There was something so… calming, maybe, about having dirt-covered hands. It sounds weird, I know, but there's not really any other way I can describe the feeling of grime under your fingernails and cool dirt packing beneath your knees, of soft grass depositing its dew on your calves as you kneel next to a box of flowers ready to be planted.

"Um... does the astilbe go next to the fence?" I wiped my hands off on my pants and stood up, so I didn't have to crane my neck as far to look at Dad. They grew pretty tall, so he probably wanted them in the back, but the fence only went three fourths around the garden, and it was covered in honeysuckle that he might not have wanted hidden. The other fourth of the garden border was taken up by a large mangrove tree whose leaves made that corner of the garden particularly dark. This meant that there weren't many flowers to cover up, but it also meant that there weren't many flowers to plant in the first place. Of course, the entire compound was shaded by trees to some extent, but the rest of the garden at least got the slivers of light that managed to seep through the foliage.

"The astilbe?" Dad asked. "This is the white type, right?"

"Yeah. But we have some red too."

He hummed and crossed his arms. "Do you think they would look good by the fence?"

"The red might look better. Or maybe another flower? If we put the whites there, they'll blend with the honeysuckle and look bad."

"Good idea." He knelt and picked up some of the flower pots sitting in a box next to me- lamb's ears, rather than astilbe. "I think I'll save the astilbe for now." There was a beat of thoughtful silence before he continued, "Tell you what. Why don't you go inside for a little bit, and I'll call you back out when I'm done."

"'Kay." I brushed my knees off and walked back inside, hoping Mom wasn't around so she wouldn't get upset with me for tracking dirt in the house. Lucky for me, the living room was empty, so I pulled my ratty sneakers off and headed upstairs to take a shower. Even if I didn't really mind getting dirty, staying dirty was a whole other thing, and staying dirty inside was yet another. In any case, the heatwaves had decided not to wait for summer, and I would rather not smell like sweat.

Once my shower was done, I sat down in the living room with a book. Dad had told me he would call me back out when he needed me, and I didn't want him to have to go through the hassle of trying to find me. Our house wasn't particularly large, but the walls were fairly thick, so calling for people was practically impossible. Then again, there were only so many rooms, and even then only so many that I would likely be found in.

Sometime after I'd fallen into a trance, trying to translate my book without referencing a dictionary, the doorbell rang. I perked up and turned around so I was looking at the door, but didn't go to answer it, since Mom and Dad got upset when I did. Sure enough, I blinked and Mom was there, holding Konohamaru and pleasantly greeting whoever was there.

He returned her greetings (in a smooth, deep voice that I instantly envied) and stepped inside. Older ninja always moved super fast, so I didn't get a good glimpse of them, but as Mom presumably led him to the kitchen I got a peek of long, graying hair and some sort of flowy, earthy red top before they disappeared behind the wall.

Now, I wouldn't call myself nosy, but surely if Mom had let him into our house then they were cool. Not only invited him inside, but made him tea, if the high-pitched whine of the kettle was anything to judge by. In any case, hearing water boiling made me want tea, so I left my book on the couch and crept as quietly as I could towards the kitchen. The entryway didn't have a door or anything, and even if it did I was the only one that ever fucking closed doors around here, so it would have been open. Stealth was of utmost importance here.

Thankfully, I'd retained vague memories of 3 A.M. kitchen raids from my past life, so I knew to stick to the walls, and how to walk lightly. It was different, of course, seeing as I'd lost, like, a hundred pounds and two or three feet since then- and, now that I thought about it, I'd never actually heard the floors creak despite the house being one of the oldest ones in the Sarutobi compound- but I liked to think that I was developing good habits.

"Do you have a preference?" Mom was asking. The knob on the stove clicked as she turned it off, and I heard the teapot scrape against the countertop as she set it down. "We, err, we don't have much besides chai. I think there might be some green tea in here too?"

"Ah, no that's fine. I'll just have some chai," the stranger chuckled (fuck! How did his throat do that?). "I heard you were just in Suna. I don't suppose you picked anything up there?"

"Oh, of course." There was a bit of rustling as Mom shuffled through the pantry, then a soft clank as she set a metal box on the counter. "Our client gave this to us as a gift. I'm hoping it's decent, since he was one of those princely..."

She faltered a bit before sighing and setting something ceramic, or maybe glass, on the counter. "Hinoishie."

'Shit. Is she gonna be more pissed if I go in, or if I run? Should I pretend I'm not here?'

"I know you're there, Hinoishie."

'Fucking ninja.'

The stranger laughed again as I walked into the kitchen. "So this is the Hinoishie I've heard so much about."

"Heard so much about?" Was he friends with my parents? I guessed that would explain why Mom had let him in, and how he knew she'd been in Suna. Though, I vaguely remembered her having friends over, and I was pretty sure she hadn't talked to them like she had this guy. Maybe he was just a special friend, or something? Maybe an uncle? He looked old enough, for sure.

"Uh-huh. Your parents tell me you've got a lot of potential."

"Oh." I smiled and toyed with a lock of hair that had wriggled its way out of my messy bun. "Thank you." It wasn't really any actual merit so much as an extra decade, but I'd be lying if I said I couldn't still appreciate an invalid compliment.

He smiled warmly. "Actually, I suppose it's good that you're here. I was just about to talk to your Mom about you."

"Right, right," Mom said, opening the metal box and grabbing a spoon and a strainer from one of the drawers. She filled the two glasses she'd set on the counter, then paused and got another (smaller, to my disappointment) glass from a cabinet. "Hinoishie, why don't you sit down?"

"'Kay." I did as she said, frowning. "Am I, uh, in trouble?"

"In trouble?" The man covered his mouth and laughed. "No, no. Not at all. The opposite, in fact."

"Oh. That's good." Absently, I notice that my hand had also moved to cover my nervous grin. Now that I thought about it, Mom covered her mouth too. All the Sarutobi I knew did, though the ones that had married into the clan seemed to take longer to do it. Weird... I'd have to ask Mom about it.

"Mhm. Yes, you're not in trouble at all. Do you understand inheritance?"

I had to take a moment to parse that last word. I didn't hear it often, but I was at least able to sew a meaning together from fuzzy memories. "Kind of. Um, why?"

"Very good. Did you know that your grandfather was supposed to be clan head?"

"No."

"Well, he was. Do you know who became head instead?"

Uh, no again. But the tone he posed the question with suggested that maybe... "You?"

"Correct! But I can't do this forever." He sighed and tugged at a curly lock of salt-and-pepper hair. "I'm getting old, you know. And I need someone to replace me when I step down."

"Shouldn't Mom do it?" I asked, confused. I was hardly close enough to Grandpa on the family tree to be part of this conversation, was I? I mean, I guessed I wasn't so far, but still; Mom was directly after Grandpa, then Uncle Asuma before me, and neither of them were that old.

"Correct again." He covered a grin with his hand again, and I wished I hadn't noticed because now it was sort of bothering me. "If something happened, your mother would become head, or your uncle if she couldn't. However, I'm not here because I think something's going to happen to me, so much as there are a lot of things you need to learn for when you do become head."

When? Was I not getting a choice in this, or what? And for that matter, "Why? Why not Mom?"

"Your Mom already learned this stuff when she was a kid. So did your uncle. Even if they hadn't, they would be too old now to be trained. You, however, are just the right age. By the time you need to become head, you'll have learned everything you need to know. And then some, likely. " He paused and turned to Mom. "How old are you again, Kuma? Fifteen?"

"Twenty-seven," she said, frowning. "My lord, are you sure you're not too old to lead? You seem to have forgotten the last twelve years."

"How am I supposed to remember that you're an adult when you have the attitude of a teenager?"

She harrumphed and set a glass down in front of him. "Just drink your tea." Then, as an afterthought, "Old man."

Hey, y'all. Sorry about the wait, and that this chapter is kind of short. I'll try to be better about that, but if I were you all I wouldn't expect particularly quick updates for a while. I'm going to try writing the chapters all at once, so we'll see how that works out. As always, if you favorite, like, or leave a review on my story, I'll give you my firstborn (don't worry about how that's going to work). Ciao, ciao!