Sorry I haven't updated this for over a month. A lot of shit has happened recently and the story was, naturally, not my priority. But now that things are getting back to normal, I'm getting back to it, and I'm enjoying it.

Very short chapter for now, I'm leaving for the airport soon. Hope everyone are enjoying the summer/winter vacations!

61. Weakness

Silence.

The only sounds they could hear, were the waves slowly sneaking up the beach and falling back, and a few brave seagulls returning to see if the chaos had settled down. It was a cloudy morning, but it was still bright. The tidying was done, dead bodies had been removed and the remaining soldiers were regaining their strength. In silence.

Minato barely registered the medic-nin next to him, patting painfully at his shoulder with some leftover disinfectant. Everyone had spent so much chakra that he had to be healed in the traditional way, also with the risk of his shoulder becoming infected, but he couldn't get himself to worry about it. He was watching the distant waves, a small breeze chasing through his hair, his eyes sometimes catching the small boy who was wandering aimlessly among the rocks on the beach.

Rin had been left behind. They couldn't afford to search for her body, not yet. In a way, Minato had been prepared when he returned to the beach and the general came up to him. He had prepared for the worst, but it still didn't change the fact that for the second time, he had sent child soldiers out on their own, and it had once more resulted in death. He had realised as soon as he saw Kakashi sitting alone with unopened rations in front him, and spent every hour until the sun rose talking to Kakashi so he wouldn't get any ideas that it was somehow his fault. Because if anyone was to blame for this, it was Minato.

Kushina appeared with a large bag of rations.

"Eat," she ordered, but her voice was mild. However, it was still unwise to disobey, so he took the bag from her. He hadn't eaten for about twenty-four hours, and even though his body was working on empty energy, he still didn't feel particularly hungry. The nausea had been caught in his throat, and he could barely get the spoonfuls down.

He took a sip of water to wash the food down.

"Where're you going next?" Kushina asked.

Minato stirred in his meal. "General Morikawa needed us, but it's been delayed," he replied. He was silent for a moment. Then -

"I want to find her."

Kushina glanced up at him. "I know you want to," she began. "But what good is that? We need you here."

Minato shook his head. "It's not just that," he said. "I've been thinking about it. Remember the time when those children went missing?"

Kushina nodded. "What, you think Kiri might be responsible?"

"It could be connected," he shrugged. "What they did must have taken a lot of preparation and research, and I don't think they prepared by reading the manual."

Kushina looked down at her own rations. Slowly, she nodded. "It makes sense. And you think that Rin could be where the other children are?"

"Yes."

"I'll go with you."

Minato looked at her for the first time in a while. He had been very occupied with his own thoughts for hours, and had barely stared at anything but sand and waves, avoiding everyone's glares.

Kushina put the rations down, and looked back at him. She was tired. Her hair was a messy bun, and she looked as though she hadn't slept for days. Still, she stared persistently at him.

"I know how Kiri works," she said. "Standing between the Fire and the Mist, we were taught a lot about how they do things, and I know how they fight. Take me with you."

Minato observed her for a moment. Her eyes lingered at him.

"All right," he said. "I'll gather up a squad, and you'll come with me."

It was only natural. What she said was true, after all, and Minato knew he would feel a lot safer if she was there. It was strange. He was rarely scared – the only times being when Kushina was kidnapped – but it was no doubt that he felt weaker without her. Maybe it was because they had sparred and fought side by side so many times and they matched well because of it. Or maybe it was because she kept away a side of him he didn't like. It was a part of him that had grown stronger over the years of war, and that was particularly visible when he was away from her. She had talked about it when he wasn't even aware that it was there, but it had slowly tried to take him over from the time the war started. He grew cold, passive and more careless about his enemies than before; some of his hunts had resulted in blood baths, even though he could have performed the killings much cleaner. He had thoughts he never thought were there, but that had somehow lied in the underneath for years and crept up when he couldn't stop it. Because that was what he became. Weak.

As long as Kushina was with him, he would be safe.