Naruto: A Red Eye Hidden by Shadow

by Tatanka4Life

On the fateful night of the Uchiha Massacre, a girl of Uchiha and Nara blood is spared and left with no memories of her past. Now she must walk on the path left by her family to help her build a new future for herself. Her path will be hard, full of struggles and pain, but as long as she has her friends and family at her side she will keep forging ahead, even if it was a drag.

145. Chapter 144: Intersecting Paths

Chapter 144

Intersecting Paths: What a Sword Can Be and a New Envoy!

Amari awoke on her side in bed the morning after the prison break.

Although her eyes remained shut, she could tell the morning sun was shining through the window, glimmering off Haku's ice flower, glaring across the wooden floor between her desk and her bed on a long path to paint a sheathe of light over her face. She knew it by how bright the darkness had become.

Instantly, she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, groaning softly and nuzzling her head deeper into her pillow.

She didn't want to get up. Nope. She wanted to flick a mental switch and return her mind to the world of dreams. She couldn't even remember what she was dreaming of—it didn't matter.

Anything would be better than the awful feeling she was now conscious of.

She groaned lowly into her pillow.

Everything ached. Every muscle was stiff as a dry noodle, and felt equally as fragile.

I earned it.

She had earned it like a prize ribbon for winning in an ice cream eating contest, except this award was for winning the highest number of brain freezes and left her curled up on the floor, ruining any possible enjoyment of the treat.

Perhaps it was rightfully deserved, but boy was it a drag. A big, stupid, aching drag she didn't want to deal with. She wondered if she could bury her head in her pillow, fall asleep and enter a sort of stasis or hibernation until it all went away.

I punished my body yesterday, she assessed. And I can feel it. Ughhhhh.

Flopping off her side and onto her back, the Nara heaved her sore and heavy arm over her eyes, blocking the light out before exhaling a long breath.

Mornings like these were such a drag.

Beneath the blankets she stretched her legs out and flexed her feet.

At that moment, her aching ankle overthrew the other aches and declared itself loudly by way of triumphant horns as Queen. It declared itself the ruler of all aches, the one ache which bound them together in agony and united them in its glorious empire of pain.

Her face scrunched into a mild grimace in response, as if she'd tasted an extremely tart lemon and had no choice but to eat it all to survive starvation.

She groaned again, one part in pain, one part in annoyance. Of all the stupid injuries she'd ever had, having her ankle pierced by a tree branch was easily in the top three of a stiff competition.

It was fighting neck and neck, tooth and nail, with the Forest of Death and the surgeries those injuries—self-inflicted and otherwise—caused. Neither had yet topped the intense pain of the Lightning Blade. With luck nothing ever would.

I really hope I didn't injure it again.

Being off-duty this long had been a significant setback already, evident by how quickly her stamina had depleted the day before in training and throughout the incident.

The Nara didn't want to see how much more rust would accumulate after another two or three months of no activity.

For some time, Amari lay beneath the sheet, sore arm slung over her eyes, wiggling her toes, flexing her feet, rolling her ankles and stretching out her legs; the stretch sent a sudden shock of pain shooting up her leg when her right quadricep contracted with all the violent zeal of an executioner who found perverted pleasure in his job.

Had she the energy she may have yelped. Instead the noise to leave her was a sharp inhale followed by an immensely annoyed grunt.

The second time it happened a bucket of ice water may as well have poured over her head, the sharp contraction had the same waking effect, and the same annoyance the ice bucket would have stirred in her heart.

There would be no returning to the cushy plane of dreams, Amari knew, where she wished ice cream and cookies were waiting for her, alongside mountains of cheesecakes drizzled with blueberries.

There, among rolling hills of macarons, she could feast for all eternity without any consequences or anxieties of war.

"Is it the sweets you seek, little one? I heard you saw heaven."

Cheeks flushing, Amari buried her warm face into her sore hands.

It was the sweets, she swore. The delectable sweets that her sweet soul had been searching for over the eons, wandering through time and space, yearning to even glimpse the heavenly kingdom of insatiable treats she'd seen in a dream.

Mr. Kojima's confections shop was everything she had dreamed of. Better, in fact. And as the self-declared Soul of Sweets she couldn't help but seek to glimpse them again. Even if only in a dream.

She had definitely not been thinking or dreaming of…beholding the soft, enviable splendor of the cotton candy pink hills Mina Ashido had accidentally smothered her face with. Of course, although tugged against her will, it was still as heavenly as diving face first into a hill of real cotton candy.

But that was definitely not a dreamland she revisited.

Nope!

"I also recall hearing there is a plane of existence that surpasses the satisfaction of sweets."

Groaning again in embarrassment, she flopped back onto her side.

Okay, yes, there absolutely was a plane of existence beyond sweets, one she could recall vividly. One she had recalled since.

Never before had she felt the electricity tingle through her hypersensitive skin like it had that day.

However, when she reminisced on the moment—their moment—the sensations came flooding back.

Again she found herself there. She could feel the tingle and tickle of electricity across her hypersensitive skin, she could feel heat irradiate off her body and the frenzy of butteries flapping their wings in her tummy, and she could see that violet gaze staring warmly, passionately, lovingly, and cheekily into her mismatched eyes.

Amari could feel it all. She could feel Yukiko's manicured nails gently dragging up the inside of her thigh, and she felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

She could feel Yukiko's fingertips gliding tenderly over her hypersensitive skin, along her arm, down her thigh, giving her gooseflesh everywhere and incensing the butterflies to flutter faster.

Next she remembered the pleasant electric jolt of Yukiko's lips pressing against her knee, against the back of her hand, which was intertwined with the aspiring Hero's, and then how it felt as she trailed kisses down her neck. The way her gentle touches and those kisses harmonized and left her swooning.

Yukiko's hand had come to cup her warm cheek, and then her scarred lips, soft and tender, pressed against hers in a short kiss—a test to see if it was okay.

Later there was more. Deeper kisses. Longer. Longing. Yearning for a selfish dream they knew couldn't be.

Shutting her eyes, Amari was able to feel Yukiko's warmth laying in front of her.

Vividly, she remembered those beautiful violet eyes, their storm calmed and calming. Vividly, she felt her fingertips gently sketching faint, indistinguishable designs along her forearms. She could hear her breaths and feel them brush against her skin.

And for a moment it was as if Amari entered a place beyond time where Yukiko was really laying in bed with her. There were no aches or stiffness, no stress or thoughts of what awaited them in their futures.

Yukiko's fingers ran up underside of her forearm, presently facing towards the ceiling with her palm, which the older girl's fingertips tickled when she reached it. Amari stifled a giggle, and could see the roughish smile on her kindred spirit's face.

Lovingly, Yukiko entwined their fingers and began to caress her thumb along the back of her hand.

I miss you, she thought.

In response, Yukiko smiled warmly, reassuringly, and then she leaned in, pressing her lips to her forehead first. Then to her lips.

With the opening of her eyes, Amari found herself back in her quiet room, staring at the empty space on her bed. Her fingers were curled shut around a hand that did not exist.

The kunoichi's eyes drifted to the picture Yukiko had drawn of them, and they fixated onto her violet gaze.

After a moment she turned onto her back again and sat up. She ran her fingers through her wild mane of tousled bed hair, draping over her shoulders and down her back, and extended her elbows out like she was spreading her wings, doing a short little rock side to side while extending her toes out again beneath the bed sheets.

It's a drag, but I need to get moving, she thought, lowering her arms. I'll never be cleared for missions if I stay in bed all day. We made a promise to Lady Mito to search for answers. And the only answers I'm going to find here are what adolescent hormones plus vivid memories turn into.

There were worse answers to search for, she decided. Intimacy and feel-good hormones went hand in hand, according to her medic-nin sister, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in intimacy, just as Hikari had told Gaara.

Either way, she buckled down her morning thoughts of love and intimacy and slipped out of bed to start the day. She started with a final morning stretch, rising onto her tiptoes and reaching her hands into the sky, groaning at the pleasant release of tension in her sore back and legs.

Her ankle was stronger than it had been, she assessed, but the dull ache tempered her expectations of authorization for active duty.

I think I'll wear my brace today, Amari decided, heading to her closet to pick out her clothes first. Better to be proactive than end up sitting out of missions for a whole month. That'd just be troublesome.

She had had enough of sitting around. Of waiting to train. Of stewing inside walls while the world slowly teetered closer and closer to the edge of war.

Once inside the shower she considered her experiences with the Cloud shinobi and Lady Mito. In their own ways they'd made the urgency to take action all the more apparent.

There was no time to waste.

She couldn't blaze a trail while sitting in place. She couldn't gain the necessary power to combat the Foundation, the Akatsuki, Kasai, Orochimaru and figure out the Masked Man's endgame without training. Without challenges.

She couldn't reach Itachi and Aimi in time to save them if she didn't start pushing forward. She couldn't search for answers to peace—both her own and for the world—inside of a cage.

She had to act. She had to walk her path.

A path she now had no doubts on after witnessing peripherally and learning of Mr. Anbu's and Miss Anbu's abilities.

Entering the Anbu Black Ops alongside Sasuke, Mimi and Aoko was the only way forward she could see.

I can't grow impatient, she reprimanded herself while lukewarm rained on her from the shower head. She hugged her arms over her belly and shut her eyes. Impatience will only lead me astray. Focus on improving each day. That's all I can do.

Today that meant having her ankle checked and discussing her decision to join the Anbu with her mother and Kakashi. She could do that today, even though the whole thing still felt pretty unnerving.

Amari worried they would disapprove. Like with Itachi and Aimi approving her decision to save them, she needed them–her mother and her mentor—to approve and support her decision to join the ranks of the Anbu, because their opinions, and that of Atsuko's, her uncle's and her aunt's, mattered to her. Their feelings mattered to her.

And she trusted them to pull her from the darkness if she had chosen the wrong path.

I hope they'll listen.

The warm water felt good on her achy muscles. She savored it as she washed her hair and body. Not all was peaceful, though.

Despite all they learned from Mito, or perhaps because of it, Kasai's obsessed voice infiltrated her mind.

"Don't you see, old friend, how poetic this is? I've inherited Madara Uchiha's ideals and mutated them into my ninja way."

Mutated is right. Amari frowned and rubbed her hands up and down her wet biceps.

He'd taken Madara's Will after he was twisted by darkness into his wretched heart and mutated her great-great grandfather's ideals and dreams to match his conquest to destroy the current world, its systems and all that she loved.

It made her wonder about the Masked Man and his true identity.

Was he really her great-great grandfather, lost in the darkness and hatred he'd become consumed by?

Or was he another Uchiha, misunderstanding or twisting his legacy so it suited his own goals?

"Before Yua's murder," she recalled Mito's lesson, "my husband and Madara realized their grand dream of peace would be impossible to achieve in the short span of a single lifetime. Even for them.

"They saw their impatience and laughed at how brash and ambitious they were as children. While they vowed their search for an answer was far from over, together they decided to entrust their dream of peace to their children and the children of the Leaf. Their dreams, their Wills, their hopes and love for the Leaf and its people, they are the flames from which the Will of Fire was born."

Out of the shower, Amari flattened her lips together while wrapping herself in a towel. She stepped across the cold tile to the bathroom mirror, ruminating while preparing for the day.

At the bottom of the Valley of the End's Waterfall, while floating like driftwood in the stream as the Masked Man knelt before her speaking his honeyed words, she sensed there was truth in what he said. She sensed his loss and his pain over losing the woman he loved.

For a brief moment he hesitated. He hesitated at the metaphorical hand she reached out, as she asked him to help her change the world and bring about Madara's true Will.

Looking back, she hadn't known enough of the real Madara then. She'd only had a vague idea—a hope, really—based on limited information from Kasai's history lesson and Atsuko's hint there was more to her great-great grandfather than what either ancestor of Senju and Uchiha knew.

Since then Atsuko and Lady Mito had pulled the shadowy veil of the skewed textbook story written by Tobirama Senju, who not only bore the responsibility of her great-great grandfather's fall into darkness, but had written him to be a heartless villain in the tale of Hashirama and Madara.

The knowledge she now possessed offered new perspective of a man she'd only known as the most infamous defector of the Leaf.

It granted her insight that would not only prove valuable in the future for discovering the Masked Man's true identity, but possibly a chance to pull him off his dark path, to grant him a second-chance at peace that he'd had stolen from him.

If he's reasonable, she thought. If there is any truth to his feelings. If he really is my great-great grandfather.

If I can forgive him for killing my parents.

Time would tell.

Refreshed and ready for the day, Amari exited the bathroom after finishing her morning routine, bandana tied around her wrist and Clan crests necklace resting on the warm, exposed flesh beneath her clavicle.

The two-sizes too big fuchsia top hung loosely off her lithe and fit frame, flowing gently as she moved through the hall and to her room to acquire her ankle brace.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she performed a few physical therapy exercises before slipping the brace on. The extra support was nice. Annoying that it was necessary, but nice all the same.

Once it was on she made for the kitchen, descending the stairs, footfalls light as though to avoid disturbing the peaceful quiet of her home. The kunoichi's ears perked up at the foot of the stairs when she heard the murmur of a voice that did not belong to her mother inside the kitchen.

Kakashi-sensei? I was so deep in my thoughts I didn't even sense him arrive.

It wasn't an unwelcome surprise, though. With his arrival she could knock out her goal for the day at the top of the morning.

At the entry of the kitchen, where she could see Kakashi seated at the kitchen table, a stack of journals resting beside him, and her mother leaning against the cabinetry dressed in a white blouse printed with cherry blossoms and red pants, Amari knocked her knuckles lightly on the doorframe to courteously announce her presence.

Courteous, but unnecessary; they picked up on her chakra and scent when she was at the top of the stairs.

"Good morning," she greeted them.

Kakashi, attired in his shinobi gear, eye smiled in greeting.

"Good morning, Amari."

"Did you sleep well, little one?" Kurenai smiled.

"I think I was too exhausted not to, honestly."

"How is your ankle feeling?"

"Sore and achy." She looked down and rotated her ankle. "I can walk on it without the brace, I just figured it would be better to use it. Even if it is a drag."

Later, after breakfast, she intended to either seek Mimi out for a check-up, or to stop by the hospital for the same reason if the Inuzuka was too busy

The location of the original injury could've ended her shinobi career without the existence of Medical Ninjutsu, but that didn't necessarily mean she was out of the woods; injure or strain the same area repeatedly, or too soon in the recovery process, and Medical Ninjutsu wouldn't be enough to heal it. Especially if it was left unchecked.

"How are you holding up, Kakashi-sensei?" Amari asked, lifting her head to look at her teacher.

"My ankles are fine," he replied so sincerely she almost missed the hint of cheek in his voice.

Amari rolled her eyes, smiling. "I would hope so, troublesome adult." Kakashi chuckled lightly. "I know Mom and Asuma-sensei were caught in the prison break. Did you face similar trouble?"

"Nothing as dangerous as their situation," he replied honestly. "My experience was… Hm. Let's say it was a long evening stroll along life's complicated path. Nothing out of the ordinary, really," Kakashi made a relaxed gesture with his hand, dismissing his own part of the incident as nothing important.

"Mmhm."

She doubted it was so ordinary, or anything remotely like an evening stroll. She could see through his aloof display as if looking at molecules beneath a microscope.

But Kakashi generally had good reasons for ambiguity. And she knew when to drop a subject.

"Anyway, enough about me," Kakashi effortlessly redirected their conversation. "We need to discuss your journals," he said, lightly nudging the stack of journals with his gloved knuckles.

The kunoichi blinked. Examined the spines of the journals, went wide eyed as she realized that they were, in fact, the journals belonging to her family, and snapped around with Byakugan activated to check her drawers.

They were empty, of course. The journals were here, in the kitchen, apparently in Kakashi's possession for an unknown amount of time. It was a startling revelation, one that made her stomach fall.

Someone could have stolen them in the incident while I was away, or while Mom and I are gone on missions, and I wouldn't have noticed. I didn't check it regularly. I thought as long as it was in our home, in my drawers, it was safe.

Turning around, Byakugan deactivated and lips flattened together, Amari began mentally kicking herself hard. She was still acting so naïvely. She was acting as though her home was impenetrable despite the Invasion, despite the Akatsuki's infiltration, despite the recent incident.

Even when the truth of her bloodline—specifically being an Uchiha—would eventually be widely known by the Leaf, drawing the eyes and scrutiny of their enemies, she behaved as a child who believed a locked door, a locked window and a defensive wall would keep someone who wanted to break in from doing so.

And the journals, though locked and sealed, though potentially crucial to their efforts to stopping the Foundation, were swept out of her room without her even realizing it.

"How long have you had them?" she asked, worried he'd had them for weeks.

"Only for the night," he replied. It was a small relief. "I arrived here moments after you had departed with your guard and, after searching the area, I took them into my possession for safe-keeping.

"These journals," he gestured to them, "may hold the key to eventually stopping the Foundation. For now, as we said before, they're a necessary evil we can't take action against. Infighting now of all times will only hurt us when the Stone finally makes their move."

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"It's nothing to apologize for, Amari," Kakashi implored. "Don't forget, you received these journals before we even knew the Foundation was our enemy. They are locked by keys we do not possess and sealed so your chakra alone can grant access to their contents, so it is only natural we considered them safe.

"All the same, we should be more cautious. Even if they cannot see what is inside, that doesn't necessarily mean they can't destroy them and any potentially damning evidence of their past crimes."

"I can think of no safer place than with Atsuko and the Crows," Kurenai offered.

"Neither can I," Amari nodded. "I'll Seal them inside a Storage Scroll and ask Atsuko or Osamu to hold onto them. At least then they'll be out of reach of the Foundation."

"We'll leave it in their care, then," Kakashi assented to their plan.

There was nowhere safer than in the care of the Crows. Their home was a kingdom of its own, beyond the jurisdiction of Feudal Lords, Kage's and royalty, beyond the reach of mere shinobi. Similar, she supposed, to the Rain Village.

Yet, unlike the infamous security of the small reclusive Nation, no one knew where the Crows of the Leaf truly nested.

You can't infiltrate a location you can't find.

Amari shifted on her feet. Now that the matter of the journals was settled that left a small window before Kakashi would inevitably dismiss himself, and then she would have to find the courage to approach the subject of Anbu a second time, which would be a drag.

"Are you all right, little one?" Kurenai noticed and sensed her apprehension immediately.

She brought her hands together to wring them.

"There's something I need to talk to you two about… About my path forward," she started.

It was easier to say in her head when she was getting ready. Then again, that always seemed to be the case, didn't it? Like telling yourself today would be the day, today was when you would finally banish your shyness and approach the person you have a crush on to ask them out.

It all worked out perfectly in the mind. The building up of courage, the steps taken to close the distance, the words seamlessly flowing from your mouth without a hitch or a stutter or misspoken word.

In the moment, though, it was different. Suddenly your body was warm, your mouth maybe dry, your brain frantically demanding who the hell thought this was a good idea, and then your voice cracked and hitched and all the charm you thought you had went out the door in misspoken words and bad jokes that only you laughed nervously at.

Seeing their curious if not serious expressions watching her intently, their undivided attention solely on her, made her feel like she was standing in front of a classroom as a student again.

"I've thought about it a lot," she said. "Every angle, every possibility, the risks of each, and I keep coming to the same conclusion."

"The Anbu," Kurenai said it for her, expression serious. It left Amari speechless, off-balance. "Don't look so surprised. Shikaku theorized you would come to this conclusion eventually. He prepared us for it."

"…You don't like it."

"No. I don't. I have reasons for that, though."

Kakashi liked the idea even less. His eye pinned itself to the kitchen tile, he slouched in the chair and rested his forearms on his thighs, like his worst fears had finally come to pass and he was feeling the crushing weight of it all.

Quickly, Amari tried to explain her reasons. How she didn't plan to go in alone, but alongside Sasuke, Mimi and Aoko, who would watch after her as much as she would watch after them. How she hoped her uncle or the Hokage could assign them to a trustworthy Captain, someone who would never betray them, that way they would be under nonstop supervision by an elite shinobi.

Somebody like Mr. Anbu.

When that didn't seem to alleviate the burden on her Sensei's shoulders, Amari pressed on against the swelling waves of nervousness to explain that she wasn't taking the darkness of the Anbu lightly.

In her heart of hearts, the Uchiha knew she was vulnerable to it—that they all were.

However, despite their vulnerability, there was also trust. They trusted one another to prevent each other from straying too far from the light. They trusted in the people closest to them—like Kakashi, like her mother, like Hana.

They weren't going in half-cocked, she tried to reassure. They weren't pretending their current level, or current states of recovery, were enough to enter the ranks of the Anbu Black Ops.

She explained how the Anbu was practically a perfect fit for their present circumstances. After all, it was the one place their identities and movements would be kept secret from the Foundation, Orochimaru and the Masked Man.

None of it seemed to help. None of it changed the aversion or the despair her mother and sensei felt regarding their entry to the Anbu.

"If there's another path," Amari said a soft voice, shifting uncomfortably on her feet, "I'll take it. But…our team is splitting apart, Sensei. Naruto will eventually leave with Master Jiraiya. Sakura's training with Lady Tsunade will eventually consume her time. You—both of you—will have your hands full with missions. And the war."

She began to wring her hands again. "This was the only solution I could think of. A way that we can be monitored and protected by shinobi who you all trust while providing a place for Sasuke, Mimi and I to grow and gain more experience."

When she imagined how this whole conversation might play out, it occurred to her that they would disapprove of the whole idea. She even suspected her reasons might not change how they felt, as the Anbu was a Black Ops organization where she, Sasuke and Mimi would tread through darkness—darkness they were each susceptible to.

They would have their reasons, she suspected—they did, clearly. Part of her hoped they may even know of a better path, one she hadn't thought of or couldn't see because of how closely she was analyzing the situation.

Amari never imagined it would go this way, though. She never imagined it would feel like she'd taken a poison-laced blade and stabbed them in the backs.

By the atmosphere of the room she would have thought she peered into a different universe where she was witnessing their reactions to a letter detailing her reasons for abandoning the Leaf to join Orochimaru or the Masked Man.

Clutching at the hem of her shirt, Amari lowered her gaze to the tile floor.

"I'm…I'm not trying to hurt either of you," she said softly.

Silently, Kurenai crossed the floor to place her hands on Amari's shoulders, gently guiding her into a warm embrace.

Amari locked her arms around her, hugging her and resting her forehead against her mother's abdomen.

"I'm just trying to find my way forward," she whispered. "I don't want to hurt either of you."

"We know, little one," her mother soothed. "We're only worried about you. Your safety, your health—physical and emotional. The Anbu Black Ops requires you to navigate our shinobi world from the shadows. Those shadows can latch themselves onto you. They can become apart of you, steadily blocking out any light whatsoever."

Kurenai held her tighter. "I don't want you to lose your spark. Your light. Your passion and empathy and warmth. I don't want you to become a shadow imitation of yourself, like the Ōkuninushi."

"I won't," Amari swore. "I won't become a shadow imitation of myself. I won't because I have you, and Kakashi-sensei, and so many others who make my world bright.

"I know this path will require me to walk in shadows, but you, Kakashi-sensei, Uncle Shikaku and Aunt Yoshino, Shisui, you are like beacons to me. Beacons of love, support, guidance and strength that cast so much warm light into my world. It's because I have you that I can burn so brightly.

"These eyes of mine, this heart of mine, they can guide me through the darkness because all of you," even you, Ryu, "have given me the power to see.

"So no matter what, no matter where my path takes me, I won't lose my way. I won't become a cold shadow imitation of myself. I won't let Sasuke or Mimi become like that, either. I'll burn hot enough to keep the shadows at bay, I'll burn as bright as I can so even those lost in darkness can see. Just like I told Lady Mito."

All I need, she didn't vocalize her next thought, shutting her eyes and holding onto her mother, is for you to believe in me. To trust in me. I know nothing I say will change how the Anbu makes you both feel. I know you both wish my path was different. But as long as you believe in me…

"There are conditions," her mother said after a pregnant pause.

Amari nodded into her abdomen. "Okay. I didn't expect it to be easy. Before you tell me, though…"

There was something else she needed to say. Someone who she hoped her light could reach.

She released her mother and quietly stepped closer to Kakashi. He was still slouching forward, eye gazing solemnly at the tile floor.

"Kakashi-sensei, I want to apologize."

His eye finally lifted. He blinked, confused by her sudden declaration.

"Apologize? Amari, there's nothing you need to apologize for. My feelings on this are…complicated, to say the least." His feelings sounded and looked a lot more than complicated. "Like Kurenai, I have my reasons for that. This…"

"This isn't the path either of you want or envisioned for me. I know. It's not the path I wanted or envisioned, either. It's pretty scary how crazy everything has gotten, actually. The Masked Man, Foundation, Kasai, Lady Mito… And it's going to get worse, isn't it?"

"Probably," he admitted softly.

We're going to see a real war, she thought, twisting the hem of her shirt between her fingers. Not just an Invasion that lasted an afternoon, but a full-scale war that lasts… I don't know how long it will last. I don't know what is going to happen to this world because of it. Or what will happen to all of us.

Amari shook her head, shaking off the feeling of dread. "You're wrong about one thing, Sensei. I do owe you an apology. You've given me so much of your time and effort."

"Amari, you don't—"

She curled her fingers into the hem of her shirt again but she didn't look away from her mentor. The man who had been a father-figure to her.

"No, I do," she interrupted him. "I haven't always been the best student. The times I've done something reckless because I let my emotions control me are too many to count. I've asked you—begged you to trust me and send me into a war when I didn't have enough experience. I've pulled away and given you no choice but to watch as I fought an impossible battle."

Time and again she made emotional choices—good and bad—and in the process dragged Kakashi right along with her in one way or another. She never wanted to hurt him. She didn't want to hurt anyone she held precious, yet…

"You may not see it, but Kakashi gives you considerable freedom," she recalled Mr. Anbu's scolding. "I've read your mission reports. You've acted on reckless emotion on more than one occasion, and one instance in particular resulted in you nearly dying at Kakashi's own hand. Did you ever consider how that might effect him?"

Unconsciously, she brought her right hand to her left forearm, covering some of the scars scrawled across her flesh.

Everyday. Every time I see my scars, I remember that day. I remember it so vividly. And I remember my Shadow Clone's feelings of death. I remember her final memories of Kakashi-sensei, and the absolute horror and agony I saw on his face.

"I've been unfair to you," Amari said quietly. "My mistakes, my suffering, I've forced you to weather all of it with me. And in doing so I've caused you pain.

"I've been selfish," she said before he could speak. "I'm still being selfish despite my better intentions. In my search to carve a path forward, I've decided to go down a path you—my teacher—never wanted me to walk, because you know what can happen to me there. You know it better than I do, I can see that. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I keep doing this to you. I'm sorry I am so troublesome. But…"

"You made a mistake or two, sure, but what matters most is learning from them to better yourself as a shinobi and a person." Kakashi eye smiled at her. "That's all part of growing up, wouldn't you say?"

Lowering her eyes, a small smile formed on Amari's lips. Her hand tightened around her forearm.

"I also want to thank you. For always being there. For never turning your back on me. For giving me the strength to face these scars. You go far and beyond what is expected of you as our teacher."

"Do I? Sometimes I wonder if that's true," Kakashi said.

"Were it the way the old warmongers desired, teachers like you and mom would be cruel and cold," she disassembled his doubt. "You would turn us into tools and weapons that wield no hearts, no love, no joy."

They would've been no different from Zabuza and Haku when they first met. They would've all been tools. Tools and weapons steadily dulling, chipping, and breaking apart without any maintenance or means of repair.

That was the kind of world the warmongers saw for shinobi—soldiers that were no different than a kunai blade. Not people. Never people.

"You wouldn't sit with a student on a roof early in the morning as she stared at her trembling and scarred hand," she rambled on, unable to stop all of her thoughts and feelings from flowing out.

"You wouldn't have forced your weakened body to make it to my hospital room so you could tell me it was okay. To hold me as I sobbed for the Big Brother I loved. And lost. You wouldn't have run across half the Land of Fire with Mom to rescue your students when it wasn't even an official mission."

He was always there. He was always trying his best to support them. Always trying to be a better teacher than he had been the day, week and month before.

Always trying to see a better future for those he lost, just like she was.

"You have always supported me, even before I was your student," Amari said. "From the start you believed in the best parts of me, the parts I didn't know I had at times. It's why you're the shinobi and person I admire most. Besides Mom and Shisui, of course."

"Kakashi places the utmost faith and trust in you," Mr. Anbu's voice came to her. "He believes wholeheartedly in your abilities to lead your generation. As his student, it is your duty to prove him right."

Mr. Anbu was right about a lot. About her emotions. About the freedom Kakashi gave her. About her duty as his student.

That's why…

Amari met his eye again. "That's why I want you to know, no matter what, I won't let you down. I won't let your faith in me be misplaced. I'll be a better student. I won't make you regret anything, I promise."

For a beat there was nothing except silence. She couldn't tell what Kakashi was thinking even when looking him in the eye; the mask and headband, not to mention his years of experience as a shinobi, had always made reading his reactions difficult.

Finally his eye shut in a sincere eye smile. "I know," he said softly.

His words were so simple, as simple as they were that night in the hospital.

Yet, simple as they were, they said everything. They reinforced her spirit, set her free of the doubt; they offered the one thing she'd need from Kakashi and her mother.

Faith. The same faith that they'd had in her since fate had brought their paths together.

Kakashi opened his eye and sat up a little straighter.

"We won't make it easy on you," he stated firmly. "These conditions Shikaku, Kurenai and I have decided on will test all four of your Wills. It will require all of you to outgrow your current strength in a short time; as we've always told you, time is a luxury you don't have. That goes for all of you now."

"We weren't expecting it to be easy," she nodded. "We just wanted a chance to try."

Kakashi's gaze became serious. "Then let's go over the conditions…"

---

Later that morning, after a pleasant if not thoughtful breakfast, Amari left home in search of Sasuke and Mimi.

She found Sasuke first on a quiet pedestrian bridge, which crossed over a stream, as two men—shinobi—strolled on their way to the front gate for a morning patrol.

Sasuke was leaning on the railing, looking over at the stream, savoring the open air despite the chill; after their days held hostage in the hospital, she couldn't blame him.

After a "good morning" Amari asked Sasuke to join her in searching for Mimi, which he did without reluctance. They had nowhere else to be. Neither of them were fully cleared for duty yet and supervised training was later in the afternoon.

On a good hunch, they found Mimi and Aoko together as they were jogging one of the green trails within the walls; its location on the outskirts of the Village placed it away from the major traffic and populated streets and their vendors.

They settled down together by a bubbling stream, the Inuzuka of the trio kicking her sandals off to dip her warm feet and calves in the cold stream. Aoko leaned over the edge, balancing somewhat precariously, to lap at the clean water.

Amari sat beside Mimi and, at the medic-nin's behest, laid her legs over her sister's lap so she could check over her ankle.

Hovering over them was Sasuke. He stood relaxed, hand on his hip, listening as she detailed her morning conversation with Kakashi and Kurenai.

"Ninety days, huh?" Sasuke chewed on the news calmly when she finished.

"At least they aren't gonna make it easy on us," Mimi said, massaging away the aches in her ankle with Medical Ninjutsu. "I would've been concerned if they said "yeah, go ahead" without any fight. Would mean the Anbu wasn't what we were cracking it up to be."

"The Anbu agents are on a different level," her clan-brother refuted. "Not just that guy that's been watching us. That new woman, too."

Aoko, lying beside Mimi, made a soft murmuring sound.

"Yeah, I guess you're both right. Didn't see that kunoichi in action, but I still remember how that guy just appeared out of nowhere in your hospital room. He didn't even flinch at the sight of Gaara and Hikari's sand. He wasn't even threatened by it."

"Mr. Anbu is cool as a cucumber," Amari said.

"So, whenever you and I are cleared for duty," Sasuke began, "we have ninety days—three months—to get stronger. Even when we're away on missions the time will be ticking."

"Right," Amari confirmed, nodding. "Kakashi-sensei said the training he's planning will be the hardest training we've ever endured. He said it will be three months of hell."

He'd said it without blinking, with the voice of the seasoned shinobi rather than the aloof portrayal he cloaked his thoughts and feelings in.

When she had glanced to her mother to check the seriousness of his claim, she found the same there, too. It was a bit unnerving.

Both of them, plus Might Guy, were going to be training the Trinity over the course of the next three months. Masters of Ninjutsu, Taijutsu and Genjutsu, and likely the Crows and her Uncle at some point, would drill them straight into the hottest pits of hell.

It was just as much a test of their commitment and resolve to this path as it was to prepare them for what the Anbu entailed.

And missions weren't a reprieve. They didn't get to freeze their ninety day time limit because of duty to the Leaf. They had to keep finding ways to improve, keep adapting, keep growing stronger no matter what obstacles they faced.

"And when three months is over," Kakashi had said, his face and tenor serious, "we will test you three. If you fail to pass the test, then you will have to find some other path. There are no retries. No retests. No second chances. Think of this as a life or death situation. That's what you face as a shinobi on every mission, and that is even more true for the Anbu. If you can accept that, then I will tell you the second condition."

"I accept the condition."

It seemed harsh, but that was okay. The Anbu was harsh. If she couldn't handle their training or their test there was no way she would ever be ready to face the enemies ahead of them.

"Sounds exciting," Mimi grinned. "Three months to reach a new level and pass a test constructed by Kakashi-sensei, Kurenai-sensei, Guy-sensei and your uncle? Heh," the Inuzuka was practically thrumming, "we're gonna wish we were dead."

"Hm," Sasuke snorted. "It almost sounds like they're punishing us."

"'Testing our resolve' is the official statement, I'd say," Amari giggled. "Think of how much we all improved in a month before the Exams, though. Who knows where we'll be three months from now, especially with them drilling us into the dirt."

"Yeah."

They hadn't shirked their training in the month leading up to the Finals. Yet the stakes were different now. Bigger. Grander.

There was a weight they all felt, an inescapable gravity which made their old goals of challenging tough opponents or seeking revenge against the Sand shinobi, as Mimi had, seem small. Childish, even.

Back then, Amari thought as she wiggled the toes of her uninjured foot, losing was an option I gave myself. I wasn't in the Finals to win the whole thing. I didn't care to make it to the end. I just wanted to fight Mimi at full strength. Win or lose, I wanted to feel her strength against mine. Her fists, her power, and all that it entailed.

Things were different now. Everything they had thought their futures held before the Invasion had changed, irreversibly.

Orochimaru changed it. Kasai changed it. The Masked Man changed it. The Stone was set to change even more. And, of course, the Foundation leader was likely the root of it all, inheriting Tobirama's tenets of distrust and hatred.

The stakes were higher now. Their lives, their dreams, the future of the Leaf and the whole shinobi world were to be bet in a massive game of life or death.

This time losing isn't an option.

Overall, the first condition revolved around their physical ability to enter the Anbu.

Could they surpass their limits?

Could they pass the test at the end of the three months?

Once they passed it, it was over.

Conversely, the second condition was specifically designed for their mental and emotional states.

"Should you pass our test," Kurenai was the one to explain, "then you, Mimi and Sasuke will be allowed to enter the Anbu. However, the second condition is this: Should I or anyone else sense darkness beginning to consume any one of you, all four of you will be pulled out of the Anbu. Immediately. No arguments. No debates."

She wasn't surprised by that particular condition. All three of them possessed the potential to lose their way, they all possessed the potential to let the darkness in and let it consume them.

"The second condition is a bit tougher," she began after a moment of thought. "All of us in some way have lost our way once already."

"You worry too much," Mimi brushed it off. "As long as we look out for each other we'll be fine. Broody is less moody and I've got my charming disposition."

"Very charming," Sasuke drawled dryly.

"See," she gestured her head back to Sasuke, grinning. "Broody knows it. I mean, I haven't scored a Princess or a Hero-trainee—"

"Mimi," she whined, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Or found heaven face deep in another girl's chest— Hey, stop squirming!" she laughed.

"I'm going shove you face deep in the stream!" Amari hissed, face red.

"Didn't realize you liked it rough, my empress," Mimi didn't relent, grinning wildly as she held Amari's hands at the wrists, utilizing her superior strength to hold her at bay.

"I thought it was all cuddles and footsie and sweet touches. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Anko's a friend of Kurenai-sensei's, right? Maybe she's been teaching you in secret. After all, the first chest you ever dove face deep into—"

"I did not dive into anything!" she shrieked in embarrassment. "Don't make me sound like some sort of reprehensible deviant. I was pulled…there against my will!"

"Oh, don't be like that. You liked it."

"Let go so I can pummel you!"

"You really liked it!" Mimi cackled. "Was it better than kissing that Yukiko girl?"

"No!"

"Just asking. You're the envy of the shinobi world, Amari. I'm trying to get pointers. Not all of us can be as adorable as you are. You're just so small—"

"SMALL?! I'll show you small!" The muscles in her arms burned in strain—and, perhaps, rage—against the Inuzuka's grip.

"And sweet," Mimi continued on, unthreatened, "and adorable that people just naturally want to pull you in. Of course, because of your height that also means you get to intimately inspect their—"

Amari attached her Shadow, broke free, and then tackled her cackling sister.

"Prepare to be pummeled!"

"In your wildest dreams maybe!"

"It won't be a dream when I dunk you in the stream!"

"Hehehe! Go ahead and try!"

Sasuke watched the pair tumble and roll in the grass, amused.

Aoko chased circles around them while yipping and barking, throwing herself at times into a roll of her own when Mimi would end up on her back, rolling back and forth and then flipping back over onto her paws as though trying to show her companion how to do it.

Amari managed to get a rear choke on the Inuzuka for a moment or two before the tides turned again and their battle continued.

At another point Mimi ended up sitting on Amari's back, mocking a yawn as the smaller girl squirmed like she was trying to swim on dry land.

"Want to tag in, Broody?"

"Seems like you've got it handled."

"Traitor!" Amari declared.

"I want a wage," he said dryly, shrugging. "Being an advisor is tough."

"This is treason! Extortion! I will have my revenge!"

"Break free first then worry about revenge. Advisors orders."

Betrayed by her own clan-brother, Amari took matters into her own hands. She turned onto her side, hiding her handseals from his sight and launched her attack.

Sasuke wasn't ready for the Shadow to lunge across the grass. He was even less ready for it wrap around his foot and yank his feet out from under him.

His cry of surprise was utterly satisfying.

Disheveled and dazed, Sasuke sat up onto his forearms. The sight of him left Mimi cackling madly. And off guard, just as planned.

Sensing her chance, and seeing that they were right on the bank of the stream, Amari wrapped a second tendril around Mimi's upper body and tugged, harshly.

The splash of cold water drowned out her squawk of surprise. Droplets of cold water sprinkled over the Nara, but it was nothing like the bath the Inuzuka had just received.

Victorious, Amari rose to her feet and thrusted her fist into the air.

"Revenge!" she declared.

"Not quite," Sasuke said.

Then she felt a solid shove against her back, pushing her over the bank.

"Eeeeppp!"

At that moment, Mimi's head rose out of the water. Her sapphire eyes went wide as she saw the flailing body of her younger sister falling straight at her.

They collided and fell beneath the surface of the water again.

A shock surged through Amari's previously warm body. The stream was cold. No, it was downright freezing!

Floating beneath the surface, Mimi stared at her with a single cheek puffed out, looking wholly unamused despite the sparkle of enjoyment flashing in her eyes.

Amari had enough sense to look bashful as their wild and untamed manes of blue and dark-brown hair undulated gently behind them.

Before they could swim out of the icy prison, the water broke again and a third body joined theirs, drawing their attention to Sasuke. He'd fallen in back first, and on his chest was none other than Aoko, grinning at his shocked expression.

When he looked over at them, lips flattened in annoyance, Amari offered a wave and Mimi grinned.

It was this bond that would keep them safe. This bond that would keep the darkness at bay.

---

"You're all imbeciles."

Tsume Inuzuka stared at the bundled up team, lips split in a wild grin that made her features even wilder. The little imbeciles were still shivering despite finally being dried off and in warm, dry clothes.

"Thanks, Aunty Tsume," Mimi's attempt at sarcasm was felled by chattering teeth.

It made the woman snort at her niece's weak attempt. "When your teeth stop chattering then maybe try to bark your sarcasm."

"Sor- sorry for the trouble," Amaririsu apologized. "An- and thank you fo- for the blankets and clo- clothes."

"Hmph. You're welcome for the blankets. You can thank Mimi for the clothes, Squirt. Even if they do make you like a ten year old," she chuckled, sharp eyes shining with sadistic amusement.

Kurenai's kid, too cold to argue or shivering too much to twitch in annoyance, merely slouched in defeat.

What could she argue anyway?

Mimi wasn't a short or small child. She hadn't even finished growing yet and she was already the tallest of the kunoichis she hung around, and taller than some of the boys, too. On Amaririsu her clothes were at least three, if not four, sizes too big.

Until her clothes finished drying, the Squirt would have to sit tight beneath the heavy fur blanket—they didn't have shorts or pants that wouldn't slip off of her small waist. She definitely seemed like the type that walking around half naked might embarrass, what with being as shy as a virgin acolyte.

"As for you," Tsume's sharp and sadistic eyes fell on Sasuke. "You're lucky Kiba's around your size. Hana's clothes would've been the next choice. It's almost too bad." She shrugged. "Might've been fun to play dress up."

Mimi snorted. Sasuke, already pale, blanched at the thought. Amaririsu hid a smile by lowering her head into her blanket.

Tsume was enjoying their discomfort. Why wouldn't she?

These little imbeciles showed up on her doorstep soaking wet and shivering, practically prostrating themselves at her feet for towels, blankets and warm clothes.

Beside the kids now, in a bundle of heavy blankets, Aoko's black nose was peeking out; the poor idiot needed an entire cocoon to herself because these unmitigated morons, these imbeciles, thought it'd be a fun idea to jump in a freezing cold stream like a bunch of horny teenagers going skinny dipping in winter.

So why wouldn't she enjoy tormenting them a little? It beat the hell out of reading a newspaper.

"Anyway, stay beneath the blankets and wait until Hana checks you all over. I've got work to do," she said, turning on her heel to leave. "And try not to do anything else this stupid today!"

---

Everyday, rain, shine, snow or wind, Kakashi returned to the dark, kunai-shaped Memorial Stone etched with the names of those who had given their life in the service of the Leaf.

Upon it were names like Hayate Gekkō, who had been killed while investigating the Sound and Sand, and Iruka Umino's parents, falling in battle against the Nine-Tailed Fox.

Etched into it were names like Obito Uchiha, who had scarified his life in the last war.

He sacrificed his life in order to save Kakashi on their mission to destroy Kanabi Bridge.

Here, in silence, the Copy Ninja could reflect on his past mistakes. His regrets. His failings. But, like at Rin's grave, he would sometimes tell Obito about what was going on in his life and the world itself.

Today Kakashi wasn't entirely in a talkative mood. He stood before the grave, hands stuffed in his pockets, reflecting on how enemies like the Foundation and the Masked Man had twisted the two Uchiha's paths and put them on a direct line to the Anbu.

The one place he never wanted them to go.

Like Kurenai, he had his reasons for not liking the idea. Where Kurenai's stemmed from witnessing his downward spiral into hell from the outside, his came from experiencing it firsthand.

The Anbu exacerbated his darkness. It expanded it into an all-encompassing void that swallowed his fractured soul whole and left him in a world of cold monochrome.

He'd turned his grief into a blade. His regrets and his loathing sharpened it, coated it in lightning, which he then plunged into all those considered enemies of the Leaf.

Enemy shinobi came to fear the man known as Kakashi of the Sharingan, allies whispered his new nickname—the Friend Killer—behind his back, as though he would never hear it.

He never bothered to correct them. They weren't wrong, he supposed.

On their mission to destroy Kanabi Bridge, his actions—or lack thereof—gave the enemy Stone shinobi time to regroup and drop a cave onto his team. As a result, falling debris knocked Kakashi unconscious as they tried to escape.

Were it not for Obito throwing him out of the way, he would've been crushed.

Instead, Obito took his place. That day it should've been him who died, but because he had a comrade—a friend—who believed in protecting his comrades no matter what, he was here today. And Obito wasn't.

Afterwards, at the hands of the Mist, Rin was captured because of his inability to protect her. His inability to keep his final promise to Obito.

The events that day led Rin to feel as though there was no choice left but to take her own life as he used the Chidori, jumping in front of his attack to commit suicide with his hand.

In that way, he was a friend killer.

Objectively speaking, his trauma and the Anbu together brought about his cold-blooded killings of enemy shinobi. What was meant to keep him close to his teacher, recently turned Fourth Hokage, so he might overcome the tragedies only deepened the darkness.

Perhaps, had the Nine-Tails not escaped, that would've been the case.

In the days leading up to Kushina Uzumaki's pregnancy, who he was assigned to watch over for a more…cheerful mission, he supposed was the reason, he felt…he felt a little better.

It hadn't ended that way, though. His teacher and the new mother both died during the Nine-Tails attack, and his downward spiral continued faster, harsher, bringing him deeper and deeper into the darkness. Deeper and deeper.

Back then, he thought, I nearly aligned myself with the Foundation. I made mistakes. I struggled to claw my way out. Honestly, I didn't.

Between the assassination attempts by the Foundation on the Third Hokage, my encounters with Tenzō, which existed in a strange place between ally and enemy before we saved him from the Foundation, and the Uchiha Massacre, I struggled to find a path forward.

Itachi's "betrayal" didn't help. And when I saw Haya Uchiha's body and Yūgao's grief, it gave me more reason to isolate myself.

If I wasn't discharged by the Third Hokage and reassigned to be a Jōnin Sensei, I never would've left. I would've kept going until I died. It was the end I saw for myself. If it weren't for Guy, Kurenai and Asuma, I would've found that end.

Even then, though, being discharged from the Anbu didn't cure his darkness. It didn't heal his trauma.

It was only when they found Amari—because of Amari that his monochrome world began to change. Team Seven was what brought the colors all back. Colors ranging from bright and loud orange to soft and gentle purple.

They weren't meant to follow his path into the Anbu. As their teacher he'd wanted—hoped—to stop Sasuke and Amari from making the same mistakes he had, in doing so protecting them from the path of darkness and bloodshed he'd experienced and all the loss it had brought about.

Anbu alone wasn't responsible, he knew. It only accelerated the spread of the darkness.

He was afraid of how it might taint Amari and Sasuke, and now Mimi as well. They all possessed trauma, they each harbored flickers of darkness like the black flames of the Amaterasu.

Would entering the Anbu add kindling to those flames?

Would they, too, become as cold as he had, entering a world of monochrome?

Would Amari or Sasuke or Mimi find themselves here, like him, standing over a silent grave of comrades they couldn't save?

"I want you to know, no matter what, I won't let you down."

I know you won't, Amari. You never have. Kakashi shut his eye. You're already a better student than I ever was. I was arrogant and cold, I pushed Rin and Obito and even Minato-sensei to arms reach because I was trying to be the opposite of my father.

I thought following the rules to the letter would make me a better shinobi and man than he was. I thought of him as a failure for abandoning his mission to save his comrades lives. It was Obito who changed my view.

"I believe the White Fang was a hero!"

Such simple words. Yet those simple words brought about a paradigm shift in his way of thinking.

You're not the same as I was when I entered the Anbu, he thought. Despite all the trauma and suffering you've endured, you've still got that light Kurenai mentioned. A spark. A flame that projects so much light that you've pulled Sasuke and Mimi out of the darkness completely.

Your heart reached Haku, and though he would never admit it, it reached Zabuza, too. It illuminated Hikari's entire world, it inspires your peers to follow you and Mimi on your paths to become guardians. All of the next generation, whether our team, Kurenai's, Asuma's or Guy's, your heart and spirit have inspired them.

You exude light and you control the shadows. You are the daughter of the Burning Light of the Leaf and the Mistress of Shadows.

"I won't make you regret anything, I promise."

Kakashi smiled to himself.

I know. Even though these next few months will be hell for you four, I know you'll be all right.

Because I believe in you.

A light breeze rolled over the Memorial Stone, brushing against his body as it passed by.

"You don't have to hover behind me," he said, opening his eye to the memorial stone. "Unless you're planning to ambush me for omitting the truth."

Soft footsteps approached. When Yūgao stood beside him, she didn't meet his eyes, instead staring at the Memorial Stone and, doubtlessly, Hayate's name.

His former subordinate attired herself in colors fitting for a funeral, wearing a black wool pull-over sweater and black pants; it reflected her gloom well, he thought.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," she said softly.

"You didn't," he reassured in the same tone. "Are you here for Hayate today?"

"No. I wanted to speak with you, I just…didn't know when or how to approach you."

"So that's why you've been shadowing me."

"Yes." She paused. "Are you here for Obito?"

"Always."

There was a pregnant silence that passed between the former Captain and subordinate, within it a sense of silent understanding they had shared since that night in Haya Uchiha's moonlit bedroom.

There was no need for words. Not for their grief, which was a persistent ache in their chests as they stared at the names of Obito Uchiha and Hayate Gekkō. Not for the unspoken regrets they possessed for things they wished they had said, actions they wished they had taken, promises they failed to keep, or moments they had taken for granted.

No words were necessary to explain why she approached him. Kakashi knew.

"I had finally begun to live again," she began suddenly. "Hayate made that possible for me. He reminded me of how…joyful life could be. How it felt to live, to feel, to love. I'd forgotten it all after Lady Miyako and Haya…"

Yūgao's voice wavered. She shut her eyes and took a breath. Kakashi said nothing.

He understood.

"When Hayate was killed by the Sand and Sound," she started again, "I sought vengeance and justice. Yet nothing I did, no matter how many invading shinobi I killed, brought it any closer. What grief and rage I felt slipped away. Lately, all I've felt is the absence of feeling, if that makes sense."

"It does."

"The trees and flowers are sapped of color, the streams dry, the sun bears no warmth, the moon does not glow and the stars do not twinkle. Even people—friends—are nuisances. White-noise I want to shut out. I've begun to wonder if all this bloodshed has any point. If it will ever end. If my sword can be a symbol for something other than death."

Kakashi hummed. It all sounded too familiar.

"A sword is simply a tool," he said. "In that way, it's no different than a hammer. A hammer can be used to kill or brutalize a victim, they can even be used to destroy. But a hammer can also build a home. To build a business or even a whole Village. Even jutsus are simply tools."

He turned his head slightly to look at Yūgao. "How those tools are used, what they accomplish, what they symbolize, is up to each of us to decide."

"I'm not sure I believe that," she said, looking away to the Memorial Stone.

"That's okay." His gaze returned to the Memorial Stone. "I didn't believe it either back then."

He had struggled to use the Chidori for a long time after Rin's death. Just the mere activation of it would make her face appear in his mind.

He would see the blood dripping from her mouth, down her chin, feel the blood soaking his hand and arm, which was buried deep in her chest. He would hear her trembling, wet voice struggling to form the syllables of his name one at a time, as if sounding them out for the first time.

Many mornings he spent washing his hands raw. Many times his hand had trembled against his control.

For a long time the Chidori was a symbol of death to him, too. The symbol of his ultimate failure. A blade which cut down a friend he swore to protect.

It took him time to reshape it. To melt it down and reforge the sword into what it should have been. It was that version he entrusted to Sasuke; it was to be his sword to protect his comrades, a blade in his hands that would do what he had failed.

"What changed, Kakashi?" Yūgao asked softly. "In the Anbu, even though you were kind and supportive to comrades, I could feel the cold within you. I could see the darkness in your eyes. Yet I sense no coldness. I see no darkness. What changed?"

"Hm. Well, before I answer that, I have a question for you. It's an important one."

Yūgao turned to look at him again, dark eyes curious. She nodded. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

Kakashi let the silence linger for a moment or two. He then looked his former subordinate in the eyes.

"When you think of Haya, does your sword still seem like a symbol of death?"

Her eyes went wide. Then the lids shut halfway as her gaze lowered to the grass between them, eyes glistening.

"When we found Amaririsu," he began, looking away out of courtesy, pretending he couldn't see her tears just as he had that night, "I didn't actually know who she was. She was nothing like the child I saw that night. Her scent was different. She was severely malnourished, frail and thin, gaunt and broken. I had no reason to suspect they were the same child, at first. Not when you had confirmed her death."

The Sharingan and Shadow Possession Jutsu changed that. He searched, of course, to confirm his suspicions of her real identity, but the Third Hokage and Shikaku Nara went to great lengths to ensure no one could ever tie Amari to Haya.

Deep down, before he had the confirmation from Amari herself in the Land of Waves, he knew. For who else could it be?

How many other children were tied to both the Uchiha and the Nara Clans?

"The amnesia she suffered, brought about by a genjutsu, made everything more complicated," he continued patiently. "All it took was Sasuke muttering Itachi's name to trigger it. At that time, we had no way of knowing what its true purpose was. We didn't know what Itachi's plans were for her."

They hadn't known the truth. They hadn't known what Itachi was doing, or that Aimi was even alive at that point.

"Shikaku has been very careful with who he involves Amari with, especially those who have previous ties to her or her family. Like Genma. Like me and Tenzō. And now you. So far—"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Kakashi." He barely heard her voice, the slight tremble weakened it and made her hard to hear. "Shikaku explained everything to me. I understand why I wasn't told. I was angry and hurt—I still am. At Lady Miyako for not telling us the truth. At myself for not seeing through his lies. I am hurting because Haya has had everything taken from her. And I wasn't there. I was supposed to be, but I couldn't— I didn't—"

The words faltered in her throat. Yūgao covered her eyes. Slowly, she sank into a crouch, shoulders beginning to shake.

Kakashi knelt beside her and rested a supportive hand on her shoulder. He knew it was as useful as wet tissue paper, for it couldn't change what she had lost or cure the feelings of guilt and regret she harbored; it couldn't stop the hot tears streaming down her face or repair the broken heart aching in her chest.

Still, sometimes even the smallest gesture of support to let someone know they weren't alone was enough. He had to hope it rang true here.

"I'm sorry," she whispered through tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," he said softly. "I understand. But you need to understand that none of this is your fault. Amari will never blame you for anything." He smiled slightly behind his mask. "It'd just be too troublesome."

There was a wet snort followed by a heartbroken groan.

"You asked me what changed," he began. "It started with Amari. In her I saw…" Kakashi trailed off, eye drifting to the sky.

Yūgao looked at him, cheeks wet with tears. "Wh- what? What did you see Kakashi?"

"Hope, I think." The simple answer caused the kunoichi to choke on a breath.

The late morning sky was crystal clear today, he noticed, and though no rain had fallen last night, it was as if a storm had swept through and cleaned the atmosphere of all the sorrow and pain it gathered in the grey gloom of its clouds.

"There's something about Amari," he tried to find the right words. "Kurenai calls it her spark. Her light. I think she's right. I think Amari, for all intents and purposes, is light. A bright one, at that."

He paused again. In his silence, Yūgao recalled the words of her Master, how she called Haya light and hope, how she had seen it—felt it as only a Sensory Type could. And how Kakashi described Haya the same way without even knowing it.

"For a long time I felt the same way you do," he said after gathering his thoughts. "My gaze was stuck on the ground, on the road ahead of me, and the destination I knew awaited at its end. After we found Amari… Yeah, even back then. It was the first light I had seen in a long time."

It was only a frail ember then. But in a life of grey the tiniest of flames could appear like the sun.

"The promise you made to Lady Miyako…" Kakashi lowered his gaze to his crying comrade, who was clearly surprised he remembered. "Is it still meaningless?"

"No," she shook her head, eyes shutting as tears dripped off her chin and streamed down her neck. "No, it's not meaningless. It never was."

Kakashi eye smiled and rubbed her shoulder. "Good."

He knelt beside her until she was finally composed. When they were standing again, and after Yūgao wiped her eyes dry on her sweater, she said, "I'm sorry. It's all still so overwhelming."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I understand."

"I'm still processing everything I was told," she admitted. "There wasn't time to ask last night, but… How has she been all these years, Kakashi?"

"I could tell you, but wouldn't you rather ask her?"

"I would." Yūgao lowered her chin. "When Hayate was killed I thought I had lost everything all over again. I haven't felt alive since he was taken from me. But then…" She forced an uneven, quivering smile onto her face. Her voice matched it. "She came bounding into my life, just like Lady Miyako said she would. What I want most is to hold her in my arms."

"Why don't you, then?" Kakashi said, turning his whole body to face her. "Amari is a fan of hugs," he added lightly.

"I'm afraid, Kakashi," the words were forced out in a rough whisper, as if she hated them as much as the Foundation. "I'm afraid she will hate me because I couldn't save Lady Miyako. I'm afraid she will hate me because she was suffering when I…" She turned her head away and took a breath. "Worse than all of that, though, I'm afraid she will look at me and feel nothing at all," she whispered.

"You have nothing to be afraid of," he reassured. "Amari will never hate you. Trust me. Were she here now, she'd hug you and refuse to let go. At least until you were ready, anyway."

The slightest of smiles crossed the kunoichi's face, then fell.

"I…need more time. To prepare," Yūgao said. "I can't slip up and trigger the genjutsu. I don't want… I don't want to cause her pain."

"Of course. I expect you want to train her, too."

"I do."

"Well, it seems the stars are aligning then."

"What do you mean?"

Kakashi eye smiled. "You'll see."

---

"We're being watched."

Chōjūrō hummed lowly, nervously, acknowledging the truth of Haruhi's statement. He noticed it, too. It was impossible not to. The black shadow of a bird wheeled across the dirt road and the hills of grass on either side of them, it had been gliding the same Ouroboros pattern since they left the port.

"It's the Crows of the Leaf," he murmured, rubbing his nail plates together. "Lady Mei did say we might encounter them. I think they want us to know they're monitoring us. They wouldn't be so obvious otherwise."

"Yes. It is a warning," Haruhi dissected. "Lady Mei impressed the Head of the Crows. However, though there is a line of communication between our Nations, we are not yet allies. At present we are foreigners—shinobi of an opposing Nation invading their Land. Our intentions are unknown."

His teammate raised her orange eyes to the sky, watching the black bird glide effortlessly out of striking range.

"Each of us are hopeful our Village's can achieve peace. But they are cautious, as is their right," she said. "We—Mist shinobi, I mean—do not welcome strangers. We are innately suspicious of foreigners. In truth, we are innately suspicious of all people, including each other. Perhaps especially of each other.

"Blood Mist and the Dark Times eroded the trust between shinobi and the people we were meant to protect. The Kekkei Genkai Purges destroyed families. Brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, they turned against one another out of fear, for money, for food, for narcotics, or out of simple cruelty."

"There wasn't enough food to go around!" Chōjūrō recalled the desperate declaration of a Shinjuku townsmen. He felt himself frown as he gently rubbed his nail plates together.

He'd been lucky, so lucky, to have Villagers—strangers—take pity on him when he was a boy. Compared to Haku and Natsumi, or Fuugetsu and Mika, or any of the prisoners of the Crimson Flowers, his childhood was blessed.

"Ya talk about changin' this Land together with its people. But at the end of the day, the people are as sick and twisted as the rest of us. That's what makes this Land great!" The Hound's wild declaration came to mind.

He could still see his ugly grin, the gold tooth shining behind his split lip, as he threw his hands out in a grand gesture.

"There ain't no need to pretend we're saints. This is a Land where ya can do what you want, satisfy yerself how ya want and kill whoever gets in yer way as long as ya got the power. The strong thrive, the weak die. That's the way of nature, my boy. Ain't need no other reason to do what we do. Ain't need no higher cause to follow. Ain't no need to follow a Mizukage or die for one. Just listen to yer primal instincts."

The people were sick and twisted because of the environment they lived in, he wanted to argue. Blood Mist, the Dark Times, the Kekkei Genkai Purges, they'd all infected their Nation and its people. People like him rose out of it, freakishly strong, but cruel and monstrous.

It was easy to talk about how "great" such a horrible vision was when you were seated on top of a mound of corpses, while killing "the weak" and satisfying yourself at their expense, he wanted to yell.

He didn't. The Hound was dead, and they wouldn't let his beliefs change their mission.

"We'll change," he said softly but confidently. "We're going to help Lady Mei rebuild our Nation."

"Yes, we will," Haruhi agreed, nodding sharply. "However, we—the people of the Land of Water—sold orphans, homeless and neighbors to organizations like the Crimson Flowers. A Nation where the strong kicked down on the weak, where base impulse and selfishness were what guided us, where siblings were set against each other in the Blood Mist Exam and innocent people like Chinami and Mika had their dignity stolen by a hot brand.

"The Crows know both our history and Lady Mei's vision. So they reveal themselves to us. They let us know they are watching—protecting us, even. For we are foreigners, and the line of communication between our Nations is not widely known beyond the inner circles immediately involved in them, and so should a Leaf shinobi cross our paths they may see us as invaders. Interlopers and infiltrators who seek to harm their already damaged home."

"I've been worrying about that since we reached the port," he admitted. "I guess it's good the Crows are watching over us, then."

"We will need to stay vigilant," Haruhi replied, looking ahead. "Avoiding conflict altogether is imperative to our current mission, and for the discussions between Lady Mei and the Leaf Village. Should we act in such a way they deem inappropriate, I suspect they will not hesitate to slay us where we stand, and should the legends be true, we will wish to have died battling the Hound."

Chōjūrō swallowed roughly. "I sort of wish I could talk to them. A- at least to let them know we aren't here to cause trouble."

"Words would be meaningless."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Words can be another tool of manipulation and deceit, as it was used by Sadao and the Crimson Flowers to infect our Land with their narcotic," Haruhi explained, orange eyes narrowing dangerously at the thought of Sadao and the narcotic. "It is our actions that define our intentions. Just as Lady Mei's actions prove she seeks to change our Nation, our actions, or lack thereof, will prove to the Crows we do not seek conflict."

"I hope you're right," he sighed nervously.

They pressed on in their journey West across the Land of Fire.

The Crow followed.

---

Rain and wind pelted the Katabami Gold Mine and it's surrounding mountains, blanketing the sky with an impenetrable cloak of grey, churning the rivers and howling ghoulishly.

It was a cold rain. Cold and harsh. It lashed with the wind to leave flesh stinging. Yet three miners bore its harsh whip as they climbed the path out of the valley where the gold mine was located, where their fellow miners continued to work, and where a funeral march for their friend—Kanpachi—was now taking place, headed by sixteen men wearing heavy black cloaks, the hoods pulled over their heads.

The miners climbed, tears mixing into the rain that streamed off their faces, and hurried up the path while they had their chance, chased by the mourning toll of a gong.

They climbed knowing that Kanpachi, alive in his coffin, would be dead before they could return with help. They climbed knowing that he would be buried among the dozens of coworkers who had plotted insurrections, among the previous employers who they had all been happy to be freed from, and the friends who simply angered the new management.

Kanpachi would die beneath the wet and cold mud, marked by a piece of rebar, a steel beam, lumber or something similar, but he would not die immediately. He would be alone in the darkness. He would be screaming and sobbing the same way he was when they heard his muffled screams and sobs before fleeing, thrashing desperately to break the lid off his pristine white coffin, to live instead of die helplessly.

The funeral gong tolled again as they reached an overlook over the Katabami Gold Mine.

It was impossible to see through the curtains of rain whether or not they had put Kanpachi in the earth yet. It was impossible to tell if their new leader was weeping as he always did for the new funerals he commissioned.

They knew, though, he would be. They had seen it dozens of times, and each day they all feared it would be them who was buried alive next, and so there was no choice but to flee in search of help.

The Leaf Village was their last hope.

---

The recent reports from her agents intrigued Atsuko.

From the southeastern sea border of the Land of Fire, two Mist shinobi entered their Nation and began a thus far uneventful trek west across the Land, neither stopping in towns or outposts for rest or supplies; they had come well-prepared for a long trek, one which did not appear to involve the Leaf Village as its destination.

The descriptions of the pair matched that of the young Swordsmen Chōjūrō and a young kunoichi she encountered on one occasion whilst speaking to the Fifth Mizukage—Haruhi was her name.

From the southwestern border, from the Land of Rivers—a smaller Nation landlocked between the Land of Fire, the Land of Wind and the Hidden Rain Village on its eastern, western and northern borders, respectively—three nondescript foreigners traveled perilous paths through the mountains towards the Leaf Village.

Two of the Mizukage's trusted shinobi—a Swordsmen, no less—and three foreigners enter the Land of Fire, she considered the situation with interest. One group seeks to cross into the Land of Rivers, the other seeks to escape it. All because of one man.

From the earth a humans perspective was limited to their immediate surroundings; they could not see how their paths, though so far apart, intersected.

A bird's eye view was necessary to see how all the world was connected, its roads, its rivers, its mountains and its oceans.

There is an opportunity here, she considered. I did not anticipate this could happen so soon, yet it seems the Leaf and Mist will find their paths intersecting as well.

In the right hands, this could be a step forward in the relations between our Nations. In the wrong, it will be an utter disaster that will push peace farther from our grasps.

For now she would order her agents to maintain distance and monitor both groups. The Mist shinobi would need an ally to temper impatience and misunderstandings should they encounter a team of Leaf shinobi, the desperate Land of River Foreigners would potentially need aid to cross the tumultuous terrain ahead.

Or someone to save them, should they decide to cross Kenashi Pass.

---

The storm struck Kenashi Pass suddenly. It built at the top of the steep peak, then slapped the three Land of River natives as they were shimmying along the most dangerous part of the entire pass—a narrow stretch less than two feet wide, boxed in by a mountainous peak on one side and a steep cliff on the other, at the bottom of which a seething stream waited.

Thunder roared down mountain. Rain whipped the three men, who hugged the cliff wall as they shimmied one careful step at a time further down the path.

Grimaces and frightened expressions contorted their faces as wind ripped past them, as though commanded by the gods to knock them from this pass so the Katabami Gold Mine and its miners would continue to live in fear their funeral would come early.

The smallest of the three men, Rokusuke, couldn't hear himself whimpering, but he could feel it. He could feel it in every tremor of his vocal cords.

They were all ill-prepared for this journey. Without rain cloaks or supplies, they traveled with only the clothes on their backs, which now clung wetly to their bodies.

At the current elevation the temperature made the rain colder. In fact, he felt sleet slap through his wet yukata, felt it pelt against his head as his legs and body trembled and shivered.

Despite that, the thought of Kanpachi and the foolish hope they could still save him kept him moving.

He shifted his right foot to his right first, then scooted his left in, repeating the movements over and over again as Hachidai—who was ahead of him—and Sangorō—who was behind him—did the same.

The strike of lightning made him whine and stiffen. They all did. The sharp gale kept them pinned against the wall for what could've been anything from a few seconds to a few minutes; he couldn't tell the difference anymore. Too cold. Too frightened. Too hurt by the pelting sleet.

Eventually they began to move again. He didn't know how far they made it before another bolt of lightning flashed and roared as it struck the mountain.

All three men found their frightened gazes locked on the falling boulders racing straight at them.

Rokusuke heard his scream then. He heard it as he and his friends jumped or fell off the steep cliff, then he only heard the howls of the wind, the pelting of the downpour and another deafening roar explode and cascade across the mountain pass.

As he fell towards the stream, heart caught in his throat, and as the sky flashed with blinding light, he saw a black silhouette of a large bird diving after them.

Again he let out a horrible scream at the sight of what was surely death coming for them all.

And then he struck the surface of the water and all went black.

---

"Who are these guys anyway?"

Rokusuke heard a voice, but it sounded like it was submerged beneath water.

"They hail from the Land of Rivers. I had my agents monitoring their movements since they entered the Land of Fire. I was hopeful they wouldn't be so foolish to cross Kenashi Pass, but, as you now know, I made preparations in case they did."

His body was heavy. Cold. Numb. He couldn't move. He couldn't…

"Must've been desperate. Everyone knows Kenashi Pass is dangerous on a normal day, but this time of year storms sprout up out of nowhere."

"Very true. However, desperation will impair even the wisest of minds."

Was he dying? He didn't want to die.

"How is your agent?"

"Well. He dispatched the boulders that would've crushed them first and then immediately hailed me, as I asked. Thus we are here."

"Out of curiosity, why did you want me to help? Something deemed this important to the Crows seems more like a mission for a Jōnin. I'm not even cleared for duty yet."

"Perhaps I wanted us to spread our wings together."

"Uh-huh. And I'm the heir of the Hyūga Clan."

"Mmhmhm. Careful, Young Haya. With the proper marriages you could be."

"I- I was joking!"

"There are many arranged marriages we could consider to bolster the influence of the Uchiha Clan."

"Not funny!"

"Mm, what of royalty? Princess Koyuki could be quite the treat. Or you could be hers."

"At- Atsuko! You can't insinuate things li- like that!"

"Although Hinata and Neji are not heirs presently, with the right incentives Hiashi Hyūga could change that if he believed the political power gained from a union of Uchiha and Hyūga was worthwhile. Or, perhaps, you could wait until Hanabi comes of age—humans seem to enjoy marriages when one child is underage."

"Oh my god! Stoooooppppp! I'm not going to have an arranged marriage to Hanabi!"

"But Neji and Hinata are possibilities, then? I will make note of that."

"What? No! That's not what I meant."

"Then there is Naruto. He could technically be named the Head of the Uzumaki Clan. A marriage would be quite the fairytale ending to the Uchiha and Senju conflict."

"Atsukoooo! Why are you saying these things?"

"What if I suggested it was Lady Tsunade instead? She is the granddaughter of your great-great grandfather's rival. Is that more storybook for an arranged marriage among human society?"

"I am not marrying the Hokage!"

Death was not what Rokusuke was expecting. It was loud and embarrassed and it felt like he was jumping repeatedly.

"As you wish. Well, would you prefer your union to unite two Nations? Mist or Sand? Which would you prefer?"

"Ughhhhh. Why are all the birds in my life so troublesome?"

"Ah, but it is too interesting not to entertain the thought! We could also create a union of Jutsus and Quirks, should you find the door to the Hero World once more."

"You're avoiding my initial question."

"In part, yes. I also adore teasing you."

"Are they really that important?"

"As individuals? No. They are normal civilians. No one of great importance as, let's say, a Feudal Lord or their children. However, their reason for crossing into our Nation to reach the Leaf Village has the potential to advance one of our goals."

"Vague, but I won't pry."

"You will see, Young Haya. I know you will appreciate it."

"Okay."

Rokusuke slowly opened his eyes but found he could not see clearly.

Am I…still alive?

Did that mean they could still save Kanpachi? He tried to shift but his whole body stiffened with a piercing ache. He groaned and shut his eyes.

"Hey, easy," the stranger's voice—a girl's voice—commanded gently. "Just stay still as best you can. I'm getting you somewhere that can help."

"Where…are we?" The words were difficult to form, they slurred together into a slush similar to melting snow.

"On our way to the Leaf Village. We'll be there very soon."

"Who are you?"

"A Leaf Village kunoichi. I'm here to help."

"Help… We need…help. Kanpachi…"

"Easy. I pulled your friends out of the stream. Just hang in there a little longer."

Kanpachi wasn't in the stream. He was buried beneath cold wet mud, he wanted to tell her. To urge her to run to his rescue and save him, too.

Rokusuke wasn't able to. He lost consciousness again.

---

Amari shifted awkwardly on her feet beneath the irritated gaze of the Fifth Hokage.

She planned to sneak back into the Village under the radar, drop the three men Atsuko asked her to help with at the hospital and continue on with her day.

By her faithful companion's tightlipped responses, she doubted whatever came of the three men would involve her. It seemed too important. And she wasn't cleared for duty yet.

In the end, she didn't even get through the gate unnoticed.

The Fifth Hokage was there waiting for her, arms crossed and irritated expression on the verge of causing several veins to rupture in her forehead.

"Uh, Lady Hokage…" She glanced at the unconscious man on her shoulder and the shoulders of her Shadow Clones. Yeah, this didn't look any better than she imagined it would. "I can explain?" she offered lamely.

"Oh really?" The Hokage was very interested in her explanation. "By all means, explain why you, a shinobi off the active duty list, disappeared without a word or a mission. I know you're not stupid enough to go rogue. But apparently you're stupid and stubborn enough to think rules don't apply to you."

Ouch, she winced.

"Your guard reported you were missing without a trace, and the only evidence you left behind was some hastily written note claiming you'd be right back."

The Hokage jabbed her finger at the kunoichi. "And who the hell are those three strays you decided to bring home with you! You know the situation we're in. You know what the Stone is up to! Explain yourself before I decide to put you on house arrest for the next year. Where did you go and who are these people!"

"I don't actually know who they are, to be honest," she answered awkwardly, wincing. She didn't know why she was conscripted by Atsuko to rescue them either, but admitting that might have caused the veins to actually burst, thus incapacitating the Hokage, which would just be troublesome.

"You've gotta be kidding!"

"Atsuko, a little help?" she pleaded, looking to the Crow perched on the back of the man she was carrying. "I don't want to be on house arrest. I'll let you tease me about Princess Koyuki or anything else."

By the gleam in her dark eyes, and her prolonged silence, Atsuko was clearly enjoying herself at the Uchiha's expense.

"It's adorable you think that is a bargaining chip," her faithful companion hummed, amused. "I will tease you regardless."

"Great," she groaned.

"However, Lady Hokage, if anyone is to blame for Young Amari's disappearance and these three strays, it is me. I will gladly explain all the details. First, I must implore that these three natives of the Land of Rivers, who have come to acquire the Leaf's services involving the liberation of the Katabami Gold Mine, are given urgent medical care."

Liberation of the Katabami Gold Mine? Amari furrowed her brow. That sounds really important. And profitable.

Grateful clients might part with a gold bar or two. Or, more likely, be willing to part with a considerable sum of money for liberating the gold mine.

The thought seemed to strike the Hokage as well, irritation cooling visibly. Amari wondered if it would be too soon to comment on high blood pressure in the elderly.

"The Katabami Gold Mine?" Tsunade repeated. She squinted at the three men, somewhere between dripping wet and damp, scrutinizing their appearances and the clarification of their origin. "I expect a report as soon as we reach the hospital, Atsuko."

"Of course."

"All right. Bring them in, Amaririsu. Hurry up. I don't have all day."

"Yes ma'am."

Well, Amari thought, hurrying along with the three men, at least I won't be on house arrest.

---

Within the Leaf Village there is a training facility dedicated strictly to medic-nins. Its walls house a vast library of medical texts ranging from anatomical diagrams of the human body, its organs and its systems, to historical accounts of groundbreaking procedures, the documentation of diseases, offensive capabilities and the healing properties presently known of Medical Ninjutsu and the creation of the Medical Corps, to guides of poisons and toxins, the poisons thus far discovered, antidotes, and far, far more.

Rows upon rows of texts occupied the facility. There was enough knowledge here that, were humans to suddenly forget everything they'd learned of Medical Ninjutsu, surgeries and diseases, they could relearn it all here.

The facility, while small when compared to training fields or the hospital, had grown significantly since Shizune last seen it. When she was a young girl the facility felt like stepping into a shoebox.

There were a handful of bookshelves, maybe, and a lab table. She couldn't remember anything else.

It's hard to believe the Medical Corps used to be so poorly funded, she thought as she attentively read over the most recent report from Mizuki's prison break. Now they have the funding to expand the facility. And to add a sofa.

Seated on the three-seat sofa, Shizune crossed her left leg over her right, idly rotating her left ankle and flexing her toes as she worked her way through the files Lady Tsunade had received since Amaririsu's presence was sensed closing in on the front gate.

Our preliminary investigation, she read, has thus far failed to find evidence—substantial or abstract—of cooperation between Mizuki and the Foundation. We can confirm he encountered Orochimaru after murdering Genda, during which Orochimaru himself placed the Curse Mark upon Mizuki and provided him the coordinates of the Nara Clan Research Facility and the secret hideout where, inevitably, he resurrected Mito Uzumaki.

At this moment, it seems Mizuki merely exploited the Maximum Security Prison's weakness—specifically the lackadaisical attitudes of the guards stationed there, their faulty equipment and the outdated and ill-maintained cell doors.

Considering the present circumstances, and the potential for prisoners of war, I recommend we do not allow the prison to deteriorate further. Otherwise we may as well give up on gathering potentially life-saving information and mandate the executions of all captured shinobi. After all, we'll only be executed as war criminals if we lose. It isn't as if a thorough investigation would not have stopped this incident outright.

Ibiki's menacing sarcasm dripped from his strict penmanship. She couldn't fault him for it; Leaf shinobi had lost their lives in the incident, and the threat of the Stone hearing any manner of news about the escape had yet to pass. At least not for Shizune, who was aware of how precariously they stood on the edge of war.

Furthermore, Tsubaki's willing cooperation with the Torture and Interrogation Unit has allowed us to confirm she had no part in Mizuki's alliance with Orochimaru, other than feigning ignorance in the days before and after his arrest.

I recommend putting her to work. We need all the medic-ninjas we can get. Let her spend these coming days atoning by preserving the lives of others, which she failed to do by maintaining her silence.

A personal note: The Foundation will not be easy to catch. I expect if they did play a role in this they covered their tracks impeccably. But even the most seasoned shinobi makes mistakes. I will be watching and searching. And when they do make the smallest of mistakes, I'll be ready.

Burn this report.

After writing the key details in shorthand on her notepad—confirmation of Orochimaru's involvement, Mizuki's exploitation and Ibiki's recommendations—she committed the rest to memory, leaned forward and placed the edge of the paper over the flame of a nearby candle until it began to burn.

Ibiki would have thorough notes on Mizuki's and Tsubaki's interrogations. Nothing which would include mentions of the Foundation.

They can't know we suspect them, Shizune thought as she watched the report burn. They've gone so far to cover their trails. We can't afford to do anything less.

"Shizune."

The sudden voice of a woman did not startle the Hokage's assistant. She recognized the Anbu agent's presence and voice, she did not need to turn around to see it was a kunoichi wearing a Bear-motif mask.

"Lady Hokage has summoned you to the hospital."

"I'll leave immediately. Thank you," Shizune replied.

The Anbu agent disappeared.

Rising, Shizune quickly took in the rest of her surroundings.

A circular pool was newly constructed in the facility, which a short stone path divided halfway to a platform at its center, where a rectangular table like an altar rested. Beside the table was a pile of thick scrolls.

Standing before it, a scroll unrolled across the table with a fish lying at its center, was Hinata Hyūga. Her small and delicate hands were hued in green, sweat beading on her brow, determined to resuscitate the fish.

Nearby, Mimi Inuzuka sat reading a book on toxins and poisons. Aoko also appeared to be reading from the top of her companion's head.

Being their teacher was…strange. She'd spent her whole life so far learning from Lady Tsunade, tending to her, and stressing over the gambling debts she incurred as they traveled.

Initially, when she learned she would be teaching Mimi and Hinata, the whole thought of it left her a bit stressed. She didn't exactly have free time to herself. There was always work to be done, files to report, duty rosters to go over, requisition orders to confirm or deny, politics to balance and fires to put out.

As the assistant to the Hokage, she had her hands full helping Lady Tsunade in her efforts to rebuild the Leaf and prepare them for war. That Tsunade herself was taking on two students—inexperienced students, at that—alone was impressive of someone she had known to shirk responsibilities for as long as she'd known her.

She has less personal time than I do. Though not by much.

Still, her initial stress so far seemed unwarranted. Mimi Inuzuka was as sharp as a tack. Attentive, too. She wasn't as boisterous and arrogant when they trained; she was focused, listening to every word Shizune said without a single smart remark, or reading texts silently for extensive periods of time without so much as a peep.

The Inuzuka was passionate about Medical Ninjutsu. Honestly, she had more passion than Shizune recalled having at that age.

Where she saw her time with Lady Tsunade as an honor and a privilege, and she was so happy to be her student, Mimi's view was fixated on improving herself for the threats ahead. For the future they all knew was waiting for them.

Her motivation, in addition to her solid foundation and an incredible grasp of not only the fundamentals, but advanced concepts as well, made her the perfect student.

There's a real chance Mimi will surpass me in a few years, Shizune considered. She has the drive and the talent for it. She may even surpass Lady Tsunade, given time.

As for Hinata, she was a dedicated student and determined to succeed. She had the chakra control and the motivation to achieve her goal; it was a matter of when she succeeded now, as opposed to if she ever would.

She's taken to it like a duck to water.

At the moment they both had goals to achieve.

For Hinata, it was studying the anatomy of the human body in addition to learning the Mystical Palm Technique. It was the first step in building and solidifying her foundation, which she had already begun building by learning how to create healing ointments. From there many new doors would open for her.

A medical-ninja who possessed the power to shut off chakra points and alter the flow of chakra would make for quite the dangerous enemy, she felt. A very dangerous enemy.

For Mimi, her present goal was to advance her knowledge of poisons, toxins and antidotes, among other lessons the Inuzuka didn't need spelled out to her; sharpening chakra control, advancing her healing abilities, both in tending to patients and tending to herself and Aoko, learning how to conduct surgeries, etc.

As for poisons and toxins, they needed more experts in the field, especially if this war was inevitable. Which it seemed to be.

By learning the poisons and toxins utilized by every Nation, Mimi would be sufficiently prepared to recognize the signs of poison, venom or another toxic agent. She would know the antidotes and potentially save the lives of many of their comrades.

There was also Orochimaru and his interest in Amaririsu and Sasuke to consider. Mimi would follow the two Uchiha wherever they went, that was plain to see, and Orochimaru was fond of experimenting with new poisons and toxins.

If we can prepare her to face that, even perhaps find a safe means to help her gain immunity to the known poisons and venoms he's used in the past, it will grant Mimi and Aoko a considerable advantage against pawns of Orochimaru. Or the man himself, if it comes to that.

She prayed it wouldn't.

Lessons on poison would also allow Shizune to teach her student—it was still strange to say that—how to craft poisons herself and how to use the more offensive skills of Medical Ninjutsu. Like the Poison Fog Jutsu, among other dangerous and deadly techniques.

"Mimi, Hinata," she called to her students. Still strange. "Lady Tsunade has summoned me. Do you have any questions before I go?"

"Not yet," Mimi replied distractedly.

"N- No, ma'a— eep!"

The startled sound broke Mimi and Aoko from their studies. Shizune's dark eyes also snapped to her youngest student in time to see Hinata stumbling back, tripping on her feet and falling to her backside.

On the table, the fish was flopping around wildly.

Hinata's first success.

Jumping to her feet with a laugh in her throat, Mimi started to run over to the younger girl.

"Looks like you caught a wild one," the Inuzuka laughed. "Don't worry about us, Shizune-sensei. Go see what the Old Hag needs. We'll keep working here."

"Okay," she smiled, feeling a hint of pride in her students. "Nice work, Hinata."

"Th- thank you, Shizune-sensei!"

This may only be the beginning, she thought as she turned to leave. But I can't wait to see how far you two will go.

---

The hospital hallways were just as she remembered them: Quiet, sterile and on the verge of driving her absolutely insane in boredom.

Amari sat on a chair outside of the adjacent hospital room, newly assigned to the three Land of River natives, legs crossed beneath her and fingers fiddling with her purple leggings, driven to stretching and pulling the fabric despite knowing better to ease the troublesome waiting.

She hadn't been placed on house arrest. Instead, to her mind, it seemed she was grounded by the Fifth Hokage. She'd been told in very specific terms to, "Sit there, stay quiet and don't move. If I find you pacing the hallway, there'll be hell to pay."

It was just short of, "Go to your room and think about your actions."

In other words, grounded. Totally, unequivocally grounded by the Fifth Hokage.

Since their arrival, Shizune had joined the Fifth Hokage and Atsuko inside while Miss Anbu, her guard while Mr. Anbu was recovering, stood across from her. Staring. Watching as if expecting her to attempt to vanish again and, if she had to bet, planning dozens of ways to ground her harder than the Hokage had.

Possibly literally if she possessed Lightning Nature chakra.

Amari was pretty sure she annoyed the woman. She'd seen her clenching her fists and loosening them, sensed in the awkward silence a tension of emotion she never sensed from Mr. Anbu.

Generally Mr. Anbu was calm and collected, though there were times exasperation palpably poured through like blood into white cotton.

Conversely, though Miss Anbu held the same aura of calm and serenity at times, there were moments like these where she felt an underlying tension, similar to how a thorn or a splinter stuck beneath the skin felt, and though she wanted to use tweezers to remove it, she couldn't see where to pull from.

Releasing the fabric of her leggings, she lifted her gaze to meet the dark eyes of the Anbu kunoichi with her solitary onyx eye.

There's something about this woman… She noticed her fists loosening as they held each other's silent gaze. I don't know what it is, but when I look at her…I feel something. Something familiar.

Was it the Invasion? Had one of her Shadow Clones seen her then? Sensed her chakra? There was so much activity and stimuli from that day she was certain she hadn't consciously processed all of it.

The important and harshest memories stuck out, such as the sounds of screaming, the ribbons of smoke rising in every direction, the giant Snakes, the explosions, adrenaline, the intensity of battle she could still feel in her muscles if she lost herself to it.

Most of her memories of the Invasion were predominantly negative and generally intense. Yet that easily led smaller details slipping through the cracks.

It may have been the Invasion, she considered. But… She flattened her lips together and squinted unconsciously. It feels deeper than that. It's at the tip of my tongue, I recognize the taste and subconsciously know the name of its flavor, but the words escape me.

Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you?

Her gaze drifted quickly to the kunoichi's gear in search of a physical object that might somehow trigger the memory she was searching for.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. She wore the standard Anbu gear—grey armor and black clothes. No other tattoos that she could see besides the Anbu tattoo on her right shoulder. No pendents or necklaces or accessories that awoke a memory.

The only defining feature of the woman she could see was her long, waist-long waterfall of purple hair and her cat-mask, distinctly marked by three red stripes. Nothing else stuck out. She stood around the same height as her mother and bore a similar womanly physique, graceful and strong, if not a smidgen less broad at the shoulders and thinner by small degree.

"What is it?" Miss Anbu asked, voice like a warm, soothing stream.

"Huh?" Amari snapped out of her scrutinizing, taken off guard by the question. She didn't expect conversation; Mr. Anbu hadn't really begun speaking to her until recently.

"You're staring," she pointed out but not unkindly.

She was. But she didn't know how to ask or explain her reasons to a stranger.

"Maybe I like staring contests," she offered, the corner of her lips tugging up slightly.

"Hm," Miss Anbu hummed a soft laugh. "You blink too much for that to be true."

"Maybe I'm really bad at them but still enjoy it."

"Mmhm." There was a pause. Then… "Is there something wrong…Amaririsu?" The Anbu agent's voice was tinged by uncertainty. As if the name itself didn't fit naturally on her tongue.

"There's nothing wrong. It's just…" she trailed off, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. "This may be strange to ask, but have we met before? You seem familiar."

The eye-holes in her cat-mask made it possible to see her eyes go wide. The sharp inhale was audible in the quiet hallway.

Despite the mask Amari suddenly recognized the expressions and feelings the frozen visage of a cat had hidden from her.

The silence wasn't just for the duty, the uncomfortable hands opening and closing wasn't a result of annoyance, the long looks she had failed to read until that moment said everything so clearly.

It said the same thing Genma's, her uncle's and aunt's expressions and eyes had said when they looked at her.

"I mourned you. But here you are. Alive and well."

"It's really you, Haya," she recalled Genma's baffled voice.

Feeling her heart rush, Amari uncrossed her legs and stood up against the orders of the Hokage, eye as wide as Miss Anbu's. She felt an epiphany coming on. She felt the memory that refused to fire properly sparking in the back of her mind like a wet match trying to strike a flame.

"You are familiar," she realized. "It isn't just my imagination. We've met. We have. I just…can't remember it properly." She stepped closer to the Anbu kunoichi, who looked paralyzed in shock. "It wasn't the Invasion. It was before that. Long before that."

"Amaririsu…"

"No," she shook her head, stepping again closer to the Anbu agent. "That isn't the name you called me. I can tell by how foreign it is to you. You're still getting used to it. Just like Genma-sensei had to. You knew me. You knew my family. Or…"

"Or?" Miss Anbu questioned.

The memory wasn't firing. The match was too wet. The atmosphere was too foggy to see it. Yet there was something she could sense within it. The familiarity's whisper carried to her ears and provided an answer.

Amari stepped closer, cautiously, feeling her heart beating harder.

"Or we considered you apart of it."

The Anbu agent made a sound between a gasp and choking. It told her she had hit the target perfectly.

Suddenly the hospital room door slid open. Out of it, Shizune exited and quickly departed on a mission, followed closely behind by the Fifth Hokage, who's shoulder was strangely absent of Atsuko.

"Amaririsu, walk with me," the Hokage ordered, shutting the door behind her and starting to walk off instantly.

The irritation was gone. Tsunade was all business.

Amari hesitated for a brief second, looking at Miss Anbu in search of the answers to her unspoken questions.

Who are you? Who were you to me and my family?

Better instincts pushed her to turn away and lightly jog to catch up to the Hokage, falling in step with her long strides as best she could with shorter legs. Miss Anbu shadowed them after a silent moment, duty overruling the swell of emotions she felt.

The Hokage didn't say anything immediately. Amari, knowing she had irritated her already once, waited silently for any sort of subject to be broached.

They were halfway to the Hokage's office before Tsunade finally spoke.

"Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?"

"I'm…sorry?"

"Don't be," the Hokage waved off her apology. "Most of the problems are sourced by factors out of your control. Since it was Atsuko's command I'll overlook you leaving the Leaf without my permission; Atsuko and the seniority of the Crows of the Leaf—like Osamu—are the equivalent of Commanders among our ranks and, should an emergency arise, they wield the power to take command over a shinobi or a unit."

Tsunade glanced down at her. "You saw that firsthand in the Invasion, first when she ordered you to pass information to Kakashi and Guy, and then during the Invasion itself, according to the reports."

True, she had. Even the Anbu squad who appeared—and who stopped her from falling down the stairs of the stadium because they scared her—heeded Atsuko's warning and gave it its due respect.

"So, no house arrest?"

"No. There was an emergency and Atsuko acted how I'd expect her to, given the situation at hand. And, frankly, if we can't trust Atsuko to have your best interests at heart, I think we both know we're screwed."

"Heh," Amari exhaled a soft laugh. "She didn't blackmail you, did she?"

"Wouldn't be hard for her. The debts I've acquired over the years…"

"Lady Mito was pretty distraught to hear you hadn't kicked the habit."

"Oh, don't even start," Tsunade scowled. "You're damn lucky I'm not assigning you and Naruto to dog walking and babysitting for telling my grandmother I still gambled!"

Amari grimaced. "Uh, well…"

"Never mind that," the Hokage huffed. "It isn't important right now. Your messenger bird, am I right to assume it'll be some time before we see it again?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly. A question about the weather would have seemed less random.

"How long does it usually take? Give me an estimate."

"Without missions or other interruptions?" The Hokage nodded. "It takes Kaito about a week there and a week back, give or take a few days. He's gotten stronger, so maybe he's able to shave off half a day or more on his journey. But he can be gone longer."

Amari shrugged a bit helplessly. "Missions come first. In his last letter, Haku mentioned he thought about my letter over the last week while handling the Crimson Flowers. If they're still hunting…"

"It could be a while," Tsunade finished for her. "I see. Well, it was worth asking even if it isn't helpful."

"Has…" Amari hesitated.

It wasn't her place or her rank to demand answers from the Hokage about the situation. It could be need-to-know at this stage, and as a shinobi off the active duty list presently, she didn't fall into that category. Even if she did have a hand in saving the three.

"If I may ask," she began again, "they're not responsible for those three men I saved, are they?"

"Depends." The Hokage glanced down at her. "Would you hold me responsible for every shinobi to go rogue prior to my inauguration?"

Amari made a face. "That'd just be stupid."

"Then no, they aren't."

The Hokage kept her strides long and their pace quick; Amari kept up but consistently found herself moving into a short trot to stay in step.

They avoided the areas where the density of Villager's was at its largest, weaving between roads to take the shortest path straight to the Hokage's office. Civilians and shinobi alike greeted the Fifth Hokage as they passed.

"You'll need a different outfit," the Hokage said suddenly.

"Huh? What's wrong with my clothes?" Amari asked, looking down at her long sleeve, shorts and leggings. Was she about to be scolded about fashion by the Hokage of all people? That would be even worse than being grounded.

"They aren't appropriate for the mission I'm assigning you."

"A mission? Wait, does that mean I'm cleared for active duty?"

"No." Tsunade stopped suddenly, turned to look at her and placed her hands on her hips. "You won't be acting as a shinobi on this mission. You will be acting as an official political envoy of the Leaf."

Wide-eyed, Amari blinked. "An official political envoy?"

What in the world had Atsuko gotten her into?

---

They were summoned to the Hokage's office without any grand preamble.

By the look of Lee, his green spandex jumpsuit scuffed and marked by stains of dirt, his bowl cut damp and his scent the perfume of deodorized perspiration, he had rushed straight here from the training field.

Neji was the opposite of Lee, his outfit and appearance pristine and orderly, neither a smudge of dirt or bead of sweat visible on him or his clothes. He had cleaned up before arriving; members of the Hyūga Clan had to maintain a certain air of unbreakable and unfettered calm, the image they presented to the Leaf was always one of nobility, strength, and peace.

It sure presented the stick wedged in their ass to the world, but that was Mimi's totally non-biased and completely humble observation.

Tenten was closer to Neji in terms of appearance—clean and smelling nothing of sweat like Lee. Good hygiene practices overall, but Mimi knew, as it was drilled into her as well in the Academy, the silent standard expected of kunoichi was stricter than it was for men or boys.

A boy or man could walk in soaked in sweat, covered in dirt or even stained with blood—their own or an enemies—and no one would bat an eyelash.

A girl or women doing the same wouldn't be scolded, definitely not by the likes of the Fifth Hokage, who's hands had been covered in the insides of patients through the years, but there was a silent stigma behind it.

Kunoichi were meant to be pretty, beautiful, attractive to look upon at all times, presenting an image—according to their teachers—that expressed strength and beauty, delicateness and modesty, sensuality and innocence.

Blood, dirt and sweat did none of that. It broke the image—shattered the captivating mystique. Suddenly they weren't dolls to be appreciated and tended to but warriors who were capable of killing and other unattractive deeds.

Even Lady Tsunade still adheres to the silent standard, Mimi thought, reaching up and scratching Aoko behind the ears, who was resting on her head. Part of her Transformation Jutsu is vanity and the refusal to let anyone see how old she is. Part of it is the image she has to present as a woman, which has even more bearing now that she's Hokage.

An old man like the Third Hokage portrayed strength and wisdom. An old woman Hokage? In their society, where the title of Kage throughout the ages was so far only held by two women, it was easily twisted to be seen as weakness. So she had to look sprite and young, not to mention beautiful.

Never mind her super strength. Never mind the lives she saved or her intelligence. Physical appearance was somehow more important.

And then we wonder why kids like Ino and Sakura end up playing catch up. Or end up dying, Mimi rolled her eyes. Glad I was raised right. Screw the standards. Being strong, smart and capable is attractive. Why should I bow to some outdated ideal of beauty? Kunoichi aren't just assassins and spies anymore.

Fortunately, there were peers who felt the same as her. Like Tenten. Like Amari. Even Sakura, Ino and Hinata to varying degrees.

Just another status quo for us to tear apart.

Still, even if they were little rebels, good hygiene wasn't a bad lesson to adhere to. It certainly made living with an enhanced sense of smell easier when your friends all took care of themselves.

Stuffing her hands into her flak jacket pockets, the Inuzuka rocked her head side to side as she looked at the empty seat of ahead of them and then to Shizune—the only other person in the room besides her team.

The Hokage's assistant studied a clipboard, writing on it now and then.

"'You've been summoned by the Fifth Hokage. There's an urgent mission she has for your team,'" Mimi repeated the medic-nin's words.

"Patience is a virtue, Mimi," Shizune replied without raising her eyes.

"So is virginity," the Inuzuka grinned, shrugging, "but everyone loses that eventually."

In one sentence, to her pride, she caused Lee's face to flush red as rose, Shizune to choke and sputter as she turned a pulsing shade of pink, and Tenten to billow out steam from her burning face.

Neji, ever the stick in the mud, scoffed, crossed his arms and looked away.

"Your vulgarity truly knows no bounds."

"Aw, how precious. You're blushing," Mimi grinned.

"Hardly," he sniffed.

"You are! It's kind of surprising. I almost expected your head to blow up. Maybe I've been spending too much time with sweet and innocent Hinata."

"If you know what's good for you, you will refrain from corrupting Lady Hinata," he warned.

"You can't corrupt someone as pure as her," Mimi shook her head. "She's way too innocent. Like so innocent she's gonna faint from holding hands. Hell, I'd bet she'll end up needing CPR because her heart stopped when someone kisses her. I can't corrupt that."

"Let us pray you are right."

Sensing where the line in the sand was, the Inuzuka decided to charge right over it bearing a wild grin.

"I bet all of my mission earnings if I charmed Hinata to third base that she'll have a heart attac—"

The only warning to the impending trouble was Aoko leaping off her head. Then she felt Tenten latch onto her back, one arm wrapping tightly around her neck, the other fist pounding against the top of her skull.

"You big idiot!" Tenten yelled, red in the face. "First you make a crude joke to the Hokage's assistant—look at her! She's teaching you Medical Ninjutsu and you broke her!"

Through the untamed dark-brown hair obscuring her vision, Mimi felt a swell of pride at the horrified pink face of her teacher.

"Anko would be proud," Aoko chortled.

"Then," Tenten didn't relent, pummeling her pride and making a lump swell instead, "you go and say something like- like that about poor Hinata in front of Lee and Neji and me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Mimi tried to apologize through a lack of oxygen caused by both the chokehold and an airless cackle.

"Sorry isn't good enough!"

When the Hokage arrived, she found Neji and Tenten standing with their arms crossed and heads facing away from Mimi, who was seated on the floor nursing the lump on her head with Medical Ninjutsu.

Her proud grin did not falter, however. Lee and Shizune had recomposed themselves and Aoko lay in her lap.

"I'm not going to bother asking why you're sitting on the floor," the Hokage started, maneuvering around her desk to sit behind it. "Let's cut straight to business. Today, along Kenashi Pass, three men from the Land of Rivers nearly lost their lives; in fact, they would have died were it not for Atsuko's agents. And Amaririsu Yūhi, of course."

"Crossing Kenashi Pass? At this time of year? Are they crazy?" Tenten asked, flabbergasted by the news.

"They are likely desperate. Very desperate," Neji concluded.

"What was Amari doing all the way out there?" Mimi wondered, standing up with Aoko in her arms. "Far as I know, she's supposed to be recovering."

"She is," Tsunade agreed. "A lightning bolt struck the mountain as they were crossing, breaking off large pieces of stone. The men had no choice but to dive into the freezing rapids below.

"Knowing time was limited, Atsuko recruited the first person she could confidently depend on—Amaririsu. Were it not for Atsuko's vigilance and Amaririsu's speed in bringing them to the Leaf it is all but certain those men would have perished. They're all recovering in the hospital as we speak."

"I'd expect nothing less from my eternal rival," Lee declared passionately.

"These men," Tsunade continued, "hail from the Katabami Gold Mine—the most abundant and prosperous mine in all of the Land of Rivers. About six months ago a group of goons calling themselves the Kurosuki Family arrived and ran the previous magistrate out of town, taking over the Village and apparently killing people left and right."

The Hokage narrowed her eyes. "One of them men to wake—Rokusuke, he called himself—claims they're burying people alive, holding funerals for the living."

"That is unforgivable!" said Lee.

"Can Atsuko confirm that?" Mimi asked.

"Atsuko's Intel suggest it's true. Worse, the whole reason her agents have taken an interest in this Kurosuki Family is two-fold: First, the name drew their interest and for good reason, given what we now know. Second, two of her agents have thus far lost their lives investigating the situation."

"You're kidding," Tenten gasped.

"It's hard to imagine anyone capable of locating and eliminating one of the Crows of the Leaf," Neji said, pursing his lips in discomfort. "The leader of this group must be very powerful."

"He is," Tsunade nodded gravely. "Raiga Kurosuki was once a member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, wielding the legendary Kiba Blades. These blades are imbued with lightning, capable of increasing the physical power and speed of its wielders, manipulating Lightning Natured chakra, and controlling natural lightning. All with what appears to be little cost, though it's hard to say since those who have wielded the Kiba Blades have never died in combat, and those who have faced them and survived are few and far between."

"Taking on a Seven Ninja Swordsman is a tall order," Aoko rumbled.

"Yeah. You said it, Aoko. So, our mission is to take this Swordsman and his goons out?"

"In part," the Hokage said, bringing her hands together in a steeple. "Normally, a mission like this is pretty straight forward: Escort the client then neutralize the threat. However, this mission has a second dimension, one that could affect the Leaf's future for good or ill, depending on your success or failure.

"Right now," she continued in their captivated silence, "there are two Mist shinobi journeying across the Land of Fire; we believe their destination is the same as yours—the Katabami Gold Mine. More specifically, Raiga Kurosuki and his Kiba Blades. What's more, Atsuko's agents have confirmed they're both members of the Fifth Mizukage's inner circle."

"Quite the coincidence," Neji commented.

"It's likely they've only recently caught wind of Raiga's location," Tsunade said. "It's also likely their mission is to regain the Kiba Blades and, if they're lucky, regain a lost ally in the form of Raiga Kurosuki. Assuming they can convince him to align with the Fifth Mizukage's ideals as they did with Zabuza Momochi.

"As you can imagine, that will complicate your mission and puts our objectives and Villages at ends with each other." Tsunade stared hard at them. "I want to be perfectly clear: Do not provoke these two Mist shinobi into conflict. If they attack you, you have my authority to defend yourselves by any means necessary. Otherwise, when it comes to these two, your mission is to escort and protect a political envoy of the Leaf on their mission. That's it."

"What's this political envoy's mission?" Mimi asked.

"From what we can tell, your teams will intersect in the Land of Rivers, likely at the Katabami Gold Mine or just outside of it. You'll know better what to expect and when to expect it once you're on the road.

"Our hope is you'll cross paths before they reach the Mine. Should that happen, the envoy's mission is, first, to determine what these two Mist shinobi are after. What do they hope to accomplish with Raiga and how do they intend to accomplish it?

"Once they've done that, and depending on what their answer is, it'll be up to them to negotiate a way for us to peacefully and amicably achieve our objectives in a way that satisfies your mission parameters and theirs. At best, this will become a joint-operation between Mist and Leaf."

"And if we're ill-behaved we'll cause irreversible damage to the alliance our Villages are trying to build."

"Precisely."

It was straight forward enough. Dangerous and complicated, but straight forward nonetheless.

Lee raised his hand. "If I may ask, Lady Hokage, who is the envoy we'll be escorting?" He lowered his hand. "This will be the first time we've ever escorted a political envoy. It's only the second time I've heard they exist, to be honest."

"Second time?" Tenten questioned. "When was the first?"

"During a marathon Guy-sensei and I ran," Lee said. "We invited your three to join us, but you all refused."

Because we aren't insane, Mimi thought wryly.

A marathon concocted by Might Guy meant running for days straight until you either collapsed and earned a quality stay at the hospital, or you learned how to run while sleeping.

Like Lee and Guy.

"Anyway, from what Guy-sensei has taught me, though, an envoy among shinobi is generally a shinobi themselves who is well-respected and well-known to best represent the Village," Lee said, looking back to the Hokage. "This way they are taken seriously by those they are speaking to and, should the worst happen, they posses the senses to see through a traitorous deception and the power to defend themselves.

"For example, the Head of a Clan like Neji's uncle or Mimi's aunt, a veteran like Guy-sensei, or a shinobi among your personal guard."

"All true," Tsunade nodded once. "Although they don't know they'll be meeting Leaf shinobi—the Fifth Mizukage has likely cautioned them, as I have with you, against any form of conflict with us—the worst thing we can do is send someone who's status, or lack thereof, might insult them."

"Imagine if the Sand hadn't sent Gaara, his siblings and Hikari to aid us against the Sound Four," Shizune added. "Had they sent rookie Genin, not only would those rookies have likely died, it could be seen as the Sand spiting our Alliance. Again. Instead they sent shinobi who could turn the tide, solidifying their commitment to our Alliance and earning themselves a favor from us in the future that they can call upon at any time."

It was a good point. Had they sent some unknown Genin's who were more liable to die at the hands of the Sound Four, she would've been pissed. And Sasuke and Amari would likely be in Orochimaru's hands right now.

Or dead.

"As for your mission," the Hokage began, "alongside Rokusuke and his friends, you'll be escorting a Clan Head to meet the Mist shinobi. They will—"

A knock at the door interrupted the Fifth Hokage.

"Ah, here they are. Enter!" she called.

Curious, Mimi sniffed the air as the door creaked open, and felt her lips split in a grin.

Through the door, wild blue hair tied up in a high ponytail by a purple bandana, Amari sauntered in with the air of a young Queen. A very pretty young Queen who exuded confidence despite her shy expression and strength despite her physique being hidden beneath layers of formal clothes.

She was attired in a kimono the color of lapis blue, a bright haori which matched the sunset, and the usual accessories—two silver hoop earrings, one pair with amethyst gems at their bottoms, and a necklace who's pendent dipped beneath the cloth of her kimono. Her left eye was hidden behind her forehead protector.

"Ama- Amaririsu!" Lee was baffled and, by the light tint of pink on his cheeks, seeing Amari as a girl for the first time instead of an eternal rival.

"Whoa." Tenten's response, and blush, proved she wasn't impervious to Amari's magnetic presence either.

"So it's you then," Neji said, unfazed by her change of appearance.

"My Empress," Mimi mocked a theatrical bow. "What a privilege it is to feast my eyes upon Your Grace's fetching visage, which has struck dumb all of my dear comrades. How may this humble servant of your ice cream bowl harem serve thee?"

Amari slumped and exhaled a long, painful sigh.

"This is going to be such a drag."