Chapter 4: Suspicion
Tsunade flopped on her bed with a groan, and let her arm fall across her face. Her eyes ached from staring at iryō-jutsu scrolls for the past two hours.
Kami, she hated studying. She could almost hear Sensei speaking in her ear, "Tsunade, shinobi must train in every area of the body; not merely physical. The mind and soul are equally important. Use them."
She had then showed him just how well she used her mind by outmaneuvering Jiraiya and Orochimaru in their strategy training exercise. Oro had learned from the experience, of course, and defeated her in the next round. Jiraiya had complained they were both cheating.
But she also knew Sarutobi-sensei was right. Studying was important; there were some things that could only be learned by academics.
That didn't mean she had to like it, however. Besides, all she had been doing was studying. She needed hand-on experience to put her techniques into practice. Books and scrolls could only take her so far in the world of iryō-jutsu.
"Neechan! Mission alert!" Nawaki's whisper-shout came from her window.
Tsunade let her arm slide off her face, and immediately a small roll of paper smacked her between the eyes. She growled, and rolled over to glare at... Nawaki stood outside of her open window, visible from the waist up. She stared. He wasn't holding onto the sill, even though her room was on the second story of the Senju—
She shot up. "Nawaki, what are you doing?!"
He grinned, tanned cheeks pink with pride. "We learned chakra adas—uh, adhesion—in the academy today. Check it out, Neechan!"
Tsunade reached the window in an instant, heart in her throat. Sure enough, Nawaki's sandals were firmly planted on the wall outside. It took all of her willpower not to grab his arm. "You... learned this today?"
Nawaki's grin widened and he saluted. "I told you I'd make you proud, Neechan! Your little bro is a genius!"
Genius. Kami, how she hated that word. Tsunade's blood ran cold, but she forced a smile for her brother. "Well done, Nawaki-kun. I'm very proud of you." She held up the tiny scroll, sloppily tied with a red string. "What is this?"
"I told you, a mission!" Nawaki leaped backward before she could grab him, narrowly missing a tree branch before he landed on the ground. "Come on!"
That boy was going to be the death of her. Tsunade scowled and launched herself through the window, catching up to Nawaki in moments. He led her through the back streets of Konoha, until they approached the outskirts of the village. Nawaki headed straight for the towering fence protecting the Nara Clan Forest.
He couldn't possibly be... "Nawaki, what are you—?"
Nawaki halted at the base of the fence. He planted his fists on his hips and nodded. "Okay, we're in a secure location. You can read your mission request."
Mission request...? Oh, right. The scroll. Tsunade rolled her eyes, but untied the scroll and unfurled it.
Mission request: Nara Shikaku
Wounded deer in the Nara Forest. Iryō-nin needed immediately. Must be kept secret!
Tsunade blinked, and reread the scroll. Then read it again. The handwriting wasn't Nawaki's, but... "Nawaki, what the hell is this?"
"I-I thought you'd be happy, Neechan." Nawaki shoved his hands into his pockets, shrinking beneath her gaze. "You're always saying how you want to practice iryō-jutsu. So... I told my classmates—only my most trusted ones!—to tell me if their pets were ever sick or anything. Shikaku just sent me this mission. It's an emergency!"
Oh, kami. Tsunade ran a hand down her face. No doubt it was an emergency for the young Nara heir. The Nara highly prized their deer, and if something had happened to one while Shikaku was taking care of them...
The responsible part of her knew she should order Shikaku to inform his parents. But... Nawaki had done all of this for her. And wasn't this the very opportunity she had been wanting? Granted, it was a deer, not a human, but she had to start somewhere. And since when did she follow expectations?
Nawaki was staring at her anxiously.
Tsunade rolled the scroll up, her face deadly serious. "Is Nara Shikaku waiting for us?"
Nawaki swallowed. "Yes..."
"Good." Tsunade gave him a sharp nod. "Lead the way, then. We need to keep moving before we are spotted."
Nawaki beamed, then quickly schooled his features into a stern scowl. She hid her amusement. No doubt, he thought such an expression made him look like a shinobi. "Right. The contact is this way!"
Tsunade followed Nawaki up the fence—staying on his heels as a precaution. But he never slipped. Concern overshadowed her pride for her brother. If he was already at this level... how much longer would it be until he was placed on genin team?
Nara Shikaku waited for them just inside the edge of the forest, sitting cross-legged next to a small deer with a hand on its back. His black hair was pulled back in a spiky ponytail, and he had the narrow features typical of most Nara. His eyes widened. "Tsunade-hime? Y-You came?"
"Of course she did," Nawaki bragged.
Tsunade shot him an exasperated glance, then turned to Shikaku. "What happened?"
.
.
Tsunade closed her eyes as she strolled along the sun-dappled street in the direction of the Senju residence. Strangely, she felt lighter than she had in months. And all from healing a fawn with a pinched spine.
Or perhaps it came from the awed gratitude in Shikaku's normally-bored eyes, or Nawaki's obvious pride in his sister.
"Tell me, who else knows you have an illicit relationship with the youth of Konoha?"
Tsunade stopped, and turned to glare up at Orochimaru, who was perched on one of the branches overhanging the street. "Don't be ridiculous, Oro. There's nothing illicit about it."
Orochimaru smirked. "Healing the beloved animals of our children without an iryō certification? Enlighten me."
"Why are you following me?" Tsunade demanded, irritably propping her hands on her hips. "If Jiraiya put you up to this..."
Then she would strangle them both. Repeatedly.
"Please. I haven't done his bidding since our youth. I learned my lesson. But speaking of Jiraiya, do you intend to tell him of this?" Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with too much insight. He had always been able to see more than she wanted him to. "Or shall it remain our little secret?"
Tsunade fixed her gaze on the swaying leaves, but she was unable to hold in a sigh. "Why the questions? You know I won't tell Jiraiya. He already thinks I hold on to the past too much. As if he doesn't."
The past had shown her how much needed to change for the future. Jiraiya wanted the past to stay into the present. But those days of growing and training together were long gone. They were different now. Why couldn't Jiraiya accept that?
Orochimaru acknowledged her comment with a nod. "We all have our vices. Jiraiya merely doesn't see his as such."
Tsunade ran a hand down her face. "Oro... do you think I have changed too much?"
Orochimaru tilted his head thoughtfully. "Can one change too much? Rather, I would fear remaining stagnant. One cannot improve if one does not change. Your growth in necessary to bring about the changes you want."
She should have known Oro would say something like that. "Not all change is good."
Orochimaru hummed. "And you think you have changed for the worse? I disagree."
"No... I don't know." Tsunade sighed. Mito and Jiraiya were getting to her head. "I mean, of course not. I know that what I am doing can save lives. Hundreds—maybe thousands of lives. I am not going to give up."
"Good."
That single word warmed her to her core. At least someone agreed with what she was doing. She sent Orochimaru a wry glance. "Did you truly come here to give me a pep talk?"
"No. Mere coincidence." His yellow eyes gleamed. "I came to discuss Hatake Kakashi."
"Oh?" Tsunade faced Orochimaru, her interest piqued. "I hope this means you share my suspicions about him."
Orochimaru hissed softly in amusement. "Tsuna, when I have I ever trusted anyone?"
Tsunade folded her arms. "Well, it seems I mistakenly thought you trusted me."
"You do not count."
"I'm touched," she muttered.
"An unknown shinobi suddenly shows up, past our border defenses, with the silver hair of a Hatake and a Sharingan of the Uchiha?" Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed to slits. "Naturally, I am curious."
"You think he is a spy?" Tsunade considered her statement. "But the purpose of a spy is to blend in. Why would he reveal his Sharingan? Not to mention that eye-catching silver hair."
"Because he did not intend to pass out in the cemetery. Now that we have inadvertently discovered him, he is merely trying to cover his tracks with that ridiculous amnesia story," Orochimaru said. "He got lucky with the White Fang's misguided support and Sarutobi-sensei's weak spine."
Tsunade frowned. "Unless... his goal is the White Fang. He is the only Hatake in Konoha and possibly our strongest active shinobi, besides us and Sarutobi-sensei. It wouldn't be hard to create a Hatake Kakashi, someone who can understand and connect to the lonely White Fang."
That was what she would do, if she had such a mission. She bit her lip. And whose fault was it that Sakumo was so isolated and distant? True, she hadn't realized the extent of it until the day Hatake Kakashi had showed up, but that didn't change the fact that Sakumo's current situation was a product of Konoha's system.
"Both options are possible," Orochimaru acknowledged. "Regardless, Hatake Kakashi is a problem. One we must get to the bottom of."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that? He has Sakumo-san and, to an extent, the goodwill of Sarutobi-sensei on his side. If we inform them of our suspicions and they don't believe us, it will only alert Hatake."
Orochimaru smiled. "Come now, Tsuna. You and I have both done our share of subterfuge missions."
"What about Jiraiya?" She needed to hear the answer from Oro, even if she already knew. She and Orochimaru had diverted from the paths they were supposed to take. The oddities.
Only Jiraiya had stayed completely loyal to Sarutobi-sensei's ideals. As the ideal shinobi.
Well, besides his perverted tendencies. But considering Sarutobi-sensei had joined him in such activities... she still shuddered at the memory of the day she had discovered that little tidbit of information.
For the first time, a hint of discomfort flickered across Orochimaru's pale features. "He is... close to Sarutobi-sensei. I would not want him to divide his loyalties. For now, we proceed without him. Are we in agreement?"
As if she didn't have enough to deal with already. But Oro was right, Hatake Kakashi needed to be dealt with. She sighed. "Fine. I assume you will let me know if you find anything?"
"Naturally." Orochimaru stood, apparently done with the conversation. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Two shinobi were admitted to the hospital this morning. Badly beaten. The perpetrator is unknown."
"Oro! Why didn't you tell me that first?!" Tsunade took once glance at the dirt smears and grass covering her white shirt, and sprinted toward the Senju mansion. She couldn't very well make a good impression at the hospital looking like she'd been playing in the dirt.
"Because you wouldn't have listened to my observations," Orochimaru called after her, sounding amused.
Tsunade ignored him as she leaped over the back wall, and raced up the stairs to the back entrance of the mansion. He knew he was right, so there was no point in confirming it. She stopped in her room long enough to change into a clean blouse and skirt, and tamed her tangled hair into a new ponytail. She swiped her fingers through her bangs a couple of times, then slipped downstairs. If she was quick enough, she could get out before Mito caught her and demanded to know what she was up to.
She paused next to the haori collection hanging beside the front door. Hashirama's black haori designed with the white Senju symbol embroidered across the back, still hung in the first spot. Tobirama's, white with a black Senju symbol, was next. Two more matching Hashirama's were hung to the right, belonging to her parents. And below them, hers and Nawaki's, identical to their parents.
Tsunade sighed, but she grabbed her haori and swung it over her shoulders, wrinkling her nose at the musty cloth. She hadn't worn this haori since her parents' funeral. And if Hatake Kakashi had returned her old blue haori, she wouldn't be wearing it now. But perhaps the visual reminder of her clan name would help her get into the hospital this time.
It didn't.
"I'm sorry, Tsunade-hime, but you aren't authorized to enter this section of the hospital."
Tsunade ground her teeth. Losing her composure wouldn't help the situation—as tempting as it was to send her fist through the wall. "All I'm asking for is a few moments to observe their condition. I won't touch—"
"I'm sorry." The iryō-nin tapped her clipboard impatiently. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Tsunade stared at her. Leave? "Did you even hear what I—?"
"If you don't leave right now, I will report you to the Sandaime." The iryō-nin lifted her chin, but her brown eyes flickered anywhere but Tsunade's glare. "Please do as I request."
The Sandaime? Tsunade stiffened. He wouldn't. She spun on her heel and stalked out of the shinobi hospital. Would it never change? Was she destined to never get the chance to prove herself? She stopped next to one of the round holly bushes lined in front of the hospital, and glowered down at the shiny leaves.
Forget Sarutobi-sensei. If two shinobi had been attacked in Konoha's borders, she could help. Why couldn't they see that? Certified or not, these iryō-nins didn't have her abilities. She turned to study the rectangular, three-story building. There were more ways into a hospital than through the front door.
The doors opened, and a short iryō-nin wearing a white coat and glasses walked out, her black ponytail bobbing.
Tsunade smiled. Or, she could use the front door. She waited until the iryō-nin had turned the corner, then summoned a henge. Black ponytail, glasses, and a white coat. She strolled back inside and waved to the front desk. "Forgot something!"
The iryō-nin who had rejected her moments earlier merely lifted a hand without glancing up from her documents.
Tsunade moved on with an eyeroll. Add security to the changes she would make. She hurried up to the second floor, the level for stable patients who needed overnight care. She pasted on a fake smile and kept her questions brief and vague as she moved through several iryō-nins, gradually gaining enough information until she learned the two shinobi victims were in the south ward in room 207.
Compared to the last subterfuge mission she'd been assigned—uncovering an underground smuggling scheme run by one of the fire daimyo's advisors—this was child's play. But still, the less of a trail she left behind, the better.
If Sarutobi-sensei and Mito found out about her presence... she shuddered at the thought.
The hallway was empty, so Tsunade slipped into room 207. The door softly clicked shut behind her as she let her eyes adjust to the dim room. Two beds, each holding a sleeping shinobi and a pale blue curtain dividing between. She walked to the first bed to inspect the man before she began her deeper examination. His face was purple and swollen beyond recognition, as if it had been smashed into a brick wall repeatedly. Whoever had done this... was filled with rage.
Tsunade bit the inside of her cheek. Focus. She inhaled, drawing on the calm, composed concentration needed to perform the duties of an iryō-nin. She refocused on his face, reading it like a scroll.
Broken nose. Deep bruising on the frontal cranium, likely resulting in a concussion. Both eyes swollen shut. A fracture in the left cheekbone. She summoned the Mystic Palm technique and held her glowing hand over his scalp. Trauma to the hair roots, where the attacker had gripped a fistful of hair.
Tsunade frowned, and glanced down at the shinobi's hands and forearms. No scrapes or bruises. Nothing under the fingernails. A heavy feeling settled in her stomach. A trained shinobi hadn't seen his attacker coming. Hadn't even had time to defend himself. She moved her hand down along his neck and to his lower chest, her chakra alerting her to the cracked ribs concealed by the hospital gown.
These were all precise hits. The attacker knew exactly how much damage he was giving and where. Tsunade removed her hand and curled her fingers into a fist, extinguishing her chakra. An attack like this could only come from a shinobi with elite abilities on an ANBU level.
Tsunade stepped around the foot of the bed and pushed aside the dividing curtain, revealing the other shinobi. It was unlikely they had been targeted by more than one attacker, but there was only one way to find out.
Every shinobi had a unique way of fighting. Even if two shinobi performed the exact same moves in the exact same sequence, the differences in damage inflicted would be apparent to an eye trained in the art of iryō-jutsu. The height and weight of the shinobi, combined with their strength and speed were obvious reasons, but there were other ways to read combat patterns. Whether they preferred to distribute weight to their left or right leg, their dominate fingers, and applying pressure upward or downward.
She'd long since memorized Orochimaru and Jiraiya's preferred attack patterns, as well as Sarutobi-sensei. But these... held no familiarity at all. Tsunade frowned. From all of her spars with other shinobi, she'd gotten an idea of the general fighting style used in Konoha. This wasn't one of them.
Tsunade pressed her lips together. The injuries to the second shinobi were nearly identical. Same trauma to the scalp and hair, smashed face, and fractured ribs. In fact, they were so similar... it seemed likely the attacker had taken both at the same time, and their facial trauma was due to their heads being smashed into each other, not a wall.
"...thank you. I require a few moments alone with the patients. I will notify you when I have completed my diagnosis."
Tsunade froze at the all-too-familiar voice outside of the room, and swore under her breath. She'd been too distracted to sense anyone approach. The room was windowless, leaving the door as the only exit. She was trapped.
Maybe she'd get lucky for once in her life and her henge wouldn't be detected.
The door opened, and a woman even shorter than Tsunade walked in, her long, mousy brown ponytail swaying behind her. Her eyes widened. "Oh. The head iryō-nin assured me this room was ready for me. Was she mistaken?"
Tsunade averted her gaze from Sarutobi Biwako's piercing stare. Time to get out of here. "I apologize. I was finishing up. Please excuse me."
Tsunade lowered her head and walked straight for the door, holding her breath until she passed Biwako. The cool chakra of her sensei's wife brushed over her, but Biwako didn't speak. Thank kami. A few more steps, and she would be out of—
"Tsunade."
Tsunade groaned. The door was inches away. Inches. But she swiveled to face her old mentor, gritting her teeth. "Yes?"
Biwako arched a thin eyebrow, as if contemplating Tsunade's sanity. Her lavender kimono draped to the floor, looking every bit the hokage's wife. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize the chakra signature of my old apprentice?"
Tsunade glowered at the hem of her pristine white coat. There was no point in keeping her henge, so she released it along with a sigh. "On rare occasions I have good fortune."
Biwako chuckled softly. "I would have been disappointed if you weren't here."
Tsunade lifted her head, heart giving a painful thump. Biwako's gaze, dark as aged walnut, met hers. It seemed like a lifetime ago when, two years ago—days after Dan's funeral—she'd begged Biwako to train her in iryō-jutsu. Denial hadn't deterred her. If anything, it had given her a purpose in her grief. She had spent all of her free time sitting outside of the Sarutobi residence, and at last, after two weeks, Biwako caved and agreed to teach her iryō-jutsu. For three months, she had learned from the best iryō-nin in Konoha.
Until, courtesy of an unwitting and nosy Jiraiya, Sarutobi-sensei had discovered what, exactly, his other prodigy student was spending her time training in. And when her grandmother found out, she had sided with Sarutobi-sensei.
"Grief isn't allowing you to think clearly."
"This is for your wellbeing."
"We cannot let you waste your potential."
"What?" Tsunade forced the words out through stiff lips. "Why?"
"Because you are a natural at iryō-jutsu, Tsunade. It would have broken my heart if you had given up after that day."
"Then why didn't you help me? Why did you let them forbid me from continuing training as an iryō-nin?" Tsunade made no attempt to keep bitterness from her voice. She hadn't spoken to Biwako since that day, nor had she wanted to. Why would she, when the one person who she'd thought would stand with her had let her leave without a word?
"I knew you were strong enough without me. As you have proved time and again." Biwako bowed her head. "I could not go against my husband and hokage. I am sorry for that."
Could not, or would not? Tsunade folded her arms. Regardless, she was finished with this conversation. "Why are you here?"
Biwako's gaze sharpened at her impertinence, but she clasped her hands and turned toward the two patients—a silent, if reluctant, agreement to drop the subject.
Good.
"Hiruzen asked me to inspect these shinobi in hopes my diagnosis will help in identifying their attacker. He… also suspected you might be here." Biwako's robes rustled as she moved to the first cot and placed her hand on the bedrail. "But you have already finished examining them, haven't you?"
As if she would admit to her guilt, especially if Biwako intended to report back to Sarutobi-sensei. "Are you going to tell him I was here?"
Biwako glanced over her shoulder, and for the first time, a smile hinted at the corner of her lips. "As every iryō-nin knows, all that matters is the wellbeing of the patients. Tell me what you found. That's all my husband needs to know."
In spite of herself, Tsunade couldn't help a slight answering smile. She had no intention of forgiving Biwako, but she could put it aside in the interest of their shared passion. At least Biwako understood her. She joined her old mentor at the bedside. "As you wish, Shishō."
Starting at the patient's cranium, she reiterated everything she had diagnosed earlier, down to the nearly identical trauma on the other patient and no defensive wounds on either. Biwako held her own Mystical Palm over the unconscious shinobi as Tsunade talked, only nodding occasionally.
Tsunade shifted back on her heels. "That's all I have so far. I'm certain a more in-depth examination will reveal more answers."
Biwako was silent for a long moment. Then she shook her head. "Kami. I knew you had talent, Tsunade, but this... you have long surpassed me. I wouldn't have gotten these results even if I had examined their injuries for hours." Her mentor glanced up, dark eyes glistening. "You have done well."
Surpassed...? Tsunade fought to keep her shock concealed. Biwako had studied iryō-jutsu for years. Of course, as the hokage's wife she had other duties as well, not to mention a young child, but...
"Thank you for your diagnosis. I will report that—and only that—to Hiruzen." Biwako turned back to the patient, dismissing Tsunade.
Tsunade bowed slightly to her old mentor's ramrod-straight back, and summoned the henge she'd used to get in before slipping out the door. Her mind raced. If she'd surpassed Biwako, would Sarutobi-sensei and Mito take her more seriously? She ran a hand through her blonde bangs in frustration. They would never know, because she couldn't tell them she'd broken into a hospital against their direct orders.
She wanted to scream and smash her fist against the wall.
At least it hadn't been entirely in vain. Tsunade shoved through the hospital doors and into the sunlight. She'd told Biwako everything... except for the attack patterns she had found. The attacker had skills on par with ANBU and a fighting style she didn't recognize. There was an obvious conclusion, but she needed more evidence before she could divulge her suspicions. Still, she'd known something was off about him from the start.
Now she only had to wait for an opportunity to confront Hatake Kakashi.
.
.
Three days later.
The past few days had been uneventful, and Kakashi wouldn't have traded them for anything. He and his father had gone fishing nearly every day, worked the small garden out back, and spent their evenings relaxing in front of Sakumo's small hearth as the nights were growing colder.
Kakashi sighed through his mask, and tipped his head back against the rough bark of the tree trunk. He kept his eyes closed and let the sounds of the forest drift around him. How much longer would these peaceful days last?
He couldn't remember exactly when the Second War started, but it had to be soon. Likely within a few months. Sakumo survived the war, so as long as he didn't change anything, his father would be fine. Unless his presence had already changed the future irreparably...
There was no way to know. He'd have to find a way to get the Sandaime to trust him so he could join the war to stay at his father's side.
Kakashi fisted his hands in his pockets. No matter how he distracted himself with other thoughts, the same question lurked in the back of his mind: Did he still want to find who had brought him here?
Enough. Kakashi cracked his eye open. Where was Dai, anyway?
He blinked, eye adjusting to the growing sunlight, but the first training ground remained empty. Sakumo had dropped him off early that morning before leaving on his own errands, but that had been a good half-hour ago. He'd leaned against a tree on the outskirts of training ground one to wait, but he must have been lost in his thoughts longer than he'd realized. Dai had struck him as a punctual type, but it seemed he'd have to go find his partner if he wanted to get anything done today.
Kakashi pushed off of the tree and stretched. He'd check the other training grounds, and if Dai was still nowhere to be found... well, a nap sounded tempting. Besides, he wasn't allowed to leave the training grounds without supervision. Why not assume that meant he wasn't allowed to work without supervision either? Best to be on the safe side, and he was nothing if not cautious.
Except for that little mishap with his mother's harassers.
But it had been three days since then, and so far, it didn't seem as though anyone suspected him. The two shinobi had been released from the hospital yesterday, unable to identify who had attacked them. Kakashi's mouth twitched upward with cold satisfaction. But, then, the cowards hadn't reported the warning he'd whispered in their ears either.
"Stay away from Inuzuka Ehana, scum."
The third training ground was as empty as the first and second, so Kakashi adjusted his course and headed deeper into the forest toward the fourth. In his time, the fourth training ground hadn't been nearly as popular due to its smaller size and the restricting barrier of trees on every side. He'd preferred it for that very reason, especially when he was avoiding Gai's persistence and needed the privacy of a secluded training ground.
The scent of sweat and blood reached him moments before the heavy thunks and subsequent grunts of someone taking a beating. It seemed someone else also preferred the solitude of the fourth training ground.
Kakashi slowed as he reached the perimeter and stopped in the shadow of the branches stretching over him. A blur of green shot past him with a bellow, and he blinked.
...Dai?
"Faster!" a female voice shouted.
He wasn't alone? Kakashi refocused as Dai launched himself at the short blonde figure standing in the middle of the small clearing, and descended with a spinning kick aimed at her neck. Tsunade caught his ankle with one hand—though the earth cracked under her sandals from the impact—and shoved Dai back.
Dai hit the ground and tumbled back until he lost momentum and flopped on his back with a groan. "Ex-Excellent block, Tsunade-senpai."
Senpai?
"You're extending yourself too much," Tsunade lectured. She propped gloved hands on her hips, sweat glistening on her bare arms. She and Dai both had stripped down to tank tops; his green and hers black. "I'm impressed with your physical condition, Dai-san. By that alone, you would be at a high chūnin level. But your taijutsu techniques are barely genin level. It will take a lot of training to get out of your bad habits and refine your techniques. If you want to be able to open the Gates... that is the only way."
Dai sat up; arms braced behind him. "I will do whatever it takes!"
Tsunade sighed, but she smiled slightly. "I admit, it's refreshing to be around someone with your perspective, Dai-san."
"Thank you, Tsunade-senpai!"
Kakashi folded his arms. So, Tsunade was training Dai in taijutsu to help him open the Eight Gates? If he remembered correctly, it had taken Dai twenty years to accomplish that goal. But Rin had claimed that Senju Tsunade was famous for never training anyone. Had his presence somehow brought this about? And if that were true, would Dai gain mastery over the Gates sooner? His fingers dug into his bicep. How many unintended consequences had his presence in this timeline already brought about?
"I am able to open the first two Gates, but that is all," Tsunade's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I can show you how to improve your taijutsu techniques and occasionally spar with you, but that is all I can promise. Beyond that, you will be on your own. But... I believe you can do it, Dai-san."
Dai, now on his feet, bowed from the waist. Kakashi didn't miss the single tear that fell to the ground, hidden from Tsunade's view. "I am eternally grateful for your help, Tsunade-senpai! This is more than I ever could have hoped for!"
"Er, well..." Tsunade cleared her throat. "Shall we continue?"
"Of course!"
Dai hurried to the other side of the clearing, but Tsunade didn't move. Her sharp eyes met Kakashi's, and he returned her stare. What did it matter if she knew he had been watching? He turned away. He could complete his tasks without Dai.
Dusk had fallen by the time he finished the first three training grounds. Kakashi dropped off five bags of lost weapons at the equipment shed and straightened, rolling his shoulders. He gathered a couple of empty bags and headed back to the fourth training ground. Surely, Dai and Tsunade had finished their training by now. The forest was quiet save the rustle of wind in the treetops and the chirping crickets.
The peacefulness stirred his soul. He could almost imagine he was back on his last mission with Minato-sensei, right before Minato had been elected the Yondaime Hokage and he himself had joined ANBU.
It had been a tranquil evening like tonight, but he had been too consumed by guilt to notice. If it hadn't been for his failures, Rin and Obito would be on that mission with them; Rin likely trying to coerce him into a conversation and Obito sputtering in envy behind them. Minato-sensei would look back with a fond, unruffled smile and remind them to focus on the mission, to Kakashi's relief.
But it had only been him and Minato-sensei that night. He'd sensed Minato had arranged this mission for the two of them in an attempt to get Kakashi to open up, but the thought had angered him and kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to forget Rin and Obito, nor did he deserve to be free of his guilt.
He wanted it. Because he deserved it. There was no other penance he could give.
Kakashi tipped his face up to the stars appearing in the fading sunlight. Why had he been the one to survive? That question had haunted his every step. But now, he had his answer. Why else was he here, now? He'd been given the chance to repay every drop of blood he owed. His own life didn't matter, and it never had. As long as his precious people were given the life they deserved.
This time, he wouldn't fail.
"Took you long enough, Hatake-san."
Kakashi flinched out of his thoughts. He'd reached the fourth training ground without realizing it, and he silently cursed himself for not paying attention.
Tsunade stood alone in the small clearing, a kunai spinning on her index finger. She flicked the kunai over her shoulder. It hit the tree thirty yards behind with such force that the trunk split from the root to the branches. The creak of wood echoed in the following silence and the tree fell to the forest floor in two pieces.
He should have skipped the fourth training ground today.
Tsunade had turned to watch the result of her handiwork, and she cringed. "Don't mind that. I usually avoid projectile weapons unless necessary. They often break with the force I use."
Kakashi's grip tightened imperceptibly on the empty canvas sacks. This woman was annoyingly hard to read, even with his profile. Was she trying to intimidate him, or not? "What do you want?"
Tsunade tilted her head, blonde hair reflecting the fiery gold of the sunset. "Sakumo-san hasn't updated me on your condition. Have you been having any side effects? Dizziness, headaches, blackouts?"
Kakashi relaxed a fraction. As much as he disliked discussing his wellbeing, it was much better than the alternative. "No."
"Good," Tsunade said. "Then let's have a spar."
Spar? She had shown little to no interest in his existence since he'd been placed in Sakumo's care. Why the sudden attention? "Maa, I'm still under probation. I don't think—"
"Exactly. Which means you haven't been able to train this past week." Tsunade flipped her ponytail over her shoulder dismissively. "That would be agony to any shinobi I know. Surely you don't want your skills to grow dull. Show me what an Uzushio shinobi is made of." Her honey-hued gaze hardened. "If that's who you truly are."
Kakashi stilled. So, that's what this was about. If Tsunade was suspicious of him and his motives, then she likely wasn't the only one. "A spar will give you the answers you want?"
"Don't read too much into it. Maybe I just want an excuse to punch your annoying face."
Odd choice of words. Still, he felt it necessary to point out, "You can't see my face."
"Exactly!" Tsunade puffed her cheeks in frustration. "Look, if you don't want to appear suspicious, you should have chosen a better accessory than a mask. Unless you just don't care."
Kakashi let his eyes curve in a smile, more because he knew it would irritate her than anything else. "I don't care."
Tsunade stared at him, a muscle twitching in her jaw. "I'm finding it hard to believe you were ever dedicated enough to become an ANBU-caliber shinobi." She turned away. "I rescind my challenge. You wouldn't last longer than a minute, and I find no satisfaction in beating someone of that level, no matter how... annoying your face is."
Why did she have to be the one person he needed to save his mother? Still, perhaps he could work this to his advantage. "How about a bet?"
Tsunade half-turned. "What?"
Kakashi slid his hands into his pockets. If this worked, he'd have no need to attempt to get on her good side for his mother's sake. "If I last longer than a minute, you will help me with one task in the future, when I ask and without questions. It won't be anything to the detriment of Konoha."
Tsunade faced him. Strangely, a smirk hinted at the corner of her lips. "Interesting condition. And if you lose?"
Kakashi shrugged. He wouldn't. "I leave that up to you."
"Fine." Tsunade held up a finger, her eyes glinting in anticipation. "I'll have you know I take bets very seriously, so I won't hold back. Give me your best, Hatake Kakashi."
Kakashi inclined his head. If she was using this spar as nothing more than a warning, he could handle it. But if she had another motive behind it and if there were more to her suspicions than she'd let on, he would have to tread carefully.
Kakashi strolled out to the center of the training area where Tsunade waited, hands on her hips. He flexed his fingers in his pockets, but didn't remove them as he studied his opponent.
All expert taijutsu users were skilled in reading their opponents attack patterns and using such patterns to their advantage. He had no doubt that Tsunade—whom Gai and Rin both had claimed was one of Konoha's strongest taijutsu users, and was also hailed as a genius and prodigy—utilized such a skill.
Kakashi doubted his skill in taijutsu was at Tsunade's level, but he wasn't half bad. Still, bit of caution never hurt, and he had no intention of revealing his fighting style in his first spar.
He'd copied several styles over the years, but for this spar he intended on using Minato-sensei's. While his sensei was faster than he was, it would be easy enough to adapt most of his sensei's moves. And he had a feeling he'd need speed to have a chance in this spar, since he was unable to use chakra.
"Have you finished mentally preparing?" Tsunade arched an impatient eyebrow at him.
He'd only observed Tsunade's abilities in action once—and very briefly at that—but he had enough to work with. She was quick and decisive; likely to take initiative and attack first. Her greatest advantage was her inhuman strength.
For now, his strategy would involve nothing more than avoiding her attacks until he found an opening.
Kakashi pulled his hands from his pockets, automatically reaching for his chakra—and winced at the taut, restricting pressure in his chest. He refocused on Tsunade. Now wasn't the time to get distracted. "I am."
The next moment, Tsunade was inches away, her fist blasting upward for a direct hit to his sternum.
Kakashi's eye widened a fraction. Did she intend to obliterate him with her first punch? He'd underestimated her aggressiveness.
Well. She did say she took bets seriously.
A push with his left foot, and he dropped to the right, avoiding her fist by millimeters. But Tsunade's weight shifted slightly, and her foot swept toward his chin. Kami. Her first strike had been a feint.
Kakashi's palm hit the ground and he twisted his lower body upward, catching Tsunade's leg between his own. He tucked his head under as he launched his legs backward, using the strength in his core to throw Tsunade behind him.
But her fingers brushed his shoulder, and too late, he realized she'd grabbed a fistful of his shirt. Then he was airborne, flying headfirst toward a massive tree. Kakashi used his momentum to flip midair, and his feet hit the trunk with enough force to splinter the bark and crack the smooth wood underneath.
He dropped to the ground and landed in a crouch, senses immediately honing in on his opponent. Tsunade had also landed on her feet on the other side of the clearing, twin trenches carved into the earth where she'd slid to a stop.
Tsunade lifted her head, chest heaving, and her eyes narrowed in on him through a fringe of blonde hair. A slow grin crept across her dirt-smudged face. She shot toward him with a shout, fist raised.
Kakashi shifted back against the tree behind him, and braced his feet against the trunk. Time to use his speed to his advantage.
When Tsunade was only yards away, he launched himself at her, covering the distance in a moment. Tsunade's eyes widened as he struck with his right hand, aiming just above her heart, like he would with... with...
Chidori.
Kakashi's eye lifted to hers. But in that moment, the irises that met his own weren't the color of honey. They darkened to ash brown, glossy with tears as his hand plunged through warm flesh and muscle. Blood sprayed his face, droplets soaking into his mask and burning into his skin. He could only stand, horrified, as the life left those brown eyes; eyes that had only ever looked at him with love and trust.
His fingers touched warm skin, shocking him back to the present, and Kakashi recoiled, curling into himself.
All he could see was Rin's face as she died in his arms.
A fist crunched into his chest. Kakashi blasted up and backward, hitting the ground with a bone-rattling thud. He tumbled through the trampled grass until he lost momentum, and sprawled on his back. He gasped, pain seizing his lungs. No... No. He couldn't do this again.
Footsteps thudded toward him.
"Kami, are you all right?!" Tsunade crouched at his side. Even her sweat was tainted with the scent of white jasmine, but it was enough to yank him back into reality. "What happened? When you—I tried to pull back, but…"
ANBU training overrode any other instincts. Kakashi caught her wrist and spun, using his lower gravity to throw her over him and down. Tsunade slammed into the ground back-first, and he was already on her, hand striking down to her neck at the carotid artery. She wasn't Rin.
Tsunade's eyes widened, and she jerked her head just enough that his hand missed the artery by centimeters. She choked, but somehow her hand seized his collar, and she yanked his head down to painfully collide with hers.
Stars flashed across his vision, and Kakashi nearly blacked out. Kami, she hits hard...
Tsunade shoved him off, and rolled over, hacking and coughing. She pressed a hand to her throat. "What—what the hell was that?"
An ANBU kill strike. Kakashi clutched his head, fingers digging into his scalp. Why... why would he...?
He pushed to his feet. It didn't matter. He was done here. "I win."
"You—" Tsunade coughed again. "Wait!"
Kakashi started across the clearing, blinking away the dark spots swimming in his vision. His hands were trembling, so he shoved them in his pockets.
Tsunade didn't try to follow, but her stare burned into his back as Kakashi quickened his pace and shoved blindly into the forest. Why would he remember Rin at a time like this? It had been years since he'd had a relapse, and he had never, never let anyone see him in this state. Not even Minato-sensei.
Fool. He had panicked and lost control.
A flicker of red and white brought him crashing back to the present. Kakashi halted.
Visible even in the shadows of dusk, the Sandaime stood only yards away, white and red robes spotless. A wisp of smoke drifted from his lips as he lowered his pipe and fixed dark, unreadable eyes on Kakashi. "Hatake-san. Where might you be going at this late hour?"
Why was the Sandaime lurking in the forests around the training grounds? Was he waiting for him?
Kami. He had forgotten about the ANBU. Had they seen his spar with Tsunade?
Kakashi's presence of mind caught up in time to offer a slight bow. "Sandaime-sama. I have finished my duties, so I was returning to the front of the training grounds to wait for Sakumo-san."
Was that what he was doing? He couldn't remember. Had he planned on walking until he ran into something that stopped him?
The Sandaime eyed him. "Had a tough afternoon?"
Kakashi blinked, and dropped his gaze to his sweat-stained clothes, covered with dirt and bits of grass. His chest still ached, and every breath came out in a wheeze. "Sparred with one of your students."
"Hmm." The Sandaime's mouth twitched upward. "Tsunade, I assume? She isn't one to pull punches."
It was that obvious? His flashback of Rin was the last thing he wanted to think about, and he was past caring about appearances, even to the Sandaime. "Did you need something, Sandaime-sama?"
The Sandaime raised a dark eyebrow at his rudeness, but he only brought his pipe back up to his lips for another draw. "I haven't spoken to you since your arrival, so I merely wanted to inquire to your situation. How are you finding life in Konoha?"
The Sandaime had gone out of his way to find him in a dark forest for that? Kakashi squeezed his hands into fists, still in his pockets. He needed to get a grip. None of them trusted him, save for Sakumo, and what he had done to Tsunade tonight wasn't going to help him. "Fine. Sakumo-san has been very accommodating."
"Good, good." The Sandaime smiled. "If you are ever in need, please let me know."
Kakashi bowed again. "Thank you, Sandaime-sama."
"Of course." The Sandaime brushed ash from the front of his robes. "Have there been any changes with your memories recently?"
"No."
"I see. That is regrettable." The Sandaime puffed his pipe thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, I will have to keep you under probation for now. However, I have sent a message to the Uzushio council inquiring about a Hatake Kakashi who may have been enlisted in their ANBU force. Rest assured, we will have answers soon enough."
Sent... a message to Uzushio? Once the Sandaime read Uzushio's reply, his life here was as good as over.
Sakumo. Ehana.
Had he failed his parents before he even had the chance to save them?
No. He needed to think this through. If he had a way to keep the message from the Sandaime's hands... or perhaps find a way to replace the original...
"When did you send the message?" At the Sandaime's raised eyebrow, Kakashi lowered his gaze and added, "I am eager for answers."
"I understand. I entrusted Orochimaru with the task yesterday," the Sandaime said. "Strangely, he requested the duty himself. I assume he has sent the message, but you will have to ask him yourself."
Orochimaru. Of course, it would be him.