Obsidian
Chapter Two: The Mission


"Lady Tsunade," Asami acknowledged as she landed gracefully on the open windowsill. Instantly, she recognized Kakashi Hatake and Jirroko Yuhi standing in the center of the Hokage's office. Kakashi slouched against the wall, hands in his pockets, his visible eye half-lidded as if he were bored. In contrast, Jirroko stood tall, hands clasped behind his back, his red eyes alert. Asami noted the ponytail of raven hair on Jirroko—an addition since their last interaction.

"Asami," Lady Tsunade said, motioning for her to step inside. Asami descended from the windowsill, momentarily locking eyes with Jirroko. Taking her place between the two jōnin, Asami fought against the wave of guilt that threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of Jirroko. Their friendship had eroded swiftly after Asami joined ANBU, and while Jirroko had made efforts to salvage it, she had made that difficult.

"Thank you, Shizune," Lady Tsunade nodded as her assistant closed the window.

"No one can know about this mission," Lady Tsunade continued, folding her hands on her desk. "A few months ago, an ANBU squad reported something unusual: several dead shinobi, drained of their chakra."

"What's so unusual about that?" Kakashi asked, shifting his weight casually.

"The seal found on their bodies," Lady Tsunade replied. Shizune crossed the room, handing each jōnin a series of photographs. Asami grimaced at the sight of the corpses but maintained her composure as she studied the seal.

"I don't recognize this seal," Asami finally admitted.

"Neither do I," Jirroko added, his voice steady.

"It's not in any history book," Lady Tsunade revealed. "Someone has created a seal that drains every last drop of chakra."

"These are Iwa-nin," Jirroko stated, his tone tinged with resentment. "Why is this a concern for Konoha?" Asami noticed the undercurrent of animosity, though it seemed lost on the others.

"The bodies were found near Amegakure…" Lady Tsunade trailed off, her gaze turning to Asami.

"And it resembles my clan's kekkei genkai," Asami concluded. Lady Tsunade nodded curtly, bringing her hands to her mouth in contemplation.

"Thankfully, the ANBU squad disposed of the bodies, but this could become a serious issue for us," Lady Tsunade continued. "I need you three to investigate all possibilities."

Asami frowned, her voice sharp. "A Soma did not do this."

Jirroko's mouth parted in shock, taken aback by Asami's defiance. He had always been the one with a short fuse; Asami was the steady hand, focused on the mission and respectful of authority.

"I didn't say they did," Lady Tsunade countered, raising an eyebrow at the kunoichi.

"You insinuated it. My clan pledged its loyalty to Konoha when your grandfather founded the village, Hokage-sama. We would not betray Konoha," Asami asserted, her voice unwavering.

Kakashi smirked beneath his mask, both impressed and amused by Asami's boldness. Her rebellious streak reminded him of a younger version of himself, drawing him in and leaving him intrigued. Their paths had crossed before both due to their respective senseis and friends, but nothing that had left a lasting impression.

Kakashi also wondered if Asami harbored any resentment toward him. He had failed to protect Kushina, her sensei. He had heard through the grapevine about Asami's teammate, Yuki Kato, who died during the Third Shinobi World War. Gai had told him while he was recovering in the hospital. Asami had been just twelve, newly promoted to chūnin when their squad was ambushed by Kiri-nin. Under extreme pressure, she awakened her Baizōgan. Jirroko and Asami had executed a flawless plan, trapping their enemy in a joint genjutsu while Yuki disarmed them.

But then something had gone wrong. Gai didn't know the details, having heard multiple versions over the years.

"Yet three Iwa-nin were drained of their chakra," Lady Tsunade pressed, lowering her hands. "And the only clan known to possess such a kekkei genkai is the Soma clan. You see my predicament, don't you?"

Asami gritted her teeth, reminding herself to keep her composure in front of the Hokage. "That is not our seal," she replied, her voice taut. "What would my clan gain from draining Iwa-nin of their chakra?"

Kakashi noted Asami's restraint, admiring her nobility even as the tension thickened.

"Doesn't your kekkei genkai allow you to absorb your opponent's jutsu?" Shizune interjected, glancing between Lady Tsunade and Asami. Kakashi was surprised by Shizune's boldness; her time with Lady Tsunade seemed to have transformed her. Asami's body tensed slightly, a quick twitch of her hands revealing her unease.

Kakashi made the connection. Asami's teammate, Yumi Kato, was Shizune's sister.

"There's no use if the user doesn't have that chakra nature. Most of my clan has a lightning affinity," Asami replied, her violet eyes darkening.

"Most?" Shizune pressed.

"None with Earth Release," Asami hissed.

Kakashi stepped away from the wall, allowing his hands to drop to his sides. He glanced at Lady Tsunade, aware of the escalating tension. Shizune was skilled, but she was no match for Asami. Kakashi hoped the Hokage would intervene; a scuffle would only delay his plans. He wanted to visit the Memorial Stone before his training session with Naruto.

"Enough!" Lady Tsunade slammed her fist down, cracking her desk. With a sigh, she continued, "I'm not accusing you of this atrocity."

"Yet you accuse my clan without reason. I cannot fathom my clan betraying Konoha. I apologize if I was out of line, Hokage-sama," Asami replied, her tone steady but sharp.

"I have to be certain that no one from the Leaf was involved," Lady Tsunade justified. Asami's shoulders slumped slightly as she pressed her lips into a firm line, the frustration palpable.

"I need all three of you to work together and gather more information on this matter," Lady Tsunade concluded, reiterating, "No one can know about this mission."

"Hai," the three jōnin confirmed in unison.

"We'll strategize a plan once we have more information," Lady Tsunade said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand.

As they exited her office, Lady Tsunade sighed, glancing at her broken desk.

"Shizune, tell Yamato I need a new desk again."


Asami crouched on the rooftop ledge, bringing a cigarette to her lips. Jirroko shot her a glance, scrunching his nose slightly. She hesitated, fiddling with the lighter in her hand, and then glanced at Kakashi, who was absorbed in a well-worn copy of Icha Icha. Asami frowned, quietly judging his choice of reading material.

"We have to rule out that the Soma clan is behind this," Jirroko said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of urgency.

"Agreed," Asami replied, keeping the unlit cigarette between her lips. "I'll start with some recon in my clan's compound."

"I'll reach out to my contacts about that seal," Jirroko suggested, casting a wary glance at Kakashi. "Kakashi?"

Kakashi hummed, tearing his gaze away from his book, and finally acknowledging the tension hung in the air.

"What's your plan?" Jirroko asked, tilting his head.

"Well, I was thinking of taking a walk—"

"We mean about the mission," Asami snapped, irritation bubbling just below the surface. Her fingers toyed with the lighter as Kakashi's visible eye shut and a weary smile tugged underneath his mask.

"Oh, right," Kakashi chuckled, the sound hollow. "I'll do some research."

Before Asami could respond, Jirroko sighed and nodded. "Let's regroup once we have a lead, agreed?"

"Hai."

With a swift leap, Kakashi vanished, leaving Asami and Jirroko alone on the rooftop.

"You can light it, you know," Jirroko muttered, eyeing the unlit cigarette, but Asami barely registered the words.

She finally raised the lighter, glancing at him. Jirroko had changed—he was stronger and more composed, yet the pain in his eyes hinted at the scars he still carried. The air between them felt charged, thick with unspoken grievances.

"I didn't know you smoked," Jirroko said, attempting to break the silence, but his voice wavered.

"Bad habit I picked up in ANBU," Asami replied, her tone flat. It felt like a wall between them, built brick by brick since that fateful day.

"ANBU, right…" Jirroko's voice dropped, the topic heavy with unhealed wounds. After the chaos of the Third Shinobi World War and the Nine-Tails Attack, Asami abandoned him, leaving him to face the aftermath alone. Yumi had died, and their sensei, Kushina, had been taken from them. When Jirroko had needed her most, she had chosen to forge a new path, turning her back on their shared past. The guilt gnawed at Asami, an insistent reminder of her failures.

"Jirroko—" she started, the words catching in her throat. "I'm—"

"Asami, just stop," he interrupted, his voice sharper than intended and the frustration evident in his red eyes, "We don't need to do this."

Asami's breath hitched, and she took a drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling in the cold air. Her heart ached at his anger, a reflection of her own self-loathing.

Jirroko's expression softened slightly, but the pain lingered. "I don't hate you," he finally said quietly, but his voice trembled.

"You should," Asami whispered, uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy.

"I don't hate you, 'Sami," Jirroko said, his voice low but unwavering, carrying the weight of years of unresolved tension.

Asami fought the appeal to cry, those words landing like a gentle balm on wounds she had buried deep. It felt as if a genjutsu had been broken, lifting a burden she hadn't even realized she was carrying. "You... you don't?" Her voice trembled, the vulnerability surfacing like a crack in her armor.

"No," he affirmed, tilting his head back to take in the vast expanse of blue sky, the sunlight casting a warm glow over them, contrasting the shadows in their hearts. "I've never hated you. I carried a lot of anger for a long time, and I misdirected a lot of it toward you. I guess I owe you an apology." He chuckled softly, though it was laced with a bittersweet ache. "Back when we were kids, I trained relentlessly, always trying to surpass you. I thought proving myself, even just once, would earn me some respect and validation. Without really knowing you, I painted a picture of who I thought you were—a rival to conquer, a foe to defeat."

Asami stayed silent, her heart racing as she absorbed his words, urging him to continue. The memories of their childhood swirled around them, each moment filled with laughter, competition, and the unspoken bond that had once tethered them together.

"It wasn't until our first C-Rank mission, when you finally spoke to me, that I realized how different you were from the Asami I had conjured in my mind. You were strong, yes, but also kind and thoughtful in ways I had overlooked." He shifted his weight, the shadows of the past looming over them both. "I was never angry at you. We were just kids, 'Sami, swept up in a war we didn't start and couldn't fully grasp. I was angry because I felt powerless—powerless to protect Yumi or Kushina-sensei when they needed us most."

His words struck a deep chord within her, unlocking emotions she hadn't dared to confront in years—shame, guilt, and a longing for redemption. Each syllable felt like a key turning in a lock she thought she had sealed shut.

As Jirroko's voice softened, he looked at her with an intensity that made her heart ache. "I realize now that my anger wasn't about you; it was about my own failures, my inability to shield the ones I cared for. I should have been there for you, but instead, I turned away, lost in my own bitterness."

Asami felt a swell of conflicting emotions—relief, sorrow, and an almost desperate longing for connection. "I thought I was being strong, that I was doing what was best for both of us when I joined ANBU. I convinced myself it was the right choice, that I could protect everyone better that way. But I left you behind, and I've regretted it every single day."

Jirroko seemed taken aback by her honesty, his expression softening further. "You had your reasons, 'Sami. We were both trying to survive in a world that felt increasingly chaotic, a world that had turned our childhood into something unrecognizable. You were just trying to find your own path, and I resented you for it, even when I didn't fully understand why."

As the air thickened with their shared memories, Jirroko continued, his voice steady but vulnerable. "But I won't make that same mistake again. I'm stronger now, and I will protect you and the Hidden Leaf." His eyes bore into hers, a promise sealed with the weight of their shared history.

Asami's heart swelled with a mix of emotions—grief for the lost years, hope for what lay ahead.

"Together," Asami finally said, reminding them of their shared promise.

The word hung between them, charged with possibility. It was a fragile hope, yet it shimmered like a beacon in the darkness they had both endured.

"Together," Jirroko repeated.

In that moment, they both understood that while the scars of their past would always remain, they were not defined by them. They could move forward, stronger and more united than ever before, forging a new bond that honored their shared history while embracing the promise of a brighter future.


The Soma compound buzzed with activity, the makeshift training grounds alive with smaller children who gawked at Asami's flak jacket and forehead protector. As she ventured deeper into the heart of the compound, she was greeted by warm smiles from elders and clan members.

Her earlier conversation with Jirroko had ignited something within her—an ember of connection long extinguished. She found herself savoring the summer breeze, the laughter of younger kids, and even the elders' unsolicited advice. This unexpected penance wrapped around her like a comforting cloak, bringing a sense of peace she hadn't realized she was yearning for.

"Hello," Asami called out, removing her sandals and placing them beside a pair of her father's worn ones. Asami had entered through the kitchen's backdoor, hoping to find her mother.

"'Sami? Is that you?" A deep voice called out from the kitchen.

"Kyo?" Asami responded, stepping into the kitchen. Her younger brother stood at the table, taller than she remembered. He enveloped her in a warm embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her fit frame.

"'Sami! When did you come back?" Kyo asked, pulling away to look at her. Asami realized how much he had grown in her absence. His spiky raven hair framed his face, a short ponytail at the nape of his neck—a rite of passage for Soma clan members who awakened their Baizōgan.

"You're a jōnin now?" Asami asked, gesturing towards the pristine flak jacket lazily strung over a kitchen chair.

"No," Kyo admitted, chuckling, "Not all of us are child prodigies. I was promoted to chunin after the exams."

"Congratulations, Kyo."

Kyo returned to his seat, stirring his ramen with chopsticks. "Thank you, Big Sis."

Their sibling bond had always been strong. Kyo was generally well-behaved, save for his love of pranks—which Asami secretly enjoyed, unless she was the target. Even during the darkest days of her spiral, Kyo had managed to bring light into her life. They both valued family, with no sibling rivalry or jealousy overshadowing their relationship.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" Asami asked, glancing around the kitchen. The familiar space seemed largely unchanged, save for a few subtle details.

"Shopping in town. Aunt Hishi is joining us for dinner," Kyo explained.

Hatayoshi, their mother, had married Yomichi Soma, the respected clan head, uniting their fates in a powerful bond steeped in tradition and expectation. Yomichi was known for his wisdom and strength, traits that both inspired and intimidated his family. Hatayoshi, on the other hand, was a beacon of warmth and nurturing, often striving to balance the rigid expectations of clan life with the emotional needs of her children.

Hironishi, Hatayoshi's younger sister, had followed a similar path, marrying Yomichi's younger brother, Tomichi. Their marriages created a tight-knit familial bond, one that was celebrated and revered within the clan. Both sisters became pregnant around the same time, and Hatayoshi gave birth to Asami first, a child heralded as a prodigy even before she could walk. Her early achievements—graduating from the Academy at the astonishing age of eight—set a high bar for expectations within the family.

Kyami followed soon after, born into a world where she was constantly compared to her cousin. Asami, the clan heir, was celebrated for her talents and fierce determination, while Kyami, who belonged to the branch house, struggled to find her footing. The elders often spoke of Asami's accomplishments in hushed, reverent tones, casting a shadow over Kyami's more modest achievements. This relentless comparison created a rift between them, a strain that deepened as they grew older. Where Asami thrived under the expectations placed on her, Kyami felt the pressure crushing her, a burden that turned admiration into resentment.

The Academy days were particularly difficult for Kyami. While Asami excelled in her training, mastering complex techniques with ease, Kyami struggled with her jutsu and often found herself in the shadows of her cousin's brilliance. This constant overshadowing turned their interactions into a series of strained encounters, each tinged with unspoken feelings. For Kyami, every compliment directed at Asami felt like another reminder of her own perceived failures.

The situation only worsened with the untimely death of Tomichi during the Third Shinobi World War. His loss reverberated through the family, leaving a palpable void that neither cousin knew how to address. Asami returned from the war alive, a survivor amidst the chaos, while Kyami remained haunted by the family's grief. The rift between them widened further; while Asami was seen as a hero, Kyami felt like an afterthought, a stark reminder of what they had lost.

Hatayoshi, ever the peacemaker, often invited the mother and daughter pair for dinner, emphasizing the importance of family unity. But the warmth of those gatherings was often overshadowed by the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings. Asami felt the push and pull of their dynamic and at one point, even wished she could bridge the gap, to reach out and offer support, but the complexities of their relationship held her back. The familial bond, once a source of happiness, had transformed into a painful reminder of their differences.

"Also promoted to chunin," Kyo revealed, slurping his noodles with unabashed enthusiasm, the sound filling the kitchen with an almost comical echo.

Asami did not hide the shock from her face. Kyo noticed, adding, "And she awakened her Baizōgan."

"Wow, really? That's... that's..." Asami trailed off unsure.

"I know," Kyo nodded, "Weird. She says she was training and it awakened, but father doesn't believe her."

The famed kekkei genkai of the Soma clan: the Baizōgan. One eye possesses the Eye of Damnation and the other possesses the Eye of Enlightenment.

The right eye, the Eye of Enlightenment, grants the user incredible photographic capabilities, to see the chakra pathway system, and copy seal-related techniques as well as jutsus. The wielder must have the chakra capacity to recreate the seal and the elemental affinity to execute the jutsu. Given their ability to see chakra, the Soma's are natural trackers.

The left eye, the Eye of Damnation, allows the wielder to absorb chakra, infusing it with "Dark Chakra", and expelling it to cast a genjutsu. When used correctly, the wielder is capable of expelling the Dark Chakra into their victim and taking control of their five senses through a powerful genjutsu. The "Dark Chakra" is created by combining the newly absorbed chakra with negative emotions.

The Baizōgan is influenced and powered by the wielder's emotions and chakra control. Too much emotion causes glitches in the genjutsu, allowing the victim time to free themselves. In severe cases, the wielder can go blind or even die from chakra depletion. It is very occasional for a Soma to use both eyes at once, but possible. The Eye of Enlightenment is merely activated at will, while the Eye of Damnation will only activate with the release of a seal. A Soma's eyes will glow a deep purple once either or both eyes are activated.

The Baizōgan is activated during a traumatic or negative experience, thus the basis of the Dark Chakra. The Baizōgan wielder is vulnerable to short-range attacks, chakra depletion, and going blind.


Asami had left her clan's compound, her feet moving almost on autopilot as she wandered through Konoha. The vibrant colors of the village blurred into an indistinct backdrop as her mind wrestled with the weight of her thoughts. After two hours of aimless walking, she stopped at the Yamanaka Flower Shop, picking up two bouquets—one vibrant with sunflowers, the other soft and white with lilies—before finding herself standing before the Memorial Stone.

Without much thought, her hand reached out to trace the engraved names of Yumi Kato and Kushina Uzumaki. The touch felt familiar yet heavy, each name a reminder of a past filled with shared laughter and unending support. As she set the bouquets at the base of the stone, she found solace in the emptiness of the Memorial Site, a quiet refuge from the chaos of her thoughts.

With a deep sigh, Asami faced the memorial, allowing the gravity of her loss to wash over her once more. "Kushina-sensei," she began, her voice trembling. "I wish you were here to help me… understand things. I feel so lost and alone." She sniffled, the tears she'd tried to hold back spilling over as she furiously wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I can only imagine how you must've felt," Asami continued, her tone shifting between reverence and despair. "But you never once wavered. I am your student, so I will follow your lead." Clenching her teeth, she fought against the sob that threatened to escape her throat. "And Yumi… you wouldn't believe it, but Jirroko's all grown up now. You would be so proud of him. He was earlier than me today for a mission debrief."

The memory of Jirroko's determination sparked a fleeting smile, but it quickly morphed into a laugh that caught in her throat. Asami's laughter twisted into sobs, the tension in her chest breaking free as she gasped for air, gripping her stomach as if it could contain her overwhelming emotions. "B-but I don't want either of you to worry, so don't, okay? Don't worry about us!" she gasped, wiping her face again, a futile attempt to reclaim her composure.

As the summer breeze fluttered past, carrying with it a hint of floral fragrance, Asami slowly steadied her breathing. She tilted her head back, letting the warmth wash over her, grateful for the moment of peace. But just as she found some semblance of calm, her senses heightened. A faint rustle caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to see a silver-haired jōnin casually perched on a nearby bench, his gaze locked on a worn novel.

Heat radiated to Asami's cheeks as the realization hit her: Kakashi Hatake had witnessed her emotional breakdown. The embarrassment swirled within her, making her feel exposed in a way she never expected. As if sensing her discomfort, Kakashi raised a fingerless-glove-clad hand in a casual greeting, still engrossed in his book.

Feeling embarrassed, Asami executed the Body Flicker Technique, leaving a puff of smoke in her wake. Kakashi watched her disappear, a flicker of concern knitting his brow. He closed the book slowly, feeling an unexpected weight in his chest.

As he sat in silence, Kakashi reflected on what he had just witnessed. Asami, the heir of the Soma clan—a prodigy with immense potential—had shown a vulnerability that struck a deep chord within him. He understood that pain, that sense of isolation, all too well. They both carried the burden of expectations, navigating a world marred by loss and duty.

While he often hid behind his mask, Kakashi felt a kinship with Asami, one forged in shared experiences of grief and survival. He'd lost too many people, faced too many battles, and yet here was this young kunoichi, grappling with her own demons. It stirred something within him—a yearning for understanding, perhaps even for redemption.

But the idea of reaching out felt complicated. Kakashi's heart ached with a familiar mix of longing and fear. He had spent years building walls to protect himself from the weight of loss, to avoid the pain of attachment. Yet watching Asami struggle made him question whether that was the right path. Was he really any different from her? Wasn't he also lost, navigating a world that felt increasingly devoid of meaning?

The idea of helping her ignited a small flame in the depths of his heart, pushing against the shadows that often clouded his thoughts. Perhaps he could offer guidance, a steady hand amid the chaos of their shared experiences.

But as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over Konoha, he felt the familiar pull of hesitation. Could he truly help someone else when he still felt so broken himself? The battle between his instinct to retreat and his desire to connect raged within him, leaving him to wonder if he could ever bridge that gap.

With a deep breath, Kakashi stood from the bench, taking one last glance at the Memorial Stone. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a reminder that even in darkness, light could find its way.

He walked away slowly, his thoughts a tangled web of uncertainty and longing. Asami had left an impression on him—one that whispered of potential and the possibility of salvation, not just for her, but for himself as well.