Ryoma grimaced, moving over to the second tank of the blood suckers and grabbing the provided tongs. He knew why they had to breed them, knew they had to test the theoretical seals on live subjects, but every time he saw them, he imagined them in his bed, imagined them biting him, imagined—
He shook himself. He needed to finish one more control tank, and then he'd be done. His brother was taking him out to eat tonight (it being the first time he was even in town for more than one night in months) and Ryoma had to stop letting the bed bugs get to him.
…It was hard, though.
…He really wished the Aburame had volunteered to do this part.
All the tanks complete and closed, the various seals activated, and start times noted on each sheet, Ryoma closed and locked the lab doors.
The ramen restaurant that Ryoma had suggested was not too far away, but Ryoma took to the walls anyway; it was less crowded than the streets, and his brother was the type to always arrive early.
Sure enough, Ryota was standing right outside the door, flipping through a BINGO book as he waited.
"Ryota!" Ryoma called. Ryota looked up, smiled. Closed the book.
"Good to see you, brother."
"Good to see you too. I, um, made a reservation. We could ask if they'll let us in early?"
Ramen Ichiraku was able to fit them in, and soon enough they were pressed together on two bar stools, catching each other up over the din of the other diners.
"…and is that the new BINGO book?"
"Iwa's, yeah. Just made it in—C-rank threat. Pretty proud of that, given how we Shimura don't really look like anybody."
"It's good to make it in?"
"I mean, it has pros and cons. A lot of nobles want to hire people in BINGO books because they think it's a sign of competence, and it is definitely a sign that you're good enough to be perceived as a threat, but it also means you have to be a lot more careful and there's a bigger target on your back. And your family's, too, but that's only if you really get up there."
"Maybe you'll be that strong in a few years," Ryoma said. His brother was a very good ninja, after all, and Ryoma couldn't imagine any enemy not being afraid of him. Ryota only laughed, though.
"I, I don't really think so. I mean, I'm good at what I do, but that's pretty much just frontline stuff, where the danger is obvious. I'm not like the Hokage, able to pull out new tricks in every fight, and I'm not… like, my 'danger' isn't hidden."
"Hidden?"
"Yeah. Take for example my old classmate Yamanaka Sakura. You know, the Co-Head—I mean, Co-Director," Ryota corrected, remembering the new job title rollout, "of Research. She is… like, she's not a powerhouse; she'd not combat-focused at all; she doesn't look like much… but Iwa's got her at S-rank. And I honestly agree. She more-or-less runs the economy of all of our neighboring nations, and she does quite a bit for ours, too. And then there's Research, and even though it's split across a lot of different departments, now, it keeps on making the most fantastic things imaginable—under her eye.
"She's good enough, strong enough, enough of a threat that I hope she and her family are up on their defense skills, because they will absolutely be targeted.
"Saying that, I'm pretty sure one of her sisters is married to the Yamanaka Head, so maybe they were already aware of the danger."
"She's not better than you, though," Ryoma contradicted, because book-smarts was one thing but his brother was fight-smart and that was what kept you alive, kept Konoha funded.
Ryota tilted his head back and forth, considering. "You know, depending on how much she's kept up with the physical side of training, I'm not sure. I won against her quite a bit when we were both kids, but she's got seals, now, and as you well know, those can do damage."
Ryoma had seals.
Ryoma even had combat seals.
Not ones of his own design, but ones that he knew how to use, that he practiced using.
And Ryoma knew that his various teachers had encouraged him not to market that skill, to try to keep it on the down low, but—
"Is it really that uncommon? Not to use seals? Doesn't everybody?"
"Around here? Sure. I mean, Research pumps out enough of the basic ones that everyone has a little bit of experience. But in other countries? No. Like, sealing was considered a rare art, you know. There were the Uzumaki, who taught enough people in Konoha that we became kind-of known for it too, but not, like, absurd numbers, or anything."
"Why?"
"Sealing takes a lot of time, kid. To learn to the point of even being able to make one seal, and then to make every individual seal after. Most hidden villages, most clans, they prioritized combat readiness, prioritized clan skills. We do too, of course, but Konoha was the first village to offer a spot in the Academy to anyone, and that meant a whole lot of kids who wouldn't really be good ninja in the traditional sense.
"And even then, most of those kids dropped out instead of trying to make something in Research or whatever. It wasn't until Konoha officially started offering sealing jobs as a safe, less physically-taxing alternative to ninja—with the same benefits—that mass-produced seals even became possible."
Some part of Ryoma knew that.
He was pretty sure, anyway.
Some part of him remembered that seals weren't talked about much when he started the Academy, became more and more of a focus every year.
But… well, he guessed he thought that was because he was getting older, not because Konoha was changing.
"Does that mean… I could take you on?"
Ryota laughed. "In your dreams. How about we test out your skills after dinner? Can't have you getting rusty, after all."
Ryoma ducked his head, grinned.
It was nice having his brother around, and he'd take as much time as he could while he still had the chance.
.
They were targeting the engine, now.
Ebisu really didn't know why it took them so long.
Maybe… maybe they hadn't known the engine was important? Maybe they only realized when it became obvious they were trying to protect it?
Regardless, they were targeting the engine now.
It would be mere moments—certainly less than a minute—before the engine exploded, before the train would crash.
And then—
(The enemies were getting weaker, were using fire jutsu less often, but so many of them hadn't used any offensive jutsu at all, had only protected from their attacks. There were fifteen enemies, total, and only seven of them, and they were mostly very young, mostly still genin.
(Not great odds.)
Ebisu clenched his teeth, using chakra to keep himself attached as the train rocked from another attack.
"Where did the jounin go?" he called to Aoba.
Aoba shook his head; he didn't know.
Ebisu really wished they'd be kept in the loop, but the jounin clearly wasn't going to bother with that. Maybe he told Asahi—maybe—but genin? Definitely not.
They had their job, anyway. They were to protect the back half of the train, try to keep the resources and the bodies safe from robbery.
(What was the point?
(There were fifteen of them.)
Asahi and the jounin had been at the front, hitting the enemies, but now it was only Asahi, and the jounin's students were inside the trains, running through the cars and collecting whatever they could in everybody's seals.
Given the size of the train, Ebisu imagined they'd run out of room quickly.
What could they do, though?
What else was there to do?
What—
The explosion rocked everybody back, even pushed back the enemy due to the sheer size, the sheer heat, the sheer power. The first car was almost entirely destroyed, and Asahi had only barely managed to dive out of the way in time, scrambled and scrabbled to grab onto the side of the next car, hang off with all the strength his chakra and hands had, survive the jerk.
Ebisu's heart stayed in his throat even after Asahi climbed back on top.
Was the jounin in the explosion?
Would—
Would they be facing the onslaught alone?
Was the conductor dead too?
Would their backup ever come?
It was too late for those thoughts. The enemy was approaching and Ebisu thought quickly. "Asahi!" he shouted. He sprinted, flying to Asahi's side as quickly as possible. "Start powering up your lightning jutsu," Ebisu said. "I'll keep you safe until we're surrounded and then get out."
It was an awful idea. A terrible idea.
They didn't have any better ones.
"I only have enough strength for one more," Asahi warned.
"I'll rescue you after."
"Fine, fine." Asahi said. "Let's—this car is basically empty, now, but they don't know that. Let's lure them here."
Ebisu nodded; that made sense.
He stood, telegraphing a defensive posture. So did Asahi. Instead of heading towards the end of the train, where the remaining valuables were, they defended nothing.
The ploy worked.
Almost all the enemies split off, headed towards them, and Ebisu hoped the rest of the genin would reappear soon, would help Aoba fend the few remaining off from the actual resources.
And then—
He'd never been surrounded before.
Not really.
He'd had to fight against an oversized group, before, but not—
Not like this.
Not with no room to breathe.
Not with opponents so clearly practiced in working together.
Not—
(Nine seconds. That's how long it took before a gash carved into his stomach. He kept fighting anyway—what else could he do?—but his left hand stayed hugged to his torso, pressed his innards in.
(He'd never fought like this before.)
Asahi breathed, jerking as a jutsu got his leg, fire jutsu eating his skin, but completed the last hand sign.
(Twenty-three seconds. Ebisu was ready, body-flickered the very second he finished, but twenty-three seconds had cost more than he'd thought; he felt washed out, felt empty.
(Was more surprised than he wanted to admit that the body flicker actually worked.)
The lightning jutsu spread, hitting every target, grabbing onto their nervous system and shaking it.
It wouldn't be enough.
Ebisu already knew that, already knew few if any enemies would go down.
He'd thought—
He'd thought—
He'd thought it would work until they were surrounded, until their enemies' true power became apparent.
He'd just sent his leader to his death.
But Ebisu had to try, anyway.
Had to rescue Asahi if there was even the slightest chance he could succeed.
He held his hands up, again, allowed his guts to begin to slip out, prepared, again, to body flicker, to force whatever chakra he had left to come out of hiding, do what he needed—
And the train shook.
And the Hokage—
(Some people could move fast.
(Could disappear and reappear in a blink.
(The Hokage made them look leisurely.)
In front of Ebisu's eyes three heads were cut clean off with one swipe of the Hokage's katana, his other hand shoving out in a clear wind jutsu, blasting every other enemy away from Asahi.
And then the Hokage was gone, and Ebisu's head whipped around, saw just in the corner of his eye as more enemies were cut down where they stood.
And then, because some of those blown back were still alive, the Hokage teleported again, slapped some kind of seal on each head and gestured to—
To the jounin, who came from who-knows-where, who began tying them up.
And—
And then—
And then Ebisu blacked out.
.
Sakura was exhausted, but she always had time for her nephew.
"How are the interrogations going?" he asked, pleasantries complete and paperwork put away.
"No surprises," Sakura said. "Likely won't be the last assassination attempt but at least they'll set an example for their crimes of kidnapping, murder, and attempted assassination."
"So Konoha is executing them?"
Sakura hummed agreement. "Once T&I is confident they have nothing left to hide."
"Good."
Sakura smiled. Rento—he didn't know how powerful his aunt was, didn't know how ready she was, but that was fine; he did know her sealing work, and so he was far more vindictive than afraid for her.
She appreciated that.
Wished more of her family felt the same.
(Ren, Rento's father and Sakura's oldest brother, was one of the worst offenders, constantly double- and triple-checking that Sakura was fine, was okay, arguing with his boss to try to take over the interrogations… just generally acting like an overprotective older brother.
(She understood it, understood him being worried, but it was still annoying.)
"You didn't come here to ask me about the interrogations," Sakura said.
"No. No, I didn't. I, um, I have this idea. For a seal."
"What kind?"
"It would be tattooed—would need to be tattooed, given—well. I brought, um, my drafts."
Sakura made a gesture, and Rento hurried to unseal them, spread them across the table.
"So—see, here. The biggest issue previous Researchers ran into when trying the same thing was how truth is—well, not. Like, you can believe you're speaking the truth when you say that Iwa forces are beyond the Great Bridge, but that's not true—you were just lied to. And then, you could know that Iwa doesn't have troops beyond the Great Bridge, but depending on how you look at it, Iwa itself is beyond the Great Bridge, so you could say that and not be lying." Sakura nodded agreement. "So, like, beyond the difficulty in making the seal in the first place, a lot of Researchers—like, why bother?" Sakura nodded again. "But—I was thinking—what if, what if I combine seals that would make the speaker unable to say what they know is not true—I'm still working on those, obviously—with seals that make them loose-lipped. Like, I don't know how successful I'll be, but—"
"It's a good idea."
Rento looked up, nodded, relieved that she was understanding him. "I was thinking, it would probably take a lot of onus off of—of Yamanaka mind-walkers, right?"
"In theory. Certainly for criminals. The tattooed aspect—that's because it would work directly on their brain, right?"
"Yeah, right."
"So that would mean we couldn't use it on immigrants or the like, but that's fine. Yamanaka mind-walkers prefer those jobs anyway: far less taxing."
Rento nodded more rapidly, and Sakura wished she'd thought of it. Of the simple solution. Of the way to stop her niece from suffering—from allowing all mind-walkers to take breaks.
Of course, the idea was one thing.
Making it happen was another.
"What do you need?"
"Test subjects, but that's later, and I figure a lot of criminals will volunteer if we use the right incentives. For the immediate future—time, at least two junior sealers to draw out the framework, and at least one Hyuuga and somebody who works with brains at the hospital." Sakura ran her finger across a half-sketched out framework for the right half of the seal—the truth-speaking half—and considered, not for the first time, how amazing it was that this was so intuitive to her nephew.
"You'll have it, obviously." If this worked it would be a boon for Konoha beyond measure. "Come see me in—two days. I'll give you the names then."
Rento nodded, bowed, nodded. Began resealing his notes.
Sakura—
They really didn't have the spare budget.
The spare hands.
They'd figure it out.