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Chapter Nine

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There came a day when, as all snot-nosed, annoying, bratty pestilences must, I decided that I didn't actually need to see Kato's fruitless attempts to unlock his chakra. Parental authority dictated that I should therefore head outside to do something productive with wooden kunai, an elusive feat I held no hope of accomplishing. But that was okay. It wasn't like weapons were the most basic skill in the ninja arsenal or anything.

Cue the mental whining from both twins. You're the best at jutsus, Daddy! Why can't I feel my chakra?

Or in my case, Really? You couldn't pass on one iota of the family legacy? And who painted a smiley face on this training log? It's mocking me.

Happily for me, I was in a position to escape our dearly belabored father. Also happily for me, I could use my chakra to scramble over the fence. There had been a loose board before, but we had escaped one ANBU too many. Kato would have to unlock his chakra if we wanted to keep taunting our babysitters.

I went to the market district, following the rules of my premeditated plan. First, I had to find a family to follow into a store so that its employees wouldn't think I was unaccompanied. I found a mother with three children around my age. One child was throwing a tantrum. The other two were playing catch with a tomato the lady was trying to put in her basket. I moseyed behind them and stepped into the store's restroom.

I stepped out a full two inches shorter.

It was a far cry from my first attempt of a different hair color, but I wanted to know how many people could see through it.

Besides, the best way to practice sustaining a henge was not hiding in a bathroom. I stole the mutant tomato from the kids and gave it to their bratty sibling.

"She never stops," the boy informed me with the expertise one gains from long disappointment.

"Ever," his sister added, her own tone much brighter. "Do you wanna play?"

They were both wildly happy, energetic-looking children. They resembled their mother: tall with dark features and eyes that possessed enough willpower to destroy a small army. The woman picked up the smallest child and crooned. The screaming faded.

"We can play ninja," the boy decided immediately. "I get to be Yondaime." He squinted at me. "You could be Sandaime?"

His sister shook her head, black curls flying everywhere. "No! He can be Kyūbi, 'cause he's got red hair and I'm always Sandaime, Mū."

This was some nuance of the Japanese language, right? To refer to strangers in the masculine gender? That does it. You win, Kurenai. I'll wear your dumb skirt. Ack—focus! "Why can't your sister be Kyūbi? She's loud enough." The kids looked at their mom, who raised her eyebrows and put her tiny daughter back on the floor.

We've got this, I coached myself. Keep the chakra moving, slowly, focus on the henge . . . phew. That was pleasantly terrifying. I can do this.

"She's just a baby." Mū's speculative squint widened into a grin. "She can be the villagers. Sandaime! We must protect the villagers!"

I fled. But I made certain to steal the fruit back from the younger girl before retreating into the shelves of dry goods.

"Your kids are quite active," the man behind the counter said to their mother, who groaned. "Tell you what, I think my wife was making tea. We have a teenage daughter ourselves, you see. I'm afraid it doesn't improve as time goes on."

"I don't want to think about it. And tea would be absolutely divine, if it's not a bother."

The devil children prowled closer, vowing to reclaim the, ah, tomato I had taken from their village. "It's mine now!" I crowed. Don't forget about the henge. You don't want to get chakra exhaustion or drop it.

"Look, the Kyūbi!" The girl grabbed Mū's arm.

"Gerroff," he ordered half-heartedly (torn between preening over how his sister came to him for protection or actually hunkering down and doing said protecting). His hands flailed wildly. "Super Summoning Technique: Awesome Giant Spider!"

"Ew!" the girl shrieked.

We watched her retreat. "The Sandaime is down!" Mū shouted. "I must sacrifice myself to save our meal!"

"What about the villagers?" I asked. "Oh, and your spider was just killed by one of my tails."

He blinked, surprised by my lack of imagination. "That's boring. Just one tail?"

"I held it down with the other eight. I might be open for an attack."

"Cool! What kind of attack?"

I grinned at the coffee-skinned boy with such wild eyes. He reminded me of someone from my earlier life, someone whose face and name had left my recollection. That person had been one of those who insist that people live on in other people's hearts. And where was he now?

"Elemental? No, wait. Giant Rasen-thing!"

Right in front of me, trying to pound yet another point into my skull. He dove. I kicked my feet out of his vise-like fingers and limped toward the front of the store.

They cornered me by the door. "Quick, Sandaime," yelled the boy, "make one of those Rasen-things."

"Rasengan?"

"Yeah, that." They flashed through their spastic hand seals and shouted the name of the technique with truly painful shrieks.

I watched. "Oh, yeah? Tailed Beast Bomb!" and I lobbed the huge tomato at them, which was probably a bad idea, since no one would want to catch the enemy's jutsu. It exploded across the floor, splashing our feet with globs of hopeful offspring. "Oops." We exchanged glances. "Um, you win?"

They cheered. I suppose most Kyūbi weren't as willing to roll over and die, so that was an accomplishment. Good for them.

"I'm Mū," said Mū. "This is Fū."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Kana."

"Kane-kun?" Close enough, Fū. And thank you for again assuming that I am a male. Correcting you would be much too troublesome.

"I have to go," I announced, changing the subject. Not to mention that the adults aren't in the room, and I really don't want to find out what happens when they do return.

"You don't wanna keep playing?" Fū cajoled, tugging on my sleeve.

Not particularly, dear. I need to locate a few ninjas before my father decides I've been kidnapped. I smiled mischievously at my new buddies. "Wanna see something before I go?"

Emphatic yes.

My fingers melted into the Ram seal. Several red tails appeared behind me, waving cheekily. I dropped the henge and ran before they could react. What if someone saw that? I couldn't hear anyone following.

Well, if it came to it, I could piece together a cover from all the burned Kyūbi puppets that littered the streets in October. Daddy had never brought up the events of that particular memorial day, but the village of Konoha put Halloween to shame for creepiest holiday. Were they celebrating or mourning? The bitterness always implied the latter.

I found an unoccupied bench and perched on it, wrapping my arms around my knees. Civilians and ninjas went about their days without a second glance at me. A few parents saw my happy expression and decided to let me be. The ninjas didn't react at all. Typical.

"Kana-chan!"

I turned to see Mozuku and Nao walking up the road, arms over each other's shoulders. They hulked over me. Either they had grown taller while they were away, or I had lost more than two inches.

The flak jackets made them look old.

Although that could be the circles under their eyes.

"You look different," Mozuku said, "but I suppose it's been a while." The Chūnin Exams had changed more than his appearance, because he reached out and uncharacteristically patted me on the head. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Oh, you just reached through the two inches of space that used to be my head. No problem. I gaped rather unflatteringly. "Where's Bato-san?" Physical henge . . . makes sense why no one was staring.

The hand trembled before it retreated. "He's. Um."

"Training, right?" supplied Nao. "He won't be home for a while."

"What kind of training?" I pressed, noting the way their knuckles whitened around one another's shoulders. It was not the most conventional coping method.

My pet chūnin looked at each other helplessly. "Saimaru-sensei would tell her," Mozuku muttered.

Nao deflated. "I'm not Sensei."

"Bato-kun is barely alive," Mozuku admitted reluctantly. "He can't be a ninja anymore."

Which was nonsense. Plenty of chūnin spent their days wading through paperwork and the trappings of bureaucracy. If Bato's condition did not kill him, he wouldn't be out of a paycheck. He was, however, likely to retire and let the ninja disability fund supplement a different job.

He could make a good career of poisoning small children. After all, the medicine here did not yet taste artificial.

I smiled cheerily. "His cousin said she was going to go fix him."

"His cousin?"

"Fukunaga-san. She knows a lot about medicine. She's really smart."

And she was. Yoshino had hauled me to her house the next day while Shika was at school, and the documents they had sent with Manami were practically written in another language. Yoshino trusted Manami to find a cure. "That girl needs to go into research!" she had ranted as we folded their laundry. "I don't know why she wants to moon over your father. It would be like marrying a brick wall." She had glanced at me. "With two very grimy windows."

"So," I started, jumping to my feet, "how did your test go?"

Very well indeed.

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"Kakashi-san."

Daddy turned, and my perch on his shoulders brought me face-to-face with Wildcat. "The Hokage has summoned you," Wildcat continued stiffly, his eyes probably glued to me. I immediately reached for his mask.

He had to be a Hyūga. He was unfailingly polite and had a veritable waterfall of hair. Nothing escaped him, not even mouthing insults in a separate room.

Daddy nodded at the retreating ANBU and patted my knee. "You don't have to bully them, Kana-chan. Besides, Wildcat is in love with his hair." Whereas my own head was worse than even my father's distinctive bush. "He wouldn't want you to tangle it."

"I'm not conta—" the world shifted, "—gious." The colors solidified into the roof outside the Hokage's office. The window was open. I huffed.

"Ah, Kakashi," said the Hokage, looking up over a forest's worth of paperwork. "And Kana-chan. I was not aware that you were off-duty, Kakashi."

Daddy winced, staying in his bow as I slipped to the floor. "I apologize, Hokage-sama. I have become lax with my duties. I can send her home, if you prefer."

Grandfather waved a hand. "You have not seen them in a while; it is understandable and, to an extent, unavoidable. There is no need to send her to Shikaku's office, though." (Jōnin Commanders weren't supposed to babysit. Daddy refused to agree.) "The details of your mission are on this scroll. I'll look after your daughter for you."

Daddy caught the mission scroll. "They eat supper at six," he spouted. "Kato-kun is at a friend's house—he should be home around five-thirty. Weevil is on leave right now. Or Saimaru could watch them, if he's not training his team. They practice their swordsmanship after supper and get a snack after that."

"What's on the scroll, Daddy? Can I read it?"

Daddy blinked down at me. "Sorry, kiddo." He flickered away.

Instructions averted.

Grandfather was smiling. "You have no idea how satisfying it is to see that man so flustered, my dear. It almost makes me wish Danzō had had children."

I trotted up to the desk. "Who's Danzō?" There was a child-sized hole between two of the larger stacks. Suggested Revisions to Kiri Export Tax, one of them read. Requested Research Material for Academy Teachers, the second stack advertised.

"No one you should know," the Hokage assured me. "In fact, if you ever so much as hear his name, I want you to inform me or your father immediately."

I grinned. "I just heard his name! Now what? Will you tell me a story about him?"

Hiruzen shook his head, returning to his paperwork. "Dear Hokage," he read. "As you have no doubt been informed, I recently succeeded Yagura in the position of Mizukage. It is my desire to strengthen the old bonds between our villages. I believe you already know some of my terms, and I would like to meet with you in person to discuss both of our agendas."

At this point my adopted grandparent came to his senses and stopped reading aloud. I cocked my head, mind racing through ideas to finish that letter. "How do you spell 'agendas'?" I asked, leaning forward and craning my neck.

The Sandaime put the letter in his desk and reached for a blank sheet of paper. "It's simple," he lied.

I copied his handwriting while he waded through his duties. He mentioned Kiri quite a few times (I asked what was on every new document he touched). The new Mizukage, Terumī Mei, was only twenty years of age, but she had plenty of allies and the support of the civilians and quite a few ninjas. Grandfather liked her a lot.

Terumī Mei . . . it sounded familiar.

All power to her. Yagura was a name my brain associated with Madara. Itachi's little world history lessons had spent plenty of time reaffirming that particular connection.

I showed the Sandaime the fruits of my labors by throwing them all over his desk. "Wakana." Stern eyes met my own unrepentant ones.

I giggled.

He picked up one of my papers. Agenda, messy, childish handwriting testified. Agenda, agenda, agenda. And then, in nearly perfect strokes, Sarutobi Hiruzen.

The other pages were similar, although their forgeries grew less shaky. Hiruzen picked through them critically. "Interesting," he murmured. "Unfortunately, these are barely enough to fool children. Still. It appears we have found a talent. I might have to see if you can do chakra mimicry later and keep you at a desk job forever. It would be terribly convenient if you could copy chakra signatures, my dear."

I was already at the window, pointing at a dark bird and asking if it were one of Itachi's crow summons. You're kidding, I griped internally. I slave away to show off without breaking my painstakingly established four-year-old coordination and now you tell me forgery takes chakra? That's like when Inoichi told me I wasn't a sensory type! "Itachi-san has a big, massive, beautiful bird called Shō-sama," my mouth continued, "and I want to ride it but he said. . . ." It's not fair! How can I possibly fool the Sharingan or anyone sensory with a henge? I won't be able to unless I have chakra like a chameleon, and even that might not be enough.

The Hokage explained that the bird was just a common messenger hawk. "It is not even a summon." And if it were, how would I tell, by its wingbeats? According to Inoichi, I would never be able to identify chakra from a decent range. My hearing simply couldn't compensate.

"Are you upset, Kana-chan? Your friend Itachi has important missions to do."

"I'm curious how you know what kind of bird it is when the wall is in your way, Grandfather."

He chuckled.

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~Finally, right? Yeah. I was supposed to write this sooner and all, but I've been alternatively gone and busy with brain-eating activities. One of these activities has eaten much of my recent time, but it might just result in money. Imagine that. I feel like I've spent more time packing than actually being away. I'll be going away again tomorrow, and again to a place without much internet.

I really dislike how short these chapters are versus the amount of time they cover (four years shouldn't last more than nine chapters. Shame on me). Unfortunately, I write nowhere near fast enough to update with these ideally long chapters, and I can't stand the thought of fast-forwarding. So, please note that a few compilations will be scheduled as time goes on. This will inconvenience those who have already reviewed, but it's the best compromise I can think of. Alternatively, I will start experimenting with radiation to see if I, too, can reach the level that so many other authors are at. Ha.

This third paragraph is literally only here because of my OCD tendencies. I want the alert to say 3000 words exactly, and so it shall. I don't expect anyone to even read this paragraph—consider it an experiment. I shall assume that you skip or skim through author's notes, a habit I sometimes keep, and you shall . . . well, you've clearly read it.

If you think I'm just rambling on without a true idea of the future plot, you are now officially wrong. I have decided what to do (or not, heh) with the canon plot. The best part is that in exactly the way my slow writing style works, everything posted thus far matches up perfectly. I think. Until then, you guys are free to guess at what's different. Some clues exist. Most don't.

'Til later, you guys! Thanks for all the reviews and support!