Sayuri flopped on the ground, groaning as she let herself fall.
"Did you run all the way here?" Another Yamanaka waiting in line asked.
"Not all the way," Sayuri said. "Just… most of it."
"Frontliner?"
"You know it. I've got this sister, Ayame, who absolutely loves fighting, spends every minute she can on the frontlines—and the actual frontlines, too, not just the camps. I… am not her."
"Well, at least you get a break now."
"Small mercies." The line moved again, and Sayuri groaned again, forcing herself up enough to scoot forward.
"Imagine how much better you'd feel if you were still with the rest of the group headed home."
"Rub it in, will you?" Again, they moved. "So, you're not being relieved from the Iwa border?"
"No, just headed in for the celebration, then back to work at a prison."
"Exciting."
"Isn't it?"
"At least we'll all get more time off after this."
"True enough. I've lost friends on the frontlines against Iwa, you know. Good friends. Especially in the last official war. And it sucks, and I'm not so happy about the alliance alongside the peace, but—I don't want to lose anymore friends."
Sayuri looked up at her distant cousin, squinting against the sun's glare. "It is a good sign, isn't it? That this time we've lost so much less people? That this time Iwa wanted certainty that we wouldn't go after them?"
"Yeah, it's a good sign." He smiled, looking at the Konoha streets just visible past the gates. "Imagine, my children growing up without experiencing loss."
The line moved forward again, and one of the guards gestured to Sayuri.
It took little time to prove her identity, and then Sayuri was jogging again, making her way to the Administrative Building.
"Yamanaka Sayuri, here to visit Yamanaka Sakura."
The receptionist barely glanced up. "Which Yamanaka Sakura?"
"The Head Researcher."
"Does she know you're coming?"
"I mean, yeah, but I doubt she knew when. Just got back from the frontline camps, you know."
"Explains the odor." Well, there was no reason to be rude about it. "Head in."
"Thanks." She said, only because she was supposed to. Sakura was, of course, not in her office.
Because why would she be?
She did have a couch, so Sayuri decided to take a nap.
"…uri. Guess you're back."
"Hm?" Sayuri rolled over a little, far too sleepy to wake up yet, then—"Oh, hey Sakura. Let's get this done with so I can actually sleep."
"Your bed is made up at home."
"Great." Sayuri grinned, and Sakura grinned back. Hugged her. Clearly Sayuri didn't smell that bad.
"So, why'd you come here instead of home?"
And that—that made Sayuri's grin widen. "You know that letter you sent? Well, it paid off."
.
The air smelled like fried food, baked goods, and barbecue.
It was the celebration of the alliance, and Konoha was pulling out all its stops.
Iwa's celebration would be next week, and Konoha would be sending more than a few representatives to theirs, but Inohina had worked hard to make sure there would be absolutely nothing Kumo could do to show them up.
So—food. Not only that, but fresh food; fruit and vegetables harvested across the year, kept in good condition by the ridiculously complicated stasis seals Konoha had invested in. Even fresh fish, brought in mere hours before from all over the coast (animal cells, unfortunately, did not react well to seals).
Flowers. Flowers, and flat roads, and clean buildings, and absolutely no sign whatsoever that Konoha was still fighting the good fight in the north.
Movies—multiple theaters set up for just this event, as well as the three permanent ones Konoha now sported, each and every one playing all day for free.
Music on every street corner, just as every good festival required.
Cooling seals making sure that every street remained comfortable despite the heat of the sun and the press of the crowd.
Multiple training grounds kitted out in various Fire and Earth games, ready to be played by whoever wanted a shot.
And loads and loads of 'hosts' in Konoha greens and reds, all ready to help all the Fire and Earth visitors and all fluent in more languages than Inohina herself.
More to the point, though, they were all… special.
Former Fire residents, most of them.
Some had prosthetics that only Konoha could offer.
Some were cured of diseases Inohina knew for a fact the Capital still thought were incurable.
Some were in the Academy, left, till benefitted Konoha.
And on it went.
Each demonstrating something Konoha wanted to show off, wanted to be proud about.
(Can you do this, Inohina's work asked. How about this? Or this? It didn't matter that Kumo would be able to adjust their festival in response to Konoha's; her work would be so good, so awe-inspiring, that Kumo wouldn't be able to even approach the extravagance.)
This, this was what she was good at.
Inohina smiled as the city gates opened, as the two Daimyo of Fire and Earth entered in chariots made in their honor.
Behind them, the first of the guests followed, and Iwa's red and orange shinobi with them.
Inohina caught one's eye, smirked.
Beat this.
.
Shibi Aburame was a bit of a mystery to the other clan heads of Konoha—yes, in theory, he was second in line, but his brother was almost certain to begin having children soon so it hadn't mattered.
And then his brother had lost his position.
(And wasn't that odd?
(That for the Aburame the headship was something you could lose?)
Now, unfortunately, the clans were dealing with an unknown.
Unknowns were… risky.
Dangerous.
Shibi was out and about now, at least, showing his face during Konoha's festival.
He had worked for Konoha for some time, frontline, but would no longer be doing so.
He was quiet, reports said.
Not particularly easy to read.
Today Tamotsu, relying on his own instinct rather than those of his kin, believed that the man was uncomfortable.
…Which was interesting.
Not particularly unusual amongst the Aburame, but then he was here, wasn't he?
Tamotsu tried to decide whether his brother would have come.
Yes, probably, but not for long.
Aburame Shibi was not retreating, however, was staying, talking despite his clear lack of practice.
…Which was interesting.
Few other Aburame were around—they tended to disgust those not used to them, and there were enough ninja-centered areas of the festival that there was little reason for them to inflict themselves upon the civilians on the main street instead.
And yet Aburame Shibi was here.
…Which was interesting.
This, Tamotsu decided, was his biggest issue: these signs were obvious, blatant, and no doubt perfectly perceptible even in less crowded situations.
And yet his relatives had given him none of it.
…It was a shame, that Konoha continued to weaken them.
Continued to eat at his clan.
The inherent safety of the village could not be denied, and yet—
Well, Tamotsu had been taught well.
Had learned well.
He'd continue to lay low, carefully accumulate intelligence, but in a few more years his father's blunder would fade from people's minds, and then he would be able to finally, finally bolster his clan, their safety.
Regain the security they once had.
Become, again, the shadow. Unknown, unknowable, overlooked and underestimated.
A when that happened…
When he succeeded in correcting the course of his clan…
When they were once more where they were supposed to be…
Once more in a position of power…
Then, knowing how clan leaders behaved would be very, very important. His clan had taught him well, after all, and he knew exactly what he needed to succeed: a true understanding not only of his and his clan's goals, but also of the tools he had at his disposal—tools which included the clan heads
And when that happened, when his clan had become shadow again, Head Shimura Tamotsu would be ready.
.
Once, a long time ago, Juro had been under the impression that people were generally smart.
He was no longer under that impression.
"Why… did… why did you think packing the cut with dirt would help?"
"It stopped the bleeding, didn't it?"
It was small consolation that his Capital compatriots were similarly baffled by the nobleman's choices.
Small.
Because, of course, the nobleman hadn't hurt himself. Well, he probably had in the past, but this time he'd been trying to train his son.
"Do you have to use chakra to fix it?" the father asked.
"Yes." Again, silence. The Capital might on the whole distrust ninja and their use of chakra, but it was not as if there was any other way to treat this level of infection.
"And he'll fully recover?"
Juro hesitated. "Too soon to say. Unfortunately, the wound went to long without treatment, and—"
"I packed it with dirt!"
Juro looked up, met a doctor's eyes.
For the first time in weeks, they were fully in agreement.
Later, after he'd done what he could and the boy had been put up in a hospital bed to monitor symptoms, Juro went out for a smoke.
Compared to the work he'd done in Konoha, the Capital was…
Worse.
Less respect, more stupidity, more disagreements, more pointless rules, less medicine, more politics…
He didn't know how Shin had managed it for so long.
But, well.
Juro loved Emiko.
And Emiko—
She wanted to be near her family.
So Juro was in it for the long haul, was willing to keep suffering through to make her happy.
And, he reminded himself, it wasn't like Konoha was perfect either.
…But he hadn't been a smoker in Konoha.
He glared at his pipe.
Tried to remind himself that it was bad for him.
Kept on smoking.
It was only another two hours until he was done for the day.
He could manage that.
.
Kakashi did not like wearing kimono.
The ones Sensei got for him were comfortable, so that wasn't the issue, but it wasn't very ninja, was it?
It was all pretty colors and pretty patterns and pretty paintings and—
He knew why he had to be all dressed up.
He wasn't a kid anymore; he understood that there was more to power and safety than just physical might.
That didn't mean he had to like it.
Everyone was all dressed up around him, all smiling and talking and acting like—
Like this mattered.
And, again, Kakashi knew it did.
He knew that.
He swallowed, then carefully pieced together a genjutsu to allow him to more easily vanish.
He could feel Sensei's eyes on him as he did.
There was a training ground he used to help his clan's sponsees, but today it was full of picnickers.
Kakashi stared at the families, laughing, talking, happy.
He tried to nudge at the six-tails, but the beast was tired today. Wasn't willing to put in any unnecessary effort.
Kakashi sighed.
Began ambling along the side of the training ground, still more-or-less invisible unless you were actively looking for him.
Ahead there were several Hyuuga, and Kakashi decided a bit of spying was a good way to spend an afternoon.
"…and a pond, of course."
"You have really thought this out."
The Hyuuga that Kakashi only vaguely recognized shifted slightly. "I talked to a few members of the Yamanaka clan, and they warned against being overly stringent, but I thought having a good blueprint would still be useful."
The other Hyuuga—either the clan head or his brother—nodded.
And then the two just stood there.
Silent.
Looking at a bunch of trees.
Just as Kakashi was about to abandon them and search for something more interesting the Hyuuga twin cleared his throat.
"I… still haven't decided."
More silence, but now Kakashi was interested.
Finally, "It is, of course, your prerogative… but Hizashi, time is running out. We expect to be separated by the new year."
Right.
Kakashi had heard of that.
Obito'd mentioned it, was all fascinated about the implications. Kakashi… hadn't cared much. He'd wanted to try new jutsu.
Should he care?
"I understand," Hizashi said. Again, they lapsed into silence.
Kakashi decided that politics was still boring, and Obito could have a monopoly on it. It wasn't like Rin was interested either, busy as she was with the hospital and the course she was running; she, at least, had sense.