Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shibui (n) - old-school cool.

_ _

It’s a full moon - the light of it visible even through the thick Fire Country canopy. It turns the bark of the trees silver and deepens the shadows into a small abyss, making Obito feel exposed and off-balance. Though, really, that’s probably more the fault of the forest - and the fact that for the first time in thirteen years, he’s less than five miles from the gates of Konoha.

Thirteen years. Almost half his life.

He never wanted to go back, not after everything, but fate hasn’t been big on granting his wishes, and this time is no exception.

“Maa, will you stop pacing,” Kakashi grumbles from his spot at the base of one of the bigger trees ringing their little clearing. “You’re scaring the children.”

Said children all glare at Kakashi for that remark, though they’ve been strangely silent since crossing the border so this is probably affecting them, too.

“The children are fine,” Sasuke snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. His fingers are twitching, restless, against the sleeves of his jacket.

“Yeah,” Naruto backs Sasuke up, like he hasn’t been drawing nervous patterns in the dirt with a kunai for the last ten minutes. “You’re the ones freaking out.”

“Hypocrites,” Obito declares, but forces himself to stand still. “All of you.”

He mostly means Kakashi, who is projecting an annoying aura of calm as though Obito doesn’t know him as well as breathing and can’t see right to the anxiety thrumming underneath. Kakashi, he thinks, wants to go back even less than he does, because for Kakashi there are no excuses - no mysterious dark forces controlling him, no lost memories, no foreign chakra invading his mind. It was just him and a blade and a terrible decision, and that haunts him more than he’s usually willing to admit.

The other brats still glaring at him from where they’re huddled together like ducklings. Even Sakura seems restless, rolling and unrolling the scroll she’s been pretending to read.

“They’re late,” Obito says to change the subject.

“Now who’s the hypocrite?” Kakashi predictably fires right back.

“Shut up, Bakakashi. That’s different and-”

Foreign chakra signatures, rapidly approaching. He cuts himself off and hovers a hand near his kunai pouch. It’s probably the ANBU who have been tasked with escorting them to the Hokage Tower, but he’s not about to take any chances. It could also be a shinobi who somehow heard of their impending arrival and has decided to try for vengeance before they’re under the formal protection of Sandaime.

It’s Konoha - after a Kyuubi attack and an almost-execution, and thirteen years as a missing-nin. Obito isn’t ruling anything out, okay?

The rest of Team 7 are on their feet now, too, sliding into fighting stances. But out of the shadows steps a squad of four Leaf ANBU, some recognizable masks among them.

“Uchiha,” Crow says in flat greeting. “Hatake.”

“So good to see you again,” Obito says with a sharp smile, just for the tensing of Crow’s shoulders in response. He has a feeling he won’t be dangerous for much longer, so he’s going to take advantage while he can.

Crow recovers quickly, though her hand stays near her kunai pouch. “Follow us, please.”

“Of course,” Kakashi says with a dip of his head and an admonishing look in Obito’s direction. Right, right, they’re supposed to be setting an example, and teaching the brats to be a pain in the ass for the Hokage’s ANBU probably isn’t a good idea.

Obito still wants to stick his tongue out him, but he’s a mature adult. Instead, he focuses on the ANBU as they take to the trees. Two of them drop back to the rear of the group, forcing Team 7 into the middle. They look like ghosts in the moonlight and he hates the shiver that runs down his spine. It’s just a village, he tells himself for the thousandth time since they got an invitation to the exams. It’s just a wall and buildings and a stupid monument sporting his dead sensei’s face. It isn’t haunted, or cursed, or any of the things his anxious mind has conjured over the years.

It’s just a fucking place, and coming back to it isn’t going to unravel his life. (He hopes.)

He can't turn back, anyway, because there are the gates, looking the same as they did on the night he left. (There was no moon, back then, and the darkness felt almost absolute.) He takes a deep breath when they stop in front of them - comforted by the sight of his uncertainty reflected on the faces of the rest of his team. Even Sakura, who has the fewest demons here.

“We’re taking you straight to the Hokage Tower,” Crow says. “Keep your heads down and don’t engage with anyone.”

Right, like he’d start a fight two seconds in. He knew their opinion of him was low, but that’s just insulting. He gives them another sharp grin, because he can, and nods in acquiescence.

“What’s with all the cloak and dagger stuff?” Naruto demands in a furious whisper. “We’re not criminals.”

“They are,” Rat declares, with a gesture towards Kakashi and Obito.

Naruto bristles, but Kakashi puts a stilling hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. We expected this.” To the ANBU, in his politest tone possible (and also his fakest, in Obito’s opinion), “please take us to the Hokage.”

Naruto huffs, but backs down, and Crow, voice almost dripping with disdain, orders, “stay close.”

It’s a mercifully short journey over the rooftops, and they move too fast for Obito to really take stock of his surroundings, which is a small blessing. His heart already feels like it’s trying to beat out of his ribcage without looking up at Minato-sensei on the Hokage Monument, or figuring out what has and hasn’t changed in the past thirteen years.

All of that can wait until tomorrow. He has a meeting to get through first.

And as expected, Sarutobi in his office - clad in his Hokage robes and smoking his ever-present pipe. Naruto brightens at the sight of him. “Hokage-jiji!”

“Hello, Naruto,” Sarutobi says with a fond smile. “Sasuke, Sakura.” His gaze lingers on them, too, no doubt cataloguing all the changes that their year away from Konoha has brought: Sakura’s messy pixie cut, Sasuke’s relaxed stance, Naruto’s contained exuberance. “You three are looking well.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama,” Sakura says with a polite bow. Sasuke merely grunts, because some aspects of personality can never be changed.

Then Sarutobi’s eyes are fixed on him. He straightens unconsciously, shoving down his complicated feelings about this man who has always inexplicably believed in him - far past the point that’s probably wise.

“Obito, Kakashi,” he says now. “You’re looking well, too.”

“Thank you,” Kakashi says in an echo of Sakura. Obito settles for a nod, biting back the request that they forget the stupid pleasantries and get this show on the road. Sarutobi didn’t mention any demands in his letter to them, but Obito isn’t stupid. They’re not going to be allowed to roam freely around Konoha for a whole day, let alone the duration of the exams.

Fortunately, Sarutobi stands. “We can finish catching up later. For now, all of you please come with me to the sealing chamber.”

Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be. Great.

“Sealing chamber?” Naruto asks in confusion. Kakashi merely squeezes his shoulder again.

Obito wants to ask that they spare the brats what is probably going to be an unpleasant experience, but he grudgingly understands Sarutobi’s reasoning. This won’t be a normal exam for them. Everything they do won’t just be a reflection of their own skill, but of his and Kakashi’s teaching abilities - of the ideas they might have been planting in the genins’ impressionable minds. If Team 7 steps out of line, it will be Kakashi and Obito who will pay, and Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto have to understand that, as much as Obito hates it - being used against them like this.

Or maybe that’s an uncharitable way of thinking of about it. He doesn’t really care, either way.

The sealing chamber is in the basement of the Hokage Tower and instantly reminds Obito of a prison cell. No windows, a concrete floor etched in intricate designs, only flickering torches on the walls for light. Konoha always did love adding an air of drama to things like this. He suspects that the Shodaime is partially to blame for that. The Senju clan seems to have been just as melodramatic as the Uchiha, back in the years of the village’s founding, and the other Hokage have just carried on the tradition - Senju blood or not.

Sarutobi pauses at the edge of the circle, expression unreadable as always. “One of you, please take a seat in the center.”

Obito steps forward first, because this at least he can do for Kakashi - and considering his higher chakra levels, it’s going to be an even more unpleasant experience than usual.

“You’re sealing our chakra, right?” he asks as he shrugs out of his shirt - viciously stamping down the familiar wave of self-consciousness over the unnatural skin of his right side - and sits cross-legged on the cold ground.

Sarutobi hums in confirmation, finally pocketing that damn pipe. “This seal will prevent you from moulding chakra to use ninjutsu, genjutsu, or your Sharingan. Also, if you attempt to leave Konoha without permission, it will detonate.”

“What?” Naruto shouts as Obito grits his teeth - heart taking a dive straight into his stomach. Confinement to Konoha? Somehow, he didn’t think that would be in the terms.

“I will remove the seals as soon as the exams are over,” Sarutobi says.

“And we’re just supposed to accept your word on that, old man?” Obito spits. It’s a fight to keep his hands in his lap, to keep his Sharingan and mokuton dormant.

Sarutobi’s gaze is steel. “Yes.”

Well, a voice drawls somewhere in the back of his mind. It sounds infuriatingly like Kakashi. You’ve come this far, haven’t you?

“Fine,” he says. A long exhale. The ANBU’s hands shift away from their weapons as he holds out up his arms. “Do it.”

Sarutobi steps forward and the circle flares to life - light casting faces in silhouette, bouncing off the walls and ceiling. It’s almost beautiful, but then again most sealing is. Obito’s always considered it a sort of deadly art form. And as Sarutobi’s hands land on his shoulders, he has a flash of memory: another windowless room, lit by torches, and a familiar child screaming in his arms as Minato looks at him with a mix of shock and desperate, visceral terror.

Fuck.

He swallows down a rising rush of bile, tells himself not to be sick all over the Third Hokage, and focuses on the sealing. When the pain hits - fierce and brutal and all-consuming - it’s almost welcome. He nearly bites through his tongue holding back a scream. Surely, at some point in his life, he’s weathered worse than this, but nothing is immediately coming to mind. It feels like every nerve has been lit on fire - like something vital is being torn away from him. Distantly, he can hear people shouting, but his mind is too fogged to focus on what they’re saying.

It goes on forever, it’s over in an instant, and when Sarutobi takes his hands away, Obito pitches to the side and spits blood onto the carved floor. He’s shaking all over, holding himself up on one weak arm, and he feels like he just went ten rounds with all three of the Legendary Sannin. Then there is the emptiness. A void where the forest has been for thirteen years, and his eye before that. There is a part of him missing, that’s been closed off, and he hates the sensation.

“What the hell was that? ” Naruto again, gaping from the edge of the circle.

“This isn’t-” Sasuke starts.

“We agreed to this,” Kakashi cuts them both off. “We knew there would be a price for coming back.”

“But, sensei,” Sakura says, voice shaking, “if we’d known, we wouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay, Sakura,” Obito manages to get out in spite of his dry, aching throat. “We’re … happy to pay it.”

“Don’t say that,” Naruto whispers and when Obito, with great effort, tilts his head to look up at him, there are tears welling in his blue eyes.

I held him. He can almost remember it now: the sounds of Naruto’s screams, the weight of him in his arms. I tried to kill him.

“Hey,” he says, furiously cutting off any other memories trying to form. He currently doesn’t have the strength to deal with them, so they can get in fucking line. “Chin up, brat.”

A weak smile flickers in the corner of Naruto’s mouth, and right now, it’s enough of a victory.

“We’re done,” Sarutobi announces and reaches down to help Obito stand.

By some miracle, his legs hold him long enough for him to pick up his shirt and wobble his way out of the circle. Kakashi catches him when he starts to crash to his knees again, slowly lowering him to the floor with his back against the wall.

“Guess it’s my turn,” he says and Obito squeezes his hand. Tells himself to say calm. He’s isn’t good at dealing with seeing Kakashi in pain, but here is the last place he wants to have a freak out.

The kids huddle around him: Sakura’s hand on his arm, Naruto’s fingers twined with his synthetic ones, Sasuke’s digging into his shoulder. They all look shaken and several shades too pale, but they’re strong - he’s made sure of that.

“We’ll be okay,” he murmurs to them as Kakashi also strips down to his undershirt and assumes Obito’s earlier position.

“This isn’t fair,” Sasuke hisses, leaning in closer. His fingers are twitching again - Obito can feel it through his shirt.

“Yes,” he says, thinking of Naruto, Minato’s expression, Kushina, “it is.”

Sasuke looks ready to protest, but Obito lifts a heavy arm and nudges him. “Shh.”

From the middle of the circle, Kakashi chokes on a scream, forcing it down to a pain-filled gasp that still cuts like a knife.

Don’t freak out, Obito reminds himself, even as he forces his gaze to Kakashi’s timorous shoulders, the agony in the curl of his spine. He owes it to Kakashi to watch, to share this burden as best he can. Don’t freak out.

It’s over quickly, at least. Less than a minute before Sarutobi is stepping back and the seal forms on Kakashi’s forearm - dark and intricate. Obito must have a matching one, though he hasn’t bothered to check.

“It’s done,” Sarutobi repeats and Kakashi nods. He’s wheezing a little, pain rattling through each long exhale, but he gets to his feet on his own power.

“You will be assigned temporary housing for the duration of your stay,” Sarutobi continues as Kakashi shrugs his over shirt back on. “Since we have a week before the official start of the exams, I’ll give you a day to rest and reacquaint yourselves with the village. Jounin and ANBU will be informed of your presence and that you are operating with amnesty I’ve granted.” He takes out his pipe again. Speaks through a new cloud of smoke. “Then, you’ll report to me to submit your formal recommendations for Team 7, as well as any other necessary assessments.”

“Understood,” Kakashi says, swaying slightly.

Sarutobi reaches out to steady him, expression almost fond now. Obito wants to hate it, but he’s never been able to. Not even on the night they were exiled. “It’s good to have you both here. In spite of the circumstances.” He turns to smile at the rest of Team 7. “It will be interesting to see how much your team has grown in the last year. We have quite the crop of young hopefuls. I’m sure the competition will be fierce.”

“Bring it,” Naruto says, rallying himself enough to grin. “We’re ready.”

“Hmm.” Sarutobi takes another long puff of his pipe. “You certainly seem to be.”

“Okay, this has been fun,” Obito snaps, finally losing patience. “Can we go lie down now?” It’s been thirteen years since his body experienced exhaustion on this level and it isn’t coping well. If he isn’t careful, he’ll end up passing out in the sealing chamber and have to be carried to their apartment by ANBU.

Which is an indignity he’d rather avoid.

“Of course,” Sarutobi says with a dip of his head. “Crow and Rat will escort you.”

Oh joy.

_ _

The apartment is wisely on the outskirts of the village’s residential area - the last building on a quiet street. It looks a little rundown, perhaps even mostly abandoned, but it’s far from the worst place Obito has stayed and it will be more than adequate for a month. Especially since Obito was half expecting to be told that he would be sleeping in one of Konoha’s prison cells when he wasn’t being followed by ANBU 24/7.

They’re on the top floor, in the corner. Two bedrooms and a decent-sized communal space, with a fully stocked fridge, a big enough table to seat five people, and cupboards also packed with food and dishes. There are no beds in any of the bedrooms, merely futons spaced out on the floor, but Obito doubts he would know what to do with more than a few nights in a bed anyway.

And in the middle of the kitchen table, impossible to miss, are five hitai-ate and two neatly folded jounin uniforms.

“What the hell is this?” Obito asks - his intimidating tone undercut by the fact that he has to lean on one of the chairs to keep himself upright.

“You are representing Konoha,” Crow explains, clipped. “For the duration of the exams, you are fully-fledged jounin sensei and your team are Leaf genin - you must present yourselves as such. To project unity to the other participating villages.”

“Unity,” Obito snorts with barely concealed disdain. More like a power show - two famous missing-nin coming home to serve as deterrents for any so-called ally that wants to try something.

He'd really like to throw the uniforms and hitai-ate out the fucking window. He hasn’t been a Konoha shinobi since he was thirteen - like hell he’s going to walk around in a uniform now.

You’ve come this far, the voice reminds him.

Naruto has picked up one of the hitai-ate and is turning it over in his hands, a more conflicted expression than Obito anticipated on his face. Team 7, he realizes, has gotten used to the freedom of life on the road. It will be weird for all of them to be formally tied to a village again, even if it’s supposed to be only temporary.

“Thank you,” Kakashi says to the ANBU when the crippling silence has stretched on far too long. There is a get lost in there somewhere, too, that Crow and Rat fortunately pick up on. 

And sure, they’re probably going to perch in the trees outside the whole night, but at least they leave the apartment.

“This is weird,” Naruto says after the door has clicked shut. “I didn’t expect it to be this weird.”

“Yeah,” Sasuke says, also running his fingers over the hitai-ate. “I don’t think I like being back.”

“Well, we’re here,” Obito grumbles, still gripping the chair for balance. Everything feels muted, distant. He can barely sense the rest of the team’s chakra signatures - even Kakashi’s, which he knows almost better than his own - and being cut off from his Sharingan is like a strange form of blindness. “And no one’s allowed to back out.”

“Hn, who said anything about backing out?” Sasuke fires back, gaze fierce.

“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere.”

Sakura, like the good student she is, glances back and forth between him and Kakashi. “Shouldn’t you two lie down? You look like you need rest.”

He knew Sakura was his favorite for a reason. “Yeah, probably. That was … unpleasant.”

Naruto slams a hand on the table. “And wrong! They shouldn’t … you’re our sensei. They’ve trusted you with us for a whole year! Why hurt you like that?”

“Sarutobi trusts us,” Kakashi says. “I doubt anyone else does. And he needs to reassure those people that we’re powerless.”

“It’s still stupid,” Naruto grumbles. Kakashi pats him on the head.

“Maa, don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

“But it was a warning, too, right?” Sakura asks, because she is also his smartest student by far. “To us. Our performance in the exams…”

“Reflects on you,” Sasuke finishes with a dark frown. “On whether they let us stay with you.”

“Pretty much,” Obito says. “So just … keep your heads down until the exams start, okay?”

Which won’t be easy, considering how much a stir their arrival is probably going to cause, but he trusts the brats not to be idiots (for the most part). Their determined expressions all say that they know what’s on the line here, and they’re going to do everything they can to tip the scales in their favor.

Obito might be proud of them. Just a little.

(Okay, a lot.)

“Don’t worry, sensei,” Sakura says. “We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Promise,” Naruto adds, clapping a hand over his heart.

“So go to bed,” Sasuke says, actually looking worried for them. Which means they really must look terrible.

“Not a problem,” Obito mutters and snags Kakashi’s sleeve. “C’mon, Bakakashi. I want to sleep for a week.”

By unspoken agreement, they all leave the hitai-ate to deal with tomorrow and peel off into their separate rooms. Obito, with what feels like the last of his strength, drags his futon next to Kakashi’s and crashes onto it, slinging an arm over Kakashi and shifting closer, in spite of the summer heat.

They’re both too tired to talk, so they listen to the sounds of their kids getting ready for bed: their quiet chatter, the whine of the bathroom faucet, the rustle of fabric as they crawl onto their futons.

They’re going to do okay, he believes that. They’re strong and they’re a team and he’s sure they’re going to blow everyone away when the exams start.

They’re going to do just fine, but he isn’t so sure about himself.

_ _

In spite of his exhaustion, it seems his body still needs less rest than the average human, as he wakes before dawn. He still feels close to terrible, but not like death warmed over, so that’s good progress. A quick glance confirms that Kakashi is fast asleep next to him and he can hear the rhythmic breathing of the kids from the other room, suggesting they’re out cold, too.

He doesn’t particularly want to lie around until everyone wakes up, especially with sudden restlessness skittering down his spine. Maybe this will be a good time to go - before the village rises and he risks being seen.

He leaves a note on his pillow for Kakashi and dresses silently in his own clothes, still stubbornly ignoring the uniform and hitai-ate on the table. He doesn’t want to be a Leaf shinobi for this.

The air is already warm when he steps outside and takes to the rooftops. There are two ANBU trailing him, as anticipated, but they’re keeping a respectful distance and he reaches the cemetery unhindered. It takes him longer than he wants to find Rin’s grave amidst the seemingly endless rows. (So many names, so many dead - it’s grown even in the years he’s been away, in a time of supposed peace.)

She’s on the second to last row, before the fence and the forest beyond it, and it hurts seeing her name carved into the stone. He’s done his grieving, held his own funeral, but there is a weight to standing over her physical grave that he didn’t anticipate. In this moment, he misses her enough to ache with it.

“I’m sorry,” he says ( for so many things), “that I didn’t bring flowers. Though, I doubt you really care about things like that, ne? You were too practical.”

He blinks back tears and sinks to the ground. It feels too strange to stand, peering down - like she’s too far away, even though that’s a stupid notion. There is nothing left of her here but bones and a name, and yet …

“I bet you’re surprised,” he continues, “seeing me again.” She wouldn’t have known, he realizes suddenly, that he survived. She died before he could … “I’m surprised, too. I never expected to come back here. You … you missed a lot of terrible things, Rin. Maybe that’s a blessing.” But he doesn’t want to dwell on the past and all its bleak memories. “Anyway, there have been a lot of good things, too. Me and Kakashi … well we’re.” He coughs, embarrassed by his embarrassment. “You know. Which I bet you never saw coming, ne? Don’t worry, I didn’t either. I think we’re good together, though. He’s good for me, but don’t tell him I said that. His head is big enough already.”

He sucks in a wet breath, wiping a hand across his face. “And I have students, too! Another twist. Yes, they actually let me become a jounin-sensei. Pretty sure Sandaime is crazy, but we’ve always known that, right? They’re brats, but so were we, and I’m proud of them. They’re gonna do great things. And I-”

Another breath, almost a sob. “Fuck, I miss you. It’s been half a lifetime, but I still miss you. And I hope - well, I hope that wherever you are, if you’ve seen any of it, that you forgive me. For failing you. For - for failing everyone…”

“She does,” a voice murmurs and he twists to see Kakashi standing behind him.

“How long have you been there?” he huffs and wipes his face again, trying to get rid of his blush and remaining tears. He officially hates being so cut off from his chakra. Normally, he’d be able to sense Kakashi coming from over a mile away.

“Not long,” Kakashi says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t put on the uniform, either, or the hitai-ate. “Just enough to hear that last part.”

“And you’re sure. About Rin?”

“Of course I am.” Kakashi sits next to him, their shoulders brushing. “She loved you. And I was the one that failed her.”

“We both did,” Obito says, before they can descend into this old, guilt-ridden argument. In spite of the grief still knotted inside of him, he didn’t come here to be sad. “So enough of that.”

“Maa, fine,” Kakashi says and reaches out to brush a hand over Rin’s name. “Hi, Rin. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve missed you, too. We’re a pair of idiots without you.”

Something close to a laugh escapes Obito’s mouth. “Definitely. You’ve probably spent the last thirteen years shaking your head.”

“But we’re doing all right,” Kakashi continues, with a fond glance towards Obito. “So don’t worry about us.”

“Yeah,” Obito says, all choked up again. Great. “We made it. You can relax.” He glances towards the larger memorial at the far end of the cemetery, raised on a platform and styled in a flame. “And … and if Minato-sensei or Kushina is with you, tell them I’m sorry. I’m so …” He exhales slow. “And that Naruto’s with me and I’m looking after him, I promise.”

“We both are,” Kakashi says, squeezing his shoulder. “As best we can.”

The sky is starting to lighten with the beginning of morning, and they should head back to the apartment before the sun comes up and the village rises with it, making a trek across town far more perilous.

“I’ll come visit again, Rin,” he says, uncrossing his legs and standing. “With flowers next time.” Kakashi nods and accepts Obito’s help up with a quiet sigh. Obito peers at him, frowning. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He touches the cloth covering his eye. “My Sharingan’s just gone blind.”

“Fantastic,” Obito deadpans, out of energy for an emotional reaction.

“I thought so, too,” Kakashi agrees.

“We’re doing this for the kids,” Obito says. It’s becoming a mantra.

“For the kids,” Kakashi echoes and glances down at the grave. “Hear that, Rin? We’ve turned sentimental in our old age.”

“We’re the worst,” Obito says. “You’re probably embarrassed by us.”

Kakashi laughs softly and traces Rin’s name one last time. “Ja ne.”

“We’ll be back,” Obito adds, unable to bring himself to say goodbye, even after all these years.

They leave the cemetery in companionable silence, traveling across the rooftops just like they did when they were boys. Obito almost challenges Kakashi to a race out of some long-forgotten habit. All around him are echoes of a life long gone, and he wonders how long he’ll have to stay to stop seeing them.

For now, the summer air is heavy in his lungs and the sun is rising over Konoha.

A new day beginning.

Chapter Text

Konoha. It’s only been a year and maybe this is stupid, but he didn’t expect it to look the same. Same monument, same streets, same buildings, same vendors hawking the same wares in the same marketplace. Same ramen stand that Naruto insists is the “best in the world, dattebayo!”

Even the chill in the air around the old Uchiha compound is the same.

He isn’t the same, though. He can feel that in his bones. And the teammates standing on either side of him aren’t the same, either. And maybe that’s all that matters. 

“This place is so creepy,” Naruto says, reaching out to touch a tentative hand to the shuttered gate. Sasuke hadn’t wanted to bring him, or Sakura, but they caught him in the process of climbing out the window this morning and insisted on tagging along.

Now, he has to admit that he's glad for the company on this personal, probably stupid, quest.

“Are you sure about this?” Sakura asks him.

No. “Yes.”

“And we’re not gonna get in trouble, right?” Naruto presses, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s my family’s compound,” Sasuke says, but keeps the bite out of his tone. He understands Naruto’s worry. They’re all on edge, from that bullshit sealing ritual last night, from the ANBU he can still feel following them - perched in the trees up the street. From just being back in this village in general, with all its ghosts. “There shouldn’t be a problem with me visiting it.”

Sakura cracks her knuckles, loud in the early-morning stillness. “Then let’s get this shit over with.”

Sasuke couldn’t agree more. He isn’t even sure why he’s here. Maybe to prove that this is just a place. To prove to himself that he isn’t the boy that broke here and he isn’t the boy that vowed revenge here and Uchiha is no longer the only thing that defines him. That he can just be Sasuke, and the ghosts left here will allow him that.

“Yeah,” is all he says out loud and follows Naruto and Sakura over the wall and into the street below.

The bodies are long gone, the blood washed from the walls of the buildings, but Sasuke can still smell the metallic tang it in the air.

“This reminds me of that one mansion, remember?” Naruto says, talking just to fill the silence. “That huge one we saw in Wolf? That everyone said was haunted?”

“Yeah, by the daimyo’s wife, right?” Sakura asks, brushing her fingers along a tattered Uchiha flag hanging from one of the shuttered windows.

“Wives,” Sasuke corrects on autopilot. “He had seven.”

“Yeah!” Naruto says, snapping his fingers. “That’s right. Because he killed them and then married a new one every couple of years. Man that place was so creepy.”

The women roamed the halls, the local legends said. Dressed in tattered white with their long hair in their faces, wailing for the loss of their life and their love.

“They’ll kill you,” one of the grandmothers of the village had said. “ Suck the soul straight from your chest.”

He can’t hear any wailing here, but he thinks the ghosts would be able to sink their claws deeper. Right to the bone of him.

Fingers tangle with his, cutting off his morbid thoughts. Sakura, squeezing his hand tight.

“Breathe,” she says quietly, for his ears only. “Those were just stories. The dead are dead, isn’t that what Obito-sensei’s always saying?”

“Obito says that to comfort himself,” Sasuke mutters, but Sakura is right. He came here with a point to prove and he’s going to damn well prove it.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slow, pushes the fear out with it. He isn’t the same and that’s what matters.

“Come on,” he says, letting go of Sakura’s hand after a grateful squeeze. “This way.”

They follow him to the main street, that runs right through the center of the compound, and he stops in the middle of it, next to a store will a still-broken window and another with a ripped up awning, the Uchiha symbol on it faded from red and white to a dull brown.

“It was here,” he says. If he closes his eyes, it will be night and Itachi will be standing in front of him with his blood-soaked katana in hand - a towering monster wearing his brother's skin. But he keeps them open. Reminds himself of the years that have passed, of the fact that the blood and bodies are gone. “I saw Itachi here.” He points to the spot where Itachi once stood. “He…”

And here he doesn’t know what to say. Tortured me? Is that it was? Probably, if you ask Obito.

(Underneath the underneath, Kakashi-sensei is always saying.)

“He told me to hate him,” Sasuke says. “To get stronger so that I could defeat him. I’ve always wondered what he meant by that.”

“Does he want you to defeat him?” Naruto asks. He’s got a rare solemn expression on his face, a tension in his shoulders that says he understands the weight of this, and Sasuke’s grateful for that. “It sounds like that to me.”

“But why?” Sakura says, a contemplative furrow to her brow. “Guilt? Or … maybe he thinks he’s helping you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sasuke says, surprising himself a little, by how much he means it. “That’s what I came here to … it doesn’t matter. I don’t care why, anymore. It happened and it’s over. Nothing will ever change it or erase it and so why does it matter why? I don’t want to - my life doesn’t belong to him.” He raises his voice, for the ghosts. My life doesn’t belong to you, either. “I came back here to remind myself of that. Before we start the Chuunin Exams. I’m doing this for us. ”

It might be the most he’s ever said to them at once - definitely the most vulnerable he’s allowed himself to be - but he doesn’t want to take the words back once they’re free. Team 7 needs to be a united front for this, and so Naruto and Sakura need to know these things. That coming back to Konoha won’t change him or erase the past year. That he's going to be with them every step of the way.

Naruto slings an arm across his shoulders. “We know, dobe.”

“That’s my line,” Sasuke grumbles.

“We’re with you,” Naruto continues, ignoring him. “We’re a team. But for what it’s worth - I’m sorry, Sasuke. That this happened. It’s … it sucks.”

Damn, but they’re all terrible at feelings.

Still, Naruto’s wearing an earnest expression that’s almost endearing, and that’s enough for Sasuke to say, “thanks.”

“What he said,” Sakura chimes in. “We’re with you, Sasuke. We know why you’re doing this. And I’m sorry, too.”

He just grunts this time, because there is only so much emotion he can handle in a twenty-four period and they are rapidly approaching his threshold.

“Wanna get out of here?” Naruto asks, nodding towards the wall. “This place is depressing.”

That’s putting it mildly, but. “You go on ahead. I ... there’s something I want to do. I’ll meet you at that ramen place.”

“For the last time, Ichiraku’s. ”

Sasuke shoots him a flat look. “Why do you expect me to remember that?”

Naruto just shakes his head and steps away. Both him and Sakura look reluctant to leave, which is more touching than Sasuke wants to admit.

“I’ll be fine,” he insists and that’s enough for them to finally head for the gates. He waits until he can’t feel their chakra anymore, then continues on his way - through the grid-like streets to the house that was once his.

Up the porch steps, through the ruined shōji, and here is where his parents died. Where Itachi killed them. It’s suddenly harder to breathe again.

He fishes around in his kunai pouch for the flowers he brought. Peonies. They’re a little crushed, but he scatters the petals on the floor. Here, you can still see where the blood seeped into the wood, staining it a dull red forever and -

“Fuck,” a familiar voice says behind him, “this place is worse than I thought.”

He whirls to see Obito in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets and a deep frown on his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, thrown. Obito and Kakashi had been gone when they woke up this morning, and he figures they’ve had business to attend to - paperwork for the exams or whatever. Didn’t expect to see either of them until evening.

“I mean, I was an Uchiha, too, once upon a time,” Obito says. “But I also ran into Naruto and Sakura on their way to ramen and they told me you were here.” His dark gaze turns piercing. “You’re not picking at a wound, are you?”

Sasuke shakes his head. “Closing it. Wanted to do it before the Exams start.”

Obito softens, then. Glances around at the ordinary-looking room. “I’ve always hated this place. Ever since I was a kid.”

“I want to burn it,” Sasuke confesses. “I wish Konoha would let us.”

Obito shrugs. “I’m already a missing-nin. Between us I think we’d have enough fire jutsu. We can keep the option open for after the exams.”

Sasuke actually cracks a smile at the idea. What a send-off that would be. “Sounds good to me.”

“For now, I suggest we get the fuck out of here.”

Another suggestion that Sasuke can get behind. He’s said his goodbyes, many times already, and though he feels sad here, in what has become a massive mausoleum, he no longer feels chained by it. He can leave and not look back. Throw himself into the future, once and for all.

“Yeah,” he says with a sharp nod. “Let’s go.”

Out on the street, Obito stops him. “Ah, I’ve been told to ask you - do you want to wear the Uchiha symbol for the Chuunin Exams? Sandaime said he’d allow it.”

“No,” Sasuke says almost immediately. That’s an easy choice. He’s here to compete as a member of Team 7, not an Uchiha. “I don’t.”

Obito seems relieved, though he doesn’t give voice to it. Merely nods and gestures for Sasuke to follow him. “Then let’s get some ramen.”

The sun is fully up now, reflecting bright off the Hokage monument. A part of Sasuke blanches at the idea of ramen for breakfast, but the rest of him is glad that he now has someone to eat breakfast with. And Naruto is going to try to wheedle Obito into paying for everything, which is always hilarious.

“Lead the way,” he says and together they leave the Uchiha compound behind.

_ _

There are rumors swirling around the village. They started a week ago, when Asuma-sensei told Kurenai-sensei that apparently Team 7 and their new, mysterious sensei are returning to Konoha to take the Chuunin Exams, and have spread like wildfire ever since.

Everyone is trying to act unaffected, including her idiot teammates, but she knows they’re seething with the same curiosity underneath their nonchalant facades. All of the rookie teams are. (Though, really, how are they rookies when they’ve been genin for a whole year, already? That hardly seems fair.)

Team 7 literally vanished in the night last year, right after coming back from Wave Country. They weren’t even present for Ebisu-sensei’s funeral, and Ino has thought about them more than she’s wanted to in the months since. Why did they leave so suddenly? Why were they assigned some former ANBU operative instead of another jounin sensei? Why did Sakura get to be the one to spend a whole year alone on the road with Sasuke-kun? And would they ever come back?

At least one of those questions has been answered, though. According to the gossip mill, Team 7 arrived last night - quiet and under the cover of darkness - same way they left.

And Ino might be spending her morning out in the village, trying to catch a glimpse of them. She ditched Shikamaru and Chouji at the training grounds, not wanting to deal with their teasing or their apathy. And sure, she should perhaps be practicing for the Exams that kick off in three days, but she just. She has to know okay? It’s been a whole fucking year and she’s dying.

They must be lying low, though, because she’s been wandering for two hours and she hasn’t seen them. Konoha is a big village, true, but she’d be able to pick out Sasuke from a crowd anywhere and Forehead Girl’s hair remains distinctive, as well as that idiot Naruto - always running around in orange, of all colors.

She’s about to admit defeat and skulk back to the training grounds - she will see them once the Exams start, after all, this is stupid - when she sees a flash of familiar pink at one of the nearby market stalls. She turns her head, fast, and … is that … Sakura?

It can’t be, is her first thought. This girl’s pink hair is cropped short as a boy’s and the usual red dress is nowhere to be seen - replaced with a pair of ugly (sensible) black pants and a green sleeveless shirt. When the girl turns her head, those are Sakura’s green eyes, but they’re set in a face that is sharper than Ino remembers. Harder. Older, even. She's got lean muscle definition that definitely wasn't there when she left and she’s sporting sleeveless gloves on her hands - a Konoha hitai-ate tied around her arm.

She looks … cool. Badass. Like a real kunoichi, even, and Ino has no idea how to absorb this.

Before she can decide if she wants to approach or flee, a voice shouts “oi, Sakura-chan!” and gods that can’t be Naruto, can it?

He’s got orange stripes on the sleeves of his shirt, but everything else is black - shirt, pants, the shinobi sandals on his feet. He looks older, too - like he’s aged more in the last year than Ino or any of the other academy graduates have - and he’s in the process of tying a hitai-ate on. His hair, at least, is still as riotous and yellow as always.

“Does this feel weird?” he asks Sakura, adjusting the forehead protector. “This feels super weird, right? Why do we wear these things? They’re really uncomfortable.”

He still talks too much, but he isn’t nearly as loud as he used to be, and Sakura isn’t yelling at him. Rolling her eyes, yes, but she’s got a fond smile on her face, too.

(This must be some kind of genjutsu. That’s the only explanation.)

“Then wear it around your arm or something, baka.”

Naruto huffs. Adjusts the hitai-ate again. “Nah. I think it looks more badass like this.”

Sakura shakes her head, but moves past him. She’s got a bag slung over one shoulder, and she’s selecting vegetables from one of the stalls. It looks like she’s done this a thousand times, as she tests each one to determine ripeness, and Ino is once again struck by how confidently she moves now.

She even carries herself like a kunoichi, whereas before she constantly vacillated between brash overconfidence and shy insecurity.

Ino is so caught up in these startling differences, in Naruto and Sakura slipping into casual conversation like they’re actually friends, that she almost misses Sasuke-kun when he approaches. And he’s changed, too, though in a less obvious way. He seems … more relaxed, almost? In his spine, the lines of his shoulders, the openness of his expression. Ino is used to a Sasuke who is aloof and cold, not one who sighs at Naruto and helps him fix his hitai-ate, shifting the vegetables he’s holding so he can reach up and settle the tie in a better position on the back of Naruto’s head.

His own forehead protector is tied around his arm like Sakura’s and Naruto frowns when he sees it. “Oh c’mon, you’re doing the arm thing, too? Was there a meeting I missed where we agreed on the arm thing?”

Sasuke-kun shrugs. “It looks better like this.”

Naruto glances back and forth between them for a moment and then yanks the hitai-ate off his head, swearing under his breath as he also ties it around his arm. Sakura and Sasuke trade an amused glance with each other, a full year of knowing behind it, and Ino…

Ino’s feet are frozen to the ground. She feels like the whole world has tilted on its axis as she tries to process that a) Sakura doesn’t love Sasuke-kun anymore, not liked she used to and b) Team 7 are a team. A real team, Naruto included, who carry themselves like shinobi.

She’s looking at three complete strangers and that’s …

She turns and flees before any of them can spot her, choosing a direction at random - she’ll wind up back at the training grounds eventually. She needs time to think first. About the fact that, compared to Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke-kun, she doesn’t think she’s changed much in the last year, if at all. She knows a few more skills than she did at graduation, sure, but overall life has been quiet. Maybe it was stupid, but she believed that life was quiet for Sakura, too.

And not only was she wrong, but she gets the sense that somehow, Sakura has surpassed her, and she isn’t quite sure how to feel about that yet. How to deal with the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She walks faster, determined now, to hunt down her lazy excuses for teammates and start whipping them into shape. She doesn’t care if her and Forehead Girl are not longer rivals for Sasuke-kun’s affection - she still isn’t going to be defeated.

_ _

After sending their restless genin on a grocery supply run for dinner tonight (he refuses to eat at Ichiraku’s for the entirety of their stay in Konoha, no matter how good it is), Kakashi steels himself and dresses in the jounin uniform that’s still sitting on the table. The vest is heavier than he expected - bulky instead of the sleek ones favored by the ANBU - but the hitai-ate slants easily back over his eye, bringing a host of memories with it that he instantly tamps down on.

It’s just a uniform and now isn’t the time for dwelling or existential angst or any of the shit his brain wants to throw at him.

He doesn’t bother looking at himself in the mirror as he adjusts his gloves and double checks that his kunai pouch is strapped on correctly (a useless action, really, since him and Obito currently aren’t allowed weapons of any kind). He can’t stall any longer than that, though, as much as he wants to turn around, climb back into bed, and not emerge until the Exams are over.

Obito is waiting for him in the main room, grimacing down at his own jounin uniform. It looks weird on him, Kakashi decides. Green’s never really been his color and his hair sticks up even more with the hitai-ate holding it back. He’s put his customary patch over his eye instead of slanting his forehead protector like Kakashi has and he’s patting the pockets on the front of the vest, grumbling to himself about how “fucking difficult ” they are to unclasp.

“You look like an idiot,” Kakashi announces, just to see Obito glower up at him instead.

“So do you, Hatake.”

Kakashi nods. “Good, now that we’ve established that, should we go? We’re going to be late.”

“Are you really worried about that?” Obito asks, still frowning.

“Considering our currently precarious position in this village - somewhat.”

Obito sighs in resignation and adjusts the sleeves of his shirt. Per unspoken agreement, they’ve both rolled them up to their elbows, keeping the matching seals on their arms visible. Hopefully that will deter anyone from starting shit, but Kakashi isn’t very hopeful.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

This being a trip to mission headquarters to submit their team’s application for the exams. A formality, really, but one all jounin sensei are required to go through, which means all of their peers will be there, as well.

In one room.

Armed.

Probably to the teeth.

Like ripping off a bandage, Kakashi thinks as they lock the apartment door behind them. Obito gives a cheerful salute to the ANBU concealed in the trees, pinpointing their location exactly if the rustling is any indicator.

(For the thousandth time in his life, Kakashi’s glad for the mask that hides the smirk currently overtaking his mouth.)

They keep their heads down after they leave the house, though, sticking to shadows and side streets. No doubt rumors are spreading already (things are rarely secret for long in a village of nosy shinobi), and Kakashi would at least like to make it to the start of the Exams without any incidents.

(He misses his katana. A lot.)

He’s probably being melodramatic, though. Or overly paranoid. It’s been thirteen years, they’ve stayed largely off of Konoha’s radar during that time, mostly confining themselves to the far reaches of the continent - away from the conflicts of hidden villages in general. Apart from an entry in a Bingo Book, there’s been little cause for Konoha to pay them any attention. Maybe they’ve been forgotten? Maybe no one cares that they’re here at all.

(Ha.)

Either way, they’re about to find out, because here are the doors to mission headquarters - familiar and unassuming. Obito pauses in front of them and blows out a long breath.

“We’re going to be fine,” he says with a confidence it doesn’t sound like he feels.

“Yeah,” Kakashi echoes, mostly on reflex. They’ve been “fine” after dozens of terrifying situations over the last decade, why should that change now?

Obito still reaches over to squeeze his hand, quick and reassuring. Then, he’s squaring his shoulders, using every inch of his formidable height, and throwing open the doors.

Like ripping off a bandage, Kakashi repeats to himself as a hush immediately descends over the room and multiple heads turn in their direction. Like ripping off a bandage.

The quiet extends - settles and presses in. He carefully doesn’t look at anyone’s face for too long, though he catches a glimpse of Asuma (is that a beard?) and Kurenai in his peripheral. Obito looks ready to fight the whole goddamn room if he has to and Kakashi scrambles to come up with something to cut the rapidly mounting tension.

A joke? A reassurance? A -

Someone shoulders their way to the front of the small crowd. The first thing Kakashi registers is green, an overwhelming amount of it, and then a terrifyingly familiar voice booms, “KAKASHI, MY ETERNAL RIVAL, YOU HAVE RETURNED TO ME.”

He blinks, trying to get his bearings as the green thing launches itself at him and he’s suddenly being slammed against a broad chest - long arms wrapped around his torso and fingers digging into the back of his vest.

Someone is hugging me, his brain finally registers. It quickly reevaluates to: Gai is hugging me.

Then several realizations hit at once: Gai is hugging me, someone let Gai become a jounin, someone let Gai become a JOUNIN SENSEI - and his poor brain gives up in horror after that.

It doesn’t matter because Gai is shaking him. And possibly weeping into his shoulder. And still yelling about how he knew Kakashi wouldn’t stay away forever, that eventually their eternal rivalry would continue … and panic sets in a little because Gai is not letting go. He tries to twist around to signal Obito for help, but the bastard is just gaping uselessly at him, looking like he can’t decide if this is greatest or most disturbing thing he’s seen in his life.

Not the first impression I wanted to make, Kakashi thinks wryly. But maybe the most harmless one.

“Gai,” he finally croaks out, “I can’t breathe.”

Gai mercifully releases him, wiping at his face as he steps back, and gods he looks. Exactly the same. Right down to the spandex. Literally the only change is the jounin vest (how in all hells did that happen?) he’s wearing over said spandex.

The sight of him is … far more welcome than Kakashi would like to admit.

“Hello, Gai,” he says, keeping his voice as even as possible, and shoves his hands in his pockets, trying to adopt the relaxed pose he vaguely remembers pissing Gai off and prompting many declarations of how “hip” and “cool” he was.

“Rival Kakashi!” Gai replies, a little more subdued now, but still at booming volume. “Still as hip and cool as ever, I see.”

“And you’re still as … enthusiastic.”

“Yosh, of course! One must stay youthful if you are conveying the importance of youth and hard work to others.”

“Right.” Kakashi glances around the room and notices that the tension has lessened considerably - almost to the point of nonexistence - and Asuma (that is definitely a beard, gods) and Kurenai are cautiously drifting over, apparently put at ease by Gai’s display.

Thank you, Gai, Kakashi thinks and vows to buy him a drink later, when Gai inevitably drags him out to get one.

Obito drifts closer, too. Whispers in his ear, “eternal rivals?”

“I’ll explain later,” Kakashi murmurs back, wanting to save that embarrassment for behind closed doors because Obito is going to laugh at him. Possibly forever.

Asuma stops in front of them before Obito can reply. He’s got a cigarette between his teeth, instead of the dango stick Kakashi remembers, and he’s now tall and broad-shouldered in a way his diminutive father could only have dreamed of. His eyes are darker, too - some of the bright-eyed youthfulness gone. His wasn’t taken by the war (Sarutobi kept his only son as far away from the front lines as possible), but thirteen years of missions will do the job almost as efficiently.

Still, his grin is as crooked as it’s always been and he offers it without any trepidation. “Kakashi, long time no see.”

“Asuma,” Kakashi says with a dip of his head. “It’s been a long time.”

Asuma returns the nod of greeting and glances over Kakashi’s shoulder to Obito. “Uchiha.”

“Sarutobi,” Obito returns without much warmth. “And I haven’t been an Uchiha in a long time.”

Asuma scoffs around his cigarette. “You’ve still got those creepy eyes, don’t you? You’re an Uchiha.”

“And you’re just as charming as your father,” Obito fires back.

Kakashi shifts forward to intervene, but Kurenai beats him to it, inserting herself between the two men without batting an eye. (Yuhei Kurenai’s never been afraid of much, from what Kakashi can remember.) “Not here, boys,” she says, tone sharp with disapproval.

“Sorry,” Asuma mutters, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Obito grumbles, sounding far less apologetic. Kakashi elbows him and earns himself a glare in response.  

Gai, he notices, has been uncharacteristically quiet, observing the proceedings. He’s always been far more perceptive than most people give him credit for, Kakashi knows. Was one of the only ones who could see the true depth of the darkness eating Kakashi alive in the ANBU.

He wonders now, what Gai sees when he looks at him and Obito, and if he even wants to know.

“Shall we get this over with?” Obito asks, nodding towards the desk where a steady stream of jounin from multiple villages (Kakashi counts Kusa, Suna, Ame, Taki, and Oto) are turning in scrolls to a handful of harried chuunin.

Surprisingly, it’s Asuma that takes a deep drag of his cigarette and says, “yeah, as quickly as possible.”

Seems someone dislikes paperwork as much as his father, too. (Kakashi isn’t surprised.)

None of the chuunin manning the desk are Umino Iruka, which Kakashi is thankful for - nowhere near remotely ready to be grilled about Naruto by an overprotective former teacher - and they only glare a little bit when Kakashi hands over his team's papers, relaxing at the sight of the binding seal on his arm. For his part, Kakashi valianty resists the urge to make a dry quip about not being the boogeyman, surprise! His normal defense mechanisms will more than likely backfire here.

Spectacularly.

Thankfully, his nerves settle a little when they’re back outside in the heat of the summer air.

“They do not make these things breathable,” Obito gripes, tugging on his vest again.

A hand claps on Kakashi’s shoulder hard enough to sway him sideways. “Rival Kakashi, you must come get a drink with us! We have so much to catch up on!”

Right. Yes. He saw this coming and he also doesn’t see a way out of it. It’s probably a good idea, anyway, forming alliances with their fellow jounin sensei, trying to make sure good will towards them extends beyond the Hokage. And, separate from his strategizing, a part of him that he doesn’t really want to acknowledge is curious: about how Konoha’s been, how his ex-comrades have been, what kind of students they’re teaching now.

He glances at Obito, arched eyebrow asking what do you think?

Obito shrugs. Nods. Kakashi turns back to the others.

“Maa, one drink,” he agrees and winces at the arm Gai slings across his shoulders.

“That’s the spirit, Kakashi! Good to see you're still embracing your youthfulness!”

Eternal rivals? Obito mouths, eye dancing with amusement.

Kakashi glares. Later.

And with that, Gai drags him off towards a very familiar bar, the others trailing behind.

Kakashi suppresses a sigh. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

Chapter Text

“So you really can’t tell us anything?”

Naruto’s been asking that question for the past three days, and the answer’s always the same.

“Nope,” Kakashi says, leaning back in his chair. “The exams change every year.”

(He ate dinner earlier, the bastard, meaning that attempt number forty-seven to see under the mask was also a failure.)

“And even if we could,” Obito adds around a mouthful of rice, “we wouldn't. Part of the whole test is you brats figuring it out on your own.”

“I wasn’t asking for, like, answers or anything,” Naruto insists. He’s full of nervous energy, tapping his chopsticks against the table in a fast rhythm, and Sakura resists the urge to reach over and smack him. “Just some general stuff. Like how many parts to it there are and the elements. One on one matches? Survival tests? Ugh, there aren’t written tests are there?”

“Exams usually have written tests,” Sasuke points out.

Naruto groans.

“We’re still not telling you,” Kakashi says, eye curving in amusement.

“Bastard-sensei,” Naruto grumbles. “ You’re always the one telling us to gather intel ahead of time.”

He does have a point, Sakura can admit. She’s been itching with curiosity, too, ever since they decided to take the Exams. They’re rumored to be brutal, from what she’s read and the snippets of gossip she’s overheard around the village, and not a lot of people pass. But she figures, lack of intel or not, they still probably stand a good chance. She’s also been trying to observe fellow genin teams and some of them look so green it’s painful.

“We have intel, though,” she says now, setting aside her empty bowl. (It was really weird, using a stove to cook instead of a campfire.) “Sure, we don’t know what the exams are going to be like, exactly, but we’ve seen some of the competition.”

“Not much on the other Konoha teams,” Sasuke says, and that’s partially their own fault. They’ve all been avoiding their former classmates, nervous about how awkward reunions might be. “But I don’t think Kusa stands much of a chance. Taki, either.”

“Watch out for Oto,” Obito says grimly. “We don’t know much about that village and that’s usually cause for concern.”

“They’re creepy as fuck, too,” Naruto mutters. “Saw them in the market the other day and it gave me chills.”

“Suna has the most teams besides us,” Sakura points out. She may or may not have been keeping a tally of teams in her notebook. So far she’s counted only one from Oto, three from Kusa, two from Taki, two from Ame, and five from Suna, though there are supposedly over a hundred genin entered so she's only gotten a small glimpse. “And I’ve heard, um, rumors? About one of them.”

“Sabaku no Gaara,” Sasuke mutters, because he had been with her when they overheard a team from Suna whispering about him - how bloodthirsty and brutal he’s supposed to be. “I think we’re really gonna need to watch out for him.”

“Is that the guy who supposedly likes killing people?” Naruto asks. At their nods, he frowns. “I saw him this morning. At least, I think it was him? Short, red hair, definitely a killing aura. He was just walking in the village with his teammates and they seemed … afraid of him. Yeah, definitely scared of him. And I couldn’t really sense much but his chakra … it felt … like evil. Like really super evil. And not normal?” His face scrunches up and he shrugs. “I dunno, but I think there’s something off about him.”

“Do you know anything?” Sakura asks her two idiot sensei, because they’re doing that thing where they talk at each other with their faces.

Obito sighs, scratching his cheek. “Just rumors.”

“So tell us,” Sasuke says with a glare.

“There's speculation that he might be a jinchuuriki,” Kakashi says.

What? A jinchuuriki? Like Naruto? That doesn’t seem right.

Next to her, Naruto starts. “Wait? Like me? My chakra doesn’t feel like that. ”

Kakashi shrugs. “Like I said it’s just speculation. He may not be. We just know that Suna has one of the nine and he’s the Kazekage’s son. Might make him a good candidate.”

“Who would do that to their own son, though?” Naruto mutters and he misses Kakashi and Obito’s flinch but Sakura doesn’t.

She almost presses them on it - that fleeting guilt - but now doesn’t seem the time. They need to focus on the Exams. Which start tomorrow morning, gods.

“Well he’s at the top of our list, either way,” Sasuke says, nudging Naruto. The motion seems to startle Naruto out of the strange quiet he’d fallen into and he nods, grinning at Sasuke.

“And Oto,” Sakura adds.

“Definitely Oto,” Naruto agrees. “Did you see that guy with bandages?” He shudders.

Obito claps his hands together. “Good, it sounds like you’re approaching this well. Now go get some fucking sleep. It’s gonna be a long couple days, that much I can tell you.”

“Hey, Obito-sensei, we’ve never asked, how did your Chuunin Exams go?” Naruto asks.

Kakashi snorts and Obito’s eye widens. Interesting.

“Yeah,” Sakura jumps in. “What were your Exams like, sensei?”

“Well…” Obito mutters, scratching the back of his head.

“Let’s see,” Kakashi begins with incredible glee. “First, he was so late to the second part that we were almost disqualified.”

“Kakashi-” Obito protests, but is ignored.

“Then, he choked on a piece of candy trying to do Great Fireball and got knocked out in one hit by Maito Gai.”

“Oh my god that was Gai? ” Obito half-shouts. “Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“Then,” Kakashi continues, ticking off a third finger, “he got distracted during one on one battles and got knocked out in one hit again, also by Gai.”

“Fucking hell,” Obito grumbles, raking an agitated hand through his hair.

“Does that about sum it up?” Kakashi asks innocently.

“To be fair, I hadn’t awakened my Sharingan yet,” Obito mutters, still rubbing the back of his head.

“I didn’t have a Sharingan either, baka,” Kakashi points out. “And I passed with flying colors.”

“Because you’re a fucking prodigy, asshole. The Sharingan’s just made you even more annoying.”

“You really … choked on a piece of candy?” Sasuke asks, sounding amazed. Sakura can relate. Uchiha Obito is the most powerful shinobi she’s ever seen, potentially the most powerful shinobi alive, and she cannot wrap her mind around the idea of him getting taken out in one hit by anything, let alone another ninja.

Obito just sighs, glaring daggers up at the ceiling. “I was kind of a loser back then, okay? If anything my story should be an inspiration.”

“Or just reassuring,” Sakura says, trying to hide a smile at his obvious embarrassment. “I think we’d actually have to try to fail that hard.”

“Like really try,” Naruto agrees with a snicker.

“Now we know, though,” Sasuke says, sporting a huge smirk. “Don’t bring candy to the Exams.”

“Oi, go the fuck to sleep, brats,” Obito huffs, shooing them towards one of the bedrooms. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

He is right about that, so they let the teasing go and obediently head in the direction of the bedroom. After Sakura has stripped down to her underwear - no longer embarrassed after months in close proximity to her teammates - and pulled the covers over herself, in spite of the summer heat, she realizes that sleep is probably going to be a long time coming.

She’s nervous about tomorrow, about what the Exams might bring, but even more than that she’s excited. Because she knows they can handle it. They’ve handled S-ranked missing nin and murderous bandits and fucking Swamp Country. She’s nearly lost both her teammates on missions and Kakashi-sensei, as well. Has come close to death herself more times than she’d like to count and emerged on the other side still swinging.

They’ve got this, and maybe a small, petty part of her is looking to prove herself. To show that she’s a fucking kunoichi and not the shy Forehead Girl that had a massive, embarrassing crush on Uchiha Sasuke - cared more about her stupid hair and appearance than being a shinobi. That girl is long gone, and Haruno Sakura is here to kick ass and take names.

Just you wait.

“Hey, Sakura-chan,” Naruto whispers from her left. “We’re gonna rock this, right?”

“Of course we are, dobe,” Sasuke answers from her right.

“They won’t know what hit them,” Sakura agrees.

“Heh,” Naruto says with a mischievous laugh. “Can’t wait to see the looks on all of their faces.”

And okay, Sakura realizes, maybe she isn’t the only one with something to prove. Naruto was dead last at the Academy and ridiculed from all sides. No one even thought he would become a shinobi, and now here he is - ready to defy them all.

“Yeah,” Sakura says, reaching over to squeeze Naruto’s hand in the dark. “We’re gonna be amazing.”

_ _

The next morning comes too quick. After a night of restless sleep, Sakura is up before the sun, making breakfast in the kitchen. Kakashi, predictably, is also awake, cradling a cup of tea that he has yet to drink out of (bastard, she’ll get him one day). He’s not wearing his hitai-ate or jounin vest and she’s weirdly glad for it. He looks more like her sensei this way - with his bangs hanging in his eyes and a plain shirt free of village symbols.

“Sakura,” he says quietly, when she sits down with her bowl of porridge, leaving the rest on the stove for when the other two wake. “You know you’re the leader of this team, right?”

Sakura blinks because no, she hadn’t known that. She’d always just assumed it was Sasuke, with all of his genius and his Kekkei Genkai.

Kakashi gives her a rueful look. “You are. The other two - they listen to you and you balance them out well.” His mismatched eyes curve up. “Leadership isn’t about who’s the most powerful. So look out for them, yeah? I have a feeling you’re gonna be the one who gets Team 7 through this.” He laughs, faint, and shakes his head. “It’s the only reason I suggested that you brats take the Exams. I knew you’d keep the other two in line.”

Sakura fights the urge to gape at him. Kakashi has always been good at encouraging them where they need it and mentioning when he thinks they do well, but this level of praise is uncharacteristic.

“Why … why are you telling me this, sensei?”

He shrugs. “Maa, because I think you need to hear it. You still think yourself less than them sometimes. Not as vital. And that isn’t true, especially now.”

Well.

She bites her lip and nods, trying to keep the pleased blush off her face. (Curse her skin for always turning red at the slightest provocation.) “Thanks, Kakashi-sensei. I’ll make sure they don’t do anything too stupid.”

Kakashi raises his cup of tea to her in a silent toast and she hides her smile in her porridge. The following quiet is comfortable, pleasant, but the cacophony when everyone else wakes up and crowds into the kitchen for breakfast is welcome, too.

Her noisy, ridiculous family. She's glad she has them. 

_ _

Okay, so, after so much build up, having to walk to a classroom is admittedly a little … anticlimactic. Naruto hates classrooms. They’re boring and stuffy and nothing good happens in them. Also fuck, he knew there was going to be a written portion, and he still majorly sucks at those, so he just hopes desperately that he doesn’t fail their team in the first round just because he’s so bad at taking tests. It’s not like he doesn’t know stuff. He does! It’s just hard to sort it out when it’s written in a complicated question - and the questions are always way more complicated than they need to be. He suspects teachers do that to torture their students.

But fine, whatever. He’ll power through the written part and then maybe they’ll get to the real stuff. Where he can really prove he’s not an idiot anymore - was never one to begin with, actually. (It’s just easier, right? To act a little dumb, a little less threatening. People aren’t as inclined to attack you if they believe you’re too stupid to be up to anything. He’d rather haven been the village's idiot prankster than their kept monster.)

There’s a small crowd gathered around the classroom when they arrive, along with a kid in - is that green spandex? Wow. And a Hyuuga, interesting. Plus two guys guarding the door to the classroom, and like, a really obvious genjutsu. Naruto’s not the best at genjutsu, but even he can tell this is the second floor, not the third. The bullies at the front of the class are spouting shit about weeding out the weaklings and how people die or become permanently disabled taking this Exam and it’s probably meant to be intimidating, but really Naruto hears worse from Obito-sensei on a regular morning, not to mention during actual training sessions, so he tunes it out.

They all agreed that they’d lie low through this part - get a handle on their competition, especially their old classmates. Naruto knows there’s a certain degree of mystery surrounding them now, since they vanished last year without a word, and so most of the Konoha teams are gonna be watching them closely. No need to draw even more attention to themselves.

Still, no one seems to be doing anything about the genjutsu - not even the Hyuuga (is he lying low, too?) - so Sasuke finally steps forward and asks them to undo it.

They seem surprised - which, wow, this bar is kinda low, isn’t it? - but they release it and sure enough, the classroom number changes from 301 to 201.

“Well not bad,” says the guy with spiky hair and bandages on his face, “but all you’ve done is catch on, right?”

And then he’s moving into a fighting stance, twisting a leg to kick Sasuke, and he’s fast, but they’re all used to Obito now so Sasuke dodges easily, darting to the side so that Bandages’s leg just cuts through empty air.

“I don’t want to fight,” Sasuke says, frowning. “I just want to get to the third floor.”

Bandages just snorts and moves to attack again, but suddenly, in a blur movement, Spandex is between him and Sasuke, arm out to stop the second kick.

“Fast,” Sakura mutters next to him, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Naruto agrees. And strong. The chakra in his arms in insane. Plus the rest of him is just … a lot. The bushiest eyebrows Naruto’s ever seen and a bowl cut and gods the spandex. Why did everyone berate him for running around in orange when there was another genin apparently wearing that?

Sakura makes a noise of agreement and Naruto can practically see the gears in her head turning, moving Spandex up on her assembled list of other competitors. The Hyuuga and a kunoichi that must be his teammates are talking now, mentioning that he was the one who didn’t want to attract attention. Which means he was faking it before with that punch. Interesting.

He glances over at Sasuke, who still looks mostly baffled by this random turn of events, and they trade shrugs. The bullies have vanished - were probably part of a test by the instructors, anyway (teachers are always mean with things like that) - and now Spandex is approaching Sakura and oh gods is he blushing?

“My name is Rock Lee,” he announces and really, sure it is, Naruto somehow wasn’t expecting anything less. “And you’re Sakura, right?”

Sakura arches an eyebrow at him. And then he honest-to-gods does a thumbs up and winks and both of those things are horrifying. “Please go out with me! I’ll protect you until I die!”

Fucking hell. Naruto bites his lip to keep a snort of laughter inside, both at the ridiculousness of this and the way Sasuke’s mouth has fallen open over Spandex’s shoulder. As for Sakura, he can tell that it’s just their promise to fly under the radar that is keeping her from punching Rock Lee into next year. Maybe even the next decade. No one in their right mind would think that Haruno Sakura needs protecting but a) Spandex doesn’t seem to be in his right mind and b) she does kind of look non-threatening if you don’t know her. Naruto thinks it’s the pink hair. (Not that he would ever tell her that.)

“Absolutely not,” Sakura snaps and Rock Lee slumps down in disappointment like he actually thought he had a chance.

Naruto doesn’t bother to hide a bark of laughter this time. This is just too ridiculous, even for him.

Of course, the Hyuuga chooses that moment to march up to Sasuke and demand that he identify himself, and ah, here comes the grandstanding they were expecting. Even though Sasuke doesn’t have the clan symbol on him anywhere, everyone is still going to know he’s an Uchiha - the last Uchiha - and want to test themselves against him. It’s something Obito warned them about, but they would have expected it, anyway. And once upon a time, it would have infuriated Naruto - that everything is always about Sasuke, that Sasuke is the first person their fellow shinobi notice - but he’s learned to see the advantage of it. Both him and Sakura get constantly underestimated and that’s … convenient. Plus he knows how much it irritates Sasuke, being judged for his clan name and not any of his own personal merits.

Which is why Sasuke just crosses his arms and says, “when asking someone his name, you give your own name first.”

The Hyuuga ignores that. (Are all Hyuuga this rude? Naruto doesn’t remember Hinata being like this, though his Academy days can be a little fuzzy sometimes.) “You’re a rookie, right? How old are you?”

“I don’t have to answer that,” Sasuke insists, moving his hands to his pockets, posture purposefully relaxed (an echo of Kakashi's lazy confidence), and the Hyuuga’s glower deepens.

“Enough of this circus,” Sakura snaps, finally losing her patience. “Let’s go.”

Sasuke gives the Hyuuga his trademark smirk (which still works on Naruto sometimes, much to his frustration. It’s just so punchable.) and saunters back over to them.

“I can’t believe he asked you out,” Naruto snickers as they head for the third floor. “And you said no!”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Sakura grumbles, hands still flexing at her sides like she wants to punch something. “I signed up for survival tests and shit, not propositions. ”

“He’s crazy, but he’s strong,” Sasuke comments mildly. “The Hyuuga, too.”

“I know. I moved him up the list,” Sakura agrees with a wave of her hand. “Doesn’t mean I have to date him. I can’t believe-”

“Hey!” a familiar voice shouts, from somewhere above them. “Wait a minute!”

“Are you fucking serious,” Sakura snarls, whirling around. Naruto turns, too, and sure enough, there is Spandex on the balcony above them - a serious look on his face again.

“Uchiha Sasuke,” he says, leaping over the balcony and landing in a graceful crouch. “Fight with me!”

Sasuke blinks. “Now?”

Rock Lee slides into a taijutsu stance. “Yes. I want to test out how effective my techniques will be against the descendant of a clan reputed for genius ninjas.”

Sasuke sighs and right now, he looks a lot like Obito. “You shouldn’t want to fight me just because I’m an Uchiha,” he says.

“I’ll fight him,” Sakura grumbles under her breath and Naruto has to fight down a smile.

Sasuke shoves his hands in the pockets of his black pants. “Clan name isn’t everything, you know. Just because I’m an Uchiha doesn’t mean I’m automatically a genius. Or even have my Sharingan.”

Oh man, if Obito could hear this. Naruto vows to tell him later - just how much Sasuke’s actually taken his teachings to heart. Meanwhile, Rock Lee is frowning at him, clearly not expecting this answer.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Sasuke continues with a shrug. “I could be far weaker than you, and that wouldn’t be a challenge at all. Sakura could actually be much stronger than me. Or Naruto. But you haven’t paid them any attention. Shouldn’t you wait for the Exams and decide then if you want to fight me? Wouldn’t it be more of an actual challenge if you know what I’m like as a shinobi, instead of just assuming things because of my clan name?”

He shrugs again. “And besides, I don’t want to fight you, so I’m gonna say no, anyway. You’re wasting your time, Bushy Brows.”

A smile ticks in the corner of Rock Lee’s mouth and he straightens. “You do make a good point, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a match for me. I’m the strongest of the Konoha genin.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sasuke says, and smirks. “You should just remember, we’re not really Konoha genin.”

“Even though you’re wearing our hitai-ate?” Spandex points at the one tied around Sasuke’s arm.

Sasuke shrugs again. “Formality.”

“Interesting.” Spandex bows. “I look forward to competing against you in the Exams, Uchiha Sasuke.” He turns his gaze to Sakura, blush rising on his cheeks again. “And Sakura….”

“Don’t even dare,” Sakura snaps. “Or I’ll take you up on that offer and I will win.”

Lee slumps. “You don’t have be so harsh….”

“That’s her going easy on you, trust me,” Naruto pipes up.

“We’re going to be late,” Sasuke points out and Lee straightens again, expression once more serious and way too intense. The eyebrows really just make it worse.

“You’re right, I should rejoin my team. Please prepare yourself for the Exams, Uchiha Sasuke.”

“You, too,” Sasuke says and they all watch Lee vault back up onto the balcony, as nimble and fast as he arrived.

“Maybe you should have fought him,” Naruto suggests in the faintly stunned silence left behind. “We could’ve learned a lot.”

Sasuke shakes his head. “That would’ve been breaking the rules.”

“Which will reflect badly on Obito and Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura says, finally unclenching her fists.

“Right, don’t want that.” He’d forgotten for a moment, about the seals on Obito and Kakashi’s arms and the fact that they’re here not just to prove themselves, but to show that Obito and Kakashi can be trusted to continue teaching them in the future. “Good call, then, Sasuke.”

“He believed what he was saying,” Sasuke mutters as they continue up the stairs, “about being the strongest. That kind of confidence usually has skill behind it.”

“Like I said, I’ve moved him up the list. Right next to Oto and Sabaku no Gaara.”

“This exam is full of monsters,” Sasuke says with a faint laugh.

Naruto’s never liked that word, but he knows what Sasuke means. Lee might look ridiculous, but there is a lot of power backing him up. And Gaara - Naruto would rather not think about Gaara and the way his teammates cowered around him. And they’re scary themselves, he knows that, too. They’ve grown a lot in the past year, overcome a lot and fought a lot of powerful things. He wonders, not for the first time, what the other teams must think of them.

Guess they’re going to find out soon enough.

“We fit right in, then,” he says and Sasuke grins at him.

“Hell, yeah,” Sakura says and puts a hand on both of their shoulders. “Now enough distractions. Let’s do this.”

They’re here, finally, in the corridor outside classroom 301. Whatever happens next, it’s up to them to make it through. Together.

“Team 7,” Naruto says, putting his hand out.

“Team 7,” Sakura echoes, her hand on top of his.

“Team 7,” Sasuke says, laying his hand over both of theirs. “Let’s go crush this.”

They break and Naruto fights off a wave of giddy excitement as Sakura reaches for the door handle.

Let the games begin.

Chapter Text

The doors to the exam room slide open to reveal a mass of shinobi, all sporting forehead protectors and hostile expressions. Sasuke counts Konoha, Suna, Ame, Kusa and Taki, but none from Oto at first glance. There has to be over a hundred applicants crammed into this room—most of them no doubt the pride of their own villages, though he recognizes none of the Konoha shinobi. Most of them seem older, perhaps on their third or fourth try, and … wait. A flash of blonde catches his eye and he turns his head to see Ino approaching, with Shikamaru and Choji trailing behind. 

Interesting. 

He braces himself to be aggressively hugged and squealed at, but Ino is barely looking at him—completely focused on Sakura to his right. 

“Forehead Girl,” she says stiffly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. 

“Ino,” Sakura says in the same cautious tone. 

The air is so tense, Sasuke can practically taste it like electricity on his tongue. Sakura’s told him a little of the history here: how her and Ino used to be best friends in the early days of the Academy—Ino taking shy, bullied Sakura under her wing and giving her confidence—and how that friendship collapsed in the face of a rivalry for Sasuke’s affections (this part Sakura said with an uncharacteristic blush, refusing to meet his eyes and clearly embarrassed by her younger self. Sasuke tried to tell her that he doesn't care and she's friend now, and a badass to boot, but it came out stuttering and awkward and he's not sure he got the message across); how she’s not sure what will happen, seeing Ino again. 

It’s clear to him now, how much has changed. Ino is still dressed in a similar outfit to the one she wore at their graduation, built for style rather than practicality, with her long hair flowing down her back. Her pale skin is free of blemishes and her bangs are almost artfully styled. In contrast, Sakura’s choppy hair barely brushes her forehead and her exposed arms are dotted with small scars accumulated over their year on the road. She stands a little taller than Ino, with her shoulders thrown back. She looks like a kunoichi, whereas Ino still has the trappings of a rookie and … Ino hates this, Sasuke realizes. 

(Maybe Sakura was wrong, and it was never really about him at all.)

“Don’t think that just because you’ve been traipsing all over the continent with Sasuke-kun means you’ll beat me,” Ino says, all bravado. 

Sasuke remembers a time when Sakura would have yelled insults back, but the three of them agreed to keep a low profile and the whole room is watching. So she simply inclines her head. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ve both learned.” 

Ino’s mouth opens in surprise. Next to her, Shikamaru scoffs—hands shoved into his pockets. “This is all so troublesome,” he grumbles, glancing out at the various shinobi. On Ino’s other side, Choji shovels chips into his mouth with nervous energy. 

Neither seem to care much about catching up, though Sasuke notices them eyeing Naruto suspiciously. It’s only fair, he supposes. Out of them all, Naruto has changed the most and Sasuke the least. He also hasn’t said anything in the last five minutes, which is a rarity. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Naruo,” Shikamaru comments mildly, tilting his head to the side. 

Naruto grins. “Just taking everything in. You haven’t changed a bit, Shikarmaru. Though I’m kinda surprised you’re taking the test.” 

Shikamaru makes an annoyed tch sound and shrugs. “It’s troublesome, but Asuma-sensei convinced us to sign up.” Choji eats at a faster rate than before. “I think there must have been some kind of bet going between him and Kurenai-sensei because—”

“So the rumors are true!” A familiar voice half-shouts from their left. “Team 7 is back from the dead!” Sasuke turns to see Izunuka Kiba approaching, a little white dog he’s forgotten the name of perched on his head. He’s flanked by his the other two members of Team 8—Aburame Shino and the Hyuuga girl, whose face is rapidly turning red. 

“We never died, baka,” Naruto huffs. 

Kiba shrugs. “Might as well have. You just disappeared in the middle of the fucking night.” He makes a poof sound and gesture while the white dog yaps. 

“I-It’s g-g-good to see yo-you Na-N-Naruto-kun,” the Hyuuga stammers, barely audible. 

“Hi, Hinata,” Naruto says, waving and beaming in her direction. She squeaks and looks at the floor. 

Sasuke realizes that almost none of his former classmates have paid any attention to him and it’s … refreshing, honestly. 

“It looks like all of us are taking the Chuunin Exams,” Shino says, pushing his dark glasses further up his nose with one finger. Shikamaru lets out a long suffering sigh. 

“I wonder how far we’ll go,” Kiba says, all cocky swagger, and finally looks at Sasuke, arching an eyebrow. “Eh, Sasuke-kun. What kind of skills have you picked up on the road with your mysterious sensei?” 

“I guess you’ll have to find out,” Sasuke fires back, smirking. It’s nice, being able to exchange in overconfident banter again—allows him to forget the weight on their shoulders if they fail, and the hostile room still half-staring at them. 

“We’ve trained a great deal,” Kiba says, putting his hands on his hips. “So we won’t lose to you guys.” 

“Ha, well we don’t plan on losing to you either,” Naruto says with a bright grin. The Hyuuga—Hinata, Naruto said—squeaks again and presses her pointer fingers together in a clearly anxious habit. 

Sasuke wonders if she’s always like this and if so, should she even be taking the exam? Being a Hyuuga means she guaranteed to participate in shinobi training, whether she wants to or not, but surely she doesn’t need to advance too far? Plenty of Uchiha never became full-fledged shinobi, though granted he doesn’t know what burdens her clan is placing on her shoulders. Kakashi and Obito briefly mentioned the conflict between the main Hyuuga branch and the lesser one, but he doesn’t know any details. He files it away for later, especially since Hinata doesn’t seem like much competition, compared to Neji. 

“You guys should be a little quieter,” says yet another voice, though this one completely unfamiliar. 

Sasuke looks up to see a shinobi with a Leaf hitai-ate and long silver hair approaching them casually. With his glasses and his relaxed stance he certainly seems non-threatening, but Sasuke still tenses. “You guys are rookies, right? Only a year out of the Academy. This isn’t a field trip.” 

Ino immediately bristles, demanding to know who the man is. He introduces himself as Yakushi Kabuto, which doesn’t ring a bell. Sasuke tunes him out as he continues to lecture them on being careful, pointing out how strong the shinobi from the other villages are. He acts like he’s doing them a favor by warning them, but there are no true favors in competitions like this. 

( Underneath the underneath, Kakashi is always saying.) 

Sasuke gets even more suspicious when Kabuto reveals that he’s been attempting the Chuunin Exams for four years and that he’s gathered an incredible amount of intel on the current competition. Someone with this kind of spymaster skills, failing six times? He’s heard the exams are brutal but surely that is stretching it? Something feels off. 

So when Kabuto offers information on their competition, pulling out a pack of what he calls “ninja info cards” that can only be activated by his chakra, Sasuke says “no thanks,” and pulls Naruto and Sakura away. 

“Hey,” Naruto grumbles, “I was gonna ask about that Gaara kid.” 

“I don’t think we should rely on anyone,” Sasuke says in a hushed whisper. “Those cards … Kakashi-sensei has a set like them remember? He showed them to us once. Said they’re really complicated to use because you have to burn the information into them with your chakra—it’s a type of fuuinjutsu that Kakashi-sensei learned in ANBU and that guy can do it as a genin who can’t even pass the Chuunin Exams after six tries?” 

“Shit you’re right,” Sakura mutters, glancing over to where Kabuto is still talking to Team 10 and Team 8, though Shikamaru is glancing over at them with lazy suspicion. “Do you think something’s going on?” 

Sasuke shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s an examiner in disguise? Going to give us false information to throw us off? I think it’s best not to trust anyone.” 

“Underneath the underneath,” Naruto says under his breath. “Guess they’d want to drive that home in a fancy exam like this.” 

“The team from Oto is also watching us,” Sakura whispers. 

Sasuke doesn’t want to be obvious and look over his shoulder. He can feel their eyes on him anyway—sense the brimming hostility even from halfway across the classroom. In the last year, he’s encountered shinobi from numerous different villages and witnessed a vast array of abilities, but never a team from Oto. Kakashi and Obito seemed nervous about them and that’s more than enough for Sasuke to have his guard all the way up—high enough to be a fortress.

“Ignore them,” he decides. “For now, we focus just on us and doing the best we can.” 

Naruto and Sakura nod. A few feet away, Kabuto has his cards spread out on the floor, showing the other teams something that looks like a map and a 3D graph of how many participants there are from each village. The team from Oto is drifting closer to the little huddle, looking murderous. Sasuke stiffens at the sight of two kunai clasped between the fingers of the boy with spiky hair. Is he planning to attack Kabuto? In the middle of the exams? Surely that won’t go down well with the proctors…. 

Before anything can happen, though, there is a swirl of smoke from the front of the room and a man appears, roaring for everyone to be quiet. He’s dressed in a long black coat that brushes his ankles and a bandanna tied over his head. His face is weathered and marred by numerous scars—the signs of a long shinobi life. Something about the intensity of his gaze reminds Sasuke of Obito when he’s in serious mode and he feels a subtle chill run down his spine. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the man says in a deep voice. “I’m Morino Ibiki, the proctor for the first test of the Chuunin Exam.” He lifts a gloved hand and points at the three shinobi from Oto. “You from Hidden Sound, put your weapons away, do you want to be disqualified from the get go?” As the Oto team gives their apologies, Ibiki goes on to remind them all that no fighting is allowed without permission from the proctors and no actions that result in death will be permitted. 

Sasuke thinks of the Bloody Mist and wonders if they abide by this rule when hosting their own exams. Spiky Hair from Oto says that it sounds like the test will be too easy—a smirk on his face that Sasuke hopes he gets to punch off later. Everyone here is so overconfident and all he can hear is Obito’s voice in his head: you’ve been a shinobi for less than a year, brat, what the fuck do you have to be confident about? The special eyes you don’t even know how to use properly? Bragging is useless unless you can back up.

He’d burned at the insult back then (a mere six months ago) but he’s learned since that there is a difference between knowing what you’re capable of and what you can survive … and having an overblown belief in your own untested skill. A lot of people here are going to get a harsh reality check—he can see that in the slight smile now gracing Ibiki’s face and the grins of the other shinobi flanking him, all probably proctors themselves. 

“Now,” Ibiki continues in his booming voice, “we will start the first test of the Chuunin Exam. Turn in your applications, take one of these numbers in exchange,” he holds up a stack of numbers written on small squares of white paper, “and sit in the seat matching that number. After that we will hand out the paper for the written tests.” 

“Damnit,” Naruto grumbles. Sakura squeezes his shoulder in sympathy. 

There is a clamor for numbers after that and a few minutes of controlled chaos before everyone is seated in their assigned places with paper and writing tools laid out on the desks in front of them. The gray-uniformed instructors line the walls in chairs, each with a clipboard perched on their laps. Sasuke notices that even though each team turned in their applications and collected numbers together, they’ve been spread across the room. Naruto is down near the front, next to Hinata, with Sakura three rows directly behind him, and Sasuke has been seated closer to the back, several rows behind Naruto and Sakura and across the aisle. 

They’re isolating us. 

He’s not sure what that means yet, but it’s important. 

Up at the front, Ibiki begins writing rules on the board in chalk—the scrape of it punctuating his words. Sasuke ignores the murmurs around him as each rule is announced, trying to figure out a coherent picture. Several things stand out: 

• It’s a point deduction system. One point for each answer they get wrong and two points if they’re caught cheating. If they reach zero, they’ll be dismissed. 
• They’re judged by the full score of their team, so even though they’ve been seated separately, they’re still considered a unit. If one team member falls below zero, the entire team is disqualified. Which means, from Sasuke’s understanding, either they fail every question on the test or are caught cheating too many times. 
• The last question will be given forty-five minutes in and apparently isn’t written on their test. 

From his vantage point, he can just make out Naruto’s slumped shoulders, forehead pressed to the desk. He’s probably already panicking—written tests aren’t his forte and never will be. Right now, he’s by far the weakest link on the team. But as long as he can get just one right… 

“Begin!” Ibiki shouts and immediately the sound of pencils being picked up echoes through the room as everyone rushes to start. 

Sasuke flips over his own paper and stares down at it, brow furrowed. Each question is insanely complicated—the type of predictive math that he hears Sakura and Kakashi talking about sometimes and always goes way over his head. He doesn’t understand a single problem on the test, and he considers himself to be above average intelligence when it comes to subjects like this. Sakura might be able to answer them, but she’ll be in the top one percent of the whole room. 

Which means… 

( Underneath the underneath) 

It isn’t about the questions at all, it’s about cheating. Instead of automatically disqualifying them, only two points are being deducted if they’re caught. Ibiki himself said that awkward cheating would result in ruin, not cheating itself. So the proctors aren’t testing if they know obscure predictive math, they’re judging how well the test takers can gather intelligence and information using covert tactics. They’re supposed to cheat, as long as they aren’t obvious and get caught. 

Which … might still be a problem. Stealth is also not one of Naruto’s strong suits, though he’s improved a lot in the last year. Sasuke can see the minute he realizes. He sits up straighter, lifting his head, and starts to glance around the room. Already Sasuke can tell that rampant cheating has started—the proctors’ pencils moving rapidly on their clipboards as they observe the test takers. Naruto must be observing this too. 

That’s why they separated us. They still need to work together as a team to gather information, even if they can’t directly communicate with each other. 

Sakura catches his eye from her row and drops her eyes purposefully to her paper. Right, she can probably figure this out without having to cheat at all. Which means that Sasuke can probably get the answers from her with his Sharingan—then he just needs a way to pass them to Naruto. A wind jutsu, maybe? Wind isn’t his strong suit, but if he drops a paper on the floor, he might be able to create a gust that could get it to Naruto. Though Sakura is closer, perhaps there is something in her arsenal that can help? 

Around them, proctors begin calling out numbers, signaling the test takers that have failed. Each gets up and leaves with their team—some much more quietly than others. Sakura taps her pencil against her desk twice, a clear signal that she’s done, and Sasuke activates his Sharingan, copying her movements as she re-traces her pencil over each answer. In less than a minute, his sheet is full. Perfect. Kakashi would be proud. 

Now for Naruto. 

He’s at a clear disadvantage because his normal techniques aren’t geared towards stealth and he doesn’t have a useful kekkei genkai that will allow him to gather information long distance. But before Sasuke can come up with a plan to get the answers all the way over to him without being caught, he sees Naruto drop his hands casually into his lap, hunching over the desk like he’s nervous. And he must have made a seal of some kind because the paper of the person three seats away from him flutters under the assault of a guest of wind, sliding off the tale and onto the floor—closer to Naruto. 

The genin gasps and bends over, reaching for it. Naruto’s pencil moves in a blur. He keeps his face tilted down towards his test, glancing at the answers out of the corner of his eye. Sasuke notices he only has four written down before the other genin manages to get his paper back, but four means they’ll still pass. All around them, numbers are still being called—thirteen teams so far and counting. 

This really is meant to weed out the weak. 

Naruto sinks back into his seat, arms crossed, and keeps his head down. Clearly, he’s decided that four should be enough too, and with so many teams getting caught it’s better to lie low. They’re nearly forty-five minutes in, anyway, which means that the final question will be announced soon. Sasuke has a feeling that it's going to be special in some way—maybe another trick, because why else would it not be included in the initial exam? 

He doesn’t have long to contemplate before Ibiki glances purposefully at the clock and says in his booming voice, “Alright, here’s the tenth question!” 

Sasuke straightens, noticing everyone around him doing the same, anticipation sparking through the room as Ibiki puts his hands in the pockets of his long coat. “But before that,” he continues, more subdued. “I’m going to add some rules to the final question.” 

Of course, Sasuke thinks darkly. 

The creak of the door in the back of the room stops whatever Ibiki was going to announce next. Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke catches a glimpse of one of the kids from Suna—a teammate of Sabaku no Gaara, sporting all black and purple face paint. One of the proctors is with him, though something seems a little off about him that Sasuke can’t quite pinpoint. It’s not important, ultimately, since Ibiki cryptically reprimands Face Paint for playing with dolls and orders him to sit down. 

Then, with an evil glint in his eyes that still has nothing on Obito in scheming mode, Ibiki turns his attention back to the room and says, “these are the … the hopeless rules.” 

Drama queen, is Sasuke’s main thought. Maybe a taste for melodrama is a requirement for being a jounin? Obito certainly possesses it in spades and even Kakashi has his moments. Sasuke figures this is all designed to psych them out—scare them, weed them out more. 

And sure enough, Ibiki goes on to explain that they have a choice whether or not to take the tenth question. Refusing results in an automatic fail. But attempting and getting it wrong means forfeiting the chance to become a chuunin forever. A chorus of gasps and angry protests ripples through the room at that announcement. Sasuke curls his fingers around his pencil, trying to determine if Ibiki is serious. What is the purpose here? Why make it such high stakes? To prompt more teams to quit? That seems like the most logical explanation. The chuunin exams are known for being difficult—the fewer teams advancing through to the next round, the higher the prestige of being the last one standing at the end. 

But if him or Sakura or Naruto fail this question … will it reflect badly on Kakashi and Obito? On their teaching? Sasuke taps his pencil against the desk, tuning out the rest of the room as the first trembling hand goes up and someone inevitably forfeits. 

He hates thinking this, but what would Obito do? Probably laugh in Ibiki’s face. His cousin doesn’t have the patience for mind games—is always saying that’s Kakashi’s forte. Kakashi, who says that part of being a shinobi is deception, layers—like a sleight of hand nothing is ever quite what it seems. Tilt the world just enough and you can get someone questioning everything they’ve known, even whether or not the sky is blue. 

(ANBU bastard, Obito always mutters, when Kakashi starts talking like that.) 

There has to be a trick here—just like the way that the first part wasn’t about the exam questions at all. Why would this one suddenly be? Maybe … this is testing their ability to take risks? That, too, is part of being a shinobi. 

More hands are going up. Sasuke glances at Sakura and finds her looking back at him. She deliberately leans back in her seat, a defiant clench to her jaw. He checks on Naruto next and sees him in a similar position, with his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face. All around them, more teams are giving up and leaving the room. None of their fellow “rookies,” though, or Gaara’s team, or Oto.

Well, Sasuke decides, setting down his pencil. We didn’t come this far just to give up now. 

Obito would never forgive them, and Sasuke would never forgive himself. 

So he waits. 

And he isn’t as surprised as he probably should be when the last team leaves and Ibiki starts to laugh, declaring that they’ve all passed. 

Goddamn jounin. They’re all crazy. 

And his point is only proven by the woman that literally comes crashing through the window with a banner pinned to the ceiling by kunai announcing the second part of the exam, and a voice even louder than Naruto’s as she says that her name is Mitarashi Anko and she’s their proctor for the next leg of this hell test. 

Batshit. All of them. 

_ _ 

Sakura is still shaking the lingering tension out of her arms as they make their way home for the evening, half listening to Naruto chattering excitedly about the modified wind jutsu he managed to pull off and how terrifying Ibiki was—though they’re all in mutual agreement that the man has nothing on Uchiha Obito. 

She’s always enjoyed written exams in the past as a way to show off her intelligence and skill but never again. That was hellish, and who knows what the crazy kunoichi named Anko has in store for them tomorrow. 

“Survival test, maybe?” Sasuke muses when she voices the question out loud. 

Naruto switches gears immediately. “It makes sense. This was all about spying and stuff, but survival is even more important than that.” 

“We’re kickass at survival, so that’s good,” Sakura says. She’s trying not to get too overconfident, like she’s seen some of these genin acting, but she doubts that Konoha can come up with a setting worse than Swamp Country and she’s survived that pit several times now. Sasuke makes a sound of agreement and Naruto grins, fierce. 

It bolsters Sakura’s spirits, and when she opens the apartment door and smells soup boiling on the stove, the last of the tension fully bleeds away. Kakashi is in the kitchen, cutting vegetables to add to the noodles while Obito reads what looks like a scroll on advanced genjutsu at the table. 

“Well,” Kakashi says as Sakura removes her sandals and Sasuke closes the door behind them. “You survived.” 

“Barely,” Naruto mutters, flopping onto the couch with a long sigh. “It sucked.” 

“It was about information gathering,” Sasuke elaborates, nudging Naruto’s legs aside so that he can sit down, as well. Sakura opts to join Obito at the table. “Though that wasn’t obvious at first.” 

“The proctor loved mind games.” Naruto’s voice is bitter. “Like he kept trying to scare us with fake rules or how hopeless everything was and I hated it. ” 

“Huh, we didn’t have a written test,” Obito says, setting down his scroll. 

Kakashi snorts. “You never would have made chuunin if we did.” Obito sticks his tongue out at Kakashi's back.

“Why didn’t you?” Sakura asks. There is still so much about the two of them that she doesn’t know and she’s endlessly curious: about what they were like when they were her age, about what Konoha was like, all those years ago. 

“Maa, we were at war,” Kakashi says as he stirs the soup. “They needed chuunin on the battlefield so they set the bar very, very low.” 

“They passed plenty of people they shouldn’t have,” Obito adds darkly. “Including me. Hell, they field promoted Kakashi when he was fucking six. He just came back to take the test with me and Rin because we needed to enter as a team of three in order to qualify.” 

“Wait … six?” Naruto half shouts, sitting up to stare at Kakashi with wide eyes. 

Kakashi sighs, long and tired. “We were at war,” he repeats. “And I was considered a prodigy. They … there wasn’t any time for me to be a child. Obito was a chuunin by age eleven and I was a jounin when I was your age, but none of us were ready. It fucked us up.” He turns the burner off on the stove with an almost-angry flick. Sakura stares at the tense line of his back and then at Obito, reading the sorrow on his face. 

On the couch, Sasuke and Naruto remain silent.

“I was put on a genin team at age five,” Kakashi continues. “With Minato-sensei. My two teammates died a few years later, when I was nine. So they took two new Academy graduates—” 

“Me and Rin,” Obito supplies. 

“And put us all together as a new team and shipped us back out to the war.” 

“It sucked,” Obito says, getting up to help Kakashi dish out the soup. “We were a fucking terrible team.” 

This surprises Sakura, considering how much the two of them love each other, and how much they both clearly loved Rin. “You were?” 

“We had our good moments,” Kakashi amends. “But yes. Obito and I couldn’t stand each other, and Rin was constantly caught in the middle. And with the war consuming everything, Minato didn’t have time to teach us, really. All the experience we gained, we gained on a battlefield, where it was life or death.” 

“You really couldn’t stand each other?” Naruto asks in amazement. “But you’re….” 

Obito and Kakashi trade a fond glance. “It took some time, and one of us literally dying, but we got over ourselves,” Obito says. 

Kakashi hums. “I don’t know if it would have happened if we hadn’t been exiled, though.” 

“Probably not,” Obito agrees and beckons Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto over to get dinner. “Anyway, the point is: don’t feel like you have to rush things. If you don’t pass this time around, the world won’t fucking end, okay?” 

Sakura tries to imagine what it would be like: growing up in the middle of a war, having her first missions on a battlefield, watching Sasuke and Naruto die four years ago, when she was only nine. She shudders, banishing the dark imagery of the two of them lying in bloody grass. She’s competitive enough that she wants to pass, and would feel bad if she didn’t, but perhaps Obito and Kakashi have a point. 

Sasuke is still quiet as they take their places around the table, staring into his bowl of soup with his brow furrowed. “Itachi,” he says after a long moment and Sakura masks her surprise at hearing that name from him again. “Grew up during the war too.” 

Obito’s frown deepens the scars on his face, but he nods. “Near the tail end of it, but yes. He was a chuunin by ten, but he saw a lot of people die during the war.” 

“Still too young,” Kakashi says grimly. 

Sasuke bites his lip. “Do you think … that had something to do with what happened?” 

Sakura trades a wide-eyed glance with Naruto, wondering if she should be present for this conversation. But that Sasuke is even bringing it up in front of the two of them speaks to a level of trust she wasn’t aware of earning and that makes her chest warm, in spite of the cloud now hovering over the apartment. 

Obito sighs—a grief-laced sound. “I’ve wondered. I … I don’t know, Sasuke. It might have. I was exiled when he was four, long before any of this. But I can tell you that war changes people. It leaves deep scars. It shaped who Kakashi and I were and who we came to be. And it probably did the same for Itachi, even as a child.” 

Sasuke nods, chewing on his lip. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, a repeat of what he told them in the Uchiha district. “But sometimes … I wish I could understand.” 

Naruto reaches over and puts a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, squeezing, and Obito sighs again. “That makes two of us, kid. But for now, the war is over and let’s continue hoping there isn’t another one for a long time. We should be focusing on your exam.” 

Obito, Sakura notices, didn’t say he hoped there wouldn’t be another war, which feels … very telling. But she tries to push all that aside like Obito told her to. “Well our second proctor told us that you knew where the location would be.” 

“That’s right!” Naruto says, gaining some of his volume back. “She said to ask you, so out with it!” 

Kakashi and Obito trade one of their amused glances that contains a whole conversation. “Maa, we were going to wait until after dinner, but I guess we can tell them now.” 

“Yes, yes, tell us now!” Naruto insists, leaning forward with an eager expression his face. Sakura feels like she’s buzzing, as well—full of excitement for the next stage and still-draining adrenaline from the test. 

“It’s in Training Ground 44,” Obito says and then goes back to his soup. 

What? A training ground? That seems … anticlimactic? Especially after Anko was talking about cutting down the teams even further. 

She looks over at Sasuke, who reflects her own puzzled expression back at her. 

“That’s it?” Naruto says, outraged. “C’mon there’s gotta be more than that!” 

Kakashi pulls a card out of his pocket and checks it. “Mm, nope it’s definitely at Training Ground 44. You’re supposed to be there by sun-up.” 

“But what is Training Ground 44?” Sakura presses, because now the two of them are just being obtuse on purpose. 

“A big training ground,” Obito says, an overly innocent look on his face that Sakura wants to punch. “Oh wait, I think it has a nickname, right, Kakashi?” 

“Ah,” Kakashi says mildy. “Isn’t it the Forest of Death?” 

Obito snaps the gloved fingers of his right hand. “That’s it. The Forest of Death.” 

“The … Forest of Death? ” Sakura repeats, eyes widening. Konoha really has a training ground nicknamed that? 

“Why is it called that?” Sasuke asks. 

“We can’t tell you,” Obito says cheerfully. 

“Damnit, you’re the ones always saying to gather intel,” Naruto grumbles, belligerently shoveling soup into his mouth. 

“And we’re very glad you’ve taken that lesson to heart,” Kakashi says. “But we still can’t tell you.” 

“I’ll say one thing.” Obito leans back in his seat. “It’s not worse than Swamp Country.” 

“Is there anything worse than Swamp Country?” Sakura grumbles, already envisioning hostile creatures and twisted trees and deep bogs. 

“Well there are areas of the continent that haven’t been explored yet,” Kakashi points out. 

Sakura glares at him, noticing Naruto and Sasuke doing the same. His eye crinkles in that bullshit smile of his. “Hey, you’re the ones who wanted to sign up.” 

He … has a point there. And if Obito’s assuring them it isn’t worse than Swamp Country, which they’ve already had several horrible brushes with, then they’ll probably be fine. And considering it’s at a training ground, she’d put money on it being a survival test. The three of them are much better at survival than written exams, so they stand a good chance. She isn’t overconfident enough to assume it will be easy, but she’d be surprised if they didn’t pass. 

“Damn right we signed up,” Naruto says, shoving his empty bowl away. He’s got his fierce grin on—the one that always promises mayhem and unexpected results. “So bring it.” 

_ _ 

“It really is good to see you, Kakashi.” 

Kakashi swirls his drink in his hand and glances out at the rest of the bar—well aware of the various surreptitious stares coming from his fellow shinobi. Across from him, Maito Gai is seemingly oblivious, though few things with him are as they seem. Kakashi had wanted Obito along for this little outing, but his partner begged off, citing “exhaustion” and "needing to look after the brats" when really he clearly just didn’t want to put up with Gai for an extended period of time and was probably still upset remembering how Gai thrashed him in their own Chuunin Exam, a lifetime ago.

Bastard. 

Maybe it’s for the best, though. Gai probably wouldn’t be as relaxed with Obito around—all the facades dropping to the serious shinobi underneath. 

“I thought you would have forgotten about me,” Kakashi says honestly. “It’s been thirteen years, after all.” Two more and he will have been an exile longer than he was ever a resident of Konoha, or a shinobi in its ranks.

Strange. 

Gai laughs, booming. “Forget Hatake Kakashi? Unlikely. But you’re right. Thirteen years is a long time, old friend. I hardly recognize you.” 

Kakashi shrugs. “I healed.” 

He hadn’t expected to, honestly, in those first days after the Kyuubi and losing what felt like everything, but the road of life is full of surprises. 

Gai’s expression is fond and almost knowing. “I’m glad. I had hoped that getting out from under Konoha would have a positive effect on you. I even asked the Hokage to remove you from ANBU.” 

Well. That’s news to Kakashi. “You did?” 

Gai nods, a rueful smile on his face. “It was not long before Kushina announced she was pregnant. I … saw what it was doing to you. The shell of yourself you were becoming. So I asked Sandaime to let you go. He wouldn’t—you were too powerful of an asset for that—but he did agree to put you on a quieter mission.” 

“Looking after Kushina,” Kakashi murmurs, remembering those months shadowing her, watching her and Minato prepare for the arrival of their son. “I suppose I should thank you.” 

That mission had helped him—he can see that looking back. Probably it wouldn’t have been enough, in the long run, but it did allow him a moment to breathe and remember there was life in the world, beyond the death and tragedy of war. 

Gai waves a hand. “No need. It’s ancient history now.” 

“How has Konoha been?” Kakashi asks, changing the subject. “And when did they let you become a jounin sensei?” 

“About a year before they let you,” Gai points out with a shit-eating grin and Kakashi raises his cup of sake in acknowledgement of the Hokage’s insanity. “And Konoha’s been well. Peace has allowed the village to grow—lots of promising graduates from the Academy, with a chance to learn outside a battlefield.” 

“I’m sensing a but,” Kakashi says quietly. With a ninja village, there almost always is.

Gai sighs. “There are … rumors. I’m sure you heard about Orochimaru’s exile.” Kakashi hums in acknowledgement. “He was experimenting on children, but he clearly had help. There has been a struggle for power in Konoha for a long time between the Sandaime and darker forces. I worry about who will win.” 

“Konoha shinobi tried to assassinate me and Obito several years ago,” Kakashi says. “They didn’t come from the Hokage.” 

Gai gives him a dark, knowing look. It seems Root and Danzo are still up their schemes, whatever those may be. Kakashi touches the seal on his arm, feeling again the residual ache from his sealed chakra and his dormant eye. He doesn’t regret giving his students a chance to test their skills, but he can’t help thinking that it was a mistake to come back here—one he’s going to suffer for, if he isn’t careful. 

“Speaking of Obito,” Gai says—an obvious topic change that Kakashi rolls with. Better not to say too much out in the open in a village full of shinobi. “He’s still a mystery. The Hokage never explained just how he survived.” 

“Ah.” Kakashi rubs the back of his neck. “To be honest, I don’t know all of it, either. Obito’s own memory is spotty and it’s gotten worse over the years. He’s forgotten most of what happened between Kannabi Bridge and waking up in Konoha in the middle of the Kyuubi attack. But … someone saved him.” 

“Someone?” Gai prompts. 

Kakashi leans forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Someone claiming to be Uchiha Madara.” 

Gai’s eyes predictably widen in shock. “Do you think that’s true?” 

“It seems unlikely. Madara’s been dead for nearly a century. But whoever they are, they have plans of some kind that I don’t think are over.” 

Gai shakes his head. “Shadows upon shadows, eh?” 

“Welcome to the world of the shinobi,” Kakashi says dryly, raising his cup in another toast. “At least our cute students are doing well.” 

That brightens Gai’s face. “Yosh, of course they are! You’re a great teacher, rival Kakashi! I wouldn’t expect anything less!” 

“Maa, I didn’t teach them alone,” Kakashi says, waving a dismissive hand. “And the exams have only just begun.” 

“But you think they’ll pass,” Gai says. 

“I think they have a good chance,” Kakashi hedges. “And yours?” 

Gai grins at him. “I feel the same as you.” 

“The one who looks just like you—did you plan that?” 

All he gets in response is a booming laugh, which he isn’t sure how to decipher. Maybe it’s better if he never knows the origin of Gai’s mini clone. 

“Kakashi,” Gai says after a moment of companionable silence, “I have to ask. You and Obito…” 

Kakashi is suddenly grateful for the mask that hides his reddening cheeks. “Ah … yes. We are. Ten years now.” 

He’s braced for water works and loud exclamations about Youth, but Gai merely smiles, subdued. And if there is a slight sheen over his eyes when he says, “I’m happy for you, Kakashi,” neither of them comment on it. 

Chapter Text

Somehow, Naruto thinks, they’ve managed to piss off a deity —maybe Bishamonten? Because this was supposed to be the easy part. It was funny, watching their fellow genin quake over Anko’s dramatic explanation of the scroll survival test. Four days? Thirty-nine teams? Ten square kilometers? Ha, easy. Even those stupid consent forms had been nothing, Obito-sensei threatens to kill them on a weekly basis and Naruto’s nearly been killed at least four times in the past year. 

Sakura hid their Heaven scroll in a little pocket dimension she’d been learning to create with sealing, they mapped out a plan to find an Earth scroll within the first twenty-four hours, and then they headed into the forest — nothing to worry about.  This test was going to be a breeze. 

Until they got separated. And the giant snake showed up. 

Seriously, a giant snake. HUGE. It should be against the laws of nature for a snake to grow this large, Naruto would like to file a complaint with Izanagi. Especially since it’s fast too. 

Really this is probably his own fault. Maybe this is penance for the absolute rookie mistake of wandering too far away to pee. Just … how was he to know that a fucking GIANT SNAKE would show up out of the blue and chase him away from his teammates? Kakashi-sensei's always berating them to be prepared for everything but Naruto is pretty sure even he would be taken by surprise if a snake bigger than the tallest building in Konoha lunged out of the trees at him when he was trying to take a piss. 

We’ve established how big the snake is, Naruto, drawls a voice in his head that sounds maddeningly like Kakashi. Now think beyond that. 

Okay, okay. 

He ducks, dodging a strike from the snake’s tail and creates several kage bunshin to distract it while he darts further into the trees. 

Giant snake —doesn’t seem native to the forest. It would be hard to just … keep something of this size penned up in here, right? Could it have been brought in specifically for the test? Or— or it’s a summons. Like Kakashi-sensei’s ninken or the giant grumpy frog that Jiraya summoned for them when they visited him about Rasengan. 

That seems the most likely. 

The snake hisses and lunges again, Naruto twists out of the way and lets himself plummet back towards the forest floor, landing in a crouch and sprinting for the undergrowth before the snake has time to twist its head and spot him. 

So it’s a summons. Which means it didn’t randomly attack him, someone summoned it to attack him. Which means that it’s purpose probably was to drive him away from Sakura and Sasuke. Someone’s actively trying to separate them. 

“Kuso,” Naruto spits and dodges again. The snake slams into a nearby tree with a deafening crack of wood. Naruto winces, shifting his weight and darting to the left so he doesn’t get smacked by falling branches. 

Are there really genin out there capable of this kind of summons? 

Not important, Obito reminds him. Get the fuck back to your team. 

Right, right, right. Team. He needs to find his team. Fleeing the snake has disoriented him badly and he’s not sure where in the forest he’s ended up. The plan was to head west, until they found a water source. Lots of teams would probably want to make camp close to water, so hey perfect spot for an ambush. 

The snake charges again. Naruto bends backwards, flattening himself against the ground as its massive tail slashes overhead, taking out more undergrowth. He feels it brush his stomach and cringes because too close too close too close. It opens its equally massive mouth, jaw yawning wide and fangs as long as Naruto’s arm, and roars in frustration. Naruto figures he must be particularly annoying prey, considering how long they’ve been at this. 

But hey, he’s used to dodging Obito, who moves faster than any other shinobi he’s ever encountered. 

He rolls along the ground until he hits the base of another tree and pushes himself upright, sprinting along the trunk higher up into the branches. The snake is slow to turn sometimes, to orient itself after a strike, and he takes advantage, trying to hide himself as high in the canopy as he can. He crouches precariously on a branch and fishes around in his hip pouch for his compass. He snaps it open, grumbling under his breath as the arrow moves way too slow, wobbling before it settles on NE. 

Shit. 

Okay, he’s adaptable. Being a shinobi is about rolling with the punches (or giant snakes). Hopefully he hasn’t gone too far kilometer-wise and he can catch up to Sakura and Sasuke relatively easily. 

A roar rattles his tree, forcing him to channel more chakra into his feet to keep from being flung off his already-narrow branch. Whoops, he should probably actually deal with the giant snake first. The last thing he wants to do is lead it right back to his teammates. He might be able to lose it if he uses kage bunshin and some fast footwork … but then there is still a giant snake roaming around. 

He chews on his lip, debating. 

If he kills it … can you even kill a summons? He’s never asked Kakashi and Obito that. Summons technically aren’t of this world, from what he remembers of Kakashi’s lectures, so maybe they can’t die? Which means expending effort on killing it would be a waste of time.  Gods, he hates decisions like this. Strategy is Sasuke and Sakura’s forte, he just punches things. 

Underbrush crackles below as the snake moves around—no doubt trying to find him. As quietly as he can, he summons a kage bunshin. 

“Okay,” he whispers to it. “We’re gonna play rock paper scissors. If I win, we kill the snake. If you win, we run for it? Got it?” 

The clone nods, mirroring the serious expression that’s most likely on Naruto’s own face. If Sakura were here, she would smack him for making Big Strategic Decisions this way but she isn’t and he’s running out of time. So he takes a deep breath and counts, “one, two, three!” 

He puts out paper, and his clone scissors. 

Well. 

“Looks like we’re running,” Naruto says grimly, not sure if he’s disappointed or not. Taking down a giant snake would have been cool, and something he could brag about to Sasuke, but rules are rules. 

He creates three more kage bunshin and tells them to all run in separate directions and make as much noise as possible. They tear out of the tree and head further into the forest, yelling and taunting the snake as they go. He shifts off his branch onto the trunk of the tree itself, making sure that the canopy leaves still hide him from sight. The snake moves like a bulldozer, barreling past his tree and into the forest after the source of the noise—a trail of destruction left in its wake. As soon as it’s out of sight, Naruto turns southwest and launches himself into the forest as fast as he can go. He has no idea how long his clones will be able to distract the snake and he doesn’t want to be anywhere close to it when it realizes it can’t actually eat the prey it's chasing. 

Plus, there’s a weird rock in the pit of his stomach. A dread he can’t name, but is familiar with. It’s the same feeling he experienced when he saw smoke rising from a Water Country village, when he crouched with Kakashi in a cave hiding from S-rank missing nin and saw the fear Kakashi was trying so hard to keep off his face. 

The twisting, terrible certainty that something is Very Very Wrong. 

Gritting his teeth, he pushes himself harder off the next tree, willing his body to move faster. To carry him to Sakura and Sasuke as quickly as it possibly can. 

_ _ 

Over the last year traveling the continent, Sakura has met a lot of powerful and scary shinobi. Shinobi that could open craters in the earth, call lightning down from the sky, and make rivers boil. Hell, her own sensei are two of them—towering figures that strike terror into the hearts of lesser ninja and civilians. She’s stared insanity and death and chaos in the face and come out the other side still breathing, still standing, still ready to fight another day. 

But none of them compare to the kunoichi standing in front of her right now. The killing intent, the thirst for blood, radiating from her feels powerful enough to start tremors in Sakura’s limbs, push her heart into a drumbeat that’s loud in her ears.

Naruto insisting he had to go to the bathroom, then disappearing; a powerful wind attack her and Sasuke barely dodged, then this kunoichi appearing out of the shadows and swallowing an entire earth scroll in front of them—everything happened so fast, Sakura still feels dizzy and disoriented. It seems surreal, like a strange dream. If she was a weaker shinobi, she’d wonder if someone managed to cast a genjutsu without her noticing. But there’s no way she’d miss something like that, especially at genin level. 

Which means this is all real. And happening. The kunoichi is smirking at them and Sakura can almost feel kunai piercing her body, see her own blood splattering against the forest floor. She’s only experienced something like this once before: when Kakashi jumped in front of a blow meant for her and Obito roared in fury and the very forest itself answered his call. 

As she tries to regain control of her body, Sakura realizes two things: they’ve been targeted on purpose, this isn’t about the scrolls … and this kunoichi isn’t a genin. 

She flashes back to a clearing in Grass Country—trees not unlike these towering above her and Obito pointing a kunai at her face. 

Do you know one of the most important things about being a shinobi, Sakura? He asks and as she shakes her head, he smiles, sharp and feral. Knowing when you can’t take someone in a fight. 

“Sakura,” Sasuke gasps and she thinks he must have reached the same conclusion. 

They need to run, to hide, to regroup with Naruto—wherever the hell he is. This is not a genin and if they stay here, Sakura is certain they will die. One advantage they potentially have is the kunoichi not knowing all they’re capable of. If she thinks they’re simply green rookies who are going to curl up on the ground and let her stab them … well. 

Sakura grits her teeth and forces her trembling hand to move, reaching into the pouch at her back to pull out of one of her scrolls. This attack is a one-two punch she hasn’t perfected yet, but imperfect is going to have to be better than nothing. Across the clearing the kunoichi is watching them with a relaxed, amused expression—a satisfied cat toying with its prey. 

“Sasuke-kun, get ready,” Sakura whispers and feels Sasuke shift closer to her. Of the two of them, he’ll be able to actually get them out of here the fastest. Sakura takes another deep breath, pulling her focus inward, to her chakra, and trying to ignore the visions of death and pain still sparking through her mind. She channels chakra into one fist and slams it into the ground. 

“ Doton:Dosekiryū!” 

The earth trembles and roils beneath her, a powerful wave of dirt rising up like a mudslide and barreling towards the kunoichi. With her other hand, Sakura unfurls her scroll and activates the seal. Mist sprays from it, completely engulfing her and Sasuke in fog. She feels Sasuke’s hand grab a fistful of her shirt and then he yanks her off her feet as he uses his Sharingan to increase his speed, carrying them into the trees. 

The kunoichi’s loud, manic laughter trails after them. Sakura feels even more like a mouse hiding from an owl. 

Or … a huge fucking snake.

“Shit!” Sasuke yells as the snake rises up in front of them, cutting off their path of escape. Sakura wrenches herself away from him, thudding onto a nearby branch. The snake chases after Sasuke as he launches himself higher into the air. He pulls out a handful of shuriken and hurls them at the snake’s head. Sakura draws her own kunai, ready to provide back up, but the snake collapses onto a tree branch with a crack of wood, eyes empty and blood seeping from its wounds to stain the mossy bark. 

Dead, then? 

But no … its skin shifts, cracks open. Sakura suppresses a horrified shudder of disgust as the kunoichi rises from the dead snake's body like she’s hatching from a fucking egg. 

“You’re better than I expected,” she says, terrifying delight in her voice. “You know not to let your guard down, even for a second. Prey must always stay tense and desperately try to flee … from a predator.” 

Her tongue lolls from her mouth, now long like a snake’s, and Sakura gasps as the kunoichi suddenly rushes forward —her body elastic as she coils herself around a tree and heads straight for Sasuke. Sasuke yells and skips backward, trying to dodge her. Sakura reaches frantically into her pouch, racking her brain for a technique or scroll to help. Before she can decide on anything, though, a wave of shuriken flies from the trees, hurtling towards the kunoichi’s head. She shifts aside just in time for them to thud into the branch in front of her instead. Naruto follows the initial attack in a blur of black and yellow, landing in front of Sasuke with a kunai drawn and gaze sharp. 

“Hey, guys,” he says grimly. “Sorry I’m late.” 

Sasuke huffs, predictably regaining his composure. “What took you so long, dobe?” 

“There was a snake,” Naruto says and shifts his eyes towards the corpse still draped across the tree. “A lot like that one.” 

The kunoichi smirks. Another chill runs down Sakura’s spine. She still doubts they can win this fight, not without their powerful sensei backing them up. Whoever Snake Tongue is, she’s on an entirely different level—one probably at least ten or so above where Team 7 currently are. But if this isn’t about the scrolls, or the test at all—if this kunoichi has singled them out for a special reason—then she isn’t going to stop pursuing them until she gets whatever it is she wants. 

And Sakura doubts it’s their lives the kunoichi is after. She could have killed them easily back in that clearing, probably without even alerting them to her presence. But she’s kept them alive to taunt and toy with…. 

Sakura glances at Sasuke, still standing behind Naruto and eyes glowing red as blood.

Could Snake Tongue want the Sharingan? He seems to be her main target, she’s hardly paid Sakura any attention since she showed up. And Sakura remembers Obito lecturing Sasuke about how valuable his eyes are, how he needs to be careful who he reveals his kekkei genkai to because there are people who want to steal it. People who tried to steal it and would have succeeded if Obito hadn’t intervened. 

Suddenly, Sakura misses her sensei. 

She can see the wheels turning in Naruto’s head as he takes in the situation and the kunoichi’s power level. His fingers tighten around the grip of his kunai and he settles further into his stance. 

“What the hell do you want?” he asks Snake Tongue, brash as always. 

Snake Tongue’s body turns solid again as she levers herself upright on the branch, still smirking at them. “This is a test, isn’t it? What else would I be after but—” 

“Cut the bullshit,” Naruto snaps. 

“You’re not after the scroll,” Sasuke chimes in over Naruto’s shoulder. “You’re not a genin. You attacking us isn’t part of this test.” 

The kunoichi laughs. “Ah, I see the Hatake and Uchicha brats gave you some training after all.” 

Sakura startled at the mention of Kakashi and Obito. How could this kunoichi possibly...? 

“Then I won’t bother with any more pleasantries,” Snake Tongue continues. “You’re right, if I wanted the scroll, I could easily kill you and take it.” She darts backward, a blur of motion, and Sakura gasps as she pushes up the sleeve of her uniform, revealing summoning seals painted onto her arm. 

Sakura grabs another sealing scroll from her pouch and unfurls it, activating the seal just as the kunoichi bites into her thumb. A wave of poisoned kunai hurtle towards their target and Snake Tongue dodges out of the way, summoning interrupted. 

“Don’t let her summon!” Sakura snaps to her two shocked teammates as the kunai thud into the tree where Snake Tongue had been standing seconds before. She reaches for another scroll, readying it. 

Naruto moves first, rushing forward and clapping his hands together. “ Fūton: Reppūshō!” 

A powerful gale bursts from his palms, forcing Snake Tongue further back along the tree. Next to Naruto, Sasuke’s hands fly through a familiar series of seals. 

“ Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!” 

Fire spews from Saskue’s mouth, combining with Naruto’s wind attack to create a blazing inferno that immediately engulfs Snake Tongue. Sakura leaps over to them, scroll ready. This time, dozens of shuriken, all attached to wires, fly from the open scroll. Sakura directs them with her chakra, twisting them so that they wrap around Snake Tongue and trap her against the trunk of the tree. 

She shrieks as she's burned and Sakura feels a dark rush of satisfaction. The kunoichi underestimated them, dismissed Sakura all together, and now she’s paying the price. After a moment, the fire stops as Naruto and Sasuke’s attacks peter out, though flames lick at the blackened trunk where the kunoichi remains slumped over, still trapped by Sakura’s wire. 

Naruto drops to one knee, gasping. That’s the most powerful gale attack Sakura’s ever seen him use and she’s a little nervous about the red she can see overtaking the blue in his eyes —the Kyuubi’s chakra starting to leak through. 

“We should …  run,” Sasuke says grimly, also panting. 

“We should run,” Sakura agrees, turning towards the forest and reaching down to help Naruto to his feet. 

Behind them, the sound of snapping wires echoes loud through the forest and Sakura internally curses. They weren’t fast enough, shit, they weren’t—

Snake Tongue slaps a palm against her fist and Sakura’s whole body seizes up. She cries out as she crumples to her knees on the wide tree branch, unable to move her twitching limbs. Some kind of paralysis? Next to her, Sasuke seems to be in a similar position, shaking as he tries to fight the jutsu. Only Naruto remains on his feet, sharpened teeth gritted and eyes crimson. 

Sakura manages to lift her heavy head just enough to catch a glimpse of Snake Tongue. Her … part of her face has peeled away, revealing gray skin and a single gold eye. 

What… 

“Not bad,” Snake Tongue says and her voice is shifting, too, deepening into a masculine rasp. “I didn’t expect any of you to be at this level.” 

Naruto roars, a feral, inhuman sound, and charges forward—unaffected by the paralysis. Sakura tries to call his name, to stop him, but it’s too late. Snake Tongue moves, so fast she’s almost a blur, and slams a hand into Naruto’s stomach. 

“You first, then,” she says mildly, and Sakura watches in horror as her fingertips glow a deep purple. She digs them into Naruto’s stomach, right through the fabric of his shirt, and he screams in response, writhing in her grip. The red bleeds from his eyes and his body slumps as he loses consciousness. Snake Tongue drops his limp form onto the tree branch, stepping over him like one would a pile of garbage. Sasuke yells, a combination of helplessness and fury. Sakura bows her head, once again turning her focus inward to her chakra, fighting the paralysis. 

Move, she snaps at her trembling body. Come on. 

“You’re impressive, Sasuke-kun,” Snake Tongue continues, stepping closer. “I didn’t expect you to be able to use the Sharingan so well at your age. You truly are a member of the Uchiha clan.” 

Sasuke gasps, forcing himself up on one knee. “The … Uchiha clan … are dead.” 

Snake Tongue laughs. “You are definitely his brother.” 

Sasuke freezes again, this time in shock. Sakura forces herself to keep breathing. Focus. She can’t help Sasuke if she can’t move. She can’t help Sasuke if she can’t… 

“Your eyes hide more ability than Itachi.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Sasuke yells, finally climbing to his feet though his body shakes from the effort. 

“My name is Orochimaru,” Snake Tongue says and Sakura’s blood runs cold. 

She knows that name. She’s heard it in the stories Kakashi and Obito told them around various campfires. One of the Legendary Sannin—the fallen one, who fled Konoha under mysterious circumstances and disappeared over a decade ago. He wants Sasuke? 

“If you think you want to meet me again, desperately reach the top of this test.” Orochimaru smiles with his misshapen face and Sasuke laughs in a bitter mixture of pain and disbelief. 

“I don’t,” he rasps. “I want … nothing to do with … you.” 

Orochimaru makes a contemplative sound. “Well, that won’t do.” 

Sakura tenses. Her chakra is flowing again and she channels as much of it as possible into her arm but keeps herself still. Not yet, wait for the right opening… 

Orochimaru makes another seal and like before, his body turns elastic—his neck suddenly expanding and rushing forward. His target is Sasuke, he’s underestimated her again, ignored her completely. She watches his mouth open to reveal twin, snake-like fangs as Sasuke remains frozen in shocked horror and grits her teeth. 

Now! 

Right before Orochimaru can sink his fangs into Sasuke’s neck, Sakura launches herself to her feet and swings her arm with a roar of fury. Her chakra infused fist connects with the side of Orochimaru's head so hard she can hear bone break. The impact rattles up her arm, the backlash causing her own radius to crack, but she takes the pain and channels it back outward into the arc of her punch. 

Orochimaru’s elastic neck snaps backward, slamming his head into a tree and he slumps there, momentarily stunned. Sakura grabs Sasuke’s hand with her good arm and screams, “come on!” 

She hauls him forward, towards Naruto, and he shakes off his stupor enough to grab onto Naruto’s jacket and sling Naruto’s body over his shoulder. 

And then they’re running, leaping into the trees as fast as their still-timorous legs can carry them. Sakura’s not sure how long they keep moving, but the sun has long set by the time they reach a quiet clearing where the twisting base of one of the trees has formed a natural hollow. 

“Let’s stop here,” Sasuke mutters, swaying as he sets down Naruto. 

Sakura agrees. Her arm is on fire, definitely cracked or sprained, and adrenaline is still leaching from her body in twitching waves. As she sinks to the ground she realizes that holy shit, she punched Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin, in the face. Obito and Kakashi aren’t going to believe it when she tells them. 

Presuming she lives long enough to tell them and Orochimaru doesn’t come back for revenge, that is. 

She shudders, then drags her mind to the present. She needs to check on Naruto, then try to set her arm. Sasuke is still kneeling by Naruto’s side, fingers on the pulse of his neck. 

“He seems okay,” Sasuke murmurs. “I’m not sure what Orochimaru did.” 

Sakura has a suspicion. She nudges Sasuke aside and pulls up the hem of Naruto’s black shirt. Infusing chakra into her palm, she passes it over Naruto’s stomach, revealing the Yondaime’s seal. And another laid on top of it. 

“Kuso.” 

“What’s wrong?” Sasuke asks, frowning down at the seal. 

Sakura shakes her head. “Orochimaru tampered with it. See this overlay? This a five-point seal. The Yondaime’s original one is four points. An odd number applied over an even number means that the seal is disrupted.” 

Sasuke curses. “And what does that mean?” 

“It’s probably messed up his chakra somehow,” Sakura guesses, wishing she’d gotten further into the advanced sealing theory book Kakashi bought her a few months ago. “He might not be able to channel it properly. But I can’t remove the seal, I’m not skilled enough. We need Kakashi-sensei.” 

Sasuke takes this in stride, nodding. “Do you think … the Kyuubi?” 

“No.” She can’t feel the Kyuubi’s chakra at all—almost as if it’s been locked away. 

“I guess that’s a relief,” Sasuke mutters. 

Sakura isn’t sure what else to do for Naruto besides let him regain consciousness on his own, so she helps Sasuke shift him to the back of the hollow. Once he’s positioned, Sasuke’s gaze turns to Sakura’s arm. 

“I’m fine,” Sakura insists, raising a glowing green palm to pass over her skin. “I think it’s just cracked, not broken.” 

She closes her eyes, stretching out tendrils of chakra past the barrier of flesh and into the bone itself, carefully knitting as many of the small fissures back together as she can. She isn’t advanced enough to completely heal it, but after a few minutes the pain has dulled to a manageable ache and she can move her arm freely. 

“See?” she declares, smiling at Sasuke. 

He doesn’t return it, just blinks at her. He looks pale and scared beneath the dirt streaked across his face, more rattled than she’s seen him in a long time, and she gives into the urge to hug him, reaching over and pulling him into her arms. Usually he’ll stiffen and grunt whenever Sakura or Naruto initiate physical affection, needing a moment of prideful resistance before he ultimately gives in. But tonight he just shivers and hooks his chin on her shoulder, returning the hug tightly. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs in her ear. “You saved me back there.” 

“You would’ve done the same,” she insists. 

Sasuke takes a deep breath and shifts back, but settles close to her—both of them staying between Naruto’s unconscious form and the opening of the hollow as a protective barrier. 

“We need to tell someone that Orochimaru’s here,” Sasuke says. 

“We need to tell Kakashi and Obito.” She doesn’t necessarily trust Konoha leadership right now. Orochimaru showing up in the middle of the Chuunin Exams? Could he really have slipped past everyone’s radar? And how did he know that they were going to be participating? Did someone in Konoha tip him off? 

“Yeah,” Sasuke agrees. “Unfortunately, probably the only way to talk to them is to finish this test.” 

“Do you think Orochimaru will attack us again?” Sakura wonders. 

Sasuke pauses for a moment, thinking, then shakes his head. “No, I don’t think he wants to risk exposing himself. And…” he gnaws at his lip. “He seems to think that I’ll come to him willingly.” 

Sakura elbows him gently. “Good thing he doesn’t know you at all.” 

That finally earns her a small smile. “Yeah, he doesn’t.” 

He shifts up into a crouch. “We can get an earth scroll tomorrow, then head straight for the tower. This seems like a good place to camp for tonight. You wait here, I’ll go get us some supplies.” 

Sakura opens her mouth, protest ready. “I can—” 

Sasuke’s hand lands on her shoulder, cutting her off. “Sakura, I owe you,” he says. “Let me go get food, okay?” 

Well, she supposes he’s right. With a huff, she sits back down and nods in agreement. He smirks at her, amused, and then ducks out of the little hollow and into the darkened forest. Sakura pulls a kunai from her pouch and another scroll, just in case. 

Tells herself to stay calm. Breathe. They’re going to survive this. 

_ _ 

Sasuke wasn’t planning on wandering too far away from camp, but the immediate vicinity yields no edible plants or wildlife to hunt, so he finds himself drifting towards the river. It seems that most teams have settled in for the night—too afraid to wander into the depths of the twisted forest after dark. Sasuke doesn’t blame them. His heart thuds heavy in his chest as he creeps through the trees, avoiding the pinpricks of light from distant campfires. Every rustle and flicker of shadow has him tensing and he hates the fear that Orochimaru has planted deep in his stomach, the way it coils and twists through his guts like a poisonous snake. 

Obito has warned him about the Sharingan for as long as Sasuke has been his student. That people covet it, powerful people, and some of them might try to take it. That Sasuke may no longer have a clan but in this, he will always be marked as an Uchiha. He wonders now if Obito would be surprised that one of those powerful people includes a Legendary Sannin. 

(He also might owe Obito an apology for all the times he got angry at Obito’s insistence on keeping his Sharingan hidden, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Sasuke reaches the river, finally, and drops down from the trees onto the empty bank. He unslings the three canteens he’d taken with him and fills them, pausing to adjust the Konoha hitai-ate still tied around his arm. As he washes his hands in the river, he flashes back to the fight, to Orochimaru’s sadistic laughter and his certainty that Sasuke would willingly seek him out for power. 

Perhaps the most unsettling thing is that a year ago, Sasuke might have. He can clearly see a different road taken: one where Obito didn’t come crashing back into his life and shook him lose from his rage and grief, one where he stayed in Konoha with inferior sensei who only fed his ego and damning pride, one where he pushed Sakura and Naruto away and walked a path of revenge on his own, turning into a dark and twisted thing in the process. 

He shudders, screwing the lid back on the last canteen with unsteady fingers. That road is gone, erased, and he knows his heart now. Even if Orochimaru’s mention of Itachi rattled him, it didn’t fill him with blind hatred like it once would have. He’s not going to abandon his teammates and his sensei to align with a madman. 

His hand drifts up to touch his neck and another memory flashes through his mind: Orochimaru rushing towards him with fangs extended and Sakura’s furious roar. Whatever she saved him from, he’s going to be grateful for a long time. 

Putting the canteens aside, he sets about quickly weaving some nearby vines into a makeshift net—grateful once again for Kakashi’s constant survival lessons, as infuriating as they often are. Once he’s speared five fish with kunai, he stuffs them into the net and slings it over his shoulder, then ties the canteens to his belt.  Shit, he’s probably been gone at least two hours at this point, and he needs to get back to Sakura. Fear and worry still snap at his nerves, urging him faster as he takes to the trees again. Did he make a mistake? Leaving her and Naruto alone? 

He pushes himself harder, ignoring his own exhaustion. When he gets closer to the clearing, he hears the unmistakable sounds of a battle and swears loudly. Fuck, he was gone too long. What if Orochimaru did return? He drops the fish and canteens in a nearby bush and activates his Sharingan as he lands on a high-up branch at the edge of the clearing, quickly taking in the scene below. 

Three enemies, all from Oto—one kunoichi and two shinobi; the one closest to Sakura, bandages wrapped around his face, clutches some kind of brace with holes in it and a large crack down the middle;  clear signs of a fight: a crater in the earth, kunai and shuriken embedded in one tree, lingering mist that stings Sasuke’s eyes; Sakura on one knee, blood pouring from her ear and a kunai gripped tight in her hand, eyes blazing and… 

… and Team 10, looking scared out of their minds but standing between Sakura and the three Oto nin. 

“I told you to get out of here!” Sakura yells. “I can handle them.” 

“Shut up, Forehead Girl,” Ino shouts back. “You can barely stand up.” 

The Oto nin seem unphased by this display. The one with the bandages takes a step forward. “I’ll ask again, where is Sasuke?” 

Sakura pushes herself to her feet. Her balance seems off, probably an effect of her bleeding ears. Sasuke reasons these three must use Sound techniques, in order to live up to their village name. But even wobbly and bruised, Sakura is defiant. 

“And I’ll tell you again,” she snarls, hands getting ready to form seals. “ Fuck off.” 

They haven’t noticed him yet, but he thinks Sakura has, and those look like seals for an Earth technique.

Sakura glances at Team 10.  “Take care of the kunoichi.”

Sasuke aims for the Oto closest to him, who also seems the least injured. And then several things happen at once: 

Sakura slams her hands into the earth and screams, “Doton: Ganchūsō!”

Shikamaru forms a seal and his shadow morphs, rushing towards the kunoichi. She yells as she’s frozen in place, trapped by the paralyzing jutsu —

Spikes shoot up from the earth, piercing Bandages’s shoulder and further damaging the brace on his arm—

Sasuke, aided by the Sharigan, shoots from the trees and slams feet first into the third shinobi’s back, crushing him into the earth—

Chouji transforms into a massive rolling ball and crashes into the kunoichi, sending her flying back into a tree with a pained yell before she crumples to the ground, unmoving—

And Sasuke wraps a wire around the Oto nin’s neck, pulling tight. 

“Enough,” he snaps. 

“Sasuke,” Sakura shouts, “watch out for—” 

The Oto nin twists in Sasuke’s grip and aims a hand at his face. There’s a strange metal hole in the center of his palm and Sasuke has just enough time to brace himself before a percussion wave blows him backwards. He skids through the dirt and surges to his feet again, inexplicably furious. 

Enough. It’s been an entire day of terror and pain and he’s done running. Done being a target. Done watching his teammates suffer. Metal Palms raises his hands again, no doubt preparing for another blast. Sasuke’s hands fly through a new set of seals. He hasn’t practiced this jutsu as much but the element of surprise should be on his side. 

“ Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!” 

He spits several fireballs from his mouth and Metal Palms laughs as they hurtle towards them, raising his hands again. Sasuke ducks as predictably another sonic wave arcs through the clearing. It extinguishes the flames, revealing the shuriken concealed in them. Metal Palms yells as they connect, gashing his arms and legs. Sasuke takes advantage of his distraction to get beneath him, aiming a sweeping kick at his legs. 

Bandages, still pinned by Sakura’s earth spikes, tries to shout a warning but it’s too late. Sasuke knocks the Oto nin back into the dirt and grabs both his arms, planting a foot in the middle of his back. This move he learned from Kakashi, and he feels a little bad for using it now, but this is a survival test and these three came here to kill. So Sasuke grits his teeth and pushes his foot down while yanking hard on Metal Palms's arms at the same time. Both shoulders dislocate with twin pops and Metal Palms screams in pain, collapsing into the dirt when Sasuke releases him. 

Sasuke turns toward Bandages and finds Sakura with a kunai to his throat. 

“You want to keep going?” she asks grimly and Bandages shakes his head. 

“You’re right,” he rumbles in his deep voice, sounding shaken. “Enough, I yield.” 

“Hand over your scroll,” Sakura demands and Bandages reaches his free arm into his pouch, pulling out an earth scroll that he drops at Sakura’s feet. 

In return, Sakura punches the spike trapping Bandages, breaking it. He collapses to his knees with a gasp, then scrambles to collect his two unconscious teammates, slinging them over his shoulders. Sasuke watches him vanish into the trees without a backward glance, shadows swallowing him instantly as though he was never here at all. 

Which leaves only Team 10, clustered together at the edge of the clearing and staring in shock. Sasuke doesn’t think they’ll attack him over the earth scroll but his nerves are frayed and he’d rather not take the risk. He raises a kunai, keeping his Sharingan activated, and steps firmly in front of Sakura, who is carefully touching her bloody ears. 

“And you three?” 

Ino doesn’t move —wide-eyed gaze fixed on Sakura—but Shikamaru quickly raises his hands in surrender. “You can have the scroll,” he says. “We don’t want any trouble.” He tugs on Ino and Chouji’s clothes, backing towards the bushes. “We’ll find somewhere else to make camp.” 

Sasuke holds his position until he can no longer sense their chakra, then drops the kunai and collapses next to Sakura in the dirt. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

Sakura’s hands are glowing again and she nods as she holds them to her ears. “Yeah, I think most of my hearing is coming back.” 

Fucking Sound nin. 

“What happened?” Sasuke asks. 

Sakura winces. “It was partly my fault. I noticed that they were watching the camp and decided on a preemptive strike instead of waiting for them to attack. I … might have underestimated them a bit. Though what the hell took you so long?” 

Now it’s Sasuke’s turn to wince. “I ended up going to the river.” 

Sakura sighs at him, but doesn’t scold him any further. The both look worse for wear now, covered in dirt and scrapes and bruises. Naruto is still unconscious, sheltered in the hollow. Sasuke picks up the earth scroll and turns it over in his hands. 

“They said you were their target,” Sakura says suddenly. “They kept asking where you were. Said they’d been ordered to kill you.” 

“They must be working for Orochimaru,” Sasuke mutters darkly, slipping the scroll into his hip pouch. 

Sakura frowns. “But it seems like Orochimaru wants you alive.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind? When you stopped him from doing … whatever he was going to do.” 

But even as the words leave his mouth, Sasuke doubts they’re true. Whatever game Orochimaru is currently playing with them, it seems a lot more complicated than sending three relatively low-level ninja to tie up loose ends. From the solemn expression on Sakura’s face, she’s reached the same conclusion. 

“We have both scrolls,” she says. “We could…” 

Sasuke shakes his head. “You’re injured.” He gestures to the blood smeared down both sides of her neck and the bandage wrapped around her arm. “And Naruto’s still unconscious. We can wait until sunup and head to the tower then. You both need to rest.” 

“So do you,” Sakura huffs, but allows Sasuke to help her back to the hollow and sinks down next to Naruto with an exhausted sigh. 

He stares at the slump of her spine and feels a strange rush of pride in his chest. Everyone underestimated her today, dismissed her as weak, and she surprised them all. He’s glad, not for the first time, that she’s on his team. 

“Wait here,” he says and hurries back outside before she can stop him, returning to the bush where he hid the fish and canteens. 

Mercifully both are still intact. He’s too nervous to risk a campfire in order to cook the fish properly, so he makes due with a dialed back version of Great Fireball, leaving them scorched but cooked and still mostly edible. Sakura doesn’t complain when he hands her one on a makeshift plate, fashioned from a large tree leaf, and they eat in relative silence, pausing every so often to check on Naruto. He remains unconscious, but his breathing is steady. Sasuke hopes he’ll wake up on his own tomorrow and the effects of Orochimaru’s seal won’t stop them from making it to the tower. 

Or cause Naruto more suffering. 

“I’ll take first watch,” he tells Sakura when they’ve finished cleaning up the remnants of dinner. 

“Fine,” Sakura says, laying down beside Naruto. “But wake me in a few hours.” 

Sasuke nods, already planning on letting her sleep through the night instead. It feels like the least he can do, considering that her and Naruto are now caught up in this mess surrounding him. He knows, logically, that none of this is his fault, but it still feels like they got hurt because of him and he wants to make up for that as much as he can.

It doesn’t take long for Sakura to fall asleep and Sasuke to be left alone with the turmoil of his thoughts and the eerie hush of the forest. He blows out a long breath and settles in for the night, kunai within easy reach. 

He wants to talk to Obito, badly, and he just hopes that tomorrow he’ll have the chance. 

_ _ 

Kakashi’s on edge, to the point where Obito wakes before dawn on the second day of the survival test and finds him already on the roof, staring out towards Training Ground 44 with dark eyes.

“What’s eating you?” he asks, settling down on the tile next to him. 

“Something has the ANBU nervous.” 

A chill trickles down Obito’s spine. “How do you know?” 

Kakashi shrugs. “Some things don’t change. I can sense it. They’re riled up.” 

Obito follows Kakashi’s gaze to the looming specter of the training ground and worry twists sharp in his gut. “Do you think it has something to do with the kids?” 

“I don’t know,” Kakashi murmurs. His visible eye shifts, following two dark blurs as they bounce across the rooftops on their way to the Hokage tower. “But I have a really bad feeling, Obito.” 

Obito frowns and pulls up his sleeve. Touches his fingers to the seal on his arm. “Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

Awareness comes back to Naruto in increments. First, he feels cool air against his skin, then his ears decide to start working again and he can hear the distant murmur of voices and the rustle of leaves in the wind. Physical sensation creeps back in enough to inform him that he’s lying on hard ground and he’s got something draped over him like a blanket. And then the pain arrives with a vengeance. 

Shit, his head is killing him, what the hell? Did he hit it on something? He searches back through the blurry mess of his memories, trying to sort the jumble back into proper order: 

• Left the house for the second stage of the exam
• Endured speech by Intense Jounin Lady
• Signed the dumb waiver
• Entered the Forest of Death
• Got chased by a giant snake
• Escaped the giant snake
• Found Sasuke and Sakura fighting a scary kunoichi
• Tried to attack the scary kunoichi
• Got grabbed by the scary kunoichi 

And then darkness, his memories stop there. Alarm shoves away the last of the fog lingering in his mind. Sakura and Sasuke, they were still trying to fight the kunoichi, what if something happened to them, he has to—

He sits upright with a gasp and opens his eyes, instinctively reaching for a kunai at his belt. Light floods his retinas, temporarily blinding him, and fiery agony roars to life in his stomach. He gasps a second time and hunches over, nearly dropping the kunai as he wraps an arm around his middle. Gods, what did that kunoichi do? 

“Naruto?” a voice says, tense with worry, and a hand lands on his shoulder. 

Naruto takes a deep breath, trying to wrangle the pain back into a more manageable box. Fortunately, it seems to be receding a little the longer he stays upright and conscious. 

“Naruto?” the voice, that he now recognizes as Sakura’s, asks again. 

“I’m okay,” he manages and tries opening his eyes again, blinking rapidly to get them to adjust. It helps that Sasuke is crouched in front of him, blocking the sun. As his vision clears, he realizes they’re in some kind of hollow at the base of a tree, massive roots mostly shielding them from view. “What happened?” 

“Orochimaru did something to your seal,” Sakura explains. “I’m not sure what.” 

Hold on. “Orochimaru? ” 

As in the Legendary Sannin Orochimaru? The one mysteriously exiled from Konoha that Kakashi and Obito mentioned hoping they never crossed paths with— that Orochimaru? Is … here? Disguised as a kunoichi from Grass? Why? 

His head throbs. 

“Yeah,” Sasuke says, grim. “He’s after me for some reason.” 

“The Sharingan?” It makes the most sense. Powerful kekkei genkai, potentially power-hungry rogue shinobi—a match made in hell. 

“That’s the theory,” Sakura says. 

Naruto pauses to take them in, frowning at the bandages on Sakura’s arm and the cuts and bruises littering her and Sasuke’s skin. Their clothes are torn and dirty, too, and they both look exhausted and wan. From the fall of the sunlight, he guesses it’s probably late morning, which means he was unconscious for an entire night…. 

“I slept through some really important stuff, didn’t I?” Guilt stabs at him. He rushed into a situation and got himself fucked up and left them on their own. That’s a rookie mistake and he should know better by now. 

“You were unconscious,” Sasuke mutters, glaring like he can hear Naruto’s thoughts. “Not your fault, dobe.” 

“Yeah, we’re just glad you’re awake,” Sakura adds, punching him gently in the arm. “We don’t know what Orochimaru did so we thought we might have to carry you to the tower.” 

He decides not to tell them about the lingering pain in his stomach. It’s not bad enough to cripple him, so his body can shut up and let him focus on other priorities. 

“The tower?” 

Sakura nods. “We got a Heaven scroll off of the team from Oto.” 

“They attacked us,” Sasuke elaborates. 

“Well technically I attacked them first.” 

“Because they were planning on ambushing you.” 

“Yes. Anyway, they were after Sasuke too.” 

“And working with Orochimaru.” 

“Wow,” Naruto says, rubbing his temple. 

“Yeah,” Sakura says. “It’s been an … interesting twenty-four hours.” 

“No shit,” Sasuke grumbles. 

“But we have both scrolls now?” Naruto asks for clarification. “So we can head straight to the tower?” 

Sakura and Sasuke nod in unison. 

“Are you okay to head to the tower?” Naruto presses, gesturing to the bandages they’re sporting. 

Sakura huffs—a stubborn clench to her jaw. “We’ll manage. I think it’s better to try to get to the tower as fast as possible. We can rest there. Out here we’re vulnerable to other teams and who knows if Orochimaru or those Sound nin are going to try something again. Besides, someone,” a glare at Sasuke, “didn’t wake me for watch duty last night so I got some decent sleep.” 

“You needed it,” Sasuke says, defensive. 

“So did you!” 

Naruto has the distinct feeling they’ve been arguing about this all morning and makes the executive decision to stop them before they can gear up for another round. “Right, okay, tower!” He claps his hands together. “Let’s get moving.” 

Sakura frowns at him. “You should eat something first.” 

The thought of food makes his already upset stomach churn with renewed vigor and he’s sure that if he tries to eat anything right now, he’ll probably throw it up. Violently and unpleasantly. Like the time he accidentally ate spoiled food when he was nine and spent three days hunched over the toilet in his apartment. 

“I’m good.” 

Now Sasuke’s frowning, great. “Are you?” 

“I’m good enough,” he amends, because he doesn’t lie to them if he can help it. “But I don’t think food’s a good idea.” 

He hauls himself into a crouch and the world sways suddenly. His bones feel strangely heavy and beneath the pain in his stomach is an emptiness he’s never experienced before—like he’s been cut off from some vital piece of himself … or it’s been ripped away completely. He shudders. 

“You said Orochimaru tampered with my seal?” he asks as he puts a hand against the tree trunk to keep his balance. 

“Yeah,” Sakura takes his arm and helps him out into the open air. Grudgingly, he lets her because it would be more embarrassing to fall on his face and that’s a risk right now. “Do you feel different?” 

“My chakra feels weird,” he admits. “And I feel … it’s like there’s a void? But I’m not sure what’s missing.” 

“I think he might have cut you off from the Kyuubi,” Sakura says. 

Huh. Naruto’s wanted to be separated from that bastard for his entire life, but he never thought it would feel so wrong. Kakashi-sensei once said that if a bijuu is removed from a jinchuuriki, the jinchuuriki dies. For the first time, Naruto actually believes him. 

“Naruto?” 

Naruto shakes his head, clearing away his worry and growing fear, and smiles at Sakura. “I’m okay.” 

“You don’t look okay, dobe,” Sasuke points out and Naruto glowers at him. 

“Like you look any better, bastard.” 

Sasuke grunts and Sakura rolls her eyes, which at least feels normal. “Well if everyone’s as okay as possible, then we should get moving.” 

Naruto couldn’t agree more. 

“We’ll need to approach carefully,” Sasuke says. “I’m sure teams will be camped by the tower waiting to ambush people.” 

“Yeah,” Sakura says, glancing down at her bandaged arm. “And I’d rather not fight anyone else right now.” 

No kidding. In their current state there’s a small but not insignificant chance that they could lose, which would probably mean giving their scrolls. 

“We’ll be as quiet as possible.” Sasuke adjusts his hitai-ate around his arm. “Stick to the shadows and try to avoid everyone until we make it to the tower.” 

Wait…. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Naruto says. Sasuke arches a dubious eyebrow at him, just because he’s a bastard, and Naruto rolls his eyes as he forms the seal for Kage Bunshin. 

Six clones pop into existence, looking at him expectantly. 

“Right. Get into teams of three and four of you henge into Sasuke and Sakura.” 

Satisfying understanding dawns on the real Sakura and Sasuke’s faces as two sets of clones shift into exact replicas of them, right down to the bruises and bandages. 

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto turns to her. “Do you have any spare scrolls?” 

Sakura rifles around in her pack. “I should, hang on … aha!” She pulls out two scrolls. “These are just manuals, I can sacrifice them.” And because she’s Sakura and smarter than he’ll ever hope to be, she immediately changes them to look like a Heaven scroll and an Earth scroll. 

“Perfect,” Naruto says and passes the Heaven scroll to one group and the Earth to the other. “Okay, listen up!” All the clones stop bickering amongst each other and stand at attention. “Team One, you approach the tower from the west. Team Two, from the east. Don’t provoke anyone but don’t try to conceal yourselves that much either. If anyone attacks you, fight them off as long as you can. Got it?” 

The two Narutos salute him. “Hai!” 

They scatter into the trees in opposite directions. 

“Okay, hopefully that should buy us a little time.” 

“Not bad, dobe,” Sasuke says, sounding genuinely impressed. 

“Hey, I have good ideas sometimes!” 

“Yeah. Sometimes.” 

“Teme.” 

Sakura clears her throat loudly and Naruto shuts up. It’s mostly playful bickering, anyway. He’s moved past the point of thinking that Sasuke actually looks down on him or doesn’t care about him. And he knows that Sasuke knows the same is true for him. They’ll just never admit it out loud to each other, in keeping with the unspoken pact they’ve made in the last year to preserve their dignity. 

“We should move,” Sakura says. “Before those decoys get discovered.” 

Naruto salutes her and together the three of them take to the trees. As planned, they keep a low profile, making sure to stay up in the branches and concealed as much as possible. They pass another team from Konoha that Naruto doesn’t recognize and looks to be in rough shape, but the three boys don’t notice them—too caught up arguing about their Earth scroll to look up into the branches overhead. At another point, Naruto thinks he hears screaming deeper into the forest and unconsciously picks up his pace. 

His body still feels weird and off, but he’s channeling chakra okay and the pain has dulled to a barely noticeable ache so whatever Orochimaru did hasn’t crippled him, at least. He should be able to advance to whatever the next round is. Hopefully. 

After what feels like ages, but also very quickly, the tower comes into view, rising above the thick canopy. The sun has once again started to set while the full moon looms bright in the nearly cloudless sky. They stop about half a kilometer away to catch their breath and Naruto suddenly gets a flash of memory—a shinobi from Rain and a kunai to the face. 

“The east team’s been ambushed,” he relays to Sakura and Sasuke. “West one seems okay for now.” 

“Okay, then I say we just run for it,” Sakura says. 

“Teams will have laid traps around,” Sasuke counters. 

“Then we run for it while being smart and keeping an eye out for traps.” 

“I’m with Sakura,” Naruto says. He feels like a sitting duck the longer they stay out here. 

Sasuke sighs in defeat. “Fine. We run for it.” 

Sakura squeezes his arm in both gratitude and sympathy. 

They run for it, sprinting and jumping as quickly as they can through the dense forest. There’s one close call with a wire trap and a few shadows that move in the corner of Naruto’s eye—too blurry to tell if they’re human or animal. But no one challenges them. They’re probably early enough that the majority of the teams are still battling it out further afield. 

“Yes!” Naruto crows when they land on tower steps and reach the orange double doors. “We—” He cuts himself off abruptly when he notices the team at the second set of doors, all staring at them. 

Suna, and in the middle: Sabaku no Gaara, with his fathomless blue eyes. Naruto feels an instant chill run down his spine. The boy in kabuki makeup smirks at them but Gaara simply turns away, pulling open the doors and striding inside. 

Creepy. 

“They finished fast,” Sakura notes. 

“Are you surprised?” Sasuke asks, frowning after them. 

“No.” Disturbed, is what Sakura’s face says and Naruto feels the echo in his gut. 

Gods, he hopes they don’t have to face Sabaku no Gaara directly at any point during this test. But one thing at a time. He wrenches open their own set of doors, revealing a sterile and kinda eerie hallway with balconies running above them and a massive scroll hung on the far wall. Naruto squints at it as they approach, trying to figure out what the hell it says. 

“Is this some kind of riddle?” 

Sakura steps past him and starts reading aloud. “If ‘Heaven’ does not exist, enrich your knowledge and prepare for the chance. If ‘Earth’ does not exist, run the fields in search of an advantage. Open the series of Heaven and Earth and the perilous way shall be redressed. This is namely the secret of ‘the one that guides...’” 

“So it is a riddle,” Naruto grumbles. He hates riddles and the shinobi fondness for them. Just say what you mean! It’s much faster and more efficient. 

“It looks like there are letters missing,” Sakura says, ignoring him and stepping closer to the scroll. “It probably has to do with the scrolls.” She pulls a separate scroll out of her pack and unfurls it, activating the seal to release the Heaven and Earth scrolls from the pocket dimension. They clatter to the floor and Naruto bends to pick them up. “I think we’re supposed to open them.” 

“Then why can’t they just say that? ‘Hey, congrats, you made it, you can open those stupid scrolls now.’ That saves so much time. ” 

Sasuke laughs under his breath. “But then it wouldn’t be a test of our information gathering skills,” he says with great sarcasm. 

Naruto dramatically smacks his own forehead. “Right, of course, how could I forget information gathering skills! I’m sure the enemy is always gonna speak in cryptic riddles that I’ll have to solve in order to learn anything!” 

Sakura sighs. “Just give me the scrolls.” 

Naruto hands her the Heaven scroll and keeps Earth for himself. Sasuke crowds close to them, actually looking a little nervous. 

“If this blows up in our faces I’m blaming you, Sakura-chan,” Naruto says grimly, running a finger along the edge of the scroll. 

“Shut up and open it,” Sakura hisses. 

Naruto peels the edge away and Sakura does the same. Together, they unfurl them enough to read the symbols and writing on the inside. Which … looks like gibberish to Naruto. “What? What is this?” It kinda seems like a summoning jutsu, similar to what he’s seen Kakashi-sensei use for his ninken, but the symbol in the center of the circle is all wrong. It almost looks like…. 

“A man?” Sakura says in confusion, just as telltale smoke rises in a thickening plume from the scrolls. “Let go of it!” Sakura yells, throwing her scroll down the hallway. 

Naruto copies her, hurling his scroll in the same direction. The smoke continues to billow, obscuring their vision, and Naruto settles instinctively into a fighting stance, hand hovering near his kunai pouch. Is the next stage some kind of battle with a powerful shinobi? He wouldn’t put it past this crazy test to throw something like that at them right after a survival mission. Maybe they can get out of it by explaining that they’ve already fought a super powerful shinobi and really, they deserve a break. 

Someone from within the smoke coughs and then a very familiar voice says, “Fuck, why are summoning jutsu so dramatic? ” 

“Obito-sensei,” Naruto breathes in relief as the smoke finally dissipates enough for them to see Obito. He’s clad in uniform, complete with flak vest, and sporting a forehead protector but he’s got his usual patch over his missing eye and his black hair is as unruly as ever. Naruto’s never been so glad to see him and he can’t help darting forward and slamming into Obito, just to check that he’s real and also hug the life out of him. 

Obito lets out a startled oof upon impact, but doesn’t pull away as Naruto’s arms go around his middle, just pats him quizzically on the head. “Hi?” he says. “Are we going to need to have a conversation about separation anxiety, Naruto? Because it’s only been about forty-eight hours and…” 

He trails off, probably now noticing the state of Sasuke and Sakura. His voice shifts, turning serious. “What the hell happened? You three look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off and the enormity of the last two days settles in, Nartuo can feel himself starting to shake. He doubts Sakura and Sasuke are holding themselves together much better but he doesn’t want to let go of Obito to look. Obito’s gloved hand returns to the top of his head, but now it’s protective. 

“Can we talk in private?” Sakura asks. 

“And why are you here?” Sasuke adds, though his words tremble. Like he’s relieved enough to cry. 

“Well, technically a chuunin examiner is supposed to do this part, but considering your unique situation, Sandaime thought it would be better if Kakashi or I did it. I won Rock, Paper, Scissors so here I am and Kakashi’s brooding back in the village.” Obito sighs. “I’m supposed to explain that dumb proverb on the wall to you and extoll the virtues of being a chuunin before I escort you to your quarters, but honestly the speech is boring and annoying and I’d rather not give it. So let’s skip straight to the quarters, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Naruto agrees, reluctantly letting go. Obito ruffles his hair. 

“Right, this way.” 

He leads them down several winding hallways and up two flights of stairs before pushing open a door to a small room with futons and a table, flicking on a dim overhead light. Naruto resists the overwhelming urge to flop down on one of the futons and sleep for the next three days. Obito locks the door behind them and then leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What happened?” he asks again, regarding them all with his dark eye. 

Sakura squares her shoulders. “We were attacked near the start of the exam. By Orochimaru.” 

Obito’s eye widens in shock. “Orochimaru? You’re sure about that?” 

“It’s what he introduced himself as,” Sasuke says. “He was disguised as a kunoichi from Grass at first.” 

“And he attacked you?” 

They all nod and Obito rubs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to absorb this. “Why?”

“He’s interested in me,” Sasuke says grimly. “He told me that my eyes hold more power than Itachi. And that if I think I want to meet him again, I should reach the top of this test.” 

Obito curses under his breath. “How did you get away? Did he let you go?” 

“I think he was going easy on us,” Sakura admits. “But he was trying to do something to Sasuke and I punched him in the face.” 

Obito’s mouth drops open and Naruto has to fight down a smile at how flabbergasted their sensei looks. He doesn’t think they’ve ever managed to surprise Obito so much in such a short time period, even that one time they landed a hit on him with Kakashi’s help. “You … you punched Orochimaru, the Legendary Sannin, in the face? ”

Sakura looks very smug, chest puffed up a little with pride. “I did.” 

“They should promote you to chuunin just for that,” Obito mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did anything else happen?” 

“Orochimaru did something to Naruto’s seal, but I’m not sure what,” Sakura says. 

Obito frowns. “Hmm, fuinjutsu isn’t my forte. We’ll need Kakashi.” 

“When he’s coming here?” Sasuke asks. 

“Technically, not until the next part of the exam in three days. But we’re still shinobi, even without our chakra. I might be able to sneak him in early. Are you okay in the meantime, Naruto?” 

“Yeah,” Naruto nods. “My chakra feels a little weird, but otherwise I’m fine.” 

“Good.” Obito rubs his face again. “Orochimaru, fuck. Okay.” He gestures to them. “Sit tight for now, okay? It sounds like he’s not going to try anything for the meantime. I’ll debrief with Kakashi and we’ll figure out where to go from here.” 

Not quite the concrete assurance Naruto was hoping for, but Kakashi and Obito are some of the best shinobi he’s ever seen. He trusts them to figure this out because it’s definitely over his head. 

“Wait,” Sasuke says. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” 

Naruto almost protests, but then he sees the fear in Sasuke’s eyes and the tremor in his hand—the almost desperate way he’s staring at Obito. He snaps his mouth closed. “Oi, Sakura-chan, let’s go find the cafeteria, I’m starving.” 

“Me too,” Sakura agrees readily. 

Naruto squeezes Sasuke’s shoulder on his way out the door and Sasuke manages a smile in their direction. It’s weak and uncertain, but Sasuke’s still with them and that’s all that matters in Naruto’s book. They’ll get through this, he’s sure, as long as they stick together. 

_ _ 

Sasuke waits until Naruto’s and Sakura’s voices have faded before turning to Obito. Wind slips in through the open window, tugging on his clothes and sending a shiver through him. He hates that he’s still so rattled. Hates that Orochimaru managed to get under his skin this much. Hates that once again, the specter of Itachi looms, inescapable. 

“What’s up?” Obito asks casually, but his gaze is gentle. Like he can see all the writhing, hissing fear inside Sasuke. 

Sasuke struggles to organize his thoughts into words, to order the questions that he wants to ask. He feels like he’s fumbling around in the dark and he has been since the massacre. The rage and hatred have faded, but in their wake have come curiosity and an increasing need to understand. He doesn’t necessarily care about why, but how? There is so much he doesn’t know about his own bloodline, his own eyes, and it’s frustrating. 

“I need to know more,” he says to Obito. “About our clan. About the Mangekyō.” 

Obito weighs this for a moment and Sasuke lines up his arguments in preparation for Obito’s refusal. But it doesn’t come. Obito just sighs and slumps against the wall. “I guess with Orochimaru in the mix, it’s important,” he says. “And we are Uchiha. We can’t escape our stupid eyes forever.” That last part seems more for himself, muttered under his breath before he looks back to Sasuke. “Okay, what do you want to know?” 

Sasuke takes a seat on one of the futons. “Just how powerful is it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Don’t dodge the question—” 

“I’m serious,” Obito cuts him off. “I don’t know. I didn’t have anyone in the clan to train me, or access to any stored knowledge. Everything I know about Mangekyō, I’ve figured out on my own or with Kakashi, through trial and error. So I don’t know. It could be I’ve reached my limit, or there might be more I’m capable of. I’m still trying to figure it out.” 

Hn. Not ideal. “Would Itachi have known?” 

“Maybe,” Obito concedes. “Probably.” His eye narrows. “What exactly did he do to you, the night of the massacre?” 

Sasuke winces. They’ve avoided talking about the massacre any further than in passing, and certainly not the details, but he supposes if he wants Obito to be honest with him, he needs to be honest too. “He … he…” He flinches again, memory welling up. The blood, the bodies, and Itachi in the midst of it all, deaf to his screams and pleas to stop. 

The futon dips, Obito sitting down next to him, and an arm settles over his shoulders, anchoring. He sucks in a fortifying breath. “He showed me it. All of it. The whole massacre from start to finish. But it … it didn’t feel like genjutsu. It felt real. As real as if I had been there. And it felt like it went on forever, for years, but it was seconds.” He leans into Obito’s side, feeling a little undignified at needing this comfort but secure in the knowledge that Obito won’t judge him for it. “It was Mangekyō, wasn’t it?” 

“It was,” Obito says quietly. “I do know that it's different for every user. I’m not sure why, but it is. It’s part of what makes it so powerful. Each eye gives you access to a unique, devastating ability. In addition to everything a normal Sharingan can do.” He laughs sadly. “It’s why our clan nearly tore itself apart trying to obtain Mangekyō. I’m not bragging when I say this, Sasuke, but I’m pretty sure I’m one of the most powerful shinobi alive. Most things can’t even touch me. And yeah, I’m skilled, very skilled, but Mangekyō plays a big part in that. How can you defeat something you can never land a single hit on? Not to mention someone that can teleport? Or has access to a completely different dimension they can hide all sorts of shit in?” 

Sasuke snorts. “Yeah, you are grossly overpowered.” 

Obito elbows him, but doesn’t disagree. “Also, it differs between eyes, too, not just users.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Kakashi and I both use Kamui, but my eye has close range ability. Basically I can teleport myself, parts of myself, or anyone I’m in direct contact with. But Kakashi’s eye is long-range. He can move distant objects into our shared dimension or create like a magnetic field that sucks targets in. He can also teleport himself, but only as a whole. Not pieces of his body like I can.” 

Sasuke hums, mulling this over. “So you’re saying Itachi could have other abilities besides what he used on me?” 

“Most likely.” 

That’s an unsettling thought. 

“Also, Kakashi and I are unique in that we share one set of Sharingan between two people,” Obito continues. “There’s a chance that if both eyes were returned to me, I’d unlock new abilities of some kind.” 

“So you could become even more powerful?” 

Obito shrugs. “Potentially. But I’m not going to find out.” 

Sasuke nods. He’s come to appreciate this about Obito: that he’s up front and realistic about his abilities and his power level, but he also doesn’t feel the need to elevate himself further. He has a distinct feeling that if Obito were to lose his Mangekyō permanently, not much would change about the kind of shinobi he is at his core. And Sasuke hopes that can be true of himself some day. 

He turns his thoughts to Orochimaru. “So Orochimaru probably doesn’t just want the Sharingan, he wants the Mangekyō.” 

Obito’s arm lifts from his shoulder as Obito shifts forward, a contemplative, disturbed look on his face. “That’s a sound theory.” 

“And I’m the best target, the weakest link,” Sasuke says. 

“Sasuke,” Obito chides. 

Sasuke waves him off. “No, I’m not saying that to be self-deprecating. It’s a fact, isn’t it? You and Itachi are more powerful than me, simply because you have the Mangekyō and more years of training and experience. So it makes sense that I’d be a target for someone like Orochimaru. But he’d need me to awaken it first, before he could take it.” He frowns. “Seems like a lot of work.” 

Obito laughs, sharp. “It is, but not if you’re playing the long game. I don’t know much about Orochimaru, but he used to be praised for his strategy. He’s good at long games. So say he takes in a young student who is bitter with Konoha and angry and seeking power. He molds that student how he wants and then points him as a weapon towards the source of the student’s anger: his older brother. With any luck, the student kills his brother, awakens Mangekyō, and then Orochimaru can take his eyes. Plus another threat has been eliminated, with Itachi dead.” 

“It would be a good plan,” Sasuke acquiesces. “If I was still bitter and angry and seeking power.” 

“And there we encounter the fatal flaw,” Obito says, squeezing his shoulder. 

“He could still just try to take me by force.” 

“Which is what I’m afraid of.” Obito sighs again and rubs the back of his neck. “I just … why now? In the middle of the Chuunin Exams? He’s taking a huge risk.” 

“I thought it was obvious,” Sasuke says. “He’s afraid of you, right? You said it yourself, you’re one of the most powerful shinobi alive. So he must know that if he goes up against you, and Kakashi, there’s a good chance he won’t win. Unless you’re vulnerable.” He gestures to the seal on Obito’s human arm, visible where he’s rolled up his sleeve, and watches understanding dawn rapidly on Obito’s face. 

“Shit, you’re right. But considering he knew we were going to be in Konoha for the Exams … someone must have told him. Someone high up. And they must have something to gain from all this. Big enough that they’re willing to give up an Uchiha to get it.” 

A chill runs down Sasuke’s spine that has nothing to do with the open window. “Do we need to pull out of the Exams?” 

“Not yet,” Obito says, but his expression remains grim. “We don’t have enough information. And there’s a chance that Sandaime wouldn’t even let us. It would reflect badly on the village to have top contestants suddenly pull out in the middle of the exams, especially if he’s supposed to be showcasing that Kakashi and I are still loyal to Konoha.” He pauses, thinking. “‘Reach the top of this test,’ Orochimaru said.” 

Sasuke nods. 

“So that means whatever he's planning is probably not gonna happen until the final stage, a month from now.” 

“And he’s just going to lie low until then?” 

“Most likely. He’s still a Sannin. He’s come this far almost undetected, I’m sure he’ll be able to give ANBU a runaround for a month.” 

“And we’re just going to … focus on the Exams?” 

That seems impossible, considering what he now knows and the very personal threat looming on the horizon. He suddenly misses the first stage when his biggest worry was if Naruto was going to be able to cheat subtly enough for them to pass. 

“Yeah.” Obito crouches in front of him, dark eye serious. “Kakashi and I are also pretty formidable shinobi, in case you haven’t noticed. Chakra or no chakra, we’re still capable of gathering information and doing recon. So let us do that, and you kids worry about passing the next stage. It’s what we came here for, after all.” 

Sasuke blows out a long breath and nods. “Okay.” 

“And Sasuke.” He looks back up to meet Obito’s gaze again, watches the moonlight outside deepen the scars on the right half of his face. He looks both young and ancient, full of contradictions and burning with passion. Not for the first time, Sasuke wonders what his life would have been like if he really was the only one left. If his strange and fierce and kind-hearted cousin hadn’t come crashing back into it. 

Not for the first time, he thinks it would have been infinitely worse. 

“Sasuke, you’re not alone,” Obito says, with quiet intensity. “Please remember that. You’re my student and my family and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. That’s the promise I made when I agreed to train you.” 

“I know,” Sasuke reassures him. 

You’ve proven that to me, he thinks, remembering the last year. Remembering all the times Obito pulled him back from a brink he couldn’t even see. Remembering Kamui’s gray emptiness and Obito holding him as he wept through a years-long outpouring of grief and heartache, telling him that he wasn’t weak. That he never would be, no matter what Itachi said. 

“I know that,” he repeats. 

And he’s going to hold on to that knowledge, no matter what may come. Orochimaru really has no idea what he’s dealing with, and as scared as he is, Sasuke looks forward to showing him.

Chapter Text

“Orochimaru?” Kakashi asks in disbelief, trying to wrap his head around what Obito’s just told him. He’d think it a joke of some kind, but Obito looks rattled— expression grim, visible eye solemn, and human fingers twitching in agitation. He also keeps pacing, wearing an anxious line into the grass of the graveyard as the setting sun bathes him in silhouette. 

He dragged Kakashi out of the house as soon as he returned, saying they had to pay respects in a tone of voice that suggested he meant something completely different. Even ANBU won’t come too far into the cemetery, wary of disturbing the dead. Kakashi, with the tiny spark of chakra he has left, can sense their babysitters perched in a tree a few meters away, at the edge of the fence. They shouldn’t be able to hear anything, but Kakashi keeps his voice low just in case. 

“You’re sure?” 

“I didn’t see him myself,” Obito admits. “But the kids’ description matches. They think he’s after Sasuke.” 

Kakashi grinds his shock beneath a metaphorical heel and then his instinctive fear right after that, because he’s no good to anyone if he can’t be logical about all this. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the fence. “We always knew that might be a possibility.” 

“But not here,” Obito says. “In the middle of the fucking Exams.” He gestures angrily to the seal on his arm. “When we can’t protect them.” 

Kakashi shakes his head, mentally kicking himself. “We should have expected this.” 

“How? Orochimaru’s a coward. Who would have expected him to have the balls to sneak into Konoha when security’s higher than it’s been in years?” 

“I guess he grew a pair,” Kakashi mutters. “And he’s strategic. Not cowardly. If he’s taking these risks, it means he’s confident that his plan will pay off. Whatever it is.” 

“And that he has help,” Obito says. “He must have help, right? To make it this far?” 

“Probably.” It’s not something Kakashi likes to contemplate. There is still a small, shrinking part of him that loves this village, even if he never wants to be one of its shinobi again. He’s suspected for years that there is rot spreading beneath Konoha’s foundations, but being actually confronted with it is a hard, bitter pill to swallow. 

“Those ANBU that attacked us,” Obito continues, “all those years ago. They were acting without the orders of the Hokage.” 

Kakashi arches his visible eyebrow. “You think Danzo might have something to do with this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Obito says, grim. “He seems like someone who has a long game. He’s probably been aligning pieces for years.” 

Kakashi tilts his head back, watching purple and golden-hued clouds drift across the watercolor sky. “I was surprised that he agreed to let us come back so easily.” 

Obito resumes his pacing, trampling the grass further. “But is this really all just about Sasuke?” 

“Of course not,” Kakashi says, turning the tangled web over in his mind so that he can examine it from different angles. “If Danzo really is the one helping Orochimaru, it means that Sasuke is the bargaining chip he offered. There’s something else he wants, and in exchange for Sasuke, I imagine Orochimaru’s supposed to help him get it.” 

“Great,” Obito sighs. “I fucking hate political intrigue.” 

Kakashi’s never been the biggest fan of it, either, but they’re in the mire now. Nothing to do but keep pushing forward and hope it doesn’t consume them. He drops his voice even further, to a near whisper, “we need to do something about these seals.” 

“You sound like you have a plan,” Obito murmurs back. 

Kakashi shakes his head. “Only the beginnings of one.” He glances at the sky again and the deepening shadows around them. “It’ll be dark soon.” 

Obito hums in agreement, gaze darting in the direction of their ANBU guards’ hiding place before moving to Rin’s grave. “We should pay our respects. Then we can get moving.” 

Once again, they kneel side by side in front of the simple headstone and Obito fishes some incense out of a pouch on his hip. Normally, he would light it with a snap of his fingers, but their current predicament means he’s reliant on the lighter Kakashi produces from his pocket, which he may or may not have stolen from Asuma yesterday during a jounin meeting. Obito ignites the sticks, then quickly blows out the small flame. A tendril of thin smoke rises and Obito carefully arranges the incense on the headstone. 

“Sorry we still don’t have flowers this time, Rin,” he says, tracing the characters of Rin’s name. 

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Kakashi says. “A lot is happening right now.” He pauses, smiling ruefully beneath his mask. “Which I’m sure you know.” 

She promised to watch them, after all. And Rin always keeps her promises. He doubts even death would stop her. 

“We promise we’ll be okay,” Obito adds with a bow. “Or … we’ll do our best.” 

It’s all they’ve ever been able to offer. 

_ _ 

Once night completely falls, bathing Konoha in shadow, Kakashi and Obito lose their ANBU tail and head for the Forest of Death. Even without chakra, years on the road have honed their skill to point that it’s almost easy to slip past the barrier and into the twisted, foreboding trees of the training ground without being detected. Their babysitters will probably raise an alarm eventually, but Kakashi is hedging on the fact that they won’t want to report failure to the Hokage and so will spend at least some time searching on their own. 

They’ll probably get a lecture from Sarutobi and increased restrictions for the duration of the Exams, but that’s a risk they both decided they’re willing to take. There is only so much line-toeing they’ll subject themselves to, especially with the kids in danger. 

Together, they make their way to the tower, dodging the campfires of teams still fighting for scrolls. The clock is ticking down, only eight hours until the next stage, and Kakashi is sure some of them must be growing desperate. Even at this late hour, he can hear the metallic clash of weapons and the crash of warring jutsu rising from the undergrowth. Closer to the tower, several groups have put up painfully obvious traps that Obito rolls his eyes at when they bypass them. 

“Fucking amateurs,” Obito grumbles and Kakashi stifles a bark of laughter, resisting the urge to point out how terrible Obito’s traps were when he was a chuunin. Even now, he hates using them—too impatient. 

They stop in the branches of a tree right next to the tower and Obito points to a window on the third floor. “That’s their room.” 

“Easy enough,” Kakashi says. 

Obito claps him on the shoulder. “Say hi to the brats for me.” 

“Good luck with our ANBU friends.” 

Obito winks with his good eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll give them a merry chase, Bakakashi.” 

And then he’s gone, slipping away into the shadows. Kakashi sighs and assesses the distance to the third floor window. The tower isn’t a smooth surface and Kakashi is able to scale it without much problem, though it does take a lot of balance and core strength to stay perched on the wall while he jimmies the window open, barely managing to squeeze through. 

A shuriken flies at his head as soon as he lands and he catches it between his fore and middle fingers, still crouched on the floor. 

“Maa, it’s just me, Naruto,” he says, mild. 

Naruto, sitting on his futon, lowers his arm and pockets the kunai he was ready to throw next. On either side of him, Sakura and Sasuke also breathe sighs of relief and Sasuke deactivates his Sharingan. 

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto says and then Kakashi has his arms full of an emotional thirteen-year-old, who nearly squeezes the life out of him. 

“Hi, Naruto,” Kakashi wheezes as Naruto’s arms tighten around his neck. “Good to see you too.” 

He eventually manages to pry Naruto off him, ruffling his hair to show he’s not mad. Sasuke and Sakura also look relieved to see him, though they hold back from emotional displays, which Kakashi is honestly grateful for. He’s never been and never will be the hugging type. 

“How are you three holding up?” he asks. 

“We’re managing,” Sakura says and the dark circles under her eyes betray how little sleep she’s gotten, even though they’ve been “resting” here for three days. Sasuke looks no better, but he nods in agreement. 

Kakashi decides not to push them on it. Dealing with unexpected, terrifying things is part of shinobi life, and they’re allowed to cope however they need to. He trusts that they’ve built enough of a foundation beneath their relationship that his students will come to him if they need to, knowing that he’ll listen. 

“Good,” he says now. “I’m here to look at Naruto’s seal.” 

Naruto grimaces. “This isn’t going to be fun, is it?” 

Kakashi squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll be quick. But we should go to the sealing chamber, just in case.” 

It’s on this floor, from what he can remember, and heavily warded with a myriad of protection seals, which means that if the Kyuubi chakra got out somehow, it would still be contained and unable to cause too much destruction. Naruto grimaces again, but climbs to his feet. 

“We’ll keep watch,” Sakura volunteers and Kakashi inclines his head to them in thanks. 

Kakashi leads the way to the sealing chamber, opening the door to the circular room full of weirdly arranged columns and dim green lights that flicker on as soon as he crosses the threshold. 

“Are all sealing chambers incredibly creepy?” Naruto asks, eyeing the array etched into the floor. 

“Mm, it’s a requirement, I think,” Kakashi replies and gestures to the array. “Can you activate that? Just funnel a little chakra into that first point near the door.” 

“What’s it gonna do?” Naruto asks, wary. 

Kakashi puts his hand on Naruto's head in reassurance. “Just make sure that everything stays under control. I have no idea what Orochimaru’s worked into the seal.” 

“Okay fine,” Naruto acquiesces and presses his palm to the first point of the array, as instructed, closing his eyes to focus. A moment later, the array lights up, glowing a pale blue to match the green light already permeating the room. 

“Perfect,” Kakashi says. “Now take your shirt off and lie down in the middle.” 

Naruto obeys, grumbling about the cold of the stone floor as he settles down on his back. Before Kakashi can ask, he also passes a glowing hand over his stomach, making the seal visible. Kakashi frowns as he kneels down at Naruto’s side, examining Orochimaru’s handiwork. 

“He overlaid another seal on top of the Yondaime’s.” He traces the points in the air. “It looks like it’s designed to block you from accessing the Kyuubi’s chakra.” 

“Why?” Naruto asks. 

“Maa, you’re a jinchuuriki, Naruto. And a powerful one. It’s possible he saw you as a threat.” 

“Me? ” 

“Well,” Kakashi corrects, “the Kyuubi. Not you, probably.” 

“Great,” Naruto mutters. “So is that why my chakra feels kinda weird?” 

“Weird how?” Kakashi asks, frowning behind his mask. 

Naruto manages to shrug from his prone position. “Just … different. Like it’s not as strong as it usually is and something’s off about it.” 

“Hmm, yes. Most likely.” Kakashi checks the seal again. “Are you having any trouble channeling it or performing jutsu?” 

Naruto shakes his head. “No, not really. I just have to use more than I normally would.” 

Well, that’s a relief. Kakashi sighs. “Then I think we’ll have to leave it for now. I don’t think Sakura has the skill yet to tamper with this and I need to wait until I get my chakra back.” 

The last thing he wants is for the process of undoing Orochimaru’s seal to damage the Yondaime’s somehow and unleash the Kyuubi once again on the world. He remembers that night: the screams, the fires, Minato’s grim determination in the face of impossible odds—the last time Kakashi would ever see his sensei, marching to confront a towering monster with his cloak fluttering behind him, the flames stitched onto it brilliant, even in that ash-filled darkness. 

He doesn’t want to live through that a second time. And lose his student in the process. 

“Okay,” Naruto says, drawing him back to the present. “As long as I’m not gonna die or anything, right?” 

Kakashi shakes his head, amused. “No, you should be fine. But keep an eye on it.” 

Naruto nods and sits up. Kakashi hands him his black shirt and he pulls it on, then runs an agitated hand through his hair, messing it up even further. It’s clear he wants to ask something, so Kakashi sits back on his heels and waits for him to find whatever words he’s looking for, or work up the courage to speak them. 

“Is Orochimaru really after Sasuke?” he asks after a moment of silence. 

“It seems that way.” 

Naruto hugs his knees to his chest, suddenly looking young and scared—like the child shinobi life so rarely lets him actually be. “We’re not strong enough to stop him.” 

“Maa, maybe not. But he’s not invincible. Everyone has their weaknesses, Naruto. Even Legendary Sannin. Don’t give up hope yet.” 

It’s something he’s telling himself, even as he feels akin to a rabbit cornered by a fierce wolf, especially without his chakra. Orochimaru would be a difficult opponent for him and Obito on a good day, so right now? He’d swat them aside like flies. But part of being a teacher, he’s learning, is providing a bedrock for your students to stand on. Even if you’re afraid, you can’t let them see it. Minato-sensei never seemed scared, whether he was facing down a thousand enemy soldiers on a battlefield or walking to his own death. Kakashi is trying to emulate that. 

“I won’t,” Naruto says, determination hardening his features. “That bastard’s not getting Sasuke. I don’t care what it takes to stop him.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Kakashi says, ruffling Naruto’s hair. 

Then he feels it: a whisper of danger piercing his dulled senses. From the shadows, a rasping, familiar voice speaks. “How touching.” 

Kakashi’s on his feet in an instant, putting himself between Naruto and the figure stepping into the light. Orochimaru looks nearly the same as he did in the final days before his defection, over fourteen years ago now. The same treacherous yellow eyes, ringed in purple, the same unnaturally pale skin, the same confident smirk and long dark hair. He’s even still wearing the same style of earrings as he did when he was a Konoha shinobi. 

Kakashi reminds himself of what he was just considering and that panic won’t help anyone. He mirrors Orochimaru’s pose, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Orochimaru,” he says, keeping his voice mild. 

“Hatake,” Orochimaru responds. “You’re all grown up.” His gaze flicks to Naruto, who gulps nervously and hides further behind Kakashi, his hand pressing to the back of Kakashi’s flak vest. “And they even let you train a new crop of brats.” 

“Shocking, right?” Kakashi says. 

Orochimaru’s eyes land on the seal on Kakashi’s arm—the ink peeking out from the edge of his sleeve. “Though it looks they don’t trust you completely, do they?” 

Kakashi hums, noncommittal. “I imagine they’re about to have bigger problems.” 

Orochimaru laughs, a low, hoarse sound, and flicks a dismissive hand. “Perhaps” 

“I hear you’re after another one of my students.” Kakashi’s eye narrows. “You know I’m going to take that personally.” 

Orochimaru cocks his head to the side, a snake assessing its prey. “Are you going to do something about it, Hatake?” 

“Perhaps,” Kakashi parrots back, struggling to stay relaxed. Naruto’s fingers are clawing at the vest now, audibly scraping against the fabric. “Though you seem to think Sasuke will come to you willingly.” 

“He’s an avenger, isn’t he?” Orochimaru asks and Kakashi mentally wills Naruto to stay quiet. Better that Orochimaru think Sasuke is still after revenge, that he’ll betray his team and his supposed village for a chance at power. 

Mercifully, Naruto obeys, either coming to the same conclusion himself or simply too rattled to speak. 

“So you’re going to use that against him,” Kakashi surmises, layering hints of outrage into his voice. Orochimaru just smiles. “A question, though,” Kakashi continues. “If it’s a Sharingan you want, why not take mine? Or Obito’s?” He cocks his head to the side, once again mirroring Orochimaru. “Or Itachi’s?” 

“Sasuke is an important piece,” Orochimaru says. “I have plans for him.” 

“So he fits into your quest for power beyond just his kekkei genkai? I suppose he would make a good pawn, if you can mold him right. Does someone in Konoha agree with you?” 

Naruto sucks in a sharp breath, but still stays quiet. 

Orochimaru’s smile widens, fanged and practically dripping blood. “I forgot you’re not a Konoha shinobi anymore, Hatake,” he says. “You see much more clearly now.” 

“Mm,” Kakashi says. “I’ve learned the world is full of people like you, Orochimaru.” 

Orochimaru’s gaze hardens but he doesn’t rise to the bait. “I guess we’ll see who Sasuke chooses, when the time comes.” 

“I guess we will.” 

“In the meantime, stay out of my way, Hatake. And pass the message on to your annoying partner. If you interfere, I will kill you. And your remaining students.” Naruto shudders. 

“I suppose we can do that,” Kakashi agrees pleasantly. “For now.” 

Orochimaru scoffs at him, but turns and walks away, melting back into the shadows. Kakashi waits until he can’t sense him anymore, then lets out a shaky exhale, shoulders slump. 

“Sensei,” Naruto chokes out. When Kakashi glances back at him, looks uncharacteristically terrified—blue eyes huge in his face and tan skin several shades too pale. 

“I think that went well, don’t you?” Kakashi jokes, wrapping his arm around Naruto’s shoulders. “He didn’t stick us full of weapons or turn us into snakes.” 

Naruto blinks. “Is that … something he can do?” 

“Turn people into snakes?” At Naruto’s nod, Kakashi shrugs. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” 

“He’s so terrifying,” Naruto mutters. “But you stood up to him like it was nothing.” 

“It wasn’t nothing,” Kakashi says and shows Naruto his twitching hand. Naruto’s glances at it, then up at him in shock.“But you’re my students,” Kakashi continues, slipping his hand back into his pocket. “I’d face down a lot more than Orochimaru if it meant keeping you safe.” 

As predicted, Naruto hugs him tight around the waist. “Thank you,” he says, sounding choked up, and oh no. Kakashi still has no idea how to deal with emotional teenagers, especially if they’re crying. “I don’t say it enough, but I’m really glad you and Obito are here, sensei.” 

“Maa,” Kakashi says, patting Naruto awkwardly on the head. “I’m glad, too, Naruto. Someone has to keep you brats alive.” 

Naruto sniffs and wipes his eyes, nodding. Then he freezes. “Oh shit, do you think Orochimaru ran into Sasuke and Sakura?” 

Kakashi considered that, but … “No,” he decides. “I think he was here to see me. Or Obito. Whichever of us chose to come and check on you.” 

“Why?” Naruto asks as they leave the sealing chamber behind. 

“Because he’s overconfident,” Kakashi says. “And he wants to gloat.” He points a finger. “Don’t ever gloat, Naruto. It’ll always get you in trouble.” 

Naruto’s lips twitch in a smile, in spite of the red still rimming his eyes. “Noted, sensei.” 

Sakura and Sasuke are waiting for them down the hall, between the sealing chambering and their quarters. The lack of alarm on their faces suggests that Orochimaru managed to slip by them undetected, which Kakashi doesn’t blame them for. He’s still amazed that they survived a confrontation with him in the first place, even if that was probably more Orochimaru going easy on them than their own skill and tenacity. They still managed to throw him off guard. That counts.

“Is everything okay?” Sakura asks. 

Kakashi glances at Naruto, a warning look. Don’t mention Orochimaru to them. He doesn’t want to burden Naruto with a secret but if he can keep from alarming two out of his three students, that would be nice. Naruto must agree with him because he nods. 

“Yeah everything’s cool. We’re gonna leave the seal for now since Kakashi-sensei says it’s not dangerous.” 

Sasuke’s shoulders slump in relief and Sakura blows out a long breath. “That’s good.” She frowns up at Kakashi. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help, sensei?” 

“Not regarding this,” Kakashi says and watches Sakura pick up on his careful word choice. 

“Then….?” 

“I’ll tell you later,” he promises. “For now, try to sleep. All of you. The next stage starts at dawn.” 

“Will you be there?” Sasuke asks. 

Kakashi nods. “Both Obito and I have permission.” Which hopefully won’t change after their antics tonight. He doubts it. Sarutobi will want to maintain a good front and it would be too suspicious if they’re suddenly absent when all other jounin sensei will be present. 

“Good,” Sakura mutters, then takes Sasuke’s and Naruto’s hands. “Come on, let’s try to get at least a few hours rest.” She tugs them towards the room and all three of them throw goodbyes over their shoulders. 

Kakashi watches them go, marveling not for the first time at how much they’ve come to mean to them. For most of his teenage and adult life, there has been only one person he would risk everything for but these three have burrowed themselves so deep that he would go up against Orochimaru with just a kunai and no chakra and not think twice about it. 

Terrifying. 

_ _ 

Obito is waiting for him when he slips back into the apartment. It’s the small hours of the morning now and the shadows are beginning to lift. They don’t have much time before they have to gather with the rest of the jounin sensei to begin the semifinals. 

“Well?” Obito asks from his tense spot on the couch. 

“We’re leaving the seal for now,” Kakashi says, untying his forehead protector and setting it on the table with a sigh. He’d also like out of this damn flak vest but that seems like a waste of time when he’ll just be putting the thing back on again in an hour or so. “It’s not doing any damage, that I can see, and I don’t want to risk messing with it.” 

Obito nods. “Anything else happen?” He prods, innocently but with a pointed edge, like he already knows what the answer will be. It’s the only annoying thing about having spent the last thirteen years glued to each other’s sides: Kakashi can’t hide anything from Obito. 

“Orochimaru stopped by.” 

Obito surges to his feet. “What?” 

“Relax,” Kakashi tells him, like the hypocrite he sometimes is. Obito scoffs at him. “He just came to taunt me. Oh you’ve grown, Hatake brat, but you’re still powerless before me. Watch as one of your own students betrays you for power, blah, blah, blah. That kind of stuff.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Obito says with chilling finality. “As soon as we get these damn seals off.” 

“One thing at a time,” Kakashi chides. “I’m all for the killing plan, but we need more intel.” He sags into one of the kitchen chairs. “Right now, he doesn’t consider us a threat. That’s an advantage.” 

“Fine,” Obito concedes. “We find out who’s working with him and what their plan is and then we kill him. But spy stuff is your forte, I’d like to point out.” 

“I’ll handle the spy stuff,” Kakashi says. “You handle keeping Konoha off our backs.” 

“Distraction I can definitely do,” Obito says with a feral grin. “And getting the brats ready for the finals.” 

“They still have to get through the semifinals,” Kakashi points out. 

“They’ll get through,” Obito says, full of confidence. 

Kakashi thinks of Sabaku no Gaara and hopes that he’s right. 

_ _ 

Sakura tried to take her own advice and get some sleep, but it was a restless night in spite of her best intentions. She laid awake, turning the fight with Orochimaru and his Sound nin over and over in her head, just like she had for the past three nights before that. When the sun spilled in through their window and a chime echoed through the tower, summoning all text takers to the ground floor, Sakura dragged herself out of bed with a groan. 

Now that she’s dressed and paused to splash cold water on her face, she feels a little more alive. She has to focus, she tells herself. The Exams are still important and she still wants to do well. It will feel like a waste if they came here and put themselves in danger only to give up because they got scared. She won’t give Orochimaru the satisfaction. Or her peers. 

“We’ve got this, right?” Naruto says as they prepare to join everyone downstairs. He has dark circles under his eyes, too, but he’s vibrating with restless, fierce energy. “No backing down now.” 

Sasuke nods, looking as haggard and as determined as Naruto. “No backing down now. I’m not letting Orochimaru intimidate me. We came here to become Chuunin.” 

“And make our sensei proud,” Naruto adds. “Or at least … make them admit to it.” 

Sakura laughs at that, feeling a little bit lighter, and puts her hand out. “Team 7.” 

Sasuke and Naruto put their hands over hers with a joint, “Team 7!” 

They break and leave their quarters behind, entering the flow of other test takers on the staircase to make their way down. Sakura wonders what the other teams are thinking about, especially those that just arrived at the tower. Are they relieved? Anxious for the next stage? Do they feel confident? Worried? She longs for the relative peace of just last week, when this test was the biggest thing happening in her life. 

Speaking of their peers, Sakura can feel Ino’s eyes on her as they line up in the big, open room that covers nearly the whole bottom floor of the tower—knows that Ino wants to talk about what happened in the Forest and maybe more than that. But Sakura doesn’t have the capacity right now, so she keeps her gaze focused ahead, on the Sandaime and all the jounin sensei gathered behind him on a slightly raised dais. She easily spots Kakashi and Obito standing off to the left. There’s a giant screen mounted on the wall above the dais and the huge statue of two arms and fists pressed together, along with balconies running the length of the room, likely for observation. Clearly this next round is going to be one on one matches. Whoever wins their match will advance to the final in three week’s time. 

There’s only twenty-one of them left—seven teams of the original twenty-six. Sakura spots the team from Suna, including Sabaku no Gaara, and the team from Oto, all glaring at her and Sasuke. They seem to have recovered enough to compete, which is a pity. Beyond that, Kabuto’s team is present, along with all three other rookie teams. A formidable enough line-up. 

After several long moments of surveying them, Sandaime steps forward to give his speech. He opens, unexpectedly, with an explanation of the “true purpose” of the Exams—that they are not just a way of building friendship among allied nations, but also reflect “a microcosm of battle between allied nations.” 

Several murmurs of surprise run through the room but Sakura just thinks grimly, well at least he’s honest about it. 

After all, there is always a layer underneath. These Exams aren’t just about building peace or preventing actual conflict, but a way for nations to show off to each other and test the loyalty and power of their own shinobi. Kakashi and Obito were never blatant about that but Sakura picked up on the subtext, on the things they didn’t mention about the Exams still being held during a period of open war. Back then, she’s sure part of the test was to grant an assurance that a new generation of shinobi would be willing to die for their village and their nation on a battlefield. 

Sandaime goes on to mention that outside daimyos and other powerful figures will be watching the Exams in the final round, to determine which nation has the best shinobi to offer jobs and future work to. Sakura thinks of Obito and Kakashi and wonders, but what if the best shinobi answer to no nation at all? 

She thinks of a grandmother in Tea, who thanked Kakashi and Obito profusely for saving her farm from bandits and that her sensei would only accept a humble meal as payment. Or the traveling merchant in Hot Springs who promised them a discount for the foreseeable future for returning stolen wares, and was taken aback when Kakashi and Obito said all they wanted from him was a few books. A powerful nation never would have answered their requests … or would have demanded a hefty fine for services. They’re all too busy courting daimyos and those other powerful figures, whoever they might be, but the heart of any nation is its ordinary people, right? At least that’s what Kakashi and Obito have always taught her. 

Sakura’s glad when the spiel ends and a new shinobi, who announces himself as Gekko Hayate, the judge of the third exam, arrives to speak to them. Each sentence he utters is punctuated by sickly coughing, but there is familiar, experienced steel on his face as he stands before them. Sakura has no doubt that he's a formidable fighter, in spite of his presumed illness. He declares, as expected, that there is going to be a preliminary round of sudden death matches before the official third exam, to determine who will be moving forward. Students are welcome to drop out now if they want, but no one raises their hand, even if several declarations of outrage and trepidation rise up from the crowd (trepidation from Chouji, outrage from Shikamaru.) 

That is … until Kabuto does, with a cheerful smile on his face. 

What? Sakura thinks, shocked. He seemed to have been doing well, why suddenly drop out now? What’s going on? Does this mean he really was a proctor in disguise? Maybe his job in the forest was to ensure more teams got eliminated? Either way, she’s unsettled and files this away to reexamine later as she watches Kabuto casually exit the room without a backward glance. 

Once he's gone, Hayate coughs and consults his clipboard. “Will no one else drop out?” 

Silence. Hayate nods and continues with his speech, promising that he and the other judges will intervene if the match becomes too dangerous—this isn’t meant to be a fight to the death. Names of two opponents will be randomly selected and displayed on the screen above. 

“So,” he says, “let’s get right to it.” 

He waves a hand and the screen lights up, cycling through names too fast to read. Sakura clenches her hands into fists at her sides, holding her breath in anticipation. On either side of her, she feels Sasuke and Naruto doing the same and the whole room beyond them paused and tense, waiting. 

The names stop cycling, displaying two in brilliant yellow characters.  

Hers. 

And Sabaku no Gaara’s.

Chapter Text

For a moment, the world hangs in suspension and the rest of the room fades to blur and background noise. There is only her and her name in yellow on the screen, above Sabaku no Gaara’s, and the air trapped in her lungs. But then there is a hand on her shoulder and worried blue eyes set in Naruto’s frowning face and it’s the anchor she needs to crash back into her own body. 

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto is saying and next to him Sasuke also regards her with something close to fear in his gaze. She would be insulted, honestly, if she wasn’t terrified herself. 

“I’ll be fine,” she still says. 

Accept circumstances you cannot change, Kakashi reminds her during a winter training session in Forest Country, when the cold felt like it was gnawing at her bones, stripping away her focus. Adapt to them and move forward, Sakura. It’s the only way to survive. 

She will fight Sabaku no Gaara. There is nothing she can do to change it, to erase the two names on the screen, so now she has to find a way to win. 

“Contestants who have been called, please step forward,” requests Hayate, punctuated by a cough. 

Sakura manages one last smile for her teammates and breaks off from the rest of her fellow genin, aware of the murmurs rippling through the crowd. Everyone here probably thinks that she’s going to get curb-stomped. She hopes they aren’t right. 

As she takes her place at the front of the room, she risks a glance over at Gaara. Soulless pale blue eyes stare back at her and for the first time, she wishes she had a chance to see him in action before this fight. She only knows that his own teammates are scared of him and that he moves through the world as though he owns it, as though he expects to win every battle he enters. Both of those factors must mean that he’s powerful, but how? In what way? 

He carries a massive gourd on his back that can’t be a fashion statement and he’s from Suna—a village that tends to specialize in Earth and Wind techniques. Maybe he stores something in the gourd that helps him with his techniques? Could she separate it from him somehow? 

The rest of the examinees and instructors retreat to the balconies, leaving her and Gaara alone on the arena floor. Hayate drops his arm with a quiet cough. 

“Begin!” 

The cork of the gourd pops off, rolling to a stop at Sakura’s feet, and sand pours out, slithering along the ground like a living thing. She didn’t hear Gaara use the name of a technique or see him make any hand seals, so is this a kekkei genkai? Is he able to control it with his mind? 

She draws a kunai from her pouch and rushes forward at full speed, aiming for his head. As she thought, the sand moves immediately to his defense, blocking her. With how fast it is, she won’t be able to even get close to him, let alone land any hits. 

She flips backwards as it surges at her, tendrils reaching for her ankles, and sees Gaara grin at her, cruel and delighted. The sand is the perfect defense and the perfect offense, no wonder he’s so confident. He probably usually doesn’t have to lift a finger in a fight. 

But that means he relies on the sand, so if she manages to neutralize it, he might not be able to defend himself on his own. She dodges another swipe and hurls a wave of shuriken so the sand focuses on protecting him instead of attacking her, putting some more distance between herself and Gaara. It guards him like it’s moving on instinct, like it almost has a mind of its own, and she might be able to use that to her advantage. 

The sand might be special, but it's still earth. If she could slow it down…. 

“Is that all?” Gaara asks, regarding her with disdain clear in those horrible eyes. 

Gritting her teeth, she pulls a scroll from her pouch and unfurls it, throwing it to the ground and activating it with a chakra-laced foot placed over the seal. Water pours from the scroll, spreading rapidly across the arena until she’s standing in the middle of an ankle deep pond. Clapping her hands together, she plunges them into the water.

“Suiton: Suishōha!” 

The water surges up into a huge wave that she sends crashing right towards Gaara. As she was hoping, the sand forms a wall around Gaara to protect him from the torrent and gets completely soaked, weighing it down and making it crumble. Gaara looks at his own sand in disbelieving shock and Sakura seizes on his momentary distraction to attack, leaping into the air and bearing down on him with a chakra-infused fist raised. 

The sand tries to stop her, but it’s not quite fast enough and her arm punches right through, connecting with Gaara’s face. He goes flying, tumbling across the arena with his sand struggling to follow. 

Don’t let up, Sakura thinks and pushes her current advantage. She lands another kick to his stomach, crushing him further to the ground. But his face isn’t bruised or bloody, it’s cracked, like broken pottery. Some of it crumbles from his mouth and chin and she realizes, stunned, that it’s made of sand. His whole body is coated in sand armor. 

He grins up at her—all fang, more animal than human—and she watches as the sand covers him again, repairing the cracks. Even slowed by her water, it settles perfectly over his skin.

Shit. 

So she not only has to get through his normal sand barrier, she has to destroy his armor. 

She puts distance between them again and Gaara rises to his feet. 

“Is that all?” he asks again and his eyes are animal, too, full of fury and bloodlust. 

Ignoring the chill running down her spine, the voice that’s urging her to forfeit, Sakura tries to think. He’s going to be strong against any Earth technique she tries, which rules out her own affinity. But she still has one or two water releases up her sleeve. His sand is also still moving slower than normal, so it might not be able to counteract another dousing. 

Leaping into the air again, she flies through a series of seals and shapes her chakra in her stomach. 

“Suiton: Hatō!” 

Water spews from her mouth in a concentrated stream, blasting Gaara head on. A decent amount makes it past his sand barrier, causing more cracks and crumbling in his armor, sand dripping from his arms and face in clumps of almost-mud. 

Sakura hits the ground and forms Snake, then Bird, then Rat—the same technique she used on the Oto nin in the Forest of Death. “Doton: Doryūsō!” 

Spikes of earth jut up from the arena, piercing through Gaara’s weakened sand and pinning him in place. She punches him again, hard enough to shatter the armor across his cheek, then kicks him in the gut. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she launches into the air a third time, bringing him with her and pouring chakra into her arms. With all her gathered strength, she hurls him back to the ground so hard that it makes a deep crater in the center of the arena.

She lands crouched on top of him, fist raised to deliver what she hopes will be the finishing blow. All he does is grin at her, like the animal he’s become is enjoying this. 

“Not enough,” he says in a dark, rasping voice that sounds strange coming from the mouth of a boy. “Not enough blood.” 

The sand moves, faster than she was anticipating. It recovered too quickly from the water, shit. 

She tries to leap away but it traps her leg, curling around it from ankle to thigh like a giant hand pinning her in place. It hurls her away from Gaara, slamming her back first into the wall with so much force that she tastes blood on her tongue, and it doesn’t let go as she crumples to the ground. 

Vision blurring from the impact, she can barely make out Gaara lifting a shaking hand. His gaze is death, hunger—a demon. He wants to kill her. He’s going to kill her. 

“Sabaku Sōsō." He clenches his outstretched hand into a fist and the sand contracts around her, a crushing, impossible weight. 

She screams as it shatters her leg, pain engulfing her entire body—so brutal and all encompassing that she nearly vomits from the sheer intensity of it. In the last year, she’s been hurt on missions, but never like this. All those injuries pale in comparison to this. 

She collapses onto her stomach, struggling to cling to consciousness. Black still creeps in at the edges as the sand moves towards her again, like a predator seeking prey. Truly a living, devouring thing. 

Is this how I die? Sakura wonders just before the world goes dark. 

_ _ 

Sasuke sees Gaara’s sand extending towards Sakura’s unconscious form, sees the feral wildness in Gaara’s eyes, and has one foot on the railing, ready to vault into the arena to stop the fight, rules be damned. Sakura is already down, but Gaara wants to kill her, is going to kill her, and Sasuke refuses to lose another precious person—

A powerful slash cuts through the sand, dissipating it, and Sasuke blinks at Obito standing protectively in front of Sakura, fury etched onto his face. He hadn’t even noticed Obito move from the balcony. 

“Enough,” Obito says—the word a jagged snarl that probably would have been accompanied by mokuton if Obito had his chakra. “The match is over.” 

Gaara staggers to his feet, cracks spidering across his face where Sakura managed to shatter his armor, and his eyes are still half-mad, disbelieving. 

“Why?” he asks. “Why save her?” 

When she was weak is implied. When she lost. 

“Because,” Obito says, gloved hand a fist at his side, scars etched deep into his face. “She’s my student and I care about her.” 

Gaara looks stunned at this and Sasuke flashes back to the muted dark of Kamui and Obito’s hands on his shoulders as he wept, promising him that he would never be weak. That the words Itachi used to cut him open on the worst night of his life weren’t true. It was the first time since he was a child that someone held him when he cried. That someone let him be scared and helpless and grief-stricken and loved him still, and it tipped his whole world onto a new axis. 

And he sees that Sabaku no Gaara has never known love like that, cannot even comprehend it, and for a moment it makes him sad, even if he still wants to rend Gaara apart for hurting Sakura. 

Gaara doesn’t try to attack any further, merely turns and strides away, leaving Hayate to stammer out an announcement of his victory to his retreating back. Sasuke knows from experience that Obito’s actions probably rattled Gaara to his core. It would be funny, if Sakura wasn't currently being loaded on a stretcher. 

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto shouts and leaps over the railing. Sasuke follows him, feeling Kakashi also land behind him. 

They all gather helplessly as the medical team gets Sakura situated, checking her vitals and bracing her damaged leg. 

“She’ll be alright, I think,” Obito says, though he sounds shaken. “I’m gonna go with them to the hospital. Sorry to miss your matches.” 

Sasuke shakes his head. He wants someone watching over Sakura more than he needs both his sensei present. “Go. We’ll both win, anyway.” 

The declaration feels a little hollow, in the wake of Sakura’s defeat, but Obito still smiles at him. Besides, Sakura more than held her own, even if Gaara proved to be stronger in the end. Sasuke’s a little in awe, but then again he’s managed to let go of his pride enough to acknowledge that in many ways, she’s the best of Team 7. 

She more than proved that today. 

“Please be okay, Sakura-chan,” Naruto murmurs and Sasuke has just enough time to reach out and touch Sakura’s shoulder before the medical team carries her away, Obito walking alongside them with his hands in his pockets and a defeated curve to his broad shoulders. 

“We need to go back up to the balconies,” Kakashi, ever the practical one, says, tugging them both in the direction of the steps. “The next match will be starting soon.” 

Sasuke barely pays attention as the next match is announced: a kunoichi from Suna against one from Konoha named TenTen. And he barely pays attention to the match itself, or the one after that, or the one after that—lost in the churn of his own thoughts and the scream Sakura let out when Gaara nearly crushed her leg. 

“I really wanna kill him,” Naruto mutters to him, perhaps lost in his own spiral. “Even if Obito-sensei would be mad about it.” 

Even though it wouldn’t make anything better. Obito would say that Gaara destroys, kills, because it might be all he’s ever known. How can you be human if you’ve never been shown how? But right now, Sasuke doesn’t feel like extending too much empathy. He can’t grasp Obito’s typical bleeding heart. 

“We’ll just have to beat him in the finals,” he replies. 

Naruto nods, a silent pact passing between them. 

“Sasuke,” Kakashi says. “Your name is up.” 

Sasuke realizes that the previous match finished and they’ve cycled through two more participants. His own name blinks at him in yellow on the giant screen, matched up against Rock Lee. 

He almost laughs. It looks like Lee will get his fight, after all. He’s also done some reconnaissance during their three days stuck in the tower and heard from several other genin that Lee only uses taijutsu. 

This should be interesting. 

Naruto claps him on the shoulder. “Good luck. Don’t get pummeled too hard.” 

“Tch,” Sasuke glares and leaps into the arena to take his place across from Lee, who is practically vibrating with enthusiasm. Though there is worry on his face too. 

“Sakura-san,” he says, surprising Sasuke. “Will she be alright?” 

“I think so,” Sasuke replies. “They took her to the hospital to treat her leg.” 

Lee nods, relief chasing away the worry. And Sasuke has a potentially stupid idea, but whatever. He would love a good fight right now—somewhere to vent all these annoying emotions clashing around inside of him. He can do something reckless and ill-advised every now and then, Naruto shouldn’t have a monopoly on it. 

“You just use taijutsu, right?” he asks as Hayate steps up, preparing to start the match. 

“Yes!” Lee says, clenching a passionate fist. Sasuke can practically see flames in his eyes. “And even though I can’t use ninjutsu, I’m going to prove to everyone that I’m a worthy shinobi!” 

“Okay,” Sasuke says. “Then this fight is taijutsu only.” 

Lee’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You’re not going to use ninjutsu?” 

“No. Just taijutsu. And my Sharingan,” Sasuke decides. “But only if I need it.” He smirks, settling into a battle stance. “Let’s make this an interesting fight, Lee-san.” 

Because he would like to prove himself too. That he doesn’t need a fancy bloodline to be a good shinobi. That he can stand among the ranks of the strong all on his own. He’s also suddenly glad that Obito isn’t here to see this or he would never hear the end of how he’s finally taking Obito’s teachings to heart. 

Lee grins, brilliant and wild. “I look forward to it, Sasuke-kun.” 

“Begin!” Hayate rasps and Lee sets an intense rhythm immediately. 

He’s just as fast as Sasuke was expecting him to be and each blow has a stunning amount of strength behind it. Sasuke is keeping up, thanks to the taijutsu skills that have been drilled into him over the past year, but he’s on the defensive. They dance across the arena is a series of whirling kicks and punches—Lee’s fist connects with his shoulder hard enough to nearly send him flying; his heel digs deep into Lee’s ribs; Lee’s arm cracks across his back; the side of his hand strikes Lee’s jaw and whips his head to the side. 

It’s exhilarating. 

He manages to execute a combo that sends Lee leaping into the air to escape. He crouches on top of one of the giant hand statues, breathing heavily and regarding Sasuke with admiration. 

“You are a much more worthy opponent than I expected, Sasuke-kun!” 

Sasuke scoffs, frowning up at him. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to fight me? You already thought I was worthy of testing yourself against.” 

“True, true,” Lee agrees with a vigorous nod of his head. “But I didn’t expect you to be this proficient in taijutsu.” 

Sasuke shrugs. “It’s a key component of being a shinboi.” 

And Obito insisted they all learn it, telling Sasuke: don’t you dare activate your Sharingan until you can hold your own without it.

“Lee!” Lee’s sensei calls from the balconies. He looks like an adult copy of Lee, right down to the bowl cut and the green spandex, wow. “Take them off!” 

Take what off? Sasuke thinks warily as Lee’s whole face lights up and he laughs in delight. He proceeds to rip off his hideous orange leg warmers, revealing weights strapped around his calves and ankles. He was wearing weights this whole time? Another cold rush of worry trickles down Sasuke’s spine as Lee stands and drops the weights off either side of the statue. The impact they make is akin to an earthquake, hurling dust into the air as the ground roils briefly beneath Sasuke’s feet. 

And okay, Sasuke admits that he might be in trouble. Slightly. 

When Lee moves again, he’s a blur of speed—so fast that he might as well be teleporting. But Sasuke has learned how to fight someone who can teleport and he can track the faint telegraph of Lee’s movements in the fractions of a second before a blow comes. Lee strikes from above first and Sasuke leaps to the side, taking the kick in the arm instead of the head. In a blink, Lee’s underneath him and a foot is slamming into his chin, hurling him into the air. 

Sasuke is expecting it when Lee appears above him and he twists to the side to avoid the next kick, slamming back into the ground with both feet. Stone cracks beneath the impact and Sasuke immediately dodges Lee’s follow up, letting Lee also hit the arena floor where he’d been half a second ago.

He can’t keep this up, Sasuke knows that. He can dodge, but he can’t attack, and eventually Lee will wear him down. If he’s used to fighting with training weights that heavy on, he probably has more stamina than Sasuke could ever hope to achieve. 

In a marshy forest in the Land of Rice, Obito regards him with a swirling red eye. Your Sharingan lets you see things normal shinobi can’t, but you have to train your body to be able to keep up with it. Your eyes are nothing if your body can’t follow. 

And after he’s thrown Sasuke to the ground for nearly the hundredth time, he crouches and cups the back of Sasuke’s head with a gloved hand. These eyes are our bloodline, they are a part of us, as much as I hate it sometimes. So, kid, don’t think too much. Let go and let them guide you. Let them be as natural to you as breathing. 

Back in the arena, Sasuke activates his Sharingan and the world pulls into a new, sharper focus, slowing down for him. Lee is still fast, but now it feels like the same speed he had with the weights on. Now, Sasuke can match him. 

The dance begins again, at a more frenetic rhythm than before. The Sharingan directs Sasuke where to go to counter Lee's strikes and Sasuke’s body automatically moves to follow. Finally, he manages to catch Lee off guard with a powerful kick, sending him crashing into one of the walls. When Lee staggers back to his feet, he grimaces. 

“I didn’t want to have to resort to this,” he says. “But you’ve left me no choice, Sasuke-kun.” 

Through the lens of the Sharingan, suddenly the amount of chakra flowing through Lee’s body doubles, as though a floodgate has been opened.

What? Sasuke thinks in alarm. 

Lee moves even faster than before, just beyond the range of Sasuke’s Sharingan and Sasuke gasps as Lee’s kick throws him into the air. Another follows and another and another in a near ceaseless barrage, propelling him towards the ceiling. The loose ends of the bandages normally wrapped around Lee’s arms flutter and Sasuke knows immediately that whatever happens, he can’t let Lee trap him with them. 

Pushing the limits of his Sharingan, he looks for Lee’s next blow and spots it to his right with just enough time for him to use every bit of strength he has to twist in midair, slashing out at Lee with a kunai and effectively getting out of the range of his attack. They both hit the ground with the force of twin boulders, cratering the arena floor. Impact rattles all the way up to the backs of Sasuke’s teeth. Warm blood floods his mouth and he spits it out in a bright splatter at his feet, wincing at the ache in his ribs from Lee’s assault.

A few meters away, Lee sways to his feet, also looking battered. But he grits his teeth and closes his eyes and Sasuke sees another rush of chakra along his coils. It looks dangerous, like it’s putting terrible strain on Lee’s body, and at this rate, they’re both going to end up destroyed if this doesn’t end soon. 

Falling back on ninjutsu still feels like it would be cheating. So Sasuke also closes his eyes and tries to ground himself. 

Just a little more, he thinks, directed at his Sharingan. Give me just a little more. 

And as though it’s actually heard him, the world suddenly crystallizes and slows again. He can clearly see Lee flying towards him like an arrow shot from a bow. He knows that Lee is going to try to send him into the air for another powerful taijutsu technique and though the window of opportunity will be infinitesimal, he grasps a way that he can win. 

He lets Lee hurl him skyward again, accepting the sharp bloom of pain through his torso, and channels chakra into his leg. He’s not as proficient as Sakura, but it should be adequate for a victory. Lee appears above him between one blink and the next, but the Sharingan slows his movements down just enough for Sasuke to intercept Lee’s next blow with one of his own. 

He smashes his chakra-enhanced leg against Lee’s and hears bone snap. In turn Lee’s fist strikes his arm and agony flares down to his fingers. He grits his teeth through it, letting out a primal yell, and manages to reverse his and Lee’s positions, sending Lee back to the earth with enough speed and power to create another crater in the already pockmarked arena. He lands off balance a few seconds later, collapsing to one knee and clutching the arm that he’s almost positive is broken. 

As the dust settles, Lee groans and tries to push himself up on trembling limbs. Sasuke wobbles over to him, prepared to deliver a finishing blow if necessary, but Lee slumps back to the ground with a defeated sigh, unable to get his battered body and broken leg to bear his weight. 

“Winner, Uchiha Sasuke,” Hayate declares, as Sasuke sinks to his knees at Lee’s side. 

Lee stares up at the ceiling, a bitter expression on his bruised face. “It wasn’t enough,” he murmurs. 

“It was,” Sasuke surprises himself by saying. He then has to pause to cough up more blood, worrying that Lee might have managed to damage his organs. He rallies himself, aware of Lee still watching him. And pep talks have always been Naruto’s forte but Sasuke is trying to be better. 

To form bonds and all that. 

“Lee-san,” he says. “I wanted to beat you at taijutsu without having to rely on my kekkei genkai and I failed. You were stronger than me. Even if I technically won, I think … that I’m the one who has to catch up to you.” 

It still feels a little bitter to admit it. And freeing. Someone was stronger than him so he’ll find a way to grow stronger in turn and surpass them. Accepting that feels like casting off more of the weight of his clan, of the Uchiha legacy that has been sitting heavy on his shoulders since he was a child. 

When he glances back down, Lee seems to have regained some of his passion, mouth stretched in a cheerful grin.

“We’ll both get stronger, then, Sasuke-kun,” he declares and lifts a shaky hand to give an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I look forward to fighting you again, rival!” 

“Me too,” Sasuke says and means it. 

The medical team descends upon them in a flurry of white, bearing two stretchers. Sasuke twitches when he realizes that one is meant for him. 

“I’m fine,” he tries to protest. He doesn’t want to miss Naruto’s fight. 

The medical team doesn’t seem inclined to listen and he’s half-dragged, half-carried to the stretcher. Oh well, that means he’ll just have to find a chance to sneak away. 

_ _

Naruto frowns at the stretcher that carries Sasuke away, in spite of Sasuke’s protests that it’s only a broken arm and he wants to stay and see the rest of the matches. That’s two of his teammates put in the hospital and he’s worried about them, but also when is it going to be his turn? Sasuke and Sakura were so badass, he wants a cool fight too! Maybe against Hyuuga Neji? Of all the contestants left, he thinks that Neji is probably the strongest and he’d be curious to go up against another dōjutsu user after spending the past year training with Sasuke and his Sharingan. He doesn’t know much about the Byakugan and he’d like to learn, but he thinks he would feel bad if he had to fight Hinata. From his vague academy memories, she was always so nice to him. 

The screen cycles through names and it’s Chouji versus one of the creepy Oto nin. Naruto slumps over the railing in frustration. There are only three matches left, and this will leave him up against either Hinata, Neji, or Kiba. 

“Do you think I could beat Neji?” He asks Kakashi, who predictably blinks at him and throws his own question right back in his face. 

“Do you think you could beat Neji?” 

Naruto pauses, considering. Dōjutsu are powerful and it’s hard to deal with one he doesn’t know that much about, so Neji would have an automatic advantage. But Neji would probably go into the fight underestimating Naruto and also not knowing about kage bunshin, so maybe that would give him just enough of an edge to secure a victory. 

“Yes,” he says, but knows that he doesn’t sound super confident. 

He used to be a lot more confident, he thinks, back in his Academy days and in his first weeks as a genin, when his world was only as big as Konoha. When he hadn’t watched a sensei die, when he hadn’t huddled in terror in a half-collapsed canyon in the Land of Earth, wondering if a missing nin was going to kill him or Kakashi, when he hadn’t held vigil by hospital beds. As his world got bigger, he thinks that he got smaller, though that isn’t really a bad thing. He knows his limits now and therefore, he knows how to push them. When you accept the areas you’re weak in, it gives you the opportunity to grow strong. 

Or something like that. 

It’s what Obito has told him more than once. 

Down in the arena, Chouji slams into one of the walls hard enough to break the stone and get himself trapped and Naruto winces in sympathy. The sympathy intensifies when the creepy Oto nin does something with sound waves that makes Chouji start shouting, wrenching himself free of the wall and collapsing in a lump on the ground. Hayate declares the Oto nin the victor of a fight that unfortunately lasted less than a minute. 

Ouch. 

“Poor Chouji,” Naruto mutters. 

Kakashi hums in agreement. “I’m not sure he’s cut out for fighting.” 

“Why is he a shinobi, then?” 

Kakashi shrugs. “Generational expectations, probably. It’s what happens when you’re from a ninja clan.” 

“It sucks,” a familiar voice agrees and Naruto turns to see Sasuke approaching with his arm in a sling and mulish expression. 

Kakashi arches an eyebrow. “Did you escape from the medical team?” 

Sasuke frowns, which means that yes, he very much did escape from the medical team and they’re probably looking for him right now. 

“It’s a clean break,” Sasuke grumbles. “And they mostly healed it already. I’m fine.” He stares down into the arena instead of looking at either Naruto or Kakashi and mutters, “I wanted to see Naruto’s match.” 

Naruto feels warmth bloom in his chest at Sasuke’s admission, at the idea that somehow, he’s reached a point in his life where Uchiha Sasuke is his friend and wants to support him. If he told the Naruto of a year ago this would happen, that Naruto would definitely declare him a liar and try to punch him in the face. 

“Aww, Sasuke!” He slings an arm over Sasuke’s shoulders, though tries to be careful of the broken arm. Sasuke flinches and glowers but doesn’t pull away. “You care about me!” 

“Shut up, usuratonkachi. I just want to see how badly you lose.” 

“No, I think you care about meeee,” Naruto sings-songs and drags Sasuke even closer, weathering the elbow Sasuke digs into his stomach in response. 

Kakashi clears his throat. “The next match is about to be announced.” 

Right. Priorities. 

The names finish cycling and Naruto straightens when he sees his own … only to slump again when his opponent is announced as Inuzuka Kiba. 

“Maa, Naruto, you look disappointed.” Kakashi raps him on the shoulder. 

“Sasuke and Sakura had epic fights,” Naruto grumbles. “I wanted an epic fight.” 

He doesn’t know much about Kiba but he’s pretty sure that Kiba isn’t on par with him. This fight won’t be a challenge in the way that fighting Neji might have been, or even some of the earlier contestants like Shikamaru, or that weird puppet guy, or the Suna kunoichi with the giant fan.  

Kakashi taps him again, this time on the head. “Don’t get overconfident,” he admonishes.

Naruto squares his shoulders, shaking off his disappointment. He can be optimistic about this. Maybe Kiba is going to be a lot stronger than he expected. Maybe he’s got some sort of secret technique or kekkei genkai that Naruto doesn’t know about. Or maybe that dog he fights with is actually super powerful. This could still be cool! He could still prove himself the way Sasuke and Sakura did. 

“Have fun,” Sasuke says dryly, as Naruto hops over the railing and down into the arena where Kiba is waiting. 

He knows that everyone is expecting him to bomb this. The Naruto they knew couldn’t even do a proper henge or make a bunshin, and his former loser status reflects in the brash confidence written all over Kiba’s face. Even Kiba’s little dog seems smug. 

How does he want to play this? Annoying? Arrogant? Calm? What will piss Kiba off the most? 

Grinning, he shoves his hands into his pockets and says, in a drawl somewhat inspired by Kakashi, “Don’t get too excited, you won’t be able to beat me.” 

Kiba scoffs. “Please, with you as my opponent, I’ve pretty much won. Right, Akamaru?” The little dog yaps an affirmative. 

Naruto can’t resist a little more trash talk. “You’re talking really big for someone who’s gonna rely on a puppy in a fight.” 

“Ha,” Kiba laughs, scornful. “Fine, Akamaru, stay out of this.” Akamaru whines in disappointment. “I’ll fight him by myself.” 

Perfect, Kiba took the bait so easily and now there’s one less enemy for Nartuo to worry about, just like he was hoping. He keeps the shit-eating grin on his face as Hayate steps forward to signal the official start of the match, watching as Kiba crouches low to the ground, wreathed in the familiar glow of chakra. His fingernails extend into claws and his canines sharpen. 

Right. Naruto readies himself. Here we go. 

“Here I come!” Kiba shouts and launches himself forward so fast he’s little more than a blur of blue and brown. 

It was faster than Naruto was expecting him to be, but not as fast as Obito or Sasuke when he has his Sharingan activated, so he’s able to dodge to the side fairly easily. Kiba’s elbow grazes his side instead of slamming into his stomach as intended and he gets a brief flash of surprise on Kiba’s face before Kiba spins to attack again. 

Naruto skips backwards, skidding across the ground out of range. He rises from his crouch, smirking in response to Kiba’s frustrated glare. “Is that all of you’ve got? Or are you gonna stop underestimating me?” 

He can feel the shock rippling through the balconies, can imagine the incredulous looks everyone is exchanging. He only spares a glance in Sasuke’s direction, though, and finds him leaning against the railing with his good arm, observing the proceedings with a faint smile on his face. It widens slightly when he catches Naruto’s gaze, almost encouraging. 

Naruto is so touched. 

Across the arena, Kiba growls, a feral sound. “Let’s go, Akamaru.” 

Oh good. Now, this might get interesting. 

Dog and shinobi rush at him together. As they approach, Kiba pulls a trio of smoke bombs from his weapons pouch and Naruto nearly laughs. He lets them explode at his feet and the smoke obscure him, closing his eyes against the sting of it and to better listen for the direction Kiba and Akamaru are going to attack from. He quickly creates two shadow clones and simultaneously henges into Akamaru just as Kiba slams into his clone. In the chaos, the second clone grabs Akamaru and Naruto goes for Kiba’s ankles. 

He sinks his little dog teeth into skin deep enough to draw blood, eliciting a yelp from Kiba, and yanks him off balance. Kiba crashes to the ground as the smoke dissipates and Naruto drops the henge, hurrying to pin Kiba and deliver a knockout blow. He’s not quite fast enough, though, and Kiba manages to roll out of range and scramble back to his feet. 

He’s grinning in spite of the blood on his face and leg. “Okay,” he concedes. “You’re better than I thought. Where’s Akamaru?” 

Naruto nods to where his other clone is holding the dog hostage and it yips sadly. This whole fight has been extremely easy, but he’s curious to see if Kiba has anything else up his sleeve so he waits instead of pressing his advantage. 

“Alright,” Kiba declares. “I’ll attack you seriously now.” 

Naruto arches an eyebrow. “Sure, but you still can’t beat me.” 

“Yah, stop talking tough!” Kiba snaps and reaches into his pouch again. Naruto’s half-expecting more smoke bombs but instead he produces a food pill that he tosses into Akamaru’s mouth. 

The little dog starts to growl, fierce enough to shake his whole body, and his fur turns spiky, shifting from white to a dark red. 

Oh, Naruto thinks as the dog manages to break free from his clone’s grip. THAT’S why he’s called Akamaru. 

Kiba downs a food pill himself, smirking, and claps his hands together in an unfamiliar seal, bending down to let Akamaru jump onto his head. “Gijin Ninpō..." Smoke envelops Kiba and Akamaru and Naruto slides into a battle stance. When it clears, there are two Kibas—one perched on the other’s back and both flashing sharp canines and wild eyes. “Jūjin Bunshin.” 

Am I supposed to be impressed? Naruto almost says, but both Kibas launch at him before he can, flanking him from both sides in a pincer move. 

They’re fast, and their chakra is a lot stronger than before, but their moves are blatantly telegraphed and still easy to dodge. Psh. He should have just ended it after the smoke bombs if this is all Kiba’s going to bring. 

“I told you,” he says as he sidesteps another attack and who he thinks is Akamaru slams into the ground where he was standing a second ago. “You can’t beat me with this!” 

They come for him together, aiming at his legs, and he launches himself into the air to escape. Which might have been a mistake because below Kiba roars, “now!” And he and Akamaru manage to spin so fast that they turn themselves into twin cyclones, launching themselves at him as Kiba shouts, “Gatsūga!”

Shit, Naruto thinks and wrenches his body sideways in the air. It isn’t the most artful evasion, but he manages to limit the impact to a graze along his arm instead of a direct blow and he catches himself before he can face plant onto the ground, flipping backwards to put some distance between himself and Kiba. His arm throbs—a persistent ache that tells him it’s going to bruise horrifically later. 

This move is strong, and Kiba and Akamaru try to time it for when their target is vulnerable, such as in the air or right after landing, but it’s still majorly telegraphed and not that hard to get out of the way of. Naruto can see how it would work on an average genin. It probably would have ground him into the dust a year ago—before Obito’s unhinged training sessions and Kakashi spending a whole week only allowing them to evade attacks instead of retaliating and Sasuke awakening his Sharingan and becoming fast as well as annoying. 

Not to mention all the time in general spent avoiding an enraged Sakura and her extremely powerful punches. 

So if this is Kiba’s biggest move… well. Time to officially end this. 

He grins, letting it turn a little feral in an echo of Kiba. “My turn,” he says and feels another wave of shock run through the other teams as they realize that he hasn’t attacked once yet. 

“You’re fast,” he says, drawing a kunai from his pouch. “But so am I.” 

He darts across the arena and sees Kiba’s eyes widen at his speed. Kiba lifts an arm to block his blow, but Naruto feints left and targets Akamaru instead, the weaker of the two. Akamaru also tries to defend, but he’s not quite as fast as his human counterpart and Nartuo’s leg connects hard with the side of his head. 

“Akamaru!” Kiba shouts as the henge drops and Akamaru goes sliding across the ground from the force of the blow, landing in a heap in the far side of the arena. 

Sorry, Naruto thinks because Akamaru really is a cute dog when he’s not trying to claw Naruto’s face off. 

“Bastard,” Kiba growls, turning to hurl a handful of shuriken at him. Naruto leaps over them, twisting into the air, and slashes down towards Kiba’s head. 

Kiba dodges, as expected, but Naruto doesn’t need to land a blow, just get Kiba to go where he wants. Keeping up a steady flurry of attacks, he drives Kiba away from Akamaru and to the other side of the arena—close to where Kiba attacked him with the smoke bombs. Finally, Kiba steps into range and Naruto activates his trump card. 

Now! He thinks as a shadow clone’s hands burst from the ground and grab Kiba’s ankles. 

“Doton," the clone says, “Shinjū Zanshu no Jutsu.” 

It wrenches Kiba into the earth, trapping him all the way up to his neck so that only his head is visible. Naruto crouches in front of him as he struggles, face twisted in a frustrated snarl. 

“It’s probably gonna take awhile to get out,” Naruto informs him. “You might just wanna forfeit.” 

“What the fuck,” Kiba says. 

Naruto smiles. “Shouldn’t have thrown that smoke bomb. It gave me a chance to hide another clone underground. Then I just had to get you back over here and bam!” He slams a fist into his palm. “Trap sprung.” He glances over to where Hayate is observing the proceedings. “Seriously, he won’t be able to get out. Can you call it?” 

Kiba struggles again, but he’s so effectively stuck that all he can do is jerk his head back and forth like a worm on a hook. Hayate coughs. “The winner is Uzumaki Naruto.” 

“Seriously?” Kiba grumbles. “Couldn’t you have beaten me in a cooler way?” 

“Hey, I thought it was pretty cool!” Naruto raps him on the head. “Be careful what techniques you use because they could end up getting used against you.” 

Kiba squints up at him. “What happened to you, Uzumaki?” 

Naruto shrugs. “I grew up a little.” Or a lot, probably. He spares a glance to the balconies to see that pretty much every jaw except Kakashi’s and Sasuke’s is hanging open. 

Ha, who’s stupid now? 

Back down to Kiba. “Want me to help you out?” A medical team could probably do it, but it’ll be faster this way. 

Hayate coughs. “Please, we need to start the next match.” 

Kiba glares at the ceiling, an embarrassed flush on his face. “I’ll get you back for this. Just wait.” 

“Sure,” Naruto says and uses essentially the same technique to reach back underground and haul Kiba out of the hole. He rubs the back of his head and debates what to say because he doesn’t actually want to make an enemy out of Kiba. He seems like a good guy, beneath all the bluster. “Uh, good fight. Sorry about Akamaru.” 

Kiba shakes his head, some of his composure returning. “Ugh, Uzumaki, don’t pity me.” But he’s smiling a little, mouth twitching at the corners. “Just be prepared next time.” 

Naruto smiles back. “Can’t wait.” 

And with that they’re shooed out of the arena so that the next match can commence. It wasn’t the coolest fight, not nearly as epic as Sasuke’s or Sakura’s, but he’s glad that he at least managed to surprise people. Mission Show-Everyone-You’re-Not-the-Village-Idiot-Anymore mostly a success! He ascends the steps up to the balconies, rotating his injured arm to try to work out some of the lingering pain and nearly runs right into Hinata. 

She won’t quite meet his eyes, fingers twitching anxiously, but she mumbles in her soft voice. “Good job, Naruto-kun.” 

He smiles at her, hoping he can put her at ease. He’s not sure if she’s just shy around everyone or particularly nervous around him because of either his jinchuuriki status or the fact that he’s been gone for a year. Or both. 

“Thanks, Hinata!” 

She flushes, shuffling out of his way, and he rejoins Sasuke and Kakashi. 

“You stole my line,” Kakashi comments mildly, but he pats Naruto’s head like one of his ninken, which means he’s proud. 

“Not bad, usuratonkachi,” Sasuke says, but his mouth twitches up at the corner and his gaze is almost affectionate, which means he’s proud too. 

“You guys are mean,” Naruto still whines. “I was cool, right?” 

“You were a little cool,” Sasuke concedes. “You probably didn’t need to draw it out that much.” 

Naruto shrugs. “I wanted to see what Kiba could do.” He looks at Kakashi. “Have you heard anything about Sakura?” 

Kakashi shakes his head. “No, without our chakra, I can’t really see through Obito’s eye like I’m normally able to and I think they want us to focus on the matches. So we probably won’t learn anything until after this round is over.” 

Well, at least there’s only one match left: Hinata and Neji. Which seems like it’ll be an interesting one: two members of the same clan going against each other. 

“I actually don’t know,” Naruto says. “Are Hinata and Neji siblings?” 

Kakashi cocks his head. “I don’t think so. From what Gai told me, Neji is from the branch family and Hinata is from the head family. So at best, they would be cousins.” 

“Huh? Head and branch?” Clans are always so complicated. 

“The head family are the main founders of the clan,” Sasuke elaborates. “The branch family is usually descended from the head. So think of it like there are two brothers. The older brother is the leader of the clan and all of the clan heirs descend directly from him. The younger brother’s descendents will be the branch family, cut out of the line of succession.” He leans his side against the railing again, a frown cutting his mouth into a flat line. “I don’t … I don’t remember Uchiha politics that well but I think Obito would have been from the branch family, while I’m from the head.” 

“Correct,” Kakashi says. “Though, the Uchiha had less distinctions between the two than the Hyuuga.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know the details, but from my understanding, in the Hyuuga clan, the head family enjoys a lot of privileges that the branch family is cut off from. So this match is probably a very personal one.” 

In the arena, Hinata takes her place across from Neji and Naruto feels a pang in his chest at the awkward hunch of her shoulders, like she’s constantly trying to make herself smaller, invisible. In contrast, Neji stands proud and confident—someone secure in his abilities. But there is old anger in the taut line of his spine. Anger that reminds Naruto of Sasuke’s before it began to bleed away: carried for a long time, sunk into marrow and sinew, woven into the heart. 

“I have a bad feeling,” he murmurs, curling his fingers around the railing and letting the cool metal against his palms soothe the strange churn of his stomach. Hinata is so kind, too kind to be a shinobi, and Neji isn’t going to be. 

He has no idea if this will help, but he leans over the railing and shouts, “Oi, Hinata! You can do it!” 

She startles at the sound of his voice, glancing in his direction with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. And then she stands a little straighter and some of the fear and uncertainty leaves her face. In the end, though, it isn’t enough. She’s no match for Neji and even though she gets up again, again, and again—so brave, he admires her—Neji is ruthless in his assault. As she collapses to her knees for the fourth time, blood dripping from the corners of her mouth down her pale chin, Neji moves in for what Naruto realizes will be a killing blow. 

“Kakashi-sensei,” he says in alarm, though he doesn’t know what Kakashi would be able to do. 

In the end, the other jounin instructors also realize what’s about to happen and flicker down to the arena to stop the fight. Gai holds Neji back while Kurenai stands protectively in front of Hinata—crimson, admonishing gaze fixed on Neji. The medical team rush in with stretcher as Hinata falls unconscious, collapsing onto her back in a small pool of blood that blooms across the ground. Naruto tightens his grip on the railing until the metal creaks in protest. 

“He would have killed her,” he murmurs, shocked. “He wanted to.” 

“Mm,” Kakashi hums in agreement. His lone eye is dark, full of ghosts.  “Old wounds run deep. Sometimes, they bleed from generation to generation without healing. Hinata, I think, represents that wound to Neji, even if she herself isn’t the cause of it.” 

Man, Naruto really hates clan politics. 

“That doesn’t seem fair. To either of them,” Naruto grumbles. 

“It isn’t,” Sasuke says with a shake of his head. His shoulders bend, as though pressed down by an unseen weight, and Naruto thinks of the empty, haunting Uchiha district and an ocean of grief on Sasuke’s face. 

He shuffles over to put an arm around Sasuke’s shoulders and Sasuke lets him. 

“Well,” Kakashi sighs. “That was the final match.” 

Hayate calls an end to the preliminaries and Naruto and Sasuke join the other seven genin who advanced to the final round in the arena, which looks significantly more battered than it did a few hours ago. Kakashi and Obito warned them that there is typically a training period between the preliminaries and the finals, at least during times of peace. And sure enough, Sandaime announces that they will have one month to prepare. Daimyo from neighboring countries will be invited to attend as judges, as well as the Kazekage. 

More politics, Naruto thinks derisively. What he cares about is finding out who he’s going to be up against. 

Of course this also takes an age, as Sandaime first has them draw lots, then explains that the final round will work like a tournament. The winner of each round will advance until the remaining two genin battle each other. Throughout each round, their performance will be assessed to determine if they have what it takes to be chuunin. 

Which means that all of them could become chuunin … or none of them. Great. 

And the pair ups….

Sasuke is against Sabaku no Gaara for his first round while Naruto has to take on Neji. Great. 

“Wanna swap?” Naruto whispers to Sasuke. Two dōjutsu users seem like a much better match. 

Sasuke elbows him with his good arm as Sandaime dismisses them and they finally get to leave this cursed building and the Forest of Death behind. 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Naruto says as they collect their gear from their room in the tower. “That Sakura isn’t advancing with us.” 

Out of all of them, Naruto thinks that she was the most impressive. She went up against the strongest genin in the Exams with no kekkei genkai to back her up and she almost won. They should promote her to chuunin just for that—she’s clearly the best of them. 

“No,” Sasuke agrees. “It doesn’t.” 

Naruto glances to where Kakashi is lingering in the doorway. “Can we go to the hospital now?” 

Kakashi nods. “Sasuke needs to have his arm looked at too.” 

Sasuke glowers, but doesn’t protest—probably sensing a battle that he’s not going to win. 

Once they reach the hospital, they inquire about Sakura at the front desk and are directed to the third floor. Naruto forgot how big this place is, but it still gives him the creeps just like every other hospital he’s ever been in. Too sterile. Too much blood and sickness and disinfect lingering in the air, burning his nose. It’s a relief when they reach the third floor and he spots Obito seated on a bench outside one of the rooms at the end of the hallway—head tilted back against the wall and lone eye fixed on the ceiling. 

“Sensei!” Naruto calls and Obito shifts in their direction, snapping to awareness. His expression brightens, then darkens again when he notices the sling on Sasuke’s arm. 

“How’s Sakura?” Naruto asks before Obito can launch into an inquisition about what Sasuke did to injure himself. “Can we see her?” 

“She’s okay,” Obito says and relief tempers some of the lead that’s been sitting in the pit of Naruto’s stomach since they carried Sakura away on a stretcher. “Her leg is badly broken, but nothing that Konoha’s esteemed medical corps can’t fix. They’re running some final tests now before they allow visitors. And she’ll probably have to stay here for at least the next two weeks. Maybe three.”  

Oh Sakura’s going to hate that. 

“But what about you brats?” Obito asks, frowning at them. “Who did you fight? Did you pass?” 

“I fought Rock Lee,” Sasuke says and Obito’s eyebrows go up. 

“The mini Gai? In the spandex?” 

Sasuke nods. “He broke my arm. But I won.”  

“Damn,” Obito says with an impressed whistle. “He really is a mini Gai. Good job, though.” His gaze slides to Naruto, questioning. 

“I fought Inuzuka Kiba. And Akamaru, I guess. It was easy.” 

“Inuzuka, huh?” Obito notes. “Easy?” 

“Yeah.” Naruto rubs the back of his head. “He only got one hit on me and then I used a hidden shadow clone to do that Earth technique that Kakashi-sensei likes, where you get your opponent stuck in the ground?” 

“Oh that one’s a bitch,” Obito huffs, looking amused. 

Naruto grins. “Kiba was pretty mad.” 

Obito settles back on the bench again, smiling. His soft one that he rarely lets them see, but is one of Naruto’s favorites. “So you both made it through to the final round. I’m proud.” 

Kakashi’s hands land on his and Sasuke’s shoulders. “Our cute students have become pretty competent.” 

Sasuke snorts and Naruto rolls his eyes, trying not to act like he’s basking in the praise too much. He just likes to be acknowledged, to be seen, to have people who are proud of him. It’s what he dreamed of growing up and didn’t think he’d ever get to experience, especially when he finally graduated from the Academy and immediately ran into the wall of Ebisu’s disdain. But Kakashi and Obito give it freely and Naruto always soaks it up like a helpless sponge, yearning for more. 

“Who’re you up against in the finals?” Obito asks. 

“Gaara,” Sasuke says and Obito’s jaw tenses. 

“Hyuuga Neji,” Naruto says. “I told Sasuke we should swap but he didn’t listen.” 

“We can’t swap,” Sasuke argues. 

“Of course we can! We just show up for each other’s fights. At that point, what’re they gonna do?” 

“Nah, I think this is a good match up,” Obito cuts in before the argument can continue and disrupt the quiet of the hospital. “Sasuke’s Lightning affinity will give him an advantage over Gaara’s sand and well … if Gaara is a jinchuuriki, it might be better for you not to fight him, Naruto.” 

Naruto frowns. “Even if I can’t access the Kyuubi’s chakra?” 

“Shit,” Obito says, rubbing his temple. “We need to find a way to take care of that. But yes, still probably better.” 

“Okay,” Naruto grumbles in defeat. He would much rather fight Gaara than Neji, but then he also thinks about Hinata and blood on the floor and figures he wouldn’t mind beating Neji up a little. Enough to maybe knock some sense into him. “And you’ll train us, right? This month?” 

It’s been weird being back in Konoha. The village keeps digging old fears out of him, excavating memories that haunt like ghosts—his empty apartment, celebrating his birthday alone with a bowl of ramen at his weathered kitchen table; Mizuki calling him a monster, face twisted in disgust and fear; Ebisu’s cutting assessment that Naruto wasn’t worth training, but he was on a team with Sasuke and Sasuke was so Naruto needed to stay out of the way; the empty shine of his hitai-ate and the horrible realization that it wasn’t going to make him anything…. 

“Brat,” Obito huffs, cutting through the memories. “What do you think we’re here for?” 

Kakashi’s hand squeezes his shoulder, also grounding, and Naruto remembers Kakashi putting himself between Naruto and Orochimaru like it was nothing, even though Kakashi barely would have been able to fight back. His heart settles, the fear sinks back into the earth of him. 

“Right,” he says with a grin. “We’re not gonna let you just laze around.” 

Predictably, Obito opens his mouth to offer an angry retort, but the door to Sakura’s room opens, cutting him off. As one, the four of them turn their attention to the medic nin emerging. She freezes at the sight of them all gathered in the hallway, blinking owlishly above the wide collar of her white uniform. 

“Is Sakura okay?” Naruto asks. “Can we see her?” 

“The patient is fine,” the medic nin says in a clipped voice. “She should rest—” 

“Please?” Naruto begs. 

He keeps hearing the crunch of bone. Sakura’s scream. How limp and pale she looked as Obito laid her gently on the stretcher. 

“You should probably give up,” Obito remarks wryly. “They’ll just camp out here until you let them in.” 

The medic nin glares at him. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?” 

Obito gives her an innocent smile, stretching the scarred skin on the right side of his face. She scoffs but steps aside to let them through. “You have five minutes. Keep your voices down.” 

Naruto beelines past her. The room is small, but features a large window looking out across the rooftops of the rest of the village, and the soft spill of sunlight across the floor and the white sheets of the hospital bed lends a golden hue to Sakura’s wan skin, keeping her from looking too frail. She’s awake—bandages over the cuts on her face and arms, leg encased in a cast from ankle all the way up to mid-thigh and elevated in a sling, bruised circles under her green eyes—and she immediately brightens at the sight of him. 

“Naruto—” She tries to sit up but Naruto rushes over to stop her. 

“Ah, don’t, don’t, Sakura-chan, you need to rest.” 

Sasuke materializes next to him, face pinched in worry. “Don’t strain yourself,” he murmurs. 

Sakura lets out a frustrated sound, but obediently sinks back against the pillows. “This sucks,” she grumbles. Then holds out her hands so that they can each take one. “But I’m glad you’re both okay. Did you win?” 

“We won,” Naruto says, managing a grin. “Sasuke broke his arm, though.” 

Sasuke’s eye twitches. Sakura shifts so she can see the sling, a worried frown on her face. 

“Lee broke my arm,” Sasuke huffs. “And it’s fine. It’s mostly treated.” 

Fortunately, Sakura seems to accept this and the worry dissipates. “You fought Lee?” 

“And I fought Kiba,” Naruto says. 

“Man,” Sakura sags back against the pillows with a frustrated sigh. “I really drew the short straw.” 

“You were so badass, though!” Naruto insists, wanting to banish her despondency. “You almost beat him!” 

“Almost,” Sakura mutters. “I miscalculated.” 

Naruto glances at Sasuke. Back me up here. 

“Sakura,” Sasuke says, actually squeezing her hand. He’s gradually becoming more physically affectionate with all of them, a result of them gently but persistently wearing him down over the last year. “You fought better than I could have hoped to, than either of us would have. I…” Sasuke visibly steels himself and then actually says, out loud, “I admire you. I hope that when I have to fight him next month, I can do as well as you did.” 

Sakura gapes up at him. 

“He’s right,” Obito says, peering into the room. “Both of these idiots have a lot to live up to now, after the example you set” 

Kakashi brushes past him and puts a hand on Sakura’s forehead. “Maa, good to see you’re okay,” he says simply, which is still more verbal sentiment than Kakashi usually expresses for any of them. 

Sakura’s face twists into a grimace. “Ugh, okay. Stop, all of you, or you’re gonna make me cry.” 

Panic briefly flickers over Kakashi’s visible face and Naruto bites back a laugh. He pats Sakura’s hand. 

“Okay, get some rest, Sakura-chan! We’ll visit again tomorrow.” 

Sakura nods. She’s probably on a lot of painkillers and she seems close to dozing off already. Naruto’s just so glad that she’s okay and she’s going to heal and be back to kicking everyone’s ass, including his, very soon. 

They leave her to sleep, the same medic nin practically shooing them away, saying that she doesn’t want to see any of them until visiting hours tomorrow and the hospital staff will know if someone tries to climb in through the window. 

Kakashi assures her that nothing like that will happen, in the polite, professional tone that Naruto’s heard him use on multiple difficult clients. The medic nin only seems somewhat mollified, but she lets them go without any further threats. Kakashi still insists on getting Sasuke’s arm looked at, much to Sasuke’s annoyance, so they wait another half an hour while Sasuke is examined, admonished for running away from the medical team earlier, and ultimately fitted with a new brace and sent on his way after being instructed to return for a checkup in a few days. 

It’s late afternoon, almost golden hour, and the world is hazy as they step into the street. It’ll be summer soon and already, in these final spring weeks, the air is sticky with the promise of future humidity and heat. 

Suddenly, Naruto feels exhausted—the last three days hitting him like one of Sakura’s punches, forcing the air from his lungs. Obito’s arm slings across his shoulders, a comforting weight. 

“C’mon, kid,” he says, gentle like the quiet village around them. “Let’s get you both home.”

_ _ 

After forcing some dinner into a very tired Naruto and Sasuke and then essentially dumping them into bed, Obito gleefully sheds his restricting uniform and joins Kakashi on the roof of their little apartment building. Kakashi has also traded his flak vest for a loose shirt and let his hair flop everywhere like it normally does. Obito feels like every time they put on the trappings of a Konoha jounin, they’re stepping into an alternate reality that doesn’t fit, misshapen skin stretched too thin over bone. It’s a relief to see the right Kakashi again—his Kakashi. 

“The brats are asleep,” he says, resting his head on Kakashi’s stomach because he knows Kakashi will grumble at him, but ultimately pet his hair. “I wish I’d gotten to see their battles, but I didn’t want to leave Sakura.” 

The distance between the balcony and the arena where Sakura was lying felt like one of the greatest he’s ever crossed and his brain is still writhing and anxious, wondering what would have happened if he was a couple seconds slower, if Sabaku no Gaara had managed to kill Sakura like he clearly intended to. 

He’s not sure he would have been able to swallow that failure. It might have been the crack in his world that finally drove him mad. 

Kakashi’s fingers sink into his hair. “They were impressive,” he says, in a tone that suggests he knows exactly where Obito’s thoughts have gone and he’s trying to draw Obito out of a spiral. “They’ve come a long way. I think we might actually be good teachers.” 

Obito laughs, pressing his cheek to Kakashi’s stomach. “Who would have thought?” He chews his lip, then can’t help asking, “do you ever think about what would have happened if you’d stayed?” 

If Kakashi had let his fellow ANBU arrest or kill Obito like they intended. If he’d gone on to actually become a Konoha jounin, wearing that uniform every day, going on missions for his village. Maybe still training a genin team. 

“Yes,” Kakashi says. He rubs the back of Obito’s neck. “I think it would have been a sad life. I think the grief would have swallowed me whole.” 

Obito curls his fingers in the soft fabric of Kakashi’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of cloth. He doesn’t like imagining Kakashi spending too many hours in a graveyard, going home to an empty apartment, refusing to let anyone close. 

“I think my world would have been smaller,” Kakashi continues. “And emptier. So, even though I regret the lives I took, even though I know I made a selfish choice, I’ve never thought it was the wrong one. I didn’t….” Kakashi fingers on his neck press in, rare emotion taking over his voice. “I never wanted a life without you in it, Obito. Getting you back was the greatest gift the universe could have given me, even if I had to pay for it with blood.” 

Obito closes his eye and presses a kiss to the exposed skin of Kakashi’s wrist. “I love you,” he murmurs. 

It’s not something they say out loud to each other often—they don’t need to—but back here, surrounded by ghosts, and with the threat of Orochimaru hanging over their heads, Obito wants Kakashi to hear it. 

Obito needs to say it. 

“I love you too,” Kakashi replies. “And I love those kids. So let’s make sure we get them out of this alive.” 

Obito considers the month stretching out before them—all the pieces moving in the shadows, the blasted seal on his arm—and hasn’t been this afraid or this determined in a long time.

“Yeah,” he agrees, rolling over so that he can stare up at the sunset streaking the sky in hues of pink and gold. “Whatever it takes.” 

He’ll pay for this in blood, too, if he has to—just like Kakashi did for him. It feels like the least he can offer.

Chapter Text

It’s been a long time since Kakashi planned a true reconnaissance mission. He vaguely remembers being fourteen and waiting, hoping , that an ANBU assignment would finally kill him so that he could join the ghosts lurking in his nightmares and the corners of his barren apartment. So that he could give up on the miserable charade of living. Failed intel, an exhausted body unable to function properly, an enemy too strong for his defenses—there were dozens of ways that would have made it easy, so painfully easy. 

Now, he wonders what his broken past self would think of him. What would fourteen-year-old Kakashi make of twenty-seven-year-old Kakashi? Twenty-seven-year-old Kakashi, sitting at a kitchen table in a village he no longer belongs to, stolen maps spread across the surface, jounin uniform discarded until he’s forced to put it on again. Twenty-seven-year-old Kakashi with new and old scars, with a partner and students, with a simple cloth over his Sharingan instead of the hitai-ate he thought he would be buried in, with blood soaked into his bones that will probably never wash off. 

Twenty-seven-year-old Kakashi, preparing to commit treason for the second time in his life. 

His past self would probably be equal measures amazed and appalled, he decides with an amused huff. 

The maps were fairly easy to pilfer—he just targeted an impressionable chuunin at Hokage Tower who clearly had no idea about his reputation and bought his story about returning from a long mission abroad and wanting to catch up on the state of Konoha. He might have also flirted a little, to help his case and which Obito doesn’t need to know the details of. He’d rather not be teased for the next month. Though, it’s not like Obito hasn’t charmed various people from one end of the continent to the other over the last decade to get them a free meal or an extra night at an inn or a discount at a market. 

Obito just tends to be better at it, a little less stiff than Kakashi. 

And speaking of the devil, the front door creaks open, heralding Obito’s return to the apartment. Even without most of his chakra, Kakashi knows it’s him. After thirteen years, he knows the rhythm of Obito’s footsteps, the quiet sigh he always lets out when he’s returning to a resting place and lowering his guard, the scent of pine and earth that lingers on him as a gift from the forest sleeping beneath his skin. As embarrassing as it might be to admit, he’s pretty sure he would know Obito blind, deaf, and dumb because Obito’s etched into the soul of him now. 

“You’re back early,” he comments mildly—gaze on the maps even as he feels Obito’s hands land on his shoulders and the pressure of Obito’s chin against the top of his head. 

“Sasuke needed to get his arm examined again so I left him and Naruto at the hospital after I checked on Sakura.” 

“How is she?” Kakashi asks with a twinge of guilt that he’s only been to visit her once in the past two days. But he’ll make it up to her with the projects he’s planning on giving her very soon and there were maps to acquire, plus a pesky ANBU tail to lose. 

“Bored,” Obito says. “But not destructively bored yet.” 

“Mm, give it another week.” 

“I’ll give it another couple days.” 

Kakashi makes a quiet sound of agreement and sends a mental apology to the hospital staff that will soon be forced to deal with the full force of Haruno Sakura. 

“What are those?” Obito asks, attention turning to the maps. 

“Maps of the village,” Kakashi says. “Well … copies of them.” 

Obito flicks him lightly on the shoulder. “I can see that, but why and how do you have them?” 

“My knowledge of Konoha is twelve years out of date and a lot changed after the Kyuubi attack. Whole new sections of the village were built, so I want to see what I’m working with and where ROOT might be headquartered.” Kakashi finally leans back to peer up at Obito, smiling behind his mask. “As for how, a very helpful and oblivious chuunin.” 

Obito snorts. “Did you use your face?” 

Kakashi elbows him in the stomach. “Of course not, he was very helpful without it. You act like my face is some kind of weird trump card.” 

“Because it is,” Obito insists. “You’re a total pretty boy. You once made an innkeeper in Tea swoon so hard she almost fainted.” 

Kakashi rolls his eye in dismissal because while he’s happy that Obito is attracted to him, he doesn’t see what’s special about his face. It’s just a face, scars and all, and he only keeps it hidden out of long-ingrained habit. 

“Well, he handed over the maps without me undressing for him,” he says dryly. “And they’ve been useful.” 

Obito hums, letting the little argument drop, and crowds against Kakashi again. “Oh yeah? Do you think you have a location?” 

“I have a general idea,” Kakashi says. “The district where ANBU used to be headquartered was completely destroyed during the Kyuubi attack.” He taps a neighborhood on the outskirts of the village, near the walls. “It’s now a residential area and I think that ANBU moved to the Hokage monument itself.” He points at a cluster of new buildings on top of the mountains. “Now, officially these are residences for traveling diplomats and disaster shelters in case of another attack or calamity but I think ANBU is up here. Much more hidden and defensible than being in the village itself.” 

“Definitely,” Obito agrees, leaning over him to get a closer look at the map. Kakashi huffs as he’s pressed into the table and the edge of it digs uncomfortably into his stomach. “So you think ROOT’s there, too?” 

“I think they’re in the mountain itself,” Kakashi says. “Close enough to ANBU to mix with them when needed but separated so that ANBU can’t interfere with their business.” 

Obito whistles. “Smart. There are catacombs in the mountain, right?” 

“Yeah,” Kakashi says. “A whole cave network. It’s used for shelter and evacuations, as well, but I’m sure there are parts of it that are kept hidden and off limits.” 

“Figures Danzo would have a secret base in a cave somewhere,” Obito grumbles, shifting so that it’s his cheek resting on Kakashi’s hair. “Kakashi,” he murmurs, voice softening into a more serious tone. “What if it’s Sandaime?” 

“I’ve thought about that,” Kakashi replies just as quietly.

It’s ugly to contemplate, but that’s the world of the hidden villages. And it would make a terrible amount of sense: use them to train two of Konoha’s strongest assets, then lure them back to the village for a political event, ensure they die quietly, and retake the Last Uchiha and the Kyuubi’s jinchuuriki—now much stronger than they were before. But then where would Orochimaru factor in? Why risk Sasuke if the goal is simply to kill him and Obito? Right now, they could be quietly executed with a wave of Sarutobi’s hand. 

“And?” Obito prompts. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Kakashi decides. “Even if Orochimaru was his student, he was the one who ordered Orochimaru’s arrest and I doubt he’d willingly ally with him. What goal could Orochimaru possibly help him with? If it’s to kill us, he could do that easily on his own. Plus I doubt he’d offer up Sasuke as any kind of collateral. He’s calculating, but he isn’t cruel.” 

“No,” Obito agrees with a long exhale. “He isn’t.” 

“So for now, my main suspect is Danzo.” 

Obito squeezes his shoulders and straightens. “Fine, so how are you gonna spy on him?” 

Kakashi rubs his temple. This is the hard part. With his chakra cut off and a near constant ANBU escort, getting anywhere near their headquarters is going to be a feat. But he was a damn good spy at fourteen and he’s an even better shinobi now, so he’s not about to let either of those things stop him. 

“My trump card,” he says. “And probably some hair dye. And your help as a distraction.” Since he has no chakra signature at the moment, it also means that it’s harder for ANBU to keep track of him once he’s out of their sight—a double edged sword he’s going to take full advantage of.

“Oh man, you with a different hair color.” Obito tugs gently on Kakashi’s silver strands. “That’ll be weird.” 

“I think light brown would suit me,” Kakashi replies with a shrug. 

“Maybe.” Obito finally takes a seat at the table, a frown deepening the scars on his face. “You know I’m great at distractions, but … be careful? If you’re caught, it’s treason and ANBU—” 

“Still hate my guts,” Kakashi agrees without any bitterness, though his hand drifts up on instinct to press a palm over where his tattoo sits on his upper arm—forever marred by a web of scarring that he can feel through the sleeve of his shirt. He knows that any member of ANBU old enough to remember the night of the Kyuubi attack would gladly kill him without remorse. 

It’s not something he blames them for. 

“Yeah.” Obito grimaces. “Though I still think that’s stupid.” 

“I killed three squads,” Kakashi murmurs. “Including my own. They’re allowed to want me dead for that, Obito.” 

“You were a traumatized fourteen-year-old who wasn’t thinking clearly,” Obito snaps back—his half of a well-worn exchange. 

“I was a shinobi who committed treason and murder,” Kakashi says evenly. “And I understand why they want me to pay for it.” 

Obito shakes his head, but gives up. He’s never managed to sway Kakashi on this, just like Kakashi has never fully managed to dissuade him from the idea that the Kyuubi attack was his fault. They both have weights they carry—aspects of themselves that turned dark and monstrous and haunt them still. So, Kakashi thinks, it will always be. He’s learned to live with it. 

“Just don’t get caught,” Obito mutters. 

Kakashi reaches over to pat his arm in reassurance. “Maa, have a little faith in me.” 

“Shut up, of course I do,” Obito says, offended, and Kakashi swallows down an amused laugh. “Let’s figure out how to dye your fucking hair.” 

Kakashi does laugh, then—glad that the mask hides the stretch of his delighted grin across his face, but unable to keep the fondness out of his gaze. Obito will always find love there. It’s something Kakashi gave up trying to conceal a long time ago. 

Obito smiles back at him, the love reflected like it always is, and gets up. 

“You would look good with light brown,” he decides, hooking a finger in Kakashi’s mask and pulling it down just enough to press a warm kiss to Kakashi’s cheek. 

Kakashi winds an arm around his waist and closes his eyes, letting the nerves about what’s to come settle for a moment. He wants to reach back to that fourteen-year-old shell, washing trembling hands in the sink of a haunted estate, and hold him close. Whisper to him: it’ll be alright. In spite of the blood, the loss, you’ll be alright. It won’t hurt like this, one day. 

There are so many echoes in this village, he thinks, resting his head against Obito’s sternum. He’ll be glad to leave them behind again. 

_ _ 

After another healing session at the hospital, the medical corps clear Sasuke for duty, though with instructions not to strain his arm too much, which he’s definitely going to ignore. Naruto is off running errands, grumbling about Obito asking him to pick up groceries instead of training, so Sasuke takes the opportunity to visit Sakura in her room on the third floor. 

She’s looking better—some color back in her skin, eyes a little less dull—but she sighs in frustration when he takes a seat at her bedside. 

“This sucks,” she grumbles again, glaring at the village beyond the window like it’s offended her personally. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in here.” 

“I’ll bring you books,” Sasuke promises, making a mental note to check if the store he remembers is still there and pick up a stack for her this evening. 

“Pick good ones,” she demands and he nods in easy acquiescence. Somehow, it’s become normal for her to boss him around and it’s almost a relief to be subjected to it again. “And bring some flowers or something. It’s so … bland here.” 

“Flowers, sure,” he agrees, then drags his chair closer. “Tell me about Gaara?” 

Sakura frowns at him. “You saw me fight.” 

“But I didn’t experience it,” he points out. 

He knows that she’s been lying here for the past couple days, turning the fight over in her head during her waking hours, examining it from every angle. They share a similar analytical mind and he wants any insights she might have come to in the aftermath. 

Sakura insists on pushing herself into a sitting position, grudgingly allowing Sasuke to help settle her against her pillows before he returns to his chair and a contemplative expression steals over her face. 

“He’s fast, I’m sure you saw that. Or rather … his sand is.” She taps her fingers idly against the mattress. “His sand felt … alive, somehow. As if it had a will of its own. Or it was so instinctual to him that he didn’t have to think about directing it when it was defending him. For offense it was different, that was more deliberate, but he wasn’t using any hand seals. So either it’s a jinchuuriki ability or it’s kekkei genkai.” 

Sasuke nods again. He hadn’t noticed any hand seals, either. 

“It can be slowed down, but it recovers faster than I thought it would. That was my mistake.” She grimaces. “And you saw that he also coats himself in sand as extra armor. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know how to fight beyond the sand. He didn’t do anything to physically block my attacks.” 

Sakura hesitates, fisting her other hand in her blankets. “Sasuke,” she murmurs. “He’s not … he’s not well. The whole time we were fighting he seemed insane. Like he was a demon. Like there was something wild and horrible inside of him trying to get out.” 

“Yeah,” Sasuke agrees, remembering Gaara’s rage at Obito’s interference. “He tried to kill you.” 

Sakura doesn’t look surprised. “I thought he was going to, for a moment.” 

“He would have if Obito-sensei hadn’t stopped him.” 

Sakura shudders and Sasuke finds himself reaching out to put his hand over hers before he fully registers what he’s doing. He’s not sure when it became so easy to touch her or Naruto, when it stopped feeling wrong and alien and like taking down too many of his carefully constructed walls. 

“Do you think it’s his bijuu?” he asks to distract Sakura from whatever memory is playing through her mind. 

“It might be,” Sakura says. “But … Naruto’s never been like that.” There have been occasional glimpses of the Kyuubi, especially in Wave right after Ebisu died, but nothing as monstrous as Sabaku no Gaara. 

“Maybe it depends on the bijuu,” Sasuke theorizes. 

Sakura chews on her lip. “Maybe.” She flips her hand over so that she can thread their fingers together. “Sasuke-kun, could you bring me my sealing books too?” 

He recognizes the glint in her eye. “You have an idea.” 

“Just a vague hypothesis,” Sakura deflects with a shrug. “I’ll tell you if it becomes more concrete.” 

Sasuke accepts this, glad that Sakura has something to focus on. “I’ll bring the books,” he promises and squeezes her hand. “This evening.” 

“Good,” she says and lets him go. “I’ll be here,” she jokes and her smile is only a little pained at the edges. 

Sasuke leaves her to rest. The day is already creeping into afternoon, the shadows lengthening, and he promised that he would meet Obito at Training Ground Three to discuss whatever the next month’s regimen is going to be. This was a place he would often go to practice as a child, first with Itachi and then alone—desperate to hone his skills, to get stronger. It’s a little strange seeing Obito lounging in the shade of one of the trees, dressed in a jounin uniform and with his typical cloth covering his left eye. 

“You’re late,” he drawls when Sasuke approaches and Sasuke scoffs. 

“Sensei, you are the last person who can get mad at me about that.” 

Though Obito is only purposefully late on rare occasions, when he knows that he can cause maximum annoyance. In spite of Sasuke’s determination to rise above it, it still irritates him every time. 

“I’m the teacher,” Obito says now, standing in one fluid motion and rapping Sasuke on the head. “I get to be obnoxious.” 

“I hate you,” Sasuke says without any venom. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Obito replies cheerfully. “Now tell me about your fight with Lee. Besides the fact that he broke your arm.” 

“I used taijutsu,” Sasuke says. “And my Sharingan, that was it.” 

Obito’s visible eyebrow arches. “Why?” 

“I wanted to beat him fairly,” Sasuke says with a shrug. “Test myself against him. I could only do that if I focused on the same style he does.” 

He expects Obito to tease him. To squish his cheeks and declare that he’s grown so much and finally he’s actually listening to Obito, who is always right. But to his surprise, Obito just crouches in front of him and says, “activate your Sharingan?” 

Sasuke obeys and Obito grins. “Ha, congratulations, you unlocked another tomoe.” 

Sasuke blinks. “I did?” 

“Yep. You have two in each eye now.” 

He remembers desperately pushing his Sharingan further than he ever has and the kekkei genkai responding, sharpening the world even more for him. He didn’t realize that was what unlocking a new tomoe would feel like. 

“Why are our eyes always tied to negative stuff?” He grumbles and Obito huffs a slightly bitter laugh. 

“Negative emotion is often stronger than positive,” he explains. “So that’s what our Sharingan responds to. And as Uchiha, we tend to feel deeply, which means that negative emotion can affect us a lot more than the average person.” 

“Is that why so many of us go batshit?” Sasuke asks, trying not to picture Itachi in a darkened room—a swirl of terrifying red where his brother’s kind eyes used to be. 

“Pretty much,” Obito mutters. “So don’t push yourself to unlock your third. It’ll happen eventually.” 

“How long did it take you?” Sasuke asks because so much of his cousin’s early shinobi years remains a mystery to him. He wasn’t a genius like Itachi and he apparently was such a terrible ninja that he nearly failed the Chuunin Exams, even during a time of war, yet his Sharingan is so powerful that it makes him untouchable. 

“Ah,” Obito says, actually looking a little sheepish. “Well, I had two when I first activated them. And then I kind of jumped straight to Mangekyō.” His gaze goes dark. “Don’t recommend that.” 

Sasuke’s mouth drops open. “But you said you were a terrible shinobi?” 

“I was.” Obito shrugs. “But I was really good at using my Sharingan. Go figure.” He pauses, thoughtful. “Though honestly it might have been the war. So much death and loss and peril all the time.” A squeeze to Sasuke’s shoulder. “Don’t recommend that, either.” 

“No,” Sasuke agrees and Obito rises back to his full height with another pat to Sasuke’s head. 

“So what’s your plan for Gaara? I assume you talked to Sakura?” 

“I did,” Sasuke says. 

There are several wooden posts stuck into the ground nearby, sporting hundreds of knicks and grooves from being used as target practice. Sasuke hops onto the top of one of them, swinging one leg back and forth in a comforting rhythm. 

“Getting through his sand is the most important part. My Sharingan will give me speed that Sakura didn’t have, and I might actually be able to move faster than the sand, allowing me to get through its defense. The ultimate goal is to end the fight quickly. If I can get inside his barrier, then chidori should be able to deal with his armor. Once that’s gone, he won’t have any defenses and he’s so reliant on the sand, I don’t expect him to know taijutsu or even other ninjutsu. So fight over.” 

“Not a bad strategy,” Obito says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the post. “Ending the fight quickly is definitely important. He’s obviously not stable and if that’s because of his bijuu, the last thing we need is him losing control.” 

That’s not something Sasuke had considered. “What happens then?” 

“The Ichibi gets out,” Obito says grimly. “And causes a lot of chaos and destruction.” 

Well. That’s terrifying. “If that’s a risk, why would they put him in the Exams?” 

“Maybe they think he can control it,” Obito says. “Or maybe they just don’t care. After all,” he smirks, “it’s not their village.” 

Sasuke shakes his head. “If the Ichibi gets out, what then?” 

“Run,” Obito says. “Theoretically, the Sharingan can suppress tailed beast chakra and control them but I’ve never tested it.” He pauses, frowning, and touches just under his eye. He looks somewhere far away, lost in the past. “Or rather, I don’t really remember testing it.” 

Before Sasuke can offer comfort, he shakes himself free of the melancholy. “So don’t try. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Sasuke agrees, not eager to test himself against a fully released bijuu. “So what sadistic training regimen are you going to inflict on me?” 

“Kakashi, not me,” Obito says, taking Sasuke by surprise again. 

“Really?” 

“Like you said, chidori is going to be instrumental and only Kakashi can help you with that. So you’ll be working with him to start while I try to teach Naruto how to take on a Hyuuga.” 

“Have fun with that,” Sasuke says, resting his cheek on a bent knee. “The Byakugan is creepy.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Obito says, amused. “We have red evil eyes.” 

“Our eyes are much cooler,” Sasuke insists and Obito laughs—a full-bodied cackle that makes him seem young, face all scrunched up. 

Sasuke grins. It’s nice to make Obito laugh, to laugh with him about something that normally feels so heavy. 

“Fine,” Obito surrenders, reaching up to put an affectionate hand on Sasuke’s head. “Our eyes are cooler. You can show yours off by letting me see how much faster you are now.” 

Sasuke lets his grin settle into a smirk. Challenge accepted. 

_ _ 

“Look,” Naruto says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his tone polite. “I can pay for everything.” He waves his wallet. “And it’s one bag of groceries. Please just ring me up.” 

The elderly shopkeeper glares at him with arms crossed over his bony chest, refusing to touch the bag of rice, packs of noodles, bottle of soy sauce, and handful of vegetables Naruto set on his counter. It’s like ten items total, Naruto didn’t think it would be a problem or he would have gone to the market instead. It’s further away from the apartment, but tends to be busy enough that they don’t have time to shun him. 

Gods, after a year of no one sparing him a second look, thinking that the marks on his cheeks were some kind of clan symbol, this is jarring. So much for hoping that the people of Konoha would stop being hostile if he went away for a while. Or respect him if he became a shinobi. He’s pretty sure the hitai-ate actually makes it worse so he’d left it at home this morning, dressing in simple pants and an unassuming t-shirt in an effort to further blend in. 

He’s realizing now he shouldn’t have bothered. 

“I don’t serve demons,” the shopkeeper says. 

Naruto takes a deep breath, remembering that shouting won’t help, either. “Good thing I’m not one then, eh, ojiisan?” 

The fan in the corner of the shop whirs furiously, trying to drive away the sticky summer heat. Sweat still beads at the base of his neck and along his forehead, beneath the cover of his bangs. He just wants to get the stupid supplies Obito-sensei asked for and return to the cool safety of their temporary apartment. He also wants to punch this grandpa in the face, but that would be frowned upon. 

“Get out,” the shopkeeper snaps. 

“You’re turning away legitimate business!” Naruto finally yells, knuckles bleaching white as his fingers press into the leather of his wallet. 

The grandpa flinches, fear and disgust mingling on his weathered face. 

Naruto tries to temper his volume and crosses his arms over his chest instead of waving them violently like he wants, mirroring the shopkeeper’s pose. “Just tell me how much the groceries are and I’ll go. It’ll take like one minute.” 

And then he won’t have to walk all the way to the market in the middle of a blisteringly humid afternoon. 

“No,” the shopkeeper says stubbornly. “Get out.” He reaches threateningly for a nearby broom and Naruto knows from experience that it’ll be wielded against him without hesitation or remorse. Most people had no trouble physically driving away a small child, let alone the teenager he is now. 

He prepares to admit defeat, in spite of his pride, when the bell jangles above the door, heralding the arrival of a new customer. 

“Naruto?” A familiar voice says and he glances over his shoulder, surprised to see Sasuke frowning at him from just across the threshold of the small store. He’s also dressed casually, though he was meeting Obito at one of the training grounds. 

Naruto tries to smile and can’t quite manage it. “Oi, Sasuke, what are you doing here?” 

“I was on my way home and I thought I heard yelling that sounded like you.” His dark gaze flickers from the shopkeeper to Naruto. “I guess I was right.” 

Naruto’s pride wants to deflect, to make an excuse about the argument and steer Sasuke out of the store, but the rest of him wants Sasuke’s anger on his behalf, wants to reassure himself that Sasuke has his back. 

“Ah, this ojiisan and I were just having a disagreement,” Naruto explains, pointing a thumb at the shopkeeper. “He doesn’t want to let me buy groceries because I’m a demon and they don’t serve demons, but I was trying to point out to him that he’s turning down good business. He doesn’t wanna listen, though, he was gonna hit me with a broom.” 

It’s a relief and immensely gratifying to witness the rage bloom across Sasuke’s face, turning his expression icier than a glacier in the Land of Snow. 

“You were going to physically assault a paying customer?” Sasuke asks and his voice is just as frigid, sharp enough to draw blood. 

The shopkeeper blinks, clearly thrown by having someone side with the “Kyuubi.” “I…he’s—” 

“He’s a shinobi of Konoha,” Sasuke says, stepping up to brush his shoulder against Naruto’s. “Do you have a problem with the shinobi who protect this village, ojiisan?” 

“N-no,” the grandpa stammers, eyes wide and panicked. “I just—” 

Sasuke takes another step forward and the shopkeeper flinches, but all Sasuke does is start tipping Naruto’s groceries into one of the store’s paper bags. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You’re donating these,” Sasuke says—tone leaving no room for argument. “As an apology for threatening violence against a customer and a shinobi. Or would you like me to involve the authorities?” 

Naruto doubts the authorities would actually help them in this scenario. Sasuke, maybe, but certainly not him—he’s vandalized the Hokage monument far too many times to expect any sympathy. Still, the shopkeeper looks terrified and actually starts helping Sasuke load the groceries faster. 

“No,” he says. “Of course not. Thank you for your business, shinobi-san.” 

Naruto can’t help leveling the man with a taunting grin. “Any time, ojiisan.” 

That earns him another withering glare, but no actual retaliation. Naruto salutes as he follows Sasuke out of the store, throwing in a wink for further petty revenge. The door closes on the shopkeeper’s red, fuming face. 

Out on the street, Naruto takes the bag from Sasuke and punches him gently on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sasuke.” 

“Hn.” Sasuke shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, a troubled look furrowing his brow. “Naruto … has it always been like that?” 

Oh. Naruto winces. He wants to deflect again, downplay the shunning and the loneliness and the creeping despair. He also promised, to himself, not to lie to his team. “Heh, yeah.” He tries to keep his voice light, unbothered. “But it’s fine! Ichiraku always gave me ramen, and there was one shop with this grandma who was practically blind who would sell me food that was almost expired at a discount—oh, and I got pretty good at scavenging at restaurants—they throw away so much good stuff—so it’s not like I was starving or anything—” 

He registers the stricken expression Sasuke is sporting and snaps his mouth closed with another wince. Right. None of that is normal. It’s pathetic and depressing and he shouldn’t have brought any of it up. 

Sasuke’s frozen in the middle of the street, hesitant and uncertain. 

“Ah, sorry.” Naruto rubs the back of his head, trying to smooth things over. “It’s all in the past, though! So don’t worry about it, Sasuke, really—” 

He startles when Sasuke’s arm suddenly loops through his. Sasuke doesn’t look at him, but his fingers dig into Naruto’s skin—a weird, comforting pressure. 

“Dobe,” he says quietly and for once the insult sounds more like an endearment. “I’ll threaten anyone you need me to.” 

Oh gods. Naruto nearly panics at the sudden burn of tears, vision blurring and breath hiccuping in his chest. Oh no, he can’t cry in the middle of the village. He can’t cry in front of Sasuke. He blinks frantically, trying to stop the gathering water from overflowing down his cheeks, and turns his face away from Sasuke. Some still spills—a hot trail to his chin— and he awkwardly wipes it away using his shoulder, since Sasuke has monopolized his only free arm. 

“Thanks,” he manages to croak, hideously embarrassed. “Now stop being nice to me.” 

Sasuke snorts and takes the bag, acting like he doesn’t trust Naruto to carry it instead of giving Naruto the opportunity to further clean his face. 

“Don’t get used to it,” he says, echoes of his old arrogance in his voice, though with a teasing undercurrent it never possessed a year ago. 

And Naruto cares about him so much in this moment that it’s almost painful—an ache radiating from his chest down through his ribcage. He wills it away, unable to face it, and grasps for normalcy. 

“Are you done training with Obito-sensei?” 

“Yeah,” Sasuke says. “He didn’t push me too hard today because of my arm. And I think Kakashi-sensei is gonna handle most of my training. You’re stuck with Obito.” 

“Oh joy,” Naruto grumbles, though he doesn’t mean it. 

Sasuke glances up at the sky, checking the time from the sun’s position. “I was going to get Sakura some books. And flowers. Wanna drop this off and then go?” 

“Sure,” Naruto agrees easily. “Though you’re gonna have to do the talking.” 

Sasuke’s lips press into a displeased line, but he doesn’t bring up the incident at the store. “Not a problem.” 

They continue down the street in companionable silence. 

_ _ 

It’s been a slow day at the shop, probably due to the heat, and Ino is bored out of her mind. She would much rather be training, or even suffering through barbeque with Shikamaru and Chouji, than stuck behind the counter in a stuffy apron. The humidity is also ruining her hair and as summer deepens, she becomes more and more tempted to cut it off, especially after seeing how short Sakura’s hair is now. 

Honestly, it looks freeing. 

Maybe she should one up Forehead Girl and just shave her head. 

Suddenly, the door opens and she perks up at the prospect of a customer, even if it’s probably the grandmother that lives up the street and always stops by for flowers for her husband’s grave. Often, she’ll come bearing sweets that she insists Ino take, ignoring all of Ino’s protests about being on a diet. 

But it’s not the grandmother. Ino’s mouth drops open when Uchiha Sasuke walks into her shop, trailed closely by Uzumaki Naruto. Sasuke has a bag that seems to be full of books slung over one shoulder and both him and Naruto are out of the combat-ready attire they were sporting in the Forest of Death, dressed in baggy shorts and t-shirts instead. 

He’s as handsome as she remembers from their Academy days: same regal features, same fathomless dark eyes, same casual confidence. But he’s changed so much, too. She saw it in the market and she sees it now: how open he is when before he was nothing but icy walls of indifference, how much softer his sharp edges have become, how once he wouldn’t give Naruto the time of day and now he has a hand on Naruto’s shoulder like they’re friends. 

He stops when he sees her and she marvels at the surprise on his face—the emotion he allows himself to express instead of clinging to his stoic image. 

“Oh, Ino,” he says and Ino tries to remember if he’s ever actually spoken to her before. To be honest, she wasn’t sure he knew her name. “You work here?” 

Ino manages to unstick her tongue. Her mouth is suddenly too dry, in spite of the humidity. “It’s my family’s shop.” 

“Ah!” Naruto leans around Sasuke, a bright grin on his face. He’s so different, too. Calmer, more settled into his skin. She thinks, with faint shock, that she might have liked this Naruto if he’d been in her Academy class instead of the obnoxious prankster that grated constantly on her and everyone’s nerves. 

“That’s so cool!” Naruto continues. He glances around at the displays with interest. “It’s a really pretty shop.” 

“Thank you,” Ino says, thrown. 

Sasuke stuffs his hands into his pockets—his typical pose but his shoulders are actually relaxed, his guard down. Ino fights the continued urge to gape. 

“We’re looking for flowers for Sakura,” Sasuke explains. “Something colorful.” 

Oh. Sakura. Ino still hasn’t been to visit her, though she keeps telling herself she should go. Sakura’s battle with Gaara keeps replaying in her head, over and over like a film reel. How powerful Sakura was, how cool she looked, how brutally the fight ended—all of it showing Ino that the gap between her and Sakura is the distance from the base of a mountain to its peak, a yawning chasm like the ones lining the border with Earth. Sakura has become a kunoichi strong enough to go up against someone like Sabaku no Gaara and nearly win, while Ino soundly lost her match against an Oto nin—the fight not even lasting five minutes. 

It’s maddening. And terrifying. It feels like an essential part of Ino’s world has been tilted and she can’t find her balance again. Sakura was always, if not beneath her, then at least her equal. 

And now Uchiha Sasuke is here, buying her flowers. 

“Right,” Ino says, aware of two sets of eyes on her. “You could get her lilies. And hydrangeas. Chrysanthemums are also good. They’re all colorful and they symbolize good fortune, perseverance, and a long life.” 

Naruto nods, smiling again. “Awesome! Uh … which ones are they?” 

Ino points them in the direction of the correct containers and watches as they shuffle over together, heads bent close 

“We should get Sakura-chan the red ones,” Naruto says, touching a lily. “She still likes red. And yellow!” 

Sasuke nods along, seemingly content to let Naruto pick what he wants. His gaze drifts over to a bucket of peonies, next to the chrysanthemums, and something complicated flickers over his face before he reaches out to take a soft pink one. 

“Peonies, too,” he murmurs and Naruto arches an eyebrow but doesn’t question him. 

Soon, they have a large bouquet that they bring over for Ino to wrap. She does it mechanically, tying it off with a small bow. 

“Thanks,” Sasuke says, extracting his wallet. 

“On the house,” Ino blurts. Her mother will be mad at her giving business away but there is still a crush that hasn’t entirely dissipated and the guilt for not visiting Sakura yet, for not knowing what to say. 

Sasuke blinks at her, taken aback, but he doesn’t argue. “Thank you.” 

This is probably the longest conversation she’s ever had with him, and she can recognize that’s pathetic. 

“Um,” she says as she hands over the bouquet. “Is Sakura okay?” 

“She’s okay!” Naruto says. “Sakura-chan’s a badass so this won’t slow her down too much. I think she’s super bored, though, so we’re bringing her books.” He gestures to the bag still on Sasuke’s shoulder. “And the flowers. Since hospitals are so bland.” 

The Sakura that Ino remembers was shy and delicate, more interested in fashion and her hair than fighting. How did that girl turn into someone able to shake off a crushed leg? How? 

“Oh,” Ino says. “I’m … glad she’s alright.” 

Sasuke is looking at her with strange knowing, as though he can see the churn of her thoughts. She pastes on a smile. “Now that you’re back in Konoha, Sasuke-kun, you should come get barbeque with us! Everyone’s curious about what you’ve been up to for the past year.” She glances at Naruto. “Um, Naruto too.” 

“Really?” Naruto grins, happy to be invited. But he doesn’t immediately accept. 

“We’ll think about it,” Sasuke says and actually offers her a slight bow.  “See you later, Ino.” 

“Bye!” Naruto gives her an exuberant wave and slings an arm across Sasuke’s shoulders as they leave. 

Sasuke doesn’t shrug him off. 

Ino sinks back onto her stool behind the counter and struggles to figure out what to feel. Probably, she thinks with wry amusement, she should start with talking to Sakura. 

_ _ 

“I think it’s time to stop this, Sakura. We’ve put up with this ridiculous idea of you being a shinobi for long enough. It was one thing when you were just attending the Academy, but now look at you!” 

Her mother gestures to Sakura’s elevated, bandaged leg with a violent jerk of her hand. Standing in the middle of this small hospital room, she seems to tower—an angry giant looming over Sakura’s bed. Sakura’s fingers tangle in the blankets, pulling them taut, and she feels her shoulders hunch up around her ears in a familiar defensive position. 

“Okaa-san,” she mutters in helpless protest. 

It was probably foolish to hope that her parents didn’t find out about her hospitalization. They’ve been hovering in the background ever since she came back. When she finally ventured home, her mother’s first greeting was an expression of dismay over the state of her hair and the few small scars littering her arms, as well as how tan she’d gotten. 

That visit ended in a fight that sent Sakura fleeing back to the safety of Team 7’s rented apartment.

Now she can’t run and she curses the universe for spiting her like this.  

“Your leg was nearly crushed!” her mother shouts while her father hovers awkwardly in the background, as passive as always. 

“It’ll heal,” Sakura insists. 

“You could be killed! Permanently maimed! This is no life for you.” 

“I know the risks!” Sakura finally raises her voice, trying to make herself imperious while sitting in a hospital bed. “I knew them when I joined the Academy. They’re part of being a kunoichi and this is the life I want. This is the life I chose, why can’t you respect that?” 

“Because you’re a child who doesn’t know better,” her mother spits. “Full of silly dreams of being some kind of hero. I refuse to let my only child get herself killed for nothing!” 

Sakura bows her head in frustration. Her mother is right: it was easier to get away with this dream when she was just attending the Academy. When beyond that, she was still a normal girl who loved clothes and her hair and wanted to be swept off her feet by a handsome boy. She convinced them to let her travel because it would expand her horizons. Her parents could brag about their cultured daughter off seeing the continent with elite, well-respected teachers. 

But now? What excuses does she have left? What arguments can she make from a hospital room? None that would change her mother’s mind—a mother who dreamed of having a beautiful daughter who would marry a wealthy man and give her beautiful grandchildren. Who would stay in the village and take care of her when she aged, cut from the same kind of cloth that she was. Headstrong, yes, but traditional. 

“Please leave,” Sakura says. “I’m tired.” 

It’s not much of a lie. Her leg hurts and the painkillers they have her on still make her groggy. There’s a pile of books from Sasuke and Naruto next to her bed that she hasn’t had the energy to touch, falling asleep within a couple pages. 

She doesn’t have the strength to continue with this pointless battle. 

“Excuse me?” her mother says, though she shouldn’t be shocked by the disrespect by now. In this, they are cut from the same cloth: tempers like storms and more stubborn than a mountain. 

“Get out,” Sakura snaps, resisting the urge to reach down and hurl one of the books at her mother’s head. That would be a step too far, even for her. “I need to rest.” 

Fury contorts her mother’s face, but her father finally decides to make himself useful, stepping forward to touch his wife’s arm. 

“Let’s leave her for now, dear,” he says in an imploring tone. “We can always talk about this later.” 

She’s not going anywhere is heavily implied and unfortunately true. 

“Fine,” her mother snaps. “Rest well.” 

It sounds like an insult and is probably meant as one. Look how bad you are at being a ninja, doesn’t that mean you should give it up? 

Sakura clenches her jaw hard enough to ache but stays silent while her parents leave. Only once  their retreating footsteps have completely faded does she tip her head back and yell at the ceiling—a brief, angry shout so she doesn’t alarm the medical staff. She wants to punch through a wall, cause an earthquake, go fight Sabaku no Gaara again and win this time. Instead, she flops back against her pillows with a groan. 

The window slides open, startling her, and Kakashi climbs through. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, though still with his ever-present mask and a patch over his left eye. He also looks extremely sheepish, even with only about a quarter of his face visible. 

Sakura sighs. “How much of that did you hear, sensei?” 

Kakashi coughs, stepping over to the bed. “Only the last part. When she called your dreams silly and you threw her out.” 

“And you didn’t use the door because…?” 

He shrugs. “Checking in at the front desk gets annoying.” 

Sakura snorts, but Naruto and Sasuke both came through the window last night, citing the same thing, and she can’t blame them. Honestly, it’s ridiculous that the hospital of a shinobi village even bothers with trying to enforce a front door only policy in the first place. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” she mutters, curling into herself as much as she can with her leg suspended. It’s embarrassing: being treated like a little girl in front of one of her sensei, being reminded yet again of the difference between her and the rest of her team. 

“Don’t be,” Kakashi says softly, dragging over a chair with one foot. He hesitates as he sits down then offers, “do you want to talk about it?” 

Sakura balls her hands into fists. “My mother always knew what kind of daughter she wanted. I’ve never been that daughter. Maybe I was closer to it, back during my Academy days, but not anymore. It makes her angry. And scared, I think.” 

Kakashi hums. “She can’t force you to do anything. Under Konoha law, you’re an adult when you become a full-fledged genin.” 

“I know,” Sakura murmurs. “She’ll probably just disown me over it.” She presses her face into her pillow, willing herself not to cry in front of Kakashi. “Am I a horrible daughter if I hope that happens? Because it would make things easier?” 

“No.” Kakashi’s hand rests gently on her arm. “I think that makes you human, Sakura.” 

“What were your parents like?” Sakura asks and Kakashi tilts his head, sadness creeping in.

“I never knew my mother,” he says, old sorrow in his voice. “She died from complications in childbirth. And my father….” He sighs, gaze turning hazy and distant. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Sakura rushes to reassure him, sensing that this might be another one of his walls that she still occasionally runs into—something too painful for him to talk about. 

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s … it’s ancient grief now.” He still straightens as though steeling himself, his voice shifting into a calm cadence that she recognizes as one he occasionally reaches for when he’s feeling too emotional and wants to hide a little. “My father was an incredible shinobi, a living legend in his time. They called him the White Fang. The Hatake was once a respected clan, but war thinned our numbers until it was just my father and me. When I was a child, he ended up sacrificing a mission to save his comrades. The mission was critical to the war effort so he was seen as abandoning his duty. The village shunned him, even the people that he saved.” 

“That’s awful,” Sakura murmurs. 

Kakashi nods, eye an abyss. “I was too young to understand. I blamed him, too, for the hatred of the village. For the way I was also seen as a pariah. Eventually, it was too much. He….” A shaky breath. “He committed suicide. When I was five.” 

“Oh,” Sakura whispers in horror. To be that young and have your only parent … she can’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry, sensei.” 

“It’s okay, Sakura,” Kakahsi says, eye curving in a reassuring smile. “I said that it’s old grief and it is. I hated him for a long time, for that selfish choice to leave me on my own. I have more sympathy for him now, for the pain that he was in. But there are many ways that parents can fail their children. I’m sorry that yours have also failed you.” 

“I just want them to see me,” Sakura says—the words building inside of her like a river pushing against a dam, begging to overflow. The last few days have been so turbulent and the painkillers have worn her defenses down even more, so the dam is crumbling and she feels helpless to stop it. “Kakashi-sensei, do you know that you’re the first person who ever saw me? Who ever looked at me and thought I had potential?” 

Kakashi coughs, but he doesn’t wave her off like he normally would. “I’m sorry,” is all he says, another gentle apology. “That it took until me for that to happen. You deserved better.” 

“It’s—you’ve been more of a parent in the last year than I think they ever were,” Sakura blurts and senses Kakashi freeze, clearly floored by that statement. 

It’s probably too vulnerable, too emotional, but it’s also true and she doesn’t want to take it back. 

“You—” Kakashi pauses and when Sakura risks a glance up at him, a mixture of confusion and what might be awe has blown his eye wide. “You really think of me that way?” 

“Yes,” Sakura mumbles, still trying not to let the gathering tears escape. 

This definitely makes her a horrible daughter, but when she thinks of parents now the first things that come to mind are Kakashi's quiet, persistent encouragement and Obito’s open pride. Kakashi in the hush of morning, calling her a leader. Obito’s grin when she managed to land a hit on him. The soothing murmur of Kakashi’s voice telling her how to hold a needle. The firm grip of Obito’s hands as he adjusts her taijutsu stance. 

It’s not the people who arguably raised her, but never once understood who she is. 

Kakashi coughs again, looking a little lost. But he isn’t fleeing out the window, so she figures that’s good. 

“I never once imagined I would have children,” he finally says, staring down at his own hands. “For a lot of reasons.” 

“What reasons?” Sakura can’t help asking. 

“Well.” Kakashi’s gaze tips to the ceiling, his voice turning wry. “First, I was never going to marry a woman. Or be with one.” 

Sakura bites her lip, wondering how far she can push this vulnerable moment. “Has it … has it always been men, Sensei?” 

She winces as soon as the question is past her mouth, horrified at the boundaries she probably just crossed. Maybe it’s something she has been curious about because she hasn’t seen a lot of men together in the way that Kakashi and Obito are—or women, though there was a wonderful couple running an inn in Bird that had clearly been partners for decades—but that doesn’t make asking proper. 

Kakashi just seems amused, though. “Pretty much,” he says, and then moves on. “Other reasons too. Mainly I didn’t think I could be any kind of father. You just heard the example that my own was and … well I was a weapon instead of a child, and then I was technically a criminal. I have too many ghosts and demons to count. What would I know about raising children?” 

“You’re really good at it,” Sakura insists. 

His eye crinkles and he looks softer than she thinks she’s ever seen him. 

“You three mean a lot to me,” he says and it’s her turn to be floored. Logically, she’s known that for months, but it’s surprising to hear him say it. Especially when he also leans over to put a hand on her head and continues with, “and if you think of me like a parent, then, Sakura, I am extremely proud to have you as a daughter.” 

Oh. Well that’s too much. Sakura loses the war against her tears, hiccuping on a sob. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear from her biological parents, which is probably why Kakashi decided to say it—always so perceptive, even when she thinks she’s managing to hide from him. 

“Maa, Sakura,” Kakashi says, distressed, “Don’t cry.” 

“Good tears,” Sakura manages to choke out through her sniffles. “It’s okay.” 

This has washed away most of the anger and guilt and shame from her mother’s visit. 

Kakashi mutters something inaudible and leans further forward, actually wrapping her up in an awkward hug. She presses her cheek to his broad shoulder and sobs out a laugh.

“Sensei, you keep saying … you’re not the hugging type … but I’m gonna stop believing you at this rate.” 

“This is a special circumstance,” Kakashi insists. “I can do special circumstances.” 

Sakura closes her eyes and lets herself be held, tugging at Kakashi’s shirt until he shifts into a more comfortable position seated on the edge of the bed. In turn, he rubs her back until she finally has her tears under control and her sobs have abated, leaving her wrung out and exhausted. 

“Kakashi-sensei,” she mutters as he guides her to lie down. “This stays between us.” The last thing she wants is Naruto and Sasuke finding out she cried everywhere and admitted to thinking of her sensei as better parents than her actual parents. 

“Agreed,” Kakashi says. “Though you should tell Obito at some point because he’ll hit the stratosphere.” 

Sakura wheezes a laugh at that mental image and nods. “I will.” 

“You should get some sleep,” Kakashi says, patting her head again as he rises to his feet. “You’ll feel better.” 

Something occurs to her. “But … why did you come to visit?” 

“What, I can’t come see my favorite student?” Kakashi asks with an arched eyebrow. 

“You can,” Sakura says. “But you also know I’m bored.” 

Kakashi laughs. “Maa, you’re right. I had an ulterior motive.” 

“What is it?” 

“You should sleep first.” 

Sakura stubbornly shakes her head. “Tell me.” 

Kakashi sighs, overly put upon, and returns to his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I have a mission for you.” 

_ _ 

The moon is nearly full tonight, bathing the village in silver, and the heat lingers, only a little less cloying now that the sun has long set. Kakashi takes a meandering journey from the hospital back to their little apartment, enjoying the quiet streets in spite of the ANBU tail he knows is shadowing him in the trees. 

His conversation with Sakura loops through his head, echoes in his chest. She thinks of him like a parent. She considers him a better parent than her own biological ones. He knew, as a teacher, he was responsible for Team 7. It was his job to train them and guide them, to make sure they were clothed and fed, to equip them to face the darker parts of their world and come out the other side intact. Somehow, he didn’t draw a mental line from that to actually raising them, but that’s what he and Obito have been doing, isn’t it? 

Sakura clearly seems to think so. Do Naruto and Sasuke agree? Kakashi isn’t about to ask them, he decides. He’s had enough emotional vulnerability for at least the next month. Maybe six, considering the fact that he actually talked about his father, hugged Sakura, and called her his daughter. 

Gods. 

But she needed to hear it. She looked so defeated and small, cut down by her mother’s harsh words, and Kakashi was desperate to bolster her confidence again. And he’d meant it, that’s the terrifying part—it would be easy to truly think of her as a daughter. To look at all of Team 7 and declare those are my kids. Obito’s already does it, but Kakashi hasn’t taken that step, even as he’s admitted openly to loving them. 

Too many parents fail their children. It’s a tragic fact of life, especially in a world like theirs—full of war and death and violence and politics and messy, complicated legacies. He always assumed that if he had children, he would be one of those failures. As he said to Sakura, what does he know about being a father? It took him an agonizingly long time just to figure out how to be human after a war-ravaged childhood, staining his hands with blood at only six years old. How could he raise a child without hurting them? Cycles of violence so often repeat themselves, damaging each generation anew. 

But with Team 7 it’s felt … natural. Not easy, per se—both him and Obito have done far too much internal agonizing for that—but… 

He wants to encourage their dreams. He wants them to have a better life than he did. He wants to protect them. He wants to soothe their hurts and their fears and their worries while still teaching them to be strong enough to stand up for themselves. He wants to cheer their accomplishments, to tell them openly how proud he is of them just to see their faces light up—turn young and joyous like they should be. 

And he’s coming to realize that all of those things are what a parent should do, what a parent should strive for. Perhaps he doesn’t need to have a good example to follow, just trying to avoid all the bad ones from his past has been enough. 

Kakashi sighs, rubbing his chest as though that will settle the roiling emotions crashing through him like an angry sea. He probably needs to talk to Obito about this. 

Obito will also probably just scoff and go: Bakakashi, of course they're ours. Where have you been for the last year? 

The ANBU escort moves from a tree to a nearby rooftop, a darting shadow, and Kakashi glances down at the damning seal on his arm. 

But will we be allowed to keep them? 

He doesn’t have an answer, just the knowledge of how badly it will hurt if they’re taken away. 

Chapter Text

Obito has never believed in ghosts. At least not in specters dressed in white with hair over their faces, wailing in the night through broken and forgotten places. During the war, some shinobi used to whisper about seeing gashadokuro roaming the forests on moonless nights, but Obito always scoffed at superstition. No, his ghosts visit him in dreams and they always wear faces that he recognizes, dipped in the violent gold of memory. The boy that he was, who died crushed beneath a boulder; the boy Kakashi was, knelt in the bloody remnants of a battlefield; Minato and Kushina, curled together in death; Rin, Rin, always Rin.

He doesn’t believe in ghosts, but even he can’t deny that there is something haunted about the Uchiha District. The blood and the bodies are long gone but Obito can feel the echo of horror here. It’s the same bone chill he experiences near old battle sites—a sense-memory of violence. He cuts quickly through the early morning mist, drawing his jacket tight around his hunched shoulders, and doesn’t let his gaze linger too long on any of the empty buildings.

Navigating these streets used to be second nature to him and he’s surprised how familiar they remain after fifteen years away—after trauma and loss destroyed the boy who lived here, who was constantly rushing home to his grandmother or leaving late for training. He passes a cluster of houses that used to contain his grandmother’s modest one and picks up his pace.

His destination looms out of the fog, situated at the heart of the district, and Obito stops beneath the arch of the torii, startled by the sharp pang in his chest. The Nakano Shrine, where meetings were once held. Where his grandmother took him once a week to pray, when he was home from missions. He has a sudden lance of memory: knelt before the altar, asking for guidance on his upcoming Chuunin Exams, promising his ancestors that he would make them proud.

Ha.

He sags against one of the torii’s wooden pillars, wondering if he should turn back. He’s chasing more ghosts—memories and potential secrets that might not even be real. He should take his own advice to Sasuke and leave this buried, what good is disturbing the dead?

(Underneath the underneath.)

But who is he kidding? He was always going to come back here, as soon as he was allowed in Konoha again. His thirst for knowledge, for understanding, outweighs his trepidation. Or perhaps it’s his foolish heart, desperate to find an explanation for the transformation of a cheerful child he loved into a mass murderer.

He takes a steadying breath and ascends the steps of the shrine, sliding open the broken shoji. The main hall remains intact, not even a trace of blood, every tatami pristine. The altar still sits at the back, flanked by faded Uchiha fans. The murals on the walls have also chipped and worn, but the swirling reds and golds of a sunrise-sky glimmer in the weak dawn light spilling through the holes in the shoji.

Obito has the strange urge to pray, but he gave up on anyone hearing him years ago.

He’s here for a different reason.

He lights the lamps around the room and begins his search, carefully lifting each mat. In the tattered recesses of his memory, a voice in the dark murmurs about secrets buried here. Secrets that the Uchiha clan hoarded for generations. Of course, he doesn’t remember who the voice belongs to—it could be a figment of his imagination, he almost wants it to be, but…

Under the seventh mat, he finds a trapdoor.

Well, shit.

It still opens easily, only a faint creak of protesting hinges that have begun to rust with disuse. Darkness waits below, beckoning.

“Stop,” a voice says and he glances up to find an ANBU standing in the middle of the meeting hall.

He’s wearing a wolf mask and for a breath, Obito thinks he really is looking at a ghost, but no this ANBU’s hair is a dull auburn, not silver.

“Why?” Obito asks, tilting his head to the side with an arched eyebrow. “This is my family shrine.”

“This district is off limits,” the ANBU declares, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not permitted here.”

“Even though I’m an Uchiha?”

“You forfeited your right to your clan privileges when you betrayed this village. Leave.”

Obito glances at the open hatch, calculating. Even without his chakra, he’d probably be fast enough to get down there before the ANBU could cross the room. The ANBU would definitely follow him and then probably arrest him, but he’d know what his clan was hiding.

Though, if he gets himself arrested there’s nothing stopping Konoha from taking it out on Kakashi. Danzō, at least, would advocate for that. The bastard.

“Is there something down here the Hokage doesn’t want me to see?” he asks the ANBU. Then pauses, considering. “Or Danzō?”

The ANBU doesn’t so much as twitch. Damn.

“Come quietly or I will arrest you, Uchiha.”

“I thought you just said I wasn’t an Uchiha?”

The ANBU’s gloved hand drifts to his katana. Obito decides not to risk it. He has a month to try again, now that he knows something is actually here. He’ll be more secretive next time, maybe ask Kakashi along to provide a distraction.

For now, he raises his hands in surrender and kicks the trapdoor closed. “Fine, fine. I’m coming. Quietly.”

He lets the ANBU escort him from the district, slamming the gates shut behind them. But on the street he doesn’t disappear back to the trees or rooftops, just hovers next to Obito trying to radiate a threatening aura.

“Are you going to walk me home?” Obito asks incredulously.

“Yes.”

Obito rolls his good eye. “Fine,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. If the ANBU wants to walk him home like an errant child, he’ll make sure the trip is as slow, annoying, and excruciating as possible. It’s a gift of his.

He stops to look at the displays in every store front he passes. He insists that he needs to pick up some groceries and ignores the ANBU’s protests as he fills a bag with produce. He pauses to help a grandmother carry her shopping several blocks to her apartment. He pauses again to help a child whose ball is stuck in a tree. He claims that he forgot a key ingredient for the dinner he’s making so he stops at another grocer to pick his way through the noodle selection at the pace of a melting glacier. Wolf’s irritation ticks up by steady degrees until there is practically steam seeping out from behind the mask.

It reminds Obito of Kakashi, so long ago—always uptight and close to imploding, in spite of the calm demeanor he tried to project. Obito could never resist poking at him back then, though usually because of his own temper, and he can’t resist it with this ANBU, either.

So he deliberates between two different types of noodles until Wolf is vibrating with impatience and then ambles up to the register with his head ducked to hide his amusement.

“Enough,” Wolf says when they’ve finally made it back onto the street, after listening to the shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman, recount an extremely detailed story about the trip she recently took to the countryside. “Go home now or—”

“You’ll arrest me?” Obito asks. “For grocery shopping and being nice to civilians?”

Wolf actually sighs, composure in tatters. “Please just go home. I’m at the end of my shift.”

“Oh!” Obito grins at him. “You should have just said! I probably could have been faster with all of that, though I do also need to visit a florist, now that I’m thinking about it.”

Wolf shudders like he’s suppressing a scream and nods with the air of a man being led to a gallows. Obito swallows down a rather undignified cackle and drags the ANBU to the closest market, locating a flower stall to purchase a bouquet for Sakura’s room and lilies for Rin’s grave. Then, he figures that he’s probably tortured Wolf enough for just trying to follow orders and finally returns to the apartment.

“Thanks for the escort, ANBU-san,” he says cheerfully, leaving Wolf outside. He watches through the window as the man flees as soon as the door is closed.

Point: Obito.

“Maa, Obito, what’s with the evil grin?”

Obito turns to where Kakashi is lingering at the end of the short entry hall, leaning against the doorframe into their bedroom. He’s fully dressed, though not in Konoha uniform, and he seems to be the only current occupant of the apartment.

“Oh, just torturing an ANBU a little. Did you know that someone else is Wolf now? It’s weird.”

“You never knew me as Wolf,” Kakashi points out.

“I did for a bit! Right at the end there. You were wearing the mask when—” You killed a dozen of your fellow ANBU to save my life.

Right. Probably better not to bring that up.

Kakashi hums and shrugs. “I’m not surprised they gave the mask away. It’s been long enough. Hatake Kakashi is a traitor, not Wolf.”

“Well, it was still weird.”

“Where were you this morning?” Kakashi asks, shuffling over to relieve Obito of one of the shopping bags. “Besides getting groceries.”

“The Uchiha District,” Obito admits and grimaces at the frown Kakashi levels at him. He’s very good at expressing displeasure with just one eyebrow, it’s impressive.

“Why?” Kakashi asks, an edge to his voice.

“I…” Obito sighs, trying to figure out how to explain his fragments of memory, chasing fraying threads down into the dark. “Something’s hidden there. I think … someone told me about it once. Being back here, I remembered. Or pieces of it. So I went looking.”

Kakashi starts putting away the groceries, leaving Obito bereft by the kitchen table. “And did you find anything?”

“A secret room under the shrine.” A surprised glance from Kakashi. “I didn’t get a look at it, though. Our ANBU friend showed up to forcibly escort me out.”

“Convenient,” Kakashi mutters.

“Right?” Obito shakes his head. “Anyway, it might not be important.”

“But you think it is,” Kakashi says with his usual knowing.

“Maybe? I don’t know, I have a feeling I don’t like.” Obito traces an idle pattern on the surface of the table with his gloved finger. “That there are strings here I’m not seeing. The Uchiha Massacre, the Kyuubi attack, the holes in my memory, Orochimaru—I might be paranoid, but–”

“I feel it too,” Kakashi says, closing the final cupboard and turning to Obito with a troubled expression on his visible face. “It’s a hidden village, Obito. Things are usually connected.”

“Yeah,” Obito agrees grimly. “But we can’t lose sight of why we came here. The kids should be our first priority. And Orochimaru.”

“Agreed,” Kakashi says with a dip of his head. “Immediate threats first, then the past.”

“Speaking of the brats, where are they?”

“Training,” Kakashi huffs. “We all went to visit Sakura but they were too eager to get started so she threw them out.”

Obito laughs at that mental image. “I got her flowers.” He gestures to the bouquet lying on the kitchen table. “I’ll pay her a visit, then go get Naruto.”

“She’ll like that,” Kakashi says. “I promised Sasuke I’d train with him this afternoon.” He glances out the window. “Soon, I’m going to need to figure out how to ditch our ANBU friends so that I can do a little reconnaissance.”

Obito taps the fingers of his flesh hand against the table. “I can probably only provide so much distraction. We may need to rope the kids in.”

He doesn’t like the prospect. If he and Kakashi get arrested for treason (again), he’d rather they have plausible deniability. They can find another jounin sensei and keep training within the village after his and Kakashi’s inevitable execution. While Obito doubts that even Danzō would risk harming the Kyuubi’s jinchuuriki or The Last Uchiha, it would still be better if the council thought the genin of Team 7 were innocent of the crimes of their teachers.

“Maybe,” Kakashi says, clearly suffering from the same doubts. “We have a month. Orochimaru is probably going to lie low until the finals. We can approach cautiously.”

He narrows an eye at Obito as he says this and Obito holds up his hands in protest. “Hey, I am capable of patience. When I have to be.”

“Mm,” Kakashi hums, placating and teasing in equal measure. His eye curves up. “I know.”

“Bakakashi,” Obito mutters. “I’m going to see Sakura.” But he still rounds the kitchen table to briefly press his forehead to Kakashi’s. “Meet me in the graveyard later? I got flowers for Rin too.”

Kakashi’s arm winds around his waist and he noses at Obito’s cheek. “I’ll be there.”

Obito wants to pull down his mask and kiss him—has seen so little of his face since they’ve returned. He resists the urge, paranoid that ANBU might still be watching, and settles for pressing his lips briefly to Kakashi’s covered throat before he steps away.

On his way out the door, he pauses to don his jounin flak jacket and secure his forehead protector. Following a whim, he takes off his usual eyepatch and slants the metal plate over his bad eye like Kakashi always does.

“Very funny,” Kakashi deadpans.

Obito gives him a thumbs up, paired with an obnoxious grin, and heads for the hospital.

_ _

Sakura does like the flowers, murmuring her appreciation for more color in her overwhelmingly white room as Obito adds them to the vase containing a bouquet from Naruto and Sasuke. She’s stubbornly sitting up in bed, remarkably coherent in spite of the painkillers they’re still giving her. Sealing books stack nearly ten high on the table next to the flowers—some that Obito recognizes and some that must be new acquisitions—and when he settles into the chair by her bedside, she sets down a notebook full of diagrams in a mixture of hers and Kakashi’s handwriting.

“Kakashi’s keeping you busy, I see,” Obito remarks.

“Thank the gods,” Sakura grumbles. “I’d go mad otherwise. It’s so boring in here. They could at least hang pictures or something.”

“Come now, Sakura-chan, that would ruin the aesthetic,” Obito teases, leaning back in the chair.

“It’s like a mausoleum,” Sakura says. “I’m not dead yet.”

“How long are you trapped for?”

Sakura grimaces. “Two more weeks at least. I have healing sessions every other day. Unfortunately, they had to reconstruct some bones. Gaara was … thorough.” She says this with remarkable calm, though her gaze turns inward and haunted at the mention of Sabaku no Gaara.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster,” Obito says.

Sakura snaps back to herself. “Please, sensei, don’t blame yourself.. He was going to kill me—Naruto and Sasuke said you stopped him. You did plenty.”

“He was.” The kid is clearly deeply disturbed, but Obito isn’t in the mood to dwell on it any longer. Gaara can become a problem closer to the actual finals. “How goes Kakashi’s homework assignment, then?”

“Well,” Sakura says, picking up on his intentional vagueness. “It’s a lot of studying, and I’m unfamiliar with some of the methods and theories, but I’m making progress. I think I should be able to complete it by the deadline.”

Obito grins at her. “As expected of our best student.”

Sakura rolls her eyes but she looks pleased, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. “What about Naruto?” She changes the subject. “Do you need me to help reverse what Orochimaru did?”

“No,” Obito says. “You shouldn’t use chakra while you’re still trying to heal. Kakashi knows the right seal, we just have to get Sasuke’s help to activate it. And hope ANBU doesn’t take offense.”

A deep frown cuts across Sakura’s face. “They really trust you that little?”

“Once a traitor, always a traitor.” Obito shrugs. He’s never expected true forgiveness from Konoha—has never felt he deserves it. Not after the Kyuubi. Not after Minato.

“Even though you brought us back? Followed all of Sarutobi’s rules?”

Obito sighs, reaching over to take Sakura’s hand. “For hidden villages, loyalty is absolute. You become a shinobi and you serve your village until you die. That is the expectation, the agreement. Any act of betrayal is a permanent one. In this world of shadows and politics, Sakura, there’s no room for absolution.” He shakes his head. “We got lucky in many ways, Kakashi and I. Exile instead of execution. Being allowed to train the three of you. This leash may seem harsh, but it’s generous considering the circumstances.”

Sakura’s frown doesn’t abate. “Yeah, well, I still hate it.”

“That makes two of us.”

“After this,” Sakura murmurs. “I don’t think I want to come back for a long time.”

Kakashi mentioned the argument he overheard between Sakura and her parents. Obito wonders now if Sakura’s desire to run is because of them. Or because of the aforementioned leash. Or maybe both.

He decides not to press her on it. Not when exhaustion is deeping the bend of her shoulders. They’ll hopefully have plenty of time for emotional conversations later, once some of the immediate danger has passed. Kakashi also hinted that Sakura might have something to share with him and Obito has been quietly dying of curiosity ever since.

But he can be patient when he has to be.

“Gods willing, we won’t have to.” He squeezes her hand and stands. “Get some rest. No more studying.”

Sakura opens her mouth to protest and he levels her with a glare. “That’s an order.”

“Yes, sensei,” Sakura huffs, deflating.

Obito leaves her to sleep, exiting out the window. He crouches on the roof in the afternoon sunshine, quickly clocking his ANBU shadow perched in the branches of a tree a few meters away. Not Wolf this time—the faint echoes of chakra Obito can still sense are different. It might be Rat or Hawk. Or someone new, the rotation seems to change completely every couple days. Obito suspects some of them are secretly working for Danzō, but whether or not Sarutobi is aware of that is a mystery.

He salutes the ANBU, just to be obnoxious, and drops back to the road. It’s only then that he realizes he never asked what training ground Sasuke and Naruto are at.

Oh well. He’ll just look for chaos.

_ _

Sure enough, the brats have managed to fell at least two trees and there is a thin layer of smoke permeating the air, accompanied by the lingering static electricity of Chidori that buzzes on Obito’s tongue.

“Oi!” He calls from the edge of the training ground. “Quit ruining the forest!”

Naruto pauses mid swing at Sasuke’s head, a kunai clenched in his hand and three kage bunshin at his back. “Oh! Hey, Obito-sensei!”

Sasuke, naturally, seizes the opening and sends Naruto flying. He makes a dent in the bark of another tree and the clones poof out of existence.

“Bastard,” he growls as he extracts himself.

Sasuke smirks serenely at him. “Don’t let your guard down, baka.” His attention quickly snaps to Obito. “You left early this morning.”

Damn these observant kids. Obito was even trying to be subtle.

“I had an errand to run.”

“Where?”

Obito hesitates, knowing that he’ll look like something of a hypocrite if he tells the truth, and he doesn’t want to drag Sasuke back into the mire of the clan he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. But he also doesn’t want to lie to Sasuke if he can help it. He did too much of that early on and it was a coward’s path, much less than Sasuke deserves.

Well, then. Here goes. “The Uchiha Compound.”

Sasuke’s eyes widen, then sharpen in accusation. “I thought you told me not to pick at wounds.”

“I wasn’t picking at wounds,” Obito insists. “I was looking for secrets.”

“Secrets?” Naruto and Sasuke ask at the same time—Naruto with excitement, Sasuke with suspicion.

“There’s something under the Nakano Shrine,” Obito elaborates. “I … someone told me about it once. A long time ago, I think. But I haven’t gotten a look at it yet.”

To his surprise, recognition dawns on Sasuke’s face. “The room under the seventh tatami mat.”

“Wait, you know about it? How?”

Recognition darkens into memory. “Itachi told me. The night … that night. He said I should seek what was hidden there and grow powerful enough to defeat him.”

“Whoa,” Naruto breathes. “And what was it?”

“A stone tablet,” Sasuke says. “It looked ancient. It was … strange.” His brow furrows. “The writing wasn’t in a language I could read. It seemed like a code of some kind.” The fog lifts and he shrugs. “I never figured out what Itachi wanted me to learn from it.”

Huh. An ancient stone tablet with mysterious writing was not what Obito was anticipating, but very in character for their damned clan. Secrets upon secrets. Also worrying that Itachi knew about it—and what did he mean by using it to grow stronger?

“Interesting.” He massages his temple with a thumb, trying to thwart a forming headache. “I’ll have to go back. See it for myself.”

“Honestly,” Sasuke admits, “you know so much, I just assumed you knew about this too.”

“Aww, how flattering.” Obito smiles at Sasuke’s answering glower. “But, no, plenty is a mystery to me. I got exiled at fourteen and I was pretty much a clan outcast before that. They didn’t tell me a lot of things.”

“But you think this is important?” Sasuke asks in an echo of Kakashi.

“I’m afraid it might be.”

“Man, clans are so complicated,” Naruto says. “Do all of them have hidden rooms and mysterious ancient stuff?”

“Probably,” Obito says with a shrug. “Especially in Konoha. This is one of the oldest hidden villages. Clan bloodlines go back centuries, to before even the village’s founding. Plenty of time to accumulate secrets.”

“If you go back, I’m coming with you,” Sasuke says, a stubborn expression on his face.

Obito never intended to fight him on this, though. “Fine.” At Sasuke’s obvious surprise, he offers a grim smile. “We’re both Uchiha, whether we like it or not. We’re in this together.” He rubs the back of his head, ruffling his already messy hair. “I probably should have mentioned it today but I didn’t want to get you into trouble, especially if nothing was there.”

“Did you get into trouble?” Naruto asks with obvious worry.

“Only a little,” Obito reassures him. He claps his hands together. “Right! Speaking of clans, we have to teach you how to fight a Hyuuga, Naruto. So come on, playtime’s over.”

Twin looks of outrage dig into him. How adorable.

“We weren’t playing—”

“Oi! This was serious training, sensei—”

They both speak at the same time and Obito blissfully ignores them. They’re just too easy to rile up. “Chop, chop. I’ve booked a different training ground for us. Sasuke, Kakashi should be here soon.” He grabs Naruto’s arm, also ignoring his spluttering protests, and waves a cheerful goodbye to Sasuke.

“You’re the worst, sensei,” Naruto grumbles as Obito tugs him down the road, but he isn’t fighting to get loose and he doesn’t sound particularly mad.

“I know,” Obito agrees and gives Naruto a consoling pat on the head. “You’ll just have to train until you can do something about it.”

Naruto sighs.

_ _

Sasuke is relieved when Kakashi materializes only a few minutes after Obito drags Naruto off. He can’t stop thinking about that damned tablet, about Itachi framed in moonlight, derision and ice in his voice as he spoke about power. He remembers tracing shaking fingers over the grooves in the old, smooth stone, furious at his lack of comprehension and otherwise numbed by grief. He put the room with its braziers and murals and secrets out of his mind immediately after. What was the point of chasing power he didn’t even understand?

His nine-year-old self decided it was better to get power another way. Itachi was clearly mocking him, sending him down pointless, winding rabbit trails.

But someone else told Obito about it, probably long before Sasuke was even born, and Sasuke has come to trust Obito’s judgment—if his cousin believes this is important, then it must be. Which would mean Itachi wasn’t trying to distract or confuse him.

Why?

Why spare him? Why push him towards power that could one day be Itachi’s undoing?

None of it makes sense and Sasuke is starting to think that becoming a chuunin was not worth returning to this village.

“Maa, I can hear you brooding.” Kakashi raps him on the head, though gently. “It’s loud.”

“Sorry,” Sasuke says. “Just … clan stuff.”

“I know,” Kakashi says. “What a pair you and Obito make. But enough ghosts for today, you need to fight a jinchuuriki in a month. So focus.”

Sasuke drags his mind into the present, banishing bloodsoaked memories and distracting speculation. “I’m focused. What are we learning today?”

Kakashi tends to be a more methodical teacher than Obito, though just as exacting. He rarely provides straightforward answers beyond basic concepts, preferring to nudge them to consider their own approaches to strategy and problem-solving. Sometimes Sasuke finds it infuriating, but he can’t deny that it’s made him a better shinobi—he’s learned more in the past year than he suspects Ebisu would have taught him in five.

Today, Kakashi strides into the middle of the training field, sunlight glinting off the hitai-ate slanted across his forehead. “You already know chidori and your lightning chakra is going to be key to defeating Gaara. So now, we’re going to make it stronger.”

He tosses Sasuke a familiar tanto—the one he usually carries alongside his katana. Sasuke hasn’t seen him with either since returning to Konoha, which is almost as strange as seeing him in a jounin uniform.

“Sorry,” Kakashi says with an eye smile. “I’m afraid we’re at a bit of a disadvantage here because I can’t demonstrate anything for you. But you’re a genius, right? I think you’ll be able to follow along.”

Sasuke frowns at him. “I’m pretty sure you’re insulting me, sensei.”

But to his surprise Kakashi cocks his head and says, “no, I’m not. We’re similar, you and I. Child prodigies—for better and often for worse. You are a genius, Sasuke, and I’m relying on that intellect to be able to teach you since I’ve been effectively hobbled.” He curls his fingers around the seal on his forearm. “I just don’t want you to think it automatically makes you better. I made that mistake. Many times.”

“Oh,” Sasuke murmurs softly. “I used to think that.” Only a year ago, when he was top of his class at the Academy and convinced that teammates were only going to hold him back. “I don’t anymore.”

He’s accepted that he still has a lot to learn, even when it stings his pride. Slowly, he thinks he’s been transforming his hunger to crave not power or vengeance, but simply strength. He wants to improve so that he can help people the hidden villages ignore. He wants confidence without arrogance—the kind Obito and Kakashi so easily display.

It feels like a healthier goal, even if he’s also trying to accept that he’ll never fully be free of his clan or the past.

“Good,” Kakashi says. “Now, the basic form of Chidori is a large amount of lightning chakra channeled into your hand. What do you think the next level of this kind of jutsu would be?”

Sasuke glances down at the weapon in his hand. “Channeling it into other things. Giving it more range.”

“Bingo,” Kakashi says with a snap of his fingers. “Chidori is highly versatile. I’ve channeled it into weapons and other parts of my body or simply shaped the energy itself into new forms. For example, a technique I’ve been working on is to create senbon out of pure lightning chakra. Another is linking multiple Chidori together.”

The possibilities really do seem endless—the only limit the wielder’s stamina and chakra control.

Sasuke blinks at Kakashi. “How old were you when you came up with this?”

“Your age,” Kakashi says with a shrug that seems far too casual. “Though I couldn’t use it properly until I had Obito’s Sharingan. Without it, you experience acute tunnel vision while attacking a target and it leaves you too vulnerable. I’ve been trying to figure out a version that can be used without a Sharingan but…” he shrugs again. “So far, nothing.”

Still, it’s impressive—Sasuke can’t fathom creating a brand new jutsu, let alone one so powerful. “All right,” he says, unsheathing the tanto. “Where do I start?”

And in typical Kakashi fashion, he gets, “where do you think you should start?”

At least this answer is obvious. “Channeling chakra into the blade.”

A nod of approval. Kakashi steps closer, laying a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

“It’s much harder to channel chakra into an inanimate object. You need excellent control and stability to maintain the right flow of energy. Too much and you’ll injure yourself. Too little and the jutsu won’t be effective. Of course, this applies to shaping chakra in general. But in normal circumstances you have your body to help you. It’s easy to judge energy levels when the jutsu is forming around your hand and you can physically feel that energy.”

He touches the flat of the blade. “Chakra on a weapon requires heightened senses and better attunement. You have to stay connected here.” A tap to Sasuke’s temple. “A little similar to utilizing genjutsu over ninjutsu. Only in this instance, seals won’t help you.”

“Sounds easy,” Sasuke says with cutting sarcasm.

Kakashi laughs softly. “Easy for a genius, right?” At Sasuke’s glare, he gives Sasuke’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Start with just the shape transformation. Try to get your chakra to coat the blade and maintain it. We can add the nature element later.”

“What about the senbon technique? That sounded useful.”

“Maa, maa, one thing at a time, Sasuke,” Kakashi says. “That’s another step up. A big one. For now, we’ll work on the tanto. Then a kunai. Then throwing the kunai at an enemy. And then we can talk about more complicated shape transformations. Deal?”

“Fine,” Sasuke sighs in surrender. “How long did this take you?”

“Comparison is the thief of joy,” Kakashi deadpans. Sasuke glares at him again. “Fine, fine. For chidori itself? A couple months. What you’re learning now?” Kakashi’s eye scrunches up. “A couple weeks.”

A couple weeks. Well, Sasuke is definitely going to surpass that. He nods to himself and sits down in the grass with the sword balanced across his knees and his palm resting gently on the blade. He hears the crunch of Kakashi’s retreating footsteps, then another rustle as he settles himself under the shade of a nearby tree to observe.

Sasuke tunes him out, and the rest of the world along with him. Even the birdsong in the branches and the crackle of leaves being jostled by the summer breeze fade. There is only him and the blade and the chakra that he begins to gather, pushing it towards the tips of his fingers.

Sinking it into unforgiving metal.

_ _

Naruto watches Obito trace a large circle in the dirt of the training field with one foot. “So,” he says as he works, “what do you know about Byakugan?”

“Uhhh,” Naruto wracks his brain, flipping through the fight between Neji and Hinata and then back to his Academy days, trying to recall any specifics lurking in his memory. “I know it’s a dōjutsu. Like the Sharingan. And it’s powerful.”

And that’s pretty much it.

When he fails to provide any further information, Obito finishes his circle and stops in the middle of it, arms over the chest of his flak jacket. “Well, you’re correct on both counts. Next to the Sharingan, it’s considered the most powerful dōjutsu on the continent. They’re alike in certain ways, such as their base ability to perceive chakra. But the Byakugan can see with a lot more detail and accuracy than the Sharingan. It’s able to map the entire chakra network in a person’s body, down to individual tenketsu.”

“Scary,” Naruto says with a shudder and Obito gives him a commiserating grimace.

“Unfortunately for you, it gets worse. Byakugan also grants the user perfect three hundred and sixty degree vision, including the ability to see through walls and even the earth itself.” He points to the circle. “No blind spots.”

“Fuck,” Naruto huffs. “How the hell are you supposed to attack, then?”

“Carefully,” Obito says.

“Not my strong suit, sensei.”

“Eh, as long as you don’t blindly rush in like an idiot, you might stand a chance.”

“Might?”

“The odds are stacked against you, kid, but that’s what I’m here for.” A sharp grin. “Right now, you have one main advantage. What do you think it could be?”

Naruto steps up to the edge of the circle, pondering the question. It can’t be Rasengan, since that requires a direct attack that Neji would see coming, even if Naruto managed to form one fast enough to take him by surprise. He won’t be able to hide or take a sneakier approach like he often does in battle, relying on his shadow clones to—

Wait. “Kage bunshin,” he says, looking up at Obito. “They’re not mirages, they’re real. I can distribute chakra to them. If I do it evenly, Neji won’t be able to tell which one is the real me.”

Obito’s grin settles into a satisfied smirk. “There you go.”

“I would still have to be careful.” Naruto paces the perimeter of the circle. “As soon as a blow connects, he’d be able to tell. So I can’t let him hit me right away, but I also can’t hang back too much or it would be obvious. But if he’s busy trying to fight off a bunch of clones, looking for the real me, it might give me time for something like Rasengan.” Another glance at Obito. “Right?”

“Right,” Obito says. “Though Rasengan is still risky. He’s going to pick up on that level of chakra right away.”

“Argh, why learn cool new jutsu if you can’t show it off!” Naruto kicks a pebble in frustration, watching it bounce across the dirt. He takes a deep breath, calming himself. Focus. Find a path through. There’s always a path through.

“He can shut off my tenketsu, right? That’s what he was doing to Hinata during their match.”

“Yep,” Obito hums. “He cuts off enough of them and you won’t be able to mold chakra, or even move.”

“So getting close to him is risky anyway. Rasengan would probably leave me too open.” He flops to the ground in exasperation and Obito looms over him, blocking his view of the nearly cloudless sky.

“You decrease the risk if you get faster at creating one,” Obito notes. “The faster you are, the better chance you stand at taking him by surprise.” He nudges Naruto in the side with his foot. “We’ll practice your control and improve your speed, so that you’ll be able to create one in seconds.”

“My odds still won’t be great, though, won’t they?” Naruto isn’t one to easily accept defeat, but he’s also learning to be practical going into fights. It helps to know what his chances are and try to plan accordingly, rather than recklessly relying on blind faith and brash overconfidence.

Obito hesitates, then crouches next to Naruto with a sigh. “You do have one more trump card. You’re a jinchuuriki.”

Naruto frowns at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Orochimaru cut you off from the Kyuubi’s chakra, right?”

“Right….”

“But you’re still able to use chakra, so what does that tell you?”

Realization dawns. “My chakra is separate from the Kyuubi’s.”

Obito dips his head. “Exactly. So even if Neji cut off your chakra, if we make sure we remove Orochimaru’s seal, you’d still have access to a different, even more powerful chakra.” A troubled expression steals across his face that Naruto doesn’t like, deepening his scars. “But, Naruto, this should be a last resort.”

“Are you sure I should even use it all?” Naruto asks, feeling uncharacteristic trepidation pooling in his stomach. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Very,” Obito says. “Lose control and it would be—” A haunted gaze. “Catastrophic.”

Naruto shudders, reaching down to press a palm to his stomach. His whole life, people have feared what lives inside of him, the destruction that it’s capable of. To rely on it in any way seems wrong. “Then I won’t. We can figure out something with rasengan…”

“Naruto.” Obito cuts him off, sitting down fully and putting his flesh hand over Naruto’s. “Listen to me. It is something to be wary of, but the Kyuubi is also a part of you. As a jinchuuriki, that fact is undeniable. You should learn to wield this power, to control it. So that someday, it doesn’t control you instead.”

“Could that happen?” Naruto asks with a fresh bloom of terror.

“Yes,” Obito says softly. “Yondaime's seal is a strong one, but it could still happen. So it’s better to start training now. To face this instead of shying away from it.”

Naruto gathers his courage. He trusts Obito and if Obito thinks he’s capable of this, then that’s all the motivation that Naruto needs.

Well, and victory over Neji. That would also be nice.

“Okay, sensei. Let’s do this!” He sits up. “Wait, how do we get Orochimaru’s seal off?”

“Carefully,” Obito says. “Kakashi and I have a plan, don’t worry. For now, let’s focus on Rasengan.”

“Hai!” Naruto salutes, pushing himself to his feet eagerly.

Jiraiya taught him the basics of the jutsu but he hasn’t been able to practice much since. He still has trouble shaping the chakra without the help of a shadow clone.

Obito also stands, all fluid grace. “Okay, brat,” he says, stepping back to give Naruto room. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Naruto grins and moves his hands into a familiar seal. “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

_ _

Kakashi makes it to the graveyard first, as the sun has almost dipped fully beneath the horizon. He had to drag Sasuke home, knowing his idiot student would have trained all night if left to his own devices. In one afternoon, he’s already managed to channel a steady flow of chakra into the tanto for a full minute—exactly the kind of rapid progress Kakashi expected him to make.

(Soon, he suspects he’ll be surpassed at using his own jutsu. He can’t wait to witness it.)

The graveyard is quiet this evening, devoid of other visitors. Kakashi used to spend hours here as a depressed, drowning teenager, staring at either Rin’s grave or Obito’s name etched on the Memorial Stone. Sometimes he would try to talk to them, but mostly his mind was an empty, grief-stricken expanse—a howling wasteland.

It’s strange to crouch in front of Rin’s headstone, to read the characters of her name and experience a familiar stab of grief, but have it subside quickly, washed away on the tide.

“You know,” he says to Rin. “For a long time, I wasn’t sure if I’d actually healed or if I just papered over the wounds. Ran from them until I stopped feeling anything. Then I came back here and I realized that, no, I sewed them closed. They don’t bleed anymore. I hope you’re happy about that.”

He busies himself with removing the dead flowers from the vases on either side of the headstone, needing to keep his hands occupied. He wonders who put them here—if anyone has been to visit since he left over a decade ago.

“I’m still sorry. That I couldn’t find another way, one that didn’t require your sacrifice. Sometimes I’m even sorry that I couldn’t love you like you deserved, though I hope—I know—you don’t blame me for that. You couldn't love Obito the way he wanted you to, either. And we were all so young, weren’t we? I look at the kids now and I see how much the war took from all of us.”

He sighs, crushing the deadened petals so the wind can carry them away. “I wish you could have met the kids. They would have loved you. You would have loved them. You would have been brilliant, at least running the whole hospital by now. But I’m trying not to dwell on alternate futures, on could-have-beens. I’m just grateful to have known you. As brief as it was.”

The crunch of approaching footsteps. He turns to see Obito, clutching flowers.

“Look,” he says triumphantly when he reaches the headstone. “I promised I would.” He nestles the flowers in the vases, then shoots Kakashi a questioning look. “What were you talking about?”

“I was just telling her she would have loved the kids,” Kakashi says and feels a thrum of happiness when Obito’s face immediately brightens.

“Oh! You would have, Rin. They’re brats, but they’re the best. They’re so bright and smart and they’re gonna burn like suns one day. I just hope this peace holds. That war doesn’t steal anything from them, you know? We all grew up too fast. They shouldn’t have to.”

He rises to his feet and takes Kakashi’s hand, threading their fingers together. A heaviness takes him over and he addresses Kakashi as he asks, “do you think she would be disappointed in us?”

“Why?” Kakashi asks, startled.

“Because she died for this village. And we’ve already betrayed it once. And we’re probably going to betray it again.”

“If she’s truly been watching,” Kakashi says. “I think she’d understand. I think she’d even agree with us: that we all deserve to be more than soldiers. That she deserved to be more than a sacrifice.”

The wind picks up, violently stirring the leaves overhead and Kakashi laughs through his mask. “See? She agrees.”

Obito echoes the laugh, wet with unshed tears. “Okay, Rin. Sorry for doubting you.”

“Come on,” Kakashi says softly. “Let’s go home.”

He loves Rin, but he doesn’t think he can stay here much longer or the past will become suffocating. He’d like to believe that she understands that too.

“Yeah,” Obito agrees. “Let’s go home.” He bends down to press a palm over Rin’s name. “See you later, Rin. Miss you always.”

Kakashi bows to her and together, they make their way out of the graveyard.

Obito doesn’t let go of his hand.

Chapter Text

Sakura’s first visitor outside of her team and her family is Yamanaka Ino, hovering awkwardly in the doorway and clutching a bouquet similar to the one Naruto presented her with last week. What is more surprising than the hesitant, vulnerable expression on her face is the blunt slash of her short hair, hanging jagged above her shoulders.

“Hi, Forehead Girl,” she says with a tentative smile.

“Ino,” Sakura replies, pushing herself up in bed, her sealing book immediately forgotten. She was just chasing herself in circles anyway—the margins beginning to resemble the notes of a madwoman. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured those would have died by now.” Ino nods at the withering flowers on Sakura’s bedside table. “So I brought new ones.”

It isn’t the most artful evasion, but Sakura lets her have it. Lets Ino bustle into the room, disposing of the older flowers and carefully arranging the new bouquet in the refreshed vase, all without meeting her eyes.

“You cut your hair,” she finally says when Ino lingers, clearly unsure of what to say next.

“Yeah,” Ino replies, uncharacteristically subdued. “I realized how much of a liability it is in battle, you know? Anyone could grab it.” A laugh, tinged with bitterness. “And Sasuke was never going to look at me, was he?”

“No,” Sakura says. “He’s an idiot.”

Ino glances at her, startled, and then a giggle erupts from her, brightening her face. “He is, isn’t he?”

“All boys are,” Sakura assures her. “It looks good on you.”

Ino finally takes a seat, fiddling with the hem of her orange shirt. Sakura swallows back a comparison to Naruto that would probably be too biting. Looking back on their rivalry, it all seems so stupid now. Insecure girls chasing superiority in all the wrong places, letting crushes and childish concerns drive them apart. She remembers when Ino felt as tall as a mountain, her protector from a harsh world—loud and bold when she couldn’t be—and how cruel the shift to rival seemed.

“Thank you,” Ino says now, sounding sincere but still off-balance. After a heavy pause she blurts, “you’ve changed so much, Forehead Girl.”

“I know,” Sakura says because there is no point in denying it. She barely recognizes the girl she was in the Academy, the girl who giggled behind her hands at every turn of Sasuke’s head, who agonized about her hair and her clothes and lost sight of her own dreams.

“And I,” Ino says with more of that bitterness, “haven’t changed at all.”

Ah. Sakura suddenly understands the reason for Ino’s visit, for her sudden lack of confidence. It is hard, she knows, to feel like someone has moved on without you, like someone you thought you knew has slipped through your fingers. She’s struggled with it in regards to Naruto and Sasuke—how small they can make her feel sometimes with their insane chakra reserves and their kekkei genkai and just how powerful she knows they’re going to become.

“I doubt that’s true,” she tries to reassure Ino now. “Everyone changes, Ino. It’s inevitable.”

Ino shakes her head, frustration creasing her face now. “No, I haven’t taken any of this seriously. I’ve spent the past year playing at being a kunoichi while you—” She trails off with an angry noise, glancing away.

“So stop playing,” Sakura says, deciding to call upon some of her team’s usual bluntness. At Ino’s slightly offended look, she shrugs. “We have years ahead of us, don’t we? Plenty of time to get stronger. Just because we’ve agreed that chasing after Sasuke is stupid doesn’t mean we’ve stopped being rivals, Ino-pig.”

Ino absorbs this, a smile slowly spreading, pulling her mouth up at the corners until she’s grinning. “Right,” she declares. “You’re ahead now, but you’re not going to stay that way, Forehead Girl.”

Good, Sakura thinks. Ino understands, and there is old, long-lost warmth in Ino’s gaze now, the tentative bloom of a mending friendship. It pulls a frayed string in Sakura’s chest, a gentle ache spreading through her ribs.

“I guess we’ll see,” she says with a smirk of her own.

Ino stays in her chair, adopting a more relaxed sprawl. “So what’s it been like?” she asks with genuine curiosity. “Roaming the continent.”

Sakura groans. “Not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. My hair is easier to take care of now, but do you know how hard it is to get decent shampoo when you’re in the wilderness half the time? And the rest of the team doesn’t care, they’ll just dunk their heads in a river and call it done.”

Ino shakes her head. “Men.”

Sakura gathers steam, a dam unlocking as she finally gets a chance to vent to another girl. “Half the time, they don’t even believe in sleeping rolls. They’ll just pass out anywhere! And don’t get me started on half of their attempts to cook. Just burning something to crisp with a fireball jutsu does not count as roasting it. The concept of privacy is also completely gone. The amount of times I’ve had to punch Naruto or Sasuke because they just marched up as I was changing and wanted to talk to me.”

Ino is laughing openly now, shoulders shaking. “Okay, that sounds horrible. I’m no longer jealous of you.”

“Don’t be,” Sakura says darkly, even though she wouldn’t trade her team or her nomadic life for the world.

Ino sobers, glancing at Sakura’s encased leg. “You were incredible out there, you know,” she admits, a stubborn jut to her chin, like she’s daring Sakura to tease her for the sincerity. “But those last moments—I thought we were going to watch you die.”

“I thought that too,” Sakura confesses. “I think I’m lucky that I didn’t.”

“The shinobi world really is full of monsters, isn’t it?” Ino murmurs, staring out the window. “I’m beginning to realize that. I always knew that I would become a part of it because of my clan, my heritage, but it’s easy to feel big in this village, where people understand what the name Yamanaka means. I’m realizing there is so much beyond me, so much I can’t even begin to understand.”

Sakura actually dares to reach out and touch Ino’s arm. “That’s why we get stronger,” she reminds her. “That’s why I’m going to grit my teeth and get back up again. And again and again. I’ll learn how to fight monsters because someone has to, right? We can’t let them win.”

Ino’s hands curl into fists against her thighs. “No,” she whispers. “We can’t.” When she looks back up, her gaze burns, all blue fire. “Sakura, I don’t know if you’ll stay. But while you’re here … could you give me a few pointers, maybe?”

And Sakura instantly sees how hard this is for Ino—face red, choking on her own pride. She punches Ino gently in the shoulder, determined not to make a big deal out of any of this.

“Sure,” she says. “Us kunoichi have to stick together.”

“Right,” Ino says with a jerk of her head and stands, looking ready to flee. She pauses in the doorway. “I’ll be back. To change the flowers.”

And then she’s gone, leaving Sakura to slump back against her mattress, hand over her still aching chest.

Maybe there are still some good things left in Konoha after all.

_ _

Kakashi hardly recognizes himself in the mirror. He’s spent the last several hours painstakingly dying his hair light brown and taming into a slightly less messy style. A wig would have been easier, but he doesn’t want the risk of it coming off at an inopportune moment. To hide his distinctive facial scar, he’s secured strips of paint over his eyes and down his cheeks that can easily pass for clan marks—purple in a quiet homage to Rin and because he knows there are at least a few Nohara left in Konoha, even one or two shinobi.

The last week has been dedicated to reconnaissance, taking note of different ANBU shifts, of hairstyles behind the masks, of conversations hinting at leaves of absence or changes in rotation. He’s confident enough that he can time his break-in to steal a spare uniform of an off-duty ANBU and use it for additional cover. If anyone questions him, an easy excuse is that he’s been called back unexpectedly. There are no true breaks in ANBU, he doubts that has changed in the last thirteen years.

His marred ANBU tattoo presents a bit of a problem, but he carefully reconstructs a new one using the same technique as his face paint and settles it over the scarred skin of his upper arm. After testing it under several different lights, he determines that it should pass muster. Hopefully, no one will be looking too closely at him, anyway—even though they often work in squads, ANBU tend to keep to themselves.

The real challenge is going to be finding ROOT’s headquarters and then navigating them undetected. He suspects that Danzo’s trained operatives are going to be a lot more suspicious and a lot more likely to attack first and ask no questions if they think there is an intruder in their midst. Still, it can’t be harder than that time he went undercover in a daimyo’s court when he was nineteen, trying to find the noble who was blackmailing the lord. That was a torturous, three-month operation that tested the limits of both his deception skills and his patience.

He’s inserting gray contacts to lighten his eyes when Obito appears in the doorway with a low whistle. “Wow, Bakakashi, I barely recognize you.”

“That is the point,” Kakashi says dryly, stepping back to take in the full disguise. It’ll be dark soon, and time to commence with perhaps one of the more foolhardy ideas he’s ever had. He’s going to blame Obito’s influence. “Is everything ready?”

“Yep,” Obito says. “Naruto’s on board, though I haven’t given him all the details, and Sasuke will play along.” He grins, sharp. “We’ll treat it like a mission.”

“Good,” Kakashi says. If this goes south, the kids at least will be able to maintain plausible deniability.

He slips on his baggy coat and scarf, meant to help him further blend in, and takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says with the air of someone ready to face a firing squad, ignoring the amusement Obito is radiating. “Let’s get the worst part over with.”

And then he marches into the living room.

Two heads swivel in his direction, accompanied by two expected shrieks of shock—even from Sasuke.

“KAKASHI-SENSEI,” Naruto hollers, actually standing up on the sofa. “Is that your real face?”

“No, Naruto,” Kakashi deadpans. “I’m wearing a mask.”

Sasuke snorts, though his eyes are still very wide. “You look perfectly normal, why have you been hiding from us this whole time?”

Kakashi pinches the bridge of his nose while Obito cackles behind him.

“Old habits,” he sighs. “And it was fun. But here,” he waves a hand. “Mystery over. I do indeed have a human face.”

“I can’t believe you’re just showing it to us!” Naruto shouts.

“It feels cheap,” Sasuke agrees solemnly.

“Maa, there’s no winning with you brats, is there?” Kakashi asks, arching an eyebrow.

They blink at him.

“Wow it is so weird to see you have facial expressions, Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto says while Sasuke nods in agreement and Obito continues giggling quietly in the background, unaware of his impending death at Kakashi’s hands.

“I don’t like it,” Sasuke adds with a frown..

Kakashi decides that’s enough teasing and claps his hands together. “Alright, you can continue to react to this apparently incredible revelation later. Obito has briefed you, yes?”

To their credit, both of them straighten, adopting a more serious air as they nod.

“Good,” Kakashi continues, checking to make sure all the curtains and shutters of their little apartment are tightly closed. Fortunately, ANBU doesn’t care what they do while they’re inside, content to only pay close attention when one of them leaves. “Go ahead, then, Nartuo.”

Naruto hops off the couch and crosses his fingers in a familiar sign. A shadow clone appears beside him, which he then henges into Kakashi—even adopting the casual clothing Kakashi prefers when not in uniform.

“You’re getting a lot better at that,” Kakashi observes mildly and Naruto beams at him.

“Can’t believe Sakura is missing this,” Sasuke mutters under his breath and Kakashi valiantly ignores him, turning his attention to Obito.

“And you?”

“Please,” Obito flicks his hand, grin turning feral at the edges. “I was born for this.”

He throws a wink at the kids before slipping out the door, closing it firmly behind him. A few seconds later, Kakashi hears a loud, obnoxious “Oi! ANBU-san!” and senses the faint chakra signature move to a tree at the front of the complex.

That’s his cue.

“Behave,” he tells his terrible students, who are still mostly absorbed with staring at his face, “I’ll be back soon.”

He hopes.

He exits out one of the back windows, sliding carefully down the side of the building. It’s a new moon, meaning that it’s easy to slip into the shadows, avoiding the pools of lamplight as he moves down the street with his head bent and shoulders hunched. Obito is pestering the on-duty ANBU about random shift rotations with the full force of his bluster, clearly aiming for maximum annoyance, and Kakashi wishes the poor soul luck, then sends up a quiet prayer for himself to whoever might happen to be listening.

He has a feeling he’s going to need it.

_ _

Sasuke was expecting a quiet night in, even offered to cook because he’s way better at it than Obito and Naruto declared that he was too tired before flopping stubbornly on the couch like a dead fish. He made stew, ignoring the shadow clone disguised as Kakashi quietly reading a scroll at the kitchen table because it’s weirdly off-putting, and trying to figure out how to break the news to Sakura that she missed the Epic Kakashi-sensei Face Reveal without getting his head taken off.

She has such a tendency to shoot the messenger.

They got through dinner uneventfully, got through a squabble over dishes that ended with Naruto grudgingly scrubbing the stack, even got through several attempts to distract Obito from his clear worry about Kakashi while struggling to ignore their own. Sasuke was in his pajamas, midway through brushing his teeth when Naruto froze and whispered, “something’s wrong.”

And now there is a foreign shinobi in their apartment who apparently wants to kidnap him. It’s so undignified, Sasuke thinks, to have a blade pressed to your throat while you still have toothpaste residue stuck to your mouth.

“You,” Naruto exclaims as light falls across the would-be kidnapper, recognition dawning on his face. “Sakura was right, there was something off about you.”

Sasuke still hasn’t gotten a good look at the guy but he recognizes the laugh and then the voice as the shinobi says, “an astute observation, Naruto-kun.”

The silver-haired genin from the exams—the one with the advanced set of intel cards, the one who casually forfeited in the preliminaries, who called himself Kabuto. Before he can speak, try to fight back, Sasuke feels a sharp prick of pain on the opposite side of his neck from Kabuto’s curved knife, a needle jabbing beneath the skin. Numbness floods his body, weighing down his limbs like lead, and Naruto lets out a low snarl of protest.

“Think carefully, Naruto-kun,” Kabuto says, dragging Sasuke back a step, closer to the bedroom window he apparently broke open to get inside. Sasuke silently seethes, barely able to do more than twitch his fingers. “Are you faster than me? Can you reach me before I slice his throat open?”

“I can,” Obito says, appearing behind Naruto in a blink, so fast and silent that Sasuke didn’t even sense him approaching.

He can hear the infuriating smirk in Kabuto’s voice as he says, “are you sure, Uchiha-san? You’re currently cut off from your chakra, right?”

Obito’s answering smile is a blade. “Brat,” he says—voice a low rumble of warning, a gathering storm. “I don’t need chakra to kill you.”

The knife presses in, another flare of pain, warm blood trickling down his neck, and Obito moves. Another blink and he’s across the room, slamming Kabuto into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. Sasuke sways in the sudden emptiness, pitching forward when his unsteady legs are unable to support his weight. Fortunately, Naruto saves him from an embarrassing meeting with the floor, rushing over to wrap a supporting arm around his waist, pulling Sasuke against his side.

“I’ve got you, Sasuke,” he says, face pinched with uncharacteristic worry.

Meanwhile, Obito stabs Kabuto’s own blade through his shoulder, making him gasp in pain, and curls gloved fingers around Kabuto’s neck.

“Now tell me,” he says, almost conversationally. “Before I snap your neck—are you working for Orochimaru?”

Kabuto laughs, a low amused chuckle. “I’m sorry, Uchiha-san,” he says, also with the air of someone commenting on the weather. “It isn’t going to be that easy.”

He forms a seal that Sasuke doesn’t recognize and goes limp in Obito’s grip. Outside the open window, the ANBU who had been on duty rises from the bushes and gives them an arrogant salute before bounding away across the rooftops, disappearing into the night.

“Kuso,” Obito spits in annoyance, dropping Kabuto’s body to the ground and bending to check his pulse.

“What just happened?” Naruto asks in alarm as Obito shakes his head.

“Shikon,” he mutters, brow furrowed, deepening his facial scars.

Naruto’s fingers dig into Sasuke’s side hard enough to hurt and that’s when Sasuke realizes just how rattled Naruto is by this whole ordeal.

“Obito-sensei,” Naruto says, almost pleading, and Obito’s expression softens when he glances up at them.

“Are you okay, Sasuke?” he asks.

Sasuke manages to dip his head. “I just can’t really feel my limbs. Or move much.”

“Paralyzing agent,” Obito says, coming over to touch careful fingers to his neck. “It should wear off in a few hours.”

“Great,” Sasuke replies, exasperated, and Naruto squeezes him in sympathy.

Obito turns his attention to Naruto. “As for what happened, it’s a technique called Shikon no Jutsu.”

Dead Soul, ominous.

“First, the user performs surgery to make a corpse’s heart beat again,” Obito explains. “Then they can use their chakra to control it, making it seem alive. Kabuto must have killed the ANBU outside, changed the body to look like him, then sent it inside to take Sasuke. When he realized the plan failed, he released the jutsu and fled.”

“Creepy,” Naruto mutters.

“It’s advanced medical ninjutsu,” Obito says. “Very advanced.” He frowns at them again. “You recognized him?”

“Yeah, he was posing as a genin in the exams,” Naruto says. “He seemed weird, though. Had all this crazy knowledge and then just forfeited in the preliminaries." His face darkens. “Guess we know why now.”

“And that Orochimaru got impatient. Or anxious that Sasuke wouldn’t actually come to him willingly.”

“I’d like to sit down,” Sasuke mumbles.

It’s awful, Naruto doesn’t even tease him for it, just shuffles them out into the living room and sinks onto the couch. He also doesn’t seem inclined to let go any time soon, attached to Sasuke like a barnacle, so Sasuke decides to shove aside his lingering embarrassment and let his heavy head tip onto Naruto’s shoulder while Obito checks all the doors and windows, then slips away to deal with the corpse in the bedroom, still clearly on high alert. The Kakashi shadow clone has disappeared, but that feels like the last of their worries at the moment.

“Sorry,” Naruto murmurs, heavy with guilt, cheek resting like an anchoring weight on top of Sasuke’s head. “I froze up.”

“Dobe,” Sasuke says without opening his eyes, chest oddly tight. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He’s the one who should have noticed someone entering the room, lunging for him with a knife, no matter how fast Kabuto was. He’s come to think of this little apartment as home, and he let down his guard as a result—a mistake he’s not going to make again.

“I think we’re safe for now,” Obito announces, returning to the living room. “Doesn’t seem like he had backup.”

“Okay, so Orochimaru got impatient,” Naruto says, spitting the Sannin’s name like a curse. “Does that mean he’s gonna keep trying?”

“No.” Obito crouches in front of them. “One of his subordinates was potentially exposed. And failed to bring Sasuke in. So I think he really will just lie low now until the end of the exams and whatever he has planned for that.”

His gaze moves between the two of them. “I know this is hard,” he says, gentle now. “I know this is scary. But I swear, I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

“You were pretty badass, sensei,” Naruto says, sounding like he’s regaining some of his usual bluster. “Are we going to tell Hokage-jii about Kabuto?”

“Probably,” Obito says, the agreement mostly a sigh. “I’m sure they’re going to up security and come grill us since an ANBU got killed tonight. Best to keep our heads down and play along. They won’t want to lose Sasuke, either, so that works in our favor.”

“More ANBU?” Naruto huffs. “Great.”

Sasuke grunts, still resting on Naruto’s shoulder. He would almost be flattered that Orochimaru is this interested in him and his apparent potential, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s sure all Orochimaru cares about are his eyes and someday cutting them right out of his head. Maybe he should do that first, actually—shock the whole shinobi world and get everyone to leave him alone. He could learn to fight blind, he’s sure of it.

“We just have to endure it for a couple more weeks,” Obito is telling Naruto. “Then we can get out of Konoha again, get back to normal.”

Sasuke really wishes that Obito sounded more certain about that.

_ _

ANBU headquarters is quiet. So many foreign shinobi within the village walls, including an elusive Legendary Sannin, means that more squads are on duty than usual, and it allows Kakashi to slip inside unnoticed. The layout of this new building is different from the one of his youth, but the locker room looks so similar with its stone floor and rows of brown wooden compartments that he has to pause for a precious moment to breathe—head bent and palm pressed carefully to the scars on his arm that ache with familiar phantom pain. He drifts to the locker that sits in the same position as his old one, near the far end of the room, and opens it, swallowing back a laugh when he finds a uniform inside.

It looks like it will fit him and it belongs to an ANBU he’s seen on duty, Frog, so he knows that their hair color is similar, as are their heights and builds. Still, it is a strange experience actually putting the uniform on. His body moves on autopilot to fasten all the straps, slide the black gloves and bracers over his arms, secure the kunai pouch on his leg. He cradles the mask in his palms, staring down at the white porcelain, the red paint like blood creating curved eyes and whirlpool cheeks—an almost innocent design for a black ops operative.

Once upon a time, he thought he would die in a mask like this, not even his name on a grave or a memorial stone. He was ready for it: that erasure, that ignoble, bloody ending. Let it wash away some of his sins, his failures, let it shrive clean the guilt, the shame, the grief, let Hatake Kakashi become nothing at all, a discarded tool of the village who formed him.

You lived, Hatake, he reminds himself. He got even more blood on his hands but he lived, and when he puts on the mask now he breathes through the weight of it, the fading claws of the past hooked into his lungs.

Focus.

His only concrete plan for finding ROOT is to physically scope the area, trusting his instincts as a tracker that he’ll know the entrance when he sees it. He suspects that it won’t be within ANBU headquarters itself—someone as paranoid as Shimura Danzo wouldn’t want to give another organization the opportunity to observe the movements of his own. No, it will be outside, concealed somewhere on the grounds of the Monument.

He relaxes his shoulders, keeping his posture casual as he ambles back towards the front entrance, just another ANBU on his way out to his post. He passes two others returning, Rat and Bird, but both nod to him without further greeting or comment, clearly tired and ready to be off duty. He dips his head at them in response, respecting their exhaustion, and once outside, slips away into the trees. The round roofs of a cluster of administrative buildings rise to his left, a place where the Hokage can meet with foreign dignitaries and impress them with the sprawl of the village below.

Kakashi heads in the opposite direction, towards where the forest thickens, pushing up against the village walls. This would be so much easier if he had the chakra to summon Pakkun, but even with his senses so dulled, he can still pick up faint, lingering traces of other signatures. He follows the trail of them to a large storm drain built into the thick outer wall and almost entirely concealed by tangles of vines and overgrowth. Upon closer inspection, he sees that the barred gate is actually a door, sealed with a heavy padlock. Likely, the easiest way to unlock it is with chakra and it’s probably warded against foreign signatures, but here lies the weakness of most hidden villages.

They only account for other shinobi.

Therefore, the lock has no protection against someone physically picking it, which is exactly what Kakashi does. It takes him longer than he would like, using the set of tools he tucked into his empty kunai pouch to carefully manipulate the complicated mechanism, but eventually it opens with a faint, almost triumphant click.

Ha.

He closes the gate softly behind him and ventures down the dark tunnel, hugging the stone walls. As he expected, it doesn’t continue to the other side of the wall but curves downward, into the mountain. It’s a narrow, winding path only illuminated by the occasional lantern hung from the jagged rock, and the air sits cloying in his chest, thick with the smell of damp and dirt and fungal growth.

He creeps along in the dark, down, down, down until the tunnel opens to a large antechamber that extends dozens of meters above him and dozens of meters below. Its walls have been sanded smooth and reinforced with concrete, and a cross-shaped wooden bridge has been constructed over the chasm, leading to four separate, large doors. The red railings look almost gaudy against the muted metal and stone of the rest of the space.

Kakashi holds back a snort. Leave it to Danzo to have a headquarters right out of a bad adventure novel.

None of the doors are labeled, naturally, so Kakashi is going to have to gamble, and though he can’t sense anyone nearby, he’s nervous about venturing into such an open space for any prolonged period of time. He was trying to construct a mental map in his head during his descent, tracing the path from the wall back into the mountain, and he suspects that they’re somewhere beneath the administrative buildings now. The southern door will likely take him towards the Monument’s faces, maybe other exits, probably less secure. The northern door will lead back towards the wall and the borders of the village. The western and eastern doors will run parallel along the mountain—much more space. If Danzo modeled this after ANBU at all, the less secure paths will hold quarters for operatives, training rooms, equipment storage, etc. The more secure paths will hide the secrets: records, Danzo’s office, any other creepy things like labs or sealing rooms or a dungeon if Danzo is inclined to keep prisoners separate from those that Konoha officially arrests.

So, east or west. Flip a coin.

He considers what he knows of Shimura Danzo—the man’s paranoia but also his ego, his pride, the position he seems himself holding as this village’s true protector and guiding hand. East, he decides, towards the rising sun.

He leaps from the opening onto the bridge below and darts for his chosen door, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when he finds it unlocked. The corridor on the other side is formed of the same concrete and, as Kakashi suspected, continues a gradual downward slope. The electric lamps buzz a low harmony, casting pools of light on various doors and other, smaller hallways snaking off from the main path like serpentine tributaries of a river delta.

Keep going down, Kakashi’s instincts tell him.

He listens as he moves, every sense extended, and the silence here is loud, heavy. It feels too peaceful, feels as though he’s slipping into the maw of a sleeping predator, ready to wake and snap its jaws closed at any second.

Still, he encounters no one, even as he passes an abandoned lab full of shattered tanks that he refuses to look at for too long, though his brain notes they’re a perfect size and shape to hold the bodies of children. He finds a sealing room with old bloodstains on the floor, echoes of pain seething from the walls. Finds an old operating room with bent metal tables and dulled scalpels and yet more blood, so much blood.

And then at last, he finds the records room. This door is closed with a seal that is going to be a pain to remove without chakra, but he still thinks that it will be less heavily fortified than Danzo’s actual office. He traces the pattern of the seal, searching for places he can interrupt it. It’s a standard lock, once again designed to open with a flare of the right chakra, but if he cuts through the outer lines of the design he should theoretically be able to render it inert without triggering any security measures it might have.

For this, he uses a senbon needle to carefully, carefully create gaps in the black ink. He’s lucky, in some ways: the fact that he’s cut off from his own chakra works in his favor, preventing him from accidentally triggering the seal, and the seal itself can only be compromised like this because it’s such a simple design. Anything more complex and he would have had to give up and continue his search elsewhere, but he was banking again on shinobi arrogance, ANBU arrogance. If anyone has made it this far undetected, then they must belong, and old tricks like this for getting around seals and locks are dying knowledge.

Why rely on them when almost all problems can be solved with the correct application of chakra?

He can feel the barrier across the doors dissipating after he makes his final cut, and he slowly peels the seal from the wood, then shoulders his way inside, clicking on his flashlight.

This room is dark and lined with shelves mostly containing metal boxes, some with extra security on them. He has no idea what he’s looking for—any scrap of evidence he can wield, any glimmer of connection to Orochimaru, either past or present, any bit of information that might give him a glimpse into Danzo’s machinations and future plans for Konoha, for his students.

Unfortunately, in this room, his luck finally runs out.

He’s unlatching his first box when the door creaks open behind him and someone slips through. He freezes, prepared to attempt to at least lie his way out of this, but a voice says, “Kakashi-senpai,” and all his scrambling plans fall out of his head.

He whirls around and his flashlight beam illuminates a man of similar height to him, shoulders a little broader, unruly hair a darker shade of brown. He removes his tiger mask, revealing the sharp planes of a pale face that Kakashi does not recognize. The eyes, though, the eyes are familair—the same fathomless black that once peered out of a child’s face, a child he tried to help briefly before his exile, a child who wasn’t a child because their world had no room for children, only tools, only weapons.

And they were both such very good weapons.

“Tenzo,” he breathes in amazement.

“Kakashi-senpai,” Tenzo says again, voice low and urgent. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“How did you recognize me?” Kakashi asks, puzzled, and Tenzo frowns at him.

“It might be faint, senpai,” he says, “but I’d know your chakra signature anywhere.”

Even after nearly fourteen years. Kakashi isn’t sure whether to weep or scream because while he is honored that his traumatized, fraying teenage self managed to make such a lasting impression on Tenzo, this is definitely inconvenient for his reconnaissance.

Tenzo takes a step closer, though his hand is nowhere near his weapons. Not that he would need them, Kakashi reminds himself, considering his wood release. Still, his expression remains more pleading than threatening.

“You need to get out of here,” he whispers, a note of desperation creeping into his calm voice. “It was stupid of you to come.”

“I had to,” Kakashi argues. “I need to know—”

“It doesn’t matter, senpai,” Tenzo interrupts him. “If Danzo finds out that you’re here—”

“Yes,” a new voice adds from their left. “That would certainly be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

_ _

Sakura’s second visitor is Sabaku no Gaara, rendered in silhouette beside her bed as his sand curls over her body, prepared to crush her. His eyes seem to glow in the dark of this moonless night, tinged a demonic red, and Sakura chokes on her own fear, trying to shove it down to the recesses of her mind.

“What are you doing?” she exclaims, though she doesn’t try to sit up, worried that Gaara will interpret that as a move to attack.

“Killing you,” Gaara says simply, voice a rasp far too old and deep for his small body.

“Why?” Sakura blurts, then almost wants to laugh at herself.

But Gaara answers her. “Because I want to. Because you’re weak.”

Yet she managed to land a blow on him, managed to draw a few drops of blood, and for that slight, she suspects, she must pay.

“What if I told you that I could help you?” she asks as the sand writhes across the blankets like snakes.

Gaara makes a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “There is nothing you can help me with.”

“What about the voice in your head?” The sand pauses, Gaara’s pale eyes widen a fraction, and Sakura pushes forward. “The one that’s tormenting you, right? That always demands blood, violence, that threatens to control you.”

“How,” Gaara snarls, leaning closer. “How do you know about that?”

“I know where it’s coming from,” Sakura says. “And I can make it go away.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Gaara counters and raises a threatening hand.

“I know someone like you,” Sakura elaborates, managing to keep her voice from wobbling. “With a monster sealed inside of him, but it doesn’t affect him like it does you. I suspect it has to do with the seal keeping the Ichibi locked away, and I can fix it. I can make it so that he won’t be able to control you, so you won’t hear him anymore.”

She’s blindsided Gaara again, she can tell. He stares at her, suddenly looking like a lost child, “there’s … another person like me?”

“Yes,” Sakura promises. “My teammate.”

Gaara absorbs this, then his gaze hardens again. “You make big claims, kunoichi.”

“I can do it,” Sakura says, finally pushing herself on her elbows to meet his eyes without flinching.

“You could be lying,” Gaara wavers.

“If you kill me now, you’ll never know.”

She’s won, she can tell. The sand slowly retreats, withdrawing back into the gourd still strapped to Gaara’s back.

“You have until the end of the exams,” he declares, crossing his arms over his skinny chest. “Make the voice go away or I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Sakura says and Gaara vanishes as silently as he arrived, leaving her to slump back onto the bed and place shaking hands over his face, swallowing the scream lingering at the back of her throat.

_ _

Kakashi turns to face Shimura Danzo, refusing to let any of the fear suddenly seizing his heart telegraph in his body. Instead, he stubbornly relaxes his shoulders and shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants, adopting his normal, casual slouch.

Danzo stands in front of a different entrance that Kakashi was keeping a vague eye on until Tenzo arrived, dressed in his usual black robes pulled up to conceal his right arm, bandages similarly covering the right side of his weathered face. He regards Kakashi calmly, but Kakashi can feel the hot undercurrent of his anger.

He is furious at both Kakashi’s impudence and the fact that he made it all the way to the records room before someone stopped him.

“Hatake,” he says, “this is foolish, even for you. What were you possibly hoping to accomplish?”

Kakashi is sick of cloaks and daggers. If Danzo is going to kill him tonight, he might as well go for the throat. So he raises his chin and says, “I was looking for evidence. Because I think you’re working with Orochimaru, Danzo.”

Beside him, Tenzo stiffens but Danzo’s expression remains placid, betraying no reaction. “That is a serious accusation,” he observes. “Did you find the proof that you were hoping for?”

No. And Danzo knows it.

When Kakashi remains silent, Danzo laughs, shaking his head. “You should tread more carefully, Hatake. Sarutobi’s benevolence will only offer you so much protection.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Kakashi asks, tone mild.

“As much as I think you and your idiot partner should have been executed for treason years ago, no. I don’t want to cause a diplomatic incident in the middle of the Exams. So count yourself lucky. This is your only warning. Get back in line where you belong.”

Kakashi cocks his head. “I’m not sure I’m the only one committing treason, Danzo.”

Now, Danzo’s face darkens. “Everything I do,” he rumbles, “I do for the good of Konoha.”

“Right,” Kakashi drawls, “I’m sure you believe that. Pulling your levers in the shadows.”

Danzo’s knuckles bleach white against the handle of his cane. “Sarutobi is a hopeless optimist,” he says. “And it is my work that allows him to stay that way. You of all people should understand how the world moves, Hatake.”

“Of course I do,” Kakashi straightens. “You turn people into tools, grind them against a whetstone until they’re nice, sharp weapons and fling them at the world over and over until they’re spent. And you tell yourself that it’s justified because of the ‘good’ that only you get to define. The continent is full of men like you, Danzo. So much good, so many sacrifices.”

“Hate me if you like, Hatake,” Danzo says, anger smothered again. “If that makes you feel righteous. But know when you’re outnumbered. You can throw yourself against Konoha and it will crush you. Is that what you want? To throw yourself away for nothing? To prove a point?” He takes a step forward, cane tapping loudly against the stone floor. “Exile or not, you are still a tool. A tiny cog in a vast machine. That is all you will ever be, and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for us all.”

Kakashi wants to keep arguing, but Danzo is right. He’s outnumbered, outmaneuvered. This was a pathetic attempt to gain some agency, with all the effectiveness of trying to use tiny pebbles to redirect the flow of a river.

So Kakashi swallows his pride and inclines his head. “Nice talking to you, Danzo.”

“Kinoe,” Danzo says, turning his attention to Tenzo. “Escort him off the premises, please. And let everyone know that if he’s spotted again, there is a kill on sight order in effect.”

Tenzo bows in compliance and Danzo shuffles away, accompanied by the grating tap, tap, tap of his cane and an aura of general smugness that Kakashi wants to rip apart with his teeth. Tenzo touches a tentative, staying hand to his shoulder.

“Come on, senpai.”

It’s a much faster journey back to the surface and as they emerge into the trees atop the Monument, Kakashi sees that the sky is soft with the first flush of dawn. Tenzo lingers near the entrance, mask still clutched in his hand.

“Senpai,” he says without any actual accusation in his voice, “have you gone mad?”

Kakashi snorts, finally removing his frog mask and noting Tenzo startle at the sight of his face. “Maybe,” he concedes with a sigh. “Or maybe I’m finally sane.” He glances at Tenzo with a sad smile. “I said it fourteen years ago, but I actually believe it now, Tenzo. We should be more than this, no matter what Danzo or the Hokage, or anyone says. We deserve more than this.”

Tenzo answers with a smile of his own, tinged by the same sadness. “You know I don’t agree with you on that, Kakashi-senpai. Still,” he inclines his head. “It was good to see you. You’ve grown up well.”

“So have you,” Kakashi says and grasps Tenzo’s shoulder. “Please,” he entreats. “Take care of yourself.”

He knows that Tenzo won’t. That Tenzo has never known anything beyond service to Konoha, that he might not even be able to comprehend a different life. Kakashi couldn’t until he was forced into one, and yet a stubborn part of him still loves this village in spite of the blood, the dirt, the scars. It is a dying love, but the embers flicker between his ribs.

“You too,” Tenzo says. “Please be careful.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “I can make no promises, I’m afraid.”

“I know,” Tenzo says and disappears back inside, swallowed by shadows.

Kakashi runs a frustrated hand through his dyed hair and goes to return his stolen uniform, hoping that Frog won’t notice it’s been worn when he shows up for duty this morning. Danzo at least won’t rat him out to Sandaime because that would be acknowledging ROOT and Kakashi suspects that neither man likes to do that. It would also mean admitting that Kakashi still saw things he shouldn’t have, that there are secrets Danzo is keeping even from his Hokage, all of them dark and terrible.

How much does Sarutobi know, Kakashi wonders. How much does he willfully blind himself to?

He doesn’t care, he decides. It’s not his problem. He failed, yes, but he’s still alive so he’ll count that as something and go home with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Obito is waiting on the roof when he arrives, radiating a tension that Kakashi immediately knows isn’t just from worry about his well-being.

“What happened?” he asks when Obito jumps down to greet him.

Instead of answering, Obito pulls him into a crushing hug. “You’re okay,” he whispers, voice shaky with relief.

Kakashi returns the embrace, reaching up to cup the back of Obito’s head. “I’m okay,” he echoes in reassurance. “What happened?”

Obito sighs as he steps back. “Orochimaru tried something.” He holds up a placating hand when Kakashi tenses. “The kids are fine. He sent one of his little minions to kidnap Sasuke. I stopped him, but he got away. According to Naruto and Sasuke, he’s been posing as a Leaf genin participating in the Exams, but he used Shikon to escape and there’s no way a mere genin would be able to do that.”

“No,” Kakashi agrees. That kind of technique is specialized, easily jounin-level or beyond. Even Rin as a chuunin and with all of her medical skills wouldn’t have come close to being able to perform it. “He must be getting impatient. Or worried.”

“That’s what I said.” Obito scoffs. “It was a reckless, stupid move on his part.”

“He underestimated you,” Kakashi notes. “Thinking that without our chakra, we’re just hobbled dogs.”

“He’s not entirely wrong.” Obito shakes his head, then peers at him, full of old, intuitive knowing that always peels back every single one of Kakashi’s many layers. “Something happened—what was it?”

“I got caught,” Kakashi admits and takes his turn placating Obito. “It’s fine. He gloated, lectured me, and then let me go.”

“Wait, Danzo showed up?” Obito hisses in alarm.

“Mm,” Kakashi says. “I honestly think he was waiting for us to try something. Say what you will about him, but he isn’t stupid. He said he isn’t going to do anything in the middle of the Exams and I believe him, but we’re definitely going to be watched more closely now.”

“Fuck,” Obito mutters, running a hand down the scarred side of his face. “Well, I’m still glad we tried.”

“He was very mad I got all the way to his records room,” Kakashi says, forcing himself to laugh in the face of the quiet despair that’s been blooming ever since Danzo’s little speech—really ever since he stepped back through the gates and accepted the seal on his arm.

Obito cackles at that, sliding an affectionate hand over the back of Kakashi’s neck, massaging gently with his thumb. “See, Bakakashi, we’re still badasses without our chakra.”

“I’d still like it back,” Kakashi sighs. He’ll need to check on Sakura’s progress. For now, he wants to make sure that Naruto and Sasuke are alright to soothe his own anxiety, and sleep for at least a few hours. They can get back to grinding themselves against the might of Konoha this afternoon.

“Yeah,” Obito says grimly. “I’m tired of feeling helpless.”

That makes two of them.

With a tired, rueful smile, Kakashi takes Obito’s hand and leads him inside.

_ _

Naruto has never considered his relationship with Konoha complicated. Sure, the villagers shunned him, were even cruel sometimes, but he simply saw that as a challenge to overcome. He would get strong—strong enough to have his face on the Hokage Monument—and then they would accept him, acknowledge him. Even after a year spent wandering the continent, he always thought that he would come back eventually and then stay to carve out space in the village for all of them, even Kakashi and Obito.

Maybe, after so long away, he doesn’t revere Konoha as he once did, but it’s never scared him before.

Not until now.

Kakashi-sensei came home looking exhausted, weighed down by ghosts that he wouldn’t name, and Naruto laid awake for hours replaying Kabuto’s knife pressed to Sasuke’s neck and the helpless fury welling in his veins. Then, this morning, Sakura was quiet and distant in the hospital, refusing to explain why so Naruto left after only a short visit, frustrated and uncertain.

He just hates this: being a pawn in someone else’s game, weathering attack after attack and unable to really do something about it. Why? Because of crimes committed years ago? Because of pointless politics? Because of clan blood and power? None of it makes sense to him and he doubts it ever will, and so Konoha has become foreign.

Maybe that’s what really scares him.

Or maybe it’s also this: that if Obito hadn’t been there last night, Sasuke would be gone and Naruto wouldn’t have been able to stop it. At least in the forest, he managed an attack against Orochimaru. A reckless, foolish one, sure, but it was something. This time, he had to stand there and watch Sasuke bleed, and he hasn’t felt that powerless in a long time.

He sighs in frustration, kicking a pebble down the street outside the hospital.

Sasuke, waiting for him on a bench outside, opens his eyes and frowns in his direction. “What’s up with you?”

“Sakura’s being weird,” Naruto huffs. “Like, hiding stuff.”

Sasuke arches an eyebrow. “Did you tell her about Kabuto?”

Another explosive sigh. “No.”

He hadn’t wanted to worry her, especially when something was already bothering her. It’s also part of why Sasuke begged off a visit—he’s clearly still a little off-balance from last night and trying to brush it off.

Naruto’s annoyed that he isn’t able to do the same.

“So I don’t think you can accuse Sakura of anything,” Sasuke says primly. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

“I know,” Naruto groans, plopping on the bench next to Sasuke. “This all just sucks.”

Sasuke touches the bandage on his neck from Kabuto’s knife with a grunt of agreement. Naruto glances at him, trying not to show too much worry because he knows from experience that will make Sasuke puff up like an angry hedgehog and then they’ll just end up fighting and that will make him feel even worse than he already does.

But it seems like he still can’t keep anything off his stupid face because Sasuke sighs, put upon, and grumbles, “stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m going to disappear.”

Naruto grits his teeth, tearing his gaze away from Sasuke’s face to stare down the street instead. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Sasuke insists. “Why?”

Naruto doesn’t want to be this vulnerable, to scrape at the already tender and raw places of himself that have been weeping at the edges since the Forest of Death. But when he risks a look back at Sasuke, he’s surprised to find no judgment there, just genuine curiosity. He thinks of Sasuke quietly offering support outside the grocery store, of the way Sasuke leaned on him last night, and wonders if they’ve actually softened enough towards each other that they can have this conversation.

“Because I’m scared,” Naruto blurts and watches Sasuke’s eyes widen in surprise. “We were just supposed to compete in a stupid exam! And now … all of this.”

He flails an arm meant to encompass Orochimaru and Sakura in the hospital and Kakashi and Obito with seals locking their chakra away, preoccupied by shadows, and Kabuto’s knife digs into skin and Orochimaru’s hand closes around his neck and Sakura lies bloody on an arena floor, and Naruto can’t lose them, any of them. Not on the road when they came close too many times but especially not in Konoha where they were supposed to be safe.

Sasuke is silent, but Naruto senses that the other boy is giving him space to explain further so he sucks in a watery breath and admits, “I’ve never had anyone. Before this team, there was just Iruka-sensei and he was only around sometimes. It was just me, and it hurt but I was used to it. I didn’t think I’d get to have anyone, you know? Family, all that stuff, that was for other people. But now–” He wrings his hands and stares up at the sky because he absolutely can’t look at Sasuke as he says, “you all mean so much to me that I think losing any of you would kill me. So that’s why.”

Sasuke shifts on the bench beside him. The silence holds, suffocates, and Naruto is ready to get up and throw himself into the nearest river when Sasuke finally murmurs, “I was scared last night too.”

He’s staring at his lap when Naruto looks over at him, but he keeps talking. “I’ve been scared since Orochimaru showed up and just—hurt you like it was nothing. Like he was swatting away a fly.” His fingers dig into the fabric of his black pants. “I haven’t had anyone in a long time, either. I told myself I didn’t need bonds, they would only slow me down.” He glances up with a faint smirk, though his eyes are almost warm. “Especially with the loud, obnoxious dead last of the class.”

Naruto huffs, sticking his tongue out, and Sasuke laughs softly.

“But you and Sakura proved me wrong,” he continues with something that might actually be affection. “You’re important to me too, dobe. So don’t disappear on me and I won’t disappear on you, even if a Legendary Sannin wants my eyes or whatever.”

Naruto absolutely can’t cry on this bench so he declares, “I’m gonna hug you,” and ignores Sasuke’s spluttered protest to drag him into an embrace. And the idiot’s only tense for half a second before he relaxes with another sigh, closing his eyes as he winds his arms around Naruto in return.

“It’s a promise,” Naruto says fiercely. “We’ll all survive this.”

“Mm,” Sasuke agrees and they actually linger there for a breath, two—somehow past the awkwardness into this strange, peaceful territory where closeness can come without embarrassment.

“Oh,” Sasuke says, still allowing Naruto to hold him, “we’ve been invited to barbeque.”

Naruto blinks. “Huh?”

Sasuke pulls back with a shrug. “Apparently, some of the other Konoha genin are going out to celebrate the end of the preliminaries. I ran into Shikamaru on my way over here and he told me we should come.”

“Oh.” It feels weird—he’s never been invited to anything before, either. Growing up, his attempts to play with other kids were always met with fear or derision, and in the Academy everyone looked down on him. He does remember Shikamaru being nice, though, and Chouji.

Maybe it would be good to go. A nice distraction from the events of the last twenty-four hours and a chance to actually talk to some of the others—gather intel, all that.

“You want to go,” Sasuke notes and sounds mostly resigned about it.

“Yeah,” Naruto says, grinning at him. “Let’s go get barbecue.”