Somehow, after what had happened today, I felt that spending my time face down in bed was not what I should be doing.
Somehow, after what had happened today, I found it challenging to care.
I'd just spent the last hour doing the next best thing to screaming. Lying down, paralyzed with fear of the present and the future. And I was tired.
No. I was exhausted. I was sad.
My day had ended at noon.
Not all scars were visible. Trauma was as much of an injury as any other… I'd been well on my way to healing, I think. Treatment had been in progress. The scar around my middle was gone, and I'd been working on the rest.
It was hard to explain how much the cats had helped.
It was not so hard to explain how interacting with my peers and Ino's presence had done most of the heavy lifting.
My parents would be back soon to watch my performance. Late. But welcome.
That treatment was now focused on damage prevention and control. The wound had been reopened.
It would require 'cleaning'.
Time. I needed that.
And I needed to put in the most effort possible that didn't involve me getting up.
Not right now. I didn't have the energy to get up.
I had to think…I could do that. First, problems. What were they? What mattered most to me, and what could I do about them?
I could pretend they didn't exist, I had no problems, and everything was fine. That was one option. It wasn't a realistic choice, though. It's not even worth considering.
…What could I do realistically?
What were my goals?
I was concerned that Orochimaru might consider me dead weight and that I needed to be cut loose. Avoiding him might have been possible. I wasn't his primary goal. If I left, he might leave me be.
That was an option.
Of course, in doing that, I'd lose all trust and respect from anyone who heard of what had happened. This would be everyone with ears because I knew Naruto. He wouldn't be able to shut up about it. And I'd be near the top of Sasuke's shit list when he had his mental break.
That wasn't optimal.
My other option was to stand with my team and to use my skills and abilities to the fullest extent I was capable of…only to get slapped aside once Orochimaru got bored.
That was the best possible ending for me.
Realistically.
The idea that I could match one of the Sannin was absurd, even if Orochimaru wasn't what he was after everything he'd done to himself…whatever. What he'd done to himself didn't matter to me.
What did matter was that I wasn't going into this as if I was going to die.
I refused.
…Yes.
I also sighed.
I had a week to think about this, make plans, enhance myself further, and continue my current project… The Breaths were more complicated than they looked. Breathing exercises done large.
I'd already popped a lung…twice. Technically, it's the same lung. It sat in the same place the old one did anyway. It was a simple fix, breaking down and replacing wholesale, but that wasn't pleasant.
As missing a lung tended not to be.
Next problem.
I was reasonably concerned that my peers would turn on me—some of them, at least—mostly the older ones I'd had little reason to interact with. The allure of being slightly higher-ranked cannon fodder is difficult to resist. That shiny green jacket or its equivalent had been known to provoke murder attempts between different teams from the same village more than once.
Konoha was no exception to this.
The crab bucket is real.
Of course, if that were to happen, if someone were so foolish as to try me on this, my response would be brutal, quick, and proportional.
In all ways.
I didn't care who they were or who they might know. Betrayal would be punished severely, and any fallout from this would be a secondary concern.
Simple.
Opposing teams would be treated as opposing teams. Except for Gaara's, which would be avoided at all costs.
Subdue targets. Check their scroll. Take the scroll if it's the one we need. Don't take the scroll if it isn't. Repeat until completion. Get to the tower. Done, with room for improvisation.
Done.
Yes. The sticking point.
Getting it done.
And then, what came after. The elimination round and the tournament where thousands of tourists would find entertainment watching the young attempt to kill each other for the right to wear bare-effort body armor…the invasion.
Shukaku.
That.
I shuddered, the comforting weight of Ino on my back moving with it as she carded her fingers through my hair.
It was nice.
…And I was getting ahead of myself. Depending on various factors, the forest and the events within would affect my thinking on this matter. My health, and the health of my team and fellow contestants. Available supplies. The reactions of others. Other concerns.
Before I knew my limits, there was no point in making further plans for the coming storm beyond the abstract.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
…These sheets had been freshly washed.
Very nice.
"Want to talk about what's got you spooked this time?"
I twitched.
No. Not really. It wasn't as if Ino could help with this. It was too big, too far outside of anyone's control, let alone that of a pair of genin... one of which, somehow, knew a little too much about things she shouldn't.
Or couldn't.
And, again, I had other concerns.
My lunch with Inoichi and Kakashi was a while ago, but not too long. Their fishing expedition had been an even-handed one, but, looking back on it, they had been fishing. For what, I don't know.
Their questions had seemed odd on the surface (I'm a ninja, so that should be enough of an answer as to why I did things, shouldn't it?), but I'd drawn someone's attention.
I doubted that attention had fallen away when I hadn't been looking. Ninja had long memories.
Bringing up Team Kabuto when that was the case may have been a mistake, even if it had been the right sort of chum to muddy the waters for my escape. Kabuto's backers weren't the sort anyone wanted paying attention to—not even a little.
Drawing more attention than I already had wasn't in my interests—or those of anyone who enjoyed living—not with what I know.
Danzo's shadow was a long one. Obito, Zetsu, whoever, someone… Many people were making the world a worse place.
Naruto and Sasuke could make it through in the worst case (me breaking under extended interrogation). However, if my dreams were even halfway reliable (I wasn't crazy), that prophecy had just gotten harder for them to complete.
Not exactly optimal.
Yes.
…And besides, I put too much on Ino's back as it was. I already knew I could be a little—much—at times—manic, dour, whatever…and we'd cemented our relationship and our status as lovers over my near-death experience. That was a bit heavy once I thought about it.
…
…I hope that particular form of trauma bonding didn't make things strange later.
"Hey. This is a yes or no question. Use your words." Ino sat up, tugging my hair as I quietly squirmed beneath her. "Do. You. Want. To. Talk. About. It?"
Right. Back to this.
What could I say to that? How could I tell her the truth? Even if I did want to talk, what proof did I have that didn't involve having someone rifle through my memories?
I trusted Ino with my life. But did I trust her with the things I'd seen? With a future that may never pass?
With what may be a stunningly prescient form of mental illness that had gotten lucky?
I wasn't crazy.
A delaying action was required.
"Not really," I mumbled into the pillow.
Not my best work.
There was no easy way I could see to reveal my knowledge of the impending invasion. That was the problem with secrets: the longer they were kept, the more damage was done to trust... And I had been keeping this secret my whole life.
It didn't matter that there were good reasons why I'd done so: Not being tortured to death because someone couldn't accept that I'd already told them everything I knew was good... Someone would be hurt. One way or another, whatever I did. That was the way of things.
This nonsense was why I wanted to own and enjoy a bakery.
This nonsense was why I wouldn't have the pleasure of doing so.
So, what hurt the least? What would cause the least damage to people I cared about and the most to people I didn't?
I asked myself this complicated question as the silence continued to stretch on, and the pulls at my hair came faster and sharper, insistent like a child pulling at the end of a bell that wouldn't ring.
It kind of hurt.
I needed more time—all the time in the world…time for the truth. Some of it, anyway.
"I don't care about getting promoted."
Ino stopped pulling at my hair. "What?"
"I don't care."
That was true. I didn't care. Not a whit. Promotions came with increased pay, privileges, prestige, etc., yes, but they also came with increased responsibility to match—more danger, more pressure, and more things that I didn't want or need.
What I'd just said was shocking. Scandalous, even.
That lack of ambition was a foreign concept for someone in my profession.
Most of the people in my profession were stupid.
"If my not going didn't mean I'd be messing up Sasuke's and Naruto's careers, I wouldn't bother," I continued, the word 'career' stretched to its absolute limits… It wasn't like they ever passed one of these in my dreams anyway. "I'd just take the tests."
It was simple, safe, and completed within a year. Basic fighting skills, an understanding of tactics, and the ability to read a book without falling asleep were all you needed to become a Chunin…and a Jonin. Sort of.
Becoming a Jonin was more of a popularity contest than anything else. If enough ninja in good standing agreed that you were fit to be one, the rank was yours. And that was fine by me.
I wasn't interested in participating.
Another silence. "Tests?"
That was fast.
"You can request a rank advancement appointment at the tower on weekends," I calmly informed her as she sat on me, stunned. Understandable. This wasn't something most genin knew about. It was probably because, if they did, they'd have less incentive to perform in front of a crowd of potential customers. "It's the test that we took to become genin. But slightly harder."
Slightly. It couldn't be that much harder. Mizuki had worn the vest, after all.
There were, of course, battlefield promotions as well. But I'd rather not.
"If we didn't have an alternative, we wouldn't have nearly as many people in flak," I finished.
"...You know, that makes a lot of sense. I never thought of it before," Ino replied thoughtfully. "The Exams put out around two new Chunin a year, so that couldn't be it. Huh."
"Most Chunin are like furniture or the cleaning crew," I agree. "They are always around, doing the important work, but everyone ignores them."
…Wait.
"Maybe I want to be promoted after all."
Ino snorted, which I thought was a little unfair. Iruka seemed to be doing alright for himself, after all. Now that he was out of the hospital, at least.
Seriously though, good for him not getting a windmill shuriken in the back. Those hurt.
"You don't need to be promoted for me to use you like furniture. But if that's what it takes…" Ino reminded me of our position and what was at stake with a hop on my back that made the bed creak. "And stop trying to distract me. Why don't you want to talk about it?"
Gods damn it.
Alright then. Alright. I needed something else then. Something reasonable. Something that made sense.
…
…
I got it.
"What do you know about Suna?" I began again. "Other than it being a desert?"
"I…uh…not a lot? It's hot?" The embarrassment was palpable. And at least she was honest. "They're our allies?"
"The daimyo of Wind Country has been taking jobs from their village and giving them to us for years."
Ino audibly choked on her tongue.
"You should pay more attention to the mission listings. They're rather informative."
And this was true. It wasn't as if the average C-rank mission was a secret. You could just pull them from a rack and request that it be put on your record if you wanted to take it. Easy.
Secrecy came into play for B and up…but I didn't need to know about B and up. I just had to know that the government of a neighboring country was outsourcing its military.
No matter how you looked at it, that was bad .
"Oh, shit," Ino finally hissed once she'd regained the ability to intake air and stopped pounding a fist between my shoulder blades. "They hate us!"
That was fast.
"Yes." And it was lovely when I didn't have to explain simple concepts. "The daimyo has no faith in his military. I suspect it's due to their lack of well-known ninjas and S-ranks compared to the other Great villages." I pause, my mood turning dark as I remember why that was the state of things. "What I am about to say is my opinion. Not a statement of fact."
Even if it was.
"Well, that makes me feel better." Sarcasm. Cute. "But sure. Let me hear it."
"I suspect that the leadership of Suna has been consolidating power at the village's expense; look into what happened to Pakura of the Scorch, their last Kage candidate, and they're now regretting their choices."
"What? Are you saying - he's been killing off his best ninja?" Ino quickly sat up, her fingers scratching at the fabric of my dress. "No way. No one would be that stupid."
You'd think so. You'd really think so.
"Rasa, the Kazekage. His bloodline ability is manipulating gold to the extent that he can summon it from his surroundings on demand. Gold is more common than you'd think. And yet, Suna is notoriously destitute." I let her roll that over in her head. "It isn't proof, but I don't think he's what anyone could call intelligent."
"He…what? He can do that?" Ino's fingers stop tapping. I can picture her frown in my mind's eye. "How? What kind of moron couldn't keep a village running on infinite gold? I know there's such a thing as oversaturation of the market, but how ?"
Not a charitable view of the man on its own, but…well. It was in character for him, from what I'd heard.
I'm honestly not sure how he fucked that up, either.
"And then," I say, instead of delving too deeply into that man's thought process - I suspected the area should have a no-diving sign for safety reasons. "We look at who's participating this year. Nine Genin just out of the academy, more than half of whom are the heirs to Konoha's most prominent clans."
Ino goes very still.
Again. It was lovely when I didn't have to explain simple concepts.
"Did you know his son is around our age? A little younger. He also has an older sister and brother, but they aren't important right now." I waited for her to nod before continuing. "He's got a variation on his father's bloodline limit. Sand. And, from what I understand, he's an indiscriminate killer who has never been injured in a mission."
Ino made to open her mouth.
"Bingo Book. Series 38. Page 24. Gaara of the Sands," I replied before she could ask how I knew. "He's a ringer—one with a thirst for blood. And if my suspicions about Suna's goals are correct, this is the exam he'll take." I sighed. "And I'm thinking."
Mostly of avoiding him. Fighting him would be useless for most. Killing him would be…bad. Knocking him out, same. Shukaku unchained and free to wreak havoc wasn't the worst-case scenario, but it wasn't great.
Avoid him. That is all.
Orochimaru was a whole other kettle of fish. And what needed to be thought on the hardest.
Later. Later.
I was all thought out.
Later.
"...And I think, right now, I just want a nap." I nodded to myself. "A nap sounds nice."
It sounded good.
"Now? Right now? After all that? You can't just-" Ino stopped. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay. You've had a long day. And I need to do some stuff anyway." She leaned forward, kissing me on the back of my head before she rolled off me. "I'll see you when you wake up."
"Yeah… See yo-"
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"Daddy? Be honest with me." Ino, eyes wide and hair disheveled after she'd run down the stairs, began without warning as Inoichi sat down for lunch. "How likely is it that Suna will send a ringer to try and kill us all in the woods?"
Inoichi fumbled his lunch in his lap, a bowl of still boiling soup, and swore .
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