I got quite the outpouring of support about the Angst rating/not rating last chapter, so thank you! I'm not the sort of person to find my own humour funny and it's quite sarcastic, so I was starting to doubt myself.
Then I remember that I made my whole college class riot for two minutes straight because I accidentally sassed the teacher.
Long story.
So, Kimimaro's annoyed himself straight into Gatou's lap(aka, the Kiri-nin strategically went YEET) and Kakashi's in Denial about his attitude toward Kimimaro. And Gatou seems to have a sinister plot involving the Harbourmaster.
Also, the fluff snuck up on me out of nowhere. Contains foreshadowing for future plot.
Part 5: SharinganEye
It was not the first time a child had been sent to the basement facilities of No.3 Kanden Avenue, aka Gatou's Offices, aka That Asshole's Place.
But it was the first time that a child had been bodily thrown down the short flight stairs by one of Gatou's henchmen, landed on his feet like a cat despite bound hands, and yelled back the phrase "YOUR MOTHER WAS A LEPROUS CUTTLEFISH AND YOUR FATHER WAS A TAPEWORM FROM A FIVE-LEGGED CAMEL'S ASSCRACK!"
His answer was the iron-bound door loudly slamming and bolting. "Rude."
Ropes from his wrists mysteriously falling apart, he dusted himself off and looked towards the wide-eyed servants still stood staring in disbelief. "Oh, hi, hello. Don't worry, I'm from the Union. Judging from your slightly-tattered clothing, general signs of exhaustion and food deprivation, you've all been feeling somewhat repressed recently?"
"Uh...Union?"
The four-year-old visibly deflated. "Humour deprivation, it's worse than we thought," he muttered. "Never mind!" He added, clapping his hands and making them all start. "Can someone pull these off for me?" He held out his bared forearms, showing them the paper tags with squiggly lines drawn on. "The wearer can't remove them themselves, that's all; don't worry, they won't explode and I don't bite people unless they're trying to hurt me."
One man in a faded apron with both arms spattered with burn scars approached cautiously, then less cautiously as he realised the child was so small and easy to defend against. Quickly slipping a nail under the papers' edge, he ripped them off as fast as he could, sidling back out of reach.
The only reaction was a sigh and the boy rubbing his arms with a shiver, before cracking his knuckles. "Right. explanations. Name's Kimimaro, I'm a shinobi from Konohagakure no Sato and I got separated from my comrade while on a mission to take down Gatou. Long story short, I'm waiting for my rescue down here now because I expressed my extreme dislike to That Asshole Gatou upstairs. To his face.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say you lot are the staff; cooking, cleaning and serving and all that? Do you have names?"
"Yes. And yes," the guy in the apron said gruffly, folding his arms. The silence hung in the air between them like a rock on a piece of string; heavy, awkward and somehow weirdly graceful. Until the boy chuckled.
"You. I like you. Can I have your name?"
"Inoue."
"Nice. Excuse me a moment, I need to stretch." With that blasé phrase, Kimimaro removed another paper something from the back of his neck and promptly grew to twice his height and changed.
The silvery hair became just plain white, with a zig-zag parting and three ponytails held with red clips. Scarlet bloomed on brow and under pale green eyes, the face thinner with a star-shaped scar on one cheek.
"Aaaaauuuugghh!" He groaned, flexing his limbs and torso. "Ah ah, fuck! Fucking cramp, leg, ow! Hang on, it's fine, ow, okay it's gone now. Uh, oh yeah...'"
The splint that had been on one bruised wrist clattered to the floor, the injured appendage held gingerly. Without warning, bone slid from the skin halfway down the forearm, a tripod of spikes arcing gently over the skin, branches melding in a network of support, until they slid back into the skin just under the palm.
The boy felt the makeshift brace. "Better. Now; I'mma gonna teach you to make pasta."
"...-story short, the evil black goo is a Mummy's Boy, all those conspiracy theories about people having lived on the moon are true and you should always carry a towel whenever possible. Got any threes, Inoue-san? Oh, hi Kakashi-shishou!"
Kakashi felt the urge to slap his own face. Repeatedly. And apologise to Shisui for ever making fun of him. "Oh sweet student of mine, care to explain why you've barricaded off the basement levels of Gatou's building, several of his men are lying dead in the corridors by varying causes of death and you're playing Go Fish with the staff?"
His cute little student blinked up at him innocently. "Well, for some reason the Kiri-nin freaked out once they saw my tekko-kagi and gave me to Gatou after confiscating all of my stuff, Gatou himself is a jerk so I told him so to his face among other observations and I got chucked down here. Gatou mistreats his staff, which made me slightly angry, so I decided that I'd better found a Union and have them go on strike.
Then, when Gatou took exception to that and his men tried to storm our little barricade I retaliated in kind, but it wasn't all me. Personally, I think it's been good for these guys to express themselves against their oppressors and Inoue-san here has a rather masterful way with a bread knife."
Kakashi's eye widened as he saw the bottles tucked in the corner and his nose picked up the faint underlying scent of the contents of the empty ones. "Did you make chlorine bottle bombs!? This is an enclosed space! You know better than that; remedial training for you once we get home young man."
"Awww..."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, brat. Now, are you injured?"
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine."
"He has a broken wrist," the man in the apron, seemingly named Inoue-san, muttered shyly.
Kimimaro squawked in protest as Kakashi was at his side in a blink, crouched down and gently seizing the wrist which he could now see had a lattice of bone splinting it. As well as the purplish bruises of fingers. "I'm going to kill them," he breathed.
Kimimaro blinked owlishly. "I thought we were going to do that anyway."
"Yes, but now I'm going to make it slow and excruciatingly painful," he growled. "C'mon, we need to leave; I found the Harbourmaster and we need to change our plans."
"Yeah, okay," he climbed to his feet, revealing that a familiar plush wolf had been tucked into his side, under his arm and out of sight.
"I thought you said all your stuff was confiscated?" Kakashi enquired, curious. Kimimaro chewed on his own lip with a shrug.
"I insisted, and they gave up pretty quick. 'S mine. You gave it to me."
A sudden, unexpected warmth bloomed in Kakashi's torso, as if someone had poured hot water into his guts. He bit down on the growl that threatened to escape, instead bodily scooping up his annoying little student, prompting another squawk.
"Inoue-san, thank you for taking care of him. I'll leave you an exit, in case your standoff gets hairy."
Inoue blinked. "Um, what ex-?" He was cut off as the silver-haired shinobi flashed his fingers in different positions, and the wall opened up into a tunnel, which the two figures then disappeared down. "Oh. That exit. Shinobi. Right."
The rain thundered down in an unending curtain.
High above the streets, in the empty floor of a condemned tower, one shattered wall open to the elements, Kimimaro's head drooped against Kakashi's flak jacket, then snapped up again with a sleepy mumble. Kakashi wrapped the thick black cloak he had kept from his ANBU service tighter around them both. "It's okay, get some sleep; rest up."
With a slight wince as Kimimaro burrowed deeper into his side - the boy was all elbows, it's ridiculous - Kakashi took a moment to ask himself what the hell was happening. Was it normal to get so... concerned about your student? Even now, despite having healed Kimimaro's wrist over two hours ago, just thinking about it brought a furious rage to his mind. Never before had he gotten this emotional over a simple injury; not even when Tenzo was just starting out in his squad.
Tenzo was getting pretty attached to little Naruto, actually; after only a few interactions. This was probably the same thing, but stronger because Kimimaro had known him for longer. And there was most likely some lingering guilt over all the comrades he had lost over the years, that's all.
And it was only common sense to give Kimimaro some of the quality weaponry from the Hata… the Clan armoury. There was the peace of mind from knowing that the metal and forging were top-notch and it wasn't like anybody else was using them, anyway.
Kimimaro twitched in his sleep, and Kakashi glanced down. He re-tucked the cloak around the smaller form where it had slipped off, but his eye caught on the glimpse of cheap grey fur.
Why had Kimimaro kept the toy?
It had just been a cheap gag, a passing thought; Kakashi had been sure that it had been lost in the scuffle, or surreptitiously 'lost' when his back had been turned. Was it the fact it had been a gift? As far as he knew, Kimimaro had never received any before. Was that what Kimimaro had meant when he had said 'you gave it to me'? That must be it.
Outside, thunder rumbled, lightning lighting up the clouds from inside.
Kakashi found his eyelids drooping. Kimimaro hadn't slept since the ferry ride and neither had he, after all. They'd already discussed their course of action and they had plenty of time until everything needed to be set up for the Business Gala. He could afford to catch a quick nap. And the weight of his brilliant little student curled up under his ribcage made for a surprisingly warm hot-water bottle.
The brooding red sun peeked above the waves, the pale violet sky stained grey with sweeping sheets of rain; masts, cranes and rooves glowing with flickering turquoise sparks.
"Isn't the storm beautiful, Kashi?"
Oh, that was right. The last time he'd truly appreciated a storm like this, the last time he'd seen his father laugh...
They were so high up, on top of one of the thin spired peaks behind Konoha's plateau. Rain plastered the thin casual clothes to their skin. All around them, blue and violet lightning hissed and hummed, making the grass and shrubby plants glow with an unearthly light. It was utterly mesmerising, the way the air crackled and licked across wet skin. Heartbeats rattled in their chests as Sakumo held a small, captivated Kakashi in his arms.
Glowing eyes, white hot teeth.
"You think this is amazing, Kashi, you should see some of the storms from the old Clan Territory!" He laughed. "This is just a taste. Isn't it sublime!?"
Not afraid.
His father had been magnificent.
That had been the man who the Sannin had paled in comparison against, the one who had ravaged battlefields with the fury of the heavens condensed into a single blade.
...
How long had it been since Kakashi had remembered him as anything other than a broken, faded shadow, or a blank-eyed, cooling corpse? Too long.
Was that all his father was to him now? A ghost to weigh him down with bitter memories? Yet there were more, warmer, things he could recall now, now that he focused.
The ragged patch of stubble below his left ear that he'd miss when shaving.
Shuffling along the carpet in thick wool socks in the winter, to prick each other with static electricity.
"What are you doing up this time of night, Kashi?"
The thick, sugary taste of buttercream icing on cake and a snort of laughter as a camera clicks.
"You're not gonna sink Kashi, I'm right here, just keep kicking...'"
Lungs shuddering with laughter at some inane radio comedy even as Kakashi's head droops onto a bare shoulder.
"Don't take the mask off, Kakashi. It's important that nobody sees your mouth, until you've mastered the Clan Techniques."
"Sandaime Hokage-sama, might I present my son, the Hatake Clan Heir, Kakashi Hatake."
Warm calloused fingers, still greasy with weapon oil, ruffling his hair.
"Hey, you okay?"
A small, sleepy voice broke him from his thoughts.
He was about to say his usual stock response of 'I'm fine', but something made it die in his throat. Instead;
"Yeah, just thinking about the past."
"Huh. I usually end up thinking about the future," came a quiet, nonsensical admission.
Kakashi thought of the steely certainty of the past, then wondered at the shifting uncertainties of the future as well. "Anything good in there?"
Distant lightning striking an inky horizon illuminated everything in a flash of sickly white light; stark, void-filled shadows seemingly stabbing into the fabric of reality. Thunder bellowed with the death-rattles of Dragons.
"There's too much change," came a whisper.
Kakashi almost missed the last few words.
.
.
.
"But there's always hope. Hope's a good one. And that makes it worth it."
"Excited, my heartsblood?"
Chinatsu, Ane-ue of the Wanitei, didn't bother turning around. "We hunt tonight, dearest hunger," she hummed softly as she polished he sword. The water turned red, and the smell of meat filled the room.
He sat down at her side, just behind her, taking off the tri-pronged fishing spear slung over his back and setting it down beside him. Deft fingers unbraided her bangs, the comb, coloured cloths and hair-tie carefully set aside. Oiling his fingers from a small alabaster jar, the Tsuri-ou, or Fisher King, of the Wanitei began to comb his wife's hair. The thick curls were teased out with perfumed oil, snags gently unknotted and stray hairs slicked down until Chinatsu's black mane shone in the lamplight.
"When we get 'ome, I'll make grilled eel," he broke the silence unexpectedly, the comment startling a wry, bemused smile from her.
"Why the sudden romance, Hakkai?"
"Shan't we be celebra'ing Gatou's death?" He blinked innocently. "I know shinobi in general t'ink 'e's better alive than dead, because of t' safety of predictability, but I know t'at spark in your eyes."
"You see right through me," she grinned wickedly. "What do you think of the Lost one?"
Hakkai gently kissed her shoulder, before beginning to twist up her hair into a tight war-knot. "Hatake is a farmer's name. Disgraceful. Completely outrageous, t' erase half of one's name. I'd understand if 'is line had simply selected another name. But 'is eyes...'"
"What did you see, dearest sin of my flesh?"
"Pain," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "Determination. Love; and 'e says t' boy is not 'is son, ha!"
Her hair finished, he wiped his hands on a rag.
"People over here mean by blood, Hakkai-koi. But then again, he is probably blind that his heart has claimed the boy as his child." Chinatsu put down her sword and leaned back until she pressed against his chest, drawing a soothing rumble from him. "Did you see their faces when they found out who you were, precious bones?"
"T'at we both wear t' scales of Ani-ue should 'ave been a clue, my love," he murmured. "Speaking of which, they are all very angry t'at they were slipped past so easily. They want blood, as you do. But I can't guarantee they won't go after the Lost one and 'is boy in all the confusion."
"If they let themselves be pushed back to the water's edge, it's their own weakness to blame," she shrugged. "I doubt they're that weak, though."
"Don't you t'ink it's ironic?" Hakkai asked. "One of t' last of t'at particular Clan adopting a child of the Usagi?"
"You forget, my love," Chinatsu laughed. "Irony is loved by Kami and Dragons alike, for it is their only weapon against the unbeliever."
"Desist stealing from the buffet, you tiny maniac," Kakashi hissed. "You're going to make yourself sick."
"Shinobi have a higher metabolism, and I'm the same height as you," I mumbled around a mouthful of karinto sticks. It's odd to see Kakashi-shishou Henged as a Wanitei; dark skin, red eyes, curly black hair and all.
And I'm Henged as an adult Wanitei too. Adult.
"You ate only a short while ago; your metabolism's not that high. And you're a full inch shorter than me, for the record." He snatched the platter away from me.
But seriously, why lay out a buffet if you don't want people to eat from it? And it's not like it's a small buffet; the table is ginormous!
Not that I've...seen that...many buffets...
Still, the table stretches from one end to the other of the giant function room that's been hired for this Business Gala soiree. Exotic food galore! Some of it I definitely want to try, preferably before the fighting starts. Some, I will definitely not be trying.
The ningyo soup I might try, but the ningyo roe is too far over the creepy line.
Ningyo/mer-people are a thing, but they're more like oddly-human-faced seal-fish than the mythological sapiens-piscine hybrids you see bandied about.
Moving on from the fish section, there's...mice?...hamster?...small roasted rodent of some description. Eergh; bony. And...racked ribs of boar and deer, nice. Poultry wings and legs, hmm'kay...ooh! Blueberry! Blueberry tart in the sweet section! Me, me me memememe bagsie!
And the snack section, from which I've been trenching through the karinto. Y'know, I'm not usually a big fan, but they've kind of grown on me over the past hour and I'm starting to see why Yuyu likes them.
"Save some for us, Bitesize," the guard...or should I say, the Prince-Consort equivalent of the Wanitei… said, coming over and taking a handful. "I want t' eat before t' violence starts."
"I suppose I should thank you now then, for trying to save me when they took me," I murmured quietly. But he waved it off.
"Nah. You paid t'at debt when you told us about Gatou's plan and 'elped set everyt'ing up." He looked at Kakashi-shishou. "Did you get everyt'ing?"
He nodded. "Yes; when I broke in to get Kimimaro out of the building. Don't worry; I made it look like nothing was taken."
All further conversation was cut off, by the chiming of a crystal glass being tapped. All of the murmured conversation came to a halt as Gatou, flanked by his two henchmen pseudo-samurai, entered the doorway. A woman in an official haori trailed behind him, barred in by the three remaining Kiri-nin.
Fresh whispering broke out at the sight; why had Gatou led them in and not the Harbourmaster? Why were there ninja guarding her? Would there finally be answers as to why the Gala had been set up in the first place?
"Ladies, gentlemen, if I might have your attention." Gatou smiled toothily as he made his way to the podium at the front of the room.
"This is truly a joyous occasion, the appointment of a new Harbourmaster, and I am honoured, truly, to take this office upon myself."
Stunned silence.
But the multitude of eyes surreptitiously sought out the suddenly frail-looking Harbourmaster, looking tired and drawn under her makeup, and understood. Several stepped forward as if to protest, but the two henchmen conspicuously putting their hands to their sword hilts made them retreat back into the crowd. One elderly CEO did not.
"There are too many witnesses, Gatou, for you to cut us all down" he called out, leaning heavily on his cane. "And only you and yours walking out of here alive would be too coincidental to ignore."
The toothy grin widened. "True, true. Don't think I don't know about the sword you keep in that cane and your past as a ninja, Osamu Jun. But you have no choice; after all, the Wanitei are about to make a grab for power, taking advantage of an innocent gathering to savage all of Benisu's CEOs and Harbourmaster, and blow up your ships. Such a tragedy."
Chinatsu-ane-ue stepped forward, hair curled back in a tight bun and red eyes burning with marsh-light and bone-fire. "You've been after access to our yards and shipping lanes for years, Gatou, don't fool yourself into thinking we trusted you all this time. You've been blackmailing Harbourmaster Isa Himonoya into handing over her position, and then you frame my people and paint yourself as a victim; you are lower than any worm, parasite!"
The grin dissolved into a thin-lipped smirk, as Gatou reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a small, one-button remote. "Sticks and stones, swamp-rat, sticks and stones...'"
His thumb came down on the button.
In the distance, even through the large, panoramic windows, you could see the glimmer of blue-green fire and hear the muffled WHUMPH as bundles of Bluefire powder caught alight.
But it didn't come from the docks.
Gatou stood horror-struck as No.3 Kanden Avenue went up in smoke.
*Drags self out from piles of fluff and plot*
Oh, poor Kakashi; he's caught a bad case of the Feelings.
And if you mix vinegar with bleach, it makes the highly dangerous chlorine gas, aka, mustard gas. Which irritates your respiratory system, then melts it when it meets the water in your mucus and turns to acid.
Okay, one more chapter in this Venture Arc to go, then an Interlude or two before the Poison Arc.
For more, heart-shattering feels, my fic recommendation is As Is the Sea Marvelous by black. . Yes, it's slash, but slow burn and only a single kiss and pondering of feelings of attraction. If that's still not your cup of tea, only read up to chapter 8.
There's plenty of Angst, complete with suicidal thoughts/self-sacrifice. But Izuna is an adorkable ball of back-sass, the kittens are cute and Tobirama needs(and kind of gets) all the hugs. And it's kind of a fix-it fic, so there's a happy ending, of a sort.