A figure behind the veil

The lack of sound rumbled in between stone walls, heavy, opaque shadows painted the room. He used it often. He never called it his. In the hearth, a faint fire succumbed to its death, it had stopped popping a while ago. Itachi will not feed it, not tonight. Gloom slowly made its way towards him, he will gladly immerse into it. Wind whistled through the flue, Itachi glanced and the fire died finally.

Coals shone with orange sparkles in the agony of demise, it would take wind to bring them back to life but Itachi remained seated. The mattress lacked its usual comfort. He watched the embers glow. Unbeknownst to him, light still clung to his face, dark lines cut through his skin and made him look feral, the monster he had become was on display.

The Sandaime perished under Orochimaru's hand. Pein had summoned him to tell him as he regarded it as an unprecedented opportunity to approach the Kyuubi's Jinchüriki. Itachi had stopped breathing but he had not cracked. The skin under his lips itched.

Had he killed him when he had the chance, had he killed him when he tried to take over his body… but Itachi had pardoned him, he pardoned a rogue ninja of his beloved Leaf because Danzo had told him he wanted to capture him alive. His research was important and would be wasted if the man ceased to exist, he had said, and Itachi had believed him.

He trusted Danzo to protect Konoha but he didn't trust him to protect Sasuke. Now, the only person that promised to do both was gone.

The old man succumbed by the same heart he forced Itachi to toughen, the old fool! The mighty old fool! Itachi was asked to set on fire threads of relationships he carefully nourished over the span of thirteen years by the same man who hadn't been able. Who will protect Sasuke now?! Who will seek for his brother's safety?! Orochimaru had gone for him, Itachi was sure! He desired the Sharingan they possessed.

His arms tensed, the room was deep into coldness and his breath came out in faint white strings. His heart raced and pumped thick hatred through his veins, he felt it travel to his deepest parts, his fingers itched for release. A hand went to his face and he plastered his nose into the palm, it smelled of smoke, he shook with the need for vengeance.

Nails dig on his pale skin, eyes opened widely, Itachi gritted his teeth. So much hatred, so much distaste. Part of him grieved. Sasuke was all alone now.

The embers died finally and red coal turned gray with decay, there was light no more, Itachi sat in the gloom breathing revulsion and sadness. His young, poor little brother. His beloved, innocent baby boy. Itachi could not stay in wait, he will be on the move by morning.

In the room, in between layers of darkness, they lie in wait, bright and alive, pulsating with the expectancy of hunters, bright crimson, bloodthirsty, two Sharingans awake.

Ino did not move, Shikamaru was able to see her through a veil of white color but he could not make out her details. Her figure was barely concealed, she was a shadow behind the curtain. She did not move and neither did Inoichi who seated next to her with his head in between sweaty palms, they both missed the funeral but no one could blame him. She had bandages all over and survived by faith only, blood loss and chakra depletion knocked at her door that was left slightly ajar. Inoichi hadn't slept since the invasion, Shikamaru understood him.

Next to Shikamaru, Shikaku stood watching both Yamanaka with a scowl on his face and his mouth downwards –it was everything that gave away his worry-, Chöji and Chöza were in the corner of the room. No one spoke, four people waited for Inoichi to acknowledge their presence, but he did not, the man was in his mind, elsewhere.

Shikamaru glanced at his best friend and saw his eyes bright with fresh tears, he had cried all the way to the hospital until Chöza grabbed forcefully his shoulder to make him stop. This was not about his sorrow, he had said, and Chöji had nodded and hiccupped, but his crying halted just before entering.

They were not to blame, Shikamaru had done what had been asked of him, guiding Naruto through the forest to reach the red-haired daemon, Chöji had been occupied with his own survival. None of them were responsible for what Ino had become –a mere figure behind a veil- but still, weight hung on Shikamaru's chest and Chöji's tear ducts and he knew, as well as he knew that there was nothing for him to do, that it will not be lifted until her eyes opened.

Suddenly, the doorknob hit the wall, he jumped –startled, but none of the adults moved, Inoichi barely acknowledged the noise with a harsh look at the intruder. Dark yellow silk moved around the room, the cloth hung on her hips in a way that made Shikamaru's heart skip a beat in the same manner that the woman with the purple hair had. She enticed him. He knew it was an awful body reaction to be having when his teammate was in a coma, but he couldn't stop the sudden urge to look openly. He was… curious, to say the least. The woman had her orange hair low, it touched her waist and it contrasted roughly with the color of her Kimono. Ino would have thought that combination to be preposterous, Shikamaru just knew she would, the colors clashed harshly against the sadness of the room.

Shikaku stiffened and made him take a step back with his forearm, Shikamaru blinked at his father and saw repulsion on the man's face, Chöza didn't seem to contemplate her in such a manner. "Inoichi-sama," the woman bowed, her voice was too rough for her face, she was delicate, pretty, something about her seemed familiar.

Inoichi glanced up at her face then, his jaw settled, yet, his hands relaxed and fell on the sides of his hip, he stood as if the chair burned, it was the first movement Shikamaru had seen him do. "Where-" Inoichi started, but the woman halted him with a motion of her hand. It was an odd thing to do at one's superior, but Inoichi complied. Shikaku's jaw tightened.

"My boys are being drawn of some of their blood as we speak," she smiled faintly, "if I'm unable to give her everything she needs, then their help will be of use." She bowed, it seemed calculated.

"I wouldn't have asked you if-"

"I know," the woman interrupted again, "I've heard about the low blood supply, so many casualties… and many more injured." She smiled, her tone almost mocking, "I'm compatible and I'm glad to be of service to our beloved clan head once more." She finished and licked her lips, there was something weird about the exchange. "Oh, it's so good to see you, Shikaku-sama, Chöza-sama. Are these Ino-chan's teammates?" She acknowledged them without looking at them, dusting the sleeves of her impeccable kimono.

There was a pregnant pause and Shikamaru glanced at his father, Shikaku was not staring at her, his eyes were intently focused on Inoichi, but the Yamanaka clan head did not acknowledge his stare. "Yes," it was Chöza who spoke, Shikaku looked deflated to the floor.

"Oh, it's so marvelous to see two generations of-"

"The blood." Inoichi deadpanned, and for the first time since entering the woman's smile shrank suddenly, whatever power she seemed to have faded away in the moment Inoichi Yamanaka interrupted her charade. "Shikaku, Chöza, let us have some privacy." Both clan heads quickly moved outside the room, dragging both their heirs with them, Shikamaru glanced once more inside the room before leaving and saw Inoichi dragging a chair for the woman to sit on. The door closed and he could see them no more, shortly after, a nurse entered with a trail of medical equipment, she smiled faintly at them before disappearing to attend the Yamanaka. Ino's veiled image had burned itself on Shikamaru's retinas.

Shikaku's jaw was tightened and so was his hold on Shikamaru's shoulder, the white door was closed and no sound came out of it. With each passing moment, Shikaku's hold slackened but not enough to free him, Shikamaru was being rutted to the spot over the white tile. "I know she was the only option but-" Shikaku's words interrupted the heavy silence but, weirdly enough, he did not expand his concept further, his voice died and quietness surrounded them once more. Mere seconds later, he dragged Shikamaru outside the hospital. The echo of footsteps signaled the following of the rest of the group.

He wanted to ask what was about this woman that put his always rational, logical, neutral father in such an emotional position. What her connection with Inoichi was and, Kamisama forbid, her connection with Ino, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Chöza shook his head in disapproval, and so Shikamaru was left with the wonder.

It was painful for him to bend his knees as to sit on the tatami but he did not complain, his wounds were almost healed, in comparison with what they witnessed before, how could he? Chöza's home was warm and smelled of the tea that awaited its consumption in the kettle. His best friend hands were clumsy and pale against the tetsubin while he poured, a dragon danced in the dark, brown iron, the vapor seemed to flare off its mouth. The one on his house was a serpent, their meanings differed, suited them, and complemented each other. Shikamaru could not remember if he ever drank tea with the Yamanaka. He wondered absently what drawing would dress theirs.

Chöji's hand trembled slightly when handling his teacup, the heat of the beverage made the iron almost unbearably hot but his already calloused fingers were used to hardships, so he held it tightly with them, his palm sweated.

"Ino will be fine," Chöza said and the sound of poured tea halted for just a second until Chöji regained his composure, sighing slightly to release his distress. Shikamaru glanced at the Akimichi clan head, his lips pursed.

"Who was that woman?" He could contain his curiosity no longer, Shikaku did not tense but he gave him a side-glance look, Chöza watched both Nara with a pensive expression.

"Ah, well…" Chöza started, accepting Chöji's tea cup and blowing off the steam, he sipped two times and licked his lips, stretching the silence, "she's… biologically, Ino's mother."

Shikamaru's mouth went dry, Ino's mother? He never actually wondered about Ino's family tree before, the only thing he needed to know was that she was the daughter of the clan head and future teammate. Beyond that, he never cared enough. Now, with the weight of this newly discovered knowledge, he thought that perhaps he should have asked, because now he felt like a fool.

"Biologically?" Was the only thing he was capable of thinking and raised an eyebrow, "are she and Inoichi divorced or something?" It wasn't common for marriages –particularly those from noble families- to be annulled. As it's now, both parties had to agree to dissolve the marriage for the separation to be legally accepted, it took just one of the two people involved to deny such a request for the marriage to go on. Divorce was frowned down upon in the civilian population but in the noble clans? Unheard. Unthought. Clan heads were bounded to present a united front to lead a clan, Shikamaru never considered the possibility of Inoichi being separated from Ino's mother.

At that Shikaku looked at him fully with an expression that seemed to be of disbelief, he watched him up and down, as if seeing him for the first time. "Inoichi and… that woman, were never married." He replied, his brows furrowed, Chöji offered him his teacup and Shikaku accepted but did not drink, he looked at the tea inside. "Ino's conception was arranged."

Chöji's teacup faltered to the ground, it was empty, thankfully, and he blushed a furious shade of red at his father's inspection. "S-sorry," he said, retrieving the teacup, "w-what do you mean arranged?"

Chöza sighed and shook his head, openly disapproving Shikaku with a glare, "all of you were planned beforehand," he said, "I was already married, so when Shikaku weeded Yoshino our clans' councils urged us to have progeny for a new generation of Ino-Shika-Chö. After a couple of years Inoichi still found no suitable wife… so…"

"They chose a Yamanaka with… desirable qualities to pass on an heir." Shikaku provided.

"Why did Inoichi not marry her?" Shikamaru asked. "What do you mean he found no suitable wife?" It was hard to believe that a man like Inoichi was unable to find a woman attractive or interesting enough to wed. The man came from one of the noblest clans of Konoha and the most important lineages, he was to command an entire portion of militia, was wealthy enough to put many entrepreneurs to shame and, if that wasn't enough, the man was considered attractive by a large portion of the female population. Sure there had to be at least a woman in Konoha or Hi no Kuni to entice the clan head enough as to wed her, right? "Didn't he want to have a kid at all?" He snorted.

There was no verbal reply, Chöza and Shikaku looked at each other and then down. Silence fell upon them and Chöji glanced at Shikamaru with wide eyes, even he felt compassion blooming on his chest at the new development. "Listen, now," Shikaku hissed at both of them, "you're not to speak of this with anyone, particularly Ino. If she finds out she was not whished because of you, Inoichi will have no reason to hunt you down because I will be doing him the favor."

"The only thing that matters is that he loves her now, more than anything -" he glanced at Shikaku, his teeth bared, "we shouldn't have said anything –it's not our place, if Inoichi finds out-"

"He won't-" Shikaku replied, "won't he?" He asked and glanced at both Shikamaru and Chöji with a look Shikamaru never saw before, he wondered if his enemies saw this exact same face before shadows engulfed them.

"No!" Chöji sweated, Shikamaru noticed he never served his own teacup, "he won't! We will never-"

"-you better don't." Shikaku interrupted, "there's enough in Inoichi's plate as it is. Between the funeral and… this." He massaged his temples and looked at Chöza, "ANBU wants to question him…"

"Still?" Chöza asked with exasperation, "what more do they want?!"

"I tried to halt them for as long as I could, but Inoichi was who –they have more questions." Was everything he said, "he was not very cooperative the first time they interrogated him, apparently."

"Wonder why, considering he had just laid his agonizing daughter in a bed of a hospital." Chöza knuckles were white.

"He will be fine." Shikaku added, "they will question him tomorrow, routinely, they had said, and I'll be with him." He licked his lips, "I just need to go and warn him about it, I don't want him to find out when they drag him away from Ino. That might set him off."

"They won't let you be with him."

"They can try to stop me if they wish." There was a dangerous undertone in his voice, even Chöza seemed perplexed. "It's been a long couple of days." He sighed when noticing the tension. No one questioned it, after all, it was the truth.

It was a strange turn of events, Shikamaru knew that this type of conversation would have never happened had their fathers not been under such stress and had been not worried about their Yamanaka's peers as they were presently. Neither he nor Chöji would have ever know anything here told had Shikaku being under less pressure, Inoichi being interrogated by ANBU? That was a far bigger slip than the identity of Ino's mother –it wasn't the best-kept secret, but it wasn't theirs to tell regardless-. Shikaku said it was routine, there was no reason not to believe him, but why was he so on edge if it was a simple questioning? Perhaps it was just that, stress, and anything else. He will not start doubting his father, who was he to believe himself smarter than his old man?

Shikaku stood then, scratching the tight skin of his forehead, the teacup dangled in the tip of his fingers and he stretched his arm to handle it to Chöji, who took it without uttering a word. "Chöza, please, take Shikamaru home, I shall go to the hospital again."

"Dad…"

"Obey, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru obeyed.

A/N: Tetsubin is an iron kettle, very important in Japanese culture that marks social status. From its conception, it became more and more common to incorporate symbols in the kettle with which the family that possessed it could identify with. In that sense, the dragon symbolizes strength and power while the serpent means wisdom.