Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

chapters 1-3 are in this first part

Chapter 1

It would have been really fucking cool to use Hiraishin seals to bring objects to her instead of traveling to objects. Aiko kept that thought in mind, and not how phenomenally the experiment had failed.

‘Fuck if I know why I ended up where I did. Fucking random. Shouldn’t I have ended up near a seal?’

There was exactly no chance that Aiko had ever left a seal in Mizugakure.

“Bloodline user!”

Especially not, you know, in the reign of Yagura. Who was giving her an unpleasant look, and leaping backwards as his guards moved forward with blood in their eyes.

At least it wasn’t her first time travel mishap. She quickly focused on the important part.

“I was not!” Aiko retorted, ducking under a machete that should have taken off her head. It made a slicing sound when it passed over.

Unfair. What kind of idiot assumed a bloodline was responsible when someone appeared out of the shadows-

Oh. Shit.

She cheesed it, sprinting past the surprised shouts and reflexive projectiles. Aiko went up a building face, scorching the stone facing and accidentally blowing chips off with too much chakra. At least three Mist-nin followed with more grace.

‘Did I just start the Bloodline Purge?’ she wondered in the part of her head that wasn’t going ‘oh shit oh shit oh shit when the hell am I?’ because history had never been her strong suit.

That would be embarrassing. But at least it wasn’t boring…

Luckily or not, a few days later Aiko managed to track down a newspaper that confirmed she should find a textbook when she went home.

‘So how long do I have to wait until Mei-nee-chan kills Yagura and I can have a friend with an important hat?’

Ugh. Aiko turned the newspaper to the front page to glare accusatively at the date again. The man selling the papers cleared his throat.

“Have a cold?” she asked, not really caring.

‘I’m eleven at this point. Or…’ Aiko looked down to confirm that her body was very much that of an adult, as it should be. ‘Well. One of me is eleven.’

It’d be a while until that shitty situation was resolved in Mizu. Not that it was like, Aiko’s problem or anything. She didn’t care.

Aiko scowled, crumpling the newspaper in disgust and stomping off. 

Even in her short-circuited confusion, Aiko had had enough sense to travel west. She’d lost her pursuers when she’d vaulted over the village wall and blown up a cart full of goji berries. She had only felt a little sorry for the tradesperson she’d probably bankrupted, because it had been pretty funny.

She’d had to switch to traveling over the water after only an hour of running after losing her pursuers, at which point she’d relaxed the pace down to a ground-eating lope. Island nations were funny that way. Nothing like Konoha.

‘Is that where I should be going?’

Aiko sighed and ran her hands through her hair, fingers catching first on a knot and then the tangled mess that had been a braid.

First of all, she should find somewhere to stay for the night and get cleaned up. She was attracting sideways looks. But she didn’t have a change of clothes, damnit, and what she was wearing would not last well through repeated wear.  

But come on, it was normal to do things like seal experimentation in one’s pajamas. If it had worked, she would probably have at most endured the awkwardness of bringing Yamato to her kitchen along with the kunai in his possession. Instead, it had been like… like her sense of her seals had caught, stuttered, and then re-focused on nothing that she recognized. Like she was suddenly on the wrong radio frequency, tuning into someone else’s conversation.

Instead, Aiko was wandering the business district of a smallish city two islands away from the capital of Mizugakure at twilight in puppy-patterned shorts and a wide-strapped tank top. At least she had real sandals on; through they were leather-bottomed strappy affairs and not shinobi grade equipment. She started to keep an eye out for a hotel to spend the night.

Wait. She didn’t have any money with her.

Well, she could just go home and-

She couldn’t. Not really. Her gut churned. At eleven, she was an unfriendly Chuunin with more arrogance than experience. Okay, even if she got past village security, and the Hokage believed her (okay, he probably would, since they had gone through this time travel thing before), what was she expecting? Who was going to leap to help her? Jiraiya could probably help her figure out what she’d done, but he wasn’t in Konoha.

Figuring out what she’d done wouldn’t get her back home, though. It might not even be possible. She couldn’t sense her seals at all. Was she going to have to live out the next nine years until she was back where she was supposed to be?

That didn’t quite make sense. She couldn’t resume her own life, because she would already be living it.

‘So… do I need to find a new life and live it?’ Aiko wondered. ‘Just… do whatever feels right and will keep me amused?’

Terrifying. Annoying. Also interesting.

The worst part was that no one knew who she was, and her hard-earned reputation was gone. The best part was that no one knew who she was, and she could do whatever the hell she wanted with no consequences whatsoever. Who was going to stop her, Tsunade?

She stopped smiling, because the expression had grown so wide that all her teeth were showing and a woman had just jerked her child out of Aiko’s path with wide, appalled eyes.

‘You know what would be really funny?’

Yes. Yes, she really did. Aiko took a moment to think it through, coming up with the vague notion of baffling and tormenting people she didn’t like. If she went cross-continental and set up a skeleton of Hiraishin tags, it’d be a lot safer. She plotted out the easiest route to cover absentmindedly, jiggling open a third-floor hotel window and hoisting herself in. She showered first, using all the complimentary shampoo and conditioner. Aiko wrinkled her nose, but laid out the same outfit for the next day, and crawled into bed.

‘Now that I know my tags are at risk if Obito grabs me through kamui, I just won’t let that happen. If he moves toward me, I’ll just up and go. It’s not like he’ll know who I am, or have the same interest in me.’

Aiko woke up in the dead of the night to go shopping. Whatever city she was in had a vibrant nightlife, but she actually seemed less out of place than she had during the day. Smiling, Aiko nodded at a group of drunks stumbling down the street.

‘I should get more changes than I think I’ll need. Nothing I can buy here will be the industrial, reinforced materials that I’m used to in Konoha.’

That didn’t bother her, to be honest. That was what she’d made do with when she was running with Obito, and it wasn’t like armor was integral to her fighting style.

When she found a likely looking boutique, Aiko slipped around to the alley and forced the back door open. The clothes she found were a little off-putting, truth be told. Civilian fashion in Mist nine years back had apparently tended toward pastels and very low necklines, cut in dramatic vees. They would look a lot better on soft, curvy civilian women than they would on her. She frowned at them. After a little digging, she found a less unnlikely blue top with a silvery modesty panel, and paired it with a green knee-length skirt. She changed right there on the sales floor, eagerly dropping her day-old pajamas. Aiko walked away from the dirty clothes, keeping an eye out for the next item on her list. She found a reasonably secure and chic pink backpack- a tiny purse sized thing with spindly straps, but at least it wouldn’t flap around like a purse would when she ran.

At the counter, she found a pad of stationary and a pen. She took the whole thing, scribbling storage seals on the first pages and picking out spare outfits to tuck away. Her pajamas went in too, as did all but one of a packet of headbands and some scrunchies. Aiko took a moment to make a pouty face at her reflection on a mirror, taking care to make sure her hair fell nicely around her new accessory.

There was absolutely nothing useful in terms of footwear, unfortunately. Her sandals were drastically out of place, so she packed up and went on search of another, more promising store.

When she thought she had enough equipment (and it was a damn shame that she didn’t have a single weapon of any sort, how annoying) Aiko hefted her little bag and the notepad inside. She set out, taking care to brush not one but three seals into the coastal city she’d ended up in. It seemed like a pretty safe little hideout, truth be told. Then she left over the water, headed for the mainland. She came ashore in Wave Country.

‘Isn’t this nostalgic?’ Aiko tilted her head, slowing to a walk as she crossed a bridge. She was pulling her hair up into something neater to cope with the humidity and heat when she noticed the first thin, hungry-eyed civilian.

That was what she remembered. Hmm. Yes, she was only about a year away from when her team would swing by and kill Gato, wasn’t she? He must be in his heyday. Curious, Aiko made a detour for the little town she remembered, bending to scoop up a rock, plant a seal on it, and then toss it into the underbrush.

The civilians were already starving, thin and desperate under the despotic reign of someone with no concept of ensuring a capable workforce. Aiko frowned, wondering why Gato was so incompetent. There wasn’t really any point to brow-beating the civilians like this. If he was greedy, why wasn’t he attempting to profit off of this? He was already the only game in town. He could offer jobs with low pay, stifle the competition, especially since there was currently no easy connection to the mainland, and make a helluva lot of money. He didn’t even have to be hated to do it.

‘I’ll never understand some people.’ Contemplative, Aiko perched on a tree and swung her legs. The town woke sluggishly. A few people kept chickens, and they were up at a decent time to take care of the poultry. Fishermen and women headed out next, craggy and sun-burnt people with scarred hands. And… that was it? She frowned. There should be kids heading to school, businesses opening, that kind of thing. But there just wasn’t.

Boo. Maybe she should do something.

On the other hand, she wasn’t interested in heroics, and they’d be saved in a year anyway. But jeeze, it seemed kind of bitchy to leave them to suffer for so long. Aiko frowned, trying to pick out why she was so reluctant to interfere. It wasn’t like she cared about making sure the mission went as planned when her team came out, so that wasn’t it. Was it? Not exactly.

‘That’s the first time they’re really out of Konoha- the only location I can reasonably confirm. If I leave this situation fundamentally unchanged, that’ll be my first opportunity to see familiar faces from Konoha.’

And maybe, if she were totally honest, she was a little interested in being scouted by Konoha. She wasn’t a missing nin on anyone’s books, so she wasn’t a criminal. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. She’d stolen from other towns, but she wouldn’t take from already starving mouths here.

She could just be a wandering shinobi- someone who’d picked up their trade from a village outsider. It was no crime to be taught by a missing nin, or a parent.

‘And Konoha likes Uzumaki. I mean. The Sandaime just scooped Karin up like she was an extra tomato at the market or something.’

She felt cheered, for a moment. Then she realized-

‘I don’t actually have the traditional Uzumaki looks.’

Okay. When she stood between Naruto and Karin, it was obvious that she belonged. But on her own? Uzumaki wouldn’t be the first thought.

Her hair was red, but not the iconic shade. Her face was too pointy to be the feminine ideal, yeah, but her features tended more toward the sharp eyes, brows, and thin lips of her dad and not the wide cheeks, pointed chin, and sharp-tipped nose of her mom.

‘Well. I’m close enough. I have chakra chains and I know a lot of fuinjutsu. Anyone who’s familiar with Uzumaki traits would put that together.’

That sounded like another reason to wait for team seven. Uzushiogakure had fallen long enough ago that there weren’t many active ninja left from its heyday. Like, Tsunade was a bit young to have had much interaction, and that was a bad sign. But Kakashi had known Kushina. He’d clue in, if she was obvious enough.

‘I don’t know if it’s a reason or a pretense, but that’s what I’m going with.’

That did leave Aiko with plenty of time to kill. Sort of.

‘How do I know when we’re about to come? I’m not going to hang out and wait for a year.’

Not in this dingy little backwater, anyway. Besides, she had plans. She had people to pretend to meet for the first time, people to kill, and, uh, people to confuse. She was starting to notice a theme. Hmm.

‘Is it possible that I’m just a really rude person?’

Maybe. Oh well. She dismissed the thought for more important matters.

‘Zabuza. He’s a big enough name that word gets around. If I keep my ear to the ground and pay attention to what he’s doing, I can be reasonably certain of the timing. I’ll just wait for him to move into Wave to work for Gato.’

Feeling cheered, Aiko added several stops to her cross-continental tour to check for information. She stopped in disreputable bars, a harbor with a significant smuggling presence, and one opium den that she was familiar with from her time running illicit materials.

It turned out that it was hard to coast on the reputation of her dangerous terrorist organization whilst

A. the terrorist organization was currently obscure to the point of irrelevance

B. she was not a member of the terrorist organization anyway

“Please let me see your books?” Aiko tried, tilting her head to the side.

The information broker looked unimpressed, crossing enormous tattooed arms. “Smiling isn’t going to work. Flirting isn’t going to work. Violence isn’t going to work. If you don’t have the cash, you’d better either leave or just kill me now.” His expression dared her to try.

Sullen, Aiko held up a finger to indicate one moment. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” He picked his romance novel back up.

‘Information extracted through torture is the least reliable,’ Aiko reminded herself. Her hand curled into a fist. Instead of leaving, she exited the sideroom into the bar area, taking a moment to primp. She pinched her cheeks and lips. She took down her ponytail and ran her hands through her hair. Then she plastered a glassy, half-drunk-and-happy-about-it expression on her face and sauntered into the bar.

She scanned the room. Forty-two people, one drug deal, seven couples, one group of three who weren’t friends, and-

One man eying her up from behind a nearly empty glass with some dark liquid nestled in ice.

Aiko made direct eye contact, raised an eyebrow, and indicated the bathroom with about the level of subtlety one might expect from drunks.

There was a moment of, ‘Cool, really?’ before the dark-haired stranger excused himself from his friends and started towards the restrooms, glancing at her questioningly. Aiko gave a huge, visible sigh, and walked into the men’s restroom, fully expecting him to follow. She closed her eyes, focusing just enough to force her eyes to filter to the Rinnegan.

When her new friend opened the door, Aiko immediately whammied him with what was probably an unsafe amount of chakra and the compulsion to sleep. He dropped like a fish. Like, physically dropped.

‘I always forget that part.’

Aiko lunged to break his fall, and wished she’d waited a second longer to jump the guy, because the door caught on the poor chump’s foot. She wheezed, painstakingly dragging her victim out of the way. The door shut sheepishly, cutting off the ambient noise of conversation and distant radio programming.

His wallet was in his back pocket. Aiko picked out what she needed and fished the pen out of her bag to scribble an apologetic face on the back of a receipt. Before leaving, she propped the poor civilian up against a clean-ish wall and hid his wallet in his shoe. Getting robbed once was probably enough.

‘The stealing is getting old. Besides, it’s sloppy procedure to leave a constant trail like that. People talk.’

With that in mind, Aiko left a meeting with the now pliant-if-not-pleasant information broker with the knowledge that Zabuza had last been seen in Grass and the additional tidbit rumor of a nearby client who could use a hand with something he’d rather not approach a shinobi village for. She felt better with some good, honest work on the radar.

Well. You know. As honest as she felt like being. Aiko didn’t give it too much thought, because serving as some rich bratling’s inconspicuous guard paid pretty well and she only had to step in occasionally when her employer’s drunk kid insulted someone bigger. Besides, the gig came with all the knives she could pocket from the jumpy genin washout who was working as the partygirl’s other escort. Aiko needed them more than he did anyway. He was a genin working outside the village system, for crap’s sake. He wasn’t going to last the year.

‘Maybe that means he needs the weapons more than I do?’

Well. She could use them better, anyway. Aiko ended the mission with money in her pocket, four kunai and an increasingly paranoid, twitchy coworker.

He stayed.

Aiko considered leaving without saying anything. It wasn’t really her business. But they hadn’t been a bad team- he looked like hired muscle and drew the attention, while she looked like another vapid rich kid slumming and hit the people who were still looking suspiciously at the genin. It wasn’t a bad system, although it was one in which he was tragically disposable if his partner didn’t care to watch his back.

‘It is not going to be long before he runs into someone he can’t handle. He looks big and scary, but he’s just a baby, really.’

“You should probably get out while you’re ahead,” Aiko commented as she counted up her pay notes. “You’re not cut out for this.” The genin stood abruptly and walked out without comment.

‘Fine. I tried.’

The next jobs she picked up were head-hunting gigs. They paid without any questions and she didn’t risk making any friends.

Months passed in that way. Aiko slipped around the cracks of human refuse, slumming at the bottom of the barrel and taking missions that were advertised as better for a team. There was increased risk and hard nights without sleep, but she made bank by pocketing pay meant for more people. She saved up a fair bit of money.

It was… Thrilling and satisfying, actually. But lonely, yeah. She tried summoning her dogs- it didn’t work. She could summon other animals, but not the ones she knew and cared about it. That was a harder blow than the loss of her Konoha citizenship, truth be told. She could probably go back if she really wanted to, and worm her way into the lives of people she might eventually miss. But if Mitsuo and Hōseki weren’t answering her call, it meant that they were unable to.

They were never going to be able to.

Melancholy, Aiko spent far too much money in a bar that night. Nothing cheered her up- not the alcohol, not fleecing civilians at dart games, and not throwing an offended patron through a window when she became increasingly buzzed and forget to downplay her aim.

‘I haven’t heard anything about Zabuza in a while,’ Aiko mused. ‘I’ll treat myself. Do something fun. Just be a real shithead. Then I’ll check in on him.’

Still tipsy, she checked into a dive hotel for the night and tried to judge her location on the decent map of Hiraishin tags she’d made in the time she’d been stranded.

She determined that her geographical abilities were lacking enough that she would not attempt to relocate herself to a safehouse she hadn’t been to in years while buzzed.

Sober, the next morning, on the other hand, Aiko seamlessly tugged on reality. It deposited her in the attic of the Akatsuki safehouse she’d been aiming for.

Aiko shrugged. Close enough. She jogged down the stairs and idly held up a hand in greeting when she passed by an open bedroom door. “Yo.”

Iwa no Deidara grunted in response. By the time he’d jerked his head back up with a, “Wait, what?” Aiko was stepping into the kitchen in search of liquids that would chase off her hangover.

“Morning.” Aiko nodded, keeping her tone bored.

Kisame opened his mouth and let coffee splash onto the table. He gave her a bewildered look.

‘More cautious than I thought. He’s probably wondering who brought me, and if Pein will kill him for attacking me. For all he knows, I’m a new hire, or someone from management.’

“Need a rag?” Still pretending that she belonged there, Aiko pulled open the top drawer, rolled her eyes at the measuring cups inside, and then tried another drawer down. The ex-Mist nin accepted the cloth she tossed.

‘Don’t smile. Don’t. It’ll undermine what I have going on here.’

She could feel her lips twitch. It was okay. She was turned away enough that he couldn’t see it. Aiko controlled her expression and pulled down a teacup and saucer. When she turned around, she was all business. “Is there anything half-decent?”

The Mist Nuke-nin nodded cautiously, jerking his shoulder toward a cupboard. “I’d avoid the ocha. It’s old. The rest is fine.”

Uchiha Itachi wandered into the kitchen, made himself a bowl of green tea ice cream, and left without acknowledging her presence. It took half an hour for Pein to notice the intrusion, or to decide to deal with it. When the most familiar Path strode into the kitchen, Aiko was in the middle of checking the math in Kisame’s checkbook.

“Kunoichi.”

Aiko waved him off. “Just a minute,” she said distractedly. “Thanks.”

Inconspicuously, Kisame pushed his chair away from hers. He didn’t reach out to pull away his checks, though.

“I do not repeat myself.” Pein intoned darkly.

‘Oh god, this is too easy.’

She cupped a hand to her ear. “Sorry, what?” Aiko mimed confusion. “I didn’t hear that.”

“I do not-” Pein cut his automatic response off, giving her a downright vicious glare.

‘Moron.’

Aiko leapt across the table and tackled Pein to the ground.

Or, like, that was the idea. Instead she smacked into him with about the result she’d expect from charging a wall. The teacup in her hand even shattered from the collision, leaving her holding onto a curved shard the length of her bent finger. Because she was in fact a kunoichi and not a professional wrestler, Aiko flipped away and flung her kunai. They tik-tik-tik-tikt into the walls as he dodged them, moving all the way around her.

Which was, you know, fine. Because she now had two kunai embedded in the east wall, one in the south, and one in the west wall, and they were all Hiraishin.

Pein really literally did not see her coming. She appeared behind him, already jabbing her piece of broken glass forward and up through his brain stem.

‘It’s not really him anyway.’ Aiko stepped back hastily to avoid the falling body; because Pein’s favorite corpse to puppet around was super heavy with metal and what was probably ten years of slow rot.

The actual Pein was probably blinking somewhere from the sudden loss of sight and kicking at his wheelchair.

‘I bet he’s so confused.’

She cackled, tossing her head back and letting her blood-stained china fall from her hand.

“Serves you right, asshole,” Aiko wheezed. “With your creepy jutsu and shit.” She controlled herself enough to bend and wiggle out one of the metal piercings powering the corpse. She was kinda curious about how that worked. It wasn’t really her style to be so far removed from a fight (that seemed like it would take the fun out of things) but it never hurt to pick up a technique.

Kisame cleared his throat just as she tucked the jewelry into her bra for safekeeping. Aiko turned around to see that he was holding out a clean teacup with a suspiciously neutral expression.

“Thank you.” She took it. She let him pour her a new cup.

‘Well, he did come from Mist. I think succession does traditionally go that way.’

“What now?” Hoshigaki Kisame was completely unfazed. Perhaps he could be described as politely interested, but that would be a stretch.

Aiko shrugged. The answer was obvious. ‘Pein will regroup and come charging in here, a lot more prepared this time, at which point I will get the hell out of town.’

Of course, she knew that, and Konan would know that, but no one else would. It wasn’t like Pein went around explaining the fundaments of his techniques and letting the implied weaknesses hang in the air.

“I’m taking command of this boyband,” Aiko decided, spinning her now empty cup around the table with a finger. “You will be the cool one. Kakuzu-kun can be the one with a beard; Deidara-san is the eye candy, and Konan-chan is our manager. Oro- is Orochimaru here? If so, he’s our androgynous, hypnotically dangerous backup singer.” She pretended to think, tapping at her chin. “And Itachi-kun can just go home and think about his life choices.”

Kisame eyed her up for a long moment. He shrugged without offering comment.

There was a snigger. “I am the cute one,” Iwa no Deidara agreed from the door, delighted. He stepped over Pein’s feet and pulled out a chair with an obnoxious scraping sound. “So who the hell are you, yeah?”

“Aiko, pleased to meet you.” She favored him with a nod. Both men stiffened a little when she clapped her hands as loudly as possible. She injected seriousness into her tone. “Okay! So. The actual plan.” They waited. She noted that Uchiha Itachi and Akasuna no Sasori were listening from another room. “You will play the biwa,” Aiko decided, pointing at Kisame with her whole hand. He lifted an eyebrow. “Deidara-san, you’re on percussion. I’m talking controlled explosions, in the crowd, laying down the beat.”

The blonde leaned forward, enraptured. Someone, probably Sasori, made a disgusted sound from the back of their throat. Kisame just shrugged, not protesting or agreeing.

And Pein was moving toward her position fast, angry and covering a lot of ground. Aiko made one last brilliant attempt to baffle them with bullshit, forcing her body language to remain loose and untroubled as she got up to rinse out her cup. “Anyway, eat your vegetables and look both ways before you cross the street. Tell Konan that I’m sorry about her shoes when you see her.” She probably cut off her last word, using Hiraishin to flee the country when Pein blew through the front wall.

She collapsed on the floor to cackle as soon as she was sure she was safe, heart pounding and cheeks aching from repressed smiles.

‘I’ve only been up a few hours, and I think I’ve raised an impressive amount of hell.’

chapter 2

“I don’t know.” Naruto’s voice was contemplative. Aiko didn’t bother to look, but she knew that he’d be screwing his face up. That was what he did when his voice was like that. “This seems like a bad idea. The Daimyo have rules about their nobles visiting capitals for a reason.”

Aiko kicked her heels against the side of the building. From her perch, the evening wind was sending spikes of cold against her flesh, raising goosebumps against her flesh wherever it hit. “It’s not that bad. Money’s good. Not even killing anyone.”

What did she care if the Cloud Daimyo demanded his advisors send their wives to live with him for the length of appointments? Okay, having live-in hostages did ensure excellent behavior and keep workers on task. But it wasn’t her problem.

“Who are you talking to?”

Her conscience, duhhhh.

‘He is a good bodyguard. Nice and forgettable.’

“No one,” Aiko snapped. Aiko rolled her shoulder, joints creaking unpleasantly as she came back to the real world. ‘Maybe it’s time to go in.’

She stood and stretched without making eye contact with her impromptu partner. She pushed past him, letting her bored, disdainful expression speak for itself.

Haru furrowed his brow and craned his head to be absolutely certain that there was no one else around before he followed Aiko inside.

Aiko heard the intentional scuff and tap of his footsteps behind her, sounds as steady as heartbeat. He sounded like a perfectly capable civilian-type retainer and personal bodyguard. Without knowing, she probably wouldn’t have picked him out as some C-list missing nin hastily hired so that no scrupulously honest retainer would have a chance to notice that something was different about the lady of the house lately. Aiko sighed, reluctantly impressed with his commitment to his role. It wasn’t like she was trying very hard.

That in mind, she adjusted her posture to adapt the feminine, shuffling walk that made a woman in kimono look as though she was floating. Since her henge faithfully reproduced the expressions of her real face underneath, Aiko schooled her face as well.

‘Boring.’

The real noblewoman was living in her husband’s retinue under disguise as a maidservant. They thought it was terribly clever and daring. Aiko fully expected that romantic notion to fail in an ugly fashion when the realities of manual labor set in, or when someone inevitably noticed the switch.

But in the meantime, it wasn’t so bad to be paid handfuls of ryo to wear beautiful clothes, order around a household, and lounge. Going to parties sucked, but it was a mission. It couldn’t be all fun and sitting alone in the dark.

The mission had been a lucky break. It was the kind of thing that the client wouldn’t have wanted to take to an official shinobi mission desk: all governments had to at least give face service to respecting each others’ institutions. It was one thing to infight with other shinobi nations, but Daimyo were a system unto themselves. At least theoretically, shinobi owed Daimyo allegiance. Risking that relationship just wasn’t worth it.

Missing nin, not so much. They couldn’t possibly be any more politically incorrect.

‘It takes so long to get anywhere walking like this.’

Despite her frustration, Aiko steeled herself to match her pace to the calm rhythm of Haru’s breathing. They went down stairs and passed into the less public areas of the palace.

Haru made a small, surprised sound, and then a rattling inhalation.

Aiko flung her body to the side before she tried to look. The movement barely got her out of another shinobi’s lunging attack path. The hunter-nin had already adjusted, breathing out licks of fire.

For just one second, Aiko took in the scene. Haru’s knees buckled and his ponytail was streaming behind him as he fell, surprise forever plastered on his features. One Mist hunter-nin was behind him- the other’s jutsu was roaring across the last few inches of distance.

She was gone before she consciously thought that she should move.

Well, fuck that job. It clearly wasn’t worth the pay, if- if-

Mist hunter nin were involved? Without paying any notice to the squirrel that chattered in surprise and darted out of a broken window, Aiko sank down to sit.

‘Mist hunter nin wouldn’t care about some official’s wife. They were there for a shinobi- me, or Haru.’

She didn’t know shit about who Haru really was. Maybe he was a Mist nuke-nin, although she’d honestly guessed he was from Iwa.

‘But I do know that I startled the Mizukage, and he may be under the impression that I got past all his security and tried to kill him.’

“Oops,” Aiko said despondently. The empty hideout she’d traveled to on reflex did not answer, though curtains rustled in the wind. She sighed, pushing herself up to stand. She took a quick look around the room- that window had clearly broken at least a week back, and nature was attempting to move in- and rolled her eyes.

At least some things could be relied upon. Obito was still a pig.

It probably wasn’t a good idea- he would know that someone had been here, and probably freak the fuck out- but Aiko found it soothing to rummage up the tools to patch the hole with sturdy cloth over the whole window. It wasn’t professional quality, but it’d keep leaves and rain out. Maybe not the squirrels though.

‘Whatever. I have bigger problems than squirrels.’

Cranky, Aiko tossed the hammer over her shoulder, suddenly done with distracting herself. She did not investigate the ominous clattering sounds that resulted.

‘I’m probably being tracked. Nuts or not, the Mizukage would probably make the pursuit of a supposed assassin a high priority. He’d be concerned about stopping the security holes that let me in and preventing embarrassment, if nothing else.’

Just bloody typical. She was in trouble for something she didn’t actually do. With all the shit that she actually pulled, it was fucking offensive that she was getting bothered for minding her own business.

Hiraishin was probably the only reason they hadn’t caught up to her before. It was pretty fucking hard to track someone who could travel instantaneously. They must have either been really lucky or ferociously determined to find her at all.

‘Then how did they find me this time?’ She stopped to consider the situation, brow furrowed. ‘They’d circulate my description, probably hit on the same hotspots that I know of to find unsanctioned missions….’

“Son of a bitch,” Aiko cursed under her breath. “Someone sold me out!”

Only explanation. Either Haru- and if he had, Mist hadn’t kept up their end of that deal- or the broker who had hooked her up with the contract. Or someone else working in that household could have recognized her and sold her out. That seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t dismiss it entirely.

‘This isn’t going to go away without a damn good reason.’

Like… A new Mizukage, for example? Killing the current Mizukage and leaving Kiri with bigger problems to worry about? Or just unacceptable losses to personnel that prompted the administration to back off?

The little Naruto-ish part of her consciousness tapped a foot against the floor.

“One of these things is not like the other,” he pointed out waspishly. “We should find Mei-nee-chan and help her out, then.”

Aiko shook her head to dismiss the input. “No. No way. Mei was in the Mizukage’s personal guard squad, playing off the loyalists and the rebels. I can’t access her.”

But she definitely could go kill some Mist-nin.

Naruto would find a way to do this peacefully, make the opportunity himself if he had to. But Aiko cracked her neck, stripped off the far-too-fancy kimono she was wearing, and went back to the capital city in the gear she’d had under the dress.

She’d sell the kimono there. If the Mist hunter-nin were worth anything at all, they’d track her down again and follow her to attempt to finish her again. They’d think she was still in the area somehow- anything else was just too unbelievable.

Sure enough, Aiko picked up a tail not long after leaving the pawn shop. She wasn’t surprised: the owner had haggled nervously and stalled long enough that he almost had to have been tipped off.

They didn’t attack her on the streets.

That wasn’t so strange. They were operating in a foreign nation.

They didn’t attack her when she stopped for the night at an inn on the outskirts of town. Her personal shadows stayed far back enough that it was completely plausible that they thought she didn’t know they were there.

That restraint was a little odd, but understandable. It made sense to wait until she was totally alone, if they were more cautious than eager.

When no one made a move after Aiko had been out of civilization for four hours, she had to admit that something else was going on.

‘New orders?’ She wondered, working down the itch of tension in her shoulders. Even under the security seals and traps and genjutsu that she set up at night, she wasn’t getting much rest under constant watch. ‘Maybe they’re just here to observe for now. They’ve probably figured out that if they show their faces, I slip away. So they’re just watching, staying quiet so that they don’t scare me off. ’

Not like that was a good thing. That was situational analysis- they wanted to figure out who she was and how she kept slipping away.

‘They’re probably waiting for backup.’

Or…

On a hunch, Aiko altered her path after she stopped for lunch. She’d left the city on the most obvious route, headed towards the next large settlement. It had been what she would have done, if she had really been a rogue nin desperate to make some money and get what resources they had after a mission gone wrong.

(Some part of her mind laughed until it cried because hell, how was that not what she really was, the only difference was that geographical restraints about seeking necessary shelter and supplies and work didn’t apply)

The Mist hunter-nin scattered, falling far enough behind that she actually couldn’t sense them. And then they came back at her from another direction, angry sparks of killing intent heralding an all but literal flight.

‘Oh shit.’

It was actually pretty intimidating. Powerful. Almost familiar. But that was nuts, how many Kiri nin would Aiko recognize by chakra?

There was really only one thing to do: turn to the course they wanted her to take. Aiko turned and started running in the direction they were herding her. Her pumping heartbeat and nerves were loudly suggesting that she sprint, but her head knew better. No, she needed a pace she could keep up for a long time. A day or more, if she had to, and then still be capable of putting up a fight.

‘Sometimes, I hate being right.’

Two pursuants, and they were probably the ones she’d encountered before. Aiko tried to remember the brief glimpse she’d gotten- both were slim, but one was so small that they had to be a child or a petite woman. The other was unremarkable, she thought.

‘They’re trying to force me into a trap,’ she diagnosed. ‘They almost certainly have backup. Or maybe just a situation heavily weighed in their favor. Tiring me out couldn’t hurt, either. Why am I doing what they want?’

Aiko wavered with indecision. It was a bad idea to go ahead with this. She didn’t know what they had planned, but she knew the goal was not to her benefit.

‘I’m not immortal.’

She shivered, stumbling when her foot landed oddly in an indented rock she hadn’t noticed. But she didn’t stop running.

‘They really could kill me if I stay. Why act how they expect? I can just up and leave.’

But then she wouldn’t know what she was up against at all. Their next move would be a genuine surprise. If they’d gone for her first instead of Haru, she’d be dead right now.

That was chilling. She hadn’t considered it much, but- she hadn’t heard them, had she? Or smelled them or seen them or-

‘They’re really good. That’s the kind of silent killing that Mist is actually famous for. I’ve never dealt with that before.’

Aiko clenched her jaw.

‘I don’t think I can afford to let them catch me unawares again. This team has to die, for sure.’

When they were sure she was on track, the Mist team pretended to lose ground. They fell back, chakra fading. The rate was gradual but sure, a trick to keep her moving but feel safe enough to at least consider that she had outpaced her pursuers.

‘Do they seriously think I’m stupid?’

Well. To be fair, if she was panicking, desperation and hope might prompt her to hope she’d really lost them.

She couldn’t sense them at all. They could be staying further behind. They could just be really, really good at keeping a low profile.

Either way, she did not stop running. Her feet ached and her chest hurt and her breath was coming in gasps despite her restraint but she did not stop running. Pain began to shoot up her knees with every step throughout the night- She must have twisted her ankle without knowing, blinded by adrenaline.

The air turned cold. The moon was out. And that was when a familiar well of chakra roared to life a few miles from her position. It was nearly ahead- a bit south and east of her position, but too close to ignore-

And-

And she didn’t really have much choice but to drop the game and use a burst of Hiraishin speed to cover the last of the difference, because if the Mist-nin thought they could somehow get two missing nin at once, she either had to leave entirely or assist Utakata before she got pinned against a hostile, irrational jinchuuriki with hunter-nin sandwiching them in.

A deep, distant part of her was reluctantly impressed with that bit of ingenuity. Stressing and pissing off two powerful opponents, knocking them together, and then being there to wipe up the winner was a labor-efficient plan.

And crap on a cracker, the Mist nin had accidentally hit on a tactic to create a situation she was unwilling to desert. Utakata would be killed if he was dragged back to Mist. Was Obito already in Kiri? She couldn’t leave. It’d be delivering him a bijuu. That’d be losing. She didn’t lose, not even when no one else knew they were in opposition.

Utakata was already half-bijuu, leaking poison and sharp bits of shells and screaming a clawed strike through the air.

Somehow, the one hunter nin she could see managed to look surprised even behind their mask. The moment spent gaping at her sudden appearance cost him- a thin, whiplike tail snared his ankle. He screamed, but only for a moment. Utakata bellowed a stream of green-tinged bubbles at the hunter-nin. They melted his mask to his face with a horrible hissing sound and the smell of cooking meat.

Her stomach jolted.

The hunter nin went down with a strangled scream, fingers scrabbling at the molten porcelain before falling into throes of convulsion.

‘Why did I think Utakata was a delicate flower again?’

She hit the ground, more instincts than person. Utakata tore through the earth behind her, great strains of chakra sludging together into something that was more of a cudgel than a whip.

“I’m not an enemy!”

Aiko flipped backwards, trying to find something human in Utakata. His pupils were blown wide open, and his lips curled up in a snarl.

‘This is why they provoked him. He’ll attack anyone who gets close by, exhaust himself, and then be easy to pick off.’

She really should just leave. Utakata had survived this before, probably. Or situations like it. Maybe not ones quite that bad. He’d… he’d figure it out. She couldn’t see how he could escape this.  It was probably her fault he was in this situation.

Her brain told her to cut her losses. Her tired body made an alternate suggestion, chakra moving to form chains before she’d consciously had the thought.

‘Secure him. Make him stop. The less time he’s like this, the less damage to his body. I have minutes before the other hunter-nin get here. I need to make it count. If they didn’t want to fight either of us, I could probably take them by myself if I need to. I can’t afford to be watching fighting Utakata at the same time.’

She caught the largest tail manifestation, but it slipped away, re-manifesting outside of her grip and she groaned. There was roaring and crashing in her ears and the sound of chains clanking, heat pressing her skin and burns welling up and Utakata was a blur of dodging and striking and hell, if he would just stop moving she could-

Latch a chain around his body. Aiko winced when the restraint connected, whipping around Utakata’s torso to wind all the way around. But she didn’t pull back, even when she heard the unmistakable sound of a rib cracking under too-much-pressure, she really needed to practice with chakra chains more often.

She had him down. She forced him away from her and his chakra levels were sinking, forced to recede from contact with her chains but she was working open the straps on her kunai pouch to snag out her kunai. Now that they wouldn’t be destroyed by demonic chakra, she hastily flung three kunai around her so that blades sunk into the dirt, leaving her in the center of a highly maneuverable field.

‘Using Hiraishin like this is too obvious. Someone might make the association, given time and luck.’

But she didn’t have a choice. She was tired enough that she needed the advantage.

Well. Those hunter nin definitely had to die.

Utakata slumped in his bonds, nearly human again. The faint but hidden signatures of her followers were coming out, probably alarmed and confused by how quickly the demonic chakra had receded.

Aiko waited in her Hiraishin field, with the one kunai she had left clenched so tightly in her hand that it cramped.

“You back with me yet?” she asked Utakata, not really expecting a response.

He made an odd, rasping sound. She realized a moment later that it was the sound of a bloody throat being cleared. “I had six,” Utakata said, and it might have been helpful or it might have been bragging.

“I think I only had two,” Aiko admitted, feeling the stupidest twinge of jealousy that Utakata was considered to be so much more dangerous than she was.

What did dumb old Kiri know anyway.

Well. He was already struggling to his feet, with mussed hair and singed clothes. That was intimidating.

She took a moment to weigh the risks and benefits of letting him get up instead of hitting him while he was down. He was not insensible or evil: Utakata was someone she could work with. On the other hand, he was a sensible missing nin. He wouldn’t trust her.

Well. Had to make a call.

“How fit are you?” Aiko asked, feeling her heartbeat pick up a nervous drumbeat. “I don’t think I can take eight hunter-nin. I’m close distance.”

‘I can always leave. The chances that Obito will be at any particular safehouse are minimal. I can go to one of those if it gets grim.’

“Seven now,” Utakata pointed out in a voice that was still wrecked by shallow breathing and a warped throat. “I don’t trust myself to use my special chakra right now. Long distance.”

So his abilities were severely compromised.

‘Good. Makes it less likely that he’ll feel comfortable attacking me afterward.’

“Anything to even the odds?” Aiko asked, very much missing her kit. “This is literally all I have.” She held up the one kunai in her hand. “My chakra is good, but physically I’m hitting a wall.” Admitting that stung, but denying it would be stupid. They were going into a disadvantageous situation together. Lying could get them killed.

Utakata glanced at the weapon, and then his eyes darted to the three in the dirt. He didn’t comment. “I have a fast-acting paralytic, but I can’t distribute it without risking reverting back at the moment.”

‘Hello!’

Aiko perked up at that. “How fast is fast?” She started walking, not eager to stay too close to the crumpled body and heavy scent of acid. The hairs in her nostrils were starting to singe from the vapors.

“A minute of exposure time will dull reflexes and perception; another minute will all but immobilize anyone who comes into contact.” Utakata’s forehead was creased, but his panting was beginning to slow. “An increased heartbeat and movement will accelerate the effects. Perhaps we will notice results in forty seconds. It’s my own blend.”

She waved off that warning. “I know,” Aiko acknowledged. “But I’m fast. Block me from exposure for even a couple seconds. I can use the gap between when they go and when I go.”

Aiko planted her feet shoulder-width, closed her eyes, and reached into her coils for the chakra that came most naturally to her. Water. She opened her mouth and forced it out, pushing and pushing a spout of water that splashed over her feet and gouged against the peat. Clearly catching on, Utakata tapped his little bubble pipe twice and blew through it. A sickly yellow material gooped out the end, plopping in the decent sized pool of water that Aiko was still working on.

‘So it’s the bijuu who allows him to make the bubbles?’ Aiko theorized. ‘He actually has the different materials in the pipe and releases them by pushing different parts of the thing.’

“Wait until the last second,” Utakata counseled, his dark gaze already narrowing on the direction he had been running from. And then he… began taking off his kimono?

“Now is not the time!” Aiko hissed, confused and upset and just a little turned on.

The look he shot her was absolutely withering. He slipped off the outer layer entirely, revealing that he had a loose white robe on underneath.

“This is water resistant,” Utakata said stiffly. “It should give you a few seconds advantage.”

Oh. Right. Aiko pulled the thing on hastily. He’d said to wait, but they only had seconds, so she gritted her teeth, gripped all the tainted water, and forced it into the atmosphere. The air instantly hung heavy.

She was planning on making more of a fog than a precursor to rain, to be honest. The fog could be an attempt to obscure vision.

Something moved. Aiko jerked her gaze down, registered, ‘Oh, it’s just the fog coming up,’ and went back to her jutsu before she realized something.

It wasn’t her fog.

In sheer surprise, she let her hold on the water slip. Yes, it definitely wasn’t her fog.

‘They had the same strategy we did. Well. The same tool, anyway.’

Aiko took a moment to exchange an incredulous glance with Utakata, who looked like he might be

stifling a startled laugh.

It really wasn’t funny. That technique probably meant that the Kiri nin were more than prepared to fight without visibility.

The fog that the Kiri-hunter nin were bringing up from groundwater puffed up to hip height in the instant before the first masked figure darted into view.

They faltered, jerking for a fraction of an instant at visual confirmation. Probably surprised that Aiko was standing with Utakata.

But the nin decisively moved for Utakata.

The last of the fog closed up above Aiko’s head, obscuring everything more than three feet away.

Aiko bared her teeth and darted forward. Utakata was swaying, but clearly ready to engage in taijutsu. She got between the two as the hunter-nin brought down a naked blade in an overhead move that would be difficult to block.

‘They thought I’d be dead. Their strategy was just for Utakata.’

Insulting, but it did present opportunity. Their strategy would be geared towards taking down Utakata, not the two of them working in tandem.

Sparks flew. Aiko grunted, straining with the effort of holding her kunai against the middle of the mid-length blade. She registered that it was a double sided blade.

It had been aimed to cut down Utakata, who was taller than Aiko. Her arms were almost entirely outstretched, directly above her head.

Muscles trembled. She would have been making eye contact if she could see anything through the shadows cast by the ghostly white mask. Her jaw clenched.

The hunter-nin disengaged, sword rearing up and then whipping around as he swiveled, bringing the blade around to his left. Aiko let her knees buckle and her haunches hit her heels. The lightning-fast sideways swipe bit through her trailing ponytail. She rolled forward, coming to her feet behind him. She was going to turn, to cut at him before he could turn around-

Aiko sprang up, over the low swept kick from a second hunter-nin. With her feet off the ground she twisted, eyes wide at the incoming blow from hunter-nin number three.

‘This sucks.’

She didn’t recognize the weapon. Some kind of spear running wet with droplets of water. She couldn’t dodge it.

The world shifted. She sprang away from the exact center of her three kunai. She zeroed in on the nin with their backs facing her.

Her kunai was out, destined to slip under the place between neck and skull. The nin was turning, but not fast enough.

And then Aiko wheezed, sent stumbling sideways by a hard-packed doton jutsu the size of an orange. Her ribs creaked where the blow had connected. She caught a glimpse of her attacker, barely visible through the mist.

She heard Utakata curse, and the sound of metal connecting, but she couldn’t go to help him.

“The dance floor is pretty full!” Aiko shouted, strain and pain pitching her voice higher.

No one responded. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting.

The nin with the doton had backed off, moved out of sight.

‘A defensive fighter. No, not exactly. A protective fighter. More like a bodyguard than anything else.’

Aiko huffed and made a tactical retreat away from where she thought the hunter-nin were. She sunk her chakra back into the pooled water, forcing it to dissipate up and replace the other fog. Aiko waited with her heart in her throat, counting off seconds until the crucial moment of Utakata’s time estimate.

There were splashes in the distance. Five seconds. Grunting through the fog. Ten seconds.

There was a whisper of steel cutting air. Aiko whipped to the left, already trying to predict the second, third, and fourth shuriken that came on the first weapon’s heels. She didn’t hear the fifth winging behind the fourth, but she felt it tear through the muscles of her shoulder. The blade kept spinning for part of a rotation, the initial spike squelching out of her flesh and the next digging in only halfway. Its bite was lessened by the loss of momentum but oh hell, it hurt both times it cut. Aiko choked, flinching with the sudden ringing in her ears. She kept moving to evade the subsequent projectiles, but she didn’t even register how many there were.

The shuriken that hit her was flopping, tugging and nearly falling out of her flesh but not coming out.

Bile rose. She was hyper sensitive to every movement of the steel in her skin.

It felt like a hallucination, streaks of light glinting off metal and shadows moving through fog heavy water that weighed down her clothes and hair and-

‘The moisture got through Utakata’s clothes already,’ Aiko realized. She pulled out the shuriken. She held it between the knuckles of her free hand, since she couldn’t turn down a weapon.

Twenty seconds since she’d poisoned the fog. The time she had between when her muscles would fail and when the kiri-nin would flag was somewhere between ten and twenty seconds.

‘I need to find whoever is throwing this shit.’

It wasn’t hard to find the general direction- the gouge in her arm pointed back to its origin. Aiko crossed the distance in a second, breathing deep and trying to catch a scent or hear breathing or-

The scuff of a foot. Aiko took the distance at a leap, leading with a two-footed kick and hoping to connect or at least land easily in the poor visibility. She made contact, sandals plowing into a flat chest. She rode the thrower to the ground, bending forward to cut out their throat. She half expected them to be fast enough to block- most of the team had been.

This hunter-nin wasn’t. Her blade opened up an unprotected neck. Heat splattered up her forearms and shins. She was pretty sure it was the small hunter-nin that had been following her before.

Aiko leapt off, flicking her blade clean as she went. She moved away from her kill, aware that the Mist-nin were tracking through the mist somehow.

Six hunter-nin left. Twenty five seconds down.

She turned her ear in the direction of a gurgling breath. A body hit the ground. Aiko held her breath and hastily worked the stretchy headband off her scalp, pulling it up her arm and twisting it to serve as a rough sort of compress. She didn’t hear anyone get up.

Five hunter-nin left? Maybe?

No. Confirm all kills. Don’t assume. Aiko tracked back the sound and nearly stumbled over a kiri-nin. Her mask had fallen off and she was clutching at her chest, struggling for breath. Blood and spit were trailing down her tan face.

Aiko grimaced. Her chest armor was collapsed inward from a blow. The body underneath it had to be dying. Slowly.

The Kiri nin was a bit preoccupied, thin lips working in silent words and eyes creased shut. She didn’t notice Aiko. It was a mercy kill.

Thirty seconds down.

A scream of rage cut the air. Aiko’s neck prickled in premonition. A gust of wind tore across the plateau, pushing open the fog. The hunter who’d summoned it was crouched over the body of the long distance specialist.

Was it the doton user? Looked like.

‘Must be his partner,’ Aiko thought in the moment before the mist normalized again. She didn’t have time for another thought, because the nin was bearing down. Aiko darted to the side, and pushed away a punch.

The air was suddenly stiflingly hot. The mist nin leapt up, poised for something. The lizard part of Aiko’s brain recognized it. She moved.

Aiko had gone back to her kunai before she understood why. She’d moved before she knew who she was facing.

She couldn’t see the result of that last jutsu, but the area was much, much hotter, and the air was sizzling.

‘That nin used fire jutsu yesterday. Earth earlier. Wind to move the fog, and something hot again just now,’ Aiko catalogued numbly. ‘That’s a lot of elemental proficiency for one person.’

All the pieces were there. But she didn’t want to cope with the fact that she was facing down Mei. The hunter-nin looked like a man in that unisex armor. What was Mei doing so far from Kiri?

‘Well. Hunter-nin are the elite. Not a bad place for a kage to come from.’

This was ridiculous. Mei belonged in Kirigakure. She should go back to Kirigakure. Aiko was going to file a complaint.

‘What do I do?’

Kill Mei in order to keep Utakata and herself safe?

Refuse to fight Mei and instead abandon Utakata to die alone?

Leave Mei alive, to remember Aiko far too early?

The options and considerations were all bad. Utakata wouldn’t let her spare Mei. He would fight until all the hunter-nin were dead or until he was. But she wanted both Mei and Utakata alive.

‘She’s got to go.’

Mei came barreling toward her again, infuriated but collected enough not to spew lava blindly. This time, Aiko dropped into an athletic stance, tucked away her kunai, and let the shuriken hit the floor. She leapt forward to slap the future Mizukage open-palmed on her clothed thigh and twist away. The sting probably disguised the seal Aiko planted, but she didn’t wait to see. Mei was straightening, turning to come flying at Aiko again.

Aiko inhaled sharply and hiraishin’d twice, clutching blindly at Mei’s hip in the space between travels. This time Mei reacted fast enough for a blow to connect. Aiko couldn’t see what had happened but suddenly she was flying backwards and holy hell her torso was going to be one big bruise tomorrow. She hit a coral outcropping with her side and rolled, body twisting to make some semblance of a landing despite the fact that she couldn’t breathe and her body was stinging pain down to her elbows and fingertips and bursting cold hurt against her ribs.

Somehow, Aiko landed on top of the water. Mei fell in with a surprised splash. The hunter-nin burst out in an explosion of steam, but Aiko was already gone.

‘Time to never think about how I may have just fucked up the future.’

She shook her head to clear it. Aiko stifled a hysterical giggle and took stock of the situation. The…

The mist was falling. Of course it was. She’d left and lost control of it. It was seeping down and dissipating, only obscuring about five feet above the ground and sinking fast.

Her kunai was in her hand before she thought to grab for it. But that was strange- her fingers were clumsy. They felt numb against the metal.

‘I stopped counting,’ Aiko realized. ‘It must be past forty seconds. Poisons often affect extremities first.’

The mist was thinner. She could see shapes as far as six feet away- and they could see her too. Someone leapt at her. Thinking of moving as little as possible to keep her heartrate down, Aiko pulled away with Hiraishin.

She didn’t move too far- the nin followed. She snapped away again, stopping in between her poor abandoned kunai this time.

The hunter-nin stepped in her triangle of discarded kunai, a chokuto flashing so fast that Aiko couldn’t actually track the movement. She could see that the movement jerked and faltered. The sword flew out of the kiri elite’s grip.

‘Embarrassing.’

They might have been staring in disbelief. Aiko didn’t stop to check, concentrating much more than she normally would to whip her kunai out.

It flew straight but not true: instead of sinking into the dip between the clavicle, it fell to the left side of the chest.

It must have scraped the bone. It was so close to an instant kill shot. But it wasn’t. The svelte mist-nin clutched at the weapon and ripped it out. It clattered against rocks and spun to skid into a puddle.

‘Bad move. He might have lived if he’d left it in until he got a medic. Not that I was going to let that happen, but still. Ouch.’

Aiko winced in sympathy but still tracked the way that her sole weapon fell.

‘Maybe that’s better. He’ll bleed out faster without that stopping it up.’

She should kill the Kiri nin herself, just to be sure. She should. She was tired. She went after her weapon. She felt slow and sluggish. There was a pressure, like a hand pushing at her chest. No, not a whole hand. Two fingers pressing against the place where she had tried to hit the mist nin, or maybe a little lower. Breathing was hard.

Aiko felt her knees tremble.

The mist was down to her hips at that point. Her vision was blurry, but she could see enough. The hunter-nin who had been so proficient at the start of the fight were slowing and becoming clumsy. They were moving like genin, not elites of the most vicious military culture in the continent.

Utakata took the remaining three nin down in less than ten seconds.

Aiko rested her face in her hands.

Sandals squished softly against vegetation and sodden ground when he turned to observe her. He didn’t say anything.

“Do you keep andi-antidotes?” Aiko asked, rolling her clumsy tongue around her mouth. She blinked. Her eyes were heavy. So were her limbs.

A sigh. “I suppose.”

She had enough presence of mind to crack her eye open and flinch away from the syringe Utakata presented to her. She was on her knees. When had that happened? She let him administer the shot. It didn’t help that much. Her hands stopped twitching and shaking, but she was still tired and dizzy.

“Lack of sleep and bloodloss,” Utakata diagnosed. He sounded bored.

Oh. Right. She should wash out her wound and get liquids. Aiko peeled open her eye to check. Her entire arm was covered in blood, as was a good deal of the left side of her torso.

It could wait. She had lingering curiosity to satisfy about the nin who had been Mei’s partner. As she walked she felt a bit steadier. It was a little tricky to find the body in the fog. All she could see of most of the bodies were feet, smooth white masks, and maybe a bit of chest or oddly bent legs. The rest was still sunk in white twirls of liquid poison.

The mask of that first kill was a clever thing, held to the head with laces of clear string and a weighted curve. Her hand shook when she lifted it, taking care not to let any hooks catch on sweat-tangled hair or one bloody ear. Blue lips, blue hair. Dark grey eyes that were glazing over. The boy was maybe thirteen.

Sometimes, she really hated being right.

Aiko sat back on her heels and contemplated the little corpse in such meaningful uniform. Black ops clothing really shouldn’t come sized for children.

‘The hems are long so it can be let out. This… this is going to be a lot closer to my proportions than any of the other uniforms.’

She licked the inside of her teeth, feeling the holes between the bits of white bone.

“Are you done?” Utakata’s irritation lifted over the distance between them.

She sighed. “Back off.” She pushed the child’s face to the side so that she didn’t have to see it before continuing to strip the body. She felt slow, and her arms shook from some of the effort. But she got it done alone.

Utakata made a sound of disgust, but didn’t interfere.

“An outfit like this should be in everyone’s closet,” Aiko lilted, keeping the seriousness she felt out of her voice. “There’s one in your size over there.”

It took far too much energy to banter. She needed to get somewhere safe and crash.

“No, but thank you for the offer.” Utakata sounded like he was examining his nails. “Not that this hasn’t been enjoyable, but I should really be going.”

Fair enough.

Aiko set the mask on the rest of the gear and rolled the fabric up. She tucked the sad little bundle under her arm. The poison had probably been neutralized at that point. “You set up for the night?” she asked tonelessly.

“There are probably more of them around here.”

She hoped not. But counting on that would be a bad idea.

The jinchuuriki scoffed. “Of course.” His crisp, rude tone was somewhat undermined by the sound of rustling fabric that came a moment later. Fidgeting? “Are you going to take care of the bodies?”

Somewhere in that prodding question was an offer.

Aiko shot him a look that as more tired gratitude than a smile. “I’d better do it myself. I’ve done a lot of this.”

Utakata backed down immediately, picking up on her implication that she’d had Black Ops training. He stood back and observed without comment as she took care of the mess. The audience was uncomfortable, but Aiko stoically bore through it. She didn’t have much choice- it would be preferable if Kiri didn’t get an opportunity to examine the bodies to determine how they were killed. It was even more crucial that Kiri not realize there was someone wandering around disguised as one of their own. That could come in handy.

‘I’ll have to wash this first, though.’

Not that it was that bloody. She’d worn worse before. No, it was more the faint traces of personal scent and the dango the nin had eaten and flecks of mud on the hem that told a story about the preteen boy who’d lived in the uniform not so long ago

She shuddered. Which wasn’t like her at all. She didn’t care about dead strangers. Not even preteens.

‘I need to go to bed. I’m too tired to be sensible.’

Utakata huffed, sounding pissy. She glanced over- and her eyebrows shot up.

His body language was blown wide open- hips and feet pointed toward her, chest aligned- but his neck was twisted so that he could avoid looking at her. The overall effect was striking, but posed.

“If you’re done crying over the sakura blossoms, I’d like to leave,” he drawled. He was looking away and didn’t catch her flinch- it was a common metaphor, but oh god it felt like a slap in the face. “I don’t need your help, but I doubt you’ll make it on your own.”

‘I get along fine.’

Aiko dredged up enough good humor to almost smile.

She should thank him and send him on his way. His offer was well-meant, but she would actually be better off alone. The Hiraishin was secret. They’d have to hoof it, if she went with him. Traveling like that would take much more time, and she would spend much more money on living expenses than otherwise. Really, it was a stupid idea.

“Thank you.” She brushed dirt off her knees and didn’t sway too much when she began walking. Bed. She was en route for a bed. Tonight she was going to treat herself to a nice hotel, possibly even a spa. She might even pay for it this time.

Utakata sniffed. He walked beside her, close enough that she was sure he could prop her if she wavered. “Don’t thank me. I need my robe back. This is just until you wash it.”

‘It has a massive hole in it from the shuriken,’ Aiko thought. ‘It will have to be repaired or replaced. Has he not realized that?’

She kept her mouth shut.

“Do you plan on slowly bleeding out?”

Utakata sounded only mildly curious.

Aiko looked at her arm, bewildered about the whole thing. It had mostly stopped, hadn’t it? She touched the skin. It hurt. Of course it did. “Uh. I don’t have any medical supplies. It’ll wait until I can wash it.”

Her companion had apparently mastered an expression other than boredom. Unfortunately, it was, ‘disbelieving.’

“No supplies at- How have you survived on your own? You’re the worst missing nin I’ve ever heard of.”

“But you’ve heard of me?” Aiko raised her eyebrows in surprise, tilting her head to the side.

“No.”

chapter 3

“Think there are more mist nin around?” Aiko broached. Immediately, she thought of Mei. That hadn’t been what she’d meant. She wrapped the over-long sleeves of the borrowed robe around her waist and shivered. Funny. It was broad daylight, but she was getting chills.

“I do not know.” Utakata’s steps were steady and untroubled, disguising the pain he had to be in. She’d broken his ribs with her chains, hadn’t she? “I never worked with the hunter-nin. Perhaps they would not have taken the chance of losing the entire team.”

Aiko hummed through gritted teeth. She pressed on, ignoring the throbbing in her arm. It felt like it was swelling up around the band keeping it from bleeding all over.

They had walked two miles before Utakata spoke up again, prompted by the outlines of building on the horizon.

“Uzumaki-san. It might benefit us both to travel together for a time.”

She lifted her gaze to the small of his back. What was he playing at? He hardly seemed the social type. Was he thinking about stabbing her in the back later, so that no one could report on his activities?

“It might,” Aiko agreed neutrally. “Kiri would like to see us both dead.” Her shoulder ached in agreement.

He didn’t react to her suspicion or dry tone. “Any Kiri-nin who held back would be unaware that their comrades found the opportunity to push their targets against each other.”

Oh.

“They’ll be looking for you, not a young man and woman traveling together.”

Aiko felt her tired lips pull into a smile. She could get something out of this. “I see. Well, as long as you’re the considerate type of boyfriend.” She went to move her aching shoulder for emphasis, then thought better of it.

Utakata pushed his hair back. His pale, long-fingered hand was a sharp contrast against his dark locks. She kept looking even after his hand had moved back down to his hips. “In such a small town? It would be scandalous for anyone short of wedded to travel together.”

Aiko snorted, shaking off the strange moment. “Is that a proposal?”

He sounded a little amused. “More of a proposition.”

She rolled her neck. The left side was beginning to strain and twinge, stiff from the abuse that twinged up her muscles from her injured shoulder. “Sousuke, it’s shameful to let your wife walk alone when she is tired.”

Utakata stopped to let her catch up, standing at her right side. He snaked an arm around her waist. His grip was surprisingly firm. She leaned into it, using his arm for support.

“You would feel better if you hadn’t stayed up so late with your sister,” he scolded, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

Aiko went along with the conversation, establishing characters and history through conversation. “Aa, but you know Satoko. She has so much energy, even for a teenager.”

“You’re not nineteen anymore,” Utakata teased solemnly. “You should act your age.” Aiko scowled up at him, but took the opportunity to slip on a henge that made her look a little older. The trees were thinning out and town would be visible soon. It would be foolish to be spotted as herself if they were intending to elude suspicion.

Utakata snorted quietly when she covered the red in her hair with a powder blue shade. The guise she chose was inspired by a Kumo-nin she had seen once. Aiko concealed her injury, turning Utakata’s loose robe to a coat gallantly placed over her shoulders. Underneath, her already civilian outfit lost wrinkles and rips. She didn’t bother to change more.

The muscles in his forearm moved against her back when he made the handsigns for his own henge. He probably felt her shiver.

Aiko stared forward at the road, just fascinated with the point where the street began. She didn’t turn to look at the disguise he had chosen. It didn’t matter.

The town was busy, full of people who appeared to be rice farmers. They smiled and waved as soon as the shinobi walked into town. It was too small to have a proper inn. She stared at the handwritten sign outside the traveler’s restaurant, willing it to change through sheer force of will.

‘There has to be a real hotel somewhere. A spa. An onsen.’

“Rooms for rent.” Utakata jostled her side. “Isn’t that wonderful, Ami-chan?”

“Yes,” Aiko agreed grimly. She squeezed his arm until the skin turned white under her grip. “You should get us a room.” He winced under her grip and implication. She relaxed her hand, but didn’t let go. “Wouldn’t a rest be wonderful, love?”

“Of course.” Utakata led her in. An older lady walked to them almost immediately, round face stretched in a wrinkled smile.

“Welcome to Setoumachi! Please, may I get you lunch?”

‘Oh kami, it’s not even three,’ Aiko remembered. She was way too drained for it to be this early.

“Actually, we were hoping to rent your room.” Utakata sounded sheepish, friendliness softening the voice that was usually sharpened with genteel superiority. “Ano, it is so early I do not wish to trouble you, but…” his voice trailed off and he looked down at Aiko. She noted that his hair was now brown, and much less glossy than his usual shade. He looked closer to 25 than 17. “My wife is three months pregnant and finds travel more difficult than we expected.”

‘What a turd.’

It was a good story, though.

The proprietress melted immediately, giving a not-quite-subtle glance down at Aiko’s midsection, looking for a baby bump. Of course there wasn’t one. Aiko managed a tight smile and held Utakata’s robe shut.

“Of course!” The lady bowed quickly, all smiles and sharp movements. “Poor girl. You must be exhausted, Miss. Please, follow me. Your husband can pay later.”

‘Pregnant. Ridiculous. I don’t look pregnant at all,’ Aiko thought sullenly.

Outwardly, she smiled and offered a bow of her own. “You are very kind. Ano, I have a question. Is there a shop nearby?” When the woman nodded, Aiko turned doe eyes to Utakata. She didn’t even have a chance to get a question out.

“Hai, hai.” He patted her hand. “I will go as soon as you are lying down.”

She didn’t know what kind of story he’d come up with to explain why he needed so many bandages, but that wasn’t her problem.

When they were inside their room and the door had closed, Aiko raised an eyebrow in challenge at her companion. She was already peeling off Utakata’s ripped, bloody robe to have a better look at her arm. It was swollen. Oh, hell, that band needed to come off. She worked the elastic down to fall on the floor.

Utakata shook out his hair, shedding the affable act. “She did ask less questions,” he pointed out.

Aiko had to concede that. She balled up Utakata’s robe and tossed it at him.

When he caught the fabric, there was an audible crunch of dried blood moving under his fingers. That elicited a reaction. His face was caught between disgust and disbelief.

‘Hope I don’t have any bloodborn pathogens.’

“You wouldn’t make a pregnant woman do your laundry,” Aiko said, blinking soulfully.

He let the robe hit the floor. “I’ll get a new one.”

He had almost made it to the door when Aiko felt a little guilty. “I’ll replace it.” She pushed open the bathroom door, intent on washing up. “I have funds.”

Funds that were intended to sit safely out of circulation in case of emergency, but, you know. She could make more money. It wasn’t like she was giving a village a cut of her profits. She made bank nowadays.

Utakata didn’t say anything else before the door slid shut behind him. Aiko grimaced her way through a bath, working soap into her scrapes and the one ugly, dirty gash. At least the soap was gentle. Smelled like hyssop, though. Interesting choice. Her body was a mash of bruises- the worst of it was on her torso directly between her ribs, where a black and purple mottle showed what had to be the outline of Mei’s knee. But she also had purple spotted with red scrapes and bits of upraised flesh along her arms, right shoulder, and hip where she must have rolled along rock at some point. Oh, no, that was that coral outcropping, wasn’t it?

It was not the most pleasant bath she had ever experienced, even after she had finished emptying buckets over her head.

Utakata returned before she was done washing up. Aiko walked into the bedroom to see him laying out a futon. She stood back and watched, hair coiled up in a towel and clad in a spare set of civilian clothes.

He glanced up at her, and didn’t speak for a moment. He finished setting up the bedding.

‘He’s moving really well for someone whose ribs I broke this morning.’

Her arm throbbed. “If you treat my injuries, I’ll look at yours,” Aiko offered.

At that, he gave her a wry, sideways smile. “I think you know better than that, Uzumaki-san.” He straightened. “I will bandage your arm.”

She nodded and pretended she knew what he was talking about.

‘Oh wait, I think I do. He’s a jinchuuriki. It probably already healed.’

Would a jinchuuriki have much reason to pick up first aid?

Must have. He did a thoroughly decent job at patching her up. He didn’t even stick his finger inside the gash once. When he was done, Aiko rolled her arm to check the range of movement. “Thank you. I need to sleep. Will you take first watch?”

Utakata shrugged, listless. “And the second watch. I do not require much sleep.” He was staring at her, dark eyes narrowed. She didn’t know what he was getting at. She turned away.

“All right.”

Aiko crawled under the covers and almost immediately went to sleep. She woke, once, when she tried to shift on her side in her sleep. But she winced and rolled to her back again. When she woke again, she kept her eyes shut. Maybe if she was very still and quiet, she could fall back to sleep.

“It’s been seven hours.” Utakata sounded bored.

Aiko sighed and peeled off the covers. It was dark outside- probably not quite midnight. She leaned against the window. “It would probably be least conspicuous to wait until morning to head on.”

Unspoken was that she would prefer to put some distance between her and any possible Mist-nin nearby.

Utakata took a few moments to gather his thoughts. “Do you believe we should travel together?” He seemed completely uninterested, but he wouldn’t have raised the topic if that were true.

Aiko bit her lower lip. Yes. No. She was lonely. They’d never got on well. He could watch her back. He could stab her in it.

“Am I not what you expected?” Utakata tilted his head to the side, eyelashes covering most of his gaze. “I admit trepidation upon realizing that you forced my bijuu to recede. It seems convenient. However, I cannot ignore the potential value of such a skill.”

Oh. That’s why he cared.

Relief washed over her as soon as she understood that Utakata had an angle. That made sense. She smiled at him, eyes crinkling. He wasn’t friends with his bijuu yet, or at least had to acknowledge that Saiken could be used against him. He thought he could use Aiko’s abilities to counteract that weakness.

Utakata sniffed and turned away, preoccupied with fixing the futon so that he could get in. But when they left in the morning, they left together.

“Utakata-san. How do you feel about onsen?”

For the first time, he looked remotely approving. “I believe we could be at one by this time tomorrow.”

Aiko hefted her little pink bag full of storage seals and stolen clothes, thinking about a long soak in mineral water. “I think we deserve that.”

“After that, we deserve a spa.”

“And then beef for dinner,” Aiko agreed fervently. She’d even pay for that. Maybe.

“Mochi for dessert and then breakfast.”

She and Utakata shared a look.

“This partnership might work better than I had anticipated,” Utakata said thoughtfully.

Team Onsen took two weeks off for well-deserved pampering, and then another week for some gratuitous spoiling in a wealthy coastal town. They didn’t see another hunter-nin, but they spent more than either of them was truly comfortable with. Living the high life necessitated a lot of cold, hard, cash.

“I feel funny about not paying the massage therapists,” Aiko explained guiltily. “Sleeping in empty hotel rooms and sneaking into onsen doesn’t hurt anyone or take up too much of their time. But when it’s something else-”

“I understand,” agreed Utakata, who took the route of actually paying whenever he was the one taking charge. “Even your amorality has to have limits.”

“Does it?” Aiko asked wistfully. She closed her (stolen) wallet. “I guess I know where I could procure some funds.”

It only took a few days to find a supplier. Utakata took one look at the place, gave her an expression that implied, ‘No’, and said he’d wait at the hotel.

“Okay, hime,” Aiko muttered at his back. He stiffened, but kept walking.
It was fine. At least she knew he was going to be queasy about those kinds of things. When Aiko returned without any visible baggage, Utakata seemed somewhere between confused and warily proud.

She did not tell him that the goods were in storage seals, since it seemed a shame to disturb whatever growing faith he might have in her moral character.

“May I suggest an alternate methodology for improving our fiscal state?”

She stood back and let Utakata pick a nice, boring businessman. He helped him come to the conclusion that losing a rival would be worth paying a nice lump sum.

“Because that was soooo much better than what I picked?” Aiko asked doubtfully.

Her temporary partner gave her a dirty look. “Your selection catered to vice.”

‘What a crotchety old person.’

“Catered to vice?” Aiko shook her head in disbelief. “We just killed a guy. Your priorities are weird.”

Utakata made a show of counting out his money. “Hmm.”

She rolled her eyes and did not tell him that she had actually passed on product while he was sweet-talking their client. Her methodologies worked too.

Their next client was acquired through an information broker. Utakata scowled, but Aiko felt a sort of stubborn pride.

“Doing business this way has always worked for me,” she said under her breath while the paperwork was being retrieved.

Utakata gave her a dry look. “When was that, grandmother? I assure you that things have changed since your heyday.”

‘Grandmother?’

Aiko couldn’t respond.

Okay, so he was seventeen in this timeline and she was actually a little older than he was. But grandmother?

A scratchy, erping sound crawled up her throat.

“In all seriousness, I am curious. What are you, thirty five?” Utakata asked, sounding polite as anything.

At that, she lost her cool. Aiko whirled around and jammed her finger into his chest. “You’ve got to be kidding-”

“Should I come back?” The broker leaned over the counter, twirling her ponytail around her fingers. She seemed distinctly unimpressed. The brilliant orange and scarlet tattoos up her arms rippled with the fidgeting motion.

Aiko put her hand down. “No. We’re good, sorry.”

When they left, Utakata picked up their original conversation. “These people are risky to deal with,” he reminded. “They will choose the route that will be most financially beneficial. Without the protection of a state government, we are disposable.”

She gritted her teeth.

He wasn’t wrong. But real missing nin did this kind of thing all the time, and got by. Well. Most of them died doing it, but state shinobi died on official missions too. She didn’t need somebody else to arrange things for her all the time. He wasn’t her babysitter.

“It’s not a bad mission,” Aiko said, after a very long pause. “We’re just retrieving an item.”

“We’re crossing an international border.” Utakata sounded strangely nervous about that.

She shot him a look, a bit baffled by that. “What? It’s just Fire Country-”

Aiko fell silent. Right. She wasn’t a Fire Country citizen anymore. That would be a problem if they were apprehended.

Utakata was watching her face, she realized. But she didn’t know what was so interesting. She cleared her expression. He looked away.

“Is it strange that we are required to return to the broker to collect payment?” Utakata asked, uncomfortable. “I would think that the client-” he stopped when she shook her head.

“No, that’s normal.” Aiko laced her fingers behind her back. “When the subject is particularly sensitive, you often don’t meet the client or their representative directly. It provides more protection and deniability.”

The open, thoughtful expression Utakata gave her made him look young and inexperienced. Aiko scowled, looking away to the path ahead.

‘Thirty five. Honestly.’

They managed to let the topic drop. It didn’t come back up for the next couple of days, when the looming border crossing had their nerves stretched tight.

Her companion tilted his head up towards the sky, letting leaf-dappled light move over his features. Despite his running commentary, he seemed at peace out in the middle of nowhere. “I fear that this is a foolish mission. The possibility of gaining outside attention is too high.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “You said the last one I tried to pick was below your abilities,” she pointed out tiredly. “And… what the other thing?”

“Dignity.” He paused. “And it was below both for me,” Utakata acknowledged calmly. “I cannot speak for you.” His eyes weren’t even open. “But any mission that involves unnecessary and unidentified parties is nonsense. We should forget this mission.”

Her eye twitched.

“Sleeping in nice hotels is not nonsense,” Aiko rejected. “Just because you want to commune with nature-” here she fluttered her hands mockingly “-doesn’t mean that I should suffer.”

“You think I enjoy living rough any more than you do?”

When he was angry, he spoke differently, Aiko noted. How funny.

“Are you even listening?”

“No,” Aiko said honestly.

Utakata glowered in silence for most of the tragically nature-marred walk to the edge of Fire Country’s borders. They slipped over the border undisturbed.

Some level of Aiko was annoyed by that. Come on, what the hell was going on with border security? Two reasonably powerful and unaffiliated nin just walked into the country without so much as a, ‘Can I see your papers aaggh stop killing me I’m just doing my job?’

‘The country is too big for entire border to be properly patrolled,’ Aiko reminded herself. ‘It’s not like the perimeter outside of Konoha.’

That still wasn’t quite an excuse for the shoddy job that the Sandaime was doing of information dealing. The fact that team seven went out with no intelligence on Wave’s climate could only be the result of gross incompetency or blind negligence.

‘At least it’s not a big deal. Zabuza and Haku really aren’t a match for Kakashi. Most missing nin aren’t.’

She did not look at Utakata. She didn’t want to consider that matchup in too much detail.

In a pinch, she’d prefer to turn on Utakata. But really, it would be nice if he survived. Utakata was a jinchuuriki. Now that she was on team ‘Anyone But Obito, That Jerk,’ it made sense to protect all the jinchuuriki she could. Right?

‘Ew, I’m not getting soft. Am I?’

“I can’t figure it out.” Utakata’s voice was soft, but frustration tainted his words. “You know that I am a Kirigakure defector. Where are you from?”

Aiko blinked, caught off-kilter by the topic change. “I’m not a missing nin.” She regretted that honesty when Utakata gave her a shocked look. She shrugged, breaking eye contact.

He was clearly chewing over what he’d learned. But he didn’t ask.

They completed the mission with surprisingly little trouble. They got in and out, moving back over the border four days later with their gains. They took a hard pace on that first day, but slowed to a relaxing stroll once they were out of sight.

“You are strangely familiar with that household’s architecture,” Utakata insinuated.

Aiko sighed, wishing she knew a little less about Fire Country’s nobility. They were constantly engaged in petty fuckery. “If you’ve seen one Fire Country mansion, you’ve seen them all. They’re in competition to see who can have the stiffest, most old fashioned place. It’s some kind of status thing, antiquity.” She irritably waved away the thought. “Anyway,-”

A tree cracked.

“Missing nin!”

She hit the ground on reflex. She had to get up, because ANBU Tortoise was going to-

Wait. What?

“Dynamic entry!” Lee crowed, bouncing on his heels. Neji and Tenten were at his side, expressions somewhere between belligerent and embarrassed to be there.

Gai set his hands on his hips and beamed, a thumb up. “Dishonorable renegades! I am here to bring you to justice!”

“What,” Utakata said faintly. It wasn’t a question, because there was no question that should have Gai as an answer. Tenten looked away in what had to be sympathy.

Aiko patted the air in his general direction, as she got to her feet again. “It’s alright.”

“Alright?” This time, the bewildered expression he leveled was at her.

Light pinged off paper-white teeth. “Foul miscreants! You will return the stolen property and face trial for your misdeeds!”

“What,” Utakata repeated, voice small and bewildered.

“Shhh,” Aiko soothed. She took a step over to pat his hand. “I have this under control.” She passed over the little pink bag that held their ill-gotten gains and general supplies. Utakata took it numbly.

Then she struck her own pose, arms akimbo. “Shinobi of Konoha!” Aiko bellowed, a stupid grin pulling at her face. She faintly heard Tenten say, ‘Oh god’. “I reject your assessment of my moral character. You, sir, are the scoundrel!”

‘I’ve always wanted to do this.’

She had never actually seen Gai look so happy. Lee’s eyes were wide.

“I challenge you to a competition, to prove who is in the right!” Aiko pointed at Gai with her whole hand, making a chopping motion. He was frozen, all but quivering with excitement.

“We will prove the righteousness of our cause through strength of arms!” Gai bellowed. Something sparkled.

“No, a race!” Aiko countered. She could feel the instant that Utakata caught on.

‘Finally. He’s been traveling with me long enough that he should know I don’t do things I can’t win.’

“A-ha!” Gai fist-pumped. Lee mimicked the motion off to the side. “An unwise proposal, my fiendish friend. So you think you are fast? I have a most excellent speed-training regimen.” He flexed. “I never boast, but I run one thousand laps of Konoha in the morning, and 5oo at night. I carry lumber on my back in the morning, and pull sleds full of children up hill in the winter!”

That was actually impressive.

Then he pointed at her. “And you, missing-nin-san?”

“Oh, me?” Aiko pointed at her chest and blinked, lips pouting innocently. “What do I do? How do I practice my speed?”

Gai and Lee leaned into the theatricality of it all. Seemingly unconscious of her own attention, Tenten held her breath. Neji was glaring at the ground, with strangely pink cheeks.

“I run from Mist hunter-nin.” Aiko fanned her face with her hand.

Team nine collapsed in disappointment.

“You run from Mist hunter-nin?” Lee repeated, sounding doubtful.

Aiko nodded agreement. “Yeah.” She scowled, the emotion genuine this time, because hunter-nin were annoyingly persistent. She did expect to be seeing them again soon. “They just show up all the time: I impersonate Mist nobility, there’s Mist hunter nin. I find myself in cahoots with a Mist missing nin, there’s Mist hunter-nin.” She made a fist for emphasis, smacking it against her palm. “I take three hours to select candy from the machine- there’s Mist hunter nin.”

“Okay,” Gai said uncertainly. He exchanged a look with Lee. “Why?”

She shrugged. “The stupid Mizukage may be under the stupid impression that I attempted to assassinate him.” At that news, Utakata made a choked sound behind her. That did sound kind of bad. Aiko hastened to explain, “I didn’t, of course, I didn’t know the guy. I don’t care if he pissed or went

fishing.”

Well. That wasn’t true anymore.

Aiko corrected herself. “Well. I didn’t care then, but now he can go fuck a whole-”

“I of course believe the lady. Back to our race, missing-nin-san!” Gai suggested, smile a bit cracked.

“You cheated,” Utakata accused sullenly.

“Ninja,” Aiko reminded, sing-song. “Besides, I didn’t cheat. Not technically anyway. Neither of us said it was solely a footrace. If he didn’t want me to use ninjutsu, he should have said so.”

“You are a bad woman.”

‘Aww, he was just starting to think I wasn’t irredeemable. How cute.’

She grinned over at the sulking teenager and threw an arm over his shoulder. “I went back for you, didn’t I?”

There was a long silence.

“So, you attempted to assassinate the Mizukage?” Utakata sounded very tired, and perhaps a bit depressed.

“Not really,” Aiko stalled. She rubbed at the back of her neck. “I was experimenting with a fuinjutsu piece, and one thing led to another, and then I realized I had accidentally pierced past all the feeble security that the incompetents-”

Utakata cleared his throat.

“highly competent professionals that Mist produces presented, through my great capability and not their lack thereof,” Aiko completed seamlessly. “And stumbled into the Mizukage.” She frowned. “Neither of us came out of that looking good. Maybe he’s embarrassed.”

Her companion groaned.

Chapter Text

“What is your obsession with Zabuza about?”

Aiko flipped the bingo book shut and aimed a scowl at her companion.

Utakata was perched on the table, lounged back indolently on his elbows. He was doing that strange thing where he posed so that his robes fell open at the collar.

She looked away. “I don’t have an obsession.”

He made a polite, ‘Ah,’ sound of comprehension.

‘I have a good reason to keep an eye on him. That’s not an obsession.’

Bingo books really weren’t enough current information, though. She was starting to get nervous about timing. She didn’t want to be absent for Team seven’s mission to Wave. What if she missed them?

She wasn’t certain what she wanted to do, but she did want to see them. Just to be sure everyone was alright and things were going to be fine.

‘Maybe I should pick Sakura up like a suitcase and take her with me. If she doesn’t show up for the exams, Orochimaru can’t kill her.’

Aiko winced and put the book away, zipping her bag with a harsh motion.

Utakata followed her with his eyes, apparently content to wait her out.

‘That would probably make me an actual criminal. Konoha would not be pleased. Plus she would probably want to go home and that just sounds like a bummer.’

“I have been contemplating procuring our next task.” Utakata swung one foot off the table. “There are some large financial institutions in the area. It would not be too difficult to locate a wealthy person who could think of a use for skills like ours.”

“Yeah?” Aiko leaned over the table, resting her forearms. “Anything that could take us to Wave Country?”

Utakata raised an eyebrow, but settled back to think. “Perhaps. I see… As a country without a shinobi village, it would be comparatively safe to operate within those borders. However, there is little opportunity to be found in Wave.”

He paused. “And even less in the way of comfort and stylish accommodation.”

She batted that thought away. “Yes, they’re destitute.” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s gotta be someone off-shore who has an interest in the country. Someone who could stand to profit from, say, increased contact with Wave.”

Her companion frowned. “Increased contact? That depends on what resources Wave has.” He kicked the table with his heel. “It’s an island nation, so they’re probably a fishing culture. There is little profit to be had from those exports.”

That was true. Aiko screwed up her face to think. “Since it’s cut off from the mainland, it’s likely old-fashioned. I bet someone could make a lot of money off of them, if it were easy for them to spend money on modern conveniences.”

It was a neat solution, actually. If she was hired for that purpose, making sure that the bridge went up would be her job as well. It wouldn’t seem at all strange that she was hanging around Wave, and she could lend a hand to team 7 if needed.

Utakata blew out air slowly. “Who could say no to a washer-dryer combo?”

Aiko grinned and slapped the table of their suite. “Exactly. So, the client we’re looking for is someone who already deals in technological exports for civilian production cities.”

Saying that was easier than finding someone who met their criteria. Aiko and Utakata split up. The first thing that Aiko did was change into a kimono so that she looked more respectable. After that, she made appointments at various offices. Two of her potential clients were willing to see her that first day. Neither of them was interested in a potential business opportunity, so she met Utakata at the hotel.

He seemed more disgruntled than usual. “I begin to suspect that Wave has been deemed off-limits to civilian merchants for some reason. You had little luck as well?”

‘Makes sense. Gato couldn’t maintain strict control over the economy without exerting pressure over possible competition. He has them scared off.’

Aiko sighed, and let that be her reply. She rubbed at her temples. “I have another three appointments tomorrow.”

Utakata eyed her sideways. “I have two,” he admitted stiffly.

‘Ha. I win.’

The next morning, she tried a little harder on her appearance. Utakata watched, bemused, as she neglected her usual braid in favor of twisting her hair up.

She frowned, anticipating the question. “I think I look a little older and more serious with my hair up.”

That impression was not shared by her first appointment, who apparently mistook her for a prospective secretary. She left in disgust. The second appointment of the day was with a petite lady who had a head crowned with steel grey hair and a hard look. She invited Aiko to leave a resume, but had no interest in an expansion of her business dealings.

Aiko walked into her last appointment with the Rinnegan blazing and more or less informed a hapless middle-aged man that he would be delighted to hire her and an associate to ensure that the land of Wave was made accessible as an audience for product. She picked up a brochure on the way out to see what it was she was eager to sell to Wave. Ah. She had a passion for small kitchen appliances, apparently.

‘I can get behind that. Rice cookers are great. They save a lot of time and the food is always perfect.’

“This rate is surprisingly generous.” Utakata tilted his head at the contract she had returned with.

Aiko preened, pretending to examine her fingernails. “I can be persuasive.”

He gave her a doubtful look, eyes tracking all the way over her body, but he withheld comment.

‘What, like I can’t be good at something?’

She glowered. “Pack up. We’re leaving.” Aiko untied her obi with more viciousness than was strictly necessary and tossed it aside. She was tempted to wear the hunter-nin outfit. Even though it was short in the shins, it was the only actual shinobi gear she owned.

But it wasn’t even the standard Special Ops gear. It was the weird optional kimono + turtleneck combination that Mei’s older bodyguard liked so damn much.

It was just really dorky looking.

Aiko cringed away from it for the moment, but she unsealed the outfit and actually folded it into her backpack. It’d be a little easier to access that way. She dropped the kimono and shimmied her way into a skirt, long socks, and loose top.

“You could leave the room!” Utakata snapped. She glanced over in surprise to see that his face was bright pink. He was glaring at the wall.

“No chance, assbutt. I was here first.” She flipped her hair out, feeling a smirk work its way out. Ha. Still got it. When she sauntered out the door, he grudgingly followed on her heels. Utakata fell slightly behind a few minutes later, however, so Aiko gave him a questioning look.

The teenage was lending one last wistful look to the bright lights of the metropolis they were leaving behind.

“Aa,” Aiko murmured, nodding agreement. “Much nicer. We’ll bring our own food and then treat ourselves after we leave Wave.”

Utakata wavered, and then nodded decisively. “It will have to do.”

Reaching Wave through water-walking was somewhat of a conspicuous giveaway that they were shinobi, so Aiko and Utakata waited to make the crossing until the sun had gone down. The day they arrived was unfortunately timed- the moon was a waning sliver. They had little light to use as they picked their way across the surface.

That, combined with the fact that neither of them was truly familiar with the area, led to a bit of unplanned excitement when Aiko fell to her ankle in a sudden shock of tide, grabbed Utakata’s sleeve for balance, and then pulled him down too.

The whirlpool tucked them down, down, down. Aiko struggled, attempting to manipulate the water around her and failing because the natural chakra moving in the current was already gripping all the material and she kicked but she couldn’t get out of the funnel and she couldn’t see the light what way was up-

Bijuu’s chakra tik-tik-tik’d into the water and thrust outward, forcing everything away. In the waterless space, Aiko blinked.

‘So this is what it’s like inside one of those bubbles.’

Something unpleasant happened in her ears when Utakata’s bubble shot straight up, breaking the surface of the ocean. They splashed out of the water and into cold air.

Aiko caught herself before she fell in again, balancing on the turbulent surface. She shivered. She glanced over at her companion.

The Mist nuke-nin pursed his lips to spit out saltwater, wringing his hair with his free hands. “Uzumaki-san,” he said.

Aiko cringed, feeling the weight of her sodden backpack like a stone on her spine. “Hai?”

Utakata looked at her, expression perfectly blank. “There may be dangerous whirlpools in the vicinity.”

She put her hands over her face and giggled.

Aiko wasn’t laughing an hour later when she slogged onto shore. The sea air was fast-moving and cold. On the bright side, it dried her clothes out after only twenty minutes on shore. But those clothes wrinkled and smelled of salt and she kept finding sand in her hair and once there was a biting insect on her eyelid.

She stopped, clenched her fist, and made a sound like a tea kettle boiling over. Utakata took a step back.

“There are no hotels on this island, are there?”

He sounded just as miserable as she felt.

“No,” Aiko noted bitterly. “There aren’t.”

‘If I was alone, I would be using Hiraishin. I wouldn’t have to do any of this walking everywhere bullshit. I could do missions out here and still sleep on an adjustable featherbed.’

She pushed the thought away. That was immature. She’d been trained to be better than that. She would work with Utakata to set up a base of operations, sleep in shifts, and hunt local wildlife in order to supplement their supplies. She knew what to do and how to do it.

Every fiber of her being rose up and rebelled.

“No,” Aiko said, shaking her head decisively. “No.” She ignored Utakata’s ‘No, what?’ and held out a hand expectantly. When he didn’t leap to hold it, she glared him down. “I decided no,” Aiko explained, feeling determined. “I was hiding this from you, but that was before we came to mosquito island. I am going to touch that tree-” here she pointed “-and then we will check into the nicest hotel I’ve been in for the night. We can come back to continue working in the morning.”

Utakata was still looking at the tree. His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything.

She stomped over and touched the tree. She left a seal on it.

Utakata was still looking at the tree. He appeared mildly concerned.

She stomped back to him and took his hand.

“I do not understand your plan, Uzumaki-san,” Utakata said slowly. He did not try to take his hand away. “You have indeed touched the tree. However, I-”

His voice cut off in surprise. He let his mouth hang open. Aiko dropped his hand and pushed past him, intent on the reception desk.

It was an oasis. It was one shining spot of happiness and civilization in the dark night of nature and discomfort. The young man sitting at it seemed alarmed at her approach. He shrank back, holding up a sheet of paper like a talisman against evil.

At another time, she might have wondered what that distressed mien said about her appearance.

“Luxury suite,” Aiko hissed. The clerk soundlessly reached beneath his desk, opened a drawer, and dropped a numbered key into her open hand. The sensation of a ‘kai’ from Utakata rippled across the room, pulling at her attention.  He made a small, offended sound when the scenery did not change, but Aiko didn’t turn to look. “Thank you.” Her teeth clipped when she bit out the words. She caught a glimpse of Utakata standing still by the door.

She swiveled over to him. “Are you coming?” Aiko jingled the keys. “Because I get the bathroom first, but I presume that you don’t want to sleep outside-”

Utakata was already at her side, trotting up the stairs to their room. When the door shut behind them, he drifted over to pick up the hotel advertisements left on the desk. Aiko didn’t take the time to see what he was examining.

She was working on pulling out her contents of her bad and working to empty all the storage seals she’d had clothes stored in. The fabric ended up tossed in a pile to the left, while the ruined, bleeding stationary ended up crumpled into the trash can.

‘I can’t believe it all got wet. Where am I going to get more paper? This is bullshit.’

A high, confused kind of giggle worked its way out of Utakata’s mouth. She glanced over to see that his face was buried in his hands.

He’d be fine. She went to take a shower.

When she came out, Utakata was staring out the window. Aiko stopped, still sponging off her hair. Some long-dormant instinct for caution was waking up to blink at him.

“The blinds are closed,” Aiko said cautiously. “What are you looking at?”

Aiko blinked. Utakata had crossed the room. His hands were around her upper arms. He leaned down.

“What the hell was that.” He shook her once. “Who the hell are you.” Utakata’s fingers tightened. “And as a tertiary question, why do you masquerade as a moron?”

‘I may have underestimated the effect this would have on him.’

She leaned back and carefully refrained from peeling his fingers off. Utakata seemed like he might need a physical grip to the real world. Aiko bent her arms to touch his forearms gently and made sure her breathing was slow.

“It’s a special fuinjutsu technique,” Aiko explained in an even tone. “It allows me to place a marker at locations that I touch. I use them to re-orient myself in space and time.”

Utakata blinked down at her. His eyelashes were prettily curved. “In space and time?” His voice was small. His grip loosened.

Aiko laced her fingers through his and tried to be sensitive to his distress. Even though he was being, like, a total drama queen about the whole thing.

“Yes.”

That probably wasn’t good enough. She tried again.

“I should have told you beforehand.”

Utakata groaned and threw his head back, tearing his hands away. He –honest to god- put the back of his palm to his forehead. “The other question, please?”

Aiko had to think back on that a moment. “My-” she faltered. “I never told you my name?” Oh. Wow. “Aiko.” She paused. “Uzumaki Aiko.” How awkward. Her mind was racing, trying to remember because she had to have, sure she’d-  “Did I ask your name?”

Her gut sunk when he shook his head.

Oh, hell.

“You just knew it.” Utakata broke away and sank down onto the bed, facing away from her. “I assumed that you had heard of me.”

‘No, I just knew you in an alternate timeline. All that I know about you is that you end up banging the Mizukage and we never got along.’

Aiko nodded and lied prettily. “I read the bingo book.”

He grunted in response.

She looked down at her hands and fidgeted.

“You didn’t so much as blink when I called you Uzumaki-san,” Utakata said dully. “From that I could only conclude that you expected me to recognize you, or are otherwise used to being recognized on sight.”

‘Holy shit. I didn’t think about that.’

Aiko cringed.

“From this, I can only conclude that this information proves you are somehow from a village where your family traits would be easily discerned. You say you are not a missing nin.”

‘I need dumber friends.’

“Therefore, it must somehow be true that you are or were once a legitimate shinobi, but your exit from your home village did not involve rebellion or excommunication. In any case, you were not trained outside of a village system.”

‘I treated him like he would already know these things.’

“One of two impossible things must be true.” They made eye contact. Aiko felt apprehensive, Utakata just looked weary. “You are indisputably a shinobi of Uzushiogakure, yet you appear approximately twenty. Either you are older than you appear, or you have somehow skipped the intervening years between the fall of Uzushiogakure.”

‘Close, but no dice.’

“Initially, the idea that you were disguising your age was much more plausible. By my math, you could be as young as 35 and still plausibly consider Uzushiogakure your home. As Uzumaki are noted for their longevity and youthfulness, your appearance could be natural. Additionally, I have heard of at least one Uzumaki descendant who utilizes a powerful jutsu to remain young.”

“Tsunade?” Aiko asked, feeling the urge to contribute somehow.

Utakata merely nodded. “Just so. However, your reliance on information gathering methodologies that are clearly out of date was notable. That is compounded by your queer statement about accidentally attacking the Mizukage and the fuinjutsu that you used to transport us here. I can only conclude that you were telling the truth.” He gave a sideways little frown. “You were conducting a fuinjutsu experiment that involved space-time manipulation. You made a mistake, and found yourself removed from your own time period and in a hostile situation.”

The theory about where she’d come from was off, but holy hell.

Aiko sank down onto the bed and tangled her hands in her hair. “Wow,” she said softly. “Wow.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry I ever thought you were just a pretty face.”

Utakata shrugged and ran a hand over his hair. “I can’t decide if you’re the best shinobi I ever met or the most fantastically inept woman alive.”

Well… Aiko struggled to work up indignation. He wasn’t wrong.

“Why choose?” Aiko nudged him with her shoulder.

‘He knows a lot. Too much, really.’

The teenager made a huffing sound and nudged her back.

‘I should kill him.’

“I won’t tell.” Utakata sounded more like he was granting her a favor than pleading for his life. He didn’t even know that he should be concerned. He was smirking at her, enamored with his own cleverness.

Aiko felt her lips quirk up.

‘I don’t want to kill him. He’s funny.’

She slung an arm around his shoulders, ignoring the prissy sniff he let out. “It’s not like anyone would believe that, ne?” She squeezed, giving the closest thing to a hug she could manage casually.

“You’d better come up with another backstory,” Utakata commented stiffly. He raised an eyebrow and leaned away. “Or at least a cover identity. Unless of course you have plans? I assumed that there is no one you can contact.”

Her cringe was real. “No…” Aiko thought of the suspicious bastards that she had associated with. Who on earth wouldn’t be suspicious if she contacted them? The truth would seem like a contrived cover story. “I- I tried to contact Hoseki and Mitsuo, but…” she trailed off, too morose to finish the statement. It was definitely not framed to give the impression that her team was dead.

‘Dead is more believable than ‘not born yet’ anyway’.

Utakata came to the obvious conclusion and didn’t push. “I see.” He very awkwardly put a sympathetic hand on her leg to sort of pat. He immediately withdrew the limb, clearly thinking better of the motion.

“Yeah, no.” Aiko scooted away and flopped backwards onto the bed. Utakata let her go with unhidden relief.

Neither of them was terribly suited to mouthing platitudes.

“So.” Aiko toed Utakata’s side, smirking when he squirmed and glared. “A cover identity. Do I strike you are more of a Hikari or a Hironori? Maybe Keiko?”

“Aina,” Utakata said flatly.

What.

She stared. “Love vegetable,” Aiko repeated. “You want to call me the Vegetable of Love. That’s- well first of all, that’s too close to my real name. And that’s awful. No. Just no.” She pushed her foot against him again, hard enough that her foot flattened and molded against his flank. It was almost a kick, really, not a playful nudge.

“Nothing for it. You are indisputably a vegetable.” Utakata grabbed her foot to stop her from digging her toes into his backside.

“That’s ridiculo-”

“Cabbage.”

Aiko puffed her cheeks up in indignation. “No, st-”

“Daikon.”

“You’rebeingstupid!” Aiko rushed out before Utakata could cut in. Their eyes met in a stare-off.

He looked away first, rolling his eyes upward. “I can’t believe you suggested naming yourself ‘Respectful Child.’ It’s positively absurd. And ‘Hironori’ is a male name.” Utakata released her foot.

She bent her leg to pull it away from his grasp. “Yeah, but I like the sound of it.” At the unimpressed expression he leveled, Aiko pouted. “Fine. Hikari it is.” She gave him a challenging look, but he kept his mouth shut about that one.

“About Wave… We will try again in the morning?” Utakata asked.

Aiko felt her shoulders slump. “We’d better.”

“How do you want to approach?” Aiko made a kissy face at her expression in the mirror, idly massaging lotion into her cheeks. She looked wan, but not nearly as tired as she felt.

Utakata leaned against the bathroom door, immaculate and bored. “Wave has no shinobi. We could go undisguised.”

She uncapped mascara and shrugged one shoulder, almost ready to take an early start to the day. Her plush bathrobe slipped down dangerously far past her collarbone with the motion. “We could. I doubt anyone would share information with us. They’d probably be terrified.”

He gave her a sideways expression, but one side of his mouth was tugging upwards. “But of course, we could instead use the ready-made explanation for two young people traveling together and be perceived as harmless.”

“Well, if you insist.” Aiko held her eyes still and parted her lips just a little, concentrating on slicking the dark paint on her lashes. As soon as she was done, she gave her partner a mischievous look. “Since you’re so set on it and all.”

Utakata looked at his nails.

Aiko capped her mascara and curled her hand into a fist around the plastic tube. “But if you tell them I’m pregnant this time, I will shove my foot so far up your ass that your dentist-”

“I get the point, Uzumaki,” Utakata cut her off. The flustered pink tint to his cheeks belied the lie in his superior tone. “In any case, we will begin with reconnaissance. I trust that you can conceal yourself from civilians to gather information about the island in order to assess what trade impediments exist.”

‘Oo, I ace this test. The answer is Gato. He’s fending off any competition. Don’t know how, though.’

She considered pushing aside the change of subject and rubbing her point in, just to make Utakata squirm.

‘He’s kind of naïve. It’s cute how he covers his embarrassment by trying to provoke me. Not very subtle, is it?’

She let it be. Aiko packed up her vanity bag and stalked over to frown at the enormous pile of civilian clothes left in the hotel room. Utakata watched her through heavily lidded eyes, and re-posed so that the excellent line of his neck and jaw was highlighted.

“I kind of want to leave this here.” Aiko heaved a sigh, not happy about the thought of going through and putting away the wardrobe she’d accumulated over months of aggressive consumerism.

Utakata didn’t offer comment. He just watched.

She wilted. “Can you, like, get me some hotel stationary?” Aiko waved her hand in the vague direction of the lobby. “I think the front desk will remember my description, after how we checked in.” And arrest me.

Utakata made a sound of dim recollection. “I find myself surprised that they did not contact any authorities,” he admitted. But he pushed himself to a vertical position and glided to the door. “I will locate enough paper.”

While he was gone, Aiko sorted her treasures. Kimono, dresses, skirts, pants, a truly stunning array of (generally pilfered) jewelry and tops-

‘I might have a problem.’

She stared. She picked up a kanzashi and slid it into her hair, as if she could make a dent in the trove by putting on some jewelry.

“It didn’t seem like so much when I just bought two or three things at a time,” Aiko defended. The empty room did not respond.

‘How am I going to get all this crap to Wave?’

Somehow, she sealed away all of her treasures. As soon as that was finished, Aiko took Utakata to the point they had stopped at last night and stopped to get her bearings. Finding the town that the bridge was being built out of wouldn’t be difficult. But…

‘I’m not sure how I’ll know when I am. Or how I will tell Utakata not to take care of the problem right away, assuming Gato is active but Zabuza isn’t hired yet.’

The logistics were… bad, frankly.

She stole a glance at her partner. Utakata was running his fingers down the bole of the tree she’d tapped yesterday. A faint line was pressed into his forehead.

‘I’ll make it work. Somehow.’

“You’re not going to find it unless you’re a sensor.” Aiko bent to leap up into a branch, out of casual eyesight. Utakata followed a moment later.

“Is the settlement large enough that we should split to cover more ground?” Utakata glanced over, eyes shadowed by bangs.

She strained to remember. “Not sure,” Aiko admitted. “Not as far as I remember. But things like that can change. We’ll have to play it by ear.”

They stopped talking altogether at the first signs of civilization, falling into grim professionalism. There was a point where forest and animal trails bled into a road, and the brush was scarred and fought away with fire and blades. They passed one abandoned house, but there was movement not too far away. It wasn’t exactly bustling, but there were enough people around that they had to use caution.

She led the jinchuuriki to the edge of town, exchanged a significant glance, and then dashed through the open to spring back up, onto a roof this time. It creaked. Aiko froze, muscles tense, trying to let the shoddily-built construction settle. She held her breath. It didn’t creak again.

‘I can’t even see him from here.’

Instead of gesturing, Aiko licked her lips and gave the subtlest of chakra pulses.

‘We need to develop a system. We can’t communicate if he only knows Mist’s tap code and I only know Konoha’s. If either of us was a team player, we’d already have thought of that.’

Aiko tabled the idea for later.

She did catch Utakata’s dash across the open. A grandmother jerked her head when he passed her, but the head-shake she gave indicated that she dismissed whatever she’d noticed. Aiko was still watching the civilian continue on her walk when Utakata shifted on the next roof over. He tilted his head to get her attention, eyebrow raised.

Aiko mimed a shrug and brought her hands together in order to take them apart, miming splitting up. She tapped her chest with her right and then indicated one side of town- the side she knew had the bridge. Besides, the other side of town smelt worse, befouled by something hot and chemical oozing on the wind.

Utakata scowled. But he nodded and took off in the stinky direction.

She was left to blink in mild confusion.

‘What did I say?’

Weird. Aiko shook off the oddity in favor of exploration. She hid in the shadows of buildings and moved only when unobserved, relying on old-fashioned stealth instead of genjutsu. Anything more sophisticated seemed unnecessary. She didn’t think there were shinobi around yet, but ninjutsu could attract them.

‘It’s…’ Aiko hesitated, crouched on an overhang. ‘Worse than I remember, somehow. Did I really leave these people like this?’

She strained her memory. But no, she didn’t think so. The civilian inhabitants were thinner, their clothes stained and worn, and she didn’t see a building that was anything other than shabby. The market was pitiful- but still every item sold, and there were lines full of people who didn’t receive any groceries.

‘Pathetic.’

Her stomach lurched, as if reminded that she’d treated herself to a pre-made bento that morning. She put a hand over it.

The bridge wasn’t started, as far as she could tell. But there were indications that something was going on: significant foot traffic towards the outskirts of town with the bridge-site and less general hopelessness than she remembered.

‘The whole town is in on it, I bet. They’d have to be. There are a lot more one-handed beggars than there were a few months ago, though. I doubt it’s going well.’

A worker would probably know what was going on. She didn’t remember any one-handed men working with Tazuna’s crew, so they weren’t her suspects.

Aiko waited patiently for a more likely candidate to walk by and then followed the man. He went nowhere interesting, so she tracked back out and tried to guess what preparations for construction would look like. Once she knew what she was looking for, she could confirm her suspicions that the locals should already be stock-piling and starting preparations.

‘They… need some kind of material, right?’

Aiko strained to remember what the bridge had been made of, but she frankly hadn’t paid much attention at the time. Construction seemed kind of boring. It… it could be done with wood. She knew that for sure. Yamato did that all the time. But wood didn’t seem like the best choice for a bridge that was supposed to last for the ages.

‘So, what, large rocks? Metal? That doesn’t seem right.’

She slumped.

‘This is embarrassing. This seems like a thing that most people would readily know. At least I can ask Utakata. He won’t realize I’m inattentive, because he already thinks I’m some kind of stone age throwback.’

The thought was not that reassuring, but it was what she had. So she went back to the place where they had started and waited.

“Cement,” Utakata answered, as soon as she posed the question. “A sort of glue mixed with rock that can be mixed on site and molded in large shapes. They would need large quantities of wood or metal for support, however.” He pulled a leaf out of his hair and frowned disapprovingly at it before he let it drift to the ground. “Why do you ask?”

‘How can they do that kind of work if they’re starving?’

She shrugged off the question. “It’s what I would do, if I was that near to the mainland,” Aiko evaded. “Someone has to have considered the possibility of connecting instead of risking the currents. It would make our jobs easier if someone was already contemplating a construction project, ne?”

Slowly, deliberately, Utakata turned to face her dead-on. He raised one eyebrow. He didn’t look like he was buying it.

‘Oh, come on. I’m right, aren’t I? That’s not how I know, but I’m still right.’

“I do not believe the currents are the impediment to communication and trade,” Utakata said, after a long silence. “All but one of the harbors have been burnt. The ship docked is a commercial shipping vessel, patrolled and guarded by civilian hirelings. I am more interested in the party responsible for these oddities than the possibility of a land crossing.”

Aiko waited for him to say anything else, or to mention the name ‘Gato’.

When he didn’t say anything else, she forced a flippant smile onto her face. “Aa. Either way, this place is pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Her teammate sort of shrugged and shifted away. “Destitute.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, mouth twisting in revulsion. “You aren’t contemplating doing anything charitable, are you?’

“No, no,” Aiko denied hastily. “But the macro view of the situation hasn’t yielded much information so far. We could befriend someone and get their perspective.”

Utakata hmmd, unimpressed. “The community is smaller than I expected. They will recognize you as an outsider, and then wonder how you arrived.” He relaxed, leaning against a tree. “In any case, I would prefer to focus our attentions on apparent aggressor, rather than speculate about possible resistance from the locals.”

She frowned. He crossed his arms.

They stood at an impasse for a few minutes, watching the sun move directly overhead.

“We should part ways to approach the problem.”

Aiko nodded agreement. “You try your plan, I’ll try mine.”

“Don’t break our cover,” Utakata said shortly. She shot a scowl at his back, but he was gone a moment later.

“What a brat,” Aiko grumbled. She straightened her posture, checked her hair, and closed her eyes for just a moment to try to remember where Tazuna lived.

The builder had a family home outside of the town, not far from what would be the construction site. He probably had a half hour walk to work every day. And… it had been near a heavily wooded area, hadn’t it?

With that in mind, it didn’t actually take Aiko that long to track down the building. She settled in a treetop to watch the perimeter. Tsunami-san worked out in a garden behind the home for about two hours. She left, and returned forty minutes later holding Inari-chan by the hand. The boy’s other arm was occupied by a thin workbook. After that, Tsunami-san painstakingly pumped water up from a well to do washing. Inari-chan was out of sight, likely moping inside. Aiko watched the little family until the sky began to darken, but she didn’t see Tazuna-san at all. He didn’t come trudging along the path home.

Aiko ventured close enough to see that Tsunami-san didn’t even set a third place at dinner.

Her stomach hurt.

Surprised, Aiko put a hand to her gut and looked down.

‘I must be hungry if that’s looking good even after I saw the market where she got her food.’

She hesitated for a moment, but sprang away to find Utakata. He was already waiting for her, nearly invisible among the shadows of evening. When she held out her arm, he took it.

“Anywhere you’d like to go for dinner?” Aiko asked. She pushed down the uncomfortable feeling of domesticity that statement implied.

Utakata’s arm was tense against hers. “No. Though I would advocate selecting another hotel for the night.”

She took him to a port city that stretched nearly up to Lightning Country. Utakata looked vaguely ill and wobbly, but he set off towards the bright lights unprompted.

In the next morning, they parted ways in Wave Country again. This time, Aiko went directly to Tazuna-san’s home and waited. About five minutes after sunrise, Tsunami-san walked Inari-chan out to town. A few minutes after they were out of sight, Aiko leapt out of her hiding spot and let herself into the house. She did a fast run-through, flipping it over for signs of Team seven or work plans for the bridge.

Tazuna-san had been cautious. There was nothing visibly connecting his family to any rebellious attempt to undermine Gato’s chokehold on the island.

At least, not until Aiko pulled apart Tsunami-san’s cake pans. She cracked a smile, unfolding creased designs.

‘He’d trusted them to his daughter to hide.’

Tsunami-san had done a good job of it too, so Aiko put the blueprints back where she’d found them. It was just in time- it had been nearly half an hour since the family had left. Aiko hid upstairs until she heard the door open downstairs and then left by a window on the opposite side of the house.

She didn’t strictly need to talk to Tsunami-san now. Aiko had a solid theory: Tazuna-san had left for Konoha to get bodyguards. He had probably been carried out under darkness by a local boatman. In his absence, his compatriots were attempting to maintain the pretense of normalcy. They were likely gathering the materials in secret as well, or concealing them near the site.

‘But that’s a lot to tell Utakata I just magically know,’ Aiko told herself. ‘Besides, Tsunami-san wouldn’t be a bad in to have. She must know everything.’

So Aiko slipped around. She ran a hand over her hair and clothes to be certain that she still looked respectable. Then she slipped on her Rinnegan and knocked on the front door. She was waiting when Tsunami-san steeled herself enough to unlock and open it with trembling fingers.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly. She was smiling. “I’m your childhood friend Hikari-chan. Invite me in and tell me all about what’s been going on.”

Tsunami-san’s whole body relaxed, thrumming with endorphins and a powerful suggestion. “Hikari-chan! Please, come in. I’m doing some cleaning to prepare for guests.”

Hikari-chan smiled, just like she had as a dutiful little girl with braided pigtails and a pocket full of meadow flowers. “I’d love to help, Tsunami-chan.” She closed the door behind her.

“The situation has escalated,” Aiko reported as soon as she had confirmed they were alone. Tsunami-chan hadn’t recognized that yet, but Aiko could read between the lines. Gato knew that his biggest detractor had disappeared and that the town was covering for him. “I was right- there is attempt to subvert the forced moratorium on trade.” She scowled. “The export company-”

“Gato-san,” Utakata interrupted.

Aiko nodded. “Right, Gato was maintaining a stranglehold with mercenaries. But someone’s upset that by seeking shinobi help. He’s hired his own man in response.”

That made a lot of sense in retrospect as an explanation for Zabuza’s presence, and why Gato would have hired him if he was so unwilling to pay the price for a nukenin.

“Another shinobi- And we are certain this does not refer to us?” Utakata asked. His dark eyes were wide and with a start she remembered that he was really just a kid, not long out of his home village. His breathing was picking up in fast gasps. “It could. Someone is mistaken.” He shook his head. “Our employer has sold us out. We should leave, before hunters-”

“Utakata!” Aiko held up her hands. “That’s not possible.” When he tried to interrupt, she made a warning ‘ch-ch-ch’ kind of sound. “Our employer can’t have sold us out, because he’s under the kind of genjutsu that he is just not getting out of. No one knows about us.” Aiko reached out and gripped his shoulder to anchor him to the real world. “We’re okay. And even if someone comes, we can kill them all. We’re pretty great.” The teen shuddered in her grip, but didn’t pull away.

She could deal with revealing her tactics better than the fear of imminent capture. Fear makes shinobi stupid. He wouldn’t hurt her with the information. Probably.

He seemed to collect himself. “Right.” Utakata inhaled deeply, tilting his chin up. “You are not entirely incorrect. We shall remain as long as the situation does not become too dangerous. At that point, you will use your fuinjutsu to extract us.”

“That seems fair,” Aiko agreed, who had no intention of leaving to flee anything short of hunter-nin or Akatsuki. “The village will hire a Chuunin team, probably.”

They would want to, anyway.

She continued. “We can let them do the work if we hang back and observe. Why endanger ourselves if another team will be working towards the same goal? Lazy and safe.”

Utakata actually laughed. The sound was short and high and she’d never heard it before.

She froze warily.

“You are a terrible person,” Utakata said. But it sounded more like an endearment than anything.

Team 7 shows up, and the timing could not be better.

A week later, Gato’s displeasure reverberated around Wave. It manifested as a horde of muscle-bound men sauntering from the direction of Gato’s manor.  They split up into small groups, looming even as the civilians closed their doors or tremblingly pretended to be absorbed in their everyday tasks.

“Market’s closed, ladies!” someone shouted, a half second before a stand was overturned. Rough laughs and an unhappy cry followed.

Aiko perked up, encouraged by the thought of results after so long in observation. She smacked Utakata in the chest.

He came awake with a start and a glower, but rapidly focused in on the spectacle erupting. “This was a long time coming,” Utakata murmured.

Aiko nodded. From their vantage point overlooking the village center, they could see civilian toughs herding the citizens out of their houses.

“That for me?”

She craned her neck, but couldn’t see which jackass had shouted that. Someone was weeping, though. The sound was nearly covered in the clattering cacophony of sandals on cobblestone, breaking glass, and a hundred people being shoved into the village center. Even with all that, Aiko still heard the rolling of metal wheels against stone.

“He has a carriage?” Utakata asked. His mouth wasn’t quite closed, in shock at the gross excess and flaunting of wealth. “On an island this small?”

Aiko patted his shoulder companionably. “Apparently.”

A hush had fallen over the gathered. She was looking in the right place to see a thin man exchange a smirk with another tough and push an ojii-san into the carriage’s path. He fell forward, landing in a sprawl on his belly.

Aiko’s whole body jerked, torn between her reflex to interfere and her intellectual need to maintain anonymity. The hesitation cost. The carriage’s wheel ploughed down the old man, going up and over his back. He gave a horrible twisting jerk and blood painted the wheels.

She pressed her hand against her thigh and felt her jaw clench.

Screams were going up in the crowd, everyone from fishermen to housewives jostling to rush forward or run away.

“I think,” Utakata said quietly, “that I might like to interfere in some respect.”

She shot him a startled look.

His jaw was clenched into a feral snarl and his pupils were dilated. She edged away and thought about chakra chains. Utakata didn’t look much like himself at all.

‘I need to be the voice of reason, apparently.’

Aiko couldn’t muster up enthusiasm for the prospect. Her rebuttal was lackluster. “We’re hiding, aren’t we? If we’re going to come out of hiding, we can’t afford to wait. I don’t see how we could have enough time to ensure trade could begin safely before we would have to move on from hunter-nin.”

He blinked down at her, dark eyes serious even with his pupils blown open and the obvious signs of demonic possession straining against his features. “I agree that we cannot be seen, but we could blame another party. You have that hunter-nin uniform, do you not?”

‘He’s invested. If I don’t do something, he will. Then we’d have to leave. And that would be a pain in the ass, since I need to stay in Wave.’

Aiko sucked in a breath and looked down at the crowd one more time. All exits had been blocked off, trapping the citizens inside a ring of mercenaries.

Quite a few of them were squirming to avoid blood on their sandals. The door flew open on the carriage. A squat, grey man was framed in the entryway with a scowl and a cane. He hit it against the steps of the carriage and shouted something that she couldn’t understand over the anger rushing in her ears. Whatever it was, it was directed at the crowd.

Fine.

‘I think I can do a better job than Utakata at the moment. Besides, he doesn’t have a disguise.’

She turned back to Utakata and nodded. Without speaking, she dashed over the rooftop and into the closest open window, leaving him to monitor the situation and hopefully not kill everyone with Saiken. Aiko shrugged off the pink backpack and twisted, hastily pulling her shirt off over her head. She’d never changed so fast in her life: her outfit and kit were discarded on the floor.

It took precious seconds to flip through her papers, locate the one with weapons that couldn’t be hidden under a skirt, and unseal it to strap on all the glistening steel she could carry.

Aiko was nearly out the window again when she tied the hunter-nin mask on and remembered one other thing: she was too distinctive to go out like that. She put the first henge she thought of over her hair, painting the strands blue.

Now disguised enough, she all but flew back outside and over the rooftiles.

Utakata held a hand out to stop her. She couldn’t help but notice that his nails were jagged bits of glimmering seashells, curling over his fingertips. He pointed three times, indicating certain members of the mercenaries. She followed the motions, committing the toughs to memory trustingly. Gato was pontificating and gesturing some bullshit about respect and discipline.

Utakata leaned over so that his breath was hot against her ear. “I’ve seen this. He’s leading up to a public execution to frighten them into giving up. It is a common technique to secure obedience from a larger populace.” Aiko shivered. She forced her body not to lean into or away from him. It wasn’t sure which one it wanted to do.

‘Did this happen before?’ Aiko bit down on the inside of her cheek. ‘Is that why so many workers backed out on Tazuna-san?’

Utakata’s voice rasped against her ear, fury dislodging his habitual charm. “Attack the sycophants. They are too loyal to Gato’s coin to be frightened off. The others may be swayed by repercussions aimed at the enthusiasts among them.”

The logic seemed sound enough. She nodded, but asked in a whisper, “Wouldn’t it be optimal to wait until he was right about to make his example?”

He withdrew just enough to give her a hard look, but his tone was only skeptical. “If you must be dramatic.”

“I must,” Aiko confirmed. She shot him a wan smile that he couldn’t see under her mask. The heaviness of porcelain against her forehead and nose felt right, familiar.

People were being picked out of the crowd and muscled up to the pavilion-

No, not people, Aiko corrected internally. That implied a random selection. Young men were being lifted and pushed above the jostle- boys as young as sixteen and men as old as thirty. A stone settled in her stomach. Her hand reached for her ANBU shortsword.

‘I think I know why Gato’s workmen were all older.’

She didn’t have an ANBU shortsword, Aiko registered faintly. Her fingers slid around the grip of the sword she did have. It was close enough. It came out of the sheath without a sound, thanks to some Mist-nin who had taken excellent care of his tools. She thanked him silently.

A man was struggling, elbowing his captors and shouting red-faced obscenities. He was forced to his knees. She eyed the angle of the longsword being raised above his head, held by one of the men Utakata had picked out as a target.

‘Sloppy aim,’ Aiko critiqued. ‘That’d get stuck in the bone.’ Then she moved.

She’d beheaded the would-be executioner and whipped around to clinically swipe at the man holding down the prisoner before the first civilian screamed. The second man wasn’t one of Utakata’s targets, but he couldn’t go without repercussion. The cut wasn’t a killing one, but he was huddled close enough to the poor civilian that she didn’t take another swing. The blood spray from a suddenly bisected elbow would be startling enough. She moved.

A bellow erupted behind her- bodies were falling to the ground and tumbling and someone was screaming- but she kept moving, eyes trained on her next target. He saw her coming but didn’t have time to scream before she dug out his gut and used his shoulder as a jumping point to come at her final target from overhead.

His brown eyes opened wide in dismay and fear. She landed with her feet spread wide on his shoulders and brought the blade down through the unprotected space about his clavicles. There was a moment of resistance.

Then the body lost tension entirely, knees collapsing. Aiko rolled her feet to ride the motion, putting her weight on the balls of her feet when the body landed face-down. She quirked her head, surveying the situation from her vantage point crouched on a corpse.

“Get him!” Gato shouted from somewhere behind her.

Which was odd, because she’d pretty well demonstrated that there wasn’t any competit-

She dove, letting her body collapse in a well-practiced fall as hot chips of stone flew up behind her. Aiko completed the roll and sprang away from the missing-nin she really should have expected. Zabuza had brought down his sword with extreme prejudice. Maybe it had something to do with her disguise.

‘Of course Gato waited until he’d hired his man to make a demonstration. I am dumb. I am really dumb.’

Recriminations repeated in her head as she dodged the stupidly big sword. She was scowling behind her mask, but there was no real fear powering her rapid heartbeat. It had jumped from surprise. The beats began to normalize: Zabuza was fast and deadly, but she was faster. He could have killed her when she wasn’t expecting him, but he couldn’t hope to catch her now.

‘In a pinch, I can always Hiraishin.’

But that was terribly obvious and a hunter-nin definitely wouldn’t have that ability. So she left town on foot, passing trees in flashes of green and swaying branches. Zabuza was hot on her heels after he’d hefted up his sword-

In front!

Aiko darted to the side, evading another shinobi. She started in surprise when she actually saw him: he was wearing a hunter-nin outfit as well. He had senbon pinched between his fingertips, held up in warning. Zabuza came to a stop behind her. Slow, deliberate steps marked his approach. She twisted enough to keep both of them in her peripheral.

Then a bubble popped over head and Utakata dropped down from the treetops to land between Aiko and the mist hunter-nin who wasn’t attacking Zabuza for some reason.

For one surreally long moment, they all looked at each other.

Zabuza was first to react. She thought his mouth twitched under the bandages across his jaw. Then he threw his head back and barked out a laugh. He wheezed twice, eyes trained on Utakata.

Aiko looked back at the child who couldn’t be a real hunter nin. She couldn’t see his face, but he seemed as baffled as she felt. He crossed the clearing in a shunshin to crouch at Zabuza’s side, clearly protecting his master.

Aiko pitched her voice lower, since they’d already decided she was a boy. “Well, this is awkward,” she said. “One of us has to change.”

The look that Zabuza leveled at her was nothing less than scathing.

“Zabuza-san,” Utakata greeted. His own posture was relaxed. He looked over at her and raised a hand. She almost didn’t believe her eyes when he curled his fingers at her.

‘He can’t treat me that way. I’m not a trained dog.’

Something in her was phenomenally offended. But he knew Zabuza better than she did. Aiko gritted her teeth and went to kneel at Utakata’s side in the same posture she’d used to wait by Tsunade-sama.

“So that’s how it is,” Zabuza chuckled. He reached a hand out and ruffled his companion’s hair. Aiko curled her lip in disgust as the child leant into the touch.

‘Pathetic.’

“For a moment there, I thought the kid was actually black ops.” Zabuza jerked his head at her. Aiko fought the urge to snarl and stiffen. “He moves like one. Haku, I hope you were watching.” He bowled over the quiet, “Hai, Zabuza-sama,” that followed. “You’re the jinchuuriki, right?”

Utakata’s hand brushed against Aiko’s shoulder. In warning or silent declaration of protection, Aiko didn’t know. “Utakata.” He sounded bored.

Aiko realized with a shock that she knew better- that tone didn’t signify disinterest. It was concealing tension.

“How awkward. It appears that we have been hired to pursue contradictory interests. It seems a shame that we should fight and deprive Kiri of the pleasure.” His fingers tapped against the curve where her neck met shoulder, movements concealed by her hair.

It might have been nerves or it might have been code: she couldn’t tell. They didn’t speak the same language. She bit down frustration.

‘We really need to communicate better.’

Zabuza was watching the tendons in Utakata’s forearm with sharp eyes.

Perhaps the tap code hadn’t been for her at all. She bit her lip. A show for Zabuza?

The mist nuke-nin grunted from the bottom of his throat. It somehow conveyed disdain, despite the fact that over half his face was covered by bandages.

‘Maybe I should kill him again.’

“I don’t see a problem.” The swordsman twisted his fingers in Haku’s hair in a parody of affection. “I don’t care if a bridge is built after I get paid. You can make a bridge out of daisy chains for all the fucks I give.” He leaned forward slightly, as if emphasizing his stature and bulging musculature. “Make a hundred bridges. But after I get paid,” he enunciated carefully. “Then we’ll have no problems.”

‘I like him. Maybe he should have been the Mizukage.’

Aiko froze at the thought. Okay, that was ridiculous, but-

Utakata hummed from the back of his throat. “How kind of you.”

‘That’s actually a possibility.’

“Until then, stay the fuck out of my way.” Zabuza turned away in dismissal. He made a handsign and was gone. A moment later, Haku was gone as well.

“That was eventful.” Utakata sounded sullen. “At least I didn’t say you were pregna-”

Aiko dug her thumb into the side of his thigh in warning. His voice cut off in confusion. After a moment of looking down at her, he seemed to catch on.

‘Zabuza might not actually be gone.’

When she jostled her shoulder meaningfully, Utakata tightened his fingers around the muscle. Aiko took them far, far away, to the hotel room that had become their base of operations. Only then did she shake off her teammate and stand up.

Utakata held out his hands to take the mask she pulled off. That helpfulness was so unlike him that Aiko shot the teenager a startled look as she let go of the porcelain.

Unease prickled up her spine. She kept her tone brusque. “That went well. Good job.”

“Tch.” Utakata scoffed without making eye contact. “Whatever you say.” He crossed his arms, mask dangling from his fingers.

‘I missed something.’

“Is there a problem?” Aiko asked, carefully neutral.

“No, no.” Utakata breathed. “No problem at all. Everything is wonderful. We’re never in any danger at all because you know things you can’t possibly know.”

He looked back at her. His pupils were vertical slits.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. When he took a step toward her, she took a step back.

“You knew Zabuza would be there. You had somehow deduced as much from reports that I also read.” He was hissing.

‘Is he upset that it looks like I noticed a pattern where he didn’t? There wasn’t a pattern. Zabuza is too good for that. I wouldn’t have predicted that he would come to Wave without foreknowledge.’

Utakata didn’t stop spitting vitriol, clearly gaining momentum. “And it is terribly convenient how you tiptoed around manifestation of the six-tails. It was as though you knew how to placate a jinchuuriki. Most shinobi are fearful. But not you.” He took another step. “You know everything, don’t you.”

The pieces fell into place with a jolt. Exasperation washed over her like a tide.

‘Oh my god, he’s having feelings. Spare me.’

“You’re being pissy and insecure because you lost emotional control,” Aiko accused. She knew she was right when his mouth fell open in surprise. She closed the distance to jab her index finger against his chest. “Guess what kiddo, you don’t scare me. The six tails is nothing to me. Nothing,” she stressed, when he tried to open his mouth. “I’m not going to leave you because he raised his head when you gave him a chance by losing your cool. Your worth more to me as a partner outweighs any potential

harm you could present.”

When he tried to grab her wrist, she let him. His eyes were sliding back to normal. He turned her hand and rubbed his index finger around the underside of her wrist.

Aiko rolled her eyes and let him take her pulse. “If you’re done marveling that I’m really not frightened or about to leave you for forcing my hand earlier, I’d like to remind you that I don’t do things I don’t want to do. I stopped Gato because I found it personally satisfying, not because you were considering throwing a bijuu at his ass.” Her hand darted to catch his wrist, twisting out of his grip. She didn’t bother to take his pulse. “Yeah, Zabuza knows about you now. But so what? We will be fine.”

Utakata pulled away from her and narrowed his eyes.

She’d said the words with utter surety, willing them to be true. Aiko had no doubt. But because Utakata might not run on faith, she added as plainly as possible; “And if he bothers you, I’ll kill him.” It felt like talking to Naruto when he’d been little and needed to know that someone had his back.

His expression softened a bit. His posture stiffened into something more familiar.

Aiko relaxed an iota, because whew, panic averted.

“You sound like someone’s mother. Are you entirely certain that you are not thirty?”

‘I don’t want to kill him. I like him sometimes.’

Aiko held that reminder against her chest and bared her teeth in something that was not a grin. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She paused pointedly. “I’m eighteen,” she lied, making it sound like a challenge and not statement of fact.

(When else would she get such a golden opportunity to shave a few years off her age? It was too perfect to pass up. Besides, it was, like a family tradition. Tsunade would be proud.)

Utakata’s mouth dropped in shock. “You- you are my age!” He seemed almost offended. “That’s- you can’t be!”

She showed a little more teeth and leaned in. “Why not, dearheart?”

He looked at her sharpened canines for a moment. “I suppose I… could have been mistaken.”

“That’s the spirit.” Aiko companionably hip-checked him as she passed on her way to the bathroom door. He stumbled to the side fuming teenage indignation, but she really did not give a damn. Aiko grabbed the hem of her top as she walked. She didn’t want to spend all day in the clothes she’d pilfered from that Kiri corpse. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to-” she cut herself off in shock, eyes wide.

She let go of the fabric.

‘I dropped my bag when I changed. It’s still in that civilian’s house. In Wave. Along with all my money and clothes and loot.’

She made a small sound, like a wounded kitten.

Utakata was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh… nothing.” Aiko batted weakly at the air. “It’s just- I forgot something.”

Her companion eyed her. He took a step back. He crossed his arms. “You forgot everything, didn’t you?”

She held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”

“And you’re sure?” Aiko scrubbed harder, working off her pent-up energy. Her enemy resisted with unnatural strength leant from its year-long stay on the kitchen counter.

Tsunami-chan took a moment to respond, preoccupied with re-tying the handkerchief protecting her hair. “Tou-san has traveled long distances before. He seemed certain that I should expect his return tomorrow or the next day.”

Aiko made a noncommittal sound and wiped the ambitious coffee stain out of existence. She probably looked a bit dumb with a clip holding her nose shut, but the cleaning chemicals had been giving her a headache.

This was the second time they had deep-cleaned the house. Aiko had brought over groceries, replaced the china, and done everything she could think of to waste time.  She’d all but walked a ditch around the property with her pacing. Utakata had gotten bored and finally refused to come with her three days back. He was lounging in the hotel.

Now that she was close to seeing team 7, she was fidgety. She didn’t know if she needed more time or wanted to just get the encounter over with. But either way, Aiko felt mildly ill.

‘What if I fuck this up and they’re suspicious of me? If I don’t do anything, Sakura will die again. I can’t pass up a second chance like this.’

She’d made up her mind: she needed to get into Konoha so that she didn’t fail the girl again.

(But holy hell she didn’t want to go back. It seemed too impossibly strange and unhappy a prospect.)

That was her biggest concern. It would be admittedly strange to see herself, Naruto, and Sasuke as children again. But the prospect didn’t bother her. And Kakashi? He always looked the same.

“Hikari-chan?” Tsunami-chan was tilting her head slightly, a frown pursed onto her lips. “You seem so serious. Let’s take a break.” When she reached out for Aiko’s hand, Aiko let the older woman lead the way to the table. They settled in, taking off their cleaning gear. “Now, that’s better.” Tsunami-chan shot her a bright smile.

Footsteps thumped down the hall, rapidly slowing before they reached the doorway. Both women twisted to see Inari-chan peek around the corner, worrying on his scarf. “Mom?” His eyes darted to Aiko, wary but not too interested. “I had a question. Can you help me?”

She let a placid smile creep across her face and adjusted her posture. She’d never used a genjutsu on him. Doing that to a child could cause an aneurism.

‘It’s not like he’d know who his mother’s childhood friends were.’

“Of course. Inari-chan, how is your homework going?”

The boy scowled. “Mo-om,” he complained.

Tsunami-chan was hiding a smile. “Aa, sorry. It’s Inari-kun now, isn’t it?” When she opened up her arms, the six year old dragged his feet over to curl up at her side.

“Can you write my katakana out to hiragana?” Inari-chan wheedled, digging his fingers into his mother’s dress. “I’m really good at hiragana. I don’t want to learn the katakana. It’s not working.”

“Tsunami-chan! Inari-kun! I’m home!”

The shout was gleeful but faint. Inari-chan shrieked, tumbling out of his mother’s lap en route for the door. “Grandpa!”

‘Early? Why would we be early?’

Aiko brushed off her lap and stood, as unhurried as possible. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day, Tsunami-chan.”

The older woman returned the well-wishes, attention focused on the door.

“Yes, of course. I-”

Aiko was already upstairs, leveraging open the back window. She crossed to the treetops in one leap and hastily worked her way around the house to catch a glimpse of the group before they went inside.

Her heart stopped cold.

“That’s not right.” She didn’t remember deciding to speak out loud. The words felt like they’d come from someone else.

Sasuke and Naruto were carrying Kakashi. Sakura was bringing up the rear with nervous body language. Even from the distance, Aiko spotted light glinting off what had to be a kunai in her fist.

“Where…” She strained, nearly leaning into sight. “Where am I?”

‘Kakashi lost a fight.’

The only other shinobi around was Zabuza.

‘Zabuza did that to Kakashi.’

Impossible. He’d been tired after the altercation, yes, but using his Sharingan did that to him. Zabuza should be dead.

Something had changed. She didn’t see how it was possible because she had stayed far away from that encounter but somehow it had and Kakashi looked half dead and she was missing and

Aiko put her face between her knees and focused on breathing.

Her thoughts were jagged fragments and they cut at her in a barrage. She’d done something terribly wrong. Something had gone wrong and she was the only divergent factor so it had to trace back to her.

She needed information. She wasn’t going to get it sitting in a tree.

‘I wasn’t going to be seen by them yet. I didn’t wear a henge around Tsunami-chan and Inari-chan. If I wear a henge now, the civilians won’t recognize me and I won’t have a cover. Is team seven going to recognize me? Kakashi is passed out. He’d be the most observant one.’

It was a stupid decision. She didn’t care.

She stood up-when had she sat? – and smoothed out her civilian clothing. She fixed her hair, forcing her fingers to stop trembling. When her braid was laying down her left shoulder and her bangs were perfectly positioned to the side, she took a deep breath and pulled on the same bland smile she had used on Inari. She got to the ground. She walked up to the front door in plain sight. When Sasuke pulled the door open with a kunai in hand, she faked surprise and startled, putting her hands to her chest. Her shriek was a perfectly feminine, contained sort of terror.

There was no recognition in Sasuke’s eyes. Apparently civilian clothes and a new hairstyle were enough disguise. Well. That and being years older.

He instantly looked chagrinned and a little ashamed, because his mother had taught him not to terrorize civilians. The weapon disappeared. Tsunami-chan moved over his shoulder. Her expression instantly brightened. “Hikari-chan! I thought you had left.”

“I forgot something,” Aiko explained. Her tone had exactly the right amount of warmth and embarrassment, but she felt cold inside. Her face smiled. “I suppose this is one of your brave protectors, ne? What a tall young man.”

‘Maybe Utakata is right. Maybe I do talk like an old person.’

Sasuke turned scarlet to the tips of his ears and fled the entryway.

Sakura appeared around the corner, casting a mildly confused look after her teammate. Her attention immediately flickered over to Aiko. It was like she pulled on a mask- her eyes brightened, her posture straightened, and she showed her white teeth.

‘I definitely don’t want to let her die. What a precious baby.’

“Hello!” Aiko greeted brightly. She leaned down to be on equal height with Sakura and ‘didn’t notice’ the shadow of irritation that passed over the kunoichi’s face. “My, I didn’t know shinobi came so young! You must be strong.”

She cursed herself immediately. Civilians didn’t say ‘shinobi’. They said ‘ninja’. But Sakura reacted to the implied compliment and not the slip. A genuinely pleased look pulled at her face. It was a much shyer sort of happiness than her polite smile.

“Ano, onee-san.” Sakura twisted her ankle prettily and twined like a cat under the attention. “I don’t know that I’d say that.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” Aiko said firmly, exchanging a smile with Tsunami-chan. She needed a gossip session. She needed Sakura to be relaxed enough to spill information and she needed Sakura to fall back on her civilian manners enough to engage in conversation at all.

Tsunami-chan came through, though Aiko didn’t know if it was her own volition or the genjutsu sensing that Aiko wanted an in. “I’m sure you’re thirsty, Sakura-chan. Why don’t you join Hikari-chan and I for tea?” Tsunami-chan probably actually missed the moment of hesitation on Sakura’s face, but Aiko didn’t. Tsunami-chan was nodding towards the sitting area. “Please forgive me, but I need to run some bedding upstairs. I will start the water after that.”

Aiko brushed that off. “Don’t trouble yourself!” She waved her fingers. “Sakura-san and I can handle it, can’t we?” She winked at the girl and god Sakura was cute as hell what a sweet kid she shouldn’t die this time around she should reach fourteen at least.

The kunoichi visibly melted at being addressed like an adult. “Hai!” Sakura chirped.

They made tea. Aiko found snacks. Sakura proudly carried out porcelain and Aiko marveled at how steady her hands were, how much she could carry at once, her mother must be so proud of her.

Then Naruto skidded into the room. Literally.

He caught himself with a jerk on the doorframe and shot a guilty look at Sakura. But not for long because he was lifting his hand to rudely point at Aiko and shout, “Who are you, lady?”

Aiko stared. The cup in her hands slipped. Sakura lurched across the table to catch it before it could fall, already scowling.

“Naruto-baka!” Sakura complained. He quailed when she raised a fist, even from halfway across the room. Despite her ugly tone Sakura set the cup down gently. Not a drop spilled.

Aiko didn’t have the presence of mind to fake awe at Sakura’s dexterity. She was gaping.

He looked wrong. He was Naruto but he wasn’t her Naruto. Her Naruto had never had such thin cheeks or wan coloring or so many rips in his clothing (and holy hell she knew she’d never bought that jumpsuit, she would remember that phase).

Naruto’s smile faded. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uhh…”

She snapped back to herself and pulled on a self-deprecating smile. She waved at Sakura apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, Sakura-san! I suppose I was startled. Thank you for your help!”

Sakura was looking at Aiko warily. She had the social skills to remember that odd moment and analyze it. That could be a problem.

Aiko turned to Naruto. “You must be the last ninja!” Aiko beamed a ‘mom’ smile up at him. “Konoha sent three ninja for our little town? I feel so lucky!”

As suspected, Sakura did not volunteer the information that there was another, injured shinobi under the roof. But Naruto…

It was utterly pathetic how Naruto lapped up the smallest hint of positive attention from an adult. He glowed. His back straightened. His chin went up.

He’d sing like a sparrow.

“Sit with us.” Aiko patted the cushion to her left. Sakura stiffed from her spot at Aiko’s right but she didn’t protest. Not out loud, at least.

Naruto hesitated for a moment, then flung himself down. Aiko shifted over the cup intended for Tsunami-chan and filled it for him.

Sakura leapt to her feet. “I’ll get another, Hikari-san!” She was gone before Aiko could gush thanks.

Alone with Naruto, Aiko felt her carefully maintained control begin to crack. She smiled a little wider and pushed her shaking hands on her lap, hidden under the kotatsu. “So. You must be Naruto-kun.” He leaned over, mouth slightly open. “I’m glad that Tsunami-chan and her family have ninja like you to protect them,” Aiko angled.

Predictably, he swelled with the praise. “We’ll keep them safe,” Naruto promised. He made a thumbs up. “It’s my ninja promise! Me and Sakura-chan and sensei and even the teme!”

There was a small, indignant sound from the kitchen that Aiko probably would not have heard if she had been a civilian. So she merely smiled. “I believe you, Naruto-kun.” Then she let her forehead crease in mild confusion. “Ano, did you say your sensei was here as well?”

Naruto flushed, realizing his mistake.

‘He doesn’t seem like a kid who just left his sister behind somewhere after a fight gone wrong. Maybe something happened way back in Konoha. Maybe I didn’t go on the mission at all.’

Aiko’s tone was perfectly pleasant when she continued. “I’ve never met a grown-up ninja. She must be strong!”

Naruto barked out a laugh at what must have seemed well-meaning ignorance and not a calculated attempt to not raise alarm bells at how much she knew. “Eh, sensei’s a boy!” he half-shouted. Aiko faked embarrassment. “But yeah, I guess he can be kind of cool.” Naruto frowned. He crossed his arms. “Sometimes.”

“Oh.” Aiko nodded knowingly. “Grownups can be silly, ne?”

“I don’t know that I’d call him silly.” Naruto swelled up, indignation puffing his chest out. “Sensei is always late, and he smells like dogs, and he’s a nasty perv-” he cut himself off suddenly and eyed her. His face turned pink. “Ah!” Naruto kind of flailed in place. “I’m sorry, Sakura-chan said ladies don’t need to hear about that kind of gross stuff. And things,” he added in a jumble.

‘I don’t remember him smelling bad. Dog smell is a good smell.’

Wait.

‘Did Naruto think I smelled too much like dog and just never said anything?’

That was… embarrassing. Maybe? But it definitely wasn’t what she needed to find out.

Aiko forced out a titter. “Naruto-kun, it’s alright! I’m sure your sensei knows what he is doing.”

Sakura strode back into the room with the requested cup and another pot of water. She gave Aiko a sideways look, as if hoping for approval of her foresight.

‘They’re both needier than I remember.’

It was getting annoying, but Aiko juggled Sakura and Naruto until Tsunami-chan returned with a harried expression and a pink flush across her cheeks that indicated Kakashi was either awake or shirtless.

Naruto completely missed the over-the-top knowing look that Aiko shot Tsunami-chan. Sakura didn’t. She looked queasy.

“Eto, Hikari-san!” Sakura started too hastily to be casual. “And Tsunami-san, of course,” she added belatedly. “I was wondering if you could provide more information about the situation?”

‘Good girl.’

Sakura was pinking under the attention of everyone else in the room. Her voice quietened. “Ano, it’s just that Tazuna-san hasn’t been here for quite a while, and things could have changed,” she explained sheepishly.

Aiko let her face display as much approval as Naruto’s and Tsunami-chan’s did.

‘Why didn’t I like her? She’s so bright.’

“It’s… it’s probably good that you asked, Sakura-san,” Tsunami-chan began. “I wasn’t there,” she hedged. “But-”

“I was,” Aiko interjected solemnly, drawing attention away from Tsunami-chan. The older woman’s mouth snapped shut immediately.

‘Can’t have her giving too much information about what happened. Sakura is going to tell everything to Kakashi.’

The woman’s eyes glazed in response to Aiko’s correction. Her face stuttered blank for a moment, then returned to placidity.

Naruto and Sakura were both watching Aiko intently. She didn’t think they’d seen the odd shadow passing over Tsunami-chan’s face.

“It was frightening. Terrible.” Aiko tensed her muscles into something that resembled a shiver. She pitched her voice lower, quieter. “Gato-san heard that some of the people were trying to build a bridge. I don’t think he knew who. So he had his people force everyone into the village center- and- and-” She cleared her throat. She widened her eyes so that they would water. “He thought that if there were no workers-”

“You don’t have to finish,” Sakura said. Her eyes were wide. She looked like she wasn’t certain if she was horrified or fascinated.

Aiko widened her own eyes. She looked down and away. The table was quiet.

Naruto bulldozed through the solemn moment. “Don’t worry,” he vowed. “Like I said, we’ll make sure nothing bad happens!” Tsunami-chan stared at his sincerity and Sakura was embarrassed but Aiko managed a watery smile.

‘That’s as good an opening as any.’

“Thank you, Naruto-kun.” She swallowed. She changed the subject. “So.” She cleared her throat. “Tell me about yourselves? I’ve never met real ninja before.”

The children puffed with pride, eager to please and distract.

“I’m the first shinobi in my family,” Sakura bragged.

A moment later Naruto chimed in with, “I’m going to be the Hokage!”

Aiko smiled at both of them, faking a little laugh. “Oh, my. That’s a big goal. You’ll have to work hard, Naruto-kun. And Sakura-san, that must have been a grown-up decision! I bet your family is proud of you.”

“Oh, yes,” Sakura beamed. Naruto was shrinking back, and that wasn’t right, and Aiko pressed. “Do either of you have siblings? Are they ninja too?”

Both children shook their heads without thinking.

Her chest froze over.

‘Impossible. It doesn’t make any sense.’

A terrible sort of premonition was building. She didn’t want to face it. She couldn’t consider it. She needed to move. She needed to run.

‘I can’t stay here. Kakashi is going to sense me as soon as he isn’t unconscious or delirious.’

She glanced out the window. She faked surprise. “Oh! I forgot all about the time.”

Tsunami-chan paused with her teacup at her lips, pupils dilating in response to the prompt. “Oh, and you have such a walk home.” She fussed, putting her china down. “We always do this.”

“We’re terrible gossips,” Aiko confided to Sakura and Naruto with a wink, as though she was imparting some great secret.

“Oh, hush.” Tsunami-chan waved that comment off and stood. “I’ll show you to the door. Will you be back tomorrow?”

Aiko stood and walked out. “No, I don’t think so.” She was in another room, far enough away that a civilian might not realize the acoustics were still good for overhearing, and it was her chance to allay whatever suspicions Sakura might have had about how Aiko had acted when she’d seen Naruto. She almost hated to do it. It would embarrass him. It would probably embarrass Sakura. Neither of them were the people who should be embarrassed about the issue.

She lowered her voice. “Tsunami-chan, doesn’t Naruto-kun look like he could use some vegetables?” Her voice was plaintive. “He’s a little wan, and thin. It worried me.”

Tsunami-chan played along like a champ. “Aa, Hikari-chan, don’t you worry. I’ll get some nutrients in him. They’re sweet young people, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Aiko agreed grimly. “I just want to scoop them up and take them with me.”

Chapter Text

Kakashi-sensei was as still and stiff as he’d been when she’d slipped into sleep after her shift at watch. Only now, his cheeks were pale and he was clammy to the touch. Sakura swallowed hard. She watched sweat well up and join the dampness in his hairline.

His breathing was shallow but steady.

Sakura took his pulse. She confirmed that he didn’t have a fever. She decided to ask Tsunami-san to help her pour some water down his throat later. He hadn’t had a drink in over twelve hours, so he must need some, right?

‘What do I do if he doesn’t wake up? He has to eat still, right? And go to the bathroom and- and other stuff. Right?’

She wiped at her face with her sleeve. Contemplating it was terrifying. She wasn’t trained in this.

‘I don’t know what to do.’

It was so stupid. Everything was stupid. If they’d just gone home when they’d found out their client was a dirty liar, none of this would have happened. Why hadn’t they listened to the rules?

Naruto pushed open the door and slunk in, worrying at his lip like an idiot.

‘He must have used up all his bravado shouting about continuing the mission yesterday.’

Sakura pressed her lips together tightly and didn’t look at her teammate.

“When’s sensei going to wake up?” Naruto sounded small and lost.
Resolutely, she held on to her bad mood, because it was better than admitting that she was scared too. “How would I know?” Sakura glared at Naruto.

He shrugged helplessly. “You know lots of stuff, Sakura-chan.” Naruto showed her his palms.  His voice softened. “I just hoped. That’s all.”

Sakura slumped. “Yeah.”

She thought back to the fight. She’d examined everything she could remember at least twice before. Kakashi-sensei’s fainting didn’t make sense.

That could happen if someone was bleeding a lot, but Kakashi-sensei only had scratches. She’d considered heatstroke or shock- but no, the day hadn’t been hot enough. Chakra exhaustion could cause a shinobi to get dizzy, or pass out and die if severe enough. But he’d only used a few jutsu. Surely an elite Jounin like Kakashi-sensei had bigger chakra reserves than that.

‘But with the fever and pallour, and the fact that he won’t wake up…’

Sakura swallowed her fear and the words, ‘I’m scared that he was poisoned. I’m scared he’s going to die and leave us alone far from home. I’m scared that we committed to this mission and so we have to do it without our sensei.’

Telling Naruto that wouldn’t do any good. Her second theory- that he’d sustained serious head damage in the exchanges that were too fast for the genin to see- wouldn’t be any more reassuring.

Naruto left the room. Sakura sat by her sensei for a while longer, until her legs fell asleep. Sasuke-kun was still resting after taking the second watch shift; the hardest shift.

The sun rose. Tazuna-san pattered around in the adjoining rooms and noisily prepared for work. Tsunami-san was much quieter in the kitchen, but the smell of tamagoyaki crept into the room. Sakura closed her eyes and heard the popping sound of pickled vegetables being opened. Her mouth watered.

Her stomach twisted painfully, rebelling against her ribs.

She went to the table before she could be called. She didn’t want unnecessary noise making it harder for Kakashi-sensei to get the best rest possible. Maybe he just needed to sleep more.

Tsunami-san made a sympathetic noise as soon as she saw Sakura’s face. “Is your teacher still not feeling well?”

Sakura nodded miserably.

Breakfast did make her feel somewhat better. Tsunami-san had offered an impressive spread. The civilized part of Sakura squirmed at the reminder that her hostess had been put out to feed so many people. Sakura hadn’t even offered to help. She was toying with the idea of offering when Sasuke-kun slouched into the room. She eyed him, sucking on a bit of tamagoyaki. His hair was more ruffled than usual, except for the left side. It was completely flat.

“Good morning, Sasuke-kun!” She pitched her voice up and managed a smile.

He made a kind of acknowledging grunt. Her tummy flipped. Sasuke-kun sat down and stared blearily at his plate. He didn’t blink until Tsunami-san encouragingly slid a pickle plate in his direction.

Sakura ate a pickle off her own plate. It was clearly homemade. She felt bad again about failing to offer her assistance in the kitchen.

Naruto joined them last, when Tazuna was on his third helping of fish. Sakura looked up at the right time to see him pause in the doorway with wide eyes.

‘Hikari-san thought Naruto looked like he was suffering from malnutrition. Maybe he really hasn’t seen a homemade meal like this before.’

She put down her chopsticks and tried not to feel queasy.

“Good morning, Naruto-san.” Tsunami-san set down another small bowl filled with vegetables. “I hope you’re hungry. I made a lot this morning.” She gave a wide smile and turned back to the stove.

Sakura winced.

‘She doesn’t know we overheard that conversation.’

She eyed Naruto. He stood frozen for a moment , the same stark humiliation on his face that he’d shown last night. But then he forced on a smile, sat, and served himself a plate of food. It included considerably more vegetables than she’d ever seen him eat.

Sakura didn’t quite understand that response. So she excused herself and double-checked that her equipment was ready to go. Sure, Kakashi-sensei had defeated all three missing nin, but she was still on a mission. She was on a mission far from home, with a lying client who had risked their lives, and with a sensei who might not wake up. But guarding Tazuna-san had been his last order. They had to do what they could.

Sakura made sure her lucky kunai was in the first position on her holster.

“But someone has to stay with sensei,” Naruto pointed out uncomfortably when all three of them moved to follow Tazuna-san out the door. “He’s still asleep.”

“He’s unconscious,” Sasuke-kun corrected scathingly.

Naruto waved his hand irritably. “Fine, whatever. We can’t leave the old guy alone- either old guy,” Naruto amended glancing at Tazuna-san. “He’s our mission, and sensei couldn’t defend himself from a wet blanket right now.”

“Fine,” Sasuke-kun bit out. “Have any brilliant ideas, idiot?” The two scowled at each other. Sakura could feel a brawl building.

And she was so, so sick of being stuck between their bickering.

“You two go.” Sakura dropped her pack. “You’re the ones who wanted to continue the mission anyway. I’ll stay with sensei.”

‘I wish he’d wake up. We won’t get home without him.’

Sakura flung the door open and stomped back into the house. She stopped short in the kitchen.

Hikari-san was sitting at the table with Tsunami-san. She looked strange in Tsunami-san’s little kitchen: the redheaded lady clearly had an eye for fine things and the means to acquire them. Hikari-san was wearing clear gems high around her throat and a fresh manicure instead of the kanzashi from yesterday.

No wonder Tazuna-san had had given Tsunami-san an odd look when she’d mentioned her friend had been over. She couldn’t quite understand the friendship either.

Tsunami-san was a tired and prematurely frail young mother in a well-repaired house dress. In contrast Hikari-san looked collected and sharply pretty, clearly untroubled by maintaining a household or worrying about Kakashi-sensei’s ailing upstairs.

Sakura swallowed envy.

‘If I hadn’t gone to the academy, I could have been like that. My parents have the means.’

Intentionally, Sakura scuffed her foot against the floor. It wasn’t nice to sneak up on civilians.

Hikari-san turned her head, and a smile flooded her face.

‘She smiles like she learned how from watching Naruto,’ Sakura thought, and fought down an unladylike snort. It just didn’t fit the rest of the polished image.

“Good morning, Sakura-san!” Hikari-san didn’t notice her wince. “Are you staying to protect us today?”

Tsunami-san gave the door Sakura had almost left through a sharp look, but said nothing from behind her tea cup.

‘I did need to ask about helping sensei…’

The presence of an extra person made things awkward. She really shouldn’t be displaying weakness or risking a slip of private information.

But Naruto had already spilled the news that sensei was here. And what could it hurt? Hikari-san didn’t care about what shinobi did.

Her heart jumped nervously. “I’m staying, yes. Tsunami-san, I was hoping you could help me get sensei a drink?” Sakura twisted one foot behind her. “I’m sure he needs to but I don’t know how and-” She snapped her teeth together before she could babble anymore. She looked down. Tsunami-san must work very hard. Her floor was glossy and clean.

“Is there a problem?” Hikari-san sounded serious. “Sakura-san. I happen to have some medical training. I’m at your disposal.”

‘She does not look like a town doctor. Is the town big enough to merit a nurse?’

Sakura honestly did not know. What other kind of medical specialist would a tiny fishing town have? There was probably a midwife. And they’d have experience in treating injuries from nets or cold, probably.

She pushed the mystery aside. “T-thank you very much!” Sakura put her palms on her thighs and bowed. “How lucky. Would you mind taking a look at my sensei?”

She let Hikari-san go up the stairs first, and watched her back for any twitching. The offer of medical assistance was awfully convenient. Her heart was pounding all the way up in her throat but she couldn’t pass up the offer. She wasn’t likely to get another one.

Hikari-san didn’t notice the danger she was in. She sat on her legs at Kakashi-sensei’s side and leaned dangerously far into his personal space. Her eyes flicked closed. If Sakura hadn’t known better, she would have said the civilian was smelling sensei’s neck. That was too silly: she was probably listening to sensei’s breathing.

Sakura shivered. She didn’t feel entirely comfortable that close. If sensei startled awake because someone was in his personal space…

Hikari-san went through the same checks that Sakura had. Sakura sucked on her cheek and thought that the academy must have actually taught medical checks authentically. Sakura shifted uncomfortably on her heels when Hikari-san peeled up Kakashi-sensei’s eyelid and peered at the grey iris below.

‘Checking for eye movement?’ Sakura guessed.

She straightened attentively when the woman leaned back on her heels and rubbed at her face with the back of her hand.

“He’s exhausted.” Hikari-san frowned. “As far as I can tell, he’s not in mortal peril.”

Sakura choked on her own spit.

‘What doctor talks like that?’

“I don’t know what he did, but I’d say he overextended. He could be unconscious for days. This isn’t a coma, however.” Hikari-san patted sensei’s chest absently. Sakura was too wound-up to even wince. “He’ll wake up. Unfortunately, I’m not familiar enough with these symptoms to judge whether or not there will be long-term repercussions.”

At the inquisitive look, Sakura mastered herself. “I thought about chakra exhaustion,” she admitted, willing to volunteer any information that could help Kakashi-sensei. “But I don’t know how he could have used that much chakra without my noticing!”

Hikari-san tugged on the end of her braid. “Aa…” A crease formed between her brows. “So, you mean that he didn’t do any flashy ninja things?” She punctuated the question with- was that an attempt to mime shooting lasers from her eyes?

Sakura nodded uncertainly. Was that how civilians thought of jutsu?

“Aren’t there passive ninja things?” Hikari-san tilted her head. “Not the earth and ice things. But ninja things that augment the body?” She rubbed her palm across the back of her eyelids, smearing away nonexistent perspiration.

‘The weird Sharingan thing that he and Zabuza were talking about?’ Sakura’s mouth hung open. ‘Of course! That makes sense. He covers the eye because it uses a lot of chakra. That explains why I’ve never seen it before, even in training.’

With that in mind, she re-examined what she remembered about chakra exhaustion. Sensei must be experiencing severe exhaustion, beyond what the textbooks had mentioned as symptoms to be aware of. Her lessons had been intended to alert shinobi to the early signs. Shinobi were meant to recognize those and stop whatever they were doing.

‘Did sensei not have that lesson?’

The thought was ridiculous. She discarded it.

No, sensei had known exactly what was happening to him. He’d judged it was an acceptable trade off for the benefit the team had received. So he’d known he was going to crash as soon as adrenaline stopped propping him up. Then why hadn’t he told anyone?

Sakura bit her lower lip. He hadn’t had time.

“-kura-san?” Hikari-san sounded as though she was repeating herself. 

“Hai?“

The woman frowned. “Please go get a pot of tea from Tsunami-chan?”

“Oh! R-right!” Sakura stumbled to her feet and hastened out of the room.

Tsunami-san already had a hot pot waiting. She managed a weak smile up at the woman. Tsunami-san and Hikari-san were really in tune, weren’t they? Sakura brought the drink upstairs-

And stopped in the doorway, face hot. Hikari-san had pulled down sensei’s mask. Hikari-san’s eyes were soft. Her hand was at sensei’s jaw, still tangled in his mask.

It felt strangely intimate.

“He doesn’t like people seeing his face!” Sakura shrilled. But still she couldn’t help but stare. Sensei- sensei was prettier than Sasuke-kun even! He had pink lips and a cute nose and oh my god, was that a beauty mark? Naruto and Sasuke-kun were going to-

“Sakura-san.”

The stark disapproval in Hikari-san’s voice shocked her to the real world.

The redhead’s black eyes were hard. “If you are going to be immature about this, you may be excused.”

Sakura recoiled back for reasons she didn’t understand.

“This is not the time for you to ogle or score one-up points on your teammates. Do you understand me?”

‘Ne, Hikari-san is a lot scarier than I thought.’

She nodded meekly.

And the moment passed. Hikari-san smiled again. Thankfully, it wasn’t the toothy Naruto smile this time. “You’re strong, right Sakura-san?” She nodded to sensei. “Could you hold him up so I can give him a drink?”

Oh. Right. Sakura eyed Hikari-san. The redhead wasn’t a particularly large woman. If Sakura had to guess, the heaviest thing Hikari-san ever lifted was new clothes to try on. “Right.” It took some doing, but Sakura wrestled sensei up by his shoulders and propped him up from behind. “Good thing he’s not a big fat guy, or this would be really difficult,” Sakura grumbled to herself.

Not quietly enough, though. Hikari-san snorted unbecomingly.

Sakura gave her an embarrassed smile and became very preoccupied with the back of Kakashi-sensei’s fluffy head. He had terrible bedhead and several leaves tangled behind his ears. Oops. She levered his weight on her shoulder enough that she could pluck out the brambles and forest detritus she found.

Hikari-san was pouring liquid into sensei’s mouth in short, controlled intervals. Occasionally, she rubbed at his throat.

Sakura focused her attention back on the tangles in sensei’s hair. It was surprisingly soft, considering that it looked like the bottom of a broom. He definitely needed to find a good conditioner, though.

“He needs to be washed next.”

Her eyes felt as wide as dinner plates. She- that- no-

Hikari-san made eye contact, mischief pulling the corners of her mouth up. “What, do you want him to marinate in his own filth until he wakes up?”

Sakura nearly let her teacher fall. “You could ask Tsunami-san for help,” she suggested desperately.

“Nope.” Hikari-san popped the p sound. “She would agree, so no one is going to ask her to do more work. We’re not putting her out. Taking care of someone is degrading, hard, and thankless. Tsunami-chan is already housing and feeding four ninja in addition to her family.” Her voice was light, but it was enough to make Sakura feel ashamed.

“Right.” Sakura swallowed. “You’re right. Thank you for helping me, Hikari-san.”

“You’re welcome.” The older woman nodded sharply. “It should be your teammates. They haven’t even thought about this, have they? If no one helps him, he’ll have bedsores and probably an infection. He has to stay clean and hydrated and fed whatever we can manage. If he was left like this for long, he’d be in terrible shape.”

Sakura made a face. She couldn’t see Sasuke-kun or Naruto-baka taking care of their ailing sensei.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hikari-san said. She was looking at Sakura sideways, eyelashes low. “Don’t. If you take it upon yourself to be the caretaker, they’ll always expect it from you and never understand what a sacrifice it is. You’ll be stuck doing it forever.”

She hesitated. Would… would that really be so terrible? After all, Naruto and Sasuke-kun… Her heart sunk. They seemed to work together so well, even though they bickered constantly. Neither of them had so much as looked at her when they had come up with a plan to free sensei from Zabuza. She…

Sakura bit her lip. She felt her shoulders curl in.

‘I don’t like looking at their backs. Is Hikari-san right? Will that only get worse if I don’t push?’

She didn’t have the mental energy to squeal or squirm too much about helping Hikari-san give sensei a sponge bath. She did note that Hikari-san’s upper lip was curled in distaste the whole time.

‘She really doesn’t like caretaking either.’ Sakura mulled that over. ‘So why is she doing it? Just because she has medical training and no one else does?’

That… That didn’t seem wrong, exactly. It made sense to use the skills she had to help out.

But what if that was always happening to her? What if this wasn’t a one time thing, and Naruto and Sasuke-kun just got stronger and stronger while she stayed behind smoothing over problems with clients or disinfecting wounds that they could learn how to take care of?

Sakura recoiled from the thought. She didn’t like the taste it left in her mouth.

‘I have a responsibility to sensei as his teammate,’ Sakura tested. ‘But… Naruto and Sasuke-kun have the same responsibility.’

And they were boys anyway. They could be the ones to bathe sensei. They wouldn’t be so-

Sakura blushed bright pink and did not think about anything, especially not the unfortunate glimpse of her teacher’s butt she’d gotten when he was flipped over.

Yeah, caretaking work sucked. It was humiliating. Being unconscious didn’t mean sensei was immune from bodily functions. She was never, ever going to forget the sound of liquid rushing gently against the floor when his bladder decided it had endured enough.

‘I need bleach. For my brain. But also the floor.’

“Well, what’d you expect?” Hikari-san had her nose pinched shut. She was carefully tossing cleaning cloth at the problem as if making a pile of fabric would help.

Sakura didn’t have a better idea.

“You know who would be great at this?” Sakura asked, feeling her voice scrape ominously. “Naruto and Sasuke-kun.” She pulled the blankets that had replaced his filthy clothes up, all the way to sensei’s chin.

Sensei had to poop at some time, after all. That sounded suspiciously like someone else’s problem.

Hikari-san shot her an approving smile. “That’s the spirit. Smart girl. Don’t let them get out of doing their share.” She tossed the sponge back into the tub of soapy water and stood to stretch her back. She braced her hands against her hips, and then there was an audible crack. “In fact, if you can, force them to do it all. If you’re firm and authoritative enough, they’ll do what you want.”

Sakura perked up a bit under the genuine quality of the woman’s voice.

“Hikari-san?” she tried, tilting her head. “Thank you, again. Are you going to stay the night?” She followed the woman out and watched her wash her hands, then claimed the hot water faucet after.

The redhead hissed a breath in through her teeth and indecision flew over her face. “Not likely. I think I’m going to go look for myself for a while.”

Sakura cracked a smile. “Hikari-san, you’re weird.”

Hikari-san looked tired, but she did smile in response. “The best people always are.” When she went to ruffle Sakura’s hair, Sakura didn’t duck away.

She stood for a moment, imagining she could still feel a warm, approving touch on her scalp. Then she followed Hikari-san out and dumped the pile of dirty clothes in a plastic basket gratefully.

“Tsunami-san, I need to wash some laundry,” Sakura asked. “Is there-”

“Aa.” Tsunami-san glanced over at the back hall. “My washer is out there, but it’s full right now. I’ll put that load in after I’m done with Hikari-chan’s load.”

Hikari-san didn’t look like the kind of woman who did a lot of housework. Still, that seemed really strange.

“Does she not know how to do her own laundry?” Sakura asked uncertainly.

Tsunami-san laughed. She didn’t answer.

‘So is that a no?’

Chapter Text

“Look, I just need you to help me keep an eye on them. Gato will find out today and be pissed. I just don’t know what he’ll do.”

There was an unhappy grunt.

“But this works for us. If someone else is doing the visible work of opposing Gato, we can stay hidden,” Aiko cajoled.

“Yes,” Utakata agreed unhappily. “I see that. If another team receives credit for our work, how are we to be paid?”

Aiko waved that off. “We will be. Anyway, the team is harmless right now. Their Jounin is unconscious. The remainder is three genin.”

Outrage fled over her partner’s face. His spine straightened. “Konoha sent inexperienced children against Momochi Zabuza.” His voice dropped from flat to subzero.

‘Of course not! Konoha is merely incompetent enough to have no idea he’s operating in the area.’

She made a queasy expression that wasn’t quite a smile. Hmm. She abandoned the expression. “Maa, they’re probably not trying to kill the kids off.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“You owe me.” Utakata bit that out like it was a statement of fact and not up for debate.

Aiko didn’t quite have the energy to smile at how crotchety he was. She pursed her lips and nodded. “Fine. Just don’t let the kids die while I’m gone.”

Her partner huffed in disgust. “I’m not incompetent.” Utakata tapped the book in his hand against his thigh. “It will be no challenge to turn aside whatever troubles genin might encounter.”

“That’s the spirit.” She rubbed at her face with the back of a hand. “I’ll hurry.”

Aiko left without another word, en route for the town closest to Tazuna-san’s home. There was so much to do that she felt a little nauseous.

She wasn’t with team seven. Not only that, but Naruto didn’t appear to know she existed.

The best response she could think of that was a sort of internal screaming peppered by question marks, so it was best not to linger.

There was no longer any internal debate. She had to get into Konoha, because there was nowhere else she could get answers.

‘Danzou. I wouldn’t put it past Danzou to snatch up a Hokage’s kid if she was left alone. Or Orochimaru- he was still in Konoha when I was an infant. He’s brazen.’

Actually, there was any number of terrifying things that could happen to an orphan in Konoha.

‘This isn’t a productive line of thought,’ Aiko told herself, keeping an eye out for a likely looking store. One appeared: a nearly deserted building that was at least thirty years old. She spotted the proprietor reading behind the counter. Perfect.  ‘Focus on what I can affect in the near future.’

So. She had to get into Konoha. Her earlier thought still rang true: she would receive far too much scrutiny if she petitioned for entry. They would find that incredibly suspicious and conduct an exhaustive review of her background and psychological profile. Unacceptable.

That meant she had to force Konoha to approach her, so that they would believe she had no agenda and make concessions to persuade her into the fold. She had to be appealing and relatively nonthreatening. And she had to use the resources she had to do it: team seven.

‘At least I know Kakashi. I know how he works and thinks. I’ll let him discover a shinobi is lurking about, investigate me, and then miraculously find out I am an Uzumaki. He’ll leave, but he’ll take that information to the Sandaime along with whatever impressions he has of me. So they have to be the right impressions.’

She wasn’t going to lie to him any more than she had to. He was too good for that.

When she walked in, the proprietor was attentive and smiling. “Welcome! Can I help you find anything?”

\Aiko demurred. “I’m just looking, shopkeep-san. How long have you been here?” She ran her fingers up a display, watching his reaction out of her peripheral.

He closed his book on a finger. “Well, I’ve been running the shop by myself for the last fifteen years, since my wife passed.”

‘That’s a long time. Works for me.’

“Oh. I see.” She turned to face him directly. Aiko blinked open the Rinnegan and caught the poor man in a spell. “You remember me. My mother and I bought our groceries from you for years, but you haven’t seen either of us in a while. She came to this island when she was a teenager, but you never really knew her. When pressed, you will be somewhat certain that her name is Kagome or Kaoru.”

The elderly man was frozen stock still. Aiko dug a few coins out of her pocket and put them on the counter, feeling a little regretful. He didn’t move.

‘Kind of a shame I don’t know a gentler way to weave a long term genjutsu.’

Well. He’d be fine. She left him to digest his new impression.

Establishing a cover was the first step to getting scouted by Konoha. They’d want to know where she’d come from- powerful shinobi didn’t pop out of another dimension fully formed.

She caught several key people around town the same way, seeding vague impressions of generally uninteresting encounters with the woman who lived out in the country with her daughter and no husband. She didn’t have a house out in the country to fit that story, but she couldn’t Rinnegan one of those out of nothing. She’d work around it. Somehow.

‘Fuck. Well. There’s a stupid dimension full of large, angry kittens. Maybe there is a summoning dimension with houses.’

Aiko snorted, rubbing at her headache.

Okay, so that was a pretty big loose end and it was not going to be solved in any way she could think of off the top of her head.

Aiko gritted her teeth and tried to think her cover through. Maybe she’d missed something. She was an unaffiliated shinobi because her mother had fled Uzushiogakure at- Aiko counted quickly- fourteen and hid in Wave Country. Her mother had been deeply paranoid and only sought out missions when prompted by outright desperation. She had been reclusive- she had no strong friendships in town. Her mother- she’d call her Kagome, Aiko decided, Kagome had started taking Hikari out on missions at about twelve. Before that, she’d left Hikari with Tsunami-san when Kagome had to take missions or starve. That was why Tsunami-san was so familiar with her cover, despite the five year age difference.

‘I need to get to Tazuna as well. Today, preferably, before he has too much opportunity to think about how strange my presence is or ask Tsunami-chan any questions.’

There was no one else who she absolutely had to put under genjutsu immediately, she thought.

What would Kakashi look into first?

He’d want to meet the fictional mother from Uzushiogakure. Pity, she’d passed away- Aiko squinted at the sun- a year ago. Hikari’d only started taking missions again after a few months of mourning. Konoha could check that work history if they really wanted and verify that a couple of brokers would recognize her.

‘I need to genjutsu at least one or two job contacts so that they will indicate I have a longer operational history in the area,’ Aiko decided.

She ended up flicking around the eastern coast of the continent, tracking down semi-plausible employers and convincing them that they’d met before. Those stories didn’t need to be complex or complete: no one would willingly give out too much mission information.

‘If my mother was from Uzushiogakure, I’d know a lot more about it.’ Aiko stopped for late lunch at a roadside stall and ordered karaage. Maybe food would do something to settle the odd flip-flipping sensation in her head. ‘I don’t see how I can resolve that, exactly. I’ve never been there. Would looking around give me a little more legitimacy?’

The chicken was a little too salty, but Aiko ate it anyway. She waved down the shopowner for more tea, frowning darkly at the counter in thought.

‘Tomorrow. I can try that first thing tomorrow. I’m tempted to take Utakata with me. The whirlpools are supposed to be really dangerous out there. But I can’t quite justify leaving the kids without Jounin supervision.’

She paid her tab with a sigh and stretched.

‘I’ll just have to be careful. As long as I don’t hit my head and pass out, I can always Hiraishin out of trouble.’

She’d made a lot of progress for one day. But there was one more errand she absolutely could not put off. Sakura-chan seemed surprised to see her back in the same day, but Tsunami-chan let her in without comment.

“Are you here for your laundry?” Tsunami-chan dried her hands on her apron, bustling through the kitchen. “I’m afraid I haven’t had time to fold it-” She sat the full basket on the kitchen table.

“That’s fine,” Aiko assured. She eyed the clean laundry with intense satisfaction. The choice between re-wearing dirty clothes or stealing a new outfit everyday was untenable. Why hadn’t she truly appreciated laundry facilities before? “Really, thank you so much. I’m afraid I’m having problems with the plumbing at home,” she half-explained to Sakura. The girl made a polite sound of comprehension. Aiko fussed, smiling at Tsunami-chan. “I appreciate the help. Please, is there anything I can do?” She gestured to the house. “I know that you have a lot of work right now. I could take Tazuna-san’s refreshments down, for example.”

Tsunami-chan caught on to the prompting and nodded. “Of course, I’d nearly forgotten!” She pulled open the freezer. “I have a cooler that I could use. Sakura-san, do you think your teammates would like a treat? It’s so hot out.”

The pink-haired girl made a rude sound. Then she flushed, apparently shocked her mind-to-mouth filter was malfunctioning. “They’ll love a treat, Tsunami-san!” Sakura flapped her hands. “They’ll eat anything and everything.”

Aiko made herself useful enough that Sakura wouldn’t think anything was odd. In less than an hour, she hefted the cooler of sweetened strawberry treats on her hip. “Ja mata!” She beamed back at the house in the moments before Tsunami-chan let the door slip shut.

She took the walk at a civilian pace. She tried not to scowl too much at the dust and burrs that caught on her shoes. She shifted the cooler around when her arms began to ache.

The sounds of men at work reached her before sight. Hammering, clanking, and distant shouts painted the air.

Aiko closed her eyes and stopped for just a moment. She focused.

“-that right there”

“Watch it!”

“and me that would you-”

‘Sounds a lot busier than I remember.’

She started forward decisively, a bright smile plastered on her face. “Hello!” Aiko waved at the first men she passed, noting a rather alarming amount of sweat. Ew. She kept her distance.

The workers exchanged glances. “Uh, hello.” A younger man nodded in response, not quite making eye contact. He attempted to surreptitiously pull down the sleeves he had rolled up his shoulders.

Aiko stifled a snort. Tazuna was at the edge of the bay, directing work with a fierce attitude and a rolled up set of drawings. Naruto and Sasuke were harder to spot- she didn’t manage to pick them out without looking too obviously. They were here somewhere. Had to be.

Tazuna-san’s eyebrows shot up when she got his attention. He waved away the man he’d been speaking to, a thunderous scowl pulling his lips down.

“Who the hell are you now, lady?”

Aiko’s eyes darted to either side. No one was positioned well enough to have a direct view of her face. She turned her body a little bit more and blinked on the Rinnegan for the nth time that day, feeling strain pull on her shoulders and neck muscles. “You remember me! Tazuna-san, I used to play with Tsunami-chan when my mother went off to work. I’m Hikari, Kagome’s daughter.”

His eyes glazed over. His face reddened. But he nodded in response. “That’s right, isn’t it? My wife always watched the two of you. I spent too much time working even then.”

Aiko blinked off the Rinnegan. The world moved sideways, colors blurring. There was a hand reaching for her upper arm- she twisted away with a jerk.

“Watch it now!” Tazuna-san let his hand drop, grey brows drawn in concern.

She wasn’t holding the cooler anymore-

‘What the hell?’

Sasuke had her cooler, she realized. He was stepping backwards, dark eyes warily assessing but not terribly suspicious of her.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Aiko managed something that probably resembled a smile. “Just- suddenly felt lightheaded, that was all!”

‘I must have overused the Rinnegan. Casting genjutsu is a much higher drain than just having it on.’

“Hn.” Sasuke grunted, shoulders pulling up defensively.

There was a loud, victorious crowing. “Snacks for me? Share, teme!” And then Naruto was there, tugging violently on Sasuke’s burden.

“Naruto!” Aiko snapped, appalled. His spine zinged into a straight line, along with that of the closest workman. “That was rude and I know you can do better. I don’t want to hear that from you again.”

Sasuke looked at her. Naruto looked at her, eyes wide with shock.

What?

Tazuna-san chuckled. “You sound like someone’s mom, Hikari-chan.” He ruffled her hair. “I think these two are a little old to be adopted. They’re grown up ninja, after all!”

‘They’re children. They are immature and do not have the technical skills to operate without their Jounin sensei.’

She narrowed her eyes. She let her silence speak for her.

Tazuna-san kind of looked sideways and down, as if re-remembering just how short team seven was on average.

Sasuke looked down at his feet, scowling fiercely.

“Eat your snacks, boys,” Aiko ordered, feeling powerful and adult. “You too, Tazuna-san.” She shook a finger at him. “Tsunami-san is doing a lot of work at home. And so is your teammate.” Her hand re-oriented on an alarmed looking twelve year old. “Thank them both. Someone else is going to stay home with Tsunami-san tomorrow to help around the house and with your sensei.” Her tone left no room for disagreement.

Naruto nodded wordlessly, big blue eyes focused on her.

Sasuke was averting eye contact and his shoulders were pulling up towards his neck. But his body was facing directly towards her and he was clearly paying attention.

Aiko leveled them both with one last stern look and then nodded. “Well, I’m heading back. Have a good day at work.”

The weird thing was that more than three cowed-sounding voices replied, ‘Yes, ma’am’.

‘Huh.’

The day was getting late enough that she should check in on Utakata and possibly relieve his watch. But… tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d go poke around Uzushiogakure to add some validity to her backstory. She had plenty of time before Kakashi would be waking up, but it would be best to get that out of the way.

His dreams were always the same when he had chakra exhaustion: a loop of great gasping sobs and Minato-sensei’s putting his head in his hands and Kushina-san screaming at the Uchiha clan head and the horrible little gasp that Rin had made when his fist had gone through the back of her rib cage.

Kakashi woke with an aching back and the feeling that something was wrong.

He pushed off someone’s soft futon and sat up.

Two unfamiliar scents in the room, plus all those of his students. A personal home, not an inn or safehouse. Late daylight. One two three unfamiliar chakra signatures in the vicinity and one of his students.

‘Where are the other two?’

He used the wall to stand up. His muscles were in a pathetic state no med-nin would have allowed- sore and stiff. He patiently and precisely went through the motions of the shortest stretching regimen he knew. The exercises loosened his body enough that walking without giving away weakness was no great difficulty.

‘I must not have been out as long as expected.’

The stairs were easily found. A female voice filtered up the stairs, diverted and muffled by hallways and paper screens.

“un, why don’t you try the other worksheet first?”

He couldn’t understand the response, but it was a childish whine.

Naruto laughed, boisterous and light.

Something in his spine relaxed at the sound of his student’s voice. He sounded fine. Happy. Safe.

Kakashi frowned, gripping the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. The wooden frame creaked under his fingers. Safe? Why was he worried about that? Zabuza had been killed and then taken away by that hunter-nin. His students could handle interference from civilians. Civilians didn’t operate like shinobi or anticipate-

He let go of the doorway before he caused property damage. Painful spasms ran up the muscle group connecting his fingers and forearm.

Of course. Shinobi operations were on his mind because what he’d seen had been a blatant failure in procedure. That hunter nin had taken Zabuza’s body away. And he had been alone. Hunter nin worked in teams.

Kakashi slouched in pursuit of Naruto’s voice as fast as possible.

“Sensei!” Naruto twisted to beam relief up at him without dropping the knife he held to a red chopping board. “Hey, hey, we were starting to think you were never going to wake up! You slept for almost two weeks, old man!”

The woman who was standing watch over something bubbling on the stove made a vague approving sound without turning around. The other woman in the room, a brunette, was leaning over a wide-cheeked toddler seated at the kitchen table. The brunette gave him a friendly smile.

“It’s good to see you up and about, shinobi-san!” She stepped away from the boy who had to be her son to give him a bow. Kakashi reciprocated automatically. “Your team has been working very hard while you recovered.”

Naruto ducked his chin into her chest and appeared very interested in her work. He was grinning into his collar.

“I see.”

The woman blinked. “Oh!” She turned pink. “Excuse me. My name is Tsunami. I am Tazuna’s daughter, and this is his grandson, Inari.” The child did not wave or acknowledge him. “My father is out working on the bridge. The rest of your team is with him.”

That still left one person unintroduced. Kakashi gave her back a pointed nod, maintaining pleasant eye contact with Tsunami-san.

She smiled back and then went back to helping Inari-kun practice what appeared to be katakana. Odd.

“Yo.” The redheaded woman spoke, holding a hand up for an instant. The gesture did not fit the well-manicured nails and heavily braceleted wrist that made it.

Kakashi gave the space between her shoulderblades a surprised look. “Naruto-kun. Who is your other friend?”

His loudest student blinked and then gestured at the stranger. “Hikari-san, this old dude is my sensei. Sensei, Hikari-san is Tsunami-san’s friend. She has been helping around the house since…” Naruto paused, face scrunched in thought. “Since we got here.”

‘Naruto still didn’t give my name. Does that mean the kids were attempting information control?’

Excellent. That had been the right decision to make while he had been out of commission.

“Call me Kakashi.” He aimed a calculated eye-smile at the strangers.

Inari-kun still didn’t look up. Hikari-san didn’t turn around. Tsunami-san turned magenta and starry-eyed.

He slouched a little more to look harmless.

“Eh.” Hikari-san was rudely disinterested in his introduction. Or maybe just focused on her task.

His eye twitched.

‘I’m not used to being so openly disregarded.’

Hikari-san tossed a handful of carrot into the pot and turned around. His chest seized up.

‘She looks far too familiar.’

“-ad you’re up,” Hikari-san blathered, smiling like she had a secret, Minato’s eyes half-mast. “Naruto-kun won’t admit it, but your team has been very worried for you.” She rinsed her hands, mercifully turning her face away enough that he could think again. But he could see Kushina in the curve of her jaw in profile and the long line of her neck.

‘Impossible.’

He had to be overreacting. Kakashi managed the focus to dredge up an eyesmile, despite the fact that his heart was struggling against his ribs. “Yes, well, they’re good kids.” He ignored Naruto’s flailing and protestations that he wasn’t a kid.

He watched Hikari-san’s mouth move in a daze. He saw ghosts every day but they weren’t usually a hellish blend of dead people he loved. What did this say about his psyche?

‘It doesn’t even make sense. She can’t remind me of both of them.’

Kakashi had missed what she’d said. He gave a nervous laugh.

‘What did I miss?’

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really even registered her actual features as a whole. When Hikari-san turned back around, Kakashi catalogued it.

Her hair wasn’t Uzumaki red. But it was still red. Her face was average in shape, but some of her features had a sharp look to them. Really, that wasn’t so much like either Kushina-san or Minato-sensei. Kushina-san had possessed a beautiful, wide-set facial structure that Naruto had inherited, but Minato-sensei had a narrow face. It was ridiculous, really, to see parallels where there weren’t any. Even though her eyes really did remind him of sensei’s in shape. They were black, not blue. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.

Naruto was staring at him, fingers loose around his chopping knife. The twelve year old looked deeply suspicious.

He gave his genin an intentionally dopey smile.

“I see that I’ve missed out on quite a lot while I was out.”

Now that he was actually paying attention to Hikari-san, something didn’t seem right. She wasn’t dressed anything at all like her supposed friend. She had turned her back to him carelessly, but her feet were always in a ready stance. He narrowed his eye at the woman- there wasn’t an ounce of unnecessary fat on her. The loose clothes gathered at the waist gave the impression of dramatic curves, but he suspected there was muscle hidden there instead.

‘Kunoichi.’

“I ought to get going.” Hikari-san gave a stretch. “It was nice to meet you, Kakashi-san.”

Tsunami-san’s brows twitched together. “Well, I suppose I will see you in the morning?” she tried.

Hikari-san gave the young mother a smile. But her gaze was boring into Kakashi. “Probably not. Have a good night, everyone!”

“Let me walk you home.” Kakashi kept his tone pleasant for the civilians in the room. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Naruto’s mouth dropped open in outrage, but Kakashi didn’t have time to linger on what perverted assumptions his genin might be reaching.

The kunoichi’s face tightened. “Of course.” She flashed a smile at him. “Don’t worry, Naruto-kun. I won’t wear him out.”

Naruto’s offending squalling followed the adults out. Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched even further to disguise how tense and ready his muscles were. Hikari-san shot him an amused expression through her eyelashes as she slipped on little blue shoes that matched her jacket.  

He clenched his jaw. He held the door open. He considered how he would confirm his suspicions.

She walked out in front of him, heading away from the well-beaten path that must lead to what passed for civilization around Wave.

Kakashi checked the skyline automatically. They were headed southeast, away from the coast.

“I’m not a missing nin, nor do I have village affiliations.”

He stumbled over his tired feet. “That’s honest,” Kakashi said uncertainly. Possibly, anyway. He definitely hadn’t expected her to admit that she wasn’t a civilian.

Hikari-san shrugged, looking over at him again. The amusement was gone from her face. The friendly openness she’d directed at Naruto was gone as well in favor of cold disinterest. “I don’t believe in wasting time, Kakashi-san. I merely wish to make clear that we do not need to have conflict. I have no interest in fighting you or your children.”

“What interest do you have?” Kakashi bit back, irritation rising at how dismissive she sounded.

She made a rude huffing sound. “Nothing to do with you or your little flock, so you can mind your own business,” Hikari-san informed, condescension painting her voice. “Tsunami-san is a good friend of mine. I thought it would be needlessly distressing for her to have to find a way to bury the worst babysitter in the world and three preteens.”

‘She’s right. I could have died.’

“Those three are capable shinobi,” Kakashi interrupted, hackles raised at her insinuations.

“They’re puppies,” Hikari-san dismissed.

He registered the unusual phrasing at the same time that she did, a muscle ticking in her jaw. So that hadn’t been deliberate? He filed the oddity away without letting on that he’d noticed. “I suppose I should thank you.” There was nothing thankful in his tone.

The smile Hikari-san gave him was absolutely wicked. He recoiled from it before he knew why.

“You should, unless you enjoy bedsores.”

Kakashi stood frozen for a step. He felt his cheeks heat. “Well. Ah, thank you, nurse?” he tried. When he started moving again, his legs felt even heavier.

“Oh no, I’m not a medic of any kind.” Hikari-san snorted. “Fuck no. But I was a little less clueless than your genin. Anyway, you’re welcome. Nice freckles, by the way.”

“I don’t have freckles,” Kakashi retorted, feeling his shoulders hunch up towards his chin.

She shrugged in response. She stopped walking and turned to face him fully. “Obviously, we are not walking to my house. I’m not taking you there. Look, can we just call it even and move on?” Hikari-san raised an eyebrow. “I helped you out, now you can help me out.”

“No,” Kakashi rejected. “I’m not making any deals. I don’t know whose agent you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Moron. No, I mean that your mission to connect Wave to the mainland will benefit me. I would have taken care of it if I’d known Tazuna-san needed protection, but this is better.” Hikari-san eyed him up and down. “This way, everyone knows Konoha took care of things and not me. Gato won’t be harassing you when you go back to Konoha. But I live here.”

That motive was blatantly pragmatic self-preservation. He relaxed instantly.

‘It fits. Tsunami-san did seem to know her relatively well, although she believes Hikari-san is a civilian.’

But-

“Why did you allow the situation to reach this point?” His voice had an edge. What he’d heard about Wave didn’t imply good things about anyone who could have fought Gato and chose not to.

Hikari-san’s eyes tightened. “I’ve been away from home.” That sounded like the truth. “My mother died. I took her ashes back to where she grew up.” She looked away. That could be a tactic to hide a lie or a fidget indicating discomfort at saying such an uncomfortable thing. “Then I took missions. I was out of funds. I think you can imagine why it is not my habit to seek work from people who know me.”

“Did your mother train you?” Kakashi prodded, trying to figure this woman out. Her story almost fit, but it didn’t feel right. It was possible to grow up shinobi outside of a village system, but it didn’t happen often. There was a reason that shinobi worked together in as large a group as possible.

He could see the moment she shut down, putting up a sneer like armor. Oddly, the expression helped. He’d never seen Kushina or Minato with an expression that openly sour.

“No, you did. Don’t ask stupid questions. You’ll be seeing me around, Kakashi-san.” Hikari-san flipped her braid over her shoulder. She crossed her arms. “Unless, of course, you insist on being a brute. If you mind your own business and do your job, we’ll be fine.”

If his legs weren’t shaking, he would have considered a fight. He didn’t want an unknown quantity around, especially since he suspected Zabuza and an associate were in the area.

‘She could have been that hunter nin impersonator,’ Kakashi thought, eyeing the woman’s short stature. ‘I had assessed that person as male and young, however. And I believe the voice is different.’

“Are you working with Zabuza?”

Bluntness seemed to be the order of the day.

Hikari-san rubbed at her temple with the base of her thumb. “No.” Her voice was short. “I fought him once, actually. He believes he ran me off. So you’re aware that he’s alive?” She shot him a wry look over her fingers. “I don’t like him much. I think I would prefer that you kill him over the reverse.”

He looked up at the sky, watching the sun creep towards the skyline. “My sentiments are similar.”

‘It’s too convenient. But I don’t think she’s working with Zabuza. If he’d had two associates, the hunter nin act would have been much more convincing. It follows that even a capable shinobi without a village or backup would retreat when faced with someone like Zabuza.’

When he looked back, Hikari-san was gone. But the uneasy feeling in his gut remained.

‘I don’t like this. But it might be best to keep an eye on her.’

He frowned slightly.

‘This might be a good time for a lesson on counter infiltration. I don’t like that my team had no idea there was a shinobi in the house.’

He couldn’t move very well, but he didn’t have to in order to accelerate their training. They wouldn’t learn heavy combat skills in a matter of days, but he could give them the skills to have a chance of staying out of the thick of things.

Aiko in Canon pt 8

This au is a monstrosity and it should be stopped. Here, have about 7000 more words instead. Basically, Aiko and Utakata bitch at each other a lot and criticize pretty much everyone including Pakkun, a rock, and some greenery.

“She can’t have been a shinobi.” Sasuke-teme crossed his arms. “Naruto and I saw her nearly faint after walking two miles with a moderately heavy basket. That’s not a kunoichi.” He sounded almost offended by the suggestion.

Naruto raised his hand and gripped his hair, feeling lost.

‘Teme’s got a point. But Kakashi-sensei seems sure.’

“She faked it,” Kakashi-sensei said bluntly. “Or something else was going on. This isn’t up for debate. I knew she was a shinobi the instant I saw her. Besides, she admitted it.”

Teme closed his mouth. That was hard to argue with. Sakura-chan looked down at her hands, a line creased between her brows.

‘Hikari-san didn’t seem like a bad person.’

Sakura-chan twisted her hands and made a small, confused kind of grunty sound. Her eyes were wide. “Eh, sensei? But she- Hikari-san helped a lot. She took care of you, and-”

“Yes, thank you,” Kakashi-sensei interrupted hastily. His shoulders jerked up towards his ears. “I have taken that into consideration. Sakura, I am not saying that Hikari-san is a bad person. That doesn’t mean we can trust her. If she comes around again, I expect you all to act accordingly.”

Naruto huffed, crossing his arms. Then he uncrossed them and stuck his hands in his pockets because he didn’t want to slouch like Sasuke-teme about this. “Hey sensei, why’d she lie?” he demanded. “Did she think we wouldn’t like her if we knew she was a ninja? I wouldn’t care.”

“Idiot,” Sasuke-teme said. “You should care. She’s not a Konoha ninja. She’s not our friend.”

“Yes, she is,” Naruto rejected. “Sakura-chan agrees with me, right?”

Their teammate took a step back and held up her palms, eyes darting between the two of them. “I-uh-”

“You don’t think she’s a bad ninja!” Naruto pushed, victorious. “I know you don’t. You like Hikari-san because she told you to yell at us and-”

“Baka!” Sakura-chan yelled, making a fist. Red rose in her cheeks at an alarming rate. “I don’t yell at you.” She lunged across the clearing and jammed her fist against his skull.

Kakashi-sensei’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t stop his female student.

Naruto whined and rubbed at the spot, but he was grinning. Sakura-chan was so playful.

Sasuke-teme had taken a prudent step back and to the side, putting sensei in between him and Sakura-chan.

“Right.” Kakashi-sensei put a hand on his face, muffling his next words. “Sakura, stop tormenting your teammates. Naruto, don’t antagonize Sakura. It’s not good for your health.”

Looking belligerent, Sakura-chan crossed her hands behind her back. But she didn’t say anything.

“I don’t antagonize anything,” Naruto protested, giving his teacher his full attention. “Ne, sensei-”

“We’re done with this,” Kakashi-sensei interrupted flatly like the jerk he was. His hand fell to his hip, twitching towards his pervert book.

He could just feel Sasuke-teme smirking. Bastard. Naruto bristled.

‘He thinks he’s so smart. Well, he didn’t know that Hikari-san was infiltrating us either. I don’t know what he’s so damn smug about.’

“I want to know what you three remember about counter-infiltration,” Kakashi-sensei said. He looked at Sakura-chan.

Sakura-chan opened her mouth to answer, but Sasuke-teme beat her to it.

“Enough to know that this isn’t infiltration.” He lifted his chin. “Infiltration is an attempt to destabilize an opposing force from the inside. But Hikari-san isn’t exactly behind our lines. We’re not even in Fire Country. If she’s infiltrating Wave Country, that’s not our problem,” teme dismissed scathingly.

“Unless you think she’s working for Gato?” Sakura-chan sounded shocked. “She’s not infiltrating Konoha, but she could be infiltrating us.”

“Good thought. But if she was, I’d be dead.” Kakashi-sensei paused. “Probably. I don’t see why she would allow me to live, but I don’t know her objectives.” He scratched at his jawline.

“Then why are we letting her come back?” Naruto demanded. “Either she’s nice or she’s not. I don’t see why you have to make this so complicated.”

“Maa…” Kakashi-sensei stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She claims that she grew up in Wave Country. If that’s true, then she probably isn’t our enemy. We’re going to investigate those claims before we say anything and risk frightening our clients.” He sighed. “Sakura?”

“We’ll have to go into town,” Sakura-chan answered promptly. “Tsunami-san could be lying for Hikari-san for some reason. But she wouldn’t be able to convince everyone. If we can find people who knew her when she was little, she’s probably telling the truth.”

“We should find her house, too!” Naruto bounced on his heels. “It’s probably not too far away.”

“That’s a stupid idea. How would we recognize it?” Sasuke-teme sneered. “Will she have her name on the front door?”

“No!” Idiot. Naruto scowled, because it was so obvious, duh. “It’ll be the one with a broken washer.” At the uncomprehending stares, he added, “She had Tsunami-san do her laundry, remember? If she’s really all sneaky and stuff she probably wouldn’t do something that weird for no reason. I bet her washer really is broken. If it was the dryer, she’d just hang everything up. So it has to be the washer.”

“Wait, what?” Kakashi-sensei gave him an odd look. “Are you suggesting we just break into houses and try to run laundry until we find one-”

“Yepp!” Naruto said, at the same time that Sakura-chan mumbled, “It’s not the worst idea.” He beamed at her. She looked away.

Sasuke-teme rolled his eyes.

Buoyed by his teammate’s approval, Naruto put his hands on his hips. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go counter infiltrate Hikari-san!”

Kakashi-sensei sighed, very quietly and very sadly. But Sasuke-teme started walking. Sakura-chan bit her lip and glanced between the two of them, but she decided on Sasuke-teme.

“Hey, wait up!” She hurried after the bastard’s heels.

“Why am I getting left behind?” Naruto scowled, and started running. “Oy, it was my idea! Teme! Teme!”

The clearing overlooking a lake was quiet, until all traces of an injured Jounin and his soggy genin were gone. A voice rose before anyone was visible.

“Hatake-san is not as observant as I had feared.” From her vantage point, Aiko could see that Utakata’s face was impassive, but his eyes were hard.

‘Kakashi probably knew. My genjutsu isn’t that great without using the Rinnegan. But he’d expect me to watch him anyway.’

Aiko tried not to shrug or look particularly knowledgeable about the abilities of specific Konoha nin. “He might have been pretending not to notice us,” she warned mildly. She let go of the genjutsu hiding them and inhaled deeply, enjoying one last reprieve from the muggier air below tree level. Then she tensed her muscles and leapt out from under the boughs.

The thirty feet to the ground passed in a moment. She landed on a rock, flexing her toes. Sure, she was Konoha raised, but that didn’t mean she really enjoyed clinging precariously to the parts of trees thin enough to move in the wind.

Utakata followed a moment later, touching down on the pond surface instead. “Hmm.” Utakata crossed his arms, but still his sleeves pulled in the wind.

Down on the ground level, it was unpleasantly apparent that a hot, wet breeze was pulling off the sea. It was like standing in someone’s salty breath.

“Perhaps. Do you intend to let Zabuza deal with the Konoha team?”

Aiko shot him a dry look, but she didn’t respond verbally.

That question was a trap, wasn’t it? If she said no, then the implication was that she didn’t mind letting children die. If she said yes, then she was interfering with the operations of a shinobi with whom Utakata had already negotiated a cessation of hostilities.

‘I can’t win with this guy.’

He fell in step when she gave an insolently indulgent stretch and began to saunter towards the bridge site. Utakata glanced in the direction that team seven had gone.

“It wasn’t the best cover,” he commented. “Perhaps it is for the better to leave Hatake-san to his own devices.”

What? Oh. He thought she’d given up on it because she wasn’t following team 7.

‘Ha. Funny. If Kakashi hadn’t noticed us before, he would notice us following his team around and trying to interfere with their information gathering. I’m not about those kinds of shenanigans. That’s more Naruto’s bag.’

Aiko waved that off. “They won’t find anything that contradicts my story.”

Her companion gave her an interested look from under his lashes. That angle was particularly flattering to his softly curved cheekbones.

She pretended not to notice that a very interested sort of heat was pooling in her lower abdomen. “I was thinking that we should protect our own interests, since Sharingan no Kakashi is wasting his time on a goose chase.” Her tone came out harsher than expected, almost argumentative.

Utakata scoffed softly. “Surely he’ll stay with the client.”

‘No way. He’ll have the genin go together for the experience, but he’ll shadow them as best as he can. Normally, I’d say that he’d do it personally, and put a clone on the client. But physically weak as he is… He’ll have Pakkun with the kids, a shadow clone with Tazuna-san, and attempt to supervise all at once even though he’s slowed down. He doesn’t deal well with worry or feeling limitations.’

But all that was much too personal and detailed an analysis to share with Utakata. He didn’t need to know she knew that much. And no one outside of Konoha’s power sphere needed to know what made Kakashi tick, anyway.

“Is that how Mist would do it?” she asked idly, not letting anything other than boredom cross her face.

Utakata made an offended sound from the back of his throat, which might as well have been conceding the point. Different groups had different priorities and protocols. Konoha was known for their emphasis on the importance of team bonds and cohesion. Aiko didn’t actually need to know the Konoha nin in particular. There was always a good chance that they would choose to prioritize the safety of vulnerable subordinates over that of a client.

Wave wasn’t terribly large. They only traveled a few minutes before they paused just out of visual range from the construction site’s furthest stretches. That meant that Aiko hadn’t quite figured out how to tell Utakata that she wanted him to go watch Tsunami-chan. Well. She didn’t really care if he went with Tsunami-chan or if she did. The important thing was that they cover all the ground that needed to be covered while team 7 was weakened and out.

Well. No time like the present.

“So.” Aiko clapped her hands cheerily. “Do you want to watch the bridge builder or his family?”

His body language shut her down immediately. “No,” Utakata rejected. He turned to fully face her, leveling the full belligerence of a teenaged criminal on her being. “I realize that you are new to survival as a lone agent,” he scathed. “But I, personally, would prefer to avoid all unnecessary death-”

“Alright!” Aiko held her hands up. “Calm down, you’re getting stuffier by the second.” She kicked the ground. “God.” She glared at the ground. That, right there, was a particularly stupid rock. She kicked at it again.

They coexisted in sullen silence for a long minute. Aiko sighed heavily, lifted her head, and glared up at the sky instead. Utakata upended a bit of foliage with his heel and then ground it back into the dirt until the leaves frayed to threads.

“So, you really won’t be convinced-”

“No,” Utakata said sharply. “I will not.”

Aiko scowled at a cloud that kind of looked like a lumpy turtle. “Fine then.” She forced her body to relax.

‘I don’t like this. I’d feel better if all of them had a watch. If I were trying to subvert Tazuna-san’s work, I would at least consider using his family as leverage. It’s a smart move. Easy, likely to be effective, and might not require bloodshed at all.’

She wrestled with the situation, aching over the call she had to make since her teammate refused to divide their team and hope to conquer a unified force. She liked Tsunami-chan, but her health simply wasn’t critical to their paycheck.

‘I could argue that Kakashi almost certainly has some kind of watch on Tazuna-san, making him a lower priority. I’m sure he does. But why would Utakata care? We’re not getting paid to make sure Tsunami-chan lives.’

Well. There was really only one answer.

“Do you really think Zabuza is going to haul his aching carcass out to finish his job soon?” Aiko kind of hoped for a no.

‘Tsunami-chan probably won’t die.’

Her teammate gave her a wry look, mouth pulled slightly wide. “If Hatake-san is on his feet, so will Zabuza-san. He is not known for his gentle restraint. Have you heard much about Mist jounin in general or the seven swordsmen in particular?”

Aiko blinked innocently. “Mist jounin? Mist nin come in ranks higher than genin?”

Utakata dropped his more mature-than-thou attitude long enough to jab his elbow into her rib. Aiko wheezed in surprise, seeing white sparks. Her teammate gave her an insufferably smug look and cut off her response. “I believe that you were about to impart some tenuously planned and dangerous slipshod plan of action?” He lifted a brow meaningfully.

She opened her mouth to retort but- “Yes,” Aiko admitted. It was a rude assessment, but not divorced from reality. “Surveillance of Tazuna-san is really our only option. That’s not a problem in itself, obviously. Kakashi-san is going to be the problem.”

Man, that felt weird. She’d almost forgotten to use an honorific at all and she probably should have used his last name or something but anyway

“Although I doubt that he is personally watching Tazuna-san, he won’t have left the client alone.” Aiko worried her lower lip. “I suppose he could still be there. I could be missing something.”

Utakata caught on to her trail of thought. “We must determine what type of surveillance he has left in such a way that leaves all unaware as to our presence,” he concluded.

She nodded miserably. “Yeah. Any ideas?”

He tilted his head ever-so-slightly to the side, mouth curling up into something coy. Instead of answering, he held up a hand. In it was-

“A flute?” Aiko asked, despite knowing very well that it was… was…

Well, it was definitely something used for ninja things. Probably not really a flute. Although that one girl from Sound had used a flute, hadn’t she, so a flute could be ninja equipment…

“A pipe,” Utakata corrected loftily. He tapped the end against his palm. “Sharingan no Kakashi is known for his assassination techniques, eye, and dogs. I do not believe he is likely to be utilizing the Sharingan for routine surveillance. The rest of his dossier does not lead me to believe that he is especially likely to notice a single orb hidden in leaves.”

Aiko dropped the pretense of ignorance, because she had definitely not heard about this. “You can use your bubbles like-” she stumbled, because she wanted to say something about the sand eyes that the Kazekage used, but that would certainly make less than zero sense to Utakata- “like an eye? Across distance?”

His eyes narrowed fractionally, but there was no other indication that he’d found her wording and pause odd. “I can perceive the image conveyed by one of my orbs from a distance of slightly less than two kilometers away. The orb itself has a much smaller ranger of vision.” Utakata faltered, seeming almost unsure.

‘He’s a missing nin. He doesn’t feel comfortable divulging the exact details of techniques that keep him, you know, alive.’

Aiko didn’t take it personally. “So you’ll do the hard work, send out your recon bubble,” she summed. “I suppose that my job will be to keep you safe while you’re distracted?”

Utakata paused oddly. “Yes.”

She considered asking. She didn’t ask.

“Sounds good.”

Utakata nodded, clearly far away in important thoughts.

Uncomfortable for some reason she couldn’t articulate, Aiko forced teasing brightness into her tone. “And when you get us spotted by some half-blind ninken, you can use your flute to play getaway music.” She laced her hands behind her head and bounced.

He turned to look at her. “Uzumaki-chan?” Utakata asked as dryly as was humanly possible.

‘Wait, chan? I’m moving up in the world. I’ve always been Uzumaki-san before. Sweet.’

“Yeah?” Aiko fluttered her lashes up at him in the most sickeningly sweet manner possible.

“I do not like you.”

She made a kissy face. “I don’t like you either.” Aiko winked.

Utakata made a small, disgusted sound, but he went to work instead of arguing with her. The bubble that he breathed into existence was about twice the size of a human eyeball, and perfectly clear.

Not camouflaged? Or tinted by whatever special chakra imbued it with the ability to see? That was a little underwhelming.

“I thought it might be colored,” Aiko admitted in an undertone, a little too intent on her companions work. The question hung in the air, unspoken.

‘I guess clearness does make some sense. That could conceivably help clarity of sight.’

Instead of answering, Utakata made a polite little, ‘is that so’ kind of sound and did a strange little thing where he kind of popped his lips? The bubble jerked upwards, level with Utakata’s face, and drifted so close that it was almost touching his nose. He closed his left eye deliberately and inhaled.

Aiko glanced away from the particulars, because even she knew it was poor manners to gawp at the handsigns for someone else’s technique. She wouldn’t be able to replicate it anyway, so there would be no purpose to snooping. She looked back involuntarily at the scent of fresh, hot blood, and then glanced away again despite her burning curiosity when she saw it was only a token offering portion from the pads of his fingers.

‘It looked like he used a knife for that. Why not bite? I thought that was the standard thing to do.’

Aiko amused herself by trying to recollect if she’d ever seen a shinobi who wasn’t a Konoha nin collect the blood for a summoning with their teeth. She didn’t think she had. So maybe that was a local preference originating from one of Konoha’s early clans?

The next hour or so was painfully still, tense waiting. Utakata’s face became drawn and tight. A line of frustration settled firmly between his eyebrows. When he finally tried to speak, he had to clear his throat with a little cough. “I believe I might have narrowed Hatake-san’s surveillance down to two possibilities.”

“Yeah?” Aiko put her hands on her hips and stretched without letting her head rise above the bushes concealing them.

“Un.” He swallowed. Without thinking, Aiko unclipped her water bottle and passed it over. Then she took it back, demonstrated that it was fine by drinking some herself, and passed it back again. That time, Utakata took a long drink. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing…”

‘Utakata gives a lot of those assessing looks,’ Aiko mused. ‘Is he really that perpetually suspicious, or does he just not have a terribly expressive range of facial movement?’

“There is a worker who I believe tendered his resignation to Tazuna-san yesterday after the work day was completed.” Utakata shared softly. “There is also an ugly little animal present, concealed in a bag. It is small, wrinkly-”

“Like a pug?” Aiko asked, feeling strangely offended on Pakkun’s behalf.

‘The worker will be Kakashi’s shadow clone. And it’s definitely a shadow clone, he’ll want it to be able to alert him if something is wrong. So that’s two eyes on the bridge. Solid, considering the circumstances. But that does mean I initially guessed his strategy wrong. He’s probably actually with the kids himself.’

“Pug?” Utakata repeated, unsure. He shook himself. “I have little knowledge of canine breeds. However, I suspect that this animal could indeed be some stunted variety of ninken. It is rather large to conceivably be a pest in hiding from the workers. However, it is not dissimilar to rodents that-”

Aiko held up a hand to stop the barrage of unflattering words, and- was that amusement on Utakata’s face?

‘He’s teasing me,’ Aiko realized, actually surprised. ‘I didn’t know that he had it in him. Or that he’d know I had a soft spot for dogs. I definitely haven’t told him I was a summoner… has he figured that out?’

She leaned down to her sitting teammate and slung her arm around his shoulder companionably, ignoring the way that Utakata grunted disapproval.

“You are too sharp,” Aiko said. She managed to reach around and poke the tip of his nose before he turned away. “One of these days, I really should kill you, before you figure out my life story.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Utakata said, in a tone that was heavy with sarcasm.

“See that you do.” Aiko ruffled his hair.

‘Oh, how cute. He thinks I’m joking. Like I wouldn’t kill someone just because I liked them, honestly. I mean. If we go by my personal history…’

She worried her lower lip.

‘It almost seems more likely than not that I’m going to end up breaking his flute, stealing his bijuu, and then giving it back a month later with no explanation. That’s just how things seem to go. Life is funny sometimes.’

Speaking of funny, she couldn’t decide what she thought Kakashi might have planned for his clone and Pakkun. The two obvious functions that they should somehow mutually fulfill would be to get Kakashi in case of trouble, and to stall Zabuza should he appear.

She’d thought earlier that the shadow clone was intended to dissipate at the first sign of trouble and instantaneously alert Kakashi as to the exact nature of the situation. But leaving Pakkun as a stalling tactic didn’t make sense. He was small, quiet, and intelligent, but had almost no combat ability.

‘If he’d wanted a combat oriented ninken to keep Tazuna-san alive for even a few minutes, he’d have called Bisuke or one of the other large ninken. A few of them, really. But that’d be a lot of chakra to summon and maintain. He’s compromised on that plan with Pakkun instead to save energy. Did he reverse strategy too? Pakkun could end the summon and then immediately get Kakashi’s attention from the summon realm if Zabuza shows up. Kakashi wouldn’t know the exact nature of the situation, but that would leave a shadow clone capable of stalling. If that were to be destroyed before he reached the location or it dispelled itself, he would lose out on re-integrating that chakra. But it might keep Tazuna-san alive.’

“Uzumaki-chan, do you intend to settle down in that bush?” Utakata asked. He was standing a few feet away and regarding her curiously. “Perhaps you might start a family. Live off the land. Found a neighborhood association-”

“I’m coming.” Her joints creaked when she stood, which, ow, that hurt right in the ego. No matter what Utakata said, she wasn’t old.

He edged away from the look she was giving him. Aiko consciously cleared her face and strode to take the lead. It was her turn again, wasn’t it? “Set up a visual perimeter, genjutsu cover?” she confirmed, just to be certain they were on the same page.

Utakata nodded.

‘Sunglasses would be nice. I could use the Rinnegan that way without risking anyone seeing. A sensor might pick up on the spike in chakra, but other than that, I’d be home free.’

Never mind that sunglasses would look absolutely ridiculous with her yukata. But it was really hot out. She couldn’t be held responsible for dressing in a weather appropriate manner.

‘Not sure that made sense.’

Aiko frowned, wavering. If she really didn’t want to be seen by Kakashi, then should she risk using the Rinnegan? It was a chakra drain and it was distinctive, even if the Rinnegan was so rare that pretty much no one would recognize it. But Kakashi was hella good. Did she absolutely need to artificially up her game to be certain that she was outmaneuvering him?

She was leaning towards yes.

‘Damn. Do I absolutely have to go below Kakashi’s radar? Will he be less threatened if he thinks he knows what I am doing? Or will he flip out once I approach Tazuna-san and assume I’m a hostile? He certainly couldn’t let that slide.’

“I didn’t realize genjutsu required quite so much contemplation,” Utakata commented.

Aiko ignored him, feeling her stress levels rise at the increasing likelihood that Rinnegan-directed genjutsu really was her best option. If only she didn’t suck so damn hard without it…

‘Why am I so lame? I studied genjutsu theory for like, ever, when I was trying to help Fukiko. And I got personal tutoring from Obito in blanket techniques. I feel like such an idiot. I should be able to do it. I should be able to just pick up all the pieces I have and run with them. Naruto can do that with jutsu. Kakashi’s made his own jutsu, which is even harder. I bet he can do it with genjutsu too. Probably lots of people I know are like that.’

Depressing.

The fact that she often failed to master complicated jutsu didn’t exactly make her feel any better about her genjutsu. She’d never managed to turn the Rasengan into something usable- shadow clone crutches weren’t available as an option for her, on account of how shaky her shadow clone technique was.

‘I could probably learn them properly and use them with the Rinnegan.’

Which brought her back to the same problem.

‘Well’, Aiko consoled herself. ‘My weapons and taijutsu are pretty solid. And I’m not half bad at fuinjutsu. I can’t be great at everything.’

“Hold on,” Aiko snapped. Only belatedly, she realized that Utakata had been talking again. What had he been saying? It must have been annoying. Still, that was no excuse for being rude to him. She sighed. “Sorry. I was having a pity party. I’m going to have to resort to something I didn’t want to use. I don’t want to risk Kakashi noticing that we’re here halfway through. It’s preferable if he believes that we can’t actually hide from him, you know?”

Utakata gave a sort of loose half-shrug without stopping the fidgeting motion of his left hand. He was spinning some kind of small pendant on a chain.

‘Tmi, probably. Utakata doesn’t actually care about my problems.’

Aiko rubbed at her temples and pressed her eyes shut. When she opened the Rinnegan, it was pointedly off to the side, because she wasn’t interested in any comments. “Stand close. I’m going to anchor the illusion to myself. I’m doing visual, auditory, and olfactory. That doesn’t mean you should make any loud smells. I’m not infallible.”

He started to repeat something in a questioning tone, but Aiko wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she was funneling out a truly atrocious amount of her life’s energy into a three-dimensional illusion, tapping into the principles of the hell viewing technique that Kakashi himself had taught her. Hopefully, that would show any observers what they expected to perceive. She augmented that with a manipulation of a victim’s color perception that should make both Aiko and Utakata blend in better with the foliage so that the main technique didn’t need to confuse any observers more than necessary. The cherry on top was a blanket technique with a mild sedative effect for anyone who got within range. That should calm most paranoid minds.

Halfway through, her head was pounding. When she secured the last spider webs of manipulation, she was seeing floating spots in her peripheral and there was a distinct possibility that she was going to lose her lunch.

‘Nope. Can’t,’ Aiko told herself in determination. She wrapped her arms around her gut. ‘The smell would ruin all my hard work. Gotta keep it together.’

“Hmm.” Utakata leaned back, catching the chain he’d been playing with. There was a nearly imperceptible eye twitch. He narrowed his gaze at her work, catching near invisible slivers of chakra thread. His mouth twisted. “Decent work.”

Aiko very sincerely considered killing him. She could reach right into his chest, pull out his heart, and let it squish out between her fingers. He’d be sorry for being a flippant little shit then.

‘Oh my god, I’m lying to myself. He would not be sorry. He would think it was hilarious that I got so upset about it. That’s the same reason he pretended not to be impressed. He wants a reaction.’

So she smiled sweetly through her teeth. “Thank you.” At his offended sniff, she knew she’d guessed correctly. Aiko tossed her hair, smug victory easing the pain a bit. Some hair hung down in her face, so she brushed it away. And brushed again, frowning when the shadowy lines across her vision didn’t fade. But her fingertips only touched skin.

‘Oh. This is new.’ Aiko paused. ‘And terrible.’

But it was the kind of terrible thing that she wasn’t interested in sharing. Her vision wasn’t truly that obstructed. She could deal with it. Maybe, if she ignored it long enough, it would just go away.

Utakata frowned, tapping a long index finger against his crossed arms. “Why are you crossing your fingers?”

Aiko shrugged. “Helps me direct chakra,” she lied blandly. “Now hush. We’re going to move closer.”

The banter quit as they approached the construction site. Aiko stopped the forward creep with a hand held up before they could break the treeline. When Utakata looked at her, she cocked her head at him and laid her palm against a nearby tree meaningfully.

It took a moment for comprehension to flash across his face –having the high ground would improve their visibility and take them out of general line-of-sight, but Kakashi was too skilled and they were too close to stupidly risk channeling active chakra to climb normally. Her partner obligingly enough held out laced hands for her to step on, boosting her up without using any chakra. Utakata lifted easily, putting her within arm’s reach of the lowest branch worth standing on. Once she was up, Aiko hooked her knees around the branch and swung down, letting the force of motion bend her body nearly against the underside of the branch before she jerked her fingers meaningfully on the verge of swinging the other direction. Utakata gave her a bland look that implied he had not planned on her assistance, but he took her hands and let her pull.

The slight widening of his eyes when she jerked up with her abdomen and pulled his body entirely off the ground told her that Utakata hadn’t actually believed she could lift him. Despite his surprise, he expertly caught onto the tree and pulled his hands away from her, retreating towards the bole of the tree sulkily. Aiko huffed, rolling her eyes as she clambered to a standing position.

‘It’s called momentum, idiot. I don’t have to be built like freaking Obito to move one skinny teenager. I just have to be slightly smarter.’

Her companion gave off a distinct air of wounded pride, but he didn’t complain about working together to reach a decent height. Aiko led the way, carefully winding up and across close branches to cross trees. Eventually, leaves thinned and branches parted.

The construction site spread out before her invitingly. Aiko held her hand up for scale, noting that the closest worker visually appeared to be about the height of her pinky finger. It took a minute of silent calculation to work out their exact distance, using that for scale.

And then Utakata leaned over her shoulder and disrupted her attention. His body was curled taut like that of some horrible bird. He didn’t seem particularly stable in his distracted state. She considered putting a hand to his chest and pushing him off to the ground. It would be really stupid, but it’d also be funny.

‘Another time, perhaps. Today, I am serious.’

From her vantage point, it was apparent that the bridge was coming along nicely. The great pillars looming out of the water were entirely complete, connected with a skeletal metal rigging. The seven closest supports were floored with enormous sheets of something that resembled concrete. It was actually difficult to see the far edges of the bridge that were currently being worked on, due more to rising mist than the distance.

‘They’ve got a long way to go. The coast is almost a kilometer out.’

Tazuna-san didn’t dream small, though. She’d gladly give him that credit. The bridge was almost unnecessarily wide. Surely it would have been much easier and cheaper, as well as faster, to make a simple two-lane bridge. Tazuna-san’s bridge was wide enough for more than four wagons to pass alongside at once.

In afterthought, it was embarrassing that Kakashi’s clone dropped its henge and shouted for the civilians to hit the ground before Aiko even realized that Zabuza-san was present.

‘The mist. Duh. It shouldn’t have been that high. Big clue.’

At her side, Utakata all but vibrated with tension. Aiko reached out blindly and patted at his knee to calm him down.

He looked at her, wild-eyed.

‘He probably doesn’t want to renege on his gentleman’s agreement with Zabuza. I suppose it might be an unnecessary risk, from his perspective.’

Well. It wasn’t like she relished the idea that she might have to step in. It would be optimal if Kakashi handled things. He might get testy about a foreign nin interfering in his mission, even if it was to help him. Her goal wasn’t to piss him off. So Aiko tried to radiate calm thoughts at her partner, tilting her head slightly and blinking slowly. Utakata did not seem reassured, but he did stare at her much longer than usual.

‘Oh. Right. Creepy peepers.’

Aiko felt a little guilty- they were unnerving and that was clearly not what a jumpy nuke-nin needed- but the genjutsu had to stay. She could control it much better with the eyes powered up. If she was going to interfere in this fight, it was going to be once and from a position of absolute anonymity. She was not interested in getting into a dick measuring contest with Zabuza or Kakashi when the option of being, you know, sneaky, was available.

The civilians were howling and screaming and running for cover or just plain running in the incredibly impractical way that frightened people did when a situation was utterly beyond their ken. Zabuza and Kakashi darted around them, flickering in and out of visibility with metal clangs. At each one, Aiko winced.

A shadow clone really wasn’t that sturdy. If Zabuza figured it out, or wore it down, it’d be toast.

She couldn’t hear what Zabuza was saying, but it preceded him leaping backwards dramatically and working through a long series of handsigns. Like, a really long series. Aiko rolled her eyes- and then realized that Kakashi was copying them. Judging by the redness in his face, Zabuza was not amused by the copycat.

Aiko projected as much negativity as was humanly possible at Kakashi’s shadow clone.

‘Oh my god, this is stupid. Hit him! Hit him while his hands are busy!’

It probably didn’t sense her bad thoughts…?

Zabuza’s water dragon roared up, darted towards Kakashi’s- and then broke course at the last second to attempt to run Tazuna-san down because Zabuza was a man after her own heart, more interested in the mission than posturing. The old man shrieked in fright and threw his flask at it. Pointlessly, of course- Kakashi’s water dragon twisted around to ram Zabuza’s dragon. It connected at the neck, charging through. There was a horrible, entirely audible crash like the collision of two scaled bodies, and then both chakra constructs collapsed in a wave. Zabuza landed easily on top of the resulting eddies. Kakashi’s clone flickered, weakened from that draining jutsu and a series of impacts.

Aiko straightened her back.

‘Game’s up. Zabuza will know it’s not the real Kakashi. He’ll stop the dramatics and finish the job fast, before Kakashi can get here.’

Surely enough, Kakashi’s shadow clone dissolved in the next series of vicious taijutsu, ultimately felled by an ankle sweep. Aiko snorted into her fist. How ignominious. Then she gave Utakata a vaguely apologetic look, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. She would have to step in before Tazuna ended up dead. It was annoying, but she didn’t fancy having to find another architect of his par to complete the project.

‘It would be nice to take care of Haku first, but I don’t see him at all.’

Utakata was green, but he nodded.

Aiko took that as permission to pull out a single kunai. She leaned in.

Zabuza was still talking even with his opponent gone. Holy cow, that man was chatty for a master of an art of silent killing. Aiko frowned and cocked her head, listening for just a second.

“….points to hit. Heart. Larynx.”

‘Whatever you say, buddy.’

Aiko repressed a snort and tuned out of Zabuza’s monologue to frightened civilians, pulling her hand back. Her aim was pure whimsy- a clear, merciless strike from complete silence.

Zabuza’s voice cut off. It was hard to tell from the distance, but the expression on his face might have been a quiet confusion. He lifted one hand to the cheap, standard-issue kunai embedded in his larynx. Then he fell to his knees, gargling blood.

Aiko watched dispassionately, not letting the genjutsu flutter. There was fresh screaming from the closest construction workers, but there was a distinct quirk of befuddlement to the shouts that she didn’t bother to decipher.

“Zabuza-sama!”

Ah. There was Haku, pushing up his hunter-nin mask to display pretty features contorted in fear and horror. Aiko crossed her arms and waited, letting time to do the work for her. Two seconds. Four. At six, Haku fluttered miserably over the prospect of removing the kunai. Zabuza was twitching. The teenager had to know that the metal was the only thing stoppering up blood, but it was also blocking his air and drowning him. Eight seconds. Haku took the risk, driven by panic instead of reason.

Utakata shifted his weight uncomfortably. Aiko shook her head.

‘Haku’s not a medic. Zabuza doesn’t have a chance.’

Death was quicker with the projectile removed, although not really cleaner. Maybe it was more merciful. Who could say? Aiko assumed that Zabuza’s heart had stopped when Haku collapsed onto his mentor’s chest and wailed, tugging at fistfuls of bandages. Chunky blood bubbled up out of the sopping hole and frothed at Zabuza’s lips when Haku began pounding his fists against the still chest. He screamed nonsense for a while, and then sort of gradually loosened into a slump that might have been a hug, of sorts.

Utakata tapped her arm and gave an inquisitive expression.

Aiko shrugged, telegraphing the motion. If she’d shared a hand language with him, she would have expressed that she’d prefer to let Haku tire himself out. Utakata seemed to get the gist that she didn’t plan to interfere with the kid’s grief, at least.

‘Nice. He’ll cry himself down, and I won’t have to kill him. That’s just kind of depressing. Team seven is a bunch of bleeding hearts without me. They’ll probably let Haku live.’ Aiko rolled her neck, relaxing in the breeze. The heat of the worst part of the day was finally passing. ‘Once they’re gone, maybe I’ll revive Zabuza, tell him I’m suuuuuper sorry for not holding to our gentleman’s deal on account of being a shitty person, and then offer to split Gato’s cash with him.’

She did still have daydreams about Zabuza as the Mizukage, after all. That’d be interesting. Sure, Kakashi would be fucking baffled if Zabuza popped up later, but, you know. That sounded like someone else’s problem.

Haku’s sobbing faded. Aiko eyed him up, wondering if it was a ploy. He couldn’t have forgotten that someone had attacked Zabuza. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he was hoping she’d just kill him too.

“No such luck, kitten,” Aiko murmured, rubbing at the back of her neck.

Of course, that was when Kakashi darted into sight and stopped abruptly. He gave Zabuza’s corpse a short, bewildered look.

Tazuna-san poked his head out from behind a crate and raised his hands in a ‘hell if I know’ gesture. Whatever Kakashi said in response was too quiet for her to pick up on, but he kept Haku in his peripheral as he scanned the vicinity.

Aiko pressed her lips together and definitely did not snicker at his obvious confusion at how the situation had changed in the minute or so that he’d had no surveillance on the situation. After a while, he ventured to prod at Haku. The teenager didn’t respond, so he cautiously toed away the discarded kunai that Haku’d flung to the concrete edge of the bridge. He wouldn’t find anything terribly interesting, Aiko was afraid. Kakashi picked it up and sniffed at it, but come on. All he’d get off that was blood. Aiko scoffed. What a ridiculous man. He looked back over at Zabuza.

And then he lifted his head and unerringly focused his one eye on her position. Aiko nearly choked on her heart, which had relocated to her throat.

‘Holy shit! He can see me?’

But no. His expression was tight, but there was no recognition. A second to calm down, and Aiko pieced it together- he’d figured out what direction Zabuza had been facing before he fell and tracked back the trajectory of the projectile. In like, a minute.

‘Damn, that’s sexy.’

She reached out and hooked her fingers in Utakata’s collar. He was so used to the manhandling that he didn’t even attempt to jerk away. He did let out a sigh in the instant before she used Hiraishin to pull them far away, before Kakashi could come over and confirm her identity.

There was no way that conversation wouldn’t be at least mildly awkward. Better to not be there.

CHAPTER 9

“And you really don’t know what happened?” Aiko rubbed at her arms defensively, eyes theatrically wide. “How do you know he’s – he’s gone?” She had a bit too much fun getting her voice to wobble in fright.

Sasuke cast yet another mildly accusative look at Kakashi, as if to illustrate some point.

Kakashi nodded patiently, for the nth time. “I assure you, the missing nin is gone. You have no need to worry.” His tone was perfectly civil. Outwardly, there was no sign that she was probably his only suspect for Zabuza’s sudden and mysterious case of ‘knife in neck’.

Tsunami-chan nodded. Her hands shook a little at she set down cold barley tea at the table. “Father is not certain what he saw, but he is unwavering on that point.”

Aiko took her tea.

'Are Naruto and Sakura still with Haku?’

Honestly, that seemed a little trusting for the man that she remembered. Haku was still dangerous. He was certainly more dangerous than two fresh genin.

'But he’d know better than I would, here.’ Aiko swallowed tea to chase away the sourness of bile. ’He’s making all sorts of decisions that seem wrong to me, and it’s working out fine. It’s not like home. Maybe Naruto and Sakura are more capable without however I interfered in their development.’

“Hikari-chan?”

Aiko jumped when Tsunami-chan laid a hand on her wrist- not out of surprise, mind, but an aborted attack. Her heartrate jumped. She’d nearly-

It was better not to think about it.

“I don’t feel well,” Aiko confessed. Suddenly, she just felt tired. Even playing psychological games with Kakashi didn’t seem fun anymore.

“Oh.” Tsunami-chan looked dismayed. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She began unlacing her apron. “I’ll walk you home. How would you like some nice okayu?”

Aiko held up her hands. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” she deferred. Although okayu did sound lovely. Tsunami-san didn’t really know her. This wasn’t her decision. She was trying to invest her energy into a stranger under a stranger’s influence. Tsunami-san didn’t deserve this. “Thank you, it’s very kind, but-”

'But I have no house and kitchen for you to make that in. And if you walk me home, Kakashi will definitely follow. I won’t be able to expose him without giving up my civilian cover, and I won’t be able to take you to a house that doesn’t exist.’

Maybe it was reflex borne from years of reliance on him, maybe it was just plain stupid. But Aiko found herself giving Kakashi an imploring glance, just for an instant.

His expression didn’t change, but she could sense that he was startled. He didn’t act it, though, standing smoothly. “Saa, Tsunami-san, you are so busy,” Kakashi schmoozed. Aiko could hear the sloppy smile that went with that tone. Tsunami-chan could too, if the faint blush on her cheeks was any indication. “Let me do it. Sasuke-kun will stay with you and help with dinner. We don’t want to trouble you, do we?”

Sasuke and Aiko both nodded. A moment later, Aiko wondered if Kakashi had been referring to just himself and Sasuke. Oops.

Tsunami-chan conceded with good grace. “Alright then. Have a good walk, Kakashi-san, Hikari-chan.” Mischievousness broke into her tone. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Aiko opened her mouth to point out that Tsunami-chan had a son. Then she shut it. It was safer to pretend not to understand that joke.

Oddly, Sasuke was giving Kakashi a dark look that hinted at some kind of agreement.

She took a moment to wish she had a coat. It was getting chilly as the sun went down. But no, she’d worn a yukata today. Aiko let herself out to the genkan and switched her slippers for her outside shoes. Kakashi joined her a moment later.

She eyed him sideways. It was downright remarkable that he could manage to be so graceless when putting on shoes.

Kakashi gave her an innocent look and rubbed his foot along the floor to adjust the fit of his sandals.

Aiko felt a twitch coming on. So she lifted her head. “Please excuse me,” she called back into the house even as she fiddled with the door. “Please rest, Tsunami-chan!” And then she let herself out into the night.

Kakashi caught up with her a few moments later, hands already in his pockets. They walked in silence for a time.

It was oddly pleasant, given that they both knew where this was going.

He broke the quiet first. “You killed Zabuza.”

“Killed is a strong word,” Aiko said mildly. And it was. She’d temporarily un-alived him, pending reconsideration. She may or may not revisit her decision at a later date.

“You have what you want, I presume,” Kakashi continued mildly. “Unless you need Zabuza’s head for the bounty. You watched us bury him, didn’t you?”

She hummed, not really answering one way or the other.

She had watched that. And- she’d rather hoped for that outcome, since it would make reviving Zabuza significantly easier.

But there was also something unsettling about the knowledge. In this time, Kakashi had been kinder. He’d helped the genin give Zabuza a decent burial instead of doing the logical thing and confirming the kill. That had probably been better for the genin’s short term mental health, if she were honest. But it was strange. She was the only thing missing from team 7, as far as she could tell. How had her absence made such a difference? What was wrong here? Was team 7 really so much gentler without her?

'I don’t know if that’s good or bad, even.’

“You should go.” Kakashi’s voice had an unmistakable edge to it now. “I don’t want you around my team.”

That hurt a lot more than it should have. Aiko swallowed. Her eyes felt hot. She needed to get her head in the game. “I haven’t hurt anyone,” she defended, too weak and too late. “Leave me alone.”

Kakashi zeroed in on her weakness. “We don’t need you,” he brutally pin-pointed. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you need to leave. Do you think Tsunami-san needs a missing nin around? You know the kind of trouble that brings. If you really care, you’ll go and you won’t look back.”

“I’m not a missing nin,” Aiko snapped, actually wounded.

He paused for a moment.

“I’m not,” Aiko repeated more softly. “I just don’t have a village-'anymore’- to live in. That’s different.’

She wondered if he could hear what she wasn’t saying in that pause. Perhaps. He’d never seemed to read her well, but that could easily have been lack of motivation.

"Why are you fixated on us?” Kakashi asked.

Aiko tensed. She instantly regretted it. He’d just been making shots in the dark, but she’d gone and confirmed it. Well done.

Aggressive tension rose, high and angry. He wasn’t playing.

“One of your kids looks like- reminds me of someone I used to know,” Aiko confessed, feeling afraid that she was going to have to actually fight Kakashi. She didn’t want to, she just wanted to go home and she couldn’t go home there was no home for her here-

He moved.

She managed to dodge despite the distortion of dampness in her vision. Kakashi waited a moment, clearly letting her regain her balance before he moved at her again.

'He’s just trying to scare me off,’ Aiko knew. 'He doesn’t really want to fight either.’

Well, fuck him.

Her chakra roared into the air, angry and thrumming and so long coming after the miserable months she’d had. She saw Kakashi’s eye widen in the instant before she charged, already holding the kunai she’d had in her sleeve. He met her blow with his own blade. Sparks flew. He pushed at her- and then leapt backwards to disengage.

She followed, but she flung her kunai to the ground pointedly to make clear that this was taijutsu. Kakashi looked outright confused. His hand wavered. He could go for the killing blow. She couldn’t block a weapon with her bare hands.

He pulled his armed hand away at the last moment and blocked with his left. The motion didn’t completely arrest her force.

'He’s not as strong as I remember.’

Aiko bared her teeth and backhanded him. Her bones shuddered against his jaw. His face flew to the side, shock plain.

In his defense, it was a terribly personal attack to make. He couldn’t understand how much he’d hurt her. But she was tired, and lonely, and angry, and it didn’t seem to matter that it wasn’t fair to him. Life wasn’t fair, so she might as well share her pain.

His free hand twisted around to secure her leading arm. Aiko pulled herself back to the thrown kunai, evading the hold.

“What are you-” Kakashi cut himself off for the focus necessary to counter her water jutsu with a similar one. He grunted when they met, a line appearing on his forehead. “And to think I was concluding-” fire evaporated her next blow. “That you weren’t really into this!”

’Asshole!’

Aiko reared back and attempted to cut him in goddamn half with a chakra chain. She had to jerk to the side at the last second, a shock of fear jumping up her spine. He hadn’t moved. He wasn’t going to dodge. “The hell?” Aiko demanded, pointing at him accusatively. “You’re supposed to dodge attacks, you oversized radish!” She let her chain recede, curling over her head where he couldn’t stumble over it. “Cotton headed ninny muggins!” she outright screamed, her voice turning shrill and so ugly.

He was staring. At her? At the chain? Hard to tell.

She stomped her foot. “Assbutt!”

That shook him out of it. His tone was- strained. “Thank you for reminding me. Yes. I have quite forgotten how combat works. Another time, perhaps.” And… he turned around?

Aiko gaped.

“But you started it,” she said dumbly.

He waved over his shoulder. “Maa, have a good night, won’t you?”

“Wait.” She said, very quietly to his back. Aiko felt pathetic even as she said it. She didn’t really know what she was asking for, but it wasn’t a fight.

Kakashi heard her. She knew he had. He paused for a moment, but kept walking.

She waited until he was gone to start crying. In that, at least, she retained a little dignity.

She remembered what Kakashi had said. Aiko didn’t go back to the house. She kept her distance to watch the remainder of the construction. It went at remarkable speeds now that the immediate threat was removed. Team 7 joined their labors. Much to Aiko’s surprise, so did Haku.

“He has nowhere else to go,” Utakata pointed out when he caught her staring.

“Yes.” Aiko clawed at the ground, gathering dirt up in her fingers. “He’s probably better off that way.” She glumly let the dirt fall. “Going to Konoha, I mean. Zabuza wasn’t the nicest man. Haku is probably better off like this.”

Utakata leveled a disbelieving stare on her. “You do not understand people at all.”

“I’m sure he misses Zabuza,” Aiko argued. “Or he would if he knew. But Zabuza is violent and angry and now they’re having a much nicer time-”

“There’s something wrong with you.” Utakata sidestepped away from her, brow furrowed in disapproval. “You are speaking nonsense. Haku respected and admired Zabuza. Of course he misses his mentor, regardless of Zabuza’s personal flaws.”

“Really?” Aiko asked wistfully. There was dirt under her fingernails. “But she’s not a very nice person, and Konoha is so nice.” Aiko made a sour face and a fist.

Utakata didn’t respond. After a moment, she looked up. The look her was giving her might have been pitying. He looked away too quickly for her to be certain.

He certainly sounded like he would prefer to be anywhere else in the world. “I believe,” Utakata picked distastefully. “That… Haku. Haku would choose to have Zabuza. Were it his decision.”

Aiko bit her lip. She looked back in the direction of the bridge and measured the distance to Zabuza’s grave. She sucked in a slow breath. “Well. If you’re sure.” She stood and brushed dirt off her legs. “Let’s go.”

“…What?”

Despite his confusion, Utakata easily followed. “I do not understand. Uzumaki-chan?”

“It’s Aiko,” she corrected. “You’re the only person who knows my name. You might as well use it. I use yours.”

He flushed red. The color contrasted in an unbecoming way against the blue undertones of his skin. “Aiko-san,” Utakata decided slowly. “Would you explain what we are doing?”

Something about hearing her real name was comforting enough that she decided to indulge him. “I’m going to show you a jutsu that I don’t use often. I’m…” She paused. “I’m trusting you with this, okay?” And she hoped that wasn’t a mistake.

The awkward part was getting him to help her retrieve Zabuza’s body.

“You think you can raise the dead.” Utakata said it with no inflection. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. “That is completely mad.”

Aiko puffed her cheeks out, ready to argue.

“As are most things that you do.” His shoulders sank, but his tone firmed in determination. “Are… I do not dare suppose that you have a jutsu for digging up bodies?”

She sucked in air through her teeth. “Ano… Technically?” She ventured. “But it’s a really bad idea to expend the chakra before I try this. Especially since he’s been sitting for like. A week…” It was going to be a lot of work.

Utakata twirled to give her a disbelieving look. “You have ridiculously over-sized chakra reserves.” He managed to make that sound like an accusation.

Aiko shrugged at him. “It’s not my fault.”

He gave the ground a deeply resentful stare. “Must… Must I engage in manual labor?”

“Um.” She cocked her head. “Maybe a water jutsu?”

“Do you want to chase a rotten and soggy corpse in a mudslide?” Utakata asked pleasantly.

Aiko stepped away.

He sighed. “Pity.” With one last baleful stare to the sword making Zabuza’s head, Utakata took off his outer robes and passed them to her. Aiko folded the material automatically and watched as he pushed his sleeves up. They immediately fell back down. With a picture perfect scowl, Utakata took the time to immaculately roll them up.

She fixed his robe under her arm and stepped in to help fix his clothes. “Maybe if you tie it, like this?”

“That will suffice,” Utakata agreed. “And-”

“Yes, I have a hair tie. Bend down a bit?” Aiko worked the tie off her wrist and stood on her toes. “I think a high ponytail would look better on you.”

“A little off-center,” he decided.

After a moment’s fussing, Aiko stepped back and declared him perfect.

Utakata gave a smug little smile. “Yes,” he agreed. He turned back to his task, visibly ready. Then he stood there.

Aiko checked to make sure that she wasn’t wrinkling his robe, smoothing her hand over the soft fabric.

“Aiko-san?”

“Yes?”

Her partner paused. “Do we have a shovel?”

Several minutes later, Aiko passed off her stolen shovel and perched nearby to watch her partner work. He did so with a mixed air of equally powerful determination and resentment. After what seemed to be an absolute eternity, at least half an hour, he’d unearthed enough of the cloth wrappings that Zabuza had been buried in for her to gingerly step in.

They eyed the corpse with matching trepidation.

“We should pull him up,” Aiko said. “And unwrap him.” Her voice came out oddly, what what her fingers pinching her nose shut and all.

“The alternative will likely prove troublesome and disorienting,” Utakata agreed.

They observed a moment longer.

“Zabuza-san is famously resilient.”

“Yes,” Aiko agreed. “It’ll be fine.” She handed him his robe and stretched her fingers. “You might want to back up, just a bit. The only place to summon is where you’re standing.” She blinked the Rinnegan on.

“Summon?” Utakata asked, but he was already moving.

He’d see.

And see he did. She didn’t sense so much as a flicker in his chakra control when the god of death resentfully stared out at her. This time, Aiko noticed that the god was eagerly drinking in the scenery. It was only her that he seemed to level with resentment.

'That can’t be good.’

“Give back Momochi Zabuza,” Aiko commanded. She waved her hand at the body. “Heal him, first.”

That particular bit of insolence did get a flutter of fear from Utakata.

“Don’t worry,” Aiko reassured without breaking her stare with the god. “He won’t hurt you.” She missed whatever he offered in response when she gasped, body flinching when he took the chakra toll.

She’d been right to ration her energy. Zabuza hadn’t been in any kind of state resembling health when he’d gone to confront Kakashi. Lungs full of dried blood and a torn throat certainly hadn’t helped matters.

“Idiot,” Aiko gasped, hands on her chest for air. “Stupid, what are you trying to prove-” Her vision went white. She came back to herself trembling. The god was gone. Zabuza was struggling and shouting, contorting like a caterpillar in his burial shroud. Utakata wasn’t paying him any attention at all, instead crouched over her. She waved him off. “Help him, would you?” She forced her body to a standing position. She’d been crouching. Funny, she didn’t remember doing that.

The hairline cracks were in her vision again. Good thing she’d turned the Rinnegan off. Oh, she hadn’t. Aiko did that. Instantly, the shadows in her gaze became so much worse. They stretched like a jagged spiderweb, curved lines concentrated in the left sides of her vision. She could see fairly clearly out of the right half of both eyes. That left her concentrating oddly on the left side of her nose and the ocean view in her peripheral.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. She didn’t cry. Her eyes were just a little moist from strain.

'Itachi nearly went blind from channeling too much chakra into his eyes.’

No big. All she needed was an elite medic who had devoted years of study to her bloodline.

Aiko laughed, the sound edging into hysteria. The sharp edges cut into the rumbling of Zabuza’s conversation.

“Uzumaki-san?” Utakata sounded careful and distant again. She waved her hand at him mutely and shook her head. She didn’t bother trying to open her eyes. If they were closed, she could pretend everything was normal. It was fine. This was fine.

“Uzumaki?” Zabuza demanded. “The hell does an Uzumaki have to do with anything?”

Utakata’s foot twisted in her dirt. He must have wheeled at Zabuza. “Watch your tongue,” Utakata snapped.

'He’s never rude to anyone but me before,’ Aiko thought, a little disgruntled. 'And here I thought what we had was special.’

“Uzumaki-san is the reason that you are brushing away maggots. You should kneel, cur.”

Aiko cringed. She hadn’t needed that visual.

“I suppose I’ll just fall to my damn knees,” Zabuza countered.

Utakata started to tear into him about disrespect or something, but Aiko couldn’t be assed to listen. Maybe it was the chakra loss, maybe it was her recent mood, maybe it was-

“Oh, right,” Aiko said in an air of revelation. “Not eating means less chakra.” She’d been feeling too down to venture to a restaurant to find dinner. It was still early enough that places would be open. She needed to refuel. She’d feel better when her body had raw energy to convert into chakra.

The arguing paused.

“Perhaps we could discuss this in a more civilized environment.” Utakata crossed the short distance back to her. She could hear his quiet steps, his breathing, and smell the light perspiration from his exertion. When his arm brushed hers, she moved instinctively and found that he was holding her arm, offering support.

Zabuza made a disgusted sound.

'Food now, argue later.’

“Come here,” Aiko decided, holding a hand regally in his direction.

She probably missed some kind of nonverbal communication. There was a sense of begrudging resentment in the rough touch when Zabuza grabbed at her hand.

Aiko didn’t still. She didn’t. She just rather suddenly remembered that he was a large individual, famous for killing a large amount of helpless individuals. And she was currently very weak by her standards. That was all. She was just remembering the situation.

He snorted again. But his hand adjusted in her grip, the callus pulling at her skin in a way that might have been intended to convey there was no cause for alarm.

On the bright side, it was even easier to tune in to the song of her seals without the distraction of sight.

'Oh my god, no. I am not going to become the kind of person who looks for the bright side. There is no silver lining. I am in a winterland of sadness.’

She kept that firmly in mind throughout the mess of getting seating and ordering dinner. When she finally pried her eyes open, it was- better. Not good, but better. The shadows in her vision were the solely vertical lines that she’d initially mistaken for bangs.

That did make her soup a little easier to get down. Aiko picked out the biggest bits of wakame and then lifted the bowl to drink the broth. She was already moving for the tempura on a shared plate, stomach rumbling. Mm, sweet potato. And cucumber. and chewy little bits of octopus with the nice pop of circular suckers against her tongue. After the tempura was gone she devoured the bed of shredded daikon the arrangement had come on. Then hey, a rice ball.

When she finally looked up, Zabuza and Utakata were staring at her with variations of shock and horror. When he noticed her looking, Utakata cleared his expression and lifted his bowl delicately to his mouth.

“If you don’t slow down, you’re going to suck that down the wrong pipe and die, girl,” Zabuza informed. The waitress set down a plate of karaage. The fried chicken was still steaming.

Aiko narrowed her eyes. Without looking away, she reached out and pulled the serving plate towards her. She ate three pieces without looking down at the plate.

Zabuza looked away first. He was weak.

“Do we get to eat?” he asked Utakata, not that quietly.

“There are still riceballs there,” Aiko pointed out. Her stomach wasn’t screaming for attention anymore. Actually, she was starting to feel a little… full. Aiko frowned, putting a hand across her stomach. “I guess you can have the rest of this too.” Aiko pushed the karaage away hardly touched.

“My thanks,” Zabuza snarked. He wasn’t too proud to take the chicken.

Aiko paused thoughtfully on that nuance. Now that she was slowing down, her head was clearing a bit. Her chakra reserves were filling up in drips, brushing the tops of her metaphorical toes now. She laced her fingers under her chin and braced her elbows on the table.

Zabuza halted, three pieces of chicken in his mouth at once. He gave her a suspicious look.

There was probably a diplomatic way to ask, but she just wouldn’t be herself if she looked for it.

Aiko smiled at him. “How was being dead?”

He stared at her. One hand lifted up to his neck. “I didn’t,” Zabuza argued. He lowered his brows and scowled.

“You did,” Aiko countered. She tapped at her throat pointedly.

He might have paled underneath his tan. “You… were the Hunter Nin agent,” Zabuza realized slowly.

Aiko smiled mildly.

Zabuza’s breath was silent, but she saw the way his chest moved when he carefully inhaled. He eyed her up and down with more intensity than before. “I had thought that you made a convincing operative,” he commented.

She tilted her head to the side, not letting her smile slip.

He set down his chopsticks with a quiet clink. “I suppose I should offer my gratitude.”

Oh. Did he think she was blackmailing him or something?

“I don’t require anything from you.” Aiko stretched her foot under the table, bored with the interaction now that it had fallen down predictable lines. “It might be nice if you would get rid of Gato. I don’t like him.”

At that, Zabuza bristled. “If I don’t keep him around, I don’t get paid,” the nuke-nin said slowly. It wasn’t exactly a challenge. Nor was it friendly.

Aiko shrugged it off. “If it’s funds that you need, I can do that. I don’t care about the money. Actually…” She turned her head to change the angle she watched him from. “You only want it for your takeover in Mist, right?”

He froze.

Utakata was still and stiff against her side.

Aiko rolled her eyes, hoping desperately that she didn’t have to justify this because she had no explanation for it. “Oh come on. Do I really have to explain how that is obvious?” She inserted as much condescension as possible into her voice.

Zabuza nodded stiffly. “I suppose it is rather obvious.”

“Wildly apparent,” Utakata agreed.

'Is it actually obvious to them? Or are they just saying that so they don’t risk looking stupid?’

“Anyway.” Aiko physically waved away the thought. “I think it’s a great idea, to be honest.”

She received double unimpressed stares.

“It’s you or Mei,” Aiko explained. “And Mei probably remembers that I killed her hunter-nin partner. And a bunch of other hunter nin.” She frowned at her hand. “And that I was accused of attempting to assassinate the Mizukage. And maybe all the property damage in Mist, what with the cabbage. Or was it a fruit? It’s been a while, but I definitely remember a cart-”

“Enough,” Zabuza interrupted in a strained tone. “I think that I have heard enough.”

“Oh, no.” Utakata leaned back, eyes glittering. “Do go on. I don’t think that Zabuza-san properly understands what an ally he has made. Let us hear about your confrontation with the green Konoha nin.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “I’m a shinobi,” she argued patiently. “Of course I cheated.”

“And left me there,” Utakata recounted dolefully.

He was still sore about that?

She threw her hands up. “I eventually remembered!”

Zabuza sighed heavily.

“Do not worry,” Utakata continued, the left corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “She will be able to offer all sorts of invaluable assistance at a second’s notice. As you may have noticed-” he gestured politely at the restaurant around them. “We are no longer anywhere within Wave Country. That was no shunshin, Zabuza-san.”

The older nin looked like he might be about to stand up and leave, food be damned. So Aiko reached out and put her fingers on Utakata’s arm.

He fell silent instantly. Like magic. She gave him a mildly surprised look, but tried not to seem too taken aback.

Zabuza had most definitely noticed. His eyes were lingering on the point where her fingertips rested on her companion’s sleeves. Then he looked up into her face. He was reassessing.

“I am not entirely opposed to your suggestion,” the nukenin rumbled.

Aiko felt herself smile.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

In which it is made clear that Obito could stand to work on his communication skills, and Aiko is realizes that she causes a bit of trouble sometimes. Mei is  considering the many benefits of assassination.

Excerpt:

…

It just wasn’t a thing anyone planned for. What lunatic would anticipate being attacked by themself?

Hmm.

Obito frowned. He made a mental note to come up with a plan to counter his own techniques. Like, soon. Sure, getting dragged back to his own past had only happened to him once, but that was still a significant statistical increase over the likelihood he would have assigned the possibility before.

‘Fall into my past once, shame on Aiko. Do it again…’

Still probably Aiko’s fault, actually.

(The night prior)

Sometimes, Aiko was a really frustrating person, Obito ruminated.

“I mean, I did literally say that I didn’t come to fight.” He crossed his arms, feeling a scowl coming on. “I was friendly. I said hi.”

The jinchuuriki that she’d brought with her rippled, open-mouthed screaming at the three-tails. He was quickly losing form, skin bubbling out into oozing red sores that popped into soft, demonic flesh.

And honestly, it was insulting that Aiko would trust him before Obito. That stupid kid had lost it when confronted with another jinchuuriki. He’d struck at Aiko. What kind of ally was that?

He considered that for a moment. Then he peered over the roof a bit nervously, just to make sure Aiko wasn’t standing behind him or anything.

Well. Okay. Maybe there was a reason or two that Aiko could be a bit grumpy with him still, even if they really should just call it even at this point. Yeah, yeah, he wasn’t perfect but- but he’d never stuck his fingers in someone else’s eyes. Petty. She was so petty.

'Is she still pissed about her eyes?’

Obito squirmed guiltily. He, uh. Was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t going to find Zetsu had stored them away somewhere. So he probably couldn’t manage an apology bouquet complete with her original body parts- his best idea so far. That was about as far as he’d gotten with unpacking that bothersome business.

Fine! He admitted it, that had been kinda rude on his part. He was sorry. With some time and distance and a little bit of medication and a lot of counseling, yes. He recognized that had been not okay. He was really sorry. But…

'I want my friend back.’

Judging by the way all the color had bled out of her face when she’d seen him, maybe waiting around for her to show up hadn’t been the best idea. He’d been confused, okay? Disoriented. Out of sorts. He’d been pretending not to sense Bakashi waiting uncomfortably outside the clinic room on one of his super uncomfortable late night 'Is Obito really here?’ panic runs. And then he’d been standing? In Mist? The air on his face was damp and he could smell heavy salt. All he’d heard had been sharp breath and felt chakra swelling and then Aiko’d spoken up-

'She’s so rude,’ Obito remembered fondly.

She’d had the audacity to be indignant that reality hadn’t done what she’d told it to. This was definitely her fault, there was no doubt in his mind. He’d paused, torn between the urge to hide and the desire to follow after the most familiar person in this madhouse.

He could have followed the inevitable clattering cacophony and outrage that followed Aiko wherever she went. Probably.

But he’d felt his own chakra. He’d sensed himself. It was the creepiest, most fucked-up feeling he’d ever encountered, and he never wanted to experience it again.

It wasn’t a dream. Not a memory. Not a hallucination. He was feeling his own chakra, twisted and angry in ways that he didn’t remember. He’d felt like that? He’d been in that place?

How much damage had he caused? He was like a rabid animal. He’d hurt so many people, and killed sensei and poor Kushina-san and so many people, just for nothing, for nothing because the perfect world was never going to happen and-

Obito hated the man that he was. He hated the man that he’d been more.

It was a stupid idea. He’d been on forced inactivity for two years. Only in the last months had he been allowed to do more than mindless physical drills, only four months back his chakra had been unsealed as a concession to good behavior and noted improvement from that frightening psychiatrist woman.

But. You know. No one really expected that their older self would step up behind them using a jutsu that no one else had ever used and-

It just wasn’t a thing anyone planned for. What lunatic would anticipate being attacked by themself?

Hmm.

Obito frowned. He made a mental note to come up with a plan to counter his own techniques. Like, soon. Sure, getting dragged back to his own past had only happened to him once, but that was still a significant statistical increase over the likelihood he would have assigned the possibility before.

'Fall into my past once, shame on Aiko. Do it again…’

Still probably Aiko’s fault, actually. Now that he thought about it, it was really only surprising that this had only happened to her one time. Sure, she seemed to have some kind of intuitive knack for interdimensional fuinjutu, but, that didn’t really inspire confidence in her tendency to improvise.

'I should get her in some kind of tutoring. Is there an after school program like that?’

Speaking of Aiko, what was she- Obito squinted the one eye that he had, blithely looking past the hell that the two bijuu were unleashing on each other. Twits. He’d just wanted Yagura to keep the chumps Aiko’d brought out of the way so that they could talk. It was embarrassing how things had escalated, really.

Oh. He squeezed his eye shut, chewing over this development. That was her plan, huh? What a weird kid. It was just Mist. And it’d been an accident anyway, they could sort it out. Was Aiko really trying to take control of the situation? Why would-

salt brine roiled out of Rin’s open mouth, spilling down her chin to mix with foamy flecks of her own blood and small glistening lumps of something he couldn’t identify. Her shoulder blades felt so small in his hands, her body cold from the sea and-

Obito shuddered the memory away. He swallowed. He breathed in deeply, remembering where he was. He was now. That was then. Back. Ago. Unchangeable. Aiko wasn’t Rin and the three-tails wasn’t cursed and Bakashi wasn’t even here right now for things to be his fault.

He fisted a handful of his hair and dug in sharp, jolting breaths through his nose.

He couldn’t do this right now. He couldn’t talk to her now. She was busy, he’d come back later, he’d try again a little differently and she’d take a minute to listen to him and she’d realize that he was right, that he needed her to work with him right now. She’d understand. There was so much to do. There was so much set in motion that she’d hate too.

After all, she was here, wasn’t she? Not in Konoha. It made sense. Aiko had family, friends. It would be significantly harder to replace yourself if anyone was around to know or care. Aiko had to have realized that things were better off if she stayed out of Konoha, away from her little self.

It would have been helpful if she hadn’t exposed herself to Akatsuki as an enemy. There went his five best plans about how to get rid of them. But…

'We’ll figure something out.’

Present

She looked out into the dimly lit coast town and realized that coming there was a mistake. An extra stop to equip herself just wasn’t worth it.

Aiko looked down at her bare feet. She felt naked, exposed, unarmored. She was in her underwear, with dried ink crackling over her stomach and hipbones.

'It doesn’t matter right now. For all I know, Utakata’s dead. I know a lot of people died. I need to know what happened.’

She swallowed. She went to wrap her arms around her chest and then thought better of it, pushing her shoulders back. Aiko took a steadying breath that quietened most of the trembling. And she went.

Her geography had never been the most accurate, unfortunately. Without the seal on the Mizukage to use as a precise guide, she found herself on a remote stretch of Mizugakure’s outlying islands overlooking a rocky beach. She blinked at the patched, dingy boat tied up at a log. She tried again. This time, she found herself on the incline of an impact crater, less than a foot away from a mangled, stinking pile impacted into the ground that had probably been a person before a bijuu had stepped on them. It was hard to tell more than that in the dim light afforded by a half moon.

Aiko didn’t let herself look away too soon. She looked until she thought she could remember the way it looked, the spill of blood and crushed flesh and the splintered rib bone curving in a ghastly, eyeless smile on the canvas of the dirt.

'I did this. I saw Mist after Mei’s takeover, and this hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t been so cocky, this person would be alive.’

She was hailed down before she reached the top of the crater, by a hard-eyed man with hollowed cheeks and a broad jawline. He reached down to help her out. It wasn’t necessary, but she took his hand and let him haul her to the lip of the hole.

He let go as soon as she was on her feet, freeing his hands to unwind a length of bandage from his arm. He tossed it to her, politely looking no lower than her jaw. “Have you checked in yet?”

She took the bandage and used it as a hasty chest wrap, because it was a nice offer even if modesty was low on her priorities. When she was done tying the end, Aiko pressed her lips together and shook her head. It took a second try to speak over the dryness in her mouth. “What happened to Utakata?”

Now, he looked at her critically, gaze traveling up and down to check her lack of gear and state of general disarray. “You’re looking for the jinchuuriki.”

She honestly did not know what that lack of inflection signified. So she nodded.

They stood for a moment before he seemed to make a decision, jaw working silently. “I’ll take you there.” He lead her to an intact building, but stopped at the lobby. “I need to continue to look for survivors. You’ll have to take it from here.”

Aiko nodded. It felt like she’d been doing that a lot. Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t gotten her guide’s name. She cleared her throat. “Thank you…”

He gave a perfunctory nod that was not quite a bow. “Noguchi Hiro.”

“Noguchi-san,” Aiko repeated, holding the name in her memory. “Uzumaki Aiko. Good luck.”

In she went. The power was out, but the main hallway was marked with a trail of far-flung candles, not enough for any reading, but adequate for marking a path. Before too long, she heard voices.

Familiar voices.

Her hand actually shook as she slid aside the door. Utakata looked exhausted, hair unusually lank and dark circles ringing his eyes. The moonlight coming in the window revealed that Mei didn’t look much better. Her left arm was bleeding through a sling.

Relief hit Aiko. It felt more like being doused in cold water than muscles relaxing, but she felt her limbs tremble and sink as the adrenaline cut off.

“Aiko.” Utakata stood, eyes wide.

Her head hurt like she might cry. She blinked instead, forcing it down. “Utakata.” Thank god.

Mei might have looked sullen if she were less exhausted. “Uzumaki, is it? Sit down. I don’t have the stomach for watching you make eyes at each other right now.” She gestured at a cushion with her injured elbow without even wincing.

Aiko sat seiza, folding her numb legs under her body.

Utakata looked down at her, and then glanced away quickly. His jaw twitched. Then he reached for the fabric sash fastening his under-robe shut.

“Don’t bother.” Aiko waved him off. She managed a smile. Or, at least, she pulled up the sides of her mouth. “You can’t trust me with your clothes. I don’t know what happened to the robe I borrowed earlier. You’ll end up naked if you keep that up.”

Mei huffed. She gave Aiko a very deliberate once-over. “I suppose you might be the expert on that.”

Just maybe.

Aiko swallowed again and tried to summon some moisture in her mouth. It was so dry that her tongue hurt. She wondered how long she’d been laying in Suna’s deserts before a patrol had picked her up. “I saw that people are searching. Are you two taking a break?”

No one answered for a moment. Then Utakata lifted one shoulder elegantly, trying to summon up the nonchalance that usually seemed so natural to him. “Terumi-san has recently completed a shift moving rubble. She has kindly decided to spend her break time keeping me company, for the continued comfort of concerned citizens.”

Tired as she was, it took way too long for Aiko to parse that. “Mei-san has chakra exhaustion and you’re basically under arrest?” she summarized bluntly.

Utakata gave her a half-hearted dirty look, but deigned to nod along with Mei. He finally sank to a seat again.

“Right.” Aiko rubbed her palms against her thighs. “Who’s… who’s in charge?” She glanced between them. “The Mizukage is definitely dead, right?”

Stupid question. Of course he was. She had his bijuu.

“Yagura is dead,” Mei confirmed flatly. “What did you do with the Sanbi?”

Aiko lifted a hand and touched her fingers to the seal on her gut.

The older kunoichi’s expression tightened. “Of course.”

When she didn’t say anything, Utakata cleared his throat. “As for the matter of leadership… That has yet to be resolved.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Mei. “There is a noticeable dearth of suitable candidates.”

But… the answer was so obvious.

Aiko tucked her fingers under her knees. “I see two S-class Mist nin right now. One of you should do it.” She looked right at Mei as she said that to drive her point home. “I thought that you wanted it.”

Mei gave her a look of pure hatred that shook Aiko back a little. “I am widely opined to have failed in my capacity as the captain of the hunter-nin division. I’m afraid that I lost the public’s trust in my capability to protect my own. No one would support my ascension to more responsibility after a catastrophic failure such as being the only survivor of four teams.”

'Oh. Right. How many people did Utakata and I kill that day?’

She didn’t even remember. If Aiko had to put a number on it, she’s say it was definitely more elite operatives than you could lose without accusations being pointed at the leadership involved.

“Politically, her career is over.” Utakata philosophically ignored the look Mei turned on him. “However, I must also remind you that losing control of my bijuu and transforming in the village center inspired no confidence in my abilities. If the new Mizukage does not simply prefer to execute me, I will face court-martial.”

Aiko blinked and responded without thinking. “Or you could run away.”

There was an ugly silence. Utakata was tired and far older than he had any right to. Mei gritted her teeth, looking at Aiko with utter revulsion.

'That… I can’t believe that was my first thought. That it was okay to run from the consequences. I fucked up just like he did and caused so much harm, even if it wasn’t me who killed anyone. I’m not… I’m not the kind of person who runs away from that. I’m not.’

She swallowed. “Sorry.”

Utakata inclined his head, accepting the apology with some grace. “Your return presents… a possibility.”

Wait, what?

Mei picked up where he had left. “No one knows what happened, but you were seen.” Her lips were pale. “There has been talk of identifying the person who sealed the three-tailed bijuu, which is what I can only assume to have happened when it suddenly disappeared from the field of battle.” She eyed the ink on Aiko’s skin. “And now you have the bijuu. You are unknown, but that power is as respected as it is feared. The people would accept you.”

What. Aiko stared, mouth slightly open.

Mei gave a small sound of disgust and turned away.

Aiko startled back to her senses enough to point out- “I’m not a mist-nin.” That was kind of important.

“It is easier to believe that an unknown from the hunter squads is being put forward as a candidate than an outsider.” Utakata’s smile twisted wryly. “The idea is self-evidently mad. Terumi-san can corroborate the story.”

“Besides, who capable of contesting that cover would be stupid enough to say anything?” Mei added. She huffed. “No one wants to be the village without a jinchuuriki. Now that one has returned, it would be pure foolishness to drive away the other. Giving you a position binds the ostensibly stable jinchuuriki to the village.”

Her head was spinning. It was too much. This wasn’t her home, this wasn’t her village. She had to get back into Konoha- she was working on a plan to get offered an invitation.

“There has to be someone else.” Aiko’s voice sounded strange. She didn’t quite feel like it belonged to her. “Mizugakure has powerful shinobi.”

“Dead or traitors,” Mei rejected. “The seven swordsmen are scattered. One apprentice remains, but he is not the caliber of shinobi that we need. Perhaps a strong candidate might return, but it would be unwise to wait and hope for the best.”

Mei was right. But no, no, no, she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“This situation is in addition to the risks inherent in a regime change.” Utakata sounded less confident than Mei did- this was theoretical knowledge for him.

He didn’t remember a change of Mizukage, did he? Mei would remember before Yagura’s reign. Aiko remembered the Godaime Hokage’s installation and the problems it had presented, both domestic and international.

People would think Mist was weak. They would see a target.

'And they’re right. Mist is weak, and lacking a strong kage makes the problem much worse.’

Mei’s eyes bored into Aiko, dark and unforgiving. “If a candidate is not put forward, unrest will develop. We cannot afford to be internally divided.” Her hands curled into fists on her lap. “You have caused this. You must fix it.”

Utakata gave Mei a sidelong look, but he didn’t disagree. He didn’t disagree because Mei was correct, and it would be stupid to deny it.

She’d done this to them. She’d set off the chain of events that unleashed two bijuu on a city center. She’d ruined Mei’s career and prevented her from being the savior Mist’s people needed. She’d led Utakata into a situation he didn’t want, and he was going to face the consequences.

'It’s not even the first time that I accidentally set bijuu on someone else’s country. I never even apologized for that, much less faced the consequences. I just… I just moved on with my life, tried to re-integrate into Konoha. Is that the person that I am?’

The guilt sat in her stomach like she’d eaten rocks.

'I’ll never be able to go home to Konoha. They’ll never trust me. They shouldn’t.’

Aiko felt like crying. She closed her eyes, but this time she let it seep through her lashes. “I’ll do it.”

“Finally.” Mei stood, steadying herself with her good hand when she swayed on her feet. The kunoichi gritted her teeth and exhaled slowly. She was clearly forcing down pain. She had other injuries. Broken ribs? After a moment, Mei continued as though she’d never stopped. “We’ll have to find you some clothes. I’ll see what I can do about gathering upper level shinobi to swear you in and witness. The rest will fall in line, once everything has been passed around and you’ve been see. Where you would like-”

“I don’t need to get cleaned up.” Aiko stood too. “Where are the bodies being brought? That’s where we’ll meet.”

“What?” Mei gave her an odd look, but Utakata was shaking his head.

“Absolutely not!” He rocketed to his feet, white teeth bared. “Have you forgotten last time?”

No. But. They shouldn’t be dead. It didn’t matter what had happened last time, because this wasn’t a whim. She had to do it. Aiko couldn’t quite manage to find the energy to explain why this was important, so she just looked at him.

Utakata faltered. A muscle twitched in his neck. Then he looked away.

That was answer enough. Aiko swallowed. “I’ll need something to drink before I go. And I’ll need a few minutes to contact- to try to contact the Sanbi.”

On her own, she didn’t know how far her chakra would get her. Mist’s dead were a lot fresher than Zabuza had been, or anyone else she’d raised. Hopefully she could do it. But borrowing chakra could only help.

“Uzumaki?” Mei sounded cautious. “What are you planning?”

“You’re right. This is my responsibility.” Her feet felt like lead, but she kept moving towards the next candle in the darkness. “I owe Mizugakure my service. I prefer to make my case through action.”

Unnatural, sick and wrong action that she hated, but she owed them. She did. She’d do it for them. She reached deep down, clutching at the chakra shielding her gut. She knew this seal. Jiraiya had explained his reasoning to her and forced her to practice it until she understood the consequences as well as he did. Once she contacted the Sanbi, the connection would go two ways. She would hear its voice.

The thought gave her a shiver, a cold rush up her spine. She remembered encountering it when she’d sealed it into that Mist chuunin. Or was he a genin? She didn’t even remember his name, anymore. It had been a long time ago.

But she remembered how it had felt to brush up against that alien intelligence. She remembered desperation and fear so potent that it might have been hers, all sunk to mingle in a pool of bleak, hopeless despair. She’d be opening herself up to that. Permanently. She wouldn’t be able to get away.

'Sanbi-san? I need to talk to you.’

The world dropped out. She had no feet to catch her, no hands to steady herself with or channel chakra to escape. It was just her and the turtle demon.

It was crying out of the one visible eye, but there was no sadness otherwise visible. Its beak was sullenly impassive, a hard line.

She realized that impression was stupid a moment later. A turtle’s face didn’t move like a human’s did. That didn’t mean there was no sign of misery on the Sanbi’s face. It just meant that she couldn’t interpret it.

“Jailor.”

Aiko winced. “I’m sorry.” It was inadequate, but it was all that she had. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to come prepared with a seal, tip me on my back, and eat me?”

It did sound like a flimsy defense when it was summed up that way.

“I couldn’t let you hurt anyone else.” She swallowed. Her mouth was dry even here. That was unfair, she didn’t even have a mouth. “I hadn’t planned to have to seal you. I didn’t realize that the Mizuage-” Aiko paused. “I don’t even know what happened, actually. Why you took over his body. I didn’t know that could happen that way.”

The Sanbi lashed its tails against the ground. “His,” it corrected peevishly. “His tail.”

Wait, what?

“The shared perception goes both ways. Stop referring to me like I’m a tree.”

Oh. Right. That was fair. Aiko nodded. “Sorry. Sanbi-san. Is that okay to say?”

“It’s terrible. But for now, it will do.” He turned away, claws digging into the blackness around them.

Aiko shuddered, feeling the movement like a gouge actually inside her gut. Wait. How was that- was that normal? It- he, he could hurt her from inside her?

“Why are you here?”

Right. Focus. “I need to use some of your chakra.”

The Sanbi eyed her suspiciously. “How much?”

She had to admit she wasn’t sure. “I’m… I’m going to try to revive everyone who you and my friend killed last night. If not, as many as I can.”

He gave her a long look. “Humans can’t do that.”

Aiko thought of turning her Rinnegan on to show him- but that didn’t make sense. She wasn’t in her body, she was in her body. She couldn’t show him right now.

“Rinnegan?” Sanbi asked sharply.

Oh, right. He heard her thoughts, didn’t he.

“Where did you get-” He sucked in a breath and paused, interpreting the information that her mind pulled up without trying. Obito, Pein, betrayal and releasing three bijuu and being rescued by Naruto and Kakashi- “I know that human.”

What? Which-

“Two.” The Sanbi settled down, tucking his legs underneath his shell like a comfortable cat might sit on his paws. “The Uchiha. He came for me. He changed me, and he changed my jailor. I also know the pale human.”

That didn’t really-

“The one with the lightning hand,” Sanbi elaborated impatiently. It seemed displeased with how slow she was- agh, she’d did it again, he, he, he, not it. “That one- Kakashi? Kakashi killed one of my previous jailors.” His tails lashed again, but this time it seemed more thoughtful than angry. “She was perhaps a host and not a jailor,” Sanbi amended. “She was… not willing.”

There was something ugly and familiar about that scenario. A female jinchuuriki that Kakashi had killed. It seemed plausible enough- but the detail that she was an unwilling host let the hairs up on Aiko’s neck. That didn’t sound like a mist-nin.

“I believe Kakashi was a nestmate.” Sanbi seemed to be working hard to remember. “It has been a very long time, and our partnership was brief. I, too, was not at my best. That was another…” He started again. “The seal was particularly provocative on that occasion.”

“Nestmate?” Aiko felt a headache coming on. That sounded like a sibling, but Kakashi hadn’t had any siblings. She was pretty sure. Who else would be close enough that-

Oh.

'It’s a good thing I gave up on Konoha. It’ll be a miracle if he can stand to look at me now.’

“That’s rude!”

Aiko waved that off. “It’s not you. Not really. He blames himself for killing her.”

The Sanbi was quiet for a moment, as if he was considering the extenuating circumstances and ramifications. “He did kill her.” He sounded mildly bemused that this could be debated.

Well. Fair enough, she supposed. In the literal sense.

What other sense is there?

“I’m not sure, exactly,” Aiko replied before realizing that she hadn’t heard the question aloud. She froze. Then- no. No, she wasn’t going to worry about it. The rules didn’t apply here.

“You may not be the most foolish human I have encountered.” Sanbi sighed. “Do as you will. I cannot stop you from taking my chakra. You must know this.”

“I know.” Aiko rubbed at her eye. Wait- was that her real body she was moving? She stopped, because the sensation was too confusing. “I won’t do that to you. It’s wrong. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I couldn’t think of another solution, but that doesn’t make it right.”

She thought the Sanbi might have been touched. He seemed to waver for a moment. When he spoke, he sounded a little teary. “I… appreciate that.” He cleared his throat. “In that case… No. No, you may not use my chakra.”

But she needed it!

Aiko physically bit her tongue to keep from protesting like a child. Couldn’t he see it was urgent? Lives were at stake. She owed Mizugakure to do as much as she could.

'Operative word there being 'me’. I owe them. Sanbi doesn’t owe them or me.’

It took a long moment to master herself.

'It’s not his fault that I got them killed. It’s not his fault that Obito and Yagura used him like that. I can’t- I can’t abuse him to fix my mistakes. I am- I have to be better than that.’

Slowly, shakily, she nodded. “Right. I need to go.”

And she was back in her body, slumped against the wall with blood dribbling out her mouth from the bite in her tongue. Utakata was kneeling over her, checking at her pulse.

Wearily, she pushed him away. “I’m fine.”

When the words came out garbled and wet, Aiko paused. She swallowed blood, hot and metallic. It slid unhappily down her throat, but her voice sounded better when she tried again.

“How long was I out?”

Utakata ignored her protests and helped her stand, only letting go reluctantly. “Minutes. Terumi-san has gone ahead to make preparations.” He swallowed visibly, looking away. “Did you- I assume that you made contact?”

Made contact. Yeah. Aiko nodded, before she remembered he wasn’t looking. “We had a talk.”

He made a small, relieved sound. “Ah. It is good to know.”

Aiko glanced at his face in profile. She decided she didn’t have the heart to tell him. He’d only worry.

Chapter 13

She’d expected a morgue. Stupidly, perhaps, considering the scale of destruction. Kirigakure shinobi were piling the bodies in a spot on the outskirts of town near the crematorium.

‘That’s efficient, but still depressing. Sounds exactly like Kiri at its best, I guess.’

Aiko moved a little faster, and hoped that the smoke coming out of the building was just from warming up the ovens and not evidence that they’d already started. She was… She was nervous about this. She had a lot, but she didn’t know how far her chakra would go.

'I wish Sanbi-san had agreed to help.’

The grizzled civilian woman who was directing things looked up from her attempts to label bodies. She scowled at Aiko’s questions, but must have decided that it wasn’t worth arguing with the type of person who showed up to interrogate someone in her underpants.

“We’ve just gotten started,” the old woman said flatly. “It takes time to heat up, and it is preferable to be able to contact survivors or at least know who we are burning.”

“So, how many have you burned?” Aiko pressed. She finished her coffee and passed it off to Utakata wordlessly.

“Three, so far.” The woman scowled up at her. “Now, go away. I have work to do. There are too many bodies to waste time talking. I must work, or we will all be breathing in corpse rot. Rubble will be the least of our problems if we allow such sickness in the village.”

“Good point, stop working on it anyway.” Aiko swallowed, ignoring the indignant reply. Three. She… She’d leave those for last. She didn’t know if she’d have the energy for them. It was better to save as many people as possible, right?

Every way that she considered it seemed highly unethical. She didn’t think she could save everyone. She wanted to, but she didn’t think it was possible. How could she choose who should live?

'Honestly, I should be strategic about it. Get profiles, give preferential treatment to upper level shinobi and more valuable citizens.’

It seemed the most intelligent option. But that would waste time. In trying to optimize the aid, she would actually sabotage her efforts. Besides, it would… it would be really shitty to choose some people as more valuable than others.

So. Whoever she saw first, really. Possibly whoever was least damaged, so as to save her energy to help as many as possible. Luck of the draw, as it were.

Mind whirring, Aiko ignored the protestations and strode into the furthest section, where bodies had first been laid. She took a moment to glance back at her audience. Mei stopped, arms folded, and stayed back a distance. The gaggle of jounin she’d found were looking rather unimpressed at being called away from their work to watch a half-naked madwoman poke around corpses, but Aiko paid them no mind.

Utakata seemed most nervous. It might have been for her sake, or it might have been because of the black stares he was getting. He stood closest to her, but pressed his back against the fence border in what she recognized as an attempt to make sure she had room to conduct her summoning.

'Right. I should start.’

She clapped her hands together, and was a half second from beginning when a young jounin stepped forward. “So you’re the new jinchuuriki?” he pressed. Aiko stiffened at the pointed once-over he gave her, skimming deliberately over the seal on her stomach. “I don’t know your face. Why would we want a stranger to be our leader?”

'He’s willing to point that out before Mei calls a vote?’ Aiko paused. 'That one’s not a total idiot. I should remember his face for later.’

She considered lying. Mei and Utakata had suggested it. It would smooth the transition.

'On the other hand, if they categorically refuse me, they might accept Mei. Better a failed Kiri nin than a triumphant foreigner, I would think.’

“No,” Aiko said finally. “You don’t know me because I’m not a Kiri nin. I’m an Uzumaki.”

Mei didn’t quite grit her teeth, but the sentiment was there.

The way the audience reacted to that was odd. Aiko had expected outrage. Derision, perhaps, or even disbelief that anyone would put forward such a ridiculous candidate. That was mostly how she felt, after all.

Most of the on-lookers had very purposeful lacks of reaction. The young man who had been questioning her looked shocked when her words seemed to register- maybe a little fearful.

'Wonder what he thought I meant. I can’t quite tell what that reaction was.’

Just for the hell of it, she flickered the Rinnegan on without looking away and watched him recoil. But she didn’t want to use that for longer than necessary so she quickly turned away, pulling her teeth across her palm for the blood sacrifice. By the time it dripped, her fingers already working through familiar seals. She slammed her palms into the ground and-

someone screamed. A civilian, possibly. She’d forgotten they were around. Aiko swallowed, not breaking eye contact with the death god as he grew up, up, up. He had emerged higher than she’d seen before. Not only his head and neck were above ground, but she could see his shoulders and half of his torso.

'What does that mean? Does he come up further every time that I summon him?’

She didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t really want to know. It didn’t seem like it would mean anything good.

'Doing this with an audience is weird. I’ve only ever done this in front of… Actually, in front of Utakata both times. He doesn’t count.’

“Good morning, kami-sama. Normally, I’d use names.” Aiko gestured at the area around them, feeling a little stupid but trying to keep it off her face. She didn’t look at anyone but the death god. “You don’t need them, though, do you? I want these people back. As many of them as my chakra can buy.”

His eyes bled purple, filling the white spaces between the concentric rings in his eyes. She couldn’t breathe, she was inhaling but there was no air and the sky was shockingly vivid.

Someone gasped. She heard what sounded suspiciously like a weapon being drawn, but nothing came of it.

Aiko swallowed. Her head was spinning. The world was too bright and she was having an enormously difficult time keeping her eyes open. She must have lost several seconds there- dead people were sitting up and making questioning sounds, or staring as the late-bloomers began to breathe. A child on the ground was growing skin. The enormous man who had been shoved in the corner looked even bigger when a new bone shot out of his shoulder joint, jostling his neighbor. She blinked and focused on that. It was like what had happened to Fuu. The bone came first, then veins and cartilage sprouted. Muscle bled into place in the gaps and then grew over before changing consistency into adipose tissue and finally dermis.

She turned back to the death god. He was regarding her, sullen and implacable as ever. Aiko pressed her hands into her thighs and managed a decent bow. Somehow, she straightened without falling.

The death god might have given the slightest tilt of his head before he dematerialized.

Kirigakure was quiet. She surveyed the area. Almost all of the corpses were breathing now. Some were on their feet clinging to each other. Others were in what seemed to be a deep, healing sleep.

She counted four. Four people who still weren’t moving.

'I failed.’

Plus the ones who had already been cremated. That was… There was no possible way. It would take days before her chakra returned to even half strength. By that point, all the bodies would be in such a poor state that it would be a struggle to restore even one.

And what about Zabuza? She hadn’t even heard what had happened to his body. Probably nothing good.

'People are going to resent me for this. It seems unfair. It is unfair.’

There was a scuffling sound behind her. Wearily, Aiko turned.

The jounin who had questioned her was pale as marble and trembling. The sound she’d heard had been his knees hitting the ground. The others were following suit, but the person who stuck out was Mei.

Mei’s mouth worked silently. She swallowed it quickly, but for a second she looked absolutely furious. The woman who should have been Mizukage faltered before she bowed. “Godaime-sama.”

She was sworn in there, with blood congealing against her left hand and the weight of failure on her shoulders. It didn’t seem real.

The rest of the day was a blur. There was screaming and crying when the formerly dead shinobi and civilians came stumbling out to help pull survivors from rubble and catalog damage. Word seemed to get around relatively fast, judging by the staring and whispers, but Aiko didn’t have time to linger on that. With Utakata’s help, she commandeered Yagura’s family home as a base of operations. She would have preferred to spend time helping people, but it was apparent that she needed to sit down before she lost consciousness.

The things that helped with chakra exhaustion- bedrest, a talented medical ninja, nutritious food- were in short supply or just plain unavailable. Resources had been scarce even before two bijuu had toppled part of town. With the dire situation, she couldn’t spare the time to lay down and sleep for a day, and Kiri’s medical experts were inexpert enough that Aiko might not have visited them even if they weren’t over-busy.

'I’ll need to do something about that,’ she decided tiredly. 'It’s unacceptable. Konoha’s medical care is much better. We don’t have Tsunade, but we can be better than we are.’

Of course, other things were just as important. Housing had to be completed immediately. Businesses needed to be restored and staffed- something must be done about the food shortages, post-haste. They desperately needed an influx to the population- they needed civilians even more than they needed shinobi. And the Academy system would need to be re-designed from the ground up. There was no trust in the institution, which was probably why the enrollment numbers that Aiko found were so pitiful.

Kirigakure was being crushed under its own weight. It was a wonder that this wasn’t common knowledge. How had Mei done what she’d done without letting on to their internal weakness?

'It took her years to gain healthy self-sufficiency. That’s probably why she had so many dissidents. No matter what she solved, the other issues were just as pressing.’

What to prioritize? What could help the village cling to life while other improvements were in the works?

'Food,’ Aiko decided. 'Food and social welfare. I can’t rule over a city where people are starving in the streets.’

In the long term, Kirigakure needed to revitalize the seaweed gathering and fishing industry that had historically been their lifeblood, and restore trade for the many products that were not viable to produce internally. In the short term- they desperately needed an infusion of life-sustaining trade. Pity they didn’t have the money to buy it.

'I’m getting off topic.’ She fisted her hands in her hair and breathed deeply through her nose. She needed to focus. It was- that was hard, when all her body wanted to do was refill and rest.

It would probably help if she deactivated the Rinnegan.

Aiko stifled a snort at her own expense. Chakra exhaustion made her rather slow on the uptake, it seemed. Luckily, no one else was in the room at moment. “I’m such a bonehead,” she mumbled. “No wonder I feel just as bad as I did then.” She closed her eyes to shut off the Rinnegan chakra feed, and then opened them.

She froze.

In her mind, Aiko knew perfectly well that it was around noon. The sun was high overhead, and painting licks of heat across her shoulders from the open window. But the room was nearly pitch black. When she focused, she could see the papers that she had been reading. And by that, she meant that she could see white blobs with dark blurs of text.

'So that’s not great.’

Things continued to be not great.

Once all the work for the day was done and she was finally alone, Aiko turned the Rinnegan off again and laid in the dark. It was night. She wouldn’t have been able to see anyway. And yet, it was terrifying. She felt nauseous. She felt tempted to turn the Rinnegan back on, even as she slept.

'No. That’s stupid. I’ll regenerate chakra much faster without it.’

It wouldn’t matter when she was asleep. It wouldn’t matter once she was asleep. Aiko repeated that like a mantra until she did drift off. It was an uneasy sleep, punctuated by several brief periods of waking. She didn’t know if it was day or night- so every time, she used the Rinnegan. It was still dark.

When the sun finally did rouse her, she knew it. The room had warmed and she could hear gulls.

“We need a solution.” The chuunin administrative assistant put her hands on her lap to keep from fidgeting with the paper splayed out. “The numbers suggest that we will have to switch to half-rations sooner than later, unless you wish to re-open the borders.”

Aiko pressed her lips into a thin line.

That was… not ideal. They desperately needed an influx of trade, yes. But the longer it could be put off, the better. Mist didn’t have strong allies, and she was weak- another village could easily try to get rid of competition, or to make a name for themselves by crushing one of the major centers of power. The normal, common-sense thing to do would be to appeal to the Daimyo.

Pity that Yagura had murdered him and his household. The islands were only subject to the Mizukage, now. There was no one to go to for help. Any appeal to another nation would come at great risk, and it would not come cheaply. Since Mizugakure was unable to pay, she didn’t want to think about what concessions they might have to suffer.

“Godaime-sama, there are other matters regarding upcoming international events.” The chuunin paused for approval.

Aiko waved her on.

If it weren’t for the way the younger woman never looked near the Rinnegan, Aiko might have thought the chuunin was perfectly at ease.

'She did work for Yagura. Most of his staff probably have excellent poker faces.’

The woman nodded. “Your predecessor committed to sending one genin team to the chuunin examinations being held in Konoha. It will be difficult to withdraw without losing international standing. People will wonder why.”

Of course they would.

“We won’t withdraw,” Aiko confirmed distantly. Konoha. Whatever problems they might have, they’d never experienced widespread hunger in her lifetime. Fire country was blessed with more rich farmland than any other nation. They didn’t cultivate it all, of course, but they certainly used enough to keep their people fed and trade a significant portion.

'That would be the country I would look to, optimally. I don’t think it’s just my history biasing me, either. Under the Sandaime Hokage, Konoha is unlikely to commit to aggressive action. They’re less dangerous than the other powers, in that respect. And they’re prosperous.’

It was amazing, in a way, that Orochimaru had managed to convince Sand to turn against them at the invasion. They had become strong in twelve long years of peace. But perhaps Sand had been desperate- they were not rich in resources, either. It could be that they had seen the raid as worth the risk.

'It did work out for them, to be fair. Even after they committed to the invasion, Konoha forgave them because they needed the allies. They ended up getting plenty of assistance after the fact. That hospital exchange program, and trade, and…’

Her thoughts trailed off.

Oh, no. It was too terrible. Sand was a good ally for Konoha, in the end. Once Gaara straightened his head out, he became a temperate ruler and a powerful friend. Interfering with that would definitely harm Sand, and probably benefit Konoha less than Sand could.

'But I’m not looking out for Fire country, or for Sand. I’m looking out for Mist.’

And what Mist needed was exactly what Konoha had.

She knew up-front that it was unethical. But it was her job, wasn’it it? And it seemed remarkably viable. All she had to do was be in the right place at the right time.

Honestly… It should be simple.

Konoha would certainly prefer to ally with Mist than Sand, after the invasion. They had only turned back to the former ally the first time around out of desperation. How easily would the Hokage jump at a good-faith offer by someone who hadn’t recently colluded with Orochimaru?

With the kazekage dead, Suna would need that alliance desperately.

‘But that sounds suspiciously like someone else’s problem.’

“Saito-san,” Aiko said. The chuunin startled when she realized Aiko knew her name. “Tell me about the genin team going to Konoha.” She paused. “And their jounin sensei.”

Saito gave her an incredulous look.

It turned out to be a good thing that she wasn’t posing as a Mist-nin. A local would have known that genin cells under a jounin were not the default arrangement in Kiri. Mist still favored apprentice and master relationships to a larger degree than Konoha did.

'I should have realized,’ Aiko thought with some chagrin. ’All the Kiri nin whose educational history I know anything about were either an apprentice or had one.’

She didn’t know anything about Mei, of course. But Utakata, Zabuza, Haku, and Kisame had all come from that type of system. That seemed to indicate that was how things done in the upper echelons, for certain, and possibly on down throughout the system.

As she found out, apprenticeships were important precisely because they weren’t guaranteed. In order to catch the eye of a powerful sponsor, a genin had to be promising in some regard.

The team they were sending to Konoha was not considered promising. They were an all-male cell ranging from 16 to 19 years of age. They were certainly chuunin level shinobi, but that was matter-of-course: Kiri would not send anyone to represent them who seemed likely to fail.

'I don’t even remember them from the exams. They must not have performed well.’ Aiko frowned up at the teenagers in her home office, cataloging the features she could see behind aquatic breathing masks. Not water chakra types, then.

They seemed… Well. To be perfectly frank, they seemed terrified. But that was most likely attributable to the fact that Yagura was the only Mizukage who they had served.

'Also, I did release bijuu that tore up the administrative and business districts,’ Aiko thought fairly. 'That was three days ago. They probably remember.’

“I will be accompanying you to Konoha.”

That statement, however mildly delivered, caused the tallest genin to break out in a cold sweat.

Aiko somehow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That would probably be incredibly creepy with the Rinnegan. The awful, chakra-draining, headache-giving Rinnegan. The eyes that made her look like a total freak, but also allowed her to see.

“I will be acting in a capacity as your jounin sensei,in line with Konoha’s sensibilities.”

And at that, all three of them startled. Saito-san jerked as well, fingers white against her folders.

She did roll her eyes. “This is no longer about the Chuunin examinations. I have reason to believe that Sunagakure and a smaller village will be launching an attack on the event. Likely, at the culminating tournament. I expect at least one of you to make it through the elimination rounds to give us a reason to remain.” Aiko looked at them, one by one. “We can use this opportunity. Be aware that the change in Mizukage is classified information. You will give no one reason to suspect that leadership has transferred.”

Two of them nodded a little too enthusiastically. The last one couldn’t seem to look away. The whites around his eyes were showing.

'I suppose an invasion might be a little shocking. They are genin. They probably haven’t seen large-scale conflict.’

Because that made her feel a little bad, but mostly to seal the deal, Aiko sweetened the pot. “This mission is critical to Kirigakure’s continued survival. If you impress me, you can look forward to more than a promotion.”

And that was all it took.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Mist wasn’t happy to see her go. But there was very little comment, given that they were generally under the impression that she would only be gone for the time it took to escort the genin to the exams.

Mei and Utakata knew a little better, given that they would be the ones updating her on progress whenever she checked back in with Hiraishin to give new orders.

Aiko had generally little guilt. They wouldn’t miss her presence too much, now that Mist was still working on getting caught up with emergency measures and evaluating their resources and situation. Mist was a terribly lean beast these days- genin and even chuunin were spending much more time working with civilians to catch fish and gather seaweed, while jounin were caught up escorting merchant ships and containing anyone who left the boats to very strictly regulated areas that obscured the situation.

In terms of policy and government action, she couldn’t do much more at the moment except monitor the declining monetary resources, build food stores, and try to get people off the streets despite lacking in adequate facilities or the raw material to supplement them. They were hemorrhaging money with every day that they didn’t take more than the bare minimum of outside missions, but sending a team to the exams did save them some face internationally. There wasn’t much more they could do until they had some measure of stability and food security.

Anyway, she didn’t need to be in Kirigakure all day at the moment. Her inner circle was perfectly capable:

Utakata could use the time alone to mope about how he’d fallen in with disreputable company that had first made him a weapon against his home village, and then, far worse, committed the sin of forcing him back into gainful employment there.

Mei would find it was a prime opportunity to work on whatever seditious power-mongering she was undoubtedly working on for her inevitable attempt at a coup.

They’d be alright. She trusted they would entertain themselves well enough in her absence, even if work didn’t keep them busy.

If for no reason but her pride in the homeland she’d never be able to claim, Aiko was quietly pleased to confirm that Konoha was rather efficient. Her papers had been accepted at the first outpost on the border of Fire Country, official declarations and identifications studied and returned in short order. And why not- they were all legitimate, marked with the Mizukage’s seal of office and in perfect compliance with regulations.

At least, in compliance aside from the bit where she was a kage illegally operating within an ally’s borders. Whatever. Let’s not be petty about it.

The border guard had commented on the fact that the jounin escort for the team had been changed since the last communication, but he’d let her pass. She’d breathed a sigh of relief, but been mildly disappointed.

It was the second outpost that detained her team. Politely, of course- they were invited inside and separated. Aiko splayed her fingers in a lazy wave at her genin and followed the interrogator into a private room.

She had the distinct impression that she hadn’t been deemed top-priority just yet.

The room was plain- four walls bereft of privacy seals, one moderately reinforced window, and three wizened chairs whose cushions had seen much better days forty years ago. And the other woman was no one she recognized, despite wracking her brains for names in the appropriate age range . Sandy, light-brown hair threw her speculations off until the older woman pushed up her sunglasses to reveal familiar blue.

‘A Yamanaka. How uncomfortable.’

It figured. Well. At least she knew not to make eye contact.

“Uzumaki-san, is it? We just have a few questions for you, since the personnel change was so last-minute.” The Yamanaka pretended to consult Aiko`s papers, as if she might possibly be stupid enough not to realize Konoha had recognized her name and detained her on someone`s orders. “Is there a first name to go with that?”

She didn’t want to answer that, so she smiled pleasantly and went through the motions of an introduction that pointedly left out the information. The Yamanaka woman paused a moment before folding her hands and bowing in return, introducing herself as Honon. Just Honon- no family name.

Aiko was deeply, deeply tempted to show off what she knew by using the woman’s clan name. She somehow resisted.

“I have some questions, if you wouldn’t mind.” Honon moved further into the room and incidentally away from the window. She sank into a chair- and therefore, into shadow. To Aiko’s eyes, the older woman all but disappeared.

‘She’s letting me look down on her to control the way my eyes point and to make me feel more powerful,’ she decided, leaning against the wall. ‘At least for now, they want me to underestimate Konoha, or feel at ease.’

She didn’t think that would work. The psychological effect of that sort of maneuver was a bit hampered when the observer was half-blind.

In the end, they let her go after a few hours of polite questioning that she stonewalled with her impeccably manufactured credentials and artful misunderstandings of questions. By the end, Konoha seemed to be certain that she was legitimate- which she was, aside from the thing where she was actually committing a pretty big crime. But what Konoha didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Or her, more relevantly.

Konoha was probably too annoyed by her declaration as an asset of Kirigakure to wonder if she maybe was a secret kage. If the Sandaime had Uzumaki-snatching ambitions, they would be complicated by an existing affiliation to another great nation. But that wasn’t necessarily a death knell to the idea: countries did occasionally poach nin. You couldn’t do that to your closest allies, but if your countries were hostile enough that your obligations were reduced, really the only consequence would be the nin’s guaranteed spot on several bounty lists.

“Mi-Sensei?” Keisuke’s gaze darted nervously between her and the looming forest. Maybe he sensed their observers. She’d have to ask later. “Is everything alright?”

She considered reaching out and ruffling his hair, but it would have been suspicious if he’d involuntarily flinched. She was portraying his teacher, but they didn’t really have that kind of relationship yet.

“I’m walking on sunshine.” She winked at her students and gestured for them to walk ahead of her. “We’ve lost some time, let’s see if we can make our reservation. It’d be troublesome to have to explain to the Mizukage that we spent too much time admiring the beauties of Fire Country’s flora to get our deposit back.”

One of the boys made an uncomfortable, high-pitched giggle. They ran a little faster than she’d seen before.

‘Did that sound like a threat?’ Aiko wondered as she hung back, watching her pack. 'It was a joke. It was obviously a joke. It’s ironic, isn’t it? And it’ll give the wrong impression to Creeper McLurkface over there.’

If she wasn’t mistaken, their observer was a senior ANBU from one of the home-guard teams. Jackal, maybe? No one she’d worked with in a team, but she knew the man’s chakra well enough from time spent trading shifts on patrol and Hokage watch.

'Did they have to reassign shifts for the chuunin exams?’ Aiko wondered. ’It could be that he was on long patrols and got transferred to the short patrols about the time I entered the department. But it would make some sense that they had to pull back from international operations and stiffen up security within borders for this. They don’t know about Sand and Sound, but inviting hundreds of foreign nin into the country would put anyone on edge.’

By the beginning of sundown, her genin were breathing rapidly enough that it probably didn’t seem strange that she ordered a halt to set up camp as she became nearly blind. It took a little longer than it should have- she would have split the team on tasks, but there was no way to know who else was around. Perhaps Jackal would interfere if one of Mist’s enemies stumbled on a chance to reduce the competition; but perhaps he wouldn’t.

So she took them to the nearest of Konoha’s little rivers to fill up on water, and then trekked uphill to find a campsite clearing. The going was painfully slow- ostensibly for her weary genin’s benefit, but more because she couldn’t see the ground more than a foot or two in front of her feet. Her genin had unwound enough, or were tired enough, to forget to be intimidated.

“Sensei, we’re Mist-nin.” Ryuusei clicked his fingernails against his breathing apparatus pointedly, as if he thought the foreigner kage might have forgotten the august company she was honored by. “I’m not worried about camping near a river in Konoha.”

She considered educating him in the degree to which living on an island had not prepared him for flashfloods, but it would be a shame to shut them down too harshly when they were starting to relax around her. She settled for, “Humor me.”

They grumbled at that, but did what they were told. She stood back and squinted through her headache as they assembled camp- putting up tents, scratching out boundaries and traps, digging a latrine and firepit.

Considering that they would need to do this by themselves in a few days in hostile conditions, she wasn’t impressed with their performance. Honestly… “You’re way too slow,” Aiko critiqued. She put her hands on her hips. “Stop, this is disgraceful. Take those tents down and throw dirt over that pit. We’re trying again. Look alive this time. I want to eat eventually.” She paused, because the sun was nearly set, and it would be difficult to critique something she couldn’t see . “Leave the fire.”

There was just enough light for her to see that Yuusaku’s glare bordered on mutinous. He began shoveling dirt over the latrine with jerky movements that implied he might like to be burying her.

'Aww. It’s hard to be a baby genin. They’re so grumpy. Was I ever that grumpy?’

They did move faster the second time. It wasn’t an inspiring performance, but it made her a little less worried about the likelihood of them being ambushed in the ten whole minutes they were distracted setting up camp in the Forest of Death.

She opened her mouth to remind them of that- and then pretended to yawn instead.

'Right. I’m not supposed to know about that, and neither are they.’

With ANBU Jackal within hearing distance, it would be particularly foolish to give into the worry that made her want to triple-check that they remembered all her advice. Aiko drifted away in thoughts, tracing and re-tracing tired plans.

She felt absolutely no guilt about helping them cheat on this test. Her team wasn’t there to take a test, they had a more important mission that required that pass the exam. They needed to succeed not to prove themselves, but to give her legitimate reason to linger until the tournament. If they didn’t make it through the Forest of Death…. What would she even do? Escort them home, then hiraishin back to Konoha, steal an ANBU uniform, and try to go unnoticed?

Well.

Actually, she’d done unlikelier missions for pettier reasons.

Still.

It wasn’t the worst plan she’d ever come up with, but it would just be much better if they completed the exam.

To that end, she’d told them to stick it out through the paper exam and not risk cheating more than twice even if they had no answers correct-

“So I could just draw birds on my paper?” Yuusaku asked, bemused.

“No, you have to pretend to try.” Aiko rolled her eyes. “Otherwise they’ll know that you know the grades don’t matter. Answers first, birds second. Possibly cheat sometime in between if you have a good strategy.”

-and avoid the hell out of the Konoha teams, as well as Sand. She wanted them to do well, but it wasn’t worth tangling with Sand or- god forbid- Orochimaru. Sand was supposed to break the record in this examination, and she was fine with that. It had been a flashy move that had turned all eyes on them. She wouldn’t mind if her team was second, however.

The last thing she’d told them had been cautionary.

“Spark chakra against this seal if you need me,” Aiko had explained. She’d painted one onto different items in each genin’s equipment so that the pattern was less obvious. “That’s last resort, do you understand me? If I’m caught interfering, you’ll be disqualified. Don’t do this unless it looks like you’re about to die or be eliminated. If you call me, I’ll probably have to kill any witnesses, and it could cause trouble for my alibi depending on what I’m doing at the time. Besides,  there are some areas under live camera observation.”

…Hopefully they wouldn’t need her. She didn’t like knowing that she was going to abandon Sakura to Orochimaru’s mercies. The thought of actually killing genin didn’t sit well with her.

Agent Rabbit peeled away from his post once the woman and her genin were checked into the hotel, trusting that the short patrol would have the situation under control. The Hokage’s waiting room wasn’t empty, but he only had to wait for two teams before he was called in.

He knelt in the habitual position, not bothering to rehearse what he would say.

Sandaime-sama glanced at him once, and then pushed away from his desk. “Report.”

“Hokage-sama. Uzumaki does not appear to be especially suspicious at this time, but I recommend maintaining observation.”

“Oh?” The Sandaime tapped his pipe. “How did the questioning go? What kind of person is she?”

“Questioning was inconclusive,” Rabbit admitted. “Yamanaka-san believes she was recognized. The target refused eye contact and denied an opportunity for covert interrogation. Uzumaki appears amiable, but seems to be secretive and demanding upon further observation. She is also highly familiar with the local weather patterns. For example, she expressed concern about the possibility of a flash-flood and forced them to march further than necessary before setting up camp to her specifications. She sets high standards for her genin team. The genin are nervous and unhappy around her in a way that is inconsistent with exam trepidation.”

If he’d looked up, he might have seen the Sandaime’s eyebrows raise. “Well now, that’s not encouraging. Is it simply that she is an unforgiving teacher, or is there something more sinister there?”

Rabbit’s jaw worked under his mask. “Unknown at this time,” he had to admit.

“Hmm.” He took a long puff, exhaling a cloud that drifted toward the open window. “That will be all for now.” He glanced toward the window. “You’re dismissed. I believe my next appointment is here.”

Rabbit thought about the six teams sitting in the waiting room, but inclined his head without comment. It must be good to be so important.

When he climbed in the window a minute later, that wasn’t exactly what was going through Kakashi’s mind.

“I knew she was suspicious,” he said mildly before the Hokage had an opportunity to say anything. “This is me, being correct. The suspicious person is now a mist-nin, about whom 'suspicious’ is so readily apparent that it doesn’t need to be specified.”

The Sandaime gave him a withering look. It was all bluff. He was really very fond, Kakashi was certain. “I believe that you actually said that she appeared to be telling the truth about not being beholden to a village.”

He spread his hands palms-up. “I was wrong? Or that changed very recently.” He slouched, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s not implausible, actually. She mentioned being on the outs with Mist, but then she went and killed Zabuza.”

“Yagura doesn’t seem like the kind of man who appreciates someone getting rid of his missing-nin for him,”  Sandaime commented ambivalently.

Kakashi shrugged. “But is he the kind of man who would pass up the chance to recruit a nin strong enough to do it, if she dropped into his lap?”

Hiruzen sighed. That was all the answer he offered.

After a moment, Kakashi shifted his weight, trying to figure out what his Hokage was waiting for him to say. It took a minute. “You still want to try to recruit her,” he said flatly.

The Hokage offered him a smile. “Now, I didn’t say that.”

He gave his liege-lord an unimpressed look. “Of course you didn’t. I suppose I’ll be watching her for unrelated reasons that require exposing her to Naruto and trying to figure if it was family loyalty that brought her for this exam.”

“I’m sure she is as invested in the welfare and performance of her students as would be any teacher who has worked with them for such a considerable length of time,” the Hokage dismissed.

“Two months at most?” Kakashi huffed. “You’re right. She probably doesn’t care if they drown in the bath.”

“Well, that’s not exactly what I hear.” Hiruzen took another drag. “But I’m sure it’s close enough to the truth. Which makes it all the stranger that all of team 7’s reports indicate signs of immediate attachment and investment, wouldn’t you say?”

Kakashi’s nose twitched. The tobacco was offensively strong, even though the mild filtering of his mask. “She’s a good actor,” he tried.

The old man hummed noncommittally.

“Or she’s desperate for family and latched onto us, as the best example of familial affection she’s ever seen,” he suggested drolly. “She looked beneath Sasuke-kun’s thorny exterior and saw a caring heart. Perhaps I am the father figure she’s never had.”

The Sandaime snorted, amused despite himself. “I’m not certain that Uzumaki-san would be your child, in this surrogate family scenario. If her appearance reflects her age, she is your peer. If she is displaying the famed youthfulness of the Uzumaki, she might be old enough to be your grandmother.”

Kakashi wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t see it. But then, that was the point, wasn’t it?

“Test it,” the Sandaime suggested helpfully. “Work different methods of address into conversation. Try 'Obaasan’ the next time you meet and see if her head turns. If she attacks you, you’ll know that you were either correct, or that you have offended her.” He stroked his beard. “Yes, this could be most useful and amusing for me.”

He leveled his leader with a hard look. “I refuse.”

'I don’t want to fight her unless I have to. She already seemed too familiar with my fighting style. And she outran Gai- this woman is too dangerous to have in the city.’

“Boy, this is your Hokage’s order!” The Sandaime faked offense, scowling ferociously. “You’ll do as I say.”

“Never.” He glanced toward the window. “Is there anything else, sir?”

Hiruzen paused. “There is one more thing. I’ll be having someone with more than one social skill working on turning Uzumaki herself to Konoha, but there is something I would like for you to do with Gai-kun.”

Kakashi groaned.

She didn’t see anyone she knew until the second day in Konoha. She’d signed her boys up for one of the few training fields available to the visitors for several consecutive hours. Aiko was leaning against the fence and not really paying much attention to the maneuver her team was practicing when she smelled- old blood. Dust- no, sand. Unwashed clothes.

Without turning, she sighed. “Hello, Suna nin. I’m afraid I have the field reserved for my team for another-” she glanced at the sun -“hour.”

There was a nervous chuckle. “Lady, it’s really a better idea if you move.”

At Kankurou’s voice, she turned around and made eye contact. “It’s really not.” She flicked her gaze over the three- Gaara was standing furthest back, arms crossed, but Temari and Kankurou were conspicuously not standing in between his path to her. “I hope you’re not insinuating I should be intimidated by you. Or that it would be at all beneficial to instigate a fight while we’re here on Konoha’s good graces.”

'On the other hand, shit. I probably should just have moved,’ Aiko realized. 'Is Gaara the type to hunt down my genin because I told him no?’ A glance at him wasn’t enough to tell either way. 'Either way, too late to pacify. If he’s that kind of guy, he’s seen my headband and he’ll already know there’s only one Mist team.’

“You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to.” Temari’s voice was firm. Aiko didn’t believe the lie of confidence, however. She knew Temari well enough to see this was bluster.

It might be better to scare the team off. Gaara didn’t listen to his siblings, exactly, but they weren’t without some influence over his behavior.

Aiko heard her genin stop in the distance, quiet curses and the sound of running water cutting off. “Did I give you permission to call it a day?” she called a little louder, putting irritation into her tone. Aiko looked back at the Sand genin as her team resumed practice.

Well. Calling them genin was a bit of a farce. Temari was jounin-level, or perhaps tokubetsu jounin. Kankurou could easily be a chuunin. And Gaara… on his own, he was chuunin level with a nearly impermeable defense. With the Ichibi, he was a powerful, if incredibly imbalanced, jounin.

She was a lot stronger than any of them.

Aiko yawned, letting her eyelids fall to half-mast. “The Kazekage’s kids, Temari, Kankurou, Gaara. Youngest one’s the itty bitty ichibi jinchuuriki. You know, I recently spent some time in Suna. I think you could stand to be a little nicer to jinchuuriki, don’t you think? You have some funny ways of treating people who could eat you for breakfast.” She looked at Temari- who was most likely to have heard that they had captured a jinchuuriki who had then proceeded to escape.

If a Konoha-nin was watching- likely, although whether or not they were close enough to hear was debatable – they wouldn’t come to the right conclusion from that.

But the girl from Suna paled. Message received. Temari took a step back. “G-Gaara, why don’t we eat before we train? Like she said, it’s only an hour. I could use a drink.”

He was giving his older sister a strange look, eyes narrowed. Gaara… he was bright, for sure, but he lacked the information to understand the situation.

It was a long, tense moment. But he turned on his heel with a scrape against the sand.

'I’ll have to watch the exam,’ Aiko concluded with a sigh. 'I can’t have Gaara throwing a fit and pulling the heads off my tickets to the finals.’

She recognized that thought was incredibly callous a moment too late and winced. It wasn’t that she didn’t care if the team died, of course. She just… wasn’t that invested in them as people. She cared in the sense that it was her responsibility to take care of Mist nin, a category that included them.

'What am I going to do about them, anyway?’

It had been a total goddamn fluke that team 7 had gone up against Gaara, and she wasn’t going to let it happen. Sakura’s death had been two months before the tournament- the grace period for grief decommission was over. Team 7 very well could have been out on mission with a replacement, earning some of the money Konoha was losing while tied up with the tournament. The only reason they hadn’t been doing something useful, in all likelihood, was that Kakashi had gone off the fucking rails and disappeared into ANBU.

Unacceptable. She might not be able to prevent that, but she could leave Konoha and convince someone to request the team specifically for a mission. Someone they’d met before would be met with less suspicion and more likely to be catered to- Tazuna, perhaps? With his bridge completed, he would be a wealthy, influential client who Konoha would cater to. And after giving up the team for so long to see it made, Konoha would want to protect that investment.

Team 7 -or what remained of it- would be safely away from the trouble. That left a rather large hole in the events of the invasion. The Hokage and Jiraiya-sama had been caught up with Orochimaru, and others were caught between invaders and the snake summons. The threat presented by an ostensible genin would be overlooked until too late.

Which, conveniently enough, would be an adequately conspicuous way for her to prove her loyalty was with Konoha and not the treacherous Suna-Sound-Grass alliance.

What to do with him, though, she hadn’t exactly decided. She could truss him up in chakra chains and bang him around until he fell unconscious- but that would allow Shukaku to take over his body, right? Not really worth it. The chakra chains would still be an acceptable plan, but it would be tedious to hold him indefinitely. And then what- say she kept him from doing any damage throughout the invasion- he’d just be going back to Suna, without the perspective-changing conversation with Naruto that had led to his eventual rise to Kazekage and -much more importantly- actualization as a human being who was treated with basic respect.

But Konoha couldn’t and wouldn’t keep him in custody forever. Absolutely no one would support her if she claimed he should be kept in protective custody due to the incredibly inappropriate way he was treated in Suna. At best, it’d seem like an obvious ploy to gain control of a jinchuuriki. At worst, it would rally other countries against the notion that their poor treatment of state assets was anyone’s business and side with Suna to cover their own asses.

'I want to take him home with me, actually.’

That would be… would it be irresponsible? She knew he wasn’t beyond hope of redemption. But he could still do a lot of damage with his bijuu, even if he wanted to come. And she couldn’t just kidnap him for his own good. That wasn’t much better than what Suna did.

'Ugh. Caring about people’s human rights is difficult. It would be so much easier to just put him in a sack.’

Her vision whited out. Her gut churned. She was staring at the three-tailed bijuu.

His tails flailed unhappily.

Aiko swallowed. “I was joking?” she tried weakly. “Also, wow, how did you do this?” She turned around. “Is this – what is this?”

“I am merely demanding your attention for the moment,” the Sanbi dismissed. His gaze was hard. “Am I understanding correctly that my brother, the Ichibi, is nearby?”

Oh. Right. Of course that was what he cared about, not an off-color joke about child abduction.

“I am not a fan of that either,” Sanbi observed dryly. “Focus. My brother?”

“He’s sealed inside the little one I saw a moment ago,” Aiko explained.

“I did not see,” Sanbi snapped. “Your seal does not allow me that privilege. Tell me about this jinchuuriki. What manner of person has imprisoned my brother?”

Um. “Gaara is twelve,” Aiko pointed out. “His jinchuuriki status was non-consensual. If I remember correctly, it was an experiment performed while he was still in the womb. It killed his mother, which led to him being treated very badly. The seal is terrible and he’s very confused.”

“Confused?” Sanbi asked sharply.

Aiko grimaced. “He should be dead,” she admitted frankly. “His seal malfunctions whenever he loses control over it. That means he can’t sleep. He literally does not sleep, which would kill him except that the Ichiba won’t let him die. But it-” she stumbled. “I mean, she? He?” At the nod, she continued. “he doesn’t heal Gaara, so his condition is poor, and he’s irrational in addition to being poorly socialized. He’s operating under the assumption that the Ichibi is his mother. Actually.”

Sanbi closed his eye for a long moment. “That is… I see.” He seemed pained. “My youngest brother has never been the most….” He trailed off, apparently lost for words.

“Not that most maternal, I gather,” Aiko offered gingerly.

Sanbi winced. “That’s true, but somewhat of an understatement. It is always unacceptable to enslave a sentient being, but in my youngest brother’s case, I am a little sympathetic to a human’s plight in coexisting with him.”

“Yeah.” Aiko slumped. “I mean. You, the eight-tailed, definitely the seven-tailed, she’s very reasonable and I quite like her-”

“Please make your point,” Sanbi said, long-suffering.

She glowered. “Right. I was saying that many of you could and should be released to essentially function as person-states of your own right, able to travel and ally with shinobi nations as you will. I don’t disagree with you- jinchuuriki are symptomatic of deeply fucked up cultural shit. It’s wrong. It’s wrong to do to bijuu, and it’s wrong to do to bijuu. But I still wouldn’t feel comfortable setting the Ichiba free.” She slumped. “Especially without someone who was willing to supervise him and make sure he won’t hurt anyone.” Aiko made eye contact- and noticed for the first time that her vision was perfect again here- and licked her lips. “He’s hurt a lot of people in Sand,” she explained. “As far as anyone can tell, for the fun of it.”

Sanbi sighed. “That… sounds about right.” He curled a tail around to rub at his temple. “What a mess.”

“Yepp,” Aiko agreed. She sighed, too. “I’d probably make the same decision I did with you.” She cast him a sideways look. “I acknowledge that it is and was morally wrong, and I don’t want to.” Aiko swallowed. “But I won’t prioritize one person’s freedom when it comes at the cost of many lives.”

There was silence for a moment. Then the Sanbi snorted. “You lie,” he countered. “You absolutely would, for yourself, or the blonde boy who you miss, or perhaps even the jinchuuriki with whom you associate.”

Aiko mulled that over. “I’m a hypocrite,” she admitted with a laugh. “Yes. Fine. In those rare circumstances, I absolutely would damn the world for one person.”

His laugh was ugly, and perhaps bitter. “You are not a nice person, little one. Be gone.”

chapter 15

Konoha kind of sucked.

At least, it sucked when you were pretending not to know any one in town or how to locate any key locations. Being under constant surveillance by an ANBU team didn’t exactly help Aiko get jollied up, either. By the day before the test, her nerves were strung out.

It wasn’t so bad for her genin team, as far as she could tell. Konoha must have determined that they weren’t high-level plants. Or, like, higher level plants than was expected. So the three-man ANBU patrol team (she wasn’t fucking bitter that she apparently didn’t merit a full-team with a captain. Of course not. Why would she be bitter about that? Being underestimated was a tactical advantage that someone who was fucking stupid enough to accidentally become the Mizukage wouldn’t get often.)

- anyway, the team stayed on her ass like a tight pair of pants and occasionally signaled to each other in super-secret Konoha chakra pulse code which she definitely didn’t detect or understand and wasn’t fucking irritated about, okay?

She may or may not have spent nearly half the day in her hotel room glowering at the staticky tv while one of her ANBU watchers pointed out something that wasn’t actually suspicious in what had to be a fit of optimism that something exciting would happen soon. Apparently they had a long shift. God, she remembered that grind. Patrolling at nights, under the open sky, sprinting over the rooftops- that was fine. But daytime surveillance of some dignitary or other mildly important personage was tedious.

“Poor bastards,” Aiko said to herself.

One of the ANBU’s chakra honed in on her, apparently augmenting their hearing to catch what she said next. Perhaps they thought she had some kind of communication device.

That kind of ability was a clue she latched onto out of boredom- that meant there was no one on the team who had augmented hearing normally. So there no Inuzuka around. But being able to temporarily sharpen senses with chakra implied practice in a similar skillset or above-average ability in chakra manipulation. A Hyuuga? A medic? Maybe even a Nara, actually. The team was either a bit green or a bit relaxed, judging by the fact that they hadn’t seen fit to go chakra dark. Someone must have pegged her as lacking sensing abilities.

To be fair, that was true- but she was attuned to the type of cues that Konoha used from years of personal experience. Still. A truly cautious, paranoid team would have gone to the extra effort. She wasn’t exactly being tailed by veterans here. Again, she was being underestimated.

‘Or maybe’, Aiko thought optimistically. 'Maybe Konoha is intentionally pretending to underestimate me in order to slip something more covert past my attention, or to try to pinpoint my abilities. Maybe-’

She sighed.

'This is getting stupid. Those are all possibilities, but I’m just wallowing now. I’ve got to get out of this room.’

Telling herself that didn’t make venturing out to be a pariah in her hometown any more attractive. If she’d worn nearly any other headband, the reception would probably have been less pointed. But no. She’d had to fall in with Mist. She’d pledged to protect and serve the country with the honorable distinction of producing the most basketcases per capita in the goddamn continent.

'Well,’ Aiko thought with dark humor. 'I commit like a motherfucker, at least. I ruin lives like nobody’s business. Mostly mine, but hey.’

That didn’t exactly bode well for Kirigakure, but she couldn’t possibly be worse than Obito.

Probably?

Whatever.

It was the scent of spices and heated sauces clawing their way through her window that finally drew Aiko out into the streets. She followed her nose to festival-type stands set up for the exams. Aiko slipped into the crowds with only a flinch at the press of bodies. She was aware, too aware, that proximity to strangers was made even more alarming and dangerous with her reduced vision. Her heartbeat climbed from the effort of concentrating enough to offset her blurry, dark vision with what she was hearing to navigate. More than once her reflexes were tested by the effort of quickly but smoothly retreating from the brush of fabric or the heat of skin when she accidentally stepped too close to someone else.

It was unexpectedly exhausting. Unless she was pretending to be in such a bad mood that she was purposefully bumping into people, she had to be careful. She was being watched.

'They probably can’t see that much.’ Aiko felt a muscle flex in her neck. She suppressed the urge to look around and pinpoint where her observers had moved to as a vantage point- they would know that she would suspect she was being watched, but confirming that she was aware enough of her observers to locate them would provide data about her abilities. They’d probably send a better team.

That would be better for her pride, to be honest, but it was safest if she could be semi-certain that she could ditch the observers if needed.

Dried fish and the scent of octopus steaming in batter rose temptingly above the crowd, but she found it too hard to pinpoint the takoyaki stand. She took a chance on a queue where the air was tantalizingly mingled with savory scents. By the time she was close enough to pick up on the warm notes of soy sauce and frying chicken,  it was a bit late to duck out of the line unseen.

That was fine. Festival karaage was the best. There was absolutely nothing like it. Her mouth watered.

She was nearly at the front of the line when something changed. Aiko kept her face blank, but her attention was turned backwards.

The noise of the crowd had changed- louder, although the tone and quality of the sounds hadn’t changed. It was closer? Yes. Something on the far edge of the road was causing people to crowd away, forcing the slow stream of bodies to press closer.

Aiko focused on the area, just for a moment.

'Ah,’ she thought simply.

The man in front of her moved away. She stepped forward unthinkingly and chose the medium-size serving when prompted.

'Now that I’ve noticed him, it’s hard to imagine I didn’t sense him approaching before now. He’s not subtle, is he?’

Seeing -or detecting, rather- Gaara as an adult, Aiko reflected, made it difficult to believe that anyone had failed to notice he was a jinchuuriki. He oozed bad news. Even civilians could tell, judging by the way the crowd parted around him as he skirted the edges of the street on the way to the training grounds allotted for the foreigners. She didn’t look at him as she left coins on the counter tray, but the grip of her left hand on the steaming cup was a bit too firm.

It was quite likely that a more obvious jinchuuriki had never obvioused. Gaara was, like, the prototypical jinchuuriki. Looking up the definition of a jinchuuriki would lead to a list of his most distinct traits and a warning to stay away.

How had he slipped by unnoticed?

Gaara was a classic case study of weak sealing- the steady fog of malevolent intent incongruous with his calm-faced exterior was a bit of a giveaway. The obvious fear displayed by his teammates made it painfully apparent that something was amiss, if absolutely nothing else.

What the hell was Konoha doing? Had they all collectively forgotten how to ninja, or was there a reason that they would allow an obvious jinchuuriki to wander the streets, undeclared?

No. Konoha had to know. Maybe… maybe it was a case of him coming into Konoha unremarked, rather than undetected. That fit the evidence better. But why would Konoha tolerate that?

'Sand is a traditional ally,’ Aiko allowed. She stabbed a piece of karaage with the wooden pick and lifted it to her mouth. Hot juice spilled across her lips when she bit in, hastily licked away before it could make a mess. 'Maybe they’re willing to go further than I thought to preserve that relationship.’

That… that possibility certainly fit in with what had happened after the chuunin exams invasion, that was for sure. Aiko frowned.

She needed to think more deeply on that. Just in case. She’d taken Konoha’s quick assent to mended bridges as proof of Konoha’s forgiving nature, as well as their desperation for any ally among the great nations when the largest two countries were Fire Country’s dedicated enemies.

If that hypothesis was false- if the treatment of Suna was due to something intrinsic about their relations rather than desperation- then her goal might be harder to meet. It might require more drastic action than simply leaving Suna out to flap in the wind.

Well. There was always the several hundred kilometer long conclusion about why Konoha would prefer Suna to Kiri.

Her jaw clenched. The street food felt dry and tasteless in her mouth.

'I should go make sure my team is ready to go. The exams start in 14 hours. Is there anything I can do for them at the last minute?’

Aiko considered possibilities and discarded them just as quickly. With team 7, she’d sponsored bonding time- dinner, a sleepover, and one last check of equipment. But that didn’t seem appropriate now, with a team that was nervous around her. It would be counterproductive. She’d already had her genin confirm their prepared status at the local office and….

Huh. She couldn’t sense her ANBU team. Aiko felt an eyebrow raise, hidden in her bangs. Had they fallen back to a distance? Had her guard been lifted- no, that was ridiculously unlikely. It was possible that the team had simply been given shift relief by a more experienced or paranoid unit.

Well. It shouldn’t matter. If she didn’t 'know’ anything about her observers, than she certainly shouldn’t react to changes in their patterns.

After the karaage, she managed to find takoyaki hot enough to burn her mouth and make the proprietor joke about her having a cat-tongue. It settled in her stomach and left her feeling lazy and satisfied. She could go back and lay down, but it seemed like the spell would break and she’d go back to feeling like a caged animal in a place that should have been hers. Aiko was already walking, so she tossed her trash and let her feet carry her unthinkingly.

She did make one errand that lifted her spirits when her wanderings took her past a bookstore. Clever, clever Jiraiya. It really was a good time to schedule a release of a special edition- people would be in Konoha from the many countries with embargoes on his work. He’d make bank, not the black market that moved his work across borders.

'To be fair, he’s probably involved in the black market as well.’

Aiko admired Jiraiya’s business acumen even as she purchased her copy and sealed it away in a scroll. The proprietor gave her an odd look and put away the blue plastic bag she’d offered, but Aiko was done fucking around with the security of her Icha Icha.

The Icha Icha situation was, quite frankly, becoming ridiculous.

The last copy she’d dared to carry around had been confiscated by Suna when they captured her in the desert. The one before that she’d been forced to abandon due to Obito’s sudden onset of jackassery, and then it’d been taken as evidence by Konoha before she got back.

Frankly, she didn’t fucking trust anyone to leave her books the hell alone. What was up with that, even?  She loved her books, but they weren’t that valuable or unique. There was no reason that this should keep happening to her. It was weird, that was what it was. Just plain weird.

Walking became easier as the dinner rush ended and people streamed home. She haunted the streets until curfew forced her in, although she kept to back streets to avoid the crush of bodies. Surely she was still being watched, but merely wandering the city wouldn’t betray excessive familiarity, as long as she avoided shortcuts and retraced her steps to return to the hotel instead of taking another route.

Her genin were already abed when she checked in. Yuusaku stirred when she slid the door open and counted bodies, but the others were fast asleep. He blinked heavily and made eye contact. Then he made a displeased sound and disappeared back under the covers. Aiko smiled wryly and closed the door.

It was all rather endearing, but it didn’t bode well for their survival odds.

Well.

'Let them rest,’ Aiko decided. ’They’ll need it. And perhaps they just feel safer here. They should be more alert sleeping outside. If nothing else, they’ll set a watch.’

If nothing else, the following morning brought the relief that her brats were at least sensible enough to make it to the exam room. She stood outside the exam center just long enough to see the poor fools who’d failed that pre-test stream out, dejected.

It took a surprisingly long time for events to commence. She didn’t remember that, but then, she’d been busy with Anko at this point in her..  She’d been with Anko at the time before.

The foreign adults mostly milled around, waiting for further information. When the jounin were finally invited to observe the proceedings of the first event, Aiko joined nearly all the other teachers. She fell to the back of the line filing into a room that resembled the jounin lounge.

There was something a little odd, though, she noticed. There were certainly Konoha jounin in the room- but most of them weren’t the genin teachers. There were a few teachers for older teams, she saw, but.. Kakashi, Kurenai, Gai, Asuma… nowhere in sight.

'Why would they separate the Konoha sensei, I wonder?’

Aiko slowly unwrapped a piece of gum and bit into it. She crushed the silver wrapper in her fist before tucking it in a pocket. Genma, who happened to be standing next to her, gave her a curious look.

His lips worked where he would normally have a senbon, and something brightened in his face. “I’ll buy you a coffee in exchange for a piece of gum,” he offered casually. He leaned into her personal space, just close enough for her to feel the heat of his body through her left sleeve.

Aiko was already reaching for the pack when his words registered. She glanced up at him incredulously. Was he flirting-

oh.

Oh.

Her gaze fixed on his smile, slightly crooked and displaying teeth that perfectly straddled the boundary of 'white’ and 'too white’. Her heart shuddered uncertainly in her chest.

He smelled like the reinforced padding in his flak jacket and the same weapon’s polish she’d always favored, paired with the 'scentless’ Konoha type soap that actually had some notes of pine. He smelled like home and safety.

There had always been rumors about Genma being a flirt, but she’d never seen evidence before. Of course, he was… what, fifteen years her senior? So that previous lack of evidence made sense. Only a true, Jiyaiya-level creep would be so shameless as to flirt with someone who he should see as a child.

'Well. Actually. He’s not that much older than me now,’ she reasoned. 'Four years isn’t a significant different for two people in their twenties.’ When Genma reached out to take the candy from her, warm, calloused fingers accidentally brushed over hers. He was quite attractive, actually. God, look at those shoulders.

The look he gave her was entirely too pleased. That snapped her out of it.

It was probably far too late, but she rearranged her expression back into studied disinterest. “No need. Sometimes a person really needs gum.” Pointedly, she wrinkled her nose and turned away from his breath slightly.

Genma’s eyebrows rose slowly. Someone nearby snickered but she couldn’t see who.

That was when the lights dropped.

Aiko tensed, shoulders drawing in. She cursed the reaction immediately but it was too late to do anything about it. How dark was it? How impaired was normal vision? She had no idea from her own senses. But logic told her the room was probably only dim enough to make viewing a screen easy.

…Genma, at least, had definitely seen that reaction.

Well.

'He won’t know what to think about it. He’ll probably just think I’m easily startled. Maybe even that I’m on edge about sudden environmental changes when in a small room full of high-level shinobi without a single ally.’

Actually.. yeah. That was a much more plausible explanation than secret night blindness.

A screen flickered to life- no, it was wavering, undulating along a loosely hung sheet. It was a projection. Aiko leaned back against the wall and watched what she could see. The display was bright enough- the problem was more that taller jounin were blocking the bottom part of the screen. Still, she saw her genin file into view, along with a whole host of others.

Her eyes darted across the distant room, cataloging genin mostly by hairstyles and what little could be discerned of their clothing from the ceiling camera. Team 7 bounced in near the middle of the group, in a mob of Konoha shinobi. Others filed around, spilling into the corners of the room and perching on desks.

Her genin had been some of the first in, and secured a desirable position against the wall. It was pointless, since Ibiki would split them and make them move, but Aiko still felt a little proud of how sensible her brats were being.

Ibiki entered like a hurricane, sending genin scattering in fear. She repressed a snort.

'Pity that there’s no sound. I wonder what he’s saying.’

The genin took seats according to verbal instructions. As Ibiki paced and pontificated, Aiko felt her attention wander. Her eyes were adjusted enough that she could make out darker silhouettes in the room around her, but not much more. The assembled jounin were quiet, breathing nearly in unison with nary a fidget. She could smell-

Aiko didn’t let herself still, turning her face in continued perusal of the room she couldn’t actually see.

She smelled mint. Genma was breathing in her direction, which meant he was watching her even as she was turned away from him. Surely the back of her head wasn’t too stimulating, no matter how much of a flirt he was. She focused her attention on him without looking over. Aiko tried to hear his breathing, to pick up on the subtleties of his chakra to guess at his level of agitation or interest. Nothing came of it- he was too good, of course he was.

’Well. Of course the Konoha jounin are here to watch us. Is he here to monitor me in specific?’

The skin on the back of her neck prickled. She had the oddest impression that she could almost hear someone talking in the distance, a voice distorted and low. Aiko swallowed. Okay, that was weird. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with her hearing. Was it her imagination acting up? She was more than a bit on-edge. God, she was so paranoid that she was trying to convince herself that she was hearing things. She needed a break, desperately.

She turned her attention back to the screen, portraying obliviousness to Genma’s attention.

The test had started. Ryuusei was staring down at his sheet, pencil still as if he was waiting for the answers to the universe to bubble up in the answer space.  Yuusaku was making lazy, sure markings that would certainly draw someone else to cheat off of him. If she knew him at all, he was marking wrong answers. She felt her lips curl into a smile. And her last duckling, Keisuke, was-

Aiko felt a deep sigh rise in her chest.

Keisuke had flipped his sheet over and was drawing a slightly wobbly kunoichi with improbably shaped breasts and… demon horns. Her hair and clothes were uncomfortably familiar, although shocking liberties had been taken with the neckline. The hip holster was spot-on, though.

'Little shit. Honestly. He seemed so quiet and well-behaved.’

That phrase caught in her mind, ringing like a bell. Shit. That was classic, wasn’t it? Textbook misdirection. Aiko tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling mournfully.

'I can’t believe I fell for that crap. I didn’t notice a genin leering at me because I thought he was the least troublesome one.’

Pride aside, it was… It was kinda gross, Aiko reflected. Children are gross.

“Children are gross,” she said aloud.

Someone gave her an odd look. A few people might have taken a step away from her. Probably wasn’t personal. Certainly they were just trying to get a better view of the projection as it cycled through camera feeds.

Her brats made it through the test, along with about half of the teams. When the screen focused on Sakura’s beaming relief as results were announced, Aiko looked away.

'She’s going to be dead before the end of the day.’

It would be nice to forget that. It would be really, really nice to forget that.

An anomaly in the crowd drew her eye. Genma. He was too still in her peripheral. He was definitely watching her, not the screen. Had he caught the image that had prompted her to look away? He shouldn’t have, but she had shit luck. Who else had been displayed at that moment? Could her motion be attributed to boredom or distraction, given her careless statement minutes ago about distaste for children? How should she play this off?

'Deflect. Make him think that something else is going on in my head, that it wasn’t about the video feed.’

Deliberately, she turned her head and made eye contact as if sensing his attention had been what prompted her to look away  from the screen. His features started to shift into false sheepishness, a hand moving to the back of his neck. Aiko tilted her head minutely, let her mouth twist into a wicked little smirk, and then slowly, obviously, ran up and down his body. When she made it back up to his eyes, the pretense of embarrassment at having been caught staring was gone, replaced by something sly and hungry.

She had just thought to deflect by leering- not to actually do anything. But.

He looked like he wanted a chance to get her naked and mouth at every centimeter of her flesh. He looked like an excellent distraction.

A warm thrill simmered in her body, too low for her to pretend the sensation was in her stomach. She lifted her head just slightly in challenge, flashing her neck.

Then she broke the stare and walked for the door.

Her pulse quickened when he followed.

His gaze was towards the exit when he stepped into the hallway, clearly looking to follow her out the building. He was looking the wrong way. She shut the door and slammed him into the wall, one hand in his collar and the other curled around the wrist that had reached for a weapon. There was a tense moment, then he let her press his wrist against the wall by his head.

“Not that I mind-” his amused tone hitched when she put her teeth to his neck to shut him up, deflecting from his mouth. She didn’t want to kiss him-that was too personal. She licked. He made a sound she wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t been against his throat. Something fierce uncoiled in her chest even as she was pressing a knee between Genma’s legs.

She could feel his pulse jumping through her lips. She’d done that. The knowledge was intoxicating. Aiko smiled, and then scraped her inhumanly sharp teeth gently against his Adam’s apple. Casually, she moved a finger to the underside of the wrist she held, checking at his pulse. It was just as fast- of course it was, but that was somehow thrilling. Was he intimidated, or just excited? Did he know that she could rip out his throat with her teeth, if she wanted?

“Uzu.-” He swallowed.

She smiled against the skin. Instead of answering, she squeezed his wrist.

It took Genma a moment to gather himself. “There’s a- room upstairs,” he managed.

Aiko really did not give a single shit. But she liked the way that his breath hitched. “What kind of room?” She moved her hand from his collar to the zipper, pausing a moment to check his expression. Genma’s pupils were blown wide open and fixed on her hand. She tugged it up pointedly, then tilted it down as if she was going unzip the jacket.

“Yes.” Genma twitched against her, as if he wanted to push her off and take control. He seemed to remember that hadn’t been the question. “Control room. Or something.”

Aiko huffed. “Konoha,” she drawled, the irritation of the last months welling up again. “How welcome am I near classified material?” She pulled the flak jacket open and pushed it halfway off his shoulders. Yes. They were as nice as she’d thought. Aiko ran her fingers up and greedily squeezed at the muscles.

Genma sucked in a breath, and that was when she realized it’d been a test. God only knows what would have happened if she’d taken the chance to get close to sensitive equipment. Little shit. It was probably a trap. She’d walk in and ANBU would drop from the ceiling, and she probably wouldn’t get to get anyone naked at all. Aiko bared her teeth and pushed him further into the wall, irritated. He finally spoke up again. “Utility closet.” Genma jerked his head left.

That was a better suggestion.

“Come on.” Aiko tugged.

“I have to disagree with Hatake. She’s definitely an aggressive personality,” Genma described. He slumped against the wall , picking idly at his teeth with his senbon. A truly brutal bruise was starting to bloom above the collar of his flak jacket, but he didn’t seem to care. “Maybe she was having an off-day in Wave, or sticking to a role. She’s quiet enough to get the drop on me and put me against a wall. Fast enough to catch me from reaching for a weapon- the thing with Gai wasn’t a fluke.” He nodded in acknowledgment to the other jounin, who was looking uncharacteristically serious. “I agree that she’s dangerous, in theory at least.”

“You did take a long while to report. I suppose she was also strong enough to keep you captive,” Kakashi drawled without looking up from his book. “Next time we’ll send a rescue team into the utility closet. Did she use the mop to incapacitate you? I bet it was the mop.”

Genma shrugged. “It isn’t fraternizing with a target if they initiate. I was told to get close, not how.” He paused. “She’s fairly hot, too. How certain is the Sandaime that she’s secretly fifty years old? I don’t buy it. There’s no illusion that holds up to that much contact, unless she’s got a Tsunade-level physical transformation going on.” He sucked air in through his teeth. “If so, don’t tell me. I want to keep that memory the way it is.”

Kurenai made a disgusted sound at the crude basis for his analysis, but didn’t disagree. She wouldn’t know, really. She’d been watching the real-time exam with Asuma to call out camera shots to look for while Gai and Kakashi watched the foreigners watch the time-delayed version. But she’d paid enough attention to tune in when Kakashi let out a heavy sigh. She’d watched disbelievingly as Genma had followed his target away from the cameras too eagerly for a semi-public makeout session like a horny teenager. She’d nearly laughed, though, when Genma tried to trick Uzumaki into walking into the control room. That would have been… Well. It hadn’t happened, in any case.

“While I, too, am overjoyed for our comrade’s wealth of energetic activities with many new surprisingly youthful friends, perhaps we might address the matter at hand?” Gai gave an incongruous thumbs-up. “The safety of our beautiful young comrades is paramount! I, for one, am not yet convinced about the presence of such a mysterious person with a demonstrated interest in Konoha’s bright blooming youths.”

Genma eyed Gai suspiciously. He was never certain that the younger jounin wasn’t just fucking with him. “Well,” he started slowly. “I’m not a miracle worker. I determined that Uzumaki-san knows I was there to observe her. I don’t yet know if she knows that I know she knows I’m her watch. I need to spend more time with her to narrow that down and determine a course of action and whether it’s going to be plausible to turn her.”

“She isn’t attached to her team,” Kurenai opined. “I read her as being more dutiful last night. If she wasn’t lying about having no prior commitment to Kirigakure, they have something on her now. Unless we can eliminate that element, persuasion is irrelevant.”

Asuma shook his head. “Maybe she just doesn’t like kids. That’d explain your impression that there’s little to no team connection. I don’t buy that Kirigakure sent an unknown to represent them in Konoha. Yagura’s a wildcard, but he’s not insane. Unless he wants to provoke war, which would be particularly…” Asuma sucked in air through his teeth.  “Imprudent,” he decided.

“Is there another way to reconcile those possibilities?” Genma pulled the senbon out. “What circumstance could lead to a shinobi not being an unknown that Kiri wouldn’t risk sending as a representative, but still make it plausible that she told Kakashi in good faith that she had no village attachment?” He nodded in deference towards the other jounin, who was both younger and more experienced.  

He didn’t think that Uzumaki had slipped a direct lie past Kakashi. She was good at deflection, at making someone look the wrong way for the trick- but he didn’t peg her as an especially skilled infiltrator. No. She was something else, unless this was a helluva long con in action.

Kurenai crossed her arms and hummed. “Some sort of contractor situation?” she guessed, unenthusiastic about the theory. “Uzumaki could be a free agent who has worked with Kirigakure before.”

“Or she could be on the outs with Kirigakure,” Asuma said. He looked out the window, clearly bored with re-hashing what they’d all witnessed and discussed. “Kiri doesn’t exactly have a high satisfaction rate. It could be that she feels the current administration is no place where she belongs. God only knows there’s ten or so different factions of opinion on Kirigakure’s reformation.”

Kurenai nodded slowly. “That would fit, but not explain why she is here now. Unless Kirigakure recently had a change of administration leadership or policy that brought her back into the fold.”

There was a moment of quiet.

Kakashi sighed, lifting his head. “That’s where my money is. In order to determine the level of threat and likelihood of poaching Uzumaki from Kiri, we need to find out who is holding her leash and why she’s cooperating with them.” He shut his book and slipped it away. “The only thing to do is wait for our agent to return with information. But in the meantime, I don’t like the way she flinched when the camera was on my genin. That looked like guilt to me.”

Genma snorted. “I can’t say. I wouldn’t have known that was what had happened from watching her. Are you sure about the volume on these things?” He indicated the tiny black machinery that had been fished out of his ear with senbon and a prayer. “She tensed up when Asuma told me which shot was coming up next. I could swear she’d heard.”

Kakashi’s brow wrinkled. “Extremely unlikely. An Inuzuka could at that distance. I might pick out the communication, if I was paying attention. But we don’t have any reason to assume she has augmented hearing capabilities.”

He let the corollary hang.

Asuma said it anyway. “Don’t have any reason to believe she doesn’t, either, aside from it not being an Uzumaki bloodline.” He snorted, disgusted. “That we know of. Whose to say? That’s not exactly the kind of fabled ability that goes down in history, and the Uzumaki that any of us have personally known could hardly be called representative samples.”

Genma’s mouth twisted to the side. True enough. “That raises the question again of why Kiri had an Uzumaki, assuming she’s not either an independent contractor or improbably well-preserved.” Distaste colored his tone. “I gotta say, the only option coming to mind is unpleasant.”

Kakashi looked away. No one else seemed to want to respond to that.

Kiri’d been one of the countries that destroyed Uzushiogakure- no Uzumaki in their right mind would have chosen to go there. It made much more sense that Kiri had captured some in hopes of making a more stable jinchuuriki, or gaining some kind of sealing knowledge.

If they went by appearances, this woman was about twenty- she wouldn’t have been born when Uzushiogakure fell. That meant she hadn’t been taken prisoner- she’d be a generation removed. It seemed like the kind of thing that Kumo had tried on Kushina and even the little Hyuuga princess. They’d probably taken a young woman or two captive and tried to manufacture their own loyal Uzumaki.

It made the target’s slightly less proto-typical Uzumaki features take on an unpleasant pallor, to say the least. One parent with white or blond hair and dark eyes could explain how her features deviated from well-recorded clan norms.

Well. Genma shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is pleasant and all, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” He made a face. “We have a long day of surveillance tomorrow.”

Kurenai huffed agreement. “I am exceedingly fond of training ground 44,” she said in a dry sort of tone that implied the exact opposite. “I look forward to the opportunity. I only wish that you were so lucky as to join us, instead of your current task. I know how you suffer watching Uzumaki.”

Genma didn’t manage to hide a grin. He did have the better assignment.

“That’s the spirit.” Kakashi ambled to the door, happy to leave the building. The genin were getting briefed, and the foreigners had all been cleared out and escorted to their accommodations before they’d dared to begin this discussion.

Frankly, it was time to go home.

The signal came during that first night of the test in the Forest of Death. Aiko startled awake, reaching for a weapon. She’d trapped the absolute hell out of her quarters, now that there was no risk of genin stumbling into them for the time being. She could hiraishin to her students without much risk of someone getting into the hotel room. At least, not without leaving signs that-

She paused in the middle of adjusting her weaponry.

The seal calling for her attention wasn’t in the Forest of Death. It was in Mizugakure.

“That seems… bad,” Aiko said to herself. Her tone across dubious even to her own ears.

That meant Utakata or Mei. Both options meant there was a fairly good chance that she was talking into either a disaster they couldn’t deal with, or a trap to kill her and replace her.

Well. Utakata was less likely to kill her, unless he was still really hurt. He thought that she’d consciously tricked him into helping her avenge herself on Mizugakure, and honestly, that made so much more sense than what she’d really done that there didn’t seem to be much point in attempting to exonerate herself.

She suited up quickly, not bothering to wear the Kiri-style uniform since she wasn’t representing anyone in Konoha at the moment. It was the work of a moment to pull herself across a distance that would take a lesser woman a good week and a half to cross, if that lesser woman happened to be an elite ANBU.

“As punctual as ever,” Mei greeted calmly, and that didn’t make much sense. Were they pretending to have a rapport? Was that what was happening?

Mei was in a uniform, hair pulled back professionally. Two hunter-nin were standing at opposite ends of the room. The interesting thing, however, was a prisoner bound on his knees at Mei’s feet.

Aiko rolled with it, nodding graciously to her nominal subordinate. “How lovely to see you. Is this a social call?”

The prisoner looked up.

'Ah,’ Aiko thought, closely followed by, ’Holy fucking shit.’

“Konoha has kindly sent someone to express interest in our political affairs,” Mei explained cooly. She looked as though she might give the poor man a kick for good measure. She wouldn’t, though. Not her style. “I was wondering what sort of accommodations you would like to offer our esteemed guest, and what length his stay might be. It is considered most polite not to invite guests long-term without input from the head of the household,” she breezed, and if that didn’t sound pointed, Aiko didn’t know what would. It was probably some kind of follow-up joke to a conversation she’d had with the prisoner before.

Aiko looked at the poor bastard and didn’t rub at her temples. She didn’t. She just really wanted to. “Have you checked for wood clones?” she asked Mei wearily.

Yamato shot to his feet in unison with the fake hunter-nin who lunged at Aiko from behind, swinging. It was an exceedingly foolish move- Yamato was damn good, but he wasn’t good enough to pick a fight in a room with two kage-level kunoichi and a hunter-nin. Aiko put down the clone with prejudice, but winced when Mei wasn’t terribly gentle with the real man.

He hit the ground hard, bleeding from the back of his head. He’d probably have burns around his arms from the material that Mei had used to bind his arms in front in a way that had to be painful.

Typical.

The older kunoichi scowled at Aiko, calm facade thrown off. “I can’t believe that. You just happened to know this specific Konoha nin?”

She considered and dismissed several obnoxious responses, including, “I know everything,” and “I always ask that question, don’t you?” In the end, Aiko settled for sighing and rolling a shoulder. “Oddly, yes.”

Mei eyed her suspiciously a moment before she accepted the answer as it was. The older woman sighed. She crossed her arms. “Well. What do you think?”

Aiko toed at Yamato’s leg. He didn’t move. “I think that this is going to be a diplomatic nightmare.”

Chapter 16

“Do I have to do this now?” Aiko asked the world at large.

She actually wasn’t sure what part of that she was stressing. Did she want someone else to do this now? Did she want to do something else? Did she just want to crawl back into bed and deal with the problem later?

Mei, sweet, kind Mei, answered the question. “Yes.”

Aiko gave her a dirty look. Nobody asked you shit, Mei. God.

Mei didn’t seem to notice. She finished personally securing Yamato’s hands to the interrogation table and then patted the metal-and-gauze combination that prevented his hands from making any sort of handseals. “You really do have to do this now,” she specified.

Aiko thought about the way that Yamato could channel chakra merely by clapping and sighed. She gestured. “Might wanna- yes, like that,” she approved, as Mei apparently read her damn mind and turned his palms to face away from each other. She tightened the binds again.

Mei gave Aiko a wry look when Yamato’s fingers twitched, not quite capable of hiding his desire to fight that movement.

Haha, busted.

Her mind caught on belatedly to what exactly she was approving of. She felt very tired and a bit resentful that she had to be here.

This would have been a great day to not get out of bed. It was only two in the morning and she was calling it now- today was a bust. There was nothing good about today.

“Here you are.” Mei adjusted the lighting brighter and poured a glass of water. Just one. Were they withholding that from Yamato, then? He was going to have a dry mouth. That’d be mildly uncomfortable. That would sure show him to infiltrate Kirigakure.

“Thanks,” Aiko said dully. She took the seat on the other side of the table. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much time. It would be beyond awkward if someone realized I’m not where they think I am.” She ran a hand over her hair, frowned, and then pulled it out of the now-messy braid she’d slept in. It took a minute to put it up in a severe ponytail. That wasn’t a good look for her, to be honest, but there wasn’t a lot she could do without a mirror and a shower.

Mei paused at the door. “It is late. Would you like a coffee or tea?”

Aiko nodded. Yes, did she ever want something with caffeine in it. She didn’t open her mouth, because she might tell Mei that she loved her. Mei was so competent.

When the door shut, she took a long minute to just look at her former comrade. Well. Future comrade, sort of, in that she hadn’t worked with him when she was 13. Past-future comrade. Future past comrade?

‘This isn’t productive.’

She honestly did not know what she was going to say. The possibilities were just too goddamn exhausting. She did not want him running back to make public information about the current state of Kirigakure’s affairs. On the other hand, it would be difficult to become Good Friends with Konoha if their relationship started of with “here, this box has what’s left of that spy you sent me. You’re welcome!”

That was even before she took into consideration that she actually liked Yamato. Mostly. Some of the time.

She didn’t want to kill him, anyway. He was a genuinely good person. Almost a suspiciously good person, really, considering his primary role model. How did that even happen? Kakashi was a gigantic asshole- it was one of her favorite things about him.

Whatever. That was beside the point. Aiko rubbed at her head.

Of course, the fact that Konoha had sent Yamato as a spy complicated things and prevented them from having a moral highground. Even if she killed Yamato, it probably wouldn’t break an alliance if she managed to get it before Konoha knew he hadn’t gotten out in time. Konoha couldn’t demand him back without admitting that they’d sent him to spy on an ally nation, however tenuous that relationship might have been at the time. And he was only one soldier. That was the way it went- if you failed, you were on your own. Kirigakure would probably just get out of any repercussions by blinking and saying, “Yamato? Who?”

Metaphorically, of course. Because Konoha wasn’t going to ask, 'Hey remember that guy who we sent into your city to gather information? His name was Yamato and we want him back, pretty please.’

Yamato knew this as well as she did. He must be banking on a miraculous escape or resigned to torture and death. The traditional answer would be to try to make him decide that betraying Konoha was worth it in exchange for retaining his life and limbs, but she wasn’t interested in that. It probably wouldn’t work, and it’d be a huge bummer besides.

Resentfully, Aiko eyed the top of his fluffy head as he continued to fake unconsciousness. He’d been awake since Mei had secured his ankles to the legs of his chair. He’d probably decided his best chance to escape was after she and Mei left. Which, no. She forbid it.

She picked up the glass of cold water and took a sip. Aiko made a face. Tap water from someone else’s well never tasted quite right, unless you were really thirsty. She looked around to see if Mei was watching- she wasn’t, Mei was still outside the room.

Aiko leaned over and upended the water on Yamato’s head. He came up sputtering, looking at her with shocked indignation.

“You are a shit spy,” Aiko accused immediately, because there didn’t seem to be any point to dicking around. She set the glass out of his reach and then crossed her arms as she settled back in her chair. “If you’re going to infiltrate a foreign country, for god’s sake, don’t get caught.”

He snorted. “That’s hypocritical.” Yamato shook his head, sending water flying. His nose twitched. “Konoha knew when you entered the borders. I made it all the way to your center of administration.”

Aiko made an indignant sound. “That’s hardly the same thing!” She leaned forward. “I wasn’t sneaking in. The next time I need to sneak into Konoha, I’ll tell you so you have an accurate point of comparison. Because honestly, your security is terrible and you’d never know I was there.” She tilted her head back and mockingly mimicked an ANBU callsign giving the all-clear.

His expression didn’t change. Well, perhaps he looked even more mutinous. “I don’t know why I’m arguing with you.” He looked away. “Whose to say you’re even who you look like?”

“That depends on who I look like,” Aiko countered nonsensically.

“You should be in Konoha,” Yamato accused. He was inconspicuously working his arms, trying to loosen his bonds.

She considered that for a moment, and nodded. “True,” she agreed. Truer than he realized.

“But you’re not,” he stressed, as though he was proving some point.

Aiko looked around the room, and then at herself. “I’m not?” she asked mildly. “Isn’t that the Hokage monument?” She widened her eyes at some water damage in the wallpaper. “It’s everything I dreamed of and more.”

His face twitched. “You’re not in Konoha,” Yamato repeated slowly.

“Okay,” Aiko agreed. “You’re the expert here. I’m not in Konoha.”

“But you should be,” Yamato said triumphantly. “You checked in 6 days ago.”

“Oh.” Aiko looked up, pretending to consider that. “I must be in Konoha, then.”

He made a strangled sound.

She cracked a smile, warming up to the conversation. “This is fun,” Aiko decided. She tapped a finger against her face. “I’m glad I got out of bed for this, whether that bed might have been in Kirigakure or in Konohagakure.”

Yamato’s eyes narrowed. “Where, more specifically, might that bed in Kirigakure be?”

Aiko faulted. She opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked at him suspiciously. “Is that a line? I’m flattered, but honestly now’s not a good-”

“No!” he burst out, pinkening. “Why are you interrogating me? Not three months ago, you claimed you had no allegiance to any state. Who are you really?” Yamato looked like he wasn’t entirely certain he was the one tied up for interrogation. He leaned forward aggressively until metal clanked. “You’re a hunter-nin. You were in Wave for Zabuza, and you’re in Konoha for another target.”

She paused.

‘Who on earth would I want from Konoha?’ Aiko wondered.

He looked victorious.

‘No one. There’s no one who would be that important to Kiri there. Bit of a self-centered conclusion, Konoha.’

Her face contorted in an effort not to laugh. “You got me,” Aiko said solemnly. “I’m a hunter-nin. Here, in Konoha. It’s getting difficult to keep up with where we are, though. Could you maybe help me draw a map? I have a crayon here somewhere.”

He gave her a disgusted look. “No, that’s not it then. Who are you?”

Aiko gave him a guileless smile and adjusted her posture to look as relaxed as possible. “I’m a nobody, really.”

Yamato snorted. Then his gaze darted to the side, hearing the footsteps that Aiko had already detected. Mei had been standing there for a few seconds.

The door slide open. Mei took three sharp steps in and set down a full coffee set for one on the table. “Mizukage-sama,” she said politely. Then she backed away, as if she hadn’t just ruined Aiko’s fun.

'She did that on purpose.’

Aiko was left speechless, watching the door as Mei slid it open again. She only mustered, “You’re demoted!” at the last second.

“Of course, Mizukage-sama,” Mei agreed blandly. She bowed and shut the door. She walked away with casual heel-clicks on the tile, unlike her stealthy approach earlier.

Aiko took a deep breath. She rubbed at her temples. She said to no one, “That woman is out to get me.” She looked to Yamato. “You ruin a person’s career just once, and they never let it go.” Then she poured herself a coffee and filled the cup with 4 cubes of sugar and two of the little cups of syrup sweetener. Then she added some milk.

Yamato made a disgusted noise.

She frowned at him, holding the cup covetously against her chest. “What,” Aiko said. It wasn’t a question, because she didn’t want his opinion.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you going to throw that at me, too? If I get an opinion on this, my opinion is no.”

“Because it’s hot?” Aiko guessed. She wouldn’t want hot liquid thrown at her.

“Because I’ll never get all that sugar out of my hair,” he countered. “You eat like an unsupervised child.” His expression was insolently pleased. Of course it was. She’d walked into that.

Her fingers tightened on the cup. She wanted to consider it, but she couldn’t. That would be painful. No one should have hot liquid thrown at them. After a long moment, she rolled her eyes. “Throwing this at you would be a waste of sugar.” Defiantly, she took a long drink.

She didn’t like the look that Yamato was giving her when she looked back at him. He looked like he hadn’t bought that.

'He was provoking me on purpose to see what I would do. He’s making judgments about my personality. He’s probably assumed I’m not likely to actually hurt him personally. Which does rhetorically defang me, a bit.’

Typical. Well, he was a consummate professional. He hadn’t been distracted from his desire to gain information, either, even when she tried to put him off-balance. Aiko pursed her mouth and considered the problem. She wasn’t willing to torture him, she wasn’t willing to let him go to ruin her plans, and she didn’t want to poison her future relations with Konoha.

She couldn’t afford to keep talking with him, really. She was baffling him with bullshit, but she didn’t have unlimited time. Even if she did- the more time they spent together, the better he’d get at extracting information from her. She had to pass him off to someone else, and she had to find a way to keep him stuck in Kirigakure that wouldn’t piss Konoha off too much.

There really weren’t a lot of reasons it might be plausible for a shinobi to spend time long-term in another nation’s capital. Just the one, really, and it hadn’t applied to Konoha and Kiri in a long time.

Well. Where there was one rhetorical option, that had to be her solution, no matter how stupid it was. And boy, was it ever stupid.

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Aiko said, making her decision. She gave him a painfully false smile, thinking of Sai. It must have worked- Yamato recoiled instinctively. “I’m terribly sorry about the misunderstanding, but I’m sure you know how it is. People sneaking around get brought to interrogation. Bad habit, we’ll work on it.”

He gave her an odd look.

“Actually, I quite look forward to working with you,” Aiko said instead of anything that made sense, tilting her head. “You’ll be a nice addition to Kirigakure. I can only assume that Konohagakure sent you as a diplomatic ambassador for a long-term assignment, we haven’t replaced the old one. For some reason. Probably paperwork.”

(The permanent ambassador at residence in Kirigakure had been vacant since Kirigakure had the ambassador assassinated 9 years ago, actually.)

She kicked back in her chair. “Shame that you forgot the paperwork and that it’s traditional to make an appointment before you come to visit administration to begin your work. You’ll have the finest suite available while we get around to verifying your credentials. You’ll understand that you must remain under supervision until the mistake with your paperwork has been cleared up. I’m so embarrassed. I’ll get that resolved as soon as possible. A month. Two. Three, tops.”

Yamato was looking at her like she was an alien. That was strangely comforting. Good: he was the reason she was up at such a ridiculous hour. If she couldn’t be happy, he shouldn’t be either.

Aiko stood and smiled, nodding down at him over her coffee cup. “Sorry about the mix-up, I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Tomorrow you’ll start your full tour. I have just the guide in mind- Mei, you remember Mei, I’m sure.” Her smile turned vindictive. “She’ll be happy to show you the cultural highlights of our fine city.”

“Your city is a mess,” Yamato said blankly. “Half of it’s under construction.”

She gave him an admonishing look. “That’s a rude thing to say, isn’t it?” She clicked her tongue. “Don’t hurt Mei’s feelings, I’m sure she’ll be so happy when I tell her I’m assigning her to you. Which I can do,” Aiko said dryly, “Because I am the Mizukage, as she so helpfully pointed out.”

'Repeating it like that makes it sound like I’m lying,’ she noted. ’Good. That’s fine. It’ll keep him guessing. He should know as little as possible, until I know he can’t do any harm by sharing information.’

He made a noise like a teakettle. She reached over to pat at his hand, thought better of it, and the withdrew her hand. She nodded officiously. “Welcome to Kirigakure, Yamato.” When he looked up sharply, she gave him a pointed little smile. “Or is it Tenzou?”

Confusion was now fighting with fear on his expression. That wasn’t fun to see, exactly, but it’d sure give him plenty to think about. More specifically, it would give him plenty to think about that would occupy him with dead-ends instead of something more productive.

She swept out without waiting for a reply.

As soon as she stepped out, two masked nin bowed and went into the room she’d exited. Mei was waiting in the next room with a mutinous expression.

“It’s not me being petty,” Aiko explained without waiting for the accusation. Mei’s eyebrows ticked up. “I don’t trust anyone else to be able to contain him long-term. Yamato is well-suited to fighting Utakata to assign him instead of you. We can’t afford to let Yamato escape before we’re officially allied with Konoha, but we don’t need resentment poisoning our relations. We have to treat him fairly well.”

There was a pause. Then Mei nodded. Her expression was inscrutable.

Aiko eyed the older woman and figured that was the best she’d get. “He could be very useful,” she added. “If you present things well, he may be amenable to helping with reconstruction. He’s a very sympathetic personality, and talented with mokuton. You won’t be able to trick him into adding to Kirigakure’s military capacity or anything like that, but public works- he might even enjoy the occupation. Establish some rapport, and then walk him past the camps full of orphans and homeless we’ve got,” Aiko said bitterly. “He might jump to offer.”

She didn’t like showing off that weakness, or asking for pity. But pride came second to what could be beneficial. She wouldn’t be a leader who cut off her nose to spite her face.

Wha-

Someone was signaling via hiriashin again. Now that she was fully conscious, it was easier to identify the source- definitely Konoha.

'I told them not to bother me unless they needed to. So. It’s probably Orochimaru or Gaara.’

“Fuck,” Aiko groaned. “I really don’t think I deserved this kind of day. I’m a good person, aren’t I?’

Then she realized Mei was the only other person in the room. She did not want Mei to answer that question.

“I have to go.”

'I can’t be seen. The team would get disqualified and this would have all been for nothing.’

Mei’s mouth opened in question, but Aiko was already flying through the handsigns for Jiraiya’s chameleon jutsu.

“The genin need me,” Aiko half-explained. She pulled the disguise on and moved to the problematic seal within an instant.

The stench of blood. Heavy breathing. One, two,- six people, including her team. Also including Gaara. That wasn’t ominous or anything.

…And that was all that she could tell, because, oh yeah, it was dark and her vision was shit.

Aiko blinked on the Rinnegan, hidden behind the genjutsu, and took an instant to breathe in the tableau.

Yuusaku’s back was to her in a defensive posture- it must have been him with the presence of mind to call for her. The other two boys were -

She twisted.

-they were behind and to the left. One of them was bleeding heavily. Figured- it looked like Temari’s work. Streaks of blood painted the ground in front of them.

She couldn’t see over Yuusaku’s shoulder, but when she leaned to the side she could tell that Gaara was staring at her team, eyes glinting in the dark. Something was shifting inside the gourd he carried on his back. It sounded more like a cat waking up on a bedspread than murder-dust stirring, but it was probably not a cat on a bedspread.

'He is the type to carry a grudge after all,’ Aiko noted, somewhere in the back of her mind. Then she hooked her  hand into Yuusaku’s collar and pulled him away to the first place she could think of before he could react.

She should have taken him to the hotel room in Konoha, but she was standing in front of Mei again. Aiko dropped the genjutsu and held her hands up into a new seal before the startled genin could whip around to look at her. He turned just in time to see her henge into his face, taking an instant longer to try to nod to the disheveled state of his equipment in her disguise.

Then she was back to the forest, ten feet to the right of where she’d been before. That hadn’t been intentional, but it was good. It’d take the focus further from Keisuke and Ryuusei.

Gaara blinked at her, registering her new location much faster than the others. She didn’t wait for any of the genin to catch on to what had happened- she ran at Kankuro. He didn’t even see her before she hit him, sending him skidding to the ground and crashing into a jagged shrub. Temari stepped at her, fan splayed, but Aiko kicked her legs out from under the girl, twisted, and was on top of her back before any of the genin could react.

Temari grunted as her head was yanked backwards. Aiko pressed her foot a little harder into the space between the teen’s shoulder blades and tightened her grip around a spiky blonde ponytail.

Well. She had Gaara’s undivided attention. Her genin were inching away, Ryuusei supporting Keisuke’s weight in a way that implied the news was bad.

'You can’t fuck with my team, assholes. I don’t even like them that much, but they’re mine.’

She felt her lips pressed into an ugly expression. “This is downright unfriendly,” she commented. She directed her words toward Temari and gave an unfriendly tug of her own, not appreciating the damage to her genin. “I think you might have hurt my teammates’ feelings, Suna-san.”

Temari’s hand scrabbled on her fan, but she had no leverage to swing it. It moved a few inches, digging into the moss coating the forest floor.

Kankuro had regained his feet and was eyeing her warily.

“You should go,” Aiko advised. She didn’t think they’d take her up on it. But it would draw way too much attention if someone beat the shit out of Gaara.

Gaara swiped, a fist of sand that would have broken bones if it had connected. Aiko let go of Temari to leap out of the way. Just to be ostentatious, she did a flip while she dodged. Because really, no matter how big and bad Gaara thought he was, he was fucking 13. This was ridiculous. He needed to be put in detention and given a hug. There was no call for these dramatics.

'I should end this interaction and make sure it doesn’t happen again. I can’t beat Gaara without risking interfering with Suna’s invasion plans, so I just need to separate the groups.’

“You’re a little stormcloud, aren’t you,” Aiko observed, nodding at the darkness of Gaara’s expression. “Look, I’m not interested in fighting you. I’d thought that your team would try for the record. Why are you wasting your time? You could have been to the tower already.”

His eyes were furious. She knew what was coming before he made a motion. Aiko let her gaze dart over to the genin on the ground, calculated the difference, and used the Konoha-classic wood substitution jutsu when the sand coffin came crashing down like a fist of a god. There was a fraction of an instant when the jutsu closed on her where she had time to be surprised at the sensation of sand digging into her skin. It wasn’t pain, exactly, not at that point. It was more of a scratchy all-body hug.

Well. It wasn’t a good place to linger, most likely.

Ryuusei had just opened his mouth to scream when she landed in a crouch behind him, grabbed both genin, and removed them from the altercation altogether. Fuck it. If the hiraishin jump was caught on camera there’d be some questions, but Konoha couldn’t force for answers. They’d have to wonder.

When she let go of Keisuke’s arm, something tacky and warm squished in her fingers. He moaned in shock. Aiko grimaced at the feeling and stood. She wanted to shake her hands, but that’d just send it splattering.

Ryuusei rounded on her. “What the fuck was that?” He reached out and gave her a shove. Bemused, she let it happen. It’d been meant for someone heavier than she was, so Aiko had to step backwards quickly to keep her balance. The teenager was paper-white. “That wasn’t the plan- that was-”

“Ryuusei,” Aiko interrupted. “Let’s take care of Keisuke and then argue.”

She could see the instant he realized that she wasn’t his teammate. Actually, it was a bit irritating to see that flash of terror on the face of someone she’d just saved. She gave him a pointed smile. His mouth dropped shut. He ducked his head.

'I suppose that explains why Yuusaku was the one to call for help. One man was down, and one is more afraid of me than the Ichibi. Fucking idiot. I told them about Gaara specifically.’

“Yuusaku?” Keisuke’s voice was lower, disoriented. “What happened?”

“I used shunshin to take us away,” Aiko lied calmly. That was highly improbable for a genin- she couldn’t do that, actually, but then she’d never had reason to hone her shunshin to those heights. It wasn’t impossible, strictly speaking. Just improbable. “I don’t think we should fight them. Let’s hurry and get through this forest so that we don’t encounter them again. Remind me what scroll we have?”

“Wha…” Keisuke swayed. She steadied his shoulders unthinkingly, and then thought better of it to gently lay him down flat. “Don’t you have it?”

His tone was odd. She cast a look at Ryuusei.

He blinked slowly. A finger twitched towards his own hip holster. Then to the ground.

Ah. Keisuke realized that she was acting oddly for Yuusaku, but didn’t know it was Aiko yet. He was testing her. He wasn’t half-bad, if he could try something like that while bleeding out.

Aiko felt her lips quirk into a smile. “Did you hit your head? I need a look at your arm now. Ryuusei, med kit.” She kept up a running commentary as she cut off his sleeve and the arm-bands securing hidden weaponry. “I was testing you. Ryuusei has the earth scroll, obviously.”

He relaxed, pliant in her grip. “I want an explanation later,” Keisuke slurred. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Hmm.” She let that hang in the air. He’d probably figure it out later, but no way was she going to verbally acknowledge that she wasn’t a genin in this forest. She didn’t sense anyone, but that didn’t necessarily mean shit. Especially since it was trapped with cameras and sound equipment. “Good job earlier,” Aiko said. She assumed, anyway. Keisuke had probably tried to take a blow for his teammates, judging by the bloodspray and his position earlier. Aiko hissed in sympathy when she saw the full extent of the problem. Temari could be vicious.

'But I didn’t expect her to be ready to make a killing blow. Is she blooded already? It could also have been a miscalculation. She is just a genin. Or she could have assumed it wouldn’t matter what she did, since Gaara wouldn’t let them live anyway.’