F I V E

SECRETS

Yahiko was sure she would punch him. God (if one even existed) knew he deserved it. In fact, seeing her here, like this, with all of them, he kind of wanted to punch himself.

He shouldn't have antagonised her – and he really shouldn't have hinted at his full set of skills – but he couldn't help it. He'd wanted to prove, even if only to himself, that he did still know some things about his past friend. At this point, Konan had more inside jokes and history with Tekka than him – and even though he'd told Nagato he wouldn't be affected by her, the truth was that he'd never expected to see her, let alone be lumped onto her team. And, clearly, the real truth was that he'd lied to Nagato – because he'd already compromised their plan with his silly spike of jealousy.

Yahiko took a deep breath. Take inventory, he reminded himself.

So he'd made a mistake – but only a small one. He'd learn from it; since he clearly couldn't trust himself around her, he'd keep his distance and put as much space as he reasonably could between them.

Besides, clever as she was, there was no way she'd pick up on what his techniques really meant. Thankfully, the Sharingan users were truly out of commission after their sparring match and had missed most of it (and of course Konoha would put three fucking Sharingan's on this team to keep an eye on him).

Konan eventually blew out a breath, her expression a mix between exasperated and frustrated; her blue eyebrows were knitted together, hazel eyes fixed onto him, lips twisted to the side. Her chin stud caught the light (and he still hadn't really gotten over the shock of that). It only lasted a minute – but for a brief moment, she wasn't the composed leader she had been up until this point.

Then that window into her soul slammed shut; her face became inscrutable once more. She was back to being the Konan he didn't know from Adam. Yet her tone, when she spoke, held respect. "Not bad," she said. Finally, she smiled. "Not bad at all."

With a whip-like movement, she threw something at him – he started, instinctively catching it, his mind only realising a millisecond later that perhaps it would've been better to avoid whatever she'd thrown – when his fingers wrapped themselves around a soft cloth.

Yahiko glanced down, frowning. Recognition finally dawned. "This is…"

"A leaf headband. Standard shinobi wear." Konan's smiled evolved into something brighter, her hair and eyes dancing in the sunlight. "Welcome to the team."

xx

Konan found him stumbling aimlessly around the village later that evening. Unlike Kakashi and Tekka, who had both gone home to rest up for the start of their journey tomorrow, Konan and Yahiko had been drained, but not significantly injured, after their own match.

The effervescent setting sun stained the sky with pink, red and orange, the light of a drowsy day spilling through the streets of her village. Yahiko wore simple black clothes; pants, t-shirt, boots, with typical shinobi bandages wrapped around his wrists. Even so, he far from blended in; it wasn't just the outrageous colour of his hair, it was the energy enveloping him. Konan didn't know if he truly was a genuine shinobi struggling to adjust to a new city, or if there was more there than met the eye, but one thing was certain; Yahiko was no first-time fighter.

Not for the first time, she wondered what exactly had caused him to defect, what that final straw might've been – and for the first time, her curiosity was borne of something more than the mere desire to ensure her village's security.

Yahiko spotted her before she could decide whether or not she wanted to be seen. He offered her a polite smile, it's distant cordiality different from the welcoming way in which he'd grinned at her earlier in the day.

She crossed her arms, moving towards him. "Everything all right?"

"Of course," he replied. His earrings – as dark and nondescript as his clothing, caught her eye again. As did a lighter, brighter metal – a thin chain that wrapped it's way around his neck and disappeared under his shirt. "Yourself?"

"Fine." She paused, hesitating. He'd won earlier, but he'd never claimed his favour. Yet if he wasn't going to bring it up, neither was she. And as the seconds stretched by, it became clear he wasn't going to bring it up. "Rest up," she finally said, ignoring a small sense of disappointment. "We'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow and travelling quickly. I'll brief you all further on the mission as we move." Konan bit her cheek, then added, "I assume you know it's dangerous?"

"The mission or your company?" Yahiko joked, rubbing his wrist ruefully.

She looked at him sternly. "We might not all return. Are you really okay with that?"

For a moment, Yahiko looked like he might step a little closer. Yet when his feet finally did move, they carried him backwards, the space between them widening. He looked determined. "I'm more than happy to help the village that Master Jariyah hails from. Without him, I wouldn't even be a ninja. I'm loyal to his cause."

Konan accepted his words. They weren't the whole story, she knew, but the whole story was undoubtedly a very personal story. For him to be standing before her, Ibiki and Inoichi must know it. And is that not good enough for you? Konan asked herself. She mentally shook herself.

"You know, that old Pervy Sage might even back by the time we return," Konan informed him. They were walking together now, towards the end of the street, enough space between them to fit in two more people.

"It'd be great to finally see him again," Yahiko said earnestly, a touch of excitement in his voice.

Unbidden, an image popped into her head – a young Yahiko with a grumpy expression, dressed in Jariyah's infamous toad onesie, as the Toad Sage harped on about the balance of life. Konan giggled despite herself. Yahiko raised an eyebrow. "Nothing," she shook her head. "He's quite the character."

"There's no one like him," Yahiko agreed fondly.

Konan studied him a moment, then pointed at the local bar. It wasn't a good one, but it was close. "How about a drink? Consider it a welcome to the team sort of thing."

Yahiko looked wary. "Right before a mission?"

"Can't hold down one drink, big guy?" Konan teased, cheekily patting his abdomen before leading the way towards the establishment; she didn't check to see if he was following.

He was.

xx

Minato closed his eyes, momentarily centring himself.

The day had been nothing but a barrage of meetings, none really leading to anything substantial, but each one a political minefield none the less. Everyone – from the Elders to the Jonin Council to the dignitaries and Fire Lords – seemed to have separate agendas, none of them willing to compromise. The only point of agreement between the lot of them was that something strange was afoot; invariably, when this opinion was eventually voiced at each of the nine meetings he'd attended, the group would turn towards him, searching for an answer. Every time, he would simply glance back at them and sigh, because he certainly hadn't figured it out. At least, not yet.

He agreed that there had been something off about the village these past few weeks, maybe even months. Only today did he realise that perhaps other villages within the Land of Fire were also experiencing subtle changes in the way they were governed, and policies were made…

Which meant whoever was pulling the strings was certainly looking at the bigger picture.

Now, alone in Hokage Tower (save for the ever-present eyes of his personal guard), Minato sighed deeply for the umpteenth time that day. They called him a genius, but he'd never really allowed himself to believe it, let alone revel in the title. It was a small step from admired to arrogant, and then from arrogant to arse.

On impulse, Minato grabbed a scroll, sketching out a crude schematic, outlining his village and surrounding territories, but writing no words. He kept the names of those that concerned him within his mind only; first on his mental list were the other Kage, power-hungry and brash as they were, with their rumblings of villages being overrun with ancient monsters. Closer to home, the names of people warranting his attention only grew; Danzo, the Elders, the Uchiha, the Jonin Council, Orochimaru, Anko – and of course, the Rain shinobi who'd washed his hands of his own village. Minato hadn't been inclined to grant him sanctuary in Konoha itself, but the boy had arrived with a letter from the Toad Sage, who'd been incognito for several weeks now. Minato had been equal parts confused, and happy, to finally hear word from his former sensei. The letter had unmistakably been from Jariyah, down to his secret seal. It had begged for the boy to be welcomed in Konoha – which, Minato had to admit, was a naïve sentiment from the get-go. Such naivety was usually unlike Jariyah, but it certainly seemed as though the Sanin was found of his former pupil.

Minato figured that once Jariyah found out what sort of mission Yahiko had been assigned to, he wouldn't be amused. And he would find out; that Sanin could sniff out any bit of information (when he wasn't distracted by… other pursuits). Unfortunately, Danzo hadn't given Minato much of a choice in the matter.

Overall, Yahiko seemed alright, and even though Minato had had his hesitancies in pairing the boy with Konan, he seemed to be keeping to his word and staying silent.

Still… there was something – or someone – missing from his mental map… Some greater force at play, that Minato could only guess at.

Suffice to say, Minato was far from leaving the matter to rest.

xx

Konan quickly scanned the menu and ordered two drinks. "Sit," she motioned, signalling the seat opposite her. Yahiko looked around, still hesitating. She'd settled in a booth near the back; the place was called Shadow, and to match the theme was horribly lit.

"Relax, the place is cleaner than you'd think. Probably."

Yahiko sighed, finally sitting down, continuing to scan the evening crowd; mainly men, mainly out for an after-work drink. Not too crowded, but certainly not empty.

"I've known Jariyah for years now," Konan offered, once their drinks arrived. Yahiko paused mid-sip, before swallowing. If he wasn't a fan of the concoction she'd ordered for him, he didn't let on. "He always ordered that sake when he came here," she confided, wrinkling her nose. It certainly wasn't her drink of choice.

"How long since you've seen him, then?" Yahiko asked. At her look, he added, "You're speaking with a decent amount of nostalgia."

Konan smiled. "Oh, he's been travelling around for a few months now. Gathering information, really." She shrugged. "But I do miss him, if that's what you're asking."

"Those books of his, huh," Yahiko nodded sagely. "Eagerly awaiting a sequel?"

Konan knew he was teasing – still, she couldn't help taking the bait. "No way!" She smacked his arm lightly. "No, it's just… he was good with training. Always had a lot of jutsu up his sleeves."

Yahiko made a noise of agreement, taking another sip. Konan wondered if he knew the alcohol content of his drink was much higher than her own.

Konan rested her chin on her hands, studying Yahiko thoughtfully. He seemed to be having trouble meeting his gaze. "So he taught you oil-style techniques, huh?"

"Uh, clearly." Yahiko offered her a smile of his own. It looked sheepish. His cheeks were tinged red.

"But you know water style too – and maybe wind." She frowned. "How'd you know? How'd you know oil would be the best one to go with against my clone?"

Yahiko shrugged. "Instinct," he answered. Konan waited. "My oil style is strongest, actually. I thought it would have a better chance of hitting the clone than water."

Konan made a non-committal hum. "Lucky guess, then."

Yahiko's eyes were fixed on his sake. "What can I say. I'm a lucky guy."

Konan considered him. "You're… sad?" She realised, a little surprised.

Yahiko's face automatically broke into a grin. It didn't quite catch his eyes. "Not really. It's just, Jariyah once begged me to come here with him. Back when he was my full time sensei, years ago. Let's just say, I'm only now realising… how much I've missed."

Konan didn't know what to say to that. "You're… even weirder than I thought," she said, honestly. "But I like weird. In fact, I suspect this village specialises in weird. You'll fit in nicely here."

Yahiko laughed and this time it was more genuine. "But hey, I've learned hell of a lot more ninja skill out there than you have in here, so there's that, I guess."

Konan flicked his shoulder. She made sure to infuse a bit of chakra in it so it had a nice pinch. "You got lucky, bud. Lucky being the key word. I dare you to try win against me when I'm serious."

Yahiko finished his drink. "I could go another round. I'm still pretty steady on my feet."

Konan chuckled. "Then you clearly haven't drunk enough." She waved her hand, catching the bar-tender's eye. "Another two over here!"

xx

Tekka's dinner with his family was, if possible, the most awkward meal they'd shared together since that day.

Tekka hadn't known what his parents would make of his wounds. Konan's clone had healed him to the best of her abilities, and had deemed him well enough to stay out of the hospital, but he was far from his baseline. He had changed into long pants and a long-sleeved t shirt to hide as much of his injuries as he could, despite the humidity of the evening. He'd even considered putting on a face mask before deciding it was too reminiscent of that jerk Kakashi.

It wasn't enough. The moment he entered the dining room, his mother's sharp eyes catalogued his injuries in an instant. She could've healed him, if she'd wanted to. Unlike Konan, she'd trained as a specialised medical ninja, one of the first to embrace Tsunade's philosophy. But she didn't say one word to him, merely offered him a stiff nod. Her eyes, once done roving over him, settled on the bowels of rice and meat placed artfully on the table.

Eat.

Tekka settled down, already resigned to the evening ahead of them. Thankfully, his father wasn't home yet – with any luck, he'd be working late and miss the meal altogether.

His sister, however, was young and brash and very much present. "Tekka, your face!" She gasped, pointing with her chubby toddler fingers. "What happened?"

Tekka's mother pursed her lips, but he ignored her. Instead, he focused his attention on his sibling. "Just a bit of training, is all. It's all part of being stronger, to keep this village safe. To keep you safe," he added, because she still looked concerned, and made sure to punctuate the 'you' with a soft poke of her belly. She squealed and started giggling, then caught sight of their mom's sharp expression. Her humour evaporated obediently.

"Well, as long as you're alright," she mumbled, resting her eyes on the table. Then she was peeking at him. "Are you?"

"Of course," Tekka lied. "Let's eat."

They ate the remaining meal in silence, as had become their new custom (at least whenever Tekka was at the table). Tekka had adapted to his new family dynamic, but his younger sister was too small to really understand what had happened and why. If his parents had their way, she never would. Tekka was too drained from arguing with his father to bother enlightening her yet. Maybe his parents were right, maybe it would be better if she didn't know the truth of the matter – the truth about him. It certainly hadn't brought him any comfort – whoever had said the truth will set you free clearly had never met the Uchiha clan.

The rest of the meal was silent, but passed by reasonably quickly. Tekka's mind, for once, was preoccupied with something else – or rather, someone. That loser Kakashi. He might've won, but really he'd lost – his Sharingan was pathetic, impressive enough to any layman ninja, but nowhere near as strong as a true Uchiha could bring it to be. And if Tekka had thought that would make him feel any better, well, it hadn't.

Perhaps it was because he'd let his mind wander that he didn't hear the sound of the door opening, the soft thud as his father took off his shoes and entered their living room.

"Ah, so you're still here, are you." His tone, however, cut right through Tekka. It always did that, and no matter how much Tekka pretended like it didn't, it always hurt him. Honor. If there was one thing he believed his life to be about, it was that. Growing up, he'd thought there was no act more honourable than serving one's clan. And despite the past few months, he still thought that – believed it. Which is why his father's next word caught him completely off guard. "Good."

Tekka almost choked. "Good?"

"Yes." His father nodded curtly. "Good. I do care about you after all. I still keep tabs on you. I've even heard that Hatake has been assigned to your team." His father's eyes lingered on his bruises, before he finally joined his family at the table. "Finish your dinner. But afterwards, we need to talk."

xx

Oh god, here we go again, Konan thought as Yahiko took another stumble. This time, thankfully, he didn't fall. He was fully leaning against her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other resting gingerly against her waist. It was as if he thought she was made of glass or porcelain or some crap like that; even despite his inebriated state, he seemed reluctant to fully lean against her.

"I can hold you up, you know," she reminded him, for the umpteenth time. "Relax. Just, uh, as long as you don't topple. You and gravity together, that's a bit too much."

"Evil," he groaned, his head warm against her shoulder and hair tickling her left ear. Konan was aware of every point of contact between them. And even though she barely knew the guy, nothing about his close proximity felt uncomfortable. "You're evil…"

"Excuse me! I'm the one helping you back to your apartment when you can barely walk in a straight line."

"After feeding me five of those awful drinks. I mean, I don't want to act ungrateful, but what the hell is wrong with Jariyah that he actually finds that horrible sake tasty?"

Konan laughed, despite herself. "Hey, I wasn't the one feeding you anything. I just shouted the newbie some well-deserved refreshments. You're the one who straight up drank the last two like shots."

"I think I was on a buzz from drink three. Big mistake." Yahiko wrinkled his nose, his lips pulling into a pout. "This was a big mistake. Next time, take better care of me Konan."

And Konan, for the life of her, couldn't quite explain the reasoning behind the little thrill that shot through her at his words. At the inexplicable familiarity in them. So, she didn't say anything at all. Instead, she helped him clamber up the stairs of the building that housed his apartment. It was right in the centre of town, well within view of Hokage Tower.

"That one." Yahiko pointed at a dark door. "That's home sweet home."

"Key." Konan held out her free hand (the one that wasn't wrapped around her comrade's back.)

"Huh?" Yahiko said, blinking.

"House key. There's no way you have the co-ordination to do anything other than collapse into bed."

"I'm fine. The coffee helped, I think." Yahiko made to move away, but seemed to lurch in place the moment he stood by himself. "Crap," he groaned, as once again Konan gave him a hand, steadying him gently.

"Sorry," she said, and she meant it. "If it makes you feel any better, Jariyah usually crawls his way home after drinking that much."

"Greaaat. One up on pervy sage." Yahiko fumbled, handing her a bronze key. "Thanks."

"It's a captain's duty to make sure her team stays whole," Konan said easily, unlocking the door for him. "Now rest up. You're going to have a hell of a hangover and hell of a trek tomorrow."

Yahiko grunted, moving to scoot past her. But Konan sidled in his way, blocking the open door. "Just… one more question," she added, meeting his golden gaze. This was it; the real reason she'd fed him all those drinks. The reason she'd do it again if she had to. If he really was a spy, they'd be good as dead once they set off with him. She figured, for him to be standing here, he couldn't be. But she still had to hear it for herself. "Why'd you come here? To Konoha. Why'd you leave Rain?"

Yahiko swayed forwards a few steps. He opened his mouth. For a second, Konan thought he'd just move past her and mumble the same generic line ('I came here for Jariyah, to escape the civil fighting in Rain'). They both knew he was beyond lying now. If he said it again, this time Konan would believe him.

Instead, he brought his face close to hers. Konan suddenly found herself captivated by his face, his eyes, his lips… Smiling ruefully.

"Honestly? To see you." He tilted his head, glancing down at her from his lashes, giving her a gentle kiss, on the cheek. Brief, but electric. "Good night."