For the third time in as many minutes, Sakura hit the ground hard.
The air flew out of her lungs, and she couldn't react quick enough to avoid the sword at her throat.
"Yield." She croaked out.
Iwana withdrew his sword and offered a hand, which she accepted. "You're dodging skills are admirable."
Sakura laughed, still struggling for air. "Not that good, apparently."
They'd been practicing for half an hour, and she'd lost count of the amount of times she'd yielded. Their entire squad had gathered to get used to each other's fight styles, and it was blatantly obvious that Sakura had the least experience. Even Yoshisu, who was a medic, had managed to take her down more than once.
"You'd probably last longer if you used your poison more often." Josuki commented, having just finished her own match with Yoshisu. "Are you worried about sending one of us to the hospital with them?"
Sakura always had her antidotes on her thank you very much. "It's not like I have an unlimited supply." She said. "The ingredients can be expensive." Not to mention the space and equipment necessary to safely make the poisons. Before, she'd used Genma's gear, but he was out of the village for now and would be for at least another two weeks.
She was being conservative with the rest of her supplies too. She still hadn't managed to restock, and the last thing she needed was to lose or destroy what little gear she had left.
"That just allows you to focus on your other skills." Iwana said encouragingly. "You are countering much more quickly than you were earlier."
That really only meant that she was countering at all, instead of barely keeping up with defense. Sakura would take what she could get.
She rolled her wrists and turned to Iwana. "Teach me that throw?" She asked hesitantly.
He was nice-or at least acted like it-but she wasn't sure how much she could push here. Right now, with their other teammates around them, the risk of him doing anything was limited, but that didn't mean he had to oblige her.
Iwana settled into a stance. "Like this…"
Inoichi had a headache.
"You mean to tell me, that not only did you Mind Walk a chuunin without permission, but you didn't even find anything useful?"
It wasn't often that he had to deal with this kind of insubordination. Yamanaka didn't often flaunt the rules around their jutsu usage, or at the very least, didn't often get caught.
They were having enough trouble rooting out Orochimaru's spies for this bullshit to get thrown on top of it.
"She had very minimal contact with Kabuto. She was wary of him, but did not suspect him of treason. I find it unlikely she was working with Orochimaru."
Inoichi sighed. "And her match with Ino?" Just because this hadn't been sanctioned didn't mean he wasn't going to get as much as he could out of it.
"Unusually high control over her own mindscape, but not the result of outside training. Our previous assumptions about her breakout were correct."
"And this breakout?" He pressed.
Ishino had the decency to look embarrassed. "She was not physically secured and deduced she still had control over her own body. Likely another side affect of her mindscape control."
Inoichi wasn't sure that was better. If Sakura had been trained, then her uncanny ability to escape Yamanaka jutsu would have at least made sense. If it was simply innate talent and intelligence, well. Any kind of justsu related interrogation that the Yamanaka could preform might have a lessened affect on her. Considering the position they all found themselves in, that was far from ideal.
"Congratulations, you jeopardized the clan's standing for nothing." Inoichi said coldly. "You are removed from your duties as a psychological evaluator effective immediately. Since you clearly can't be trusted to follow orders, you will be shuffled onto the mission roster with another Yamanaka with you at all times."
A far cry from how much independence he'd had before, but Inoichi was past sympathy. It felt like a waste, to use someone as highly trained as Ishino like this, but it was better than benching him entirely. They needed as much manpower as they could get.
Wisely, Ishino did not protest. "Yes, sir." He stood, clearly expecting a dismissal. But Inoichi wasn't done yet.
"This is the punishment for your first infraction." He said in the same soft tone that had made hardened prisoners flinch. "Do not find out what the second will be."
Ishino stilled, too good of a shinobi to visibly react, but listening all the same.
"Of course, sir."
Inoichi leaned back. "Dismissed."
Tsunade needed a drink.
"…finally received official communication from Suna. The new Kazekage, Akasuna no Sasori, insists that they played no material role in the attack on Konoha and that they are willing to renegotiate their alliance." Shizune finished. "There is no mention of reparations."
Of course there wasn't.
"Well, we can't exactly prove otherwise." She grumbled. "None of their forces made an appearance except as an extraction to those who were present for the chuunin exams. Gekko's testimony isn't nearly enough to force their hand."
The previous terms of the treaty hadn't even had a clause for alerting each other of incoming threats, so Suna wasn't liable for not informing Konoha about Oto.
"Any official word from Kumo or Iwa?" They were the largest threat outside of Orochimaru. They were the Nations they had the worst relationships with, and the ones with the power to back up their grudges.
Shizune flipped through a few more papers. "Both the Raikage and Tsuchikage have sent recognition of your appointment. Nothing else through the official channels."
They were unofficially trying to poach missions, money, and information, but that was to be expected. They wouldn't be shinobi if they always sat down for reasonable discussions.
"And Kiri?"
Shizune hesitated. "They have also sent out recognition of your appointment."
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "And what else?"
Six years ago, Kiri had gone through a devastating civil war. Ultimately, the Third Mizukage had been usurped and replaced by Mei Terumi, who had been slowly clawing back their influence and power. They'd been laying low for the past few years, making few waves internationally.
"They've sent out feelers for a potential alliance." Shizune said eventually.
Tsunade's eyebrows shot up. Kiri didn't do alliances. They were isolationists who almost always kept to themselves. The exceptions were the Shinobi Wars, and their attack on Uzushio.
"Tell me everything."
Akio didn't look up when the door to his shop opened. "You're late."
There was a slight pause. "I don't recall agreeing to come at a specific time." Sakura said dryly. "And according to your sign, you're still open."
True, true, but she had discounted the fact that he just wanted to mess with her. "It's about the principle of the thing." He said cryptically. "I assume you're here for your outfit?"
"It certainly isn't for the company." She muttered under her breath. Then, much louder. "Yes. I've brought my end of the deal as well."
Akio's lips twitched. "Then get over here, brat."
He pulled a package out from under his worktable, and tossed it at her. She scrambled to catch it, and unceremoniously dumped her own bag onto the table. Right on top of his current project.
This kid… Akio smothered the laughter in his gut and waved her towards a small changing room at the back.
He peeled away the bag to reveal the contents inside, greedily running his hands over it. It wasn't often that he got a standard flak jacket in pristine condition to play with. The tailors that made them guarded the process fiercely, and Akio was going to crack it.
The door behind him creaked open, and he pried himself away from his prize. Sakura stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing the way the outfit fit on her. As if Akio would have taken her measurements poorly.
The pants were simple and black. Loose, but without unnecessary fabric or flair. They ended mid-calf, the bottom sinched tight on her leg. The shirt was a deep red, sleeveless and high collared. It tucked easily into the pants, and was silky enough to prevent easy purchase.
The accessories had taken the most time to create. Both the fishnet elbow guards and the solid black fingerless gloves had hidden compartments on the edges of the seams. The perfect hiding place for smoke pellets or other miniscule gear.
She had elected to keep her own footwear, and had adamantly refused to let him touch her goggles. Both were solid enough quality, so he hadn't bothered pushing for it.
Sakura waved her arms and legs around, testing the fit of the outfit in movement. When nothing caught or loosened, she turned back to him.
"It fits."
Akio crossed his arms. "Of course, it fits. I made it. Are you going to take it?"
"Of course." She said, mimicking his tone. "Am I free to go?"
He waved her away. "If you destroy that outfit, I'll never let you in here again. The daughter of a tailor should know how to take care of their clothing."
Her shoulders stiffened. "I do."
"Then act like it. Have some pride in the craft. And either throw that old dress out, or get it repaired, because leaving it as it is, is an affront to what tailors stand for."
Her expression flattened. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." Without another word, she stalked out of the shop, old clothes in hand.
Akio rolled his eyes. "Kids these days."
Shikaku found Shikamaru deep in the Nara forest.
He was leaned against one of the old oak's, the branches far too plentiful and lush to see more than a glimpse of the sky. At his side, one of the younger deer lay sleeping, unbothered by the telltale shing! of a blade being sharpened.
Shikaku didn't bother hiding his footsteps, giving Shikamaru plenty of warning before propping himself up beside him. They sat like that for a few minutes, side by side in silence.
"I'm not upset the mission was a failure, or that I killed the client." Shikamaru said eventually.
"I know." He had already read the mission report. There were few ways that could have gone, and even fewer that would have improved the outcome. Shikamaru had done what Nara did best; analysed the reality of their situation and come up with a solution.
Sometimes the worst part of that was living with the outcome.
"I made a plan, and it worked." Shikamaru said dully. "I wish it hadn't."
Plans being interrupted happened all the time. Maybe it was because the information available wasn't trustworthy, or the enemy had something unexpected up their sleeve. That's why adaptability was so heavily focused on when they taught strategy. It was inevitable that things would go wrong. Shikamaru had already learned how to cope with that.
It was different when things went the way you'd planned, when every detail lined up, and you had to face what you'd done.
"Given the chance, what would you have changed?" Shikaku asked.
Shikamaru's grip around his kunai tightened. "Nothing."
The deer at his side stirred, making a mildly distressed sound.
Sometimes, the cards had been dealt long before you stepped foot at the table. And no matter how much you schemed, or cheated, or bluffed, there would be a loss.
"You wish that things had gone wrong, so the outcome wouldn't be your responsibility." Shikaku deduced.
As far as missions went, it was far from a massive disaster. Only one of the squad members died, and while every other member sustained notable injuries, they survived and even managed to gather some valuable information.
And Shikamaru knew all of that.
"Have you seen your squad since the debrief?" He asked.
Shikamaru shook his head. "They're resting at the hospital."
"You should visit them." He said, tone brokering no argument.
After a beat of hesitation, Shikamaru nodded. "Okay." Finally, he put his kunai and whetstone away.
"The life of a shinobi is hard." Shikaku said quietly. "As a leader, it's even harder. You will make choices, and people will die. We walk through the shadows, as is our duty and privilege."
The leaves above rustled with the wind.
Shikaku gave a half-smile. "But the shadows aren't all that bad, in the end." The deer nuzzled Shikamaru's palm.
"They are far more forgiving than the light."