Sakura, Juro, Jiraiya, Minato, Obito, Rin, Kushina, Orochimaru and Kakashi all crowded together in the same room, staring at the last occupant of the room—Tsunade—as she silently ran diagnostics over the youngest's frail body.
"Well, he definitely has the Six-Tails in him."
Sakura held back an inappropriate smirk while Jiraiya rolled his eyes. "No kidding. That's what the kid said he did. Is it safe?"
"Yes. This is actually—did you use my notes?"
"Um, yes. I—sorry for not replying. Just got, you know, um, busy. But I read all of it."
Kushina, from her position slumped on Minato's shoulder, hummed. "We've been talking, now that we're both on the same front. Ideas… came in useful, earlier than intended."
"You should be asleep."
"Not until… safe. Have to, stay up, just in case."
"Well, I'm telling you, it's safe." Tsunade snapped. "The Beast has exhausted itself, the seal looks perfectly functional anyway, and you can't even manage to keep your eyes open." She pointed at one of the seats—empty, just like all of the others, as every shinobi in the room chose to stand. "Sleep. You too, Rin."
"I'm—I'm fine!"
Rin was not fine. Sakura didn't even have to sense to tell that Rin had chakra exhaustion. But Rin was a teenager, in the same room as several of her idols.
If it weren't for Obito pushing her into a seat, then sitting down himself, Sakura was sure the fight wouldn't have ended there. As it was, the blinded boy kept one of her hands in his and, after a pause, she slumped against the wall, admitting defeat.
"Again, it looks safe to me. Surprisingly good work, given the speed. I do think—Jiraiya, come here—"
"Oh, yeah, I see." Jiraiya hummed. "A secondary ring might be needed, so that Kakashi can more easily access the power, because this assumes an Uzumaki's level of innate chakra, but that's not urgent—only matters when Kakashi starts to train with it, and considering he'll probably be conked out for at least a few more days…"
Minato squinted at the seal, then nodded. "Him using it wasn't my primary concern at the time. Good to know it's fixable. I think... I think I'll pause training for all three of my chuunin, until this gets sorted out and Obito's ready again, then train them as a group again."
He glanced at Rin, who cracked her eyes open long enough to nod.
"You're still training them as a team?" Jiraiya asked, poking at a part of the seal with many symbols Sakura didn't recognize.
Sakura wasn't focused on the Sannin, however—when Rin nodded, she'd seen the boy next to her was already tensing. At Jiraiya's question, Obito tensed further, but the rest of his team seemed to exhausted to notice.
Minato hummed in agreement. "They work well together, cover each other's weaknesses, and now all three have new things to learn—Rin said she wanted to learn how to be a frontline fighter, too, and that's not what her past instruction was about."
At that Obito sat up straighter, nodding eagerly. "Kakashi's our tracker and assassin, I'm the heavy hitter and sealer, and Rin's the medic and social leader. The Hokage said we 'fill out' well, and can keep on working as a team when I—when I start training again."
Sealer? That was new. She wondered how they'd be compensating for his lack of vision, because certainly that hadn't been mentioned yet; perhaps fuinjutsu?
Jiraiya hummed, nodding absently as he kept inspecting the seal.
Juro, after a nod of permission, turned to Kakashi's head—he'd already spent the time checking out the other exhausted teen, and Minato and Kushina both refused any care.
"Alright, then you get some sleep too. I'm pretty sure the Hokage's just sent another Peace Delegation—the bombs were already a statement, but now Konoha's got two Jinchuuriki—so you might need to be awake for that tomorrow if they actually do the smart thing and agree to start negotiations. Can you get Kushina—?"
Kushina, fast asleep, barely twitched when Minato went to pick her up. He hesitated, however, looking down at Kakashi. Juro met his eyes. "I'll stay here all night, send you a message the second he gets close to waking." His eyes slid over to the other two kids. "Pretty sure I can swing them a couple cots too, but you need the good sleep of a bed."
Minato grimaced, then nodded.
There were sacrifices to being the future Hokage.
Sakura, who was only there because Orochimaru was, nodded as the man went to exit the room after Minato—he'd been silent, never a good thing, and she needed to keep an eye on him. Tsunade' and Jiraiya's chakra followed shortly after, leaving only Juro and the trio in the room.
Orochimaru wasted no time trying to lose her, but Sakura had practice.
She might not be anywhere as good a shinobi as he, but she knew how his mind worked—he couldn't escape that easily.
Almost in sync despite the dozens of people, buildings, and meters between them, the two of them wove through Konoha, first one way and then the next.
The ANBU appeared, made themselves visible as yet another warning to Orochimaru that he was being watched, and the man only moved quicker.
Sakura's own movements twisted to match—she had his journal, now nearly decrypted despite her lack of cypher, she had months working alongside him, and she had her warped memories of the future—she began turning before him, guessing before he even moved where he would go next.
He'd dismissed her already, that was clear enough, was focusing on the following ANBU; Sakura began gaining ground.
She had no reason to be particularly suspicious today, no new memories nor any obvious moves from Orochimaru, and yet the second she'd caught sight of him—
The man turned again, seemingly vanished, and Sakura ignored the lost chakra signature as she continued to head towards the Naka River.
Usually Orochimaru only put a half-hearted effort in to escape his watchers—but sometimes, on days like today, he'd actually get away from them for minutes, hours at a time.
Even the Hokage couldn't find him then.
The Naka River was roiling as she neared it. A recent storm, unusual for the season, had caused its water levels to surge, and now it sped even faster than usual to the faraway ocean, attempting to return to normal as quickly as possible.
Sakura followed the bends of the river, picking up on reflections of Orochimaru once, twice—
And then there was the wall.
She could, Sakura considered, mount the wall—the waterway had a gate underneath, specifically to avoid all but the most ardent contortionists from getting in or out—but dismissed the thought; it was too late in the day, and she still had so much to do before the sunset.
Her gut feeling was right, however; she now knew the direction he headed in.
The ANBU, suddenly next to her, nodded then took off once more—they had the scent, she supposed, and weren't about to let up.
(Sometimes Sakura thought it would help if she knew what he was doing. Other times Sakura remembered ROOT, remembered how kids were currently disappearing, remembered how despite committing treason Shimura Danzo was still free, still powerful, and—
She had to steel herself, then. Bolster up her hope enough to last against the tides of doubt.
It was just tricky.)
Shin sent her a letter, and Sakura read it as soon as she got home—he was being sent north, no surprise there, and regardless of the outcome would be able to stop by for a few weeks after.
She handed the letter to Ibiki the second he bounded in, his body a mess of dirt and bruises as he swelled with pride over whatever competition he'd just won—
He threw himself on her, thrilled that soon he'd be able to have all three living parents together.
(That was another thing on her to-do list, actually—Ibiki had a father. The thought continued to be put off, set aside for more urgent or more dire problems, but at some point she'd have to deal with that.)
For now, though, it was time for Ibiki to go to bed and Sakura to go back to work, testing various seals until she found one that did what it was supposed to.
A new day was mere hours away, and Sakura had to make the most of this one while it was still around.
.
Shin grimaced, glancing around the vast emptiness of the plains as the Konoha contingent waited for the arrival of the Kumo contingent.
They'd agreed to terms, and Konoha certainly had the advantage—the new jinchuuriki made sure of that.
The bombs were nice, yes, but only temporary; just as Konoha had managed to build their own railroad, Kumo would have no doubt expended more on explosives until they had the power to match.
The Tailed Beasts, on the other hand…
Few humans ever came close to those power, and the last person able to take them on single-handedly was the great Senju Hashirama himself.
A jailed Beast might be weaker than they would be free, but Konoha already had the most powerful of the Beasts and now the fourth most powerful too—
And Kumo still wasn't certain who held the Kyuubi.
(Kushina's name was frequently brought up, but her power was often explained away as Uzumaki; Minato's, given his lack of family history, was brought up even more often, as were several members of the Akimichi family and the Uchiha family. The uncertainty went a long way in the middle of a battle, was worth the sacrifice of Kushina going all out only when it could not be traced back to her, but now—now Konoha had two.)
The sensors signaled almost as one as the enemy contingent began their approach. Minato straightened, his formalwear making him look even more menacing than usual, and the various overpowered shinobi surrounding him—General Nara, Battalion Commander Uchiha, Diplomatic Ambassador Mitokado, Jounin Specialist Akimichi, even Shin himself (weaker, it was true, but also not without the ability to hold his own.)
They stood, flanked by sensors and guards, and waited.
Kumo led its party with two jinchuuriki.
Smart, Shin thought; makes it clear they are far from weak.
Nevertheless, there was a reason the Great Senju Hashirama felt safe giving all but the Nine-Tails away.
As was customary for these sort of things, greetings were slow and measured, allowing time for the tea each side brought to be blended together and prepared in front of dozens of watchful eyes.
Shin kept the sensors in his periphery, but none noticed anything amiss.
It was time for tea.
After yet more pleasantries, more custom, the purpose of the meeting was brought into focus.
No one stiffened, everyone was too well-trained for that, but Shin knew that everyone was tense enough to hurt, even if no one let it show.
The talk truly began.
They'd discussed, during the two day wait, how they wanted the meeting to go.
They'd planned out several strategies, several methods of attack.
It went far more smoothly than they ever could have planned.
As the outright Peace Treaty talks began to be hashed out, Shin's mind whirred over the possibilities for the ease.
There was, of course, the obvious: the bombs. The Beast. The unknown.
There was also—
What else was there?
Well, there was the technology, Shin considered. Kumo wasn't much of a slouch in that realm either, not with their railroads and traps and sensing system, but Konoha had already copied their railroad, found various imperfect means around their sensing system, and had grown increasingly unconcerned over the traps as they'd grown used to the various methods the Northern Nation employed.
There was also the question of resources; Kumo was a vast country with many, many different biomes within, but they were being harangued by Kiri on their East and the Land of Earth, distracted by their own war, wasn't exactly their best trade partner across the stormy sea in their West.
Konoha, on the other hand, was expanding, was unimpeded by Kiri pirates, was still actively trading quite significantly with the Land of Wind (both had resources the other didn't, and the passages between the two through the Land of Rivers were perfectly safe), and had finally overcome the severe drought which had crippled just about everything in the Land of Fire for a full year.
And then there was the matter of the purpose of the war—a power play, for two reasons: the perception of clients, and the perception of nations.
In terms of the clients, while most who hired shinobi simply paid for those that protected their lands—Konoha in Fire, Kumo in Lightning, and so on—the most profitable missions came from merchants, nobles, and even those religious men and women wanted something perhaps a little immoral done.
It was up to the various Villages, then, to market their services as competitively as possible. Konoha emphasized their kinder nature, appealing to those generally distrustful of shinobi, while Iwa emphasized sheer power output. Suna promoted their ability to blend in, Kiri their water-related skills. Kumo mainly promoted their shinobi as intelligent, as quick to take advantage of opportunities that might benefit their employer.
Despite all of these different emphases, however, at the end of the day the most important thing a Village had to prove was the ability of their shinobi to hold their own.
Kumo, by managing the war as long as they had, longer than anyone else, had done just that.
And in terms of the power showing other Nations, the very much spoken threat of what might happen if any attempt to go against Kumo?
Iwa was destroyed, twice in a row already and (based on reports) were barely managing to hold their own in the third.
Kiri had barely been involved at all, now seemed like easy prey if it weren't for the complication of the ocean.
Suna had a good showing, had even managed to literally get their river back, and were still putting up a good showing in the West.
Konoha (to Shin' and his comrades' everlasting pleasure) came out best.
Kumo, even if it conceded here and now, wouldn't actually come out looking that bad.
Certainly no one would consider them an easy target.
In fact—
Shin tuned back in, listening as Minato expertly danced around a few phrasings that would absolutely not make the final cut of the treaty, and eyed the Kumo-nin speculatively.
Despite all of those reasons, this really was an easy acquiescence.
If you assumed the next state of affairs would be peace.
Kumo had clearly already planned on digging in for the long haul, had an entire army still at the front and their propaganda to consider –
But if they simply made peace with Konoha, and then went after another target, say one of their former allies…
Iwa was distracted in the west.
Kiri was a constant thorn in Kumo's side, Civil War or no.
Shin's mind whirred.
Given that Kumo couldn't get to the Land of Earth over land without going through several of Konoha's minor nation allies, which wouldn't exactly be against the rules based on the treaty currently being written, and given that Ishi-ka Bay's weather meant a sea-route was very unlikely—
Shin coughed, quietly, once, and no Konoha-nin around him visibly reacted.
The Kumo-nin did—were alert to the chance he was signaling and unafraid to let him know that—but there was no more signals from him, no visible response at all from anyone around him.
Minato was a very good diplomat.
It would take at least another half-hour, if not more, for them to notice that progress had ground to a halt.
After they retired for the day, made plans to continue the talks the following morning, Shin would follow Minato into his office alongside the many other advisors.
He wouldn't wait for his Sensei's assessment of the various Kumo-nin and the likely politics, on the various commander's read on the military situation.
His cough meant he would be allowed to speak first.
He'd sit, pour himself a cup of tea, and then explain his reasonings, explain what he was pretty sure he'd figure out.
And then, late into the night—so late it became morning—they would plan out exactly how to trick, convince, entice, encourage, incite, and/or otherwise support Kumo into making the right decision:
Don't attack Iwa, all the way in the West with miles of Konoha-protected territory in between—
Go after Kiri, the constant needling pest that wouldn't leave them alone.
The Hidden Village eating itself from the inside out—at a complete disadvantage.
Go after the Land of Water, and the endless amount of ocean and island resources, and the far more peaceful sea, and the complete lack of opposition outside of the recently-turned-pirate nation.
Shin didn't allow even a ghost of a smirk to touch his face, but—despite what would no doubt be many hard days of work to get there—the idea of setting one enemy against another was enough to make anyone smile.
.
"What was it like?" A voice whispered.
Kakashi, from his position in the medical bed, grimaced. Ren answered for them both; "Bad."
"It wasn't so much," she continued after a couple seconds of silence, "or rather just, the fear, of what it could do, though there was that too. It was mainly…"
Kakashi cleared his throat, picked up the thread of the sentence. "An uncontrolled Beast has this sort of aura, this sort of feeling of constant danger, of impending doom. I don't have it around me now—the Rokubi is still wiped out from the battle—but it'll start recovering soon and Kushina says I'll feel like that, too, at first. Like… like a threat, under my own skin." Kakashi swallowed. "That's why we're being sent out of the village for training, once Sensei gets back. To get my time to learn."
"You'll feel it, then," Rin told Obito. "So be prepared."
A second, then another, of silence.
Kakashi strained to hear any movement from his older teammates.
"Sensei—they said that he and, um, everyone else, had to fix your seal, when he got back. So that you can learn how to use the power."
Kakashi nodded, felt like an idiot, and spoke. "Yeah."
"Do you—" Obito started, his voice halting before suddenly stopping altogether. Another second's pause, a dry swallow, then "Never mind."
"What is it?" Rin asked from her position on the cot closest to the door—she was the one in charge of getting whatever they needed, nominally because she knew her way around the hospital but really because neither boy could even safely find their way down the hallway right now.
"It's nothing." Obito said, more firmly.
Except—
Except he sounded choked up.
Emotions, people, weren't really Kakashi's thing—never had been—but this was his team. This was his family. His mind raced, as Rin tried carefully prodding for an answer again. Obito had asked about the seal, but he didn't seem afraid of Kakashi, didn't seem jealous either, and they'd all be training together anyway—
"It's nothing!" Obito said, perhaps slightly louder than he'd intended.
Kakashi had no idea why that made it click.
He sat up.
"Sensei showed us the designs for the seal he was telling you about the day before the attack. He's got a couple options, but I liked the one that sent out waves of sub-audible noise out."
"Really?" Rin said, her voice sounding to all the world as someone who disagreed with him. "I liked the one of sending vibrations through the earth. He said the range was almost three times better, for that one."
"He said it'd probably be three times better," Kakashi said. "And, I dunno, I figured—with my hounds, we could communicate to each other using the seal, you know? The enemy wouldn't see it coming."
"That does sound cool." Obito said. No one mentioned the tears apparent in his voice, the smile apparent in his tone.
Still, Kakashi didn't want there to be any misunderstandings: "Sensei's a whiz with seals, and he's got so many other people who do seals really well too. We're both getting new seals, Obito, and we're both—we're both going to get to fight again."
And then Kakashi had a massive crying teen on top of him, scrabbling for the younger boy's shoulders and holding him tight, and found himself questioning several life decisions.