The forest was alive with movement, sunlight slicing through the leaves and scattering gold across the earth below. Leaves rustled, branches swayed, and soft footsteps padded swiftly across the moss-covered ground.

Moriki dodged to her left, narrowly avoiding Hawk's outstretched hand as he lunged gracefully forward. She twisted mid-step, her bare feet silent and quick against the soft grass, eyes locked on the deep blue ribbon tied securely around Hawk's wrist.

Her own ribbon—bright green and vivid—fluttered from her left wrist, a tempting target. Hawk's mask gave nothing away, but Moriki could feel the subtle shifts in his posture, predicting his movements from the slight tilt of his shoulders, the tension in his fingertips.

"Faster, Moriki," Hawk instructed calmly, voice steady even as he moved with deceptive speed. "Read my movements before I do them."

Moriki's eyes shined with determination. She leaped suddenly, fingers catching onto a low-hanging branch, pulling herself effortlessly upward as the tree responded, shifting gently to support her ascent. Hawk followed immediately, just as graceful, the ribbons dancing like colourful flags between them.

Moriki bounced off one branch to another, sensing the forest moving around her, each tree subtly reaching out to aid her escape. Again with those trees. She's gotta stop. With an agile twist, she lunged downward, her fingertips brushing the edge of Hawk's ribbon—but he pivoted smoothly, stepping neatly away at the last second.

"Don't depend on the trees, Moriki!" he admonished gently, spinning to face her again.

As she caught her breath, something tugged gently at her mind, distracting her. She blinked up at Hawk, head tilting with a puzzled squint and a tiny, thoughtful frown.

"Moriki?" she asked, voice small, her nose wrinkling like she'd tasted something not quite ripe. Something about it… wasn't wrong. But it wasn't right either. Her lips puffed into a quiet huff, and then she brightened, eyes twinkling as she offered softly, "Pebble?"

Hawk blinked, just once. For a second, he just looked at her, this scrappy little thing with twigs in her hair and dirt on her cheeks, clutching a piece of ribbon like it was treasure. Then he smiled behind his mask—not that she could see it, but she could feel it in the way his shoulders softened. He crouched down slowly in front of her, meeting her eyes with so much care it felt like the forest had gone quiet just for them.

"Moriki is your name," he said gently, voice low and warm. "But Pebble… that's what I call you. Just me. It's your nickname. It's something special."

Moriki's eyes widened a little, absorbing every word. "Nickname?" she asked, the word clumsy in her mouth, but curious. Like a tiny new animal she wanted to hold gently.

Hawk gave the smallest nod. "It's a name you only share with someone who's important. It means I care about you." Don't ask me how, when or why though.

She stared at him a beat longer, then her face lit up—quiet at first, like a candle flickering, then brighter as she pressed her hand over her heart. "Pebble," she said proudly. Then her finger stretched out and pointed right at him, smile blooming. "Rock!"

Hawk chuckled softly, warmth evident even through his calm demeanour. I care about this little monster more than I probably should. "Yes, you'll always be Pebble to me and I'm Rock. Just for you."

Moriki giggled, bright and warm, her joy bubbling out like it had nowhere else to go. Pebble wasn't just a sound. It was theirs. A tiny promise in a word. A secret stone tucked into her heart, and into his.

"Ready, Pebble?" Hawk rose smoothly, settling back into stance, the ribbon gently swaying.

Moriki's smile turned mischievous, excitement lighting her gaze as she mirrored his pose.

"Yes, Rock!"

With a burst of laughter, she lunged forward, ribbons fluttering between them as the spar resumed, the forest whispering around them in joyful encouragement.

Just as Hawk prepared himself for Moriki's next attack, she abruptly halted again, straightening from her playful stance. This time, her gaze was fixed sharply to her left, eyes narrowed, ears almost twitching beneath Kushina's scarf as if listening for something only she could hear.

Hawk tilted his head, watching her curiously. "Pebble?" he questioned softly, recognising the sudden stillness as something meaningful.

She didn't answer. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, her breath slowing as she listened intently, head slightly cocked, brow furrowing in intense concentration. Hawk waited patiently, observing how quickly her playful energy had transformed into deep focus.

Then, without warning, she bolted.

"Moriki—!" Hawk called out in surprise, immediately breaking into a sprint to follow. She didn't respond. Oh, for— "Moriki."

Still nothing.

Hawk sighed and followed, muttering under his breath. "I swear, if she just smelled something interesting again—"

The girl moved like wind weaving through the trees, bare feet barely brushing the ground. Hawk followed swiftly, the forest blurring around him. After a few minutes of quick pursuit, he finally spotted her up ahead, she was already crouched low to the ground, her posture shifting, her weight balanced on all fours like some sort of wild creature. She had stopped near the base of a large, gnarled tree, watching him approach with solemn eyes.

As soon as he caught up, breathing a bit heavier, Moriki held up a hand sharply, silencing him. "Stop," she whispered, barely moving as she raised a hand to him. "Silence." Hawk blinked slowly behind his mask, surprised.

Did she just command me like I'm Kakashi?

Hawk crossed his arms, watching as Moriki crept forward, her movements impossibly fluid, her fingertips barely skimming the damp earth. A soft, low sound escaped her, something between a hum and a chuff as she neared a false log.

Hawk watched in fascinated silence. What on earth?

Then he saw it.

A tiny, furry head cautiously peeked above the log. Wide, round eyes blinked nervously. A baby tanuki, trembling violently. It let out a high-pitched squeak of fear, curling in on itself.

Hawk's surprise softened into gentle curiosity. Ah. So that's it.

Moriki carefully crept closer, chirping and purring softly, a language she knew instinctively and effortlessly. The little tanuki tilted its head, obviously intrigued by her strange sounds, clearly understanding them. Slowly, the creature emerged fully from its hiding spot, stepping shyly toward her.

After a soft, quick exchange, animal sounds Hawk could only guess the meaning of, Moriki smiled brightly and scooped the little tanuki gently into her arms. She cradled him protectively, nuzzling his fur with a happy purr of her own.

Hawk's eyebrow twitched. She's really talking to it. He was still surprised by how she communicated with the animals, even after seeing her argue with the squirrel at Minato's yard daily.

Moriki cradled it gently, murmuring something soft, before turning back toward Hawk with a completely serious expression. "It lost its mother. Cold. Hungry."

There was a pause.

Then she straightened, clutching the tanuki close to her chest. "Taking it with me."

"...No, you're not," Hawk said automatically.

Moriki tilted her head, holding the tiny creature closer.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Hawk stared. "Pebble, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Taking it," she repeated, expression unshaken, like this was the most natural conclusion in the world.

Hawk pinched the bridge of his nose. "Moriki, we are literally in the middle of training."

Moriki shrugged. "Rescue mission."

What? He sighed heavily, giving the tanuki one last look. It blinked at him with tiny, round eyes, as if it knew it had already won. Moriki's own gaze locked onto him, unwavering, stubborn, and entirely unwilling to accept 'no' as an answer. Why do I even bother arguing? Tiger was right—I'm getting soft.

Hawk groaned. "You can't just take in every stray animal you find."

Moriki tilted her head. "Why?"

He opened his mouth, then immediately closed it. Damn it. Reasoning with Moriki over something small was manageable, but a helpless baby tanuki? He didn't stand a chance. Especially not when she looked at him like that, with eyes so earnest and caring.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Alright. But you'll have to explain this to Minato-sama yourself."

Moriki's entire face brightened like sunshine through leaves. She hugged the tanuki carefully, cooing soft reassurances into its fur.

"Tanuki safe," she declared proudly, eyes sparkling. "Moriki safe tanuki."

Hawk chuckled quietly behind his mask, unable to argue against her heart. "Alright then, Pebble. Let's head back."

She beamed at him once more, gently rocking the tanuki in her arms, before turning to lead the way back. Hawk followed close behind, before he stumbled with his own feet. Shit, we have to go to the academy first.

They didn't make it ten steps onto school grounds before Inuzuka-sensei caught sight of them—and immediately zeroed in on the tanuki nestled in Moriki's arms like a prize she'd just won from the forest itself.

"What," the teacher asked, slowly and dangerously, "is that?"

Moriki's eyes sparkled. "Safe," she said proudly. "Tanuki. Friend."

The tanuki yawned.

Hawk exhaled and took one respectful step back. He wasn't getting between this.

"You brought a wild animal back from training?" Inuzuka-sensei demanded, hands already on her hips. "What if it bites someone?!" She paused, sniffed the air, then grimaced. "And he smells like swamp mold."

"He scared," Moriki replied calmly, petting the tanuki's fur. "And hungry."

"He's wild!"

"He's soft."

"That's not a counterpoint!"

Hawk stood with his arms crossed, barely hiding his amusement. This wasn't a discussion anymore, it was a spiritual clash of immovable forces. One was a seasoned shinobi teacher. The other was Moriki with a raccoon baby and zero regrets.

Inuzuka-sensei turned to Hawk then, "I thought you were supervising!"

"I was," Hawk replied evenly. "I supervised the entire rescue."

"Hawk."

"She coordinated the approach, communicated with the tanuki, and declared a successful extraction."

Inuzuka-sensei ran a hand down her face. "This is not a mission!"

"Rescue mission," Moriki said helpfully.

"NO IT'S NOT!"

Eventually, after a dramatic sigh and a long list of muttered complaints about children and chaos and tanuki allergies, Inuzuka-sensei turned around to the classroom, Moriki following happily behind.

When the class ended, Inuzuka-sensei turned again towards Hawk, "Go. Take her to Minato."

"Roger," Hawk said calmly, already turning to leave.

"And don't vanish when she starts talking!" the teacher barked after him. "You're part of this too, you hear me?!"

Which is why, ten minutes later, as they arrived at Minato's house…

Hawk knocked on the door, waited exactly two seconds, and the moment it creaked open…

Poof.

Gone.

Disappeared.

Moriki blinked at his sudden absence, then shrugged casually. Maybe Hawk has things to do? Oh well.

The door swung open to reveal Minato, who paused mid-step, blinking in surprise at finding Moriki standing alone on the doorstep.

"Moriki?" His brows knitted slightly. "Where's Hawk?"

She tilted her head innocently. "Gone."

Minato glanced around briefly, clearly sensing the subtle trace of chakra that told him Hawk had just made a very strategic retreat. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why did Hawk leave so quickly?"

Moriki immediately brightened, carefully presenting the fluffy tanuki with immense pride, as if she'd just completed an important mission. "Tanuki!"

Minato blinked slowly, staring down at the round, furry face now peering curiously up at him from Moriki's scarf. For a long second, he appeared entirely at a loss for words. "You…brought home a tanuki?"

Moriki nodded earnestly, holding the creature even closer. "Tanuki alone. Cold. Hungry. Moriki safe."

Minato gently rubbed his forehead, letting out a quiet sigh of disbelief mixed with reluctant amusement. I should have expected this sooner or later.

"Moriki," he tried gently, "maybe he has a family somewhere else looking for him?"

She shook her head vigorously, brows furrowed in stubborn determination. "No. I Ask. Lost family."

Minato opened his mouth, ready to try reasoning again—but before he could speak, Kushina's cheerful voice floated from within the house, footsteps quickly approaching behind him.

"What's taking so long at the door?" Kushina appeared at Minato's shoulder, glancing down curiously. Her eyes widened instantly, delight flashing across her face. "Oh! Is that a tanuki?!"

Moriki immediately perked up even more, turning to Kushina with pleading, hopeful eyes. "Moriki save tanuki. Can stay?"

Minato attempted to interject quickly. "Now, Kushina, I was just explaining—"

Kushina shot him a gentle but pointed look. "Minato, look at that little face," she whispered dramatically, crouching down to peer at the tanuki, who blinked shyly at her. "How could you possibly say no?"

Minato exhaled softly, shaking his head slightly as he felt his resolve rapidly crumbling. "Kushina."

She placed a gentle hand on his arm, smiling warmly. "Come on, it'll be good for her."

Moriki watched this exchange carefully, eyes round and hopeful. She squeezed the tanuki gently, whispering quiet encouragement into its fur.

Finally, Minato sighed deeply, shoulders dropping as he stepped back from the doorway. "Alright, Moriki. He can stay."

Moriki's eyes lit up like stars, her entire expression flooding with pure joy. "Yes!" she squeaked excitedly, hopping once in place. "Tanuki stay!"

Kushina laughed softly, gently ushering Moriki inside with a triumphant grin directed at Minato, who merely shook his head, though his eyes were fondly amused.

"Just promise," he said dryly, "that this doesn't become a regular thing."

Moriki tilted her head thoughtfully as she walked past him, cuddling the tanuki. "Not regular. Just one tanuki."

Minato chuckled softly as he closed the door behind them, knowing full well he'd already lost. Between Kushina and Moriki, I might as well surrender now.