Kasumi's eyes slowly cracked open, not that it made a difference. She scowled though when she didn't hear her alarm blaring. Frowning slightly and figuring she needed to replace the batteries, she threw off her covers and sat up on the end of her bed. She stretched her arms up, shivering slightly in the cool air.
Cool air. Kasumi paused. The sun should be coming in through her window right now, blasting her back and warming her up. Instead her room almost felt chilly. That meant…
"I slept late," Kasumi whispered in horror, turning towards the window. She threw it open and thrust her head out, feeling where the sun was coming from. With a yelp, she realized that it was almost noon, the time she was supposed to be at the Hokage's office to get the day's scrolls.
Kasumi could not recall sleeping past nine o'clock in the morning in her life. She knew why it was happening though. The past few weeks she'd been training ten hour days with Asuka and the others and then running errands for the Hokage. The result was that she came home exhausted but keyed up from running around. She usually couldn't get to sleep until sometime around midnight, and then she had to wake up at five thirty to be at the training ground at six.
Kasumi groaned and buried her face in her hand. She could panic about her lack of sleep later, for now she had to make sure she still had a job. Kasumi lunged out of the bed and staggered into the bathroom, ignoring the deep, burning pain in her legs from all the abuse she'd been putting them through lately.
She struggled into her bodysuit and shirt, ignoring her ribbons and simply pulled her hair into a high ponytail like Toshiro wore his. Kasumi ignored her shoes as usual and started running, tying on her hitai-ate as she went. Every step made her sore muscles throb in agony but she pushed it aside. She had a job to do.
It was five after noon when Kasumi slammed open the Hokage's door and burst into the office, tripping slightly over the edge of the rug and staggering to a stop in front of the Hokage's desk. Kasumi doubled over, panting, and braced her hands on her knees. Her legs trembled.
"Sorry… I'm… late…" she wheezed. "Over… slept…"
The Hokage looked up at Kasumi in shock. She normally looked messy, but this was new. Her hair was a tangled mess and her shirt was on crooked. Dark bags hung under half-lidded eyes. She'd tripped over the rug, which had not happened since Kasumi first started working for him – once she knew an area, she could navigate it no problem, and she should have felt that the rug was there. If she hadn't, that meant she wasn't processing as quickly as usual.
All of these made him certain of one thing. Kasumi was sleep-deprived in the extreme.
"Kasumi, you never oversleep," he said slowly. "Why do you think you did today?"
Kasumi straightened herself up and plastered on a grin. "Ah, you know me. I just overdid it last night training, probably. Wore myself out."
"I see." The Hokage laced his fingers together, resting them on his stomach. "You remember what I said would happen if you started burning yourself out like this?"
Kasumi shook her head frantically. "No, no, it's not like that!" she protested. "It's just I'm a little tired, Asuka's working us harder than they did at the Academy. I'm just still adjusting, that's all, really!"
He knew she was lying through her teeth, but he also knew that she was trying hard, harder than any of his other employees. And he knew that firing her was tantamount to evicting her. He couldn't in good conscience keep her running all over Konoha delivering messages if it was impacting her health, and it was clearly starting too.
"Alright," Hokage allowed. "I'll let it slide this time, because I know how hard Asuka is on her students. But, Kasumi," He leaned forwards, looking at her seriously. "If this continues, if I keep seeing signs that you've taken on too much, I will fire you."
"I-" Kasumi would have dearly loved to protest, but she knew that it would get her nowhere. The Hokage had made up his mind and was at peace with his decision. If she showed up like this again, he would fire her, and she couldn't afford to lose this job. The D-rank missions she was going on with her team helped her finances, but only a little.
Kasumi hung her head. "Yes, sir," she mumbled. "I understand."
The Hokage sighed. That was what was concerning him even more than her tripping or the bags under her eyes. She was being respectful, was calling him sir. Kasumi never called him sir unless there were other people around who would yell at her for not. It was always 'old man.' That was part of her energetic personality, but now she looked worn and tired.
"Good," the Hokage said. He produced a bundle of scrolls and passed them over the desk to Kasumi, who clutched them to her chest. "Now, I need these delivered. Can you handle it?"
Kasumi looked up and smirked, but it was far weaker and less confident than she normally would have, and she knew it. "You got it, old man," she said tiredly, and trudged out of the room.
"Hotaru? Hotaru! Hotaru, where are you?"
Harumi wandered into her mother's office, and her eyes blew wide.
Hotaru had, by necessity, taken over their mother Hitomi's office after she died. But there had been an unspoken understanding that it was still their mother's office and that they weren't going to change anything, not the spindly desk or the bookshelves filled with a mess of books and scrolls and the statues of bears that her mother had collected over her years travelling with teams as a med-nin.
Hotaru was up on a step-ladder, pulling down the bear statues and placing them into boxes. She turned around to look as Harumi entered the room, smiling at her happily.
"Hey, Haru! Wanna help?"
Harumi stared around the room in horror. "Wh-What are you-?"
"It's time for a change," Hotaru said with a shrug, turning back to the shelf and pulling down another small statue, this one of a mother bear standing up over her cub. "These knick knacks are just gathering dust, and some of these books and things aren't even medical, they're about ninjutsu. I figured I'd box them up and let you go through them. Maybe you can learn some new medical ninjutsu."
"But-" Harumi said faintly. "I thought… we weren't going to…"
Hotaru rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Haru-chan, it's time to move on. It's not like mom would have expected us to turn the whole house into a shrine for her. Hey, do you have any idea what to do with these statues? We're already trying to empty out the storage room, I don't want to toss more stuff in there."
Harumi felt physically ill at the sight of her mother's statues jumbled in a box. She remembered clinging to Hitomi, nestled on her hip, as they drifted together around the room, talking about how she got each statue. It was how Hitomi explained her life to Harumi, told her all about being a med-nin and how it wasn't an easy life, and sometimes you lost people, but sometimes you saved people.
"I like to think of myself as a protector," Hitomi mused, tapping the base of one heavy bronze statue. "I take care of people when they're broken and make sure they can get back up again."
"So, you're kind of like a mother bear?" Harumi asked in her tiny little girl voice. Hitomi laughed.
"That's right, dear. And that makes you my cub!" she grinned, jostling her daughter on her hip slightly. Harumi grinned and hugged her mother tightly.
"I'll find something to do with them," Harumi said quickly, grabbing the nearest box of statues and picking it up, holding it close.
"Thank, Harumi, that's a big help. One less thing I have to do," Hotaru laughed.
"So… what brought this on?" Harumi asked slowly, not quite sure if she wanted to know the answer. Hotaru shrugged, eyes fixed on the shelves in front of her and she continued to pull down books and scrolls. She examined the name on a scroll cover and tossed it carelessly into a box below her. Harumi was certain that was a ninja text.
"I was just looking around the other day and realized I didn't like the office," Hotaru explained. "I mean, bears were mom's thing, not mine, and it's not like I can use half of these books anyway."
Another statue went into the box. Harumi nodded vaguely.
"I see. So… I was wondering if you'd mind having my tea for dinner sometime next week?"
Hotaru sighed, turning away from the shelves and leaning against them. She wiped a hand across her forehead.
"I'd love to meet your team, really I would," Hotaru assured her. "But not right now. I'm just so busy, trying to get the storage room cleared out, looking for people to work, and now trying to get this office the way I like it." Hotaru chuckled. "It's too much! Maybe once things have calmed down, okay?" she suggested.
"Okay," Harumi said, lowering her eyes. Nestled at the bottom of the box was the bronze bear statue. I miss you, mom. "That's fine. I'm gonna go find something to do with these. I'll be back for the rest of them later."
"Great!" Hotaru said in relief. "I was thinking I'd take them to one of the antique shops downtown, but if you're willing to handle them, that's one less trip I have to make."
Harumi looked at her older sister, an expression of disbelief on her face. If she wanted to take the statues down, then fine, Harumi could accept that. But this was their mother's collection, something she'd spent years accumulating and had loved. To sell them?
Harumi shook her head and darted from the room, heading to the apothecary. They took shipments of herbs and medicine there and sent out some of the same to shut-ins who preferred their herbal treatments to the pills from the hospital. There was an entire cabinet full of packing materials and lengths of fabric to protect whatever needed to be shipped.
Harumi set the box on the counter and fetched and arm load of old newspaper and cloth strips from the cabinet, dumping it next to the box. Slowly, tenderly, Harumi lifted the statues out and lined them up. She picked up the bronze statue first, staring at the soft lines making the bear's face. She'd always thought this one looked the kindest of any in her mother's collection.
Closing her eyes for a moment to fight down tears, Harumi began slowly wrapping the statue in cloth. She set it in the box gently, packed some newspaper around it, and reached for the next statue.
It had been many years since Hitomi died. Harumi understood moving on. But this didn't seem like moving on to her, this was almost like forcing mom out. Getting rid of her shinobi books, selling her collection. Even the project in the storage room. She couldn't understand where all of this was coming from. It was like Hotaru had suddenly decided grieving was over and it was time to purge their mother from the clinic.
Harumi tucked the last bear into the box and picked it up again, carrying it down the hall to her bedroom. Harumi opened up her closet and shoved her clothes to the side. She set the box down and pushed it into the corner, pulling her clothes over again to conceal it.
Hotaru could redecorate the office all she wanted, but she could not sell Hitomi's collection.
Harumi shut the door to her closet and headed back down the hall to retrieve the next box.
Toshiro knelt on the wooden floor, a bucket of soapy water next to him and a sponge in his hands. He scrubbed at the floor harshly, trying to obliterate every last speck of dirt.
Akio insisted that the house be kept as spotless as it had been when the Fukui household had been filled to the brim. Unfortunately, when it was filled with people, it also had income from a dozen different shinobi and kunoichi going on missions to fund it, and that meant that servants could be hired to clean and cook. Now there was only Akio's pension and Toshiro's income as a genin coming in, and while they had quite a bit set aside, Akio still refused to hire anyone to clean.
That was less due to finances than Akio's own pride. His father never left the house. He refused to be seen in public ever since he had lost his arm. That included being seen by any strangers who came into his home. He seemed to believe that inviting civilians into the house to take care of it for him was tantamount to breaking down and accepting charity.
That left Toshiro to cook and clean. His weekdays were filled with training, so he only managed a few chores on those days. It was on the weekends when he could devote hours to cleaning and cooking.
Toshiro gave a grunt of annoyance as the long silver strands of his hair slipped off of his shoulder and dragged along the wet floor. He swept his hair up in a fist and tucked it down the back of his shirt. Long hair really was inconvenient, but he kept his long for a reason. His father's hair was buzzed short, a gray stubble that barely covered his scalp. Toshiro looked entirely too much like his father for hi taste, so he kept his hair long as a sign that he was different.
"You missed a spot. "
Toshiro's head snapped up. He saw his father leaning in the doorway, eyes closed and swaying slightly. For a moment Toshiro couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Then the smell of alcohol hit him. He was reminded forcibly of the date and Toshiro mentally punched himself.
Idiot! I should have kept track! I've been so busy with training… I deserve whatever's about to happen for not paying attention.
"I'm sorry, father," Toshiro said, crawling over to the spot his father had gestured at vaguely and starting to scrub. "I'll fix it immediately."
"Right. You will." Akio staggered forwards, staring at a scroll hanging on the wall. It held a painting of a mountain scene done in gorgeous, thick ink strokes. "Because you're not good for much else. Barely capable with a senbon," Akio muttered.
Toshiro flinched, trying not to let on how much that hurt. "I will improve father," he promised, trying to appease the drunk man.
"Do you know what this week is?" Akio asked loudly. Toshiro nodded, knowing better than to try and stay quiet when his father was like this.
"This is the week Midori died," Toshiro replied.
"Ah, it is," Akio said, eyes roving wildly over the scroll. He jabbed a finger at it. "Did you know she painted this?"
Toshiro nodded. He heard it about once a month. "I did."
"Wonderful painter," Akio muttered absently. "Beautiful work, my sister did. And she had such talent at the qin too. She used to sit on the porch and play for hours. The rest of us would come out and listen. It was beautiful. And now…"
"Now she's gone," Akio said hoarsely. His fist flew forwards and slammed against the wall next to the scroll. "Now she's gone and you're here," he snarled at Toshiro. "And what do you do? You can't play the qin, you can't pain, you can't throw a senbon for shit, you can't cook, and you can't… can't clean the floor... without leaving spots!" Akio roared.
Toshiro flinched away from his father, shifting so that he was in a crouch instead of a kneel. He knew better than to stay around when his father was like this. When he was young he'd tried to be kind to his father when he was like this. He'd held up his own accomplishments, trying to prove he could be as good as Midori one day. Then he'd tried to comfort Akio, asking if he wanted anything special for dinner. He'd tried everything he could think of, and it all ended in slaps and kicks.
"It's not fair!"Akio howled, whirling to face Toshiro and swinging his remaining fist around to slam into the wall again. "Why? Why did she have to leave? Why did you get to stay? It's your fault!" he raged at Toshiro. "It's your fault she'd dead. If you hadn't- If she hadn't- You're to blame!"
Akio threw himself drunkenly at Toshiro, fist drawn back to hit him. Toshiro lunged to the side and his father staggered into the wall with a thud, leaning there and panting for a moment.
"You're the reason she's gone," Akio whispered into the wall.
Toshiro didn't stay to hear what else his father had left to say. He turned and raced down the hall to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. he leaned abck against the door and let out a sigh, sliding down it to rest against the floor. With a grimace, he stretched out his right leg. His knees were throbbing from kneeling all day and his right one had taken a nasty kick from Harumi in training the day before. That girl was getting better…
What he couldn't understand was the end of his father's rant. The first bit was standard fair – how pathetic he was compared to his aunt was dinnertime conversation in their house. But Akio had always seemed hung on the point that Toshiro was alive and Midori wasn't, that it wasn't fair.
But never before had he actually blamed Toshiro for Midori's death. He had never said that Toshiro was the reason Midori was dead before. Midori had died on a mission to rescue a kidnapped child, what could he possibly have had to do with that? He was only a baby at the time. Midori had taken a mission and hadn't come back, just like hundreds of thousands of shinobi before her. It was accepted among them that one day they wouldn't come back from a mission.
Toshiro leaned his arms on his knee and buried his face in them, taking deep breaths. This drunken rage and ranting on Akio's part would continue for the entirety of the week leading up to the anniversary of Midori's death. He was an idiot not to have kept track of the date.
He'd need to be more careful.
Asuka stood in front of the KIA monument, staring at the names blankly as they ran through her head. She knew entirely too many of the names on that monument. It seemed like half of her life was displayed on that monument in names, reminders of the periods of her life when everything was darkness and death.
Family, friends, former classmates. People she'd been on one mission with or a hundred. People she'd known for a week or for most of her life. Names jumped out at her, names of people who didn't deserve the way they'd gone. If only something had been different, things might have been better. If they'd had the right information, if they'd left a little sooner, they might still be alive instead of nothing more than a carving on a rock.
"Yo."
Asuka didn't even need to turn around. She could already imagine Kakashi standing behind her, hands shoved in his pockets, one visible eye closed, his hair as gravity-defying as ever.
"Hatake," Asuka greeted, pulled out of her musings. She moved for the first time in nearly an hour. She pulled her pipe from inside her shirt and placed it between her lips. Mechanically she filled it with tobacco, not looking up as Kakashi came to stand beside her. She lit the pipe with a quick burst of sparks from the jutsu she'd developed just for this purpose. Asuka took a few puffs, letting the nut-scented smoke drift around her.
"You don't usually come here," Kakashi said, eye fixed on the stone. Asuka pulled her pipe from her mouth and blew smoke from her nose.
"You're not the only one allowed to come out and brood," she muttered in reply, hooking the thumb of her free hand into her belt of poisons. She brought the pipe back to her lips and puffed thoughtfully.
"I don't brood," Kakashi protested, but it was half-hearted at best. He nodded to the bouquet of wildflowers on the monument. "Did you leave that?"
Asuka gave a noncommittal hm in reply. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, blowing smoke up into the sky. "How's your team doing?" she asked in response. "Managed to get Sakura to stop drooling, yet?"
Kakashi snorted. "No."
"Didn't think so. I never got the appeal of Uchihas. Sticks in the mud, the lot of them."
"That's right, you prefer green spandex-wearing-"
Kakashi caught Asuka's ankle easily before her foot could make contact with his face. She hadn't really been trying to hit him, he knew, or his palm would be throbbing from the hit. Asuka kicked hard, he knew from very painful past experience.
He tossed her foot away and Asuka righted herself, puffing on her pipe irritably. She scowled thunderously.
"Want to get drunk?" she asked. Kakashi looked sideways at her, surprised. Asuka had never been one for drinking.
Asuka shrugged defensively. "I'm depressed, you're depressed, I figure maybe if I get you drunk enough I might be able to sneak that mask off of you… that'd cheer me up."
Kakashi shook his head. "You've been trying since we were kids, Asuka, it's not happening."
"Agree to disagree," Asuka retorted, turning back to the stone. She heaved a sighed. "Damn this place is depressing. I can't take anymore of this." She brought her fingers to her lips and kissed them before pressing them to the stone over her sister's name. "Love you Aya-chan," she murmured.
Asuka started to walk away from the stone, but she paused at the edge of the trees, turning back to Kakashi, who hadn't moved.
"You coming, or have you not reached your brooding quota for the day?" she asked.
Kakashi didn't respond, eye fixed on a specific spot on the KIA monument. Asuka didn't even have to think to guess what name had grabbed his attention. She shook her head and vanished into the trees.