Kakashi glared at his old clan compound.
He hadn't—
It had been years.
And he knew it was his own fault.
But he hadn't expected it to look as bad as it did.
"It's fine," Rin said. "I mean, it's definitely run down, but… it's fine."
It was old, it was boarded up, it was overgrown, and the roof was a mess.
"…You may have been right about hiring genin teams."
He'd wanted at least one day for himself, looking through the things he hadn't thought to grab in his grief, and then maybe a week or so of heavy spending on contractors—he could certainly afford it.
It was Rin who pointed out that—if he didn't intend to live there himself (and he didn't)—having a team come in seasonally to do basic maintenance wasn't the worst idea.
And it's not like he wanted to be an asshole to his sponsees.
…And that was the reason for the rush.
In hindsight, sponsoring orphans was maybe not the best way to keep busy while he was stuck in the village. But it had been months now, and while he and Kushina were making progress it wasn't really… well, fast. And there were really only so many hours he could keep at it, and—
And he'd done administrative work for Sensei, and he'd kept on top of his training, but he'd also maybe been a bit too loud about how bored he was.
(It was Obito's suggestion. He should've known not to trust it.)
"Ready?" Rin asked.
That didn't really matter, did it? He told the Childcare Bureau he could sponsor three orphans starting the Academy with the new Spring class (because now there were four new classes a year, one per season, and Konoha's Academy population kept growing).
He told them that, and they'd asked when he could move them in, and he said two weeks.
Ten days, now.
Ten days, to get his compound in order.
Ten days, to prepare for the first Hatake sponsors.
(He was an idiot.)
"Yeah, I'm ready."
.
Kushina hesitated, wondering if this was a good idea after all. She hadn't really thought it through, was the thing. She'd thought about going to the clan, and then—
And then she'd been in front of the door.
(Maybe… maybe she could come back tomorrow?)
The door swung open.
"Can I help you?"
Kushina only very vaguely knew the Kurama Clan, hadn't paid much attention to them beyond the Hyuuga incident.
She did know the woman who opened the door, though, the woman who was staring at her, waiting for Kushina's response:
Kurama Unchi.
Minato'd mentioned that she was the de facto Head Kurama, for all that Rakuun was still alive and therefore the official Head.
Senile, definitely, but alive.
Minato—Kushina was pretty sure he respected her.
"Um, hello. I'm Uzumaki Kushina," she started, and this was why she should've come back tomorrow, should've—
"Hello, Head Uzumaki," (unofficial) Head Kurama said, and Kushina had been skipping Clan Head meetings for a reason, didn't want to hear—"What brings you to our door on this blistery winter evening?"
In other words, leave or stay but stop making me let the cold in.
"May I come in? I, um, had some questions about Kurama ancestry."
Some minutes later, after they'd retired to the tea room and appreciated its warmth, Head Kurama—"Call me Unchi, please."—pierced her with a stare once more. "So, what makes you interested in the Kurama heritage?"
"Oh," —can't tell the truth, need to think of lie—"I came across your name in some very old Uzu scrolls and wondered why." That was rude, wasn't it? "Um."
Unchi smiled. Kushina kind of got why the Kurama Clan's reputation had always been a bit distinct—she smiled like she was imagining all sorts of ways to kill you, and Kushina knew perfectly well that the other Kurama had reputations for similar wicked expressions.
(Kushina, meanwhile, had inherited a stutter. Still had to think before she spoke. Some people had all the luck.)
"The Kurama line can be traced back all the way to the imperial family. My ancestor—a bastard, actually, of the actual Kurama family—broke away, went east. Settled here, in Fire, and after some years a more recent ancestor married a woman with unusually good illusory powers. Several more years later, we arrive at the present day."
…That was one way to summarize several millennia.
"Um," Kushina said. "I didn't… I didn't know that any family could trace their lineage that far."
"I believe only the Kurama, Earth's samurai Kokuo clan, and the clan of the Daimyo of the Land of Oil—Chomei, I believe—are the ones that trace their lineage back so far. Our earliest records emphasize the importance of such names, however, and their preservation, so the Kurama Clan has worked hard to maintain our lineage and our formal name."
And Kushina—wondered.
Considered poking the Kyuubi—considered poking Kurama.
Decided against it.
(The fox only really deigned to talk to her every couple of weeks, and was never happy about it. She'd save this for their next meeting.)
"Um, thank you, Unchi. Um." Kushina bowed, hasty. She had a lot to think about, and her mind was already whirring—with or without aid, this might be just the history Minato was looking for.
"I am, of course, happy to help another Clan," Unchi said, watching as Kushina flinched. "And perhaps, one day, some years in the future, you could tell be the true reasons for your questions." Kushina flinched again. Smiled.
Invited Unchi to come over for dinner sometime, because you could never have enough friends and Unchi was the kind of person you wanted to be your friend.
And Unchi…
Smiled back.
Agreed.
.
"We've got an issue."
"Which of Jiraiya's kids?"
"It could be someone—oh. Guess not."
A laugh.
"Given all they're issues integrating, we're lucky if we go a day without major issues."
"That bad?"
"Well, there's four of them."
"Four?"
"There's a dog, too."
"Oh."
"You said we had an issue?"
"Yes, Head. It's the girl this time."
"Konan? She usually has the least issues."
"Yeah, it's… I'm pretty sure it's a kekkai genkai."
"What?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. She—she's always messing about with Origami, and… it looks like it's beginning to… well, her Sensei said it looked like she wrapped paper around her arm, and another student—with her permission—tried to stab it, and couldn't get through the paper."
"Huh."
"Yeah."
"I can report this to the Hokage, if you wish? I need to bring him the information about the Academy expansion."
"That would be helpful, yes. I apologize that we couldn't finish our meeting."
"Perhaps next time. By your leave, Head Shimura, Sensei Utatane."
"Have a good day, Aiko."
.
Shizune scrunched her eyes further shut as she heard the door creak, but she knew protocol. She forced her eyes open, ignored the sleep still clinging to her lashes, and grabbed her kunai.
Then dropped it.
"Aunt Tsunade!"
"Hey, bug. How are you?"
"I'm good! Are you staying overnight?"
Aunt Tsunade snorted. "I'm staying for the foreseeable future. Finally."
"What about your project?"
"Put on hold. We're expecting some new information soon, so there's no point in continuing until then. More to the point, my 'project' has moved to Konoha, so I really am here for good."
Shizune grinned, bobbing on her toes like she had as a little girl. Tsunade was frequently in town nowadays, but only to check in on those that fought the byoki—the rest of the time she was away, doing something else.
That something now being here—her aunt finally being home—
Shizune loved it when all her loved ones were around, getting along, and it looked like that was exactly what she was going to get.
"So, how's the hospital? Treating you well?"
Shizune didn't bother to hide the noise she made in response.
"Okay, so that's a no. What's wrong?"
"I'm really struggling with my pharmaceuticals rotation."
Tsunade snorted. "Drug interactions?"
"Yeah."
"That's why I told them to make pharmaceuticals mandatory."
"It's just… a lot. Of memorization. And you can't use older iryounin flash cards because, you know, the drugs have changed."
"Not all of them."
"Enough that it's not worth it."
"Alright, then what's a way around it?"
"What?"
"Doi's a medical researcher, right? And he raised you. Must've taught you something. So invent something to help you keep track of all the interactions. Like a computer, or something."
Shizune stared at her. "I flunked my fuinjutsu elective."
"Then put in a suggestion, offer to help." Tsunade turned to her adopted daughter, smiled. "I know you, kid. You're capable of passing just by studying hard. But you're like me and Dan, too—you want to know if there's a better way."
And Shizune felt something rising in her chest, rising to her brain.
An idea.
.
Kakashi scuffed the dirt as he made his way to his clan compound the civilian way. He felt sorry about letting Kushina down, but he'd tried, and they hadn't responded to any of the names.
He'd done his part.
(He still felt guilty, felt like she was the one doing all the work. Knew it wasn't true, knew he was making progress too…
(Still felt guilty.)
He tried to keep his eyes forward and attentive as he walked. The shock the first time he'd flickered to the compound, tempered only by the dark of a crescent moon night, had been far greater than he'd expected.
Better to let his compound come into sight gradually.
Better to give him a few seconds to react to the changes before they were crystal clear, directly in front of his face.
Pakkun trotted loyally next to him, another suggestion by his therapist he'd had a much easier time agreeing to, and Kakashi took a breath as he turned onto the right street.
The roof was repaired, washed. Looked better than it had at any point in his life.
The fresh paint looked good, too.
The garden was done, was set up to provide additional food to the kids that had moved in inside, just like most other compounds did.
The windows were all there, all washed.
The door was new, rot-less.
Kakashi felt the usual pain in his throat, his eyes, his nose.
Ignored it.
And—
"All the curtains have been hung, Sensei! And I have scrubbed the second landing floor in preparation for the stain! And I washed the bathrooms too!"
"…All I asked you to do was to hang the curtains, Guy. Perhaps there were other things I wished you to do prior to staining, but your overzealousness got in the way."
"I apologize, Sensei! I will run Konoha—"
"We are in the middle of a job, Guy. You may do as you wish in your free time, but that is not now. Ah, and you must be Head Hatake."
…Yeah, he kind of got why Kushina didn't like that.
"Yeah, that's me."
"Hatake Kakashi! You have been horribly neglecting your house! To take care of yourself, you must take care of your environment—"
"That is enough, Guy. Stand. Quietly."
Kakashi side-eyed the genin. They looked to be about the same age, but Guy's faux pas was at least not the sort he usually had to deal with; it had been some time since he'd last been chided by a child.
He wasn't sure if he'd ever been chided by a child, actually.
He smiled.
"Well, I do apologize if my grief over my father's death got in the way of how you thought the world should work."
"I apologize," the jounin said. "Maito is… overenthusiastic, and does not think before he speaks." Or at all. "We are nearly done with our work for today."
"Great, thank you."
Kakashi didn't bother to be polite as he ducked inside, ignored both of the genin working on clearing out the water damage as he made his way upstairs, to where the students were staying—they'd be home soon, and he wanted to see how their accommodations were working out before talking to them.
.
Sakura tried to pull the information from the back of her head, but she didn't even know if it was there.
On the other hand, they'd been talking for three hours straight and Sakura's half-remembered memories of Arden's half-remembered memories of book-binding and perforated edges and binders and the like were the only paper-related knowledge Sakura hadn't thoroughly exhausted.
In front of her the girl, Konan, kept on working on her kirigami flowers, listening and talking and smiling as she messed with the various types of papers Sakura had collected for her.
They were fairly sure, now, that Konan had a bloodline. The Kurama had suggested a derivative the long-extinct Teijo clan's bloodline, a bloodline they'd been eradicated over and whose mere existence was destroyed in almost every record; it had come about with the printing press, that much was clear, and it had been powerful, but the exact details of how their bloodline worked, what it was capable of…
The current best guess was that it had something to do with paper, or ink, or both, so it was little surprise that the Kurama—some of the best recordkeepers in the East—suggested them.
After the clans had agreed that it was a bloodline, and agreed not to interfere with Konan's childhood—Jiraiya had done quite a bit of work there, to prevent even the suggestion of a betrothal contract to pass anyone's lips—they'd gone to Sakura.
And Sakura remembered.
She knew Konan.
Knew another of the children Jiraiya brought to Konoha.
But she was reasonably sure they hadn't grown up in Konoha in Arden's memories, and they were children anyway, so Sakura pushed her memories of the danger of Konan, of Nagato away, focused on helping Konan figure out where to start while she experimented with a new—or at least newly uncovered—bloodline.
"…and it is most definitely past lunch, so let's call it a day and let you have a bit of a break for the afternoon."
"I still have so many questions, though! And—and I was wondering about seals, and how they could be used! Oh, and—" Sakura, well aware of the clock and her other pressing responsibilities (and, of course, how close she was to the end of her paper knowledge) smiled.
"How about we make this a biweekly meeting?"
"Yeah, okay," Konan said. "I just—I'd…" she'd never really thought she had a bloodline before, Sakura knew. They'd talked about that first; about how she'd just thought everybody could do things with paper, about how she'd enjoyed it, but assumed it wasn't particularly useful until her Sensei made a fuss about it. And now—now that she knew she could turn her hobby into a kunoichi specialty—she'd become understandably obsessed.
"You still need to eat, Konan. And sleep. And stay clean, and keep up with physical and mental training, and maintain friendships, and—live. There will always be tomorrow." A lie, but a common one, especially for children; a reminder that all aspects of life had to be balanced; and if you got the balance wrong, the next day would be an opportunity to try again.
"Yes, I know… Thank you, Research Head Yamanaka."
"You're welcome."