were back in the hall and wishing one another good night. Nodoka and Tenrou exchanged an absentminded fistbump and Jinta slung a sleepy arm around Akira's shoulder. Then the boys departed for their bedroom, and we for ours. We went without knowing when we would have the chance to spend such an evening together again, if we ever did at all.


My strange forgetfulness seemed to recur rather than to cease. It occurred to me that something was wrong and that a conversation with Hayato-sensei was becoming more and more warranted, but the more I thought of it the less I wanted it to happen. If some terrible psychotic diagnosis came out, all the manner of unhappy and unpleasant things would happen. I did not need that kind of stress right now. Auntie and Uncle certainly didn't either—and heaven forbid Team 7's mission capacity be affected by it. Just imagining Kakashi's reaction was enough to be a trauma all in its own. I was thoroughly convinced that things on the team would be much better if I just kept a lid on it.

(Of course, that particular piece of rationalisation worked out as well for me as it did for any shinobi evading medical attention.)

"Suzu!" Minato gasped as my concentration broke and I plummeted into the waters of the lake. Luckily it had not yet cooled overmuch, so there was no great shock of cold, but the moment water rushed over me was so surreal that I was unable to do anything but stare blankly through the rush of air and bubbles. Minato had to plunge his arm in to the shoulder to pull me up out of the depths.

"Are you okay?" he asked as I restabilized my chakra and began hacking out great globs of lakewater. My eyes began to stream with the violence of my coughing, but after a moment I was gathered enough to nod my head.

Minato sat back on his haunches with a sigh of relief. And then his face melted again into concern, eyebrows pulling forward and lips turning downward.

"You're not okay."

Confused but still too out of breath to talk, I looked down at myself and began running my hands over my limbs to check for any missed injuries. Minato shook his head.

"That's not what I mean. Why didn't you answer the summons? I sent the hawk out nearly twenty minutes ago."

"What?" I managed to croak. I turned my head upwards when he pointed and the sight of a brown messenger hawk circling in the sky met my eyes. It flew its pattern, screeched, and then flew its pattern again. Orders: gather. General Forces: general platoon. Call: Team 7. Location: main gates.

"Oh my gosh." I put a disbelieving hand on my forehead and then dragged it down my dripping face. Small mercy I hadn't tried to do makeup things today. Some distant part of me registered that the shit I had just landed in would have been just that much worse with cosmetics bleeding down my face.

"Was Kakashi really that bad yesterday?" Minato's face was concerned. "Rin told me a bit about it, but…"

"Yesterday?" I asked dumbly. As was not unusual, a blank came up when I checked my memory. There had been independent team training or something. By logic Kakashi would have been there, but had something gone on?

If possible Minato's face increased in worry. "Don't worry about the summons for now. I think I need to take you in," he said, gently taking my elbow. Any stupor I had been in immediately dissipated at those words.

"No, don't," I said, shaking him off and standing up. "Absolutely don't. Let's hurry before they have to wait any longer."

"But you can't go out for a mission like this. Just look at you."

I looked at myself. My reflection in the water was slightly disrupted by ripples, but it was still a clear image: I looked like a drowned cat. There were laughably dark circles under my eyes. I didn't look like the sort of kunoichi ready go on a mission at all.

And then I felt so angry and fed up that chakra I didn't know I could muster was swirling in my hands. A Great Breakthrough burst up around me, pushing up and outwards, and water flew away from us like a whirling waterspout. Minato lifted a hand to shield his face from the spray. When everything had settled down my clothes and hair had mostly dried, though some dampness remained in my shoes and under my vest. Minato sighed in resignation.

"You shouldn't have expended that much chakra." He shook his head and turned back towards the shore. "This mission will be intensive. Much more so than anything we've done in these past weeks."

"Then it's just as well we leave now," I muttered, turning my face away. "Is it extended time? I need to grab my kit."

"No need." He tossed a scroll my way. "I got it for you."

As we made our way out from the trees and began hopping across rooftops towards the gates, I unsealed my pack and slung it over my shoulders. Minato kept half an eye on me as I went, possibly to catch me in case I had another sudden chakra failure and fell off a building. Abruptly I felt like even more of a failure as a shinobi than ever.

"Where the hell have you been?" Kakashi rounded on me the moment we arrived. Too ashamed to even speak, I just sunk into the deepest, lowest bow I could make, and stayed there.

"Leave it, Kakashi." Minato held up a hand. His brother-face was beginning to melt and give way to his commander-face. "I'll deal with her after the mission is over. Focus on yourself right now. Are we ready?"

He received nods from the two other gathered squads. Realizing that I had held up a mission twelve of whole people made me want to wilt more completely than I had ever wanted to wilt before. Considering how many withering stares I had received from Kakashi in the last week alone, that was saying something.

There was minimal delay before we checked out at the gate and departed for the trees. Rin fell into step with me as we began leaping through the branches and brought me up to speed on everything I had missed in the mission briefing. Team 7, one of the few remaining units with a jounin pair, had been selected to lead a special task force behind Iwa lines to strike what the village hoped to be one of the final blows against Hidden Rock. Under their joint command, we were intended to group with two squads from the Ordnance Corps and take out one one of their major bases on the Iwa-Kusa border. It was a stronghold preventing our forces from advancing into Earth Country territory, and disabling their operations would be crucial if we hoped to finally end the Third Shinobi World War.

I considered that itinerary briefly before coming to the conclusion that absolutely nothing in it corresponded with my skill set. Minato and Kakashi, obviously, were the commanders, so that made them indispensable. Likewise, the Ordnance Corps teams were necessarily masters of sabotage and destruction. But with large-scale disruption in mind, Rin and I had no application whatsoever. Unlike me, however, Rin was a medic, and there were always uses for medics; no ninja who worked with explosives would ever object to keeping an iryou-nin nearby. In contrast, I mostly knew how to make clothes, put on accents, and giggle convincingly at strangers.

It was no wonder Kakashi was aiming his worst look at me right now. If the critical mission I was commanding were held up that long by literal dead weight, I would be angry, too.


I was fighting for my life three hours after we arrived at the border.

The plan had been fairly simple: one squad would distract while the other attacked. We split the teams evenly, six and six, but since Minato was an army all on his own, it was decided that his group would be the one to actually go in and storm the castle. That left Kakashi's group to run about the perimeter and make as much noise as possible, ideally by blowing up everything in sight. I suspected that Minato would have preferred to place me in his squad, but he was in the assailing party and the bleeding need for medical ninjutsu was too egregious to excuse placing Rin with Kakashi. The diversion team, after all, would be able to fall back on guerilla tactics, and anyway would be far too scattered to make use of Rin's talents effectively. There was no choice but to leave me behind.

Predictably, I was immediately banished to scouting duty. While the Ordnance Corps team busied themselves by gathering their explosives and plotting which bomb ought to be used where, I got ready to locate enemy outposts. The rule was to always go in pairs, but Kakashi did not look at all inclined to accompany me, so I just put my radio on and slinked away miserably. About twenty minutes passed while I trudged on in silence, vaguely tense, as I searched for signs of the enemy.

Then I found them. The twang of shinobi chakra was unmistakable in my ear. I wasted no time in diving into the bush. For good measure, I also threw on every single stealth technique I had learned while in I&E.

I held my breath and began furiously straining my sensory ear. A sickeningly familiar melody rang out at me, one that I hadn't heard since the caravan had fallen into Death Valley over a year ago. It was foreign music in a strange key—the key of Rock shinobi, rich and resonant. The texture of their ensemble was beautiful in a way that made me shudder with trepidation. Sound that clear and defined meant only one thing: this was a group skilled ninja. All of them had to be mid-chuunin at the least.

I chewed on my lip and held quite still, hoping they would continue on, but for some reason they stopped and began milling about in the trees. Several minutes passed as I huddled in the foliage, praying desperately they would pass me by. But they lingered, and I began to sweat.

I never should have left the camp on my own, I thought bitterly. It would have made Kakashi angry, but I should have insisted he come with me. Then I wouldn't be alone now, and we could have relied on a jounin's knowledge to escape.

Eventually my nerves frayed to the point where I felt I had no choice but to call for help. Speaking as audibly as I dared, I uttered into my mic, "Enemy spotted. Very large in number, upwards of thirty. They've stopped movement for some reason and I can't get back to you. Location is—"

Before I could finish my thought, there was a hand ripping the wire from my ear. I froze in horror as the red-clad kunoichi straightened up beside me. She examined the little radio, turning it this way and that. Then she held it up to her own lips.

"Location is none of your business."

And then she crushed it between her fingers.

"I knew I had heard something," she told me, lips curling amusedly as she dropped the remains into the dirt and idly ground the rest of it with her heel. "So this is where you were hiding. I thought you would be older—most scouts don't disappear half as well as you did."

I swallowed, slowly rising from my crouch, and heard blood begin to rush in my ears. My hands were shaking.

"But then again, if you were older, you would have known better than to start talking. Panicked a little, eh? Pity. You nearly waited us out. My commander was already boxing my ears for stopping us for nothing."

One half of my brain was already well into a routine of panic and wailing, but the other half began scrambling desperately to construct a way out. I had to get out of here now, right now, at this instant. Her group was behind us—I needed to go into the open space ahead. But could I outrun them? How far were they spread out? Spread out enough to flank me? My spine absolutely crawled at the prospect. Oh, if they flanked me, it was over. I couldn't fight my way through all of that.

Talking, she was still talking—why? She wanted me alive, clearly, probably to question. I shuddered convulsively as I remembered the lightless look in Itsuki-sensei's eyes. No, I couldn't let that happen. If they broke Itsuki-sensei, a seasoned shinobi and mentor, they would break me just as well. It would be better to slit my own throat than to give up information and go through all that again.

I swallowed once more, fearfully, and twitched my fingers towards my holster. It was a valid move. Here, right now, suicide was a real tactic. Considering their numbers against my skill, it was possibly even the best tactic. That was a ninja's way: to die rather than be captured. And after all, I was not mission-critical personnel. The operation could proceed without me. I was only dead weight.

In that instant I felt like I was suspended, standing one inch removed from reality. I felt like I was standing on a threshold I had stood on many times before. There had been so many close calls already; I had dodged death so many times; so was it time to die now? Was today the day life ended?

For a moment I thought it was. For a moment I was resigned to it. I was relieved for it, even, because to be dead meant to be done carrying the weight of Kannabi Bridge forever. To be done carrying Kakashi's burning glares, Rin's forced smiles, Minato's faraway stares…

But then the kunoichi's red sleeve flashed out and my world tilted just a little to the right. As her hand reached out for my hair—grasping, grasping, a hand grasping for my hair—ear-splitting words echoed in my head: "Yoshiya died for nothing."

Wire exploded. There was a blast of wind chakra and a spray of blood. Then I kicked a shower of dirt and leaves up from the ground, threw out four different bunshin in an attempt to cover myself, and made a desperate break for freedom.

The run was short and hysterical and I was boxed in before I had a chance to even make for the treetops, so I flipped around and began fighting like a rabid animal instead. Jiraiya's improvements to the Strings of Fate jutsu proved to be quite deadly, but I found I did not have time to stop and consider that every twist of chakra—every lost limb and severed head—was violence against another human being. I only had time to stay alive. To duck, to dodge, to wonder when the stream of enemy ninja would end—to despair of victory—to gasp through frenzied sobs and pull away screaming from the grasping hands—

"Whoa!" the Ordnance Corps tokujou jerked back, unnerved. I stumbled away from him, clutched at a burning stitch in my side, and cried wildly.

"Don't touch me, don't touch me," I repeated, looking about and seeing Hatsuta's shadow everywhere. "Never touch me again! Stay away!"

It took several moments to come back to the present, but eventually the hysteric fear of torture separated itself from my vision. When it did, I saw that a sea of shredded Iwa shinobi was spread out around me. I looked out over them, gasping and trembling violently, before my eyes finally came to a stop on Kakashi, who had dropped down from a tree to gape at the carnage. I wondered if he would have some awful remark to make about scouts who couldn't keep cover, but in the end, he only stared.

Then my knees began to feel rather weak, so I sat down.


Having contributed quite well indeed to the diversion, I was sent along back to camp while Kakashi and the others went to plant their bombs. I had hardly an ounce of chakra left in me, so I jumped straight into the nearby river instead of blasting myself with a cleaning water jutsu. Then I threw my gory clothes into the fire and stood quivering in my underwear as I dug about in my pack for a spare outfit. When I found it, I changed. Then I tossed out my bedroll and lay down.

That was how Kakashi and the rest of the team found me when they returned: lying down, back to the fire. I was too tired to even roll over to look at them, so I didn't. In return, they mostly ignored me, which was honestly just as well. I didn't feel right enough to talk. Not when my brain was swimming full of hot sun, of broken ribs, of Akihiko and Hayanari, of Itsuki-sensei—

I abruptly found myself aching for him. All of a sudden I wanted Sensei more than I wanted anyone. More than Minato, more than Auntie, more than Uncle... I wanted his thoughtful looks, his cool advice, and his clever smiles. If Sensei were here, he would know exactly what to say. He would have been able to talk to me about Hatsuta. He would have been able to tell me it had been right to fight instead of die.

Had it been right to fight instead of die? An entire contingent of shinobi had been eliminated tonight because I had refused to die. Were thirty grown men and women a fair trade for the life of a single stupid little girl? A little girl who should have known how to shut up and keep her cover?

"Sensei," I mumbled tearfully, hurting for sound of his voice. "Sensei..."


A/N: I changed the title. It's better now.

I meant to get to Rin's kidnapping in this chapter, but the drama of the fight scene expanded until it filled all of the space. Then again, this is a Genre 1 Drama story, so I assume that's exactly what you all came for.

As with the last chapter, digging through the source material (that is, the previous draft) for this chapter was extremely painful. So much melodrama. Very bad writing—no show, all tell, very poor continuity. Once HSS catches up to where Glory stopped, I might really nuke it.

Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas.

Cheers,

Eiruiel