Chapter 14 – How Taichou Plans

"Katon: Goukakyu no Jutsu!"

The darkness of late evening fell like a stone, coating the village in a shadow of unease. In the faint light, the streak of fire lit destruction as it went, catching two anbu members off guard with its licks to their flammable sleeves.

She turned, eyes blank, and looked at the three others slowly approaching her. It felt strange to fight like this, unmasked, wearing the Uchiha insignia openly on the back of her shirt. The clothes didn't fit her body, they didn't hug at every patch of skin like her anbu uniform did. They didn't feel right.

"Surrender," One of the masked anbu barked out. "We were told to capture any we could, we wouldn't kill you."

Fukurou glanced around. The sounds of the rest of the skirmish were building in the near distance, closer to the clan grounds. She'd fled to the market areas for cover, and to meet someone among the heat of battle. But now the sky was darkening quickly and the alley wall was firm behind her back and three of her former comrades were advancing towards her, the unrecognized girl in Uchiha clothing. She glanced nearby at the other two, one of whom was clutching a badly burned arm while the other rolled on the ground in a desperate effort to save himself from being consumed by flame.

The first skirmish had broken out merely an hour ago, just as the day begun to wane. It was short and quick, and the fighting was only between the Uchiha and the council's anbu. Their new allies would only join when Konoha's jonin were called to battle. The Hyuuga liked to deliberate, after all; they were a clan of traditional fools who saw little benefit in decisive action.

"Like hell!" She hissed, drawing three shuriken from her pouch. She threw them, and each one shot forward with her trained accuracy. But these were inner-circle anbu, they were the ones who worked in teams like pieces of a collective mind. They dodged easily, headed towards her with their tanto drawn.

Cursing inwardly, Fukurou drew her blade and braced herself for the decisive clang of steel. She had wasted her chakra before in a foolish attempt to appease her clan, back in the main ground where the skirmish occurred at full blow. The Uchiha fought with chakra, not blades. But anbu fought differently, and she'd long become used to it, and now she suffered its resulting chakra loss. She managed to hit one of the three in a near-lethal point, throwing herself to the ground and digging her blade up into his thigh. He dropped with a silent scream behind his mask, but the other two were still poised to attack and she was on the ground, on her chest, unable to turn.

At that last moment, she strained her neck to look upwards. If she had to die, then she would die looking death in the face.

But the two anbu's blade paused midair, and they both froze. Fukurou watched, confused, as they dropped like puppets with cut strings, piling over each other. With a burst of energy, she pushed herself up, teetering before she regained her stance in the lone street. Then she noticed that the two fallen anbu had kunai in the backs of their necks, sticking out and inducing a kind of morbid fascination that overtook her mind. She remained there, frozen, staring, before finally coming to her senses.

"Owl," a voice called from behind her. She spun quickly and almost dropped her tanto in relief when she was greeted with the sight of a dog-like mask. Taichou stood there at the mouth of the alley with his hands loosely in his pockets. He walked calmly towards her.

"Hound-taichou!" She called, straightening. The dead anbu behind them were forgotten as she simply reveled in the feeling of having stayed alive and soaked in the aftereffects of the battle-heated blood pulsing through her veins.

"Maa … this is the first time you needed rescuing," he chuckled, clicking his clay mask off its band. "One day out of anbu and you're already loosing your touch."

Fukurou simply pushed him against the wall of the alley. She closed her eyes like she was supposed to, pulled down his mask, and pressed warm, gasping lips against his. He tasted like blood, like he'd bitten his lip earlier, but she didn't care that the metallic tang got in the way.

His chuckle drained away as he tangled his gloved hands into her hair. When they broke apart to breathe, he drew up his second mask and let his eyes scan the empty backend street, making sure no one was in sight. "The anbu are evenly matched with the Uchiha," he reported. "I was there a few minutes ago, it doesn't seem very decisive. They'll probably stop to take back the injured, soon. It's a little too dark to fight."

"Not too dark for other things," she said matter-of-factly. "Besides, it's only a matter of time until they're all dead. Just watch, the stupid Hyuuga will be too caught up in their politics to do anything, and Fugaku-sama is already incorporating them into his plans, the fool."

"I don't know," he trailed. "They are being much more assertive than they usually are, I suspect they will send their troops soon." His one revealed eye held hints of a wry smile. "And you're suffering from chakra loss. You'll faint halfway."

"Just watch me," she muttered, fingering his vest.

He held her hand still. "I need a favor from you, Owl."

She glared with eyes like dark steel, and her face morphed into the unusual prettiness spurred by her frown. "Oh, right. I forgot that I need to pay you."

His hand tightened. "One favor. You're the only one I know who can do this."

She sighed. "Forget trying to get involved, taichou. You've already done enough, leave the rest to the idiots like Itachi and his brother. If they figure it out, then fine. If they don't, then I'll take a one-way trip to Mizu. The Sharingan is a rather useful tool for survival, and maybe I can visit sometime."

"I need to know how to infiltrate the Uchiha compounds."

"Taichou, I don't feel like talking right now. Take it off. Or don't. I'll do it for you." She reached for the edges of his shirt.

But his firm hands clamped down on her wrists. "Owl, you know that I like you."

"Well of course I know," she hissed. "Listen, there are no more sounds of paper bombs, which means the anbu have retreated. We have around ten minutes before the patrols investigate the noises. Make them come investigate my noises or I'll leave."

"You won't. You'll stay and listen. I like you, Owl. You remind me of myself." He raised an eyebrow. "Though you have a habit of treating everyone like they're younger to you. Did you forget I'm almost six years older? Normally that wouldn't be such a difference, but you're still so young."

Fukurou let go of his shirt, seemingly giving up on what she was after. She tried to turn and leave, but taichou's hand was still on hers. "Fine," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "You don't actually like me, you just like the you that you see in me. I get it. Do you think I care?"

"You care a lot." He frowned, but his grip was still tight. "You cared a lot about Badger. You may not remember me back then, but I was there and I saw. You cared a lot about becoming a strong shinobi. Anbu changed you."

"My clan did that. Anbu has nothing to do with it. Anbu just has you."

Hound smiled under his mask. "It does. And I'll be here whenever you want. But you should have told me that I was sleeping with Crow's future wife."

"So you looked into my name, did you?" She glowered, and then tilted her head to one side, waving a hand in dismissal. "Not anymore."

"I'm hurt. Is this over, then?" He asked calmly.

"Idiot," she pushed at his chest. "I meant that my engagement is canceled. If there's no clan, they don't need anyone to lead it."

"Then tell me how to infiltrate the Uchiha compound."

There was silence in the empty backend street, and above them darkness had just hit the sky full-on. In the distance were the sounds of pattering feet and swift shunshin, and the muffled yelling of orders.

Skirmishes were horrible things. Their intent was to push, but never to break, to test the limits of the enemy to make future plans. The people who died, died for a reason as purposeless and mundane as that, like the five members of the anbu squad bleeding nearby with life leaking out of the kunai in their necks. After the elation at not dying, after the calm relief of seeing taichou – who was almost invincible – she no longer had emotion left to feel sorry for their pitiful state. She just wanted someone familiar to play pretend with for a while.

She looked at him with searching eyes, "you're going to rescue that Jinchuuriki boy."

"Yes."

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes. "No harm can come to him, can it? The Uchiha won't risk killing him because there's no one alive who can control the Kyuubi, and they'll be defeated soon. Maybe they'll keep him hungry for a while, but now that Sandaime-sama is missing, there isn't anyone in the who cares about that kid enough to give in to any demands."

"There is," Hound-Kakashi looked away. "I promised someone that I wouldn't let him get hurt. I have to uphold that promise first. That is my priority, Owl."

She gave him a long look, feeling inklings of both dread and pity. The Uchiha compound was a death sentence for anyone else, and he would never be able to create a henge strong enough to surpass the Sharingan. It was one thing to fight her clan outside, on even ground. Entering their home territory was suicide.

Fukurou gritted her teeth and looked away. "I tell you when I see any openings. I'll … I'll keep an eye out, taichou."

His grip relaxed. "Thank you, that's all I need."

When they arrived at the gates of Sugi, night had already fallen, and there were only slivers of orange left at the clasp of the horizon. It took all of three minutes for them to ask around and pinpoint the exact location of the Legendary Sucker.

"It shouldn't be that easy," Itachi murmured under his breath. "She's a Sannin, she should be more aware about these things. It took me months to locate Orochimaru."

"She's like this because she's a Sannin," Sasuke threw back. "Someone like her doesn't need protection or safety. No one would dare to challenge her even with her ridiculous bounty in Suna."

They stood in front of the door of the richest gambling place in Sugi, coated in their henge, looking like two middle-aged men. The man who guarded the door shot them apprehensive looks, but the illusory coat pockets of their henge were large enough to appease him temporarily. The nighttime streets were dark, lit only by bright shop signs advertising grand wins that no one ever won. Sasuke was starting to doubt their plan, but he watched as Itachi pushed the door open and strode inside, reluctantly following him into the gambling house.

The inside was heavily lighted and absolutely silent. They stood among a group of audience members near the door, watching the rows of people gathered inside. There were ten of them, arranged down two long rows of five, facing each other. At the head of the row was a woman who looked to be around twenty, staring contemplatively at the dice in her hands. She had once been known as the most beautiful kunoichi in the five countries, and although Sasuke knew better, she still held her winning appearance to all other eyes. Though it would be more appealing if her hair weren't soaked with sweat.

She sat cross-legged with one hand braced against her knee. Every man in the room watched her, and probably for the first time their eyes were on the case of money beside her instead of on her chest. Finally, she threw the dice down.

"Even," she declared loudly, waiting for the dice to settle.

Sasuke heard a faint snorting noise beside him, and turned to see a younger woman standing there with the spectators, holding a pig in her arms. The pig snorted again. There was silence in the room, and the echo of grinding sound made by the rolling dice sounded disproportionately large. The woman beside him holding the pig sighed as she peered over, and saw the dice come to a stop.

Suddenly, there was noise.

Sasuke felt Itachi grasp his arm as every other occupant in the room erupted into cheers, and the woman who'd thrown the dice clutched at her head in frustration. He struggled to peer around the bodies, and saw her reluctantly handing over the case of money with the air of someone who could easily refuse but held on too tightly to fragmented morals. The woman with the pig immediately rushed forward into the playing area, heading to Tsunade's side and helping her up with one arm.

"That's her," Sasuke whispered. "Tsunade. She's a notorious loser at gambling. And a drinker. Do you still think she'll save our village, nii-san?" He raised his henge's eyebrow.

But Itachi had been observing something else about her, because his eyes held a kind of solemn respect as he watched her walk to the doorway, leaning on the dark-haired woman's shoulder, with the pig trotting by her leg. "She's perfect," he breathed. "I think … I understand why she became Hokage." He pulled at Sasuke's hand, "come on, we can't lose her trail."

Sasuke spluttered, but he followed his brother out the door and into the cold night. The transition from the bright inner lighting to the dark outside hit them sharply, and he took a few moments to focus his eyes. Itachi had already pulled him well into the street.

It was quiet again outside and the loud, celebratory yelling behind them slowly faded into the distance. They walked down the lone village road, following the two figures. Their footsteps were silent, far quieter than Tsunade's erratic thuds. For a while, the two women didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. When they had followed them down two street turns, the dark-haired one paused and turned to give them apprehensive glances. Sasuke opened his mouth, but his brother went forward and stopped beside her.

"We need to speak with Tsunade-sama," Itachi said earnestly, letting his henge fade away.

Her dark eyes widened, and scanned over his plain clothing and lack of weapons, "who are you?"

Tsunade was still learning heavily over her shoulder, eyes looking determinedly to the ground to where the pig stood at attention. Her yellow hair fell around her face, sticking to her neck in some places. Under her desolate state, Sasuke found it hard to see what Orochimaru had seen in her, but given the tone of his brother's voice, it was clear that his brother had.

"My name is Uchiha Itachi, and this is my brother," he said truthfully. "We've come from Konoha."

The dark-haired woman smiled warmly, but from behind her shoulder, Tsunade had just looked up to see him. Her half-conscious eyes settled on Sasuke, and she brought up one finger to point with surprising accuracy for her drunken state. "Hey, that kid was at the gambling house. What was a kid doing in there?"

Sasuke looked down at his henge. It was still intact. So the Slug Sannin was able to see through his genjutsu with over eight cups down. His brows furrowed, and he slowly released the illusion, allowing the other woman to see him.

"This is my brother," Itachi told her quietly, though his voice was loud in the silent street. "He came with me from Konoha."

"Kono … ha," Tsunade's voice was almost inquisitive. She tilted her head back, as if recalling something from a textbook. Then her eyes hardened with the suddenness that only sake could cause, and she shuddered in distaste. "Now that … was a horrid village." Her voice came out slightly slurred, as if the sake was still lingering in her mouth.

The woman who braced her sighed. "Tsunade-sama dislikes Konoha," she explained patiently. "What are you kids doing so far from the village?"

"We've come to speak with her," Itachi nodded towards the blond woman who had gone back to glaring at the ground. "We have something to ask."

She frowned, but nodded hesitantly. "Well, I only hope it's nothing that you'll be disappointed by. But she's not exactly in speaking condition right now, maybe you could ask in the morning?" Then her frown grew deeper. "Oh, but … she won't be in speaking condition in the morning either…"

Sasuke rubbed at his temples, seeing that it was going nowhere. He had heard much about the slug sannin, but this was simply ridiculous. There was no way this unlucky sake-addict would be able to help them. This was at least five years before she'd become Hokage in the future; maybe she'd gone through extensive rehabilitation and therapy in that time. But as she was, Senju Tsunade was hopeless. They would have better luck bringing Orochimaru back.

But his brother didn't seem willing to relinquish her. Instead, there was a strange glint of determination in his eyes. "I consider myself highly skilled in the art of speaking with the inebriated," Itachi told her. "I have been in anbu for many years, and clients sometimes feel more comfortable under the influence. My brother and I don't have money on us either, we were hoping to speak with her now and settle the matter quickly."

"What matter?" Tsunade looked up again, and there was annoyance in her expression. "Get out of the way kid, I need sleep. Shizune, scare him away with a senbon and get going."

The dark-haired woman – Shizune – seemed hesitant. She looked from the Sannin to Itachi and the seven-year-old Sasuke. She bit her lip, "Tsunade-sama, they're from Konoha, and they need help. Whether you listen to what they say or not, we can't leave them here all alone. It's almost midnight."

Sasuke nodded gravely. A room for the night would be nice. Tsunade reluctantly grunted a 'fine' under her breath, but there was a sense of unease in her eyes. She kept her eyes trained on the buildings before them as they walked.

Within the Hyuuga clan grounds, Hinata was under the blankets of her futon once again, hidden inside her silent room. Her eyes burned like they'd been set on fire, as if her body was rejecting with them the power that she wasn't ready to handle. Even in the late night, the suikenketsu maintained its steady, rhythmic taps against the stone by the water outside.

Tic. Tic.

It was the middle of the day, and she was walking outside in the village streets. Hakumi-san was with her, leading her with a gentle grip on her arm.

"After defeating Danzo, Tsunade-sama refused the position," she was saying. "Your father will be pleased, Hinata-sama."

She nodded.

Hanabi was in the infirmary. She didn't know how she knew that, all she knew was that she wasn't supposed to be aware of it. But Hanabi-chan was in the infirmary, and her condition was 'delicate'. It was not worryingly so. Otou-san was happier than he'd ever been before, and he would never be happy if Hanabi-chan was hurt.

Hanabi was in the infirmary. Her condition was 'delicate'. She was not hurt.

The air had a sense of shaking recovery lingering within it, and it didn't take her Enkaku to realize that something great had happened, and now was the village's slow decline to normalcy.

"Do you want to eat dango, Hinata-sama?" The summer day was warm, and Hakumi raised a hand to wipe at her forehead, at the green seal on her skin. "You like dango, don't you? We can go to the dango shop."

Hinata shook her head hesitantly, looking around at the world that was so obviously like a dream. "I'll go p-play in the-the park," she said. "My f-friends will be t-there."

Hakuma-san smiled down at her, and let her arm go. "Alright. Just remember to return by evening, alright?"

She nodded.

The Enkaku's visions were strange like this. They were real, yet incorporeal, and everything around her seemed like it would disappear any second. There was a strong feeling of transience, but some things were more real than others.

Like the face of a brown-haired older boy as he walked past her on the street, clutching the sleeves of his chunin flak jacket with whitened hands.

Like the Uchiha police member who patrolled briskly in the opposite direction.

Like the startlingly pretty blond girl who skipped up to walk beside her.

"Hinata," Ino said as she raised an eyebrow in recognition. "Otou-san was just speaking with your father."

"G-good news?"

Tic. Tic.

She cowered further under the sheets, holding them up over her head with shivering hands. Her eyes hurt. They hurt. She willed the pain to go away, but at the same time she held onto it, spurred by morbid curiosity.

Tic. Tic.

"Nope. Bad. Iwa leaked plans to invade." Ino went on. Her face was different from how it had once been. It held a constant tinge of worry, of unease. It wasn't the type of look that seemed at home on the face of a child.

Hinata didn't know if that was true. During every one of the Enkaku's visions, she only knew the present time. She had no knowledge of what had happened during the period between then, and back when she had been under her blankets. She continued to walk silently by her former classmate.

"They'll be opening the academy soon," Ino said. "Otou-san will be happy. He's been trying to teach me all by himself because he didn't want me to fall behind later on, but they're always calling him away for missions and he's always so tired."

Hinata nodded. She didn't know who Ino's father was, but it seemed that she was supposed to know.

Ino stopped walking, and bit her lip, looking up at the peaceful sky. "You know, I still worry about her. She's visits Sasuke-kun, even though otou-san told her not to go near him. And she's at that place again."

"W-what place?"

The blond girl blinked. "The memorial, of course. You don't seem like the type who'd forget something like that."

Tic. Tic.

"Hinata-sama?" Hakumi-san's voice filtered in through the sliding doors. "Hinata-sama, your light is still on. Won't you go to sleep? It's almost midnight."

"I-I will, H-Hakumi-san," was all she could say. But she didn't move a single limb.

Tic. Tic.

Ino disappeared into the air, because the visions were predictive but sometimes inconsistent. So she faded into the atmosphere, and the strange look on her face merged easily into the unease settling firmly on top of the village.

Hinata walked to the memorial. She didn't know how she knew where it was, but it was something she'd presumably learnt over the time she didn't remember. When she broke through the foliage surrounding the clearing in which the large stone stood, she saw two people standing by it.

One was Sasuke-kun, the boy she remembered from some of her classes. Once, she had been told to make friends with him for diplomatic purposes.

The other was a pink-haired girl she vaguely recognized as one of the civilian-born academy students.

They both stood in front of the memorial, still enough to compete with the stone. She walked to them, simply to see what they were looking at.

"You shouldn't be here, Hinata-sama," the pink-haired girl told her. "It's not a very good grave anyway. The fake one that was built in your clan compound for diplomacy is much nicer. The anbu who engraved it here has horrible handwriting, and his carving isn't any better."

"How is your sister?" Sasuke asked. "Is she still in the process? I hope she dies."

Hinata winced sharply at his cutting words. There was a frustrated look on his face, and she didn't know why. It overtook his pretty features, morphing them into something unfamiliar. She walked forward and looked at the memorial stone and suddenly everything snapped into place, settling down on her shoulders with a sense of raw horror.