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Chapter Sixteen

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"Did you at least like the ramen?" Shikamaru asked as we walked into view of my house.

I glanced behind to check on Kato, who was still right behind us and had definitely not been kidnapped. "It was all right," I said neutrally. "Kind of salty, I guess. I don't really remember."

"Sure you don't," said Shika. "What's that on your door?"

A small square of paper was stuck just to the side of the front door's handle. It had Kato's and my name on it. "It's Daddy's handwriting," I observed, and we walked up the steps to look at it more closely.

"It's stuck to the door."

"I noticed," I said sardonically, and pulled my hand back. "Any other brilliant ideas?"

My friend smiled. "Sure. Try applying chakra. It's probably a note saying that your father is gone again."

"Probably." I pushed chakra to my fingertips and caught the note as it unsealed itself from the door. "Or maybe it's a reminder that I'm supposed to oil my tantō because it was lying in the yard when it rained this morning."

"Seriously?"

I huffed. "Don't pretend that you're perfect all the time, Mister I-got-a-bad-grade-on-this-test-because-I-want-my-teachers-to-keep-a-low-expectation-of-me." At least I'd left the weapon outside accidentally. "Huh." I flicked the paper at his forehead. "He put it in code again."

"What makes you think I want to decode it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Then give it to Kato. It's a simple code we learned last week."

Shika did just that, and Kato happily deciphered the note. "You're both wrong," he chirped. "Daddy says that he's working late tonight and since there's no food in the house, we should go to the Naras' for supper. He says we can spar in the morning."

Shika and I both shuddered, but for different reasons. "Don't complain," I told him frostily. "Your family isn't teaching you kenjutsu. You won't get murdered for forgetting to treat a sword like a person."

"Neither will you, Kana-chan," my brother interrupted. "Daddy will understand that you forgot." Somehow I doubted that.

We were halfway to Shika's house before anyone said anything else. "My dad realized that I don't apply myself to schoolwork very often," Shika admitted, which was hardly an admission at all. "He says that will give me more time to work on clan techniques."

"Hey, at least you know what those are. Some days I feel like we're trying to make up Hatake techniques."

"That sounds terrible," my friend said dryly. "Let me know if you ever spend more than a month on one technique." Kato and I both stared at him.

"What are you learning?" Kato asked.

I laughed. "What aren't you learning?"

Shika gave us one of his well-practiced sighs. "Nothing yet, although Dad says I'm doing fine. I just have to figure it out on my own."

"So, I take it no shōgi tonight?"

"Why not? Maybe you'll get lucky and win."

I scoffed, but that did kind of sting. When we'd started playing that game against each other, the ratio had been close to fifty-fifty. Now it was hard to place that last time I'd even been close to winning.

As we padded into his room and dropped into our usual spots around his shōgi board, I considered. There was something off about me. It had been off for a while, but lately everyone seemed to be commenting. Subtle digs, like Kato's, "Don't you care?" and Shika's, "Sure you don't," but if people were noticing, there had to be a problem. Something was wrong.

I wanted that something to be right.

Admittedly, I had no idea how to fix a problem I couldn't even identify, but harder things have been done. Harder things, such as breaking the world's longest losing streak.

"What is it?" Shika asked.

I ran one of the pawns through my fingers. "You know how utterly, absolutely frustrated you are because you can't control your shadow? How it's hard not to lash out when one of your friends says it's adorable, because it's you you're mad at, not her? I went through that, Shika. So did Kato." I sighed. "Now that I've said those words of comfort, I think it's past time for me to start creaming you at shōgi."

"Well, that was a lot to say for so little."

I shoved the pawn forward. "Stop talking and start losing. I bet this is the only way you can get out of shadow training, so don't try to stall."

"Odds are you'll be the one stalling."

No, I decided. No, this is ending right now. I am going to stop backing out, and I am going to stop it forever. No more of this weird depression. No more toying around.

I poured myself into that game. I threw every ruse I knew at Shika, comparing them with my memory of our past matches.

And I lost. Badly.

"Play again," I demanded over supper, overriding whatever chance Shika had had about working on his clan techniques. The Nara parents exchanged a glance but said nothing.

I'd found my problem. It was simple: I couldn't stand to lose. Somehow, my entire life had slipped into an attitude of "I'm losing, so none of this really matters." I had decided that the possibility of losing wasn't worth opening myself up enough to have a chance at winning. After all, it was hard to be emotionally vulnerable. It was hard to accept that one day, I would put my life on the line.

Your life is already on the line. Focus on something else.

Funny how a few words can put everything in perspective.

And that was how I decided to become a ninja.

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The first decision I reached was that I wanted to make Daddy my ally. If there was one thing he valued, it was loyalty between teammates—and loyalty included honesty. Kakashi had been hurt when I'd pretended I couldn't speak Japanese all those years ago. Therefore, it was best that I tell him about henging before someone else did. And I should probably go the extra mile and mention my excursions, too.

It struck me that this was not a conversation any child would want to have with his parent. "Hey, just so you know, I've been disguising myself and befriending potential serial killers behind your back!" Yeah, I should borrow a shovel.

I was fortunate enough to wake up to the rhythmic sounds of Daddy shaving. Not for the first time, I wondered if we could invent a seal for that. I reached for a pen before I remembered that I had a, ah, minor confession to make. The seal could wait.

Daddy stepped to the side as I entered the bathroom and stationed myself against the door. "Good morning, Princess."

I blinked, memories instantly flashing back to a redheaded woman who had cried me to sleep. "Morning. Did you get everything done last night?"

Daddy dragged the blade down his chin again while opening the hand towel drawer with his knee. "I heard that you played Shikamaru-kun a few times yesterday. Did you beat him?"

"Only once, but you didn't answer—"

"Good job, Princess. Beating a Nara at a strategy game isn't something that happens every day. Besides, Shikaku-san says that Naras don't like to marry women that are smarter than them."

I eyed the senbon nestled in with the toothbrushes and decided not to bother maiming my only remaining parent. "What does that have to do with shōgi?"

"Hopefully nothing," he muttered, before glancing at me and noticing my less-than-relaxed posture. "What is it, Kana-chan?" Both of his eyes narrowed slightly, giving his face an intense expression that had probably been tailored to scare ANBU and missing-nin alike.

My own face split into a grin. "You shave with the Sharingan?" I cleared my throat. "I mean, sorry. I have something I want to show you, Daddy. Once you're done."

He wiped his face on a towel and followed me into the pre-dawn darkness of the kitchen, where places were already set for breakfast. I flipped on the light.

You know, wheedled the large part of my brain that considered this a very bad idea, it's not too late to change your mind. We don't want this to get out of hand.

Oh, zip it, the rest of me drawled, and I flashed through the official sequence of Dog, Boar, and Ram.

"Huh," said Daddy as he stared at himself. "Maybe you should have waited until my birthday."

Excuse me? What kind of reaction was that? That wasn't even an opinion! I had spend years keeping this a secret and all I got was a cryptic, off-hand remark? "So . . . you're not upset?"

He gave me a slow, lazy smile that was absolutely unmistakable. Here's my chance to go get that shovel.

"If you'd henged into me on my birthday, you might have flattered me into thinking you worked on henging as a surprise. But that's not the case, is it? This quality and speed must have taken a lot of time and effort."

My gaze dropped to the floor, where suddenly all I could see were the tiny scuffs and scratches on both of our pairs of shoes. It wouldn't have killed me to have done a sloppier henge. But at least this way, I wasn't lying to him. Mostly.

"How long ago was your first henge?"

Long enough ago that I had to think. Should I count the one-sealed henges? They were physically solid, unlike the textbook henge I was holding right now. I rarely used the illusion type of henge—it was easier to hold, but it took more concentration to create and ninjas could see through it. Oh, and I still had that weird thing where sometimes I couldn't see it. "Not sure," I said, opting for a compromise. "Six months? I've been practicing a lot. I wanted to show you before you left for another long mission."

He frowned. "Who taught you the hand seals? I didn't do it, did I?" What was that, his worst nightmare?

"No," I admitted, no, you would have died of a heart attack if you'd ever shown us hand seals, "Sparrow told me. It was the day she attacked you."

"Well, that narrows it down," he said sarcastically, but I could tell he remembered. "Is that why you've always taken so much time in the bathroom?"

"I do not!"

Daddy chuckled. "Well, it looks like it paid off. I've seen genjutsu specialists that couldn't make a blush look that realistic."

"I'm not blushing, either! This is your face."

"And I see shadow clones of myself all the time, don't I? I think I know how my own face works."

I smiled innocently. "I always wondered why you wear a mask."

This, oddly enough, made him choke.

"There's no denying whose daughter you are, Kana-chan. I suppose I should be proud that you take after me so much. But that's harder to deal with than I ever thought it would be." His head tilted pensively. "I would have helped you learn the jutsu if you'd asked, Kana-chan. But now that I know, I'm not going to let you slack off."

Oh, boy. Daddy always knew just what to say. "I thought you were mad at me," I reasoned, suddenly feeling very sympathetic for Shika. "Doesn't that mean no extra training?"

"That's what I say to your brother, kiddo. You've already proven you're not him. Besides, you can handle some criticism." The glint in his Sharingan said otherwise.

"Should I wake Kato-kun first?"

And while I was at it, it wouldn't hurt to grab the current batch of seals. If Daddy was that serious, this next lunch break might be all the free time I'd get for a while.

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"Kana-chan?"

I jumped, sending a spray of ink across the seal I'd been scribbling on. Great. Now I'd have to get another stack of paper from Isami before the end of the week. "Go to sleep," I muttered, trying to think positive thoughts. Ninja customers didn't take their orders' delivery dates seriously, right?

"No, you go to sleep," Kato insisted, sounding cross. "No wonder Daddy's been finding so many problems with the jutsu he's teaching you. Go to sleep."

He rolled over, huffed, and drifted back into his slumber. Deadlines, I reminded myself. Commitments.

I kept copying. If it really came to it, I could sleep during class.

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In the aftermath of my first resolution, the second was easy to keep. All the random running around and henging was going to stop? Meet my father. Problem solved.

Suzume was too important to give up, of course. Seals were a valuable commodity, and the new seals we created were proving themselves in the field. Ninjas returned to the shop with riveting stories (the one with the dolphin summon and the rubber duck never failed to garner a laugh) and often gave us ideas of their own. Our growing consumer field of children was happily swamping us with their ideas, too. I couldn't back out of the sealmaking business—although at this point, I was definitely tempted.

Itachi was the henge I determined to give up, which was naturally the first decision I broke. I hadn't meant to. I hadn't meant to walk outside the instant my father got called away for another gloriously long mission. I did expect the weak cheer as I collapsed onto our yard in a relieved jumble.

Tell Daddy I could henge? Big. Mistake.

My muscles didn't ache, but my brain felt like it had been lacerated with permanent bruises. "Imagine if I'd told him about the solid henge," I mumbled, and that was when the hysterical laughter set in.

I could copy Daddy down to his fingerprints. Down to the hair on his forearms. Down to every chink and wrinkle on the palms of his hand. In short, since I now knew exactly what Daddy's outward appearance really looked like, I really did not ever want to have to look at him again.

"Kana, if this is going to be part of your fighting style, you need to perfect it," I mimicked shrilly. "It's my duty as a father.

"Because what, I'll need to masquerade as Hatake Kakashi? I don't think so, mister! I have better things to do with my life. Better people to copy."

Kato stuck his head out the back door, cutting me off before I could do anything stupid. "Daddy said that one of us should go shopping with Pakkun-san."

"Which is another way of saying you've nobly volunteered me for the task."

He shut the door and retreated into the kitchen to continue his homework and the conversation. "You worked with Daddy all morning and finished your homework before Sensei finished assigning it. Besides, it's not like you won't go out this evening while I do my chakra exercises. If you like leaving the house, you may as well go with Pakkun-san. It's simple." Irritatingly so.

I swept inside, grabbed the grocery list on the refrigerator, barked some sort of complaint at Pakkun, and marched outside. Pakkun snickered to himself for the next five blocks. "You're buying the groceries," I said. "I'll carry them. That's it."

"I thought you wanted to run around the village tonight."

"Urgh, why is everyone against me today? Fine, you win. I'll deal with shopping, and you can be in charge of the money. Does that sound good?"

He scratched at one of his ears. "I also want a bag of doggy treats."

"Your funeral," I said. "I'm not covering for you when Daddy notices the six or seven bags you'll make me get you." I'd just add some of my sealmaking money to Daddy's wallet and that would be that.

"Plus a bath tomorrow."

I groaned. "The things I do to keep my sanity."

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~Well, this took a bit less time than the last chapter did, eh?

I'm out of things to say, so I put up another poll. This one will actually be relevant to the plot. Who do you want to see in charge of Kana's genin team? I am all for the crazy speculation that makes writing fun.

And we've got plenty of time before a genin team happens. . . . ;)