Contrary to popular belief, the biggest gossip in Konoha was not Aoba or even Shiranui Genma. It was Morino Ibiki and for a good reason.

People who dealt professionally in information had a firm grasp of the village rumor mill. It was the best way to pick apart information and spread whatever, malicious or otherwise, rumor that needed to be spread. Sometimes, it was beneficial for the facts to be shifted. Just a little. Like how Wind Daimyo had at least three (only one at last count) mistresses squirreled away in the Land of Rivers and one of them had produced an heir in all but name.

Or how A, the Fourth Raikage had been married more than 25 years but had yet to produce issue. Kumo was one of those strange villages that observed the rights of primogeniture. Not that she, in Konoha where the Hokage's hat was handed to those of Senju allegiance, had room to talk. After all, the truth was in the eye of the beholder and rumors were just that—rumors.

Rin was strip-searched in front of no less than five ninja of varying ranks, none higher than tokujo and none lower than chunin. There was no courtesy of privacy extended to her. Not for a chunin who had unofficially gone missing for ten years. Not for a jounin with no name, only the goodwill of the Hokage. But even the Hokage couldn't overrule Konoha's Intelligence division.

The entire building was windowless and filled with smoke—not unlike a bath house. Even with new technology, there was no surer way to destroy messages than with fire. It was said that Konoha Intelligence Divisions did not use waste bins. Ashes were used to darken watery ink. Employees were required to have bladders of steel because the building did not have toilets either. Their lone faucet was in the torture chambers where it was used to wash off blood and other fluids.

When the inspection was done, they marked her wrists indelibly in ink. It would bind her chakra. Possibly blow her up if she tugged at her coils hard enough. She shrugged. She did not need chakra to kill.

Her guide, a square-jawed chunin, gestured her down a hallway. He did not speak to her and kept his eyes forward, unblinking behind a pair of thick glasses.

In a room that had never known sunlight sat Ibiki, pouring over missives, messages, and reports. Even during the Academy years, Ibiki had a way of ferreting out information whether it be answers to the quarterly exams or the simple answer to the question—who had dyed his hair an eye-searing neon-orange?

Rin heard of what happened to him when he was taken prisoner by the Village of the Bloody Mist shortly after she left with Jiraiya. She was glad Ibiki did not go the way of Fudou or even Kizaru Oban.

"Nohara," Ibiki acknowledged, looking up briefly from his paperwork to dismiss the chunin at her side. His desk looked somehow worse than Minato's burgeoning pile. She made out a jumble of numbers and letters scrawled across what might have been an exploding tag, nearly indecipherable due to the splatters of blood.

A code, she recognized. Not so difficult she couldn't interpret an intercepted message from Oto to Suna but unimportant enough that Ibiki had left it out in the open, in plain view. Anyone dumb enough to steal from the Konoha Intelligence Division was liable to find that documents had the unfortunate tendency to explode anyway. A paranoid Nara clansman, a founding member of Konoha Intelligence Division, had modified an explosion release technique to turn every scrap of paper into an exploding tag. The seals around the perimeter of the building dampened the tag. But if a document was to be snuck out—

There was a reason why people didn't do that.

At any rate, important information got sealed into a summon. Or a corpse. She had seen examples of both during her travels and had learned to read precious ink from entrails.

Ibiki motioned her to sit.

"Tea?" and without waiting for an answer, grabbed a kettle at the edge of his desk to pour.

"Yes, please." Rin agreed pleasantly.

When the leaves settled, Ibiki pushed it forward.

The tea tasted hot and tarry with a squeeze of lemon at the end. Ibiki did not ask her if she wanted milk or honey to soften the bitterness but instead, held out a small bowl of lemon wedges.

All flavors that could mask the taste of corkwood.

Ibiki had always loved his little tricks.

Rin took a lemon wedge and squeezed it into her cup. Then, she took the spent lemon and popped it in her mouth, gnawing at the hard, yellow rind. She knew what she was. She was recently returned from a ten year mission. There was no way to make certain that she was still loyal. The analytics division was still going through her reports and wanted to book an appointment for a bit of Yamanaka Mind Walking.

She had time.

"Congratulations on your promotion." Ibiki said at last.

"Thank you." Rin said demurely. "I'm sure there were worthier candidates."

"You think that the Hokage is wrong."

Rin appreciated Ibiki's candor. They were busy people after all. There was no use wasting time on subterfuge.

"I didn't come back here to be a jounin instructor."

Ibiki calmly asked, "Then why did you?"

"It was time."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Officially, she was under the tutelage of Sanin Jiraiya, the Toad Sage. A noble enough cause for Minato's sole surviving genin. Unofficially, everyone in the village and the next over knew about Kakashi. Rumors had the unfortunate habit of overgrowth unless pruned back. She imagined even Kumo knew of her wayward teammate.

"No." She answered.

"How long will you be staying in the village?"

"It's my understanding that jounin do not leave the village unless they are assigned."

"No." Ibiki said carefully. "Jounin tend to be too valuable for long-term assignments."

"I imagine I will be staying a while."

"That would be a waste of resources." Ibiki said. "The Fire Daimyo has his many intrigues. I doubt he knows to keep track them of all."

The Fire Daimyo had a son. Not much was known about him so she assumed that the son was mediocre. The daughter, on the other hand, had reputation for being ambitious. She'd married a councilman high in the Wind Daimyo's favor.

Rin recalled that Homura had been married off to the Fire Daimyo's favorite nephew. He was hoping to mold his nephew as a replacement. Become a kingmaker, a puppeteer behind the scenes. But Homura had produced a daughter. In their world, daughters were useless for politicking.

She thought for a moment.

"Sakura?"

It was a shot in the dark that paid off.

Ibiki's eye barely twitched.

"She has the aptitude for it." He remarked, crossing out the lines on the page under his hand. "She has excellent chakra control—even better than yours."

Rin huffed in mock anger.

Her father was in the genin corps. Never made it to chunin despite having been old enough to have attended both the Second and Third Shinobi Wars. During war, promotion wasn't based on paper exams, they were based on merit. Experience prevailed eventually. But Kizashi never got promoted.

"The Fourth believes that his son could also benefit."

She rolled her eyes.

"Sasuke is an Uchiha. Sakura has pink hair. Naruto is as subtle as he is going to get."

Ibiki did not rise to her bait.

"Even so."

"Why would Lord Fourth wish to put a group of genin before the eyes of the Daimyo?"

"He is the Hokage's son." Ibiki said. "Is that not enough?"

"They're soft."

Ibiki nodded once in agreement. They hadn't been like that when they were ten. By the time they were eight, they were Academy graduates. Genin. Some had even shed blood. They were chunin by ten. Even Obito had made his first kill by then—a truly alarming instance when a grass-nin had cut him off during escape and he had not been able to stop in time. He'd nearly beheaded himself on the enemy's katana. Instead, he had run through the grass-nin with a four-pointed shuriken, shredding his own hands in the effort. The grass-nin's chest had caved in from the impact. Minato said he had never seen anything like it. Obito had been inconsolable until they bedded down for the night, at the crack of dawn when his sniffles had given away to thirst. He had been fine afterwards.

He was.

By thirteen, they were adults fighting in a war they hadn't known could end. The world seemed so much softer in peacetime. Stranger. Like she couldn't quite believe that she could put down her knives.

But it was an illusion. Relationships were still fraught between the borders of Fire and Earth. There were rumors of a revolution in Ame. Kusa continued to pay tithes to Konoha for their role in the Third Shinobi War. Taki had turned its back on both, relying on the protection of their jinchuriki. The Hyuuga heiress, Hinata's had survived multiple kidnapping attempts though none so bold as the Hyuuga Affair. She would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for a blade that may or may not come.

"What do you know about Sasuke?"

Ibiki did not shrug but it was a near thing.

"He is an Uchiha."

And a spare. His older brother Itachi had more talent. He had beaten all the Academy records chiseled in place by Kakashi when they were young. Blood didn't always run true in families but Sasuke had potential.

"It seems to me that the person with the least to gain from this arrangement is him."

"On the contrary, he volunteered."

Rin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Ibiki's expression gave away nothing.

Uchiha Sasuke was ten. His actions were an extension of his powerful clan. What had happened to the Uchiha in the ten years she'd been gone?

"There is nothing wrong with the team." Ibiki stated.

"On paper." Rin countered. "Sakura will never be able to keep up."

"She'll have to. In three years, it'll fall on Konoha to host the chunin exams."

Rin let out a groan. She had forgotten. Villages took turns showcasing their youngsters and boasting their own. Ibiki might be out of a job by the time Konoha's turn came.

"Why did we have to do this again?"

"To foster friendship and cooperation." Ibiki recited dutifully though the corners of his lips twitched downwards in distaste.

"I don't even like kids."

"Gai believes that you will prevail." Ibiki offered modestly.

Gai believed in Kakashi too—she thought. But got the gist of what Ibiki meant.

"Can I go now?"

Ibiki nodded and as though he'd been waiting, her chunin guide smartly reappeared in the doorway.

"Nohara," Ibiki said meaningfully. She didn't want to hear it.

"It was good to see you again Ibiki."

And dropped a kiss on top of his head.

+++++16+++++

"Okay, but he didn't need to ban me from the building."

"Ibiki is paranoid." Genma chuckled. "I bet he's taking a shower right now to see if you planted a bug on him."

"I hope it's cold." Rin grumbled.

"It's Ibiki." Genma hummed.

"Well, you know T & I." Aoba said suggestively. "I have a friend there and well, she never denied anything.

She tore into a dango.

"So what's this I hear about a bet?"

Genma and Aoba didn't even try to deny it. Asuma grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"I put down thirty-ten."

Rin frowned.

"Thirty days?"

"Thirty minutes." Aoba corrected, bursting out laughing when she sucker-punched him in the ribs.

"Traitors." She hissed. "I wouldn't fail my students in half an hour."

Asuma looked smug, like a tomcat curled up next to a smoking chimney. He waggled his fingers.

"We heard about you Nohara while you were gone."

"Lies. There was nothing to hear. No one knew it was me."

"Exactly." Asuma nodded as though in his strange mind, Rin had agreed with him. "We had sightings of Jiraiya now and then."

"The Hokage got complaints from Yu." Aoba whispered faux-loud.

She winced. That had been bad. It wouldn't have been bad if Yu still had a functioning force of ninjas. It would have been clean. The injured party could have easily demanded reparations from Jiraiya somewhere. A dark alley perhaps. The problem was that Yu's security forces had been incorporated into its police force.

And Jiraiya had peeped on the chief's young wife.

"Can't forget the debts he racked up from Tani to Shimo." Genma nodded along.

"He also promised Inuzuka Tsume's hand to the leader of Numa."

Rin thought for a moment.

"No. He didn't."

"Anko had to go there and apologize in person."

"Why Anko?" She asked.

Aoba waved a hand.

"There was an assignment. She had to protect their leader, Chichiatsu, so she knows him personally. Anyway, I hope Jiraiya knows to stay away from the Inuzuka compounds."

"The point is." Asuma cut in smoothly. "We heard a lot about Jiraiya. But even the great Sanin Jiraiya can't be in two places at once. While he was matchmaking in the swamp, someone white and hairy got in Suna and stole a fire sealing scroll. That was you wasn't it?"

"Don't bother denying it because last night's story totally proves that it was you." Aoba interjected. In case, Rin had decided to argue.

Rin was touched. She hadn't known her former classmates were paying close attention to her comings and goings—or at least Jiraiya's comings and goings. Rin was a ninja with no clan, no great name and no bones tied to the root of the village. In her line of work, there was no greater skill than anonymity. Yet, her teachers knew. Her former classmates knew. Kakashi knew. And Obito knew.

Genma took the senbon from his mouth.

"Anyway, you want in?"

"Yes."