Sure, Naruto wasn't feeling great, but she tried never to let that get in the way of having a good day or doing her best. She hadn't complained on Tuesday, when she'd first started feeling a little off, or yesterday, when the occasional cramps started gripping her for a few minutes at a time. So she wasn't going to complain today, either. She was going to grin and move around according to her slightest whims and bother Sasuke, because she didn't have time for her stupid period, and she refused to give it any. Even if her cramps were making her so nauseous that every fifteen minutes or so, she had to pause to breathe deep and control it. (She was vaguely aware that maybe she should see a doctor about her cramps, maybe change her birth control, but after her last experience and with a clean bill of health, she intended to delay for as long as possible.)

"Bet I can pick more weeds than you in ten minutes," Naruto bet, ramming her shoulder into Sasuke's with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Her teammate puffed out an irritated breath on the collision, rolling his eyes at her even as he slung a rough arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a half-hearted headlock.

"You're dreaming, dobe. I'll pull twice as many as you, and do a better job."

"You're both still idiots," Sakura told them fondly as Sasuke shoved her away, but Naruto ignored her, already bounding up to her sensei to tug on his sleeve.

The silver-haired jōnin tilted his head down to look at her, expressionless to the untrained eye, but she knew what to look for. The tiniest scrunch at the corner of his exposed eye told her he was amused by their antics. "Hey, hey, Kaka-sensei! Will you time us?"

His voice was an impassive as it usually was when they were outside the apartment, deep and rumbling and expressionless. "Maa, sure. As long as you don't trample or pull up the crops, like you did last time."

"How was I supposed to know what carrots look like when they're all small like that?" Naruto scoffed, rolling her eyes.

The older man hummed, and cuffed her gently over the head rather than answer her, turning his attention instead to granny Ōta, the crotchety old woman who'd hired them to build her new raised garden bed in her front yard the week previous. She'd called them back to weed her main garden in the back. Which honestly was sort of nice, since their team didn't tend to get a lot of repeat calls because of Naruto's presence on it. Nobody ever said as much, but she could tell that's why it happened. "Good morning, Ōta-san," sensei called to the old woman sitting on her front porch. "Good to see you."

She raised a hand in greeting, but didn't smile. "Around back, Shi-chan. Have you been eating well?"

They'd had a similar conversation last time, and her sensei had explained when they got home that he'd grown up down the street, and she'd known him as a toddler. "Maa, yes, Ōta-san, thank you for asking. How are your grandchildren?"

"Numerous and loud," she answered, sounding irritated, but the corner of her mouth lifted up.

Sensei hummed, clearly amused, though Naruto wasn't sure if the old woman could tell. "Aren't they always?" he asked rhetorically, before continuing in a dismissive tone, "We'll be out back if you need anything."

"Tell the small, loud one to be careful with my tomato plants."

"I'm right here," Naruto protested, pouting, but Kakashi sensei didn't miss a beat as he turned to her.

"Be careful with Ōta-san's tomato plants," he echoed obediently.

She huffed, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him towards the gate. "C'mon, sensei, don't be mean. You gotta come time me and Sasuke. I'm gonna win!"

The morning progressed relatively pleasantly, even if Naruto was still occasionally needing to pause and breathe through a particularly rough set of cramps. Sasuke was definitely going faster than her, and had beaten her in their little challenge, but the fact that he was fixated on his work meant that he didn't notice that Naruto was pale and feeling unwell, which was just as likely to draw mockery as being slow. Sakura seemed to notice, though, and offered her cold water from her canteen from time to time. Still, though, her bucket was filling with weeds rapidly, and she enjoyed getting her hands dirty.

She wouldn't have noticed Pakkun's sudden arrival if he hadn't popped into existence in her line of sight. She'd been knelt next to the garden bed on the far side, facing where her sensei was sitting with his back against the tree, one long leg stretched out and the other pulled up to balance his book against. Even though the presence of the man's summons was unusual, however, she wouldn't have paid it much mind, focused instead on digging up the roots of the clover she was pulling, if she hadn't happened to notice the way his body went rigid all over. He snapped his book shut and gestured Pakkun to himself, body language tense and urgent as he accepted a scroll from the dog's mouth and ripped it open.

Naruto had an awful feeling. So much so that she couldn't make herself get back to work. She felt frozen, even as Sasuke noticed that she'd stilled and called out that she was falling behind. Her sensei's single grey eye snapped up to hers, deadly serious, and she shrank back, certain she didn't want to hear whatever news he'd just gotten. She had no idea what it could be, but she could feel it in her joints that it was bad. The man made to stand, never taking his eye off her, and suddenly she couldn't stand it, dropping her gaze to her hands as she buried them in the cool, moist soil she'd been working in. She refused to look up or move as footsteps approached her, pretending fiercely that she didn't exist even as his gaze rested on her so heavily she didn't have to see it to perceive it.

"Naruto." Her shoulders hunched, unintentionally acknowledging that she'd heard, but dread, anxiety, and nausea rendered her silent. The man sank into a crouch next to her, and his voice came out as soft as he ever let it when they had an audience. "They found someone who had pictures of you."

Flinching badly, Naruto fell back onto her butt, barely reining in the urge to scramble away from the conversation that had just been initiated. She tried and failed to make eye contact, staring at the man's chin as she asked blankly, "You—what?" She could hear that her teammates had fallen still as well, but couldn't bring herself to look at them.

Her sensei was still tense, but as he spoke, she realized he was excited, and wasn't that strange? She had no idea what to make of it. "Do you know what the punishment is, for possessing photographs like that in the Leaf?" Eyes flickering to his for a fraction of a second, she read the bloodlust there, and jerked her gaze to the grass between them. Slowly, she shook her head. "Two fingers off the dominant hand, for the first offense. It marks them so that everyone who sees their hands knows what they've done."

Nausea roiled in Naruto's gut, and her eyes burned. "That's barbaric."

"It's not enough," her sensei corrected immediately and coldly. Then, gentler, "You have right of first refusal, as the only victim currently identified. Do you want to be the one to execute the punishment?"

Hyperaware of the three sets of eyes fixed on her, she shook her head rapidly, swallowing against the sick feeling in her throat. "Tell them not to do it," she heard herself beg in a terribly small and pathetic voice. "I'm just me, and they're just pictures."

Long fingers reached out, pulled the part of her hair that framed her face when it was braided back from her sweaty cheek, and tucked it behind her ear. She felt cold and numb and couldn't look at Kakashi-sensei as he spoke with such icy satisfaction that she couldn't process it at all, "Not an option. Someone has to do it, but it doesn't have to be you. All you have to do is sign this, and I'll take care of it."

"'Take care of it,'" she repeated, looking blankly at his shoes.

"I've written my name in as your proxy."

"No."

There was a stretch of silence.

"… What are you saying, Naruto?" The jōnin's words were dangerous, frustrated, and she flinched back from them, ignoring the way he aborted an attempt to reach for her when she did.

Naruto couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand it to know her sensei had cut off a man's body parts for her. "Let an official do it, sensei. I don't want you to do it."

He was properly angry now. She could feel it rolling off of him, and she found herself drawing her dirty knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and staring at them, certain that eye contact would break her in half. But he didn't care. His hand cupped the side of her neck, and his thumb dug in under her chin, forcing her head back, forcing her to look his bloodlust in the eye. She blinked, and hot tears streaked down her cheeks on either side, and she felt like she couldn't breathe as his thumb brushed one of them away. "Naruto." His tone left no room for argument. "Someone has to do it. I want that person to be me… I need it to be me. Let me do this for you."

"It's not for me, it's for you, sensei." She jerked herself out of his grip, scrunching her eyes shut, and he let her. Her hands were shaking, and it was taking everything she had not to gag as she imaged her sensei, the person she felt safest around, cutting off a man's fingers in cold blood. It was awful, too awful to contemplate.

There was a beat of silence. Then, grim and determined, "For me, then. Sign this for me."

Naruto hated it, hated everything about what was happening. But how could she tell him no? It was the only thing he'd really asked for in weeks of her living with him. Her words came out in a shaky little stutter. "Give—j-just—just give it, give it to me," she demanded, teeth chattering, and within seconds the scroll was open on the ground in front of her, a fountain pen had been placed in her hand, and Kakashi-sensei was pointing to where her signature was needed. She scrawled her name with her breath held, and released it in a gasp that sounded like a sob when it was done. Before she could think, recover, catch her breath, the man was pulling the document away from her, plucking the pen from her numb, shaking fingers, and re-rolling the scroll.

"Good girl." The words twisted with her guilt and nausea in her gut, intensifying them both because they felt so damned wonderful to hear, especially in the satisfied growl he was using. She whimpered, but didn't flinch away from the hand that reached out to smooth over her head, trailing down one of her braids. "Thank you." He stood, leaving her there on the ground, feeling fragile and adrift and sick, but Pakkun pushed his head between her torso and her thighs. She let her legs fall, making room for the summons to crawl into her lap. He let her pet him, even though her hands were dirty, holding him close to her chest and burying her face in the fur on top of his head.

Sasuke spoke into the silence, hesitant. "… Can I come?"

"Maybe next time."

With an anxious shiver, Naruto's lips moved without permission, her words muffled by Pakkun's fur. "There's going to be…?"

Her sensei's words came out harsh, directed at the dog in her lap. "I don't know, Pakkun, is there anything else you've been keeping from me?"

The dog's words were patient. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd lose your temper about how long the trial would take. But yes, there are two more in progress, and a few other promising leads to track down in the next few weeks."

"Then yes, Sasuke, you can come to the next one. Hell, you can be her proxy next time if you can get her to say yes." There was a moment in which they were all silent. "Pakkun is in charge, take Naruto home when you're done with the mission."

Naruto flinched as the man popped out of existence, leaving to—to go—because he needed to—he was going to—

She had the foresight to snatch up her bucket of weeds and push Pakkun away as her stomach rebelled in earnest, and she gagged painfully. Sakura was at her side in an instant, tucking the loose parts of her hair back as she retched, spitting up bile as tears ran down her face, dripping from the tip of her nose. When she was able to gather herself enough to lift her head, Sasuke was there, offering her a clean rag from the pile they'd been using for their hands and foreheads. His face was expressionless as she took it, wiping her mouth on it with a wretched shudder. "I'm not going to let you cut off anyone's fingers for my sake," she told him gruffly, and he nodded, even as irritation pinched his brow.

"I know. I won't ask you to."

Sakura wrapped her arms around Naruto's shoulders. "I'm so sorry."

"It's awful, kid," Pakkun added, sympathetic and soothing. "I wish things could be different."

"… Me too."

…

Like he'd stepped back in time, Kakashi found himself standing next to the same chūnin official who'd handled taking Naruto's statement the better part of a month ago, barely listening to him speak as he stared through the one-way glass. But this time, it wasn't Naruto on the other side. No, from what he understood, it was a man who'd been found in possession of photos of his girl, naked and performing lewd acts. They dated to when she was nine, he'd been informed. The man's name was Yoshida Kenji, but Kakashi hadn't needed to be told that. He'd been a client right after he'd gotten his genin team, had hired his team specifically by request to rake up the leaves in his yard just as fall had been turning to winter. He'd noticed that the man looked at Naruto strangely, thought it odd that he'd watched them from the windows while his team worked, but had chalked it up to curiosity about the jinchūriki. The memory filled him with cold, black rage as he thought of it then. Yoshida had wanted to look at his girl, had maybe gotten off on them not knowing what he had in his possession, what he'd done.

The man looked pale, scrawny, and terrified, with his wrists bound to the table in front of him. He'd clearly been crying.

Good.

"How long do I have?" Kakashi asked when the chūnin had finished spouting legalese at him.

He heard the man swallow. "Ten minutes. But I want to reiterate that the amputation itself must be instantaneous, and you can't touch him other than to remove his fingers. The pointer and middle of his right hand, specifically. They've been marked to ensure you amputate the correct ones."

Kakashi hummed to demonstrate his understanding, mind on his girl and the fact that the man in front of him had taken pleasure in her pain and humiliation. "But I can talk to him."

"… You can." There was a pause. "Heard you took her in."

"Yes." The other man had likely expected him to elaborate, but he didn't bother, every ounce of his single-minded focus on the itching need in his joints to cause pain and the bloodlust boiling in his veins. "I can use my own blade?"

"No, it has to be one of ours, in order to ensure it has been recently sharpened. Here."

He was handed a bundle, a kunai wrapped in linen. It felt natural in his hand, and it was indeed very sharp when he tested it against his forefinger, discarding the cloth on the desk. He clenched his fist around it, the blade pointed down and the ring near his thumb. "Ten minutes?" he asked darkly, and the moment he received confirmation, he moved forward and commanded, "Start the timer."

…

Kakashi wasn't an expert on torture, but he knew a few. He'd done it, been subjected to it, and witnessed it on more than one occasion. He knew the mental game was often the more important one, would have to be in this case. He spent the first few minutes leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, rolling the handle of the kunai between his fingers as he stared Yoshida down. The man had started hyperventilating the moment the door had opened and admitted friend-killer Kakashi, and he'd yet to get himself under control, spiraling into an awful panic attack as sobbed and begged for forgiveness, pulling against his bonds until his wrists bled.

He looked at Kakashi like he'd never seen anything so horrible, but still couldn't look away. His eyes were glued to Kakashi's, and mostly just to fuck with him (though being better able to revisit the memory was a nice bonus), he pushed his hitai-ate up, revealing his sharingan eye. That stopped the struggling, as Yoshida instinctively froze in place, his breaths wheezing, whimpering sobs.

Kakashi let the silence stretch for another minute. When at long last, he spoke, his words came out like black silk, condescending and dangerous, making the man bound to the table flinch. "Tell me. Was it worth it?"

"Please," the man begged, crying ugly tears, snot dripping from his nose. "Please, it wasn't worth it, I'm sorry, please let—"

"Do you think she begged?" he wondered with false, mocking curiosity, watching the way his words sank into the man like knives. "Do you think the man who took those pictures and sold them to you stopped when she begged him to?" He moved forward, and the way the man cowered away from him was so satisfying he could have purred. He pointed at the man's clenched fists with his blade, commanding softly, "Lay them flat, or I'll just have to start sawing and hope I get the right ones."

With a panicked, broken sob, Yoshida straightened out his violently trembling fingers. Kakashi's gaze caught on the two that had little black X's drawn between the first and second knuckle. "Please," he tried again, "I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just—"

"Just needed to look at a little girl to get off?" Kakashi snarled, digging the tip of the blade into the table as he leaned across it, got into Yoshida's face. "What were the pictures of? Tell me." There was a stretch of silence, and when obedience was not forthcoming, Kakashi slammed the blade into the table between the man's fingers, prompting a scream and more sobbing hyperventilation as he slowly pried the knife from the wood, satisfied by the scent of piss that had entered the air. "I won't ask again."

Yoshida scrambled to answer him, words shaking badly. "One of—one of them w-was." He swallowed, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. "One of them was of her on her back, on a bed with—" He stopped, and Kakashi only had to shift his grip on the handle of the blade to get him to flinch and force himself to spill his guts. "Naked, with her legs open," he gasped, shame pouring from every part of his body as he sagged over his bound hands like a ragdoll. "And some were of her sucking dick, and—"

Rage flared and blacked out his vision for a second. "Sucking dick?" he spat. "Or being raped?"

"I—I tried not to think about—"

"What was her face like? What expression was on it?"

The man shrank into himself further, like the nasty little worm he was. "She looked scared," he admitted in a whisper, sounding horrified at himself.

"So you knew. You knew she was being hurt. And you jerked off to it instead of helping her. Fingers flat." The man had begun to clench his fists again, but that wouldn't do. Kakashi was running out of time. "Why did you hire us last year?"

"No reason! I swear—"

Kakashi's palm slamming against the table made him flinch, cowering and crying, and he leaned in so far that Yoshida had to lean back to avoid their faces colliding. "Tell me the truth, or I might slip and take off the whole hand." He could feel the chūnin moving in the other room, going for the door, whether to stop him from making good on his threats or because his time was almost up, he had no idea, but he knew this would have to finish soon.

"I wanted—I wanted to see if I could get to her," he admitted, ashamed of himself, quiet and wide-eyed. "I still don't know if I would have done anything, but I-I was—I was thinking about it."

The door was opening; Kakashi hissed his last words. "If you ever think about it again, I'm not going to be satisfied with a few fingers."

His movement was so quick that for a moment, it seemed Yoshida hadn't realized what had happened. He watched Kakashi straighten up, then glanced at the chūnin at the door, then looked down, all in a fraction of a second. Kakashi threw the bloodied kunai onto the table, turning away as Yoshida's eyes bugged out of his head and he began to scream in earnest. He passed the chūnin, never looking back as he murmured, "See you for the next one," and left, his business concluded.

The pleasantly cool late spring breeze was soothing as Kakashi stepped out into the day, sunlight warming him as the wind moved through his hair. He didn't like to hurt people—really, he didn't—but this was an exception. He felt light, pleased even if he itched to inflict more pain. He finally felt like he was worthy of looking Naruto in the eye, worthy of asking to be hers.

He wiped his face, and his sleeve came back a little bloody. He'd head home to shower, then go tell Iruka, he decided as he started walking. Pakkun would watch the pups.