Yeah, Kunai are cool but have you had dessert?

by Authorship

Okay, I'll admit seeing my new dad's Hitai-ate was a massive kick in the (thankfully metaphorical) balls. Sorry, but I don't kill people! AKA an SI/OC fic where the girl is more concerned with the alarming lack of pastries...and appropriate female role models...and adopting misfits and cinnamon rolls...err, oops? At least, I get to troll people!

31. 31) Talk is Cheap (so are cliffhangers)

Chapter 31

Talk is Cheap...and so are Cliff Hangers

…...

The title is because Kiharu is, for such a good speaker, shit at expressing herself. Internalisation is, apparently, her Tea.

The author also loves cutting scenes short so much that why would she limit herself to just one?

Same principle for cake slices.

….…...

"C'mon, Shisui." A hand rested heavy on his shoulder, tugging him slightly away from his lean against the wall. Shisui's forehead was pressed to the cool surface, twisted away in some semblance of privacy.

It was pretty stupid. Ensui could hear his wet, shaking breaths regardless.

Oh, but it was all such a mess.

Kiharu was his best friend. She'd been there when he needed it most and they'd been thick as thieves for six whole years now.

But the thought persisted.

Was it all over now?

He'd been...stupid. Like, really stupid.

But Kiharu was so smart and strong and-!

He didn't realise. He didn't think that she'd be so hurt, so angry and that he'd been doing so much damage pushing her to fix things. Kami but Itachi just evaded stuff like this and…

Shisui hadn't wanted to push him, to make him run from him too.

Kiharu, on the other hand, would push back if he was going too far, would step up if he needed her too.

He'd just failed to realise that it wasn't fair to her either. That it was his place to bridge the gap.

He just...really hoped he hadn't ruined things. That their friendship was reparable, that Kiharu would let him talk.

Because, sometimes, it was hard to remember life before knowing Kiharu. Because knowing Kiharu had brought so many things into his life.

He'd met the Yamanaka, Akimichi and Nara beyond just watching curiously from a distance. He'd met Ensui, who turned out to be both the chillest and the most sarcastic friend he could ever have.

Kiharu, the girl who scowled and deflected any topics regarding her lack of friends her own age, was able to wiggle past the walls and facades of the Uchiha. She hadn't even seemed fazed by them!

Looking back, he'd taken that for granted.

Kiharu was constant. She'd had a nine-to-five job almost since he'd met her and she liked what she liked and kept a routine better than most adults Shisui knew. Maybe that was another reason Nekki's had loyal ninja customers.

It was bright and cheerful and dependable.

"Shisui...Shisui, let's go."

Ensui's grip was unfaltering, fingers twisted in the high collar of his top, and the Jounin allow himself to be guided towards the stairs. There was an arm across his back, like a supporting beam, to steady him as he shuffled down the steps. His knees ached. There must be rain coming in.

Kiharu, he couldn't help but notice, had left her coat. He hoped she wasn't cold and immediately felt guilty for the thought; was it even his business anymore?

He must've said it out loud because Ensui, locking the door after them, cuffed him round the head in a none-too-gentle gesture.

"Idiot. She's still our friend and even if she wasn't, you're allowed to worry."

The older boy kissed his teeth and Shisui was suddenly reminded of Fugaku-sama.

Oh hell.

Shisui's crutches made a quiet tap tap as they walked towards the gate, loud in the street and the stifling atmosphere Kiharu had left behind. When Ensui turned to latch the gate after them, Shisui started restlessly fiddling with his crutches and trying to avoid looking around too much.

He'd had always been welcome at the Dazai home.

Leaving now, it felt like he was trespassing.

Long fingers suddenly burrowed in his hair, scrubbing through the riot of curls with a roughness that belied tension. Shisui, invalid as he was, could only skitter away clumsily, twisting to stare incredulously at his other best friend (other or only?). "What was that for!?"

Ensui blinked, hand lowering back to his pocket and eyes carefully half-lidded. "You were thinking too hard again."

Shisui's mouth twisted, brows furrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A sharp brow quirked. "I work with Uchiha, Shisui, even if I didn't know you so well. Chronic overthinkers. I can almost see your internal, downward spiral into despair." Hands still tucked away, Ensui took two lounging steps closer and Shisui felt...defensive, like a cat with spiked fur.

He shoved the reaction aside. He was not gonna fight with two friends in one day.

"Over-thinking? Did you hear what she said?"

"Yes," The Nara nodded, continuing to walk and inclining his head. Shisui slowly followed. "She wasn't just talking to you, you know."

Ouch. Well, he had to wince at that.

"I'm gonna talk to her. Soon."

His mouth was dry, almost soapy, but he still managed to swallow. "Al..already?"

They neared the corner and Ensui shot him another hard look over his shoulder. "I have to. There's an ongoing investigation and Kiharu-chan is part of that. If she throws stuff at me, at least I need to be able to meet in a professional capacity."

(-Blue eyes, stormy as the sea in winter, bore into his. The hurt shining there was sharper between his ribs than any kunai-)

"Do you think I should too?"

Shisui knew the answer even before his friend could reply, turning the corner and sidestepping the newlyweds three doors down from the Dazai.

"Yeah," Shisui coughed, "never mind."

Ensui tugged the tie from his ponytail, scraping his hair into a low bun and rotating his neck. The Uchiha wondered if it was so Osamu, his boss, would think he'd actually been home since yesterday. Ensui really was fooling no-one. "Give it a while, a few days at least. Kiharu," the Sergeant advised, "is slow to anger but she'll boil for a good long while. Like a volcano; go back now and you won't escape so lucky."

"Should I just...apologize when I can, then?"

This time, when Ensui stopped, it was with a look of undulated aggravation.

He cocked a hip, uncaring for the curious looks garnered by a few passersby. "Seriously?"

Flexing his hands around the grips on his crutches, Shisui sucked on his bottom lip. He felt...ungainly, like a dog with too big paws or a bird whose wings had yet to grow. Weird and awkward. "I'll grovel?"

Olive-toned fingers pinched a furrowed brow. "Right. Right, Okay." Hazel glared up at him. "I'm not even going to get into it because, honestly, I think you need to realise this yourself. But...Shi? That's a crap idea. Just think about what Kiharu said to us and maybe consider that saying? 'Actions speak louder than words'?"

The teen's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "Oh."

"Yeah. Now, I have to get back to the Station, we have some serious shit hitting the fan, but listen." He jabbed a finger at the younger boy's chest. "You're coming to mine for dinner, no excuses. I don't care if you have to Shunshin - and yes, I'm well aware you've been practising your jutsu behind Akane-sama's back - out your window into escape The Aunt From Hell. My house. Six, if you can manage it."

"Right." Shisui agreed weakly.

Ensui nodded once, a jerk of his chin that, from the hand on his neck, he immediately regretted. "Ja ne!"

And he was gone.

The street wasn't busy, just a few families milling around as they set out for the day. Parents to work, children to either the academy or to play in the street, to the park, to wherever they wanted. Just another day in their peaceful lives.

(That was an illusion, Shisui knew now. An arrogance on the part of Shinobi to think that, just because these people didn't throw themselves into fights for a paycheck, that they didn't feel pain or war or darkness. He knew better. He knew better.)

And Shisui kept walking.

When he'd gotten up this morning, after a night staring into the fuzzy darkness of his bedroom ceiling and mentally recounting all the ways to kill a man, it had been with a jitter of nerves in his belly. Like butterflies. But...made of rusty metal. And caused sickness…?

At this point, he was almost resigned to the fact Kiharu attracted trouble like ants to spilled syrup.

But that didn't make it easier to cope.

He thought about the twist to Ensui's smile, about Kiharu's shakiness, when he'd told them about going back into the field. The worry, the fear. And Shisui understood that he was doing the same to them.

(-when they were younger and Kiharu would smile like the sun coming out, arms thrown wide as she ran towards him every time he came back from a mission, short or long, it didn't matter-)

Okay, so, he was a massive hypocrite.

He skipped off the ledge of crooked cobblestone, circuiting around the shopping districts to avoid the crowds and head back to the Compound.

He'd made it to Kiharu's a bit faster than he probably should have, as shown by the ache of his knees, and-

He'd almost gotten into a fist fight with an apex predator and, towards the end, he'd honestly thought Ki-chan was going to punch him.

But, of course she didn't. She wasn't like that and he'd felt ashamed for thinking his best friend would lash out, no matter how angry.

He was in the wrong, he knew that now but...dammit!

Itachi was skittish! Couldn't Kiharu see that, see how he was backing up from them all? Shisui was meant to look out for him, be a good cousin and have the poor kid's back but...stuck here, stuck on these crutches, he'd been worse than useless.

He could talk from sunrise to sunset, yeah.

But Itachi didn't talk, not like that. And nowhere close to any possible eavesdroppers. So, until Shisui was back on duty and could train in the woods, he was in a tight spot.

But Kiharu, she'd gotten through to the others! Sure, not all of them, but no-one could ever please everyone. But she'd done remarkably well and he'd kinda, maybe, sorta, wanted her to work her magic again.

In hindsight, that had been a horrible thing to ask of her.

Kiharu wasn't some magical cure. She wasn't a therapist or a guru or a diplomat. He couldn't just point her at Itachi and demand she help him, even regardless of their own history.

He'd been...mean.

"Urgh," hands indisposed to bury his head in them, Shisui could only clench his eyes shut, still tapping on home as quickly as possible. "I'm a dick."

"I'd say."

Head snapping up, Shisui swallowed hard at the dark figure swaggering out from a sidestreet, about ten meters away.

"Hitoshi." The 'aren't you with Kiharu?' went unsaid but easily heard.

"The cub is at the hospital with the other apprentice girl. I thought I'd stretch my legs."

Shisui licked his lips, determinedly walking forwards as if he hadn't been interrupted. A walk, really? Or did Kiharu continue her fight with you after she'd left and you're in the doghouse too?

For all his bravado, Shisui wasn't quite stupid enough to voice it aloud.

From the dangerous glint to poisonous green eyes, the teen wondered if the panther didn't know his thoughts anyway. Aw, fuck it.

"What is it, Hitoshi?"

Clack, clack, clack-

Slowly, the Summon twisted, padding alongside the Uchiha like an unwilling Guard. Or an Officer overseeing his arrest. What fantastic mental images-!

The cat merely huffed, neck turning his great head away with all the pomp of a Daimyo.

They continued in silence all the way to the Compound and, when Hitoshi wordlessly followed him inside the gates, Shisui almost managed to convince himself that he wasn't about to be mauled.

Almost.

But it was chilling, that heavy gaze on the back of his neck as, balanced on one foot, he fished for his house keys. Less than an hour ago, this same animal had been roaring like thunder and beating down his mistress's door, fully prepared to chow down on Shisui's legs if it meant getting through.

Then again, Shisui was pretty sure Hitoshi wanted to feast on his flesh regardless of his intervention.

Naturally, this particular morning saw his house empty.

No witnesses. Fantastic.

"So…" The teen twisted in the hallway, turning careful eyes to the Summon in the doorway. "Why are you here?"

For a long moment, Shisui didn't think he was getting an answer. In the street behind the panther, his neighbour, Mikoto-sama's third cousin he believed, eyed them both curiously as she passed with her basket.

"Kiharu sent me."

The bottom fell out of his stomach, the thrill of nerves stinging his veins and, suddenly, Shisui's grip on his crutches was unbearably clammy.

"Oh?" he croaked.

Hitoshi stepped closer, swaggering with all the confidence of a Lord in his Court, and emerald eyes swept the room with obvious disinterest before he made himself at home in the nearest patch of sunlight.

(it was very weak, the grey on the horizon threatening another storm later-)

(It was also his Aunt's favourite rug but Shisui didn't even care-)

"After all, she can't ignore you if Seiichi-sama, when he catches wind of this all, kills you."

Rather than slow, Shisui's heart rate only increased. "O-oh."

Emerald glinted in vicious amusement. "Indeed."

….

Beep, beep, beep-

My thumb started bleeding, the tang of copper on my tongue, and I immediately grimaced. The nail was bitten to the quick, a sharp jagged edge pulling at the side in a stinging cut. Bugger.

I sighed, dropping my hands into my lap and fisting them against the nervous impulse to keep picking.

Across from me, Hoshiko didn't even glance up from her embroidery. She'd, rather cleverly, worked out that, if she could complete her workload here, she could spent as much time as possible beside Gin.

Hospitals weren't meant to be exciting or fun of entertaining. And I didn't want them to be but...after my breakdown-

Well, I had way too much time to agonise over everything.

God, but Shisui must hate me!

This was it! I'd fucked it! I'd be spending the rest of my life avoiding the Uchiha and, possibly, dying a lonely old crook with too many cakes and only two friends.

Because, let's face it, the babies didn't count. And Izumo and Kotetsu didn't get on with Shisui so I really didn't want to walk into that minefield-

Hana would stand by me because - in her words, not mine - fuck boys. And I'd have Hitoshi because, as strangely parental as he was, he was my partner.

FuFu was my precious baby-bean and-

A tissue was pressed into my hand, Hoshiko half-risen from her seat to stretch across Gin's feet. Her eyes were sad, mouth stretched in a grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile.

I grimaced back, pressing the starched cloth to my hot cheeks, my slightly swollen eyes already watering. My 'no crying' rule had only lasted long enough for me to send Hitoshi on his way.

I was really quite proud of myself for it.

I'd cried so much into the panther's fur, every time I missed mum or dad was gone or the loneliness hit me so hard I felt breathless. I'd rarely explained myself and, looking at the old sourpuss, you wouldn't have thought he was good with comfort. Except that he was, because he was solid and real and logical and I loved him. It was a strange bond. Like another parent, but also a brother, but also a teacher as well as my partner, a bodyguard and a friend.

I'd let him carry me here before insisting he stop dad from doing anything stupid. Bad enough that he'd scared the shit out of the boys over my damned nose, he wasn't allowed to intervene this time around.

Honestly, it had only taken seeing Hoshiko-senpai and being swept up into another wet embrace for my own tears to start up again.

I was...I was just so tired.

"Tea, Kiharu-chan? Coffee? Water?" Hoshiko's soft query pierced my broody self-reflection, a hand barely even resting on my shoulder, but I shook my head.

"N-" The word caught in my throat, dry and thick, and I swallowed against the lump there before trying again. "No, thank you, senpai."

The door latched softly after her.

Gin, still sound asleep in the bed before me, didn't even stir at the sound. She hadn't so much as twitched the entire time - almost an hour - I'd been here, moping like the selfish dick I was-

She'd been washed, her blonde hair carefully brushed back from her face. They'd taped the gash at her temple, a souvenir from when she'd been smacked against the wall.

If you ignored that, and the deep bruises under her eyes, she looked peaceful.

Revulsion curled in my stomach and it was only when my knuckles cramped, nails stinging my skin, that my fists loosened.

I had purple crescents pressed, throbbing mutedly, into the soft flesh of my palms.

Being pacifistic didn't mean I didn't feel anger, the thrum of violence in my limbs and the ache to lash out. I hurt and I cried and I bled but-

We were allowed to feel. Our emotions are valid and we should always be free to feel.

What wasn't okay was to take them out on others.

It was the thought that stayed my fist, bicep relaxing and arm dropping. The poised blow that never lands.

Because, honestly, what did violence do? What fucking good does it do?

You kill someone who has wronged you? Yes, you have sought and achieved that revenge but...in doing so, you've ruined yourself.

You get into a fist fight and you're both hurt, maybe some innocents too. Your parents are worried and you have to get bailed out and so very little is learned.

I was a great believer in self defense, of course I was. I didn't believe in violence but, above anything, I didn't believe that anyone had the right to hurt you. Had the right to take something from you, as if you were worth so much less than them.

I'd never wanted to lash out, to hurt someone as much as the man from last night.

How dare he, how fucking dare-

But he was out of my reach and I was running out of options.

Shisui...kami, but I couldn't even go there right now.

Ensui…

Hitoshi…

I cast my eyes, that I'd not even realised I'd closed, back to Gin's pale face.

She looked young like this. Like any girl.

Nothing like the Bitch I'd almost grown to like, that I was pretty sure didn't hate me as much as she wanted me to think.

(-her stupid talon nails were badly broken, some of the cuticles bloody from fighting back-)

My gaze, cool and calculating now that I had something to focus on, swept over her features one more time before, pushing my chair back, I stepped out of the room.

I burst into tears on the first nurse I found.

Lilac eyes, pupils blown with exhaustion, popped wide as the state of me (swollen eyes were not pretty) and the young woman, she looked like a mother to be honest, immediately rushed towards me.

Obviously my reputation had died off a bit. Either that or she was new.

"Oh!" Her hands, chapped and worn from work and the gross anti-bac spray they used here, fluttered around my shoulders before carefully drawing me into a hug. "What's happened?"

I hiccuped, chest heaving quietly. The tears were easy, only half-faked, and I mentally resigned myself to a visit to my uncle. I'd put it off long enough and, as evidence of the shit show that morning, I needed to talk. "M-my f-f-f-friend was attac-ked. No-one...understands-"

"Oh…" her breath caught in her throat, hand smoothing over my back in firmer strokes and slowly drawing is both back to her work station. A couple of healers swept past, clipboards in the crook of their arms and stress staining their brows. Restless eyes darted glances at us as they sped on down the hall. "Oh, I see, you came in last night…"

I nodded jerkily, fumbling with Hoshiko's hankie and scrubbing it over my eyes. I'd learnt from Kaa-san that blowing your nose wasn't polite, which was a bit novel for me. "But everyone is looking at me...did we do something wrong?"

A hot stab of guilt to the chest. This was low, even for me, but...I had to know.

"No, no, it's not your fault!" Her hair, cut into a professional bob that curled at the jaw, flared out as she viciously shook her head. She poured me a drink from the water tank beside us, pressing the plastic cup into my hands and not taking her eyes off me. "It's never your fault, it's theirs, and I say that to everyone. It's never the girl's fault, Okay?"

I stared at my water, cupped between hands bitten down from nerves. "Others?"

This was the hard bit. Finding stuff out without blowing it...or hurting the nurse.

She visibly hesitated. There was a drawing pinned under the ledge of her desk. Absently, I wondered if it was from her kids or if a patient had drawn it for her. Genin were heartbreakingly young enough.

"Yes…" her tone was careful, slow as though walking along a tightrope. "Yes, there are other girls. You're not alone."

Easy does it, I internally chanted. I wasn't doing this meanly. I had reasons, valid ones.

"I thought...only Shinobi were treated here?"

She glanced away, hands now loosely clasped in her lap but her body language still open, knees twisted towards me and shoulders dropped. "Yes, that's right. But, like with your friend, sometimes people have to come here and we help them. Just like how your friend is being helped and she'll soon be all better."

My lips felt dry but I resisted the urge to lick them. "Do they sleep like Gin, too?"

The nurse - I abruptly felt guilty for not knowing her name - looked lost for a long moment, eyes blindly scanning the corridor. She was obviously at war with herself about revealing these details to me and I kept as still at possible, not want to spook her and make her clam up.

"No, no they don't." She finally spoke, almost intoning it.

I bit back on the immediate question of who. "Do they talk, like I did last night?"

Lilac, so similar but so different from the Hyuuga that I wondered if she was distantly related, turned back to me. Her eyes were suddenly careful, shrewd as any mothers and I wondered if she knew what I was doing.

I really think she did know.

She spoke up anyway and I breathed.

"No...not always. It's hard to trust men, to trust others when you're hurting."

Lips pressed together, I nodded, climbing to my feet and sweeping into a deep bow. "I-thank you, Healer-san."

"Don't be silly, now."

I straightened, abruptly ashamed under that knowing gaze, and nodded before dashing out of there as quickly as I could.

I didn't breath right until I was in the stairwell, half a case down.

Well, fuck.

So, girls came here, did they? Did they not tell the Police everything or was it that they didn't report it at all?

Ensui has said there had been another girl, last week. She'd fought him off by herself, got herself to the Station and blurted out the whole thing.

He hadn't said her name, probably couldn't, but he had mentioned a stay in the hospital. And, last week, had he not been delivering flowers?

I snapped my fingers, the sudden noise echoing off the walls.

"The blonde teammate."

My feet thudded down the steps, one hand ghosting the railing whilst my other braced against the wall.

I was rosy-cheeked by the time I burst out into the reception area.

And Kami, for all they fucked with me, was merciful for once.

"Hi!" I called, catching the eye of the blonde behind the main desk. "I don't know if you remember me-"

"Ensui-kun's baking friend," she nodded, setting down her tea and quirking a brow. Her pink lip gloss glimmered under the panel lights. "What's up?"

I made a show of resting against the side, fanning a hand to my hot face and puffing my cheeks. "Phew, sorry! I'm in a rush and I can't find him - Ensui-kun, that is - anywhere! Have you seen him? He said he was bringing the flowers again this time-?"

The Nara's old Genin teammate, name on the tip of my tongue, visibly soured, lips pouting like a Kardashian. "Oh, he's visiting that brunette again? She was checked out a few days ago-"

"What!" My eyes popped wide, mouth dropping. God but I was hamming this up. "He didn't tell me! Honestly, Ensui-kun would lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders these days!" I rolled my eyes, smirking when the blonde seemed to agree with an ironic twist to her painted mouth. "You couldn't give me directions, could you? It's just that...I've not been to the new flat yet and I'm obviously really late…"

The blonde - Yuko! Yuko, that was her name - grimaced in consolation. "Sorry, kiddo, but I can't reveal patient information. Are you sure Masaru-san didn't send you a card or anything with a new address? That's what my Oba-chan did a few years ago-"

I ignored the rest of her ramble. Masaru. Masaru...where have I heard that name…

"-completely waylaid with housewarming gifts! Eating leftovers for days!"

I blinked. "O-oh, right! She must've, I'll take another look around then...thanks anyway, Yuko-san. I'll tell Ensui-kun you said hi?"

"No problem and yes, please! Tell him to drop by in my lunch break?"

Her eyes gleamed and I twisted away before she could see my answering grimace. Ew.

"Okay, bye!"

The food vendor was still posted on the street outside and, with a kind of harried frenzy, I bought myself a few pork buns for the road. My stomach felt hollow, face pale.

Too many revelations in too short a time. Like a bloody rollercoaster but without any of my usual insane enjoyment.

A handful of Shinobi were crossing the rooftops around me, leaping around each other in a strange kind of flow of traffic. One of them had longer hair and a blue bandana.

I waved without care and was rewarded with a friendly nod, Genma wiggling his fingers casually before he leapt onto a window ledge, the Jounin offices I thought, and slipped inside.

The bun wasn't very flavourful but it was something hot in my belly and I ate without tasting.

If the terrible night and bad morning were any indication, it was going to be a long day.

…..

It took two cups of coffee, the beans abused so much they tasted like bloody tar, for Ensui to feel some semblance of alive.

His hair was re-tied, skin smarting from a splash in the ice-cold fountain on his way to the Station and he was wearing yesterday's clothes. He'd already eaten at Kiharu's, so at least there was that.

And speaking of...he'd-he'd speak to her tomorrow. He hadn't lied to Shisui about that, after all. Obviously they could all use a little more honesty.

He did need to discuss things with her, give her a chance to both work through her anger and digest the information he'd dumped on her.

He just didn't have the words yet.

The Nara walked up the steps, knees creaking like some kind of old man, and kept his hands tucked into his pockets to hide the faint tremble from the caffeine...and exhaustion.

Maybe he should take up smoking, would that help? Sooth his nerves a bit at least, right?

...Yoshino-sama would kill him.

And, as Akane-sama liked to lecture, so would his lungs in a few decades.

...He'd end up outside, taking smoking breaks with Ryuu.

Nah...not worth it.

The Station was a flurry of activity, papers all but flying as, in a lull of tangible action, everyone tackled the piles of paperwork that built up aggravatingly quickly. A glance around, sidestepping more than one fellow Officer, and Ensui could see Osamu-senpai in his office, Ryuu at his own desk (filing his nails and lazily flipping through a file) and-

A shoulder slammed into his, sending him spinning from the momentum and then all the Nara could see were papers, flapping through the air and there was a sheet under his foot and he was slipping-

A hand wrapped around his wrist, another around his waist, just as Ensui's froze his own shadow to halt the fall.

"Sorry!" A man - an Officer, of course - breathed into his ear, pulling them both upright and immediately dropping to collect the mess of paperwork. "I'm in a hurry!"

It took an embarrassingly long moment for Ensui's Nara brain to kick back into gear and another before the neurons connected, dropping him into a mirroring crouch and casting out his shadow to collect every wayward scrap.

"Ohh...," the other man breathed, somehow sounding endearingly awed, as if he'd never seen a Nara's shadows at work. Or he didn't think Ensui would use them like this. "Thank you."

It was honest and mildly spoken and Ensui blinked. Well. That was...new. Especially around here.

It was enough, however, to have the Nara glancing up to focus, properly for the first time, on the man who'd ran into him.

Thick black hair, an Uchiha standard, was cut close at the sides, slightly longer on top for his fringe to brush long lashes. Dark eyes, another usual for the dojutsu Clan, and skin that was a shade or two more Olive-toned than other Uchiha present. His face, pleasant but not overly pretty, was appealing in a civilian way and Ensui almost smirked at the pink tint to shaven cheeks that appeared under his scrutiny.

He was familiar but not anyone Ensui really interacted with. Hmm.

"It's no bother. Accidents happen to us all," Ensui sat back on his haunches, passing over the papers and standing up.

The other Officer, a fellow Sergeant from his armband, rose up after him. "Right...Uchiha Kagen, Sergeant."

"Nara Ensui."

Finally, a smile quirked the other man's - Kagen's - lips, revealing a charming gap between his front teeth and a dimple in his chin.

"Nara! I thought I told you to get some rest!" Osamu, ponytail neat and shirt buttoned wrong, strode up the aisle to meet them, sweeping between the desks with stressed authority.

"Hai, senpai," Ensui stepped back from Kagen, arms by his side and a smile quirking his lips ruefully. "And I did, last night-"

"You were in late, even without certain events, and the night before, and the night before that. You have to sleep at some point, Sergeant." Osamu sighed, hand on his neck and brows crumpled as he drew to a stop at Ensui's shoulder.

The older man glanced to his relative before doing a double take, eying the mess of papers with open confusion. "Sergeant Kagen? Aren't you supposed to be in a meeting with-"

"Oh shit!"

Kagen-san paled rapidly, bizarrely expressive for an Uchiha, and immediately bolted towards Fugaku-sama's office. Fuck, he was late for the

Chief. Fuck.

Ensui and Osamu, as one, turned to watch him, sandals twisting on the laminated floor to jerk around, dark eyes finding Ensui's across the office space.

"Ensui-san! Coffee later?"

Ensui blinked.

Heat crept up his neck, a fuzziness in his ears. Was he-?

Half a dozen Uchiha-dark eyes looked up in nosey interest, peering between the two men and no doubt planning on gossiping as soon as he answered.

Kagen shuffled his armload awkwardly, expression uncertain.

Oh, right, he had to reply-

"Sure?"

The other Sergeant immediately relaxed, smiling crookedly. "Great, so-"

The door behind him jerked open and Fugaku, expression drifting somewhere between aggravated and resigned, filled up the doorway with his broad frame.

"You're late as it is, Sergeant. In."

The door snapped shut behind them.

"Kagen, huh?" A laughing voice piped up and Ensui, already feeling put on the spot, didn't even bother to turn around.

"Problem, Ryuu?"

The older guy lifted his hands, feet still propped on his desk and crossed at the ankle. "No, no," Black eyes gleamed like oil under the desk lamps and sunlight streaming through the high windows. "Just interesting."

Hazel eyes glanced to the side to meet navy, aware of his boss's silence through the entire thing and shared a sardonic look. "Oh?"

"Figured you'd go for the bleeding heart type," his 'partner' continued. "The noble one, like-"

"Ryuu." Osamu barked. "Be professional for once."

What is going on today? What is with everyone?

"-but Kagen is bitter." Sandalled feet were lowered smoothly, Ryuu leaning forward with a wicked twist to his pretty red mouth and a voice dropping to a conspiratory whisper. "Never developed his Sharingan, see? Very angry about that. Something of an Underdog. If I were you, Ensui-kun, I'd be very careful with that big brain not to bruise such a fragile ego."

"It's just coffee." Ensui pointed out, backing up blindly to lean on the corner of his own desk and crossing his arms. No, he wasn't feeling defensive, he was tired.

"Right." Ryuu leaned back again, picking his nail file back up and examining his flawless cuticles. "Coffee."

"A caffeinated beverage, Ryuu, not a euphemism. Did you leave your brain behind this morning, as usual?"

Said Uchiha's jaw clenched tellingly. "Fuck off, Ensui."

The Nara snorted, twisting around the corner of his desk and into his office chair. A win was a win.

He hadn't even glanced at the files sat waiting for him when he realised Osamu still hadn't moved, frowning down at Ensui with careful scrutiny.

The Chuunin, hands rested lightly on armrests, met his superior's gaze unflinchingly. The morning had been insane enough, he was pretty prepared for anything. "Senpai?"

Behind the DI's back, Ryuu mouthed the honorific mockingly and, out of sight of the older man, Ensui flipped him off.

Osamu had only ever been fair to Ensui. He wasn't going to be a dick (Ryuu) or gossip (everyone else).

Onyx brows furrowed, a divot forming between them and tightening the skin around his eyes. "Ensui-san, Kagen is a good man but, as with everyone outside of us, please do be mindful. We all must be but...bare in mind that, if you do date, you can never work on a direct case together."

A dull flush warmed Ensui's cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, whinsanelyavoided meeting the Detective's gaze at all costs. Wow, he'd not even realised the far windows had blinds and not just shutters-

"It's just coffee but...er, thank you, senpai."

They both coughed awkwardly.

"Yeah - I mean - yes, right. Well, do get Dazai-chan's witness testimony from last night written up and on my desk by today, hmm?"

Ensui's shoulders relaxed minutely, glad to be back on familiar territory. "Hai, senpai."

With one last tug on the little ponytail at his nape, Osamu spun on his heel and, with strange purpose, strode back towards his office, sidestepping Rikari on his way.

"Fuck, well okay." The Nara muttered under his breath, sitting back and ignoring all the pesky, lingering gazes. He was not in the mood for all the bloody nonsense. "That was...something."

"You're telling me, this is like a fever dream," Ryuu snickered, pulling out a bag of tobacco and leisurely rolling up a cigarette. The sight made Ensui scoff; the other man probably hadn't been on shift more than an hour and he was already prepping for a break. Typical.

"You dream of me? Ryuu, I never knew you cared-"

"Oh piss off!"

Mercifully, the rest of Ensui's shift was nothing out of the ordinary.

Well…

Two hours into the mountain of paperwork - that Ensui was pretty sure was one-quarter Ryuu's too, the Bastard - and Kagen-san finally left the Chief's office, still half-crippled under the weight of his files and looking decidedly less flustered. Absorbed in his paperwork, which may or may not have included a sketched brainstorm of what to say to Kiharu next time he saw her, Ensui didn't quite register that fact until the tell-tale hush of almost-whispers swept the office. Oh, but he could well imagine who was approaching to garner such a gossipy reaction.

The clearing of a throat stayed the Nara's pen. Hazel eyes flicked up to meet black.

From this angle, he was undeniably related to Itachi.

"Ensui-san-" and that was another thing. Due to the fact that, well, everyone but him had the same surname, it was just normal to use given names straight off the bat. It would be pretty cold to only use Ensui's last name. But still, in incidences like this, not that he'd had any before it the Station, it felt weird. "Are you still free for coffee? We can go now, or closer to lunch or maybe this evening, if that suits you better."

Neck stretched so his expression was clearly visible behind their visitor, Ensui's asshole of a 'partner' smirked. Nastily.

"You know what? Now would be great-"

"Sergeant Ensui-san!" Rikari, bun windswept from wherever she'd just been on her lunch break, strode between the desks. Her shirtsleeves were rolled to mid-bicep and her red lipstick was slightly smudged. "A moment, please?"

Half risen from his chair, the Nara flopped back down, Kagen awkwardly shuffling to one side. Kami but he was getting more callers than he'd had the last month.

If this was popularity, he didn't want it.

"I just wanted to express my condolences-" Her what? "-I didn't realise your young friend knew Masaru-san. Two friends attacked in as many weeks and to have been present at one of them… I've only just spoken to her but, if you could keep me informed of her progress, I'd be thankful."

Lips parted, a knot of tension cramped like an iron fist in his sternum. "Kiharu…" He mouth formed the words slowly, rolling them around with dripping incredulity. "You mean Kiharu-chan."

Rikari frowned minutely. "Yes? The baker, small brunette? She was just coming to pay her respects when I left, had the most beautiful well-wishing basket I've ever seen. Masaru was very surprised."

His eye twitched. Oh, he bet she was; it wasn't every day, after all, that a midget 13-year-old turned up at your door and bluffed that you were friends. What the fuck is she playing at-

"Right, yes, of course." Ensui bit out. "Indeed, how could I forget? Kiharu talks about her all the time. Actually! I'm surprised I didn't recognise her immediately! Ha ha ha!"

At this point, even Ryuu was staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Would you please excuse me?" Ensui shot up from his seat, fist snatching up his flak jacket and throwing it on in one smooth motion. His eyes fastened on Kagen's. "Maybe coffee another day, Kagen-san?"

Black, distracted by the bunch of his shoulders shrugging the vest up his arms, snapped up and blinked rapidly. "Oh, right. Yeah, that's fine, just...let me know?"

The Nara's mind was already spinning ahead, locking up his desk and, with barely a nod, he booked it out of there.

"I'll guess I'll fucking cover for you then!" Ryuu's dry call was the last thing he heard before Ensui was jogging out the doors, past the receptionist and leaping the steps clear.

Rikari had obviously just been with Masaru so-

He wasn't sure where the civilian woman lived but-

Kiharu...that little sneak.

He didn't know how she did it, how she'd found the other victim… Kami, he'd only told her yesterday morning and Kiharu had found her by Rikari's lunch break.

That kind of ridiculous productivity...she was up to something.

…..

Masaru-san's house was lovely, all clean lines and gentle pastels. There were bouquets filling every surface in her kitchen and beans soaking in the sink.

The woman in question, sat opposite me at the table, was dressed in pretty pastels too, with flowers braided into a crown around her head and lose petals caught in the wispy strands.

The effect was rather ruined by the yellow bruising around her throat.

That and the carving knife.

"-it's an original recipe! Just matcha and cream and other natural stuff. It was one of the first - actually, I think it was the first - of my desserts that Mikoto-hime, Rikari-san's Clan Matriarch and my business partner, tried. Honestly, between you and me, I think it's this cheesecake that made her take an interest in the whole baking thing. Well, this and that time Iruka-kun, my friend who recently became a Chuunin, sent my tiramisu flying. Kami but I almost set my Tou-san on him for that stunt! It was supposed to be for Mikoto-hime's tea party-"

Pink painted nails rested over the handle again, stiff with nerves. "Please don't avoid the question."

My smile was decidedly more forced. "I told you; I heard about what happened, Masaru-san, and I wanted to drop some things by. You're a regular at my Oba-san's shop. You know, Yuri, the seamstress?"

Her eyes were slightly wide still. Obviously stressed.

I made sure to keep both hands visible, body lose and open and to smile as genuinely as possible when I had a knife across from me.

Okay so some slight oversights. I really hadn't expected this when Masaru had let me in, waving off the Policewoman that had been drinking tea in the seat I was now sat in.

Fuck but that just made it worse. Imagine having the audacity to attack someone dating an Officer. To me, that spoke of both a reckless overconfidence...or a possible vendetta.

Unfortunately, I hadn't taken into account that some traffickers used small children to lure women into a position to be grabbed. Fuck.

Eyes still fixed on the kitchen knife, that looked pretty damn sharp, I decided that honesty was the best policy.

"Right. Okay, listen. Last night? My friend Gin - yeah, the blonde girl from the store? - was attacked." Masaru jerked and I rushed to continue, rambling with nerves. "She got away! She's okay as she can be. But I interrupted the man and I...I saw him, Masaru-san."

Her eyes were like holes in her face.

"I saw him and I need to find him before things get even worse. So I need to know...how tall was he?"

The older woman, slowly drawing away from me in subconscious defensiveness, paused. Half turned, like she couldn't bare to look at me whilst I said such things, pure confusion rippled across her face. "Pardon?"

"In relation to yourself, how tall was the man?"

Masaru, in a flurry of motion that had me jerking back, wept from her seat, stabbing the knife into its slot in the block by the oven and began washing her hands in the sink. Her knuckles were white. "Taller than me. He-" Her voice, starting off hard, rapidly disappeared and I could only sit there, helpless, as she raised one wet hand to brush away a tear. "He fit my shoulders under...under his arms."

My lips parted. Fuck...he'd been big then. How scary must-

"Wait." My eyes snapped back up. "The guy who attacked last night...he was shorter, the same height as Gin. There's more than one person?"

Masaru shut off the sink. "This is a trend?"

The doorbell rang.

Fuck but it felt too perfectly timed and I rose on ready legs, twisting around my chair to put the table between me and the door. I grabbed the wooden chopping board off the side for good measure, testing the weight in my hands. Solid wood? Yeah, this could knock someone out in a pinch.

Masaru obviously had the same idea, picking up her knife again (not a cleaver or bread but still pretty big) and slowly undoing the latch.

I readied the board, arms bent and propped it against my shoulder for the best momentum.

The door opened and-

"Threatening an Officer with a weapon is a chargeable offence, Masaru-san, and Officer Rikari wouldn't be allowed to post bail."

The strength left my shoulders, chopping board dropping to squish against my cheek. "Ensui?!"

The Nara, still blocking the light through the half-opened door, sighed. "May I please come in?"

Masaru lowered the knife.

I didn't lower the board.

"What's going on?"

Hands casually made visible from an aborted move to put them in his pockets, Ensui stepped into the kitchen. Dark eyes, made black in the light, swept over the water-splashed sink, the empty space in the knife block and the way I was positioned behind the table.

"I was at the Station," the older guy started idly. "Doing some paperwork, as you do. And Rikari-san comes over to offer her consolations. Imagine my surprise because I didn't know you were such good friends."

I smiled, fingers sticking slightly to the wood. "Ah, no-" triumph at the admission danced in Ensui's gaze and I had to crush it. "-I only met Officer Rikari this afternoon."

Ensui clicked his tongue. "I think we need to talk. Fancy a bite?"

I glanced over his shoulder at Masaru, who, thankfully, appeared much less stressed and much more confused.

"Sure. I could eat."

"Thanks, Teuchi-san," I grinned widely as the Ramen Chef popped my bowl down in front of me. Aromatic curls of broth drifted over the immediate area, warm and homely. "Where's Ayame-chan?"

The crows feet around the older man's eyes, no doubt from years of laughter, crinkled at the thought of his beloved daughter. "She just popped out, Kiharu-chan. We had a little ramen-addict in earlier for breakfast-" I rolled my eyes fondly, sharing a smile with him at the notoriety of Naruto "-so we're a little low on veg."

Snapping my chopsticks, with a rub for good luck, I started fishing around for the pickled ginger. "Vegetables? Don't tell me he eats them now! Have I entered an Alternative Universe?"

Ensui, sat on the stool next beside me, twisted to stare with quirked brow when I cackled a little too hard at my own joke.

Okay, c'mon, it was ironic!

Sighing at the tough crowd, I stuffed some udon in my mouth. And beside me, Ensui sighed.

"Listen, Kiharu. I'm-" The Chuunin gruffly cleared his throat. "...I'm really sorry I haven't been a good friend to you. I do trust you. But...Itachi's secrets are his own and the thing with the Station is really sensitive...but Shishou was right. You do deserve to be kept in the loop." Ensui's hazel eyes, previously fixed to his own untouched bowl, met mine. He sounded...genuine.

"This isn't," I quirked a smile, eyes a little misty, "just because you want my info?"

A smile broke the solemnity of his face, helpless and soft, and Ensui raised a discreet hand to wipe his own eyes, slipping his free arm around me and hugging me to his side for a long moment. "Maybe only 20 percent for the info?" he joked.

I fished out a shrimp. "Lucky for you, I do have a tidbit to share."

Ensui released me, twisting in his stool until our knees bumped and he could rest an elbow on the counter. "Oh?"

"Okay so, first little something - you're welcome, by the way-"

"Charmed."

"-is that the man who attacked Masaru-san and the guy Gin and I met were of two different heights. Ergo they're different people."

Ensui sighed, finally taking a bite of ramen and chewing impatiently. "Ryuu figured it was traffickers but evidence to support that just curls my stomach."

I eyed his tense expression. "Maybe you shouldn't eat much more until I'm done telling you then."

The Nara's chopsticks hit the edge of his bowl with a clatter. "Fuck, what now?"

I bit my lip. "One of the nurse hinted that Masaru and Gin aren't the first girls to have come to them."

"Domestic violence and beatings are rare, yeah, but not uncommon, especially in older households or after wartime-" The older boy frowned, eyes fixed on the middle distance.

"She hinted," I slurped up some both, "that they were unreported. And...well, not every crime is reported. Assault and Rape etc. particularly more so. People are scared...and ashamed. They might not come to the Police so we may be working with more victims than we think."

Ensui's fingers started twitching.

Do they even have HR here? If so, Ensui is gonna be reported. First the insomnia and then the forgetfulness. Now he's getting spasms?

I covered his fingers with my own, warmed from cupping my ramen bowl. "Hey."

He glanced at me from the side of his eye. When was the last time I saw him with his hair styled? When...when was the last time he put on his eyeliner?

"Let's go back to yours, Okay?"

Hazel dropped to our hands, the tremble still visible even anchored under mine.

"...okay."

"Hey Teuchi-san! Can we get the rest of this to go?"

The walk was made in silence and, when we arrived outside the Nara's building, the first thing I noticed was the dead flowers in his window box, several floors above us.

"Hey, Akane's roses died?"

Fishing for his keys, Ensui almost jumped, twisting to squint upwards as if even he didn't know that. "Oh. Yeah...dried out in the heat, I guess."

I dropped my arm, staring a hole between his shoulder blades with a skeptical twist to my mouth. Heat, huh? With all the rain?

Now, I hadn't been to Ensui's flat in...pfft. Six weeks? When he was so busy, going to his place was almost counterproductive to finding him as any downtime Ensui had was either spent at mine, Nekki's or Yoshino's. I mean, at this rate I was pretty sure Shikamaru thought Ensui actually was his brother. Yoshino and Shikaku had certainly done nothing to deny it.

I mean. I'd known Ensui how long? And I'd never met his actual parents.

Found families and all that goodness.

All I knew about his father was that he was...traditional. And Ensui was...not.

When Ensui cracked open the front door, I was immediately hit by how stale it smelled. Call me sensitive or whatever but-

"You've barely been here."

The Chuunin, stooped to gather a handful of mail, tensed under my gaze. I was still stood on the threshold, eyes scanning over the half-pulled blinds, visibly dusty and illuminating the dust in the air, the used coffee cups by the sofa. There were stains on the low table and the TV screen was, you guessed it, dusty.

"I've been busy, Okay?"

God, I was getting PTSD to university all over again.

It was just like student houses during-

"Exam season." I muttered, finally stepping inside and swinging the door closed behind me. Nothing smelt off but I was overwhelmed with the odour of skin and dust and generic musk.

And coffee. God but Ensui must've been coming here to literally collapse into bed and drink caffeine between shifts.

Well...even smart people have a limit to their own functionality.

Ensui had yet to turn around, no doubt poised for a rant about cleanliness and looking after himself. I did neither of those things. At this point, it wouldn't just be rude but unproductive too and I'd only hurt his feelings.

It wasn't anything Ensui hadn't heard before. He needed help, not to be told off.

"Crack the windows, will ya?"

I stepped forwards, dancing around my fellow brunette and snagging up the empty cups from the table. It wasn't until I was dumping them in the sink, alongside a couple of bowls (which looked to have been used to microwave mine and Yoshino's leftovers) and a handful of chopsticks that Ensui moved, silently doing as I said.

The taps squeaked as I turned them on and, a moment later, I could here the boiler groan in protest as the gas fired up. Score!

At my prompting, Ensui quickly got the livingroom and kitchen to straights, running his secondhand hoover around and then a duster whilst I finished up in the sink and then wiped down all the counters. Mercifully, although aggravatingly, the fridge was bare so there wasn't any food stinking it up. I added a grocery shop to my mental checklist.

I hands down refused to touch his bedroom, however. That was private and...Ensui was an adult.

If I found his porn stash, I don't think my sanity would survive the experience intact.

So, whilst Ensui's cleaning accumulated a dizzying pile of laundry, I tackled the bathroom. Which was, as expected of a dinky one person flat, small and, therefore, pretty quick.

It was a wet room so I'm not ashamed to say I took the mop to the walls.

By this point, it was almost 3 and Ensui's ramen was still sitting, neglected, on the kitchen counter. So, whilst I shoved the Nara into his squeaky-clean bathroom with a towel and some briefs, I shoved the takeaway container in the microwave.

"Sit." I tossed him some chopsticks and gestured to the meal waiting for him by the sofa.

Ensui, hair in a wet bun and looking about a billion times more alive than he had in weeks, sat.

"I didn't want to say earlier because, well, we were in public, but Shisui gets his crutches off tomorrow. Will you go with him?"

Slowly, I lowered myself onto the sofa next to the Chuunin, tangling my fingers in my lap and conscious of his gaze on the side of my face. Ensui's windows, now gleamingly clean, opened out

"You're not going?"

I smiled, fake as plastic. "I'd rather our first conversation be a little more...timely."

The clatter of chopsticks and then Ensui was replying, unashamedly, through a mouthful of noodle. "Stick around for dinner. Shisui's coming at six. Talk then."

"Ensui." I snapped, still staring ahead, and immediately regretted it. My shoulders, that I hadn't even realised I'd tensed defensively, slumped in defeat. "I don't think it's as simple as that. Shisui and I… last time we fell out, I was just so grateful he believed me."

"And you never addressed the actual issues did you?"

Lips clamped together and eyes unfocused, I shook my head.

Shisui and I...it was just so easy to forgive each other. And a considerable part of me was scared that, as soon as I saw him again, we'd go flying into each other's arms and crying and waving it all away. In the end, it would get us nowhere. You had to face your problems proactively. And come up with solutions and make sure you learned from mistakes. Covering stuff up or pretending all was well was how explosions, like this morning, happened.

Often times, parents pretending that things are okay for the sake of the children or whatever for years...it was actually how cheating and divorces come about. Because the communication breaks down.

With Ensui, I understood that he was wading through red tape and he was much older than me. In a different part of his life. He wasn't even a teen any more and I'd only just become one. And I'd mainly been insulted by his lack of faith in me, in my ability as a friend to help shoulder his burdens.

But with Shisui...we both needed to reassess some things. And I liked to think I was mature enough to step back and see where my own actions had been harmful.

"Not tonight, Ensui. I'm gonna go see my uncle, we have some things to talk about. So...will you?"

Movement out the corner of my eye and Ensui was extending his chopstick, a strip of beef offered solemnly. "Sure thing, Kiharu. I owe you plenty."

…..

I sincerely doubt my week could've gone worse after Gin's attack and my fall out.

Thankfully, on the work front at least, I was somewhat correct.

Mikoto, bless her heart, didn't have the Spanish Inquisition waiting to spring on me when I returned to Nekki's two days later, face healed and heart still bruised. She didn't pounce at the chiming of the door, didn't start flinging accusations as to why her favourite nephew was anything but sunny.

I wasn't wearing my usual, which Yuri-oba was still trying to salvage, but a lavender yukata instead. My thick hair was in a tight French braid, running all the way down the curve of my spine and with butterfly clips pinning back my bangs. Dad was a surprising quick learner on that front and my shoulders, sick of twisting to try and do if myself, were grateful.

Mikoto was washing down the tabletops.

"Morning…!" The Uchiha Matriarch glanced up, hands spread on the gleaming wood as she lent across to wipe down the pale surfaces.

My lips twisted into a lopsided, awkward smile. "Morning."

Organising the cold fridge display, Eiko-san looked up and smiled.

Ahh...time to feign professionalism.

"Ohayo, Kiharu-sensei!"

Oh fuck.

I slapped a hand, unashamedly, to my forehead, groaning loudly in embarrassment. I was like...five foot nothing! Eiko was taller than Tou-san, with hair almost longer than I was (not really, but you get my drift) and as black as her lipstick. Which looked insanely dark and perfect compared to the powder she used to take the grey of her shave off her jaw.

Ergo she was so cool it made the honorific all the more painful. This wasn't a spoof.

"Please, please, please."

Dressed in a deep red yukata with a navy and white bib around her waist, Eiko blinked innocently. "Yes, sensei?"

I whined.

The 19-year-old laughed, low and throaty with jaw tilted back and I welcomed the distraction from meeting Mikoto's warm gaze.

Well...for about 2 seconds before she spoke up again.

"Cheesecakes or hot puddings today, Kiharu-chan?"

Okay, Okay, I could do this. I could do this.

I slowly relaxed, tying my apron with a looping bow and washing my hands in the sink.

"Cheesecakes," I sighed, turning to meet dark eyes. "I should think, Hime."

The day sifted slowly, time sludging on and unbroken by the usual (normal for any business) hiccups. I was...grateful. Easy. After talking to Masaru and finally clearing a lot of things with Ensui, not to mention helping with the case a bit, I'd composed a kind of fragile peace.

Inoichi-oji had been pretty exhausted last night, when I went around to chat as I'd promised Ensui and myself, so I'd agreed to come back later in the week.

Maybe the extra time would prove even more helpful too.

Call me an idiot but whatever.

I did breathe easier every time the bell jingled, my gaze snapping up and heart thumping and palms sweating-

It was never Shisui.

Part of me...mourned. That it wasn't him. That I didn't have his visits to look forward to, a lunch to split and a voice, still cracking occasionally, to make me laugh.

But, mostly, I was quietly glad. Because I wasn't ready yet and, honestly, I was ashamed.

I'd said the hard truths, yes, but it had hurt that I had to. That it had come to that. Especially with how happy he'd been coming inside, smile audible in his voice when he called up the stairs and unwittingly interrupted my argument with Hitoshi.

But it wasn't good, wasn't healthy to internalise these things. People weren't mind readers. You couldn't expect them to just look at you and know what was wrong. Friends weren't there to be a crutch. They loved you and supported you but...No-one had to put up with that. It wasn't a job. It wasn't fair.

Friendship was a two way street.

I'd been keeping quiet for a while now. Because I was private, yeah, but a lot of my issues I couldn't talk about. Reincarnation was a topic that could never come up, not to mention my struggle with the knowledge garnered. I'd been quiet about Itachi too. I worked with Mikoto, was close to Shisui and I was on good terms with the gatekeepers and a number of the Officers, not to mention Elder Akane. Talking about Itachi, how he'd suddenly started avoiding me...not to mention my fears for his future…

Well, it felt wrong. Cheap and bitchy and I didn't want to put anyone, myself included, into an awkward position.

So I'd put up and shut up.

Until I just couldn't.

And here we were.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Nekki's! How may I help you?"

Cakes, customers and cooking was something I could do. I felt...capable. less like a train wreck and more like a functioning person. Who just happened to own their own business.

And had woken up to a chin spot this morning too. Absolutely fantastic.

Honestly, I better walk out the other side of puberty with dewy fresh skin or I wanted an anime-refund. Heads up peeps, spots don't stop as soon as you turn twenty and one of my professors had had braces in her forties.

It was an hour to closing when a very much welcome head of scruffy brown hair ducked inside the door.

"Raidou," I smiled, relaxing into a much more genuine expression instead of my beaming customer one. "How are you? I'm glad you came in."

The Guard smiled back, pink tinting his cheeks and obviously pleased at the attention. "I'm good, so's Gen'." He nodded over his shoulder and, a moment later, the Tokubetsu in question was ducking inside too. "We're just off patrol so some churros, please?"

I was two steps ahead, dropping the batter in the fryer and flapping a hand for them to sit at the bar and keep me company. It was just me left at this hour; Eiko only worked from opening to one, because she was new and I wasn't mean. And because she was also still working as a singer at night in a bar four streets over. And Mikoto? Well, she'd been slowly taking over my baking quota that I filled each evening for the following work day. If we were gonna expand, it was all hands on deck.

Also she'd really covered my ass here recently, so I figured she more than deserved to head on home early.

"What's with the conspicuous absentee?" Genma smirked, tucking his senbon into an empty ear piercing whilst he ate. He reminded me a bit of Violet Beauregard when he did that.

My expression must've fallen because, suddenly, I was facing two much more serious men.

"Ahhhhhhhh," dark eyes glanced to share a look with their partner's before flicking back to mine. The look on Nee-chan's face was aggravatingly knowing. "You've fallen out with Shisui-kun again."

I dipped the prongs in the hot oil, turning the churros with my other hand propped on my cocked hip. "At least phrase it as a question."

"I don't have to, so why kid yourself, kid?"

"Raidou, Nee-chan's being mean." I didn't glance up from my work, bland as plain rice.

"Sorry, Kiharu-chan, that's out of my jurisdiction. However, I might be persuaded to beat someone into the ground in our next spar-"

I was turned away, ladling out the warm chocolate sauce into a dipping pot, but clearly heard the brief scuffle that broke out. My teeth sank into my bottom lip, beyond tempted to blurt out a comment about getting a room but- Nah. I wasn't quite that mean.

The operative word being 'quite'.

Genma, lips parted with an answering jibe, shut up real fast at the unholy glee in my gaze. Hmm...he'd learned.

"There!" I finally popped the plate down between them, the two Shinobi not even waiting for it to have left my grasp before they were scolding themselves on the piping-hot dough. "You paying or is it a tab kinda day?"

"I'll get it," Raidou fished for his wallet with his left hand, his right currently swirling half a bite in the sauce.

I glanced at Genma, lips curling. "How honourable."

The assassin breathed the wrong way, spluttering whilst Raidou, looking suitably abashed, slapped him between the shoulders and I, not ashamed in the slightest, passed over a cup of tap water.

Kami but I wasn't even trying or even being obvious! It wasn't like I'd cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered 'gayyyyyy!' down the main street at them!

If Genma, of all people, couldn't take a smidgen of dry humor, then the unresolved sexual tension must be e.

Pfft.

It was then that the bell jangled again and, glancing at the clock that read half-four, I stifled a whimper. Why must people come in so close to closing?

It was then that I clocked the two blonde heads, illuminated by the low afternoon sun coming in from the windows and beamed.

Fuck stress and Shisui and stressing about stress and stressing about Shisui-!

"Imouto! Naruto-kun!"

Ino was evidently in an excellent mood, daisies messily stuck in the hair as her temples and grass staining her knees. Clasping her hand, even Naruto looked content to be here, which was a steady improvement over the past few months.

"Nee-chan, look! Look! Naruto-kun did my hair and it's not very neat but I think he's getting the hang of it so-"

I ducked around the counter before bending as if to examine her hair, noting for the first time the two small, if a little uneven, plaits behind her ears. It was into these that the daisy stems had been slotted and I'll admit to being even more impressed. Ino's hair, I knew from experience, could be quite fiddly with how fine it was.

"Wow, Naruto-kun," I breathed, making sure the admiration in my low voice was nothing but genuine. "It's lovely. Well done."

The jinchuuriki beamed, bright and simple as the sunlight outside, which was just brushing the rooftops and the mountains.

"Right!" I straightened back up and scrubbed my hands together. "I'd say you deserved a pancake for that, right, Ino-chan?"

"Yes!" The blonde bounced forwards before freezing, seemingly struck by a realisation. "Do I get one too?!"

I leaned back on the side, scrunching my face up in feigned consideration and tapped a finger to my chin. "Oooh...I'm not so sure about that. What do you say, Naru-chan?"

The poor blonde barely had a second to open his mouth before Ino was on him. Beside me, Genma, and beyond him Raidou, snorted into the last of their churros.

"Well?! Tell her yes!"

"Ino!" I spluttered, backtracking and stooping to loop my arms around her little waist, heaving her up and away before popping her down into Genma's unsuspecting lap. "No strangulation!"

The Tokubetsu, although faintly taken aback, good-naturedly curved an arm around the petulant heiress.

"I was trying to!" Naruto complained, even going so far as to stamp a little foot and crossing his arms. Ahhh, this was familiar territory at least.

Repeating my actions with Ino, I bent over and heaved the Uzumaki onto my hip. Compared to the last time I'd done this, Naruto barely tensed at all and I just had to beam in triumph.

He was blushing though, so I decided to put him out of his misery.

"Keep an eye on the rascals?" I blinked, fluttering lashes and all the works, and Raidou conceded. I was glad because if he'd made a fuss…

Well. It wouldn't have been good for the poor kid.

By the time I'd swung back behind the counter and washed my hands, pouring the batter on the hot plate and fishing two plates from the cupboard, Raidou was gently tying his own hitai-ate to Naruto's forehead.

I stopped dead, breath pausing in my throat.

Raidou had his back to the sunlight, the hazy golden glow to the bakery softening the scars across his cheek, and, coupled with his startlingly tender expression, he looked...paternal.

I'd seen Genma look like that plenty. When he'd first taken the boys in, when he'd checked over their bags for missions or their various Chuunin exams or that one time he'd come home to find that the four of us had already made dinner.

I didn't even know if Raidou in Canon had ever resented Naruto. All the other times they'd interacted here, it had always been with a kind of tolerant amusement, like when you were sat next to someone else's kids on the train. (Nice brats, not the horrible or screamy ones, of course.)

Without even meaning to, I glanced at Genma.

His lips were parted, jaw relaxed and brow unfurrowed. The expression itself was almost blank, this side of surprised or maybe even incredulous.

But his eyes.

I'd spent years joking about it and I'd shipped the characters they'd once been but...it was different to see it.

The scent of burning suddenly intruded and I yelped, jumping like I'd been prodded. Whipping around, I groaned at the burned mess on the hot plate.

Ino giggled and the mood was shattered.

"Sorry, sorry!" I slid my spatula under the ruined...thing...and pulled it off the heat.

Raidou chuckled, almost immediately turning back to his temporary charge and started explaining why he couldn't just give the headband to Naruto, but Genma merely blinked. Brown eyes glanced over and I was suddenly struck by the realisation that Genma had only just realised and he knew that I knew that he knew.

Distractedly, I wiped down the pan (if you wipe fast, it can't hurt you - this is terrible advice, don't do this, fuck-) and started the crepes again.

But fuck if I couldn't stop thinking about how Genma was honest-to-Kami in love with Raidou.

And, by the looks of things, he'd only just realised it too.

….

Seiichi-san didn't come to kill him that day.

He didn't come the day after either.

It was more than a bit tragic, the way Shisui had literally been cooped up at home. Kami but even Hitoshi had called him pathetic that first day when he'd basically tossed kunai and shuriken at the tree in the garden. And practised everything until his fingers were red and sore.

Granted, the panther had called him lots of other things too. No wonder Kiharu had started swearing pretty young, Shisui had picked up words from missions so-

The huge circle of dead grass where the three of them had burned Shisui's wheelchair didn't help his mood much either.

And, to make matters worse, Ensui had already spoken to Kiharu!

(-Ensui's flat was surprisingly tidy, the younger boy being used to seeing it in a state of a casual, lived-in messiness. Dinner was simple duck pancakes and a bunch of other veggie dishes. If his friend hadn't been looking so pale recently, Shisui might've even complained.

As it was, he was a tad distracted by the miso broth he'd breathed the wrong way.

"W-w-what?!"

The pats on his back were steady, soothing. Calm. Basically everything Shisui wasn't.

"You already talked to her?!"

"Shisui," The older boy sat back, templing his fingers and resting forearms on knees. Red faced and still a little teary-eyed, Shisui just wheezed. "Shisui, I need you to listen very closely: whether Kiharu and I have talked doesn't have much to do with you. It may sound harsh but you shouldn't feel like it puts a stopwatch on you and Kiharu resolving this shit because we're already talking."-)

Honestly, he'd understood where his friend was coming from but-!

Okay, so he had no excuse.

Shisui hadn't ever really had an issue with being proactive. If things went wrong or he was involved, he was fully capable of tucking in with both hands. Most of the time the inconvenience was other people.

Damned red tape.

But...Kiharu was different.

He knew what he had to do. He just...he was reluctant to do it.

All this time, for months now, he'd been gently, gently, encouraging Itachi back out of his shell that Danzo had shoved him into. What with graduation and his new team, the younger Uchiha was finally socialising a bit. Talking to other people again, not just his trainers and Sasuke and him. Kami, but he could even have friends.

As it was, Shisui was reluctant to disrupt that.

But, it wasn't just the situation with Kiharu this affected. And she certainly hadn't demanded or even asked Shisui to get answers from his cousin (not in the way he was taking it, at least). Shisui needed to know stuff too.

Like if that Kabuto kid was weird.

"I'm gonna talk to him." The words, spoken out loud, seemed more binding somehow. Like a promise or affirmation he was held to.

"I am gonna talk to him. I am."

The skies were dove-grey, bustery and speckled with flocks of birds. The Jounin didn't know what kind.

He was wearing his old training trousers, bound at the thigh and everything. Honestly, if he was going to this, he wasn't going into this prepared.

Oh Kami, he was going to talk to Itachi.

The muttering garnered a few looks but Shisui was both shameless enough and distracted enough that it didn't bother him. Just a normal fifteen year old muttering in the streets. Nothing to see here…

"I'm going to talk to him."

"Priority on the outstanding doctor's appointment, I think."

The quiet sass, unmistakable even if it sounded slightly nervous, had Shisui's head whipping up and 'round.

Kiharu, standing on the steps of the clinic, bit her lip. "Hi."

His heart thudded.

(was that dread or joy or what? He couldn't even tell-)

"H-hey." He even sounded breathless.

At least Kiharu looked just as nervous, blue eyes skittered to the side and hands clasped behind her back. Her toes, just peeking over the edge of the step and in her usual red shoes, bounced with restless energy.

He'd staring at her for a long second before he realised they'd fallen silent for a beat too long and, stepping forwards, he immediately tried to smooth things over again. "Shall we go in?"

He hopped up the three steps but Kiharu just blinked, ocean eyes meeting his for the first time and she didn't move an inch.

"Um, Kiharu-chan...the door-"

The handle was directly behind her.

"What? Oh!"

The younger girl was a sudden flurry of motion, twisting around - the momentum swinging her hair into his face but it was such a familiar thing that Shisui, embarrassingly, actually liked it - and tugging on the door to no avail.

"Um-" Catching his other crutch, Shisui hesitantly raised his now-freed right arm and, reaching around the slighter brunette, pushed on the glass of the door. "It's a push door, Kiharu-chan…"

When she didn't answer, - merely freezing long enough for him to realise he was almost hugging her, oh fuck - Shisui internally panicked. Oh god, way to patronise someone, oh heck-

Her ear, peering out from her loose, curly hair, was cherry red. After another moment, Kiharu tried the door again, pushing it open successfully and-

"Oh! Er- thanks-!" she squeaked.

-and they blustered inside, avoiding looking anywhere near each other as Shisui walked, barely using his crutches, to the receptionist desk and checked in with the very amused girl there. Who'd seen everything. And was, even worse, only a couple of years older than them.

Kami, this was bad!

She was wandering around the waiting room, now boring and familiar after the past few months, and Shisui might have bought into her coolness. If he hadn't just scrambled at the door with her.

Her shaking hands were unmissable too.

That was a thing about Ki-chan. He wasn't even sure she knew she did it but she kinda...trembled? It was like the smallest shiver, a bounce of her knee if they were sat down or a shake in her fingers. It was only when she was nervous and he'd mentioned it to Ensui before but the Nara hadn't even noticed, frowning at Shisui like he was chattering nonsense.

(Ensui only started shaking when he was dead-beat exhausted, like when he'd been training for the Chuunin exams a good few years ago and he'd been revising the written exam with a faint tremble shaking his papers.)

(Shisui only shook when the adrenaline hit too hard, all bouncing nerves and restless energy.)

"I...I didn't think I'd see you here."

It had sounded...so much better in his head. But the words were out there now and-

"I almost didn't come." Shisui turned, patient, but Kiharu had her back to him and gave no indication of turning around any time soon. "I even asked Ensui-kun if he could be here for you, because I didn't want to but you shouldn't have to come alone."

Shisui wet his lips. "Why did you?" he asked, hushed.

Kiharu's shoulders dropped. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of, after all this time, you coming here without me. Shisui…" Her head twisted, almost looking around at him but stopping before their eyes could meet. "Shisui, you've talked about walking again for months. I wasn't gonna miss it."

Throat working silently, the Jounin's mouth pursed, fighting the urge to cry or grab her in a hug or anything.

Kami but she was a better friend than he deserved right now.

"I'm sorry."

This time, Kiharu did turn fully. Blue eyes wide and pink lips, worried red, slack. "What?"

"I'm really, really sorry but I know this isn't the best time. I'm not asking you to forgive me and I know it's all well and good to say it but if nothing changes- I. I'm working on it, Ki-chan. But I'm," Kiharu only looked more upset, breathing slightly quicker with moisture gathering along her lower lash line and Shisui lost whatever dodged momentum he'd managed to scramble together. "I'm. I'm, uh, really grateful." He swallowed hard. "So, thanks for being amazing, Ki."

The receptionist sniffed loudly.

They both froze.

…..

It was a bad week all around.

Pulling shifts at the missions desk was a...a trying thing.

Because, for all the Shinobi were soldiers conditioned to follow orders and commit deeds for the sake of the village and a paycheck, they got really fucking pissy over their jobs.

It was almost enough to make him miss Maito Gai because you could hand that boy a mission to shovel shit in a ditch for three months and he's thank you for it. Genuinely, too, as if it was the deed for a Villa in Tea.

Then again...maybe, for the sake of his ears and his innocent daughter, he was better off on ANBU for a while longer.

Hyuuga and Uchiha were particularly entitled about the sorts of missions they were assigned. Civilian born were always either insulted, incredulous or both. And the smaller clans, don't even get him started.

In actual fact, everyone was terrible and Seiichi would quite like to quit.

Unfortunately, it was a choice between tracking missing-nin across six different countries or sending other people out to do it. And, considering the horrors going on disgustingly locally, the Dazai was fervently glad he'd been thinking of FuFu when he'd decided to stick around this month for Hitoshi.

He couldn't imagine what it would've been like, to hear about the incident at the start of the week, days later and so far from home.

He'd snapped his pen just thinking about it and, even several washes later, he still had the faint ink stain to prove it.

So, in lue of reaching across the desk to deck the next complainer, Seiichi set out to Inoichi's later that afternoon. His baby wouldn't be home, despite how she'd insisted she wasn't going to Shisui's appointment.

He wasn't too impressed with either of the boys recently but Kiharu was loyal like that so he truly doubted she'd have managed to keep herself away. And, if she had? Hitoshi was heading back anyway. It had been a while since they'd last been out to see the new baby so Seiichi figured his partner would most like push for another visit tonight.

The Chuunin, on the other hand, was itching to do something much more productive.

"Evening, Sora," Seiichi grinned when the door was answered, bopping Ino-chan (perched on her kaa-san's hip) on her little button nose. "Is Inoichi in? I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Seiichi," The graceful woman smiled back, warm and tired. "He's just in, actually. Do you want to come in or should I send him out?"

The Dazai bit the corner of his lip for a split second. "Out, I think. Thanks again, Sora."

"Ino-chan," Sora turned to her daughter, crouching to set her on the floor and resting thin hands on her little shoulders. "Run and get your Tou-san for me please?"

With a precocious nod, the tint blonde scampered off and, when she'd disappeared round the corner, Sora turned back. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing like that," Seiichi dipped his head respectfully. "Just some work, is all."

Sora quirked a sharp, sculpted brow and her lips pursed but she didn't call Seiichi out and for that he was glad.

"Seiichi?" Inoichi called, coming down the hallway with Ino perched on his shoulders, chubby fingers steadily tangling in his hair and brushing curiously over the scar along his temple, where he still kept his hair shaved close. Kiharu had declared that undercuts were cool and, seeing Ensui-kun nod in agreement, Cool Dad Seiichi had been sold.

When he finally came to his senses, Seiichi was never letting him live this down. (It did look pretty dangerous, though, and really ramped up the T&I intimidation factor, he couldn't deny.)

"I wanted to talk about the case, if you have time?"

The Yamanaka's eyes immediately hardened in understanding, lowering Ino from her lofty position and, when she inevitably complained, dropping a kiss to her head. Sora took her back and then they were stepping onto the porch, bidding quick goodbyes to the women of the house.

The 'Compound' was pretty still, sun dragging low in the sky and no-one out on the sidewalk.

"What is it?" Inoichi inquired, hands clasped behind his back and expression professional. "Did you hear back from any of the lines you'd cast?"

Lips pursed, Seiichi jerked his chin and they descended the porch steps, moving off to the side and away from any unwitting ears.

Then again, in a ninja village, was anything ever truly private?

"I had a thought on the-" here, Seiichi dropped his voice discreetly, "-blackmailing front."

"Go on," Inoichi urged.

"Well, we tore his files apart. And his desk. But we didn't check his home Office."

"I did, actually, but he'd not been home for almost two months before he died. The house, except for the bathroom, bedroom and the kitchen, is almost stale. Natsuko isn't truly living, Seiichi, and it shows."

"I'd like to check, again. If that's alright."

Because Inoichi, for all his fervour, had also been deeply wounded by his brother's death and the subsequent mess unearthed. Seiichi didn't doubt his friend but...if the house was as bad as he feared, he wouldn't have lingered.

In his grief, he might have missed something.

The blonde stared at him for a moment, teal eyes openly scrutinising, and Seiichi just looked back.

"Okay, Seii. We can do."

Natsuko and Inokumo had lived a little out of the way from the rest of the Clan. Their house had been built further back from the street, with a front garden that almost matched the back in size. Seiichi could remember when they'd first moved in. Heck, he'd helped paint the kitchen. And his Hime had spent so many hours here as a kid.

Kami, how time flies.

The house still looked immaculate on the outside, even if the garden was both a little barren and a little wild, but that was just because Seiichi knew Sora liked to hire Genin to keep the 'Compound' looking the part a few times a year.

But the windows looked a little dusty and, nose forever sensitive, it all smelled...stale.

Kiharu-chan had told him about Ensui-kun's apartment the other day and the irony of them both finding themselves in these circumstances was not lost on him.

They drew to a stop at the base of the porch. "So, are we knocking or going round the back?"

Inoichi hesitated so slightly that, had he not known him better, Seiichi definitely would've missed it. "Knock, I should think."

And he proceeded to do just that.

Seiichi, abruptly aware that he'd wandered over straight from the desk, tugged on the ends of his jacket, running a hand through his hair and basically made sure he didn't look like a total mess.

He was struggling to remember the last time he'd actually seen Natsuko, let alone spoken to her. After that time she'd started screaming at Kiharu and Ino-chan, well…

It wasn't looking good.

The door latched and both men straightened, shoulders back and jaws tilted.

His composure was warranted because, without it, Seiichi was certain he would've reacted poorly.

Hair almost white and hands shockingly frail, a face aged beyond her years peered out at them. Her eyes, which had always been a friendly spring green, glared like watery marbles.

Internally, Seiichi was reeling.

He'd ran after Aki had died. He could admit that now. He'd run and run and almost thrown away everything else, even the daughter that his beautiful wife had left to him, for that grief. He'd been selfish and cowardly and self-destructive.

But, whilst he missed her so much every day it hurt, Seiichi was in a better place now. He'd learned to live in a world without Aki.

Natsuko had not learned to live in a world without Inoko.

She'd wallowed in her grief, embracing the pain until she found no energy to face each day. Until she was bedbound and couldn't distinguish dream from reality. She was borderline suicidal.

And it physically hurt to see her because she was everything Seiichi had almost been.

It was different, of course. Because Natsuko had carried Inoko-chan to term, had birthed her and given her life. Her womb, Inokumo had weepingly admitted on a drunken night out, had been badly scarred in labour and they'd never conceive again. Inoko had been their blessing.

"Inoichi. What?"

Neither of them winced at her bitter tone but...it was close.

"Can we come in, Natsuko-san? Seiichi needs something from the Office and I'd appreciate tea, if you have it."

From the steady (and rude) turn of his speech, Seiichi could only presume that Natsuko wasn't in the habit of entertaining guests.

(-she'd loved dinner parties a decade ago, inviting all their friends and settling the kids in the corner-)

She stared for almost two minutes (Seiichi counted) before finally stepping back.

Seiichi, undeniably spooked at this point, wasted no time.

Natsuko shuffled back from the door, making way for the duo to enter, and didn't even wait for the door to snap shut before she was off down the corridor again. Seiichi cast careful eyes to his friend and was greeted by an expected, but no less worrying, hard expression. Evidently, Inoichi was trying to put up a wall of professionalism to fend off the heartache.

Somehow, the Chuunin didn't think that was an effective coping mechanism at all. But who knows, maybe it was. He wasn't the mind specialist here.

Turquoise eyes met his, nodding to the left, towards Inokumo's old office space, and, with silent fingers, signed that he'd keep his sister-in-law busy.

Nodding along and gesturing for the blonde to follow her, Seiichi stifled a sigh. Mission style it was, then.

He trod carefully, even though Natsuko knew he needed 'an errand' in her late husband's rooms, but aware of creating too much of a disturbance regardless. It was almost like walking through an abandoned house or a tomb. Ghosts seemed to peek around every corner and the tracker was waylaid with old memories.

There was evidence of Sora trying to help, a rug here and silk flowers there and someone had, very thoughtfully, packed away some of the larger family photos. It wasn't an attempt to forget but Inokumo and Natsuko had always been incredibly proud of their little girl and these corridors had almost been murals of photographs. Days at the park, birthday parties, new years celebrations...all the kind of things that Seiichi and Aki had made books of, the other couple had enshrined on every wall.

It hadn't been melancholic until Kyuubi.

Inokumo's office door was tightly shut and the handle was freezing to the touch.

He'd prepared himself for anything; clouds of dust, stale air and even stale scent tracks.

So he was rightfully surprised when, cracking the door, the room looked relatively lived in.

And, with a huge, assessing breath, Seiichi understood why.

Kami but Inokumo must've come here a lot before he died. Regardless of his apparent absence from the house, he'd certainly been in here. The scents were cold and well faded, of course. But, unlike out there, where Hitoshi and himself had searched high and low through the elements for weeks on end, this room hadn't so much as cracked a window in that time. It was dizzyingly preserved.

The only disruption that the Chuunin could detect was Inoichi's, weaving a clear path around the room and brushing over every surface. Some people might've found it contaminated the entire scene but, after so many years, it was almost as easy to overlook as his own and Hitoshi's.

Right. Time to get cracking.

Inoichi, he could tell, had been just as thorough as promised and as expected. Every draw in the two bookcases that bracketed the door had been checked, revealing receipts and accountancy stuff and various papers. There was a collection of newspaper cuttings - a novel concept that most Shinobi didn't bother with because, honestly, were civilian tabloids really going to print something they weren't aware of? - and some old case files. They didn't look like anything from T&I and they couldn't have been from the police so, Seiichi decided with furrowed brows, Inokumo must've put them together...himself.

His old teammate had always been clever, picking at cold cases and even having solved a few when their girls had just been babies. Seiichi had always chalked it up to a restless mind and hobbies.

Lips pursed, he set the files to one side.

There wasn't much else left in the room, in all honesty. All of the Clan business, mainly budgeting, that Inokumo had done for his brother had been taken back to Inoichi's place already. And, because of the private contents, they'd been scoured extremely thoroughly. No doubt with Inokumo's own surprise debts playing in the back of his brother's mind.

The desk was a clean one, which honestly made for a bizarre sight. Kami knew Seiichi's own desk at home was a sight.

A random collection of clutter piled up on it, no matter how much he cleaned. Somehow, he was always finding Kiharu's earrings there, once even a cookie cutter, and some clothes pegs from who-knows-where.

Sharp ears suddenly caught the raising of voices, volume increasing from the dull murmur of conversation (which had been 80% Inoichi with low grumbles from his sister-in-law) to pitch just below shouting.

"-if he died then why bother?! He didn't love her as muc-"

Seiichi forcefully tuned them out, keeping tabs on their signatures so he could intervene if things went really bad but...this wasn't a conversation meant for his ears.

It was hard though and, try as he might to suddenly turn off his hearing altogether, a few words slipped through.

And when Natsuko accused Inoichi of not understanding the love for a child, Seiichi flinched. Fuck, well, he'd better speed this up.

Frantic eyes ran over the desk, feeling around the ornate underside for anything out of the ordinary. The top two shelves just contained stationary, empty filing wallets and calligraphy brushes and a small switchblade.

He flipped the knife open and ran it under his nostrils. Cleaned, and not recently, but a small dot of brown soaked into the wooden handle turned out to be blood. Inokumo's to be exact.

Seiichi stood back, rocking on his heels and frowning at the tiny, innocuous blade in his palm.

The brushes, the blade…

...sealing?

Fuck but since when did Inokumo know fuinjutsu? Yeah, he'd been smart and-

He'd run back up for Uzumaki Kushina plenty of times in the war. The famous Redhead would definitely have indulged Inokumo's famous curiosity.

"Oh fuck-"

How could they have been so blind? Inokumo had always been a disgustingly fast study, something Seiichi had resented him for as a Genin on a team with two much younger ninja. And he's always been fiddling with something.

He'd never seen him seal beyond his own storage and explosion tags but, honestly, Seiichi had never thought much of it. Most Shinobi with a basic grasp of fuinjutsu could do one in a pinch. Kami knew that Hitoshi could draw with a single, sharp claw.

The Chuunin turned fresh eyes to the rest of the room, keenly taking in every single corner for a hidden etching or - anything.

Then he started turning out the desk draws, piling them out on the floor and knocking for false bottoms, even going so far as to run every corner and seam under his nose for a give away. Just in case the seal was that good.

Then he thought about the knife, staring around the room with the cold realisation they needed a dead man's blood to know for sure.

Bracing one hand on the floor, Seiichi reach to rest a fist on the nearest wall. And quietly tapped his knuckles.

The shouting had lowered by this point and Seiichi could make out his friend's low murmur. Probably trying to offer some comfort or convince her, for the countless time, to find something new to live for.

Natsuko's silence was expected too.

And - there. There it was, a subtle tapping back, like a single knuckle knocking discreetly.

what - find

Seiichi bit his lip.

poss - seal - need - blood

He'd expected the other man to make his excuses and join him.

What he didn't expect was for a spike of chakra - yes, that was definitely a clone, he could tell this close, and more than one? - and the tingle of a switch before the expected blonde was coming in and latching the door beside him. A shadow clone stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

"What's with the clones?" Seiichi frowned. "Did Natsuko not want you to leave?"

"She's started crying," Inoichi corrected him and Seiichi immediately grimaced, pity clenching his gut. It was a terrible move, to leave someone hurting with a paltry clone for company, but they really did have a bigger issue here. Didn't make things less awful.

"Fuck, Okay. Right-" Seiichi hurriedly explained his findings, leaving the homemade files for now, and showed Inoichi both the knife and the now-empty draws.

"What are the chances of getting our hands on some blood?" The Chuunin asked dryly, mouth twisted as he gazed around the dusty room from his crouch on the floor.

"Good." Inoichi replied, nodding to his still-waiting clone when Seiichi blinked in surprise. Without any further prompting, the bunshin left.

"My wife has a sample of every Clan member's blood in the family safe. In case of emergencies."

"Right." Seiichi swallowed, trying not to find that a little intimidating. What would you need someone's blood for, anyway? A signature or...to frame them?

Somehow, he couldn't see Sora doing either, funnily enough.

Whilst they waited, Seiichi drew their attention to the files he'd met aside.

"Did you know he made these?" The brunette asked, splitting the pile in two and handing Inoichi the bottom half. There must've been thirty or so in total.

The blonde immediately started thumbing through them, joining Seiichi on the floor in a kneel. "No," he confessed, "but it does seem like him."

Whilst Inoichi cracked the first file, Seiichi paused to sniff them again, feeling rather like an Inuzuka hound on a drugs bust. They smelled just as he thought, like old paper and ink and Inokumo. Nothing suspicious there.

Without further ado, the Chuunin started digging.

And very quickly realised what they were actually looking at were criminal profiles. Some of them having been already apprehended by police, some of them...not.

"Did your brother become a vigilante when we weren't looking?"

"It's not possible," the other man looked just as bewildered. "Any kind of law enforcement would definitely have been noted on his file in the Tower. And do you really think Uchiha Fugaku wouldn't make a fuss if he thought the Yamanaka were undermining the Police Force?"

Urgh. "Touché."

A moment later, Inoichi breathed a faint noise of interest, flipping the page in his grasp so that the brunette could see the squat man on the photograph pinned to the top corner. "This is a mobster in Wave Country. Creating a lot of tension, rumoured to be something of a money launderer too. New but someone to keep our eyes on."

Seiichi accepted the file, squinting at the grainy photo, obviously taken whilst the short man had been moving. Certainly not a Shinobi photo. It smelled very faintly of tobacco and Inokumo had never smoked.

"What? So he's not only looking at mobsters in other nations but buying civie photos too?"

Inoichi sat back on his haunches. "He's in debt, and not in gambling. He's going out of his way to avoid using official channels and he's put together files on every established criminal from here to the mountains of Iron."

It was at that point that the Clan Head's bunshin returned, slipping in the door with silent steps and with a small vile cradled in his hands.

Seiichi swallowed. "What's the plan? Just chuck it everywhere and pray?"

The Dazai figured he could be forgiven for his tension. Inoichi certainly looked grey.

"I think we should start with the desk."

There was probably a good few tablespoons of blood in the vile but, understandably, both men were extremely reluctant to waste a single drop.

And they had to find a seal arrangement first.

Natsuko was speaking again, telling the clone about Inoko's fifth birthday party is though it was yesterday. It had been a proper little get-together and Aki had helped Kiharu-chan make the cake. Grief welled in his throat and Seiichi clamped down on it, blocking out the voices and shutting his eyes. Now wasn't the time.

Their searching fingers found nothing however.

Well, until Seiichi noticed something.

His desk at home was a mess of paperwork but certain things never really moved; the family photos and his pencil pot and a few books on the edge. And Kiharu, a blessing but still bizarre, was a bit of a clean freak. Something about idle hands and idle minds, she'd once muttered. Regardless, she dusted in there pretty regularly. But, despite that, there was always a ring of dust around the things that never moved.

Staring down at Inokumo's desk, the dust was completely even.

"Inoichi."

"Hmm?"

"Has this room been washed down?"

The blonde turned, hands pressed to the wall where he was feeling for any5ing under the paper. "No...why?"

"The desk…" Seiichi waved an expansive hand over the surface, the same faint coat of dust covering everything beside the finger marks they'd left. "It's like everything's-"

"-been moved."

They shared a glance. "You don't think-?"

"Let's clear it."

The papers were moved to the floor, in a neat pile beside those from the draws, and, when it was clear, Seiichi couldn't believe his eyes.

"I didn't think you could do that to a seal."

It was genius.

Now, most fuinjutsu was done on parchment with ink infused with chakra and either activated with chakra or with blood too.

In desperate times, Seiichi had seen them crafted completely from blood, fingers dipped in wounds and scrawled with desperation.

Seiichi wasn't an expert or even competent and neither was Inoichi. But, fuck, he didn't know you could paint over them.

Ink, scratched with what must've been the tiniest pen nib, traced a discreet design. No larger than the palm of Seiichi's hand, the design was washed in the same mahogany varnish of the desk itself, fading the seal into barely anything. Even to the Dazai's keen gaze.

Wordlessly, Inoichi dipped a finger in the vile, skin glinting crimson in the low afternoon light.

As cruel as it sounded, but they were lucky Inokumo was dead. If he hadn't been, the chakra would've still been live in the seal and they'd never have broken it by themselves.

Inoichi, his older brother, was close enough for it to work.

There was the click of a lock catching in the quiet room, broken only by the faint sounds of Natsuko, and then the table top shifted minutely to the side.

The two men shared a long glance before, as one, they grabbed the wood and heaved it aside.

Underneath the desktop was a hollowed space, filled with notebooks and scrolls.

Well. I guess this is what he was hiding after all.

Moving like he was trapped in some terrible dream, mind fogged, Seiichi reached for the largest scroll. Unravelling with numb fingers, the tracker found himself staring at a heavily annotated map.

There were lines and numbers, some scratched out so hard he'd pierced the paper.

What….what on earth was he doing?

"Seiichi."

Inoichi voice was thick, as if spoken in deep water and the brunette turned, poised as if for a blow. Kami but he was ready for everything after unearthing this shitshow.

"Seii...Seii, look."

The notebook was turned towards him, Inoichi's fingers pressed white into the binding the keep the pages spread. Inokumo's familiar scrawl greeted his eyes and it had been so long that Seiichi had to blink before the words themselves registered.

"You're telling me...that all of this-" the Chuunin cast an arm around the room, taking in the files and the maps and the secrecy. "Is some kind of desperate manhunt?! After all this bloody time?!"

"Seiichi." Inoichi glared, glancing pointedly to the door and, beyond that, towards Natsuko.

'-no leads in Southern Kumo. X searched through all warehouses, as requested, and none of the girls found matched the description-'

"This is insane." Seiichi snapped, tossing the diary down and twisting to face the windows.

He couldn't believe it. He fucking couldn't-

"Like it or not, we have to deal with the consequences of his actions."

"All this time, every time he came to us and we talked about things, and he said he was better. He promised me he was looking after Natsuko and he was handling it and I tried to be better too. It was a lie, Inoichi. What are you going to fucking tell Sora, hmm?"

Seiichi scrubbed his hands through his hand, grabbing the back of his neck.

"That he'd lost his mind long before anyone noticed? That it took a murder for us to see?"

"How do you think I feel, Seiichi?" Inoichi snapped, cold and furious.

"I was the one who declared Inoko dead! And my brother spends the last decade hunting her down from every lowlife from here to the bloody North Sea?!"

….

A/N- Happy Holidays! I hope everyone is having a lovely winter and has survived the final week as intact as possible! Ensui is like Student!Me haha but don't take him as a good role model here. Remember the Golden Eight rule! (8hrs sleep, 8hrs work, 8hrs play) Also, I may or may not have watched Criminal Minds and Strong Woman Bong Soon whilst wrapping Christmas presents whilst writing this! Oops? Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading 3