Fū swatted at a persistent fly buzzing around her neck.
"Leave me alone," she grumbled.
Fū was exhausted. Every step was plagued by increasingly aggressive insects and it had been three days—no, that was not quite right. It had to have been longer than that. Fū was sure that the moon—or the misshapen white blob—shrunk or at least changed shape with each passing night.
But that could be the exhaustion talking. After all, Fū was pretty sure she had hallucinated the last "sighting" of Taki searchers since jounin were not deterred by the growling of girls like her.
The forest she was currently traipsing through was packed with incredibly dense foliage. At the edge of a stream that Fū had literally stumbled into, she sank to her knees, cupped her dirty hands together beneath the water, and greedily drank. After several more mouthfuls, Fū found herself shocked by her reflection's appearance. The orderly strands of seafoam green looked like a dirty broom; a strand of sticky spider web trailed down her cheek, while bits of grass and debris poked out of her hair from all angles. Her nose already suggested her clothing smelled uncomfortably ripe and the grit under her fingernails was a sore reminder of how grimy she had become since running away.
"I don't think I can keep going," Fū mumbled glumly while picking at a scab on her knee from a fall earlier…sometime. "I'm out of food, lost, and with my luck I'm going to run into a bear that's hungrier than I am tired."
Out of vague curiosity, she wiggled her toes in her saturated sandals and hummed as they squelched noisily. Almost in a lull, Fū jerked slightly as her bijuu's voice tickled the far side of her internal senses.
I'm sorry I can't help more. Your body can only utilize so much of my chakra at a time before you require a respite. And while I could funnel more chakra to you at this time, I dare not do so unless a retrieval team catches up to us.
Fū unconsciously straightened and tugged on the hem of her tattered tunic.
"You got me out of there." Fū felt a pressing need to remind the voice inside her of that fact. And another sudden, inexplicable yearning to wash or—something. "I don't know what I would have done without you. Probably nothing."
You'restronger than you realize. I've watched you all this time, you know.
The image of the massive insect observing her made Fū feel a surge of gratitude.
"But...but—"
Fū staggered to her feet and swayed for a second.
"You took me flying! Even if it was only for a few minutes, I had wings! And…I felt your chakra helping me run faster. I've never moved so fast. Not even when I train my hardest. It was incredible, you know. It reminded me of one of my favourite books."
Why don't you tell me about it?
Fū blinked through her internal fog and struggled to make sense of the request.
"It was kind of a weird story, actually." Fū felt a modicum of guilt for not being more supportive. "Nothing special. Just a kid's story."
Fū, do you value your story less because it was intended for hatchlings? Do not concern yourself with feeling embarrassed over a story. And don't be ashamed of who you are and what you enjoy.
If she was not already exhausted, she might have wept from how powerful those kind words made her feel. And how they did not make her feel as small and helpless as everyone else tried to make her. A lot of adults cared about the status of their jinchuuriki, but no one had cared about Fū in a long time. Not even Fū's family wanted her around after she became the host for the Nanabi—No, she reminded herself stiffly. Choumei.
No one ever asked Fū about her interests or cared enough to help her run away. No one except—Choumei. Lucky Seven Choumei was what he called himself? Or was her bijuu a her?
Choumei cared. The least she could do was keep going. The least she could do was return the favour.
Fū talked. The words poured out like a dam breaking; she told Choumei about the child's story she liked; about a book about wood carving that she really didn't understand, but had read because she found it in a trash bin; and the adventure stories she liked to pretend she was part of.
Throughout it all, Choumei spoke rarely, but when he did, it was warm and lacked the callous judgment she was half-expecting to come her way.
It never did.
So caught up in her rambling, she never saw the group standing in a clearing watching her approach until she had ploughed right into the side of one of them.
"Oof!" Fū grunted, bounced off, and jerked backward in horror.
Shinobi. Not Taki shinobi. A man with dark eyes and scar tissue covering part of his face. Another man with shoulder-length brown hair wearing a bandana and a smile. A girl or a woman? Scowling, annoyed, and spattered with blood. And a man with sunglasses, black hair, and…
Fū? Do we need to run?
"Stay back!" She backpedalled.
"Twitchy little brat." The woman spat a bit of red onto the ground, crimson stains shining garishly against the white of her teeth.
Was she going to be killed here and now? Gutted like a poor fish?
"Give the kid a break." The bandana-wearing man sighed and took a step toward her with his hands extended.
"Shiranui?" The one with sunglasses started.
"Let me handle this."
Fū?! You're afraid. Do we need to go?
"Kid, you look like you're about to bolt," Bandana Man said with a low, honey-sweet voice. "Just calm down for a minute. I promise we are not going to hurt you."
"If you were a liar, you'd probably say the same thing," Fū rasped while blinking furiously as her vision spotted.
"Ugh, that kid smells pretty ripe. Good luck dealing with that, Genma." The woman snickered into her palm.
The man in front of her did not react or outwardly respond to the woman. Instead, Fū watched him fall into a lazy crouch and smile at her crookedly as he extended his hands toward her, palms up.
"You're absolutely right. You don't know me and you have no good reason to trust me. But I can tell you that I want to help you. Will you let me do that, kid?"
Bandana Man's voice was soft and his eyes were twinkling in a manner she had witnessed before, when adults looked at their children. Fondness. Kindness. Either she was being taken in by this man's mockery of sentiment or there was a chance he was being sincere.
Fū?
I think we're okay, she told Choumei. Then, to herself: I hope I'm not wrong…but I'm so very tired now.
Fū bit her lip, staring at the open hands and their beckoning fingers. Aware she must look quite the sight, she plodded a few steps toward Bandana Man, who was still smiling at her. Showing her poor luck was still at large, Fū tripped over a rock and fully expected to hit the ground.
Instead, she felt a warm body and arms around her. Around her! She had never expected that being held would be so warm and reassuring. Instead of panicking, Fū felt her last bit of strength fail and her eyes close.
"I like this," she slurred, but persisted. It felt important to convey this. "No one has ever…Thank you."
It might have been her imagination, but Fū thought the warmth became stronger and there might have been some sort of response, but she was beyond all that. Her body had cooperated long enough and now she needed rest.
Beneath the surface, Fū sensed Choumei's lingering worry and knew she should probably feel more insecure. But she just couldn't believe all that warmth had been a lie. She could not believe it.
Fū drifted to sleep.
"That amount of poison would have been lethal in minutes if I hadn't been here."
The bijuu's massive paws were pressed together and each of Kurama's tails were unnaturally coiled from his efforts. Minato was pacing the length of their grassy garden restlessly. Occasional words and phrases fell through the cracks of his mind: flashes and impressions of movement, flares of chakra...And here he was, helpless and incapable of raising a finger.
"But you are here. Someone tried to kill us. That bothers me more than I'm comfortable admitting, but I need to get out there and help. How long until I can wake up?"
"Don't get cocky. I've prevented the poison from taking root, but my chakra has exhausted your system. You may be capable of waking soon, but you'll be weak and in no condition to be of help to anyone unless that slug woman intervenes…Even then, you won't be able to do much for a few days."
"I suppose I should have guessed. Thank you for saving our lives, Kurama."
"What would you do if you could wake up?" For once, Kurama sounded thoughtful and almost introspective.
Irrationally, it added to Minato's growing disquiet.
"What do you mean? I would be helping, of course. I could—"
"You could use your Hiraishin? Oh, right. That jutsu is impossible to use until your body has developed and your chakra coils sync with my chakra. I guess that's out."
Minato wanted to object, but this blatant sarcasm was not something Kurama reverted to very often, so it caught him off guard. His sneering best friend continued to spew out a tirade of verbal displeasure.
"So, if the Hiraishin is off the table, why not elemental jutsu? Oh, wait, that's right! Even if you could pull off a few flashy jutsu—which you absolutely could not in your condition—but assuming you could, your affinities are completely different and your chakra manipulation and control are subpar at this time. Let's not even discuss how poison would interfere with your ability to mould chakra. Taijutsu? Certainly your kata are impressive, but they lack the strength, dexterity, or reflexes necessary to contend against anyone above or at civilian level. My chakra can only keep you alive at this juncture. And even that is proving a more trying task than I had anticipated."
It was difficult to sit and listen to his truest friend verbally eviscerate his skills. It was an even greater shame to know the bijuu was not wrong. His body was too young to be much of a threat to anyone. That did not mean he was useless; Minato had his mind and a previous lifetime's worth of knowledge at his disposal, but Kurama was right.
Minato was helpless. Helpless as he had not been since his previous childhood.
The orphanage he had lived in from birth had been overcrowded with war orphans like himself. Records were practically nonexistent, leaving Minato with no clues as to the identity of his parents or the circumstances of his existence. Konoha funded the orphanage, but in wartimes, the funds and foodstuffs became less frequent, and Minato spent most of his early days going hungry. Minato had never been resentful of his lot in life, but seeing the desolation in the eyes of the other children when another meal was skipped or replacement sandals were not available for feet that had become too large…
Minato hated it.
In those moments when he listened to children crying themselves to sleep, his heart changed.
A new dream had been born over the nights he curled up on his dingy cot with a patched blanket wrapped around himself and whichever child needed comfort the most
While clutching those raggedy weeping children, Minato vowed he would become a shinobi that could protect all the people he cared about. Someone who could put an end to conflicts and keep his people safe. Keep children from weeping in their beds as the body count rose and entire families were erased from existence.
Minato hated helplessness for that reason. And now things had come full circle.
And Kurama was right: there was nothing Minato could do.
"I don't like being helpless, Kurama."
"Now you know how I felt when Madara controlled me for the first time."
Kurama sounded so bitter, so angry, that Minato abandoned his pacing and rushed toward his friend. Instantly, Minato grabbed a hunk of hair and began scaling Kurama's fur; his weight was negligible and any tugging would feel like the skittering of an insect.
"You know I didn't mean it like that, Kurama." Minato gasped in exertion as he pulled himself level with Kurama's knee joint.
"And you know I didn't, either." The malevolence receded and a massive paw snatched him off his perch. Minato smiled unconcernedly as Kurama held him aloft so that they were eye to eye, red to red.
"This just reminds me of the day that Uzumaki bitch dragged me down and pinned me deep within her. I was helpless to stop Madara and I was just as helpless to stop the Shodai's wife from imprisoning me."
There had been a question on the tip of his tongue for over a decade now. For a long time, Minato had been too nervous to ask, but now seemed appropriate.
"Is it because of Mito that you hated Kushina so much?"
Minato knew it was a risk, but he also knew that no matter what his friend's answer was, he would not abandon Kurama.
"I swore I would never lie to you or cater to your emotions."
This was both Kurama's best and worst feature as a friend. But having someone to count on to always be honest was a rare prize indeed, in the world they lived in.
"And I vowed the same to you."
"Until you and I reconciled our differences, a jinchuuriki was nothing more and nothing less than a cell of solitary confinement, with the only occasional company being that of my jailer."
There was considerable resentment attached to Kurama's voice. Minato wrapped his arms around as much of Kurama as he could. It reminded him of the small children that he embraced in the orphanage under heavy blankets.
"In many ways, I was fortunate that I was left alone. Some of my siblings have been far less lucky in their prisons."
There was a long pause. The massive bijuu stretched languidly.
"I hated what your lovely wife represented more than I hated her."
Minato swallowed, but did not look away. Disagreement or not, Kurama was his friend and these were his feelings. Not unjustifiable from his perspective.
"A master of fuinjutsu is a master in creating prisons. Certainly, one could argue that there are a thousand more uses that are readily available in day-to-day life, but a student of seals inevitably is seeking greater power. And what greater power is there than leashing a power that does not belong to you and using it for yourself?"
For most of his life, Minato had been in control of his own destiny. Even when he had made the contract with the Shinigami, he had been in control. It was not the first time that he hated himself for condemning his friend to a lifetime sealed away. And this new life...Kurama had come along, but no one had asked him.
Releasing Kurama was out of the question until Madara had been laid to rest for good, but that did not mean it could never happen. Technically, Minato had already been blessed with a full life; this, here, was just extra time that a dead man did not deserve.
When the fighting was done, Minato could do the right thing this time. The cost of his own life to break the chains instead of creating them was worth it—Kurama was worth it.
"Kurama, you're my best friend and I love you." Minato struggled a bit as the fist tightened around his midsection and he smiled crookedly at the intense scrutiny he was facing. "When this is all over, I promise that I'll free you. You deserve better than this cage."
"No."
Minato had expected a protest, but not a flat-out rejection and the sudden rush of toxic, raging chakra that made him almost nervous as his friend's tails lashed out to bulldoze a few dozen fake trees.
"Kurama, assuming we both survive this, I'm going to let you go. You deserve better than this!"
"If we survive Madara, I'm staying with you. You and I will live out this new mortal existence together. I will prevent you from giving your jutsu stupid names and stop you from getting yourself killed. Whenever and however you meet your end, I will be there with you. And when you breathe your last, my chakra will disperse and though it may take a century, I will have my freedom at that time."
"You really want to stay?" he asked stupidly.
They were friends. In fact, Kurama was easily the friend that knew him better than any other. And while Minato had more friends than he knew what to do with, those he truly loved were precious few in number.
But when you love someone, the best gift of all is the willingness to set them free. But what happened when the bijuu you loved wanted to stay in jail?
"You're not a jailor, Minato," Kurama rumbled. "Even an idiot like you should realize that."
"After all these years together, you still manage to surprise me with how sweet you are."
The fist tightened and Minato flinched again.
"No infecting me with your human sentimentality."
Minato laughed at that.
"I make no promises, old friend."
Minato sank his fingers into Kurama's fur and channelled all his loving thoughts toward his furry comrade.
Maybe the promises he made in the dark were not lost forever. Minato could still follow that path and perhaps he could succeed now that he knew what failure looked like.
"You need to go."
"What's wrong?" Minato stirred uneasily. "I thought you said it was a bad idea."
"I can sense my yang chakra becoming active, which means Naruto needs you. If you can touch him, we should be able to absorb that chakra."
"Give me a boost!" Minato called, mentally preparing himself to wake up in a worst-case scenario.
"Minato, you won't regain consciousness for long. Make the most of it."
"I understand." Minato gritted his teeth as Kurama's corrosive chakra crowded his small body. "Thank you."
"What are friends for? Go, Minato."
"Take it out!"
"I can't. Doing so would cause you to bleed out faster."
"Kaa-san!"
"Naruto, s'alright. I'll be fine."
"Hinata."
"Y-yes?"
"Kaa-san!"
"Hinata, hold him as tight as you can. If Naruto grabs her, he may accidently make her worse."
Sasuke's ears began to ring, distorting the voices and disrupting his train of thought.
Everything was wrong. Nothing was how it was supposed to be.
Sasuke turned his head to the right.
Hinata had streams of tears running down her cheeks. The girl had her arms wrapped around a hysterical blond boy that was fighting her tooth and nail to escape. Naruto's face was screwed up, and the odd whisker marks on his cheeks seemed darker. Though Sasuke could no longer hear him, he knew he had to be calling out for their Kaa-san.
Perhaps it was just Sasuke's imagination—a trick of the light or something of that nature—but he could have sworn he saw flecks of red peppering Naruto's naturally blue irises.
Sasuke shook his head and grinded his teeth: the ringing was just getting louder.
He looked down.
Minato was blinking up at him owlishly. His friend's pallor reminded Sasuke of the time Itachi was in the hospital for two weeks after a mission gone wrong. Minato was hurt—had been poisoned?
Everything was wrong. The ringing was getting even louder.
Almost in slow motion, Sasuke watched his friend's drowsiness transform into alarm. Minato's eyes popped, his mouth started moving, and he rolled over to look to where Hinata had Naruto pinned down.
Sasuke turned his head to the left.
Itachi was statue-still with one of Kaa-san's arms slung over his shoulders. Mikoto's bloody mouth was opening and closing like a fish's and her eyes had begun to almost roll, while the tip of a blade was plainly visible nestled just under her bust. Sasuke looked away from the knife and felt his breathing stall a bit. Sasuke could see his brother's lips moving with his Sharingan focused elsewhere.
What was he looking at? Couldn't Itachi see that Kaa-san was badly hurt? Whenever he needed something, Sasuke always trusted his nii-san to handle things. But now Kaa-san was hurt, really hurt, and Itachi should be doing something. Anything!
Sasuke mumbled something that was meant to be his mother's name and bit his lip hard. Kaa-san's chest was moving fast like she had been running and Sasuke could almost count the individual beads of perspiration dotting her forehead. In fact, Sasuke watched two tiny droplets of blood drip from his mother's mouth and it seemed to him that they hung suspended in the air. But that was not quite accurate, either; Sasuke watched the blood descend and tracked their journey as the droplets changed forms, elongated, and—
Sasuke felt Minato moving—he knew his friend should definitely not be up, but he made no move to grab the other boy as he bumped into his side.
Sasuke's ears roared. His eyes stung. His body felt locked in place by an invisible force.
A shadow detached itself from the roof and was swallowed by the darkness they were sitting in. A person emerged. Someone that was no taller than Kaa-san, but definitely older than Itachi.
The shadow moved closer. Closer to Itachi. Closer to Kaa-san. Closer to all of them.
But nobody saw!
Sasuke swallowed. His eyes flickered to where Itachi did not see. Itachi's Sharingan was spinning and he was still looking toward Naruto and—
Kaa-san was hurt. She was maybe not going to be alright. Sasuke was not fine with that. Nothing about this was fine. And if Itachi let her fall…she would be hurt more. Possibly killed.
But there was a shadow that was not a shadow right behind them! Someone had to do something. Minato was hurt, and no one had seen. It was up to him now.
Sasuke scurried for a kunai that had fallen a mere couple of paces away. It had not lodged into any surface so retrieving it was a simple matter.
He picked it up. He turned. The shadow was nearly on top of Kaa-san and Itachi. Both of them were distracted by something.
Sasuke's eyes burned. The ringing in his ears became almost deafening. He raised the kunai.
The shadow turned. The lips did not move. The eyes were blank and there was no frown. No smile. Nothing was there.
Sasuke plunged the kunai into the gut of the shadow, stumbled, and fell forward as the blade sank into the shadow's flesh like it was butter. Sasuke's knees hurt from where they scraped rock, but Sasuke pushed himself up and—froze.
A woman stared at him with blood dribbling down a tanned cheek. Scarred hands cupped the kunai wound, but the woman's gaze held him in place. She stared at Sasuke without the slightest bit of accusation or anything. Sasuke's eyes roamed from the unfamiliar hitai-ate to the absolutely blank face and felt his ears roar.
Why are you looking at me like this? Why are you? Why?!
This expression was familiar and didn't make sense. The woman he had just stabbed was looking around like two-year old Uchiha Misako did. Like she was trying to understand something. Like there were no thoughts or feelings that could touch her.
Her body shuddered and went still. Her eyes were still looking at him, without blame or anger.
Sasuke backed away from the corpse blankly, staring wide-eyed, and felt himself scream.
"Kakashi, are we close?"
He nodded shortly at the singed Sannin.
Kakashi had been handing over an unconscious Ebisu into the care of Gai and a T&I team with the intention of tracking down Minato when Tsunade had appeared looking a little worse for wear and covered head to sandal in soot. Needless to say, Tsunade was of a similar mind and the duo had tracked—well, Kakashi had tracked while Tsunade threatened—their precious person.
"They're just up here."
When he had scented blood in the air, Kakashi had thought himself prepared for a terrible outcome. After all, Kakashi's life was a parade of them. Starting with his mother's death and ending with his failure to properly look after his sensei's living legacy. Kakashi knew he would always carry a piece of that self-loathing, that he would never fully rid himself of it.
A scream tore through the silence from just ahead, spurring the pair forward in a final burst of speed.
"There!" Tsunade shouted.
Kakashi vaulted down from the rooftop with Tsunade on his heels and felt his heart stutter in his chest. The Sannin sucked in a shocked breath behind him.
Uchiha Sasuke was nearest, standing over the body of a woman with a newborn Sharingan in his eyes and stark terror on his face. The dead woman at his feet wore the hitai-ate of Kumo and a strangely serene expression for a dead shinobi. Beyond that, Uchiha Itachi's horrified gaze was trained on his brother, but was prevented from moving since he was holding Mikoto upright—the handle of a blade sticking out the Uchiha matriarch's back.
It seemed they had arrived just in time to witness something else of peculiar interest. So much so that the hair on the back of Kakashi's neck was raised in alarm. Uzumaki Naruto's eyes were a furious red for all of two seconds, but bled back to blue just as Minato grabbed the boy's palms. It happened so fast that Kakashi was not exactly sure what he was seeing, but to his Sharingan, it looked as if Minato had absorbed Naruto's excess bijuu chakra. After that, Minato lurched and fell forward only to be caught by Tsunade, whose hand was glowing green even as she breathed in ragged, harsh breaths.
Kakashi wanted to go to Minato immediately, but he was already dropping down to make sure the Kumo-nin and the intruder were actually dead. Thank Kami for ANBU training to keep his panic at bay.
As he confirmed the two shinobi were dead, Kakashi spared a look for a blood-spattered Sasuke and found himself surprised by a sudden lurch of sympathy. Kakashi had been just about Sasuke's age when he found his father dead in their home.
It was not the same at all. Not really. Still, Kakashi was surprisingly sorry for this traumatized boy. But trauma victims and little brothers had to wait for later. Those close to death took priority.
Forcing himself not to check on Minato, Kakashi instead placed himself next to Mikoto and knelt behind her for a better look at the injury. Performing a quick seal, he wordlessly created a Kage-bunshin that instantly moved to take over the job of managing Mikoto's position.
"Sasuke."
The name was barely a whisper, but Kakashi picked it up with little trouble thanks to his keen sense of hearing.
"My Bunshin and I have this, Itachi. Go."
Itachi looked shaken but nodded once and then was instantly at Sasuke's side, enveloping the younger boy in a heartfelt embrace.
ANBU training required first aid and Kakashi was not squeamish, so he ran a finger over the entry would and leaned in to get a better whiff of the area.
"It's poisoned!" Kakashi's nose had never failed him and he trusted it now.
Reacting quickly, he ripped the blade out of the woman's back, ignoring the way she cried out as he guided her down. Instantly, he placed his palms over her abdomen and pressed down hard while the Bunshin raced away to summon additional help.
"Kaa-san!"
Naruto's panicked cries hit another part of Kakashi. Naruto had already lost Kushina, he did not need to lose another mother. Not so soon. Not ever.
"Tsunade, you're needed over here. Now!"
It took less than a second to register the fact that Tsunade had not reacted to his demand and that her body was purposefully angled away, face averted.
"Tsunade! Mikoto needs medical attention now!"
Mikoto gasped softly, the woman's undeniably beautiful face wracked by pain as her mouth twisted and her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
"Kaa-san!"
Naruto had finally escaped the Hyuuga girl's grasp and was rocking back and forth on his heels, barely an inch from Mikoto's face. A small piece of him loathed Obito's gift because he did not think he would ever be able to erase the image of a dying woman smiling so tenderly at Naruto as her bloody palm lifted to stroke his cheek. Somewhere behind him, Kakashi heard the smallest Uchiha's pitiful weeping and felt his own stomach roll.
"It's gonna be okay, Naruto. S'alright."
Kakashi's teeth clenched at the honest acceptance in Mikoto's voice. This was not alright.
"Tsunade!" Kakashi's furious refusal to lose another person kicked in. "Now!"
"I can't!" The terrified reply honestly derailed his anger for a second. "Shizune should be here soon! I can't help her!"
"What?" His incredulous reply was one half rage, one half desperation. "What the hell are you on about?"
"If I look at her, I won't be able to…I can't help her, Kakashi!"
What the hell are you talking about? That doesn't make any damn sense! What the hell? What—wait.
Suddenly, the answer hit him right in the chest. A topic Kakashi overheard Kushina and his sensei discussing shortly before their deaths. An exchange that Jiraiya caused. Something about—something about—blood.
Senju Tsunade, greatest living medical shinobi, was afraid of blood.
Kakashi looked down and felt his heart sink again as sticky redness oozed from the wound his hands were desperately covering.
"Tsunade, Mikoto is going to die if you don't get over here. I understand that there is an issue with the blood, but you have to ignore it and help. Please!"
His sensei's son stirred at that. Naruto turned, weaseled out of Hinata's grasp, and attached himself to Tsunade. To Kakashi's considerable alarm, Tsunade hardly seemed to feel Naruto's fists beating her back and shoulders.
The body beneath his hands convulsed almost gently and Kakashi felt his heartrate skyrocket as Mikoto's eyelids shuttered. If the poison did not kill her, blood loss certainly would. She needed treatment and she needed it fast.
"Help my mother, goddammit!" Naruto's tiny fist battered at Tsunade's nose, finally eliciting a reaction.
"Knock it off!" The words themselves were visceral and enveloped with fright. "I can't help her! Kami, I would if I could, but I can't. The smell of it alone is almost more than I can bear! She'll have to wait! I can't help her. I just…I can't help her!"
"You have to!" The cry came from behind them and was immediately smothered by an overbearing older sibling who shushed the youngest Uchiha with muffled words.
"Please, Tsunade-sama, please!" Hinata's small voice joined the litany of pleas. "I already lost my Kaa-san…don't let my friends down. Please."
"And what do you have to be afraid of, anyway!" Naruto screamed. "Minato's alive! He's alive, goddammit! But my Kaa-san is going to die if you don't do something. If it was Minato, would you just let him die too?!"
Kakashi squeezed his Sharingan shut, unwilling to memorize another moment of horror so devastating.
"Oba-san."
Kakashi jerked upright at that familiar voice, laced with exhaustion.
"Minato, just stay still, I'm trying to—"
"Oba-san."
As if by magic, Tsunade quieted and Kakashi found it suddenly easier to breathe.
"If Mikoto had not intervened, I may have never seen you again. She was brave for our sakes. You have to be brave now for more than just yourself. Please try."
"Please!" Naruto's plea was earnest and trembling as his energy seemed to vanish.
"Please." Hinata bowed her head, continuing to weep while fisting her hand in the back of Naruto's shirt.
The pair behind him was silent save for the occasional sob escaping Sasuke's throat.
In the next moment, Kakashi got a glimpse of Minato's drawn face before Tsunade was barrelling into his line of sight, breathing shakily, sweat breaking out along her forehead, her exposed teeth embedded in her bottom lip.
"Move!"
Kakashi snapped backward into a crouch, unsure what he should do about the Sannin who looked ready to upchuck given the smallest opportunity. Despite her apparent unease, Tsunade's hands were glowing a steady green and Kakashi could have sworn he saw snaking lines of inky seals shimmering in and out of existence on her face for a brief moment.
"What can I do?" Kakashi asked seriously.
In all honesty, he was prepared to acquire any supplies the woman might require or seek out any help she might need.
"Watch Minato."
The clipped request should not have surprised him, but it did.
"I can do that."
"Good," Tsunade snapped, looking flustered and honestly afraid. "Because if he wasn't what he is, he would be dead now."
That knowledge hit Kakashi not unlike the blow to the chest Mikoto had suffered.
"How?"
"Just go." Tsunade swallowed thickly as she sucked in another long breath through her mouth.
Kakashi lifted the limp boy into his arms, buried his nose into soft silvery hair, and inhaled sharply. Minato smelled weak and vulnerable, and Kakashi's instincts instantly went to war inside him. A piece of him railed about the unacceptability of his pup being harmed while the more rational piece proposed that the situation could have been far worse, far more dangerous.
"I'm okay."
Kakashi felt himself shake slightly and took another reassuring whiff of Minato's stressed, but richly alive, smell.
Kakashi had not failed. Not yet.
It took Kakashi a few moments to register the sudden emergence of half a dozen individuals. Shizune passed him by to drop down beside Tsunade, while the less-pompous Fugaku's voice was demanding details.
"Kaa-san?" Poor little Naruto.
Kakashi was not a spiritual individual, but he found himself praying nevertheless.
It was three in the morning and Hiruzen had not made it to bed yet. And considering how last night had played out, it seemed Hiruzen had a few more sleepless nights in his future.
Hiruzen's fingers itched to take hold of his bo-staff and swing it at something. Not just to be destructive, but also because combat was another way of reasserting control over a situation. And the situation at present made the Hokage desperately aware that his control was not as complete as he may have hoped.
A dozen factors had been accounted for, but Hiruzen's experience told him another story. A's visit was the perfect opportunity for Kumo or any other nation to start something. This had been expected, but the details themselves felt false. In any event, he needed to buy a few more minutes to think.
Rubbing his eyes, Hiruzen looked up as the door swung wide and his expected arrivals poured in. Shikaku looked sharp, alert, and all too grim considering the hour and the files in the jounin commander's hands. Fugaku and Shibi came in looking tired, but ready to engage in battle if necessary. And behind them all was Jiraiya, looking deceptively casual but for a bit of hardness around his eyes that spoke volumes to Hiruzen.
Cutting right to the chase, the Hokage addressed the small group.
"Before we begin, I'd like to thank Fugaku for making time to be here. I'm aware that Mikoto was grievously injured and I know it cannot be easy to be here while she is at the hospital."
Fugaku nodded stiffly, but there was a flush to the man's cheeks that Hiruzen imagined to be a sign of pleasure.
"Shikaku, I'm very interested to hear your report, but first I would like to hear an update of our casualty list."
Shibi and Fugaku exchanged a telling look before Shibi stepped forward and offered a short, curt bow.
"Hokage-sama, only two shinobi died during tonight's altercation. A career chunin that was too inebriated to escape from the explosions and a fresh Academy graduate whose inexperience proved her undoing."
Acceptable losses, all in all.
"And civilian?"
Another look was exchanged between Shibi and Fugaku. The latter took charge with a tight nod.
"As it currently stands, seventeen civilians were killed in the explosions. However, our forces are still searching the wreckage for remains with the assistance of Hyuuga clan members. The final tally may increase, but we don't expect to find more than a few."
"If there is any good news to report, it's that the village itself sustained no damage. While some merchants suffered losses, we believe that monetary compensation doled out by the civilian council will make any lasting problems go away."
Well, leave it to an Aburame to find a bright side to this mess.
"I've heard reports from the ANBU divisions and civilian representatives that suggest the conduct of the police force was exceptional, and they commended the police for their swift response, which saved many more lives."
"With all due respect, Hokage-sama, the attack was successful." Fugaku looked like he was swallowing a lemon. "Infiltrators successfully planted explosives at a heavily patrolled festival."
"You wouldn't have been able to do anything." Jiraiya finally opened his mouth, drawing eyes to where he was unfolding a crinkled, charred paper and placing it on the desk.
The design was intricate and had telling patterns of circular swirls the Uzumaki were known for.
"This is a custom explosive tag variant that I've never seen before today." Jiraiya's large finger traced the circular edge of a ripple. He seemed to be addressing himself more than the group. "The link here is incredibly fine. But I heard that we captured an infiltrator that used seals?"
"Uchiha Shisui engaged a suspected fuinjutsu expert from Kiri," Fugaku recited with pride. "He captured her alive and handed her over to T&I."
"Inoichi and Ibiki are working with her as we speak." Shikaku tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Though Inoichi asked me to let you know that he has not been able to utilize any clan jutsu at this time, since the woman's mind is protected by incredibly intricate sealing measures."
"That's too bad," Jiraiya groused. "Recovering potential Uzumaki sealing formula…That knowledge has a value that is practically incalculable."
"We have plenty of time to exploit our prisoner's knowledge," Hiruzen replied sharply. "Before we move on to the attack itself, are there any other outstanding issues we need to discuss?"
Shikaku and Shibi gave matching dismissive shrugs, Jiraiya smiled in that tight, I-am-fucking-pissed-off-but-I-will-save-it-for-later way, and Fugaku looked noticeably uncomfortable and shifted for a long moment before sighing and nodding once.
"There is a matter that must be brought to your attention."
"Anything that has you beating around the bush is worth hearing," Shikaku grumbled lowly. "And certainly not going to improve things for us."
Fugaku's face coloured briefly, but he did not honour the other man with a response: Hiruzen would take that as a promising sign.
"I was not a witness, but apparently Naruto had a dose of the Kyuubi's chakra."
Hiruzen swore and glared at his successor's picture before waving for Fugaku to continue.
"Naruto is not stupid. He is going to have questions and I think they deserve answers."
Hiruzen had never wanted Naruto to grow up knowing the nature of his burden, but a single moment in time had shot down any plans that did not involve informing the boy of the truth. With too many witnesses that were far too young to reliably understand, Uzumaki Naruto would have to be told what a jinchuuriki was.
And while Fugaku did not appear to know about Minato, Naruto would be far better off knowing of Minato's burden as well.
Kami, he was getting too old for this job. Maybe he ought to write Ohnoki and see if old age had afforded them common ground.
"Very well, Fugaku." Hiruzen removed his hat and tossed it to the desk. "I'll sit down and have a discussion with Naruto in a few days. Should that suffice?"
"Thank you, Hokage-sama." Fugaku resorted to a formal nod and Hiruzen pretended the other man's kindness was not so obvious.
"Back to our infiltrators." Hiruzen folded his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of his assembled men. "Their intentions seem rather conflicting. I want to hear your opinions."
"It is my assertion that Ebisu's use was as a diversion and little else," Shibi said calmly.
Knowing his subordinate as he did, Hiruzen agreed with the Aburame's intuition.
"Nevermind that." Shikaku was more brusque in his attitude than typical, but much had happened, so Hiruzen was not of a mind to judge too harshly. "We need to discuss the relevant details of tonight's attack. And we need to do it quickly."
"Senju Minato's poisoning was not accidental." Jiraiya's voice was hard and Hiruzen knew a lesser man would have been squirming under his student's piercing glare. "When I spoke to her briefly, Tsunade confirmed that the dose Minato received would have been lethal for just about any other child."
A fact that Hiruzen was all too aware of. It was one of the reasons this entire situation was misleading and made him want to doubt. To tuck away his suspicions and pretend he had never feared.
But the death of the revered scion of Konoha's founding clan was not something Sarutobi Hiruzen could ignore. The easy way out would be to point the finger at another village. At this point, Hiruzen could not exactly rule it out and his information was incomplete, but precipitous action like a poisoning did not fit the parameters of another village's interference.
Fact: the attackers explicitly admitted they were to kidnap Uzumaki Naruto. Conflict: kidnapping the Senju heir would be a mark of international prestige that would destroy Konoha's political standing and elevate that of the offensive village. Killing Senju Minato was not a surprise, but it was not the ideal option. It did not fit and Sarutobi was not buying such a lacklustre excuse.
"Killing the Senju heir makes no sense. Especially if abduction was the goal." Shikaku was glaring at the empty shogi board on Hiruzen's shelf in the corner.
And precisely Hiruzen's thought. Unwisely, Hiruzen looked over at Jiraiya, who was glowering unabashedly at the wall despite his relaxed pretence. There was little doubt that Jiraiya had inferred some details, but if his pupil had picked up on his own suspicions…
"It is my understanding that Uchiha Mikoto killed the other infiltrator," Shibi commented quietly. "The details of that particular incident are factual with no oddities. But while Fugaku's parenting is not in question, I find it peculiar that an elite jounin of Kumogakure could have been killed by his youngest son, who is not yet an Academy student."
"That bothers me too," Fugaku admitted. "It is possible she dismissed him as a threat, but even under those circumstances, she should have been able to react. And the other thing that bothers me is that the Kumo-nin had absolutely no weaponry."
"Nothing?" Shikaku's brow was heavily lined.
"No kunai, no explosive tags, not so much as a senbon." Fugaku looked ready to attack someone, so tense were his muscles. "I've been a shinobi my entire life and I can't rationalize the situation to a point that it makes sense."
"I agree with Fugaku-san." Shikaku inhaled loudly. "The only conclusion I can possibly draw is that the Kumo shinobi's death was intentional."
Hiruzen had to give it to the Nara clan: plots were their bread and butter. No one was safe from those profoundly terrifying brains. The others deserved some credit too. If any of them were surprised, they were not showing it.
"The Raikage's visit was a ruse." Fugaku's mouth wrinkled distastefully. "It was nothing more than a chance to damage Konoha's reputation."
"Perhaps," Shikaku muttered, but Hiruzen knew he was far from convinced.
"And they may have succeeded."
They all turned as the door swung wide to reveal Koharu stomping into the room in a styled grey kimono and hakama, a scroll clutched to her breast and lips steeled like she was going to war.
"What is it?" Hiruzen asked mechanically, already foreseeing the response.
"The Raikage has left Konoha, but not before delivering this missive into my hands." Koharu's wrinkled face was particularly neutral, but her eyes skimmed over his present company before falling meaningfully on Fugaku. "Kumo is demanding the head of the Uchiha responsible for the death of their shinobi. If we do not meet this request, they have intimated a threat of war."
In a full council chamber, Koharu's declaration would have had a significantly higher impact, but the present company was alert, if rather stone-faced.
To everyone's surprise, Shibi was the first to react.
"Impossible. Uchiha Sasuke's action was nothing short of commendable considering his circumstances. And while a state of war is undesirable, I perceive no viable options worthy of consideration. The Aburame clan will support the Uchiha clan and Konoha."
The Uchiha were not a clan ruled by their emotions, so Hiruzen was pleasantly surprised by how moved Fugaku seemed to be by Shibi's little proclamation.
"Troublesome," Shikaku muttered. The Nara looked first meaningfully to Hiruzen before turning toward the shell-shocked Fugaku. "You and I are not exactly friends, but I could see potential for growth between our families, Uchiha. Whatever is decided, we'll back you."
Another war, then. Konoha could ill-afford one, especially if another village joined forces with Kumo. Konoha could fight and perhaps even win, but there would be little left of their people if it came to another half-decade of bloodshed and despair.
"Hokage-sama, I understand the importance of responding to this issue, but I would ask for a bit of time before the Raikage's demand is publicized?"
War? Or had something else happened, that he had not foreseen?
"I can delay informing the council until dawn. A few hours, Fugaku."
"Thank you." Fugaku's reaction was grave. "I ask to be dismissed."
"By all means." Hiruzen waved his hand.
As soon as the man stepped out of the room, Shikaku stepped forward.
"Hokage-sama, is this room secure?"
Hiruzen motioned to Jiraiya, who instantly began refreshing a series of security seals and sealing the door. Koharu sniffed but moved to stand next to him while Shibi stood uncomfortably off to the side.
"We're clear."
"Hokage-sama?" Shikaku's voice sounded almost resigned.
"Speak your mind."
Confirm that I'm not crazy.
"A is not known for his political savvy or subterfuge, but the Raikage is characterized by protective instincts, pride, and blunt honesty. The threat he poses is real. I have no doubt that his threat of war is serious, but this situation itself is wrong. The Kumo shinobi's death and A's outrage factor together fine, but the circumstances of the Kumo-nin's death are far too suspect."
"Kumo is being used." Jiraiya grunted. "The natural thing to do is to decide who has the most to gain by sabotaging a treaty between Konoha and Kumo."
"The obvious conclusion would be an enemy of Konoha," Shibi surmised, "but at present, our only lead is the peculiar behaviour of a Kumo shinobi whose death may have been instigated by an outside force. Perhaps the fuinjutsu master that caused Ebisu to fight his own comrades bears some responsibility."
"Unfortunately, that's not outside the realm of possibility." Shikaku looked improbably upset by this analysis. "But I doubt that possibility will sway the Raikage."
"Neither do I." Hiruzen turned and shared a look with Koharu. "Neither do I."
Danzo…what have you done? And what will you force me to do, old friend?
Fugaku would not have been able to relay any details of his journey from the Hokage's office to the hospital.
A dilemma had been presented. A dilemma that Fugaku would have scoffed at before, but things were different now. His family was different now.
Since the day of his father's passing, Fugaku had known that any frivolous pursuits he once had were over. The future of the Uchiha had to take precedence over all else. And so, they had.
Mikoto had borne the weight of Fugaku's new responsibilities with dignity. The smiling, outspoken girl he had fallen in love with receded in favour of the new, proud matriarch. Fugaku had imagined himself proud when his wife became increasingly soft-spoken and relinquished her duty as a kunoichi to attend to her new role of doting wife.
Fugaku had busied himself with ensuring a prosperous future for his clan and buried any guilt he felt at leaving Mikoto to raise their firstborn with little assistance. Fugaku had felt confident about the future of the Uchiha inside of Konoha. The Uchiha had everything to live for and far too little to die for.
Until Namikaze Minato's untimely death and the subsequent condemnation from the rest of the village. It had been quiet and subtle, but the attitudes of the villagers had become unmistakeably frosty in the past few years. And while it was not an unfair assumption to suggest that the Uchiha bore a share of the blame for not fighting preconceived notions, the lack of amicable relations with other clans had been just another stroke of bad luck.
And then came a day that had seemed barely beyond the ordinary. A breakfast eaten at his work desk, a citation issued for public indecency, and papers approving the transfer of a potential spy to the interrogation division. Everything was exactly as he expected it to be until he went home and discovered a place entirely alien to the one he left that morning. And adopting Namikaze's son had certainly not been on his agenda, yet that too had happened.
Fugaku had not expected to feel the remorse he had felt that night, that guilt that had haunted him every night since. Mikoto's fury, her lack of subservience, and a spirit that Fugaku had almost forgotten had all resurfaced with a vengeance. Initially, Fugaku had been dismayed by his wife's sudden infusion of rebellion, but that piece of himself—that aspect that had fallen in love with Mikoto's fiery personality—woke up.
Fugaku had half-believed he had imagined Mikoto's behaviour, but in the following days she had become more than the shell of a person that had been sleeping next to him for the last decade. The person he had thought himself happy to lose for duty's sake had been returned to him by the miracle of adoption. Instead of easy coexistence, Fugaku returned home to gentle chiding, light teasing, and a renewed physicality that both elated and terrified him.
And in turn, Fugaku saw a pronounced change in his children. While Naruto's prankster habits left something to be desired, Fugaku could not deny his pleasure at seeing Sasuke becoming more settled and more confident. Itachi was not like some distant, aloof mountain; his eldest smiled easier and engaged with Sasuke more often. Seeing these changes flourish with the presence of Naruto and the Senju boy, Fugaku understood what he had lost in these past few years: what Itachi had never had, and what Sasuke had at last.
The change in the Uchiha clan as a whole in the last few months had been incredible. In partial response to his son's friendship with Hiashi's daughter, his clansmen had opened a dialogue with other clans. Instead of the rebuff they anticipated, the Uchiha had began inter-clan trading and many of them were now engaging in recreational hours with shinobi from other families. In particular, the Aburame's transition into the police force was met with a surprising lack of hostility. And better yet, the force members rotated to regular village duty had reported a high degree of success and amicability following successful missions.
And then, of course, the Hokage's promise: an Uchiha would become the Godaime Hokage. And in order to facilitate this, Itachi would become the Sandaime's apprentice within the next few months. It was everything Fugaku had wanted and everything he had never hoped for.
The clan flourished, and his family came to life. Fugaku has been hesitant to integrate himself into their joy simply because he feared he had forgotten how to live outside of duty.
And now it was too late.
The Raikage's demand had to be answered or their lack of response would itself be deemed an answer. And a solution that Fugaku would have sneered at before was now something he was considering very seriously.
Fugaku would never have hesitated to die protecting his family, but his imagination had always conjured up potential invaders or death on a mission–not choosing to offer himself up to the demands of a demented foreign Kage.
Outside his wife's room, a few highly recognizable faces were standing at the door. The lot of them perked up as he approached.
Putting on his game face, Fugaku smiled courteously and found himself staving off amazement at the fact that important figures from other clans were standing vigil outside his wife's room. Nara Yoshino was exchanging words with Hiashi of all people. And that seemed to be Shibi's wife, Mitsuri, interrogating a nervous-looking nurse just off to the side.
"How—" Fugaku paused. "How is my family?"
"Tsunade is evaluating Mikoto-san," Aburame Mitsuri offered demurely. "And her condition seems to have stabilized. Please let her know that we will return to visit her another time."
"You have my sincerest thanks for your concern." Fugaku looked to each in turn. "I know my wife would be touched by your presence here."
Mitsuri simply nodded affably in true Aburame fashion while Yoshino stepped in to pat him gruffly on the shoulder, a sad twinkle to her eye that suggested she had discerned something in that singularly Nara manner.
"What are friends for, Uchiha?" What indeed. "Shou will bring food for your family and my family will stand behind yours."
Fugaku's lips quirked. "Thank you."
The two women disappeared, leaving only an awkward-looking Hiashi behind. As he gazed at his former rival, Fugaku had the wistful notion of missed opportunities. Hiashi seemed to be thinking along the same lines because the man hesitated before leaving, turned away to stare at the wall, and spoke quietly.
"My daughter has refused to leave. Your wife has made quite the impression on her."
Fugaku's lips twitched. Yet more proof that the world was changing and the Uchiha right along with it.
"Her presence is welcome. She may stay as long as she wishes."
Fugaku just knew his father was rolling in his grave. For the first time, that thought seemed far more amusing than upsetting.
"Thank you. I will collect her tomorrow."
Believing their business concluded, Fugaku moved to step around the other man and nearly attacked him when a warm hand deliberately grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.
"I know what it is to lose someone you love. It changes who you are."
Fugaku listened to Hiashi's voice and almost faltered at the twang of desperation cloaking each word.
"Tonight, I was reminded of exactly what I have to live for. I will always be thankful for what your family has done for me."
Without another word, Hiashi disappeared down the hallway, leaving Fugaku more conflicted than when he arrived.
The door swung open and a semi-dishevelled Senju Tsunade poked her head out and beckoned him inside.
"Heard you skulking about the hallway, Uchiha."
Fugaku refrained from commenting and followed her into the dimly lit room.
On the nearest bed, Senju Minato looked fragile and tiny tucked beneath white sheets and a thin, green blanket. Kakashi was dead to the world with his head pillowed on the edge of the mattress and one of the boy's hands carding through the silver spikes with a fond smile. The boy himself stirred at their entry and lifted a hand to wave in their direction, but otherwise offered no greeting.
A long curtain partitioned the room and only the shadow of an occupied hospital bed showed Fugaku where Mikoto was resting.
Across the room, huddled on some chairs that had clearly been stolen from the waiting area, were the children.
Hyuuga Hinata was sitting next to Naruto, holding his hand: a bridge between two families. Itachi looked pale, distraught, and his Sharingan was bright and unwavering in their focus on Sasuke's face. Sasuke still had his fingers bunched in his pants and seemed like he was about to break down if anyone so much as looked at him.
How normal. And how Fugaku loathed himself more than he ever had. Sasuke, his little boy, who was not yet out of his mother's apron skirts, had killed—had been forced to kill when Fugaku had not been there.
Fugaku crossed the distance between them, crouched in front of his son, and cupped the far too small face with his much larger hands. There was a stirring as eyes turned to stare back into his: Fugaku did not care. Sasuke needed him and, for once, his family would come first. Fugaku would be the father he always should have been.
"Sasuke." The command snapped his son's head up and those dark pools of ebony shone with confusion. "I'm proud of you."
"What?" The disbelief was plain as day.
"Your Kaa-san was nearly killed, Sasuke." Fugaku refused to coddle his son with half-truths. The boy had taken his first, unfortunate step into an adult world. Sheltering him now would do more harm than good. "Would you have preferred she die?"
The response was instantaneous and came from more than one mouth.
"No!" Naruto and Sasuke shouted in unison.
Fugaku allowed his gaze to wander from one to the other and back again.
"If you had not killed that Kumo-nin, it is very possible she may have killed your Kaa-san and your friends. You did exactly as you should have done. You protected those that are important to you. And I am proud of you, my son."
A moment later, Fugaku had his arms full of Sasuke, who was doing a good job of soaking the fabric on his shoulder. Not caring an iota for what anyone else thought, he hugged his son and stroked his spiky head gently. In that moment of tranquility, he was fortunate enough to see the surprise and knowledge in Itachi's dark eyes. A question lay there.
Fugaku nodded once and regretted the way his eldest's now dark eyes widened for an instant with heartbreak before closing again.
There was another presence at his leg. Fugaku reached down and scooped Naruto into his arms as well. The blond nestled in perfectly next to his brother and Fugaku's heart swelled.
"Naruto, I'm sorry you had a terrible experience tonight too."
"Tou-san, I was really mad and really scared," the blond babbled incoherently into his ear. "And something happened that was just…I don't really know what it was and—"
"What happened is something that will be explained to you soon. I promise you that. For now, know that you are my son and nothing will ever change that. Do you understand?"
Watery blues blinked up at him in shock.
"I understand, Tou-san."
"Good."
Fugaku hugged his children to him once more before setting them down.
"How is the Senju boy?"
"Minato-chan is going to be okay. He's just sleeping now." Naruto accepted his alteration in topic with ease.
"Tsunade-sama made it so that Minato can share a room with Kaa-san," Sasuke whispered in a voice that lacked the fractured desperation of earlier. "It's good because we can check on them both at the same time."
So young and his son already had a better heart than Fugaku did.
"Good."
Fugaku pulled away from his boys, looked away from Itachi's betrayed stare, and even patted Hinata's cheek fondly before turning a duty-laden eye back to the Sannin.
"My wife?"
"Mikoto should wake up anytime now," Tsunade said, tucking a clipboard under her arm tiredly. "Recovery won't be instant, but I don't foresee any long-term problems."
"And Minato?"
"He'll be alright too." She turned an eye on the boy, looking relieved and not entirely convinced of the reality of the situation.
"I'm pleased to hear that," Fugaku replied. The next part would be harder but ultimately necessary. "Thank you for saving Mikoto."
"Thank the children." Tsunade turned away, a flicker of shame touching that proud face. "Without them, I doubt I would have been able to go through with it."
"Itachi." His eldest straightened. "I want a minute alone with your Kaa-san. Please watch the boys."
The boys threw Tsunade pleading looks and she simply rolled her eyes.
"Go see him, but let him rest. He needs it." Instantly his boys scurried to Minato's bed and began hauling themselves onto it with one on either side of their friend. Tsunade took up a seat next to a freshly roused Kakashi while Itachi stood off to the side—staring right at him.
Fugaku tried to give his son a reassuring look, but knew he failed when Itachi turned his back to him. As much as it hurt him to know that Itachi was suffering, Fugaku knew he had to prioritize. And these next few minutes were for him and his wife alone.
Fugaku pushed back the edge of the curtain. It had been a long time since Mikoto had been hurt, but the uneasiness in his gut remained the same. An IV ran down his wife's arm and she was dressed in the plain linen gown that every patient had the misfortune of wearing.
He was not exactly sure what he should have expected, but it wasn't the way his wife stirred without opening her eyes and lifted a hand into the air. Fugaku was by her side in an instant, weaving their fingers together and sitting next to her with his head bowed over their linked hands.
"I love you," he breathed out tenderly.
It had not been what Fugaku had planned on saying, but Mikoto deserved to hear it. In fact, she had been a far better wife than he should have had. If speaking these words was the least he could do, Fugaku would do it.
"Hmm, knew you were here," she murmured to him softly, smiling even as her eyes remained shut.
"You always seem to know." Fugaku pressed his lips to the dry skin of the back of his wife's hands, absently massaging her fingers with his own. "I've never been able to keep anything from you. Not really."
"Hmm." Mikoto blinked dreamily at him as her eyes opened, and Fugaku felt his heart beat a bit faster as her lips parted in a toothy smile. "I know you better than you know yourself. It's always been that way."
"Yes," Fugaku admitted gently. "Today, you frightened me greatly."
"Not sorry," she said, with that twinkle in her eye and that smile on her lips.
Fugaku could not help himself; he laughed at that. A brief, startled sound that he no longer recognized, as disused as it was.
"Nor would I ask you to be."
Fugaku turned her hand over and kissed her palm the way he had when they were just two young people in love. The way he had stopped doing the day he had become clan head.
"I missed that."
Fugaku allowed himself a brief smile, all too aware that Mikoto was scrutinizing him in that singularly wifely way.
"I think I did too. I've missed a lot of things. We have missed a lot of things. I'm sorry it took me so long to apologize for that. And if I had another lifetime, it would not be enough to apologize for what I've taken from you."
"I think you're being a little hard on yourself."
Fugaku felt his eyes burn and he breathed against the flesh of her palm.
"I almost lost you, I think I'm entitled to a few apologies."
His wife's fingers moved then. A few traced his face, pausing over the moisture on his cheeks, before falling to his chin and coaxing it upward. Fugaku acquiesced and smiled sadly at Mikoto, who was searching his face for something with a pinched frown.
"You've never apologized to me before," Mikoto said finally. "This isn't like you."
A thousand regrets and one more. Fugaku had never disliked himself as much as he did in that moment. But he could tell that Mikoto was tired and there was still one question he needed to ask her. One final piece to this puzzle.
"Why did you do it?"
"You would rather I let our children die?" The raspy query was almost amused.
"That isn't what I meant and you know it."
"Protecting people is why I wanted to be a shinobi, Fugaku. That hasn't changed."
"Protecting people." Fugaku tasted the words, feeling them out. "Even if we had lost you?"
Something like understanding flooded Mikoto's face and she caressed his cheek softly before dropping her hand to the cheap coverlet.
"Dying for someone else…I can't think of a better way to go. I think you would understand that."
"I'm starting to."
Mikoto's eyes fluttered shut and she felt around with her hand before finding his again and squeezing it.
"I love you, but I'm having a hard time staying awake."
Fugaku leaned in closer and ran the back of his hand over her soft, smooth skin. He smiled when slits of ebony peeked at him from beneath heavy lids.
"I've never deserved you, Koto," he whispered, leaning in close enough for their noses to brush. "Without you, my life would never have been worth living. I'm thankful for you and all of our children."
"I'm going to have to get stabbed more often if it turns you sappy." Mikoto sighed softly.
"Don't you dare." Fugaku leaned down and kissed one eyelid and then the other. "My sons need their Kaa-san."
"And you?" Mikoto mumbled.
Fugaku pressed his lips to Mikoto's forehead, closed his eyes, and shuddered once more.
"I have everything I've ever wanted."
And I've understood its value far too late. Nevertheless, I'm grateful for you, my love.
"I want you to rest now." Fugaku eased back, daring to activate his Sharingan for a single instant to memorize the peaceful smile on his dozing wife's face. "I'm going to go see the boys and take care of something."
"You work too hard."
"Someone has to."
Fugaku conceded to the lure and dipped his head down to press a kiss to his wife's lips tenderly.
"Come back soon."
Fugaku almost faltered at that, but he simply pulled away and forced himself to retreat, pausing at the edge of the bed.
"Get some rest, Koto."
Fugaku was a mess. He knew that every mission during the war had a possibility of death, but knowing the outcome ahead of time seemed to change things drastically. Fugaku had always loved Mikoto, but realizing he would be the cause of her suffering in the coming days was another matter entirely.
And not just for Mikoto, but for his sons.
Fugaku stepped beyond the curtain and found himself at a loss for words. What exactly could he say here?
Naruto noticed him right off the bat and had already shimmied off the hospital bed and walked up to him hopefully.
"Can we see Kaa-san now, Tou-san?"
Naruto was standing just as straight as Sasuke did with an inflection of respectful deference in his tone. The blond had grown a bit taller too and possessed a healthy glow that he formerly lacked. And strangest of all, Naruto was looking at him with that childish adoration that Sasuke sometimes displayed. A yearning for approval tempered by affection directed at Fugaku—not Namikaze Minato—but his reluctant adoptive parent.
"I have some things to take care of." Fugaku uncharacteristically allowed himself to bend down and open his arms to both boys, who were scrambling toward him. "Come say goodbye."
He caught both children and lifted them. Hugged them.
"You two have grown," Fugaku mused. "I missed that."
"Just you wait, Tou-san!" Naruto whispered. "Soon we'll be taller than you are."
Sasuke did not say anything at all; his boy's eyes were haunted and he seemed to thrive from the proximity.
"I'm very proud of you both," Fugaku whispered. "Keep making me proud?"
"Of course," Naruto answered for the both of them.
"Alright, no climbing on Kaa-san." Fugaku shooed them away, feeling like he was already dying as the boys zipped around the curtain. "And only do that for a few minutes."
The Hyuuga girl lingered uncertainly before scooting around him and rushing after the boys.
Fugaku bypassed Itachi and paused beside the other bed, where the small child resting there appeared to be sleeping. Kakashi, however, was eyeing him with a far too knowing look.
"Keep my boys out of trouble, Senju Minato." Fugaku patted the boy's shoulder gently.
The boy had been more of a pain than a blessing, but Fugaku saw the way he gently manipulated his children into being better people.
Not bothering with Hatake, Fugaku went to where Itachi was standing and guided his son out of the hospital room.
"Walk with me."
They did not exchange words inside. Instead, Fugaku wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder in a manner he never had before and glowered defiantly at any observers if their attention lingered a second longer than necessary.
Outside the hospital, only a few people loitered, but Fugaku quietly guided Itachi to an isolated corner, surprised when he took the initiative.
"I will never see you again."
"No," he agreed far too easily.
"Kaa-san will not understand." Itachi spoke-much too calm, as usual. "Sasuke will be angry."
"And you?"
What will you feel, my son?
"You are doing this for the village. And our family. It's the correct choice."
"Have I disappointed you, Itachi?"
I already know my parenting has lacked. I've raised you to be an Uchiha that surpasses all others, but I've never really taken the time to get to know you. To ask what you want. I've failed at being your father.
Forgive me, Itachi.
"No." Itachi looked at him and Fugaku's breath caught. "I've never loved you better."
Fugaku had seen a thousand smiles, but nothing like this. Itachi was smiling in a way that highlighted tears and embodied joy. For the first time, his son was not pretending: Itachi was happy.
"Thank you." Fugaku crushed his firstborn to his chest and wept silently.
If dying came with a consolation prize, it was knowing that he had redeemed a child he had failed before his birth. Fugaku pulled away with a last gentle kiss to his son's forehead.
"Lead with your heart, my son. I know you will make me proud."
Fugaku pulled back, mesmerised by Itachi's tears and the true emotions buried in those eyes.
"Goodbye, my son."
Fugaku let his shunshin carry him away, wanting to savour the moment.
Sarutobi Hiruzen did not look surprised to see him, but he certainly looked aggrieved.
"I have a few things I would like to finalize with you and a few favours I would like to call upon, Hokage-sama, but there will be no war." Fugaku's resolve hardened. "Not if I can prevent it."
"You are an incredible man, Fugaku."
"I am a shinobi of Konoha." Fugaku smiled faintly. "I've come to serve."
AN: To my reviewers and followers, you all rock and I adore you. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. One more chapter before the first timeskip. Yay!