"Seven minutes and thirty seconds….and now, seven minutes and forty-five seconds," Obito narrated, keeping his eyes on his watch as he walked backward down the trail, facing the three 'contestants.'
Rin and Kakashi and Katsumi walked forward slowly, faces gathered in intense concentration. The girls each held their arms out as if to assist with their balance; Kakashi had his crossed, emphasizing just how much he believed this exercise to be beneath him.
"Eight minutes now." Obito looked up with a grin. "I'm adding on another leaf!"
Chiyoko watched as the energetic boy added yet another leaf to the forehead of each child.
Rin and Kakashi maintained steady paces, but the four year old bobbled.
"Careful, Katsumi-chan," cheered Obito. "You've got this!" He resumed his timekeeper role with a bounce. "Eight minutes fifteen seconds—"
Rin looked unperturbed, but Katsumi's lips were beginning to curl down in her 'I'm about to lose' pout.
There was a certain smugness in the way the youngest boy's dark eyes narrowed, despite the fact that he had so vehemently protested participating in the game. Kakashi had dismissed the notion that Katsumi might beat him in a 'chakra control' activity as ridiculous (and it probably was), but Obito's taunts had roped him into participating.
Chiyoko slid her gaze to her adult companion. "Should they really be doing this?"
Minato acknowledged her with a slightly distracted smile—the one that didn't quite reach his eyes and left her uncertain as to whether he was actually entertained or just humoring her. He shrugged. "It's a basic exercise. There's certainly no danger in it for my students, but I'll stop them if it looks like Katsumi-chan is getting too tired." He turned his attention back to monitoring their surroundings, as if from studying the thick forest they were travelling through he could ascertain vital information.
Maybe he can.
Chiyoko sighed, not feeling reassured by the group leader's words. A bead of sweat, due more to the humidity than actual exertion, trickled down her face. She couldn't wait to get out of these stifling woods and feel a breeze. And it was far too silent, eerily so. It wasn't the first time she'd been in an area like this—Grass Country had woods too. Just…the trees weren't so tall, not dense enough to block out the sun or to keep the air from circulating.
Even the vegetation here was alien, so unlike anything in Izumi's herbal textbooks that she sometimes borrowed to show to her own students. The flowers were exotic and bright, the berries strange blues and purples. For an area teaming with plant life, it was odd there weren't more seeds on the ground. Maybe it just wasn't the right type of year for that sort of thing. It's not like she was a botanist. But—what she'd give to see a pinecone right now. Or, you know, an actual pine.
They weren't even on a path anymore. She didn't see any signs telling them where to go—the ninja were just walking as if their destination had been ingrained in their innermost beings. It was almost as if she was in a labyrinth. If her guides left, she'd have no idea what to do, where to go—
The sound of bodies hitting the dirt and Obito's cackle of laughter had her spinning about to face the children.
Kakashi and Katsumi were in a tangled heap on the ground, leaves scattered carelessly across their clothes.
"Nine minutes and fifteen seconds for Kakashi and Katusmi," Obito announced, voice upbeat.
Kakashi scowled and pushed the brunette off of him. "That doesn't count, she fell on me!"
"Not on purpose," countered Obito.
"Katsumi-chan," Chiyoko scolded as she picked up her toddler and brushed the dirt off her outfit. "Did you trip Kakashi-kun?"
"I dunno," Katsumi replied, looking entirely too innocent for her answer to be honest. "I wasn't watching where I was going. I slipped."
"See," Kakashi crossed his arms with a huff. "She even admits it!"
"Admit what?" Katsumi asked, blinking up in surprise at the six year old. "This means Rin-chan wins, right? So, you have to show us the puppy!"
"No!" The white-haired boy bristled. "That was only if you won—"
"Actually," Obito tapped his chin. "I do believe the agreement was 'as long as you lost,' Kakashi." He smiled far too widely at his teammate. "The winner wasn't specified. And since Rin's still going—"
The girl in question giggled, beginning to pick the leaves off her head. "I guess I do win, then! Where's Pakkun-chan, Kakashi-kun?"
"Sensei!" The youngest ninja bristled, turning to address the group leader. "This is sabotage! And conspiracy!"
"Nuh-uh," Katsumi sniffed dismissively as she pulled a leaf out of her hair. "Besides, you didn't say those were against the rules."
"Technically she's right, Kakashi." Minato rubbed the back of his head. "You didn't specify that cheating was against the rules."
Kakashi gave an aggravated huff and stomped to the front of the group, ignoring Katsumi's chants of "puppy, puppy, puppy" as she skipped at his heels.
"It doesn't need to be explicitly said," argued the boy. "It's just understood that it's not an acceptable tactic—"
"A shinobi should use any tactic to ensure the success of their mission," recited Katsumi.
Chiyoko blinked. She'd not heard that before—but from the set of Kakashi's shoulders this must be another one of those rules he'd taken to quoting to the girl outside of her hearing.
Kakashi clenched his fists in his hair and whirled on the small girl. "You're not a shinobi!"
"And I'm already better at the rules than you," she latched onto his arm and crooned up at him sweetly.
The youngest ninja's shoulders shook as he vibrated in silent anger.
Chiyoko wasn't sure if he wanted to scream or—well, she certainly recognized the signs of an eminent violent tantrum from a six year old. Perhaps it was best she intervened to ensure her own child's continued physical well-being.
She pulled Katsumi away from the boy, her arms aching as she picked the girl up and rested her on her hip. "Let's not antagonize the ninja anymore, ok sweetheart?"
"Ok," Katsumi agreed, suddenly and unexpectedly compliant. The energy dissipated from her daughter's limbs; she sagged forward in her mother's hold and wearily laid her head on Chiyoko's shoulder with a yawn. "I still wanna see the puppy," she grumbled, fist tightening in her mother's yukata.
Chiyoko darted a wide-eyed gaze of concern at Minato, but the man just laughed.
"Looks like she wore herself out," the blond crossed his arms behind his head. "Don't take a nap just yet Katsumi-chan. We'll be at the Village gate in just a minute."
"Here." Rin was at the school teacher's elbow, holding out some type of bar of food that Chiyoko had seen the shinobi munching on during their journey. "Have her take a few bites of this; it'll perk her up a little."
"Oh, thank you," Chiyoko murmured. She let the kunoichi unwrap it and offer it to Katsumi.
Katsumi took the bar and gave it a tentative bite. "Ick," she contorted her face in displeasure, sticking out her tongue.
"At least three bites Katsumi-chan," Rin insisted in her favored 'obey me I'm the medic' tone.
Katsumi whined weakly in protest, but ate as instructed when her mother echoed Rin's commands.
Chiyoko was attempting to stow the half-eaten bar in her pack (no easy feat while also juggling a small child) when Obito gave a loud 'whoop' of pleasure. She looked up-and up-and up even more at the huge wooden posts that were now before her. She craned her head back, feeling her hair slip further out of its messy bun, trying to make out how high the wall went.
"Wow," said Katsumi, voice small and eyes large.
"The gate's just down there," Rin helpfully pointed to the right. Chiyoko's eyes followed the girl's hand to what looked like it might be an opening in the massive wall—it was hard to tell from this distance.
"The Village is in there?" Chiyoko marveled at the massive feature. "How many trees make up this thing? How was this even created?" She walked up to one of the posts, each wider than her arm span and weighing more than what could be lifted by a dozen men. She tentatively reached out a hand to touch the wood. Katsumi mimicked her, petting the structure as timidly as she might the neighbor's grouchy cat.
"The wall's really old," observed Obito. "It's been there forever."
"It was created by the Shodai Hokage, when his clan founded Konoha," lectured Minato. He ruffled his oldest student's hair fondly. "It's been added to over the years, so some sections are newer and made out of more modern materials, but the wall itself now encircles the entirety of Konoha."
"Tall," observed Katsumi, looking up again at the height.
"It helps keep the Village safe," elaborated the jōnin. "And it forces everyone to enter and exit through one entry point, so we always know who comes and goes from the Village."
Chiyoko closed her mouth and smothered a grimace. She'd never lived somewhere she'd been forbidden from leaving. Even now, if war wasn't on the horizon, no one (aside from Hideki and a few close friends) would have thought it strange for her to pack up and leave. Nor would they have tried to keep track of her travels. She hoped there was still space inside the Village—that it wouldn't feel like she was living in a shoebox with thousands of people. What was it going to be like to walk through that gate and know she'd probably never come out of it again? Or at least, she wouldn't be coming out with Katsumi-chan. They might let her go without blinking. She wasn't exactly sure what Jiraiya's position was within the Konohagakure hierarchy, but her daughter's paternity probably got her put on a list or something.
She clutched Katsumi tightly as they approached the gate, refusing to put her down out of fear that Katsumi would run off after something new or sparkly or loud. She didn't want chasing after her willful toddler to be the first impression this Village had of her. Minato's team had seen far too much of that by now, even though they'd been more than good-natured in assisting her with entertaining and corralling the bored child.
The sounds of other humans began to trickle to her ears. A caravan of merchants, dressed in bright colors and riding wagons pulled by slow moving oxen, passed them as several paths converged into one wide road as they walked up to the great gate doors— made of the same strange, solid, heavy wood she'd noticed making up the wall a few minutes ago. Minato grinned at some of the shinobi accompanying the large party, giving a quick wave of recognition and jogging forward to briefly exchange greetings with the men.
Obito ran on ahead, past his teacher and through the gates, to what looked to be a gatehouse. He slapped his palms down on the counter and launched into chatter with some teenagers manning the station. Rin and Kakashi followed them at a more subdued pace. Chiyoko felt the gravel crunch under her feet as she paused beneath the gigantic archway, Katsumi unusually quiet in her arms.
The schoolteacher looked back at the forest, the darkness of the thick, oppressive trees not so frightening now that she'd emerged from their grasp alive and, seemingly, victorious. But was her choice one that would keep her family safe and alive, or would it be the one that ended it?
"Everything alright, Chiyoko-san?" Minato came to stand by her shoulder, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Chiyoko couldn't find the words to communicate her feelings. Her throat felt thick and there was an unbearable pressure in her head building up. She closed her eyes tightly. She refused to cry right now—over a decision that was already made, couldn't be changed, and had yet to bring about any negative consequences—except for that sense of grief and loss that she couldn't quite chase away.
The blond's eyes softened. "It will be alright, Chiyoko-san." His voice was low and buoying. "I know I'm slightly biased, but Konoha really is an amazing place. There are so many more opportunities for you and Katsumi-chan here than there were in your hometown." He put a gentle hand on her back, prompting her to step forward. "I know you're brave, and if you just keep drawing on that strength you've shown recently, I'm sure you'll soon have built a life here that's just as rewarding as the one you left."
Chiyoko forced herself to nod—and then soft, small fingers on her cheek drew her focus back to her daughter.
"Don't be sad, Mommy," murmured the little girl, green eyes round with worry.
Chiyoko took the child's hand and kissed it. "I can't really be sad, if you are here now, can I?" She asked, the words coming out thick and rough. Katsumi hummed in agreement and snuggled against her. Chiyoko let herself take comfort from cuddling her child as she followed Minato over to the gatehouse.
"This is my cousin, Masaru," introduced Obito, pointing to the man with dark hair. "He's a chūnin, and this is his, umm—" Obito broke off, scratching at the back of the head and looking at his cousin's sandy haired companion. "Who are you again?"
"I'm Mari, you moron," the girl snapped in irritation, rolling up the paper in her hand to swat the back of Obito's head. "I've told you a thousand times."
"Sorry, sorry," the boy protested fiercely, skipping out of her reach. "Anyway, she just passed the chūnin exams—"
"Kashi-kun's a chūnin," chirped Katsumi, with the joy of a child pleased to use a new vocabulary word.
An awkward silence settled over the group and Kakashi squared his shoulders, refusing to be embarrassed by the attention.
"Yeah, well," said the new female with a sniff. "Some of us actually have to work for our ranks."
Masaru grimaced at Obito and the younger boy shifted his weight uneasily.
Minato cleared his throat loudly. "It's nice meeting you Uchiha-san, Mari-san, but I need to escort my charges to Hokage-sama and my team is probably ready to go home after such a long trip. If I could just get back the immigration paperwork, Uchiha-san?"
"Oh, right," blinked Masaru, flipping through the papers in his hands before hastily handing them back to the older shinobi. "Looks good to me. Nice to meet you all."
"Yeah," agreed Mari, unwinding slowly as she examined the team's tired, civilian charges. "Welcome to Konoha and all that. Enjoy your stay."
As they walked away from the gate, Chiyoko took some time to observe her new home. It wasn't as packed as she feared, despite being almost ten times as large as her previous village. Minato said that almost 60,000 people lived here, and that around 16,000 of those were ninja. Which really, wouldn't that make it quite large for a Village? Just the shinobi population of her new home was more than double the population of the places she once lived. She could barely imagine that many people in one location-and all contained behind one giant wall, with no room to grow.
But, as she began to follow Minato and his students into the Village, she noticed that it didn't seem that crowded. In fact, it seemed light and open, almost as if she were strolling through a park. Trees, as expected, were everywhere. There weren't many buildings close to the wall, although now that she was behind it she could see that the wall itself was thick enough to probably have rooms inside of it, and there were various sets of stairs and platforms haphazardly winding up and across it from every angle. However, once inside the barrier the gravel path turned to stone and very quickly they begin to come upon other structures—multi-story buildings of wood and plaster and tile that did their very best to incorporate the tree-scape. It was hard to tell if trees were sprouting out of buildings or if the buildings were sprouting from the trees, but either way—the overall effect of the architecture made her feel as if she was walking through one of Katsumi's bedtime stories.
The innocence of that notion was quickly destroyed as she noticed people jumping over their heads, hopping rooftop to rooftop and scurrying this way and that. "Do—" she hesitated, and quickly resolved to ask her question because how was she ever going to learn the rules here if she didn't. "Do the ninja travel on the rooftops and the civilians on the roads?"
"Mmm?" Minato followed her gaze upward. "Oh no, ninja use the roads too. But when we're in a hurry we tend to take to the rooftops." He turned around to grin at her. "It's not that we prohibit civilians from using the roofs as a roadway; it's just really not a safe idea for them."
"Oh." Chiyoko watched as the crowds began to thicken, the buildings grew taller, and the trees more sparse as they headed toward the population center. Large crowds of men and women shopping for food or hawking household appliances mingled without hesitation or fear with just as many men and women in military uniform. At home, the groups tended to avoid each other, but here no one seemed to have a problem interacting with the other stratum. Civilians and soldiers engaged in conversation without overt signs of fear or disdain appearing on the features of either party.
"We're on the main road now," Minato elaborated with a wave of his hand. "It goes directly from the gate to the Hokage's Tower, which is where we're headed. Although," he mused, "someone once said all roads lead to the Hokage and that's mostly true for Konoha when you think about it. We wanted ninja to be able to get quickly to the Village Leader when they needed to do so—"
"Can we go home," Kakashi bit out the words impatiently, sulk hidden behind his mask but given away by the hands gripping the straps of his pack far too tightly. "Or do you need us to check in with you?" Clearly, he wasn't engaged by his teacher's tour.
Minato frowned apologetically at Chiyoko before turning to address his students. "Well, I'd like you to stay, but if you need to go you can—"
The blond blinked as the youngest vanished with a whoosh of white hair.
"As I was about to say," the jōnin slumped forward in irritated resignation. "I hope you'll stay and accompany Chiyoko-san and I to the tower, because I'd like for someone to wait with her while I report for us to Hokage-sama."
The team medic nin smothered her smile in her fists. "I'll stay, Sensei."
"Me too," agreed Obito, scratching at his nose. "Sorry about the twerp, he has an attitude problem."
"Obito—" Minato bit out with a sigh.
"What?" The boy adjusted his goggles defensively.
"You shouldn't talk about teammates that way," chided his female friend, nudging the boy's shoulder with her own companionably.
"Kashi-kun's a sore loser," piped up Katsumi, blinking herself awake as they continued to walk down the road.
"Katsumi—" began Chiyoko with her voice stretched thin in warning.
"Exactly," agreed Obito with a definitive nod.
Chiyoko shared a commiserating look with Minato.
Tsunade set down her 'blondes have more fun' coffee mug on the desk, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly and wake her up—her reading material certainly wasn't going to accomplish that task. She didn't feel guilty in the slightest that she'd commandeered the jōnin lounge's last case of coffee for the hospital staff break room. Anyone who was about to read what she was would understand. She picked up the notes Orichimaru had wanted her to review on cell grafting—he seemed to think he was on to something that would eventually let him regrow organs—when a tap on the window had her acknowledging the ANBU with a grimace.
She unlocked the window and thrust it up with a displeased grunt. "What the hell does he want now?" She wasn't feeling particularly charitable since Biwako-san had dumped two days of surgery on her so that the older woman could stay home and tend to her own kid's cold.
After the ANBU relayed his message, Tsunade pursed her lips and swept the necessary materials into a bag before heading over to the Tower. Minori, the Hokage's bafflingly patient secretary, led her to a small conference room.
She took a moment to stand in the doorway and observe the group inside. Two of Minato's three brats were present, backs to her. The older one was waving his hands animatedly; entertaining his companions with some loud story that sounded like it was at the expense of his clan head.
Her eyes were drawn to the woman though—the one who was the alleged mother of her teammate's child. She looked…awfully simple, actually. The slug sannin let her eyes wander over the other woman, taking the time to catalogue the mud on the hem of her yukata, the dark brown hair escaping a messy bun, tired lines in the corner of the woman's eyes even though she could only be in her mid-twenties.
How…disappointingly ordinary. The blonde grimaced. It's not that the other woman wasn't pretty—there was a delicacy in the angles of her face that she'd often heard men comment on as appealing—but, and maybe this was it, the other woman seemed delicate. The opposite of strong.
How had Jiraiya ever been attracted to her? Tsunade had to mentally hit herself. Of course the man had been attracted to her. Had Jiraiya ever met a woman he wasn't attracted to?
The young woman's eyes flicked upward briefly, and then her entire body jerked in surprise as she noted the stranger watching them from the doorway.
The genin spun around in response to the woman's body language. When they didn't relax, the woman drew back even more.
"Tsu-Tsunade-sama," the girl stammered, a blush spreading across her face. "I didn't see you there!"
That's right. Tsunade smothered her sigh and crossed her arms. The girl was a fan.
"Hi!"
Tsunade blinked at the chirp and then looked down when she realized the voice didn't match any of the people at which she was staring.
A toddler peered back at her with curious green eyes.
Tsunade studied the young face for a few seconds—searching the shape of the eyes and the line of her jaw for similarities to her teammate— until she realized it was probably strange to be engaging in a prolonged, silent staring contest with a—did Jiraiya say three or four?—a very small person.
"Hello." Tsunade drew the word out slowly, uncrossing her arms so she could rest her hands on her hips and lean down. She squinted at the small thing. "You don't look like your Daddy at all do you," she finally mused with a grunt.
"No." Green eyes blinked up at her. "I'm pretty."
Tsunade choked on her laugh and suppressed her amusement. She raised her gaze to meet the rather terrified one belonging to the girl's mother. "Are you sure this was sexual reproduction?" She drawled, "Because I know a man who'd love to have a chat with you if you've mastered cloning."
A bright red flush burst across the woman's face. Eventually, she gave a stilted reply. "While I'd actually prefer it to be the latter, I'm embarrassed to confess it was the former."
Tsunade didn't succeed in completely hiding her smile. Maybe the woman wasn't entirely spineless after all. "Come on kid." She picked up the girl and set her on the table. "I have to run a couple of tests."
Tsunade pulled out a specimen bag as Rin reassured Chiyoko that this was 'all perfectly normal procedure.' Tsunade had to give the girl points for her reassuring bullshit skills. The Uchiha scowled at her suspiciously from behind the increasingly anxious mother.
"Open up." She learned forward with a cotton swab.
"You're very pretty," commented the girl instead, pulling back, eyes wide in apprehension.
Tsunade huffed a laugh. "Unfortunately, I need something other than flattery. I do promise it's painless though. I just need a genetic sample for some autosomal testing."
The girl twisted to look at her mother.
"It's ok, Katsumi-chan." The younger woman walked up to put a comforting hand on her daughter's back.
"Ok," agreed Katsumi, voice not quite as confident. She obediently opened her mouth and Tsunade took a swipe of genetic material, wrapping it up to preserve it for her test.
The girl balked when she pulled out a needle.
"Uhm, Tsunade-sama?" The medic nin in training piped up. "How much blood were you going to draw?"
"Oh, about twelve vials," she said nonchalantly. Then rolled her eyes at the collective looks of horror thrown at her. "I'm taking two, mostly to determine whether she needs any vaccines for some diseases she might be exposed to in Konoha which aren't common in Grass." She watched the mother's posture relax with the explanation. It was mostly the truth, anyway.
"Well, umm," Rin stuttered again—
"Speak up," barked Tsunade, growing impatient with the younger girl's hesitance.
"It'sjustshe'salittlelowonchakrasoyoumightwantowait—" The girl's words came out in a jumbled squeak.
Tsunade frowned and immediately put a glowing green hand to the girl's head, causing the kid to flinch in surprise.
"Why is she so low on chakra?" she barked at the female genin once she'd confirmed the comment. The girl quailed at the force of the words and, frustrated, Tsunade turned to the Uchiha boy for a clear answer.
He blinked furiously at unexpectedly becoming the focus of the sannin's attention.
"We were playing a game earlier today," Obito managed to get out, inching to the left, toward the door. "To see who could hold leaves to their heads the longest."
Tsunade scowled. "Well who let that genius plan go considering this kid has no training?"
"Sensei?" Obito offered, voice high and tentative as he pressed his back up against the wall.
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me while I go punt your Sensei through the wall," she finally bit out, before stalking out of the room.
Chiyoko gaped after her.
"And get the kid a glass of water to rehydrate," yelled the Sannin, poking her head back into the room briefly. "We'll finish this up later."
"Is she serious?" Chiyoko finally managed to ask in the stunned silence following the woman's departure.
Obito twitched nervously. "Possibly." He sank into an empty chair with a relieved slump. "But, Sensei's with the Hokage and I think the old man kind-of frowns on Tsunade-sama putting holes in his walls, so…" he trailed off with a shrug.
Chiyoko slumped into the chair next to him, keeping her eyes trained on the door, bewildered.
"I can't believe you threw Sensei under the wagon like that," scolded Rin, without any heat in her voice. She stared at the empty door with a mix of fear and awe. "It was your idea not Sensei's—"
"Oh no," Scoffed the boy. "Sensei's totally the designated person on this team for dealing with angry Sannin." He played with the straps on his gloves. "Besides, it's not like any of us knew she was going to march in here and do a medical—"
"Wait," interrupted Chiyoko, leaning around the toddler sitting in her lap. "Was this not normal procedure?"
Obito and Rin exchanged panicked glances.
"Oh, no, Chiyoko-san this was absolutely routine—"
"Perfectly normal! It happens every time!"
"For every new person that comes to Konoha—"
"I had one just last week!"
"It's actually quite an honor for Tsunade-sama—"
Chiyoko rolled her eyes at the babbling children and glowered unhappily at the wall.
At first, Orochimaru was determined to ignore Tsunade when she marched into the room and began rummaging through his desk drawers, looking for some alcohol she'd hidden in case of emergencies (and where Dan wasn't likely to find it). Each of his teammates had their quirks, and hiding adult beverages for the woman was harmless in the grand scheme of things. It also ensured that he saw the blonde on a regular basis without having to leave his office.
Tsunade had a lot of emergencies.
It became harder to ignore her when she set down two saké cups on the desk with a grim expression, followed by a wrinkled stack of papers.
He lifted his head up from his microscope and peered at her curiously. "Did someone die?" He asked politely.
Tsunade frowned. "Not yet." She pushed the papers toward him. "I'm too scared to interpret it myself," she admitted. "I need you to take a look at it. Your expert opinion is going to determine how much of this bottle we finish off."
"Such pessimism," murmured Orochimaru chidingly, his hypothesis about the source of Tsunade's inner turmoil confirmed when the stack of papers turned out to be the results of genetic testing. He scanned the hastily drafted graph, noting the percentage of matching SNPs.
"My condolences," he drawled. "He has a daughter."
Tsunade sighed and filled Orochimaru's cup. She took the bottle for herself.
"Don't you need to turn these results into Sensei?" Orochimaru ignored the offering.
"Eventually," agreed Tsunade, not looking particularly interested in accomplishing that task.
Orochimaru set down the papers to return his attention to his analysis of the spores of the poisonous galerina marginata.
"You know," the slug sannin interrupted. "He's going to insist she calls you Uncle."
Orochimaru paused.
He pulled back from the microscope and grudgingly accepted his drink.
Minato stretched his arms out along the back of Hokage-sama's couch, slumping into the cushions in a manner reminiscent of his own Sensei's typical behavior. Normally he wouldn't allow himself to act so relaxed in the presence of the Village Leader, but he'd been waiting to report for forty-five minutes.
Sandaime-sama had asked him to hold his report until Jiraiya arrived and Tsunade had run some medical tests.
Minato was going to be here a while.
Until then, he was struggling to find something to occupy himself that didn't include picking up any of the very interesting looking scrolls that littered the room. It was a tendency leftover from his under-supervised childhood; if Minato saw a scroll or a book, he just had to pick it up and read it. The toad sannin didn't mind, although Minato learned quite early on while under the man's tutelage that picking up Jiraiya's reading material came with its own hazards. Sarutobi-sama on the other hand, despite leaning toward leniency for his own student's only remaining student, was not as indulgent of Minato's nosier habits.
"But Hokage-sama," insisted the brunette chūnin with an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. "That's the third time this month the jōnin lounge has run out of coffee early and I'm in charge of restocking it—"
The man's voice broke embarrassingly and he blushed and looked down at the floor, unwilling to continue to elaborate upon the threats he had no doubt received for his failure to anticipate the caffeine needs of the Village's more deadly and unpredictable demographic.
"Oh for heaven's sake," grumbled the leader of one of the strongest militaries in the world, taking the paper and signing his name with a flourish. "I've got more pressing things to do, if you think we need to be ordering ten more cases of coffee for the jōnin lounge, just do it, don't bother me with the matter."
The chūnin bowed hurriedly and scurried out, ignoring Minato and clutching his approved order form protectively against his chest.
The Hokage picked up his pipe and considered the rest of the paperwork scattered about his desk with an irritated huff.
Minato's fingers twitched toward a scroll dangling precariously on the arm rest. He stuffed them in his pocket and tried to focus on counting the scuff marks in the wooden floors.
"What did you do to that poor chūnin?" A deep voice bellowed in greeting.
Minato's lips twitched upward in a smile. "Sensei!"
"Minato-kun!" Jiraiya plopped down onto the couch next to the younger man and dropped a heavy hand on top of the blond's head, mussing his student's hair.
Minato pulled away with a put upon expression. "Stop that, I'm not ten!"
"You travel like you are," shot back the Sannin. "What took you so long?" The larger man fell back against the well-abused cushions with a frown. "I thought you'd be here days ago, I was starting to get worried."
"Umm…, weeeellll," Minato drew out the word and scratched at the side of his face, shrinking back sheepishly.
"Civilian women and small children aren't known for crossing great distances quickly," commented the Hokage, eyes crinkling in amusement. "And we did ask Minato-kun to take his time coming back, did we not? So that he might observe your progeny away from the Village before deeming it safe to bring her here?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jiraiya huffed, crossing his arms. "What did you learn then, brat?"
"That you're going to have to give me a new nickname," Minato teased, shoulders loosening up as he figuratively danced away from the subject of his possibly questionable mission strategy. "I think you'll find that moniker far more apt for Katsumi-chan."
Jiraiya rubbed his chin in faux contemplation. "She can be brat-chan."
"No," stressed the younger jōnin, leaning forward to plead his case with alarming sincerity. "She can be the brat, you can't have two—she's already going around calling me nii-san, don't I deserve to be called by my own name by now? You know that's stuck right—all the jōnin are still calling me that and it's been years since I was promoted—"
"Goodness, Minato-kun," interrupted the Hokage cheerfully as the blond's face reddened upon at the reminder of his audience. "As frustrating as dealing with your teacher is, and believe me, I'm intimately experienced with his reign of terror. I did read all your mission reports for the past decade, mind you. We do need you to report on—"
The door slammed open and in stormed Tsunade, sulkily tossing some papers at Jiraiya, which meant that it was Minato who darted off the couch and scrambled to catch them. Orochimaru followed smoothly in the tetchy sannin's wake, nodding calmly in recognition to the two men on the couch.
"I take it the tests verify that the child is Jiraiya's then?" the Sandaime mused, seemingly unperturbed by the abrupt intrusion.
"Yes," said Tsunade sourly as she refused to meet the eyes of her suddenly smug teammate.
Orochimaru tilted his head in agreement. "I confirmed the results myself, I'm afraid—"
"Afraid?" Jiraiya glared at his teammate. "What do you mean afraid—"
"That's settled then," said the Hokage with finality. "Now, before your grand entrance, Minato-kun was about to summarize his impressions of the girl and her mother—"
"About that," Tsunade's head snapped up and she glared accusingly at the younger blond. "The girl's near chakra exhaustion, what were you doing letting her use that much chakra and what was she doing with it?"
Minato blinked warily up at the older blonde, his eyes seeking out his own teacher for support. "They were just playing a variation of an exercise Sensei said he taught her." Minto held his palms up. "she wasn't in any danger."
"I couldn't run the blood tests—"
"Why would you need to run blood tests?" Jiraiya asked, perplexed.
"How in the world am I supposed to establish a medical history without a blood test?" Tsunade huffed indignantly, "and I—"
"Tsunade," soothed the Hokage. "You'll have plenty of time to do your blood tests later and there is nothing wrong with Jiraiya's child participating in chakra exercises."
Tsunade grit her teeth. "Yes there is, Dan and I've told you all several times now that chakra use in children, especially children under the age of 5, must be carefully monitored or the child risks burning their chakra coils irreparably. The only ninja we have capable of monitoring that type of use are medic nin and Hyuuga clan members and Minato's girl isn't trained in that—"
The Hokage sighed. "I understand Tsunade, and I have read those reports. But children have been using chakra that young for decades and most turn out just fine. Why, we even have the young Hatake boy as the latest example of self-monitoring-"
"It is literally a miracle that boy hasn't hurt himself—"
"Let's all take a deep breath and calm down and shelve that topic for another day," interrupted Jiraiya, putting out a hand as if he could physically push the tension in the room down to a more manageable level. "Tsunade, you and Dan have done really important studies and I should have paid more attention to them. I was just excited about teaching Katsumi something new," Jiraiya admitted. He was trying to head off another inevitable debate between the Hokage and his female teammate. For someone who didn't want to be Hokage, she sure does have a lot of ideas about how she wants to change things.
Jiraiya shook his head. "I was just trying to get her interested and excited about being a ninja, but I'll be more careful from now on. Besides, Minato-kun wouldn't let her hurt get hurt, right Minato?"
"Well about that," Minato scooted to the far end of the couch, outside of his teacher's immediate reach. "Remember how I had instructions to make sure Katsumi-chan and her mother weren't, umm, plants, from Grass?"
"Yes?" Jiraiya looked at his student in confusion.
"Well," Minato shrank back against the armrest. "ImayhaveletsomeGrassninwhofolloweduskidnapher-tofigureoutwhathteywereinterestedinandhowsheand her mother responded—" Minato was forced to pause for air.
"Wait, wait, wait," Jiraiya shifted on the couch, to fully face his student. "Did you just say you let her get kidnapped?"
"Only for a little while," Minato promised.
"A little while?" Jiraiya repeated, voice rising in exasperation.
"Eighteen hours." Minato nodded vigorously.
"What do you mean you let her get kidnapped for eighteen hours?" Jiraiya lurched forward but Minato bounced onto the balls of his feet and skittered away.
"She's four, you brat," growled the sannin, rising to his feet to follow his student. "She shouldn't have been out of sight for any hours."
"Well that's just unrealistic," Minato opined, flitting behind the Hokage's desk, navigating so that the Sandaime was a barrier between the toad sannin and the youngest jōnin.
"Oh yeah," agreed Tsunade, arms crossed. "Babysitter of the year, that one. Did you let your six year old chūnin lead the rescue mission?"
"Kakashi-kun had everything under control," defended Minato, bending backward to dodge his teacher as the man lunged across the desk.
The Sandaime grunted in mild displeasure. "Watch the ink, Jiraiya-kun."
"Besides," protested Minato. "She escaped herself before the boys caught up to her." He continued his retreat, but reassessed that plan when he realized his next steps would take him behind Tsunade. The woman was already cracking her knuckles, more to discourage any attempt to use her as a shield than out of any anger at hearing of Minato's alleged history of child endangerment.
"Aren't you supposed to take my side?" whined Jiraiya to the slug sannin. "You seemed ready to redesign some walls because he let her use chakra just a few minutes ago!"
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Short of medical negligence, I'm not intervening."
"Come now Tsunade," chided the Hokage. "Medical negligence is a bit far—"
"She escaped on her own?" pondered Orochimaru, loudly. It wasn't so much of a display of interest as it was an effort to refocus the topic of conversation to that which would get them dismissed quickest at the only volume that would be heard in the room.
"She waited until they'd stopped to eat and escaped through the bathroom." Minato shrugged, casually stepping around the room in a wide arch designed to reach his original perch without putting him in reach of the man who wanted to pin him to the floor. "She was just clever and had a good sense of timing, and she managed to stay hidden until the boys caught up to her. It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary."
Jiraiya continued to scowl at his student. "And where was her mom during all this?"
Minato scratched at the back of his head, embarrassed. "Apparently she didn't want to wait for us to come back so she and Rin ran after us. She really pushed herself— messed her feet up pretty badly, which is one of the reasons it took us so long to get back."
"Was she upset at being separated from the child?" Orochimaru's unusual eyes studied the blond intently.
"Very," admitted Minato, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back. "I realize now that there were less traumatizing ways to accomplish my goals. However, it was a good opportunity to confirm what the Kusa-nin were after, observe Chiyoko and Katsumi's responses, and allow my team a chance to react to foreign opposition in a controlled environment. I followed closely the entire time, I would have intervened if—"
"It was a fine choice, Minato-kun." The Hokage waved his hand dismissively.
"Fine!" Jiraiya blurted, gawking at the older man. "How is that fine—"
"Yes, fine," insisted the Sandaime. "The likelihood of harm was minimal and it did allow Minato-kun the chance to accomplish several goals at once. It was fine. You've all made similar decisions at various points in the past—"
"It wasn't my kid in the past," grumbled Jiraiya in discontent, but he returned to sitting next to his student all the same.
"Are we done?" Orochimaru's gaze wandered toward the door.
"Almost," assured the Sandaime. "Although I'm sure Jiraiya will actually want you to meet the child for who you've agreed to be godparents. What's your full assessment of the girl and her mother then, Minato-kun?"
"They're civilians, as expected." The blond twitched. "Chiyoko-san is very polite and organized. It was clear she was accustomed to taking charge of children and expected them to follow her orders. The reversal of the authority dynamic was hard for her at first. Despite making an effort to acknowledge my student's positions, she still found ways to express maternal concern such as critiquing their eating habits and mending their clothes. She has an amiable personality. Her manner of expression, the nature of her questions, and the depth of her knowledge of various subject matters all indicate above average intelligence and above expected levels of education for her position. However, she did not exhibit any behaviors out of line with what should be anticipated given her known history. She respects authority and is uncomfortable questioning the decisions of those she views as her superiors. The only time she dares to do so is when it concerns the wellbeing of her child."
The Hokage picked up his pipe and leaned back in his chair, absently considering the ceiling, "Attachments?"
"She cares deeply for family and grieves the loss of those she left behind, especially her older brother, but believes she has made the best choice for her daughter, which is her highest priority." Minato tapped his knee in thought. "I don't believe she plans on leaving the Village. I think she will settle in nicely as long as she is given tasks to complete which will allow her to support her child. She is accustomed to and will appreciate being financially self-sufficient. I would recommend either allowing her to continue teaching in civilian schools or as a private tutor. She has a solid work ethic and will be uncomfortable relying on anything she perceives to be charity, including financial support from Sensei."
"I don't mind," protested the Sannin. "I don't expect her to—"
Minato shook his head. "She doesn't know you very well and I don't think she trusts anyone too much right now. She probably trusts my students more than anyone else; you are just a man who was in her life one night and then vanished."
"Ouch," murmured Tsunade, inspecting a chip in the paint of her fingernails.
Jiraiya grimaced, but didn't object to the characterization.
"Her life experience has taught her that she needs to be able to care for and provide for her child on her own. That will be her most pressing short term goal," continued Minato. "In fact I anticipate she'll be out looking for jobs tomorrow, if allowed. No matter what arrangements Sensei has made for her."
"So, she'll need employment and possibly childcare," Sarutobi mused, leaning forward to make some notes to himself. "Katsumi-chan is four, correct?" He didn't wait for confirmation. "That's young, of course, but is she capable of starting the Academy curriculum? Does she show potential for graduating early?"
Minato hesitated. "It's not that she isn't intellectually capable of handling the work, but I think it would be best to wait on enrolling her until the new term begins. And she'll probably need the full period of schooling or something close to it."
"Oh?" the Sandaime paused his note taking. "Elaborate."
"She's very bright," the blond explained. "I'd say she's possibly on par with Kakashi intellectually, and is more advanced when it comes to social contexts and managing interpersonal relationships. She and Kakashi routinely engage in intelligent conversation, and that's the first person younger than him that I've seen do that. What I'm worried about is how she'll adjust to the physical demands and mental conditioning that is involved in the Academy."
The older man frowned, setting down his brush completely. "Has she no aptitude for being a kunoichi then?"
Minato grimaced. "I think she has an aptitude for being a politician," he muttered. "She has a way with words."
Jiraiya snorted mirthfully.
Minato cleared his throat. "She could make an excellent kunoichi with time and training. She's intelligent, learns quickly, and there are indicators that she is going to have large chakra stores for her age and gender. But, unlike Kakashi-kun, she's had absolutely no prior physical training and she doesn't come from a clan household—or even a household with a healthy appreciation of shinobi. She'll be starting from scratch when it comes to physical training. Not only that, but her mother has instilled the idea that physical conflict should be avoided and is, for lack of other words, 'bad.' She shies away from physical confrontation and it may be hard to break her of that habit."
"Shouldn't we be putting her through the curriculum as soon as possible?" Orochimaru drawled his words slowly, as if the answer to his query was evident.
"I've thought a lot about this," admitted Minato, shifting uncomfortably under the attention of the three Sannin and the Hokage. "I think it will be better to introduce both Chiyoko and Katsumi to the idea of becoming a ninja slowly, over time. Like most children, Katsumi values her mother's approval. She knows that her mother isn't excited about Katsumi attending the Academy. If we can take some time to build Chiyoko's trust in us and the Village, and to get Katsumi intrigued by the idea of being a ninja, and wanting to take the classes on her own—I think that will go much better in the long run than forcing Academy classes on the girl immediately."
Minato grew flustered in the silence. "I'm not saying wait forever, but it's mid-term now, right? I don't think it would hurt to wait the four to five months for the new term to start. She'll be five then, and most of her peers entering with her will be her the same age at that point. Even if she's bumped up a grade, the age difference won't be as noticeable. And it will give some time for Chiyoko and Katsumi to adjust to the Village and make new connections with the people here. To see for themselves that becoming a kunoichi is something desirable, not an unfortunate necessity of circumstance."
Orochimaru scoffed. "I told you the mother would be a problem—"
"The boy's idea has merit," said the Hokage with a sharp edge that had the snake sannin's mouth clicking shut.
"But if Chiyoko-san is going to be working all day, what are we going to do with Katsumi-chan?" Jiraiya scratched at the back of his head. "I can't have her with me all the time; I'm in the field too much."
"You're just afraid she'll limit your 'research,'" said Tsunade dryly, hands on her hips.
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes at the medic nin. "What about—"
"No," said Tsunade firmly, not even waiting for any solution involving her person to be put forward.
"But he likes—"
"NO." Apparently she had the same attitude regarding Dan.
Jiraiya's gaze slid toward his other teammate, speculative and assessing.
"I run a lab that focuses on toxins and dabble in genetics on the side," murmured Orochimaru, raising an eyebrow. "That's hardly the place to keep a bored infant."
"She's not an infant—" Jiraiya rolled his eyes, exasperated.
"There are options," was the Sandaime's vague contribution. "I do want to meet the girl fist though. Please go fetch her, and the mother too, Minato-kun."
"45 bottles of saké on the wall, 45 bottles of saké, take one down, pass it around—"
A polite wrap of knuckles against a wooden door frame interrupted Obito and Katsumi's cheerful singing. Well, Katsumi's singing and Obito's somewhat lyrical chanting. There were some notes. Arguably.
"Oh thank God." Rin slumped forward in relief at the appearance of Sensei and slid off her chair. She had not taken to learning Katsumi's strange songs as exuberantly as Obito, unfortunately.
Chiyoko looked up from her examination of a cooking magazine the secretary had given her.
"We got to forty-five bottles this time, nii-san!" Katsumi chirped excitedly to the jōnin.
"Kakashi-kun will be sad you didn't beat your record," nodded Sensei gravely.
Obito inwardly preened. Kakashi had held out a good long while, trying to emulate Chiyoko's 'ignore them and they'll cease' philosophy (however erroneous reality with Katsumi proved that to be). He'd made it all the way to 27 before snapping, forcing Sensei to swoop in and carry the kid tossed over his shoulder for a few miles before the chūnin attacked their four year old client with kunai.
"Hokage-sama would like to see you," explained the blond as he escorted the group down the hallway, genin straightening in response to his words.
Obito followed at the back of the group while Rin took the lead with Sensei and Katsumi trailed behind her mother, looking at the people they passed with wide eyes and surprising silence.
Obito's own eyes widened when he walked into the office and realized that not only was the Hokage awaiting their arrival, but all three of the Sannin as well. He swallowed, his throat was dry—even though he'd taken a drink not that long ago when he'd gotten some water for Katsumi per Tsunade's orders. Luckily, the Sannin seemed completely uninterested in his presence. And Rin's. Instead, all eyes zoomed in on Chiyoko and her daughter, who promptly hid behind her mother and pressed her face against her mother's legs as Minato announced them to the room.
"My apologies," said Chiyoko with pink cheeks, twisting and trying to pull Katsumi away from her. Katsumi whined and clutched at her more tightly. "She's just a little overwhelmed at the moment," said the brunette, smile strained.
Jiraiya cleared his throat and strode forward, kneeling down so he was eye level with the little girl. "Katsumi-chan, aren't you excited to see me? I have some people I want you to meet, come here for a second."
Obito exchanged a nervous look with Rin. It was really weird to see the toad sannin attempt to say something to a child that didn't have Sensei immediately clamping a hand over the man's mouth and dragging him out of the room.
Katsumi murmured something unintelligible, her words smothered in her mother's yukata.
"What was that?" Jiraiya lowered his head further, turning his ear to the girl. A funny expression crossed his face and he raised his head to look at his blonde teammate. "She says she doesn't want any shots," he drawled.
All eyes turned toward the slug sannin.
Tsunade frowned defensively. "I didn't give her any shots."
"She's not going to give you any shots, sweetheart," Jiraiya cajoled, gently tugging on Katsumi's hands.
Obito had a terrible feeling creeping up his spine, like the ice that swept over a person upon waking from a dream which was unmemorable apart from the knowledge that it was terrible beyond belief and must never be allowed to happen.
"No shots," repeated Katsumi, clearly this time. She was still clinging fiercely to her mother, but had lifted her face up in a sulky pout, directing her words to the female jōnin.
Orochimaru muttered something under his breath that Obito couldn't make out, but whatever it was prompted Tsunade to throw her hands in the air with an exasperated huff.
"Fine," bit out the woman. "No shots. At least," she amended sternly, "not today."
Katsumi finally let herself be pried from her mother and Jiraiya swept the girl up in his arms and carried her over to the Hokage.
Oh no. Obito could only register an alarmed ringing in his brain, as if the foundations of his universe were shaking and breaking and reassembling themselves with edges that no longer quite met and with too little time to properly align. Jiraiya. Katsumi's mysterious father. Sensei's interest. The Sannin. Jiraiya. Chiyoko's distaste/disinterest in Katsumi's other parent. Jiraiya. Child.
At least Rin seemed to be experiencing the same terrible epiphanies, judging from the intense look of horror spreading across her face.
Sensei was ignoring them. Bad Sensei. There had not been enough emotional preparation for this event. Not nearly enough. But could there have been? Given they were escorting a girl whose father's public ambition in life was to be known as a connoisseur of women? And also, he felt embarrassed on Chiyoko-san's behalf. Clearly that woman had better taste (and sense) than Jiraiya —
"This is my Sensei, Katsumi-chan. He's the Hokage of our Village."
Obito came back to himself in time to hear Jiraiya introducing what was, potentially, his child, to Sandaime-sama.
A heavy silence fell over the room as little girl and grizzled village leader studied each other intently.
"You have a silly hat," Katsumi informed the older man gravely. "It's not flattering for the shape of your face."
"Katsumi-chan," Chiyoko's faint, mortified scolding went ignored when Sandaime-sama threw back his head with a laugh.
"It is indeed a very silly hat," agreed the man, taking the offending garment off his head and setting it on the table. "I'm afraid it's a terribly symbolic silly hat though, people take me the most seriously when I look the most foolish. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, dear? Minato has waxed poetic about you and your mother for a good half hour now, but I'd like to hear your story in your own words."
Obito spared his Sensei a glance, but the man looked nonplussed, arms behind his back and standing at attention with a serene expression on his face.
For the first time in the few weeks he'd known the girl, Katsumi seemed uncomfortable and timid. She hesitated before answering and her words came slow and stilted. "My name is Katsumi and I'm four." She twisted in Jiraiya's arms, looking back at her mother for reassurance. "I like my Mom and reading and," her gaze brushed over the other sannin and her words faltered completely. Her face burned red and she turned to hug Jiraiya's neck, refusing to look back at the rest of her audience.
"Hey now," the toad sannin blinked in surprise and bounced the girl. "Why are you so scared? What happened to all those bold, brave statements you were making when I last saw you, huh?"
"My sense of self-preservation ate them!" Katsumi confessed with a wail into Jiraiya's hair.
Obito tried to muffle the slightly hysterical giggle that rose in his throat, but was caught out.
"What was that, Obito-kun?" asked the Hokage, eyes sharp but not unkind.
"Umm…" Obito scratched at the back of his neck. "I just said I didn't think she had one of those."
Rin's lips thinned.
"Oh?" The Sandaime leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "Why don't you introduce your friend then, Obito-kun?"
Obito swallowed. He wasn't entirely sure where the Hokage was going with this, but, well, orders were orders. "This is Katsumi-chan," he waved at the toddler. "She likes her mother and reading, true. But she also likes sweets, her rabbit—it's not a real rabbit, but well—and then, um, she likes naptimes, having her hair brushed and bedtime stories. She dislikes green food and vegetables, being sunburned and people pulling her hair when they brush it in a hurry. She likes dogs but not cats. And she hates being told she can't do things as well as other people or that she's not important."
Obito bit his tongue, not wanting to say that much more. Somehow it didn't feel quite right to keep sharing information, about how Katsumi-chan was funny and witty and liked playing word games and had a vocabulary that could put some of his older cousins to shame. He didn't like the way the snake sannin's eyes, instead of looking off into the distance were now focusing on the toddler with—not quite interest—but no longer complete apathy. He didn't like the way that Tsunade-sama didn't seem to care about any of this, and kept tapping her foot impatiently against the floorboards like she had somewhere better to be. They didn't deserve more information; they should have to learn it on their own.
"What about Katsumi's goals in life, Obito-kun?" The Hokage prompted him to continue and finish out the traditional introduction of a new team member.
"She's four," Obito said flatly. "I don't think she has a long term goal." The Hokage's silence implied he should elaborate. "She'd like more deserts," Obito offered generously. "And she probably wouldn't turn down a puppy."
"Surely there's something she wants," the Hokage mused. "Katsumi-chan," the older man picked up his pipe and gestured toward the toddler, who appeared to have calmed down from her mild panic attack. "Why don't you tell us about something you'd like to accomplish in life?"
Katsumi thought for three seconds, before nodding decisively. "I want Kashi-kun to admit I'm winning."
Obito stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Yeah, that'd be it."
"Is that so?" The Hokage lowered his pipe in genuine surprise. "And what have you won then my dear?"
Katsumi beamed back, her former confidence seeping back into her limbs. "Not telling. We have a game," she confided. "He's losing."
"Ah," the Hokage nodded deeply, as if conspiring with her. "And do you like playing with Kakashi-kun then? And Minato's other students?"
Katsumi smiled sweetly. "Kashi-kun is my favorite."
The Hokage nodded indulgently.
Obito gazed at the ceiling, knowing he was the only one who was hearing the word 'target' after Katsumi's statement.
"We don't tell Kakashi," Obito stated finally, when he and Rin were far, far away from the tower, walking dazedly toward the residential areas of town.
Rin made a soft 'umph' of protest.
"Please," Obito beseeched. "Give me this one joy in life, Rin. That's all I ask. He finds out on his own."
Rin bit her lip, brown eyes locked forward in thought. "Ok," she agreed at last with a sigh, patting at her apron nervously. "We're not supposed to talk about it anyway, right?"
Obito laughed. "That's the spirit!" He hooked his arm through hers and dragged her forward, chattering about where they might go for lunch.
Rev. 5/4/16