"Hey, Sensei?" Asked the dark haired boy, adjusting his goggles before resting his hands on the straps of his pack.
"Hmmm?" The blond male was preoccupied inspecting the large seal that Jiraiya had painted in the entryway. It was, thankfully, hidden from the sight of someone standing outside. Unfortunately, once they left he was fairly certain that Kusa-nin wouldn't politely wait outside until receiving permission to enter the house from Chiyoko-san's relatives.
"How come, if we came here by toad, we're not going back that way too?" Obito fidgeted restlessly next to his female teammate. Kakashi stood in the corner of the room with his back to the wall and arms crossed, surveying everyone expressionlessly, yet still managing to give off an air of impatience.
Chiyoko paused as she finished writing a letter to leave on the kotatsu, addressing her brother and explaining that she'd accepted a well-paying position as a tutor to some wealthy merchant children in Konoha. She would be in contact once she settled in her new home with directions on how to send the rest of her furnishings to her new abode. Minato had provided the "cover story," but warned her that from now on, she should always write as if her letters would be read by Kusagakure officials prior to reaching their intended audience. It seemed strange that after spending twenty four years as a law abiding citizen she would now be subject to such scrutiny—but, technically, she was fleeing the country on the verge of war to sign up her child for service to a foreign and possibly adverse military.
"Well," Minato said, frowning as he slapped a flat palm to the seal, moving it slowly over the wood. "It's really better for us at the moment to be seen escorting Chiyoko-san and her daughter in public as we leave this village."
"Really?" Obito's face scrunched in confusion. Just as quickly, he lost interest in the subject and distracted himself by examining a hanging scroll and the vase of artfully arranged sweet peas nestled under it.
"Yes." Minato licked a thumb and wiped it over the seal, then frowned. "Can you tell me why?"
Obito froze, "Ummm." He looked quickly between Kakashi and Rin, as if hoping one of them might volunteer to answer.
Kakashi ignored his teammate's eyes, but Rin quickly gave in and volunteered an answer.
"Is it because we want Kusa to know that she is coming of her own free will?" Rin pushed a stray piece of brown hair back behind her ear. "We don't want to let them think that we're kidnapping anyone, right?"
"They would think that?" Obito straightened in indignation, scowling as if offended by the very suggestion.
"Everyone knows we're going to war, it's not like we need to give them another reason to hate us, dum—" Kakashi cut the end of the sentence off with a quick glance at Chiyoko's disaproving face. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched back further into his corner. He might have been scowling at his shoes. Chiyoko couldn't tell exactly, as the boy's lower face was covered by a black mask. However, she'd seen enough scowling six year olds in her life that she'd bet good money he was sulking.
"Kakashi," Minato began, tone reprehensive, only to be cut off by a tug on his pants. He blinked and looked down into curious green eyes.
"Whatcha doin'?" Asked Katsumi gravely, fingers digging into the fabric around his kneecap.
The teenager gave a small smile. "I'm trying to remove the seal Sensei put up, but I think he was in such a hurry he accidentally made it permanent. And I'm afraid I'm not quite as adept at seals as he is just yet. I'm not sure I can remove it without damaging the wall."
Katsumi frowned. "That's bad?"
Minato sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not ideal. I'd rather Kusa not realize that we were hiding the inhabitants of this house, but it may be something that just can't be helped."
"Oh." Katsumi looked at the door thoughtfully before offering tentatively. "I have paint?"
"That…" Minato trailed off and considered the door for a few moments, "—might just work."
One hastily applied paint job later (which looked like a really strange abstract mural put together by an unsupervised, disobedient giddy toddler, but at least didn't look like a seal) Chiyoko and her entourage finally left her small house. She eyed the azalea by the porch with a sad smile. She'd spent years getting them to grow to their current height, painstakingly making sure the soil had just the right amount of acidity. Now she was abandoning them to future owners who'd probably root them out rather than spend the necessary time coaxing them to thrive.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and held her head high as they walked down the streets of the town. She held Katsumi's small hand tightly in her own.
The gaping faces of neighbors and the soft whispers of familiar voices that fluttered in her wake made her belly twist nervously. This is for the best, she reminded herself, relaxing her expression as much as she could. Both for Katsumi and for Hideki-kun. Let everyone think this was a planned move, a choice I made on my own simply based on a better job offer.
She noted several concerned glances from the people they passed; from those who knew her well enough to know how little her family voluntarily dealt with ninja. She was sure that Minato, as he walked slowly at the front of the group, didn't miss the exchange of coins and the subsequent dashes of quick little boys down the streets. He seemed to decide it was best to continue along the planned route. Chiyoko resolved to bow to his supposed experience in these matters and merely strengthened her grip on her daughter's hand until her daughter squeaked about being held onto too tightly.
Still, no one in the group blinked in surprise when they were met by a small cluster of Kusa nin at the town gates. She noted the presence of the two men who'd stopped by her house earlier, but they were now accompanied by two additional members; a serious looking woman and another curious male who bore a familial resemblance to Jiro-san.
Iwao, clearly the oldest of the group by a decade or so, stepped forward to confront their party. The early afternoon sun reflected sharply off his hitai-ate and Chiyoko was forced to raise her hand to shade her eyes, but Minato seemed unaffected by the glare.
"Shinobi-san," said Minato with a polite, shallow bow. "Can I help you?"
Chiyoko nervously looked over her shoulder, noticing the trickling in of the usual town gossips as they gathered under the eaves of the nearest shops. Her eyes scanned the faces quickly, but she saw no sign of Hideki. Another glance at the opposite lane revealed Shinji amongst a crowd of small boys his age, sprawling about some old barrels. Her nephew rubbed his nose, smearing some dirt across his face, but didn't act as if he recognized her.
Rin stepped close enough to bump into her side, bringing Chiyoko's attention back to the men conferring in front of her.
"What business do you have in our country?" Asked Iwao bluntly, eyes flickering over the group, resting a tad too long on both Obito and Kakashi. The boys stiffened under his gaze and glowered back at him, but didn't move for the weapons that she knew they had hidden on their persons.
"We were hired by a client to escort Kinoshita-san and her daughter to Konoha, so that she might take up a position in the client's household." The lie rolled off Minato's tongue easily, sounding so innocent when laid out in front of the inquiring Kusa-nin.
"What position?" Iwao kept his dark eyes trained on the blond teenager.
"She'll be a live-in tutor in the household of a merchant in Konoha." Minato made a show of shuffling through some of the pockets in his vest before removing a slim scroll. "Here," he said, holding out the scroll to the older ninja. "You'll find all the necessary signatures, and the requisite passage documents for legal entry into the country."
Iwao unfurled the document impatiently, quickly skimming its contents. "This was signed two days ago." He frowned and passed the scroll to his subordinates, who clustered together to pour over it with their own eyes. "You expect me to believe this employment was arranged and you were hired and traveled to Takai Bokusouchi within that time period?"
"Believe what you will," Minato shrugged. "But my team and I were on our way home from another mission when we received orders to make a detour and do escort duty for Kinoshita-san. It's been easy enough to accomplish."
The female Kusa nin parted quickly from her teammates and stepped up to whisper something in her superior's ears. Iwao's face could have been made of stone, but his eyes slowly slid to Katsumi and Chiyoko felt that her heart must have been switched with a rabbit's. Katsumi seemed to sense the increasing tension and maneuvered herself behind her mother and closer toward Rin, small fists never loosening their hold on Chiyoko's skirt.
"We stopped by your house two days ago, yes?" Iwao barked out his question.
Chiyoko started when she realized he was speaking to her. She carefully kept herself from looking to Minato for assistance. She didn't need a teenager to tell her what to say. "You did," she acknowledged, letting her fingers rest on top of her daughter's head.
"Why didn't you mention the likelihood of your move at that time?" The older ninja's dark eyes were fierce and Chiyoko felt like prey sitting under the glare of a hawk.
Chiyoko barely refrained from biting her lip, scooping up her daughter, and running back to her house. She swallowed. "This was something I heard about months ago, and wrote to demonstrate my interest in then, but when I didn't hear back from my possible employer I thought nothing would come of it. I didn't receive a job offer until these ninja brought an offer letter to me outlining my duties and compensation." She kept her breathing even, her words light. She couldn't meet the man's gaze, so she tried to stare at the gate past his head. "It's too good a job to pass up. I'll make more there than I could ever hope to make here, and I can better provide for my daughter that way."
The female ninja stepped forward then, pale, wispy bangs framing a deceivingly fragile face. "We could offer you similar opportunities here. We could find you better employment, and make sure your daughter has access to a better education, better job opportunities." The woman's chocolate eyes rested on Katsumi, still pressed against her mother and hiding her face from the group. "Her teachers report that she is quite intelligent for her age—" the kunoichi hesitated, appearing to struggle for the right words. Finally, she pursed her lips and settled for saying, "the girl's medical records also indicate that she has a lot of promise."
Chiyoko pushed down her instinctive flinch. That doesn't mean anything, Izumi promised she forged them. It's far more likely that this woman is one of those—sensor—people I was warned about and doesn't want to draw Minato's attention to anything if he hasn't noticed for himself yet.
She looked down at her daughter. "I don't think Katsumi wants to be a ninja, thank you though." And sadly, that's probably the only honest thing I've said in the last thirty minutes. She brushed Katsumi's bangs out of the girl's eyes before facing the kunoichi once more.
The woman looked frustrated and Jiro's relative made a strangled scoffing sound, but was hushed when Iwao waved his hand sharply in the air.
Chiyoko closed her mouth tightly to prevent giving into an inappropriate urge to giggle—or maybe it was cry. She wasn't certain at the moment. She'd never wanted to be in this position. She never wanted to be in a spot where she was essentially pitching her four year old daughter's future career potential to what was the better of two militaries, and yet somehow—That's what you get for indiscriminate sleeping habbits, said a bright bitter voice in Chiyoko's mind. It sounded suspiciously like her mother's. She imagined it was a cockroach and felt vindictively joyous when her mind conjured up the image of her squashing it flat.
Iwao grunted discontentedly and looked the group over one last time. His subordinates looked equally unhappy with the situation, but none were making a move to physically engage the foreigners.
Rin was still placidly cozied up to Chiyoko's side, but throughout the conversation Kakashi had migrated closer to Minato and Obito was now standing a few inches directly in front of her, hands crossed behind his head.
"You are going of your own free will then?" Iwao bit out, gesturing briefly at the school teacher.
Chiyoko bobbed her head. "Yes, I'm looking forward to the new job." She wanted to add more, something along the lines that it would be better for Katsumi's health, but Minato's blue eyes, gaze suddenly sharp, caught hers and her throat closed up tight.
Iwao grudgingly handed the scroll back to Minato. "Well then, I don't have a legal reason to detain you further." He stepped back, out of the middle of the road and swept his arm out, indicating they should move forward.
"My thanks, Shinobi-san!" Minato grinned brightly, as if the situation had been happily resolved for all parties. He moved on down the road and his genin stumbled after him. Chiyoko stood still a moment, and then moved to follow them stiffly. She threw one desperate glance over her shoulder as she passed under the arch of the gates, but Shinji-kun was gone. Only the four frowning faces of the Kusa nin remained.
Katsumi turned with her mother, inspecting the grimacing shinobi they were leaving behind. "Buh-bye," called the girl loudly, with a smile and a cheeky wave. "Have a good day!"
"Katsumi!" Chiyoko hissed and pulled the girl forward. In front of them, Obito made a choking sound that sounded suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh.
Orochimaru paused as the sound of the fourth forlorn sigh in the past half hour met his hears. He'd been planning on having the day to himself, to review the latest reports on the genetic testing Danzō had ordered, and perhaps adjust some of his hypotheses.
And then Jiraiya had shown up.
Isn't that just my life story?
He set down the petri dish he'd been inspecting and picked up his pencil to make some notations. Both he and Danzō had been hoping to move on to live trials by now, but with Sensei's stance on genetic experimentation in the abstract already so tentative it would be years—
Another sigh.
The pencil snapped in Orochimaru's hands. He blinked at it once. Resentfully.
"Aren't you bored?" Jiraiya questioned petulantly.
"I'm sure there are more entertaining places to be," murmured Orochimaru, refusing to look over his shoulder and encourage his teammate to engage in extended conversation. "I'm not keeping you from finding them."
Jiraiya grunted noncommittally.
The snake sannin carefully set aside the remains of his writing utensil and opened his desk drawer to search for another.
The rustle of cloth alerted him to Jiraiya's increasing moodiness.
"Don't touch," snapped Orochimaru, growing testy himself. What had he done to become the babysitter for Jiraiya's bad moods? Where was Tsunade when he actually needed her to bully someone into good behavior?
"You can't even see what I was doing. I could have been minding my own business." Jiraiya pushed his stool back with the unpleasant screech of metal on tile.
Orochimaru braced himself for company and quickly moved his vials to the far end of the desk, safe from Jiraiya's oafishly large hands, which were suddenly slammed on top of Orochimaru's reports.
"Let's go do something fun," Jiraiya said.
Orochimaru caught his own huff of impatience at the last second. He let the corner of his mouth twist in displeasure as he tried to pull his papers away from the toad sannin. "I don't think so."
"Oh, please?" Jiraiya sagged a bit. "I just need something to distract me."
"You've had quite enough distractions lately; I believe that's what's gotten you into this mess in the first place." Orochimaru firmly jerked his papers away and scooted a few inches to the side, settling down to resume his reading.
"Are you mad at me too then?" The white-haired man was taking on a disturbing resemblance to a scolded puppy.
How he detested it when the other man acted so childishly emotional.
Orochimaru lowered the papers, slightly, flicking his own yellow eyes over at one of the two people in the world who referred to him as 'friend.' "I'm not 'anything' at you," said the snake sannin, carefully measuring out his words. "I just don't care to be involved in dealing with the mess you've created, which includes sheltering you from the wrath of any female medic-nin you've offended or 'distracting' you from dealing with the consequences of your actions like any other adult."
Jiraiya visibly wilted, but the stubborn set of his chin told Orochimaru that he wasn't done sulking and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. Well, we'll see about that.
Orochimaru returned his attention to his papers, sorting the first few to the back of the stack. After all, it wouldn't do for Jiraiya to actually use the brain he'd been given for a few moments and start reading over Orochimaru's shoulders. "Why don't you go talk with Dan about it? I'm sure he'd be happy to accompany you for a few drinks."
As predicted, Jiraiya's face immediately twisted in a bitter scowl and he thumped the table top with his fists. The vials shook, but thanks to Orochimaru's foresight, nothing tottered off the edge of the desk to meet an untimely end. Orochimaru had relived that lesson far too many times between the pair of his ridiculous teammates to endure such an experience once more.
"Don't mention Dan, I don't want to talk about him" began Jiraiya darkly, the same way he always did when he got started on this topic.
So easy. Orochimaru allowed himself to feel a sliver of smugness.
Jiraiya crossed his arms and glared at the wall. "You know, I ran into him the other day and—"
The snake sannin pulled out the next page of the report, knowing it was safe enough to continue his studies as long as he gave the occasional nod and assenting noise.
"—and then the guy said he was sooooo excited to hear about my daughter, like he's going to have anything to do with her. Damnit Dan. Except, of course, he is, because I made Tsunade godmother even though I wasn't thinking of Do-Good Dan when I said that—"
"Of course," agreed Orochimaru. It looked like their experiments to manipulate the genes for eye colors were finally reliably successful. Which meant they'd isolated the correct genes for the eyes, and now could broaden their tinkering to see what it would take to achieve dojutsu—assuming the genes responsible for that were in the same location. Which they should be. The current theory was that a dojutsu was just a mutation, but to be able to successfully replicate one by modifying genetic structure they were going to have isolate the mutation. It'd help if he could study the DNA of individuals with dojutsu—how nice such things were easily accessible in Konoha. No one would blink over some strategically missing blood samples from the hospital labs over the next few months. Although, if he wanted them quicker, he could probably volunteer to help in triage for a week or so. Tsunade always did like it when he helped out at the hospital, and it would be good to have her owing him a favor again when he needed fresh materials for substrate.
"—and the worst thing is you can't even be mean to the guy because he's so nice! But, I mean, clearly Tsunade's set on him, which ok, I don't understand at all, but like you've said, it's her choice and if Do-good Dan makes her happy, then so be it. But he's already got a leg up on this parent business because he's got that niece of his that he's always doting on and now he thinks he's setting some kind of example for me and he's gonna be around all the time and-Damnit Dan. And why wouldn't my kid like him better than me from the get-go because that's just the way life works—"
"Mmmhh." Orochimaru reached for his pencil as he read, fingers blindly searching the tabletop until he remembered that he'd stored it behind his ear.
"—and hey, did you know I was talking to Sensei the other day, and now I'm thinking we might be stuck with Do-good Dan as Hokage one day?"
"What?" Orochimaru's head snapped up and his yellow eyes narrowed at his companion.
"Huh?" Jiraiya blinked at him, seemingly dazed to have been interrupted mid-rant. "Oh," he shook his head, white mane carelessly flinging about. "Sensei's just getting so tired, you know? And I think he's keeping an eye out for someone to succeed him after this war's blown over."
"And he's thinking of Dan?" The snake sannin raised a disdainful eyebrow.
"I don't know," Jiraiya muttered, put-out. "Dan's said he wants it, several times now. And Tsunade will speak for him. But I think he's half hoping that I'll show interest, or you will. But heck, I couldn't think of a more miserable job, and I can't imagine administration getting you hot and bothered enough to tear you away from your experiments."
Orochimaru turned back to his papers, not reading the contents. "I don't know," he murmured. He hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about what would happen once Sensei was no longer Hokage. Danzō would want the position, certainly, but the man was as old as Sensei and he had a feeling his teacher was hoping that the younger generations would step up and take on the heavy mantle of leadership. Danzō had his uses, but he was a bit outdated when it came to envisioning the future.
Orochimaru would have to devote more time to contemplating the matter, it wouldn't do for someone to take on the job who would limit or demand more accountability from Orochimaru and his projects.
Like Dan.
He felt Jiraiya's concerned gaze focusing on him and he withdrew from his thoughts. "I haven't given the matter much thought," he said simply.
"We've all been preoccupied," the toad sannin acknowledged, twisting around to lean his back against the table. "But if it's something you still want, you're actually going to have to leave the lab, you know? Talk with people? Make friends?"
Orochimaru pressed his lips together. Surely that hadn't been Jiraiya's plan to get him outside all along, had it? No. No, Jiraiya didn't think that way. This was just a serendipitous moment. He ought to go take stock of the gossip anyway; see if it really was time to decide if he wanted to pursue Sensei's position or devote himself fully to scientific progress. He wasn't as far along in his own research as he'd like to be, but Sensei was correct in recognizing that he wouldn't live forever.
At least, Orochimaru thought, hanging up his lab coat and ignoring Jiraiya's self-congratulatory crowing at dragging him out of the office, I won't have that same problem.
"So," Obito drawled. "Can we go back to Konoha with the toads now?"
"Obito," his teacher sounded harried, shoulders drooping a bit. Katsumi's head bobbed with the dip, but she didn't wake from her impromptu piggy-back nap.
The girl had lasted through about three hours of walking, but early afternoon, about thirty minutes past her normal nap time, her attitude had quickly deteriorated into tired, pained fussing. It didn't help that blisters were already beginning to appear on her feet. Katsumi had never had to walk very far before and her feet hadn't built up the necessary calluses for such a journey. Chiyoko imagined that would change by the end of the trip.
Chiyoko meant to carry her daughter herself. Minato intervened, pointing out that it would hardly faze him to do so, but it would quickly wear out Chiyoko. Chiyoko had to admit his argument had merit, even if she was a bit miffed at his quick (and accurate) assessment of her non-existent physical endurance. She didn't know whether to apologize for the fact that her child was now drooling on the shinobi's shoulder or treasure the internal feeling of passive-aggressive pleasure at the scene.
Minato was taking it like a champ, though. He had to have noticed by now and she hadn't caught so much as a grimace. His youngest student however, clearly disapproved of her daughter's behavior. Chiyoko was going to have to watch what the boy said to Katsumi, something about him bothered Chiyoko. Maybe it was his affect—or lack of it. He clearly had some issues, and whatever they were, she didn't want him taking them out on her daughter.
She tuned back in to the conversation, realizing she'd missed Minato's explanation and that he'd finally resorted to her personal favorite argument, "because I said so."
"Why not," Obito pouted at the front of the group, walking backward so that he could face the group as he chatted. "Toad-travel is so awesome, Sensei!" He enthusiastically 'wooped' and punched a fist in the air.
Rin rolled her eyes from where she kept pace beside Chiyoko.
"Well for one," Kakashi finally contributed, "we're being followed." The omitted 'dumbass' after the spoken statement managed to echo loudly among the travelers for all that it went unsaid.
"No we're not," Obito stuck out his tongue. "I would have noticed by now."
Minato sighed.
"Wait, we are?" Obito ran forward to study the road behind them intensely, only to trip on Kakashi's outstretched foot. He went down with a high-pitched yelp, popping back up with a cloud of dust and trying to unsuccessfully pull Kakashi into a headlock.
"Boys," Minato said sternly.
The two immediately pulled apart and straightened, taking up positions on opposite sides of the road.
"They've been trailing us since we left," reported Rin dutifully. "I'm pretty sure it's the woman and one of the younger guys, but I haven't seen them. They're staying quite a ways back."
"Yes," agreed Minato. "I doubt they'll confront us, but I do think they'll follow us to the border."
"Are we there yet?" Obito looked longingly down the road. He didn't wait for an answer, but turned to give Chiyoko a mournful once-over. "This is going to be a long trip, isn't it?"
Minato laughed softly, gently adjusting Katsumi on his back so she didn't wake. Ok, maybe she was being too hard on the teenager.
"Most clients don't travel at ninja speed, Obito-kun," chided Rin, pushing her hands out in front of her in a stretch.
"I refuse to apologize for my status as a normal human being," Chiyoko contributed dryly, feeling amused when all three children recoiled at the show of humor.
"I didn't mean-," Obito stuttered and his eyes widened. "I just don't get what the big deal is. Why do they want you so bad anyway? You're just a school teacher."
Kakashi snorted. "It's not her they want." He looked meaningfully at the sleeping four year old. "They want the girl."
"Katsumi-chan?" Obito tilted his head as he considered the smallest of the children present. "What for? Why?"
"They want her to be a shinobi." Chiyoko decided to cut off whatever explanation Kakashi was about to give.
"Is that-uhm?" Obito looked even more confused. "Do you think that's a bad thing?" His dark eyes were big and round behind his orange-tinted goggles, his voice small and quiet.
"Not necessarily," explained Chiyoko. "I don't think there is anything wrong with being a shinobi, but I don't like the way Kusa recruits and treats civilian-born shinobi. They don't give their civilian recruits the same training or medical care as their shinobi-born recruits. This makes the life expectancy of their civilian-born shinobi very short."
Rin made a sound of agreement. The boys listened to Chiyoko carefully, but Minato's face was a carefully schooled mask that she couldn't read.
"So, you just don't want her to be a Kusa shinobi?" Obito asked for clarification.
Chiyoko looked forward, wondering how long it would take for them to reach the tree line in the distance. Katsumi's cheeks were turning quite pink after all this time in the sun and Chiyoko hadn't thought to bring sunscreen. She'd have to pick up some in the next town, maybe even a hat, but until then, Katsumi was going to be a little miserable between the blisters on her feet and her sunburned skin. Poor baby. My mother would never have forgotten sunscreen.
She banished all thoughts of her own mother to the back of her mind and let out a deep breath. "I'd rather her not be a ninja at all, to be honest." It wouldn't do to start her new life by lying. Minato, at the least, was certainly trained to detect deceit. She'd rather be honest than have them wondering what she was trying to hide with her lies.
"Then why are you bringing her to Konoha?" Obito blinked up at his teacher, as if begging him to make sense of the situation.
The school teacher tugged at her bracelet, taking comfort from rolling the smooth, familiar beads between her fingers. "Sometimes you can't provide your child with the opportunities you'd like to, no matter how hard you work or how much you wish things could be different." She gave the dark headed boy a sad smile. "I'm afraid that, for Katsumi, avoiding shinobi life isn't going to be an option. Perhaps things would be different if war wasn't so likely, but—" she trailed off wistfully.
Kakashi stiffened and looked even more uncomfortable, picking up his pace so he could walk at the head of the group.
"I thought parents had to sign off on their children going to the Academy?" Rin asked tentatively.
Chiyoko pretended to be preoccupied finding her water bottle as she answered. "If Kusa decides they want your child for their military, saying no isn't an option. I lost three of my four brothers that way. I wanted better for Katsumi, so I made a deal to get us out Grass Country, and into Konoha. She'll still have to join your military, but she'll be better protected, have better training, have better medical care. I wish I could give her more—the opportunity to decide what she wants to do, to choose who she wants to be. But that's not going to be an option, so I'm doing what I can to give her the best life possible based on the choices that are available."
Chiyoko felt inexplicably drained after finally putting what she was doing into actual words. It sounded so cold, even if it was the most logical decision. The children—genin, she corrected herself, were quiet and subdued after her little speech. Chiyoko watched the dirt and gravel pass underneath her feet.
"Well," Minato cleared his throat, "I think Katsumi-chan will find that there are still many opportunities available to her in Konoha as a kunoichi. And you are right, I may be biased, but I do think that, as far as shinobi military go, Konoha's is the best. And I'm certain we can find a way for Katsumi to be happy there, as well as useful."
Chiyoko nodded wearily, but was relieved from responding when Katsumi pulled Minato's hair and demanded to be let down.
"I think she'd rather have the pink one," admitted Jiraiya, subtly recoiling from the bundle of fabric Tsunade was pushing up at his face.
Tsunade bit back a snarl. "Blue is a good color. It's a calming color," she managed to get out through grit teeth. Of course the girl would like pink.
"Honey," Dan said patiently, appearing with the pink version of the comforter she was tensely holding. "If she'd rather have pink, you should let her have pink. It's not your room and it's not going to kill her." He handed the requested item to Jiraiya and cheerfully slapped the perturbed looking man on the shoulder. "I'm so glad you asked for help picking out Katsumi-chan's things. Now, have you thought about toys?" Dan grinned, gesturing to the aisles eagerly. "I know Shizune has some ones she's outgrown, but you should probably have some new ones waiting for her too." The sound of his voice faded as he headed back into the bowels of the children's store.
He doesn't have to be so happy about it. Tsunade turned her glower from her fiancé, who was far too comfortable hauling about armfuls of fluffy stuffed animals for a trained killer, to her idiot teammate.
"I didn't invite him," defended the man hastily, raising the comforter as if it were a shield.
Tsunade snorted. "You're the one who barged into my office begging for me to help you go shopping for your daughter and her mother. It's not my fault you weren't paying attention to who was with me at the time." For being such a flirt himself, Jiraiya had notoriously bad timing for interrupting other people's affairs. If she didn't know better, she'd say he'd done it on purpose. Dan, of course, was only too happy to drop everything and help a friend in need, especially now that he'd decided to be Jiraiya's personal mentor in this whole 'parenting' thing.
It was only fair to take her revenge by loading up Jiraiya's arms with ridiculously frilly, extravagant items. "Don't forget the pillow cases," she dropped some trimmed with lace on top of the comforter in Jiraiya's arms. "And some throw pillows." Wasn't it convenient that they had some shaped like lady bugs and daisies?
"I feel absurd," admitted Jiraiya, looking at the items in his arms as if they were new and foreign creatures. Tsunade eyed the pillow shaped like a kitten. Probably overkill. She understood the feeling though, her own 'toybox' had been full of rubber kunai and occasionally real ones she'd snuck from her grandfather's desk drawers. She was fairly certain that if she'd ever been given a neon orange stuffed dolphin, she would have used it for target practice.
On second thought, that's pleasingly fluffy. She added it to Jiraiya's pile. "I heard we got some intel today about skirmishes in Suna." She moved forward down the aisles, leaving children's bedding and heading into the more general décor items.
"Yeah," Jiraiya mumbled, "Sensei's going to deploy three teams 'cuz they're clamoring for aid, but he wants me to head to the capital once everything is settled here. He's more worried about some of the reports he received about Iwa nin still operating within our own borders." Jiraiya stared broodily at a clock shaped like a hedgehog.
Tsunade decided to suspend her disbelief in the veracity of the girl's alleged paternity for a few moments. "They'll be fine, you know."
Jiraiya jolted out of his staring contest with inanimate objects. "What?"
"The girl and her mother," clarified Tsunade impatiently. "They'll get here fine. Minato's a good kid, you taught him well. He won't let anything happen to them on the way here, and he'll find a way to get them out if they got in trouble."
Jiraiya's shoulders relaxed slightly and he smiled. "Yeah, I—"
"Look at these!" Dan popped his head around the shelves at the end of the aisle, beaming, holding out several dresses. "Aren't they adorable? They come with coordinating shoes and purses."
"Are those purses shaped like koi?" Tsunade settled for asking, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the riotous display of color.
"Yes, they get so creative with kids clothes," Dan said happily, adding the items to Jiraiya's pile of prospective purchases. "They're having a two for one sale, so I'm going to go get matching ones for Shizune."
"Right," agreed Tsunade weakly, watching Dan's back disappear around the corner before turning to share a look of bewilderment with Jiraiya.
At least, she thought she would be sharing a look of bewilderment, but Jiraiya was staring forward, lost in thought.
"How does he keep his teeth so white?" mused the toad sannin, brows furrowed.
"No," stated Tsunade. "We're not going there." She gazed around the shelves for a change of subject. "Do you even know what your kid likes anyway?"
Jiraiya cast considering eyes upon a ceramic frog bank.
"No," repeated Tsunade. "Try again."
"Foxes?" The man eventually said, sounding uncertain as he picked up a lamp with the hand not clutching fabric, holding it out for Tsunade's inspection.
Tsunade took the fox shaped lamp hesitantly. "That's cute?" She was guessing. What's wrong with a lamp being shaped like a lamp? Why does it need to look like something else? I don't get kids things at all, she internally grumbled. Yet another reason I probably shouldn't have any.
They should probably check with Dan.
"See, the blisters are forming because your shoes are just a bit too small, you've outgrown them recently," explained Rin as she ran a glowing, green hand along Katsumi's foot.
"Mom!" Katsumi leaned forward with a frown, watching the medic nin work intently. "I need new shoes, Mom."
"Sorry baby," and Chiyoko really did feel bad about that. "We'll get some in the morning." Shoes and a hat, she thought guiltily, watching the young girl patch her daughter up. How was I so busy I didn't notice my own child's shoes didn't fit? She was lucky they were able to stop in a small village tonight, and that she'd have an opportunity to get the items the next day.
"It'll be all right," said Rin. "It's actually not too bad, because I can just move the dead skin around to build up calluses. You're lucky skin regeneration is one of the first things they teach us. We can't do large wounds of course, but we start with paper cuts and I've already worked my way up past blisters." Rin sounded proud of her accomplishments and Chiyoko managed to smile gently in return.
"I bet your teachers are very proud of you," commented Chiyoko.
"Yes." Rin nodded, pulling away from Katsumi to shuffle through some items in her own carry sack. "I can't do much for sunburn though, other than the basic medicinal cream I have. I mean, it shouldn't be too different in theory, but they haven't taught us that yet and we're not supposed to try things on our own unless the injury is potentially fatal." She pulled the lid off a jar and a strong herbal smell wafted into the air.
"Of course," said Chiyoko, feeling faint. This was going to be her world now. A world where eight year olds were trained and expected to be able to successfully treat life threatening wounds inflicted upon them and their peers. It had been what she wanted even, hadn't it?
"Cold!" Katsumi squealed, pulling back from Rin's hands.
"Hold still, silly!" Rin giggled, but cajoled the four year into allowing her to put the rest of the soothing salve across her face.
A knock on the door of their room in the inn had all three women turning expectantly toward it.
Minato poked his head in the girls' room with a polite smile. "I just wanted to let you know I'd be heading out for a while—"
Obito squirmed past his teacher's legs and bounced into the room, jumping onto the bed next to Katsumi.
Minato rolled his eyes and pushed the door open fully, revealing Kakashi standing with him as well.
"I'm leaving the boys here, and I want you to stay too Rin," the blond gestured to his female student. "I'll be back in the morning, and I'll need everyone to be ready to leave by then."
"Oh," Chiyoko said. "I'll need to pick up a few things from the shops in the morning before we get back on the road."
"That will be fine," Minato agreed. He made as if to close the door, then paused. "One more thing," he looked sheepishly at Chiyoko. "Would you make sure the boys get to bed at a decent hour?"
"Oh my god, Sensei," gasped Obito, horrified. "We don't need to be tucked in."
Minato leveled them a look that implied he seriously questioned that but wasn't going to point out the fallacy of that argument in public.
Kakashi pretended the room was empty.
Rin just giggled.
"Sure," said Chiyoko. "Not a problem. I'll make sure they're in bed in their own room by nine."
"Nine?" Obito gawped, falling backward on the bed and clutching at his chest in mock pain.
"You'll live," Minato drawled. "And I wouldn't have to do this if we hadn't had that problem the last time we went on an out-of-village trip."
Obito hissed.
"We'll be good, Sensei," muttered Kakashi subdued.
"We'll all be good," promised Rin dutifully. "No one will try to follow you."
"They'd better not," said Minato giving a smile to the boys that felt a little threatening. "And thank you, Chiyoko-san, I appreciate it."
With that, Minato slipped out from the room, to go do-whatever it was he was going to do. Chiyoko just realized she had no idea what the man was headed out to accomplish. And neither did his students, if the mulish, wistful looks they threw at the door meant anything.
Rin stood with a stretch. "I'm going to head to the kitchen to see if they have any soybean oil or sesame seed oil. If they do I think I can make some sunscreen for Katsumi-chan to use tomorrow."
"Really?" Chiyoko perked up, that would be one more thing off her list.
"Yes," promised Rin. "I can show you, it's really simple. Shinobi don't generally use sunscreen because the smells give us away, but it should be fine for Katsumi to use it. We're not in a situation that it would put her in danger. We could use it too if there's enough extra."
"I'd love that." Chiyoko stood in relief, she started to ask Katsumi to come with her, but quickly realized, as she took in the droop of her daughter's head, that the girl would be better off left to rest here.
"I'll be right back sweetheart," Chiyoko bent down and placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "You can go ahead and sleep if you want to." She pulled away and addressed the two boys. "You'll both stay with her right? Until I get back, then you can go to your own room."
"Of course," puffed Obito indignantly. "We can watch her."
Kakashi said nothing, but took the chair by the window.
"Kakashi-kun," insisted Chiyoko. "You won't leave her right? I have your word?"
Kakashi looked offended she insisted on his promise. "She's the mission."
Chiyoko frowned, uncertain as to what that statement meant.
Rin tugged on her hand. "It's alright Chiyoko-san, they won't leave her. Kakashi never abandons his mission and Obito won't abandon his friends." And with that reassurance, Chiyoko allowed the smaller girl to lead her out the door.
Obito wrinkled his nose at the closed door and pulled his goggles off, twisting them in his hands. There was no need to wear them inside, and no matter how Kakashi acted, it was seriously unlikely Kusa nin were going to jump through the window and try to nab a toddler.
He eyed the yawning girl speculatively. He still didn't get what was so special about her that Kusa would demand she become a shinobi, or that Konoha would want her as one of theirs. She was a sweet kid and all, and seemed bright, but still. Bakashi was bright too and he was a gigantic asshole who'd probably ditch him and Rin if it was easier to accomplish a mission without them.
"Bedtime," said Katsumi simply, snuggling into the nest of covers she was wrapping around herself.
"It was a long day, huh?" Obito prompted the girl, flopping on his stomach on the bed across from her, trying to sound sympathetic. She was much littler than them, after all. And she had no training whatsoever. And really short legs. His own cousins would probably be tired too. Even they would have needed to be carried for part of a day trip like this.
Kakashi snorted.
Katsumi scowled. "You're rude."
Obito stopped chewing on the strap of his goggles.
"And you're a baby," drawled Kakashi disdainfully, not taking his eyes off the window.
"I'm four," recited Katsumi. "You're six. You only have two more years than I do. If I'm a baby, you're not much better."
She's really well spoken for a four year old, thought Obito idly, carefully watching Kakashi and wondering how the other boy would handle the comment.
"I'm a professional," corrected Kakashi coldly. "You're an uneducated, inexperienced, vulnerable civilian who is likely to be a liability far longer than it will take for you to actually be useful in the oncoming war. You rely on parents and friends to survive and aren't self-sufficient in the slightest. Your upbringing has disadvantaged you for this career and your investment in emotional ties will only hinder your future endeavors."
Obviously not well. "Kakashi," Obito began to warn. I should really know better by now than to let Kakashi open his trap around clients. And Sensei thinks I'm an impulsive hothead.
"You're wrong," interrupted Katsumi, looking at them, eyes bright and focused.
Obito felt strange, like the scene was wrong somehow. Maybe it was how calm Katsumi was. Most children her age wouldn't grasp the full implications of such an insult, but they'd know enough of the tone and the words to lash out at the aggressor. She should be crying. Throwing a tantrum.
"I am smart, not like you, but I am." Katsumi defended herself calmly. "And I have experience, even if its in different things than you do. I don't think I'll be a good shinobi, but I never said I wanted to be. I don't need to be a good shinobi to be able to be good at things and be useful. I'm better than you at some things already."
Obito bit his lip, sitting up on the bed and crossing his legs. Ok, so the kid was more advanced than he'd given her credit for being.
"That's ridiculous," Kakashi replied, still watching the window. "And clearly you aren't, because you've become emotional now that I've pointed out your flaws. You're upset and defensive. Ninja don't show emotions. And," added Kakashi, throwing a dark look at Obito, "that means they don't have friends, despite whatever impression Rin has given you."
What a little punk. Obito stuck his tongue out at the other boy.
"You're wrong." Katsumi frowned. "I'll show you that you're wrong."
Kakashi stayed silent, apparently deciding he wasn't going to further a verbal spat with a four year old.
Katsumi smiled, and Obito felt a shiver run down his spine. He was glad that look wasn't directed at him.
"In fact," Katsumi said, shuffling about in her bed, laying her head down on her pillow, "I'll start right now."
Kakashi rolled his eyes and Obito looked on, amused.
"Lights out, please, it's bedtime," said Katsumi, voice slightly muffled as she buried her head into the pillow.
Obito gaped, "but it's only seven thirty!" He knew he was whining, but hell, he'd been hoping for a little more time in the light. Judging from the way Kakashi bristled, he wasn't exactly eager to 'go to bed' either.
"You can still play ninja in the dark," soothed Katsumi.
Play ninja? Obito puffed out his cheeks. "Hey now—"
"But I'm the client. Minato said so," Katsumi yawned again. "And I say lights out."
Obito deflated, were they really being successfully bossed about by a four year old? Why did she have to be intelligent enough to realize she held some theoretical semblance of power?
"We get to make the decisions affecting your safety," Kakashi stated. "And it's safer for us to watch you with the lights on until your mother returns."
Right, that's right Kakashi, you tell her—nrghhh! Obito was not agreeing with Kakashi, he wasn't. He didn't want to bow to the whims of a four year old, either. He was going to eat his goggles.
"Lights out or I'll scream," said Katsumi sweetly.
Little shit, Obito thought, scowling at Kakashi as their eyes adjusted to the dark, waiting for Chiyoko-san to return.
"Now?" The male ninja muttered the words low, shifting his weight impatiently from foot to foot as he crouched with his partner in the shadows of the inn's neglected garden.
"They're not sleeping yet," murmured Azami, as still as Jiro was fidgety. "I want the boys to be in their own rooms when we go in." They'd been over this before, several times. The plan was simple, slip in, get the girl, and be long gone before anyone noticed.
"What if Babysitter comes back?" Jiro hissed, eyes trained on the dark windows.
"He won't," reassured Azami. Jiro was always uncomfortable when he wasn't in charge of the plans. He liked loud, noisy, and noticeable. Which was exactly why Azami was taking the lead tonight. They'd been wandering over town all afternoon, whispering in the right ears to make sure there were enough 'plants' to keep the lead Konoha nin busy for hours. Babysitter had barely been gone forty five minutes. The children would all be sleeping soon, and by the time everyone woke in the morning, she and Jiro would be far enough from the group that, even if they were suspected, it would be impossible to catch up to them before they had the girl securely secreted away. With his own charges safe and unharmed, and the girl's mother still present to take to their client, Konoha wouldn't be able to press for the civilian child without breaking their alliance.
Of course, if they were caught with the girl before they could squirrel her away, Kusa would be in breach themselves. But that wasn't going to happen. All they needed to do was wait.
"I think I've got gravel in my boots."
Azami didn't react, she'd had ten years of tolerating Jiro's inability to stay still for two minutes. It would take more than that to get a rise from her.
Jiro plopped on the ground to shake out his shoes, peering into them suspiciously when no small rocks tumbled forth to appease him. "I don't see why you and Sensei think we should grab her," he began to lace his boots up again. "Or, if we are going to the trouble of grabbing her, why we aren't taking the other kids too."
"Because that would be an act of war," repeated the kunoichi patiently. "Those children are already pledged to Konoha's military, and one of them is an Uchiha. We aren't trying to get the country razed before the war even begins. The girl is still legally ours, for the moment. If she wanders off here, Konoha has no grounds on which to demand her return."
Azami wasn't the most powerful ninja, but she had honed the small skill set she did have to perfection. It was why she was so perfect for the recruiting missions they'd recently been assigned to, much to the dismay of her two male team mates. She could tell the women were coming back upstairs, and the boys separated to head toward their own quarters for the night. Not long now.
Kusa wasn't like Konoha, they didn't have the resources in their population to pull from to create a large and intimidating shinobi force. It wasn't fair for Konoha to be stealing promising children born in other countries for their own already significantly superior forces. Whether the mother truly was leaving for work or not, eventually someone in Konoha with an ounce of chakra-sense would notice the girl. That child had too much chakra to come from two civilian parents. To Azami's senses, the child practically glowed compared to her age mates. The mother was a school teacher, but the father must have been a ninja. Azami didn't care about the particulars apart from that fact. She'd been sent to find children like this one, and she wasn't going to let them slip through her fingers when she did.
"They're sleeping," she relaxed her shoulders. Compared to the waiting, this was the easy part. She pushed Jiro down when he tried to rise to his feet alongside her. "I can nab a sleeping toddler on my own, don't worry."
She left Jiro spluttering in the garden, with orders to keep an eye out for Babysitter, but she pulled out a small bottle of ether from her vest pockets, just in case.
Rev. 5/2/16
Thanks to ElectraSev5n for bouncing ideas around for these chapters and helping me polish up things to be presentable!