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Chapter Text

Shikako is reincarnated as the firstborn daughter of Odin at the height of his imperialistic reign. She does what she does best and adapts to these new circumstances. It's less of a leap than last time, going from violence to violence, but it's harder in some ways. The similarities lure her into a false sense of confidence. 

Ninja tactics, culture, values—all of them are disdained in her new 'home'. Here, it is less important to get the job done well and more to be seen getting the job done heroically. And Shikako likes the shadows, has made her home in them, has bent deception and cunning to her will. She was practical over passionate even in her first life.

She catches on quickly but is self aware enough to realize the damage has been done. Hela has a reputation and it is once again associated with death, this time with the dishonorable dead. 

She robs souls of Valhalla, the people whisper. Cuts them down before they have a chance to draw their weapons. 

It sews distrust amongst the ranks of Asgard and her own soldiers begin to watch her with suspicious eyes. The sting of it—her comrades don't trust her, her team is nowhere to be found, Odin is her commander before he is her father—she buries under a flood of training and research and determination. 

It doesn't matter what they think. They're not her real people. 

who are her people now? where have they gone? will she ever find them again?

This continues until the moment General Hela Odinsdottir is deployed to crush an annoyingly slippery pocket of resistance on Jotunheim's southern continent and finds their lean, blue skinned leader with the Konoha leaf etched in his armor and wolf the size of a horse. 

"I thought I was alone," Hela croaks when they meet alone, presumably to negotiate terms. 

Ranulf doesn't say anything, his voice caught beneath the lump in his throat. He runs wide eyes over her several times, his lips twisted into an unspoken question, exclamation, plea. One hand is half outstretched, hovering in the air between them, skin solid blue and covered in swirls like scars, skin that every Aesir knows will burn. 

She takes it without hesitation. It is cold but not biting, and dwarfs her own in the way it did a lifetime ago. She doesn't have time to cry before she is yanked off her feet into a desperate embrace.

"Shikako," she hears distantly, the sound muffled and gutteral and raw.

"Sensei," she replies, pressing her face harder into his neck. Her eyes are shut tight but the tears flow freely. Kakashi's shoulders do not shake but when he finally pulls away there are damp spots in her hair. 

(They don't facilitate peace between their people. Shikako knows Odin won't listen and Kakashi has had plenty of practice at cutting his losses. The weight of another failure seethes quietly in their minds.)

Instead, Kakashi surrenders to his cute little student on the condition that children and civilians are left unharmed. This is already Kako's policy, but when she accepts it is on behalf of Odin and now all of Asgard is honor bound to these terms. As they should have been to begin with.

Hela goes back to strategizing and fighting and winning, and Ranulf stoically endures being shunned, disgraced, branded as a traitor. 

It's fitting, he thinks, that he should be dealt the same wounds as he gave his once-father. He and Melketann allow themselves to be driven up north where even a Jotun can freeze to death. Kakashi doubts anyone will come looking but he fakes their deaths anyway. 

Mel-chan whines softly and butts her head into his hip. He scratches her head reassuringly. 

"Maa, not to worry. We'll be fine. More than fine! We can go catch up with Shikako-chan now." She snuffs dubiously and Kakashi smiles as he pats her a few more times. 

"You'll warm up to her," he says. "Shikako is good for that. Explosions can melt all sorts of icy hearts."

Then, chuckling at his own joke, Kakashi claps his hands together. In a barely-there flash of seidr, they vanish. 

Chapter Text

"Father," Shikako starts. Shakes her head and scowls. 

"My lord," she corrects, "All Father. I wish to speak with you concerning the war effort on Vanaheim. It's both impractical and damaging to our reputation—ugh, no. The—I mean, our enemies will—oh, damn it all!"

Shikako hurls herself face down into her bed and continues to swear. Then someone laughs and she's shooting right back up again. She's in Kakashi's arms almost before he has time to drop down from the balcony. There's no flinch, no hesitation before he hugs her back and Shikako could almost cry again, would have in another life. 

But she is Hela now too, and the centuries have beaten the tears from her. 

"Convincing argument," Kakashi says with a casualness that belies the way he nearly crushes her to his chest.

"Not one of my best," she agrees. "Asgard isn't big on diplomacy. I'm rusty."

Kakashi hums and finally lets go. 

"You want out," he says and turns away to survey her chambers. And they're definitely 'chambers'—it would be an understatement verging on insult to call them rooms. 

"Yes." Shikako would have left before long even if they hadn't found each other. And if Kakashi is here that means he's already taken care of his loose ends. "What happened to Ranulf?"

"He and his companion were exiled to the Wastes. Nothing can live there," Kakashi replies easily. Hela's jaw twitches at the thought of anyone trying to kill her teammate. Her fingers itch for blades.

"Where's your companion now?" she asks instead of demanding the names of the ones who made a loyal man an exile. 

Her once-sensei smiles with his eyes. It's so strange to see him like this, the bare angles of his face made sharp by the ridges adorning them. Shikako never saw his face in her—their—previous life but still thinks he looks vulnerable without a mask, without any hair or hitae-ate to hide behind. 

"Mel-chan is waiting with the ship," Kakashi says happily, rubbing his hands together. 

"Ship," Shikako repeats. "And Heimdall..."

"Can't see a thing," Kakashi affirms. "Those seals you showed me weren't too hard to translate into jutsu—spells, workings, whichever."

"Lucky," Shikako says with genuine envy. Hela hadn't been born with seidr in any useful amount. She had to rely on seals to give her any edge beyond her own physical abilities. Thankfully as an Æsir she was naturally strong and fast, and after her centuries of training she could probably beat even Gai-sensei in an arm wrestling match. Definitely not Tsunade-sama though. 

"I think you've done just fine without," Kakashi tells her dryly. "Goddess of Death."

She scowls at him.

"'Ranulf Blooddrinker' is hardly any more subtle."

Kakashi concedes the point with a dip of his head. "Maa, true. But Jotunheim doesn't have much call for subtlety."

"Asgard either," she grumbles. Kakashi laughs and goes to ruffle her hair before realizing how tightly her braid is secured. He compromises by rapping his knuckles against her forehead like he did when she and Sasuke were in Anbu and he kept 'coincidentally' dropping by. 

Shikako's nose stings. Apparently Hela has some tears left in her after all. She chances going in for another hug, slower this time and giving Kakashi plenty of time to pull away. He doesn't. 

Her hands curl loosely in the back of his simple linen shirt as she rests her forehead against his sternum. The coolness feels good on her flushed skin. Even with her eyes closed Shikako can sense the way Kakashi's hands hover awkwardly before he places one on her back and pats her head a few times with the other. 

"Do you think any others...?" she trails off. Truth be told, Shikako has no idea how Kakashi is here. With her there is a precedence, if not an explanation, but Kakashi-sensei? 

Her mind shakes off the haze of awe and numb relief and begins to turn again. The existence of souls had been proven ten times over in her Konoha-life. So had some version of an afterlife, though neither the Edo Tensei'd zombies or the people brought back to life by Pein had been able to share any concrete data. Clearly Shikako was the unknown variable—

Shadows. Spiritual energy, the negative copy of everything you are. Sharingan. The eye that pierced far deeper than the mind. Seals. No chakra; my will be done! Space-time warping bullshit, a collection of natural energy made sapient. 

Well. Maybe not 'clearly'. 

"I don't know," Kakashi answers. He sounds almost amused. "But you seem to have an idea."

Shikako startles to realize she had been leaning into his (very convenient) bulk for longer than she intended. Unashamed, she tilts her head back and grins. 

"Sensei," she says giddily, "I'm about to make your worst nightmare come true. And you're going to thank me for it."

Chapter Text

POV Melketann

The star boat smells like hot metal and cold ashes. When she breathes the air is stale and clogged with all the same scents. There is no wind to bring new discoveries or carry away old memories. And it's quiet. The fake walls buzz and hum but the only heartbeats belong to small-with-sharp-teeth Melketann and runt-who-leads-the-pack Ranulf who is also Kakashi-in-dreamlife.

But now it is only her. She is waiting for stupid-cub pack-leader to return with steel-and-fire-enemy Hela who is also Kakashi-packmate-in-dreamlife Shikako. Sharp-teeth Melketann is afraid she will wait forever and her bones will turn to dust in stale-dead-wrong-scent air. 

She snarls aloud at the thought, to rip open the dull-buzz quiet, to remind herself that she is still-breathing, banished-not-dead. Mel-chan paces the cramped-too-small length of the star boat and rubs her face against pack-leader Ranulf's chair. 

Endless rounds later, the entrance hisses. Sharp-metal-ink-and-smoke mixes with worn-cloth-blood-and-skysparks. Not-enemy-maybe-packmate steps inside with Ranulf-cub-leader.

Melketann shows her teeth because she is angry-not-afraid. Ranulf shows his teeth, amused-but-giving-warning and she lowers-head-snuffs-loudly because he is pack-leader but still stupid-cub. Hela-Shikako smiles-without-teeth and tilts her head sideways like a grazing herbivore. Small-sharp Melketann is not fooled. She knows hunter from prey animal. She has seen the bodies. 

"Saa. Shikako-chan, this is Melketann, my ninken companion. Mel-chan, Shikako is pack-family and my friend."

Ink-smoke Shikako reaches out to offer her hand for sniffing. It does not smell of cloying-plant-warm-wet-humid Asgard even up close. Books, battlefields. Cool-dry stone and oven-baked bread. And always ink-smoke-live-blades. It is not a bad scent. 

"It's good to meet you, Melketann," Shikako-Hela says, quiet-smooth-firm. "Thank you for being Kakashi's teammate."

Melketann does not trust the death-dealer with a soft smile and steel threaded under her skin. But she is not an enemy. Mel flicks her ears and trots past new-pack Shikako to old-pack Ranulf. She butts her head into his stomach, hard. He snuffle-laughs and scratches deep in her ruff of fur. 

"Glad I passed." She hears Shikako smile. 

"Me too," pack-leader says. He is smiling too, wolf-pretending-as-fox with squint-eyes and no mouth. She doesn't need eyes to know that. 

Shikako-new-pack wanders around the star boat. She touches the walls and the annoying-too-small buttons that open them up. Ranulf sits in his steering chair and it turns so he can watch her. Melketann lays her head on his thigh and watches too. 

"I don't know this model," new-pack-not-enemy says. "Xandarian?"

"Adjacent," Kakashi-Ranulf tells her. "Nova Empire pod ship refurbished by a Kree warband. Slightly illegal."

A snort of laughter. "Slightly? We're packing enough weaponry to blow up a small moon."

"You're welcome," he says. "And since you're so well outfitted, I think I'll sit out the next stage of the plan."

Melketann's ears twitch. Pack-leader sounds...whiny. Ugh-no, don't-want-to-get-up, do-it-later whiny. He sounds like a puppy. 

Shikako smiles with all her many teeth. 

"Sorry sensei!" she chirps. "Explosions aren't half as identifiable as, say, the chidori and a face mask and you're the one with the seidr."

He grumbles in dreamlife-language and Mel does not know enough of it to understand. She shoves her head into his belly until he stops pouting and tells her what the not-enemy speaks of. Melketann is unsure. Ink-smoke Shikako is nipping-no-blood teasing-with-words but also narrow-eyes-showing-teeth. 

Kakashi sighs like a south wind. Loud-blustery and short lived.

"Kako-chan has a plan to sniff out more dreamlife teammates."

"Kako-chan has several plans," she corrects. "This is just the most viable."

Ranulf snuffs-pointedly-ignores-her. "In dre—in our past incarnations, we had very distinctive profiles. My cute little student here has decided that recreating those personas and... advertising them, will draw in those who recognize them from dreamlife."

"We're going to be famous," Hela-Shikako says grimly. "There's no other way. This universe is too large and too poorly connected for codes or hidden messages to be effective. Despite being so technologically advanced, this place relies primarily on hearsay and word of mouth for information. So until we establish a reliable intergalatic communication network—which could take decades—the only practical solution is to make absolute spectacles of ourselves."

She pauses a moment and looks over at Ranulf. 

"Poor Kakashi."

Chapter Text

She wanted a spectacle. Shikako wanted dropped jaws and hushed whispers and rumors so ridiculous she'd get a headache from rolling her eyes. She deliberately sought out infamy and fame. 

Well, Shikako got what she wanted. Now there's a multi-planet empire with wide eyes glued to her family's interpersonal drama and she knows in her bones this isn't going to blow over. Not even in her several-hundred-thousand-year lifetime. 

The worst part? Shikako didn't do it.

...

"So...Odin's gone crazy. I...honey, how would you feel about relocating to the Nova Empire? I hear their new capital planet is lovely."

...

"GENERAL HELA GOT FIRED, LORN. IT DOESN'T MATTER IF WE COMMIT TREASON OR NOT- WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE. JUST STEAL THE BLOODY APPLES."

...

"I think you've had enough-"

"The All Father is taking a war bride from Vanaheim and already disowned Princess Hela in favor of a true born son that doesn't exist yet and if the Executioner decides to take offense everyone on this planet is going to be dead before winter."

"...Drinks on the house."

...

Kakashi studies her warily. Hela looks back and knows her expression is mild as milk. He twitches, slouching in on himself with the habit of a lifetime long gone. His fingers brush the spot where a kunai pouch would have concealed a little orange book to hide behind.

Cute.

"This is the best outcome we could've hoped for," she says. "No matter how well concealed duplicity is, there's always a chance of the truth coming to light. We don't have to worry about that anymore."

Kakashi lifts his arm a fraction, carefully not looking at her now. It's awkward in a way she can relate to. Hela does not do physical affection, she doesn't get boisterous embraces or fond hands clapping her on the back. Even before she relearned how to plant seals with a touch, nobody was willing to get too close to the Crown Princess and Odin was hardly a font of warmth and fuzzies.

Shikako slides closer until their shoulders are touching. Once she would have tucked herself in, burrowed shamelessly against his side. Curled up all safe and secure, knowing that whatever was out there, she and her sensei and the rest of the team would face it together. Now she leans her head against his arm and it feels like vulnerability.

"We can always kill him on the way out," he offers with complete sincerity. Kako's smile feels like shards of glass when it bursts into the open. She shakes her head. 

"Nah. Too troublesome," she says. "But thanks."

He hums. Shikako exhales deliberately and allows more of her weight to slump against him. "I think he loved me at first. I was a cute kid."

Kakashi still doesn't say anything. She slouches a little further, turns her neck so her forehead is planted on his bicep. He's as cool to the touch as always. Maybe if Hela stays here forever the chill will ease the emotions scorching the back of her throat. 

"This sucks," she informs the undyed linen sleeve. "I was supposed to goad him into ditching me and then vanish into the ether so we could reinvent Copy Nin and Corpse Princess. Odin wasn't supposed to abandon Hela before she did anything."

Hela's father - the King, her Commander - disowned his own child because the ways she won the wars he shoved her into were too efficient. 'You have no passion for the fight,' Odin said to her. Said to her face. 'No honor in battle. You do not embody what it means to be a warrior of Asgard and you never will. I will not have an Heir with a heart so cold.'

Shikako wishes she were as cold as Odin seemed to think. It would hurt less. But she's a Konoha kunoichi from Team Seven and simply not caring has never been on the table. 

They sit quietly for a few more minutes. 

"If you don't want to kill Odin we should at least bring him to financial ruin, professional humiliation and universal discredit by beating him at his own game," Kakashi says eventually. "It's tradition."

Kako snorts.

"It was one time," she deadpans, smiling with less broken glass and more teeth.

"Maa, so was the Bell Test when the Nidaime took his first team. Odin abandoned you, Shikako-chan. He's worse than trash. That trumps some fuddy-duddy desk nin calling your brother stupid." 

"It would take centuries," Hela says. "Asgard's roots run deep."

"We've burned out deeper."

She can hear dark satisfaction in his voice. It matches the way her smile begins to feel on her face. Kakashi is right. As blood-soaked as Odin's Nine Realms are, he has nothing on Danzo. Hell, he has nothing on Tsunade, and despite Hashirama's goody-goody reputation she was the most benevolent of Konoha's Hokage.

Shikako breathes evenly and gathers up all her feelings of inadequacy and hurt and betrayal. She imagines sealing them away in a scroll and chucking it high into the air. The flammagenitus cloud from the explosion takes the shape of a giant middle finger in her mind's eye.

"Alright sensei. Let's blow this popsickle stand."

Chapter Text

Asgard is the shining jewel of the realms, or so it is said. Freyr likes to scowl into his mead and say if Asgard is indeed a jewel, it's the jewel in the pommel of Odin's sword. Threatening and eye-catching and useless if separated from that golden hilt. 

"A blade will just as easily cut its wielder, should the hilt be removed," he says, speaking of Hela Odinsdottir. "Death holds no allegiance! Without it Odin is like any other delusional tyrant, self important and blind to the gap in his defenses."

"And what of his armor and spear?" Freyja returns. "His helm and spiked gauntlets? A sword may increase strength and reach but no true warrior carries a single weapon." 

"But remember, sister dear, that Vanaheim is far from unarmed herself! A single weapon can change the tide of the whole battlefield."

Frigga listens from where she sits at her loom. Her siblings are so fond of metaphors. They forget the beating hearts of the men behind the menace. Odin is powerful and cunning and above all he is hungry. None expected bright, bumbling Asgard with its temperate climate and joyful people to turn into blood soaked conquerors. Not until the first realm had already fallen at the young Odin-king's feet, the rest of them scrambling to take up arms far too late. 

More and more he takes to appease the gaping pit inside. Frigga remembers the birth of the princess, the ceasefire Odin called and the hope that bloomed across the realms. The hope she felt. Could a child fill the Corpsebringer's hollow heart? But the princess was so strong and Odin was too greedy. Not three centuries passed before a shadowed slip of a girl started manifesting on the battlefield, spreading death with a touch of pale fingers and pulling endless blades out of her own flesh. 

Armies fell like dandelions in the wind, cities like children's building blocks. The World Tree shuddered and cried out, a chorus that has yet to cease. And still Odin wants more.

"Battle begets battle and the blood we draw will be the blood we lose," Frigga interrupts her brother to say, still combing threads into place. "To bring peace to the mind of the warmonger will stop the warring."

"At an unacceptable cost," Freyja spits, whirling to face her. "We will not barter you for Odin's mercy! Vanaheim does not trade in lives-"

"No, we do not," she says. "You have no ownership of mine, and I will spend it as I choose."

Freyr sounds exhausted. "Sister," he says, "Frigga. You are right. We could not stop you. But please... you would be wise to listen to our counsel-"

"Brother, stop. I am young but I am hardly foolish. I have Seen things beyond any of our lifetimes. I am one of the best equipped in all the Realms for this task and the risks are far lower for me than any other." Frigga finishes her row and stands. She takes her siblings' hands in each of hers.

"Even you cannot be sure what the tapestry will be until it is woven," Freyja murmurs. "The threads are always in motion."

Frigga smiles gently. "Then I must be, as well."

Freyr's lips purse and Freyja's shoulders sag and Frigga knows she has won.

. . . 

Shikako would be the first to admit she doesn't remember as much of her first life as she wants to. That's not saying much, since she'd also be the last to admit it. Because she's the only one who knows there was a life before Asgard and before Konoha. 

You can tell sensei, a Naruto-esque voice pipes up. He'll believe you, he understands now. 

Shikako is aware of the fact, yes. It's irrelevant to the issue at hand, i.e. the Plot. And her lack of knowledge thereof. Once upon a time, there was an unremarkable girl with an ordinary memory and a slightly-above-average knowledge of books, comics, and tv shows. Her interests lay along the lines of the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and other fantasies. She watched all the Marvel films because she wasn't a heathen but frankly movies had never been a huge point of interest for her. 

Not enough time and freedom to lay out the world building and characters, in her opinion. Give her thirty nine seasons of Dr Who over a box office hit any day. 

That mindset, like so many other things that never should have mattered, is back to bite her in the butt. 

At the very least I should have kept up with the comics, Shikako laments. Dammit. But she was raised on DC and the bias stuck even as an adult. Batman kicked ass, freaking sue her!

"You're thinking yourself in circles," Kakashi says blandly. Sprawling across her (fluffy, insanely comfortable) bed like there isn't a perfectly good couch right there. Melketann, who has manners, is dozing on the thick rug Shikako procured just for her.

"I need more intel," she scowls, pulling a kunai out of hammerspace to fiddle with. "The plan isn't ready yet. The plan is practically fit for scrap!"

"Maa, Shikako-chan," he says, "we don't need a plan right now." 

Hela stops twirling the knife and glares. "There should always be a plan, sensei," she snaps. "Whether or not it works is of secondary importance to having an existing structure to build off of."

Ranulf raises an eyebrow, expression otherwise lax. "It's just us now, Hela-chan. The two of us have enough experience to improvise a little, and Mel-chan is a fast learner."

Right. Shikako shakes her head, a cluster of braids smacking her in the face. She's not the General anymore. She doesn't need to defend her choices to Odin, how she deviated from her orders to keep 1.2 million local noncombatants out of the line of fire—

—how just because her duty is to Asgard doesn't mean she owes no respect to all other sentient life—

—and how the hell is it dishonorable to spare mass innocents from needless destruction when Odin disowns Hela for dispatching enemies actively trying to kill people under her command? 

Culture clash, she reminds herself and nods at Kakashi, conceding the point. Odin's Asgard would rather die pointlessly in battle than live to protect their home and families another day. 

Those cowards, she thinks. Taking the easy way out. Dying is easy. Living is much harder.

Hela had hoped to change things like that, one day. Before the siege of Jötunheim, before she found Ranulf who is Kakashi. Shikako has always been selfish when it came to keeping her precious people close. Hela just never got the chance. 

"Alright. What are you thinking?" she asks. 

"We have the ship," Kakashi says. "You have your seals. We can be gone in ten minutes and nobody will ever know how. Operation Nightmare doesn't require the loose ends to be tied up, Kako-chan. Just cut them off."

Hela exhales slowly and Shikako takes a deep breath in. "No explanations. Just gone." 

"The Realms don't have much to do with peoples beyond Yggdrasil," he says. "It won't even be difficult."

Shikako thinks about it, but she doesn't need to. She knows what she's going to do, Plot or no Plot, plan or no plan. She has Kakashi-sensei back; very little else matters to her anymore. It's not her responsibility to save the universe she doesn't even know where to start  and Odin made it clear it's not her responsibility to save Asgard anymore, either. 

Besides. Thor and Loki haven't even been born yet. She has time.

Shikako takes a good look around her no-longer-royal chambers and cuts her finger with her kunai. She smears her blood over the tattoos on both forearms and murmurs,

"Seal." 

A brief mandatory light-show of purple smoke and blackish sparks later, the room is empty. Kakashi lurches through thin air where the mattress used to be, twists, and lands lightly on his fingertips and the balls of his feet. Melketann yelps loudly and skitters to her paws. The two of them glare at her with the exact same huffy and disgruntled expression. 

Shikako smothers her amusement, and then realizes she doesn't need to. She bursts out laughing, enjoying the unfamiliar stretch of her facial muscles. It's a giddy, surreal feeling. Hela scoffs and smirks and sneers, usually at the misfortune of others (it's a coping mechanism, okay?) but she doesn't smile. Hela likes how it feels.

"Brat," Kakashi grouses. Shikako grins at him. 

"Love you too, sensei," she chirps. "Let's get out of here." 

Grumbly but eye-smiling, Kakashi puts his hand on her shoulder. Melketann leans against his other side. Kakashi focuses, free hand twitching into a half-seal, and whisks them away in not-quite-teleportation, not-quite-shunshin.

. . . 

Days pass before a brave servant knocks on the door against Odin's wishes, to see if her lady is alright. Her lady is more than just alright, but one Erin Gerundsdottir doesn't know that. What she knows is that her little lady is vanished without a trace, a golden haired Vanir young enough to be Erin's daughter appeared just as suddenly, and the All Father has declared a new era of peace in which the name Hela of Asgard shall never be spoken again.

Chapter Text

Their first performance—er, mission—is a simple weapon run. A planet called Xffasi is attempting to secede from the Gohxl Empire, a tiny collection of moons, the one planet, and a couple literal satellite cities. The rebels need guns and things that go boom. They're desperate enough to hire two unknowns to transport weapons and still desperate enough afterwards to allow the same unknowns to butt in on their military strategies. 

Which kinda suck. Between them, Kakashi and Shikako manage to help Xffasi win not only independence but also a handful of trade agreements with neighboring star systems that should deter the Gohxl from retaking their former territory. 

It's...fun. Simple. A relief, almost. Like a video game set to easy after being forced to play on hard mode with one hand duck taped to your head and a horde of ill-mannered children shouting criticism and trying to yank the remote away. 

After the last few centuries of Asgard's nonsense, organizing guerilla warfare against a baby dictatorship is a vacation. Hela waits to feel bad for treating people's lives as a game, but the feeling never comes. They aren't taking it seriously, maybe, but they aren't slacking off. The operation is fast, efficient, and effective.

Shikako blows up control ships and command posts and Kakashi rips clear through enemy ships with a fistful of lightning and a vicious canine companion. They don't quite recreate their once-uniforms, but Kakashi wears a mask and Shikako weaves her long hair into a braid. Utility vests take the place of flak jackets and combat boots stand in for open sandals. 

It's less than six standard cycles before the Xffasi are celebrating independence. There's feasts and a press conference equivalent and representatives come from the Nova Empire. The Shinobi network—alright, Shikako networks and Kakashi stands behind her to the left with his nose in a book—and plant seeds for future interactions. They want to be remembered. They want to be notorious. 

Very helpful on that front are the statues of the Corpse Princess, the Lightning Fist (Shikako laughed. Kakashi despaired) and Mel-chan (who refused all titles and nicknames) built in the new capital city. 

And okay, maybe Shikako was expecting more along the lines of a section in history books about the revolution, some museum exhibits, or even a documentary a few decades down the line. But as embarrassing as it is, they're very definite proof of existence. 

So Shikako slaps a bunch of detection seals on the statues and Kakashi shows off his unfair versatility with his magic faux-jutsu to plant coded messages keyed to things like 'Konoha', 'Team Seven', 'Hn', 'Ramen' and 'Believe it!'. Other phrases include: troublesome, Eternal Rival, Lucky Sevens, etc. The Xffasi invite them to stay, which is their cue to leave. There's a big send off. Fireworks and a parade and people singing. It's broadcast to the entire planet.

The Minister asks them if they'd like to say a few words. Kakashi pretends to think about it.

"Hm. No thanks."

Shikako stumbles through a few sentences about it being an honor to fight with them and how the true victory is the work of the Xffasi people. For standing up to tyranny and. Stuff. All she and Kakashi did was hit things. That was easy. 

"So even though Kakashi and I led the war effort," she tries, "it would be pointless without the tenacity, brilliance, and, um, moral fiber," Shikako just quoted Dumbledore at an alien, what the fuck even is her life, "of this...incredible people. Who didn't give up and still haven't. Um. And."

She searches desperately for more words. She should have stopped there! That was a great finishing statement! Shikako feels the weight of hundreds, thousands, a billion eyes. Her face feels hot and there's a rock lodged in her throat. She has to say something. She—

"You will take it from here," Kakashi-sensei cuts in, and for an awful moment she thinks he's talking to her. "You are in charge of your fate, as you always have been. The Xffasi rise on their own merits, through hard work and team work, and they will continue to rise. Your planet is in but the Springtime of Youth and can only grow from here."

The crowd erupts with applause. There are honest-to-kami tears in the Ministers eyes. Shikako's lungs are bursting with the desire to laugh as they smile and wave and finally, FINALLY turn to leave. Mel-chan is the first one to the ship, sliding a little on the glassy smooth walkways the Xffasi favor. Shikako is right on her tail–almost literally. She has to do some fancy footwork from stepping on the tetchy wolf. Kakashi bring up the rear, moving faster than his usual lackadaisical slouch. 

As the ramp closes behind them, Shikako can't hold it in anymore. A long, high pitched wheeze escapes her, followed up a desperate inhale and absolute gouts of laughter. She sags to the floor, starfishing out like a little kid. Kakashi plants his face against the wall and groans. Which leaves it up to Melketann to start the ship. And as dignified as the wolf is, it's impossible not to look ridiculous pushing buttons with your nose. 

Shikako gasps with mirth. There's a muffled snort from Kakashi's direction. When she looks over he's still facing the wall, shoulders shaking suspiciously. 

Grinning like a fool, Shikako reigns in her laughter just enough to say:

"The Xffasi sure are geniuses of hard work, ne?" His head ducks further. 

"Such hard work!" Shikako continues, voice wavering with giggles. "Such Youth! I am inspired!! I too will lead a planet to victory against such Unyouthfulness or I will do a thousand pushups with my tongue!!!"

His whole body quakes now. Shikako goes in for the kill. 

"YOSH!" she roars. "My Eternal Rival, I Challenge YOU to a Contest of the Victory of Liberty Over Tyranny! Whoever assists the most peoples fighting Youthfully for their Freedom will WIN!"

And Kakashi breaks. 

It starts with a short, grating bark and progresses to a hoarse cackle, and finally fades into gravelly snickering. It's loud and abrasive and frankly unattractive but it's the most she's ever heard Kakashi laugh.

It's the best sound she's ever heard.

Chapter Text

Shikako would be the first to say she didn't care what Asgard thought of her anymore. And if she was lying, who was going to call her out on it? Kakashi, the king of "deny, distract, deflect"? 

That being said, Hela paid careful attention to whatever rumors of Asgard and the Nine Realms made it into the Andromeda Galaxy. She would genuinely prefer not to, would rather pretend she was all out of shits to give. But the shinobi agreed with the General in her, and she had to know whatever intel the universe thought it had on them.

What she heard...kind of made her regret not blowing up Odin when she had the chance. Asgard was entering a new era of peace, iron fist inside a velvet glove rather than the silken steel of a naked blade and all that poetic rot. As a gesture of goodwill, the All Father had "beaten his sword into a plow" by banishing the Death Bringer when she refused to submit to peace. 

That fucker who told her that she wasn't good enough at war was now telling the whole damn galaxy that he got rid of her because she wasn't good for anything but war. 

"I can kill him easily," Kakashi says. "It will only take a few weeks to get to Yggdrasil now that the Universal Neural Teleportation Network* is operational again."

It takes several minutes for her to respond. Even Melketann, who still regards Hela suspiciously all these weeks, months, years later, seems concerned. She noses Shikako's bare shoulder--it's miserably hot on Cael VI--and the cool, wet sensation on her skin jolts her out of her stupor. 

She looks up at Kakashi, who is in his pale blue warm-climate form and still uncomfortable. She opens her mouth and closes it a few times.

"Yes," she rasps. "But- no."

He nods. "We'll return to the Nine and you can decide on Odin's fate there," he states, probably translating for Melketann's benefit. "Up you get."

She allows her sensei to lift her to her feet with one chilly, gigantic hand and kinda just...stands there. She's acting absurd, she knows. Shikako never gave up, always kept forging forward, no matter what damage she took. Hela's feelings are hurt and it's paralyzing her!

Stop being pathetic, she hisses at herself. It doesn't help. She stands, and breathes, and tries to muster up the will to move. 

Once upon a time, her will was enough to banish gods and hijack seals centuries in the making, even if they (and the world) got a little broken in the process. 

"I will carry you," Ranulf tells her. "Don't be ashamed. Wounds of the heart are- are more debilitating than any physical injury."

Right. Shikako dimly recalls the state she was in before the Kyuubi attack put the fear of Plot in her, when she was constantly tempted to give up and let the chakra in the air smother her tiny lungs. Kakashi crouches in front of her and guides her onto his back. Hela manages to sling her arms around his neck, rests her cheek against his shoulder blade, the fabric of his tank top cool against her skin. The flex of coiled muscle under his skin is grounding, and she finds herself seeping back into her body one sense at a time. By the time they reach the ship, Shikako is fully aware and fully exhausted.

"The mission," she tells Kakashi, even as he presses the button to extend her bunk from the wall and plops her down.

"Is not more important than you," he snaps. Relents, when she frowns at him.

"I'll complete the mission," he assures her. "Mel-chan will keep you company. Be back in a flash."

He raps his knuckles lightly against her forehead and vanishes. 

Hela collapses into the bed, staring at the wall of their new ship. It's bigger than the stolen scout ship they set out on, outfitted with paw-friendly controls and a separate living/dining area that can convert into a sleeping area on command. It feels more like a spaceship, all silver metal and sleek angles. 

Melketann used her claws to score neat, curved lines into the walls about a foot or so off the floor, all across the ship. She figures it's a method of marking her territory in a way that doesn't include bodily fluids. 

Idly, Hela summons a dagger from Hammerspace. It's different from the matte black blades her seidr, so different from chakra, tends to produce. The hilt is a gold alloy, the blade uru. There's little emeralds in the pommel, clustered to make four-point stars. She flips it in her hand, reading the inscription on the other side of the hilt.

Imperial Princess Hela Odinsdottir it says. It's the first weapon Odin ever gave her, back when she was as tall as his hip and followed him around like she believed she was going to be his successor one day. She wanted to learn everything he had to teach, to be worthy of his respect. 

Hela's lip curls. She banishes it back into Hammerspace, unable to throw it away and equally unable to keep looking at it. Respect shouldn't be something children have to earn. Shikaku and Yoshino taught her that. If they were here now...

But they aren't. It's just her, Kakashi-sensei, and Melketann for the moment. She truly believes they'll find Naruto and Sasuke, at least others from their past life but the universe is a big damn place and not all species are as long-lived as the jotnar and aesir. In the back of her mind Shikako is terrified that her teammates could have been reborn, lived, and died as mortals, all while she took centuries just to grow up. 

Mel snarls in the way she does to tell Ranulf to stop sulking. Hela is so accustomed to the sound, it takes her a second to realize that, with Kakashi gone, Melketann is talking to her. She blinks dumbly at the wolf.

Melketann glowers at her, flicking her ears and slashing her tail through the air. She's not quite like the wolves from Before, in the same way aesir and jotnar are not quite like humans. Her skull is a little broader than a wolf's and her features are more mobile; plus beneath all the fur Melketann is agile, her bones and joints flexible, with a tail that behaves almost like a cat's. All of which is to say, she's far better at glowering than she has any right to be.

"I'm not sulking," Hela lies, mostly to see what will happen. Melketann's "eyebrows" furrow, wrinkling her snout to show the slightest hint of fang. That's her stupid-two-leg-why-are-you-so-dumb-stop-it-at-once face. Hela almost smirks but it dies under a wave of apathy.

"You don't even care about me," she tells the probably-not-actually-a-wolf. It isn't accusatory or anything- it's just fact. They both love Ranulf-Kakashi, and he loves both of them, so they tolerate each other for his sake. But Mel bristles like she's offended and shoves forward into Shikako's space.

NO, the gesture says, aggressive. Peeved herself, Shikako narrows her eyes and glares right back instead of averting her gaze and ignoring it like she usually does. 

"Yes," she growls. "You don't trust me and you don't like me, so don't fucking lie about it now."

Melketann puffs up and snaps forward like she's going to bite Shikako's nose. Hela headbutts her. 

She yelps and rears back, going cross eyed to look at her lightly bleeding snout. There's a moment of stunned silence before Mel lunges and Hela meets her halfway, surging (re: toppling) out of the bunk. She lands on Mel's back, plants one foot against the wall for leverage, and tips her on her side. They grapple on the floor like angry puppies, aiming to hurt but not injure. Shikako pulls on Melketann's ear and Melketann manages to yank her hair, teeth sinking deep into her braid. She gets out of it by smashing a fist down on Mel's paw and rolling away. 

They circle each other, snarling, and exchange a few feints before Melketann loses patience and darts forward, nipping at her hamstrings. Shikako dodges up and over, executing a picture-perfect Uchiha aerial tuck, and sweeps Mel's back legs out from under her. She regains her footing swiftly and whirls on Hela again.

Hela prepares to counter, but Mel jerks to a stop. She shakes her fur out and raises her chin to bark once.

Enough.

"You started it," Shikako mutters, wiping blood from her split lip. Mel sighs loudly and pads forward. Shikako watches warily but doesn't attack. They're almost of a height, the fully-grown ninken and the mostly-grown warrior. Hela's got maybe four inches on her, and weighs about half as much. The wolf sits and peers seriously at her. She feels exposed by those yellow eyes. 

Deliberately slow, Melketann leans forward and licks the blood off her chin, then the scratches on her bicep, the shallow punctures in her calf, the scrape on her knee. All the fight drains out of Shikako and she slumps forward, leaning into the wolf's bulk. Melketann snuffles at the base of her neck, tickling the sensitive skin there. She shifts around until somehow they're both curled up on the floor, Shikako within the curve of the ninken's body, bracketed by the wall behind her. Safe. Protected.

Hela tucks her face into the thick, downy fluff on Mel's side, so different from the coarse fur along her back. 

"Thanks," she whispers, eyes prickling. Melketann gently, oh so gently, butts their foreheads together. Hela barks a laugh, shocked, and keeps laughing until it bleeds into rough, gasping sobs. She barely notices when she lapses into sleep.

. . .

Sharp-tooth Melketann is ashamed of herself. It is not an emotion she feels often, and she rarely dwells on emotions when she can fight-kill or groom-snuggle the cause of them into submission instead. Shadow-blade Hela-Shikako smells of salt-misery-blood and one of those is foolish-unseeing Melketann's fault. She watches-nurtures-pushes cub-leader Ranulf because he is young-foolish-uncertain even when he is fierce-wise-relentless. 

She ignored and did not want to see that Hela is small-young-soft as much as she is angry-brave-motivated. Shikako is young-foolish-uncertain, she is hurt-betrayed-confused, she is cub-who-wants-and-needs-pack-but-will-not-admit-it. Melketann will watch-nurture-protect the small-shadow-cub Shikako, and will rend-flesh-splinter-bone-spill-blood of any who threaten their young-precious-foolish pack of three.