AN: Once again the new semester has me totally buried in seminar homework and preparations for said seminars. But there's a bit of news I am quite thrilled about: Not only did I get an internship for my practical semester at the one place where I never thought I'd be accepted, but I'll also be spending my following and last semester abroad. I still can't quite believe it!

But enough boring you with real life stuff, here's the new chapter! I hope you enjoy and thank you for all your support, I keeps me going :)

(So sorry, that it turned into a 10K monster, but maybe it makes up for the long hiatus?)

Music: "Neon Noon" of Kasabian

- Chapter 19 -

Cotton Candy Happy

About one week later

Ironically enough, finding herself just seconds shy of blacking out wasn't the worst part of Futaba's night. There was, in fact, a little part of her that wouldn't be completely averse to the idea of just letting go for once; even if she couldn't quite tell wether this notion belonged to her voice of reason, or rather to that of self-preservative restraint.

The only thing Futaba knew with dead certainty was that this had been a close one. Close as in running into Orochimaru in that damned forest, or fighting that strange man at the borders of Konoha. Even if she still felt strangely detached from the panic simmering somewhere in her gut this time.

There was just something rather brusque about suddenly knowing one's limit — being introduced to its coppery taste, the sound of your own blood struggling to transport what little oxygen those shallow breaths could possibly provide…

And then there were of course the voices.

—i told you not to trust the snake, nee-chan. never ever trust the snake… just look at what it's done to you… what you've become!—

If Futaba had still been capable of telling her numb arms and legs apart from one another, she might have lifted them in an attempt to childishly cover her ears, her eyes — anything really, if only it would keep those words away.

—you were supposed to be on my side! do you even remember the promises you made? all those big words you spouted about siblings protecting each other, it's— how's this supposed to work anyway when you can't even protect yourself? tell me how, futaba! because i don't know if i can even trust you like this…—

How was it possible to have missed the sound of someone's voice this much… only to desperately wish for it to stop? To just make it so that it could never say those hurtful words again. She didn't want to hear them, much less remember about that day…

And as if to mock her inability to fight back, it was his voice that took over from the cruel disappointment of her brother.

—well, i would like to say that your mother died a peaceful death, but i really am bad liar, you know? it wasn't pretty. wasn't pretty at all. even if someone as pretty as her should have deserved to be turned into a lovely, intact corpse, hah… but do you want to know what that woman wasted her last breath on? she told me about you. how she was afraid of you… so very afraid of something so absolutely perfect. funny, innit? foolish woman should have known better. you are remarkable, futaba-chan! i know, i know… daddy shouldn't play favorites, but you are — you are daddy's favorite, yes! because you are my perfect child, aren't you baby girl?—

Just when Futaba thought that she would go mad locked up inside her head with the voice of her father, someone slapped her out of it — quite literally so.

It cracked the shell of cold despair; ceased the constant stream of "No! No! No! No! NO! NO!" dropping from her lips and then there was warmth flooding her tingly limbs before everything came back to her: The roughness of the wall slightly burning against her scratched skin, the glaring lights, the sting on her left cheek…

Trying to focus her eyes on the trembling heap of hands in her lap, she could hardly miss the dark lines snaking along her trembling arms. Even if she wanted to. With her blurry sight the gleeful dance of her father's little reminder turned her skin an unhealthy black; almost as if this cursed seal had finally decided to swallow her whole…

"…—aba-san."

There was a shadow towering over her. In one of his hands he held something that reflected the light of naked bulb dancing somewhat drunkenly above his head. Unable to defend herself, Futaba could do no more than crane her neck to see what it was — consequently loosing what little balance the wall pressing against her back had offered her before.

And in answer to this disconcerting feeling of slowly —but inevitably— tilting sideways, Futaba gave a strangled sound — squeezing her eyes shut.

Much to her surprise, however, her fall was broken by a huge hand gripping her upper arm to steady her. The pressure was applied with surprising care and Futaba's green eyes flickered absentmindedly to watch the dark of her own skin recede beneath the tanned fingers of the stranger.

"Drink" the person urged her now with a deep rumble and finally the guardian spirit was able to see the outlines of a face, the metallic shine of the forehead protector and the water cup being held patiently in front of her.

So she still was inside the interrogation room.

With it's unsympathetic walls and the wobbly chair, which she had apparently knocked over in her blind attempt to escape her resurfacing memories.

"It's just water" her interrogator promised without pretending as if he actually cared whether or not she believed him.

Regaining most of her bearings by simply forcing herself to take a few calming breaths, Futaba pushed herself to once again lean with her back against the cold wall; the skin of her arm still slightly tingling where Morino Ibiki had just now stabilized her deprived system with a bit of his own chakra — a welcome surge of warmth seeping through her; similar to sun-warmed rocks.

Searching the dark eyes of the man crouching before her, Futaba finally accepted the water and the first sip ran down her parched throat like the essence of life itself. Still, she waited for the pain to release its hold on her cramped muscles, before she could even start to consider his reasons for such a comparatively kind gesture.

It would seem that Morino Ibiki was now as acutely aware of her limit as Futaba herself. And he made no secret of his disappointment.

'Well, at least we're on the same page for once' the exhausted guardian spirit noted decidedly unamused, carefully unlocking her clenched jaw to break the silence.

"Any progress?" Swallowing audibly, she hoped that the hot pressure inside her skull would soon recede, "I only remember that… we've used the last encounter between me and Orochimaru as a—… a starting point and then everything's a bit hazy…"

Dark eyes assessed her long enough to let her know that —whatever she had just told him under the influence of his admittedly potent technique— had prompted Ibiki to completely reassess the situation.

He however chose to carefully consider his next words before drawing himself up to his full height, "The information doesn't quite fit in with the rest of it…"

Gently running her fingers along the smooth surface of the cup to calm their helpless convulsions, Futaba allowed her heavy head to rest against the wall. Since Ibiki had moved to lean against the desk behind him, she was now forced to drag her eyes up to his face; finding him ready to answer her stare with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest — a contradicting mix of expectation and doubt coloring his body language.

Not sure how much longer she'd be able to stay properly focused for this conversation, Futaba decided to follow up on his comment, "… but?"

Her monosyllabic, yet inquisitive question seemed to amuse her interrogator — if the somewhat reluctant grunt was anything to go by.

"So it only takes two consecutive sessions of genjutsu manipulation to properly rid you of that politeness" Ibiki remarked almost a little exasperated before he turned to sort through the papers on the desk behind him.

If Futaba had not been struggling against the creeping sensation of her senses slowly failing her yet again, she might have felt a tad touched that he would still refuse to turn his back on her. It wasn't like she posed any actual threat to him; especially since they filled her with enough drugs to make her teeth shatter. Yet Ibiki never allowed himself to underestimate her — probably due to a bit of 'old habits die hard' and just enough nasty stories to back them up.

With some effort, Futaba pushed those thoughts to a far away corner of her mind in favor of addressing the T&I shinobi with a frown, "You still believe that I am somehow trying to trick you."

"Of course" the huge shadow replied without missing a beat. He did however pause before his next words, "It's not everyday that it's the inmate who is requesting special treatment."

"Well, if I am not able to present any sensitive information on Orochimaru's dealings at the hearing, Morino-san, even Hokage-sama will no longer be able to guarantee Fuu's wellbeing. The council needs more than my willingness to cooperate — you said so yourself."

Her strangely sober, matter-of-factly explanation was rewarded with the full attention of her interrogator. She couldn't help but marvel at his refusal to show even the slightest bit of remorse at the sight of her crumbled form. Maybe he couldn't find it in himself to care — similar to her inability to feel ashamed for appearing this weak.

What actually bothered her was his stubborn refusal to accept her reasons for agreeing to this. It was almost as if he wanted to prove her wrong by making fun of the bond between her and Fuu. Something that she wouldn't allow him to use as leverage against her.

"I only agreed to do this experiment in the hopes that it would weaken Orochimaru's block on my memories. Not because enduring the psychological and physical pressure applied through a multitude of overlapping genjutsu corresponds with my idea of evening entertainment. If this convenient Psycho Mind Transmission jutsu of yours would actually work on me, there would be no need to make feel so… special."

"'should have been more careful about delivering yourself to opportunistic fuinjutsu masters then" was the unsympathetic response to her cynicism, though Futaba could swear that one corner of Ibiki's mouth had just twitched.

Frowning a bit at some of his written notes, her bulky man apparently couldn't help but add, "After all it was your seal that acted up whenever we tried to get a good reading on your mind. Though it was kind of hilarious to have the new kid do the clean-up after that last failed attempt. It did serve as a nice first initiation here. Did you know he actually believed we had repeatedly smashed your head on the oven to create such a mess?"

On her very first night at the T&I Futaba had learned that the 'oven' was a curious apparatus that was used to amplify the effect of their transmission jutsu. Having expected far more… excruciating interrogation methods, once submitted to their sphere of control, the idea of being stuck inside a stone with only one's head sticking out of it, didn't quite justify Futaba's worst fears.

It however wasn't the most comfortable setup either.

Especially since —before they could even get started— her damn seal had decided to react rather badly with the fuinjutsu woven through the whole device. Even the chunin assisting Inoichi had been somewhat baffled when instead of steam rising from the oven —hence the clever nickname— a heavy nosebleed had put a rather sudden end to the session.

Thinking that she ought to feel sorry for the new kid, Futaba couldn't help but grasp at the glimmer of mirth that had trickled through Morino Ibiki's guard just now. It was a warm fluttery thing that faded in the blink of an eye; leaving a strange longing in its wake.

With the start of her medication, Futaba had been feeling empty and slightly off. A state which she had blamed on the holes of her memories and the fact that she had submitted herself and Fuu to the mercy of someone who was neither friend nor foe.

In truth it was the loss of a sense she had always refused to acknowledge as such.

Being able to sense the emotions of the people around her had given her a sense of security. Futaba had integrated all those subtle nuances long ago in the way she perceived her surroundings. And that was why its loss affected her more greatly than she would've liked to admit.

Leaning back, the guardian spirit contented herself with just concentrating on her shallow and even breaths for a minute; trying not to cause another one of those painful twitches.

'It could be worse' she reminded herself not for the first time; unaware that before the hearing in two days, she would almost cling to those words like a mantra. 'Instead of attempting to sell other people's secrets, Fuu and I might as well be dead. I can deal with this. I just have to.'

While Morino Ibiki surely hadn't warmed up to her stories during the last week, he had been the one who agreed to try and find another way; an alternative to the Psycho Mind Transmission.

So eventually they had come up with this: To pick one little piece from a memory closely linked to what was missing and then outline it — before recreating the smell, the sound… what had the ground felt like beneath her feet? Was it out in the nature with soft grass beneath her soles —wind affectionately nipping at her cheeks— or had she been inside a building filled with the presence of others? Who had been there? What had been said? What had happened next?

Starting from this point, they'd try to pull information from the black spots of her memory — treading carefully along the frayed seams of her mind.

Simplifying it like this, Futaba thought that the actual concept sure resembled like a rather lovely daydream; the perfect pastime for someone who had led a life worth remembering. Time spent with family and friends, an honorable occupation…

Futaba however highly doubted that the dark blotches in her timeline would reveal much warmth or a noteworthy list of noble deeds. Even more so since she was only able to address the missing parts whenever they'd choose a starting point that happened to be especially painful for her.

How should ever come any good from delving any deeper into all of that?

And yet…

"Let's try it again" Futaba found herself saying as she struggled to get back on her feet; the upper half of her prison overall dangling from where she had tied it loosely around her waist.

After she had fainted for the first time during their test run, Ibiki had insisted that she'd reveal her arms to make sure that he'd catch any sign of the failsafe mechanisms. That he hadn't stopped her this time was another hint that —maybe this time— she had actually been able to recall something useful for once. Even if she had no recollection of it.

Ignoring the shivers running along her spine and feverish skin, Futaba forced her spluttering circulation to comply as she pushed herself off the wall.

Ibiki on the contrary didn't move one inch. He didn't even look up from his papers.

"While I do have no problem continuing this, I would hate to do all the paperwork should you get shipped back to the hospital. Not to mention that you'd also miss your hearing… Is this really your idea of cooperating with us? You should at least try to see past that misdirected determination of yours."

"Does that mean that I was able to remember something helpful? It might not fit but I could try again!" Futaba found herself probing; her desperation making her voice sound weak and broken to her own ears.

Unable to detect any changes in Ibiki's expression, Futaba stifled all her bitterness and allowed her hope to shine through for the barest of seconds, "Please? Morino-san, I— I am only asking whether or not I will have to write Fuu that…despite having done everything in my power to save us from Hiroko—"

"Have you?"

Staggering a little in her steps, Futaba retreated to the support of the wall — wide green eyes trying to discover some sort of twisted humor on the impassive face of her interrogator, "Excuse me?"

"I asked you whether you really have done everything in your power to give us the advantage" Ibiki suddenly snapped at her — almost as if they hadn't spent their last nights going over everything that she could possibly inform them of. "Have you—"

"Of course I have!"

"— have you really tried to give us all the crucial information you have on Orochimaru? On Hiroko? Do we know everything there is to know about them? About your relationship with them? About what sort of interest they might have in you remaining in Konoha?"

Later Futaba would admit that it was sheer luck that caused her to actually choke on tears instead of screaming at the man before her; even if the frustration made her shake for reasons that had nothing to do with her poor constitution. She was just so very, very sick of trying to understand their side, their reasons.

Yes, Orochimaru was a thorn in their side.

Yes, Hiroko was an unknown force to them and should not be trifled with.

But to her this was : her chance to guarantee Fuu's safety, to finally stop running, to actually stay at one place and maybe be able to call it her home once more…

"I really don't know" Futaba finally whispered brokenly, her voice thick with those tears that still threatened to fall any second. "I don't even know if I —haa— if I really am this person. I could be just like them… maybe I am a really and truly horrible person inside… and maybe, just maybe I actually deserve to die at the hands of my father for the things I've done, the people I've blackmailed and all the times I just stood by, doing nothing…"

For a moment the guardian spirit looked as if the very thought might crush her right then and there. And yet her sniffling laugh was as equally surprising as her gloomy observation just seconds earlier — especially when she suddenly looked up at Ibiki as if she was actually grateful to him.

That warmth even permeated throughout her voice, "I know that it probably doesn't sound very convincing coming from some runaway but I want you to know that, regardless of what's about to come, I won't betray Konoha. As long as you keep your end of bargain, I'll keep mine. That's the one rule I live by."

Without showing even the slightest reaction to her emotional declaration, Ibiki collected all of his notes, her scribbles and the map of the elemental nations before wordlessly heading for the door.

Just when Futaba thought he wasn't going to acknowledge her with a response, he inclined his head just so she could make out the outline of his face across his shoulder.

"From the very beginning I wondered why you would even try to remember" he spoke up, his voice strangely void of that power Futaba had started to associate with his person. "Surely the advantages of starting with a consciousness purged from any crime would outbalance the risk of going through all of this again… So if that little girl really is your motivation for doing this —your only reason— you should start to come up with another guarantee for us."

Standing for the first time with his back fully turned towards her, Morino Ibiki left her with the words, "Just try and think about what would happen if Fuu were to become a casualty of your choices, Futaba-san. What reason would we have to believe you then?"

"She won't pose any threat to you" Inoichi mentioned almost conversationally as he gently placed his hands on the bucket full of white carnations; warming the water with some of his chakra to revive them after their time in the fridge.

If Kurenai hadn't known any better, she might have actually believed right then that the man in front of her was just the dedicated flower shop owner he so effortlessly portrayed — a person who wore the strangely cheerful work apron with the same self-awareness he'd don the standard outfit of the Konoha Intelligence Unit.

"That's—… I am not worried about that" the kunoichi finally admitted somewhat baffled; her suddenly conflicted gaze fixed upon the blond man instead of continuing to scan the room for the familiar head of soft brown curls. "I've visited her once before… with Asuma — and she seemed fine then. There was nothing even remotely aggressive or threatening about her…"

Not the least bit surprised about her response, Inoichi reminded her with a soft smile, "And yet she's an inmate of our high-security wing."

It wasn't until later that night, when Kurenai would find herself sitting inside that very high-security wing, that she finally understood what his warning had truly been about. Right at that moment, however, the kunoichi just assumed that her prior comment might have sounded like she wasn't taking this as serious as she ought to.

"Of course she is. The Lord Hokage himself has cautioned me not to underestimate her" Kurenai assured the flower shop owner earnestly before her eyes discreetly scanned the room for the actual reason of her visit. "I thought Fuu-chan was with you after her health check at the hospital?"

Still busying himself with arranging the freshly cut flowers, Inoichi only cast a quick glance through the open doors of the greenhouse. "Ibiki dropped her off about an hour ago. I asked Ino to give her a tour."

That the Yamanaka had probably done so in order to give Kurenai the chance to properly express possible concerns could be easily translated as: 'I am aware of the Hokage's plans and you may ask away.'

So the Sandaime's earlier suggestion for her to meet up with Futaba had been more of a plan promoted by some sort of shared interest rather than the spur of the moment.

Moving forward to catch a glimpse of two heads bouncing along the rows seedlings —one blond, the other dark and fuzzy— Kurenai listened to the animated chatter of Yamanaka's daughter and Fuu's shy mumblings. She was unaware that Inoichi acknowledged her priorities with a concerned if somewhat bemused side glance. He could tell that the kunoichi would have very much liked to call out to child, but decided to not burst their peaceful bubble.

"She will be very happy to see you, Yuhi-san. After all, she's been talking about nothing else all day and there was little I could to do to distract her" Inoichi remarked with a goodnatured chuckle; proceeding to add a bunch of asters to the cut flowers' display.

Regarding his work with a critical eye, he sighed eventually, "For someone who was finally allowed to go outside for the first time in two weeks, she sure wasn't that enthusiastic. But then again it was about time that she'd stop pretending to not be affected by the whole situation. That's also the reason why I explained to her today that she will be presented at the hearing tomorrow…"

"No, you're right" Inoichi pacified Kurenai, who immediately turned to frown at him, "Fuu wasn't supposed to be involved in this. But I would like to remind the elders that, whatever verdict they'll pass on Futaba's case, will ultimately affect more than just one fate."

Joining Kurenai at the entrance of the greenhouse they both watched the children chasing whatever would bait their curiosity.

Pondering a little over his next words, Inoichi finally admitted, "Call it some sort of occupational disease, but I for one would be thrilled to test the true extent of Futaba's abilities. After all Fuu is able to react accordingly to the emotions of the people around her — well, in most cases anyway. And she certainly can't rely on chakra to enhance her senses. Futaba however —in case she'll be allowed to quit the suppressants— and with her powers and knowledge… she could prove to be a very valuable asset to Konoha."

While there was hardly any need to confirm the assumptions of the head of Konoha's Analysis Team, Kurenai gratefully accepted him lapsing into silence as an invitation to speak.

"Since I don't want to waste your time asking for information that has surely been classified, Yamanaka-san, I only have one question before the meeting with Futaba tonight."

Humming a little in response to her observation, the clan head bowed his assent.

"How is she?"

If her words surprised him, the flower shop owner showed none of it. Instead he met Kurenai's determined gaze long enough to make her feel like he was floodlighting every corner of her mind.

"It will be good for Futaba to have the night off. Especially before the hearing tomorrow night" Inoichi replied somewhat cryptically.

He then proceeded to hand Kurenai a transcript, which —judging by the red ink stamp— contained exactly said highly sensitive information. And while Kurenai did succeed at hiding her surprise, the contents caused her expressive red eyes to widen dramatically.

"This is…" Kurenai whispered, breaking off only because her mind was tripping over the many questions suddenly invading her mind.

"This is a letter Futaba addressed to Hatake Kakashi in the name of their shared ward. She implores him to visit Fuu in case the council will order her to leave Konoha."

Swallowing around the lump of very complicated feelings, Kurenai couldn't help but ask, "Does she really believe that it will come to this?"

"Oh, she has quite a number of thoughts on the possible outcomes" Inoichi sighed with saddish amusement coloring his clear voice. "She even pointed out that selling her out to her father would probably be the safest option for Konoha. Strange isn't it?"

"That's insane! Why would she even suggest this?"

"Yes, I thought so too. That's why I told her that as long as she doesn't intend to give up, it's probably for the best if she leaves the handling of unsavory deals to us."

Fuu decided that she was happy. Really, really happy. As in cotton candy happy, which —as she had explained to her guardian some time ago— was how happy it would make her if only she were able to eat cotton candy made from clouds.

His response back then had been an unimpressed, "Ah."

Which, as Futaba had later explained to her, simply meant that he lacked imagination. She had gone so far as to suggest that they'd might as well try some cotton candy made of rainbows while they were at it — wondering if it would change the color of their tongues.

Of course Fuu had immediately been enthused with the idea; sharing it with Hatake-sama to make sure that he'd join them.

Judging by the way her elite guardian had reluctantly pressed two fingers to her brow before asking whether she had hit her head, Fuu came to realize that she had once again failed to properly express herself.

"Right, Fuu-chan?" Inoichi broke through her daze, prompting the startled girl to look up at him before she proceeded to offer him a hesitant nod. She had no idea to what they had been talking about, or to what she had confirmed just now. It seemed, however, as if the conversation quickly resumed without requiring any further input from her.

Still caught up with the picture of eating rainbow cotton candy with both her guardians, Fuu's eyes drifted to the band-aid on her arm.

The sight of it reminded her of the trip to the hospital and the many new sights after all those weeks spent staring at monotone white and then grey walls. Smoothing her fingers over the gauze taped to her skin, she had to admit that the checkup hadn't been as bad as she'd feared.

After all Morino-san had agreed to take her there in order to make sure that there wouldn't be any more needles involved than strictly necessary.

Well, at least that's the reason Yamanaka-san had given her during her earlier impromptu introduction to the massive shinobi. Somehow Morino-san had looked a bit lost with the task he'd been given by Yamanaka-san; taking just one look at her blinking up at him innocently before turning to leave without another word to her or his colleague.

Five minutes into their silent walk, Fuu had decided that she liked Morino-san — if only because Ran-sama, the older girl who was studying her seal, had told to her that he was her former sensei.

She also couldn't help but notice that the young kunoichi's description of him had been spot on.

"Ibiki? Well, if you were to ever meet him, you'd know it. He's really tall, so he towers over most people." She held her hand up, far over her head and stood on the tips of her toes. "And he looks a lot like a bear. Not a cute one, either. He's as wide as a building and has a voice that sounds like he gargles gravels every morning. Wears a lot of gray and black."

As uncommunicative as Morino-san had been on their way to the hospital, he sure had asked a lot of question about Sato once they had arrived. Like how a retired shinobi —especially one as obnoxious as this one— had been able to just stroll inside the hospital and see one of the patients without even person trying to stop him.

Fuu wasn't quite sure what 'obnoxious' was supposed to mean, but she had noticed how the hospital staff would start squirming uncomfortably beneath Morino-san's stare.

Now, amidst the beautiful flowers of Yamanaka-san's flower shop, Fuu watched Ino clinging to her father's legs with a sunny smile. While the older girl had been very nice to her, Fuu couldn't help that strange feeling twisting inside her chest at the sight. It made her think about how she missed Hatake-sama, and how Yamanaka-san and Morino-san were able to talk to Futaba on a daily basis while she only received her letters.

With a pang of regret Fuu remembered not opening Futaba's newest message this morning. It was only that it no longer felt right. She didn't want any more of that cheerful chatter; especially when it wouldn't fit in with the rest of it — the hushed voices all around her, the probing eyes and the strange voices everyone would use when talking to her. Why would they speak as softly as one might at the sickbed of a person? She certainly wasn't feeling sick, so why was every so cautious with her?

Burying her forehead inside the warm fabric of Kurenai's leggings, Fuu gladly accepted the hand calming her thoughts with a gentle ruffle.

"I would like to bring Futaba some flowers" Fuu decided out of the blue, remembering just in time to not muffle her words against Kurenai's knee. She blinked shyly at both adults, belatedly noticing that she had rudely interrupted their conversation. Feeling the need to clarify, she mumbled, "To cheer her up."

Sometimes just soaking in Yamanaka-san's kind smiles was like being reassured that everything would turn out just fine.

"Of course. Ino will help you pick them out."

In the end the colorful ensemble of snapdragons did look slightly out of place; despite Kurenai's best efforts to properly arrange them in the grayish plastic jug thingy that —while practical in the most basic sense of the word— certainly wasn't very decorative.

Renewing her attempts one last time, the kunoichi turned the makeshift vase to its left, frowned, and moved it away from the center of the table — causing the whole construction to wobble dangerously as four uneven legs struggled to distribute its weight.

Releasing the sigh that had been stuck somewhere in her throat ever since she had followed Fuu inside this room, Kurenai thought to herself, 'I should have expected the cell.'

She definitely should have expected the cell, its bare walls and concrete floors, the wall-mounted bed covered with only a thin layer of foam and the suspicious lack of anything that might encourage self-harm — consequentially, there was nothing that could possibly offer the least bit of comfort to the girls.

Well, except that there was a desk and this odd assortment of flat pillows.

And the flowers, of course.

Even if the fact that they fit this poorly in the picture frustrated Kurenai. It also made her feel foolish for actually believing that it wouldn't be this bad; for thinking that this was bad. It could be so much worse really. She knew the drill — even if this department wasn't one of the places she frequented much in her line of duty. It wasn't anything new and yet… it was Fuu.

Fuu who might be forced to leave Konoha with only her nocturnal guardian spirit to keep her safe.

"If I had known that I would be entertaining a visitor tonight, I might have hurried a little to not keep you waiting for so long" a soft murmur entered Kurenai's train of thought; the other presence slowly washing over the kunoichi with the gentleness of lukewarm summer rain. "Not to mention that I am ashamed to say that I will be unable to offer you any sort of hospitality."

Having been made aware of the transformation happening in the other corner of the room, Kurenai was hardly surprised when her vision suddenly filled with the washed out purple all inmates of the T&I sported.

There was however something about the bruise covering most of Futaba's face that added a whole new level to the empty look Fuu's guardian spirit greeted her with. The lively green that had reminded Kurenai so much of Fuu's bright eyes was now of a darker, strangely murky color — like pools of brackish water.

"And yet she's an inmate of our high-security wing."

And once again the red eyed kunoichi realized that basing her assumptions on only one of the green eyed girls did little to prepare her for the reality of things. Just like how she was shocked to discover that Fuu had been living inside a holding cell for the past week, she now realized that Fuu's wellbeing wasn't as closely linked to that of her guardian spirit as one would assume.

This was no longer the nervous woman she had met inside the ANBU guarded hospital room — who had been so grateful to be still alive.

That was why —much to her own surprise— Kurenai found herself staring helplessly at the scrawny woman before her without a thing to say.

"And here I thought the color actually complimented my eyes rather nicely" Futaba sighed as she rolled up one of her overall's sleeves — the playfulness evident in her voice as she easily shifted her attention to the flowers on the desk before her. "Whom am I thank for these lovely snapdragons?"

Allowing the other woman to steer her away from the obvious topics, Kurenai followed Futaba's example and regarded the bright flowers.

"Fuu insisted on buying them for you."

"They are beautiful…" Futaba sighed, the barest hint of that fond smile on her lips — the one that seemed to be reserved for mentions of her ward only. As if she was able to sense Kurenai's corresponding emotions, the guardian spirit's eyes flickered up to address the frown that had formed on Kurenai's face. "Though I would feel terribly sorry for wasting your time — that is, if Fuu's unintended message should be the actual reason for your visit…"

"No" Kurenai finally admitted once she had realized that Futaba was referring to the flower language. After all Fuu had not chosen snapdragons for the fact that they could be translated as 'deception', but rather because she loved to pinch the individual blossoms and make the dragon mouthsopen and close. "But how come you know about hanakotoba? I wasn't aware that civilians are familiar with it."

"I once embarrassed Yashiro-sama by adding holly to the floral arrangement before a family gathering in winter" Futaba explained with a hint of mischief coloring her gentle voice. "He spent the next weeks fending off the marriage candidates the clan elders sent his way… After this he was rather insistent I'd be taught the proper rules of hanakotoba."

Involuntarily answering to Futaba's surprisingly conspiratorial smirk, Kurenai was finally able to look at the face of Fuu's guardian spirit without showing her pity. She wouldn't want it anyway, if her evasive behavior was anything to go by. But then again Kurenai couldn't even start to imagine how it must be like — to be locked away once again after just having escaped another prison; spending a year on the run.

"Fuu asked me a lot of questions today" Kurenai finally introduced what she deemed a safe topic — even if the words of Futaba's letter to Kakashi still spooked around her head.

"Oh my, she only started asking question now? Sounds to me like she finally learned to keep her curiosity in check."

Pleasantly surprised to actually see the smile widening on Futaba's face, the kunoichi chuckled a little, "Well, it's true that she's unusually curious, even for a small child, but I guess it took her a while to get used to us first. Today we went out with Gai and Asuma for dinner and she started asking about what you like and dislike… if you are going to like the flowers she picked out for you and that we should tell you to make the dragons talk — I guess that's the reason why she wanted to buy them in the first place…"

To her surprise, Futaba immediately reached over to softly pinch one of the yellow blossom between her fingers — making the dragon talk. And while her smile had been there before, it now turned brilliant with some of the light returning to her eyes.

"She also mentioned that one of the stories you told her was about a dragon god who could turn into a human" shaking her head a bit, Kurenai regarded the flowers with a rather fond expression. "Asuma teased her mercilessly about it."

"Ah, it's probably the story of Watatsumi, the dragon god and the ruler of seas and oceans" Futaba hummed with the sort of reverence others might adopt when speaking of their clan's notable ancestors. "She's been particularly fond of that one since it's a tale about a dragon living in a palace undersea, where he guards the magical tide jewels to control the ebb and flow of the ocean. I used to keep a stack of Fuu's drawings… of a palace built of colorful shards of glass, shiny seashells and floors made of white powdery sands."

"She showed me the illustrated stories that she keeps in her backpack" Kurenai mentioned in attempt to hide just how much this vivid picture actually affected her.

Thinking about it now, Kurenai remembered how Fuu had refused to let the fanfold storybook out of her sight. The kunoichi had to promise her that she would treat it with the utmost care and even then the child had been nervously dancing from one foot to another until it was returned to her.

To sit here and witness just how far the two of them would go for each other without having met even once, Kurenai suddenly felt an ungrudging and deep respect for the woman sitting before her, "It's amazing that the two of you have such close relationship…"

"It hasn't always been like this."

Looking up in surprise, Kurenai discovered that she had not been the only taken by surprise. Apparently Futaba had not meant to openly share this thought. The panic suddenly flickering in her eyes was almost painful to look at.

"I'm sorry, this came out wrong… I—… It's just that we got off to a rocky start, me and Fuu" Futaba stumbled forward with her words — one of her hands tightly gripping the other arm. Almost as if to stop herself from continuing. "The thought of relinquishing my days to some strange girl, who was not only completely defenseless, but also far too trusting, wasn't something I could accept that easily. I was trying to run from my father and then there she was. At first I didn't even know what it was that happened to me."

Realizing that she had been unconsciously leaning forward, Kurenai tried to shake off the spell Futaba so easily created with her words and expressions.

"I was confused, afraid… and at some point I might have even believed that I turned into a monster during daytime, just like in those tales of men transforming into beasts at night. Foolish, I know, but it scared me that I would never wake up where I'd hidden the morning before… And then, one day, I suddenly regained my consciousness in one of Orochimaru's hideouts. He was the one who told me about this child named Fuu, who had been bitten by a snake only to be saved by him on a whim."

Thinking of little Fuu ever getting close to that man, Kurenai had to forcefully push the image away. She had been trying to be less affected by her fondness of the child and there was no use to feel protective now that all of that belonged to the past. The thought did however still settled as an uncomfortable feeling deep down in her gut.

Actually trying to put herself in the guardian spirit's shoes, Kurenai reasoned, "You must have been relieved."

Instead of answering to the kunoichi's assumption immediately, Futaba inclined her head at her. Almost as if there was something particularly fascinating or puzzling about her statement. Eventually she lowered her gaze, muttering, "I believe I was."

"So what was it like after you… parted ways with the Sannin?"

Visibly amused that Kurenai would put it this way, Futaba still chose to humor her, "I tried to get away as far and as fast as possible. I ran throughout the nights, providing Fuu with food and shelter for the day. Sometimes I tricked people into taking care of her" she admitted with a small frown; although Kurenai wasn't sure whether it was because of a guilty conscience or the fact that she had been dissatisfied with the results. "I was afraid that having no one to talk to besides an invisible pen pal would result in trouble sooner or later."

"How was it for you to not only run from your father but from Orochimaru as well?" Kurenai pressed, remembering that the Hokage had cautioned her not to let the guardian spirit distract her with the casualness of her words.

"It wasn't always easy. Otherwise I would probably not be sitting here with you, waiting for my verdict" Futaba observed dryly before drawing a deep breath. "But I—… I'd like to think that I would choose this anytime over waking one more night in the prison he had put me in."

That there were more than just those two alternatives was something Kurenai chose not to point out. She wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to know the answer to the question about what other options the guardian spirit might have considered.

Unable to completely hide the nature of her thoughts, Kurenai swallowed audibly before addressing the one thing that had been bugging her ever since she found out about the girls' connection to the Snake Sannin, "If you'll excuse my curiosity, I'd like to ask you for the reason. Why did you run from Orochimaru? After all, he's been the one to protect you from your father… or am I wrong?"

For the longest moment Kurenai feared that her words had been too blunt. Yet, strangely enough, the shadows suddenly darkening Futaba's face were not born from denial, but rather some sort of exhausted disbelief.

"Are you aware that nobody has ever bothered to ask me this before?" she wondered very softly and there was something so absolutely captivating about her gaze that Kurenai couldn't tear her own eyes away. "The when, the where and always, always the how… just never before the why. But then again, it's only natural to assume that I had enough reasons to run from a mad man… who wouldn't, after all? It's probably much more difficult to imagine that I had been able to do so in the first place. Why bother with the why when it's that obvious…"

If the guardian spirit's body been attentively straight in its posture until then, the way it now hunched made her appear just that much smaller — almost breakable.

The kunoichi, who wracked her brain for something to say in response to this admission, couldn't help but notice how Futaba's thin fingers gripped her own shoulder hard enough that her knuckles turned white.

'Where Orochimaru placed his memory seal' Kurenai realized, her gaze flickering back to Futaba's face when the woman attempted a shaky breath.

Her next words sounded almost as if she had to convince herself of a lie, "You're right. It's only because of protection that I stayed in the first place. So, please tell the Hokage—" Futaba finally sobered up just enough to let Kurenai know that she was aware that the kunoichi had been sent here. "—that despite the many possible reasons… it was ultimately because Orochimaru didn't keep his promise."

Kurenai knew then that woman before her was neither proud nor ashamed of her time spent with the Snake Sannin. Her words were surprisingly void of emotion and if the kunoichi had to put her finger on it, she'd say that the note that happened to linger the longest was one of regret.

"What kind of promise did he give you that made you believe him?"

Pulling herself together admirably, Futaba looked up and smiled.

"What was her answer?" Sarutobi Hiruzen inquired with a small frown once Kurenai's narration came to a sudden halt.

"Basically" and here the kunoichi nervously wet her lips, "it was the same promise you've given her, Sandaime-sama. To keep Fuu safe and happy, to protect her from any harm… and especially her father."

After this revelation both of them stayed quiet for a matter of time — the kunoichi unsure whether she should share her thoughts, whereas the Third couldn't quite believe that his former student would bother with the safety of a small child if there wasn't something that appealed to his greedy selfishness.

"Hokage-sama, I wonder if it's possible that Futaba-san —at some point— actually cared for the Sannin?"

Without knowing it, Yuhi Kurenai had just displayed the same incredulity for which the Sarutobi had used to reprimand people not so long ago; all those who had approached him with their worries concerning his brilliant student. He had sent them away. Every single one of them.

Now Hiruzen tried to imagine how the young woman could have possibly convinced his former student that she was worth protecting. Had he seen no more than the former servant of Uchiha Clan, raised to please the people around her? Or had he been fascinated enough with her seal and the promise of a strong bloodline?

In all of this Futaba appeared to be the victim and yet, there was a lot that didn't quite fit this role. One of the Sandaime's main concerns was this strange contradiction of her emotional instability and this almost sober —if somewhat bewildering— awareness of the part which she had been assigned in this little game.

After all Fuu's guardian spirit had actually been daring enough to send him a warning through Kurenai. A reminder that he, too, had a promise to keep.

With a deep sigh, the Hokage took his hat off to rub at his temples, "Regardless of whether or not she cared about him, I can't help but worry. Right now she's cooperating with us only because Fuu serves as an insurance. Should the girls be given the benefit of doubt for what Futaba's still lacking in memory, I expect her gratefulness to Konoha will last for some time…"

"But will she really be strong enough to resist when someone presents her with a different solution to her problem?" the Third countered in the same breath. "Orochimaru tricked her once… and I am under no illusion that he won't try again; as long as he's given some time to come up with a new tactic. He wouldn't have allowed for her to return to Konoha without some sort of personal gain."

For a second Kurenai's thoughts wandered back to how she had met Futaba for the first time in the hospital, and how little this version had in common with the empty shell of a woman that she had left just minutes ago.

It was quite obvious to her that right now Futaba was at her wits' end.

Drawing her brows together, the kunoichi decided to somehow try and relay her opinion without making it too obvious that she had actually left the Hokage's train of thought quite some time ago.

"Right now she doesn't believe that we will ever let her free… She has been betrayed too many times to actually believe in us" Kurenai interposed. Somehow she had a feeling that they shouldn't focus that much on the single individuals of her past, but instead on the common thread. "I however believe that if we were the ones to offer her peace and a chance to redeem herself, there would be no need to worry about her allegiance. And it's evidently something that Orochimaru had been unable to give her."

Regarding the woman before her with sharp eyes, Sarutobi Hiruzen allowed for the barest of smiles to lighten his grim expression.

"You might actually be right about that…"

Although Futaba was now forced to try and recognize people by their appearance instead of their hearts, there was no mistaking that the man, who now entered the corridor from the other end, was Hatake Kakashi. And yet his unexpected sight didn't raise any hopes on her part — if anything it was in that moment that she realized how foolish her plea for him to meet Fuu had been.

The man now approaching her had most certainly not bothered to read her letter. Just like how he had at no point intended to visit his ward after having handed her over to the authorities.

Judging by his straightened posture and his evident refusal to meet her eyes, it was safe to assume that their meeting here was a mere coincidence. Apparently the Hatake would have childishly refused to take even one single step down this corridor, if he had known that he'd run into her.

Strange how the knowledge that he'd rather evade her than actually face her, returned the tiniest bit of confidence to the rather dispirited detainee. While it could hardly make her feel better about her situation, she now knew that the great hero of the sharingan wasn't as unaffected as he'd led her to believe.

Allowing her ANBU guard to guide her past him, Futaba was only able to take a few more steps before the thought of just letting it slide became unbearable to her.

"Who do you intend to punish by refusing to go and meet her, Hatake-san?" she called after him, using the momentum of impulsiveness usually born from the desperation of fighting for a lost cause. "Is it me or yourself? Because the one who hurts the most is also the one person who shouldn't be held responsible for any of this. But you already know this, don't you?"

Her voice carried surprisingly well to his end of the corridor, easily reaching the silver haired shinobi who had just been about to turn around the corner. Futaba wasn't sure if it was the harsh light of the T&I building, or if her anger actually amplified what little of her ability was left, but in that moment she just knew that her words had hit him.

Before the ANBU guard or her failing courage could hinder her, she continued, "If you need to be angry at someone, you should direct those feelings at me. I have been the one who tricked you, I used you to keep Fuu safe — despite knowing how it would make you feel once you'd find out. But Fuu doesn't even know that I've been hiding from you. She probably assumes that we spent the nights talking and drinking tea…"

Hatake's shoulders tensed as if the mere idea was enough to cause him a stomach ache. Still, he did slightly turn, as if he was actually listening to her words.

"I don't know if the intel I provided, will be worth Fuu's safety" Futaba explained more calmly since he had at least stopped trying to put more distance between them. Somehow she had a feeling that the ANBU would surely stop her from chasing after him — being a detainee and everything. "I only implore you to go and talk to her because this might be your last chance to do so. She needs you, Hatake-san. That's the one thing that hasn't changed… and I—… I really hope that you won't deny this to her just because of what I've done. I just really want what's best for her."

"Ah."

Blinking in surprise Futaba looked up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at, only to find him standing there — sighing as if she had just asked the most trivial thing of him. Telling him that he should go and buy milk although it had just started raining.

"Excuse me?" she whispered, too stunned to believe her own ears.

He fixed his one eye on her with a blank stare, "You said something — I acknowledged that you did. It's just that it no longer concerns me."

"No, I know, or rather, I should have known better… than to take it out on you."

He couldn't…

"I completely ignored your feelings, Fuu. And for that I am truly… sorry."

Those were the words he had said to her the night he caught her cleaning the bandages. Of course he hadn't known that it actually was her at that time, but this small detail should hardly make his words count any less.

Taking a deep breath, Futaba presented her response to his ignorance with great emphasis and a perfectly straight face, "You bloody whimsical prat."

Deciding that it was now his turn for to stare at her face full of silent fury, he gave an incredulous half-growl, "Excuse me?"

"You're trying to make this all about you" the guardian spirit accused the shinobi, who in answer to her rising voice took one warning step in her direction. "But it's not! This isn't about either of us, so how about you start delivering on the promises you made instead of tending to your wounded pri—"

Before either the jonin or ANBU could reach her, the sudden red flood rushing out of Futaba's nose put a rather unexpected end to her rant. It was followed by the same pain that always hit her as a repercussion for fighting against the effect of her chakra suppressants — black exploding on every inch of her skin like some sort of lethal disease.

Swaying slightly on her feet, Futaba caught herself with one dark hand pressed to her face.

Well, this could have gone better…

Kakashi would deny it for many years to come, but while the sight of a coal-skinned woman in a purple overall was slightly terrifying, he was mildly impressed when she actually managed to glare at him before continuing on her way as if there wasn't blood smeared over half of her face.

No one had ever been angry enough with him to actually start a nosebleed. But of course he didn't quite understand this until his own anger and lingering guilt had subsided.

Although Yamato had simply been tasked with escorting an inmate back and forth between her cell and the infirmary, he now found himself handing tissues to the woman who had just dared to openly reproach his team leader in front of him. Not that she was aware of this, but still.

Now they were standing around the corner — or rather he was standing, she had slid down the wall as soon as they had left the Hatake's sight. The dark on her skin thankfully fading quickly.

Yamato wasn't yet sure whether he'd get into trouble for what just happened, or rather in how much trouble he already was, but he couldn't just ignore the crying woman. There was something rather messy about the whole affair — one of her hands pressed to her mouth while blood and tears freely ran down her face. Only the sort of particularly violent hiccup interrupting her seething sniffling now and then.

She did however accept the tissues with a grateful look in her bright green eyes. He hoped that it were only her tears that made them glow like that. It was admittedly kinda unnerving.

After a few minutes spent awkwardly standing guard next to her shaking form, he took one step forward to catch her attention before nodding in the general direction of her cell. She silently accepted his non-verbal prompt, trusting him to nudge her forward since she leaned her head back to pinch her nose.

Thankfully they arrived at the high-security wing without any further disturbances and it wasn't like anybody bothered to comment on her nosebleed. After the first few times most of them had gotten used to this sight.

When they arrived in front of her cell door, she carefully removed the tissues to utter a rather shaky, "Thank you, ANBU-san."

Yamato was just about to acknowledge her manners, because for a detainee she had always been rather polite (to him at least), when Futaba sneezed at him — spraying blood all over his mask.

In the next few seconds he learned that she could be just as creative when it came apologizing as she had been when scolding his team leader earlier. She could also be quite determined to get her point across — even it meant going so far as attempting to wipe his porcelain mask with the sleeve of her prison overall.

He decided that it was the last time he had gotten involved in the personal affairs of an inmate.

/ ... / So, I hope you all made it safely to the end of this long chapter. Did you know that flowers stay fresh longer when you place them in warm water after putting them inside your fridge? I was kinda fascinated so I thought that I'd share this with you :) And for those who didn't quite catch the meaning of hanakotoba - it's the japanese equivalent of flower language and the meaning varies sometimes.

But back to this chapter: I have to admit I really wanted to include a full scene with Ibiki; hopefully I've been able to do him justice. He's just such a great character and I would have felt bad not to include him. That's why I hope you didn't mind that this first scene influenced the whole chapter.

Also, I didn't plan on having Futaba actually reproach Kakashi... it just happened I guess? But I think I actually like that this how the two of them officially met.

Quick question for you guys: Are there any objections to a short extract from Futaba's & Fuu's hearing in the next chapter? At first I didn't plan to inlcude this at all, but now I've got this fun idea and I'd really like to go with it. I promise I'll keep it short, but if the mere idea already bores you to tears, I could leave it out - it's really up to you! :)