Litter of Misfits

by Minnionette

A naked, 3 year old Naruto wandering into her dog kennels in the middle of the night? That was a shock. Inuzuka Tsume latching onto this stray and claiming him as her own? Not a shock. After all, Naruto isn't the first naked, abandoned stray that Tsume kept, and Danzo would eat the Hokage's hat if Naruto is the last stray she ever brings home. Want Of A Nail AU (VERY dark themes.)

20. Alpha Years - Chapter Seventeen

Author's notes: So, I've always had a difficult time reconciling how powerful the Uchiha Clan is, and I just didn't like them in general... until this chapter. Because somehow, in an attempt to bring some levity to the darkness of the Alpha Years, a part of me decided that the Uchiha are really just a bunch of overpowered dorks who remain flabbergasted with Inuzuka Natsumi's behaviors. (As a side note, if the Uchiha really were all that powerful, why do they keep dropping like flies? Hence why Kagami is still alive in this story.)

o-o-o

o-o-o-o

o-o-o-o-o

Sakumo deposited Tsume on the edge of the ravine and then slid down the rope to fetch Danzo. Tenkasu Kyou, the med nin with the nut-brown skin, broke away from where he had been healing Ichi's paws, torn bloody and raw from his desperate attempts to dig through the stone wall to his alpha mistress.

"Are you hurt?" Kyou demanded as he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her further away from the ravine's edge. They were immediately crowded by all four ninken, who knew better than to lash out at allies. "Wow. Better fix your nose there, pronto." Before she could say anything, he sent a wave of chakra through her body, and then jerked back as if Tsume kicked him in the balls. "Shit. Shit." His near-blind panic attracted the attention of another Konoha med nin, a Yamanaka kunoichi whose name Tsume couldn't remember. "Mai, you take this one." Kyou pushed Tsume into Mai's arms.

"What's wrong with her?" Mai asked with a frown as she brushed a lock of her short blonde hair away from her tell-tale eyes. San and Shi stared at Mai as Ichi nudged Tsume's elbow and whimpered.

"Battlefield… you-know-what.

Mai's breath hitched at that. "What?" Tsume sensed the other Konoha nin and allied nin turn their attention on her as Mai sent a wave of chakra through Tsume just as Kyou had. Ni growled at them in warning. "I don't have a kit for that. They never gave us any!"

A whisper rippled through the ranks of ninja who had accompanied Sakumo, almost like a wildfire.

"Battlefield you-know-what?"

"Battlefield you-don't-wanna know!"

A shinobi from Jomae, whose left arm was splintered and in a sling, spat on an Iwa corpse in disgust, and then followed through with a vicious kick. "She's just a kid, you bastards!"

To Tsume's rising embarrassment, she realized that everyone now knew she had been raped. "Come with me," Mai said, gingerly placing her hand against Tsume's left shoulder to steer her over to a broken stone spike where her ninken had been treated. She touched Tsume like Tsume was made of glass and ready to shatter at any moment. Tsume didn't know why – the worst thing about being raped was how Sakumo had seen. It was actually over much faster than she was used to, and the pain in her pelvis wasn't anything like the pain in both of her arms right now.

And then she realized that word would continue to spread through the wagon train once everyone returned, and then Kokoro and Kushina were going to know. Tsume wondered if she could hide out with Danzo for a while, since he seemed pretty useful at scaring away her teammates.

Tails wagging and ears perked high, all four ninken were grateful to see her. Tsume let herself snuggle in the middle of them, bracing her sore back against San, Ni pressing into her side, and Shi resting his head on her lap. Ichi licked her toes with a thumping tail as Kyou resumed healing Ichi's paws. Mai's hands glided over Tsume's left arm, carefully sensing the damage without undressing Tsume.

"Everything will be okay," Mai whispered to Tsume. "You'll get through this." She kept whispering the same things over and over, as if trying to convince herself more than Tsume. It occurred to Tsume that the Academy had done a really lousy job covering rape… unless it had been covered in those kunoichi-only classes that the Unholy Trio had a lifetime ban against ever attending? In retrospect, that might've been a really lousy decision on the Trio's part.

Then, cringing, Mai dropped her hands low. "May I touch you…there?"

Tsume stared at Mai for a long moment, and then said, "Look, I know this sounds odd, but I know how to fix this damage on myself. I was taught to. So if you heal my left arm, I can heal myself down there, and then you don't have to do any touching." Especially not when Mai stank of pity and confusion.

"Are you sure that will be all right? I, I mean, I'm more for dealing with wounds of the mind, not so much the wounds of the body, but I can certainly heal your arm, yes."

Well, Mai was certainly no Yuu, that was for sure. And Tsume had no intention of letting such a person anywhere near the wounds of her mind when they're going to be blundering about in their speech, unsure of how to talk to her about the very cause of the wounds. And she certainly wouldn't trust the woman with her precious nose. "I'll be okay. I don't remember most of what happened," she had no qualms against lying to a Yamanaka, "partly because it was a blur, and partly because of my brain injury. Sakumo killed him though, and that makes me feel better."

Mai wrung her hands for a few moments longer, glancing around as if she could pawn Tsume onto someone else. When she noticed that Kyou had left Ichi to tend to Danzo as Sakumo lifted him over the edge, she turned back to Tsume and rested hands that glowed with green chakra against Tsume's left arm. She started muttering platitudes again, but Tsume tuned it out.

She relaxed against San and closed her eyes. Her nose stopped bleeding, so she took in as deep a breath as she could with as much chakra concentrated to her nose that she could spare. She tried to ignore the myriad of surrounding scents, to extend her awareness further out around them. Twenty percent – thirty – fifty – oh. Oh! She felt something burn in her heart, and almost didn't recognize what joyful relief felt like. Mai left after healing the arm enough to stop the bleeding, but Tsume was comfortable where she was at, so she didn't move.

When Sakumo approached Tsume, she tilted her head forward and opened her eyes. She did her best not to cringe at his close presence. "It'll get worse from here if we go at it alone," she told Sakumo as he crouched down beside her, balancing on the balls of his feet.

"There's not many Iwa nin out there, but there's a lot of Kumo nin. It looks like they're mainly fighting with the Kusa nin, except we have to go through the battle fields. Most of our people are wounded, and I don't think the samurai are mobile enough if the Iwa or the Kumo come at us in large numbers." Sakumo scratched behind Ichi's ears, and studied her intensely. "I sent a messenger hawk to Konoha when we left the main camp, requesting reinforcements."

"I figured." Tsume grinned at Sakumo. "That had to be the only reason why I smell the Uchiha and the hell hounds a hundred kilometers away. Real hell hounds – gouka inugami!"

"A hundred?" Sakumo froze. "Wait… gouka inugami? Just how would you even know what a gouka inugami smells like?"

Tsume shrugged and let the chakra disperse from her nose. Her nose throbbed and stung. She felt exhausted and ready to sleep for a month. "They kinda smell like week-dead dogs smothered in volcanic ash and sulfur. It's one of Aunt Natsumi's favorite summons. She said it's reserved only for the most extreme situations because they're really hard to control, and have a tendency to consume the soul of their summoner if the summoner shows the smallest hint of fear. Well, they have a tendency to go after anything that smells of fear, which is what makes them really hard to control, I guess." She frowned in thought as Sakumo stared. "We took them on a picnic, once, in the Forest of Death. They ate some slugs, and didn't like how they tasted, and then romped a little bit with the tigers."

Sakumo scratched his head. "The Hokage wasn't kidding when he said your aunt was a one-woman army with her summons. I take it that she's accompanying the Uchiha – good, we'll need all the fire power we can get. Literally, I guess, given the Uchiha's inclination for kaiten jutsu. Speaking of gouka inugami, do you have any carrots?"

Tsume riffled through her pockets, because she had been sneaking treats to Juubi whenever she thought that Danzo wasn't watching. "Yeah. Do gouka inugami like carrots?"

"Well, I don't know about the gouka inugami, but I've got to get Juubi to hold still for Kyou to patch him up. Juubi's the only one who can haul Danzo's ass back to the train without getting hurt, since Danzo doesn't like to be carried by anyone with two legs." As Sakumo straightened upward, Tsume leaned to the side to see Danzo commanding Kyou to give him the first aid supplies.

"You heavy-handed oaf, I'll patch myself up. Go take care of Tsume's nose, because we need that more than my leg."

"Damn Shimura," Kyou muttered as he stomped over to Tsume. "I'm sick and tired of dealing with an entire clan of sadomasochistic bastards."

Danzo twitched. "What was that, medic?"

Tsume patted Sakumo's knee for his attention. "Why do we call Danzo the War Hawk? I thought hawks are supposed to be calm, patient predators."

"Hmm? Probably because he inspires enough fear in people without being called something more apt… like Juubi."

"I can hear you two!"

Sakumo stuck his tongue out at Danzo. "And just what to you intend to do about it, Captain? Sic your horse on me? Good, it'll just make it easier for me to catch Juubi."

oOoOoOo

Ten Uchiha, half from the already-strapped police force, gathered up their gear and supplies in preparation for leaving Konoha. The Fire Daimyo had called on the Hokage and all available resources a month ago to deal with the conflicts that were approaching too close to the Capital, and even took the life of the Daimyo's first son, and he hadn't felt comfortable with just the Fire Guardians and his military forces. Konoha was currently protected by the oldest and youngest of the ninja, and a civilian population determined to help guard their home. Konoha's main forces were split, each led by a Sannin and paired with forces of their allies, to take out the remaining leaders of the Second Shinobi World War and crush the opposition once and for all.

But Konoha didn't lose sight of the little details amidst the big picture. The wounded of Konoha and her allies had asked for help with protecting their train, and Konoha – and the Uchiha especially – took their duty to protect the most vulnerable very seriously. It was something that the Second Hokage had very carefully instilled in his students, and Uchiha Kagami, the stalwart Head of Internal Affairs, was determined to live and die by the teachings of his old sensei.

It was midnight by the time Kagami finished gathering his own supplies (weapons, snacks and two water canteens, his heart pills, spare toilet paper – Kagami firmly believed only in the essentials, but life was rough enough without the luxury of extra-soft), and preparing what he considered would be a somewhat competent team. He was working with a very abrupt deadline, and had given his team less than four hours to prepare upon receiving the missive from the Hokage's secretary. His chosen team was an eclectic mix of (much) older and younger Uchiha, retired and inexperienced, neurotic and tranquil.

That was fine. Kagami like variety; it was more entertaining that way.

They were silent as they slipped through the streets, joining all together beside the main entrance, to await the opening of the massive gates so that they could slip through one-by-one. It would be the last time the gates would open – with the absence of the ten Uchiha, their forces would be too thin to guard open gates. They would be sealed shut, and only the returning forces with the wagon train, or the return of the Hokage himself, could reopen the gates.

Quiet footsteps approached them, and all eyes turned to face the newcomer.

And then all but two men instantly looked elsewhere.

"Well," Kagami's voice was a slow drawl, and he even clapped his hands in a genuine show of appreciation. "I see you've kept the traditional Inuzuka battle garb after all these years." He had seen it all before, albeit more than three decades ago. Oh, and what a glorious sight it had been to a hormonal, adolescent virgin. He owed Senju Tobirama many thanks for such. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Natsumi-san?"

Inuzuka fangs flashed white as she stepped into the pool of light given by the single overhead lamp. The beads, bangles, feathers, ribbons and bells woven into her long tangled silver locks clinked together as she tossed her head. "I'm going with you." Her eyes were outlined in crimson, which only served to highlight the thick, raised scar that bisected her nose and forehead. Crimson was also smeared on her cheeks and jowls, and across her shattered forehead. She looked like a youki drenched in blood.

Kagami shook his head. "I cannot give authorization to permit such. Your remaining presence is very important for the safety and wellbeing of our Village." He was the single strongest shinobi in active duty that still remained in Konoha – the only reason he hadn't been called out with the Hokage was because of his heart. Natsumi was the single strongest ninja, retired or active, and Konoha couldn't afford her absence.

Natsumi crossed her arms, finger-painted with intricate swirls of crimson red. She took a step forward, and the Uchiha at his back retreated a step. Kagami was annoyed. "First of all, I'm not the only retired Inuzuka clanswoman who packs a real mean punch. Bashira is still around and has gotten fat and lazy in her retirement, so she could use some light exercise with battling invading enemies. I even got her to sign my bear summon, just in case Konoha needs extra firepower, because I don't think the horses will quite cut it." Aunt Natsumi wagged her finger, still keeping her arms crossed. "Second of all, Inuzuka don't need an authorization – it's in our clan treaty. And even if such a clause didn't exist, I still wouldn't be stopped. Hatake attached a P.S. to his missive that my great-niece is alive. With the deaths of my sister and Hidarime, that makes Tsume the clan head. I will do whatever it takes to protect her. The alpha keeps the pack together; we revolve around her – or did, before my sister impounded us behind these walls. I fear that the death of the alpha will be the death of the pack. And the death of the pack would be a tragic loss for Konoha – so, see?" She grinned, although it was more of a flash of her teeth – the easier to rip out someone's throat, which she had demonstrated once before. "I'm really also doing this for the safety and wellbeing of Konohagakure."

Kagami studied her with his Sharingan. Natsumi had always made a distinction between pack and clan; she just never bothered to share what, exactly, that distinction was. He suspected that it boiled down to the pack (what Inuzuka once were, and never should've stopped being), and clan (what village life had turned everyone into). Kagami's Will of Fire burned strong for all of Konoha, regardless of clan or civilian. Besides, there were only so many arguments he overheard between Tobirama and Natsumi before he realized that such arguments ended in angry sex, and would have to duck and run away with the rest of his team. Angry outdoors sex. There was a reason why Tobirama created so many training grounds. "Surely, Tsume can't be the last of the alphas."

"When the war started four years ago, the clan had eight viable alphas who had graduated the Academy. Seven have since been killed in action. I even counted the KIA notices last week to double-check."

"You didn't count yourself."

Natsumi tucked her chin down and tilted her head, like a cornered animal that was about to lunge. "I've always considered the loss of my children a sign from the gods that I am not suitable to hold the title of alpha."

The night air was cool, but it didn't seem to affect Inuzuka Natsumi. Kagami supposed that she had smeared herself with enough body paint that it qualified as an insulating layer. His eyes kept drifting back to the aquatic animals that she had painted across her chest. "Why do you have the otters upside down?" he asked, ignoring the impatient murmurs and shuffling feet from his clanspeople. He had seen her battle paints before, although the last time had been about, oh, fifteen-ish years ago, before she declared her retirement. The otters weren't normally upside-down.

"Have you ever tried painting on your chest when you can't really see what you're doing?" Natsumi pulled on her skin as she peered downward, her mood shifting to petulant. "The whales are easy to do, but the otters have always been a bit more tricky, and I didn't have my usual assistant at hand to do it for me. Besides, I was working on your stupid time limit, and I still had to find a babysitter for Kakashi and Kuromaru."

"Did you find one?" He truly hoped that she found the babysitter before putting on the traditional battle garb. Sakumo's son was going to have more than enough personal issues in life just from being raised by wolves without the added experience of tonight.

"Sure. Eight of them, in fact. I'd trust Pakkun with my life. I tried to talk Bashira into taking care of Kakashi, but she refused. She said it's because she wanted the dragon summon and not the bear summon, so it was probably just to spite me, the bitch."

Kagami set his hands on his hips and deliberately dragged his gaze up and down her body. Natsumi wore leather sandals on her feet, an old fur-lined loin cloth that was held in place by a studded belt, and a multicolored scarf that kept her hair out of her face. She rested her weapon one-handed on the ground – a massive battle ax, the fire-hardened wooden handle reinforced but well-worn, and the metal recently polished and oiled. Her breasts hung long and heavy, her torso was striped silver from stretch marks, and there was a roll of loose skin hanging from her abdomen –the traditional hallmarks of pregnancies that she wore without shame. She also brought a knapsack that was stuffed with summon scrolls.

Alas, Natsumi didn't have the tightly-corded musculature Kagami remembered from his youth… but then again, he didn't have his, either. He was forty-six years old now, and she had been over fifty years old in his youth, and she had looked marvelous back then. It was clear to him who had aged better. Rumor had it that the sire of Shinzou and Natsumi had been an Uzumaki. Kagami figured there had to be a grain of truth somewhere for the two women to have such sustained vitality long past the typical point where the wear and tear of the shinobi lifestyle made itself known to the fragile human body. "I think you've made your point. But for the sake of my companions, I must insist that you bind your breasts."

Natsumi angrily squinted at the Uchiha behind him. "Why? Don't tell me they've never seen tits before in their life." She knew that Kagami wasn't bothered by her half-nudity; years of her casual exhibitionism around Team Tobirama had done wonders in forging his blasé attitude.

"Not ones that hang that far down," Daimaru muttered.

"I have," Uncle Obito volunteered, raising his hand in the air. Then he said, "Ow!" when his wife side-kicked him in the shin.

"I'm also thinking," Kagami raised his voice to drown out the protests of his clanspeople, "that wearing the bindings would be beneficial for you. Surely, it can't be very comfortable to run without support. My wife has hinted towards such over the years."

"Yeah," said Ringo. "Besides, you might take someone's eye out with those nipple piercings."

Natsumi bared her teeth again. "They aren't the only piercings I have."

His clan's silence, broken only by a distant hooting owl somewhere in the forest, was uncomfortable. The only visible piercings had already been identified by Ringo. The (very small) part of Natsumi's body that hidden from view by the loincloth seemed like a rather uncomfortable place to have a piercing. Which Kagami knew existed – had even received quite the lecture from Natsumi on how to talk to his wife-to-be, Shimura Fumiko, about such, that it was his responsibility to ensure that his beloved would never have cause to be disappointed in how well he pleasured her, and how the piercing would make things easier on that front. Kagami was twenty years old and had tried to disappear into the ground, realizing that there was still some part of him that was quite capable of getting embarrassed by Natsumi despite a decade of exposure. That was enough for Danzo to get an earful from Natsumi on how Danzo should appreciate the idea of his sister not being deprived of a good orgasm, so he should do Fumiko and Kagami a favor, and tell her about intimate piercings.

(Danzo never did talk to his half-sister about the topic, preferring instead to do a very long mission in the Land of Frost, far away from Natsumi, when the wedding took place. Fumiko never forgave Danzo of this slight, nor did she get the piercing, and Kagami was quite able to please her just fine without the use of such, thankyouverymuchNatsumi.)

Not for the first time, Kagami found himself praying to his dead sensei. Yes, thank you so very much for that mind-breaking experience of being your apprentices, Hokage-sama. You have forever stunted my ability to be shocked. On the bright side, at least he didn't share in the dubious honor of being Tobirama's favorite.

Kagami took a deep breath to rebalance his center. "We'll try very hard not to get in your way if you agree to wear the breast bindings."

"Damn things will just cover up my artwork. Why would I want to do that?"

"There's nothing stopping you from ripping the bindings off while you run screaming like a rabid Amazon at the enemy. But, in the meantime, I ask that you cover up as a favor. Mikoto, do you have spares? Ah, good, thank you." He held the white bindings out to Natsumi, gratefully feeling like he was holding the flag of surrender instead of his teenaged daughter's underwear. By the way Natsumi eyed the bindings, she probably felt the same (minus the gratefulness).

She snatched the bindings just as the massive gates creaked open. "Fine." Then she barred her teeth. "I'll need a hand getting these on."

Kagami held up his hands in surrender and backed up a step. "My wife would be the first to tell you that I'm only talented in removing them. Mikoto, if you would."

Mikoto, looking young and unsure of herself, stepped forward. Natsumi cupped her breasts and held them in place, unabashed, as Mikoto reluctantly wrapped the bindings around her torso. When finished, Natsumi grinned and ruffled Mikoto's fine hair. "Gosh, you're cute!" She squealed as she even pinched one of Mikoto's cheeks. "Little Kagami-chan's daughter is all grown up and off to bloody her tanto! My, how the years have flown! You're, what, fifteen now?"

Kagami sighed as he thought of Natsumi's behaviors in the last fifteen years, after she finally retired from active duty. This was the woman he had known while the Second was alive. "I've always known that crazed persona you've cultivated over the years was just a cover-up."

"Wait." Kagami glanced over his shoulder at Fugaku, who looked flummoxed. "You mean being mostly naked and covered in paint isn't Inuzuka Natsumi going off the deep end?"

Natsumi growled, which Kagami ignored as he patted Fugaku's shoulder in sympathy. "She probably went off the deep end long before I was born, but you'll find a cold rationality with her methods of madness. But in this? I'm afraid what you're seeing is the pure, undiluted form of the Inuzuka before Konoha demanded that they become civilized and wear clothes." He heard Natsumi spit in displeasure at the mention of wearing clothes. "Now, just imagine her sixty years younger, multiply that by a hundred other naked, painted Inuzuka clanswomen, and you can easily see why they were one of the most intimidating clans to ever roam the countryside."

Kagami also half-suspected that the First Hokage really just wanted the Inuzuka clan to join Konoha so he could safely ogle the women without being on the battlefield, where such inattention could otherwise get him killed. That backfired, of course, because the other clans had demanded that the Inuzuka women revamp their wardrobe to better suit a more conservative society.

Uncle Obito, who had been rescued along with other children from slavers when he was four years old by a twenty-five year-old Natsumi (although the only thing Natsumi really did during the rescue was drop a whale on the slavers' ship, since the Uchiha and Senju did most of the work in rescuing said children), sighed wistfully. "It was a glorious sight," he said.

Fugaku's face went red and his eyes widened in fear. Apparently, he had an active imagination. "Er. But does she really have to come? We're wasting enough time on this old woman as it is!"

Kagami had seen enough sparring between Natsumi and the Second to know that age wasn't going to be a factor with her abilities. From what he was seeing oh so vividly right now, Natsumi wasn't hindered by a bent spine or arthritis. And no doubt her heart was in a far better shape than Kagami's, after he survived the same bout of rheumatic fever three years ago that killed his mother and his two eldest children.

His poor knees envied Natsumi and her damnable Uzumaki genes. "I'm not stopping her." He allowed his Sharingan to fade.

Fugaku's gaze flickered behind to Natsumi, and then back to Kagami. "There's ten of us, and we all have the Sharingan. We can stop her." He dropped his voice into a whisper. "Inuzuka Tsume is intolerable enough without her getting any more ideas from her crazy aunt."

Natsumi cackled. "You couldn't stop me if you tried! Unfortunately, I can't track anymore, so I have to have someone guide me to this here wagon train. I don't need all ten of you for that, though. Just one, and only for tracking, so I'll break your kneecaps and strap you to my back as a human compass if I have to."

"I'd go, willingly," Uncle Obito volunteered eagerly, before his wife kicked him in the shin again. "Ow."

"Assault, battery, and abduction of a Konoha citizen. You are an example to all fine, upstanding citizens. So how do you and what army intend to achieve this?" Fugaku demanded as Kagami palmed his face in exasperation.

Kagami sensed the shift in his clan – killing intent suddenly flared; Mikoto swore and stumbled backwards into him. Kagami turned back to Natsumi, and then dropped his hand down to Mikoto's shoulder to steady her as his Sharingan reactivated. They were surrounded by eyes that burned like embers in the darkness. Lots of eyes. Hundreds. One such pair of eyes stalked forward and emerged like a blot of shadows from the darkness. Flames sizzled at the paws and embers floated off the nearly-invisible body. The entire form flickered like heat waves rising from the desert's floor. Natsumi affectionately traced the head of the shadow-creature, red flaring beneath her hands like hot coals fanned under a wash of fresh air. She grinned.

"This army," she whispered. "I walked through hell to obtain the gouka inugami summon some fifteen years ago – literally. And it damn near killed me. In fact, it forced me into an early retirement. The only downside is that the gouka inugami only track a person whose blood you give them, and they track to kill. I can't exactly use them to hunt down the very person I want back, alive."

It seemed very apropos that a woman who had been known as the Hell Hound would go and get herself a summon of the very same. And was Kagami really, truly, surprised?

Eh, not really. This was exactly the kind of Inuzuka shenanigans he had to deal with when he was a teenager, and now it was time to pass the torch onto someone else. Like his future son-in-law, for example. It wasn't like he had any personal or professional distaste against Fugaku, as a man or as an Uchiha, or even as a distant cousin. It was simply that no one would ever be good enough for Kagami's darling daughter.

No one.

Kagami turned back to Fugaku. Kagami didn't have the strength to forbid Natsumi's leave from Konoha – not even with nine Uchiha backing him up. It was much wiser to simply point Natsumi at their enemies and let her wipe them out before they got to Konoha. "Well, there you have it. An entire army of cursed hell hounds, including its general. Sounds to me like a deal too good to pass up, especially if we situate them between us and the enemies."

Fugaku's face was pale. He nodded in agreement with a jerk of his head, although it might've also been a muscle spasm in his neck.

Kagami didn't even look behind as he took the lead, signaling to everyone that it was time to move. And because his future son-in-law was going to inherit leadership of the Uchiha clan, he felt it only fair to warn Fugaku. "Oh, and try not to challenge her anymore like that, Fugaku. The only man who's ever been alpha enough to take on Natsumi was Senju Tobirama."

oOoOoOo

The wagons had been circled into a tight spiral, with the worst of the wounded in the very center by the time Tsume and her companions returned. Armed samurai ringed the perimeters in their guard formation. Mifune had made the executive decision that the wagon train would await the arrival of their Konoha reinforcements. Kurama Tsubaki, who had grown so weak during the war that she couldn't sit upright and thus had to be carried on a pallet to the center of the wagon train's spiral, wove an elaborate genjutsu around the perimeters of the camp that hid them from view and would give outsiders who wander too close a sense of boredom that discouraged further investigation. Sakumo used a complicated doton jutsu after being taught by Danzo to obliterate the wagon train's trail for the last three kilometers (he had to rest twice and use chakra pills in order to cover the distance), and then raised a large stone barrier within the Kurama genjustu to surround the camp. Samurai and ninja were stationed at the top of stone barrier, armed and ready to kill anyone who would attempt to climb it if they managed to break through the Kurama genjutsu.

"Ummm, I can explain," Tsume told Kushina and Kokoro the moment that Sakumo more-or-less dumped her inside their shared wagon, and then left to discuss things with Danzo. Tsume was grateful that Sakumo wasn't going to talk to her just yet, not when she was still horrendously embarrassed that he had seen everything.

"You look like you got drop-kicked off a cliff," Kokoro declared uncharitably.

"It was more of an explosion than a drop-kick," Tsume muttered, wanting to find a deep hole to crawl into and sleep forever. "But, like I said, I can explain." As least she wasn't hurting too badly. One of the wounded shinobi who had seen them return, a man who had burns covering 40% of his body, had taken such pity upon her injuries that he had graciously donated some of his own morphine, which Kyou approved but only allowed Tsume a half-dose. Tsume actually felt rather giddy, all things considering. She was also really dizzy and half-nauseous, but she was willing to blame that on blood loss.

Kushina and Kokoro stared with wide eyes. "Can you, now?" Kokoro finally said as she cocked one eyebrow upward. Kokoro was propped upright against burlap bags of horse grain, so she could fold her legs at the knees and not fall over. Their wagon was doing double duty, hauling the grain and the girls. Tsume still wore Sakumo's shirt, stained with her blood, and the med nin hadn't wasted any chakra to heal the lurid bruises covering her face, the hand-shaped bruises on her neck, or the bite marks. Although, priorities being what they were, Tsume's nose had been thoroughly healed.

Kushina slowly nodded her head. "Yes. Do tell. And make it good, because you've got a lot to explain for this." She withdrew Tsume's bloody forehead protector from her pocket. Her knuckles were white as she clenched the metal. "Because after you're done explaining, we have some explanations to give you."

Tsume's mind went immediately to her worst worry. They were kicking her off the team! Wait – could they do that without Sakumo's permission? She was always understood that the teams were more like a benevolent dictatorship, and not a democracy where teammates could vote. Tsume shifted her weight amidst the four ninken that piled around her, all unwilling to leave her alone – not that she could blame them. She felt slightly better with the solid mass of Ichi separating her from Kokoro and Kushina as her friends simmered in anger, grief, and jealousy.

The truth was, she couldn't explain it all. Events were still too tightly wrapped up in that S-class Black Ops Danzo pulled her from, which meant that she would have to be vague and evasive, and that just wasn't going to go over well with Kokoro.

Kokoro's smell was the most open and welcoming than it had been since they met in the main camp, but that didn't say much. Still, Tsume couldn't lose this opportunity. She was tired of Kokoro's cold shoulder, of Kushina having to balance the two friends without offending either. Tsume didn't want to be stuck on a team where one friend was more of an enemy and the other friend was a long-suffering middleman. If Tsume played her hand just right… she'd have to be very ninja about this. Think of it as another undercover assignment. "I could smell them coming," she began. "There were forty-two of them, and not all the scents were unfamiliar to me. I told Danzo, and he pinpointed their location, but they were traveling underground to the wagon train. Danzo said that they had to be stopped."

Tsume rubbed her cast. The lacerations – old and new – in her left arm would need to be stitched again once the camp was settled, but no one had done anything about her right arm – it was already in a cast, the broken bones hadn't shifted out of place and it wasn't worse for wear. She still had horrible muscle spasms that worsened whenever she tried to send her own healing chakra through it, and her scalp ached like a solid throb, and so did her throat and pelvis. "He told me to go back to the train and get Sakumo. He told me to stay out of the fighting."

"Well," said Kokoro lightly, "that was Danzo's first mistake, to order you around like a dog."

Tsume figured that was sarcasm. She hoped it was sarcasm. It was hard to tell when her head felt kinda fuzzy. Shame that she had been anemic even before the wagon train left for Konoha. "I started to, really, but then I realized I was leaving my comrade behind. Grandmother's ninken are experienced and battle-hardened, and Danzo was going up alone against forty-two Iwa nin! He really needed their assistance! And, naturally, I have to go where Ichi goes."

"You're just a genin," Kushina said, patient but rebuking. "And your arms aren't in any shape for fighting. I know you can't be scared like the rest of us, but it's hard to fight the enemy when you're also trying to protect your weaker companions."

Her stomach suddenly sinking, Tsume wondered if that was what Kushina and Minato had secretly thought when she had to be carted around because of her chakra exhaustion. Or how Kushina and Kokoro in general felt about Tsume. "You girls don't understand." She was miserable and now her head was hurting from thinking too hard. "Danzo rescued me. He rescued me from the very same Iwa nin that he was going up against and I… I couldn't repay that by just abandoning him."

"Sakumo-sensei and the others were able to get there in time," Kokoro replied, her face set. "I heard one of the samurai say that we didn't suffer any losses on our side, and that Danzo was the only one who was severely injured."

"That's not true. Danzo told me that he would've been killed if I hadn't shown up."

"Danzo will just tell you anything to make you feel better."

Kushina shook her head. "No, Kokoro-chan. Danzo-sensei is rough and mean, and he doesn't tell anyone false platitudes to make them feel better. Not even to Tsume-chan. Trust me on this – I know." She looked very sadly at Tsume. "He tried to be nice to me, back at the cave after you had passed out with that spine in your hand, and he wasn't very good at it."

Tsume shifted her feet from under Ichi. They were beginning to get really warm. She still had dried blood on her toes. Where could a girl get a shower around here? "Well, I did try to write help on the metal plate, but it wasn't readable. I thought that maybe adding more blood would make Sakumo react faster."

Kokoro slapped the palms of her hands against the wooden slates of the wagon floor. "It was drenched, Tsume!" She ignored Ichi's snarling growl as he raised his head. And really, she didn't bleed on the forehead protector nearly as much as Daisuke had made her bleed. "We figured you'd only give up your sister's protector if you were dead! How could you do that? Never mind – I know how you can do that. You were being impulsive again. You weren't thinking – you never think. Not about yourself, and especially not about others."

Tsume picked at her toenails, flaking off the blood. It belonged to Daisuke. Well, most of it did. Some of it was also hers... Okay, a lot of the blood was also hers. Maybe it was a fifty-fifty mix. She scrubbed her toes with the hanging hem of Oyubi's pants leg. "I just wanted to help," she said miserably.

Kushina flailed her arms. "That's enough! Kokoro, we agreed that Tsume had to explain herself, but she can't when you keep interrupting. Tsume, why does Ichi keep growling at us?"

Tsume patted Ichi's head, trying to exude calm for the dogs. She subtly pressed her hand against her chest – her heart pounding, but it wasn't because she was scared. "It's okay," she told him, "Kokoro-chan isn't that horrible man."

Kushina eyed Ichi. "What horrible man?" Her expression morphed into horror then, and the scent of fear spiked. "Wait – you said earlier that not all the scents were unfamiliar, and that… and that Danzo-sensei had rescued you from the same men he was going after." Kushina burst into tears. "Oh, Tsume, how could you go back to them?"

Kokoro's eyes darted between Tsume and Kushina. "Is this about the thing that you wouldn't tell me because Tsume had to be the one to say tell me?"

Tsume picked at Ni's tail as her heart sunk further down – Kushina knew. Tsume didn't know how, so Danzo must've said something back at the cave. She hurried to speak, trying to distract her own thoughts and Kushina. "The ninken are made for war, just like Juubi. So I sent Shi off with my message, I armed the rest of us with blast tags, and we went after Danzo. Ichi was actually really good at dodging the enemies. We ambushed the Iwa nin before they knew we were there. Danzo was wounded, and there was a nin who had lots of doton jutsu. He…" She inspected Shi's paws; they were bloody and bruised. Poor Shi, he had run so far and so hard to get help just like her alpha had ordered. "Ichi and I got knocked into a ravine, separated from Danzo. The nin with the doton jutsu, Danzo said he was the leader. He followed us down."

Both of her friends were quiet, waiting for Tsume to continue. Tsume tried ignoring their scents, which told her more than what their faces could. She picked the burrs out of Shi's fur. "Sakumo-sensei killed him though," she said finally, trying very hard not to remember the shattered look on Sakumo's face when she gave him the explosive tags, "and that was the end of the fighting."

"What happened," Kokoro asked, "between the man following you down into the ravine, and Sakumo-sensei killing him?"

Tsume tugged at Ni's fur, trying to break off the dirty clumps. It looked like blood was making the clumps stick. "Nothing new. Nothing I couldn't handle – I wouldn't be alive right now if I couldn't. Why do you have to have all the details?" Tsume was embarrassed about telling them how she had planned a suicide explosion with her blast tags. She didn't want to see Sakumo's expression on their faces either.

She never wanted to see that expression again.

Why was it so easy to remember what horrified her, and yet so hard to remember the sound of Hidarime's laughter? It wasn't fair!

Kokoro tightened her hands into fists. "Tsume, you didn't tell me the truth the last time. It's one thing to say sorry, that information is classified, because I can respect that as one Konoha kunoichi to another. It's another to flat-out lie to me. If you aren't truthful this time, it's over between us. I mean it. I can't deal with my disability and try to manage yours at the same time."

That wasn't fair either. Tsume dealt just fine with her brain injury without any help from anyone! Tsume hunched as she looked at Kokoro, whose lips were pressed together in a determined line. Then she looked at Kushina, whose face was wet and blotchy already. She tried to ignore the anger simmering just below the surface – an anger that never went away after she confronted Grandmother; an anger that slowly grew, like a cancer spreading through her body.

She chose this. In the end, when it came down to the shallow grave that Grandmother had promised her, and the life of brutality that Orochimaru warned her about, Tsume ultimately chose the life of brutality. Even if she didn't know what exactly the brutality meant, it had still been her choice. By now, though, she wondered if maybe the shallow grave wasn't such a bad offer. Especially since she was pretty sure she could dig her way out of a shallow grave.

"Remember when I wrote you those letters, about how I was going off on a mission for Grandmother?"

"Yes. Are you trying to change the subject, or trying to talk to me this time?"

Tsume stiffly traced the grains in the floorboards with the nails of her left fingers. She couldn't be a lonely spook, like Danzo described. She was an Inuzuka – companionship was her lifeblood. She needed Kokoro and Kushina, because they were her friends. Kokoro and Kushina were hers. Also, her nose told her that no one was in listening range, so she could technically get away with this. "I can't tell you why it happened or who made it happen, or what I was supposed to do, and you both never heard anything, especially from me, because it never happened. Remember: plausible deniability!" If Danzo ever found out, she'd just tell him it was the morphine. Her head was buzzing delightfully at the same level it throbbed, and her heart raced in her chest like she had seven cups of coffee. She could definitely, honestly, and absolutely say that she wasn't in the best state to maintain secrecy, especially when it came to the peer pressure of her two best friends.

Kokoro grunted and crossed her arms. "Okay. So what is this absolutely nothing that never happened that you wouldn't ever tell us, and therefore we never heard and will deny to the end of our days?"

"Grandmother sold me to a brothel near Iwa four months ago for a thousand ryou."

The silence was deafening.

Not nearly as deafening as Kushina's shriek of outrage when she managed to catch her breath. "I'LL KILL HER!"

"She's already dead," Kokoro said, stuffing a finger in her ear and turning away with a wince.

"I'LL BRING HER BACK SOMEHOW AND KILL HER AGAIN!"

Tsume hunched with the ninken. "Ow. My ears."

Kushina crawled over Ichi and threw her arms around Tsume. Red hair curtained Tsume's vision. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again! I mean it – Kokoro, where did I put those ropes?"

"Like I said," Tsume said, trying to ignore the fresh waves of pain from Kushina clutching her arms, "nothing new happened between Daisuke and me in the ravine. He recognized me from the brothel – he paid really good money to win my auction – and, well, it didn't hurt as much as the last times. And Sakumo killed him too, so all's well that ends well." She tried smiling, just in case Kokoro could see.

Kushina sobbed into the nape of Tsume's neck. Tsume concentrated on Kokoro's scent since she still couldn't see through Kushina's hair.

"For you? I suppose it would end well. Rape is about power, about preying on another person's vulnerability and forcing fear into them." Kokoro stank of bitterness. "Tsume doesn't know what fear is. She doesn't know what it's like to be paralyzed with uncertainty and terror, of being encumbered by a reality where nightmares are real. Tsume is invulnerable. No man, no creature, no god is ever going to have that level of power over her, so yeah, I suppose that all's well that ends well."

Tsume considered her next words very carefully. "Are you disappointed that the bloody forehead protector was just a false alarm?"

That shifted Kokoro's scent just as Kushina jerked away from Tsume. "How can you say that?" Kushina demanded, looming in Tsume's vision. "Kokoro-chan kept crying, and said that she'd give anything to have you back!"

"How am I supposed to know that?" Tsume demanded. "Kokoro smells like she hates me!"

"I don't—! I…" Kokoro's bottom lip trembled, and she raised her chin defiantly. "I do hate you, actually. But I hate everyone right now. I hate not being able to move. I hate being trapped in one spot. I hate having to rely on other people. I hate wearing diapers and I hate needing someone help me change them. I hate that everyone was focused on bringing Kushina back, and wouldn't tell me anything when I was stuck to a cot next to your grandmother for a week!"

Oh, that was mean. Tsume would've considered that a punishment reserved only for traitors, being stuck for a week with a cranky, wounded, bitter Grandmother, with no way to escape. She'd hate everyone and everything too, even without the right brain parts to hate!

Kokoro rubbed at her eyes just as she started crying. "And… I hate that as soon as you and Kushina came back, all anyone did was talk about you and Kushina, just like I knew they would, and I was left by myself, in that bed, completely unable to do anything still, and I was getting left behind just like I knew I would be. I'm sorry, Tsume, but right now, I hate everyone! I even… I even hate myself."

Kushina whimpered. "Oh, why didn't you ever tell us?" She scrambled over Ichi to hug Kokoro. "I'd probably feel the same way as you!"

Ichi, with the air of someone who was tired but resigned to being trampled, moaned as he scooted out of the way so Tsume could follow Kushina's example. Tsume couldn't wrap her right arm around Kokoro as she sat on the opposite side from Kushina, but she leaned over and rested her head against Kokoro's shoulder. Tsume wondered about hatred and fear, and thought about the void that Orochimaru had warned her about. "Danzo once told me that people hate what they fear." Danzo's words always seemed easier to remember than other people's. "I… I think, Kokoro, that you don't really hate anyone. I think you're just awfully scared."

"I know," Kokoro said, choking and rubbing her watery eyes. "I am scared. I'm scared because I can't keep up with either of you anymore, and you'll just leave me behind, and you're my only friends in the world."

Tsume knew the heartache of loneliness. And she figured that this was just as good a time as any to enter the next phase of the newly-named Operation Legs. "Can you still use chakra in your feet?"

Kokoro sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. "Yeah. It's the only way I can even feel my feet in the first place. Otherwise it's like there's nothing past my waist."

"Oh, good. Because I inherited four ninken, see, but I still have Kuromaru back at home, so I figured that maybe you wouldn't mind if I gave you San." When Kokoro's scent shifted from bitterness to curiosity, Tsume began happily babbling. "See, I thought maybe you could steer yourself around in a wheelchair with chakra strings like a Suna puppeteer, but Kushina said the wheelchair would get stuck in the trees. So I figured, hey, the ninken can go wherever any of us can go, and – as I just readily demonstrated today – they can fight and help keep you mobile and safe in a battle. And it was so cool, because first Ichi was dashing here, and then he was snarling at an enemy while I was dropping blast tags there, and then we were sliding under Juubi's belly. It's like being a samurai on a horse, except you'd be a kunoichi on a ninken. This could really work for you, Kokoro!"

The curiosity was bubbling with happiness. Tsume giggled and buried her nose against Kokoro's shoulder. She wasn't going to ask Kokoro about the genjutsu of Orochimaru; she'd just forget about it instead. It shouldn't be hard – she had forgotten far worse in her life already. She'd forgotten better things, too. As long as she had the love and support of her friend, she would forget about the flaws. Forgiveness came very easily if you couldn't remember why you needed to forgive.

"It'll be a lot of work," Kokoro said softly, trying to keep her voice even and hesitant. "I'm not an Inuzuka, so I can't speak their language."

"I promise to train you! And I bet Sakumo-sensei will also help. He'd probably help a lot more than me, because he's a jounin who's supposed to be a teacher, right? I'll go ask him right now!"

And then Tsume darted out of the wagon, tripping over the wagon's tailgate and falling over the other side with a loud thud. "Ow!" She hadn't realized how unsteady on her feet the morphine made her.

Kushina peered over the tailgate as San and Shi crowded around her to also look down at their alpha mistress. They gave her hopeful tail wags. "Maybe we should get you all washed up and in clean clothes first, Tsume-chan. You might frighten the samurai." Tsume hurt too much to move though, as she focused on trying to breathe. There was only so much that the morphine could do.

oOoOoOo

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the clouds were just sparse enough to be delightful, the wind was gentle, and the temperature wasn't too cold, despite being winter. The rock that Fugaku shared with Mikoto was warm and flat enough to be comfortable, and if he timed it just right, he might be able to hold her hand. Ah, the glories and wonders of nature – hark, was that a robin, this late in the season? Well, they did like to winterize in Fire.

"hrk!"

No, not a robin. Perhaps a meadowlark? Which, apparently, happened to be a delicacy for gouka inugami. Alas, poor meadowlark, your cheerful birdsong will be missed.

"Idon'twannadieIdon'twannadieblrrrk!"

Fugaku glanced over at his companions. His two younger brothers, thirteen-year-old twins named Ringo and Daimaru (a rather unfortunate combination, but Father had been on a mission when Mother had to have an emergency C-section, so Fugaku suspected that the morphine following the surgery had a great deal of influence in her decision to forever compare the twins to apples and oranges), were still slowly eating their rations as they discussed the free entertainment.

"I think it's just a genjutsu," Ringo firmly told Daimaru.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"No way, they move way too naturally to be genjutsu."

"Mercy! Mercy!" Shhhhink.

"And just how do you know what they would look like when they're moving?"

"Because Shimura Akane showed me hers last week when I beat her in taijutsu."

"Ihavethreeyoungchildrenjghsjabg—"

"Dude. You got Akane to flash her tits at you? What were they like?"

"Aa. Let's just say she doesn't pad anything."

Okay, this was clearly a conversation Fugaku had best forget ever hearing, and the sooner, the better, especially when it involved Kagami's fifteen year old niece (by marriage). He turned his attention to Kagami, who was casually lounging face-up in the grass beside the rock, cloud watching with a stalk of wild oats stuck between his teeth. Yakumi, having firmly planted himself on the other side of the rock where he couldn't see anything, was redoing his topknot for the third time and muttering about how it was still crooked.

"Go back to the bowels of hell where you came from, you evil demon witch – glrrrbl—"

Obito, who graciously came out of retirement along with his wife, Nishi, on Kagami's request for this mission, was riffling through the Bingo Book. He muttered, "I knew he looked familiar," and crossed a picture out. He then pulled a storage scroll from his pocket, and laid it open on the ground. "Oi, Natsumi-san – toss me the head of the guy with the red bandana. Kiri will pay a hefty bounty on him, dead or alive."

"shitohshitfuck—" THUNK.

A decapitated head sailed through the air and bounced on the ground a few times, rolling until it came to a halt in the middle of the storage scroll.

Obito cackled. "That's the fourth bounty I've been able to collect in the last twelve hours. I love that woman." Then he doubled over in a painful hunch when Nishi whacked him with her cane.

The remaining Uchiha, Hayame and Kanzen, looked like they were catching a quick catnap in the shade of a leafless tree. A wise idea, Fugaku thought, as they had also been pulling twenty-four hour shifts with him the last three weeks, and this was a rare moment to catch up on delayed opportunities.

Which meant no one was paying any attention to Mikoto and Fugaku. Because of how thinly-stretched the Police currently were, with the war requiring more and more forces and the Hokage gone to the Capital, Fugaku had also been working back-to-back twenty-four hour shifts. Crime rates had increased among the civilians as the shinobi population became more sparse. Mikoto had been subbing at the Academy for first and second year students. They hadn't seen each other in weeks.

This was the perfect opportunity for one-on-one time with his betrothed. He slowly slid his hand across the rock surface to where Mikoto's graceful, long fingers rested, and lightly stroked the back of one knuckle.

Mikoto turned to him with her eyes shining in delight and color in her cheeks. "Fugaku-san," she breathed, leaning close to him.

"I give! I surrender! I – eeerk—"

"Yes, Mikoto-san?" It wasn't the most romantic setting, but death was an important part of life's natural cycle. People are born, and people will die – some even die peacefully in their sleep, which was a fate tragically denied to these poor misfortunate souls today. Fugaku felt that it was safe to think that there was a sense of poetry with their surroundings, however gory and gruesome it may be.

"She's awesome!" Mikoto whipped away so fast that her long braid of hair slapped his face. She squealed and bounced her feet against the rock as she watched the carnage. "Have you ever seen such power, such grace in another kunoichi before? I mean, I think of Tsunade-hime and I've seen her spar with Hokage-sama, and I heard stories of how Uzumaki Mito was a force to be reckoned with, too – but this? To watch the legendary Hell Hound herself is like a dream come true! Oh, it's magnificent!"

The tree that Natsumi ripped out of the ground to fling at an escaping shinobi was swung too wide. It sailed over their heads and crashed in the field behind the Uchiha. Hayame jerked awake from the vibrations of the newly-formed crater, sat upright to look around, and then flopped over to resume his nap. "Wake me up when she's done."

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Fugaku tried to see the magnificence and beauty that Mikoto did. Okay, so the gouka inugami looked quite ethereal as they darted through the brand new forest clearing – Fugaku wouldn't be an Uchiha if he couldn't appreciate the element of fire. And Inuzuka Natsumi's fighting form and styles were certainly, er, unique. When Senju Tsunade smashed something, she would gather the chakra in a specific area of her body and release it upon impact; such techniques required chakra control of the highest degree.

Natsumi just seemed to cloak and enhance her entire body with chakra, and then flared whatever limb she was using for an enhancement, no gathering needed. It was very effective in its simplicity… if you had a tremendous amount of chakra constantly at your disposal to waste. Her movements were also nearly impossible for the Sharingan to follow and predict, because Natsumi operated purely on instinct and didn't seem to know what she was doing until she was actually doing it. It was like watching a drunken tornado from the entirely unsafe and ill-advised distance of twenty meters.

Not that, uh, he had ever personally witnessed such. That would be foolish, and Uchiha are not foolish! (They are, however, prone to making poor gambling choices when not sober, and just proud enough to honor such choices. Which Fugaku didn't do. If there were no witnesses, it never happened.)

"Hah – wait, is that it?" Natsumi skidded to a stop and looked around. "I thought there were more." She shook a finger at the three inugami that circled her feet. "Hey, I told you guys to eat the dead bodies and save the living for me! I'm a bit rusty and I needed the practice."

Fugaku has a sneaking suspicion that seventy-some years spent in becoming the self-styled Queen of Summons was bound to do something to increase chakra stores to monstrous, tailed beast-like levels. Worse, he never suspected that the crabby, crazy old lady, who wore mismatched clothes and too much gaudy jewelry, who often required police escort home whenever she took a wrong turn and became hopelessly lost in the same village she had lived in for the last forty odd years, possessed such skills or bloodlust. He had thought that the stories of her legendary prowess were just the Inuzuka clan being braggarts who exaggerated everything.

He half-expected everyone to start talking about how Uchiha Madara did indeed drink the blood of his enemies because of how the Inuzuka clan had goaded him.

Natsumi stalked across the clearing, skipping past the craters and trenches, until she dropped her ax right beside Kagami's knee. The head sunk into the ground, and Kagami didn't even flinch. She stretched, which didn't flatter her chest. "Ah, that was a nice warm-up. Just enough to get the blood pumping and to get to know Amatsu all over again." She stroked the handle of her ax, and then nudged Kagami with her foot. "Oh, and by the way, you're correct. The bindings would make things more comfortable. I don't remember the tits flopping around this much."

Kagami sat upright and spat out the stem of his wild oats. "That's because you were a lot fuller back then." He groaned as he stood, his knees cracking and popping with every movement. He paused a moment to study Natsumi's chest. Fugaku admired his future father-in-law's audacity. Of course, Uncle Obito had also stared in the same open manner, and Natsumi had merely told Uncle Obito that he needed to come closer because old age probably deteriorated his vision. "Still don't see why you painted yourself like that. No one can now see your artwork beneath the blood of those poor, helpless enemy shinobi. What did they ever do to you besides wear the wrong headband?"

Natsumi snorted. "They dared to stand between me and my niece. And the world is better off without them anyway; they were pretty lousy shinobi. Practically dropped like flies. Anyone see where I ripped my bindings off?"

Fugaku had very much forgotten all about where Natsumi had ripped off her breast bindings, grateful that his Sharingan hadn't been on to forever capture that moment in his memory banks.

Fugaku could feel Mikoto vibrating with excitement beside him. "You took out twenty rogues all by yourself!" She bounced like a schoolgirl and clapped her hands. "That was the most amazing thing I ever saw!"

Natsumi folded her hands on top of the handle of her ax and nodded her head regally. "Thank you. Just a few techniques that my clan developed over the generations in order to safely fight against other enemy clans, such as the Hyuuga, the Nara… and the Uchiha," she added with a sly grin. "The Nara were the most influential in the formation of our acrobatic style, and the worst with their shadow techniques – that's why our style involves a great deal of leaps and aerial attacks. They had issues with us hunting their deer; we had issues with them keeping us from a viable food source." She sighed and leaned back, tilting her face to the sun. Her breathing was still even and unhurried. "But we never harbored any ill will between our clans. The Nara understand the ways of the animal kingdom's food chain better than most clans."

Mikoto leaned forward with her eyes shining. "And the ax? Amatsu? Is it a legendary weapon?"

"Nah. I just named it after the god of evil because I lost a bet with Hyuuga Nai, which also taught me never to play cards with them – the bastards all cheat with their fancy-pants eyes."

Mikoto twitched, as if she wanted to run her hands all over the bloody ax. "Was it a gift from the gods?"

Natsumi touched a finger to her chin as she frowned in thought. "Well, I did have to survive dismemberment and evisceration all thanks to some guy who wanted me to join Jashin in the Halls of Valhalla. Not sure if that counts, however. Oh, you brought me my bindings? Good boy! Good, good boy!" Natsumi rubbed the inugami's head before handing the bindings over to Mikoto for assistance. One of the stray sparks from her rubbing sizzled as it ate a hole through Fugaku's trouser and blistered his skin. He did his best not to wince. "Great thing about the ax is that you just aim and swing, none of that fancy nonsense like you have with swords. Don't know what the young people are thinking these days with all this flashy stuff-and-fluff." Natsumi had the audacity to look outraged with the thought of anyone being loud and showcasing brutal displays of strength and power. "That's just not ninja."

Pot, kettle wants to know why you keep calling it black.

"How old are you?" Mikoto asked suddenly as she secured the bindings in place. Then she hunched her shoulders and blushed. "I don't mean to be rude, Natsumi-san, but you are remarkable the way you are now. I wish I had seen you when you were younger."

Oh no.

Ooooooh nooooooooo. Of all the people his darling Mikoto had to develop a girl-crush on, why did it have to be Tsume's crazy, uncivilized barbarian of a geriatric nudist-aunt?

"Hah!" Natsumi slapped Kagami's shoulder and nearly sent him stumbling head over heels. "And who says the Uchiha don't recognize talent and skill when they see it? My darling, you are looking at the sum total of eighty-four… um, — five? -ish years of living and training, and the very best of my ancestors' breeding!" She posed, and then flexed her arms.

Fugaku wished he could sear out his eyeballs.

Kagami's face was white as he attempted to correct his newly-dislocated arm. "I've never denied that of you," he wheezed, before stumbling over to Fugaku and telling him to slip the arm back into its socket.

"You remind me a lot of Tsunade-hime," Mikoto said. "Both of you have similar massive strengths."

"Yes, well, Tsunade actually revised what I taught her to better suit her own talents. Sarutobi Hiruzen asked me personally to show her the ropes of the Wrath of the Beast style – she's actually taken it a lot further than I ever could. Which is what a kunoichi should do, Mikoto-chan: establish a superior baseline of skills and knowledge, and then build upon it to customize for your own talents." Natsumi sighed and ignored Kagami's grunt of pain as Fugaku reduced the joint. "I swore to myself years ago that I wouldn't interfere with the way my sister ran things so long as she lived, and there are those who have suffered for it. But that changes now since she'd dead." The smile that spread across her face made the hair on the back of Fugaku's arms stand on end. "You see, it has always been my dream to shape Tsume into a worthy heir for my ax."

Fugaku felt chills race up and down his spine at the thought of Tsume wedding her poor memory, impulsiveness, and utter lack of fear with Natsumi's bloodthirsty carnage and gouka inugami. And he was beginning to suspect that Tsume's lack of fear was more a matter of genetics than an actual brain injury. If Uchiha Madara really did do something to Tsume the way that Inuzuka Shinzou claimed, then no doubt Tsume did something to earn his ancestor's ire.

"I don't…" Mikoto pressed an uncertain finger to her lip. "I don't suppose you could possibly spare some time for another kunoichi?"

"Ha ha! I would love to teach you, my darling! Just so long as your father agrees to it." The air whistled as Natsumi swung her ax one-handed off the ground and pointed it at Kagami. His bangs flared from the air velocity as the ax came to hover just a few scant hairs from the tip of his nose. He merely arched one inquiring eyebrow at her. "After all, I wouldn't dream of doing anything he wouldn't approve for his daughter."

Kagami's expression was mild as he crossed his eyes to peer at the head of the ax. It was drenched in blood and brain matter. Then he gave Natsumi a placid smile and lightly tilted his head to the side. "It would be a great honor. If my daughter can survive training with you, then she will make a fine wife for the Uchiha clan head."

Translation: Fugaku, if you want to have a fiancée long enough to get married, keep her in one piece.

Translation of translation: Neener neener, fucker, you're stuck with the crazy, uncivilized barbarian of a geriatric nudist whether you like it or not, and I get to stay out of this one!

It was sometimes very hard to tell what Kagami really felt because he always seemed the perfect picture of serenity, but Fugaku had a hunch that his future father-in-law really and truly hated Fugaku with the passion of a thousand burning volcanoes.

Natsumi laughed and swung her ax back to rest across her shoulder. "Still as unflappable as always, Kagami." The crazed bloodlust and cynical cheer melted away. Grief crossed her face for a brief moment. "Tobirama would be so proud of you."

Kagami held her gaze for a moment, and then nodded his head in acceptance. "Thank you." He clapped his hands once, winced, and then gingerly rubbed his sore shoulder. "All right, everyone, back on your feet. Break time is over."

oOoOoOo

"Danzo, you cannot honestly think that I will accept this story about how Tsume had been captured by Iwa shinobi that you later just happened to rescue Tsume from. There's more here going on than just that."

Danzo lay on the wooden slats of the wagon he shared with Sakumo. His right leg was elevated and propped up on knapsacks filled with oats, and didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that said oats were probably lumpy and uncomfortable. "That's all I can tell you until after I speak with the Hokage." It was the third time Danzo had repeated himself.

Sakumo sat on a small, upside-down bucket used to feed the horses with, holding his head in his hands. "This isn't about you or the Hokage, though – or at least it shouldn't be. Tsume is my genin, my responsibility. How can I help her if I don't know what's wrong?"

"You already know what's wrong. Knowing how it went wrong won't change that."

Sakumo scrubbed his face. He felt fine, physically. No aches or pains, energy level still high, and chakra stores barely tapped

Mentally, he felt befuddled and lost, like he was trying to dig his way out of a mind-shattering S-rank genjutsu where reality had lost all reason.

Emotionally, his heart felt battered with bitterness, guilt, and despair. He didn't want to have this conversation with the man he considered his best friend (Sakumo had long admitted that he had lousy taste), but knew something had to be done. He had the daughter of his heart, who was notoriously incapable of fear, terrified of him in the ravine, and his best friend on the verge of self-destruction. The two were intertwined, and he knew he had to untangle them before either could heal.

"Well, since you aren't going to tell me what you know, I'll just tell you what I know, and maybe you can fill in the blanks, hmmm?"

Danzo's frown suggested that he felt like this was an unacceptable compromise.

Sakumo was beyond caring. "Over a year ago, I bought Tsume to Jiraiya and Orochimaru, just as Jiraiya requested, because Jiraiya had a bloody sleeve from which he needed to obtain more information other than who bled all over it. Tsume was the only Inuzuka possible of doing such a thing – others had tried and failed. Jiraiya was impressed, and so was Orochimaru."

"You told me this when you returned to Wind."

"What I didn't tell you is that Orochimaru asked Tsume to fetch Yamanaka Yuu."

"Ah. I wondered why he was assisting her with memorizing the Fifty Shinobi Rules that she kept complaining about in her letters to you."

"What else was he supposed to help her memorize?" The silence stretched on. Danzo stared unblinking at the ceiling. Sakumo steepled his fingers and leaned forward. "Danzo, if I were to go right now and sign to Tsume in the incredibly difficult-to-memorize – and virtually impossible for people with short term memory issues – highly secretive hand language of ANBU, would she fluently sign back to me?"

Danzo's hands twitched.

Sakumo's temper flared. "I thought so. She wasn't even out of the damn Academy yet, and you people were already grooming her!"

Danzo winced.

Sakumo scrubbed his face and took a deep breath. "Danzo, this is a young, inexperienced girl with a brain injury that affects her basic day-to-day decision making functions. It skews her sense of danger – which probably only exists in the first place as part and parcel of the Inuzuka animal instincts unique to the clan and its unclaimed sons – so she can't be trusted to make decisions that keep her safe." He tapped one hand against the other. "And I can see that someone deliberately took advantage of such."

Danzo flopped one arm across his face, effectively shielding his gaze. Sakumo heard the echoed whispers of agony, of darkness rending a soul. Sakumo deliberately lit another candle just to bring more light into the wagon, and set it closer to Danzo, right beside the only other candle.

"Don't. You know I prefer the darkness."

"Bad things happen in the dark, Danzo. Problem is, they have this habit of coming into light. With shinobi, it's all about timing such an entrance to our advantage. Just as I'm sure that Orochimaru and Shinzou timed it." Tension tightened Danzo's shoulders. "The only reason Tsume would have to learn the ANBU sign language is because she was being pulled into a Black Ops – no less than A rank. Because of her age and rank as genin, Shinzou would've had to give guardian's permission. Of the people with authority to run a Black Ops, only you and Orochimaru would pull this kind of stunt with a naïve, inexperienced twelve year old."

"No." Darkness (guilt, shame) coiled about the heart like a python tightening its hold on its chosen kill. (Twelve years old…)

Sakumo waited for Danzo to say more, but the one-word denial was followed only by the echoes of Danzo's heart.

"Playing hardball with me? That's fine, my friend. But even though I know you would stoop to this level, I also know that it was Orochimaru's operation, because your involvement with Tsume didn't start until after Orochimaru summoned you from Wind. I reviewed the timeline with Kushina this morning, just to make sure that all my ducks were in a row. Tsume left on a mission with Shinzou the night before she was due to graduate from the Academy. Two weeks after that, Shinzou submitted a KIA for Tsume. Three months later, you get summoned from Wind, and lo and behold, two weeks after that, Tsume comes back to me alive, accompanied by the very man that Orochimaru read into the Black Ops that involved Tsume. Am I missing anything in the time line, so far?"

Danzo was gritting his teeth so hard that Sakumo marveled that he didn't chip a tooth. Danzo's heart gave a keening wail. (Blood on thighs. Fucking twelve years old!)

"Here's the first of what I want to know, Danzo." Sakumo's killing intent simmered as his voice dropped into a whisper – he made sure to keep the killing intent on a tight leash, lest a passing ninja or samurai interrupt to investigate. "Did Konoha deliberately abandon her twelve year old brain-injured genin with no sense of fear in the middle of enemy territory for three months between Shinzou's separation, and your involvement?"

Danzo pulled his leg off the pile and rolled upright. He grunted as he forced his wounded leg to cross over the other, and then hunched. "Whatever comes to light here must forever remain in the darkness, Sakumo. Some things are not meant to be brought to light. You are not a creature of darkness; this is not meant for you."

Sakumo leaned forward and matched his gaze. "Neither is Tsume. But I'll join her in that darkness without hesitation, because no one should ever have to deal with this alone. I am shinobi. I do not fear the darkness." When Danzo said nothing, Sakumo folded his hands as if in prayer and bowed his head. "Please. I can't patch up her heart when I don't know where the bleeding is coming from."

Danzo sighed. "Minimal information only. I will not answer any questions you may have concerning events until after I've reported to the Hokage."

Sakumo's head snapped upright. "I'll take it. It'll at least buy me some time to work with Tsume between here and Konoha." He had hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with what Tsume had lived through until they had reached the safe haven of Konoha, but Daisuke's cruel work was forcing Sakumo's hand early.

"Good. Now hand me your chakra saber, all your kunai, the emergency senbon that you keep in your belt, and then cuff yourself to the support pole. I've got chakra-suppressing handcuffs in my knapsack over there."

Sakumo froze, and then wrapped both hands protectively around the hilt of his saber. "What? Why?"

"No, I'm not answering any of your questions. That's the price you must pay if you want the low-down on a Black Ops in which I've only been peripherally read into."

Sakumo reluctantly obeyed, his hands shaking with undisguised anxiety as he carefully divested himself of all the weaponry as Danzo demanded. Good thing Danzo didn't know anything about the projectile marbles he hid in the soles of his jounin sandals.

As Sakumo snapped a cuff shut on one wrist, Danzo said, "Behind your back."

"Nothing doing, Captain. If something happens and you fall over dead from a sudden heart attack, I want to at least be able to pick the lock and open the cuffs before hell freezes over."

Danzo considered Sakumo for a moment over the large pile of weaponry that used to be thoroughly hidden on Sakumo's person. "Fine."

Sakumo sat on the other side of the pole that supported the overhead cloth canopy, scooted close to wrap his arms around it, and then locked the other cuff in place. He felt an oddness buzz through his body. His arms weighed heavily, and suddenly he felt very tired. He rested his forehead against the pole for a moment, and then glared around it at Danzo. "This better not be a trick. I'll be seriously peeved if you are playing with me, and you know what that means."

"Yes, yes. You being seriously peeved is why Chiyo-san has such a high bounty on your head that you'll never be allowed to set foot in Wind without initiating an international debacle, especially after those polite requests you wrote her requesting ownership of the battle puppets. I still can't believe that you managed to send three of them off to Tsume and Kakashi without security flagging them." Danzo straightened upward, rolling his eye to the ceiling as if consulting some distant sky deity. "I knew nothing when Orochimaru summoned me to Grass. He only read me in peripherally upon my arrival; he told me where to meet his mole, how to obtain the Intel, and then to immediately bring the Intel back to him. The mole was to stay. He said that the mole was stationed in an ideal location, and would be able to continue gathering Intel in Iwa for many years to come. He wouldn't give me the name, Sakumo."

"He deliberately sent you in blind? And you accepted it?"

"I told you, no questions. But yes, he sent me in blind, and yes, I accepted it. Shinobi are to obey the orders given by their superior, and Orochimaru was mine in this situation. He trusted that I didn't require guidance, and I trusted that I wouldn't be set up for failure. It took a week to travel from Grass to Earth, and I saw Tsume the first day I arrived. She was feeding stray dogs."

Sakumo grinned. "That's my girl. Tsume wouldn't be Tsume if she didn't have her dogs. Did she look okay?"

Danzo stared at him with a heavy-lidded eye, and murmured, "She looked like the most desirable object in the world."

Sakumo couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or not, especially when the look in Danzo's eye made the hair on the back of his arms stand on end in warning. "Yeah, but I asked if she looked okay. Like, was she well-fed herself? Was she getting enough sleep? Did she recently experience torture on the rack?"

"I got in, met with her, got the Intel, and left. And I did a lot of thinking after I left, about what Konoha really meant, and what I really believed in."

"You're, uh, not the type to do any deep soul-searching, Captain. Was she living on the street there like some kind of urchin, sniffing out clues on the Iwa shinobi as they passed through?" Sakumo heard the barbs tightening around Danzo's heart, lancing deep. He remembered Tsume's inadvertent admission. "No, because you got in, and then you got out. Where was she situated?"

"Minimal information only, Sakumo. No questions."

Sakumo rattled the chain links of his cuffs. "Damn it, Danzo! Give me something I can work with for Tsume's sake!"

Danzo slowly shook his head. "Tsume knew what she was getting into, and she accepted it. You dishonor and dismiss her talents by continuing to think you can shelter a kunoichi from the world. She refuses to let herself be limited by her brain injury, and yet you would shackle her to it."

Sakumo snapped his eyes shut. The soul-searing humiliation that was wrapped around Danzo's heart was growing with every deflection. "You were willing to leave her behind, just like Orochimaru intended. But you changed your mind." His eyes opened. Danzo was staring at the candle that Sakumo had lit; Danzo was the sort that you had to drag kicking and screaming into the light – Sakumo didn't like to be blunt, but sometimes a sledgehammer blow was more accurate than the stab of a kunai for someone as stubborn as Danzo. "Did you rape Tsume before or after you got out?"

Danzo's head jerked as if he'd been struck across the face. His right hand curled into a white-knuckled fist. "Both." The shrill heart-screams were like nails on a blackboard. (Twelve years old – TWELVE FUCKING YEARS OLD.) The moment passed as Sakumo realized that he probably shouldn't have left his kunai so close to Danzo's reach. "Well, you have to work with her," Danzo's voice was thick, "so I suppose it's only fair for you to know about the seal that Orochimaru transferred onto Tsume – which Orochimaru didn't give me any more information on than he did of the mole's identity – and that Jiraiya and I together couldn't remove. And we both tried. The best Jiraiya could do was mute it, and not very well, if today was any indication."

Danzo certainly knew how to parry and thrust. Sakumo forced himself not to remember that moment at the bottom of the ravine, the realization of a nightmare he couldn't wish on anyone. He dropped his forehead against the pole as his eyes stung and his vision blurred. "The siren seal, designed to attract the attention of men. I've heard of them being used on kunoichi who specialize in seduction and infiltration."

"This is just a siren seal like the Hokage is just another shinobi."

"Just tell me straight, Danzo. How bad is this thing?"

"Bad. The more you struggle against it, the deeper it sinks its claws."

"You gave in."

Danzo turned his face away – away from Sakumo, away from the candles. Turned to the shadows that the candlelight emphasized. "As I told Jiraiya, may the gods have mercy on the tattered remains of my soul, yes. You know me though. You know I cannot tolerate the loss of control."

Ah yes, Sakumo knew Danzo. All too well did Sakumo know the shadowy mists of deceit, the cold frost of ruthlessness, and the unrelenting poison of malice slowly creeping through the maze, crawling closer and closer to Danzo's heart. Danzo could justify any means to the end when it meant the survival and well-being of Konohagakure.

"Furthermore," Danzo pinched the candle flames out and plunged the wagon interior into muddled darkness, "the seal was active even before Shinzou sold her to the brothel."

Sakumo rubbed his wet cheek against his shaking shoulder. "Would the Hokage have known?"

"I had orders to leave the mole there, Sakumo. Orders that could only be given with the Hokage's approval. I don't… I don't know what Hiruzen was thinking – I usually make the dirty decisions for him because he's notoriously too soft-hearted and merciful. I like to think I wouldn't make the same choice, but I wonder… would I, if Tsume was nothing more than just another face without meaning? Perhaps. But Hiruzen cherishes every person in the village. How could he do this?" (Searing resentment and confusion.) Sarutobi Hiruzen and Uchiha Kagami were the only persons Sakumo had seen Danzo give any friendly regard. Everyone else, including Sakumo, the remaining Shimura clan, and the other two living teammates from Team Tobirama, were kept at a cold, albeit neutral, distance.

"War forces us to be the worst versions of ourselves."

"Tsume did obtain the Intel that we desperately needed to end this war – she didn't ask questions and she didn't go snooping because all she had to do was smell the men who used her. Tsume was never meant to leave the brothel."

Brothel. Sakumo's heart shrank even more to realize what life must've been like for three months with a siren seal hopped up on soldier pills and steroids. And Danzo, an unbending man who followed the rules to the hilt, broke rank and custom to remove Tsume. (Sakumo wouldn't consider Danzo touching Tsume - wouldn't consider Danzo's face on the man in the ravine, with Tsume trapped beneath him and covered in her own blood. Not here; not now.)

Danzo's voice sounded distant, as if it came from a long tunnel. "Damn it. This isn't minimal information. How do you always get me to say more than I intend to?"

In the silence that dragged, Sakumo chuckled. "You broke the rules, Captain. You interfered knowingly and maliciously in a Black Ops that wasn't your own. You became emotionally involved and probably irrational." He waited until Danzo growled with irritation, and poured his heart and soul into his next words. "Thank you."

"Rules?" A scoffing laugh. "Yes, rules are important for the function of a healthy society. A place for everything, and everything in its place. But Konohagakure has always been more than the rules. I will bend, break, and change any rule that stands between Konoha and her survival. Many forget that the Will of Fire burns, and like any other destructive force, it consumes, and it destroys whatever it consumes. Something has to be sacrificed to the flames. We all have to pay the price, to give the sacrifice. Before this mission, Konoha was like a great tree to me – the leaves reach for the sun, but the roots burrow deep in the earth, the darkness, to support and feed the tree. Without the roots, the leaves wither and die."

"But after the mission?" Sakumo whispered. He closed his eyes, willing to stay in the dark. Danzo was right – some things aren't meant to come to light.

"What is Konoha if it willingly sells a twelve year old girl with an overpowered siren seal to a brothel frequented by brutal shinobi?" Sakumo rubbed his cheek against his shoulder again. And then repeated with the other cheek. There was a rustle as Danzo shifted. "That is not a Konoha I could live with – it's not the Konoha that Senju Tobirama died for – so I took Tsume with me, for I will do anything to protect Konoha… even if Konoha must be protected from herself."

Sakumo laughed despite his tears. He knew everything was going to be all right now. "No, you're wrong, Captain. Tsume is Konoha. Konoha is a twelve year old genin – fearless, impulsive, well-meaning, and good-natured, utterly incapable of hatred. Konoha flourishes even despite the severe and harsh trials of life, and she's always looking out for everyone – the vulnerable, and the stubborn who think they're invincible. Konoha is people, and we mustn't forget the people. You have, but now you see that Tsume is Konoha, and Konoha is Tsume. We should all strive to be more like Konoha."

Danzo sighed in exasperation, and the whispers of agony slowly released their claws from his heart. "Sadly, that just made me realize just how much of Konoha is like an overemotional, self-sacrificing, irrational creature who doesn't have the best memory, constantly fails to learn from her mistakes, and is always, always going to find another ingenious way of getting into trouble."

"My dad once told me that it takes a village to raise a child. I think it's also fair to say that sometimes it takes a child to raise a village." Sakumo silently slipped the cuffs off as Danzo grumbled.

"That makes no sense."

"It does to me. All of it. Thank you, Danzo." Sakumo relit the candles, bringing them both back into the light. He blinked. "How did you get to the other end of the wagon behind the grain sacks with your hamstring severed?" He studied the undisturbed pile of weapons. "And where's my chakra saber?"

Danzo looked shifty-eyed. "It's collateral. Why did you uncuff yourself?"

"Because you've given me all the information I needed to know about what happened with Tsume. I know what I'm working with. One last thing, though." Sakumo began replacing his weaponry in his pockets and belt. They weren't his saber and they wouldn't be able to channel his lightning chakra without melting in his hands, but they were still sharp and pointy. "The seal. You and Jiraiya couldn't remove it, but I haven't sensed anything on Tsume. Is it something she can flip on or off?"

Danzo's eye narrowed. "That is a very good question for which I would also love an answer. The seal has a suicide stop that prevents it from ever being removed or switched off completely. I had been under the apparently misguided assumption from Jiraiya that he had permanently muted the seal as a way around the stop. One theory I have is that Tsume thought the seal unmuted somehow because she knows that it drives men into a frenzied lust, which would otherwise justify in her simple mind why Daisuke decided to rape her."

"That would explain why she seemed terrified that I was there. Probably thought I'd be snared by the seal, too." Sakumo placed the handcuffs back into Danzo's knapsack, where everything was frightfully organized and labeled. Apparently, the rules for everything being in its proper place extended even to Danzo's shaving kit.

"I don't buy it, though. She stuffed enough blast tags in her cast that we wouldn't be able to scrape off enough of her remains from the ravine walls for a funeral. Which highlights the other possibility – Tsume somehow knew that she could unmute the seal, and used it to her advantage. Daisuke was stronger, older, more skilled, and much more ruthless than Tsume. She was wounded and cornered, but she knew him. He was one of the shinobi who brutalized her at the brothel – since he fell prey to the seal once, she knew there was a high likelihood it would happen again."

Sakumo's mind whirled with the implications. "And Tsume was buying time so she could set the tags off before he realized, so he wouldn't have a chance to escape the blast range. I don't know whether I should be proud of her forethought – because we both know she's not the best when it comes to tactics – or go cry in a corner somewhere."

Danzo pointed. "You seemed comfortable enough with the pole there."

"Shut up." Sakumo scrubbed his cheeks and sulked. "You know I'm sensitive."

"And I did my best to beat it out of you in ANBU – fat lot of good that did. May the Sage of the Six Paths save me from bumbling empaths."

"So that was why she wanted you instead of me. She knew how to turn on the seal, but not how to turn it off, and she…" Sakumo didn't hide the wonder in his voice, nor the smile that spread across his face (he ignored the horror twisting his gut, because he was going to have to really work hard on getting Tsume to understand and recognize what healthy boundaries looked like), "she trusts you, Danzo."

Danzo sullenly sunk behind the grain bags until only the tufts of his hair could be seen. "Just for that? I'm not giving back your saber unless we're invaded by enemy nin. You said it yourself, Sakumo – she's incapable of making decisions that keep her safe. That's how this whole damn thing started in the first place."

"She must've turned the seal off," Sakumo said, "because I didn't feel like I was driven into a frenzy. Well, no more than what any man would be driven to if he witnessed his daughter being raped. Which I stopped with my saber. Which I should keep, you know, just in case her seal goes off again."

"Take a hike - it's mine until I say it's yours." There was a pause, and then the tone in Danzo's voice shifted. "The seal may not be an issue if she knows you're around, now that Tsume realizes that she's not willing to pay the price of ensnaring you." Danzo peeked over the slope of the bags. "I actually feel sorry for you."

That wasn't the sort of subject change that Sakumo expected. "What?"

"Because now you have a well-meaning, impulsive, fearless twelve year old who can't be trusted to make safe decisions, wielding an overpowered siren seal that she can flip on and off like a light switch. Oh, and then there's the Kyuubi's jinchuuriki. You only had her for four months before she was abducted. Can you imagine what life is going to be like in another four months?"

Oh. Oh dear. Sakumo carefully sat on the floor and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Danzo did that on purpose.

"Oh, and did I ever mention that Tsume, at her established maximum allowed olfaction, knew exactly what our Hokage was eating and drinking in his office with three Uchiha from over eight hundred kilometers away?"

"Eight hundred—!" Sakumo glared and cleared his throat so his voice wouldn't crack again. "Why, no, you didn't. That appears to have uncharacteristically slipped your mind."

"Ah, my apologies. I suppose I've simply been too busy to mention that the strength of her nose is beyond S Rank classified, as Jiraiya put it. Well, since I'm feeling unusually generous and am in the mood for sharing, I highly encourage you to ask Tsume about Uchiha Madara, and what he was doing with her in the Nara forest, six years ago."

Sakumo flopped backwards until he was sprawled uncomfortably on their supplies. He folded his hands over his stomach. "I think I'm a bit too shocked at the moment imagining the strength of Tsume's olfaction to appreciate knowing that a presumed-dead S-rank missing nin somehow managed to get into the Nara forest without the Nara clan knowing, and frolicked with an innocent six year old Inuzuka." He already knew about Madara; Shinzou's screaming reports of who had harmed the young girl had sent security on high alert for an entire year afterwards, and he had been assigned to a task force with Hiderama. It was how they met, spent time together, and grew in love.

"Is frolic the new word for 'fucked over' or 'fucked with' these days?"

Sakumo rubbed his forehead. "Did you know about Madara being in the Nara forest, six years ago?"

"…let's just say that Konoha's security was probably frolicking that day. I blame the Hokage and the Head of Internal Affairs. Shinzou said it was Madara, but she was also hysterical at the time, so…" He shrugged.

Sakumo listened to Danzo's retreating heart – it was trying to shore up its bulwark again, rebuilding sturdy walls that kept the world out, because Danzo's brittle heart only knew how to be oversensitive. Hearing ceases to work when exposed too long to constantly deafening noise, and somehow Danzo wound up with a sensitive heart that was hyperaware and exaggerated with its feelings. It was hard to reconcile something so fragile with a man like Danzo – but Danzo was too brittle to be strong, and at such a high risk for his ideals to easily warp into something darker, something more deadly.

"We're done for now, but this isn't over," Sakumo said as he stepped out of the wagon. "It'll have to wait until we get back to Konoha."

"I know that." Danzo's voice was a whisper from the dark.