Archive of Our Own

Yamato woke up.

It was the biggest relief he’d ever felt after surfacing from a dream. He’d had his share of nightmares but that one… He was awake now. He knew he was awake. The world had the flavor of reality, where no one knew what was going to happen next and nothing was inevitable. In dreams, everything felt like a pattern he was trapped in. There was the possibility of changing the world when you were awake.

His entire body also hurt a lot. That was a good indicator that this was real and not a dream.

“Ow,” he attempted to say, but his mouth had dried out days ago. All he could do was breathe and try to remember how to open his eyes. They were gummed shut—he’d left them closed for too long. He squeezed them tightly remind them how they were supposed to work.

Water slipped between his teeth and Yamato realized for the first time that he’d been clenching his jaw so hard it was numb. He swallowed the water and cracked his mouth open wider, feeling muscles twitch and burn with effort.

“Tenzo?”

Yamato eased one eyelid up. It was gloomy where he was, a cave? There were roots hanging from the ceiling and the rocks and dirt around him were lit with a strange green glow. His senses were returning slowly. Someone was running their hands over his stomach, another person was crouched nearby watching him, and a third person was propping him up with an arm around his back and a shoulder for his head to loll against. Yamato recognized the smell of someone who hadn’t bathed in a very long time.

“K’k’sh,” was all Yamato could manage. Of course Hatake fuckin’ Kakashi showed up to save the day.

“Goddammit, Tenzo,” Kakashi said. He sounded almost a bad as Yamato, his voice rough and cracked. Yamato could hear it echo in his chest. He burrowed closer to the sound of Kakashi’s heartbeat, even though it meant his nose was crammed into the damp hollow of Kakashi’s throat and his faceplate was probably— Oh, someone had taken his faceplate off. That was probably a good idea. He was getting healed, he didn’t need his faceplate at the moment anyway.

“S’kra?” Yamato asked.

“Hey, Captain,” Sakura said softly. Her hands were steady just below the hollow of his ribs. “We’re gonna get you out of here, don’t worry.”

“You are safe now,” said Sai from where he was squatting by Yamato’s feet.

Yamato nodded slowly, scraping his cheekbone up and down Kakashi’s chest. “Mm.”

Kakashi’s other arm draped over Yamato’s shoulder and his hand tucked Yamato’s head even more tightly against him. “Missed you,” he said in that rough grumble. It was a mutter but Yamato could hear it clearly, and all the unsaid words behind it. He closed his eyes again. He was safe.

Apparently, getting captured and tortured and chakra-drained to fuel shapeshifting clones warranted some remuneration from Konoha. It wasn’t the village’s fault he’d been captured, of course—that blame rested firmly on a giant snake and the fucked-up medical ninja who controlled it—but they could certainly try to make up for the trauma he’d suffered.

“You’re off-duty indefinitely, kiddo,” Tsunade said. “Take some time to yourself. Hell, take the rest of your life to yourself if you feel like it. I’m thinking about going that route.”

“Please don’t,” Yamato said. “At least not until you can get Naruto trained.”

Tsunade smirked. “Oh, we both know he’s a quick study.”

“He can’t Shadowclone his way to Hokage,” Yamato said.

Tsunade barked out a laugh. “Ha! But he’d try, you know he would. No, Shizune and I are making him figure things out the slow way. Shikamaru volunteered to help him out. Well, he’s been volunteered to help out so he can’t say no. And now that Sasuke’s back, there’s no reason for Naruto to go traveling around anymore. He’s got enough problems to deal with right here and we’re going to make sure he works on them.” Tsunade looked positively fierce for a moment, and then she faded back, rubbing her forehead with a sigh. There were more wrinkles there than Yamato remembered. She was old for a ninja, he couldn’t let himself forget that. She was old and she had lost many friends and loved ones. She deserved a break as much as he did. More of a break, perhaps. She’d survived three ninja wars. And yet here she was, working hard, dedicated to the cause of protecting her people, exhausted beyond belief but still…

Why was she doing this? Why was Kakashi still taking missions? Why was Yamato feeling a faint twinge of guilt at the idea that he’d be getting paid to do nothing for the rest of his life if he so chose? With this many questions, Yamato needed to find some answers somewhere.

“Hokage?” he said.

She looked up through her hair. “What.”

“Could I have access to classified personnel files?”

“Which ones?” she asked warily.

“Mine. And a few others’.”

“Those are classified for a reason. You’re going to have to ask any other ninjas for permission personally. And I’d like an explanation why before I open those records to you.”

“Shall I write up a report, then?” Yamato said, because he couldn’t stand up to her impassive listening face with a vague idea he’d thought up a minute ago.

“After you write up a report about what happened to you during the war, yes,” Tsunade said. “Take your time with both, though. Gods know you’ve done a lot for this village, you’ll be doing even more now that you’re back for the rebuilding efforts, and you have time.”

Yamato bowed and left. Time. The most precious resource, in his opinion. He had more than enough now.

He did not put his name on the volunteer list for rebuilding. After all, he had time.

Kakashi slammed open the door of their apartment as Yamato was fixing dinner. “Tenzo?”

“Kitchen.”

Kakashi sounded casual as he asked, “Do you know where they put Sasuke?”

Yamato turned. Kakashi was leaning on the doorframe and his eye was slitted in the way that meant he was practically in hysterics under that mask. “No?”

“He’s living with Guy,” Kakashi said.

“Oh gods.” Yamato dropped his stirring spoon. “Who decided— Why?”

“It makes sense when you think about it. Guy’s powerful enough to slow him down, maybe actually stop him since they locked up Sasuke’s chakra pathways. We’d hear Guy yelling a mile away if he was in any danger. He’s got his own place so the ninjas who hate Sasuke won’t have to be around him. Guy doesn’t hate anyone. He’s Guy; he probably volunteered.”

“I’m sure he did,” Yamato sighed. He scooped up the stirring spoon off the floor and ran it under the tap.

“Naruto practically shat himself when he heard,” Kakashi said. “Then he started asking why Sasuke couldn’t live with him.”

Yamato winced. “Please tell me you didn’t say—”

“I brought up the fact that they’d have to get married first so they weren’t living in sin,” Kakashi said happily.

“Were you in that—?”

“It was in a full meeting of our village elders and significant members of ANBU, the jonin squads, and guard patrol,” Kakashi said, sounding even happier.

“You live to torture your students,” Yamato said. He turned back to dinner, running the edge of the spoon around the rim of the pot to make sure nothing in the stew was sticking.

“Hey, uh.”

Yamato stiffened. Kakashi never sounded this uncertain when he was speaking to Yamato. “Yes?” he asked, staring into the stew.

“You’ve been sleeping…strangely.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Yamato turned down the stove heat and put the lid on the pot. He wasn’t really sure what to do after this, so he pressed his hands to the counter. He looked out the window that was a little to the left of the sink, just off-center enough to be frustrating. It was a shitty view of the back of another apartment building. For one fierce moment, Yamato missed their old home. But that had been destroyed by Pain, and now this was home. He’d get used to it. “I’ve been reading,” he said.

“Not my books?” Kakashi gasped in shock.

“About post-traumatic stress disorder,” Yamato said.

There was a pause. “Okay?”

“Civilian books,” Yamato said.

Another pause. “Okay? Is that significant?”

“PTSD is only discussed in civilian-written texts. I had to get Sakura to lend me her father’s library card so I could check books out about it. It’s all recent stuff, the past few years or so. The people involved in research around it are civilian doctors. Civilian therapists, really. It’s more than we have.”

“There are ninja therapists,” Kakashi said.

“The Yamanaka clan is not therapy,” Yamato said. “They’re mind-readers and sensory ninjas. They aren’t trained to ask people questions, they’re trained to get answers.”

“So, what? Civilians have better therapy?”

“Yes,” Yamato snapped, and he turned around to glare at Kakashi.

The man had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were up. It was an old defensive posture. Yamato hadn’t seen it aimed at him in years. What he was about to say would probably not improve matters.

Yamato took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask Tsunade if I can start a psychiatric hospital and therapist training program to assist shinobi.”

Kakashi gave him a bored look, which meant he was very uncomfortable with this conversation and wanted it to end. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’d like your help,” Yamato said. Kakashi was already shaking his head but Yamato plowed on. “Just for the image.”

Kakashi’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

Yamato couldn’t hide a small smile as he said, “You know all those things Guy calls you? Hip and cool?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re incredibly good at your job in addition to being… unstable,” Yamato said. “Everyone knows that. You’re chronically lazy and you read porn in public and you survived the last two ninja wars. Yes?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So if you agree therapy is a necessary part of being a functional ninja, people will listen. You can help integrate the idea of therapy into everyone’s minds. Your image is ideal for this.”

Kakashi tilted his head to one side. “Do I have to actually talk to a shrink?”

“A little, probably,” Yamato said. “I’d like you to try at least. To get a sense of what it’s like in case anyone asks.”

“Are you the shrink?” Kakashi asked quietly.

Yamato shook his head. “Conflict of interests.”

“What does that mean?” Kakashi said.

“It means I shouldn’t know everything about you,” Yamato said. “Just like you shouldn’t know everything about me.”

“This is the exact opposite of all the dialogue I’ve come across in my novels,” Kakashi said. “This’s literally the opposite of what you’re supposed to say. Do you realize that?”

“You won’t tell me some things because you don’t want to worry me,” Yamato said. “I’d do the same to you.”

“You’d lie? You’re admitting you’d lie to me?”

Yamato rubbed his forehead with both his hands. “No, Kakashi-senpai, I mean I’d downplay how bad things are so you don’t treat me like I’m breakable when I’m home. There’d be no disconnect between therapy and living together. That sounds like hell, do you want to fucking try that?”

Kakashi slumped back against the door frame. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

“I don’t sleep much these days. You noticed.” Yamato turned back to the stew. “Do you want to eat now?”

“Yeah.” There was some shuffling noises and then Kakashi’s chin hit his shoulder. His hair invaded Yamato’s right ear and one of his hands tapped out a beat absently on Yamato’s hip bone. “Smells good.”

“Unlike you,” Yamato said. He let his head bump against Kakashi’s companionably.

“I’ll do it,” Kakashi said. “Try the therapy thing and tell people it’s worth checking out.”

Yamato stopped reaching for bowls and wrapped his free hand around Kakashi’s. “Thank you.”

…intrusive memories, avoidance, memory loss, negative changes in thinking and mood, or changes in emotional reactions.

Yamato wrote each symptom down in his notes and then sat back with a wince. The list was on to its third page and it was looking far, far too familiar. He wasn’t privy to many ninjas’ personal lives and he still hadn’t filed that request for personnel records yet, but he had seen some evidence of—he flipped back a page.

…nightmares, sleeplessness, distrust, difficulty concentrating, easily startled, loss of interest, numbness, anger and irritability, flashbacks, anxiety, paranoia…

Two common threads were a lack of control and a lack of support. If people didn’t feel like they could do anything during a crisis (and of course they failed a lot of the time, ninjas were only human), or if they felt like there was no one they could count on after a traumatic event had happened, then PTSD could become unmanageable.

It was seeing symptoms laid out like this that made Yamato’s stomach tie itself in knots. So many ninjas lived this way. There were some ANBU who never, ever had deep personal relationships with other people because they were too afraid of losing what they cared about. They made the village the only thing they could love because their occupation was dangerous and they knew it.

Yamato’s eye passed over another page of his notes.

…frequently avoid places or things that remind of what happened, consider harming self or others, drinking or drugs to numb feelings, working to occupy mind, isolation…

Ninja and civilians didn’t often intermingle except on very superficial levels. Sakura, Lee, and Tenten were all children with no shinobi lineage to speak of, yet they’d picked this life. It was a rare civilian family who would let a child join the ninja academy. Career ninjas expected their children to join up but civilians usually tried to steer their kids away from the dangerous business of shinobi. Civilians knew what ninjas went through and they were happy to stay well away from it. That distance clearly gave a deeper insight into how fucked up ninjas really were. PTSD was a way of life for shinobi, but civilian texts proved that it didn’t have to be something you lived your life around and kept a secret. You could—and should—talk to people about it. Trained people. Professionals.

Symptoms of PTSD are a normal reaction after a traumatic event. Should seek help if symptoms last longer than three months, cause great distress, disrupt work or home life.

Where on earth was Yamato going to find professionals capable of dealing with ninja trauma?

“Naruto?” Yamato said.

Naruto yawned widely and leaned on the doorframe of his apartment. “Uwauh?”

“May I ask you something?”

Naruto stood there for a while, swaying. His eyes were still completely closed. Then he held his door open wider and staggered back a few steps. “Yeah.”

Yamato tugged his shoes off and lined them up by the door. There was clutter everywhere, a general layer of empty food packaging and clothes and scrolls for his Hokage studies with Tsunade. The apartment smelled like unwashed teenage boy already, despite the fact that the entire village had been rebuilt from scratch only a few months ago and there was no reason for it to smell strange yet. Naruto clearly had some powerful ability to mark his territory.

“Want water or something?” Naruto offered, yawning again.

“Yes,” Yamato said.

Naruto turned on the tap. There wasn’t even a rattle in the pipes. “Uh. Sorry, water’s out.”

“That’s fine,” Yamato said.

“You could jutsu some up if you want,” Naruto offered. “I don’t mind if you use the sink, yanno.”

Yamato kept his face carefully blank. “No, I’m all right.” He hoped that he wouldn’t break out into a cold sweat as he had previously done every other time he considered ninjutsu. His chakra levels were absolutely fully recovered by now, all the medical ninjas agreed on that. Whenever he considered tapping into that wellspring and feeling it bleed away, though, he started to feel clammy and there was a rushing sound in his ears and all he could remember was the dark of that cave, the tightness around his chest, the emptiness under his skin, the exhaustion that turned into nightmares… It was best to avoid the thought.

Naruto shrugged and thumped into one of the chairs in the middle of his eating area. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”

“When you’ve struggled with difficult problems in the past, are there people you go to for advice?” Yamato asked.

“Oh! For sure,” Naruto said, perking up. “Iruka-sensei, Pervy Sage, Killer Bee, Kakashi-sensei, sometimes Sakura, Shikamaru’s good for some junk but he sighs a lot, Gamakichi, my mom gave me a ton of advice but I was a baby so I only learned about it a few months ago yanno, Dad was good at stuff and he gave me a lot of ideas, Choji’s mom’ll feed me—”

“I was thinking more about when you want to talk about feelings,” Yamato interrupted.

Naruto frowned. “What? Like when Kurama used to get mad? He’s calmed down a lot since we’re friends now, yanno, I don’t—”

“Have you ever talked about what triggers anxiety attacks?” Yamato said.

“What are those?”

Yamato clasped his hands and rested them on the table. “When we were in the Land of Iron and you weren’t able to breathe.”

Naruto’s curious expression closed down and he tucked his chin. “Oh. That. That's not. That doesn't happen much.”

“Did you talk to people about problems you’ve had coping with stressful situations?” Yamato asked.

Naruto shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“S’not something you talk to people about, yanno,” Naruto said. “I dunno what good it would do.”

“I see. Is there a type of person you would talk to about that sort of thing?”

Naruto squinted up at him through his shaggy hair. “Not really? Um.”

“If someone wanted to help you deal with your feelings by having you talk about them,” Yamato tried, “is there a certain kind of person that you’d like to listen?”

“Oh,” Naruto said. “Um. Kinda like you, I guess.”

Yamato blinked. “Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Naruto said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and flushing a little. His voice sped up as he sought to explain himself. “Like, you’re good at explaining stuff really clearly and that’s good. And you don’t lie to people, yanno. And I know you’re good at giving advice. And you listen to people, even Kakashi-sensei and he talks about weird stuff sometimes.”

“That he does,” Yamato said, smiling faintly.

“You have a pretty scary face but not all the time,” Naruto continued. “Yeah, I guess I’d talk to you about stuff. Or someone like you.”

Yamato nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you, Naruto. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s this for?” Naruto asked.

Yamato rose. “I’m on semi-permanent leave and I’m working on a personal project.”

“What’s the project?” Naruto asked, bouncing to his feet.

Yamato considered for a moment, then said, “I’m going to try and put together a therapy program and psychiatric hospital for the ninja of Konoha.”

Naruto blinked. “Oh. Okay. Can you tell me how that goes?”

“I… suppose,” Yamato said. “Why?”

Naruto scratched his stomach absently. “Well, um, I was kinda thinking about when I’m Hokage, and I wanna make it so kids are safer if they don’t have parents and stuff. So I was gonna talk to Grandma Tsunade about that. But if you’re gonna make a whole hospital, maybe you’ll have tips on how to make all those geezers on the council agree with you. Cuz I think we need to make sure no one else ends up like me, yanno. Or Sasuke.”

Yamato blinked at how solemn Naruto was. He was talking about becoming Hokage like it was a sure deal now. It wasn’t something he had to convince himself or other people that he was worthy of. Naruto was going to be Hokage and everyone had accepted this. “Of course I’ll tell you how it goes. And I’ll help you with your project when the time comes. I’m sure the Godaime will support you.”

“Sure,” Naruto said with a grin. “Thanks, Captain Yamato!”

“Just Yamato,” Yamato said. “Retired, remember?”

“Yeah, sure,” Naruto said. Yamato knew he’d never remember to drop the ‘Captain’—he was still calling Kakashi “sensei” and Tsunade “Grandma.” He’d just have to get used to it from Naruto.

As he was slipping on his shoes, Yamato had a sudden thought. “Naruto, are you going on any missions soon?”

Naruto frowned. “Uhhh not really. I was gonna try and officially make chunin. So then I can make jonin, yanno. Gotta do one before the other, even though I did help save the world and stuff. Even Kakashi-sensei had to take chunin exams before he made jonin, right?”

“Yes,” Yamato said. “Since you’ll be around, would you like to help me with the early part of my project?”

“Uh, I guess,” Naruto said. His brow wrinkled. “I dunno how much help I’m gonna be, though. I dunno much about brain stuff or feelings.”

“That’s fine,” Yamato said. “What would really help me is if you could get some of your peers who are good at emotional dissection.”

Naruto blinked, then a slow grin spread across his face, warping the lines on his cheeks. “Yeah! I know just who to talk to!”

Yamato sat on one side of Iruka’s dining room table. The other side was not as crowded as it should have been, since Yamato had extended the dimensions of the table the minute he saw how many people there were going to be; Ino, Choji, Sakura, Sai, Naruto, and Iruka were all facing him. Choji was eating his way through a bag of chips with a ruthless efficiency. His crunching was the only sound in the room.

“I need your help,” Yamato said, because he had to start somewhere. “I feel that PTSD is present in the ninja world to the point where shinobi do not understand that it’s a disorder, but simply believe it’s how people function normally. There are issues of anger management and reasonable responses to situational concerns that I would ideally like to address as well, but PTSD is, in the wake of the recent war, perhaps the most…urgent.” Personal, Yamato privately added. They didn’t need to know that right now, though. “You six are currently some of the most well-connected ninjas in the village.”

“Couldn’t get Shikamaru, huh?” Choji said, and ate another chip.

“Actually, he speaks highly of your empathy, Choji,” Yamato corrected him.

Choji’s crunching faltered. “O-oh.”

“It’s always been one of your greatest strengths,” Iruka agreed.

“Duh,” Ino said. She reached over and squeezed Choji’s arm. “Everyone knows you’re the nicest one in Ino-Shika-Cho, if not the nicest in the whole village.”

“I think Lee’s nicer,” Naruto said. Sakura smacked him on the shoulder. “OW! I mean, yeah, you’re a friendly guy, yanno. That hurt, Sakura.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Sakura said primly. Iruka gave her a wide-eyed look that she completely missed because she was waving for Yamato to continue.

Yamato barely suppressed a smile at the realization that Iruka really thought his Ninja-War-tested students didn’t use bad words. He cleared his throat to cover for himself, then said, “Thank you, Sakura. As I was saying, Choji has great potential to be a part of this plan. Ino is well-connected with the Yamanaka family and may be able to get us a few people to help discuss repressed memories, memory therapy, things like that. Sai, you are in a unique position to offer insight into the ANBU emotional brainwashing and some tactics on how to overcome those barriers. Sakura, you’re a part of the hospital world and know what kinds of facilities we may need, and you most likely know some patients who could benefit from our treatment. And you know Lady Tsunade very well, that may help with funding. Iruka-sensei, Naruto speaks highly of your teaching ethic and your empathy—”

“What?” Naruto said, bewildered.

“Iruka-sensei thinks teaching’s super important and he feeds you on a regular basis,” Sakura said.

Iruka scowled at the translation but Yamato quickly stepped in. “You’ll likely have some valuable information about the younger generation, too, and how they handle traumatic situations. And finally, Naruto.”

Naruto beamed.

Yamato drew a breath, thinking quickly. “Your… enthusiasm is an inspiration. And your status in the village will be an asset when we start up our programming and need people to participate. You are a key member,” he added, because Naruto was looking bewildered again. “You’re going to convince people to come talk to us. Kakashi-senpai is also going to take on that role, but he’s…busy. Currently.”

“Bet he’s sleeping,” Naruto grumbled.

Yamato knew Kakashi was, in fact, sleeping. He’d made it very clear that he wasn’t going to be waking up before noon for anything other than a mission, he wouldn’t be coming to any meetings about this, and he didn’t want to talk about it, though he would do his part. That was probably the best Yamato was probably going to get under the circumstances.

“I’d like to see who’s interested,” Yamato said. “Are any of you uncertain of what role you’d play?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Does anyone want to bow out of the project?” Yamato asked. He knew his face and voice were calm (he was ex-ANBU, of course he looked calm) but his heart-rate was increasing. This was him asking six very busy shinobi for a huge chunk of their time.

They all simply stared at him, though.

Yamato cleared his throat again. “Well then. Let’s come up with a plan.”

Yamato dropped a three-hundred-fifty page report on the Hokage’s desk three weeks later. It was handwritten, because the computers in the library were hard to reserve time on and sometimes lost all your data anyway. He’d gotten plan outlines from every other involved party, though he’d had to transcribe Naruto’s for him because Naruto’s handwriting, spelling, grammar, punctuation, and general structural coherence were shit. Iruka had kindly donated a three-ring binder to hold all the documents.

Tsunade looked at the lump of papers with an expression of utter horror.

Sai had gone through it and written up a condensed summary that was only twenty-three pages, and this Yamato placed on top. “Since your time is valuable.”

“Oh gods, thank you,” Tsunade groaned. She flipped through the summary, tracing certain phases with one cherry-red nail. Her eyebrows drew together tightly in thought.

Shizune appeared over her shoulder and deftly stole the three-hundred-page binder from underneath the smaller packet, then started reading.

Both of them looked up at the same time. “You want another hospital?” they said in unison, Shizune amused and Tsunade cold.

“Yes,” Yamato said.

“I’d ask where you’re gonna put the fucking thing but you know the zoning laws of Konoha better than anyone,” Tsunade said. “Why do you think we need more than one hospital?”

“Technically it would be more like an outpatient clinic,” Yamato said. “Though there would be wards for people who wish to stay in a safe place for long-term recovery.”

“Interesting,” Shizune said.

“No fucking way,” Tsunade said.

“Why not?” Yamato said.

“Yes, Lady Tsunade, why not?” Shizune said. She sounded much angrier about it than Yamato.

Tsunade looked up at her aide with raised eyebrows. “Oh, you like this idea? One hospital isn’t enough for the Village Hidden in the Leaves, they need two to keep their ninjas in shape? That’s what they’ll be saying about us in the other nations, you realize.”

“Why does it matter what they say?” Yamato said. “We’re at peace. It doesn’t matter if this is perceived as a weakness. We’re on good terms with all of the other major hidden villages. This is about mental health. You’re subscribing to a stigma that we are going to have to work very hard to dispel.” As he spoke, Yamato could sense Shizune slipping away. She vanished into her office in his peripherals but he didn’t turn his head to watch her. He kept his eyes on the Hokage.

Tsunade glared at him. “You and your six chunin—and Naruto, who’s still a genin—are going to take on this project?”

“We will hopefully have help from other expert shinobi and civilians,” Yamato said. “I will be the only one overseeing this full-time. After all, I suddenly have a significant amount of time to spend however I want.”

Tsunade slumped back in her chair and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Shit. I know I sound like the council, but they’re gonna take me apart over this. With every argument I just had for you, but they won’t be persuaded to see the sense in your plan.”

“I’m willing to plead my own cause with them,” Yamato said. “I’m not asking for their permission, though. I’m asking for yours.”

“I’m not the king of Konoha,” Tsunade said. “We have a council for a reason.”

“We need to have a new election,” Yamato said. “And soon.”

“Yeah, no way the geezers’ll let that happen,” Tsuande said, smirking.

“Their point of view is outdated,” Yamato said.

Tsunade barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there.” She thumped her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers. “All right. You make a good case for this. You make a thorough case, if that saga Shizune took with her is any indication. I agree it’s a pretty important endeavor and you’re probably the best ninja for the job, and not just because you’re the only ninja who wants the job. You’ll do this right.”

She leveled a stare at him that clearly communicated that he’d better do this right. Yamato nodded once in response to her unasked question.

The door to the office banged open. An ANBU agent puffed into existence at Tsunade’s side, but even the ANBU took a step back at the wave of ominous intensity radiating off the small woman with the purple cheek tattoos.

“So I hear there’s some debate about getting ninja therapy,” Nohara Rin said. Her voice was eerily calm, off-hand in the way Kakashi sounded when he was seconds from committing murder.

“Not really, Doctor Nohara,” Yamato said quickly. “It’s fairly settled here. I may have to plead my case with the council but the Hokage has agreed—”

“I want in,” Rin said.

Yamato kept his face carefully blank. “You want to be a part of this effort?”

“Yeah,” Rin said. “You gonna get Kakashi to agree to it?”

Yamato hesitated a moment, then inclined his head.

“Wait, Kakashi’s joining you too?” Tsunade said, looking between the two of them. “Why the hell would he agree? Even the Yondaime couldn’t get him to open up after the Third Great Ninja War.”

Rin and Yamato watched each other, both of them silent.

Tsunade scowled. “Someone better be able guarantee that brat’s going to be a part of this. General Hatake’s involvement will have a lot of weight in the jonin circles.”

“I’ve asked him already,” Yamato said. “He’s on board.”

Tsunade stared at him for a long moment, her face blank. She sat back in her chair with a thump. “Holy shit,” she said, sounding stunned. “You two’re fucking.”

Yamato flinched, breaking the staring contest with Rin. The ANBU beside Tsunade stiffened. A small smile played at the corners of Rin’s mouth.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” Shizune murmured. Somehow she’d slipped back into place behind Tsunade’s right shoulder. She’d probably snuck out in the first place to contact Rin, when it seemed like Tsunade would shut the project down. As Yamato met her eye, she gave him a wink.

“If that’s all?” Yamato said.

“Yeah, get out here,” Tsunade said. She flapped her hand and stared at the ceiling. “I have to process this information. Damn.”

Yamato bowed and quickly left. Rin followed him into the hall.

“Do you have a plan of attack?” she asked him.

“Yes,” Yamato said. “I’ll have a copy sent to your office at the hospital.”

“You could come by and give me a run-down,” she said. “I make pretty good tea.”

Yamato glanced over. She was looking up at him, still with that small smile.

“I could use some dinner,” he said. “Would you care to accompany me to Rock’s Family Noodle Stand?”

“I make better noodles than they could ever hope for,” Rin said firmly. “Free meal at my place.”

Yamato’s eyes narrowed. “Did Kakashi put you up to this?”

“A little bit,” Rin said with a shrug. She grinned. “It’s cute how he worries about you.”

Yamato sighed. “Let me stop by my apartment to get my notes and then yes, I will join you for dinner.”

“Excellent!” she said happily. “I’ll pick up dessert at the corner store. See you in half an hour!” She took a running start to dive out the nearest window. Yamato watched her turn the dive into a roll that ended with her somersaulting the length of a roof, then launching herself on to the next rooftop and away. She had a rather flamboyant style to her movements that reminded Yamato of young genin, right when they’d learned how to use their bodies to the fullest physical extent and they wanted to run, to leap and move, to chakra-stick themselves to everything just for the sheer joy of defying physics. Rin seemed to have held on to that joy. In contrast with ANBU movement training, where every wasted movement was punished, it was refreshing.

Yamato allowed himself a momentary smile and then walked at a much more leisurely pace, hands in pockets, through the streets of Konoha. He still wasn’t quite ready to throw himself back into being a ninja.

Kakashi came home unexpectedly early from his mission that night—it had only been a week. Yamato was dozing when he came in but he lurched to his feet as Kakashi ducked through the window.

“Hey, Tenzo,” Kakashi said softly.

“Why are you whispering?” Yamato asked him.

Kakashi shrugged. “It’s past everyone’s bedtime. I can be courteous.”

“Not often.”

“Ouch, Tenzo. Ouch.” Kakashi pulled off his forehead protector and shirts, baring his face. He tugged on the oversized Konoha flame T-shirt they’d found to replace their old sleep shirt before ducking into the bathroom.

Yamato sat down cross-legged with his back against the headboard. It had been his position before Kakashi had come in. It was the only way he could sleep at the moment. Before the Fourth Great Ninja War, Yamato had slept sitting up while he was on missions but in the apartment with Kakashi that he could lie down without fear. Now, though, lying down reminded him of caves and leeching chakra and the empty terror of knowing no one was coming. Better to avoid it.

Kakashi slid between the sheets of their bed pantsless as well as maskless. “I have enough energy for some mutual handjobs if you want,” he offered, propping his head up on one hand.

“Not tonight,” Yamato said. He’d been saying that for a while now.

“Is it cool if I jerk it, then?” Kakashi said.

Yamato smiled and closed his eyes. “Go right ahead.”

There was a rustling of sheets on the other side of the bed, then the mattress shifted. Yamato leaned into Kakashi’s hand when it fell on his shoulder. Lips brushed the very edge of his mouth, and then Kakashi dropped away and Yamato popped back up into his seated position, fighting back an even wider smile.

“Night,” Kakashi said.

“Sleep well,” Yamato said. He dozed off again before Kakashi could get his hands down his own underpants.

Rin came over for dinner and brought Guy and Iruka with her. Yamato blinked at the three of them, then went to make the living room table bigger.

Kakashi claimed the entire couch for himself, sprawled across the worn pillows with a book held a few inches from his nose. Rin completely ignored all of the unsubtle signals that Kakashi wanted his space and immediately sat on his feet. Kakashi’s tired-sounding whine carried all the way to the kitchen and made Yamato smile at the rice he was folding into the stir fry. Then Guy’s booming tones joined in, and Rin started laughing, and Iruka started getting louder and louder as he asked them all to quiet down.

Yamato poked his head out of the kitchen and said, “Come serve yourselves.”

Things calmed down when everyone was eating. Rin still insisted on sitting on Kakashi’s feet. Yamato, Iruka, and Guy all took seats across from them.

“What’s it like living with that moody asshole?” Rin asked Guy.

Guy’s wide, honest eyebrows wrinkled. “Who are you speaking of, Medic Rin?”

“Sasuke,” Iruka said with a sigh.

Guy’s puzzlement cleared. “Ah! The Uchiha boy has been a most interesting living companion. He is quite reserved at the moment but it is understandable considering what he’s been through. He leaves to train at the same time I do, though he has firmly refused to join me and my students at the training grounds.” Guy frowned slightly. “He has also not yet purchased his round of fresh toilet paper. Or his own food.”

“You’re in charge of feeding him?” Rin said, shocked. “Is the village at least giving you a stipend?”

Guy didn’t answer but his eyes slid sideways and he looked decidedly guilty. He crammed another wad of stir-fried rice into his mouth.

“You should request funds,” Iruka said. “You’re his parole officer, after all.”

“He was imprisoned for less than a week!” Guy protested.

“You sound like Naruto,” Iruka sighed. “So many excuses.”

“Another disciple of Naruto’s religion, Excuse and Rehabilitate Sasuke? Perish the thought,” Rin muttered. She and Iruka snickered.

“Do people visit him?” Yamato asked.

There was a silence.

“He’s not really the kind of person you visit,” Rin said at last.

“He wouldn’t accept visitors anyway,” Iruka said.

“Only Naruto comes by with any regularity,” Guy admitted. “And more often than not the Uchiha boy turns him away. It is most disheartening.”

Yamato glanced around the table and realized he was the only one here who had never encountered Uchiha Sasuke in person. And Kakashi still hadn’t said anything.

The rest of the meal was quiet. Yamato was the first to finish eating (Guy would have been first but he was a man who took thirds and fourths at every meal). He pulled out the idea map of psychiatric hospital plans and unrolled it on the floor.

“I’m going to be contacting a few of the civilian academics whose research I’ve found most useful,” Yamato said, waving another list written up in Sai’s flawless handwriting. “This is my current plan for shinobi involvement. I’m going to work to get as many people in the younger generation involved as possible. We need to get the idea of psychiatric evaluation normalized for future ninja. Kakashi-senpai and Guy, that’s your mission.”

“Yes!” Guy said, spraying rice across the table. Kakashi was eating with his back to the room and merely grunted.

“Iruka, your task is shinobi who are even younger. Pre-genin need to know this is an option. I may try to have a branch on alternative career counseling to counteract the idea that the only way a shinobi can serve is by dying for the village. I will be waiting on that until after we’ve gotten the psychiatric hospital built and have established its merit.”

“Got it,” Iruka said.

“Doctor Nohara, you’re going to try and get people who come to you to understand the value of therapy,” Yamato said. “You’ll see people after they’d been injured or suffered some major trauma. Getting them to the psychiatric hospital isn’t a requirement for field recertification—yet—but it never hurts to present it to people. You don’t have to pressure them, obviously, but—”

“Yeah,” Rin said. “I can spin it.”

“Excellent,” Yamato said. He smiled around the table. “Thank you for your help on this project.”

“It’s worthwhile,” Rin said. “Wish they’d had it when we were kids. We might’ve ended up less fucked up than we are.” She rested a hand on the curve of Kakashi’s hip. He swatted her hand off of him and yanked his feet out from under her, curling up more tightly with his back to them all.

“My student, Rock Lee, has expressed an interest in this endeavor,” Guy said quickly. “Is there some way he could participate?”

Yamato watched Rin’s face smooth into something cooly disinterested. She slid off the couch and knelt at the table like the rest of them.

“I’ve seen a civilian study which concluded that exercise has a positive effect on endorphin levels,” Yamato said, refocusing on Guy. “I could get Sai to write up a copy and have that sent over to Lee. He could come up with a few levels of physical work and teach some meditation and stretching techniques that have helped him personally.”

Guy’s smile was blinding. “I’m sure he would be delighted, Captain Yamato!”

“Just Yamato,” Yamato said.

Guy blinked. “ ‘Just,’ you say?”

“Oh, that’s right, I’d heard you’d retired,” Iruka said, glancing at Rin.

“It’s more I’m taking a semi-permanent leave of absence,” Yamato said.

“I haven’t noticed you at the training grounds since your return,” Guy said, the solemnity in his voice jarring after an evening full of his boisterous personality. “It has been several weeks. Almost a month.”

Yamato took a deep breath and reminded himself to take his own advice and talk with trusted people about his problems. “I’m not… entirely comfortable using chakra at the moment.”

“Chakra hoarding,” Rin said. When all the men looked at her, Kakashi actually rolling over to fix her with his eye, she shrugged. “That’s what we call it at the hospital. It usually happens when someone gets drained for the first time. They end up always asking about their levels and stuff, trying to hang on to every scrap of chakra they can just in case it fades away again. Your situation was extreme, of course. It wasn’t in your control, after all.”

“No,” Yamato said softly. “It wasn’t.”

Rin gave him a small, comforting smile. “You just have to build up to using ninjutsu again. You have Wood Style. We’re going to need you for building the psych hospital, or else we’ll be here for over a year.” Her smile turned teasing at the corners. “Get Naruto to train with you, he’s the ultimate motivator.”

Yamato huffed out a laugh. “Yes, he would probably agree to that without much persuasion on my part.”

“ ‘Course he would,” Rin said, smacking his shoulder. Her hand lingered for a moment, offering a gentle squeeze. “But hey, we still have to get all the staff lined up and all that. Send out your letters to civilians, try some water or earth style to test your jutsu limits and get comfortable again… You’re gonna be fine.”

Yamato nodded. “Thank you, Doctor Nohara.”

“You know Rin’s okay, right?” she said.

Yamato ducked his head. “Thank you, Rin.”

“Hey, we’ll get out of here and get to work on our pieces,” Iruka said. He patted Yamato’s other shoulder as he rose.

“Indeed!” Guy cried. He skipped the comforting pats and pulled Yamato into a crushing hug that lasted long enough for Yamato to feel his ribs bending, and then it was over. Guy was looking at him with misty eyes and an earnest smile. “You may count on us, Cap— I mean, Yamato!”

Yamato waved them out the door and shut it behind them. Then he turned back to Kakashi, who had sat up and draped his upper body over the back of the couch. His eye was narrowed.

“What’re you going to do?” Kakashi asked. “That chakra hoarding thing doesn’t sound good.”

Yamato leaned back against the door. He pressed his palms to the wood, which was cool but never cold. Solid but not unforgiving. “I have a plan. I’ll be all right.”

“Really,” Kakashi said. “Because I noticed a long time ago that you won’t use so much as taijutsu. And you haven’t even tried to kiss me in a month.”

“I haven’t had to use ninja abilities yet,” Yamato said. “It’s unnecessary.” He pressed his hands harder against the wood and added, “But the kissing… I have missed it.”

“So why not go for it?” Kakashi asked, pulling himself to kneel, his forearms propping him up on on the back of the couch. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been… uncomfortable,” Yamato admitted.

“Why? With what?”

“I had to be saved,” Yamato said. “I was helpless. And dying. I could feel that… tipping over. You must have felt it too, when Pain…” It was hard to put the thoughts together now. He forced his hands to relax against the door. He shook his head to clear it. “I haven’t felt like myself.”

“Have you been sleeping?” Kakashi asked. He stood and dodged around the couch, moving slowly towards Yamato as if Yamato was only seconds from fleeing.

“No,” Yamato admitted. “A few hours a night.”

“Sitting up,” Kakashi said.

“Sitting up,” Yamato agreed.

Kakashi reached out with one long finger to trace from the right edge of Yamato’s jaw up to his hairline, across his forehead, and down his left cheek. “You haven’t been wearing your faceplate.”

“No,” Yamato said.

Kakashi’s fingers rested under his bare chin. “You bought civilian clothes.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to be a ninja anymore.”

“…I don’t know.”

“You’re scared I’d leave someone who’s not a ninja.”

“Scared is a strong word.”

Kakashi’s visible eyebrow rose. “Is it the wrong word?”

Yamato dropped his gaze. It was admission enough.

“I’m not leaving,” Kakashi said.

“Not right now, no,” Yamato said.

“Not any time that I can foresee,” Kakashi said.

Yamato sighed. “Normally I’m better at talking about things like this.”

“You are,” Kakashi agreed.

“I was just worried— No, you’re right, scared is the right word. Scared you’d think less of anyone who isn’t a ninja. Rin mentioned—”

“Rin’s wanted me to quit being a shinobi since we were ten,” Kakashi said, “but it’s all I know how to do and it’s all I can do for the people I care about. You can do a lot of things, though. You’re busier than ever. You’re doing something important because you want to see it done and done right. That’s all that really matters to me.”

Yamato looked up and found Kakashi’s eye crinkling at him. He reached up hesitantly and, when Kakashi didn’t move, pulled the man’s mask down. There was a small, crooked smile waiting for him.

“Ah,” Yamato said softly. He pressed forward and kissed him. He meant it to be gentle but he leaned in with a bit more force and perhaps a little more heat than he’d anticipated and, well. Relief was suddenly quite the aphrodisiac.

Kakashi had his hands in his pockets as he moved up to the podium. That meant he’d once again lost the notecards Yamato had carefully prepared for him. Yamato blew out a frustrated breath. He wrote the speeches ahead of time to make Kakashi’s life easier, but that man insisted on the hard way.

Kakashi leaned up to the mike, a slow tilt of his gravity that looked precarious but somehow had a dancer’s balance to it. “Uhhh,” he started, and flinched at the feedback. The crowd in front of him shifted and muttered amongst themselves.

Kakashi cleared his throat and started again. “Well. I. Uh. War sucked.”

In the back of the crowd, Yamato pressed a hand to his forehead and let air hiss between his teeth.

“And being a ninja fucks up your brain,” Kakashi continued, not batting an eyelid. “But. It feels less fucked up when you talk to someone. So yeah, please support the new psych division and also use it.”

When Yamato looked up, Kakashi’s eye caught him. He could read the expression there perfectly. Tenzo, am I done yet? Can I go?

“Thank you, General Hatake!” Yamato called, and started clapping as he wormed his way through the crowd and up the steps of the low platform they’d erected in front of the Uchiha Memorial Psychiatric Hospital. If there was one thing you could trust, it was that a crowd would join in a clap, and soon there was a storm of applause as Kakashi slouched his way off the stage.

Yamato clasped his hands on the podium and looked out at the sea of people who were here for the official opening. He could see Naruto, his arm hooked around the shoulders of a man who was as pale and dark-haired as Sai, but with a cold-eyed stare that Sai couldn’t match even on the worst days. Naruto was grinning wide enough to cancel that blank face out, though. Yamato could see Sai murmuring to Sakura a little bit behind Naruto and his friend. She was rolling her eyes and grinning. Rock Lee stood by her side, bandaged hands clasped under his chin as he looked up at Yamato with those earnest, serious eyes.

As he looked around the crowd, drawing a breath before his opening speech, Yamato could see quite a few shinobi he knew. He could see Rin with her head on Iruka’s shoulder, his arm around her waist. He saw Ino and Choji and Shikamaru giving him their full attention. Guy was all but dancing in place with excitement.

Yamato could also see the civilians he’d brought in for this project, the therapists and researchers whom he’d called upon to help him launch this project. Tsunade and Shizune were here, and so were the ancient council members with their sour-lemon expressions.

The sun filtered through the clouds, watery and thin, but strong enough to warm the top of Yamato’s head. He smiled at all these faces turned towards him. He waved an arm behind him, at the building he’d constructed just a few days ago, on the ground where the Uchiha Quarter of Konoha had stood before Pain's attack cleared the area.

“Welcome, all,” he began.