"Wake up, Sakura."
Yoshio stood over her with that slightly-too-practised smile of his. Sakura rubbed the sleep from her eyes before offering a smile in return.
"Must've dozed off again." There were papers covering the desk, and she wouldn't have been surprised if her face was now covered in ink from using them as a makeshift pillow. She organised them into a loose stack, skimming the top sheet for a clue what she had just been working on.
The writing blurred and warped. She blinked hard, shuffled to other pages, but it was still nonsense. She could distinguish her handwriting from Yoshio's, and that from printed text, but none of it was actually readable.
"This is a dream."
"More like a memory," Yoshio mused, leaning over her shoulder to look at the not-words. "Don't you remember?"
"Yes," she whispered, because even though this dream was similar to plenty of days she had spent in the last year, doing her research with Yoshio and the other deep-dreamers, there was only one memory as vivid as this. She could remember it right down to the positioning of the pieces on the shogi board in the corner. Yoshio's bishop was attempting to capture the rook standing between it and her king. "This is when you try to kill me."
That smile again. Since the day they had met, Sato Yoshio had been…well it was unfair and unkind to say, but weird. Sure, he looked like any other kid his age: brown hair, gangly frame, a couple of boyish freckles. He had been twelve when the war happened. A genin, fresh out of his nowhere-village's equivalent of an academy. But his mannerisms were all wrong: he smiled too widely, spoke too stiffly (unless he was talking to himself, which he did often), and when something funny happened, he laughed too late.
Sakura had chalked it up to the same trauma as herself and the others: an older man in a boy's body. Frankly, she had been so happy to have found a kindred spirit that she had overlooked everything else. When Tsunade and Shizune were ready to move on from the sleepy little town where they had found Yoshio and the handful of deep-dreamers he had collected around him, she decided to stay behind.
They had spent so much time comparing their notes about other patients that it was a while before Sakura found out the details of his own dream. Sato Yoshio had spent decades in a world of his own creation, and his 'paradise' was effectively a giant testing ground for new jutsu. Every living thing his mind had populated, be it human or animal, existed for the sake of his experiments. He'd downplayed the effects until Sakura pressed him, and even when cracks in his sanity began to show, she had still been arrogant enough to believe she could help him.
"I don't try to kill you right away," Dream-Yoshio reminded her. "We have a normal conversation at first." He moved to the opposite side of the table, drumming his fingers in time to a tune that only he could hear. "You talk about home. You're going to catch up to your friends and head back soon."
Sakura tried to stand, to prepare herself for what she knew was coming. Instead, she stayed sitting and smiling. The words came out of her mouth like a script. "That's right. I'm going to head out tomorrow."
"And you'll talk to your Yamanaka friend about using her clan jutsu as a form of therapy?"
"That's right. Got the notes here somewhere."
"And you'll see The Creator?"
"Yes, I'll see Obito. I'll see everyone."
"Sakura?"
"Hmm?"
Yoshio looked uncharacteristically troubled. "Why did you choose this world?"
She blinked, surprised by the sudden change of topic. "Because this world is real." This was a fact she no longer questioned, not seriously. She and Yoshio had briefly experimented with genjutsu, and it had long been established that they were both functionally immune. Even if Sakura had wanted to return to Sarada's world, her mind simply wouldn't have allowed it. Yoshio speculated that it was a natural result of their extended exposure, and had suggested they move on to testing other deep-dreamers. Sakura had quashed that idea immediately; even if she hadn't been concerned about the impact to their still-brittle mental health, she suspected Yoshio just wanted an excuse to test his own experimental genjutsu.
"Exactly!" Yoshio said. "I chose this world for the same reason. Because my work couldn't progress without other humans. Real ones, not those flimsy fabrications. When I woke up, I assumed I was the only one who saw The Creator's designs for what they were. Even the other deep-dreamers, they never actually figured out the lie." He smiled, and for the first time ever, it looked genuine. "And then I met you."
"Yoshio." Sakura tried to speak calmly but authoritatively, the way she might talk someone down from a window ledge. "What is this about?"
"Not only did you see the threads, the brushstrokes of the masterpiece, but you actually broke them!" His animated face suddenly went slack. "I thought you were like me."
"I am like you. We both got hurt by our dreams, and now we both need to manage that trauma so that we can keep living our new lives."
"No, no," he shook his head impatiently, like Sakura was being deliberately obtuse. "I thought God spoke to you like he did to me, that he'd shown us both the blueprint of Heaven so that we could recreate it on Earth."
Her mind returned to the cold waters of her dream death. The pair of swirling eyes, and the alien voice that had spoken to her just before she had broken free. Had that been Obito, or the genjutsu itself? It didn't matter, she decided. The dream had been a beautiful lie; not a blueprint, and certainly not a message from a higher power.
She was finally able to stand, fixing Yoshio with a serious expression. "Listen to me. The Infinite Tsukuyomi was nothing more than the product of two very powerful and troubled shinobi. Uchiha Madara was not a god; he was a man, and I watched him die like one. As for Uchiha Obito, I know him. I know he regrets what he helped create."
"I don't doubt it," Yoshio said. "The Creator was a pawn." He sidled over to the shogi board, lifting one of his side's pawns for emphasis. "Promoted, but still a mere conduit for the true power: the player." His fist closed over the piece, and let it fall to the ground.
"This isn't shogi, it's reality. Nobody else is pulling the strings here; it's just us."
"You're a fool," he told her quietly. "You can only see what's directly ahead of you, and yet you think you're the one in control of the board." He flicked her rook away. "You're blinded by love. Love for your friends…" her knights clattered to the floor. "And others." he pinned her king between two fingers, as if preparing to advance it.
"Enough!" She had forgotten that this was only a dream of a memory. The chance to stop him had already passed, and she had failed. "People aren't pieces in a game."
He raised the king, inspecting it with detached interest. "Not to you." And then he threw it at her.
She raised her hand automatically to bat it away; but he had swapped the piece for a shuriken, and it bit into her flesh, stealing her focus from Yoshio for a split second.
And in that split second, all hell broke loose.
"This is when I try to kill you, Haruno Sakura."
Sakura woke up with the ghosts of smoke in her lungs and knives in her back. Yoshio had poisoned the other deep-dreamers against her, and those who hadn't been convinced had been converted by force. She had barely gotten away with her life, much less any of her written research. She'd rigged the building with explosive tags the very same day she'd decided to stay instead of leaving with Tsunade, failsafes against the research falling into the 'wrong hands'; and when those hands were busy wrapping themselves around her throat, she triggered the seals.
After that, she had learned firsthand just how far-reaching Yoshio's new jutsu could be. He'd spoken of his puppetry and genjutsu like they were two separate things, when in fact they were intrinsically connected. Those being controlled pursued her far further than any string could reach, and Sakura realised that when the range of Yoshio's direct puppetry waned, genjutsu could keep them programmed to act in certain ways.
It had taken her more than a week before she lost them, during which time she barely slept more than the bare minimum to prevent organ failure. By the time she had found Tsunade and the others, she was almost as weak and paranoid as she had been during the period after the war.
She sat up in bed, coughing up her memories. The movement made her head throb, which helped to bring her back to the present. It seemed she was alone in Ino's room: the other side of the bed was cold, and this room didn't have fancy blackout curtains, so she could tell it was already sunny outside. Was she running late yet again?
She threw back the blankets, preparing for another frantic scramble (this time with the additional handicap of a healing concussion, stab wound and dislocated shoulder). Something crinkled underfoot, and she bent down to pick up a piece of paper folded around an envelope. They must have fallen off the bed when she woke in a panic.
The loose paper was in Ino's handwriting.
Forehead,
Trying not to wake you per the orders from your boss, but Choji is freaking out about the exam(?) so I'm heading out early. If the Hokage asks, I was with you all morning.
Don't die in your sleep or do anything stupid until I get back.
-Ino
The envelope had no name on the front, but Sakura could put two and two together. She tore it open.
Sakura,
I decided that if you're still asleep when I stop by this morning, I'll leave this note instructing you to take the day off. I'll also be telling Ino to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't do anything stupid (like force yourself to attend this morning's boring meetings, or help me with my equally-boring paperwork). Everything is fine - I promise I will actually do my job without you checking up on me.
I'll stop by later with some lunch. If you don't rest until then, I'll have you arrested for disobeying a direct order from your Hokage.
-K
She snorted, and the grip of fear around her heart loosened slightly. Today was the last day before the final rounds of the chunin exam, so the Kages' agendas were fairly light. And Kakashi wouldn't have promised to behave if he didn't mean it.
But how to relax? All she really wanted to do was talk to someone about her dream, like she used to do when she was recovering from the Infinite Tsukuyomi. To confirm that she was present and whole, and the world was still turning as normal. To have someone tell her that it was only a dream, after all; and dreams can't hurt you.
She'd have to settle for a cold shower followed by a warm bath. Summer in Suna was horrifically hot (most outside activity ceased around midday for this reason), but the heat of the water would help her various aches and pains.
The wound on her side was already closed over thanks to her healing. The internal damage would take a bit longer, but skin was easy to fix, and came with the added benefit of minimising infection and scarring. She would have no issues with a nice long soak.
She scrubbed the last bit of sleep and last night's blood off herself first, letting the cool shower water soothe the egg-sized bump on the back of her head. Then she lowered herself into the hot bath, forcing herself not to hop out immediately like a frog with a boiling pot. Her body eventually adjusted to the temperature, and the knots in her muscles gradually came loose like a timeline in reverse: head injury, stab wound, dislocated shoulder, sleeping on the road during the journey here, the fight and explosion a few days into that same journey, her ANBU induction prior to taking up the alias of Tanuki. Her return to Konoha, burdened with the knowledge that she had helped to create a monster.
She hadn't realised how much stress she was carrying, and how much she longed to put some of it down.
Kakashi…
When the chunin exam was over and Yoshio was caught, she would give him any part of her that he wanted. Her right hand, her teeth, her eyes and ears; as long as he was Hokage, they were his by rights, of course. But if she had been willing to abandon Konoha and become a missing-nin out of her girlish, misplaced affection for Sasuke, she could do that and more for Kakashi, if he ever asked her to. When her heart was finally whole, she would hand it over with a smile and expect nothing more in return than the love he had already given her.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you, too.
Kakashi sneezed, lowering his mask just in time to avoid a mess. He rubbed his watering eyes with his sleeve, wondering if the empty office he had asked to use for the day was dustier than it looked.
He was holed up in here because the morning's events had finished early, and nothing was formally scheduled until the chunin exam fights in the late afternoon (once the sun was no longer stupidly hot). More specifically, he had hidden himself away in a random office to do his work because if he didn't keep himself busy, he would be too tempted to go back and check on Sakura. And if Sakura woke up and disobeyed his orders to relax until lunch, he didn't want to make it too easy for her to find him. She needed rest, and he was in a decidedly restless mood.
Contrary to popular belief, Kakashi was no playboy. He had never had a long-term relationship before (let alone with someone he was head-over-heels, stupid-grin-on-his-face-during-meetings in love with). He felt like a dog whose food bag had knocked over and spilled everywhere. His tiny bowl was now overflowing, and he wanted to eat himself sick.
All the things he had to look forward to with Sakura swirled around his brain, infecting him with dangerous emotions like 'desire' and 'optimism'. He was ruined as a weapon, now. He had no interest in travelling far from home, risking his life and eroding his soul a little bit each time. He wanted to go home, buy a house, plant a garden, cook dinner, and sleep with Sakura every night, for the rest of their lives.
Someone knocked on the door, and he wondered if just thinking about Sakura had somehow summoned her to his secret hideout. But it was Ino who entered, and optimism became anxiety in a heartbeat.
"Is Sakura okay?" he blurted out before he could think of a smoother way to ask.
Ino cocked her head minutely, as if she hadn't understood his question. But then she smiled, nodding. "Yes, she's fine. Still asleep."
"Oh. Good." He had jumped to his feet in his panic, and was now hovering awkwardly at his desk. "Is there something you needed from me…?"
Her smile widened. "Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you."
His relief was short-lived, as he suspected he knew what Ino wanted to say, but it was a conversation he had zero experience with. He sighed. "How much do you know?"
Again, the tiny twist of the head, like his questions required deep contemplation. He didn't think Sakura had successfully hidden her new relationship from her best friend, but perhaps this really was about something else entirely?
"Sakura is in love with you," Ino finally declared, head straightening, "and it seems you have both acted upon your feelings. How interesting." She uttered the last part like it was an aside, and not meant to be overheard.
"Is this going to be one of those 'break her heart and I'll break your nose' type talks?" He scratched his masked chin. "Because I've got a lot of work to get through before lunch..."
"Don't worry, it's not a long talk. I actually just wanted to show you something."
"Oh?"
She nodded toward a point over his shoulder. "Look out the window."
"Okay…?" Confused, but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, he turned obediently to look out the window. He could see down into the streets (emptying fast, as the sun was getting higher in the sky), the buildings, and the desert beyond that. It all looked completely normal.
"Is this the part where you push me out, or someth-"
Kakashi fell through the floor.
"Mind-swap jutsu: success."
He dimly registered the words, and the fact that they were spoken in his voice; but the sound came from far away, like a radio playing in another room. He turned to look at Ino, and the sight also felt weirdly distant and disconnected. His eyes were seeing one thing, but his mind was processing something entirely different.
It was dark, for one thing. Pitch black, even with the weird feeling of his brightly-lit office overlaid in his vision like a projection on a screen. His body (or, more accurately, his mind's perception of his body?) seemed to be gone, leaving only his consciousness. And it wasn't alone.
There was Ino, standing in front of him in the office; but she was also here, in what Kakashi knew to be his own mind.
'Inside'-Ino stood confidently, raising her hand to her eyes. Kakashi's own hand swam into vision at the same time.
He was familiar with the Yamanaka clan's mind-swap jutsu, of course, so he knew what was currently happening to him. What he didn't understand was why the 'Outside'-Ino didn't collapse to the floor while her consciousness inhabited Kakashi's body. Instead, she made a beckoning gesture.
"Let's go. The border guards are on our side, but tell anyone else who stops us that we're just going for a walk."
'He' nodded, and followed after Outside-Ino as she led him downstairs and out onto the quiet street. They walked in silence, Inside-Ino taking steps in place that matched Outside-Kakashi's steps perfectly.
The real Kakashi couldn't bear it for long. He had no mouth with which to speak, but forced himself to believe it was possible anyway. The first 'sound' he was able to make was little more than a garbled exclamation, but Ino's head twitched as though she had heard it.
"Quiet, you."
Outside-Kakashi didn't seem to repeat the words, so Ino must have been able to control both her consciousness and Kakashi's body as separate entities when necessary.
Whyareyoudoingthis? he ground out, and Ino's glare was icy.
"Why?" The hatred radiated off her in coils, chilling him even without skin. "Because you killed my father, you evil bastard."
No…? He honestly wasn't sure what to say to that. There was too much about this that he didn't understand, and too little time to piece it all together before 'he' ended up wherever the enemy was taking him. Yourfatherdiedinthewar.
"Because you killed him."
WhodoyouthinkIam?
"My enemy," she said simply.
Notenemy, he insisted. He wanted to shout it, but it was impossible to change the volume of your thoughts. KakashiKakashiKakashi.
She laughed, a hollow sound. "You're telling me you're the Hokage?"
Yes. Genjutsu. That was the only explanation for Ino's behaviour, even though it still didn't explain how someone else was in her actual body. You'rebeingtricked.
"He told me you'd say that."
Who?
She nodded to the side, to the place where (outside the confines of Kakashi's mind), Ino's body was leading them. "Him."
Whoishe?
"The real Hokage."
In the outside world, they were leaving the edges of town and crossing the flat plains to the fighting pit he had visited the night before. He could almost feel the sun baking his exposed skin. If he wasn't in control of his own body once they reached their destination, he might never have control again. Sakura's words from the trip to Suna came back to him.
"Once he gets his hooks into someone, they're his to control indefinitely. He can control several people at once, and over long distances too; though he needs to physically touch them when first casting the jutsu."
ListenIno. He was starting to get the hang of communication, though he still had no way to move. He wished he'd asked Sakura more questions after her chunin exam fight all those years ago. Listentome. There'samannamedSatoYoshio. Hehasajutsu. Useditonyou. He'scontrollingyoubutyoucanfightit. YoucanfightthisIno. Pleasefight.
Shadow Puppetry was the only explanation for how someone was able to keep controlling Ino's body, whilst still keeping her consciousness pliant and obedient. Yoshio must have gotten to her at some point; which meant he might have gotten to Sakura, too.
IsSakuraokay? he asked, for the second time since the fateful knock on his door. Didhegethertoo?"
But Ino didn't reply. They had reached the fighting pit, and both bodies leapt over the edge and out of sight of distant Suna. Kakashi wasn't sure if all of his ANBU guards had been disabled or turned, but he doubted they were about to arrive and rescue him at the last moment.
There were others in the pit, including shinobi he knew (Chouji and his genin team, Bear, Turtle) and many more that he didn't; one of which, presumably, was Sato Yoshio. They grabbed his arms and held him down. He tried to fight, to thrash, but he was still nothing more than a disembodied consciousness watching his life through a screen.
Something sharp dug into his back, sending a pulse like a live wire throughout his entire body.
Her job done, Ino's consciousness fled back to her own body. Awareness returned to his senses, the screen becoming true sight once more; but he still wasn't able to move. If Ino's mind-swap jutsu was possession, a tamping-down of his consciousness by another, then this was simply paralysis.
Puppetry…
He wondered why his thoughts were still his own; according to Sakura's report, genjutsu was an intrinsic part of the jutsu. But as he turned and began walking doggedly back the way he had come (the chakra dampeners on the pit walls weren't activated, and his own chakra was being moulded against his will) he realised it wasn't necessary. Ino needed the genjutsu to keep her mind obedient even when it was detached from her puppet body during mind-swap (and Sakura had mentioned a similar thing occurring over longer distances). There was no need to dupe Kakashi in that way. He could remain completely aware, yet completely helpless, as the puppet-master made his body commit atrocities.
Ino joined him on the walk back. Did she still think she was helping, rather than dooming, her Hokage? Or was the full horror of her actions revealed once she returned to Yoshio's direct physical control? Kakashi didn't blame her in the least, but again he wished he had paid more attention to Sakura's uncanny ability to throw off the Yamanaka bloodline limit.
The border guards didn't stop them, only started with glassy eyes as they passed. Was there anyone in the entire village who wasn't a puppet? Kakashi couldn't help but be a little impressed at the puppeteer's multitasking abilities. Most shinobi struggled with more than a handful of puppets at a time, though there were geniuses in every generation.
Ino branched off and disappeared from his peripheral vision, leaving him completely alone on the now-empty streets. Where would Yoshio take him first? Would he seek out the other Kages and lure them away? Would they suspect something was wrong if he did? Would he be forced to attack them directly? They might suspect the truth of the matter, but nobody else would, and none would hesitate to put him down if they thought their commanders were in danger.
It would mean another war.
The VIP tower loomed large in his vision, and he tried desperately to twitch even the smallest muscle.
His steps veered away, and for a moment he thought he'd managed to make an impact; but then he realised they were heading for a different building entirely. One that was familiar.
No!
His traitor body stepped through the familiar entrance (stop!), climbing the familiar steps (please!) until he reached a familiar door (anything else. Anyone else).
And knocked.
