Auuuuuuuugh XDD this chapter took forever to write... I'm afraid it's not very good, but once I reached eleven pages in wordperfect, I decided I had better wrap it up XDD

Anyways... I apologize for any cheese or OOC ness... or any like XD not making sense. Once again, hitting is bad! XD don't do it.

And I'm sorry if the last bit sucks... My lovely beta reader ( that's what a beta reader is, right? when someone reads over everything for you, to see if they can find any mistakes?) Nobukane, didn't read over the last bit XD

On a related note, Go check out Nobukane's stories! And review :D you know you waaaant tooooo! Oh oh! And someone called "Aoyama Naoko" is mentionned... She's Nobukane's kickbutt oc! so the credit goes to him!

So... yeah. Chapter eighteen :3 a huge thank you to anyone reading this.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto :3 and Naoko belongs to Nobukane!

oh! XD and according to wikipedia, "Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai" Is what ANBU stands for.

"Ouch,"

"Stop moving," Shinju ordered, returning her hand to the side of the younger girl's face. "Honestly, Kotone. I've treated academy students who squirmed less."

"It feels funny," She complained, digging her nails into the couch cushions to keep herself from pulling away again. She wasn't used to the odd sensation of her damaged skin repairing itself, given Shinju's chakra's help. She didn't often visit medic-nin.

The nineteen year old chunin was seated, on one side of the battered old sofa, her brother sat on the other side, one arm over the top of the chair, hand lolling dangerously close to Kotone's shoulder. She kept glancing at it, as best as she could without moving her head too much. She really wasn't used to having her personal space invaded so regularly. Hiraku had always seemed to have very little reservations about his own 'Personal bubble', or anyone else's, for that matter.

Perhaps her aversion simply came from spending so much time with someone, who for the past several years, had been so adamant about keeping his distance.

"Is everything going alright?" She feelt justified in turning her head as a vaguely familiar female voice is heard by the door to the kitchen.

"Looks that way," Hiraku answers brightly, as his mother, who Kotone knew to be a medic nin as well, stepped closer to examine her daughter's handiwork, and nodding her approval.

"Good work, Shinju chan. You're very talented."

Shinju smiled politely, at the praise. "Thank you."

Shinju was an excellent medic. But that was all she was good at. The ninteen year old chunin, who had never been nominated for a promotion, had become something of a joke with the other shinobi of the village. While her medical skills were exceptional, she proved to be completely useless in battle. As far as most shinobi were concerned, a ninja that couldn't kill wasn't much of a ninja at all.

Hiraku was often heard chuckling nervously at the assassination team training, when someone made a joke at his sister's expense, as opposed to ignoring them, as Kotone did.

It took Kotone a moment to realise that some gratitude was in order from herself, especially. "Kasumi San? Thanks a lot for letting me stay here, really," She told the woman sincerely.

"It's no trouble," She replied. There mother was a stern looking woman, though not unkind. Her greying hair, the same colour as her son's, tied back in a practical little bun. The children must have had their father's eyes, as her's were a deep green.

"Well, we can't exactly make you go back to the psychotic demon guy, now can we? That'd be irresponsible," Hiraku's voice was low, so only Kotone and his sister, who shot him a waring glare, could hear. Kotone really wasn't all that inclined to argue, this time.

Staying with the Kasumis was, though agreeable, a very confusing experience. Never having had a mother herself, nor a father who had any time for her, the general concept of 'Family dinner time' completely confounded her.

Her eating habits over the course of he life has consisted of: eat whatever Otou san's made (be quiet, and don't make a mess), Eat whatever you can steal (don't get caught), eat whatever they have set out (Hurry so you're not late for any lessons) and grab whatever's lying around the house (open package, boil water, pour water in, don't burn yourself). In that order.

So, naturally, the whole 'sitting down with family eating something that actually resembles food, wasn't frozen, and doesn't have the word 'instant' in the name' thing was strange. But pleasantly so.

"When is tou-san getting back?" Hiraku asked, as he set his bowl down.

"Sometime next week," His mother answered, as Kotone looked over at Shinju quizzically.

"Otou san teaches genin," The grey eyed girl explained calmly. "He started a couple of years ago."

"It's much nicer now... Everything's changed so much," Hiraku interrupted contentedly.

"Yes, but there's still a long way to go, Hiraku. The training conditions aren't as bad as they used to be, but they're still atrocious-"

"Relax, nee san! We're training ninja, not dancers. Mizukage sama knows what he's doing, right, Kotone chan?" He contested, between two mouthfuls of rice. She nodded, distractedly, not really paying attention. She was more concerned with the fact that herself, plus Hiraku, Shinju, and their mother made four people sitting at the table, and that as suddenly making her very uncomfortable.

"Anyways, before Hiraku interrupted," She resumed, tersely. "The system's really changed. Genin are assigned to consistent groups of three, and keep the same teacher, like what most villages do."

"Dad said he couldn't stomach teaching before, since half of the academy kids ended up dead, and the other half were murderers already." Came yet another inconsequential interjection from Hiraku's corner of the table.

There was an ominous clatter as two bowls of rice were set down, synchronized, and an identical, stern expression spread across Shinju and her mother's face. "Hiraku, that's enough, please." She intoned firmly.

"Easy for you to say," Shinju whispered scornfully. "You got a reprieve."

"Oh," Kotone took a second to realise that their mother and father would have had to complete the previous graduation exam. The rest of the meal was a little more awkward, and much more silent. Somehow, to Kotone, that was easier to deal with. It wasn't that she was nervous, she was far from shy, but it was just...strange.

"I'm sorry about him," Shinju sighed, throwing a blanket and pillow on the couch. "He can be so juvenile... You can borrow something of mine, to sleep in I must have something I've grown out of somewhere," she added, quickly turning, and heading to her room, Kotone following before she had a chance to say 'thank you,'

The medic was already rummaging through a bottom drawer when Kotone caught up, standing near the doorframe of the pale pink room. "Now, this should-" She turned, concentrating on the folded fabric in her hand, bumping into the younger Kunoichi. The nineteen year old stopped, and looked up, blinking. She hadn't been standing close enough to notice the height difference between them in a long time."Kotone... How tall are you?"

"Five-eight," The fifteen year old answered, scratching at the back of her head bashfully. "But I've stopped growing now, I think."

"Did you used to slouch?"

"Yeah... But that's a bad habit of mine. Standing up straight gives a more serious impression on an opponent, right?"

"I see," The petite medic said, nodding, one eyebrow raised. "Well... This will be too small then," She sighed, turning around again, and resumed her searching. "Here we go," She took a pair of sweat pants and a baggy T shirt, that appear to have been abandoned for quite a while in the bottom of her bureau.

"Thanks, Shinju." Kotone replied, turning her back to the other girl, as she started changing, from her usual dark blue happi to the borrowed pajamas.

"Kotone?" She heard the door creak, as it was opened, closed partly, then opened again, and the other girl stepped quickly back into the room.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"Oh," Kotone twisted slightly, examining the swollen discoloured batch of skin by the bleached strips of sarashi wrapped around her chest. "This? This is no problem,"

"It looks infected," Shinju shut the door, taking a professional stride over. "I'm fixing it."

"No, no, it's ok, really," Came the anxious reply, as she took a step back. "I just fell on a makibishi a while ago, it's not bad,"

"Kotone, infections are dangerous. Do you know what gangrene is?"

"Hey, relax, it's not that bad! I'm fine, really," She smiled reassuringly.

"It doesn't hurt?" The medic asked skeptically.

"Well yeah," Kotone chuckled. "But that's alright."

"Kotone, sit down." Shinju ordered. "I'm not letting that get worse."

"I'm fine,"

"Yeah, you'll be fine until your arm falls off."

"That won't happen," She was still smiling, but Shinju sensed the tiny waver in her voice as a victory.

"How do you know that? I'm the medic, Ume. You don't tell me about healing, and I won't tell you how to kill things." Kotone picked up on the tiny hint of disdain there. She sighed, defeated.

"Fine,"

vvvvvvvvvvv

"Kaa San! Nee San!"

Almost a week after first being invited to stay with them, Hiraku tore into the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear, causing his mother, sister, and guest to jump slightly.

"What is it?" Shinju asked sharply, Kotone blinked, over her bowl of cereal, not fully awake yet.

"I got in!" He exclaimed happily. "Haha! I can't believe it! Me, on the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai!" He stopped, glancing down at Kotone.

"Oh...Kotone chan...Sorry... I'm afraid you didn't... you know. Better luck next time... Maybe someone will die?"

"Hiraku," Shinju interrupted incredulously.

"It's alright," Kotone smiled placidly. "I knew I wasn't going to... Who else did, by the way?"

Hiraku regained his cheerfulness rather quickly. "Oh, let's see... Nezumi...That Kurosuki guy..." He went on for a long while, before his sister cut in.

"Hiraku kun," She sighed, eyes closed, clearly annoyed. "I believe Kotone is trying to ask if Momochi was recruited."

"No I wasn't," The younger muttered, halfheartedly.

"Oh," His face fell, and his voice was suddenly rather resentful. "Yeah. Yeah, Kijin made it."

Kotone nodded, head inclined slightly, expression ambiguous. "There was little doubt of that." She looked up after a long moment of staring at nothing in particular, forcing a smile. "Anyways, congratulation, Hiraku Kun. Good luck."

vvvvvvvvvv

The young man sighed impatiently, keeping his wounded arm immobile as he knew was best for it. He muttered to himself behind the mask concealing his face, blood red paint drawn across it's bone-white surface, in neat, simple lines. He had never really cared about his own appearance, and cared even less for the mask's, having spent very little time, or creativity in it's design.

He glanced around the large room, having reported to the hospital with several of the other ANBU operatives, immediately following his latest successful mission, and was now getting very fed up with waiting. It wasn't a bad injury, but he disliked leaving these things unchecked. It just sort of bothered him.

His shoulders stiffened, as another quick look behind himself showed a medic was indeed walking over. But it wasn't a medic he felt like dealing with. He directed his attention in front of him, trying not to draw attention to himself, but his tanned skin and dark, unruly hair were enough to betray his identity. "Momochi Zabuza," He exhaled noisily, the sound smothered by the mask, as he heard his name read, by an annoyingly familiar, unusually calm voice, and a rustling of a medical folder he assumed to be his own.

In the entire village, he could name two people he saw on a regular basis, who were either to brave, or perhaps too stupid, to be afraid of him. Ume Kotone and Kasumi Shinju.

Now the latter was giving him an almost motherly sort of scornful look, that probably had something to do with the former.

She took a seat, examining the shallow gash in his arm. "You come here often, don't you? And this is hardly life threatening," She commented after a tense silence that lasted far too short a time, for the much taller ninja's liking. "Some demon you are. Demon hypochondriac."

"I don't want it to scar." He answered gruffly, after a pause.

"So you're just a vain demon then?" Shinju scoffed, softly. "That's even more surprising."

"I dislike the thought of being stuck with a mark for the rest of my life, to remind me that I screwed up, and let an opponent get too close." He snapped, through gritted teeth. He had managed to keep his body unmarred for an impressively long period of time, given his profession, and rank. He wasn't about to ruin that.

"You broke her Zygomatic bone," The older shinobi said dourly, frowning more still when he refused to answer. "Perhaps I should rephrase that. I forget, you probably don't recognize medical terms that don't relate to killing? You broke her cheek bone. Badly."

His injury had been healed already, he could tell by the feel of his arm, and her sudden inaction. She simply sat next to him for a long moment, eyeing him scrutinisingly. He was seriously considering simply getting to his feet, and leaving, not pleased with being spoken to so contemptuously, but remained where he was. He had the feeling that having an familiarity with a medic nin might be useful someday. And being more acrimonious than completely necessary might ruin that.

"It's been two weeks. To the extent of my knowledge, you haven't spoken to, or seen her in that time." He didn't answer. "You're unconcerned? Not the slightest bit curious what's become of her? Where she is?"

It was tempting to simply not answer. Very tempting indeed. But for some reason, he ignored his better judgment, and shrugged. "She's a jonin. An elite, and competent ninja. She is perfectly capable of looking after herself. I have no reason for 'concern,' as you put it. She isn't my responsibility."

"I couldn't disagree more." The medic straightened her back, sitting up, still diminutive next to Zabuza's much taller frame. "A competent ninja, yes. Able to look after herself? Hardly. I swear, if Hiraku hadn't found her-" There was a notably sudden tenseness in the muscled arm her hand was still resting on. "-And convinced me to let me examine that fracture, I doubt she'd have gone to see a medic at all. And don't get me started on that infected shoulder. She's smart, but has absolutely no common sense."

He turned quickly, expression much more surprised, for a moment, than he would have liked. Thankfully the mask hid this, "She told me she got that taken care of."

"Clearly not."

"Stubborn little-" She heard him hiss quietly, between clenched teeth, behind the mask.

"It's strange to say that you, of all people, the supposed demon, or ogre, or whatever it is they call you, are a much more cooperative patient than a little Kunoichi." She paused, grimacing before correcting herself. "Though, I can hardly say little, anymore. She's nearly as tall as my brother... Speak of the devil," The older ninja inclined her head in the direction of another tracker nin, wandering into the room, casually removing the artfully teal-streaked mask from his face, shaking a bit of similarly coloured hair from his eyes.

"Nee san!" Hiraku was grinning stupidly. He was a shorter man, having reached his full height, a few inches shorter than Zabuza was, but had filled out nicely, build wise, and was without the still-lanky mist demon's angular frame. Zabuza let out another noisy breath, alerting the other to his presence. "Oh," His smile faltered, unpointed teeth biting at his bottom lip nervously. "I... I see your busy... I won't interrupt then," His voice was finished changing, he noted, and was quite a bit smoother than his own would be. "Make sure you're home, eh Shinju? We're going out for supper tonight, don't forget!" He still sounded slightly shaken, as he made his hasty retreat.

Zabuza couldn't help smirking. Scaring the crap out of Hiraku never got old.

vvvvvvvv

She drew in a chilled breath, as the same salty smelling ocean wind tousled her hair. Night was falling and the water looked dark, from the little spot near the docks she loved so, where Hiraku had found her licking her wounds, almost literally, two weeks earlier.

Kotone let her eyes slide shut, slumping against the wooden railing, mind wandering, emptying. She stayed like that for a long moment, before a faint, skilfully muted sound met her ears, a few small pebbles scattering as footsteps approached.

There was something like a disinterested sigh, and a familiar creak of the splintered fence, as weight was placed against it. The other remained quiet for a mong moment, Kotone refusing to look over.

"I don't want to talk to you."

A smirk. "I don't recall having said anything."

Kotone reluctantly let a small shiver travel down her spine, as the rough, gravelly voice she had only just starting to get used to answered her, wishing she hated it more than she actually did.

"I don't see why you're so upset," He said after another frightfully long silence.

"Zabuza, you hit me."

"And that's a problem because...?" He trailed off, her eyes narrowing angrily. "You're a kunoichi, aren't you?. We're both ninja, Kotone, fighting's all we really do. I lost my temper, and reacted as I've been trained, and you... well... I'm not really sure what you did. You got all emotional, or something." Zabuza grimaced, an odd, vaguely muddled look on his face . "I'm actually surprised you didn't just hit me back, and let that be the end of it."

"It wasn't that you hit me," The girl still refused to look over, inky blue hair obscuring her face, voice quiet. "It was that you hit me."

She was unsurprised by the long time before he answered. "You don't make much sense." Kotone was, often, as far as he was concerned, a thoroughly confusing, and overly complicated being, who became upset for reasons he considered trivial. For example, the happening two weeks earlier. With two jonin of their level, living together, what happened was inevitable.

Still, she was sulking, which for some reason, irked him somewhat. He wasn't good with the whole, "warm, fuzzy, comforting thing" Never had been, and never would be. Which, at the moment, was a bit of a problem.

"Look, it's never happened before, it never will again."

"Yes it has."

He quirked an eyebrow, unable to remember any previous incident. It was only when he caught her rubbing at her wrist absently that it occurred to him, mind wandering back to a time, six years ago that would forever be a tiny bit hazy, his mind muddled by anger, and a newfound resentment for the village, and it's leader. He'd acted rashly then too, which wasn't something he enjoyed doing, in retrospect. He greatly enjoyed being in control of himself, so, an unconscious, unplanned action, on his part, was unsettling.

More than anything else, it was fact that he hadn't, on either occasion, really chosen to hurt her that bothered him.

"You never apologized for that either."

"Apologies only mean so much." He shrugged, collectedly. "Not doing the thing again is actually practical."

She let out a quick, angry, sigh, turning to face him for the first time, face twitching into a sort of half-glare, as she examined the dark, baggy clothing favoured by the trackers, and the mask he was holding lazily. He wore an infuriatingly nonchalant expression on his face, the tiniest hint of a smirk forming. "Might I remind you that the first thing you did after we met was to punch me in the teeth?"

Kotone's eyes narrowed. "You kicked me."

"You scratched me." He added, noting how, though angry, it seemed to be more trivial now, her face showing more annoyance than hurt.

"You bit me with your creepy shark teeth." A vague hint of a smile had crept to her face, but she caught herself, frowning again, remembering that she was supposed to be angry.

"And then we forgot about it. It worked better than way." It was strange, to think that it had been almost ten years since they'd been partnered together, for such a ghastly purpose, no less. And somewhere during those ten years, as much as he hated to admit it, he had become fairly attached to her.

"It's strange, not having you around all the time." She looked up at him, suddenly, clearly surprised. "You can stay where you want, I don't care," He added, hastily, voice impersonal.

She quirked an eyebrow, expression suddenly critical, calculating. Zabuza grinned. It was exactly how he'd hoped she'd react. "If you don't want me to come back, why do this? Why are you talking to me if you don't care? Going out of your way to be friendly, now? That's unlike you."

"I have a proposition for you." He answered slyly. "Well... more something I think you might like to know. Two things, actually."

"Oh? And what would those be?"

His smiled widened, one viciously sharp tooth showing slightly. "The most well known division of the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai is the tracker unit,"

"Naturally. So what?"

"I wasn't finished. There are the less prominent divisions as well. The Reconnaissance unit, and," He chuckled. "The interrogations and torture department. They're small, and they don't recruit as often. However.. The leader of the branch was injured recently, can't fight anymore. Someone replaced him, of course, but..."

Kotone's eyes brightened. "That leaves an opening?"

"Bingo," He straightened himself, taking his weight off the fence, which he had been leaning his back against, turning to slump over it as she had, elbows resting on it's scraped, rickety surface. "You'd be perfect. Your taijutsu ability would be ideal for restraining targets without necessarily killing them right away, and your analytical skills are unrivalled...mostly."

"Wow..." The smaller of the two blinked, eyes focussed somewhere over the horizon. "That would be great..." She was quickly snapped from her reverie, spinning to face him, voice sharp all of a sudden. "Hey! What do you mean 'mostly?'"

"Oh, you haven't heard then?" He let out another low laugh, that she imagined was at her expense. "It seems that someone came pretty damn close to breaking your record a while ago. They way I hear it, she was two or three questions off."

She looked away, almost quizzically, half-sulking in a blatantly childish sort of way. "Oh."

"Don't feel bad," He teased, rather vindictively. "It was Aoyama Naoko, after all. She's apparently really something. Taught by Hoshigaki Kisame, himself."

"No way!" Kotone replied, suitably impressed. "Of the Shinobigatana? Seriously?"

"Yeah,"

The kunoichi stopped, before letting out a long sigh, lolling against the railing dismally. "Thanks for the news, Zabuza, but this doesn't do me much good. My interrogation abilities may make up for something, but eventually, the targets are all executed, and I can't dispose of bodies. They'll never let me join."

"You think so little of my planning," Zabuza's voice was mocking, confidant. She could easily recognize that tone. It meant he knew something she didn't. "I had two bits of information to share."

"Hold on a minute," She turned to face him completely, leaning against the fence with only one arm now. "What's the catch?"

Zabuza feigned innocence. Something he wasn't very adept at doing. "What catch?"

"You're not one to do something for the hell of it. There's got to be something in it for you. So what's the catch? I know there is one."

"Perhaps this is my way of making amends?"

"Is it?"

"You're the analyst, you tell me."

Kotone allowed herself a small giggle, before returning to business. "Ok, ok. What is it?"

"Something occurred to me a while ago... Nezumi Hatsuka can't use Katon jutsu either. Yet he made the team just fine. How's that?"

"Kuchiyose no jutsu," She answered flatly. "Their rats eat the bodies. What good does that do me? The Nezumi clan are the only ninja in the village who've gotten a hold of a contract. And you know how they are about people outside of their family."

"The only people who have one currently."

"What?"

"I did a bit of research," He started, "And it seems that for a while, a few people from our village had access to another summoning contract."

"Wait, wait," Kotone stammered, in disbelief. "You did research? You?"

"Research... Threatening Hatsuka into telling me... Same difference. "

"Ok, the second bit I'd believe. Anyways, why not anymore? What was it?"

"It's hidden in some cave or something, in a little place off the eastern coast. Called Namazu island. That's all he could tell me," The tall fifteen year old admitted. "And no one's gottenin in years, because...well..." He grinned wickedly. "Very few of the people who went into that cave came back in one piece. If you catch my drift."

"Hm," She stretched lazily, her icy blue eyes narrowed, in contemplation. "Killer caves that no one survives, eh? That sounds right up my alley."

"I thought it might."

She stepped away from the railing, taking a few lingering steps down the dirt path. "Where are you going?"

"Shinju and her family were going out to dinner tonight, and were kind enough to invite me along."

"I see."

She started walking in earnest. "Yeah, well I can hardly leave without taking the time to say goodbye, and thank them for their hospitality, now can I?" Kotone turned, grinning, in that blatantly feline way. "Oh, and Zabuza kun? Just for the record... you suck at apologizing. See you later."

Zabuza stayed there for a long while, not noticing as the evening grew colder, leaning against the railing, and it's fading red paint, smirking contentedly.

Wining felt good.

So... yeah n.n;; I'm not all that fond of this chapter... Thank you so much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review, and have an awesome day :3

Oh! XDD and points to anyone who put up with enough of the filler episodes to know who "That Kurosuki guy" referrs to XDD (I know he's filler XDD but for some reason, I loved the crazy weirdo XDD)