"I got bored," Ibiki began, he fidgeted slightly, pulling at his shirt as the adults (or, in Kakashi's case, legal adults) around him kept their faces blank. "And so… I started to… I stayed in sight! At first. And then Shin got really busy, and distracted, and stuff, and…"

"You left his sight," Sakura said. They'd initially intended to rotate care of Ibiki while they were there, but she supposed he'd have to get used to money-talk; if he was willing to wander off even knowing the danger then her sense would have to be constantly employed to watch her charge.

"Um, yeah."

"We'll talk about that later," Shin interrupted when Juro went to speak himself. "Continue, Ibiki."

"Okay, alright, so I left, and I started, um, looking around, and—I met some other kids. So I decided to play with them—you're the ones who always said I should play with other kids!"

"Ibiki, continue."

Ibiki huffed, apparently deciding he'd had enough of the interrogation. "They said they had to give up some of their blood to the Kumo ninja who came a few years ago, and so did all their parents—everyone who wanted to be able to go to Kumo, basically. The ones who were born after even had to give up some of their blood. They were told that it was for medical research, but I thought it was weird. So I told Shin. Also I won the kickball game."

"It's good that you told Shin," Juro said, ignoring the last comment. "But you still shouldn't have snuck off. Go to bed; we'll talk about your punishment tomorrow."

"But I helped!"

"Go, now."

Ibiki left.

The adults stood, staring at each other as they tried to consider what they'd just been told.

"Did he help?" Kakashi asked.

"Maybe?" Juro said.

"I believe that some reports already mentioned something several years ago, but not that infants were continuing to submit their blood," Sensei said.

"I have a summons; I'll send one to the Hokage with what we know."

"Alright."

Several minutes later a toad containing a concise account of their current intelligence was on its way to their Village leader.

In the meantime—

Well, work was never done.

Two days later they went public with their changes.

Beginning with a promise of no taxes of any kind for two years was definitely a good idea.

Continuing with a promised quantity of rice for anyone willing to 'register' with Konoha—if Frost's citizens were willing to give away their blood who were they to argue—was equally well taken.

The announcement that Konoha was making such huge changes to the government's structure, then, was barely glanced at, with the majority of residents—Samurai and Shinobi included—far too distracted by the idea of full stomachs.

Four weeks later the Konoha contingent left Frost in far better shape than when they'd arrived.

It still wasn't good—the Daimyo had an increasingly obvious gambling addiction, the ministers were all severely underqualified, the land wasn't even close to supporting itself, and their military was laughable—but it was better, and likely good enough to at least remain in power to the end of the war, and really, that was what was most important.

(To Konoha.)

The trip back was shaping up to be equally boring as the trip there.

Sakura yawned as they passed back into Fire proper. "I'm glad we're in Fire again, but it'll be good to go home. I hate having to keep watch—not that your presence hasn't been great, Minato."

Minato snorted.

"Any chance Kakashi's in training to sense?"

That made the boy frown—he really was far too expressive.

"He can, but his range… leaves a lot to be desired. We'll keep training it up, but at best he can tell how many people are in a room."

Kakashi growled. "My Dad's going to give me the hounds' summoning contract! I don't need to sense myself!"

"Fair enough," Sakura said. She shot a glance at Minato, who shrugged helplessly. Kakashi's bad mood had only gotten worse throughout their month in Frost, the boy increasingly bored by the daily regimen of paperwork and politics.

He clearly understood most of what was discussed around him, was the thing, but he also couldn't even begin to see how it would be relevant to his chosen career path—which was, in two words, maximum damage—so…

Sakura never liked snobs, but she remembered being young. Ibiki was five, now, too, and children… sometimes they thought of others. Mostly they thought of themselves. Always, without fail, they thought of what they wanted to do, and how to reach that goal as expediently as possible.

She'd preferred it when everyone had expected her to act out on occasion, too; life had been far easier.

She'd just turned to Ibiki how he was doing—the boy was still snitty about being kept on a virtual leash throughout their trip, but being back on the road had picked his mood up significantly—when Minato stiffened.

Sakura's sense lashed out, but she didn't sense anything. She hesitated, moving to grab a seal—no point hiding her talent now, not when she was already in the BINGO book for it—when Minato flashed a sign, Konoha, and she relaxed.

Mostly.

The others followed her example, Sensei grabbing Ibiki from Juro and shoving him inside a wagon while Kakashi jumped off his wagon, dropping the reins directly against orders.

Sakura hesitated, then went to grab the horses; she was the least militaristically capable of the others, and her seals could be used while still handling the reins.

And then the ninja appeared.

There were—

She didn't count them individually, didn't identify them one by one. She just saw them as one group of five, as a mass of ANBU that arrived as quickly as any ninja ever could.

Some were short, almost as short as Kakashi; another was taller than even Sensei.

They zeroed in on Kakashi quickly, so quickly, then turned to Minato.

In the past weeks their updates from Konoha had been irregular; she'd gotten a note that her future sister-in-law Yumi was pregnant a week before, and Sensei had received a message of one of his aunt's deaths four days in, but mostly they'd been in the dark, only given information immediately relevant or personal.

The last message they'd sent in return—their final report until they came home—had notified the Hokage of their findings and their return home. They had gotten an 'acknowledged' letter back that morning, a letter likely only sent because it also included a packet of instructions for Shin, who was supposed to split off and head straight to the Capital.

Whatever happened, had happened recently.

Whatever happened, had been important enough that immediate notification was necessary.

The ANBU—five of them—finished talking to Minato, turned to Kakashi.

Sakura didn't hear the words spoken, but she saw the reaction to them, the visible visceral response. The boy, the child, so young—the genin dropped to the ground, fell onto the soil and roots and dirt-packed road, and sobbed.

And sobbed.

The ANBU gave him a second, a second while Minato talked to Sensei, updated the orders, and then he, and Minato, and the ANBU were gone.

By the time the remainder of their group arrived in Konoha Shin and Sensei were gone too—the former to the Capital and the latter straight to the Hokage, ahead of the wagons while Juro, Sakura, and Ibiki rounded the rear.

Ibiki was dropped off at the Academy, the horses had been ceded over to the genin outside the gate, and the documents were recovered from a few administration chuunin.

Juro and Sakura progressed to the Hospital.

It didn't take long to find Minato and Kakashi. Juro might not work in the unit, anymore, and Sakura rarely visited, but every veteran shinobi knew their way around the Returning Shinobi Ward.

Kakashi's father… well, he was still recognizable. Sakura was kind of surprised about that, given the condition of the rest of the body. She'd known about Hatake Sakumo before, had heard about his various deeds and power, but they'd never run in the same circles; with his hounds he was functionally a sensor alongside all his other skills, and so he rarely if ever got another sensor in his group. He was also active, and very powerful; he had no reason to dedicate time to Research, and apparently no interest either.

Still, she'd heard he was nice.

Shinobi fought for the right to join his team.

He'd carried teammates off of battlefields on his own shoulders when he was chakra exhausted, remembered everyone's names, visited those shinobi he worked beside even years after they'd been forced into retirement.

The older generation thought he was too nice, that Konoha shinobi should be tougher, should be ready to do what had to be done.

This was only worsened by rumors that he let younger enemies go, that he only wanted to kill people after they had a chance to fight back…

His reputation was a dichotomy of power and kindness, and that wasn't necessarily the best reputation to have inside Konoha despite the village outwardly projecting just that image to the rest of the world.

Now, however…

Sensei said his lungs wouldn't last the week. They could only last that long thanks to constant chakra therapies, an incredible amount of effort and chakra devoted to keeping his body alive just a little bit longer.

But the lungs were too badly damaged, the injuries too great.

They were only helping him to try to give him a chance to wake up one more time, see his son once before his heart stopped for the last time.

Kakashi's eyes were red, his body trembling from emotions and sleeplessness. Minato, stood behind his charge, didn't look much better.

Water had joined the war, and they had done so with a bang.

Sakura had been the one to suggest a guard post on Uzu.

She'd been the one—

They'd implemented it immediately. They'd given the post a series of missions: protect Uzu, monitor movements along the water, continue exploration, and monitor Water.

The last had been a kind of a joke; why would Water go all the way south before going west when they could just go straight west, hit Fire with no issue?

Because Uzu wouldn't be as expected, that's why.

Phosgene gas…

It was used in dye manufacturing, apparently.

There was a rather large dying industry in Water.

It was toxic, that much was already known, but.

With so many other ways to kill people—chakra, and seals, and weapons, and projectiles, and on, and on…

Why did another one have to be created?

Phosgene gas.

The attack happened at night.

There were sensors; there were always sensors. Maybe Hatake's hounds were out, too, keeping watch themselves.

But the gas was pushed in from far offshore, according to reports.

Shinobi in gas masks, according to the few survivors, who had used mild wind jutsus to push the gas in, in, in.

It didn't have a strong odor, the other doctors explained to Juro and Sakura as they shuffled out of the room, downstairs to where the larger cluster of wounded shinobi and medical workers were murmuring over the newest arrivals.

They'd realized the danger too late.

Some of the reports, twisted as they were through however many mouths and ears before they arrived at Sakura's, were contradictory: they might not have known about the danger at all, might have noticed the ships and expected a physical attack.

Either way, the results spoke for themselves.

Uzu was empty once more, would continue to be until Fire and Konoha specifically figured out a cheaper way to protect against gas attacks.

Kiri had decided to join the war, and they'd made quite an entrance.

Most wind-users—Minato a key exception—were already on Fire's south and eastern borders, looking out to sea and protecting against any similar attack on the mainland.

Messengers had been sent to Suna; with Iwa still stuttering under their new leadership their allies could likely spare a few strong ninjas to protect Fire's borders too, and right now they needed it.

The war had been going well.

Kumo was on the backfoot, Suna was almost single-handedly keeping back Iwa—

They hadn't even had to call in the Samurai yet, could keep their internal law enforcement working at full strength—

And now.

Kiri hadn't joined the last war.

No one really knew why, particularly after the rumors of them killing Iwa's Kage.

But they'd stayed their hand, be it due to internal strife or the far too murky strengths of each side or hidden deals or any of a dozen other reasons.

Whatever that reason was, it had clearly dried up.

.

The next day everyone was back at work, and Ibiki was back in school, already bragging blithely about his role in the diplomatic mission.

Juro checked into the Hospital just before dawn, checked in with his patients—those who lived in the hospital had missed him, and all had continued their therapies without issue—then got to work.

At lunch, he decided to check in on Jounin Minato and Kakashi again.

The elder of the two he found first, slurping down ramen just outside the room.

"How's it going?"

"Kakashi's father still hasn't woken up. I—I've been ordered to Chigiri Sea, with or without Kakashi."

Juro made a face.

"Yeah."

"Do you—"

"Could you—"

Both paused.

"You go first." Juro said at last.

"I've been pushing for Kakashi to get a team, and was just told I'd get another two genin at the end of the month. I'm leaving this evening, leading a countercharge, and I'll be back then to meet them. Could you… keep an eye on Kakashi in the interim? Please? I hate that—these aren't orders I can disobey, but I can't just leave him." Minato's face, still with the edges of baby fat, shone with the knowledge of what he had to do. His body, despite the wall and door between them, was still turned towards his charge. Juro was sure the only reason the teen was outside at all was to try to figure out how to explain.

"Of course." Juro grinned. It wasn't a very happy expression, just an understanding one. "I've had practice before."

Minato rubbed his eyes. "Kakashi… he's young. And brash. And he feels with his whole heart. I just don't want him to be hurt any more than necessary." He jolted, turned to find Juro's hand on his shoulder.

"You care. It's obvious. Kakashi knows that. Have you told him you're leaving yet?"

"No, no, not yet."

"Tell him. Tell him I'll be keeping an eye on him, and that you'll be back as soon as possible. Has he been sleeping?"

"No."

"I'll get him a cot. I doubt he'd be willing to leave his father's side, but maybe if he can lie down he'll be able to catch a few hours of rest."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, yeah." Minato said. Under his breath, he began to mutter all the other things he had to do: "talk to Hokage, message to Jiraiya, Kushina, need to pack…"

Juro found Kakashi asleep on the cot an hour later, his small hand clasping his father's tightly. His eyes were so swollen they nearly bulged, his face was streaked with tears, and his knuckles were scuffed—he'd punched the wall.

Juro did his paperwork in the Hatakes' room instead of at his desk, watched as his colleagues performed their bi-hourly ritual to keep Hatake Sakumo's lungs alive.

He sent a message to Sakura; she sent one back—Ibiki was staying over at Asuma's tonight anyway, so it didn't matter if he was home late.

Kakashi awoke sometime after midnight, snapping awake with the sort of sudden fear of remembering that he needed to be conscious, needed to be aware, needed to be on alert.

"I'll tell you when he wakes." Juro said.

The boy's eyes snapped to him.

He held the eye contact calmly.

"…Minato's gone?"

"Yes."

"For a month. And then I'll have teammates."

"Two of them."

"You'll tell me immediately?"

"I'll wake you the very second there's a sign. There's a bottle of water to your right, and some soup. Try to stomach some of it before you lie back down."

Kakashi's lips trembled, then he turned to the proffered sustenance.

He fell back asleep some minutes later, an entirely unintentional act, but Juro stayed awake.

He could last three, four days without sleep.

He'd have someone else in the room when he wasn't, but the boy would never be alone.

Would never have to keep watch himself.

.

Six days after Hatake Sakumo arrived his hands shook, his heart raced, and as the iryo-nin around him continued their work, forced his lungs to continue to respirate, he turned to his son.

He was awake, in total, for just under ten minutes.

Made sure Kakashi knew he was loved.

Made sure he knew about the will, updated only a few months before; it had the information the boy would need about, among other things, his hound summons and their property.

And then he was gone.

His heart stopped two hours later.

There was nothing anyone could do, not by then.

Kakashi sobbed over his father's body until it was taken away, sobbed in the room until Juro picked him up, took him home.

Ibiki, Sakura, Himari, and Kohana talked quietly, didn't try to force Kakashi into conversation over dinner.

The boy didn't eat anything.

He slept in Shin's bed—why not? —and tried to sneak out the next morning. Juro stopped him.

He wasn't Minato's first choice, Juro knew. They didn't know each other enough for that. Doubtless all of Minato's first choices were on the battlefield, fighting for hours every day.

But he would be damned if he didn't make sure the boy got the care he needed, no matter how much he wanted to disappear and lock himself up and wallow alone, without anyone to share his grief.

He would live with them until Minato came back, like it or not.

Kakashi started to wear a mask two days after his father's death.