.
Chapter Eighteen
.
People talk about Kakashi. It's nothing new or surprising—he's famous to both the roof and the street life, and conversation always gravitates toward what people are comfortable with (that and the fact that they always assume that no one can hear them. Really? It's a ninja village, people). People like to speculate. Ninjas talk about his reputation and prowess. How could one ninja get so far in so short a lifetime? Civilians look at the man and wonder what in the world is in him that they can relate to. I think about every parent in Konoha has figured that if it came to keeping one's children alive, any parent would be unstoppable.
Everyone—civilian and ninja alike, wonders at what Kakashi would do if he were angry.
Everyone except me.
But I think Fugaku must have been curious, because I couldn't think of any other reason for him to come to our house while we were still eating supper. Besides vindictiveness, I suppose.
Fugaku delivered a neat little report that did nothing but display fatherly concern for another ninja's daughter. I sat in my chair and considered what life would have been like with ninja fathers that weren't quite so competent. Kato settled down for the ride.
Our father thanked the police chief, wished him a good night, and shut the door softly. I had a brief second where my stomach informed me that it wanted out of my life. It dropped out the instant Daddy turned around.
"Wakana, as soon as you're done, we're going to have a talk. Wakato, we're going to talk right now."
There went my appetite for the next week. Kato looked positively shaken. That wouldn't do. It was my fault, not his.
"He had nothing to do with it! He didn't even know what I was doing."
I don't even know how to describe Daddy's face. Nightmare fuel? Yes, something like that. My gaze dropped to my unfinished rice as Kakashi directed his wrath at his son. On the one hand, I didn't want my problems taken out on Kato. On the other, I didn't exactly want all of that anger directed at me.
"How long have you been trying to copy my chidori, young man?"
Wait, what? Who?
Kato shrank down into his chair in a vain attempt to reclaim the blood that had drained from his face. I stared at him, my, ah, mortal terror ebbing somewhat. My perfect, innocent little brother was messing with an A-rank jutsu? How had he seen that?
"Don't even think about it, Kana," snapped Daddy. I promptly tried to imagine what exactly he was referring to. Me, using lightning to try to mimic an assassination technique? Not likely. Attempting a shiny A-rank jutsu, on the other hand . . . hook, line, and sinker.
This was probably not a good time to think about Suzume's occasional field trips to the training grounds. I hadn't asked those boys to show off for me. They'd merely assumed that I was disabled. Besides, how many teenagers would have an A-rank in their repertoire?
"Wakato. How long?"
Kato's face could have given a paralyzed rabbit a run for its money. I watched my twin with petrified fascination, certain that my own face was a mirror of his. Kato managed to suck in a breath. "Academy," he said.
"I don't think so," Daddy countered. "Who would know chidori at the Academy?"
Kato muttered, "Well, you did."
Phew, said Kakashi's face as he recalled the day he'd gotten to show off for school children. None of the teachers were actually trigger-happy with one of his original assassination jutsus. That worked out well, since most of the school staff were only chūnin. Which brought his thoughts back to his observant son. "Don't try that attitude with me, kiddo. Now, when did you start trying to use it?"
Kato tried to melt into the floor, chair and all. "Um. Always?" He backpedaled fast. "Nothing really happened until my chakra was unlocked."
"All those static shocks?"
Kato blushed. "I just . . . wanted to prove that I can be like you."
Daddy reached across the table and ruffled my twin's hair. "Don't be," he said, smiling fondly like he had every right to. "From now on, you will only work on chidori when I tell you to. No more scorch marks under the rugs."
Kato, after a few seconds' contemplation, decided that Daddy's tyrannical attention was exactly the best thing that could have ever could have happened. Foolish brother.
Daddy's smile turned on me and reminded me of all the places I would have rather been. The other side of the planet. Running laps with Gai. Haplessly throwing myself off of a (small) cliff. "Now, Wakana, let's have a discussion."
Resolution three: tell someone about the masquerading. Not exactly the scenario I'd been picturing. On the other hand, it was surprising that Daddy hadn't already confronted me. He wasn't incompetent. Sure, I'd never noticed any of the dogs following me, but that didn't mean he hadn't been keeping tabs on me this whole time.
Kato seized the moment to escape to the living room, where he could eavesdrop without wincing under his father's intense glare. Not that I was jealous or anything.
"Starting with," growled my father, "a confession of where you learned a solid henge."
Eep.
"Itachi," I blurted before thinking Dad's sentence through. All Itachi had ever shown me was how to release a normal henge. He wasn't a culprit here. Unless, as it happened, the crime was associating with Kakashi's daughter.
While the temperature in the house dropped, I tried to save my friend. "But he used the hand seal to dispel a henge, not make one."
"One seal is hardly enough to sustain a complicated jutsu. Where did you learn the sequence?"
I blinked at him. "What sequence?"
"Don't play games with me, Wakana."
"I'm not," I snapped, taking the easy way out. "I thought that that was the seal for henging. I didn't learn the real henge sequence until later. Sparrow taught me that when she thought you were a kidnapper. Happy?"
It was about the shortest I'd ever been with him, and much less civil than I'd ever been with anyone else. Back in the old days, I'd thrown out Killing Intent to express my displeasure. I'd honed it to an art form. There was no trace of it in the air right now, which meant that at least I'd gotten over that habit. No need to amplify bad moods today. I was upset enough already.
My attitude must have clashed with Daddy's, because my reply only brought his mood even lower. "You expect me to believe that you came up with a single-sealed, solid henge without knowing anything about its chakra theory?"
Well, when he put it that way. "No." I didn't really believe it either. I mean, I'm not a very clever person. I can't pull analysis out of the air like Kato, or wing an observation like Shika, or even do a fragment of what my own father could do at my age. There was nothing in my life that made me capable of prodigious things.
Whatever Daddy thought did not get said right away. Until, as usual, he got right down to the point. "Why Uchiha Itachi?" Why point the blame at him?
He'd been on my mind a lot recently, that was all.
"He annoyed me," I said. "Besides, we spent a month with him."
"You used that month to observe his appearance and personality?"
I rolled my eyes, choosing to ignore the pragmatism in that statement. "I'm five years old, Daddy. I'm not going to turn into one of the girls in kunoichi class."
"And yet your sealmaking disguise trots around the village with an Uchiha. What do you want me to think? Maybe if you pretend to be older, I won't notice? I'll turn a blind eye to the countless excursions you've had over the years?"
Well, there went my childhood. So much for all my happy days of being secretive. But I'd have to mourn them later, when I wasn't busy defending my second life. "Do you think I wanted every teenage ninja male staring at Suzume? You taught me that my henge isn't very realistic, and I definitely don't have much experience pretending to be a teenager! Itachi knew who I was, so what was the problem? You trust him!"
Daddy glared. "I trust you with him. Not the other way around, Princess."
"If that's the case," I snapped, "maybe you should rethink your opinion. I'm the one who sneaks out, and stays up all night, and can't protect herself. Maybe you should find a normal kid who does her homework and can hit at least a target pole with thrown weapons. Someone who acts like your daughter."
The looming sense of murder disappeared as he reached some sort of important conclusion. "I think I can only deal with one person who acts like my daughter, Kana-chan. Whether you like it or not, that's you."
It was my own turn to be blindsided by someone else's words. Unfortunately, I didn't stop to think about the affirmation he'd handed me. Kakashi, as my father, was willing to overlook my attitude and actions because he loved me and was ready to work. All I noticed, however, was what I expected to hear. He was fed up with me, and he was stuck.
I opened my less-than-ecstatic mouth and let loose. "Why bother, then? Why don't you just let me drop, just like you left the woman who became my mother? Why don't you just let every happy memory pale in the light of perfect missions and mechanical perfection? Why not just let everything uncomfortable go?"
Silence.
I was impressed that Kato was still on the couch. He wasn't squirming any more, either. Must have desensitized him.
Similar to his son, Daddy sat still and accepted the new information. Unlike before, it seemed to make him sad. Hmph, I thought.
But as another long silence rolled by, the justification began to wear off. That was a low blow. Especially for something that's none of my business. What if he loved her? A bitter smirk stretched across my face even as I tried not to smile. He couldn't have. He didn't love anything at that age.
"Wakana," Daddy said.
Dark humor and ugly thoughts churning, I looked at him.
"Henge into Suzume," he said, "and let's walk."
It was the first time in a long time that I doubted my ability to execute a solid henge, but Suzume re-entered existence just as she always had. If Daddy was interested, he didn't show it. His only comment was, "You should have made her from Mist," and then he led the way to the front door.
Kato stared at me as we walked out. I watched the floor—and lo and behold, there were scorch marks visible on the floor that peeked out from underneath the rug. Strange that the rug didn't get hurt. Only . . . the rug was missing several years' worth of toddler wear. Kato had bought a new rug.
I stared right back at Kato before Daddy shut the door behind us. "Let's go."
Konoha at night was much calmer than daytime's bustle and business, although we lived in a quiet civilian neighborhood to begin with. Families talked to each other as they finished supper and put their children to bed. As we walked further, the domestic conversations turned into couples walking along moonlit paths and bridges. Daddy said nothing, not even when a few of the passersby nodded hello.
We parked in an unfamiliar wooded training ground. It was far enough from civilization that I could barely hear past the animal life and tinkling breaths of leaves. It was hard not to relax. I managed.
"Who are you?" Daddy asked suddenly.
What kind of trick question was that? "I'm Suzume," I answered grumpily. "A fake person who—"
"No," interrupted Daddy. "Who are you?"
I really hoped he could see the incredulity on my face. "Do you want me to drop the henge?" Why had he even wanted me to form one? Was he suddenly against being seen with his daughter?
Okay, the worst thing about this conversation was the long pauses. We'd had much more pausing than talking by this point, and nothing had really been communicated beyond accusations and baseless assumptions. What was this, Pride and Prejudice?
Hey, I remembered a book! Can I remember any of the characters?
"Look at me." Dutifully, I looked.
Oh, that's right: Elizabeth. And let's see, who was her friend, the one who was sensible? Missus something? Nono, Charlotte. She married for economic reasons. And . . . whatever Daddy was emphasizing, I did not see it.
I hated these pauses.
"Who. Are. You?"
I eyed him suspiciously, pushing the novel out of my head in favor of finding the correct answer, which was apparently not Suzume. Or "me" me. There was only the Kana Daddy knew. "Well, um, I'm your daughter."
Strangely enough, he accepted this answer. "And who are you right now?"
"Su—" Wait, this was another trick question. "Not Suzume," I reworded. "Hatake Wakana."
"And who is Hatake Wakana-chan?"
I thought we'd just established that I didn't know that. I shifted. "You know, we have a test in kunoichi class tomorrow."
"As if that matters," I imagined him replying, but he was silent. Stupid ears, failing me now. Even the sounds of nature were remarkably dull. Stupid ears, leaving me with my thoughts.
My thoughts. Mine. "Me?"
"You," he affirmed.
Oh. Oh. That made so much more sense now. Somehow. The definition didn't matter. Even henged as Suzume, I was me. Now if only this epiphany came with some sort of point.
"You are not on the same level as your mother," Daddy said. "You are my daughter. I will always be your father. No matter how much of a prodigy you are, that will never change."
"But I'm n—"
"Believe me, Kana."
I resolved to try.
.
Good things never last, of course, and that was why I found myself in the garden the next evening, writing seals in the open for the first time. I arranged my various materials over the desk I'd carried outside and sorted through the various categories of orders. For once, Isami and I weren't behind. Provided I kept it that way, that was.
"How are the hand seal progressions coming?" Daddy asked from his bedroom the moment my brush hit the first paper. I glanced over at Kato, who was ignoring our prescribed progressions practice in favor of bringing sparks to his fingertips.
"Infrequently," I replied.
Whether he'd heard me or not, Kakashi showed up in the middle of the yard.
We scrambled.
"Don't bother," he said, looking amused. "We'll work on those later. For now, I want your opinions."
I would have shared a glance with Kato, but he was too busy trying to extinguish his arm. Daddy waited for his kids' complete attention. While Kato was occupied, I slipped a few more brushstrokes in. I hadn't ruined my seal when Daddy had appeared, but this kind of ink needed to stay wet until the last stroke.
"We're going to the Chūnin Selection Exams in Kiri."
Now Kato and I exchanged a glance. But I think that was because my brush slipped and accidentally applied too much ink to the explosive part of the seal.
I didn't say anything.
Kato's sparks jumped the rest of the way up his arm as he shouted something unintelligible. Which was, with my hearing, an impressive feat. I waited for the yelling to die down.
"What about school, Daddy?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Even if you two end up falling behind, you'll have a year to catch up. Besides, I thought you liked picking up new jutsu, Kana?"
I huffed, staring down at my messy desk and its new blotch of ink. "It's not the jutsu I have trouble with, Daddy."
I wasn't about to share my opinion of the Uchiha clan and the wonky impressions my henges were picking up about that whole pit of worms.
"When are we leaving?" I said instead, mind instantly full of plans and conflicts to resolve. Isami had been sent a note from the Hokage asking for one of us to bring some of the less dangerous seals to Kiri to expand trade between the villages. Her mother and she had already arranged for an escort mission. This just might have fixed any restocking problems.
On a less optimistic note, the Uchiha were not happy with their place in the pecking order. I'd been trying to befriend them through Kiyomi's circle of friends, and while I knew her parents approved of me by this point, the other Uchiha were harder nuts to crack. The kids never wanted to show off their clan fighting techniques, and I never volunteered to display my throwing skills (except for one day. I'd gotten five of them to laugh hysterically). The Uchiha adults, while fairly willing to turn a blind eye at their children's friends, were not about to talk to little non-clan kids.
Which had been where Suzume and Itachi were going to come in. I was young and irrelevant, but Suzume was older, respected, and innovative. Before Fugaku had ruined my life, that had been my best idea. Barge in as an affiliate of Akatsuki Weapons and connect with the teenagers.
Because while Itachi didn't really have a connection with his relatives, Suzume could get on their level and work her way up.
Except now none of that could happen.
Daddy rolled his eyes. "You have a whole month to worry about your grades, Kana."
I can work with that. I think. I hope.
Daddy raised an eyebrow. "Pakkun will be going with you when you use your sealmaking disguise. You are only allowed to talk to your friend at Akatsuki Weapons, unless I'm with you."
Well, that put a damper on things. I think. I hope.
.
"Kiyomi!"
My friend left her target practice to stare at me, panting as I was from running straight from an endurance run to the Uchiha compound. She collected her thoughts and replaced her kunai in her weapons pouch. "Yes?" Typical Uchiha serenity. It was like pressing a button.
"Does Itachi-san have any friends?"
Her Uchiha cover broke in a moment of pure confusion. However, being Kiyomi, she took the question at face value. "He's always with his little brother, Sasuke-kun. Um, I think he is close to Shisui-sama, as well."
"What about outside of the clan?"
She shifted her weight. "I wouldn't know. Father says he is rarely home from missions. I think that when he is, he spends most of his time with his brother." Apparently when she was thinking hard, her fingers spun an imaginary kunai. Perfectly. "Is that all, Wakana?"
"Yes," I said, blinking as my eyes were drawn to her target post's precise line of kunai. Be still, my jealous heart. "Thank you. I have to run home. Have a good day, Kiyomi. See you tomorrow!"
It was just a thought, but . . . well, on my end of things, Itachi was close to reaching the same kind of understanding I had with Shika. Itachi's end of our acquaintanceship was not my business. I mean, it was nice to have friends. Itachi's closest friend was named Shisui, as I recalled. Uchiha Shisui's death had given Itachi the Mangekyō. Poor guy.
Itachi's best friend was still alive, and that was what I'd wanted to hear.
But beyond that . . . the thought might be arrogant, but I couldn't risk getting much closer to Itachi. He needed that Mangekyō if he wanted to survive. If he wanted Sasuke to survive.
For once, I would listen to my father and stay away from my Uchiha friend.
And no, I didn't know when Uchiha Itachi had suddenly become a close friend. When I'd put myself in his shoes, perhaps?
I mean, he kept them pretty clean. . . .
.
"Wakana-san."
I turned my head as the irritating boy straightened from his crouch. "I thought we agreed not to see each other?"
His face did that thing where he was amused but refused to show it. I smiled wanly. "What, you mean my father didn't discuss his favorite assassination techniques with you? I thought that was why you haven't said hi recently."
A small glimmer of memory sparked in his eyes. I grinned. "Daddy will have my head when he finds out about this." They won't even be able to find yours.
"I need a favor," Itachi said.
"Fine."
He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even told you what it is yet."
"Mmhmm." I toyed with my scarf, wrapping it around my fingers. Any favor he would ask would be something well within my ability, and considering Itachi was a fastidiously loyal, competent ninja, he wouldn't joke around for no reason. My attention returned to the view of the village from the bridge we were standing on.
"Very well. I will inform my father of our engagement immediately."
It was a good thing I was already leaning on the railing. That way when I burst into a hysterical fit of coughing, I didn't have to double over much further. This would be an awful way to die, the rational side of me observed. Also, that wasn't really all that funny. Perhaps if it had been aimed at Suzume.
Once the laughter toned down, I fought my face into a less-strangled position. "The favor, please. I do have to be at the Academy in a few minutes."
"Sasuke," he said.
Most of my nerves died right there. He wanted me to keep an eye on Sasuke! I'd failed. My friends were going to die.
"I want you to henge into me and escort him to the Academy for the next week," Itachi said anti-climactically. Too bad for him that I knew him better than that. Not to mention his family background.
"Why would I? Both of your parents know who I am."
His breathing hitched at that. "I do not want my father to suspect anything. If I pick him up after classes, Sasuke will return early enough that Father will still be working. Mother will not say anything. She likes you."
"I like her, too," I retorted, sifting through the list of admissions.
Itachi would be occupied with missions. He wanted to imply that he was still in the village. He wanted this message to go to his father, which could only mean their relationship was deteriorating. I frowned. "Is Daddy giving you the long-distance solo missions?"
He glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers, before dismissing the two cats in a nearby tree and approaching the railing beside me. "I have been undergoing training for the rank of ANBU captain. Much of it does not involve field work."
I didn't really care how much of a genius he was. "Was that recent, or is that why you were here while Daddy was gone?"
"He was on official Konoha business," Itachi hedged. "I co-captained the squad while he was away." This remarkable frankness reminded me of another minor detail.
"So, if I'm supposed to be you taking time out of your busy ANBU schedule, what should I wear?" I shifted. "Because I'd never mimic an ANBU. That's treason. Not to mention common sense."
"You are a child, Kana. When did treason become a factor?"
Despite the discomfort I felt, a smile quirked at my lips. "You mean, when did common sense become a factor? I was practically raised by ANBU. I don't want to have to explain this to any of them. After all, what happens when there's an emergency and they find me instead of you?"
"Wakana. I need you to do this."
"Itachi, I'm pretty sure I need to not do this. I've had enough of getting in trouble." Although all I really had to worry about was Grandfather, who was probably sitting at his desk watching us right now. No worries there. No worries from this end at all, really.
I wasn't going to have a massacre on my conscience.
Hopefully.
"Please, Wakana. For a friend."
I sighed. "Morning, afternoon, or both? What time does he leave your house? You always leave your mask off, right? Because I don't want to have one in my possession. I'm not in ANBU."
"Thank you."
I sighed again. "Why don't you wait and see if your dad figures this out before you say that."
"You would not allow him to."
I rolled my eyes. "Clearly, you know me better than I know myself."
.
True to Itachi's statement, I did not let his father come close enough to notice anything. Fugaku, like most members of his clan, was not a sensor. Since I'd memorized Fugaku's heartbeat the day he'd dropped by, I didn't have much trouble steering Sasuke clear of "our" father. It didn't hurt that I was hardwired to avoid the man.
Sasuke and I were taking the scenic route back, which always involved my spending my hard-earned pocket money on rice balls. This was my clever way of avoiding the few Uchiha I recognized. And if Sasuke ever wanted to take the short route, I could offer to teach him Daddy's pervasive seal progressions. Or even a small jutsu.
I was halfway through a rice ball when something flickered in my aural periphery. Something tall and human-shaped that materialized in front of me with a peculiar flourish. An ANBU. But not one I recognized.
It were as if all my fears had converged until they'd become a real, live person.
In my cool and collected role as Itachi, I stepped in front of Sasuke and gave the ANBU a bland expression.
The ANBU coughed, choked on the cough, and attempted to regain his first impression as a professional murderer by squaring his shoulders. "Uchiha-san, you have been summoned to the Hokage's office."
I'd rather stab myself in the face.
Sasuke made a little sound of displeasure, reminding me of his continued existence. I was struck by how very avidly I wanted to stay with him instead of the alternative, say, imminent demise. It was easy to glance at him and explain that I would be along in a few minutes.
The ANBU, who didn't seem to realize I wasn't Itachi, tried not to perk up at this.
Sasuke, meanwhile, lit up. "But Niisan, isn't—"
"Come immediately," awkward ANBU decided before bailing out in a flurry of leaves.
I'm so dead, dead, dead, dead. Wow. Grandfather's going to send me to Ibiki and I'll never see Daddy again and at least I didn't have to pretend to do the Body Flicker, and I guess that ANBU didn't try to kill me, but why on earth is Itachi getting summoned? How do I contact him? Is this a summons for me, instead? Why would Grandfather want me? Did he find everything out?
"Come on, Niisan! Let's go home quickly."
Let's not, I countered, but there was no escape from this predicament. I'd have to visit the Hokage, if only to tell him he needed to find the real Itachi. The sooner the better.
"Good evening, Itachi-kun," Grandfather smiled when I trudged into his office. I dropped into the bow—an action I'd never performed for him before—and waited.
"You're not wearing your mask," he commented after a minute.
I stared at the floor, trying my best to wait for the confrontation. I had walked through the familiar building, not hopped in through the window. I was wearing ANBU gear but no mask. I was seriously confused about my place in life. "Your floor has scuff marks."
Grandfather burst into laughter. My cheeks burst into flame. "My, Kana-chan. My subordinates have looked at that floor for years, and not one of them has seen fit to inform me of that detail. Is it still serviceable?"
"Give me a minute," I mumbled, quite content to watch the floor forever. There were muddy footprints, smudged footprints, shreds of paper, senbon that had been neatly filed down, an inky stain with Konohamaru's handprint, the odd bloodied thumbprint in a few faded summoning arrays. . . .
"How are you feeling?" the Hokage asked keenly.
What felt like a roomful of air flew out of my lungs as I allowed myself to slump. "What does that have to do with anything? It's how you're feeling that matters right now."
"And how do you think I feel?"
"Upset," I mumbled, joining my fingers to release the henge. Grandfather shook his head. I pulled my hands apart.
"I didn't call you here to reprimand you, my dear. I wanted to talk to you."
"Well," I said defensively, horribly aware of the funny colors manifesting in Itachi's face, "he asked me to do this. I didn't want to. I don't know why I listened to him."
Grandfather smiled at me fondly. "You're doing it," he explained, "because you are his friend."
Sure, let's go with that.
"But," he continued, "because he is your friend, I want to ask you to take it one step further."
Wait, back up. This was Grandfather's idea? He'd wanted me to fake being Itachi? Is he the reason I learned the solid henge in the first place? What if he told Itachi to show me that hand seal, and he's known this whole time, and he had Gai take me to Isami, and I'm only in kunoichi class because of Kiyomi, and—
"Calm down."
Yeah, I guess that was a bit too much conjecture. Even if someone wanted to micromanage my life, they wouldn't be able to predict what I'd do with it. There was a chance Grandfather had planned some of those events. Much more likely that they'd been simply chance, though. Okay, I'm good!
"I want to you eat supper with Itachi's family."
"What's that? You want both of our fathers to kill me?" I coughed. "With all due respect. Hokage-sama. Since I'm Itachi and all." I paused. "Only I'm not. And I'm not an ANBU. I don't like taking risks, Grandfather."
"It will hardly be much of a risk, Wakana-chan." It's funny how the most innocuous of statements are actually the scariest ones.
"After all, you've always seemed like you'd be suited for chakra mimicry."
.
Grandfather released me an hour past midnight, which of course gave my day a very auspicious beginning. I climbed into bed the instant Wildcat unlocked our front door. Well, not quite at that instant. I was in the mood to use the substitution jutsu (Wildcat had been in Grandfather's office when I'd used mimicry the last few times, so not much risk of exposure there), but I was rather tired. It had been easy to trudge home in the miraculous solitude of night.
"How are you so quiet?" I asked my escort.
"Practice," he replied testily. "No thanks to you."
I glanced sideways at his legs, then angled my face upward toward the pale glow of his mask. "Can you teach me?"
"No."
Urgh. Bothersome man. He'd probably made himself harder to hear just to spite me. Not fun enough criticizing my mimicry? Fun, meet Wildcat. The ANBU with a glare that rivaled my kunoichi class teacher's.
"Bed," the ANBU commanded, reaching for the front door's seals and locks and snorting dryly as I considered the aforementioned substitution jutsu.
"Have fun keeping watch," I shot back. He twitched, but evidently decided not to kill me. Score one for both of us.
The next thing I heard was Kato knocking over a box of weaponry as he opened the fridge.
Apparently I was not dreaming. Odd. Oh, it was morning already. I'd made it to bed, then. Huzzah.
"Maybe Kana can help me sort these," my younger brother muttered, scraping metal across the floor as he returned everything to the box. "She might know something about special poisons."
"I don't," I said from my new perch in the doorway. "I'm sadly uneducated."
He looks so much like Daddy, I thought. He's growing up so quickly.
Kato cocked his head. "Don't fancy weapons have seals on them?"
"Some do. Not those ones. They might have some sort of chicken scratch, but—" I squinted. "Wow, it takes talent to write that badly. I should take notes."
The pathetic handwriting turned out to be partial lists of ingredients, but even with that knowledge, we had no idea how to replace the weapons correctly. Ah, well.
Kato pulled two servings of rice out of the fridge and we ate them methodically. "How's school?" I asked.
He made a face. "You should know. You're in it." Instead of going on to complain about our most recent round of tests, he changed the subject. "How come your handwriting is neater than Daddy's?"
"I've had longer to work on it," my mouth responded easily. It was true—that desire had been around ever since I'd first picked up a pencil. Truth be told, I hadn't worked my way back up to par yet. Perhaps in a few years. "Daddy says I never drew pictures like most little kids do." Admittedly, he had said no such thing. I would be surprised if he'd even noticed. Still. "What makes you think Daddy's handwriting is messy?"
He cited the various weapons we'd just collected, but I shook my head. "No, that writing doesn't fit him at all. Daddy's too meticulous for that."
"Whose was it, then? It looked kind of like yours."
I paused. "Really?"
"Like how you write at the Academy."
A warm, pleasant feeling crawled up my back at the flattery.
"I could barely read either one," he continued.
I smiled helplessly. "I try."
After we finished eating, we did our morning regimen of stretches and went to the Academy. While Kato darted off to play with his friends, I went to the Uchiha residence to find my pretend brother.
The day went on pretty normally. I escorted Sasuke home before returning to wrestle my own brother away from the playground. When we got to our house, I practiced chakra mimicry until I was bouncing off the walls from it.
Wildcat materialized as the sun began to set, but instead of glaring at me he went to find Kato, who had a special grandchild supper invitation from the Hokage to occupy him while . . . while I ate at Kiyomi's. As. If. "You didn't tell me that," Kato commented as he followed Wildcat to the front door.
I never really made excuses to Kato. He'd always known that I disappeared, and that I often stayed up late. A wave of fondness ran through me as I remembered that he'd always known the most about me, and he'd always kept my secrets unfailingly. I didn't want to deceive him for nothing. I waved goodbye, instead, and tried not to think about how accurate the gesture was.
Alone, I went through my ritual for mimicry and basked in the utter weirdness that was someone else's chakra.
The sun was half gone by the time Wildcat returned, glaring his special glare. "Here," he barked, throwing me a set of Uchiha wear. He snorted as I went into the bathroom.
"What?" I asked.
"That's hardly necessary when you're already henged." Well, sorry for wanting privacy!
I scowled at the mirror as the henge slipped unexpectedly. I pulled on the oversized outfit and quickly formed another henge of Itachi. "I wanted to make sure about the fabric," I covered.
Wildcat snorted again. "Quit stalling and drop the henge before you lose it. You'll never be able to hold it with foreign chakra."
Performing a jutsu with mimicked chakra takes a great deal of practice, Grandfather had informed me. Chakra was a very broad spectrum. Itachi's wasn't so different from my own, but I was new to the technique and shouldn't attempt to perform jutsu.
I can try, I thought, but I could already feel the new henge starting to wear away. This, I considered, was interesting, because I could feel the foreign chakra adding little details to the henge. It wanted to keep the henge stable. And yet I wasn't Itachi, so it didn't want to.
Was chakra accustomed to its own body's individual pathways, or did it actually have to be in the right body? Did it still have to be actively being produced? What kept my chakra from turning into his, or his into mine? Did chakra even have a fundamental difference? It had to—otherwise, sensors wouldn't be able to differentiate it much farther than the basic elemental types.
I released Itachi's chakra from my system and felt the henge flicker and collapse with it. I formed another before Wildcat could snap at me, and this time, everything was purely my chakra and there was no trace of disintegration. I wonder if my chakra wants to henge into me or into other people. Unfortunately, I was on a schedule. I ran through the prescribed list of seals and grabbed the chakra-imbued necklace Grandfather had given me.
"I can't do it, Grandfather."
"Nonsense, Wakana. Concentrate on what it feels like. Your perception determines how accurately it will be recreated. You only have to match it to your perception."
Just listen.
"Time to go," Wildcat growled as I finished the technique's locking seals. I tucked the necklace back into my collar and straightened, which was pointless thanks to Itachi's flawless posture.
It's weird that holding a henge through the transformation was easier than forming one afterward. I vowed to change that.
"Will you be following me?" I asked.
Wildcat snickered under his breath but said nothing.
Right, then. Time for me to slap on a basic henge, head toward "home," and be flayed alive. Not necessarily . . . in that order. I swallowed. "There's nothing wrong with my mimicry? I don't need to redo it again?"
He pointed at the door.
And all too soon, I was staring down a very different front door.
"Hurry!" Sasuke yelled, sweeping past me and into the house, where his speed was quickly subdued by Fugaku's presence. I slipped inside, following my younger brother to the sink and accepting the towel he threw at me. Mikoto caught my eye and smiled. Her simple joy of being with her family rang out, and I let myself relax.
If for nothing else, I could do this to give her some happiness. She was my mother for this moment. I could brush aside the concerns of ANBU and whatever else might possibly be stressing me and let myself live in this one moment.
"How is ANBU going?" Fugaku asked gruffly.
"My missions have been successful," I replied, refusing to dwell on just how different the clan head and his wife were.
"Good." And even when we knelt and Mikoto began asking how everyone's day was, he didn't see a need to do much more than eat. He was content, stern as he appeared to be.
Sasuke glanced at Fugaku and me nearly every ten seconds, even though Mikoto was the one asking careful questions. My respect for the Uchiha woman grew, but I couldn't let her know that. All I could do was eat her food and answer her questions when they came. And, of course, deflect Sasuke's.
"Will you help me with target practice tonight, Itachi-niisan? You said you would when you have time."
Ugh, I liked Mikoto's questions better. Hers didn't trigger a conflicted sense of guilt. Because while Sasuke would benefit from time with his brother, I wouldn't be able to help with his weapon throwing skills. If it weren't for Itachi's personality trait of elusiveness, I would have thought I was the reason Sasuke complained about the lack of attention from his brother.
I started to say something apologetic, but Fugaku cut in. "Not tonight, Sasuke. I've called an emergency clan meeting so that your brother can finally attend."
. . . But this had been going so well.
"I apologize, Father, but the Hokage has requested my presence within the hour."
"The Hokage can wait. This is your family."
I bowed. "Father, I am an ANBU. I cannot simply—"
He made his opinion pretty obvious. "Don't make excuses. Your first duty is to us."
I was such a good person for not rolling my eyes. Instead, I bowed my head and accepted the statement. Until everyone's attention left me, that was.
Don't panic; it's not worth panicking over. I'm Itachi and I need to keep my chakra regular. Just listen. And listen for Wildcat.
Father discussed current events and how they related to us. Like Hatake-san, he brought up the upcoming Chūnin Exams. Uchiha Eiko was ready, he commented, but he saw no reason to allow her to go. Sending a female Uchiha to Kiri was not the safest idea. True enough.
Interesting, I was instinctively switching familial words. Good.
Just listen.
"Go wash up," Fugaku-Father said eventually, "and be ready in five minutes."
Never had I wished so hard for Wildcat to show up before. I couldn't risk a chakra flare, and members of the clan were strolling past the house on their way to the meeting. I decided to make a break for it as Sasuke, but Father caught me first. "Let's go."
Let's not. But I followed him obediently up the path and into the crowded meeting room, where I managed to procure a space near the door. Father went and called for order.
Eiko was the first order of the day, interestingly. She was informed that clan techniques were not to be used in a public, potentially hostile situation. When she promised not to use clan techniques, the explanation grew a bit more detailed. The clan kind of wanted her to return. Other villages tended to be greedy.
As the discussion moved on to different things, my mind drifted to the exciting world of hunting Wildcat. When I couldn't find him, I sifted through the relatives kneeling around me. Yasahiro was with the other elders, of course. Kiyomi was beside her parents on the other side of the room. Most of my other acquaintances were scattered around, too.
I listened to the little conversations between neighbors.
"Did I tell you that my summons just had three more litters?"
"Raiden-kun, I can't believe you failed that quiz."
"Stop stalking Shisui! So what if you can't stare at him every meeting? No, Itachi's too young. Quit it."
Wait, Shisui wasn't here? Shame, I wanted to—Shisui wasn't here.
What happened when both Shisui and Itachi weren't at a meeting?
Please, I prayed. Pleasepleasepleaseplease don't let that happen tonight. Please. Not tonight. Not now. Please don't make me be an alibi because of this. I'm not here as a cover.
"Itachi?"
I blinked at Fugaku, who raised his eyebrows. "As I said, it's time for your report on the village."
I stared at him, face blank as I buckled down on my sudden fear. I nodded an instant later, but his eyes had already hardened. Into the Sharingan, as it happened. I heard a dozen of his clansmen activate their own.
The thought struck me that a death might be happening tonight regardless.
One of the police force members, a blonde, affectionate-towards-children young man, spoke first. "What's the matter, chief? There's nothing strange about him."
"Cancel your technique," Fugaku snarled, and the game was up. And since he didn't fall for my subsequent ah-heh-just-dropping-a-minor-henge-to-hide-some-bruising attempt, I guessed it was all over.
Face burning, caught in the attentive gaze of more people than I wanted to count, I forced myself to let go of Itachi's chakra. I braced myself for a round of Killing Intent, and sure enough, it came. More than one, in fact. It was a secret clan meeting.
Fugaku blinked, apparently somewhat at a loss for words. "You. . . ."
Yasahiro's malicious eyes fixed on me. "Well, she is the daughter of the Copy Ninja." She burst out cackling. Meanwhile, I couldn't even swallow down the saliva in my throat. But who was counting?
"Explain yourself," Fugaku demanded.
Thanks for ruining my backup plan of pretending to be Itachi impersonating me, Yasahiro. "Please don't kill me," I said instead.
And Fugaku, terrifying, murderous Fugaku, rolled his eyes as his wife glanced his way. "Don't make me repeat myself."
"Please don't kill me," I pleaded again, already trying to work myself into the best possible light. "I just wanted," and with a sickening lurch I realized the inescapable hole I was about to dig here, "to find Itachi-sama."
I think half of the adults in the room reared back at the statement before remembering that this wasn't supposed to be humorous. I was a spy sent by Kakashi or the village! And yet . . . nearly everybody was laughing hysterically under his breath.
I really hoped this was a bad dream.
I swallowed and kept going. "I haven't seen him for weeks, but I heard him tell Sasuke-kun that he would be here tonight and I really wanted to ask that since Daddy will be out of the village next week, maybe he could come help me mimic chakra, because Daddy just taught me how to do it, and it's really hard, but Itachi-sama's really smart, and I didn't mean to do anything but ask, but then he didn't show up, and I tried to leave, but I couldn't find him, and—"
"Enough," Fugaku cut in, looking vaguely disturbed at the sight of such a small creature's being so loud. "You were going to ask my son to help you with chakra mimicry?"
"Um, yes?" Time to not think about how Sharingans might just happen to notice that I'd henged my clothes (including one distinctive necklace holding my sample of Itachi's chakra) into a non-Uchiha, me-sized outfit. Not to mention, if they knew I'd been the one escorting Sasuke to school, I was about to find out.
Yasahiro glowered threateningly. "Sarutobi finally taught someone that technique?"
Oh, shoot.
I glowered right back at the old lady. "My Daddy knows hundreds of techniques no one knows about."
And somehow, public sentiment steered away from the obvious leap of Hiruzen and me to a much more underhanded route of me and Itachi. Namely, Kakashi's techniques and Itachi's link to the clan. Who knew, right? After all, most S-ranked ninjas wouldn't be stupid enough to teach dangerous jutsu to their kids.
Fugaku told me to stay out of his family's business for a few minutes and then sent me home with Eiko to escort me.
I listened to her leave as Wildcat burst in the back door. He was blunt. "Are you insane?"
I sincerely hoped he was kidding. "Sorry," I muttered, "are you upset that I got out alive?"
"Not you, you little fool. There was a clan meeting! Were you trying to kill her?" He reached inside my sleeve and pulled something flat out, tucking it into a pocket before I could react. It looked like a complicated seal.
"Did you just—" I paused. "Really?"
"Be quiet," he snapped. "I need to see if they put anything in your system. Are there any gaps in your memory?"
I frowned. "Shouldn't you ask the person you were just talking to?"
"If you're going to evade a question, why not be forthright?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you insult the Hokage?"
"He—" His Byakūgan narrowed at me, but that whole concept was not new today. "This is why I hate watching you."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, you did. Maybe."
"You're a headache," he growled. "But since you're acting worse than usual, I'll be kind and assume it's not your fault. Are you exhausted?" A suspicious hand made its way to my shoulder.
"Do I look—" I choked and doubled over. "What—what—" What kind of fire had just burned me alive?
"There was definitely strange chakra in your system. Past tense."
I sat right down on the floor and listened to the sound of my betrayed heart.
Wildcat's smug voice changed to annoyance. "Stop that. Your body is used to sustaining jutsu and that didn't hurt. I'm not cruel." But then his breath caught and he began spewing language that made me wish I'd been rendered unconscious. I coughed pointedly. And uncontrollably.
Wildcat's next words, unfortunately, were sickening to both of us. "I just burned mimicked chakra out of your system. Not Itachi's." He growled. "What did those Uchiha cupcakes do to you?"
As I recalled, they hadn't lowered their polite, appropriate use of the language. As I recalled. Obviously I didn't remember whatever had led up to my mimicking some random Uchiha's chakra. Passing out the Hokage's secret jutsu? Covering up a Sharingan memory wipe? Honestly, what worried me most wasn't the gap in my memory, but the fact that the early part of the night seemed to be unaltered. How could that possibly be suspicious? "Great. Should I throw up now, or wait until later?"
"You must have released it poorly."
"Great, great. Put the blame on me."
He scoffed. "The listening seal negated the instant you stepped into the Uchiha shrine. I couldn't do anything without raising suspicion. I couldn't see or sense you at all. We're completely blind on this one."
"But there's . . . got to be evidence. What about that chakra?"
"It doesn't matter. Any of their jōnin could have altered a five-year-old's memory with a Sharingan. You're too young for it to be noticeable." I took offense to that. "Besides, if they were smart they would have had you mimic his chakra before he did it. Any trace is gone now."
My hands reached up to cradle my face. "Could you . . . just carry me to bed? I'm tired."
"You never are," he muttered, but he cradled me to him before tucking me into my bed. "Be safe."
I released the henge making Itachi's clothes small and me-shaped (the one thing that had gone right this night) and kicked them to the floor in a final attempt at composure.
Then I kind of gave up on composure.
.
"We have enough to get into a Chūnin Exam?"
"Suzu-chan, we've discussed this. We have enough to get a pair of prime seats."
"Really?"
"Well, I don't think so. Maybe if we travelled without a ninja escort and charged double for the decorative seals. I know we'd have enough if most of the gag tags get approved."
"Isami-chan, I'm sorry, but I'm still not going."
"But, Suzu! Is it your boyfriend? I'm sure I can get Mom to hire him as an escort. She can pull in favors. There's no reason for you not to come!"
"I don't have a boyfriend; you know that. I can't come with you to Kiri. I'm sorry. Look, I should go home."
"You mean to the Uchiha compound with your boyfriend?"
"Isami-chan, believe me. I'm not about to do that. Write me if you need anything restocked."
"I will . . . I'll tell you everything."
"See you soon, Isami-chan."
"Write me all about your boyfriend, Suzu-chan! Bye."
"Pfft."
.
Pakkun and I were moping around the neighborhood when a familiar heartbeat came hurtling down the street.
"Niisan!" the boy called, windmilling himself to a halt.
I could have slapped myself. It's habits like this that get you in trouble, Kana! Next time we'll just stay inside and make seals, deal?
Although talking to an Uchiha was the last thing I wanted to do right now, I nodded at the kid.
He continued his mad rush, albeit this time in a different fashion. "When you said just now that redheaded girls are the prettiest, what did you mean? You said you'd explain. No, wait. You said not to mention that."
He wouldn't—he would.
Sasuke blushed. "Sorry. You said you'd explain, and you said to wait until tonight, but you looked upset, and I—"
I stared back at him, equally speechless. "Um, ask me again tonight. Goodbye, Sasuke."
He cocked his head. "See you later, Niisan."
Huh?
Tonight?
.
"Do you have your toothbrush?"
Kato rolled his eyes. "Yes, you packed it for me. And an extra. And Daddy's. Quit worrying. We get to help with an escort mission!"
Isami shouldered her pack and glanced at the various members of the Hatake family, the oldest of whom hadn't appeared yet. Probably because Gai had only just given up on administering group hugs. Kakashi is a wise man.
Said parent materialized in front of us and glanced Gai's way with a shudder. "All right, let's go, team."
Our little group trudged out of Konoha's gates ("Suzu-chan, why didn't you come see me off?") and into the mess of trees that called itself a forest. I watched the gates until they stopped flashing through the trees.
Funny how those gates had become my life.
Funny how leaving them behind meant the world to me . . . and yet, I would have given the world to go back and make everything right. Maybe.
.
.
~Kiri: the ninja village in the Land of Water
Augh, I'm back! It feels like a lifetime has passed . . . and I guess all else aside, I do have a bit of news for you guys.
First, I've published a side story for this one! It's called Handling Hatake. Alternate ideas included "Hatake Happenings," "Hatake Hiatus," and "Helping Hatake." Or I could have just gone for Heh, Heh, Heh, I suppose. My trolling plans continue. I mean! Feel free to head over and check it out. Yeah. You might like it.
Second, I put up a new poll for input on what people want to read! Mostly for Handling Hatake, but I can take a hint. If you have requests, you can always bug me (no promises), but a poll is pretty nice, too, right?
Third, I'm stealing an idea from someone! One of the clever authors on this site, whose name coincidentally eludes me right now, PMs a short, chapter-specific extra to reviewers. I'll be doing this for future chapters, too. So, you're warned!
Last, did you know I'm revising the first chapters? If there's one thing that's been made clear over the years, it's that they need revision. Especially the fifth chapter. Honestly, I think that chapter gets the most reviews, and most of them say something like "huh?" Anyway, I'll keep you guys posted.
Which person just barely managed to beat the 150k view mark? This person! :)
Anonymous replies in chronological order: Guest (Aw, you're quite welcome), Margaret (Glad you think so), Guest (Thanks for reviewing!), Guest (Heh, I'm only good at criticizing the things I love. When I've made them, at least. Thanks for your very decent review!), Guest (I did try. But, yeah. Nope), Guest (Thanks!), Anonymouse (Mikoto's a loving mom, eh? As for teams, I agree with you, for the most part. But we'll see what happens), Guest (I had fun writing them. :) Glad you liked them), nina (Just did!), Guest (Aw, I'm happy you said something. Thanks!), Imogen (Glad to get you addicted. Unfortunately, FFN blocks links and similar things. If you want to contact me, just use my FFN username at gmail dot com. Or spell yours out in another review. I hope you see this!), flyingpomsky (Cackle. Yes, they're stuck with each other now, aren't they?), Jessica (Sure it's not April 1st? ;) Oh, there is a twist. Just no one's noticed it yet. And yes, readers, I'm probably talking to you), Guest (Aw, thanks! Here you go), lissywashere (Wow, I'm impressed. I mean, that's how long I've been around, too! Thanks for being there . . . and sticking with me), natsukokyoko (Heheheh . . . what a reflection on yours truly), and Guest (You're welcome! Hope you liked it).
And now for the obligatory pun, which I'll try to make beta than last time. No? Well, my thanks to darkhairedbabe, regardless. Crediting betating!
This chapter's short is a series of what-if's about the winners of the jōnin sensei poll.
By the way, Good Omens wrote a short for this story! Chapters 25 and 26 of "Speaking of Alternate." They're adorable. Go read them. Kudos to Good Omens for being the first to make something for this fic.
Now, then, what do we think of Kiri? Anything yet? Guilty until proven innocent?
Because I'm sure some sort of opinion will crop up.
Happy Christmas! Happy other things, too.