DO NOT READ!

by Arashi Kaoru

THIS IS FOR MY EYES ONLY. DO NOT READ THIS. I DO NOT INTEND TO STEAL ANY WORK OF OTHER WRITERS. I JUST WANTED TO USE THE AUTO-READ FEATURE OF THIS APP AND AFTER FINISHING ALL CHAPTERS, I INTEND TO DELETE THIS, DO NOT READ!

35. Chapter 35

" Easy , kid. You take this shit too fast and you'll knock yourself right out."

Naruto nods in place of any kind of verbal response, since his lungs still feel like over inflated balloons. He hasn't had to bend over to catch his breath like this since the last time they had to chase down Kakashi-sensei for being late for training, which hasn't happened since before the move in.

Its weird to think about, mostly because living together like they have been is so intrinsic to him now it's like they've always done it, like they've always existed as a unit, always lived and breathed and fought together.

He knows on some level it should feel stranger than it does.

Choji smacks him companionably on the back as he sucks in air with his hands on his knees, and Naruto can finally see straight enough that the glint of light off Genma's senbon comes back into focus. The Tokujou stands easily with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shinobi sweats, arms bare in his sleeveless top. He's got no other equipment unless Naruto counts the ever present senbon between his teeth, no weapons, no shoes, just bare basic dress.

Naruto and Choji are both equipped the same way, sleeveless tops and sweats and nothing else. Everything unnecessary had been left warded outside the training ground, far beyond the forest of yūgure no take that dominate the breadth of training ground 22.

The tall thick pillars of the Dusk Bamboo cast the forest in fluttering half-shade, the filter of the sun inconsistent through the swaying leaves. The plants twist in patterns of butter yellow and navy, an oddly beautiful combination of hues and the source behind their prettier name.

Over the course of his training with Genma, Naruto has discovered that they have another.

Bastion Stalks.

"Shit Choj'," Naruto mutters once he's gotten back enough breath to get words out of his chest. "You make this crap look easy."

The Akimichi shrugs as Naruto straightens, thumping a fist into his own sternum. "Big set-o-lungs, plus I started this before you, remember?"

"And Akimichi are, as a general rule, naturally stable in both personality and fighting style." Genma informs them drolly, hands still dropped carelessly in his pockets as he ticks his senbon sideways. "You don't have that one-up, Blondie. You're all over the place."

"I know, I know." Naruto mutters, trying to stretch out his back and shoulders while he recovers a little. His ribs are sore as hell already from all the forceful expanding and contacting, and his lungs are still very much on fire.

He knows it'll be worth it now though.

He'd been right about Genma using breathing techniques for more than just spitting senbon at supersonic speeds; looking at the muscles of his arms and the wiry leanness of his build, he bets that most people take Genma for a speed based fighter like Kakashi-sensei. And sure, he's fast, but that's not the main reason why he's dangerous.

The stretch of the training ground at Naruto's 3'o'clock is proof enough of that.

Bamboo stalks lay cracked and splintered, the steel boughs scattered across the mossy earth like pick-up sticks. It looks like an elephant charged through the glade instead of a man, and Naruto really wants to be able to do that.

"You'll get the hang of it." Genma assures, stepping across the open space to tap a knuckle against Naruto's sternum. "Remember, there's a sweet spot to every breath, once you find the trick to that, the rest is just practice."

Naruto nods and takes a deep breath, testing the stretch of his diaphragm. "Again." he decides. "I'll get it right this time."

Genma's mouth arcs in a grin, and the Tokujo gives his hair a fond and thorough ruffle. "Don't know how to quit, do ya kid?"

Before Naruto can respond to that Genma freezes, his hand stilling mid muss. He turns, not dropping his hand, and takes a deep breath.

On a normal person, the movement would be completely innocuous, a preparation for a shout maybe, but otherwise harmless without the typical hand signs that precede a breath based katon jutsu.

Naruto knows better.

A single sharp exhale and the senbon in his mouth rockets into bamboo swath to Naruto's right, almost immediately followed by a yelp and a thud, as whoever was hiding perched at the tops of the stalks comes crashing to earth.

Kurama uncurls at the back of Naruto's thoughts with a growl when the now uncloaked chakra signature registers in Naruto's senses. ~Oh you have got to be shitting me.~

Choji blinks in the direction of the thump, head tilted a little. "Who is that?"

"Just a worthless old pervert." Genma growls, but his body language belays his words; he drops his hand from Naruto's head to his shoulder, and shifts so that he's half standing between him and the new arrival. Choji picks up immediately on the subtle protective cues, and steps back to stand on Naruto's other side.

There's a groan from the shelter of the bamboo. "That's no way to treat an old man. What'd I ever do to you?" The stranger grumbles, and an older guy in clogs appears from between the boughs rubbing at his ass, with long overly fluffy white hair and a strange headplate.

"The hell do you want, old-timer? We're trying to train here." Genma mutters drolly, but again the tone doesn't match the genuine hot-metal scent of anger coming off him, bitter with hinted undertones of disappointment and disdain.

The guy holds up both hands in placation. "Hey now, I wasn't trying to interrupt anything."

"No, just creep on it." Genma fires back. "Now I repeat; what do you want, Jiraiya?"

"You have a what ?" Sakura hisses across the table, the sizzling steam rising off the barbeque plate spitting as if in reflection of her mood.

"A godfather, apparently." Naruto mutters, poking haphazardly at his beef selection as it cooks away. Kiba reaches over and turns Sakura's portion for her, since she's distracted, before going back to poking at his own.

"That's ridiculous." Sasuke mutters from beside him, picking through one of their appetizers.

Naruto huffs hard. "That's what I thought… but Kurama says he's the real deal. He was one of my father's instructors or something."

"Then where the fuck has he been exactly?" Kiba snarls, waving an arm so wide Shino has to raise a hand to block the Inuzuka's wrist from colliding with his tea glass.

"Hell if I know." Naruto grumbles, carding his fingers through his hair.

"Genma-senpai clearly isn't his biggest fan." Choji adds. "Didn't even let him talk to you before he sent us for break. There's got to be a good reason for that."

Naruto sighs heavily and scrubs his nails over his scalp again. "This whole damn thing is just confusing as hell."

Sasuke flicks him in the forehead, forcing his head back reflexively and his shoulders upright from their slouch. "Doesn't matter." he says blithely, when he has Naruto's full attention.

"What?" he grumbles, rubbing a knuckle over the spot.

Sasuke looks him dead in the eye, black on blue, and says with conviction; "It. Doesn't. Matter."

Naruto holds the stare for a moment longer, understanding coming easily as it always does between them, and nods. "I know, just makes shit complicated."

"It doesn't have to be." Sasuke fires back, and elbows him with a gesture that indicates his meat is burning. Naruto removes it and places a few more slabs.

"So I ice him out? I don't even know him."

"Don't have to. Doesn't matter."

Shino watches the exchange with interest, wondering at the dynamics of it. From an outside view it's only half a conversation, and he truly cannot tell if it's an offhand discussion, a deep emotional exchange, an argument, or some bizarre combination of all three.

"Are their conversations always like this?" He asks Shikamaru, who has neglected to talk much so far, as Shino has.

The Nara raises an eyebrow. "If you mean 'half-formed', then yes."

"They're very close." Hinata remarks from between them. "I think Sakura-chan is the only one who really understands them when they're like this."

"I agree with Sasuke." Shikamaru says suddenly, lowly, out of context.

"On what front?" Shino queries.

"Whoever this 'godfather' of his is? I don't think I'd give him the time of day." he decides, passing a plate of short ribs Choji's way, and one of seared tenderloin and grilled vegetables towards Ino, who's currently attempting to calm Sakura's destructive temper with sweet tea and girl talk; like how many ways they know how to decapitate a full grown adult.

Choji grunts disapprovingly. "Kurama had to tell Naruto who he was, you know. The old man never said a word about it."

"What's with all the secrecy anyway?" Kiba mutters. "Not just this, it was like this about his parents too. It's like somebody put a ban on straight answers."

Shikamaru shrugs. "Nothing to be done about it. It's like Iruka-sensei said, a shinobi's worst enemy…"

"Is politics." Shino finishes.

Shikamaru nods, taking a bite of his barbeque, but he remains quiet and watchful for the remainder of their lunch, and Shino gets the feeling there's a glacier of feeling resting beneath what Shikamaru chooses to show.

Then again, he reminds himself, that's hardly a change from the usual.

"Am I in trouble or something?"

Jiraiya queries, legs crossed over one of their breakfast chairs. He smells vaguely of jasmine soap and peach blossom, though he's still grimy and disheveled from travel, which means even though he seems to have spent a great deal of time near a bathhouse, he's yet to actually take one.

Kakashi sighs and sets a cup of steaming green tea at on the counter in front of him. "If Iruka had been the one to catch you here, you would be."

Jiraiya's eyebrows tuck up into his shaggy white hairline. "He come around here often, kid?"

Kakashi rolls his eyes so hard Jiraiya's surprised they don't actually pop out of his skull. "Not for the reason you're thinking."

The sage throws his hands up in surrender and goes to pick up his tea, blowing softly. "What's Umino's problem with me?" He asks, failing, as he usually does, to read the tension in the air, the subtle pull of stress along Kakashi's shoulders as he turns back across the kitchen. He smacks his own teacup down onto the opposite counter with more force than necessary, the sound bringing Jiraiya's attention towards him sharply.

"I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count."

There's more anger in the statement than he intended, and Jiraiya has the grace to flinch like he's been struck.

"...I'll admit I walked into that."

Kakashi sighs again, decides not to dig into the wound right now. "Where have you been, exactly?"

Jiraiya grimaces, drops a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Been around, ya know, not as far out as the sagelands this time, dropped in a little more local."

"So spying." Kakashi surmises.

"Of course."

"Anything I ought to know?"

The old man tilts his head, a wish-wash gesture that means he's hedging his answer. "20 Questions?"

Kakashi rumbles, mildly irritated. "I get to start."

Jiraiya concedes to that easily enough. "Fair. Ask away."

"Kiri's current political state." He demands.

Jiraiya almost snorts tea up his oversized nose. "Not going easy are you?"

Kakashi cocks his hip against the counter across from him and crosses his arms, eyebrow raised. Jiraiya coughs nervously.

"Well to start, I'd say the climate is about as stable as wet rice paper and as calm as a sack of cats."

Kakashi's second eyebrow joins his first.

The sage sighs and takes a long sip of tea. "Yes, it's that bad. Has been for a while now, ever since their last Kage dropped off the map, the vultures have been ripping each other's throats out for his throne. Almost a dozen 'Kage' have been on and ripped off in the last few years. That changed a few months ago though."

Kakashi's focus sharpens. "How so?"

But Jiraiya ticks a thick boned finger back and forth. "Uh-uh, my turn, wolf."

Kakashi snorts, shoves one hand into his pocket and sets the other at his hip. "Then ask ."

Jiraiya pauses before he does; it's not like Kakashi to be this obviously agitated– he feels like he's missed some sort of elephant in the room, and he knows he's been gone for a long while, neglected some things he really shouldn't have, but nothing, so far as he knows, that would garner this kind of reaction. The fact that it's seeping out into the lightning-brats behaviour around all the Anbu layers means what he's missed is probably less an elephant and more a whale.

"What's provoked the change of scenery?" Jiraiya asks, letting a hand sweep the room. It's clean but obviously lived in, far more so than the kid's apartment ever seemed, warm in a way Kakashi's personality usually doesn't allow for, especially given the home's dark history. He hardly recognises the place now.

"I needed more space." Kakashi drawls, purposefully vague. " How so ." He repeats with emphasis.

Jiraiya huffs and takes a sip of his tea before answering. "One of the more tenacious candidates for Mizukage found some unexpected backing, by one of the old Shichinintai no less. With the way things were looking when I left, they either have that whole bag of cats wrapped up in a neat homicidal little bow by now, or it's all rubble."

Kakashi's reaction to that piece of information is unexpected; his mouth pulls up in one corner beneath his mask, and he huffs something that might even be a laugh if it tried a little harder.

"What's so funny?" He demands.

"Is that your question?" Kakashi fires back.

Jiraiya makes a face, lowballs his next askance in retribution. "Umino live here with you?"

Kakashi's returning answer leaves him off kilter. "No . "

Jiraiya sits up, casts a long look at the living space behind him, notes the scrolls and stacks of paper, the weaponry and open books. "Bullshit."

Kakashi gives him a dead-eyed stare that indicates anything but. "That is the second time I've answered that question. Do I need to inform Sarutobi senility has struck you first?"

"Hells, you too, huh?" Jiraiya grumps at the jab. "First Shiranui snipes me, then Shikaku scares the damn hair off my head, and then Yuhi slams my nose in a door."

Kakashi shrugs, uncaring and unrepentant. "Kurenai's never liked you."

"That's not the point, it's like the whole damn village wants my head on a pike."

The eye smile Kakashi gives him in return lacks all sincerity and is, frankly, chilling. "Funny how that works isn't it?" he hums. "How long are you here for?"

Jiraiya sets his head in his hand, elbow planted on the counter as he eyes the tension in the kid's frame. "Long enough to give my report and check on the kid, if I ever get the chance. The old-timer wants me to look in on the seal too, make sure it's holding."

"Hmm." Is the brat's only response, and Jiraiya narrows his eyes at him. Kakashi ignores him, doesn't elaborate.

"Alright then, how many Gennin Packs has the Hokage thrown at you while I've been gone?" He teases with a grin, trying to lighten the mood some from the distinct dip and right turn its taken off the track. The stories of Kakashi's rather spectacular string of failed academy students almost always prove to be entertaining in some form, but it seems that this day is just destined to fail to meet Jiraiya's expectations.

"Just the one."

Kakashi's response is simple and short, but somehow the words carry a kind of gravity he doesn't quite understand, heavy with meaning despite the deliberate lightness of Kakashi's tone, and one by one, things begin to click into place.

Jiraiya straightens, gives the room another sweep of his gaze, takes in everything small and large, remembers the date of that bloody night, counts back the years on mental fingers...

"Ah." Kakashi drawls, tone patronizing. "Now he gets it."

"Wait, the Sarutobi gave you…"

"Mhm."

"Even after the…"

"Yep."

Jiraiya turns toward the door, turns back. "Does that mean…"

Kakashi taps the kitchen clock with a knuckle. "In sixteen seconds." He remarks coolly. "You're in Sakura's chair."

The last statement is presented with all the weight and finality of a godsdamned death sentence , and Jiraiya has been making fun of the brat for long enough to know that Kakashi doesn't make threats, he makes promises .

He leaps up from his perch just as the door to the Hatake main house thuds open. He doesn't hear the patter of feet however, and promptly jumps when three bodies appear in the kitchen without warning, chakra running high, and Jiraiya well and truly gets it.

Kakashi's Genin team consists of a stern-faced and ridgid looking young man, dark haired and fair skinned and clearly Uchiha; a kunoichi with rosy hair and hard-set shoulders; and… Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto.

Jiraiya is suddenly, painfully reminded why he's been such a coward.

Naruto is hardly a kid anymore, thirteen now, but even so the brat doesn't even look his age; the rest of his shoulders is easy, the confidence in his own body is clear, both hands resting the the pockets of his simple training pants. His eyes are clear blue, almost Minato's but not quite, a shade and a half too dark, with a ring around the outside that– while he doesn't remember being present in Minato's eyes, had been very clear in Kushina's. His hair isn't quite the same either, still bright and gilded yes but also richer somehow, maybe traces of red in the right light.

The boy meets his eyes and frowns slightly, blinking in slight confusion, and his stance shifts warily.

"Who the hell are you?" The kunoichi barks at him, a hand planted on her hip, green eyes sharp. There's something in her posture that pings off a very old and ingrained set of survival instincts, though at the moment he can't fathom why she makes him so damned nervous that he nearly flinches .

"Cubs, this is Jiraiya." Kakashi introduces mildly, even as Jiraiya's eye tracks back towards Naruto, wonders how the kid can look so much like Minato and yet so incredibly different–

Kakashi kicks him in the back of the ankle. Hard .

Jiraiya sucks in a breath but just manages not to yelp, casting a glare sideways at the wolf only to be met by a hard stare in return.

" Jiraiya is going to stay for dinner." Kakashi declares. "And we're all going to have a little talk ."

Naruto has never been in a silence this damn loaded before. It's like he's standing in a room wallpapered in exploding tags and hung with trigger wire– one wrong move might set the whole thing off.

Sakura and Sasuke flank him, their silence stony after nearly an hour of heated arguments and rushed explanations. Kakashi-sensei has clearly elected to stay out of the matter almost entirely, only stepping in when it's required to keep things from getting physical, mostly on Sakura's end.

As it is she's broken two sets of chopsticks trying to finish her udon, and Sasuke…

Well. If looks could kill.

Naruto himself hasn't talked much, just asked the occasional question, and unlike his teammates, he's not actually angry with Jiraiya, he's confused.

The emotional cocktail radiating off the old man is so layered and complex it's starting to give him a migraine; shame– both musty-old and acidic-fresh– grief, wonder, sweet-citrus joy mixed with the bitter tang of failure. The old sage is conflicted, for a lot of reasons he hasn't said, but if Naruto tracks the questions he dodged and not the ones he answered, it begins to paint a pretty clear picture.

"He blames himself, doesn't he?" he asks Kurama, who's been curled up close with his consciousness all day. "For not being here when my parents died."

~He blames himself for a lot of things, kit. Not that it forgives much.~

"Why though? Why did he leave, then?"

~Fear, I imagine.~

"That's not an excuse."

~No it isn't.~

Naruto looks Jiraiya over again, takes another breath through his nose to judge. Below all the complex waves of negative emotion Naruto can sense genuine concern and interest in his well being, and while Naruto isn't interested in having a godfather– he has two parents already far better than this old pervert could hope to be– the guy is one of the legendary Sannin.

"So the old man sent you here to check on my seal?" Naruto asks, promptly taking a bite of his Udon after the question leaves his mouth.

Jiraiya hesitates in his answer, eyes skittering over his teammates and Kakashi-sensei in quick succession. "Just a peek." He admits after a few seconds. "To makes sure your 'passenger' is still snug."

Sasuke tenses next to him and Sakura snaps another pair of chopsticks. Naruto ignores them both for now, even as Kurama chuckles in the back of his head.

~ Boy he in for a surprise. ~

"I have a condition." Naruto says bluntly.

"A condi–" the old man starts, confused, but cuts off sharply with a hiss when Kakashi kicks him hard under the table.

Sasuke looks sideways at Naruto, a question in his eyes after he notes the lack of anger in his friend's.

Naruto shrugs, smiles crookedly. "It doesn't matter, right?"

Sasuke blinks, then smiles softly and huffs out a breath. "Of course."

Sakura snorts to their left. "That's the truth." Then she turns back to the Sannin. "I'd take what you can get, you old pervert."

Jiraiya smiles, strained, and holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright, you win, kid. What do you want on my end?"

Naruto looks sideways at Sakura, then back at Sasuke, and then meets the Sannin's eyes straight on.

"My dad's signature jutsu, Flying Thunder God . I want you to teach it to us."

Jiraiya looks like he'd have been less surprised if they'd smacked him in the face with a carp.

He gapes, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. "You're thirteen how do you even know that that is ?"

Kakashi clears his throat pointedly.

Jiraiya eyes him, alarmed, then turns back to Naruto, tone placating. "That's an S rank jutsu, kid. I can't even make it work consistently– hell, only two people in the world ever could, and both were Kage ."

"But you know the mechanics of it, right?" Sakura counters. "You could teach us the basics of how it should work?"

Jiraiya balks. "I mean I could yeah, but you'd need at least journeyman's experience in sealing to even understand the basics."

"What's your point?" Sasuke demands, crossing his arms archly and sitting back in his chair. "If sealing knowledge were the issue we would have asked for that."

Jiraiya's face screws up at the implication, attention snapping to Kakashi again for an explanation.

Their sensei just shrugs, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't look at me. This wouldn't be the first time they've pulled off an S-rank."

Naruto leans across the table, grinning like a fox in a henhouse, and Jiraiya's attention snaps back.

"So," he asks, deceptively mild, with all the toothy edge of a predator. "We got a deal?"

The night before the final rounds of the exams, Ikari-sensei runs a final diagnostic on Sasuke's chakra systems. They're sitting out back on the deck facing the garden, chakra lanterns lit to drape the space in soft multicoloured lights.

Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei are on the other side of the porch, discussing the exams and village status over warm cups of tea while Iruka-sensei does his grading.

Sasuke sits shirtless next to Naruto, Ikari-san and Sakura talking lowly while the surgeon runs the assessment jutsu over Sasuke's back. It showcases the assortment of seals etched over his skin, the dark shimmering lines reflecting the colours in the spectral lights.

For Naruto, wearing the wrappings over his arms and hands is a necessary habit, so they're present now, the seal lines in them reflecting an entirely different spectrum. Sasuke trails his eyes over them as he leans back, irises tinting faintly red to take in the complexes of chakra too delicate for normal senses.

Naruto grins and clicks his tongue."I told you jerk, it's a surprise."

Sasuke huffs, but his eyes slip back to their normal ebony just as easy. "Hardly fair, you've already seen mine."

Naruto's grin brightens, eyes sparkling. "Hell yeah I did, that dash of lighting in your taijutsu? That Kumo-nin's lucky not to be breathing out of a tube."

The Uchiha shrugs lazily. "If I hadn't held back he'd have broken more than his ribs."

Naruto snorts. "If you hadn't held back he'd be dead . Where did you get the idea? Kakashi-sensei?"

Sasuke nods, turning to look back out at the gardens, eyes scanning the smattering of trees that hug the cliffline just before it drops off. The view is spectacular– this far away from the village the stars are a bright river of light above their heads, and even the lanterns don't dim their shine much. The height of the cliff face means that the sight stretches all the way to the horizon, where the river of celestial bodies disappears behind the dark edges of the mountains.

"You're up first tomorrow." he adds.

Naruto nods, "Yep, and you can wait that long for my surprise, jerk."

"Hn." Sasuke hums, and then turns to look at him again. "It's your fight with Neji. The one where you're making your point for the test."

Naruto's smile turns sly in response. "You bet it is."

Sasuke's returning smirk has an edge of teeth.

Ikari-sensei interrupts their moment with a frustrated growl, drawing the attention of both boys towards him.

"Well that doesn't sound good." Sasuke drawls.

Ikari-sensei snorts harshly. "Ease off the salt for two seconds, shrimp, this is serious."

"How serious?" Naruto demands immediately, directing the question at Ikari and Sakura both. Sakura answers.

"Corruption levels in his system are still above acceptable usage levels for ninjutsu." Her tone is frustrated and concerned in equal measures, and she gets up for a few steps to settle in on Sasuke's other side, reaching automatically for his wrist. "Twenty-eight percent."

"Shit." Sasuke growls, but still gives his wrist over without thought, and she checks through his routine vitals easy as habit. Naruto leans in a little closer, eyeing the spot where Sasuke's cursed seal rested only two weeks ago. The scar from the bite mark where it was removed is still pink and raw, and despite there being no danger of chakra confliction in Sasuke's system anymore, he's chosen to let it heal naturally.

He'd been dodgy about the actual reasoning behind the decision, but Sakura had let it go easily enough, so Naruto hadn't pressed.

If I'd figured it out sooner he would've been recovered by now. He can't help thinking, but its like Sasuke senses the thought before it even finishes going through his head, and for an alarming second Naruto wonders if he can actually read his mind.

"Don't even start." he snaps.

Naruto scowls. "I didn't say anything!"

Sasuke just rolls his eyes. "You didn't have to, dumbass, it's all over your face."

"He's right." Sakura pipes in unhelpfully. "You got the thing off in the first place, and this shit would have been a lot worse without the filtration seal."

Sasuke smacks his leg sideways and then turns to lean back against Naruto's shoulder in an easy shift, the posture familiar and grounding. He closes his eyes, uncaring of the other people around them. "I'm fine, idiot." he murmurs. "The rest is just details."

Naruto concedes the point with a smile both irritated and fond, and Sakura smiles smugly right back at him, teeth flashing like a shark's.

"Ryouta? What's the verdict?"

The question comes from Iruka-sensei, who, along with Kakashi-sensei, has made his way over to them, teacup still cradled in one hand.

Ikari sits back as he finishes resealing his supplies. "Technically he's cleared for competition, if he avoids using ninjutsu."

"What would happen if I did use it?" Sasuke asks, opening his eyes to watch the surgeon, but not sitting up from his lean. "Theoretically."

Ikari-sesei raises his eyebrow as if to say ' theoretically' my ass . "Your symptoms would return with a vengeance." he says sharply, "your body is still trying to clear the crap out with fresh chakra. Use up too much and the corruption will crawl right back up through your vessels and muck everything up to hell."

"Will he have to drop the match?" Iruka asks, pragmatic and concerned. It's Kakashi who answers.

"That's up to him." He declares, gentle but firm, and locks eyes with their Uchiha. "You know the risks by now, Sasuke. What do you want to do?"

Sasuke's eyes go steely. "I want to fight."

Naruto is surprised not at all .

"Then ninjutsu is your last resort." Kakashi's tone brooks no argument whatsoever, and Sasuke nods firmly.

"Yes, sensei."

"Kakashi…" Iruka starts, but their sensei stops him with a gentle shake of his head.

"He's an adult, and responsible enough to make the decision. It's his choice."

Even though the comment is soft, not meant for Sasuke at all, Naruto notices he flushes a little with pride, blinks a little too fast in embarrassment.

Iruka huffs and glares half-heartedly, but doesn't argue further.

"All that being said," Ryouta points out, eyeing Sasuke, "I see any sign of Blackvein or coagulation, I'm pulling you, end of story. Clear?"

Sasuke rolls his eyes again, because he's a shit like that, but nods consent. "Yeah, whatever."

Iruka-sensei and Ikari-san leave not long after, both citing early morning responsibilities, and Sakura ribs Ikari to get some of his paperwork done before the world ends; his reply to which is a shuriken she promptly snatches out of the air and throws right back at him. The surgeon catches it over his shoulder without looking and turns to send her a glare, half fond and half exasperated. When he turns away again, his parting words are almost grudging.

"Show 'em what you're made of, squirt."

"You better be watching me you old coot!" She calls after him. "I'm gonna tear that ring apart!"

The corners of Ikari's mouth quirk up a little. "Then that will be the least surprising thing I see tomorrow." He counters, and then ducks out the door.

They don't go to bed just yet though, even with the exam finals so close. Instead, Kakashi-sensei douses the chakra lanterns and turns off the light in the kitchen, and the four of them sit together on the flat boulder by the cliff edge in the soft drape of darkness, watching the stars.

Sakura lies back with Naruto at Kakashi-sensei's feet, and together they point out constellations and arcs of light, noting navigation points and lines, tracing their own shapes in the scattering of celestial bodies. Sasuke is tired, so he's leaning tucked against Kakashi's side, head on his shoulder with his arms crossed and their sensei's arm around him in easy support.

They've discovered he gets like this when he's not feeling so hot, when the corruption makes him nauseous or fatigued. He doesn't act much different in public, but when it's just the four of them, or sometimes even just them and the other rookie nine, he picks one of the team to rest on. Usually it's her and– more often– Naruto, but Kakashi-sensei is by far no exception.

"Whatcha thinkin about?" She asks Naruto after a long while of silence, just staring at the sky.

"The look on Hinata's face before the prelims." Naruto answers in his normal blunt honesty. It still makes her warm inside sometimes, that he doesn't see the point in hiding anything from her, that he trusts her with all his thoughts in their rawest form. She likes helping him work through them; Naruto sees and feels things differently than she does, from different angles and perspectives. Some of it's because he can sense emotion so easily, like a scent in the air he'd told her once, some of it's because he's so accepting and non discriminant of the world at large. Makes it easy for him to see the big picture of things, meanings and ideals and how they all fit together, but harder for him to work out details and practicality.

Sakura sees things more black and white, more action than intent, and she gets social clues and workings better than he does. It makes them a fantastic operational team– she can point out details and aspects he misses in the overarching scheme, and he can broaden her perspective when she starts slipping into stubborn hammer-and-nail tactics in which she is the hammer and all the things around her narrow down to nails. That usually only happens when she's ticked off though, and Naruto's good at pulling her out of that kind of funk too.

"That all?" She asks.

He shakes his head. "Seen that look before. Used to wear it a lot."

"Before us?" She wonders.

He nods again. He isn't looking at her, he's still looking at the stars, arms crossed into a cushion beneath his head, but he doesn't look upset, just contemplative. "It's the kind of look you get when no matter how loud you scream, you know no one's going to listen."

Sakura nods, understanding, even though her temper flares a little. Hinata doesn't deserve that, and Naruto certainly didn't either.

She looks back at the stars too. "You gonna make them listen?"

Naruto nods. Once. Firm. "Starting with Neji."

Sakura huffs, but her grin is as wide as it gets. "Think you can make the stubborn ass change his tune?"

"Hinata makes him nervous." Naruto says. "She's trying to change things, things he's convinced can't change, but he's bitter at his clan too. Problem is he won't step down off his pedestal long enough to know what it's like to fight for something from the ground up."

Sakura nods. "Hinata said he's caught up in his 'destiny.' I think he's just pissed that he's a 'prodigy' and Hinata isn't, but because of their stupid branch family shit it doesn't matter."

"'An eagle trapped in a songbird's cage.'" Naruto quotes. "That's what Shikamaru said."

"Shika's pretty smart." She agrees, which ends up being funny, because Shika's pretty smart like the sky is pretty big. She looks back at her teammate. "If anyone can knock some sense into him it's you."

Naruto does turn to look at Sakura now, beaming her a smile. She shoots one right back.

His smile softens, returns to contemplative. "I don't think he's as much of an asshole as he lets on anyway." he says idly.

"How do you figure?"

"Remember that reaming Tenten gave him? After Lee got carted off by the medics?" Sakura nods to indicate she knows what he's talking about. "He was radiating worry the whole time, right up until Gai told them he should make a full recovery."

Sakura blinks in surprise. "He didn't look it. At all."

Naruto nods. "I know. If I didn't have an extra sense I wouldn't have noticed. But I could smell it clear across the arena."

Sakura shrugs. "Okay, so he's not a complete asshole. You're still gonna kick his ass, right?"

"Duh."

Sasuke listens to his teammates talk right up until they fall asleep, as comfortable lying back on the rock as they would be on a plush fuuton. It is, as Sasuke has found, all about the company.

There's an idea that's been chasing it's way around his head over the last few months, growing and rolling around in his chest, day after day. It's settled at the bottom of his throat now, pressing for him to say it out loud, to confirm either the fear or the hope.

He remembers his father, stern hands on his shoulders, eyes that looked past or through him as much at they looked at him. He remembers his mother, whose kindness and comfort came often, but was practiced and distracted, hollow around her duties and her oldest son.

Kakashi doesn't put his hands on the tops of his shoulders, he puts them on the sides, not holding, but steadying, giving strength, not forcing it. He never looks past Sasuke, his eyes stick, hold, whether it's for chastisement or praise. He acknowledges, looks Sasuke right in the eye every time. He says what he means, good or bad, but there's no lecturing, no expectation. He corrects, he guides , and never says a word of praise that hasn't been hard won. His comfort is never empty words, its nods or quiet questions or a ruffle of his hair.

Sasuke has been realizing over the course of months and months, that Kakashi is a better parent to him than both his birth ones had ever been. He still misses them, but he no longer aches for a mother and father he can hardly remember. He no longer needs them; in Kakashi and Naruto and Sakura, he has something better.

It's a frightening, private thing, something he thinks, hopes , his sensei will understand.

"Kakashi-sensei."

His teacher turns to look down at him, single eye bright and unassuming in the sparse starlight. "Hm?"

"We're a family, right?"

Kakashi stills completely. He looks down into his student's face, and Sasuke's expression is expectant, hopeful even, and Kakashi's ribs constrict with emotion.

He's considered them his for a long time already, his to care for, his to teach and guide, his to protect . But that word, family , has been taboo in his mind for far longer, something he'd found and lost so many times he stopped daring to wish for it.

But then again, he's not the only one here who had a family and lost it.

If Sasuke– trauma filled and once so bitter with loss he could hardly breathe around it– can look to him and say that word without flinching, earnest and hopeful , then the least Kakashi can do is the same.

"In every way but blood." he murmurs, and he means that, with everything that he is.

Sasuke nods once, quickly, like he expected the answer but needed to hear it spoken aloud. His eyes grow glassy, misted with tears he's always been too stubborn and proud to let drop. He curls a little closer though, an elbow from his still crossed arms digging into his ribs, but Kakashi would rather leave it until it bruised him than move an inch.

And then Sasuke says, soft as a whisper; "Who cares about blood anyway?"

Kakashi tightens his arm around his charge, squeezes as hard as he dares, and feels his own eyes cloud and burn. "Whatever happens tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice as steady as he can make it, "I'm proud of you."

Sasuke doesn't answer but he curls in further, tucking his head under Kakashi's chin.

He doesn't mention the dampness he begins to feel against his shirt, he just dips his head and holds even tighter.

Tenten finds him outside Lee's hospital room.

He hasn't actually gone in of course, the stubborn ass, but he's leaning against the wall just outside, stiff as a board to the left of the doorway.

"You could actually go inside, you know." She points out. "Like a normal human being."

Neji snorts and doesn't answer, but he does peek a little into the room, like he's been thinking about it. Or waiting for an excuse.

Tenten rolls her eyes and shoves what's in her hands into his chest. "Gai-sensei says we need to stop bitching at each other."

Neji almost drops the package for the sheer weight of it, and knows immediately what he's holding despite the colourful green and gold wrapping paper. "New limb weights? Gai-sensei's idea, I assume."

Tenten huffs, heavy and put-upon. "Mine actually. Just sign the damn card." She hesitates for another half second, and then adds; "I'm sorry I called you a self-righteous prick."

Neji sighs, and it's like air released from a balloon. He hates fighting with Tenten, as often as it tends to happen. They're both strong willed, both impossibly stubborn, but he respects her like he respects few others in his life, and he'd much rather have her at his back than at his throat.

"I'm sorry I called you an over-sympathetic fool." He returns, accepting the olive branch.

The corner of her mouth ticks up a little, and he acknowledges that as the victory it is. She smacks the back of his shoulder with the front of her own when he turns, a show of the physical form of comraderie she knows irritates him, that also serves to crowd him towards the actual doorway. "Come on Nej', we should to make sure he hasn't tried to hand-walk out of bed yet."

Lee is, of course, unnecessarily ecstatic to see them. He has also, according to the on duty nurse, attempted to climb out the window no fewer than six times despite his still rather severely damaged ankle and the fact that his arm has only just managed to set properly.

"I feel just as youthful as ever! I wish to see our fellow ninja display their vigour for life!" Is his excuse, when Tenten has to wrestle him back into bed a seventh time.

"There is nothing youthful about broken ribs, Lee." Tenten argues back.

His returning pout is positively heartbroken.

Neji manages to distract him with upcoming lineups for the final portion of the exams, which are set to start in a few hours. Neji himself has already made his preparations, despite Tenten's accusations that he's not taking this seriously.

"I'm aware of Uzumaki's track record." he defends. "Such a repetitive failure won't exactly be much of a threat to my victory."

"Pretty sure that what you said about your last fight, too." Tenten snipes, and Neji suppresses the urge to flinch.

Frustration and shame burn through his veins like a shot of adrenaline, still so fresh in his mind even two weeks past the event. His fight against Shikamaru had been absolutely humiliating . To spend so much time and energy only to never land a single blow, to reach the end only to realize that the Nara had be playing him from the start …

He'd known Nara were intelligent, naturally gifted tactitions, but they were also supposed to be lazy , underachievers, not prone to purposeful engagement in one on one combat when their talents lay elsewhere, in battlefield control and subterfuge.

But Shikamaru…

He can still remember the flashes of fiery challenge in his eyes, the careless skill and incredible speed, a focus that was anything but lazy.

It still infuriated him, just thinking about it.

He has to take a deep breath through his nose before he can respond calmly. "This is different."

"Sure it is." Tenten mutters sarcastically, reclining back next to Lee on his hospital bed. Lee makes room for her happily, eating through another cup of hospital rice pudding, which of course Lee would enjoy.

"I won't be caught unprepared this time, Tenten." He insists.

She hums, disbelieving, and then holds up a hand to him, fingers curled, pinky extended. Neji eyes it with distaste.

"No."

Lee makes a disapproving noise. "It's a serious oath, my friend."

"What's the matter?" Tenten goads, wiggling her finger at him. "Too childish for the big bad Hyuuga?"

Neji groans but reaches out, curling his little finger around hers. The way she and Lee beam makes it worth it, somewhat.

"Bring your A-game Nej'." Tenten demands.

Neji nods.

Lee drops his pudding and reaches around, somehow managing to wrap his pinky around both of theirs. "I would expect nothing less from my rival!"

Neji turns to him, fighting a smile. "If I also promise to give you a play-by-play when we return, will you promise to stay in bed?"

Lee bobs his head exuberantly. "On my honour!"

"This is a lot of hype for an exam." Sakura notes as they enter the stand-by area of the arena, arms tucked behind her head.

"The third stage serves as more than just a test for the participants." Kakashi-sensei informs her as they make their way towards the curved bleachers. "It's a chance for the host village to showcase their abilities to those attending."

"So it's both showing off and a method of deterrent." Sasuke concludes, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Kakashi-sensei's hand on his shoulder would have startled or irritated him if it had come from anyone else, but the brief and gentle squeeze is familiar instead, and conveys their sensei's approval and affirmation in a way words would never be capable of.

Kakashi nods. "As such, not only will the Kage's of the participating villages be attending, but several of their guards and captains." He gives Sakura's back a pat. "Do try not to step on anyone's toes too badly, yes?"

"Yes sensei." They both agree simultaneously as they enter the stadium.

Kakashi nods again, satisfied.

And then something changes.

In the thin slant of shadow cast by the archway, in the shallow slice of liminal space between the empty calm of the waiting area and the bright roar of the stands, Kakashi leans down, tone dropping from warm and casual into something steely, something low and icily calm; "Wide Awake."

Sakura and Sasuke both still completely, frozen between one step and the next, thoughts halted in their tracks. For a long second the moment stretches through mud, one second made to feel like twenty, and the words register fully.

Kakashi-sensei straightens, they pass from shadow into light, and the moment breaks. Time restarts.

Sakura turns as they part, waving goodbye to their sensei as he turns to make his way to the Hokage's side, as though her heart is not jackhammering in her chest. Sasuke gives him an acknowledging nod as well, even though he has yet to start breathing again. They make their way to the section of the stands reserved for the participants and their teammates and lean together against the railing to make a show of watching the proctors prepare the arena.

Sakura speaks first, careful to keep her posture and tone casual and bright. "Why would he tell us that now, when Naruto is already down prepping for his fight with Neji?"

"Because Naruto can sense trouble coming long before its starts. And because he's still a terrible liar." Sasuke counters, and makes a point to finally take a breath.

Wide Awake .

It's a trigger word, one of several Kakashi has taught them over the course of their training, meant to convey the state of an entire situation in only a few sly syllables. They're unique to the four of them, meant to help integrate team seven into the ninja arts of secrecy and subterfuge, and used as a method to keep each other safe in delicate and precarious situations.

The meaning is clear. Danger. Caution. Nature of the threat is unknown. Watch every approach.

Sakura turns to lean back casually on the railing, smiling like he said something funny, bringing a hand up as if to stifle a laugh. She's by far the best of them at this, at subtle distracting cues to divert attention and shield spoken words from lip readers, and without knowing her, seeing the upfront brashness of her attitude, you'd never expect it. "We should warn Shika and the others." She giggles. "We need as many sets of eyes as we can get."

"A united front." Sasuke agrees, keeping the movements of his mouth minimal as he speaks. They don't know the extent of the threat, but given subtleness and suddenness of the warning, he'd bet that Kakashi-sensei either doesn't know much, or can't tell them much , the later of which is far more likely. Sasuke tracks back through their conversation, the way he'd mentioned the politics of the exam; try not to step on anyone's toes he'd said.

Tread carefully , he'd meant.

The situation is precarious. Two foreign Kages are present in the stands, both of which were once bitter enemies of the Leaf. Not to mention the slippery missing-nin that might still be lurking around in the shadows, a man they'd found out after the preliminaries was a Sannin with a hell of a bone to pick.

And speaking of Sannin…

"You know where the hell the old man got to?" he asks, and Sakura's immediate scowl tells him exactly what she thinks about the topic.

"Anko-san is on pervert watching duty. Something about wanting to be able to drag him in if Orochimaru's head pops up from between the floorboards."

Sasuke nods. "Not much to do now but watch and wait."

They drop the facade then, as casually as they brought it up in the first place, and scan the stands for their friends.

The arena is already filled to bursting with civilians, hundreds of Konoha natives and huge pockets of people from the surrounding civilian settlements under the Daimyo, all come to gawk at the tournament. For many, tournaments like this are their only glimpse into the life of the shinobi, into the culture of the strongest military force in the Land of Fire, and they treat the event with awe and respect, wide-eyed in the strange surroundings. But to the the natives of the village it's akin to a celebrated sports festival; people bet and rally behind their favorite participants, take sides and shout encouragement or jeers.

It's clear when the announcements begin that Neji is the favorite for this match, for reasons that still make Sasuke's blood boil even now. Sasuke's anger in this is a quiet thing, a heat simmering in his veins, slow burning and deep. Naruto had brushed their hatred off his shoulders like dead leaf matter and dust, shown the strength and veracity of his heart and forgiven.

Sasuke will not.

Sakura only notices his fury now because she shares it, though she controls it better, understands it better.

But there are times when Sasuke's fury in this knows no reason.

They know nothing about him. They know nothing about who he is, what he's had to do, what he's had to overcome, what they've made him overcome. They don't deserve to walk the same ground as he does .

He takes smug satisfaction in knowing their 'understanding' of Uzumaki Naruto is about to be flipped upside-down and thrown in a blender.

Sakura brings him out of his thoughts with a tap to the shoulder, and he looks up when Sakura holds out a clear glass bottle, the liquid inside shimmering softly in the light. "That time again." She sing-songs.

He groans, but takes the chakra cleanser anyway, unscrewing the lid and taking three long swallows. Sakura takes it from him when he's done, and takes his vitals again while they settle in and wait for the match to begin.

"Are you still hung up on losing to bug-boy?"

Kankuro turns to glare at his sister over his shoulder, and resists the urge to stick his tongue out at her. He's allowed to be grumpy about it if he wants– he'd been looking forward to testing out his skills against the array of new competitors, to analyzing the difference in styles and techniques found in Konohagakure.

And then he'd gone up against one of the ninja in black.

The Rookie Nine , as they're called here. He'd had his suspicions about them since the start of the second phase of the exam; the way they held themselves, the way they walked and spoke and interacted, with a flavor of presence and confidence so out of place it was almost funny. Their cumulative success in the first session of the exam could be easily enough passed off as home-field advantage, but then the way they'd talked together later, the way they'd been addressed , particularly by ninja of higher rank, indicated there was something far more than luck and familiarity at work.

And then there was the incident in the deadly forest, the conversations he'd overheard in the tower and picked up though his puppets later. They'd been attacked, attacked by someone whose name the Leaf-nin seemed fearful to even mention, and Kankuro's attention had been readily and thoroughly captured.

He'd prepared after that, been sure to keep his eyes open and his senses razor sharp when he'd entered the arena against the shade-wearing Genin in black, against Aburame Shino.

In the end it hadn't mattered.

Shino's tactics had been masterful, Kankuro is self-aware enough to admit that much.

A combination of water jutsu and acid had eaten through the metal mechanics of his puppets, burrowing insects weakening the wood. He'd kept his distance from both puppet and master, fallen for none of his traps, and executed fine hewed sensory illusions that had disrupted his reflexes just enough to be fatal.

He likes to think it was a close match, but he also has a sinking feeling his opponent had been holding back a little.

Amburame had been cool and calm, hadn't gloated or jeered with victory. He'd bowed, respectful and polite, thanked him for both the honor of the battle and the challenge specifically, and offered to use his woodworking beatles to repair some of the damage to his puppet.

Kankuro had declined, partly out of surprise at how offhandedly genuine the offer seemed, and partly out of pride; his puppets are his, painstakingly constructed and modified by his own hands. He'll fix them the same way.

But Aburame had taken it in good grace and left without another word, not a goad or remark left in his wake, and Kankuro had taken leaf-nin for a lot of things, but not polite .

Temari leans against the railing next to him. His lack of answer is answer enough, so she indulges in a teasing poke to his ribs. "Don't look so glum, there's always next time."

"Not really what I'm worried about. Besides," He straightens, scanning the stands until he finds who he's looking for. "I get the feeling winning or losing was luck of the draw."

Aburame is standing across the participant section of the stands, at the shoulder of his Hyuuga teammate. Despite the heat he's still wearing a long sleeve jacket with a collar that comes up past his chin– Kankuro suspects it has something to do with his bizzare Kekkei Genkai– and he's helping his other companion with some of his equipment– straightening harnesses, checking fastenings and the like. The other boy submits to it with ill grace, fidgeting and inevitably extending the process, but Aburame is patient, focused, and bats his fellow shinobi's hands away when he attempts to undo his work. This must be par for the course given the way their Hyuuga is giggling behind her hand at the display, and not for the first time he's fascinated by the dynamic between the shinobi in black– they defy one of the first rules the Sand ever taught him about strength– that attachment is weak, that teammates are useful tools to accomplish tasks, but nothing compared to the mission itself.

But it seems Konoha boasts some of the strongest young shinobi he's ever seen, and not only do the ninja in black clearly care for one another, but they also seem to have no qualms openly showing as much– normally such a thing would be a broadcasted weakness, a display of what can hurt you. But it's not as though the ninja in black don't seem to understand that; it's more like disregard, like faith, like a taunt . It's not that they don't know it can be used against them, it's that they don't care .

We're not ashamed of what we love . Is what it seems to say. Try to take it from us, and you'll see just how strong that love makes us.

"Match is starting." Temari informs him, and Kankuro repurposes his attention, directing it towards the center of the arena. The fight is between Uzumaki Naruto and Hyuuga Neji; the older Hyuuga not counted among the ninja in black.

"So," Temari gestures to the participants and crosses her arms again. "What do you think?"

Kankuro tips his head and rubs his chin as he surveys the two shinobi while they wait for the proctor. Hyuuga Neji's prelim fight had been memorable– a bout to the time limit that had given Kankuro a good impression of his admittedly impressive abilities. But Uzumaki Naruto…

"To be honest? I have no idea how it might go. I missed the bright blond's match entirely."

Temari groans. "You too?"

"Must have been short." Kankuro affirms, then narrows his eyes. "His teammate's match was short too."

One of Temari's eyebrows arch. "The dark haired one? Uchiha, right? He almost put a guy through the floor."

Kankuro nods. "Could go either way, especially if Uzumaki's level is similar."

He almost doesn't notice when Gaara comes to stand a foot to his other side, and his little brother is both quiet and withdrawn, inward turned and intense, the madness a low-key itch across Kankuro's skin, and from the darkness of the bruises underneath his eyes, he's has been sleeping even less than usual.

He'd been with Baki-sensei until now, as close to his side as Gaara's sand augmented 'personal space' ever allows him to be, and he wonders if Gaara's worsening insomnia has anything to do with their rather abrupt change in plans.

He'd never tell Temari this, but he's… glad they're no longer attacking this village. He likes the atmosphere here and for all its flaws (too damp, too clear, too soft around the edges), he likes the camaraderie, the ease, even the green that creeps up every corner and drapes the space between every building.

He does not want a war with this place.

The proctor shows, a lean man with shoulder length hair and amber eyes, a long steel senbon held in his mouth like a toothpick.

He starts the match.

To Kankuro's mild surprise, the fight goes quickly out of Uzumaki's favor.

The Hyuuga is a great deal faster than he looks, and unlike his last fight, he seems to have the speed to keep up with blondie step for step.

And he is not pulling his punches.

Uzumaki isn't bad, that's not remotely it– he blocks or dodges the majority of the blows that come his way and even returns with a few of his own, but the Hyuuga's hits are devastating , he can practically feel the release of yang chakra with every blow, and no matter how strong you are, no one can take that kind of pressure for very long.

And then things start getting weird .

The match has been going on for nearly twenty minutes, and almost every voice in the stands rings for Hyuuga Neji as though the dark haired shinobi has already won.

But something isn't right; Uzumaki has taken at least two hits so far that should have knocked him out for the count– that shoulder is definitely dislocated now if it wasn't before– but not only is Uzumaki still standing, he's still fighting , and there's something in the way he moves and counters, something in his eyes even at this distance, that makes the hair on Kankuro's arms stand on end.

"Hey Temari."

"Hm?" His sister looks up from the fight, head tilted.

"Blondie is clearly getting his ass kicked, right?"

Temari blinks, confused by the question. "That's obvious enough."

Kankuro hums and nods, rubbing his chin, and then leans forward over the railing. "Uh-huh. So tell me something." he nods his head towards the clashing ninja. "Why is moonshine the one that looks nervous?"

Temari's double take would be funny under other circumstances, but in a few seconds she sees the same thing he does– the Hyuuga's wide-eyed stare as they break apart again, the subtle tremble in his arms, the hesitation in his stance.

And when blondie's head lifts, he's the one smiling.

"Will you just stay down? "

Uzumaki straightens, works his jaw, and spits a mouthful of blood to the side. Then he merely smiles, grim, red staining sharp teeth.

It doesn't make any sense.

He's outmaneuvered, outmatched, Neji's been beating him into the ground for the better part of a hour. His knuckles and palms ache from it, the muscles in his arms burn, his chakra vessels are beginning to protest the strain of so many high level attacks in such quick succession.

And still, Uzumaki stands.

He hasn't said a word the entire fight, just fought, and stood, and fought, and stood again.

It's unnerving, the way Uzumaki is looking at him, unruffled and unafraid despite his numerous injuries, cool and calm and alert. It's making Neji's skin crawl with unease, a seventh sense that warns him something isn't right.

And then almost as an afterthought, in Neji's long moment of suspicion and hesitation, Uzumaki reaches with his working arm, and with two clinically precise motions, relocates his shoulder .

He hardly flinches as he does it, only a brief crease of pain around his eyes and a clench of teeth, and his pain tolerance must be astounding , because Neji knows he's given the other Gennin at least four cracked ribs and another dozen contusions, but the way he's moving gives away very little of that truth, hasn't even slowed him down .

"Get it yet?" Uzumaki suddenly asks, and after so long without a word the question actually startles him.

"Get what?" Neji fires back.

"Why it matters." Naruto returns immediately, and for a second he's lost, doesn't understand what it is the Uzumaki is trying to say.

But then Neji remembers something Hinata had told him, in a lull after one of their worse fights. He'd told her he didn't want her relying on people who would not take her anywhere, who would not further her abilities, and Uzumaki Naruto's name had come up.

"You have no idea how much he inspires me . " Hinata had told him, angry and cold. "I used to believe what you do, that the clan will always be what it is, that it will always beat down the many to raise up the few. She'd paused to let the words echo, to let the silence give them weight. "He made me believe that anything is possible so long as you keep going , that anything I wanted I could have if I only wanted it bad enough, fought for it hard enough." And before Neji could say anything about that, warn her not to be naive, that some things were fated never to be changed, she interrupted his thoughts. "He made me believe it, and then he proved it."

She hadn't spoken another word to him for the rest of that evening.

Is this what she meant?

He's suddenly ludicrously angry at Uzumaki, for putting those thoughts into Hinata's head, for encouraging her to believe in something that will only lead to disappointment, for opening her up to so much future hurt.

And as well as Neji conceals the anger Naruto clearly senses it anyway, with a tilt of his head and a too-knowing glance.

Neji grits his teeth, turns the tension in his face into a harsh, mirthless smile. "You still think you have a chance of winning this?" he taunts. "You're even dumber than I imagined."

"I don't think anything." Naruto returns, steady, impossibly calm. "I will win." The blond boy tilts his head, hair fanning a bit over his eyes, the movement animal-like and curious. "You still don't get it, I guess." He mutters, almost to himself, and then his words sharpen, turn taunting."Come on Neji , you're the smart one after all. The prodigy . Or does this failure get something you don't?"

Neji snorts, but that seventh sense is pinging even harder now, like a alarm in the back of his mind. Danger. Danger.

"Enlighten me, then, if you think you know something."

And Uzumaki smiles.

Neji's skin tingles with immediate apprehension, with the warning of an unseen threat, and Naruto reaches for the beginnings of the wrappings winding down his arms.

"It matters ." Naruto says firmly. "You can hit me all you want, beat me down all you want. That doesn't matter." The motions of his hands are deft despite bruises and broken knuckles as he tugs at the loops of black silk that keep the wrappings down. "But you'll never keep me down. And that? That matters. "

The wrapping comes loose at the ends and Neji's byakugan tighten reflexively at the chakra he can suddenly sense underneath.

"Because I have something to fight for, Neji." He continues. "Something I believe in." The wrappings unravel as he speaks, and Neji's eyes widen to saucers. "Do you?"

The chakra beneath the bandages is impossible , curled into fractals like ghostly crystals folding in on themselves in kaleidoscope patterns, shimmering with the distinct branched signature of concentrated lightning and the graceful swirls of wind beneath, knotted together with Yang chakra so dense it's practically solid. It emanates off patterns etched into the Uzumaki's skin, swirls of black ink in unrecognizable glyphs, almost like…

Almost like seals .

More complicated and powerful and potent than anything Neji has ever contemplated might exist.

Naruto straightens, rolls his shoulders, and flicks the wrappings with a sharp movement of the writs. They unravel completely, coasting through the air around him like coiling snakes, suspended in motion on the radiating chakra, reacting to it with seals of their very own.

"You've gotten your hits in Neji." Naruto tells him lowly. "My turn."

Chakra pulses around Naruto, concentrated, alive, reaching and feeling like nerve endings awaiting stimulus, dancing around the seals woven into the armour-silk wrappings. The two halves of the jutsu curl close but do not touch, waiting attentively for the order to become whole.

With the sharp curl of his fingers into fists, he gives it.

The chakra reacts instantaneously, sliding to move along the patterns of the seals within the silk, melding close. The armour silk twists, conforming, enfolding the chakra in sleek black, shaping it until it takes on its intended form.

The result is a single length of long twining chain, links as thick around as his wrist, gliding around his arms and shoulders like Tenne ribbon.

Chūkū Kusari.

Hollow Chain . The name is simple, straightforward, belays very little of what the technique is capable of. The chains solidify, not only aware but also hair-pin sensitive; fine-tuned to the tiniest twitches of the muscles in his arms. It's the result of months and months of painstaking tuning and harmonization, of micro-adjustments and movement and practice practice practice . He'd only truly finished them last week, after a burst of inspiration hit while he was helping Sakura train her new anti-resonance jutsu. Now every seal and atom of chakra sing together like a symphony, flowing into one another like building music.

Naruto takes a single moment of stillness, draws a deep breath and holds the pressure of it in his chest.

Because this is more than just a technique to him. Its many things; memory, homage, promise. This technique has been a half formed idea in his head since he returned from Uzushio, ever since he'd seen Kurama's first hand memories of his mother's chakric chains– pure energy, powerful and versatile and devastating .

But these are not his mother's chains.

The form they take may be reminiscent of her, the seals may gleam to reflect his Uzushio ancestry, but in substance they pay respect to a different set of teachings, to a different set of parents .

The chakra condensation that makes up the core of the technique is something he learned watching Kurama. The weave of lightning through the seals that allow for their reactivity and responsiveness is something he learned watching his sensei. And between all of them, his teachers, his parents, his ancestry, his friends , he'd found something that clicked.

He'd found his ideal weapon.

Offensive and defensive, a way to create distance and to close it, a way to block chakra and to channel it.

Kurama had smiled at him when he'd finally finished it, when Naruto had shown it to him, overflowing with pride and success and relief. The smile had been soft and ferally proud, and he'd said, harsh voice brimming with fondness;

~Perfect for a protector.~

Naruto releases his held breath.

Neji is arrogant but he isn't stupid– his battlefield awareness is razor sharp and he's only stunned for a few seconds before he's moving again, a reflex offensive to try and take Naruto off guard. And sure, Neji is fast, but Naruto's not playing around anymore.

He still aches head to toe, pain throbbing through every limb, but it's a distant thing now; Kurama's burning presence makes pain a familiar and manageable thing.

Naruto's muscles tense and the chains react, ruled by his adrenaline, so attuned to him that they pulse in time with his quickening heart. His Hollow Chain is a weapon in the same way his limbs and his chakra are weapons– it's as much a part of him as flesh and bone, as blood and breath, as articulate as his own fingers and as reactive as his own nerves.

Neji closes in but it's too late, the chains are already arcing to defend him, snaking around his arm just as he brings it up to block the Heavy Palm Neji aims at his ribs. The chakra washes around the chain links like water, broken up by a substance harder and heavier than steel, but Neji is only shook by it for a moment, turning to aim another strike.

He assumes Naruto will continue guarding.

But Naruto is done holding back.

Before Neji can even complete the motion Naruto swings his arm wide, forcing the Hyuuga back with strength he clearly wasn't expecting, and returns the attack in kind. He raises his arm sharply, and the chain swings off his forearm, arcing hard right towards Neji's unprotected hip. It screams with momentum, and the Hyuuga sees it coming in time to dodge– barely.

The weighted tip of the chain cuts upwards crosswise, misses Neji's collar by a handful of centimeters, but judging by the way his eyes widen as it passes and the way the air current almost tears a fold of his robes right off his shoulder, he understands exactly just how close it had been.

Neji tries to close distance again as soon as the chain arcs past him– smart, since the momentum makes it deadly at a distance– but Naruto's accounted for this too. His fingers flick through signs, his first real jutsu since the start of the match, and he closes his fingers around the portion of the chain still wrapped around his other arm. Chakra sings along the length of it, sliding along the seal lines in twisting curls, gaining momentum at every link. He leaps back into the air as Neji gets close and spins, flipping the chain in a long arc at the ground.

It misses Neji by a wide margin, but Naruto hadn't been aiming for him in the first place.

The earth jutsu he'd charged into the chain reacts the second it makes contact with the rocky floor of the arena, and sets off a rumble that chases through the entire stadium. It's the only warning Neji gets before the ground erupts around him, the jutsu's power amplified after passing through the augmentative seals set throughout Naruto's Hollow Chain

Doton: Jagged Quake.

Sharp peaks of rock tear through the ground like tissue paper, and Neji is so wholly unprepared for the violent upending of his footing that when he leaps to avoid the serrated edges of the jutsu he does so right into Naruto's waiting trap.

The chain whips around as fast as the thought crosses Naruto's mind, coils around Neji's body like a cobra, and Naruto turns, pulls hard, and hurls him right to earth.

The crash echoes like a thunderclap, sending rock shards ricocheting in every direction. One zips so close by Gemma's ear it flutters his hair, but the Tokujou doesn't even blink as he peers across the arena into the crater in which Neji lies. Naruto can see him counting in his head, watching as Neji coughs hard, struggles once against the chains still tangled around his arms, and lies still.

Genma nods once, and holds up a hand. "Hyuuga Neji is unable to continue! Victor, Uzumaki Naruto!"

For a half beat there's nothing but pure, unbroken silence.

And then the crowd explodes .

Naturo isn't paying attention to the sounds around them though, whether the noise is jeers or cheers or exclamations of outrage. His ears are ringing too loudly to differentiate, and even if he could tell, it wouldn't matter either way.

He stands at the edge of the crater and recalls his chains with no more than a soft tug of his wrist. The Chūkū Kusari unravels slowly, uncoiling from its vice around Neji's torso and slithering back to Naruto, sliding softly to curl around one arm, drape across his shoulders and curl down the other into its resting state.

Genma is about to raise a hand to call for a medic but stills when Neji coughs and sits up under his own power. He blinks moonstone eyes in confusion and blindsided anger, and then turns his opalescent glare on Naruto.

"Why did you do that?" He hisses, struggling to his feet too fast and sliding around on the broken gravel beneath him in the process.

Naruto rubs the back of his neck and tries to look casual, probably fails. "I dunno what you're talking about."

" Don't play stupid with me now Uzumaki ." Neji snarls, stumbling from the crater on shaky legs. Naruto reins in his first instinct to offer help, knowing that Neji would incorrectly interpret the gesture as pity. So Naruto just shifts his weight and slides his hands into his pockets instead.

Neji is panting when he finally manages to stand, drained of chakra and still reclaiming his breath from his impact with the ground. His hair is everywhere and he's shaking badly– it's obvious he tried to discharge a jutsu in the confines of Naruto's Chūkū Kusari and discovered just how bad an idea that was– the chakra would have made it about skin level before it surged back in on itself after coming into contact with with the seals on the outside of the chain links. It's a backfire that reacts reflexively to any chakra that isn't Naruto's– which is actually rather problematic, since he wants to eventually use this technique in concert with Sasuke and Sakura's jutsu as well.

"You did something." Neji accuses through his teeth. "Before I hit the ground. You cushioned the blow."

Neji isn't wrong– Naruto had channeled a burst of water chakra through his chains before impact, which had disabalized the spikes of rock from his Jagged Quake into sand on contact.

Naruto shrugs, meeting Neji's angry glare with a flat look. "Wasn't trying to kill you Neji." he murmurs, tilting his head. "Just make a point."

Before Neji can respond Genma pointedly interrupts them. "Hyuuga, hospital. Now. You need a medic Blondie?"

Naruto shakes his head, gesturing to the stands where Sakura's pink hair can be seen at the railing. "Got one, thanks."

It has been a very long time since Kakashi has seen Sarutobi's eyebrows quite that high up his forehead, longer still since he's seen the dropped jaw to match.

The Kage's balcony is high up, suspended above the main stands by a story, but the distance doesn't seem to have played down the sheer awe generated by Naruto's match at all– it's silent around him, around the roar of the stands below, Kage and teachers speechless both.

Kakashi tries not to grin hard enough to be seen beneath his mask.

Along with the Hokage and Kazekage is the Raikage– A had apparently chosen to hang around even after all his participating teams had been eliminated, which is unlike him by Kakashi's judgment. He's never been the sort of man to be anywhere unless he stands to gain something from it.

Alongside them are the Jounin instructors of all the participating teams that made it past the second exam, including a spare few that have chosen to keep their teams around for learning purposes. Two of the Jounin present are from Kumo, the first a broad shouldered, dark skinned man with hair woven into hundreds of small braids, all thrown into a loose tail. The second is the tall, pale haired woman that had been rowing with Asuma during the preliminaries.

She's been casting increasingly probing looks Kakashi's way since the match started, and now that it's over her gaze feels like a burning drill in the back of his skull. Baki, who's standing to the 'Kazekage's' right, just sends him a look . Kakashi only shrugs subtly in response, and eyes the two kunoichi standing behind Baki instead.

The Kazekage's guard consists of two straight-backed women in the cold steel-masked garb of the Arechi no Hogosha, wasteland warriors of vicious renown and the honored protectors of the Wind Shadow. They'd be an absolute pain to fight if things explode the way Kakashi thinks they might, so it's a good thing Baki had managed to convince the dangerous lionesque warriors of the same thing he'd convinced Kakashi.

He gives it until the finals before things truly go off. If it takes that long.

"Kakashi."

Dipping his head, Kakashi closes his eyes and bows forward slightly, and important show of respect in the politically charged atmosphere.

"Hokage-sama."

Hiruzen's old gnarled hands are bone white against his chair arms, still strong enough to crack the laquered wood, and he's blinking fast, as if trying to clear a vision from his eyes. "It would seem young Naruto has more of his parents in him than I initially suspected."

The emotion that jolts through Kakashi at the words is a complicated one, part ache and part anger. On one hand, he understands wanting to see something of Minato and Kushina in someone else, a glimmer of them living on in their only son. On the other, he wants to curse Sarutobi for being so terribly blind .

"With all due respect, Hokage-sama," Kakashi says lowly, his voice pitched so that only the old man will hear, "Of all the things special about Naruto, his parentage is rather low on the list."

And maybe it's the way he says it, a tight reprimand crouched behind the words, that makes Sarutobi start sharply the way he does.

He looks chastised , and Kakashi didn't think that word could apply to Sarutobi, the God of Shinobi, to a Kage twice over with more than a half century of service under his hitai-ate. Though he schools his expression quickly, the blood takes longer to return to Sarutobi's wrinkled face, leaving a sickly sheen around his eyes as he speaks. "Indeed."

Kakashi straightens again, leaving the old Kage to his thoughts, but he can't help thinking that despite the new lines forming grooves across his forehead, Sarutobi's eyes have never looked quite so clear.

Shikamaru tugs a strap a bit straighter on Ino's belt, the only aspect of her equipment that's not already immaculate. She's practically glowing with energy and excitement, her fingers tapping giddily against the shaft of her Nagamaki, and Shikamaru finds he isn't worried. So instead of saying 'be careful' or 'fight smart' he smiles a little, squeezes her arm once, and tells her; "Have fun."

Ino beams and throws her arms around him, narrowly missing the tip of his ponytail with the sharp edge of her staved blade. He huffs with the force of it, his arms coming around her reflexively.

"Easy blondie. You're stronger than you look." He mutters, but hides his wider smile in her shoulder and squeezes back.

"You're not fooling anyone, beanpole." she giggles, and leans back to punch him lightly in the abdomen, the blue of her eyes sparking in the same shade as the sky overhead. "Wish me luck?"

Shikamaru shakes his head. "You don't need it."

A wide grin shows off the white of her teeth, and she leaps up to reach over and smack Choji's fist with her own.

The Akamichi's smile takes up his whole face. "Go get 'em, flower girl."

Ino smacks a kiss to Choji's cheek and takes off towards the arena entrance, shining like a miniature sun instead of a human being. Shino's going to have his work cut out for him.

Choji jostles his shoulder gently once she's danced out of sight. "Ready when you are." is all he says, easy and quiet.

Shikamaru nods. "Grab Hinata and Kiba for me? I'll meet up top with Trouble One, Two, and Three."

Choji snickers and heads off to find their fellow rookies, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Finding the monster trio is easy– their chakra signatures are bright and distinctive, and shine even clearer in his senses when all three of them are together. They're tucked in a corner of the benches near the railing a good distance from the other chunin exam participants watching the fight begin down below, and as Shikamaru gets closer he understands why team 7 has been given such a wide berth.

They're arguing. Loudly.

Except maybe arguing isn't the right word, since 'argument' implies that the confrontation is two sided and not just… well, Sakura yelling at Naruto.

"Freaking knuckleheaded moron, I swear all that chakra is starting to fry your godsdamned brain– and yes you can tell Kurama I said that. Dumbass boys, I honestly can't believe you right now, there are more ways to make a point then getting your ass kicked I mean seriously Naruto what was even going through your thick skull–"

Shikamaru wisely waits until she starts to slow down before he inches too close– by the look on Naruto's face this has been going on a while– Sasuke, who is leaning back against the railing, seems to have tuned her out long ago and has clearly taken a page out of Shikamaru's book– eyes closed and breathing even.

He's not asleep though, Shikamaru can see the minute quirks of his mouth as Sakura lays into their blond, little flashes that betray his entertainment with her increasingly creative blue-streak of insults to Naruto's intelligence.

Which is blindingly ironic, considering the same fight Sakura is calling Naruto an idiot in thirty different ways for is the same fight that had proved to everyone watching, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Uzumaki Naruto possesses a brand of genius without equal.

Though it's quite clear that Sakura's irritation has far more to do with the Uzumaki's numerous injuries than anything else, and even as she lectures her hands move with practiced efficiency around his shoulder and ribs, fingers alight with concentrated blue-green chakra.

"Should I come back later?" Shikamaru asks when she stops for breath.

"No." Naruto says quickly at the same time Sakura snaps, "Yes!"

Shikamaru throws his hands up lazily, not about to get involved, and backs up a step, because Sakura is the obvious threat of bodily harm, and he's not and has never been stupid enough to cross her. Sorry Naruto .

Thankfully Sasuke cracks in eye open to defuse the situation. "Come on Sakura, he's had enough, he gets it."

Sakura growls and pounces on Naruto, ruffling his hair with a vicious noogie that has the Uzumaki squawking. "He'd better get it!" She growls. "Just because he normally has a giant fluffy demon to heal his every scratch doesn't mean he can just let himself get knocked the hell around by an angry Hyuuga dumbass .

It worked though. Shikamaru thinks, and narrowly avoids saying it out loud. Naruto's injuries had been an unavoidable part of backing Neji into a mental and emotional corner, a side-effect of forcing the Hyuuga to see that Naruto's strength had absolutely nothing to do with any cosmic force resembling fate.

"Alright, alright, get off me!" Naruto squawks, and Sakura does so, if only partly, draping her arms forward over Naruto's shoulders and sticking her tongue out just shy of his left ear. Naruto elbows her lightly in the ribs and the two begin to bicker playfully.

Sasuke waves Shikamaru over and gestures for him to take a seat on his other side, which he readily accepts despite the brewing tussle.

"Got something for us?" The Uchiha asks blithely as he sits, his tone implying he means us in the broader sense, the rookie nine rather than just team seven.

Shikamaru nods, ducking a stray elbow and straightening again before he answers. "What news do you want first, the long game or the short?"

"Long." he says readily, and Shikamaru is unsurprised by his answer.

He hums, inclining his head. "Only so many paths the game can take now. I've stacked things in our favor, but we've chosen our stance on the board." Shikamaru takes a moment to rub at his neck in faux laziness, tilting his head to level his gaze at the Uchiha, steady and serious. "The old bastard's thrown the pieces, and black moves first."

Sasuke's eyes flash, and his returning smirk shows enough teeth to be a borderline snarl. "Good." he says lowly. "I'm sick of sitting around anyway."

"Its Naruto's move to make." Shikamaru reminds him. "He's the king on this board."

"And the dangled prize." Sasuke mutters, the humour vanishing from his face, turning his cutting smile into jagged frown.

Shikamaru tilts his gaze to even their eyes again. "If you're having second thoughts…"

Sasuke shakes his head sharply. "No." he says firmly. "I trust you. He trusts you. You know what you're doing."

"There's still time to explain, if you'd rather." Shikamaru assures, and he means that. There are two people outside his team that can understand the convoluted trips and twists and contingencies of the plans and strategies his mind is capable of conjuring. Sasuke is one. Shino is the other.

But Sasuke shakes his head again. "You said it would work smother if we didn't know. I trust that too."

Shikamaru nods, doesn't do him the disservice of asking if he's sure.

There's a few moments of relative quiet after that, as Sasuke watches his teammates wrestle with a fondness Shikamaru now knows him well enough to see on his face.

"What about the short game?" Sasuke asks suddenly.

Shikamaru tilts his head back and forth, debates the value in softening his words, figures there's no point, and says; "Kazekage's dead." without preamble.

Sasuke's eyebrows creep up his forehead. Sakura and Naruto stop their wrestling match to stare at him. Shikamaru shrugs nonchalantly and dips into his pocket for one of Choji's snack bars.

Naruto blinks for a confused second or two, eyes tracking up to the Kage's balcony and back down again. "So wait, then who's wearing the hat?"

Sakura figures it out first, without Shikamaru having to say anything.

"Oh you've got to be shitting me."

Choji finds them not too long after that, Hinata and Kiba in tow, and Shikamaru gets everyone more or less on the same page moving forward.

Shikamaru's already created six contingency plans for shit blowing up in a file in his brain he's elected to label 'Shitty Sannin' by the time Ino and Shino find the seven of them, and Shikamaru feels instantly guilty for missing the last half of Ino's fight lost in his own head.

Ino's far from upset though, and more than happy to give him a colour commentary of the events after they see off Choji and Hinata to prep for their own fight. She covers the entire event with rapid-fire enthusiasm that Shikamaru would find irritating coming from anyone else, and Shino nods along, interjecting when helpful but otherwise content to listen as well, thought throughout the entire saga Ino neglects to tell him who actually won .

Ino blinks at him owlishly when he asks, head tilting curiously. "Wait, you don't know? Did I not tell you?"

Shikamaru gives a single slow blink to indicate his answer, and Ino's smile turns sheepish. "Sorry Shika, sometimes I forget you're not the mind reader. You make it pretty easy, in my defence."

Shikamaru raises an eyebrow and Shino does Ino the favor of explaining for her. "Hinata, Ino, Choji, and I made a… pact of sorts, before the start of this exam."

"Raise Hell and Bow Out, basically." Ino finishes. "We kicked each other's asses with enough flair to awe the judges and then forfeited simultaneously."

"It caused quite an uproar." Shino comments simply. "I am genuinely surprised you missed it."

It's Shikamaru's turn to blink owlishly, and Ino snickers. "Must have been pretty deep in that head of yours, Shika." She laughs, and punctuates her point by tapping a knuckle between his eyebrows. "It means neither of us will move on in the tournament, but the judges would be brain-dead not to promote us, and we managed to keep our cards close to our vest at the same time too. Another wild card in your strategy deck, right?

Shikamaru smiles and snorts, rubbing at his forehead where she bopped him. "I'm actually surprised I didn't think of that." He murmurs, then, louder, "So Hinata and Choji…?"

"Are doing the same, yes." Shino answers.

Shikamaru huffs fondly. It's good to remember that nothing is ever set in stone, that his friends can still surprise him in the best of ways, winding trails of predictions be damned. It reminds him that there's no such thing as a no-win scenario– because if Shikamaru has learned anything being around them, being with them, it's that even if there is no path ahead, no way forward, it doesn't matter.

Because even if they can't find a way, they can sure as hell make one.