Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Namikaze Zenitsu was an embarrassment. He cried all the time. His screeches could wake the dead. And he was a shameless, no-good coward. Zenitsu likes to think that he's quite normal actually. Everyone else is weird. Also, anyone would look like a remorseless good-for-nothing when compared to his twin.

Namikaze Minato is everything good and brave and clever. Zenitsu will be the first to tell anyone that. He adores his brother - worships the ground that he walks on. Minato is so good that he makes decent shinobi look like chumps. And alright, maybe Zenitsu is more than rightfully proud of this. Most would even call his fraternal pride as obnoxious and infuriating. But Minato is just so damn cool that Zenitsu can't help himself.

That is why Zenitsu swore an oath - from the moment he could make full sense of his memories, Zenitsu made it his divinely ordained mission to protect Namikaze Minato at all costs. He thinks that he would have done so even if Minato ended up being a complete bastard (like his previous brother). But he lucked out this time for sure because Minato makes loving him easy.

Really, Minato had been the only good thing he got in this new life as an older brother. And yes, he was the older twin. Everyone takes one look at how they act and they immediately think that Zenitsu is the younger one. But no. Zenitsu is older and Tanjiro always told him that the eldest brother endured for the sake of their siblings. And oh boy, Zenitsu sure was enduring - he is enduring a lot.

Minato is a great kid and all, Zenitsu has no complaints there. Except Minato also had the funny and extremely stupid idea to become a shinobi. Now Zenitsu did eventually become good friends with Uzui - yeah, it surprised him too. Over cups of sake and a half moon, Zenitsu learned the horror of Uzui's childhood as a son of a shinobi clan. So Zenitsu was fully aware that becoming a shinobi was bad news.

But Minato would not be convinced otherwise. He wanted to help - to be more than another war orphan. Seriously?! Argh! To hell with good guys! They're always like "But Zenitsu, we have to do something!" Then they charge in and nearly die like five times, giving Zenitsu like a million heart attacks, but somehow they always pull through. Of course, in the end, they save the day. They always do.

Zenitsu never stood a chance at stopping Minato. Even if the shinobi lifestyle was cruel and twisted, this was the only way a pair of war orphans could start making a difference. And Minato wanted to change things so bad - he really really did. That meant Zenitsu folded like wet paper and shinobi they became - literally the one career that made protecting Minato an almost impossible task.

Everyone knew that Zenitsu was a bad fit for the job. He was a bad fit at his previous job too so maybe he should just never work ever. He's definitely more suited to becoming some rich lady's trophy husband. But alas! Woe is he! To be surrounded by noble martyrs!

Zenitsu nearly failed out of the Academy three times if not for Minato patiently but firmly training with him day in and day out. He sucked at taijutsu - too scared to fight back. He sucked at shurikenjutsu - always cutting up his fingers. He was okay in theory classes where blunt memorization could clear him through most written exams. He still has the fantastic phonographic memory from before, thankfully. And his ninjutsu was so-so, nothing to brag about for sure.

Compared to Minato, he really lagged behind. This worked out in his favor. It turns out the top of the class and the dead last were always paired for the genin teams. And of course, Minato was going to be the top. So Zenitsu happily ended up on the same team. He knows the senseis had reservations about putting twins on the same team, but they also didn't want Zenitsu dragging down recruits with actual potential. In any case, Minato was already used to handling him - or so they told themselves. Zenitsu heard their little coffee break conversations in the teacher's lounge. So at least his crybaby reputation could be of some use.

He said as much to Minato. His twin looked at him with a pinched expression, his sound turning sour. Ah. Yeah. Maybe Minato didn't want to be stuck with him either. Zenitsu can't blame him. But. Well.

Zenitsu refuses to leave his side. Minato's shinobi career may suffer from his continuous presence. And Minato, himself, may come to bitterly resent him (like Kaigaku). But that doesn't matter. None of that matters. Minato can hate him all he likes as long as he's alive to hate him. Zenitsu can - Zenitsu will handle it.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Their teacher is awesome. Zenitsu thinks so. He's got his priorities in order. Namely, he shares Zenitsu's appreciation for the female form. Jiraiya-sensei teaches him many things - many, many, many things. Minato tries to run interference, especially if one of them gets a bright idea. But when there's a will, there's a way and when there's women, there's always a will.

Through two lifetimes, a pretty girl remains the best motivator for Zenitsu. Jiraiya-sensei approves, very vocally. Sometimes, it's a good thing. During training sessions or extended missions, Jiraiya keeps Zenitsu in line by bribing him. Like if Zenitsu stays on his best behavior, which means zero whining or screeching, then Jiraiya will take him along to his favorite cabaret houses. Or if Zenitsu does extra laps or extra ninjutsu practice, then Jiraiya will show him the best "sightseeing" spots.

Other times, it's a bad thing. Jiraiya-sensei gets impatient which means Zenitsu gets his reward before he actually completes the task at hand. Or Zenitsu convinces Jiraiya to reward him anyway through a combination of complaints or appeals such as pointing out all the fun they could already be having if Jiraiya wasn't being such a stiff.

Somehow, despite excessive chicanery, Jiraiya does manage to teach them. Minato gets introduced to fuinjutsu. Their third teammate, an easy-going Akimichi, builds up his taijutsu skills. (And yeah, their team didn't get a girl member which is the height of injustice, in Zenitsu's opinion). As for Zenitsu, his stealth skills shot up, and his speed too. Except those results weren't from training. Ahem.

When Jiraiya did train him, Zenitsu went through mostly endurance exercises. He didn't seem to favor any particular discipline like his teammates and that left their sensei at a loss. Zenitsu could be good at everything as easily as he could be bad at everything. He didn't really have any drive to improve and his first instinct is always to cower or flinch. Sure, his skills improved somewhat, so now he was average at everything and not dead last. But that was it.

This drove Jiraiya nuts. He had the sinking suspicion that Zenitsu was not taking this whole shinobi thing seriously. Naturally, this means that Zenitsu needed a wake up call.

Jiraiya signs them up for a C-rank. It was an escort mission. The Second Shinobi War was still ongoing so all foot traffic was in danger from bandits or other malicious rogues. But Jiraiya figured that this would be a good introduction to the shinobi lifestyle. Maybe if Zenitsu saw what was at stake - what depended on his skills - then he'd try harder to do better.

Except nothing went as planned. Everything turned out worse and better than expected. First, they were ambushed by fellow shinobi - a ragtag bunch of deserters from the front line. All of them were more experienced at high to mid chuunin level. Second, no one on their team dies and no enemy dies either - dusted up and bruised for sure but absolutely nothing fatal. In this way finally, Jiraiya got to see exactly what Zenitsu could specialize in. It's just too bad the kid had absolutely no clue. And even if Zenitsu knew, he would be extremely opposed to it.

Jiraiya and his team successfully escorted their client to the intended destination. The mission was upgraded from C to B rank. They were congratulated on a job well done. Jiraiya stayed behind to discuss matters with his sensei.

Zenitsu could hear the roiling, bubbling sound coming from Jiraiya-sensei. He knew exactly what they planned to talk about. Without saying a word, he reaches over and clasps Minato's hand. This is it. This is how he loses his twin. They will never be allowed to work together again. Minato squeezes his hand.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Despite everything that everyone seems inclined to believe, Namikaze Minato adored his older brother. There wasn't a hint of resentment towards Zen-nii, even if everyone thinks that he was keeping Minato from fulfilling his potential. Mostly because that was patently false. Zen-nii made him better - always, all the time, in more ways than one.

Sure, Zen-nii was a troublemaker through and through. If Minato wasn't chasing him away from the newest love of his life, then he was bullying (gently) him to train more. He was loud - incessantly noisy and needy, running away from the smallest hint of hardship.

But Minato also understood that he was steadfast and loyal and honest to a nose-breaking point. Back at the Academy, whenever an older kid took offense at some no-name civie taking all the glory, Zen-nii was his first and staunchest defender. Of course, everyone thought he was just sucking up to his obviously more successful brother. They didn't know that Zen-nii, with his keen hearing, heard all the awful rumors about them. They didn't know that Zen-nii came home with fresh bruises - obviously not from sparring - which he played off as a result of his clumsiness. They didn't know that Zen-nii never let a word of the worst reach his ears, always distracting Minato with pleas for tips and extra tutoring sessions, getting him as far away from all those who wished him misfortune.

It went beyond the school grounds too. As orphans, they never had enough to live on. So Zen-nii snuck off every now and again to go play outside some smoky dive bar. He'd lay out a tin can and play music for all the drunkards, already loose from the liquor and more willing to part with their coin. Some bars outright hired him after hearing him play. Of course, the work took most of the night so by morning, he always ended up asleep during class.

Zen-nii always tried to take care of Minato this way. But he also cared for others as much as he could. Whenever he heard a clan born picking on a clueless civie or even when newbie genins tried to throw their weight around academy students, Zen-nii would try his level best to stop them. He would quake and quiver the whole time, but he never backed down, not when he had people to protect.

When the other kids started picking on Kushina for her hair, Zenitsu called them dumb idiots for not appreciating the beauty unique to each woman. Kushina broke his nose for that, blushing the whole time.

Okay, that may not have been the best example. Zen-nii wasn't on his best behavior around girls and women. He always went all gooey around them. Oh, he recognized their prowess and never considered them wilting flowers in need of rescue. He would sooner ask them to rescue him than ask a boy for help. But neither was he capable of acting normal around any of them. In his words, he just loved them too much so his love just spills out. Terrible phrasing, all things considered but well.

Kushina never really warmed up to Zen-nii. But neither did she ignore him outright. He very vocally argued against anyone picking on her for being foreign. Kushina appreciated that. But then he turned around and went all schmoopy whenever he actually caught sight of her. Kushina hated that. To sum up their relationship, Kushina loved to hate him so Zen-nii just took that and ran with it. They were oddly comfortable with each other this way. Minato may be a teensy bit jealous about that.

There really was a lot to admire about his older brother. But what Minato adored the most - the best thing about Zen-nii is something secret even from Zen-nii himself. Oh Minato tried to tell him, explaining at length time after time. But Zen-nii just couldn't be convinced. He firmly believed that he was awful at everything and Minato was good at everything and honestly, who's ever heard of sleep sparring or sleep fighting?

Sure, sleep talking - Zen-nii knows about that. But when Minato tells him that he kicks Minato's ass - every night even, Zen-nii would say that Minato has to stop lying so much before it becomes a habit and he gets into trouble. Zen-nii's absolute convinction in his lack of worth is the one thing that Minato hates about his brother.

Because Zen-nii was incredibly strong, equally prodigal when it comes to combat. He could do this breathing technique where he'd hiss out air and then whoosh! Bam! Pow! He would run circles around Minato, pushing him to get faster just to land one hit on his brother or to avoid his brother from "hitting" him.

Zen-nii still doesn't like fighting even when asleep. But unlike when he's awake, he doesn't just stand around like a sitting duck. He weaves, he side steps, bouncing from one move to the next, until Minato finds the edge of his brother's hand against his throat. That's how Minato loses because he knows if his brother's hand had been a blade or if his brother just flat out chopped the soft hollow of his neck, then Minato would already be dead.

During their waking hours, his teachers would praise his speed after every taijutsu fight. Minato would claim that Zen-nii taught him to move that fast. His teachers scoffed. His classmates scoffed. And of course, Zen-nii himself scoffed. Minato had to bite his tongue before some very mean words left his mouth.

When graduation rolled around and Zen-nii got marked as dead last, oh Minato was very tempted to lose it - especially when Zen-nii seemed almost comforted by it. But his brother was not dead last material! How did no one notice? Zen-nii must have heard his frustration because his older brother could do stuff like hear emotions or pick out when someone's lying. And he looked a bit sad so Minato immediately felt like an asshole. He tried to act happy that at least this way he won't be separated from his brother. But the damage was done.

Minato swore to somehow convince their teacher that Zen-nii was more than what he seemed. Maybe he'll have better luck on a three-man team where their teacher was supposed to be more dedicated to their individual growth. He had been looking forward to finally getting someone to acknowledge his brother's potential.

Jiraiya-sensei both exceeded and disappointed his expectations. In the words of the Hokage, Sensei and Zen-nii got along like a house on fire. They were cut from almost the exact same cloth - dead last losers with a love for women. But the main difference was that Jiraiya took pride in his excellence. He was one of Lord Third's students. He was a war veteran. He understood his worth. Zen-nii took pride in his weakness. He was a nobody. He was a useless coward. He refuses to believe that he has worth.

Minato nursed the hope that maybe Zen-nii would learn from Jiraiya-sensei's example. And he did, just not the stuff that Minato actually wanted him to learn. So now Minato was saddled with twice the trouble as Zen-nii learned new and better ways to piss off women. Worst of all, Jiraiya-sensei still didn't have any idea how good Zen-nii actually was. Minato only managed to keep his temper because Jiraiya-sensei seemed just as frustrated.

Their new sensei honestly did want them to grow in skill and strength. He wanted to find their specialties. That's why Jiraiya-sensei got him to work on sealing and Akimichi-kun got special taijutsu lessons. He really wasn't half-assing his teaching gig. Minato recognized that even if he really would prefer that Jiraiya-sensei kept Zen-nii away from the bathhouses.

The truth of the matter is that he didn't have a clue what to do with Zen-nii but Minato knows that's only because he hasn't seen the stuff Zen-nii could do. Of course, Minato tried to explain but without any proof, Jiraiya-sensei found it hard to believe.

Then - oh and then they went out on their first C rank mission. It was supposed to be somewhat safe, maybe they fight a few bandits or scare off some wolves. But they wouldn't face actual threats like hm, maybe a rogue squad of experienced chuunin - fresh from the front lines.

Except they did. They found a squad of chunin after they defected from their platoons. They went around harassing travelers for coin and goods. Their whole plan was apparently centered on amassing wealth, ???, retiring to Hot Spring country. Clearly, their combat prowess exceeded their intellectual acuity.

So these rogue nin blocked off their path. Jiraiya-sensei was following at a distance behind them, as planned. This is the standard formation so that the team wouldn't get easily flanked. Minato wants to bet that if Jiraiya-sensei was around, then the fools wouldn't have jumped out of their perfectly good hiding spot.

The chunin do some posturing, yell a few demands, then to really drive the point home - they push out a wave of killing intent. Jiraiya-sensei hopped forward, closing the distance to interfere if necessary but remaining in the trees to observe their response. Akimichi-kun stood before the client, sweating through his shirt but keeping his fists up and feet planted. As for Zen-nii… Zen-nii fainted, dropping straight to the ground with a heavy thump.

Minato could only feel relief.

Finally.

==>

Chapter Text

Minato finds love at first sight when Jiraiya introduces him to Fuuinjutsu. There's just something special - wonderful - breath-taking about seals. Every element needs to be drafted precisely and yet each element must have room for flexibility. Each part needs to slot together perfectly and yet every part must function independently. Fuuinjutsu demands a lot of intricacy to maintain the fine balance between all of its contrasting and complementary components.

Minato likens it to how Konoha operates. They have so many clans, overflowing with rich, individual histories and traditions - fully capable of working autonomously, yet they somehow all agreed to work together as a singular entity. Well, granted they don't work perfectly together and tensions arise between clans far too often. But still the village stands somehow to this day.

It's a miracle. The village is a miracle the same way each seal is a masterpiece. He tells Zen-nii all about it, waxing poetic whenever he can. At some point, Zen-nii should have gotten bored from all his blabber, especially since Minato is fairly sure that his brother has no understanding of Fuuinjutsu at all. Yet Zen-nii is happy to listen, never stopping him from going on his long-winded rambling about a new seal Jiraiya-sensei showed him.

"Well, why would I stop you?" Zen-nii asks him when he brings it up. "Your sound gets so much louder. It's nice."

Minato knows that his brother's ears are special. Zen-nii hears things that normal people can't, like conversations three streets over, each leaf rustling on a tree, or even someone's general mood and intent. This means that the world is an overbearing cacophony for him. There are plenty of mornings where Minato wakes up to find Zen-nii still sleeping with one hand clamped over each ear. His brother never seems to get enough rest because the world is determined to stuff itself full of noise.

Zen-nii says that he tunes out the noise by focusing on specific sounds. Everything and everyone has a unique sound, some pleasant and others painful. Minato is blessed with a beautiful sound, like waves crashing on the shore. Zen-nii can happily focus on Minato and easily ignore the rest of the world.

It's not a foolproof method. Whenever his brother sleeps, he can no longer focus and end ups hearing everything. That's how Zen-nii does all the crazy things he does, which is cool. But Minato also wants his brother to get a good night's rest.

So one day, he offers a question to sensei.

"You wanna know about sealing people's senses?" Jiraiya-sensei echoes.

Minato nods.

Sensei hums, rubbing his chin. "Well, yeah. I could teach you that. It would be great for battle. Except you need direct and prolonged contact with the target to work. And smart as you are kid, you're just not at that level yet."

Minato shakes his head, wearing a wry grin. "It's not for combat, sensei." But he files that thought away for later.

Jiraiya-sensei raises an eyebrow. "Okay. I'll bite. What are you scheming?"

Minato allows his grin to grow, softening at the corners into a proper smile. He proceeds to explain exactly what he had in mind.

It takes two weeks, mostly because Jiraiya-sensei uses it as a learning opportunity. He could have easily drafted the seal himself but he lets Minato try his hand at it, then try and try again when the first attempts inevitably fail. His little project is a modification of the standard sensory deprivation formula so Minato couldn't just blindly copy a pre-existing seal. Anyone else would consider this troublesome but well... Zen-nii fondly considered him a geek for a reason.

After nearly a hundred failures, he manages to complete the seal. It's a new invention, according to sensei, Minato's very own invention. He clutches the seal and its copy to his chest, rushing home as the sun sets behind the Hokage mountain.

Thanks to their genin stipend with mission pay, Zen-nii no longer has to supplement their allowance with night gigs at bars. So when Minato reaches home, Zen-nii is poking about the kitchen, trying to make dinner. He should be completing the extra training exercises that Jiraiya-sensei assigned him. But Zen-nii being Zen-nii...

Minato bursts into their apartment with a bang. This causes Zen-nii to screech even though he must have heard Minato from a kilometer away.

"I'm home!" Minato yells out breathlessly.

"Welcome home! Are you crazy?!" Zen-nii greets back. "What's with you? Barging in like that? Our neighbors are gonna complain, ya know. Sheesh, Minato. I raised you better than this!"

Their neighbors do complain often but mostly because of Zen-nii. It's completely hypocritical of him to get on Minato's case when he's the main source of all the noise. But that's not important right now.

"Sorry! Sorry! I just couldn't wait to get home." Minato tucks the seals into his jacket as he toes off his shoes. "What are we having? Fish? Chicken? Oh, there was a sale on pork, right?"

Zen-nii raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching up. "Alright. Something's up."

Minato slides into the kitchen, hip checking his brother. "Hehe. Maybe."

"Are you gonna tell me?"

"After dinner."

Zen-nii side-eyes him but lets the matter rest for now. Minato can only imagine what he must sound like to his brother. Something nice, he thinks, from the way a smile slips into his brother's expression. Together, they prep an easy meal of fried pork and rice. They finish the leftover miso from this morning and round out dinner with warm tea.

When Zen-nii heads for the bath, Minato carefully sets the seals on their cleared table. Then he changes his mind and lays out the futons to place the seals on the blanket. Then he changes his mind and decides to keep the seals on hand so he can present them after Zen-nii finishes his bath. Then he thinks that's a silly idea - embarrassing, really - before returning the seals back on the table. Oh but maybe that's not -

The bathroom door clicks open and Minato whirls around and nearly guts himself on the table corner. His intestines remain safely inside his belly but there's going to be a nasty bruise.

"Oh wow, I heard you puttering around but I didn't think you'd be this jumpy," Zen-nii says, choking back a laugh. "Everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," Minato wheezes.

"Riiiiight. So you were gonna tell me something?" Zen-nii asks, idly toweling off his hair.

"Ah um yes..."

This isn't going the way he had hoped. Minato looks down at the seals clutched in each hand, the paper slightly wrinkled around the edges. With a forlorn sigh, he holds them out to Zen-nii.

"Fuuinjutsu, right?"

Minato nods. "Yeah... These - I've been working with Jiraiya-sensei to make these. I hope you like them."

Zen-nii gives him a funny look. "Minato. You didn't tell me what the seals are for."

"Oh duh! These are sensory deprivation seals, but I modified them so it's not total deprivation more like it lessens sensitivity. Me and Jiraiya-sensei made these adjustable which is real tricky because you gotta get the overlay at exact points so the chakra can transition smoothly and I had to learn a whole bunch of different -"

"Sensory deprivation seals?!" Zen-nii squeaks, cutting through Minato's runaway thoughts.

"No, no, no! Sensory sensitivity modifiers! Here, just let me show you!"

Zen-nii moves out of Minato's reach. "Wait, wait, wait! Why are you giving me seals in the first place? You're the fuuinjutsu user, not me!"

"It's not for missions! It's for sleeping!" Minato pouts. "Nii-chan! Stay put!"

Zen-nii freezes. Minato seizes his chance to stick the seals on his brother. The long, rectangular paper hangs down like a strange pair of earrings. Zen-nii certainly won't be winning any fashion shows soon. Maybe Minato can embed the seals on a smaller medium, something less conspicuous like a pair of actual earrings - possibly stud earrings. Of course, then Zen-nii would have to get his ears pierced. And his brother will never agree to that.

"It's been awhile since you called me nii-chan," Zen-nii murmurs.

Minato blinks. "What? When did I - oh." How lame. He's a professional shinobi now, not a four year old baby.

He must be making some sort of grumpy noise because Zen-nii snorts. Then he frowns, hands hovering over the seals. "Nothing's changed. I can still hear everything?"

"You can touch them. That's how the seals work. Pump chakra in and that should activate the default setting."

Minato reaches over and takes one in hand. The formula is based on Uzushio fundamentals so the signature spiral is one of its components. Minato places his forefinger on that spiral's center.

"If you want to adjust the seal's intensity, just trace this part - clockwise to increase and counterclockwise to decrease. That way you can figure out what setting suits you best. Cool, huh?"

He catches Zen-nii staring at him. The look on his brother's face reminds Minato of a bruise, aching and tender - the aftermath of a hit where it hurt. He pulls his hand away from the seal.

"Do... Do you not..."

"For sleeping, you said." Zen-nii's eyes grow wet. "Minato, did you learn fuuinjutsu so I could get a good night's rest?"

"Well, I was learning fuuinjutsu already. It's actually more like I invented a new seal." Minato rubs the back of his head, turning away from Zen-nii. "But yes. It's to help you sleep through the night."

A heavy weight tackles him and Minato barely manages to keep his footing.

"Minatooooo! You did all this for me??? How did I get such a cute baby brother? How??? It's unreal! It's incredible! I've been blessed!"

Minato laughs because he doesn't know what else to do. Gently, he returns his brother's hold, pulling him even closer.

"We look out for each other, remember. That's what you taught me. That's what brothers do."

"What a good kid. Such a good kid! The best!" Zen-nii blubbers and Minato feels a damp spot on his shirt. Ah.

Well. They were due for a load of laundry.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

At Training Ground 7, bright and early the morning after the C turned B rank mission, Jiraiya shoos away two of his students to sit on the sidelines. This leaves his most troublesome student standing before him in the middle of the field. Jiraiya hasn't even said a word but blood is already draining from the kid's face.

"Alright, brat. Today. You're gonna spar with me," he announces, nodding.

Zenitsu stares at him. "Am... Am I being punished? For passing out yesterday? Look, I'm sorry! But everyone knows that I'm a coward. Honestly, you should have been walking up front that way people knew not to mess with us. So this is actually your fault -"

Jiraiya throws a punch.

Zenitsu screeches, flailing back in a clumsy dodge. He somehow trips over his feet and falls flat on his butt. Curling into a tiny ball, he sits on the ground, cowering.

"You didn't even warn me! How mean! At least say start or something! I suck at Taijutsu! You saw my Academy grades! I need to prepare myself!"

Jiraiya stares at Zenitsu's whimpering form. This cannot be the same guy from yesterday. A muscle under Jiraiya's eye twitches. Squaring his shoulders, he looms over his student.

"Oi, get up! I know that you can do better than this! We all saw it!"

"You must have been hallucinating! Some kind of brain damage! All the blood goes to your di- eek!"

Jiraiya pinches Zenitsu's cheeks and starts stretching his face. "What was that you little snot? See if I take you with me on my research trips!"

"I'm sory! I'm sorry! Ow ow ow!"

Minato sighs and walks up to his older brother, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him up to his feet.

"Minatoooooo! Tell sensei! I'm just no good at this! He's picking on me, ya know! This is basically bullying."

Minato nods absentmindedly. One hand brushes off the dirt on Zenitsu's clothes. The other hand rifles through his pockets.

"Zen-nii, I need you to know that I'm only doing this because I love you and I want you to succeed."

"Eh?"

With one swift thrust, Minato shoves a pill down Zenitsu's throat. Then he claps his palm over his brother's mouth before tilting Zenitsu's head back and forcing him to swallow. Efficient and effortless, Jiraiya notes idly.

With a little more refinement, Minato is going to be one hell of a frontline fighter. All his kids will be. When Jiraiya got assigned his genin team, he took one look at the Akimichi with two civilian no-names, and he knew immediately their team specialty. Akimichis are front line fighters, always. They exist as the shield, tanking all the hits for the less sturdy shinobi behind them. Barring the main line, the heir who always gets paired with a Yamanaka and a Nara, all genin on a team with an Akimichi are generally considered, well... No one would mourn them too much.

That's not to say that Akimichi are cannon fodder. The clan breeds beasts, and more often than not, they return from battle. Their teammates tend not to. Unlike their Akimichi teammate, they get sent to the frontlines without the clan training or genetic predisposition to take a lot of punishment. So 2+2 equaling 4 means that Jiraiya gets two civilian kids to complete his team.

He was relieved to learn that Minato had potential pouring out every pore of his body. The kid soaked up fuuinjutsu theory the way Tsunade-hime cleared out bars. He was also markedly adaptive, easily switching and combining shurikenjutsu, ninjutsu, and taijutsu seamlessly. He is truly Rookie of the Year.

Minato would survive the frontlines. Jiraiya is slowly shaping him to provide all kinds of support - shurikenjutsu for cover fire, ninjutsu and taijutsu to engage or disengage, then fuuinjutsu for everything else needed. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the team's survival would hinge on Minato.

That of course left Minato's twin. The dead last of his graduating class and proud of it, Zenitsu was gunning for an early death. A team of frontline fighters had no room for a sniveling coward. Except that's where Zenitsu got placed. After hearing Jiraiya's endless complaints, sensei said to suck it up and train the boy if he didn't want a tragedy. And Jiraiya tried, honest he did. But Zenitsu was not making it easy.

Now - Well, now Jiraiya finally bought what Minato had been selling him - an image of his older brother as competent and strong.

So frontline teams usually have two roles. They act as either the damage deflector or as the formation breaker. As part of a formation breaker, the team gets the dubious honor of first kill in every skirmish. Jiraiya would know. His team is currently Konoha's best formation breaker.

But that might change, he thinks as he studies the now sleeping form of Zenitsu, lying flat on the ground.

"This has a 50/50 chance of working," Minato admits.

"I thought you said that your brother fights best when asleep."

"Well, I did say that. I guess to be more specific, he fights best when he's half asleep. It's kinda like when you've nodded off but you haven't started dreaming or anything. A good nudge would wake you up. That sort of thing."

"So why might it not work now?"

"The sleeping pill could've put him to sleep completely. I don't know. I've never drugged my brother before, sensei."

"Hmph. I sure hope you haven't."

Jiraiya and Minato turn to Zenitsu. The kid's got his eyes shut, but he's sitting up.

"I don't like the idea of getting drugged regularly." Zenitsu tells them, his voice flat and cold.

"There's no way. He can't be sleeping! He's totally faking it!" Jiraiya's third student chimes in, coming closer, squinting at his teammate.

Zenitsu says nothing, simply sits in the dirt, with his head tilted to one side.

"How do you propose we test that he's sleeping, Akimichi-kun?" Minato asks.

"Sleeping people don't hold conversations. Isn't that proof?"

"My brother is special."

"You keep saying that..."

"You saw it, did you not?" There's a hint of steel in Minato's voice now. "What he did yesterday - after he fainted, no ordinary shinobi could do that. Ergo, my brother is special."

"It doesn't matter, at least not right now," Jiraiya cuts in. "Zenitsu could be faking or whatever. I just need to see what the brat can do. And if this is the way to see it - then let's just get started already."

Through this whole conversation, Zenitsu remained silent. This supports Minato's claim that Zenitsu truly is asleep because the brat has never been this quiet in all the time that Jiraiya has known him.

"Shoo kids," he waves off his students.

The two boys share a look before trudging over to the sidelines and retaking their seats. Jiraiya turns to Zenitsu.

"Are you going to just keep sitting there? C'mon, up on your feet."

Zenitsu doesn't move.

"Just start, sensei!" Minato yells out. "When I train with Zen-nii, he won't do anything unless I attack him first."

That could be a problem, especially if they're trying to weaponize Zenitsu's skills. This kid just can't be straightforward. Jiraiya frowns and snaps out a kick.

Zenitsu blurs into motion. He slides under Jiraiya's leg then jumps to his feet behind him. Jiraiya spins on his heel, expecting an attack from his blindspot. But Zenitsu just stands there, eyes firmly closed, staying still. Jiraiya folds his brow then lashes out with another punch. Zenitsu side steps to the left, positioning himself perfectly for a hit but no counterattack comes.

So the brat can dodge just fine. But his aversion to fighting remains. Interesting. And to quote a Nara, troublesome. Jiraiya needs to know that Zenitsu can replicate his prowess from the last mission and dodging won't be enough for a proper assessment.

Well, this would be a first. Jiraiya usually deals with stopping people's attacks. Sometimes, he just shows his face and he is immediately greeted with some form of assault. He's never had the problem of getting someone to attack him. Of course, that seems to be the case with his most troublesome student.

Thoughts whirling in his head, Jiraiya remembers a relatively fresh memory of meeting his new genin team. They introduced themselves, stating their likes, dislikes, and if they had any goals. Two of his students had pretty standard goals, all things considered. But Zenitsu just wanted to protect his brother. For something so simple, it had a lot of problematic implications. First, this shows that Zenitsu had no loyalty towards the village, only to Minato. Second, this means that Zenitsu didn't want to be a shinobi and he won't aim to fulfill any of his shinobi duties.

Remembering all this gives Jiraiya an idea.

Narrowing his eyes at Zenitsu, Jiraiya pivots hard and starts rushing at where Minato is seated. As Jiraiya presumed, this motivates Zenitsu to act. The kid is fast and he blocks Jiraiya's attack before Minato has time to flinch. It's still not good enough. He needs Zenitsu to start playing offense. So with his next strike, to really sell the threat, Jiraiya adds an undercurrent of killing intent.

His team manages to surprise him. Akimichi shifts forward, putting himself in front of the younger Namikaze. At the same time, the older Namikaze lunges for Jiraiya with lightning - brilliant and blinding - layering over his legs. If the kid was fast before, then he's untouchable now, moving at speeds that Jiraiya could only register as a flash.

It's still years too early for a newbie genin like Zenitsu to land a hit on a veteran like Jiraiya. But damn if the kid didn't make it a real close call. He manages to dodge but only at the very last second, and far later than he was comfortable with. It would be one thing if only his pride was on the line but Zenitsu had gone straight for the jugular. The kid had his kunai in hand, and Jiraiya didn't even notice him pull it out. Raw instinct had forced Jiraiya to step back and that's good or else he would be standing there with his throat sliced open. Man, that would have been embarrassing.

Leaping away, Jiraiya puts distance between himself and his students. He notes that Zenitsu no longer had his kunai on hand, as if it had never been there. But Jiraiya definitely saw the dark sheen of its blade. Usually in such situations when there's an active threat nearby, shinobi hold onto their weapons. At least that's what normal shinobi do but Zenitsu is clearly not a normal shinobi - not a normal anything, really. What a bothersome brat.

Jiraiya pockets his killing intent. He's seen enough. Akimichi relaxes his stance. The younger Namikaze unfolds his hands from the beginning signs of a kawarimi jutsu. Good reflexes, Jiraiya notes. Of course, nothing that would actually save them if Jiraiya had really been trying for a kill.

As for the older Namikaze, he still looks asleep. A snot bubble whistles out his nose, inflating and deflating with each breath. There isn't a hint of tension on his body - nothing to indicate that he just defended his brother from mortal peril. It's not the stoic schtick either where someone projects an air of apathy. For all intents and purposes, Zenitsu truly seems to be taking a restful nap.

"Alright, so he's got skills. But none are worth shit," Jiraiya bluntly declares.

Predictably, Minato is offended. "But sensei, you saw-"

"I saw a shinobi that didn't fight back. He only did something when you were in danger. Sure, maybe he'll get hit less than you lot. But he won't be finishing any missions the way he is now. Your brother's got no initiative, kid - no motivation - no drive. And Minato, unless you start purposefully risking yourself, Zenitsu just won't help. Do you see the problem here?"

Minato scowls and says nothing.

"But that's what I'm here for. Teachers gotta teach, right?" With a wink, Jiraiya gives his students a thumbs up. "Your brother's gonna kick ass and take names, just you wait and see."

"I don't want to."

They all whip their heads toward Zenitsu. He's on his feet but continues to sleep, judging from his shut eyes and even breaths. He's much more quiet like this, to the point that they jump when hearing him speak.

"I'm here to protect Minato. I'm not here to be a good shinobi."

Minato's shoulders droop. "Zen-nii..."

"At some point, there won't be much difference in practice. Sure, we can debate theory until the gate guards go home. But at the end of it all..."

Jiraiya drops to a crouch, fitting his bulk to match Zenitsu's height. The brat isn't going to see him, but surely getting on his level means that he can hear Jiraiya better.

"To be a good shinobi is your best bet at protecting your family. You ain't a dumb kid. You know this."

Zenitsu grits his teeth, hissing out a lungful of air. There are sparks of electricity in the cloud of his breath. Jiraiya presses on, reaching forward to clap a hand on Zenitsu's shoulder.

"It's one thing to be humble, but going around denying your skills - that won't do you any favors. So why don't you wake up and smell the coffee, eh Zenitsu?"

There's a long, stretched out moment when Zenitsu does not reply. His other students hover behind him, watching their teammate with careful concern. Zenitsu pinches his brow as his mouth twists into a jagged line across his face. Jiraiya practically sees the brat's brain twist itself into knots, trying to figure it all out.

Then without warning, Zenitsu pitches forward, straight onto Jiraiya's chest. Startled, he barely manages to catch the kid, arms automatically winding around him. Jiraiya blinks and stares as Zenitsu begins to snore into the fabric of his shirt.

Minato chuckles. "He's sleeping on it, sensei. Give him more time to think."

Jiraiya feels a headache build behind his eyes. "Alright. Well, I guess that's fine. We'll be doing D-ranks for awhile. But Minato..."

Jiraiya waits for the younger Namikaze to look up and meet his gaze.

"Someday soon, we'll find ourselves fighting again. Your brother needs to have his answers before that."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Akimichi Kinoko likes spicy foods. He dislikes sweets. And his dream is to grow bigger than all of his cousins. He has a lot of cousins. It doesn't help that he's considered a runt. At ten years old, both of his teammates are taller than him, even if he weighs heavier. According to his Ma, that means his growth spurt should be soon. He just has to eat his vegetables and drink his milk. Honestly, Kinoko thinks that milk is gross but if drinking a glass every night keeps his Ma happy...

When he got assigned his team, Kinoko really didn't have much of an opinion. He got along with the Namikaze twins. Sure, Zenitsu is noisy, the worst at hide and seek. But when he's not being an idiot, he's pretty okay - kinda funny honestly. His twin is the exact opposite. Minato is quiet, the best at everything. But he's such a stiff, always sitting off to the side, reading thick books.

Kinoko knows that Minato should have graduated years earlier. But Minato played dumb which in his case meant taking the top spot by scoring just a little higher than everyone else in class. Kinoko has no clue how Minato got away with it. The teachers shoulda seen through his scheme in a second but grownups can be clueless sometimes. And there's stuff only kids know about other kids.

So when Jiraiya-sensei gives them the Bell Test, Kinoko knows right away that Minato is gonna win this for his brother. Everyone knows that the Namikazes are stuck at the hip, anywhere one brother goes, the other follows. So if only two graduates could become shinobi, then of course the twins would leave out Kinoko. That's... That's not a surprise. He's not surprised. He really shouldn't be.

Right after Jiraiya-sensei told them the test rules, the twins do their weird twin telepathy thing - which isn't real, according to the Yamanakas. But Kinoko's not so sure about that because Minato looks at Zenitsu and Zenitsu looks back at Minato then they nod. Clearly something happened between them.

Kinoko idly wonders if he should just throw in the towel. He can beat Zenitsu no problem so he's reliably sure that he could do a better job at getting those bells. But Kinoko's not against Zenitsu - the older Namikaze might as well not be part of this. Kinoko's against his younger brother and he doesn't have a chance at beating Minato.

So he's sitting in his little hidey hole, watching Jiraiya-sensei lean against a wooden post, and he thinks that yeah, alright. Another year at the Academy doesn't sound too bad. He needs more time to grow anyways. Maybe next year, he'll be the biggest guy on his team.

But when he moves to stand up, walk out, and turn himself in, two pairs of hands yank him back down to the forest floor. Kinoko finds himself flat on his back and staring up at Minato and Zenitsu. They got a weird look in their eyes - shock, he thinks, maybe confusion.

"What are you doing?" Zenitsu hisses.

"He was going to give up," Minato replies. And rude, Kinoko can answer for himself.

"Uh why?!" Zenitsu presses, far too upset for someone who's getting an easy win.

"Don't you want to be shinobi?" Kinoko asks, sitting up.

"Don't you?" Minato fires back.

"Well yeah, but c'mon!" He points at Minato. "You're not gonna let Zenitsu fail so where does that leave me? I can't go up against you."

"Then you're giving up before you've even tried?" Minato is also far more upset about this than he really should be.

"Honestly what's the big deal? You get to be with your brother! Isn't that what you want?"

"Uh, guys! Can we talk later? The timer is still ticking and our sensei sounds bored," Zenitsu tells them.

"What? How can someone sound bored?"

"Zen-nii, you said earlier that Jiraiya-sensei is lying about the test."

"He did? How does he know that?"

"Yeeeaaah… But it's not - He's not trying to be mean or harsh. He said the lie playfully."

"Uh no, he seemed pretty serious."

"That's what he wants us to think. But he's lying. I could hear it clear as a chime."

"Okay, so he's lying about the test."

"Of course you'd believe him."

"Akimichi-kun."

Kinoko feels his bones lock into place. Minato stares him dead in the eye and sweat starts to bead on Kinoko's brow.

Everyone knows that Minato knows plenty of things, that Minato has a brain bigger than his head. Except he never really had an ego to match. He speaks softly. He smiles politely. He makes it easy to forget all the smarts he has.

No one would ever forget if they saw him now. Minato is paying attention and Kinoko had not known what that meant until this very second. To have the full force of Minato's mind concentrated solely on him feels very much like staring down an arrow just before it pierces him right between the eyes.

"Let's examine the facts."

Kinoko nods mutely.

"Have you ever heard of a 2-man genin team? No. Can an academy graduate take on a jounin? No. So why would sensei say only two can pass? Why set up a test where each graduate acts alone? If he wanted us to fail, he would have done so already. Ergo, he's lying. There's more to the test than getting the bells."

Kinoko scrunches up his nose, thinking it over.

"Eh?! So then what are we supposed to do?" Zenitsu squeaks out.

Minato looks at his brother then at Kinoko then back to his brother.

"Are you guys gonna try something or what?" Jiraiya-sensei yells out. He must have moved at some point because he sounds closer. "I didn't know the Academy passed cowards. C'mon, I'm sick of watching grass grow."

Kinoko looks at Zenitsu then at Minato then back at Zenitsu. He is an Akimichi, born and bred for muscle, which means his heart is bigger than his brain. But that doesn't mean he's too thick to put the pieces together.

Zenitsu catches Kinoko looking at him and flinches, scrambling to half hide behind his younger brother.

Kinoko gives Minato an unimpressed stare. "Let's hear it then."

After two hours with a lot of screaming (Zenitsu), whining (Zenitsu), and cursing (Jiraiya), Kinoko finds himself pinned to the ground, eating dirt. Zenitsu is tied to the post, sobbing. And Minato is the only one left standing. They didn't get a bell.

Jiraiya-sensei studies the three of them before shaking his head. He rises to his feet, pulling up Kinoko by the collar of his shirt. Even at about 5 stone heavier than his teammates, their sensei casually drags him around like a stuffed toy. He shoves Kinoko towards Minato, the other boy already reaching out to steady him.

"Right, well, you lot figured it out pretty quick," Jiraiya-sensei says but he does not sound happy about it.

"Does this mean we pass?" Minato asks.

Jiraiya-sensei hums, allowing the seconds to stretch long and slow. Kinoko feels his guts twist into a hard knot. They gave it their best shot and honestly they worked pretty well together. Minato clearly calls the shots so Kinoko and Zenitsu just have to do what he says. If the whole point was cooperation, then there shouldn't be a problem, right? Right?

"Shodai have mercy, I have never seen a messier team." Jiraiya-sensei turns to Zenitsu. "How did the Academy pass you? I was joking earlier but have the standards really fallen this low? Do you even want to be a shinobi?"

Zenitsu swallows. He hangs limp against the ropes, not even attempting to break free. Somehow he manages to look Jiraiya-sensei in the eyes.

"Please let me stay on the team. I know that - that I have the worst skills. Like it's not even a contest or if it was a contest, I'd win first place as the worst. But - but - but! I can work hard! I'll train and I'll fuh-fight and I'll do my part. I will!"

"Alright." With a single, sharp sweep of his arm, Jiraiya-sensei holds a kunai over Zenitsu's throat. Then he looks over at Minato. "Kill Kinoko or your brother dies."

This is an exercise. Kinoko understands this on an intellectual level. But every nerve in his body lit up when he heard those words. He peeks at Minato out the corner of his eye. This must be how rabbits feel when they know a fox is close by.

Zenitsu turns it around on them because he leans forward and lets the blade touch the soft skin of his neck.

"You know that I'm too much of a coward to throw away my life," he says and there isn't a hint of hesitance in his voice. "But if it buys my team time, if I can get them to safety, then it's a trade that I can make."

Kinoko blinks, his jaw falling open. Except for some reason… He doesn't feel too surprised, and that's the real shocker here.

Zenitsu is a big crybaby, always shrieking at the first sign of danger or pain. That's the reason he spends taijutsu practice on the ground, shaking to pieces. But Kinoko knows that even if Minato is the smarter and stronger twin, Zenitsu never asks him to fight his battles. So there's no way that he would ever let Minato kill someone for him, even if his own life is on the line.

From the way Minato reacts, the tension settling on his shoulders and the hard line of his mouth, he expected this from his brother - expected and hated it.

Jiraiya-sensei is the only one seriously surprised by this. He pulls the kunai away, slipping it back into his pouch, before squeezing his eyes shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, you crazy kids. Meet here tomorrow. 8am sharp. We are now officially Team 7. Congratulations. You pass." Jiraiya-sensei spits out the last two words, looking like he tasted something bad. "Sensei owes me a full round of drinks for this."

Before anyone could say or do anything else, he vanishes, leaving behind a swirl of leaves and Zenitsu still stuck to the stump. Of course, this prompts him to start crying again, calling for Minato to set him free. His brother sighs then gets to work without argument or complaint.

Kinoko watches the Namikazes, focusing more on Zenitsu. He's whining about the ropes chafing his wrists. It's hard to believe this kid boldly declared that he'd die if need be. Kinoko doesn't know if he coulda done the same thing.

He knows that one day, he will. Akimichis protect. He's heard all the stories about his aunt or his uncle or even his Ma and Pa going to the battlefield and shielding their comrades. They take the damage so no one else has to. But Kinoko, the runt of the litter, has no idea if he can do that. How did Zenitsu make it look so easy?

Frowning, Kinoko steps forward and starts helping the Namikazes unknot the rope. Minato pauses for a second, watching him, and Zenitsu lets out a warbly noise that sounds vaguely like his name. He pays neither of them any attention and continues to work.

They set Zenitsu free. Then they go get barbecue.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Their next C rank mission is a success. They safely deliver a scroll to an outpost near the border. They didn't encounter any missing nin, bandits, or even wild animals. It felt less like a mission and more like a stroll through the park.

But Jiraiya-sensei doesn't let them slack off. They stay in formation, practicing perimeter control and long-ranged communication. For such a goofy guy, he can be a total hardass when he wants to be. Zenitsu suspects that he's keeping them busy so they don't bother him and make his hangover worse. Trading looks with his teammates, he can tell that Minato and Akimichi-kun thought the same thing. How's that for long-ranged communication?

The cosmos apparently took their preparation as a sort of challenge. Sure, they finished the mission with no problems. But the other genin team is currently failing theirs. Zenitsu is flanking his team so he's the first to notice the group barreling towards them. They're coming in hot from an outpost further to the east, and they brought friends. By friends, of course, Zenitsu means foreign nin.

This is not unexpected. The war continues to rage around them, shifting territory lines every day. Borders are more of a guideline, a suggestion really, and less of a solid concept. The foreign nin likely thought that Konoha was trespassing. Or maybe the foreign nin are forward scouts for a much bigger army. Whatever the reason, they are hounding the heels of Zenitsu's fellow genin.

He lets out a startled cry, causing his team to look back at him. Somewhat incoherently, he manages to let them know the problem. Akimichi-kun folds his brow and there's that ping of doubt from him. Zenitsu realizes that the other team isn't even within their visual range. He heard them.

Considering that Zenitsu panicked about every rustle and snap they heard on their way to the outpost, he knows that Akimichi-kun is very unlikely to believe him this time. But Minato! Sweet and good Minato! He doesn't bother with doubt and he goes straight to asking questions.

How many? A three-man genin team with their sensei. Five foreign nin - three chuunins and two (two!) jounin.

Distance? Two kilometers east, heading west.

Injured? One, the sensei. He did not like the sound of those lungs. Possibly one of the genin as well.

How does he know all this? (Akimichi-kun) He heard them! For real this time!

Jiraiya was strangely quiet as they talked. He's standing on a tree branch with the team scattered around him. His eyes are squeezed shut. Zenitsu can hear him concentrating. His sound goes tight and low like a bass string strung too tight.

Then without warning, Jiraiya snaps into action. He signs for his team to run interference. And it is just the neatest coincidence that they are the perfect people for the job. Time to work as formation breakers, Zenitsu supposes.

(Please oh please oh please let the fight be over before they get there.)

Jiraiya leaps ahead of them. He somehow already knows where they are. His teammates don't so Minato asks him to lead. Zenitsu almost refuses point blank but the look on his brother's face shuts him up. An ache blooms between his ribs as he wordlessly starts running.

Minato, precious and beloved, is all of ten years old. He should never look like that - battle ready and grim. Kids his age should only worry about their math grades or if some girl likes them, not the likelihood of death by an enemy's hand. Zenitsu is supposed to be protecting him. He made a promise. How is he failing this badly?

Akimichi-kun acts more normally - scared and confused. With Jiraiya confirming that Zenitsu is right, he can't afford to doubt anymore. His sound is now a bloated hum like a steady, unrelenting drumroll. Sure, they have fought before. (Oh he hates how they have combat experience already.) But that doesn't mean fighting gets any easier. It's always scary and it's always confusing.

It's not fair. Akimichi-kun should have the option of finding somewhere safe and staying protected. But he doesn't. None of them do.

They crash into the battle exactly the way they were trained. Minato shoots forward to intercept a kunai strike aimed for their fellow genin. He almost gives Zenitsu a heart attack. Jiraiya-sensei is already in the thick of it all. He keeps the jounin on him and away from the kids plus their injured sensei. Akimichi-kun drives a punch to the ribs of a nearby enemy. His shirt is already soaked with sweat and they're just getting started. Somehow, he manages to keep his back straight and keep his knees from collapsing under him. This is more than Zenitsu can say for himself.

Another enemy - one of the chuunins - launches herself at the injured sensei. To his credit, the guy continues to defend his students even at half his breathing capacity. But he won't be able to dodge this attack. It's gonna kill him sure as sunlight. Zenitsu should help him. Zenitsu has to help him. Zenitsu must help him.

Static floods his brain. Every color turns black.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"I want to earn my genin promotion, not get it by default."

They're at the barbecue place. Piles of dirty plates sit all over the table. Minato sits on one side with Zenitsu curled up next to him. Kinoko faces both of them, sitting alone on the other side.

"Everyone knows that you're good as gold, Minato. If you're not at genin level, there's no hope for the rest of us. And I wasn't giving up completely! That was a tactical retreat. Tactical! Not everything needs to be now and fast."

"But sometimes..." Zenitsu speaks up. "Sometimes, there's stuff you can't walk away from. Sometimes, you have to try your best, even if it seems like a waste of time. Because then you just start telling yourself that everything is a waste of time and you never try at anything."

Kinoko squints at Zenitsu. "Yeah. But I'm not you."

Minato glares at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"My Pa always says there's a small difference between foolhardy and tenacious." Kinoko shrugs. "Sometimes you just won't win and that's okay. It doesn't mean I'll start quitting all the time."

"Except you don't know that for sure," Minato insists.

Kinoko raises an eyebrow.

"Battle can come down to luck just as much as skill. Many factors can come into play besides my Academy grade point average," Minato scowls.

"But it's still a pretty big factor. Skills are the basis of any fight. And yeah, I'm not saying that I couldn't get lucky! But honestly what kind of start is that? If I become a shinobi because I landed a lucky hit, then -"

"No! You became a shinobi because you tried!"

"Tried to get lucky, you mean. How is that in any way dependable? Do I look up my horoscope every time we fight?"

Kinoko is admittedly enjoying himself. He's never seen Minato turn red before. He's never made Minato mad either. He can imagine himself doing it again. But this discussion has gone on long enough. Kinoko puts up a hand before Minato could say another word.

"We're not going to agree. Obviously. So let's just agree to disagree."

Minato pouts or maybe he's scowling. Anger doesn't really mesh well with his face. He just ends up looking like a grumpy cat.

Zenitsu rolls his eyes, idly poking at the last slice of meat on his plate. Kinoko watches this and leans forward.

"Hey, you gonna eat that or can I have it?"

==>

⚡⚡⚡

It happens like this:

One of the jounin slips right past Jiraiya-sensei's guard and stabs him in the gut. His other hand follows up with a hard haymaker to the chin which sends sensei straight into a tree. The second jounin switches targets, aiming to kill the more vulnerable fighters. He goes for a fallen genin, already injured from their initial clash.

Kinoko knows her from the Academy. She's a little know-it-all, starting most of her conversations with obscure facts. She also lets people copy her homework, mostly to show off how smart she is. When it comes to shinobi skills, she's decent - enough potential to make chuunin maybe but likely to end up in administration. She's definitely not good enough to take on a jounin and win.

Kinoko isn't good enough either. But he is uninjured and on his feet. He doesn't even let himself think. He just moves.

The sword comes down in slow motion. Kinoko watches it and remembers Zenitsu tied to a post, talking about dying for his team. He remembers that Zenitsu made it sound so effortless. And damn, Zenitsu was right.

Some things can't be avoided. Some battles must be fought, even if there's little chance of winning. Because sometimes - when the stars align or when some kind of karmic scale tips - sometimes, people get lucky.

Kinoko should have looked up his horoscope this morning. He could have bought himself a lottery ticket.

The jounin's foot slides too far right, caught on a pebble or whatever's on the ground. He loses his balance and his swing doesn't decapitate Kinoko, just slashes straight across his torso. A tidal wave of pain erupts from his new injury. Gritting his teeth, he pushes past it to catch the jounin's sword and holds on tight.

Zenitsu appears, just like he's done in practice. Kinoko pins the target and Zenitsu finishes the job. His teammate has a tanto in hand, moving the way he only does when asleep. The blade meets the jounin's open throat.

There's a wet squelch. Skin tears apart. Blood spills out. Zenitsu's eyes flick open.

Kinoko watches as Zenitsu's waking self takes control, as he pulls the tanto back, as the slice becomes too shallow.

See, Minato. It's not enough to try. Luck can only do so much. Sometimes, there's no winning. But Akimichis protect even if they lose.

The jounin stumbles backward, letting go of his sword. Zenitsu skids to a stop, eyes wide as he watches the enemy clutch his ruined throat. Kinoko lunges because a live jounin is a dead genin and the man is already forming hand signs.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato and Zenitsu sit outside the operating room. It's been two hours. Jiraiya-sensei already left, likely to interrogate the surviving enemy. He put on a confident face, saying their teammate would pull through. The damage didn't reach too deep. That's the Akimichi genes at work. All their fat and muscle work perfectly as a set of armor.

Zenitsu could almost believe that. But there had been so much blood. Akimichi-kun had been so silent. He laid half on top of the jounin, tanking most of the jutsu's damage. It was some kind of lightning attack. Zenitsu heard the buzz and snap of electricity followed by the sizzle and hiss of flesh frying.

He got reminded of the only other time he faced someone with lightning techniques. For a split second, the enemy jounin wore a different face. Zenitsu saw black hair, pointed ears, and blue eyes filled with the kanji for Upper Moon Six.

The jounin already knew that Zenitsu was fast. He expected his attack. But that still didn't make him faster than Zenitsu. He took a second slower to react and a second was all Zenitsu needed.

Thunder Breathing. Seventh Form.

When the battle was done, Jiraiya had paralyzed the other jounin. The chuunin were killed through the combined efforts of the injured sensei and Minato. The entire fight took ten minutes, tops. There had been nothing pretty or epic about the whole thing - no dramatic speeches or grandstanding, only an exchange of attacks at rapid fire speed. And by the end of it, four people were dead, just like that.

The other genin were on the brink of fatal chakra exhaustion and one of them is going to need several stitches, but they managed to survive. They get their sensei medical help right before it got truly critical. He's in another operating room right now.

Minato came away with superficial cuts and bruises, practically untouched considering his enemies were all higher ranked. Jiraiya had a gut wound, which he let the medic slap a bandage on before he slipped away. Zenitsu's pretty sure that he's hiding a few fractures too. He'll sic Minato on him later.

As for Zenitsu, there's not even a scratch on him. That's fitting since he basically didn't do anything. He only got in the way. Sure, the report says that he saved the other sensei. But that can't be right. He fainted before the fight, again. And when he woke up…

(Blood spilling over his fingers. Breath twisting in shock. Rage and fear banging out a disfigured rhythm.)

He messed up which got Akimichi-kun hurt. If he hadn't fainted… If he hadn't woken up… If he hadn't been such a pathetic coward…

That jounin would still be dead. Someone would have killed him. Or he would have killed someone. Minato could have died. Akimichi-kun almost did. So Zenitsu killed him. Fully awake with eyes wide open, he killed someone. Such is the shinobi way.

"When you become Hokage, will you change this? Stop all these needless wars? End all the excess death? This stuff is pointless, you know that, don't you?"

Minato doesn't answer. Seconds tick by as they both stare at the whitewashed wall before them. Zenitsu listens to the hum of a hundred hospital machines surrounding him, noting the chatter of nurses at a nearby station. He focuses on that and not the sticky sounds coming from the operating room.

"I do," Minato says at last. "And I will do my best. But Zen-nii, change can't happen overnight. Even if I am Hokage, I can only do so much. Maybe our grandchildren will see a more peaceful world but it's like the Shodaime said… All we can do is plant the seeds for change even if we can never see it bear fruit."

Zenitsu thinks over these words and listens to his brother - really and truly listens. Back in his previous life, he had only met the Oyakata a handful of times and always from a distance. He had known that the man was revered by all of the Demon Slayer Corps. And he did have a pleasant sound, almost hypnotizing in its serenity. Looking at his brother now, he wonders if this was how the Hashira felt regarding their leader - if they knew, just from listening to him, that they would follow this man to hell and back.

Zenitsu now understands that he is prepared to do the very same with Minato. He will be his little brother's pillar. The world of his second life was a horrible dog-eat-dog land, and it taints everything alive within. But in order to protect that precious potential, the seeds from which a bounty may yet bloom, then... Zenitsu drags in a deep shuddering breath.

He is not so special or so idealistic to believe that this world won't force him to yield, to forgo the principles that he had from his previous life. He's never been that kind of legendary figure. The role belonged to people like Tanjiro or Nezuko. What he could do - like he did in his previous life for as long as he had been able - he could protect the Tanjiros and the Nezukos and the Minatos so they could live long enough to become the legend the world so desperately needed.

It's like Grandpa always told him. He was built to endure, to wield the blade that never broke. Even if the shinobi world forced him to smear blood upon his hands, this need to protect was the one thing his new life would never change.

If Zenitsu had been the flashy type like Uzui, he would have made some grand gesture like kneeling before his brother and swearing his fealty. But Zenitsu found that way too extra and embarrassing so he just nods his head solemnly. Judging from the gentle sound Minato made, and the tender smile on his face, Zenitsu knew that his brother understood - even without the flashy gesture. Minato reaches over to clasp a hand on Zenitsu's shoulder and squeezes tight.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the reason for his rebirth.

==>

Chapter Text

"It's not done yet," Zenitsu says, folding his brow.

The man blinks a split second before his eyes bug out. "Ha?! Whaddya mean it ain't done yet? Yer holdin' it, aintcha?"

"And I'm telling you that it's not done," Zenitsu snaps. "Keep working on it."

"And what am I supposed to do?" The man yells back.

"I don't know! You're the blacksmith!"

"Exactly! So take yer sword and get out!"

Zenitsu's eye twitches. He's paying this guy good money - a half year's worth of savings - and this guy gives him a sub par sword. Unbelievable! The actual audacity! He pulls in a lungful of air, preparing a blistering retort.

"Zen-nii," Minato speaks up. "Try swinging the sword again. Please. For me."

Zenitsu turns his glare on Minato. But his brother doesn't even wince. Hissing through his teeth, Zenitsu unsheathes the sword once more.

The blade is a sleek, polished steel. Light split to pieces on its edge. Zenitsu admits that it's a fine piece of work. But it's simply not the sword he wants. The heft is all wrong. The balance is way off. And the sound! What an awful sound - shrill and tinny like nails on a chalkboard! Zenitsu refuses to use such a sword.

He opens his mouth about to say as much but Minato cuts him off again.

"Right so, Mr. Smith, I have a proposition."

The guy squints at him. But Minato smiles, sweet as syrup. And Zenitsu could pinpoint exactly when the guy melts. No one can resist cute Minato. No one.

"Alright... I 'spose I can hear y'all out."

"You are so very kind, sir!" Minato chirps, like some kind of fluttering songbird. "Please forge a new sword and we will pay three times the original amount."

"What?!" Zenitsu yelps. He can't afford that! He nearly starved from hoarding every coin for the last six months. And in the end, his savings barely covered the full price. Minato knows this!! What is his idiot twin up to now????

"You will get paid for forging a new blade with bonus profit."

"That's mighty generous of you kid. But are ya sure that's within yer budget?"

"We can't! There's no -!"

Minato slaps a hand over Zenitsu's mouth.  This is betrayal in its purest form. 

"Let my brother watch you work. If he points out something wrong, and if you end up with a better sword, then we only pay the original price. No bonus."

Zenitsu jams his heel on Minato's foot. His not-so-cute twin grimaces but he does not yield.

The guy rubs his chin before looking at Zenitsu. "And he's no swordsmith?"

"No, sir. We are shinobi."

"Alright... Alright, well just so y'all know, I got ways of makin' you pay. So you better make good on that bonus."

"Then I expect a flawless sword, Mr. Smith."

The two lock eyes the way bulls lock horns. Zenitsu stands near paralyzed as Minato takes the sword from him, slides it back into the sheath, before handing it over to the guy. Even without the hand on his mouth, Zenitsu could only manage frantic, frightened noises - too stunned to speak. 

They leave the shop with a date and time for Zenitsu to return and observe. They manage to make it halfway down a street before Minato receives a full and explosive earful from his brother. Questions on his sanity are thrown recklessly about, followed quickly by accusations of apathy.

"Have you no care for my nerves? You can't just agree to deals like that! I'll be ruined, Minato! In debt for life!"

"Zen-nii..." His brother sighs, finally reaching the end of his patience. "I'll help cover the fees. I would never abandon you like that. But we won't have to pay more than you already have."

"How?! You said it yourself! I am not a swordsmith! I know nothing about metalwork! I barely know how to sharpen my kunai and even then, you do it for me most of the time!"

"This will be different. The guy must be getting stuff wrong if you hated his sword that much. So just sit there and listen. You'll hear something, I'm sure. Your ears have never failed you, right?"

Zenitsu does not know where Minato picked up such unshakeable faith - and in him of all people. But he would like such faith to be placed back where his brother found it.

Of course, Zenitsu is terrible at denying his brother anything. So he arrives at the swordsmith workshop on the agreed upon day. But he can never quietly obey, always hemming and hawing right to the last second. And of course, his brother is weak to his whining. So Minato comes along with him, quite literally holding his hand.

They stand beside the forge. They weren't given a bench to sit. There's a stick of molten metal before them. Two swordsmiths take turns hitting it with their hammers. Well, they could have been tap dancing on top of it and Zenitsu wouldn't see anything wrong. He doesn't know how swords are made. Maybe they should have been tap dancing. Is he supposed to point that out? 

No, because that would be crazy - because this whole idea is crazy - because his brother is crazy and also an idiot! Zenitsu emphasizes this thought with a glare aimed directly at Minato.

"Zen-nii," Minato says, not looking away from the smiths. "You're not paying attention."

"And what exactly should I be paying attention to?" Zenitsu hisses out.

Minato rolls his eyes. "Shoosh. Listen."

Zenitsu scowls, but says nothing more. Folding his brow, he allows himself to focus - really focus - on the sounds around him. The fire roars, hot and hungry. The smith hammers, steady as his pulse. The metal - Oh. Huh. Weird.

"Hey, Mr. Smith, can you hit that spot one more time?" 

"I already did."

"Well, then do it again!"

"Sir, you agreed to reforging on our terms. So kindly strike while the steel is hot."

The man grumbles unflattering comments about kids these days. But he hits the spot one more time. There's a dull tink as the metal layers press together. Then the smith sticks the steel back into the fire. Zenitsu's ears pick up a sound, a little flat and somewhat muffled, like someone singing under a blanket. He wants to get closer but sparks and heat and grumpy guys with hammers...

Somehow, he manages to keep pointing at the places that need to be hit one more time. The smith and his helper follow along more quickly, getting into the rhythm of things. The sound gets clearer. Zenitsu speaks faster. This goes on until the blade takes full shape before them. It's nowhere near complete but it actually looks somewhat like a sword and not just a hunk of heated metal.

The sound has grown smoother and sharper. But it's not the right note, not yet. 

"Huh," the smith murmurs as he eyes his work for the day. "Well, the steel got folded a bit better, I guess."

"The finished product will decide everything," Minato shrugs.

They return the next day. Zenitsu no longer needs Minato at his side. But Minato finds himself interested in the process. He's never given much thought to metal working. So surely it wouldn't hurt to know more. This way, if he ever needs some kind of custom made weapon, then he can explain himself well.

The twins watch as the tempering starts. Zenitsu says the forge should be hotter. The smith frowns and stokes the fire until it grows. Then Zenitsu says the forge should be cooler. The smith grits his teeth and adds straw to the kindling. Then Zenitsu spies a hollow, bamboo tube leaning against the wall. The helpers used this yesterday to blow air into the forge. This was mostly to start the fire. The forge has proper bellows, after all. 

But bellows are no match to the precision of total concentration breathing. 

Zenitsu feeds the forge a steady lungful of air. The fire turns blue at the base and the metal glows orange-red, like the sky at sunset. With speed that assassins would envy, the smith yanks out the superheated blade and dunks it into a waiting trough of water. Steam bubbles and splutters into the air, mimicking laughter born from joy - from relief.

"Well, damn boy, if that ain't a set of lungs on ya," the smith wolf-whistles. "Tell ya what, if that shinobi stuff don't work out, I'd be happy to have you around."

"That was not what you said yesterday," Zenitsu huffs, crossing his arms.

"So my brother was right?" Minato asks. "The sword could have been better?"

The smith shakes his head. "Hold yer horses, son. The blade ain't done yet. I still gotta polish the damn thing."

Then he does precisely that. With each stroke against the whet stone, a sound grows clearer and cleaner. Zenitsu is reminded of all the times he tuned a koto or a shamisen, listening as an ugly noise transforms into a beautiful note.

He ends up losing track of time. Maybe Minato sticks around or maybe Minato gets lunch. This would explain the riceball that ends up in his hand. He munches on it idly as the smith finishes sharpening his sword. And there can be no doubt now. Zenitsu knows the way he knows the sun will rise tomorrow. This will be his sword.

The smith re-uses the hilt from the first sword he gave them. Then he pauses, really taking in his work. He glances at Zenitsu then back at the sword, humming low and soft. 

"Moment of truth then," he says. 

And with more ceremony than Zenitsu felt necessary, the smith balances the blade on both hands, raising it up to him. Zenitsu grabs hold of the hilt and lifts his sword for the first time.

Unlike before, there's no scratchy, tinny noise. This time, the sword rings out pure and bright, filling the air like static before a storm. Zenitsu steps away from everyone, or maybe everyone steps back from him. He hears their pulse pick up before he shuts them out, tuning in to his body. 

The air is thick from soot and smoke, scraping down his throat with every breath. His lungs stretch thin and tight, pressing against the cage of his ribs. He listens as a flash flood of blood fills every capillary in his limbs, as every fiber in his muscles coil and tighten.

Then he swings.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Once upon a time, in a previous life, Zenitsu was struck by lightning. He tells everyone that this bleached his hair blond. He never speaks of the bright red branches branding his back. Grandpa fondly called it the mark of Lord Raijin, considering it a blessing from a god. 

The scar follows him to this lifetime, carved into his skin from birth. Zenitsu wishes he could see for himself but he can only catch a peek over his shoulder. Even a mirror offered little help. And since the mark is on his back, he tends to forget it exists. But Minato knows about it. They often share a bath when there's not enough hot water to go around. He always found it cool, tracing each branch with clumsy child fingers. 

Minato does the same now with Zenitsu's new sword, following the yellow streak traveling down the blade. 

"It looks like your birthmark, Zen-nii," Minato tells him.

Zenitsu tries not to worry about that - about all the probable implications of that - about a possibly divine sign embedded in something like that. Nope. He does not think about such things. Not once. It's just a very odd coincidence. That's all. Nothing more.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

When Jiraiya agree to train a bunch of genin, he expected to, well, train the genin. But the day after Akimichi Kinoko makes a full recovery, Jiraiya enters the training ground to find his genin already hard at work. He has no idea what they're doing, honestly. He can only see that they're busy - so busy, in fact, that they don't have time to greet him. Him! Their sensei!

Isn't his job to give them exercises? Isn't he supposed to give them directions? Aren't they supposed to wait for him before they start?

"Hey Minato!" Jiraiya calls out.

The younger Namikaze is on the ground, comfortably in a full split. He looks up, blinking at him with those guileless blue eyes of his. The little troll.

"Why is your brother running around with Kinoko strapped to his back?"

"Because I wasn't heavy enough, sensei."

As if that explains everything! Jiraiya squats down and firmly pushes Minato's back until he lies belly-flat against the dirt. The flexible brat lets him, grinning wryly the whole time.

"Are you gonna give me a real answer or should I sit on you? I will. Don't test me."

"It's some kind of training exercise," Minato says with a muffled chuckle. "Zen-nii says that he knew a guy who always fought with someone strapped to his back. He wanted to see if he could do that too."

"What kinda idjit fights with another guy strapped to his back? Who does that?"

Minato shrugs somehow, despite his awkward position. "It's good weight training regardless."

"Kinoko isn't supposed to do anything stressful."

"Riding on someone's back is the exact opposite of stressful. I'm pretty sure that Kinoko-kun is asleep."

Jiraiya watches Zenitsu jog past him. Kinoko hangs off his shoulders in a plus-sized version of a baby sling. It does not look comfortable. Kinoko is most definitely not asleep. He actually looks a little seasick, and since they're on land, that's a bit concerning.

"Alright, that's enough of that. Bring it in."

Jiraiya gets to his feet, graciously allowing Minato to do the same. Zenitsu slows to a stop and Kinoko cannot unstrap himself fast enough.

"Never again," Kinoko wheezes, dropping to the ground. "Not even if I was dying and you needed to carry me somewhere safe."

"Zen-nii could hold you in his arms," Minato says. "Like a baby."

"I think that I would rather die."

Zenitsu looks mildly offended. He grumbles something under his breath but Jiraiya could only catch "how did Tanjiro". Whatever that means. Jiraiya doesn't know. Jiraiya doesn't care. Zenitsu didn't seem likely to kick up a bigger fuss so Jiraiya leaves it be, clapping his hands.

"So you kids did good with that last mission. That other sensei commended you on your teamwork."

Actually, the other guy's exact words were: "Jiraiya, you are raising monsters on your team. What in the seven hells are you teaching those kids?"

But the kids didn't need to know that. 

The truth is that Jiraiya really hasn't been teaching them much. Kinoko acted the way his clan taught him. Minato jumped into the fight with his natural skills on display. And Zenitsu... Sage above, there can be no explanation for Zenitsu.

Well, Jiraiya would be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying the praise thrown his way. Everyone seems to think that he's some kind of teaching savant. But really, he just has the weirdest luck to get saddled with these genin specifically.

"Are we getting a reward?" Zenitsu asks.

"Why would we get a reward?" Minato asks, turning to his brother. "We were just doing our job."

"And Mebuki already thanked us," Kinoko adds. "We got that sack of fruit."

"Wait, hold up." Jiraiya cuts in, crossing his arms. "How come you brats got presents but I didn't?"

"She probably forgot. She only had eyes for one person on our team," Zenitsu says with a sly smirk at his twin.

Minato groans. "I mean, yes? You're right but not in the way you think."

"Nevermind that." Jiraiya shakes his head.  "As I was saying, you guys did a good job. That means sensei might give us more important missions. We'll be fine, I'm sure. But we need to work on expanding our team tactics. So today -"

"NO! I REFUSE!"

Jiraiya sighs. He had been hoping to avoid this.

"More important? As in more dangerous?? As in possibly lethal??? Absolutely not! No no no no no!"

"Okay, who's the sensei here? You or me?"

"We should just keep taking D-rank missions! I'll paint a fence - repair the wall - catch that damn cat! I'll catch that cat a thousand times! Let's never leave the village! Never!"

Jiraiya massages his temples. "Are you done? Got everything out of your system?"

"NO!"

"Tough. Shinobi work is dangerous work. Get used to it."

"NEVER! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

"I can and I will!"

"THIS ISN'T FAIR! We do a good job - a great job! So nobody dies! And we get more work?!? They should be giving us a break! Why are we getting punished for doing our job?!?! No way! Nope! Abso-"

"If we saved that one team, we can save more teams, right sensei?" Minato asks, proving to be godsent as usual.

"Minatooooo! You can't agree to this! They're sending us to war!! To the frontlines!! We're gonna diiiieee!!!"

"Has war officially been declared?" Kinoko pipes up.

Zenitsu wails grow louder. A headache begins to build behind Jiraiya's eyes. Reaching over, he thumps Zenitsu on the head. The brat yelps.

"Yeah. Officially," Jiraiya tells them.

There's been plenty of skirmishes along the border. And the shinobi villages already consider the war in full swing. But it's technically not a proper, official war until the daimyo says so. 

With the intel Jiraiya brought from their last mission, sensei finally convinced the daimyo to make his declaration. Stubborn asshole. But at least now, the village can comfortably rely on the daimyo's purse. This means two things: less externally sourced missions, and more internal promotions.

Externally sourced missions refer to the work commissioned by non-affiliated civilian clients. Those bring in good pay, supplying genin and chuunin with most of their income. The internal promotions mean that all sufficiently skilled shinobi move up a rank, without all the rigorous testing usually involved.  So with the daimyo's funding, those commissions are no longer necessary and manpower isn't wasted on escorting hot shot merchants. The village is free to fully focus on the front line efforts, switching from client-based services and income to blanket wartime duties and stipend. 

That's the real reason wars aren't official until the daimyo makes his decision.

"At least we get to stick together," Minato murmurs, patting his twin's back.

Zenitsu is sniffling loudly but that's an improvement compared to the cauterwauling from before. He doesn't look the least bit reassured by Minato's words. Well tough tiddies. He quite literally signed up for this. He has no one to blame but himself.

Jiraiya clears his throat. "Right then. On to training, let's -"

"I know! Let's do the cup thing! That'll cheer you up!" Minato grins, speaking right over Jiraiya. 

Okay. Just double checking here. But Jiraiya is fairly sure that he's supposed to be the sensei. His kids seemed to have missed that memo.

"Oi! Double trouble! I'm tryna train you brats! Zip it!"

"Oh Jiraiya-sensei!" Minato says as if noticing him for the first time. "You should do the cup thing with my brother. It's good reflex training. Surely we can start with that first."

"No, we're practing team tactics. This ain't a negotiation kid, what the hell."

"Of course! But we must address Zen-nii's peculiar quirks. You said so yourself. If we are to be an effective team then my brother needs to be at his fighting best."

Jiraiya gives him a flat look. He feels oddly like a sceptic shopper dealing with a shady seller. "And this cup thing will help him?"

"It sure will!"

Jiraiya turns to Kinoko. "Do you know about this?"

Kinoko nods. "Yeah. Simple enough. Zenitsu's beastly at it. Bet you can't beat him, sensei."

Jiraiya frowns. This feels like a trap. It's almost definitely a trap. But if he lets this go, they'll be thinking their sensei ain't got a spine. And that's unacceptable.

So Jiraiya sits and watches as Minato unseals a tiny table and a stack of cups. He hands a pitcher to Kinoko, sending him off to the river.

"Do you just carry those around with you?" Jiraiya can't help asking.

Minato pouts. "No! I brought this specifically for training."

Kinoko comes back with a full pitcher of water. Minato lays out the cups and Kinoko fills up each one. Zenitsu takes the seat on the other side of Jiraiya. The crybaby brat refuses to look at him, still sore about their new responsibilities.

"Alright!" Minato claps his hands. "We're ready to start."

Jiraiya studies the set up before him. Cups are arranged in neat rows on the table. Cold, river water fills every single one. 

"The goal of this exercise is to grab a cup and splash your opponent with the water inside. You succeed if you splash your opponent first. You fail if your opponent splashes you first. Simple, ne?"

Jiraiya huffs. Yeah, that sounds easy enough. So there's definitely a trick to it. He vaguely feels like a genin again, listening to Saru-sensei lecture about looking underneath the underneath.

"Zen-nii, whenever you're ready."

With a stifled groan, Zenitsu pulls down his hitai-ite until it completely blindfolds him. Jiraiya raises an eyebrow.

"We can't depend on Zen-nii to fall asleep every time he needs to fight," Minato tells him before eagerly explaining his theory.

By now, they all know that Zenitsu has extreme hearing. But Minato also observed that his brother fights best with both eyes closed (which naturally is the result of a sleeping state). So there's a chance that the dual input of sight and sound is confusing Zenitsu. His eyes just can't keep up with the stuff his ears already figured out.

"If that's the case," Minato concludes. "Then by blindfolding my brother, we should see a marked improvement in his performance. And I'm happy to say, yes! We have!"

Jiraiya rubs his chin, eyeing Zenitsu. The hitai-ite is fitted squarely over both eyes. Unless the brat is secretly a Hyuuga, there's no way that Zenitsu can see.

"Hmph. So that's the gimmick, huh? Fine, fine. Get on with it."

Zenitsu says nothing. Jiraiya can't tell if that's because the kid is still upset or if the kid managed to nod off. But for him to stay so quiet, that's a marked improvement already. Jiraiya smirks, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

"Start!" Minato calls out.

Jiraiya jabs his hand forward, snatching a cup. But before he could lift it, Zenitsu's hand slams on its rim. And then Jiraiya gets a face full of water. He didn't even get a chance to flinch. 

"Winner, Zenitsu!"

Jiraiya blinks as water drops slide down his brow. Zenitsu sits before him, the tiniest grin on his face. Oh this little shit. 

Jiraiya can't help but grin right back. "Enjoy that because you're not gonna do that again." 

Kinoko refills the empty cup. And Zenitsu absolutely does it again. Jiraiya catches on that he can block Zenitsu from grabbing a cup. But he can't seem to react faster than the kid. There's a few times when they tie, when they each get a cup. But he gets splashed more times than he will ever admit to anyone. Minato is almost certainly keeping count. Kinoko is right. Zenitsu is beastly at this. 

Which means... Which means that Zenitsu's reflexes are on par with a jounin. That could translate very well in battle, Jiraiya thinks. But they already knew that. They just need a way for Zenitsu to use his speed consistently. And this blindfold trick does look promising.

At some point, Jiraiya trades off with Kinoko and Minato. Both kids get splashed, but Minato manages to tie with Zenitsu a few times. The younger Namikaze isn't on the same level as his brother but there's no doubt that he will be, and soon by the looks of it.

Raising monsters, indeed.

They don't spend the whole day on this "reflex training". Eventually, Jiraiya does wrangle his kids into practicing team tactics. He mourns the apparent loss of his authority, if he ever had it. But with two speedsters on the team, he emphasizes the importance of staying in sync. Zenitsu and Minato can't just charge ahead, leaving Kinoko behind. They don't have the firepower to back up their speed. 

Someday, they will. Someday, the twins will become a threat, no team necessary. Someday, people will whisper about the Namikazes the same way they share myths and legends around a campfire. 

Except all that is in the future. Right now, they are a team and Kinoko's brute strength is something the twins sorely need. They can run circles around an opponent but they can't tear down walls or burst through blockades. In the end, wars aren't won by a single shinobi or even a pair like the Namikazes. So Jiraiya runs his team through a few formations, some for protecting a retreat and some for initiating a charge. They train until the sun begins to set. 

"Okay, good work kidlets. That's enough for today," Jiraiya announces.

"Slave driver," Zenitsu puffs out, lying flat on the grass. 

Minato sits next to him, catching his breath. Kinoko manages to stay standing but he winces every now and again. 

"Quit belly-achin and scram. I got better things to do than babysit you brats."

Zenitsu pops up. "Oooooh, sensei! Are you visiting the Lonesome Flower again? Can I come with you? Please! Oh please oh please oh please! I trained hard today, didn't I? That deserves a reward!"

"Zen-nii..." Minato groans. "That place has a minimum age requirement. And you don't look close to sixteen."

"The age requirement is for civilians." Zenitsu taps the hitai-ite properly placed on his brow. "This makes me an adult. Isn't that right, sensei?"

Minato turns his long-suffering gaze on Jiraiya. "You can't keep bringing my brother to cabarets."

"Then it's a good thing that I ain't going to the Lonesome Flower. I got errands - personal errands."

There's a crack of thunder. Zenitsu shifts. Before Jiraiya can dodge, the kid is in front of him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and yanking him down.

"You... You got a girlfriend ?"

"Idjit! I didn't say that!"

"You're lying! I can hear it !!"

There's a short-lived squabble with Minato sighing, Kinoko frowning, and Zenitsu trying his best to rip Jiraiya's balls off. The stupid brat needed to cut his damn nails because ouch! Somehow Jiraiya manages to pry off the little rat bastard and Minato drags him away, kicking and screaming out curses. 

With the kids quite literally off his back, he hikes it over to sensei's house. He lets himself in through the kitchen window that Biwako-san always keeps open for him. It started back when Jiraiya had been nothing more than a scrappy orphan. He had to scrounge around for food, hunting and fishing and stealing. 

One day, he tailed Saru-sensei back to his house. Thinking himself super sneaky, he grabbed everything he could carry out of the kitchen. The huge success encouraged him to keep doing it. But then he noticed something odd by his third heist. He wasn't just grabbing random leftovers and spare ingredients like cups of rice or bags of cabbage. Properly prepared bento boxes were left on the counter for him to take. 

It wasn't hard to figure out the rest. Biwako-san looks and acts like the head bitch in charge, as appropriate for the wife of a Hokage. But she keeps a sweet heart. And now, even with Jiraiya full grown and a man of his own means, she still keeps the kitchen window open. Just in case.

Jiraiya repays such kindness by stealing all of their cups. He completely ignores the fact that Sarutobi-sensei is sitting at his dining table, picking through a plate of senbei. 

"Jiraiya? What are you doing with those cups? We use those to entertain VIP guests. Jiraiya, where are you going? Those are made from pure porcelain! Jiraiya!"

He hotfoots it out of sensei's house. There will be a lecture in his future for sure. But this will be worth it. Cackling gleefully, Jiraiya rushes over to Orochimaru's lab and shoulders the door open. A beaker sails towards his head and with practiced ease, he ducks out of the way. It smashes to pieces on the wall behind him.

"Nice to see you too, Orochi," Jiraiya greets.

"I cannot say the same," his teammate replies, not even looking at him. 

Orochimaru's gaze remains fixed on the chemicals bubbling before him. It's probably something awful - maybe a melter of flesh or a boiler of bones. Then Orochimaru picks up the steaming flask and pours the contents into a waiting mug. He takes a sip and hums. Jiraiya blinks and sniffs the air.

Oh. Jasmine. 

Honestly, who makes tea in a glass flask?? Orochimaru is totally messing with him. 

"Since you're so obviously taking a break," Jiraiya says, spotting a nearby table. He shoves the scrolls off with one mighty sweep of his arm. Then he pulls up a chair and starts setting down the cups. "Let's do something fun for a change."

Orochimaru glares at him. "You could have ruined important work just now."

"We've been teammates since we were six. You know better than to keep important stuff within my reach." Jiraiya makes a few hand signs and a tiny spout of water fills each cup. He learned that trick from a Suna nin, oddly enough.

Orochimaru scoffs, refusing to move closer. "Then there's no reason for me to further indulge you."

"C'mon, Oro! Don't be like that! Even your big brain needs a break. Get over here already!"

"I loathe your very being."

With a great and dramatic sigh, Orochimaru comes closer, tiptoeing around the fallen scrolls, and taking the seat opposite Jiraiya. He glances at the arrangement on the table then raises an eyebrow at him. 

"Are these sensei's best cups?" Because yeah, Orochimaru would recognize Saru-sensei's kitchenware. There's no reason he shouldn't. The absolute prick.

"Yep. What about it?"

Orochimaru hums thoughtfully, before shrugging. It's such a casual gesture for someone so artfully put together. And all at once, Jiraiya misses him like a toothache. They really should spend more time together even if that's a terrible, disastrous idea where someone will die. 

He would be that someone. Hell, they're hanging out right now and within the next five minutes, Jiraiya is fairly sure that Orochimaru will attempt murder. Well, if he's gonna die then he's gonna earn it.

"Alrighty then!" Jiraiya claps, rubbing his hands together. "My kids came up with something fun!"

Jiraiya launches into an explanation of the exercise. The suspicious look never leaves his teammate's face but he doesn't actually get up and leave either. Wow. He must have been really bored or really stuck with whatever he's doing. Jiraiya usually has to annoy him for five minutes minimum before Orochimaru finally plays along.

"Very well. We can try one round of this little game." Orochimaru plucks a timer from somewhere, placing it down next to the cups. He sets it to 5 seconds and starts the countdown.

Jiraiya shakes out his hands, rolling his neck. Orochimaru does nothing because he finds this juvenile and he's certain of his victory. Hah.

The timer hits zero.

A pale hand strikes forward like a viper finding prey. Orochimaru reaches the cup first because of course, he would reach the cup first. But Jiraiya learned that this exercise isn't just about speed. To succeed, one must anticipate the opponent's moves and react accordingly. So, as Orochimaru wraps his fingers around the cup, Jiraiya slams his hand on its rim, keeping it in place.

And with his other hand, Jiraiya splashes Orochimaru right in the face. 

Droplets trail down long, black hair. Sharp yellow eyes blink once then twice. Water seeps into fabric, darkening the color of an already dark robe. Jiraiya nearly falls off his chair from the force of his triumphant cackling.

Orochimaru breathes out, deep and slow.

"You only get to do that once." 

==>

⚡⚡⚡

The twins sit outside a sweet shop in the middle of downtown. Today is their day off and Minato would have preferred to train or study fuinjutsu. But Zen-nii dragged him away from his scrolls and now here they are, munching on mochi. 

"Here comes one of your fangirls," Zen-nii tells him, gently elbowing his side.

"A new girl or the same one from yesterday?" Minato asks, eyeing the crowd around them.

Everyone is enjoying the pleasant spring weather. Children run and shout, weaving between the grown ups. Merchants hawk their wares, announcing their discounts. Civilians and shinobi wander about, stopping at the stalls or staring at the storefronts. The air is alive with chatter and laughter as crates rattle and bottles clink. 

Yet somehow, through all this cacophony, Zen-nii pinpointed the presence of his stalker. Of course, given that the fangirl is a girl, his brother could be depended upon to know exactly where she is. He likes to track every nearby girl because their sound is much more "soothing" compared to everyone else. Yeah right. Oh if only Zen-nii used his powers for good.

This doesn't change the fact that Minato can't find the girl. To be fair, he doesn't even know what she looks like. Still, he scans the crowd more carefully as he takes another bite of mochi. Mmm. This sure is tasty. 

"Nope, still Mebuki-chan." Zen-nii would know her name. He probably knows the name of every girl in the village. "Wow, she's dedicated. Kushina-chan better watch out. She has competition."

Minato rolls his eyes. Ever since Zen-nii heard of his interest in Kushina, he hasn't stopped teasing him about it. He's not even that interested. He just likes her hair and anyone would admire her forthright attitude. Zen-nii needs to stop making it weird. His brother simply insists that Minato is too young to understand. 

What bull. Minato knows his feelings perfectly. Thank you very much.

"Oh!!!" his brother gasps, sitting up straight. "She's coming closer!"

Minato blinks. That's new. Even when his fangirls follow him around, they prefer to watch him from afar. They hardly ever get closer, which he finds silly. If they like him so much, they should try talking to him. They won't get anywhere simply by gathering information. At some point, one needs to make a move before their target slips away. Minato thinks that they could have a grand old time together, talking about fuinjutsu or the Nidaime's theories. He can talk forever about those. 

This fangirl appears to be different. He finds himself satisfied to see her taking the initiative. Their Academy senseis always said that's the mark of a good shinobi.

As Mebuki comes closer, Minato finally gets a good look at her. Ah. Alright. So that's Mebuki. She's blond and skinny, with a fearsome frown. She seems better than the last time he saw her, which isn't saying much since the last time involved dropping her off at the hospital. In any case, that's not the face of someone approaching the object of their affections. No, Minato recognizes when someone is on a mission.

How curious. 

Mebuki nods at them. "Good morning. Sorry to bother both of you."

"No bother at all, Mebuki-chan!" Zen-nii singsongs. "Come sit, come sit!"

Mebuki folds her brow. "Oh, you know my name? I suppose the medics would have told you."

That's right. Minato almost forgot. The medics did use her name and the names of her whole team. But that was some time ago. And back then, Minato was focused on the outcome of Kinoko's surgery. Once her team was safe, he didn't spare them a second thought.

At least, she appears to have recovered well. She had to get stitches on her thigh, if he remembers right.

Zen-nii waves his hand. "But we already knew each other before that! We were classmates at the Academy!"

She frowns harder. "Well, yes. But we never talked."

Zen-nii gets schmoopier. "How could I ever ignore a pretty girl like you?"

At this point, normally a girl would turn away - disgusted or disturbed. Mebuki is neither. A flush spreads across her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Now Minato is not the best at reading expressions but he is almost certain that Mebuki is flattered. That's new.

"Right, well... I just wanted to give you this." Mebuki hands over a cloth sack. 

Minato takes it and peers inside. His brother scoots closer, looking over his shoulder. They find a bundle of fruits - oranges, apples, and peaches. Nice. Zen-nii loves peaches. These look fresh. Maybe she lives by an orchard.

"Thank you, Mebuki-chan! So sweet and pretty! Amazing! Incredible!"

Minato stifles his sigh. "We were just doing our job. You would have saved us if we were in trouble. I'm sure."

Mebuki shrugs. "My team couldn't beat a jounin, not even if we worked together." 

Her eyes slide over to Zen-nii before turning away to meet Minato's gaze. He raises an eyebrow. Her flush grows bigger and brighter.

"If you wanted to thank us, then you should thank Kinoko too."

"Oh! That's right! You're right! I'm sure that Mebuki-chan didn't forget. She's so smart, did you know? She had the second best scores in class."

Minato did not know, actually. And he's fairly sure that Mebuki did forget about Kinoko. She starts shuffling her feet and wringing her hands. These are very obvious tells. A ninja needs to be more discreet. 

"Ye-Yes... Akimichi-san. How is he?"

"The hospital is still keeping him for observation. But he's better. He's got some battle scars now. When you pay him a visit, he will be happy to show you. He's quite proud of them."

Mebuki nods, backing away. "Yeah. Neat. I'll go do that right now."

Then she runs off. She doesn't look back or wave. It's all very abrupt.

"Bye, Mebuki-chan!" Zen-nii yells out. 

Minato doubts that she heard him, since she already disappeared into the crowd. But then again, his brother is very loud.

"You need to be friendlier," Zen-nii says, apropos of nothing.

Minato blinks. "Eh? Me? She's the one forgetting about the guy who took a sword hit for her!"

"Well, yes... But it's not easy talking to someone you like. It's even worse if your crush starts scolding you."

Minato scowls. "I wasn't scolding her. And she wasn't interested in me!"

"Are you blind? Did you not see the way she blushed at you? Classic signs of a girl in love!"

Minato shakes his head. When Zen-nii gets like this, there's no correcting him. It doesn't help that Zen-nii knows - for a fact - that girls prefer Minato.

Sure, anyone could tell from a passing glance that Minato and Zen-nii are twins. They both vaguely resembled dandelions, with their messy, blond hair and their reed-like limbs. But on closer inspection, anyone would see the many differences between the Namikazes. Minato had blue eyes. Zen-nii had brown eyes. Zen-nii had buckteeth. Minato had a perfect smile. Minato had a sharper face. Zen-nii had chubby cheeks. The more someone looked, the more differences they found.

The girls agreed that Minato was prettier.

Zen-nii heard about this because of course, Zen-nii heard about this. He immediately told Minato, somehow complaining and boasting at the same time. Honestly, Minato didn't really know what to do with this information. Unlike his brother, he doesn't really care too much about the opinions of girls. He said as much to Zen-nii and Zen-nii ranted at him for a full hour.

"You wouldn't understand!" His brother cried out. "Girls like you so there's no reason for you to care about their opinions. That's typical pretty boy behavior."

But Minato doesn't think that girls like him. From the way they point and giggle at him, he has a sinking suspicion that they're making fun of him. Some girls (mostly Kushina) downright pick on him - tugging him around, pulling on his hair, or demanding his help when he is clearly trying to read. Sure, not all girls are like that. The nice ones leave him alone. But even then, he doesn't understand Zen-nii's insistence on worshipping girls and women. And hopefully, he never will.

It's actually quite funny, Minato thinks to himself. For someone claiming to be an expert on romance and wooing women, Zen-nii never could tell when a girl liked him back. 

"What's that grin for? Something funny?" Zen-nii squints at him, already biting into one of the gifted peaches. 

Minato keeps on grinning. "Maybe when you're older, you'll understand."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Mebuki is a smart girl. That's it. She's not the prettiest or the nicest or the strongest. She's smart. She can solve the hardest math problems, answer the strangest riddles, and supply a never ending stream of random facts. This does not help her make any friends. 

But all her classmates know that she's smart. So they ask to copy her homework. And that's stuff friends do. They help each other out. Or so her classmates say. And well, Mebuki doesn't really care about academic integrity or whatever. This way, she gets to be called a genius, or a lifesaver, and no one really minds her. 

That's probably for the best.

Mebuki does not come from any notable clan or family. Her parents arrived in Konoha with her baby self on a sling. They had the standard sad story of refugees fleeing a war. Her mother was a school teacher and her father was a farmhand. Mebuki is the first shinobi in her family.

The Academy is split evenly between clan kids and civilian kids. The village is getting bigger so more and more civilian kids enroll. Some clans don't like that and their kids repeat everything they say. Mebuki tries to avoid them as much as possible. She keeps her head down. She keeps her grades up. Everyone sees how smart she is, how useful she is. So they leave her alone.

That's good. That's better than the other civilian kids - the pathetic, useless kids. Namikaze Zenitsu is one of those kids - the most notable example because everyone knows that he's good for nothing. Even the teachers think so. 

Mebuki's seen the way he cries and complains and all the cowardly crap he pulls on a daily basis. He might as well walk around with a sign that says "Kick me". He should have flunked out ages ago so she considered his graduation nothing short of a miracle. But well, Namikaze Minato is nothing if not a miracle worker.

Namikaze Minato is the complete opposite of his brother. That doesn't make him less of a target. A civie kid can't be weak and pathetic, sure. But they can't be better and stronger either. That's also annoying and unacceptable. 

In light of all that, Mebuki is very happy where she's at. She scores well enough for each test. She does all the homework and she trains on a regular basis. Everything should work itself out.

Then Mebuki watches Zenitsu slice the head off a jounin and she has never felt more like a fool. She's supposed to be smart. She's supposed to know all the right answers. That's all she's good for. So how did she get this so wrong?

It doesn't make any sense. When she last saw Zenitsu, they were at the Academy, awaiting team assignments. He seemed close to pissing himself, clutching Minato's arm with both hands. If anyone would rescue them, if anyone could take on a jounin, then Mebuki would have thought of Minato. And he is with them, taking on chuunin, as his pathetic and useless twin beheads a jounin. She cannot emphasize this enough.

Namikaze Zenitsu, deadlast and coward extraordinaire, beheads a jounin. He does so easily too. She's never seen anything like it. He's so fast. Lightning snaps and cracks around him, with thunder following in his footsteps. A dragon forms from the edge of his tanto, white-hot and heavy with rage. It's like something out of the old myths - the stories her parents shared from their time as simple folk, praying to gods for rain. Lord Raijin - they told her - Lord Raijin would save them all.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

An evening breeze slips through the trees to kiss a set of glass chimes. A steady stream runs through a bamboo fountain, leaping over stones to land among the koi. A pair of butterfly wings - soft as a sigh - dance alongside petals fluttering in the air. 

Zenitsu has been here before.

If he keeps his eyes closed, if he listens carefully, he may find that familiar voice once more. He half dreads and he half hopes to hear such a gentle sound. Knowing that he cannot return, knowing that he cannot go home, a cavernous ache unfolds between his lungs.  

He holds his breath and grits his teeth. Then he wakes up. 

The wooden ceiling of the Kouchou Mansion greets him like an old friend. Zenitsu sits up and finds himself lying by the engawa, overlooking the precisely tended garden. A sake set sits waiting on the polished floor, and a man sits waiting by the sake. 

Unlike his crazy personality, Uzui Tengen always wore such muted and monotone colors. Opting for a black haori and a gray hakama, only his bejeweled eyepatch belied his flashy tendencies. He is seated with his legs crossed and his hands tucked into his sleeves. Zenitsu did not hear him at all which makes perfect sense, really. This self-centered asshole is the only one capable of hiding his sound completely. 

"It's been awhile, Zenitsu."

So Tengen recognizes him. Zenitsu finds himself somewhat shocked. Sure, a lot of features carried over from his past self. But he's not wearing his yellow haori anymore. He's got something called a tracksuit jacket now, green with a white stripe down the shoulders and arms. His hair's a little different too, still straight with square ends but messier than before. And he's much younger than the age he died in. 

But Tengen knows him on sight, offering that infuriating grin of his. Zenitsu feels a vein pop on his brow. 

"The universe is cruel beyond all comprehension. I could be dreaming of a pretty woman. But no, I get to dream of you ."

"Yeah, you get to dream of a pretty man. Aren't you lucky?"

Zenitsu hisses out a breath. "I guesssss. I should be thankful that it's you and not Nezuko-chan."

Tengen's grin shrinks. "Now why wouldn't you want to see Nezuko-chan?"

Zenitsu opens his mouth with a ready retort, but his tongue twists at the last second. Memories of the battle - of the kill - flash through his mind. He had never realized how fragile people could truly be. Their skin can tear from a paper cut. Their bones can break from a hard fall. It only takes one bad day for years of a life to end. Zenitsu can end their lives. He has done so already.

"Aaaah… I never wanted to see such eyes on someone other than myself," Tengen murmurs.

Most of the time, Zenitsu resents his ears. He can know so much about someone before they even talk to him. That's not fair. And most people found that creepy. But Zenitsu cannot pick up Tengen's sound and for once, he wants to hear. He wants to know the reason for the strange expression on Tengen's face. The red of his eyes seem darker, somehow deeper. His grin remains but there is no joy, no mischief.

"Nezuko-chan would hate me…" Zenitsu confesses with a wry laugh. Yet he finds no sorrow within himself. There should be. He hadn't been a murderer in his past life. But in his new life, he had to protect his brother - his team. And he cannot apologize for that. 

Oh if Tanjiro could see him now… 

"Did you believe your bonds are so easy to break?" Tengen cuts through Zenitsu's thoughts. 

"But I've changed." He says, looking Tengen straight in the eye. "I'm not the Zenitsu from before. I can't be. They wouldn't want to be friends with who I am now."

Tengen sighs and turns away, looking out into the garden and the full moon night. He pats the floor next to him. Zenitsu folds his brow but shuffles forward, taking the seat at Tengen's side. There's silence in the peculiar way only they could know - a silence that was never silent. They could hear a frog croaking underneath the bushes. They could hear the mansion settle around them, each floorboard and wall panel creaking and groaning. They could hear each other… 

Zenitsu could hear Tengen! 

His head snaps towards the man. He finds Tengen watching the distant horizon. There isn't a change that Zenitsu could see. But before, there had been nothing - not even the hollow sound of emptiness. Sitting by Tengen felt like sitting next to a bottomless abyss. Now, Zenitsu could hear him - full and heavy and right within his reach.

Tengen's sound is exactly as he remembers it. Noisy. Flashy. Stormy. It sparked and popped like his signature explosives. But beneath all the booms and cracks, Zenitsu could pick out a gentle, lilting chord. It wove between the beat of explosions, tying Tengen's sound into a vibrant symphony. Hearing this had given Zenitsu courage during the fight against Upper Moon Six. And it offers support once more, as expected from a true pillar.

"Agatsuma Zenitsu was a young, orphaned boy. He had a beloved master - an old man who saw potential in him. His dream was to grow strong and protect people, to make his old master proud."

Tengen takes a sip of his sake. 

"When I look at you, I still see that same boy. You are still the same Zenitsu who will do anything to protect the people he holds dear. And you are still Kuwajima Jigoro's sole pride and joy. That hasn't changed."

Zenitsu's hands clench into fists, bunching up the fabric of his khaki pants. He swallows back a sob as tears freely run down his cheeks. His breath control is completely ruined. Stupid Tengen, always making him look so uncool.

At his side, Tengen chuckles. "Don't worry so much about us. We don't have the right to judge you when we don't live in your world. And we already know that you're doing your best. We're cheering you on. And Zenitsu..."

A hand drops onto his head. Zenitsu lifts his chin, meeting Tengen's gaze.

"You have my full permission to use my techniques as you see fit. Mines were originally shinobi techniques anyways, so..."

Zenitsu blinks. His ears pick up a hushed note from Tengen - a fragile, halfway thing between sorrow and hope. 

"Protect your little brother. Protect your little brother the way I never could."

Before Zenitsu can form a reply, the colors of the world begin to bleed and blur around them. Tengen's form fades around the edges, backlit by a strange ethereal light. The hand atop his head grows weightless and when Zenitsu reaches up, it slips light as mist through his fingers. 

Time's up.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato always wakes before Zen-nii. Today is no different. The morning greets him with rain tapping against the windows. Thunder rolls in the distance as winds whistle past their apartment. Minato slips out of his futon, hurrying to their kitchenette and turning on the stove. 

They didn't have a proper heating system, so they usually spend colder days huddled together beneath every blanket they own. Now exposed to the frigid air, Minato mournfully eyes the quilt he left behind to begin prepping their morning meal. At least the stove offers some heat which Minato happily uses to warm his hands as he brews a pot of tea. 

The skies begin to clear by the time breakfast is ready. Minato returns to the futon and kneels next to his sleeping brother. Grabbing hold of a shoulder, he gently turns him over and finds a trail of tears tracing Zen-nii's cheeks. 

Now everyone knows that Zen-nii cries like a leaky faucet. But usually, he likes to advertise his misery - yelling at the top of his lungs, rolling on the ground, and other excessive displays. Minato has never seen Zen-nii cry so quietly before. In truth, he can only recall his brother's extreme expressions, ranging from twisted and upset to mushy and ecstatic. He has never known Zen-nii to be like this - completely at peace.

Sometimes, Minato feels as if he doesn't know his brother at all. They're twins so they're supposed to be the same age. But every now and again, Zen-nii gets a far away look in his eyes, making him seem much, much older than the seven minute gap between them. 

Minato flexes his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. Whenever he catches his brother looking far away, his stomach sinks like a boulder in quicksand. The slow and steady pull is worse than a fast drop because this gives Minato plenty of time to think, to worry, to dread. He becomes convinced that if he lets Zen-nii out of his sight, then his brother will vanish to a foreign and distant land, where Minato can never reach him. 

There can be nothing more terrifying than that.

The tears continue to spill from Zen-nii's eyes, soaking into the pillow. Minato frowns at this. He hovers above his brother, torn between shaking him awake or leaving him alone. 

Zen-nii decides for Minato. He slowly opens his eyes, blinking once then twice. For a single, furious second, Minato thought that Zen-nii wouldn't see him - that Zen-nii's stare would go right through him. But the second passes and Zen-nii's bleary eyes find Minato. 

Outside, shinobi sandals clack against roof tiles. Shutters bang open as chatter drifts up from the street. People start to peek out of their homes, prepping for the long day ahead. They should get moving too, if they don't want to be late for training. But then Zen-nii lifts the blanket and Minato doesn't think twice before diving in, pressing close to his brother. 

Shivers run through his body and well, it is drafty inside their little apartment. It is absolutely not from any sort lingering terror because there's absolutely no reason to be scared. Minato pulls his knees up, crossing both arms over his chest. Zen-nii chuckles and tucks the blanket around both of them. They stay like that, cocooned together, with Minato listening to the steady beat of Zen-nii's heart. 

That's right. His brother is right here. He hasn't gone anywhere.

"Did the seals fail?" Minato blurts out, glancing at the paper talismans stuck to Zen-nii's ears. Those look alright or at least none of the sigils are smudged. But it could be an internal failure.

Zen-nii shakes his head and reaches over, brushing back a lock of Minato's hair. They stare at each other. If the blue of his eyes could be comparable to a summer sky, then his brother had eyes the color of sunset. That mix of brown and gold mimics the moment when work ends, when exhaustion settles in his bones, when he finally gets to go home. 

Zen-nii smiles, soft and tender. "It's perfect. Everything is perfect."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Once Jiraiya gets chased out of the bathhouse, he makes his merry way to the training ground. He arrives to find his team already there, as per usual. Minato and Kinoko are in the middle of a spar. Kinoko needs to improve his footwork. Minato needs to improve his stamina. As for the problem child, Zenitsu is sitting under a tree. His eyes are closed. His legs are crossed. He isn't moving so maybe he's asleep. But Jiraiya notes a peculiarity in the boy's chakra. 

No… It couldn't be… 

Walking past the sparring pair, Jiraiya crouches down in front of Zenitsu. The brat doesn't even open his eyes. He continues to focus and his chakra - yes, Jiraiya's suspicions were right. 

"Pissed off enough women today, sensei?"

"It's early. And I haven't brought you along. I'm liable to piss off more." Jiraiya rubs his chin. 

Zenitsu kept his eyes firmly closed even as he spoke. Being a little shit did nothing to break his concentration. Hah.

"Whatcha up to?" Jiraiya watches as the boy's chakra surely but steadily begins to transform.

"So I've got good hearing, yeah? I might as well start using it properly. I know there's a way for me to listen and learn the patterns of someone's sounds. Kinda like transcribing sheet music. If I can do that, I can start predicting moves in battle."

"And you know that this can be done? How?"

Zenitsu bites his lip. His concentration breaks. With a sigh, he opens his eyes and gives Jiraiya a baleful look.

"I just do, okay? I've - I mean - Isn't that a logical conclusion to make? Because music can come from anything, if you're clever enough, if you pay enough attention. You can even make a song from ambient noise. So you know…"

In fact, Jiraiya did not know but he'll investigate Zenitsu's caginess later. Right now, he's more interested in the thing he just witnessed.

"You were composing a melody… From background noise… Is that what you said?"

Zenitsu nods slowly, almost hesitant.

Jiraiya grins at him, sharp and wicked with the promise of brutal training. "Really? Cuz it looked to me like you were close to using Sage Mode."

==>

Chapter Text

A humble, single-story house should not inspire so much fear. And yet Minato would rather face a platoon of Kiri nin than stand where he is at this very moment. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, straightens his vest, and abruptly turns around. His foot is mid-air - the first step of a long and speedy dash - when Zen-nii grabs the waistband of his pants and hauls him pinwheeling back.

Minato whips around and gives Zen-nii his patented puppy dog eyes. "I will never lie to you again. I won't secretly join the ANBU again. And I will let you know if another shady, masked man offers me a job. Just please don't make me go in there."

"Lie. Half-lie. Blatant lie." Zen-nii meets his pleading eyes with a very cold glare. "And also, ha! Tough luck, buddy. Jiraiya made a promise."

"If it's Jiraiya-sensei's promise, why am I here? He should be here. Not me!"

"What's the big deal? You're acting like I did when we got sent to the western front."

"That would be easier. A killer squad of shark-toothed shinobi, I know how to deal with that. Tutoring a child? What do I know about that? I'm a frontline fighter!"

Zen-nii gets behind Minato and started shoving him forward. "You'd be great! You spent the last sixteen years putting up with me! A kid can't be worse!"

"You'd do better!" Minato digs his heels into the dirt, pushing back against Zen-nii. "You spent the last sixteen years taking care of me! You're already an expert!'

"Uh, hello? You took care of me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Gentlemen."

The Namikaze twins froze, bit by bit turning to face the now open door of the dreaded house. Hatake Sakumo leans against the doorframe, wearing sweatpants, a tank top, and a very bemused look. He raises an eyebrow.

The twins spin to face him, bowing in sync. "Good afternoon, Hatake-san, sir! It's an honor to meet you!"

"And I suppose that's the infamous Namikaze resonance." Hatake-san digs a pinkie into his ear, wincing slightly. "An honor, eh? Hard to believe anyone thinks that anymore."

Minato sees Zen-nii shift, standing back up with steel in his spine. He copies him a second slower, touch more sheepish.

"You saved the lives of your teammates, sir. That is nothing to be ashamed of," Zen-nii says, sure and solid as stone.

"And started a war in the process," Hatake-san replies. "Not my finest moment, you must admit."

Minato frowns, catching Hatake-san's gaze. "You didn't start the war, sir. War is bigger than a single man's mistakes."

Scratching the hollow of his throat, Hatake-san tilts his head. An empty expression masks his face. "Huh. You sound like your sensei."

Before either Namikaze could respond to that, Hatake-san looks over his shoulder and yells into the house. "Kakashi, your tutors are here!"

"Actually sir, only my brother is Kakashi's tutor," Zen-nii tells him. "I just came to drop him off."

"Oh. Does your brother need a babysitter?" Hatake-san folds his brow.

"He needs a leash. He has a tendency to run away and do stupid stuff."

"Zen-nii!"

"That's not a winning endorsement," a tiny voice chimes in.

Minato blinks and glances down to find a boy walking up to them, wearing a shiny new hitai-ite and a fearsome glare. This must be Hatake Kakashi, soon to be his student.

"Why would I want him to tutor me?" Kakashi asks, coming to a stop at his father's side.

"He's better than you deserve, you little brat!" Zen-nii fires back.

"First, he mocks me. Then, he defends me," Minato mutters under his breath. But this can be good. If Zen-nii keeps going, then Hatake-san will surely see that he isn't fit to be any child's tutor.

A muscle twitches under Minato's eye. His pulse quickens and his fingers itch. The thought of failure - of inadequacy and rejection - is enough to set off a stomach cramp. His perfectionist nature simply can't forgive a job badly done, even with jobs that he doesn't want in the first place. Sage help him.

Breathing in slowly, he squats down to Kakashi's height and offers a polite smile. The boy squints at him.

"Nice to meet you, Kakashi-kun. My name is Namikaze Minato."

Kakashi completely ignores him, tilting his head to look up at his father. "Why can't you teach me? You're on probation, right? You have plenty of free time! I don't see why I -"

"Hey now. None of that." Hatake-san drops a heavy hand on the boy's head. "Namikaze-san will tutor you and that's final."

As father and son talk, Minato notes that Kakashi is the spitting image of Hatake-san. He has the same nose, the same jawline, and of course, the same spiky hair. With wiry, stretched out limbs, he stands at eye level with his father's hips. And he holds himself with the cocky confidence of a precocious kid prone to correcting his senseis. Oh joy.

As for Hatake-san, Minato notes the exhaustion embedded within the older man. His back seems permanently curved, bowing beneath an invisible weight. Dark bags appear to be tattooed under eyes half-lidded in a perennially sleepy state. Minato knows that the probation is a punishment but from his observations, Hatake-san sure could use the time off.

Kakashi huffs and bats away his father's hand as he studies Minato out the corner of his eye. Minato smoothly rises to his full height, refusing to be daunted by Kakashi's inspection. Their stares meet in a full-frontal collision. A sixteen year old sensei and his five year old genin - what strange and inevitable pairing.

"I look forward to working with you."

"I don't."

It's an auspicious start.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT ==>

⚡⚡⚡

As usual, the bar is loud, crowded, and smelly. Body odor mixes with the acidic scent of alcohol. Shinobi fill every seat from wall to wall, corner to corner, floor to ceiling. A rousing song starts up from the back tables, causing the patrons to sing or shout shut up in equal fervor. Caught in the middle of this mess, three boys stood beside their sensei. The chief quartermaster must not be prepared for eleven year old chuunin because the boys are swallowed whole by their brand new vests. At least the Akimichi kid looks better off than his teammates, standing a full head taller and three sizes bigger than the twin blonds.

"Oooooi, Tsunade!" The big oaf of a sensei calls out, waving a hand.

Tsunade rolls her eyes. Jiraiya acts as if she won't be able to find him. Please. He towers over everyone here, and he's got spiky, white hair - not the most common coloring in Konoha. Even without him making a fool of himself, he's not an easy guy to overlook.

"Quit makin' a scene!" Tsunade barks out, marching up to her teammate.

One blond twin flinches. Huh. Planting herself in front of the boys, she looks them up and down. The Akimichi kid got a shaved head but that's about the only thing setting him apart from his clansmen. The other two don't seem to be part of any clan, and they're not if she remembers right. A pair of war orphans, Jiraiya told her. They sure ain't much to look at. Except... That twitchy brat... Something about him tickles the back of her brain.

Oh!

"YOU!" She yells, pointing at the kid.

He shrieks and her eardrums nearly pop from the volume.

"I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU NAKED! I HAVE NEVER WATCHED YOU BATHE! IT WAS SENSEI'S IDEA NOT MINE!"

Just about every head in the bar turns to look at them. The other blond smacks an open palm against his forehead. The Akimichi kid sighs, shakes his head, then looks to the heavens for help. As for Jiraiya - well, how about that. Her teammate turned to stone or at least close to it from the way he got so stiff.

"IDJIT!" Jiraiya somehow blurts out, re-animating himself to pop a fist on the noisy kid's skull.

"OW!"

"What kinda shinobi are you?"

"The kind that doesn't want to die!" The kid fires back, rubbing his head. Then he pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. "But death by the hand of a pretty lady - that's not the worst way to go. Top five, I'd say. Maybe even number one depending on how I die."

She does not miss the way his eyes flick to her chest for all of a second. Tsunade spins on her heel and socks Jiraiya in the gut. Her teammate folds in half with a loud grunt.

"What on Grandpa's green earth was sensei thinking?! Letting you teach impressionable children??"

By now, their audience has lost interest. Jiraiya and Tsunade are regulars at this dive so they're all just about used to this kind of nonsense. Chatter fills the air as they return to gossiping about this and that. Bumfucks. Every single one of them.

"I'm afraid that my brother has always been this way."

Tsunade glances over to find the quiet blond speaking. He offers her a tired smile.

"Jiraiya-sensei did not teach us such behaviour."

Tsunade purses her lips, nodding. She grabs hold of Jiraiya's shoulders, straightening him up and making sure to look him in the eye. Then she punches him in the gut once more. He goes down like a sack of bricks.

"MORON! Why aren't you setting a better example for your students?! Sage Almighty, control your kid's behavior!!"

Jiraiya groans from his spot on the floor. "I just can't win, can I?"

Tsunade turns to face the boys. The pervy blond is now hiding behind the Akimichi kid. From the serene look on his brother's face, she hazards a guess that his brother offered him no shelter in his time of need. Ice cold. Tsunade approves.

Of course, a rookie chuunin Akimichi is no match for a hardened jounin Senju. Her hand shoots forward and she grabs hold of her target's vest, lifting him off the ground so he hangs at eye level with her. She squints at him.

The brat starts crying. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"Liar," coughs out the Akimichi kid.

The brat makes a valiant attempt to kick his teammate. She shakes him around, until he goes limp and helpless in her grip.

"It's gotta be you, right? You play the shamisen and the shakuhachi. I've seen you around here."

He blinks at her. "You... You remember me? But it's been so long."

"A couple years, give or take." She shrugs, setting him back on the ground. "So you became a shinobi, eh? I thought for sure someone picked you out - got you some kinda radio deal or hell, a job at the daimyo's court. They got musicians there, doncha know?"

"Wait, Tsunade-hime," Jiraiya butts in, pulling himself up. "You know this kid?"

"Yeah! You hang around here as often as me. How come you don't remember?"

Jiraiya just gives her a clueless stare.

Tsunade clicks her tongue, disgusted. "Some spymaster you turned out to be."

"How was I supposed to know my kid's musical? I'm their jounin sensei! I'm too busy turning them into badasses!"

"You met him before you became his jounin sensei!"

"It's been five seconds and I already wish to leave," says a sly, sibilant voice.

Tsunade and Jiraiya whip around to find their teammate cutting through the crowd. Or more accurately, the crowd parts for him. He raises a perfectly manicured brow at both of them.

"Orochi! You made it!"

In true Jiraiya fashion - completely ignoring all personal boundaries, he reaches over and wraps an arm around Orochimaru. Of course, Orochimaru is fully capable of dodging Jiraiya. But despite his exasperated expression, he allows himself to be manhandled in this "undignified" manner. Tsunade smirks at him which he very pointedly ignores.

"You've spoken of little else besides your students. I must admit, they have piqued my curiousity." Orochimaru punctuates his statement with a very pointed leer.

The pervy blond squeaks, scrambling away to duck behind Tsunade. But she's having none of that, thank you, and she quickly yanks him out of her shadow. Like feeding a mouse to a snake, she sticks him in front of his teammates, right at the center of Orochimaru's line of sight.

Slitted, golden eyes study the boy before him, bending down to get a closer look. Fear seems to have paralyzed the brat, and he spews only incoherent, gibbering sounds. Orochimaru smiles and slides out his freakishly long tongue until it almost touches the boy's cheek. Tsunade snorts, crossing her arms. Always gotta be dramatic, this one.

When the brat is ready to piss his pants, Orochimaru pulls back, tucking in his tongue. He nods at her. "Yessss, this isss the boy musician."

"AHA!" Tsunade snaps her fingers. "Called it!"

"If you're done traumatizing my kids," Jiraiya speaks up, gifting an unimpressed stare to both of them. "Can I start the introductions or what?"

Tsunade graciously gestures for him to proceed. Jiraiya responds with a mocking bow. Together, they turn their attention to the boys.

The brat is clinging to his brother's front in a full body hug. He's got arms roped around shoulders and legs roped around the waist. His brother carries the extra weight easily, gently patting his back like a parent soothing a child.

"Right so, the apparent star of the show - that's Zenitsu. And that's his twin, Minato. And last but certainly not least, there's Kinoko."

Jiraiya jabs a thumb at her general direction. "Kids, meet my teammates. The creep's Orochimaru. The pinup's Tsunade-hime."

"Ha? What was that?" She cracks her knuckles. "You wanna eat through a straw?"

"It was a compliment!!"

"Um, excuse me..." The quiet blond - Minato tugs on Jiraiya's shirt. His brother, Zenitsu, is now plastered against his back, watching them warily.

Jiraiya nods at Minato. "Wassup?"

"Can we go home now?"

"Haaa? But we're just getting started! C'mon, you guys made chuunin! It's time to party!" Jiraiya catches the bartender's attention. "Three of whatever's on tap!"

"Jiraiya-sensei..." Minato frowns, folding his brow. "We can't - I mean - They don't usually serve drinks to eleven year old kids."

"Lighten up, would ya? It's one pint. You'll be fine. Tsunade, tell 'em."

Minato gives her a puzzled look.

She shrugs. "I'm a med nin. And sure, kids ain't exactly my specialty but one glass of beer isn't going to kill you. I can confirm that much. Just don't get blackout drunk, and everything will end up A-OK."

"Tsunade? Suggesting restraint? Why, I never thought I'd see the day," Orochimaru hisses out a chuckle.

She playfully elbows his side. "Oh bite your tongue."

The drinks arrive. Jiraiya drops a stein in each of his student's hands. Minato eyes his beer with great suspicion. Clearly, he did not take to heart her professional opinion. She can't take that too personally. A sensei like Jiraiya must have conditioned him to question adults and their opinions.

Kinoko, the Akimichi, has no such doubts. He grabs his stein and takes a long pull. Minato watches him, seeming somewhat betrayed. Kinoko shrugs.

"Da lets me drink during extended family dinners. It's really not a big deal."

Minato scowls and squares his shoulders. A passerby would think that he's about to swallow poison. It's a bit adorable, Tsunade must admit. With his oversized vest and his so serious expression, he resembles a kid pretending to be all grown up.

Except that he is all grown up. Chuunin can no longer be children, ergo chuunin are not children. Age becomes a number, no matter how small.

Tsunade clenches her jaw. A sour taste spreads through her mouth. She flags the bartender, ordering herself something hard and strong.

Minato takes a sip and immediately wrinkles his nose, pinching his lips. "Blech."

Kinoko laughs at him, taking another swig.

Zenitsu pushes his glass towards Tsunade. "Please take mine, miss. I'll share with my brother."

"You can have it all, Zen-nii," Minato mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No way! I'll finish half. The rest is yours."

"Mmmggh... Gross. But I guess that's fair."

Jiraiya shakes his head. "You brats ain't got taste."

Tsunade grabs hold of Zenitsu's abandoned drink, downing the whole thing in one go. Tch. Barely enough to wet her throat. That bartender needs to hurry.

"Once we're done drinking, can we go home?" Minato asks, turning to Jiraiya.

"What's the rush? The night is young! Here, why don't you tell Orochi about that new seal of yours?"

"You've already shared this with us." Orochimaru points out.

"Yeah, so you'll hear it again." Jiraiya beams, nudging the boy forward. "Go on, Minato. Tell them about that new formula of yours. It has an area of effect so anyone stepping inside immediately loses a specific sense."

"It's a new formula of mine," Minato repeats dutifully. "It has an area of effect so anyone stepping inside immediately loses a specific sense."

Tsunade snorts, laughter bursting from her like fizz from a champagne bottle. "Check you out - showing off your kids. You're worse than some of the new fathers at the hospital."

Jiraiya reddens a bit before quickly rallying himself. "We-ell, can ya blame me? I've done all this hardwork to keep 'em alive! Naturally, I get to take credit for all the legendary stuff they'll do."

He claps the shoulder of Kinoko. "Like this kid! On our last mission, he stomped the ground so hard - a fissure formed between us and the enemy. It swallowed a man whole. Can you believe that? A full grown man! Twice his size! Tsunade-hime, you would've been impressed."

Tsunade nods along. When Jiraiya gets this excited, there's no stopping him. He's like a runaway train. She might as well enjoy the ride.

"Orochimaru-san," Minato calls out softly. "Sensei says that you've studied the Nidaime's works."

Her teammate raises a single, sculpted brow. "So I have."

Minato lights up. "Well, I've been studying his theories myself. Have you come across his notes on the Hiraishin?"

"Nerds," Jiraiya coughs out.

"Hush, toad. Intellectuals are speaking," Orochimaru replies with a haughty huff. He returns his attention to Minato. "You must be interested in his fuinjutsu techniques, correct?"

The pair descend into technical babble and Tsunade tunes them out. Her wandering stare finds Zenitsu hovering behind Minato and sneaking glances at her. Judging from the blush on his face and his constant fidgeting, he's clearly not following his brother's discussion.

When Zenitsu's eyes meet hers, he jolts, all his limbs locking. Tsunade sharpens her stare, frowning at him.

"Do you still play?" She asks.

Zenitsu squeaks before clearing his throat. "Ah, me? Well, I mean, yeah -"

"Great," Tsunade cuts him off. "Do you know the song that goes tang tang du du tang tang?"

Zenitsu gives her a confused look. "Uh, you mean tang tang du du tang tang?"

Huh. Nice voice. "That's the one! I've been trying to catch it on the radio. Can you play it?"

Zenitsu's blush spreads from him cheeks, down to his chin, and up to the roots of his hair. "I - I would love to play f-for you, heeheehee!"

"You don't have an instrument," the Akimichi kid very helpfully points out.

Zenitsu shoots him a heated glare. "Don't ruin this for me!"

"I'm just saying!"

Tsunade waves a dismissive hand. "This old joint keeps a shamisen around. Why don't you get up front and play? It's been awhile, right? Don't you miss it?"

Zenitsu shrugs. "I guess? Mostly I played to get fast cash..." Then he shuffles his feet, oddly avoiding her gaze. "How come you remember me?"

"I just do, kid." Tsunade turns to Jiraiya. "Oi, go get the shamisen. They keep it somewhere in the back."

Jiraiya reels back. "Eh? Why me?"

"Because I said so!"

Jiraiya groans, complaining under his breath. But he walks off, searching for whoever's in charge of this place. The bartender arrives with her drink - finally! It only took him an eternity. She picks up the glass of whiskey, taking a savoring sip. Ah yeah. Not bad.

Out the corner of her eyes, she spies Zenitsu studying her. The blush has vanished, leaving behind a curious expression. He's likely trying to figure out when they last met.

It had been a night like tonight, but worse. She was throwing herself a pity party for various reasons - the upcoming anniversary of her grandfather's death, the memory of her lost baby brother, the news of Uzushio's fall. At that time, the whole world seemed to be targeting her specifically. And in response, she was drinking herself stupid.

The bar was ready to cut her off, when this tiny, blond brat walked in. She didn't actually notice him until he passed her by. Not even ten years old, he looked extremely out of place. She thought that maybe his mom or dad was here and he came to drag their drunk ass home. But then he settled by the back wall, in a space apparently reserved for him. A shamisen was resting against a bar stool and he picked it up. That's when he really caught her attention.

The first notes got lost beneath the bawdy ramblings of a crowded bar. No one seemed to care about this shamisen-strumming blond. But he kept playing, steady and smooth. And her ears picked up the melody.

The boy was playing a folk song. It was a worn, familiar tune. She hadn't heard it in ages. The last time was back when Tobi-jii played it for her. She couldn't have been older than five. Nawaki hadn't been born. Her parents were still happy together.

All at once, the memories flooded in. Woven between the notes, Tsunade could hear grandpa laughing, grandma humming, and Saru-sensei tapping his feet. There was no special occasion to celebrate. They just happened to gather together on a hot, summer afternoon. Saru-sensei dropped by to visit Tobi-jii. Grandpa finished his work at the Hokage tower. Grandma left her private office to greet everyone. That was it. They all ended up in the living room where Tobi-jii kept his shamisen.

Tsunade remembered dancing. She had grabbed hold of Grandpa's hands, she had stood on his feet, and together, they swayed across the floor. Then Grandma scooped her out of his arms, so Grandpa turned to Saru-sensei and spun him around. Seated to the side, playing his shamisen, Tobi-jii grinned at the spectacle they made. It was one of the very few times she ever saw him smile.

She had forgotten about that strange and spontaneous afternoon. It had been buried beneath all her bad memories. Yet this tiny, no-name kid got her remembering like it was yesterday. And she braced herself for the pain that all her memories brought. But there was none. The echoes of past happiness curled against her ears like a long lost song.

That night, she raised her glass high and she sang along.

If a few tears slid down her cheeks, the droplets dried faster than they fell. Everyone else was busy hollering lyrics at the top of their lungs, or clearing the floor for a clumsy and tipsy jig. The usual collection of sorry excuses for shinobi came to life, clapping and cheering and laughing. In between all that noise, if a few started crying - everyone knew better than to see.

Tsunade saw the boy a few more times after that. He switched between the shakuhachi and the shamisen. But then, Tsunade found herself swamped with work and she ended up drinking at home. When she finally thought to visit the bar again, the small boy was not there. And he still wasn't there when she visited again. A pity. She wondered if she would ever hear him play again. She'd like to.

Now, Jiraiya returns with a shamisen. He hands it off to Zenitsu. Tsunade would be lying if she said that she wasn't a little excited. She watches as Zenitsu settles himself on a chair, tuning the strings with practiced ease.

Orochimaru hums in thought. "With such students, I am starting to reconsider my stance on teaching. Perhaps I should acquire an apprentice."

"Sure, as long as you don't take any of mine," Jiraiya says with a laugh.

"It's been so long since Zen-nii got to play," Minato murmurs wistfully.

No doubt they were too busy with missions and training and all other things involved with earning a promotion. Tsunade rubs the calluses of her palm, the mark of endless hours handling shuriken and kunai. Zenitsu bears the same calluses. He must in order to survive this war. Yet, there's no guarantee that he will.

The first note rings out pure and clear from an expertly plucked string. Tsunade allows herself a satisfied grin as she knocks back the rest of her drink. Ah yes. Zenitsu replicates the radio song with envious ease. Even with weapon worn hands, he can still play perfectly. She thunks her empty glass on the nearest flat surface before grabbing hold of Jiraiya.

"Let's go! You like this song! I know you do!" She says, as she starts swinging them around. It would be too generous to call this a dance. But it couldn't be called anything else.

Jiraiya is stunned and stupid and far too pleased to stop her. He matches her movements as best he can. Behind them, Orochimaru nods in time with the rhythm, clapping his hands. The other drunkards are quick to catch on - the rowdier punks improvising lyrics which they belt out at the top of their lungs. And some boldly join Tsunade and Jiraiya, despite lacking any sort of finesse.

It's a chaotic roar of noise filled with garbled words, stomping feet, and incoherent shouting. It's perfect, she thinks as Jiraiya acquires enough wits to dip her. Of course, he leans in for a smooch and she punches him right on his kisser. He rocks back, momentum pulling them apart, and she finds herself stumbling right into someone's arms.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean -"

"No, no, please! And you were having so much fun! Don't mind me." The man smiles at her.

Tsunade finds herself staring into a pair of dark green eyes. His hair was a pale blue color, straight and long enough to fall over his shoulders. He clears his throat and she's still in his arms, isn't she?

"I think I'd have more fun with you," Tsunade says, because Grandma taught her well.

The man turns redder than a ripe cherry. She cackles and steps away just enough to drag him out. An obedient guy, or maybe because a pretty blonde is ordering him around, he follows her lead. Their feet pick up the tune and away they went, joining the other dancers.

"My name's Dan," he tells her, leaning in so he could be heard better.

She watches the way his throat bobs as he speaks. Then she lifts her eyes to meet his gaze, and she grins.

"I'm Tsunade."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Zenitsu hears the door open. He's been listening to Minato walk home so he more or less knows what to expect. But then his eyes catch sight of the quickly purpling bruise on his brother's cheek, and he winces hard.

"Welcome home! You look awful!"

Minato says nothing, scowling at him.

"Yeah, alright. Run this by me again. I mean, I heard the 'smack' and... Just - Just go over the conversation."

But Minato is in a bad mood so he stays silent. Zenitsu rolls his eyes and shrugs, going back to Jiraiya-sensei's draft. Then he winces again for an entirely different (or maybe not so different) reason. Honestly, why is everyone around him so hopeless around women?

Also, he's no doctor but he's fairly sure that Jiraiya's description of the female form is not, like, physically possible. He strikes out the whole sentence with a bright red pen. This goes on for a while and Zenitsu half listens as Minato simmers like a pot coming to a boil. When a loud whistling noise hisses out of him, Zenitsu (very patiently) does not look up or ask anything as his brother comes to sit on the other side of the table.

"Kushina got into another fight with one of our former classmates. She won, of course, but she was reported to the police so I had to come bail her out. Then, I told her that she has to stop harming our comrades. And she tells me! She tells me that we aren't comrades because she's not a Konoha nin!"

Zenitsu actually already knows how this ends. But he forces himself to not move or speak until Minato finishes his story.

"So I say to her! I say to her that she's wrong. She is a Konoha nin. She can't be anything else because Uzushio's been wrecked to pieces and she's homeless now. She has to move on."

There it is. Hearing it from Minato's mouth is not better than (accidentally) eavesdropping from halfway across town. Kushina naturally decked his brother before cussing him out and fleeing.

Zenitsu pinches the bridge of his nose. "Minato, if she hadn't hit you, then I definitely would have."

"I didn't say anything wrong!" His twin protests. Zenitsu's not deaf to the half-hidden note of hurt in his voice.

But he doesn't budge. "Oh yeah, you're a real genius, alright. Nothing you say is ever 'wrong'."

"She is homeless! And I just - she doesn't have to be! Konoha can be her new home! Is it so bad that I don't want her to be miserable?" His baby brother crosses his arms. The hurt noise is not hidden anymore.

Minato is all of ten years old and he already thinks that he knows everything there is to know. Stupid child. Well, sometimes, making a mistake is the only way to learn.

Zenitsu sighs. "You're a very kind boy. You're just not very nice."

Minato jumps to his feet. "Your idea of nice is treating every girl like they can't do anything wrong. Kushina would have punched you too."

Then he storms off, back out the front door. Their apartment is too small to have separate rooms. There's the main room which doubles as their sleeping and living area, the bathroom in the back and a kitchen space next to the front door. If Minato had the option, he'd hole himself up in his room to sulk. But he doesn't have his own room so he just goes for a very long walk around the village.

Either that, or he'll find Jiraiya-sensei wherever he's hiding. Zenitsu hopes that the man will set his little brother straight. He may not understand basic female anatomy (if his writing is any indicator), but he has a slightly more deft touch at pointing out when someone's being an insensitive jerk.

Now, where did he leave off? Oh yes, Menma was trying to woo the fiery but thick-headed Rayu.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Hell is a place on earth. And it can be found on the Kiri-Konoha border. Fugaku would know. He's been stuck in the same trench, across those kappa-looking bastards, for the last 23 weeks. And he's been soggy the whole time. If he wasn't dodging water bullets, then the fog and the rain kept his clothes nice and moist.

"Incoming!" He yells, skidding back as a wave crests over the sandbags lining their camp.

It's not really a camp. It's a sad arrangement of half unpacked kits - a couple of tin cups, a few unrolled scrolls, and some sleeping mats slowly sinking into the mud. But it is theirs and those fishy bitches can't have it.

Fugaku is already pulling out a handful of shuriken. His attack plan is basically to throw as many pointy things he can, at as many targets he can see. Most of his jutsu arsenal is fire based, which surprise! Those don't do so hot against water jutsus. That leaves shurikens and kunais and if he gets close enough, a tanto to the nuts.

"Oh shit! It's the chibi chuunin," shouts one of Fugaku's squadmates.

He doesn't get a chance to react before an explosive wind jutsu undercuts the current of the wave. Then, the ground shakes as a sinkhole caves in front of them, draining the water jutsu. For a finale, there's a blinding flash followed by the roar of thunder - the signature of an increasingly infamous technique.

The Kiri squad get a single second to marvel at the sealing tags now attached to their foreheads.

"Fuin: Sensory Modifier Jutsu!"

The Kiri squad drops. They scream, clawing at their eyes and ears. The blinding flash slides to a stop in front of Fugaku, and glares at him.

"Go! What part of the retreat order did you not understand?"

Fugaku does not know the reason for Namikaze Zenitsu hating his guts. But even after that display of incomprehensible speed, he would feel more threatened by a feral cat. Likely, it's on account of Zenitsu having a chubby, baby face and barely reaching his chest.

"You could have killed them all," he points out. "They couldn't react fast enough to keep up with you."

"Our job is to get you out of here," Zenitsu says, now actually pushing him back. "Killing Kiri nin is not part of our mission parameters."

Fugaku snorts, digging his heels in. "Oh I guarantee that it was heavily implied."

"You kill them then!" Zenitsu grunts, throwing more of his weight against him. "They can't fight back while Minato got his jutsu active."

"Which I can't keep up for very long!" the younger Namikaze shouts. "So if we could hurry up, I would be very grateful!"

Fugaku matches Zenitsu's glare before relaxing against the boy's push. When faced with no resistance, Zenitsu stumbles and falls face first into the mud. Fugaku allows himself a second of spiteful glee. Then he realizes that he picked on a kid nine years younger than him, and he promptly feels like an idiot.

Spinning on his heel, Fugaku leaps away. His squadmates follow right after him. The third member of the chibi chuunin squad, a robust Akimichi boy, nod at them as they pass him by. The kid already got one hand super inflated and raised high above. Once Fugaku and everyone else is clear, the Akimichi boy drops his hand. The earth bursts apart in large chunks, trapping the Kiri nin in several deep fissures.

Overall, it was a fairly painless extraction. The chibi chuunin squad really is something else. That's not their official name, of course. But that's the nickname they got stuck with for very obvious reasons.

Now Fugaku made jounin at the prodigious age of nineteen. His parents were very proud. Ha! See, he can be funny. His parents are never proud. They suffer from something like early onset rigor mortis. Their expressions are forever stuck as mildly disturbed and slightly unimpressed.

But seriously, he is fully aware that becoming a jounin at nineteen is a respectable feat. He could have done better, sure. But he's adequately accepting - not proud per se but not ashamed either. Then these three brats came in - chuunin at 11, every single one. They're the genius squad of Lord Third's student. Fugaku considers himself lucky that Jiraiya is not present with them. That man could shower infinite praises for his team. It was sickening.

"What does Mikoto-chan see in that guy?" Zenitsu whines, loud enough for Fugaku to hear. That's probably on purpose.

As literally the bigger man, Fugaku refuses to take the bait. There's no point in arguing anyways. The little shit won't accept the fact that the marriage has been arranged since he was a kid. It's a partnership not a love match.

"Some people get all the luck," Zenitsu continues. "Right, Minato?"

"I'd prefer to pick my wife than have someone pick for me," his twin replies.

Honestly, the Akimichi and the younger Namikaze aren't so bad. They could even be tolerable, if Fugaku is being honest. It's just that Zenitsu brat. Given a chance, he would drop kick the kid off the closest available cliff.

"That's riiiiiiight. Then you'd get to pick Kushina-chan."

"Stop it, Zen-nii! I don't - It's not like that!"

"Heeheehee, sure, sure. Whatever you - GET DOWN!"

Fugaku doesn't think. He just throws himself to the ground. One heartbeat later, a spray of waterbullets fly above his head.

"Three in pursuit! Fugaku, on your left!"

Sharingan whirling, he slaps together the handseals for a massive fireball jutsu. It hits the Kiri nin right in the face. The stench of burnt meat fills the air, as the enemy's camouflage jutsu falls apart. He moves on before the blackened body could hit the dirt.

His squadmate had taken on the second Kiri nin. From the looks of things, their enemy had not been expecting to be caught out. That's a fair assumption. No one on their team had the Byakugan, and it is possible to hide from a sensor. But Zenitsu figured them out. He might be insufferable but the brat had earned his rank. If Fugaku felt gracious, he would have been impressed.

With a snap of his wrist, he embeds a kunai into the neck of the second Kiri nin. The blood sprays as he sweeps around to tackle the third and final Kiri nin. He finds the enemy on top of the younger Namikaze. The handle of a kunai sticks out from the meat of Namikaze's shoulder. But the kid had a seal between the Kiri nin's eyes. Between one second and the next, the last of their enemy collapses. Fugaku's sharingan watches as the man's chakra fades, abandoning the dead body.

Just a few steps away, lightning snaps and pops from Zenitsu's frozen form. He must have been on the verge of dashing forward. But his twin had been faster this time around.

The Akimichi kid hurries over, propping Namikaze up. They don't pull out the kunai, just like they were taught. Satisfied, Fugaku returns his attention to Zenitsu.

"This is why you kill them, every and any chance you get. Or else they will kill you."

Zenitsu flinches. The lightning flickers away. He bows his head, blond bangs hiding his eyes.

"Any more in pursuit?" He asks.

"No, sir."

Fugaku scans the surrounding area, checking for himself. His sharingan doesn't pick up any chakra signature or any signs of a masked signature. He nods and faces forward once more, gesturing for everyone to follow.

"Alright, we move out."

They make their way back to Konoha's main camp. His squad runs careful and efficient, untouched from the last encounter and on the lookout for another. Namikaze somehow keeps the kunai from moving around with every step he takes. Akimichi hovers behind him, quiet and quick for a boy of his notable girth. Zenitsu brings up the rear. Despite the hitai-ite pulled over his eyes, he moves with certainty and grace, swift and silent as unforeseen death.

Next time, because there is always a next time, they will do better. They will be ready. Fugaku prays that it will be enough.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

The Third Hokage sits at his desk, stuffing his pipe. With a snap of his fingers, the tobacco begins to burn. He puffs out a thin cloud of smoke as his eyes drift shut.

Jiraiya sits on the window ledge, watching him. The afternoon light does not favor his sensei, deepening each fold on his face, highlighting each strand of gray hair. He appears older than a man in his forties, but ruling a military settlement would age anyone. Jiraiya is betting on Orochimaru to succeed their sensei because he sure as sugar won't. Avoiding that accursed hat is one of his life goals (the others involve women, wine, and Tsunade in a bikini).

"So your students are chuunin now," Saru-sensei murmurs, blowing smoke out his nose.

"Yep," Jiraiya nods. "I'm gonna take 'em to the bar, yanno - treat 'em to a pint."

"Didn't they just turn eleven?"

"Don't be such a fuddy duddy, sensei."

The old man chuckles. "Just don't make the same mistakes I did, Jiraiya-kun. If any of your boys have a taste for liquor like Tsunade did, you'll be bankrupt before midnight."

"And they'll be an alcoholic by sixteen." Jiraiya snorts. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't gotta tell me. I'm the sorry bastard that holds back her hair whenever she pukes."

Saru-sensei replies with a non-commital hum. He's never been privy to the aftermath of Tsunade's binges. Before they could hit eighteen, the village had grown too large for Saru-sensei to stay their sensei. His Hokage duties always took priority, of course.

"They'll have one pint. Then I'm cutting them off, don't you worry about it," Jiraiya tells him.

Saru-sensei grins, eyes pinching shut. "My, my. Look at you. So responsible. Giving you a genin team turned out to a good decision after all."

Jiraiya rolls his eyes and turns away, looking at the village spread below. He notes the grocers, the florists, the cobblers, and the tailors. They pass each other by with their "How do you do" and "I'm fine thank you". It's all very quaint and quiet and quintessentially boring. But it's the lifestyle some choose, he supposes. Immediately, he can name a blond brat who would opt for it.

"Yeah so..." Jiraiya clears his throat, not facing the old man. "About my boys..."

There's a second of silence behind him. He can feel a piercing gaze needling the back of his neck. The acrid scent of tobacco drifts close, carried by a fresh cloud of smoke. Saru-sensei sighs.

"Your students are quite prodigious. They came highly recommended. Their missions at the border have saved many of our incoming shinobi. You have done well for yourself. So..."

Jiraiya winces. "Here it comes..."

"As chuunin, they no longer need to operate as a team. Your boys will be dispersed through the ranks, possibly assigned to completely different stations."

He faces his sensei, putting his hands up. "Right, no, I gotcha. But hey! I was thinking!"

"There's a first for everything, I suppose."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just let me - hear me out, okay? What if… We didn't separate my boys."

Sensei shakes his head. "You know that's an inefficient use of our resources."

"They're not - well I mean, they are. Shinobi work for the village. But - See, the thing is - You know, they're not just mindless dolls. So I just -"

"Jiraiya," the Third Hokage cuts through his rambling. With a hard look, his commander in chief pins him in place. "Say what you mean to say."

He breathes in a slow, lungful of air. "If you separate Zenitsu from Minato, I can almost guarantee that Zenitsu will become a rogue nin."

The old man clicks his tongue. "You haven't fixed the problem of his loyalties, I see."

"Naw, Zenitsu's plenty loyal. He may be more loyal to this village than you or me. But he's not... an obedient kid."

Sensei puffs on his pipe, ruminating on Jiraiya's words. "And what of his younger brother?"

"Minato's great - way easier to deal with. The kid doesn't have a rebellious bone in his body. And he can work alone, sure. But he's never tried to leave his twin either."

Sensei gestures for him to go on.

"Zenitsu's the deal breaker," Jiraiya explains. "If he wants to stick with Minato, then Minato will fight to stay together. If he wants to go solo, then Minato will let him leave... I think."

"You think? As their teacher, shouldn't you know for sure?"

"Oh, as if you can talk. Orochimaru ran circles around you."

Sensei chuckles at this. But his mirth fades far too quickly for Jiraiya's liking. He sees fewer and fewer flashes of the man who had raised him. Now, there is only the Hokage, the third to take this title.

"Hmmm, what of your other boy?"

"Kinoko? What about him?"

"I don't recall giving you a two-man team, Jiraiya."

"No, you gave me one problem child."

"A problem which you did not fix."

Jiraiya lifts his chin and meets the Hokage's gaze. "Zenitsu does not need fixing. He's a good boy. He works hard to protect his teammates."

"But he is not obedient. Ergo, he is not loyal to this village."

"Your definition of loyalty should not be synonymous with obedience."

Pressure slams down on Jiraiya's shoulders. He had crossed a line. Once those words left his lips, he knew that mistakes were made. But, in a fit of rebellion, a single treasonous thought flits through his mind. Mistakes were made, but not by his boys, and not by him - not here and now.

The Hokage studies him with intense scrutiny, allowing his chakra to boil the air. But there's no killing intent, no implied threat, only the heavy, suffocating weight of expectation. Jiraiya clenches his jaw, biting his tongue. He didn't come here to start an argument. Breathing out hard, he bows his head.

"Hokage-sama, my students… They have not fulfilled their full potential as a team. And that's the aim with these jounin-genin squads, right? Lord Second taught you and your teammates to act as a single unit, and you became the greatest of your generation."

There's a long and drawn out pause. With his gaze fixed on the floor, Jiraiya cannot see the Hokage's expression. He can only hear a soft hum as the old man thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. There's the tap tap of a pipe emptying its ashes, followed by the screech of a chair sliding back. Footsteps approach Jiraiya as a shadow enters his sight. He looks up.

Saru-sensei stands before him, a curious expression on his face.

"I haven't seen the top of your head in a long time, Jiraiya," he says, apropos of nothing. "How long has it been? Hm? Since you became taller than me?"

Jiraiya blinks. "Uh, since puberty, I guess."

Saru-sensei smiles, something tender and fragile collecting in the corners of his eyes. "Yes, well. I shouldn't be too surprised. The job of a child is to grow, after all."

Saru-sensei steps away, heading for the door.

"Wait, sensei!" Jiraiya reaches out to grab hold of his robe, but he hesitates just before his fingers could touch the fabric.

"Your students shall stay together, for the foreseeable future at least," Sensei tells him, stopping just out of reach. His back continues to face Jiraiya. "But, you along with Orochimaru and Tsunade - your team will head out to the Iwa-Ame border. There is business to take care of. And you are the greatest of your generation."

Jiraiya kisses his teeth and crosses his arms. Clever sensei, throwing his words right back at him. "Right, right. Should I let them know?"

"If you'd like. When was the last time you three got together?" Sensei resumes walking and reaches the door. Turning the knob, he glances over his shoulder and throws a grin at Jiraiya. "Best not to loiter here. Weren't you bringing your boys to the bar? Go have fun."

The door creaks open and he walks out. Jiraiya sits in the Hokage's office, entrusted to be alone in such a key place. The portraits of the past Hokage catch his eyes. Lord First and Lord Second stare at him sternly. He briefly remembers them from short visits to Tsunade's house as tiny, tiny children. He wonders idly if he would be taller than them.

"See ya later, sensei." He nods at Lord Third's portrait, before leaping out the window.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Why do you have to walk me home?" Kakashi frowns, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's not even dark yet."

"We just want to make sure that you're safe," Minato replies, cheerful as ever. Kakashi is never calling him sensei.

"Okay, but why is he here?"

Zenitsu says nothing in reply. He's keeping his eyes forward. His neck appears stiff with the effort to keep him from turning his head.

Dad told him to stick with Minato. But he didn't say anything about this total weirdo. Kakashi wants to ditch him somehow. But so far, every attempt has failed spectacularly. Minato, the useless bum, offers no help and welcomes Zenitsu's presence. It's absolute torture.

"Zen-nii is keeping you safe, just like me," Minato tells him.

"Yeah? Then why does he keep picking fights with the people around me? That's not creating a safe environment."

Not even half an hour ago, when they were picking up groceries, Zenitsu pointed at some random guy on the other side of the street. He started yelling about "ungrateful asshole" this and "punkass bitch" that. Naturally, the guy got a little offended and there was more yelling. Others joined in. The police had to be called over. It was a big, noisy mess.

Minato had kept his twin from throwing hands, which is the only thing that kept Zenitsu from going to jail. But it had been a real close call. Captain Fugaku did not look happy - almost leaking killer intent.

By the end of it all, they somehow managed to finish shopping. Kakashi got overcharged a few times, then Minato stepped in, smiling nice and wide, with lots of shiny teeth. Folks found special discounts real fast.

Now, they're on their way back to Kakashi's house. After their close encounter with the cops, Zenitsu had not spoken. Only his legs kept moving. The rest of him stayed eerily still, like a living statue. For a guy that's almost constantly emoting - waving around his arms or crying his eyes out, the lack of motion looked unnatural.

Thankfully, Kakashi's house is within sight. Then these two bozos can clear out. Right?

Wrong. They walk in after Kakashi. And to be very clear, he did not invite them in. The twins truly earned their reputation as speedsters because they take off their sandals and cross the genkan before Kakashi could say a word to stop them. Minato walks around the living room and Zenitsu heads straight for the kitchen.

"Oi!" He yells out, as Zenitsu starts opening cupboards. "You can't just -"

"Where's Sakumo-san?" Minato asks, poking his head out the window as if he could somehow find Dad that way. "Nice garden."

"I dunno." Kakashi walks up behind Zenitsu and starts shutting every open cupboard.

Zenitsu frowns at him, as if Kakashi is the bad guy here. "I'm trying to put away your groceries."

"Well, can you not? It's my house. Those are my groceries. I can put them away."

Zenitsu raises an eyebrow. "You can't even reach the top shelves."

Kakashi starts climbing onto the counter, channeling chakra to his hands and feet because he's not a reckless idiot. Zenitsu still panics and grabs hold of him. The blond crybaby is stronger than he looks because he peels Kakashi off the furniture with ease.

"Stop that, you little gremlin!" Zenitsu barks, setting him back on the floor. He keeps his hands on Kakashi's shoulders, preventing him from trying again. "Can't you - I don't know - play with your toys or something?"

"I'm not a baby," Kakashi sneers. "I'm a genin, and in case you missed the memo, I'm a full-fledged shinobi just like you."

"Okay, Mr. Full Fledged Shinobi. I'm a jounin, and currently, your commanding officer. And I'm ordering you to get out of the kitchen. You don't have to play. You can wash up or something."

Zenitsu forcefully turns him around and pushes him into the hallway. Minato is there, waiting for him with his ever-present grin.

"Did Sakumo-san say where he went?"

Kakashi shrugs. "He likes to go on walks. Since he's on that probation nonsense, he's not even allowed on the training grounds. So he ends up taking a walk around the village."

"Around the village…" Minato echoes, his eyes flicking up.

Over Kakashi's head, the Namikazes share a look. They do that weird telepathy thing that only twins have. Kakashi scowls, crossing his arms.

"Can you two leave already?"

"Sorry, kiddo…" Minato says, not sounding sorry at all. "We gotta stick around until your Dad comes back."

"Why? We aren't training anymore. I'm at home so there's no need to 'keep me safe'. What's going on? Is there something that you're not telling me?"

"Yes," Zenitsu answers.

Kakashi whips around to stare at Zenitsu. Unbelievable! He actually said it!

"You'll figure it out when you're older," Zenitsu tells him.

Huh?! "What's that supposed to mean?" Kakashi stomps his foot.

"Didn't you hear me? You'll figure it out when you're older. And even if you don't… Then we'll tell you once you're a jounin like us."

Kakashi squints at him. "So it's some kind of confidential information… On a need to know basis… I must not have enough security clearance as a genin.

Zenitsu gives him a flat look. "Wow. You really are a genius."

Kakashi lifts his chin. "I'm the youngest Academy graduate in history. Don't patronize me."

Then he walks away, heading for the bathroom. He washes up but not because of Zenitsu's suggestion. Dad taught him to always wash up right after he gets home. It's all just standard procedure. Honestly, who doesn't wash up after entering a house? Well, Zenitsu and Minato didn't. What a couple of slobs. Ruffians. Degenerates. Kakashi is totally telling Dad.

Once his hands are dry, he peeks into the hallway. No one is there. They must think that he's entertaining himself. And he will… by spying on them. He's a shinobi. Rank-schmank. Learning classified information is part of his job. Really, this is the perfect opportunity to practice his stealth and they're supposed to be training him. So…

He sticks to the wall because no shinobi worth their salt would walk on the floor when sneaking around. And sure, his house doesn't have one of those fancy nightingale floors. But they don't need something like that. They're Hatake. They have sensitive ears and noses, so they would know if anyone comes into their house.

"... that Sakumo-san…"

Oh! They're talking about Dad! Kakashi creeps forward, pressing his ear against the wall. If only he could hear like Dad can, he'd know what they were talking about. Between the two of them, Dad got better ears and Kakashi got the better nose. He's real good at tracking, just ask Pakkun. Except his nose isn't much help in a situation like this. Tch.

"... the Hokage…"

That sounds like Minato. He shifts a little further up the hall until he's a step away from the living room entrance. They left the door wide open and now that he's this close, he can hear them clearly. Idiots. It's standard protocol to secure an area when speaking about confidential topics.

"Sometimes, I really hate this village." That's Zenitsu talking.

"Don't say that. You can't." There's Minato's reply.

"Can't what? I can't say it? Or I can't hate this village?"

"Zen-nii... This village is our home."

"Yeah well... Going rogue is still on the table. We'll take the Hatake with us."

Kakashi's breath catches in his throat. Silence stretches the seconds as he presses his ear harder against the wall. Are they talking about treason? Are they planning to defect? What is going on??

"... Oh please. You could never turn your back on the people who need you. Vile and spoiled and awful as they are, if they asked you for help, you would give it."

"Geez, Minato. I'm not that good. I'm not you. I swear... One of these days, you'll end up sacrificing yourself in service of a village that would spit on your memory."

There's the shuffling sound of fabric rubbing against fabric. He hears a hand clapping the top of a shoulder pad. Someone takes a short, aborted breath.

"... Where are you right now? I can't seem to reach you."

"Sorry. I just..." A jagged laugh. "Don't sound like that. You don't hafta be scared. I won't actually become a missing nin. I would never leave you behind."

"... Of course..."

"Eh? Your sound got worse?!"

Sound? What sound? Kakashi can't pick up on any other sound apart from their voices. So what… Oh. Oh wait. Maybe they're speaking in code. Maybe this whole conversation is encrypted. Kakashi resists the urge to smack himself in the face. Stupid. Of course, they'd use code. That means he's learned absolutely nothing. Tch.

"Sometimes, I really resent those ears of yours." A sigh. "I'm fine. I'm just sad because you're sad."

There's more shuffling noises. A floorboard creaks as someone rests too much weight on it. Kakashi clenches his fist. There's no point in listening to them, and yet he can't walk away. They're moving around - doing stuff. Holding his breath, he braves a peek around the corner.

Kakashi finds the twins on their feet in the living room. Zenitsu has both arms wrapped around his brother, resting his chin on Minato's shoulder. This gives Kakashi a full view of Zenitsu's face. His serene expression bears none of the misery and anxiety from his earlier speech.

"We'll be okay. I'll get through this. I always do."

Brown eyes slide open, and Zenitsu catches sight of Kakashi. He doesn't look surprised at all. He must have known that Kakashi was there the whole time. Well, he is a jounin so he must be skilled in some way.

Kakashi has a sharp retort ready on his tongue. But then a breeze disturbs the curtains, letting in some natural light. And beneath the glow of a setting sun, the brown of Zenitsu's eyes turn a molten gold. The words die in Kakashi's throat.

Sixteen and six leave only ten years of difference. At that moment, the difference seems like an entire lifetime. And sure, shinobi see too much with such short lives. Premature aging is common enough. But this feels more somehow, deeper and older. A sense of reverence rises within Kakashi, in the same way a young boy reveres the arrowhead he found beneath the rocks of his home. It is an unexpected treasure in need of careful protection.

Hmph.

When Dad comes back, then Kakashi can kick them out. For now… He can find a scroll or a book or something to entertain himself with. So, with a short bow of his head, he turns around and he leaves the brothers alone.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

The Second Shinobi War is almost over. Kinoko doesn't need Zenitsu's ears to hear the whispers on the wind. The war is almost over. The White Fang - Konoha's White Fang - tore apart Suna's Puppeteer Brigade. They say that pieces remain scattered across the sands - charred to fine cinders from the burn of his blade. With the loss of their brigade, Suna had to pull back their forces, burying themselves back into the dunes where they rightfully belong. It's only a matter of time before the Kazekage seeks a meeting with the Hokage. And that leaves only one last war front to deal with.

Kiri was a loss. Konoha had ceded it almost immediately after the war began. Without the Uzushio nin to support them, the Kiri troops were able to outwit and outlast Konoha. They had the home advantage, after all. Fire knows nothing of water and its tides. Kinoko and his team were the last shinobi sent to that war front. And they had been placed there specifically to assist with the retreat.

They tried to hold onto the lands under their protection. But despite their best efforts, Wave and all the smaller villages are now left to fend for themselves. Everyone more or less understood that the war against Kiri was nothing more than a token retaliation for the destruction of Uzushio. They didn't want to lose face so they entered a war where victory is near impossible. Their current stalemate is considered nothing short of a miracle.

Kinoko isn't prone to dwelling on such maudlin thoughts. So he takes comfort in returning home before the other platoons. His beloved village had started a fight with just about every other nation on the map. They had shinobi sent to every direction on the compass.

With Kumo, it was more of a cold war. They remember the loss of Lord Second and even if the Kinkaku were rogue nin, Konoha harbored a healthy respect for all Kumo nin to this day. Either that or Lord Third suffered some form of trauma which kept him from escalating the situation. As a result, the shinobi stationed at the northern front were the first to return. Kumo had switched their attentions to Iwa, which began a mutual demilitarization along their shared border.

Then, the western front returned from Kiri. Their numbers were shaved thin and the survivors were left in a sorry state. Prolonged exposure to chill and mud resulted in sick shinobi. His team only managed to avoid that fate because they were constantly on the move. They traveled from squad to squad, escorting them away from the frontline. No trenches for them, thank the Sage.

And now, the eastern front is set to follow them. In higher and drier spirits, it seems if there's any truth to the rumors of victory. They say that the White Fang, Hatake Sakumo, will soon be the Fourth Hokage. The crowds certainly favor the idea, judging from the grins on their faces whenever Kinoko wanders about the market. Minato may or may not be counting down to the supposed Hokage Succession Ceremony. The youngest Namikaze is by the far the biggest fan of their legendary White Fang. Zenitsu says that he even taped up one of the White Fang's bounty posters in their apartment. Minato says that his brother is a liar and a traitor who must not be trusted.

Kinoko does see more and more shinobi return as the days pass. The whispers reach a fever pitch and he's not the type to nurse expectations, but there's a hum of hope that spreads like a fever across the village. He is not immune.

There is only one more platoon of shinobi in active combat. Once they come home, then the war that has officially raged for two years, and unofficially for nearly decade - the Second Shinobi War will finally end. Kinoko finds it fitting that this last platoon includes their wayward sensei. The reunion of their whole team will mark the beginning of the celebrations. It's really almost poetic.

No one knew when the last platoon would return. They were stationed at the Iwa-Ame border. Originally, Konoha had been fighting Iwa, with Ame caught in the crossfire. But the tiny village did not appreciate becoming a battleground and went to work kicking both sides out. Sensei and his teammates are frontline fighters like Kinoko and his teammates. But unlike Kinoko's team, currently specializing in damage deflection, Sensei's team specializes in breaking formations. They were likely sent to push Konoha's forces past the Ame nin and charge straight at Iwa.

Without a doubt, that north-eastern zone is the most contested out of all their war fronts. Only a few made it back, with a large majority coming home in body scrolls. Squads had been wiped out completely, leaving no survivor to return the bodies of fallen comrades. They definitely needed Jiraiya-sensei's help.

"Don't forget Tsunade-hime," Zen-nii tells him. "With her gentle care, more shinobi will survive the trip home."

"No offense meant to the lady, but there is nothing about Senju Tsunade that I would consider gentle," Uchiha Mikoto replies.

"Stop dodging, you sissy jerk!" Kushina yells.

"And just let you hit me? Why?" Minato asks, and he sounds so sincerely confused, the poor bastard.

Kinoko sits beneath the awning of their favorite taiyaki shop. Since Zenitsu has an insatiable sweet tooth, the team often found themselves hanging outside this shop. It's close to the Uchiha neighborhood, so inevitably they kept running into Mikoto and Kushina. That was probably the plan all along, Kinoko suspects, glancing at Zenitsu.

"Isn't your brother considered a prodigy?" Mikoto asks, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

"Only with unimportant stuff like maths and sciences," Zenitsu dismissively waves his hand. "He's absolutely pits at basic life skills, like talking to girls for example."

Kinoko snorts so loud, a red bean nearly shoots out his nose. He starts coughing and hacking, trying to clear out his sinuses. Mikoto kindly rubs his back as she gives Zenitsu a flat look.

"You are in no position to speak of proper treatment towards girls and women," Mikoto says primly.

She really is quite mature and dignified. Sure, she's about four years older than them. But her proper posture and impeccable manners signify a high-class upbringing. The Akimichi clan may be one of the four noble clans, but his cousin Choza, the clan heir, doesn't act with half as much poise. The Uchiha sure are something else.

Compared to graceful, porcelain Mikoto, the scruffy, constantly dusty Kushina is her exact opposite. Yet despite the age gap and multiple personality differences, somehow these two girls are the best of friends. Well, as people like to say, opposites attract.

There's a final, frustrated screech before Kushina throws her taiyaki at Minato. He leaps forward to catch it as she whips around and walks away.

"See you around, Kushina-chan!" Mikoto calls out.

Without looking back, Kushina flicks her hand up. "Catch you later, Mikoto-chan."

Minato shuffles back to them, clutching Kushina's abandoned snack. "Mikoto-san, how did you befriend her? Could you teach me?"

Mikoto giggles, covering her smile with the tips of her fingers. "Oh, I'm afraid not. We bonded in jail, after all."

That causes Kinoko to choke once more. Mikoto more firmly pats his back. Massaging his throat, Kinoko looks at her with his jaw hanging slack.

Zenitsu rolls his eyes. "She was Kushina-chan's intake officer once. You know how Kushina-chan gets - picking fights with everyone. She's been thrown in jail a few times now. Didn't we tell you about it?"

"On one of those occasions, we had a good long chat." Mikoto nods. "Ah, well.. She didn't really have a choice due to her imprisonment. But we ended up learning a lot about each other. We have more in common than people think."

"Mikoto-chan snuck her some ramen too," Zenitsu adds. "I think that sealed the deal."

Mikoto is too proper to shrug but she somehow implies the gesture through the curve of her grin.

"So what you're saying is... I have to trap her for awhile then feed her ramen when she gets hungry..." Minato murmurs with a thoughtful expression.

Mikoto blinks at that. "Are we certain that you're a genius? Perhaps the Academy made a mistake in your assessment."

"My brother was joking, Mikoto-chan."
"I was joking."

She tilts her head, not appearing convinced. Minato always had trouble expressing sarcasm. Kinoko gives him the benefit of the doubt.

"Next time, let's not call Kushina-chan's traditional fuuinjutsu as outdated, clunky, and better off forgotten. Why don't we start there, hm?" Mikoto tells him.

Minato opens his mouth, preparing a retort. Then a yell interrupts him. Kinoko looks over his shoulder to find Kushina rushing back. Her face is bright with unfiltered glee.

"They're back! The sensors at the gate! They sensed Auntie Tsuna's chakra! They're coming home!"

Kinoko turns to exchange a look with his teammates. The twins wear shock and joy openly on their faces. Kinoko can feel a grin stretching across his cheeks. They scramble away from the shop, leaping up to the roofs and dashing for the gates. Kinoko may not be as fast as the twins but after so much training with them, he is now the fastest in his clan. They far outpace Kushina and Mikoto, nearly crashing into the check in desk as they screech to a stop.

Minato tugs at Zenitsu. "Can you hear them? Can you hear them? Oh, I think - Yes, I sense Tsunade-hime's chakra. Wow, that's a lot. And the one next to her... Is that - No, it's Orochimaru-san. Right, that's Orochimaru-san? But then..."

Kinoko watches Zenitsu. His teammate has both eyes squeezed shut and a hand cupped around each ear. He's seen this often enough to know that Zenitsu is searching for a specific sound. But if he's searching, then something is missing. A cold clump forms in Kinoko's stomach.

The wait feels too long and too short at the same time. Beads of sweat begin rolling down his brow. He grows more and more nauseous with each passing minute. The taiyaki is making a return and with a vengeance. Somehow, he keeps his eyes forward, watching the road.

Zenitsu's breath hitches at the same time Minato staggers back. The twins know before he does, because of course they would. Between Minato's budding sensory skills and Zenitsu's extreme hearing, there's very little that could escape their notice, especially when they focus. Most of the time, Kinoko wishes to have an equivalent skill, but not today, not here, not now. He can be blind, deaf, and dumb if it buys him a few more seconds of blissful ignorance.

Except there is no way to stop the inevitable. His eyes pick out two shinobi dragging themselves down the road. He notes the blond and black hair. He notes a serpent's grace and the proud posture of a princess. He sees that and that alone. There is no one else.

Minato takes a step forward, then immediately pulls his foot back. Even with eyes shut, Zenitsu manages to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. Tsunade-hime and Orochimaru see all three of them waiting at the gate. They share a look and they keep walking, never breaking their strides. Exhaustion is embedded in all of their movements, but they maintain a composure solid and opaque as stone. They reach the gates, stopping a few steps from them.

For the first time in their team's history, Kinoko acts before his teammates can.

"Tsunade-hime, Orochimaru-san, where is our sensei?"

Tsunade-hime blows out a heavy breath, flipping up a few stray hairs. Orochimaru-san stands rigid and straight, staring at him without blinking.

"Jiraiya didn't come back with us," he tells them.

There's a gasp behind them. Minato takes a full step back. Kinoko clenches his fist, bottling up all the air in his lungs. If he can't breathe, then he won't sob. If he passes out, then he can't cry.

"... Please say what you really mean, Orochimaru-san."

Kinoko watches through the filter of his tears as Zenitsu squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. Both eyes are wide open, looking directly at Orochimaru-san. He is trembling all over, carrying strain and certainty in two, clenched fists. His face is tight and grim, with grit teeth partly bared.

"Sage almighty, you're the worst, Orochi." Tsunade-hime heaves a weather-worn sigh. "Jiraiya is fine. He's alive. Our team was the only one to survive. The entire platoon was wiped out."

"And for such a feat, Hanzo saw fit to award us with a title. We are to be known as the Legendary Sannin." Orochimaru spits out the words as if he tasted something foul.

"But he's... He's okay?" Minato asks. "He's just - He's just not here? Why?"

"He may or may not have defected," Tsunade-hime tells them, shrugging. "We'll work it out with sensei."

"Defected..." Kinoko echoes, folding his brow. "He defected?"

"Okay, to be specific, he stayed behind to teach a trio of orphans. Their parents - family - maybe their whole fucking neighborhood got destroyed. We didn't really press for details. But these kids were out there, begging for our scraps. And Jiraiya - well, you know your sensei. It's a whole ass miracle that he hasn't died from his bleeding heart."

"Did... Did he say... When will he come back?" Zenitsu asks.

"That would require forethought and careful planning," Orochimaru-san replies. "Neither are skills your sensei possesses."

Tsunade-hime walks forward, stepping around them. "He won't be gone forever, kiddos. He's not that kinda guy."

"Auntie Tsuna!" Kushina runs up to her. "You're home."

"Welcome back," Mikoto adds, keeping a respectful distance.

That's right. Those two were following them. They must have heard the news about Jiraiya-sensei. Kinoko expects that by mid-afternoon, everyone will learn the news about him. And only a quarter of them will have the correct news because the rest will be blown out of proportion.

"I ain't yer Auntie, brat." Tsunade-hime pets Kushina's head. "Makin' me sound like a middle-aged divorcee, sheesh."

"Well, you drink like one, so..."

"That's enough sass outta you... But is the bar open yet or..."

The girls move away. Their chatter fades into indistinct noise. Orochimaru-san rolls his eyes.

"Of course. She leaves me to handle Sarutobi," he mutters under his breath.

Then without warning, he vanishes in a swirl of leaves. Kinoko is left with his teammates. They exchange heavy, troubled looks. Despair switched to relief far too fast and Kinoko feels a kind of whiplash. He breathes out slow and steady, rubbing a hand down his face, wiping any traces of tears or sweat.

"It's... It's just going to be us then," Minato says, forming each syllable with extra care. "For now, at least."

"Yeah..." Zenitsu attempts a grin but it comes out looking more like a grimace. "But we'll be fine. Jiraiya-sensei will be fine. Everything is going to be fine. Right?"

==>

⚡⚡⚡

An ANBU mask sits on the dining table. It takes the shape of an owl, an animal symbolizing wisdom. And yet, Zenitsu cannot think of anything more foolish than the choice his brother made to accept this mask. It doesn't have the look of a brand new accessory either. The edges are worn from constant and consistent use. The color is an off-white, darkened by stains that never completely washed out. The surface is covered with tiny cracks and faint scratches - marks from battle - maybe multiple battles. Zenitsu is going to wring Minato's throat.

He has no idea when his baby brother joined the ANBU. But it wasn't recently - that much he managed to figure out. So Minato was keeping it a secret, from him, and for damn good reason. His stupid brother knew that Zenitsu would not let him join. He would break all of Minato's limbs before he let this village turn his brother into an assassin. Sure, they've killed already, more than he'd like to count. But war is a force akin to gravity. It pulls people in, compelling everyone to live and die under a special set of rules.

Hired hits, contract kills - those are different. There's usually politics involved, or some other selfish and short-sighted reason. It's nothing more than murder with a paycheck. And yeah, rank and file shinobi do the same thing, pretty much. But ANBU specializes in stuff like that. It's in their Sage damned name.

Minato would thrive in ANBU. That's the worst part. His baby brother is a good kid, and he's very good at killing people. Zenitsu has always known this. It was only a matter of time before everyone knew of Minato's skills. Zenitsu is just an idiot who thought it would take longer for everyone to notice. As if there was any hope in hiding the level of talent Minato possesses.

This was inevitable. But that doesn't mean Zenitsu has to accept it.

Their apartment door opens with a click. Minato wearily announces his arrival home. Zenitsu doesn't reply. Within a few seconds, Minato spots him seated at the dining table, and his eyes dart to the ANBU mask laid on top. An echoing silence rings out from his baby brother.

"How long?"

"I can explain."

"So start."

"You wouldn't understand."

With great care, Zenitsu rises to his feet. "That's not an explanation. That's an excuse."

Minato's breathing speeds up. "I knew that you'd be like this. I knew that you'd overreact."

"You kept this from me - something this important. You told me nothing. I'd say that my reaction is perfectly normal."

"I don't need your permission."

"So why did you keep this secret?"

Minato meets his gaze, an angry flush spreading across his face. "Because you'd hate it! Because we'd argue! And for once, I didn't want to deal with your hysterics!"

"Did you really think that I wouldn't find out? We live in the same apartment!"

"I hid this for over a year, didn't I? It's not that absurd to think I could keep hiding it."

A year. Minato hid this for over a year. He was recruited at the age of thirteen. He was barely a teenager. And Zenitsu didn't even have the slightest suspicion, not even a bad feeling. His ears heard nothing out of the ordinary. Of course. Minato wouldn't find this strange. They live in a village that demanded service from a young age. Joining ANBU would simply be the next logical step. And Minato can be so very logical.

Zenitsu should have paid more attention. He knew that Minato was assigned independent missions. With Jiraiya away from the village, their team was separated. Zenitsu had point blank refused any sort of work that hinted at violence. So they relegated him to ferrying confidential missives from outpost to outpost. This kept him out of the village for long periods of time.

He had mistakenly assumed that Minato would copy him or Kinoko. Their teammate got stationed at the Iwa border. It was standard guard duty and with the war over, there was less fighting to be found. Zenitsu plainly forgot that Minato didn't share his hatred for violence. His idiot brother wouldn't see any reason to turn down a position in ANBU. Minato would have been honored.

"So that's it then. You just got careless. And I find out on accident. You were never going to tell me."

Minato clenches his jaw. "... I would have…"

Zenitsu sneers. "Lie."

Chakra flares up as sound erupts from Minato, heavy and wild like a hurricane reaching the coast. Half a heartbeat finds him planted across from Zenitsu, with only the table between them.

"You wouldn't understand! I'm good at this! You don't even want to be a shinobi! Why don't you just quit?"

Zenitsu flinches, reeling back. Minato stands before him, blond and blue eyed, but in his shadow, Zenitsu could see another boy. In the back of his throat, he tastes the lingering burn of black lightning.

It's happening. Fingers of frost map the hollow of his belly. Zenitsu had expected this. And yet he remains unprepared to hear the stinging resentment from Minato.

Swallowing back a sob, he scrapes together every ounce of resolve within him. This time would be different. He was the big brother now and he has a job to do. Laying a hand over the mask, Zenitsu slides it away from Minato.

"I can't let you stay in ANBU."

Minato scowls harder, slapping his hand over the mask and pulling it his way.

"You can't stop me."

Zenitsu purses his lips, nodding slightly. There's a split second where they stand frozen, both of them holding onto the mask. Then Zenitsu takes a page directly from Tanjiro's manual for conflict resolution. And he headbutts Minato right on the nose.

==>

Chapter Text

The Battle of Kannabi Bridge was both glorious and fearsome. History would speak of the trenches dug on either side, the prolonged stalemate, and the Twin Thunder Gods that ended it all in a single, blinding flash. When Konoha nin saw Namikaze Minato and Namikaze Zenitsu step onto the field, they told each other not to blink, not even once if they wanted to witness the twins in action.

By the end of it all, a thousand Iwa nin had perished, and two legends were born. This would be the turning point, when the Tsuchikage yielded and one war ended. Shinobi left standing could finally return home and there would be great rejoicing, festivities and feasting. But that was all in the future.

For now, it was all silence.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

When did his brother get so far away?

Zen-nii was right beside Minato just a second ago. When he stuck his landing after a particularly ambitious, mid-air kunai technique, Zen-nii tackled him. They nearly fell to the ground as his brother hugged him tightly, squeezing the air out of him. Somehow, Minato managed to stay standing, allowing his brother to screech in his ear.

Then their classmates came over.

"That was so cool!" They said, clapping his shoulders.

"You gotta teach me that move!" They told him, tugging at his arm.

"Showoff!" Kushina yelled, sticking her tongue out.

He really should remember their names beyond "that blond girl" or "this tall guy". He only remembers Kushina's name because she keeps picking fights with him. That's really the only reason.

Now, he finds himself surrounded by his noisy classmates. His brother stands behind them, waiting under a tree off to the side. Minato has no idea how Zen-nii got there.

Across a sea of strangers, their eyes meet. Zen-nii offers a smile, small and see-through. Minato attempts to excuse himself and push past everyone. But they follow him, hanging at his heels, tossing their many questions. He's about to firmly say good bye when he notices that Zen-nii disappeared. There's no one under the tree. There's no one waiting for Minato.

"So it's like a hip twist, right?" Someone asks - a girl, brunette with red marks under her eyes.

Minato faces her properly and pushes up the corners of his mouth, mimicking the way people grin. "Yes, that's right. If you want, I can show you again."

A chorus of "yeah" answers him.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Zenitsu stands on the far side of the field. His brother stands on the other end. Between them lies one thousand bodies. Zenitsu knows who he killed because he always aimed for the head.

The silence was loud.

Zenitsu wonders for a moment if he had finally gone deaf. Perhaps it was the price to pay for all the blood that now dripped from his hands. He has killed so many people. He could still hear their deaths - the schlick sound of metal piercing through flesh and arteries, the gushing noise of blood drenching his blade, then the silence - the loudest of all - as life abandoned those he had slain.

When Zenitsu ended his Flaming Thunder God technique, he had a moment of cowardice. He didn't need to remove his hitai-ite. He could keep his eyes closed, refusing to see what he had just done. But Grandpa taught him to never run away. So with trembling hands, Zenitsu pulled down his blindfold and he looked.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

There's bruises on his knuckles. There's blood under his nails. He never gave himself time to think it over. He just went for it. Then he kept on going. It's no wonder that Zen-nii looked horrified.

Minato must have looked like a demon.

Fat Ken is the biggest bully in the orphanage. All the kids know this. They try to tell the matrons but no punishment works on him. And every time he gets in trouble, he hurts whoever told on him. So everyone does their best to avoid him.

But he's hard to get away from, especially when he wants to beat someone up. He doesn't even need a reason. He's the biggest guy around and he can throw a mean punch. No one can stop him, and some have tried, including his brother.

Fat Ken likes to steal food from the younger kids. Everyone's hungry, of course. Their village is still recovering from the war and there's been a drought recently. Food is rationed everywhere. They should be sharing what they have but Fat Ken had other ideas.

The new girl was minding her business. She's four, the same age as Minato. It was lunch time, and the matrons handed everyone a single onigiri before letting them run out to play. Fat Ken cornered the new girl by the shed, ordering the girl to hand over her onigiri.

A slayer wouldn't stand idle when someone is in trouble. A shinobi would do something to get rid of the threat. Zen-nii would try to stop Fat Ken. Zen-nii wouldn't win that fight.

But Zen-nii hadn't been there. It was his turn to sweep the floors, so he was stuck inside. Minato had been outside. He saw Fat Ken picking on the new girl. He knew exactly what to do.

Unlike his brother, Minato doesn't like to make noise. He speaks softly, he cries quietly, and he attacks without speaking a single word. Fat Ken is bigger - taller, so Minato ran up the shed. Something flared bright and hot from his gut and for a split second, his foot stuck to the shed wall. He was able to take one - two steps before he jumped, twisting his body to take a real big swing at Fat Ken.

Minato hit him straight across the jaw. The bigger boy goes down with a solid thump. But Minato knew that wouldn't be enough to keep him down. So he kept punching, and punching, and punching. His blows cracked and cracked against the boy's skull.

He hadn't been scared. His thoughts were short and clear. If he stopped, if he slowed down, then Fat Ken would win. So Minato didn't stop and he didn't slow down. It made sense to him.

Then he heard a noisy gasp - maybe even the hushed sound of his name. So he looked up, meeting the wide-open eyes of Zen-nii. Minato froze mid-swing and for the first time, he noticed that his fists hurt. The knuckles were torn up and there was blood. There was so much blood. Then he looked down and his stomach did an oopsie, like it was gonna come crawling up his throat.

Fat Ken was a mess. His nose was bent out of shape. Blood was smeared across his face. Some of his teeth were chipped. And he wasn't moving. He was lying on the ground with Minato kneeling over him. And he wasn't moving at all.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

Zenitsu sensed movement behind him - felt not heard for his ears remained broken. His ears might remain broken forever more and now he couldn't tell if this was truly penance or salvation. Would it be so bad to never hear another sound? No longer listening as lives ended?

Zenitsu turns and faces Minato. His baby brother, precious and beloved and unscarred by it all - Minato's mouth moves but he does not know what he's saying. He never learned to read lips. He never had to try before.

Zenitsu pushes past him, uncaring that he's still talking. He strides forward, one step then another. A hand reaches out and claps his shoulder, pulling him to a stop.

"Is it over?" Zenitsu asks, and he hears his words, perhaps because his thoughts echo each syllable.

Minato may have responded but Zenitsu doesn't know. So he whips around, spinning on his heel, as the roar of a thousand silences clog his ears.

"Are we done?"

Minato flinches, eyes wide and hurt. His clumsy attempts at a grin fall away, leaving only nothing. There is nothing. His baby brother is precious and beloved and empty. Minato is empty.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato tastes blood. Zen-nii has effectively broken his nose. In all their spars through the years, they have never drawn blood. This is the first serious injury between them. From the grim look on Zen-nii's face, he is fully aware of the line that was crossed.

His brother has the ANBU mask. He holds it in a white-knuckled grip. Minato can't sweet talk Zen-nii into calming down, not like the last time he got so upset.

When Zen-nii first heard about their team separating, he threw the mother of all tantrums. He screeched and he screamed so hard and so loud that the windows rattled and nearly broke. ANBU popped into the room, armed to the teeth, looking for the source of all the noise. They found a twelve year old chuunin, kicking his feet and pounding his fists on the mission lobby floor. Minato had never been so embarrassed in his whole life.

He quickly reassured his brother that everything will be fine. They can manage taking separate missions. Jiraiya-sensei trained them well and surely, Zen-nii could tell that their skills have expanded.

"But - But - But how am I supposed to protect you if we aren't together?"

At the time, the question didn't immediately click in Minato's head. And he still doesn't understand as he clutches his now broken nose. Zen-nii stands before him, fuming and hurt. Minato expected this reaction but he didn't expect such an extreme response. A kernel of fury lodges between his teeth.

When their team first separated, when Zenitsu had a meltdown, Minato wondered if his brother lacked faith in him. In his opinion, he was pretty good at staying alive and keeping others alive. Plus, he had plenty of skills for defeating an opponent or even multiple opponents at the same time. His brother did not need to protect him. He directly said this to Zenitsu, projecting all his confidence, and burying any inkling of frustration.

Back then, almost two years ago, his words had been enough to soothe his brother. But here and now, Zenitsu is beyond all reason and Minato is done talking. Frustration rears its ugly head once more as he struggles to understand. The extent of his knowledge is as follows:

1. His brother became a shinobi for him.
2. The shinobi life hurts his brother.
3. Minato is a certified genius, more than capable of surviving missions.
4. His brother is more precious to him than anything else in his life.

Minato is at his wit's end. Zen-nii does not need to be a shinobi in the exact same way that Minato does not need protection. Yet his brother stubbornly stays a shinobi and stubbornly keeps trying to protect him.

Clenching his jaw, Minato reaches up to tighten his hitai-ite. Very well. If Zenitsu can't see that Minato is doing just fine without him, then Minato will just have to give him a thorough, hands-on demonstration. He pulls in air through his grit teeth as every muscle in his body tightens. Zenitsu frowns harder and black cracks start to crawl across the other blond's cheeks. Before Zenitsu could fully activate sage mode, Minato launches a kunai with a sealing tag attached.

Zenitsu dodges the weapon and Minato takes a split second to activate his newly mastered jutsu.

Hiraishin.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato lets Zenitsu go this time, lifting his hand as Zenitsu pulls away. The need to go - to leave this wreck - to be anywhere else - builds within Zenitsu. He drags himself forward, fast and faster. Breath starts to fill his lungs, inflating his legs with a familiar coiled power. He doesn't look back.

Thunder Breathing: First Form. Once upon a time, he swore to never use this technique to kill. Once upon a time, an old man told a useless coward to never give up. Once upon a time, Zenitsu was a demon slayer and he saved people.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Am I a bad person?"

Jiraiya-sensei stops scribbling into his notepad.

They're in the hospital room assigned to Minato and Zen-nii. Their argument resulted in five broken ribs, one twisted ankle, one fractured arm, and way too many bruises to count. Minato's nose is bent out of place. Zen-nii's left eye is swollen nearly shut. The fight only ended through a mutual knockout.

They're gonna have to move because they completely demolished their apartment. There goes their security deposit.

"Why do you ask?" Sensei grunts out.

Minato glances over at the ANBU mask, sitting on the side table, cleaved neatly into two pieces. He lifts one shoulder in an absent-minded shrug.

Sensei's eyes travel from Minato to Zen-nii, lying in the next bed and completely unconscious. His brother is actually asleep and he knows this from the state of Zen-nii's chakra. Sensei blows out a long breath, and tucks away the notepad.

"I think that you're doing your best."

Minato thinks back to the fight, remembering Zen-nii's furious and heartbroken expression.

"You can't change the system by obeying it!"

Those words echo in Minato's head.

A long time ago, he made a promise to his brother. Back then, it seemed pretty straightforward. The war made everything simpler that way. They had their missions. They had their enemies. The line was drawn hard and solid across the battlefield.

Zen-nii's wishes were easier to understand. He wanted to keep Minato safe. He fought off anyone attacking Minato. With Kinoko at their side, they made their way back to Konoha. Now...

They have choices. They made choices. Kinoko wanted to get more work in defensive formations. So he got stationed at a border outpost. Zen-nii refused to take on missions with combat involved. But as an active shinobi, he had to be assigned somewhere so he started taking on courier missions. Minato didn't really have a preference and switched teams constantly. When he ended up saving Kushina from those kidnappers, an ANBU operative visited the apartment, using the front door too. Minato didn't have any strong objections to being recruited. ANBU seemed as good as anywhere else.

Zen-nii disagreed. Zen-nii strongly disagreed. Minato didn't understand. He hadn't been reckless. ANBU trained him well. They only sent him out in the field once he felt ready. He had a choice. No one forced him. Sure, the missions were more dangerous. He could never be truly safe, but that could be said for all shinobi. And during their fight, Zen-nii must have seen the level of skill that Minato now possesses. His brother should have stopped freaking out.

But Zenitsu refused to return the ANBU mask.

It's been a week since Minato regained consciousness. Zen-nii woke up shortly after him. They wordlessly agreed to ignore each other, speaking only to their sporadic visitors. The first to come by was his ANBU captain with Uchiha Mikoto in her police uniform.

Of course, when an ANBU operative commits a civil offense, their supervising officer is immediately notified. Uchiha Mikoto must have been their intake officer. Great. Kushina was never going to let him live this down.

And she didn't. Kushina dropped in shortly after her best friend forever. She was slightly more subdued around him since the whole kidnapping incident. But she still tormented him whenever she could. In this case, she cackled over "golden boy Minato" gaining a criminal record. Well, at least someone found something to smile about.

Aburame Shikuro stopped by. Officially, he was a complete stranger to Namikaze Minato. Officially, he worked as a chuunin clerk at the Hokage tower. Officially, he should have no knowledge regarding the circumstances that landed Minato in the hospital, especially no knowledge of Minato's suspension from his ANBU work.

Unofficially, Aburame scrawled a "Get Well Soon!" message on Minato's cast and told him that he was scheduled for a vacation anyways. Why? Because kids need time to rest and grow. Then the guy, who is definitely not his ANBU captain, ruffled his hair and walked out of the room.

After him, a few others visited. Tsume left behind some magazines for Zen-nii, and an abacus for Minato because he "likes nerd shit". Mebuki gave them a fruit basket because she apparently lived next to an orchard. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear whenever she met Zen-nii's gaze. His brother remains absolutely clueless. Kinoko was stuck at the border station but he sent some strongly worded letters and a badly drawn caricature of his "I'm disappointed" face. This was delivered by a bemused Akimichi Choza who was curious to see what the fuss was all about.

The rest of their time was trapped together in stubborn silence. Minato goes over every second of their argument, trying to pick out the real root of Zenitsu's fears. And he comes to the conclusion that he has disappointed his brother.

It's the only thing that makes sense. His brother hates death and Minato joined the Special Assasination and Tactical Squad. Except, he's not torn up about his assignments. He could sleep for hours without any nightmares. In comparison, his brother mourns each death in every battle. Minato must seem cold and heartless to him.

"Your brother is a kind boy," Jiraiya-sensei says, cutting through his thoughts. "Too bad he lives with his head in the sand. I sure would love for the world to be nicer than it is - some place where killing isn't a necessity. Maybe in the future, it will be. But that's just not the world we live in now. To reach the future, we must survive the present."

That's true. And every assignment he took was to eliminate threats against Konoha. Except… Except…

"It's good to have you back, sensei…" Minato offers him a grin. "Sorry we had to meet up like this. I'm sure that Zen-nii would have thrown you a party or something."

Sensei shrugs. "Mah, I wasn't expecting a lot for my homecoming. I wasn't arrested for desertion and I got to see my favorites at the Lonesome Flower. That's good enough for me. You guys should be the one bummed out. We're spending your birthday in a hospital room."

Minato blinks. "Eh?"

Sensei barks out a laugh. "Yeah, kiddo. The terror twins are officially fifteen as of today. Sorry I ain't got presents for you. Three years without taking missions got me flat broke."

Minato looks at the ANBU mask. After this stunt, he expects to forfeit any available assignment through the foreseeable future. Zen-nii would like that but he knows something his brother would like even more.

He's still not going to apologize. Maybe Zen-nii is right. Maybe there's something else he should be doing. That doesn't mean he was wrong about ANBU. His captain and teammates treated him fairly. He wasn't patronized for his age and his captain expected no less from him than anyone else on the team. They all believed that they were doing the things necessary to protect their families. Minato couldn't condemn that even if there is a better way.

No one can know everything. People do the best they can with the power they have.

He glances at the message scrawled on his cast, then at his sleeping brother. It's not too late to make another choice.

"Jiraiya-sensei, there is something I'd like from you," Minato says, fidgeting with his bed sheets.

Sensei tilts his head. "Kiddo, you know if I can get it for ya, I will. Lay it on me."

"Could I sign the Toad Summoning Contract? Could you teach me how to summon?"

"Tell ya what, I can do you one better." Sensei grins and winks at him. "Let's get you to Mount Myoboku. How do you feel about learning sage mode?"

Minato answers with a sincere smile.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Zenitsu crashes into a clearing. Lightning arcs down his thighs as he comes to a quick and brutal stop. He ran out of breath. Him. Of course, he would. He's a no good loser like Kaigaku said he was. Luck and pity carry him through his fights. He never really saved anyone - not even once. How dare he -

A pair of hands grab his shoulders, shaking him roughly. Zenitsu lifts his head to find Rin peering at him worriedly. Behind her, Kakashi and Obito watch them as they rest crumpled around their makeshift camp. Oh.

He had arrived at their meeting place, where Minato promised to reunite with his team. They made it. They look - Well, Kakashi has an eye injury. Obito looks roughed up. But they look alive. They are alive. They made it.

Distantly, Zenitsu is aware of Rin pulling him up to his feet. Obito is helping her. They share worried glances. Kakashi is left behind and the expression on his face - as if he had seen a ghost. Zenitsu doesn't have the energy to spare a thought. So he simply allows Rin and Obito to manhandle him like a particularly heavy doll.

The kids watch him warily. Kakashi and Obito may be arguing but he still can't hear anything. So he stays put, stays quiet, and stares into space.

An hour passes and Obito seems to have won something. Kakashi appears sick, his chest fluttering, his one eye wide open. Then with a signature flash, Minato arrives. His obnoxious little brother scares the shit out of the kids as he perches himself on the rock with his Hiraishin marker. There's a beat of shock and panic as the kids scramble to react. Then recognition sets in and they all tackle him to the ground.

Minato lets them. He seems to have braced himself for such a reaction because none of their throats are cut. His little brother is so incredibly stupid like that.

They weep, all of them, even Kakashi. Zenitsu witnesses their reunion as if he was an audience admiring a play - someone sitting in the cheap seats way out back.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Gentlemen, it seems that Kakashi's training is going well," Sakumo-san nods at them. "He hasn't complained much."

Minato shares a look with Zen-nii. Together, they turn to Sakumo-san, wearing twin expressions of disbelief.

Sakumo-san laughs, airless and rough. "Alright. He's been complaining plenty. But none of it rings true. Pups are like that, more bark than bite."

Grief and horror crosses Zen-nii's face, because his brother is a terrible shinobi for all the reasons that make Minato a good one. He doesn't have Zen-nii's ears so he doesn't know whatever prompted such a reaction. But he can sense Sakumo-san's chakra, and there is something off about it.

Minato thinks back to Kakashi and the way his chakra constantly rumbles and growls, bearing a wolf-like wildness. As for Sakumo-san, his chakra sits limp and muffled but not at rest or asleep. It feels heavier somehow, and thicker - flowing through him like sludge, like sewage.

That's bad. That's very not good.

"We're happy to help, Sakumo-san," Zen-nii tells him. "So if you need anything, just let us know, okay? It's really not a big deal. We don't care what the villagers think. They're huge assholes so just, I mean - well, you know what I mean. Right? Because they're wrong and you shouldn't -"

"I must look real pathetic if you think that I need a newbie jounin to preach at me."

Zen-nii flinches. If Sakumo-san took a forge-hot brand and burned him, Zen-nii would actually look less hurt.

Minato frowns. "My brother means well. He isn't insulting you."

"No, he's sticking his nose where it don't belong. Now run on home."

Zen-nii's hands curl into fists. "But you don't - your sound is -"

"My sound, eh? Then you listen to me real close, boy. I asked for you to tutor my son. None of that involves me or any of your fancy ideas for helping me. Do I make myself clear?"

His brother opens his mouth, ready to press on. But Minato holds out a hand between him and Sakumo-san.

"We understand you perfectly. We shall be on our way."

Without letting Zen-nii say another word, Minato claps a hand on his brother's shoulder and activates Hiraishin. They land in their apartment, right in the middle of their living room.

"What was that?!" Zen-nii cries out, pulling away and turning to look him in the eyes. "We just left?!"

Minato meets his brother's gaze, steady and unyielding. "Yes. He asked us to."

Zen-nii grinds his teeth. He whips around and begins to pace. Hands rub at his eyes as an incoherent jumble of words pour out of his mouth. Minato settles himself against the wall, crossing his arms.

Several minutes pass before Zen-nii settles down. Dropping onto his couch, he sits hunched over, with elbows resting on his thighs and his head bowed low.

"I don't get it..." He murmurs. "He needs help. He knows that he needs help. His sound was so awful, Minato. It was just so broken and hollow. Why didn't he let us help him?"

Minato walks over and takes the seat next to his brother. "Not everyone is like you, Zen-nii. Not everyone can ask for help."

Zen-nii chuckles, dry and harsh. "Yeah, not everyone can be a useless coward."

Minato scowls, curling his hands into fists. "Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. Rejecting help is not a sign of strength."

In a way, Minato must understand better than Zen-nii. Unlike his brother, Minato has never been brave, not really. He's faced danger several times and he's walked into plenty of situations where the odds were not in his favor. But most of the time, Minato never felt like he had much to lose. He could die, sure. That would suck. That would make Zen-nii sad.

But Zen-nii is strong. He could survive Minato's death. Minato isn't sure that he would survive Zen-nii's death. Thankfully for him, his brother hates danger and hardly takes any risk. But the few and terrible times when his brother could have died, Minato remembers each one with searing clarity.

He never understood how his brother could grieve so easily. At the barest hint of sorrow, Minato falls apart. He would drop to his knees and never rise again. Yet every day, his brother grieves and aches and carries the whole weight of it without missing a step. Somehow, he keeps his hands open, reaching out for anyone to grab onto.

That's the tricky business about asking for help - real help. People have to pull apart their rib cage and let someone look at the worst inside. Zen-nii does this on a daily basis, sincerely every single time. His brother has always been the stronger than him.

"Easy for you to say," Zen-nii snorts. "You never need help, Mr. Rookie of the Year."

"I asked you to open the peanut butter jar yesterday," Minato replies.

Zen-nii playfully punches his arm. "Smartass," he says with an honest smile.

Minato offers an equally real grin. "Guilty as charged."

They ease into a comfortable silence. A tepid breeze slips in, carrying the scent of drying clothes and falling leaves. He counts the seconds, waiting for his brother to sag against the couch. Then he clears his throat.

"I'm sure that Sakumo-san will come around. We just did too much too fast. We have to be more tactical about this."

"You really think that we can help him?" Zen-nii mutters sleepily.

"I think that we're going to try no matter what," Minato answers.

Sakumo-san may have troubles beyond their ability to assist with. But they can at least convince him to get help, real help. They just need to avoid coming across as condescending. That's doable.

The very next day, Kakashi shows up at their apartment and tells them that his father wants the training sessions to start and end outside of the Hatake home.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato and his team must have felt his stare because they all look over at him. The kids turn to their sensei and Minato gathers his team close. They must be talking to each other. Zenitsu still can't tell.

If his brother is here, then their job at the front lines is well and truly over. He must be explaining that to the kids. The other Konoha nin must be packing up, securing the field, and other things to do once a battle is won. Zenitsu doesn't know and he never wants to.

But he should have known. He should have stayed. He should have helped bury the bodies. They killed a thousand people. Zenitsu knows because Zenitsu heard them die and he counted. He counted. One. Two. Three. Five hundred. Seven hundred and eighty nine. One thousand.

A warm body presses against his side as a hand gently rubs his back. Oh. He feels an ache in his chest. He had been - he had let his breath control fall apart. There's a word for it. He knows there's a word for it. Someone taught him the word. But who? Why can't he remember?

His thoughts spin and spin and spin, competing with memories of the battle flashing behind his eyes. He doesn't know when he closed his eyes. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. That's how he is, sometimes. He never had a proper boundary between asleep and awake, not like other people.

Time must be passing. He's vaguely aware of the people shifting around him. A shadow falls over him and he looks up to find Minato offering a hand up. He turns away and gets to his feet all by himself. When someone has done all that he's done, there's really no excuse for further incompetence. Zenitsu walks past his brother, taking care to step around him and avoid all contact. He follows the kids as they head out the clearing. They are chatting about something or another. He still can't hear a single sound.

Zenitsu follows the kids all the way to Konoha. He's vaguely aware that his brother is behind him somewhere. He may have left a few times to check in with the front line shinobi. But that's purely a guess on Zenitsu's part because he never once looked back. All he can say for sure is that when the village gates came into view, and the waiting crowd started cheering at the sight of them, his brother was at his side.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Hatake Sakumo committed seppuku. They learn this the hard way. When Kakashi failed to meet them for his usual training session, they decided to visit the Hatake home and deal with Sakumo-san ire. But Sakumo-san didn't get angry at them. He's never going to be angry again.

Minato found Kakashi in his room, wrapping a whole futon around his head. Later, the kid will tell him that the futon kept the smell away - the smell of his decaying dad. But when Minato first saw Kakashi, he spared a second to say hi then picked him up and teleported him to the apartment. He left Zen-nii to handle Sakumo-san.

This was a mistake. Obviously, at the time, Kakashi was Minato's top priority. He got the kid into the bath but the kid wouldn't climb out. Kakashi kept saying that he smelled awful and he wouldn't stop scrubbing himself. When his skin started to look a raw pink, Minato hauled him back to bed. Kakashi kicked and screamed and cried the whole way to the guest room. Minato could have used the Hiraishin but this way tired the poor kid out so he dropped onto the bed without much more trouble.

Minato dearly hopes that Kakashi didn't see his father's corpse. But he knows that's unlikely.

By the time that Minato returned to the Hatake home, Zen-nii already took care of the body. A far too innocent body scroll was held in his hands. The look on his brother's face was so hollow and burned out, like the corpse of a tree struck by lightning. Seeing such a foreign expression, Minato almost thought that he came back to find a stranger in Zen-nii's place. More than alarmed, he didn't know the right thing to do, so he simply stood there and he did nothing.

When his brother returned to his senses, when they returned to their apartment, the shattered look never left Zen-nii's eyes. It only grew worse after Minato reported the news to the Hokage. Then Sakumo-san's death became public knowledge. Some mourned him. Lord Third offered a solemn, resigned expression before dismissing him. Jiraiya-sensei drank himself stupid before disappearing into a whorehouse.

Others considered this justice served. Satiated and satisfied, they moved on to whatever troubled them next. They were content to ignore their part in driving a man to death. They were the worst and Minato hated them the most.

Compared to them, he actually preferred those who continued to hate Sakumo-san. They didn't forget. They viciously claimed that his death was a consequence of their actions. But their anger kept them from satisfaction and in this way, they got little joy from his death. Sure, they remained cruel and revolting yet it was honest and straightforward. Minato could look them in the eyes without wanting to throw up on their faces.

He was glad that Zen-nii chose to stay in the apartment with Kakashi. It kept his brother from knocking out every villager he met. This was the only saving grace to the self-imposed house arrest. With such sensitive ears, Zen-nii could clearly hear first-hand how the villagers reacted to the news. Minato begged his brother to use his sensory seals but for reasons that he couldn't understand, his brother was intent on torturing himself.

Of course, Zen-nii and Kakashi couldn't stay in the apartment forever. They made horrible company for each other. Kakashi kept picking fights with them, and Zen-nii would go into near catatonia at the slightest provocation, which only made Kakashi angrier. So Minato arranged for Kushina to take in Kakashi for a little while. She complied without comment.

With the kid taken care of, Minato only had his brother to handle. He still had no idea what to do. He continued to do nothing.

Now, it's been nearly three weeks since Sakumo-san died. The unofficial war is in full swing and all hands need to be on deck. Minato could no longer excuse his brother from missions. So against his better judgement, he drags Zen-nii out of the apartment. This goes about as well as can be expected, which means everything went horribly - absolutely awful.

"Fucking Iwa, those brick-head bastards. I hope that Hatake dog bur -"

Minato has the man by his throat.

They're outside the Hokage tower, about to grab their latest mission. The streets are emptier now as more shinobi are deployed and front lines are drawn on the map. Of course, Minato has Hiraishin markers inside the tower but he would prefer not to spook security today, not with his hair-trigger brother at his side. So he got them as close to the entrance as possible.

They arrive just in time for this asshole to come swanning out. Minato doesn't know him. The guy is wearing a vest so he must be a chuunin. If he was jounin, then Minato would have already met him or at least heard of him. But really, there's nothing familiar about the guy, no defining feature.

Within the first few words that come from the chuunin's mouth, Minato's legs bend like a runner at the starting line. His finely honed instinct was screaming in his head. So by the time this guy spoke the Hatake name, Minato was on him.

His fingernails bite into the soft skin of the guy's neck. His palm presses hard against the cartilage, with knuckles right under the chin. The guy splutters and chokes, clawing at his wrist. Minato pays him no mind and looks over his shoulder, locking eyes with Zen-nii.

For a split second, Minato could make believe that they were playing the cup game. This was nothing more than a test of their reflexes. Whoever moves first wins. Well this time, Minato was faster than his brother. The score is now tied.

Zenitsu has both hands clenched at his side. He appears to be a second away from shifting his stance and lunging forward. At least, he hadn't reached for his sword.

"I could make him hurt," Minato tells his brother, keeping his voice even. "He will spend the next month hospitalized. It would be easy for me."

It's always been easy for him. There's a formula to fighting and Minato has always been good at formulas. He doesn't enjoy it. There's no bloodlust in him. There's no heart either.

Zen-nii is all heart, and it breaks every time he goes into battle. Anyone could plainly see his hatred for fighting. Minato looks into his brother's eyes and searches for that hatred - that abhorrence for violence.

There's a second - stretched out infinitely - when Zenitsu considers Minato's offer. His internal debate can be seen in the hard line of his shoulders and the severe fold in his brow. But the second passes, and Zenitsu hisses out a breath. His whole body seems to deflate as he turns away from Minato.

"Dickhead," Zen-nii murmurs without any heat.

Minato returns his attention to the guy. He kept his grip loose enough to allow him some air. So the guy stays conscious and kicking. Minato shoves him against the Hokage tower, knocking any leftover breath out of him.

"The man gutted himself in his home, and you still hate him," he spits out and tightens his hold ever so slightly.

The guy gasps and wheezes, taking a clumsy swing at Minato. He catches the fist easily then tugs until he hears the shoulder pop. The guy screams through his teeth and rolls his whole body in an attempt to break free.

"Fu- Fuck you, man!"

To his credit, he fights on despite being overpowered and pinned. His eyes carry a bright, true fury and he meets Minato's gaze without flinching. There's conviction in him - this random, shit-talking guy.

"Answer me and I won't break the rest of you," Minato tells him. "Why?"

"Wha - Why?" The guy coughs out. "Why what? Huh? You ain't - fuck, let me talk damn it!"

Minato marginally slackens his fingers. The guy drags in a deep breath.

"Why am I angry? Is that it?" The guy pants out a laugh. "You fucking pyscho, going around attacking people!"

Minato doesn't respect his taunts with a reply.

The guy clenches his jaw. "You wanna know why… Why did I hate Hatake? Well, an answer for an answer, fucker! Why did my brother get sent to the frontline? They have him running messages between posts like those Dirt-Eaters ain't waiting around every corner! He's thirteen!"

Minato hears Zen-nii shift behind him. He kisses his teeth and throws the guy onto the ground.

"You condemned a man with a young son. Why should we care that you are a man with a brother?" He asks, looming over him.

The guy grunts in pain as he sits up, glaring defiantly. "Because I ain't done nothing wrong!"

"Disregarding that bold claim for now, isn't it the height of arrogance to believe that a single soldier could chart the course of an entire nation? Do you believe a soldier has that much power?"

The guy squares his shoulders. "Not just any soldier. Hatake Sakumo. He was special."

From the corner of his eyes, Minato watches Zen-nii snort, turning away from both of them.

"No. He wasn't," his brother murmurs, exhaustion lacing his voice.

Frowning, Minato squats down until he's at eye level with the guy. Keeping their sight locked on each other, he snatches the guy's wrist and using his other hand, he begins to trace the Hiraishin marker on the guy's palm. The jutsu-shiki blooms black and slow across the weapon-worn skin. The guy tries to pull away but he hadn't been strong enough before and he isn't strong enough now.

Minato does not know what his expression must look like. But his comrades in ANBU once called him Heaven Sent Death. Heaven, they called him, for the blue of his eyes, and Death for the promise he holds in his stare. It's all very poetic and Minato thought they were taking the piss. But the look on this guy's face, half in rapture and half in terror, he wonders if they weren't too off the mark.

"Your fear has made you cruel, my friend. I have stayed my hand today and offer you a kindness since you have none left in you. But if you speak another ill-word of Sakumo, we will pay forward the cruelty you have shown us." Minato squeezes chakra into the Hiraishin marker, and it briefly burns red. "Do I make myself clear?"

The guy gibbers out a wordless assent.

Minato lets go of him and the guy scrambles up to his feet, jogging backwards to keep Minato in his sight for as long as possible. When he trips on a rock, then he turns around and dashes away.

Blowing out a breath, Minato dusts off his pants and straightens his legs. He catches up with Zen-nii already inside the Hokage tower, power-walking to the mission office.

"You're too kind, Minato." Zen-nii tells him.

He shakes his head. "I'm really not."

"You're kinder than most. That's good. The world is cruel enough."

Minato grabs hold of Zen-nii's shoulder. They both stop where they stand. Minato keeps his gaze on the brother before him. Zen-nii stares ever forward, never looking back.

"I would have hurt him, if you told me to."

"I know. That's why I'll never tell you."

"And that's why I'll always ask."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

The apartment is empty. Zenitsu does not remember coming back. He does not remember unpacking his gear, taking a bath, eating a meal, or anything that got him into his bed in sleepwear. He may have not eaten anything, actually. His stomach doesn't feel full.

But everything feels distant. His body almost feels like a separate entity - something that belongs to somebody else. Zenitsu can only understand himself as a vague concept - free floating in a void. He's not a person. He's not anything really.

Days pass in a sort of haze. Zenitsu stays in bed. Somehow he must have done the stuff necessary for continued existence. He doesn't starve or die from dehydration. Logically, this means that he empties his bladder and bowels regularly or else he'd be in a sorry state. But he's relatively clean (if a bit sweaty), and there's empty dishware nearby. But he can't quite remember doing much apart from lying on his side or his back if he felt like changing stuff up.

Ha. And he thought that he could stop being incompetent. Well, he's always been an idiot. Of course, he'd be wrong about that.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Once upon a time, in a land far way..."

Zen-nii always starts his best stories like this. Tonight, the orphanage forgot their dinners again and sent them to bed early. Despite trying so hard to stay awake, Zen-nii goes to sleep first. Minato doesn't mind because his brother only tells him stories when asleep.

Zen-nii talks about mysterious places in a far away country known as Japan. It was somewhere like the Elemental Nations with the same food and the same language, a few similar customs and clothes. But beyond that, Japan and its cities were worlds apart from their home. The shinobi there died out long ago and they didn't have any chakra at all.

They did have demons. Not the big beastly things from legend no, Japan's demons were human-born creatures - victims of a single monster's cruelty. Zen-nii talked endlessly of the brave slayers that put these demons to rest, and the night-long battle where they finally defeated the sire of all demons - Kibutsuji Muzan.

Minato loves these stories. He wants to become a slayer like the brave Hashira.

"How can you become a demon slayer if there aren't any demons to slay?" Zen-nii asks, smiling in his sleep.

"No demons here?" Minato echoes, frowning and folding his brow.

He tries to remember everything that he's learned in all four years of his life. And hmmm… The grown ups never talk about demons the way his brother describes them. But that's good. That's better. There's one less thing to worry about.

For everything else, a shinobi takes care of the problem. Oh! Well, that's it!

"Then I can become a shinobi like the guards at the gate or the Uchiha patrolling the streets. They protect people like demon slayers do."

"But if there's no demons, then who are they fighting? There's only other people like us."

"Bad guys," Minato says with confidence. "Not everyone is very nice like you, nii-chan. Some can be really mean and I'll keep them away from you. I'll kick the most butt - like the Hokage. They say that he's the strongest and protects everyone, kinda like the Hashira! I wanna grow up to be just like him!"

Zen-nii says nothing in reply. A few seconds later, soft snores wheeze out of him. Minato smiles and presses closer to his brother, pulling their shared blanket tighter around them. The orphanage never had enough to go around because there's always way too many kids. But Minato has Zen-nii and that's all he ever needs.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Someone comes close, taking a seat next to Zenitsu's bed.

"- is so dumb. But Sensei says that you can hear us even if you're asleep."

Ah. Someone is talking to him. He can hear them talking to him. It's the first sound that he's heard since… He hasn't heard a thing for the longest time. He can't be sure of how much time has passed. But it's more time than he deserved to stay so… uninvolved. He should be out there, helping Minato with closing out the war front against Iwa.

"So, I thought - well, I just wanted to say..."

Is that Kakashi? The voice sounds like Kakashi. He should know. He can't have forgotten what Kakashi sounds like. But he still can't be sure.

"... thank you..."

No. It can't be Kakashi. This grateful sounding kid can't be that arrogant brat.

"I thought your technique was worthless, especially because you wouldn't let me use it offensively. But... Thunderclap and Flash saved me and my teammates. If you hadn't... If I hadn't..."

Oh. Wow. It is Kakashi.

"... So yeah... I just wanted to say thanks."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato hacks and coughs. He needs to breathe but his lungs have exploded. And his legs are on fire, leaving him belly flat on the ground. His brother kneels over him, gently running a hand over his back.

"Easy does it, ssshhhh..."

Black spots start to dance in his eyes. Zen-nii rolls him onto his back and he forces himself to seize a mouthful of air. His chest burns as if splashed by scalding hot water. He snags the front of Zen-nii's jacket, holding on with a white-knuckled grip as he pushes through the pain. When his ribs are stretched to full capacity, he focuses on pulling in his diaphragm. He breathes out nice and slow.

Zen-nii breathes out alongside him. Then his brother inhales and Minato copies him as best he can. They continue like this for some time. He loses track of the seconds, which eventually turn into minutes. When his breathing is less forced, Zen-nii offers him a sad smile.

"Your legs broke. Thunder Breathing puts too much strain on your body."

Minato figured as much. The ache below his knees was confirmation enough. At least the bones weren't shattered. But there's no way that Minato will recover completely before the Academy Graduation Exams.

He's gonna have to pass in a cast. That's not ideal, sure. But he's got something worse to deal with.

"My techniques do not suit you. I'm sorry. But you can't learn any of it."

Minato squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back tears.

When it comes to skill-based challenges, either mental or physical, Minato rarely suffers failure. If he didn't hold back, he could speed through the Academy curriculum. And yet, the Thunder Breathing technique - his brother's technique - is beyond his abilities.

Zen-nii started teaching him Total Concentration Breathing during their first year as Academy students. Minato mastered the basics with ease, but his brother faced more difficulty with the shinobi arts. So Minato devoted his time on keeping Zen-nii from flunking out. Now that they're all set to graduate, he could finally continue learning the Thunder Breathing techniques. Except...

He sprained an ankle. Then his knee popped out. After that, he pulled a muscle in his thigh. Constant cramps seized his calves, despite thorough stretching. Zen-nii suggested that he improve his Total Concentration Breathing. Somehow, this made things worse. Walking became a challenge as his legs trembled beneath his weight.

Clearly, something was wrong. An ugly suspicion haunted Minato after each attempt at pulling off the first Thunder Breathing form. And now, he can no longer ignore the truth.

Zen-nii carefully slides one arm under his back and the other arm under his legs. Pain slices up his spine as his brother lifts and cradles him close. Minato would feel more embarassed if he didn't already feel like smelly dog poop.

He's so close to becoming a shinobi. But maybe he got too greedy by trying to become something like a slayer too. Maybe being a shinobi is the only thing he's good for. That makes sense.

Demon slayers didn't kill people. But Minato already knows that if Zen-nii wasn't looking over his shoulder, he could kill with ease. Everyone always sneers at Zen-nii for crying whenever they have to hurt someone. But Minato doesn't cry at all. He doesn't want to hurt people but surely he should feel bad when he does. Except, he doesn't feel anything. Sometimes, if not for his heart beating, he could almost believe that there's nothing in his chest.

Riding in Zen-nii's arms, Minato watches the village wake up around them. By this time, the shops are about to open, if not already. Morning keeps coming and coming, so another day begins. He buries his face in the hollow of Zen-nii's throat, listening to Zen-nii's pulse, and he bites back a sob.

"Oh, Mimi-chan! It's going to be okay! We're almost to the hospital. The doctors will make you feel all better."

There's a crack of thunder and the scenery turns into a blur. His brother could never use this speed during taijutsu class. But the moment he gets hurt, his brother speeds up without care or thought.

Minato shouldn't have tried Thunder Breathing. He was never going to be good enough for it.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Zenitsu hears the rustle of cloth as Kakashi shifts to stand up. But he reaches over, gently laying a pinkie next to whatever part of Kakashi was closest. The rough cotton of a glove meets the pad of his finger. Kakashi freezes. The kid's pulse picks up even with such a slight touch.

Zenitsu keeps his eyes shut tight, and he says not a word. He listens to Kakashi breathe in and out, then breathes in again. There's more shuffling before Zenitsu hears Kakashi settle back down. He slides his hand over and Kakashi lets him twine their fingers together.

Slowly, sounds begin to trickle in. A warm breeze whispers through his curtains. Nearby, water boils as the scent of chamomile fills the air. Beyond the apartment door, people's voices filter in - laughing and talking but Zenitsu can't distinguish the words, only the cadence of their speech. They sound happy, free of any and all worries.

The Third Shinobi War must be coming to an end.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

This was inevitable.

Minato stares at the message in his hand. During their last meeting, Lord Third showered him with praises and Minato could read between the lines. He's always been vocal about his desire to become the next Hokage. Lord Third mentioned off-hand an upcoming conference between himself, the Konoha Council, and the Daimyo. Now, days later, he receives a message requesting his presence at the Hokage tower.

Many squad captains have named confidence as one of Minato's strengths. But he doesn't see it as confidence. When adding one plus one, people don't doubt the answer is two. In the same way, Minato could piece together people's actions and motives to predict their next move. It's all elementary - no confidence involved.

Of course, people are not as absolute as numbers on a page. Variables exist, and the meeting might be for a new mission. Then there's Orochimaru-san to consider. He's the primary candidate to succeed his sensei. Except, he has remained only a candidate for a near decade now. There must be a reason for that. So given the facts and accounting for possible deviations, Minato can be fairly certain that Lord Third has named him as the next Hokage.

Rolling up the message scroll, Minato tucks it into his jounin vest. He makes his way out of the little house he shares with Kushina. That's another thing to take care of. Well, becoming Hokage should offer a decent pay raise. He should throw a small party to go with the ceremony. People need a little celebration every once in a while.

He passes by a mirror in the hallway. He stops to check his reflection, adjusting his hitai-ite and jounin vest. Everything is perfectly straight already but well… It's a meeting with Lord Third, to be named his successor.

Three plus One equals Four. He worked hard for this. He revived an old jutsu and he invented a new one. He led teams and he won battles and he killed a lot of people. That makes him a good soldier - an exceptional shinobi. That makes him nothing like the slayers in those bedtime stories.

His brother never explained where he heard these stories or if he made up any of it. In the same way, he was never taught Thunder Breathing and he didn't invent it either. He just knew stuff that he shouldn't. As a child, Minato understood instinctively. Back then, reality was so brand new that everything was possible and nothing was impossible. If his brother had a grandfather that Minato never met despite being twins and always being together, then that's just how it was.

Thoughts and theories of reincarnation and alternate dimensions never entered Minato's head. As he grew older, Zen-nii and all his knowledge merely became a fact of life that he never bothered to examine closely.

But in the back of Minato's so-called genius brain, he always knew. Zen-nii used to be someone else. And once, when he couldn't be older than four, Minato asked if Zen-nii knew the reason for him being born here.

"If I had to guess," Zen-nii replied, sleep talking as usual. "It's because I had to meet you and to be your big brother."

Little Minato accepted that explanation easily. Big Minato has many questions. Maybe one day, Zen-nii will trust him enough to tell him everything. But more and more, Minato thinks that it's best for him not to know. Of all the things he planned to become, he never lived up to how Zen-nii saw him. There's really no reason to torture himself with the finer details.

Minato pushes up the corners of his mouth and his reflection offers him a sad grin. Despite being twins, the older they got, the more different they looked. Minato's hair is short and spiky with a solid jawline and sharp cheekbones. Zen-nii's hair is long and flat with a round chin and peach-chub cheeks.

They really are nothing alike.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

This was inevitable.

The doctor gives Zenitsu a weary grin. The guy's trying to comfort him, but for once in his life, he's actually not upset. It's not so much a sense of inner peace more than it's resignation. But the end result feels the same.

Zenitsu never expected to live past the ripe old age of 20. Shinobi lives are tragically short, especially for the less fortunate. And he could never claim to be lucky. But somehow, he survived.

Whole and healthy, the nurse tells him. His vitals appear normal. His sugar levels are a little low. His blood pressure is on the higher end. Nothing some good food and a good night's rest can't fix. By all accounts, he is a physically fit, twenty-two year old jounin.

Except...

The doctor calls it "combat fatigue". Zenitsu knew of something similar in his past life. They called it "shellshock". His old country didn't have any proper treatment for it. At most, the Butterfly Mansion offered soothing teas or sleeping pills or a steady shoulder to cry on. Here and now, the doctor adds a note to his file - a professional recommendation for the pysche ward.

Perfect. He's officially crazy.

He's not even shocked. To survive this long, doing what he does, something was going to break. It ended up being his brain. He could have it worse.

The recommendation is marked non-urgent since he has no desire to harm himself or others. The doctor sends him on his way and Kakashi meets him in the hospital lobby. The kid looked bored but the ringing sound of worry came from him loud and clear. Zenitsu's little breakdown must've caused a lot of painful memories to resurface. They barely managed to exchange nods when the hospital doors slammed open.

Two things happen immediately. First, every muscle in Zenitsu's body locks up, hard and tight. Breathing becomes very difficult when your diaphragm refuses to move. Second, Zenitsu hears voices - no screams - the guttural cries of dying shinobi. Squelching sounds fill his ears as his blade separates heads from the bodies. The noises distort from human to demonic as they curse him out in the last seconds of their life.

"...hospital. It's 5:37 p.m on a Thursday. You are in Konoha."

Zenitsu doesn't remember closing his eyes, and somehow, he ended up sitting on the ground. It almost feels like the old days, when he'd fall asleep or faint and when he woke up, there'd be a dead demon at his feet. Except now, no one is dead and Kakashi kneels before him, reciting the date and time in a perfect, perfunctory tone. Zenitsu spares a thought for how hard the tiled floors must be on the kid's knees. Then his eyes catch a flash of yellow. Sage help his brother. With looks like that, Minato is a walking, talking target. Tengen would have adored such an eye-catching appearance. They would have liked each other.

"Hey..." Zenitsu waves at his brother.

Minato frowns and offers his hand. "What did the doctor say? Is it serious?"

Zenitsu shakes his head and stands up on his own. He can do at least that much. "How did you even know I was here?"

Kakashi grimaces. Fucking snitch.

"You collapsed outside of the training grounds. Why shouldn't I know this?" Minato presses his lips together in a hard line. It's his "I'm a serious teacher" face.

Zenitsu refuses to be treated like a misbehaving student. "It's fine! I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

"You wouldn't move," Kakashi speaks up. "We were close to the training grounds when you stopped walking. Then you clapped both hands over your ears and you sank to the ground. I called your name several times. No response. Your breathing and your heart rate sped up rapidly."

Seriously, this kid needs to keep his mouth shut. But noooo! The little teacher's pet would tell Minato everything.

"I..." Kakashi looks away. With his other eye bandaged, there's only a sliver of his face left exposed. It would be hard to read his expression but there's a faint, shivering noise coming from the kid. "I thought that you were gonna have a heart attack. Or something."

Nice. Zenitsu is a jerk.

It must have looked really bad. He barely remembers it. For Kakashi to see that - for any kid to see that, Zenitsu can't blame him for freaking out. Of course, he would blab to Minato. ...Well, at least he asked for help. They've been trying to teach him that for ages. The lessons must have finally stuck. Hooray for small victories.

Zenitsu can't help the shame burning a pit in his stomach. If he can't even manage to enter the training grounds, then he's going to have a hard time in a fight.

"Zen-nii..." Minato sighs. "Maybe you should... You know that they gave us a commendation, right? We're the twins that stopped the war with Iwa. If you need to take an extended break from shinobi work, no one would dare to stop you."

Zenitsu clenches his jaw. "Last time I left you alone, your dumb ass joined ANBU."

Minato flinches and the stinging note of hurt bursts from him. Shit. Fuck. Zenitsu is a huge asshole.

His little brother takes a deep breath and manages a smile. It's somehow not completely fake. There's a hushed sound of amusement. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm getting promoted."

Zenitsu blinks. "Oh, are you going to be the Jounin Captain now?"

That's good. It's a lot more desk work. His job would be to manage the affairs of all jounin. So he wouldn't be taking a lot of missions. Wetwork would be left to the minions under his command.

Minato's smile somehow brightens up and frays along the edges at the same time. "Even better, Lord Third just told me that I'm going to become Lord Fourth."

"No way!" Kakashi cries out, drawing the attention of folks nearby. "Hokage-sama chose you to be his successor?"

They're still in the hospital lobby. It's not the most private place to talk. People filter in and out constantly - some bursting through the doors if it's an emergency. They really should continue this conversation somewhere else, but Zenitsu finds himself stuck.

Hokage. His brother is going to become Hokage. Zenitsu is not surprised, not at all. Minato was doomed to succeed. He's always known this. He just thought... He had hoped that they would have more time together.

He drags in a short pull of air, trying to breathe past the thick lump in his throat. Oh fuck. He's not gonna cry. He's not. He's going to be cool about this. Fucking hell. He needs to act like a proper older brother for once in his stupid life!

Standing up straight, Zenitsu stretches his mouth into a smile. "Congratulations. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Minato clears his throat and turns away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Thanks, Zen-nii."

That was pathetic. Dead men talking would have sounded way livelier than they did just now. His little brother achieved his lifelong dream. Zenitsu should be jumping with joy and hollering from the rooftops.

Opening his mouth, a thousand platitudes come to mind. Great job! Never doubted ya! Thanks for the hard work! But these were all shitty and insincere. So his tongue twists and he ends up shutting his mouth.

"Did I hear that right?" A nurse walks up to them. "You're going to be the Hokage, Namikaze-san?"

"Oh that's wonderful!" Another nurse chimes in. "We always expected great things from you!"

"It's about damn time," says the old woman waiting in the lobby. "That Hiruzen shoulda retired years ago. Hmph."

"Well, he was looking for the right successor," says the old woman's caretaker. "And there's no one better for the job than the legendary Yellow Flash."

A crowd begins to form as the news takes flight on the wing of a whisper. People want to personally congratulate Minato, eager to sing him praises. His little brother offers each of them a smile, thanking them gracefully. Sage have mercy. The village is going to melt at his feet.

Zenitsu watches as a wall of well-wishers surround his brother. He sighs and his smile shrinks to something more honest. Somehow, this feels awfully familiar. With Minato distracted, Zenitsu takes a good, long look at him.

They remain the same height. But his little brother stands straight and sure. Zenitsu tends to slouch or hunch over. His little brother wears a perfectly pressed jounin uniform. Zenitsu walked out wearing a wrinkled track suit. His little brother stays skinny because he eats like a bird. Zenitsu happily stuffs himself full and puts on pounds with ease. Minato is going to become Hokage. Zenitsu just booked his ticket for the crazy house.

They really are nothing alike.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Minato can't get closer to his brother.

A thick clump of drunkards surround the makeshift stage. They hoot and holler, stomping their feet to the rhythm of Zen-nii's music. The air feels electric - feverish - alive and Minato could almost suspect that there's some jutsu at work. But he's seen enough of Zen-nii's performances to know that this was normal. His brother is a talented musician, the very best in the village. No one could draw in a bigger crowd than him.

There's even more people than usual tonight. Word got out that Team Seven is heading to the Kiri front. So everyone piled into the bar, hoping to hear Zen-nii play, just in case this was truly the last time.

Of course, his brother is keenly aware of his mortality - more so than anyone. Minato fully expected him to play solemn and grim songs. Except, Zen-nii chose cheery melodies and upbeat tunes. His music got people off their butts and on their feet.

They didn't even need extra money. Their chuunin stipend is generous enough, even during wartime. And Zen-nii hasn't played in so long because he doesn't have to. Yet, here he is, on the eve of their deployment, rocking out. Likely, he's not getting paid for this, which makes sense. This is a gift, freely given. If tonight might be his last, then his brother would make it a good night. It would be a good night for everyone.

But they could have a good night every night. Minato remembers Tsunade-hime's words. His brother could perform in the daimyo's court or snag a radio deal or be something other than a shinobi. Zen-nii isn't like him. Zen-nii has options.

And yet - and yet - and yet, his brother chooses to stay at Minato's side. If that meant becoming a shinobi, then so be it.

The lively laughter starts to sour in Minato's ears. He bites his lip and clenches his fist, spinning around and heading out the bar. Zen-nii won't mind if he ducks out early. He's got plenty of folks to keep him company.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

For the longest time, he's accepted that he will be a disappointment to his brother. He tried his hardest to do right by him, of course he did. His brother had always been there for him. But his brother is just so good and he's simply not. There had been one single, shining moment when he thought - he really honestly thought that they would be okay. He had been fooling himself and now his brother knew for sure that there really wasn't anything special about him.

Minato sits at his new desk in the Hokage office. Zenitsu stands at the gates, with a full pack on his shoulders.

"Are you sure you don't want to say goodbye? You're going to be gone for a long time." Kakashi asks Zenitsu, standing next to him, equally ready for the road.

"It's an intel mission, right? Like Lord Jiraiya's?" Obito asks Minato, looking out the window with his one eye, carrying a stack of important documents.

"He's probably got better things to do," Zenitsu answers, ruffling Kakashi's hair.

"He's probably in a rush to leave. It's best not to delay him," Minato replies, taking the stack of documents.

Maybe now, maybe this way, his brother can be happier. Without him around, his brother could finally reach his full potential.

It will be better this way.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

Chapter Text

"Didja knoooow..." Tsume says, drawling out the last syllable.

They're right on top of the border, closer to home than not. Her team and Team 7 sit around a sad, pile of sticks that they managed to lit on fire. Someone (her sensei) optimistically called this setup a camp. Tsume likes to call it a whore's afternoon special because this shit sucks.

The boys of Team 7 glance over at her. Zen-teme uses his sleeve to wipe the snot dripping from his nose. The smoke didn't agree with him.

"The face you make when you're about to sneeze is the same face you make when you're about to jizz."

There's a few seconds when everyone blinks at her, frowning or pinching their brows. Then, as if on cue, Zen-teme starts building up a sneeze. His mouth drops open and his eyes squeeze shut.

Akimichi and the nerdy Namikaze watch their teammate, horrified yet curious. Team Seven's sensei snickers then stops immediately after her sensei elbows him in the guts. When Zen-teme finally lets loose, his sneeze nearly puts out the fire. Yeesh. The lungs on this guy.

"Was that good for you?" Tsume leers at him.

Zen-teme gives her a blank look. When he finally puts the pieces together, he notices the stares sent his way and screeches loud enough to alert anyone within a 50 meter radius. Well. Break time's over then. If any lurking enemies didn't hear that, then they were already dead.

Nerdy Namikaze sighs very deeply. Yoshino smacks a palm against her brow, shaking her head. Kushina squints, scrunching up her nose like she's trying to solve math.

"That's what guys look like when they come?" Attagirl, Kushina-chan. Tsume can always count on her to ask the real questions.

Zen-teme splutters and spews out syllables that never make a full word.

"Brat," Her sensei barks. "Where'd you hear that bullshit?"

"Sensei, we're training to be hunter nin. When we're stalking our targets, nine times outta ten, they end up at the Red Light District. Where do you think I heard it?" Tsume sneers, allowing her fangs to peek out.

Kuromaru snorts. "She heard it from her cousins."

Tsume growls at him, snapping her teeth. "Fucking narc!"

Kuromaru is less than impressed but before he can respond, Team Seven's sensei perks up.

"Look alive. We got incoming."

Tsume and her teammates head for the nearest trees. Kushina swings up using one of her chakra chains then glances at the Nerdy Namikaze to see if he noticed. He didn't. He's too busy dragging his blubbering brother.

What a fucking loser. Graduating to genin rank should have cleaned up his act. But no, Zen-teme remains a total disaster. He's crying now - full on, fat tears and snot smear across his face. Gross. And he never shuts up either. He's making all kinds of noises that sound like chewed up apologies. Nerdy Namikaze must be a saint to put up with that on a daily basis.

The rest of Team Seven manage to get on the branches, along with her team. Zen-teme is the only one on the ground. He tries to walk up but his feet kept slipping off the bark. As he continues to try and as he continues to fail, Tsume picks up the distinct scent of piss coming from him. Her eye twitches.

What the fuck was their sensei thinking? How could he pass such a hopeless loser like Zen-teme? This is basically killing the kid with extra steps. Now, he's gonna get all of them slaughtered. She looks over at Team Seven, waiting for them to jump down and help the poor bastard.

Their sensei has eyes only for the trees around them, searching for the enemies. But Akimichi and that nerdy Namikaze stand around like they're still on break. What the fuck happened to "look alive"? Isn't Minato some kinda bro-con? He's just yelling out tips like now's the perfect time for a tree-walking lesson. Uh, a little late for that, innit?

"Help him!" Kushina shouts at Team Seven.

Minato turns to her, blinking his baby doll eyes. "I am?"

"Not with his chakra control, dumbass! Get him on the tree!"

"Minatooo! They're almost heeeere!" Zen-teme wails out.

"He'll never learn if I keep doing stuff for him," Minato frowns at Kushina, before turning to his brother. "It's okay, Zen-nii! You almost got it! Why don't you take a running start?"

Zen-teme hiccups and sobs. Tsume feels right sorry for the poor bastard. She's about to jump down and grab him when he backs up from the tree. Then he sprints forward, managing to run up four - almost five steps before his chakra control winks out.

Zen-teme drops to the forest floor, just in time to dodge two kunai aiming for his head. The weapons sail over him, sticking deep into the tree trunk. Tsume shifts her attention to the left, where the kunai came from. She sees the glint of metal and barks at Kuromaru. He leaps to her side and immediately transforms into her shape. Together, they spring off the tree using a textbook perfect Gatsuuga.

The enemy nin dodge. Tch. They're fast fuckers from Suna. She ends up eating dirt as the Gatsuuga digs a knee-deep trench. Kuromaru crashes into a bush, popping his transformation.

There's five of these Suna assholes. They're butthurt over the intel her team stole. Sucks to be them. Two back up and duck into hiding. The other three charge for the senseis. Of course, the grown ups take the highest priority.

Kushina snags one with her chakra chains. Her delighted shout cuts off when the body turns into a puppet and she gets a faceful of senbon. Akimichi stretches his super-sized arm in front of her, allowing the needles to bounce off his forearm guard.

Her sensei jumps onto a nearby tree as another puppet launches from the shadows. Yoshino pulls out a scroll and unseals a long bo staff. Without a second wasted, she knocks the second puppet out of the air, breaking most of it.

Team Seven's sensei ducks and weaves the wind jutsus thrown by two Suna nin. These guys are mowing down the thickest branches like garden weeds. Then their puppeteers grab hold of the chopped wood to use as projectile weapons. Tsume is resentfully impressed.

She lost track of the nerdy Namikaze. But Zen-teme is lying flat on the ground. She squints at him. No fucking way.

"Did this motherfucker just faint on us?!"

Seriously, this guy is unbelievable. He's only alive because he's too worthless to target. Actually, that might explain his entire life. It fucking figures.

She catches Kuromaru's eye. He spits a few twigs out and nods at her. Second verse same as the first - they aim Gatsuuga at the wind users. Their attack shreds through the chakra-controlled debris, allowing them a clear shot.

The Suna nin try to dodge but they found their feet stuck. A series of seals blaze to life in the tree under them. Tsume and Kuromaru plow into them with ease. This knocks the wind right outta them (Ha!). But they stay conscious.

She lands next to Team Seven's sensei, with Kuromaru on his other side. The old guy's halfway through the hand signs of a jutsu. The Suna Nin get back on their feet. One of them wipes blood leaking out their mouth. Nice. She definitely broke that guy's rib. Before they could try another attack, Team Seven's sensei unleashes some kind of hair strike.

The broken rib guy uses the blood leaking out his mouth to perform a summon. There's a poof of smoke and a weasel with a scythe appears. It slashes through the attacking hair and guns straight for them. Team Seven's sensei reacts before she can, picking her up with one arm and snagging Kuromaru with the other arm.

He leaps down, avoiding the attack. But a puppeteered piece of wood clips him in the shoulder, throwing his trajectory into a nearby tree. She and Kuromaru fall out of his hold. These fucking sand-eaters! She's gonna build a pyre out of their damn puppets and roast them alive!

The Inuzuka style is at a severe disadvantage against long ranged fighters like these assholes. She looks at her team, hoping for their help, but she finds them in a bad state.

The puppet that Yoshino destroyed wasn't actually destroyed. It was meant to break so all its different parts could encircle its targets in ninja wire. Yoshino is bound from head to toe. Her sensei is all cut up from deflecting the puppet parts, unable to make use of his poison specialty without a body to poison.

As for Kushina and Akimichi, they're pinned as the other puppet releases a noxious gas. Kushina's chains have vanished and Akimichi has shrunk. They're on their knees, coughing out their lungs.

Tsume quickly dodges a bunch of wood lobbed her way. But Kuromaru isn't fast enough. One spiny branch slices right through his ear as a log smacks him to the ground. She screams, high and furious.

Team Seven's sensei is on his feet, battling the summoned weasel. His taijutsu is good but the overgrown rat is flexible. He can't land a good enough hit. And now the wind users are trying to put her out of commission. She hears the whistle of an incoming jutsu but Kuromaru's situation distracted her. She won't be able to dodge in time. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braces for the pain.

Something warm and solid encloses her torso. She smells ozone like the air before a storm. Cloth presses against her cheek and she hears a steady heartbeat. Tsume opens her eyes.

Namikaze Zenitsu carries her in his arms. His face wears the expression of someone deeply asleep. He's got a bubble of snot coming out his nose. What.

"Tsume, here." Namikaze Minato appears next to his brother, with Kuromaru slung across his shoulders.

He sets her partner down on the ground as Zenitsu places her beside him. He offers her a roll of bandages which she takes silently because the world stopped making sense so understandably, she forgot her entire vocabulary.

"Minato, 50 meters due west."

"Got it."

The next few seconds will remain imprinted in Tsume's memory for the rest of her life. Minato uses shunshin and vanishes from her sight. Zen-teme - loser Zen-Zen, dead last of the class - slides into a low stance. Lightning crackles across his form as his hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword.

"Thunder Breathing. First Form. Thunderclap and Flash."

The ground breaks apart beneath his feet. Pressure distorts the air around him. His eyes snap open, blank white with power.

"Sixfold."

Zenitsu disappears. A streak of blue lightning replaces him. Tsume can barely follow its movements. First, it slices through the scythe-weilding weasel, dispelling the summon. Then, it slashes through the gas-expelling puppet, destroying its internal mechanisms. Finally, it slices through the wires coming from the other puppet, releasing Yoshino from its bindings and stopping the attacks on her sensei.

There's a loud yelp in the distance. Kicked out from the shadows, two Suna nin crash through the foliage with sealing tags on their foreheads. They writhe in pain as Minato steps into view, tucking away his paintbrush. The puppets drop from the air, crashing onto their owners.

Somewhere above her, Team Seven's sensei works on the remaining Suna nin. Her sensei is busy giving the antidote to Kushina and Akimichi, so she should probably help him. But Kuromaru's injury means that she's effectively at half fighting capacity. Gritting her teeth, she focuses on bandaging up her partner. That ear wound is all sorts of nasty. She doubts that they'll be able to save it.

It turns out that her help is completely unnecessary, because the Nami-fucking-Kaze twins ain't done yet.

"Remember, just like I showed you," Minato murmurs to his brother, walking him through a set of hand signs.

Zen-teme allows his brother to move his hands. When Minato lets go, he slowly and carefully repeats the signs. They do some kind of weird twin telepathy thing before leaping up into the air.

In absolute sync - movements matched to the tiniest twitch of their pinky fingers, they perform a wind and fire jutsu. The two techniques intertwine into a single, seamless strike. The leftover Suna nin are now covered in oil courtesy of Team Seven's sensei. Unable to dodge such a huge attack, they attempt to counter it. But the Namikaze's explosive jutsu overpowers theirs, likely consuming their wind jutsus to empower the flames.

It looks like she'll get her pyre after all.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

The Kiri-nin have mastered guerilla warfare. When facing them on their home turf, Konoha is hopelessly outmatched. Lord Third has ordered a full retreat but not without leaving presents behind. Why? Deterrent, of course. They can't have the Seven Swordsmen following them home like lost puppies.

Shibi was called in to send their dear foes a message. Why? He specializes in sabotage. Aburame are equipped with a versatile skill set. They can work in Tracking, Support, Intelligence, and a few of his more ambitious kinfolk carved out a place at the frontlines. Shibi chose to become a saboteur. Why? He never cared for bombastic displays of strength. Working behind the scenes as a dagger in the dark suits him best.

Of course, established army encampments can hardly be destroyed single-handedly. His backup should arrive soon.

"He's... buzzing?"

Shibi inclines his head, turning to face whoever spoke. He finds a trio of twelve year old shinobi. They wore flak vests to signify their rank as chuunin. But at first glance, Shibi would be forgiven for thinking that they were genin. Why? They are all quite small. The Akimichi is bigger, certainly, but in any way denoting adulthood. As for the two blond boys, well...

Shibi had to wonder if they were lost, or given the wrong mission scroll. It's hard to imagine these three taking down an enemy stronghold. But he allows them to come closer. They reach a respectful distance by the time his scout kikaichu returned. He holds out his finger for the little thing to land on. It does so happily before ducking under his sleeve.

"Mi - Mi - Minato, this guy... This guy... He's full of bugs. That buzzing noise came from inside his body." One blond boy whispers to the other blond boy.

He speaks of Shibi as if Shibi is not standing right in front of him. What a rude little boy.

"These bugs nest under my skin. They feed on my chakra. I command them as needed. It's symbiotic," Shibi tells them.

"EEEEH?!"

"Too loud, Zen-nii!"

"But that's so GROSS!"

"You guys don't know about the Aburame?" The Akimichi asks, raising one eyebrow.

"I have read about the Aburame. And we had a couple of Aburame classmates." The blond boy named Minato looks and addresses him directly. "This will be our first time working with the Aburame clan. We thank you for your care."

Minato bows. After a second, he grabs hold of his brother's vest and drags him down to bow. The Akimichi doesn't need such manhandling and bows alongside his teammates. Well, at least two have manners enough to spare the third.

Shibi nods at them. "We will make camp here. Tomorrow, we begin our mission."

The other blond boy, the supposedly older brother, grimaces as he glances around. The dirt is damp beneath them. This part of the world sees plenty of rain and fog. There's moss growing on everything - trees, rocks, and stray debris from past skirmishes. His kikaichu can certainly fly even in such moist conditions. But it would cut their speed considerably.

"Minatooooo, this place is so weeeeet. Do we gotta camp heeeeere?"

Whoever promoted this boy must have made a serious error in judgement. He briefly recalls that the Lord Third's student recently promoted his entire genin team. Ah. So, it's nepotism then. Excellent.

"Yes. We are camping here," Shibi tells them. "Why? Because I am the senior chuunin in charge, and I said so."

The rude boy flinches when he hears Shibi speak, and shuffles to hide behind his allegedly younger brother. There is a look of disgust on his face which Shibi finds familiar. He usually sees such expressions on civilians when they hear of his clan's abilities. Well, this rude boy is civilian born. In contrast, his brother is acquitting himself nicely.

Minato bows to him again as the rude boy clings to his back. "Please excuse my brother. He can be... exuberant."

The Akimichi snorts. "Or you know, don't. Take full offense."

Minato shoots a look at his teammate. The Akimichi shrugs.

"If Zenitsu started dissing me, my clan, and my authority, I'd smack him."

"But buuuuuggggsssss," The now named Zenitsu hisses out. "Your family just gets bigger. Nothing wrong there."

"I'll remember that the next time you call me fatso, you little rat." The Akimichi smirks at him.

Zenitsu sticks out his tongue at his teammate. Minato sighs long and loud. Shibi hides a small amused grin behind his tall collar.

They make camp.

It was challenging to light a fire. But they managed to keep a small blaze going. Since the enemy territory sat so close by, they couldn't afford to hunt. Supper ended up as anything edible in their packs, which turned out to be dry and crumbly ration bars. The Akimichi and Zenitsu gnawed on theirs with pitiful faces.

Shibi held out a ration bar in the palm of his hand and allowed a small cloud of his kikaichu to consume it. His kikaichu feed off his chakra primarily so the ration bar will do little for them. And he can't eat things through his kikaichu. But it was worth one ration bar to see the look of horror flash across Zenitsu's face.

Shibi cleared his throat to stifle a chuckle. "Alright, let's go over the plan."

"Are we really going to destroy a whole enemy encampment?" Minato asks.

"No. That would be impossible," Shibi answers shortly.

"Ha?!? Then - But - Nngh!"

The Akimichi gently places a hand over Zenitsu's mouth.

"They are going to destroy their camp for us," Shibi explains.

Zenitsu gives him an unimpressed glare. Minato rubs his chin, thinking. The Akimichi continues to watch him attentively. Shibi takes a stick and drags it across the muddy ground. He sketches out a rudimentary map.

"The Kiri nin have established a base here in these cliffside caves. There's tunnels connecting each cave, allowing them to settle in for the long term."

Shibi studies the team before him, allowing his stare to rest on each boy briefly. Minato and the Akimichi meet his stare. Zenitsu quickly ducks his head down, avoiding him.

"I have crossbred my kikaichu with the local locusts in the Land of Fire. I need a suitable escort to watch my back so I can leave kikaichu in their food stores."

"If we target their logistics, then they can't remain in the caves. We will essentially force them out, thereby rendering their base useless in the long term - functionally destroying it," Minato nods, putting the pieces together.

"Can't they just kill all your bugs?" The Akimichi asks.

Shibi allows his grin to peek over his collar. "If they can find all the eggs. Of course, the longer I have to plant my kikaichu, the more effective it will be."

"But why is it us?" Zenitsu pipes up, shoving away the Akimichi's hand. "Our team specializes in defense not sabotage!"

"We're definitely not sneaky enough," the Akimichi adds.

"Well, broadly speaking, Lord Third tasked us with protecting the retreat from the Kiri front. This would be another way to accomplish that," Minato explains.

"Exactly as you said," Shibi confirms. "We don't need to successfully destroy their camp. We simply need to discourage them from pursuing our retreat. This will be a deterrent."

"A detergent?" The Akimichi echoes.

"A deterrent, dummy," Zenitsu says.

Akimichi casually thumps Zenitsu's arm. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Kinoko raises a good point earlier," Minato cuts in. "We aren't a team built for stealth. How would we help you?"

Shibi eyes the boy in front of him. His eyes trail up to the shock of blond hair on the twins' heads. Not built for stealth indeed.

"What are you built for?"

"Evasion," Kinoko the Akimichi answers.

"We are quite fast. Our assignment requires that we create an effective distraction so our shinobi can fall back safely. We could..." Minato catches Zenitsu's eye.

Zenitsu gasps. "That's right! And then we..." Zenitsu turns to Kinoko.

Kinoko hums out an agreement. "That way we can..."

And in unison, all three cry out, "Exactly!"

"Kindly explain for those of us that need words?" Shibi asks wryly.

"We can lead them on a wild and merry chase," Minato says, looking exactly as a twelve year old should. "It would be like playing tag, but with fatal consequences."

"So nothing like tag," Zenitsu grumbles. "But we're good at tag. Me and Minato can run circles around them. Kinoko will create obstacles from afar."

"Muddy ground would be in our favor," Kinoko agrees. "I can make it a real pain in the ass to chase after us. We are the masters of being annoying."

"Let's steal something!" Minato suggests apropos of nothing. "If we can just duck in with you, Shibi. Then get seen on the way out with whatever we found, they'll all come running."

"That's too dangerous!! We won't have a head start if we're coming out of the caves!"

"Kinoko will stay outside and prep any traps. We can keep a headstart that way."

"Yeah, I'm down."

"Uuuuuuuuugggghh..."

Minato blinks then snaps his head towards Shibi. "I mean, that is, if you are amenable to such a plan, sir."

Shibi lets out an audible chuckle. "We can discard formalities. Why? I am simply glad to know that someone here remembers my lone presence."

Minato frowns and squints at him. "Hmm… Pardon me if this sounds… impertinent, but why are you alone?"

Shibi raises an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

"We are about to contend with an enemy stronghold and they send four chuunin? Regardless of your seniority, this mission should be an A-rank, don't you think so?"

Shibi rolls his shoulders, allowing his high collar to cover more of his face. "You were not the first choice for this mission. Correct. Unfortunately, my team died, including the jounin captain."

Zenitsu gasps. Kinoko winces. Minato folds his brow. All three look at him with pity. Shibi ignores them and soldiers on, as they all must.

"To protect our retreating shinobi, we must carry out this mission. I received confirmation from Lord Danzo himself. But yes," Shibi adjusts his glasses. "We are under-ranked for this."

Zenitsu tugs on Minato's sleeve. "Let's run away."

The audacity of this boy appears limitless.

Minato shakes his head at him, appearing quite mournful. "Zen-nii…"

Zenitsu turns to Kinoko. "This is assisted suicide."

Kinoko sighs but offers up a wan smile. "Hey. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Zenitsu is not amused. He starts to tear up, taking a deep breath.

Shibi cuts him off before the boy can do something unseemly. "I will allow your plan. We will all sneak in, and I will hide somewhere ahead of you. Why? So you can be seen by the Kiri nin and they will not realize one of us remains inside."

Zenitsu wails and hugs his knees against his chest. He rocks himself back and forth. "We're all gonna diiiieee!"

Minato pats his brother's back. This only encourages Zenitsu to cry louder.

Shibi rolls his eyes behind his opaque lenses. Then he declares that their team meeting is over. He picks Zenitsu to take first watch. The boy ignores him and continues begging his teammates to back out. Shibi is about to kick him from the mission if he feels so strongly about it. But Minato speaks up first.

"Zen-nii, you know that if you wanted to run away, I wouldn't stop you. Maybe Shibi-san will write you up or something. But I won't keep you here. It is dangerous."

"So you'll run away with me?"

"No."

That shuts him up. Zenitsu takes the first watch without another peep.

The night passes peacefully.

In the morning, Shibi watches the team's preparations. Kinoko is stretching. Zenitsu remains asleep. Minato is polishing and sharpening a blade. He also appears to be painting seals on it. Curious.

Breakfast is skipped. There's no point in enduring their ration bars and those give only a pittance of energy regardless. Minato sheathes the sword and carries it over to his sleeping brother. But he doesn't wake Zenitsu.

Shibi watches in quiet fascination as Minato takes his brother's hand and starts painting the palm. More seals. The formula briefly glows which Shibi presumes to mean Minato channeled chakra into it. Did he just seal his brother?

When Minato finishes doing whatever he just did, then he finally wakes Zenitsu.

"Five more minuuuuuutes..."

"No, lazy butt. Now."

"Tyrant. Bully. Jerk."

"Now, Zen-nii. I will splash water on you."

"Mmmmnnnngggghhh, nooooo..."

"Yeeeeessss!"

This goes on for awhile and just as Shibi prepares to step in, Zenitsu sits up. His little snot bubble pops.

"You could have kept him sleeping, Mimi-chan," Kinoko tells him. "It won't make much of a difference."

"Yeah, Mimi-chaaaan. Listen to our nice, fatso teammate."

Kinoko lobs a rock at Zenitsu. This causes him to shriek and flail and successfully dodge the incoming projectile.

"I really wish you hadn't shared that nickname," Minato huffs.

"Awww, is ickle Mimi-chan grump grump? Would he like to take nappy?"

"Keep talking Zen-nii, and I'll burn your collection of bounty posters."

"You have a collection of bounty posters?" Shibi asks. Strange. He would not have marked the boy as a hunter-nin type.

"Oh whoops, did I just let that slip?" Minato presses a finger against his lips, looking absurdly innocent.

"You little -" Zenitsu lunges for his brother who sidesteps away.

"They're all posters of pretty kunoichi," Kinoko explains.

"Not... all of them," Minato tacks on, smiling too widely.

"The posters are drawn very well!! I'm appreciating the art!"

"Yeah, and Jiraiya-sensei's work could be considered literature," Kinoko snorts.

"I'm memorizing the faces so I know who to watch out for!"

"Uhuh, even the men?"

"No, the men I keep for target practice," Zenitsu says with a sniff. "You shouldn't get to be strong, famous, and handsome. That's just unfair!!"

Minato and Kinoko share a speaking look.

Shibi claps his hands. "Shall we get started?"

The happy mood vanishes like a teaspoon of sugar in a swirling sea. The boys turn to him with matching, somber eyes. They pack up camp and no one speaks another friendly word.

Despite dire predictions, the mission starts smoothly. They each perform their roles effectively, even Zenitsu. The trouble comes near the end, just as Shibi exits the Kiri base. It plays out like some sort of karmic joke. Shibi is the stealth specialist. He was the original member of the saboteur team. And yet, it was him who made the grave error.

Kinoko stood further away, as planned. He turned the muddy ground into swamp land at strategic places, keeping the enemies away from his teammates. And in turn, his teammates blocked any enemy coming toward him. Minato and Zenitsu danced around the Kiri nin chasing them. They left trails of lightning and whips of water in their wake, electrocuting anyone hounding them.

Minato had an armful of scrolls which he had pulled out from his storage seals. But for the moment, he claimed that these scrolls belonged to Kiri and he had managed to steal them. He made a very convincing "guilty" face as he was "discovered". With the distraction well in hand, Shibi had easily planted his locust kikaichu eggs. Thousands upon thousands of them now waited to hatch. For all intents and purposes, the mission was a success.

His survival is not a requirement for success.

Shibi did not give the three other chuunin, especially Zenitsu, enough credit. His temporary teammates do their job. But he lies flat against the ground, staring at the encampment's jounin captain. The blade is only a pinkie's width from his throat. He does not flinch. He does not scream. He does not fight.

Saboteur teams have high fatality rates. It is a risky business that always involves going behind enemy lines. Shibi has defied the odds by finishing so many assignments and living to be the ripe, old age of fifteen. But the reaper was bound to collect its dues someday. At least he will get to reunite with his team.

Using all the air in his lungs, Shibi yells to his team, "Flee you fools!"

Without making overt movements, his kikaichu buzz out of his sleeves. The Kiri nin have poured out of their base, outnumbering them 4 to 1. Even if Shibi could overpower the jounin captain at his throat, he could not overpower or outrun everyone around him. So he chooses option 2.

There is a clay jar hidden in his coat. Before he parted with his kinsfolk, one of the frontliners gave him this. His kikaichu uncorks the clay jar and a single mosquito flies out. The other mosquitos had already been used in the disastrous fight that killed his team captain. He saved this last one precisely for this situation.

It takes only one prick. The poison is quite elegant. His cousin had outdone herself. The initial effect was an intense bout of drowsiness. Shibi would fall asleep and it would all be over.

The twins had other plans. Somehow, they know about the mosquito and its poison. But they stand side by side, half a kilometer away from Shibi. It should be too far for them to do anything. Except, apparently, it's not. In unison, they shout the name of a jutsu. The air is electrified.

Later, they will explain that it's the effect of two techniques blended together. They were using Kiri's mist against them. Minato adds more moisture and Zenitsu brings the lightning. The current jumps from micro-droplet to micro-droplet. It has a wide area of effect but barely stronger than a standard static shock. It is enough to kill Shibi's single mosquito.

As his escape plan falls to the wet earth, smoking, the twins move. If Shibi had thought that they were fast before, then it was nothing compared to their speed now. Notably, they had their hands clasped tight between them, Minato's right and Zenitsu's left linked together.

The Kiri nin are confused by such a weak attack. But they see the twins charging and they retaliate. Kunais, shuriken, and water or ice bullets soar their way. They dodge even as they cling to each other. As the twins begin their mad dash towards Shibi, and they must be aiming for him surely, Kinoko reminds everyone that he should never be forgotten. He creates sinkholes that swallow any enemy targeting his teammates. The Kiri nin fall like a Saturday morning cartoon, far too focused on the twins to pay the earth beneath them any attention. The holes seal shut, leaving the trapped enemies no other choice but to dig their way out.

In all this chaos, the jounin captain could have plunged his sword into Shibi's throat. But Shibi's death was never the aim. Kiri prioritizes intel. As blood thirsty as their reputation is, they generally refrain from killing outright. So the jounin captain adjusts his blade, awaiting the right moment to counter the incoming attack.

He never sees it coming. Rain falls from the sky, heading for a pair of bright blond hair. Zenitsu hisses out a cloud of breath. Minato leaps up, pulling both feet off the ground. Then with Zenitsu's next step, they vanish.

Rain hits the earth without ever touching the twins. In the same second, they appear before the jounin captain in a blinding, thunderous flash. Zenitsu is pulling his brother behind him. The jounin captain manages to swing at them but Zenitsu stops short of his blade's reach and flings Minato away from him, separating their hands. The seals on their palms burn bright.

Minato soars over the jounin captain's head. The brothers keep one arm outstretched and pointed at him.

"Shiki! (Formula!)"

A circle of seals erupts around the jounin captain. Its circumference connects the twins' hands.

The jounin captain snarls, freeing one hand from his blade to form a hand seal.

The twins don't let him finish his jutsu. The circle of seals snap like an overstretched rubber band. It crowns the jounin captain with black ink scribed across his brow.

The blade falls from the jounin captain's grip, landing at the same time Minato's feet finally touch the ground once more. The jounin captain stands motionless. A little drool escapes his mouth. Shibi studies him in wonder.

"What-"

"It won't last long," Minato says, hauling Shibi to his feet. "He has so much chakra. The seals -"

Shibi doesn't let him finish. He sends a wave of his kikaichu at the jounin captain. They begin to feast on the chakra basically presented to them on a silver platter.

Minato's jaw clicks shut. He keeps eyes on Shibi's kikaichu even as he ducks a hail of undoubtedly poisoned senbon. Zenitsu gags dramatically and pulls out his sword. A flick of his wrist deflects an incoming barrage of ice shards.

The kikaichu crawl into every exposed hole on the jounin captain's face. He begins to foam at the mouth, all his muscles seizing tightly. The seal brands his brow with a burning red formula. Then, between one second and the next, the jounin captain goes completely limp, and he drops like a puppet with its strings cut.

Deceased.

Later, Shibi will learn that the twins used a modified version of a modified seal. In fifteen words or less, it severs the brain stem from the entire nervous system. Given enough chakra, the target can easily destroy the seals, overloading the formula and causing it to catastrophically fail. But again, this hinges on the target having enough chakra.

When facing half of an Aburame's nest, having enough chakra is rarely an option.

So they killed the jounin captain. Shibi looks at the collected Kiri nin surrounding them. A few of the trapped enemies are already crawling out of their sinkholes. They do not appreciate this sudden vacancy within their military personnel. How shocking.

"You should have ran," Shibi tells them shortly.

"Uh? You're welcome?" Zenitsu scowls.

Shibi stares at him. It's hard to reconcile the crying coward with the boy that blitzed through the enemy ranks.

"What? It's rude to stare, you know!"

Shibi shakes his head. Zenitsu and Minato have talent unlike anything he's ever seen. They are the reason for their continued survival. But death remains imminent. Why? They remain outnumbered and outplanned.

The Kiri nin close in, circling them like the ravenous sharks they are. A few actually display their razor sharp teeth as they grin at them.

"Now they will torture us for every piece of information we have."

Minato grins, boyish and playful and more appropriate on a playground than a battleground. "They have to catch us first."

Zenitsu snorts and looks at his brother. "How do you wanna do this?"

"In a flashy way, Zen-nii."

The twins nod at each other.

A gilled Kiri nin watches them with deep suspicion. She paces just a few meters from them, twirling a water lasso, ready to ensnare them once she finds an opening. Shibi eyes her, and the dozen other Kiri nin nearby. The twins pay them no mind as they form the same hand sign, molding their chakra.

"What -"

"Close your eyes, Shibi-san," Minato orders.

A foolish man would have contested such a blatant usurpation of authority. Minato is the junior chuunin. He's in no position to give orders. Shibi is not a foolish man. Shibi closes his eyes, squeezing shut.

Later, the twins will explain that the technique operates on the foundation laid by their static shock jutsu. The Namikaze's chakra is already present within the mist. They simply need to add more. The result is a blinding blanket of light.

Here and now, sightless and clueless, Shibi could only wonder which god cursed and blessed him with this team for backup.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"PLEASE MARRY ME!!"

Such a heartfelt plea! It seems the seed of love has finally born fruit. Truly, there is nothing like a wedding to commemorate the springtime of youth!

Dai must congratulate them. How lucky he is for he appears to be heading in the happy couple's direction. He puts a bit more spring in his step, his pack bouncing against his back.

"I'M GONNA DIE SOON SO I NEED YOU TO MARRY ME!!!"

Dai blinks and pauses mid-stride. That sounds quite dire indeed. Did the young man have some sort of ailment? Has the springtime of his youth been tragically cut short? How utterly miserable!

He must offer his condolences. Clearly his poor bride-to-be is speechless from sorrow! Perhaps they will need aid to return home. Emotions are known to overwhelm and the young man is already ill. Yosh! Dai speeds up his pace, going for a light jog.

"PLEASE!! I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE MARRY ME! PLEASE!!"

The cries have turned earnestly desperate. Dai folds his brow as he spots two travelers on the road ahead, a man and a woman. The man kneels on the ground, clinging to the woman. She keeps pushing him off. He refuses to let her go.

An offended fury sparks to life within Dai. He charges forward and peels the man from the woman, tossing him aside like the skin from a lemon. The bright yellow of his hair certainly resembles the fruit at least.

"Miss, please move along. I'll handle this ruffian."

"RUFFIAN?!" The man shouts.

The woman's eyes dart to his eyebrows and stay there. Distress flashes across her face before she remembers her manners and she bows her head.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

She sidesteps Dai, skirting around the man. But the blackguard reaches out, catching the hem of her kimono.

"NO! Please wait!"

Before Dai could grab him by the shoulders, the woman whips around and slaps him hard. The man tumbles over, falling hard on his back. He starts wailing.

"OOOOOOWWW!"

The woman goes for another hit. The man undoubtedly deserves it. Ruffians like him must learn to respect a woman's personal space. And yet, Dai finds himself stepping in between the woman and the man.

She manages to stop her strike before it could land on him. He would not have been hurt by such a weak attack. Regardless, he admires her presence of mind not to strike out blindly.

"Please miss. I must insist on handling this. You would best be on your way."

Again, she doesn't meet his eyes, fixing her gaze on his eyebrows before flicking down to glance at his mustache. She mechanically nods and backs away slowly.

"Wa-Wait!" The man scrambles after her.

Dai grabs hold of his collar as the woman shoots him a pain-promising glare. She spins on her heel and speeds off. The man wilts for all of a single second, before abruptly turning to him.

"What'd you do that for?? It had nothing to do with you!!"

Dai wrinkles his nose, grimacing at him. What a pathetic creature.

"What's with that look!! Stop that!! Why are you looking at me like I'm some kinda weirdo??" The man aggressively points at him. "It's your fault I'm like this!! I could have gotten married today!!"

Dai releases the man's collar, causing him to land on his butt. He folds his brow tighter, twisting his grimace into open disgust.

"FUCKING SAY SOMETHING YOU EYEBROW FREAK!!"

"Sage help me, I leave you alone for five minutes," says an exhausted voice.

Dai looks away from the man to see a fellow Konoha shinobi walking up to them. He has the same bright, blond hair as the ruffian before him. Distantly, Dai realizes that both men are wearing vests. They're chuunin at least, despite appearing half his age. The fires of youth must burn brightly for them.

Dai considers the disgraceful man still on the ground. He never thought that he would say this but... Perhaps some fires of youth need to be dimmed a little. It is not proper to go around proposing to unwilling women. As a gentleman, Dai shudders at such a wanton display.

"Minatooooo!" The man reaches out to the newcomer, presumably named Minato. "This - This eyebrow freak called me a ruffian!"

Minato grabs hold of the reaching hand and pulls him to his feet. "Did you deserve it?"

"HOW RUDE!!"

Rolling his eyes, Minato turns to face Dai and bows politely. "Please excuse us. I am Namikaze Minato and this ruffian is my twin, Namikaze Zenitsu."

"Greetings, young man! I am Maito Dai." He offers a thumbs-up and a toothy grin in lieu of the customary bow. "I need not excuse you for you have done nothing wrong. Your brother, however, can offer apologies himself without your aid."

"What's with that high and mighty attitude?!" The man now known as Zenitsu cries out. "I'm the one getting slapped and tossed around. He should apologize to me!"

Minato pins his brother with a wicked glare. Zenitsu shrinks like a tortoise retreating into its shell. He lowers his head and refuses to meet Dai's gaze.

"... Sorry for the trouble..." Zenitsu mumbles, barely audible.

Dai reaches over to pat him on the back but he... misjudges his strength and thwacks him between the shoulder blades. Zenitsu squawks and pitches forward, snapping an incredulous look his way. Dai grins without remorse, but perhaps with a hint of a warning. Zenitsu winces and scuttles behind his brother.

"Are you heading to Tanzaku-Gai, Maito-san?" Minato asks.

"Call me Dai, I insist!" He replies. "And yes! So I am! Shall we share the road?"

"Yes, we'd love to. Right, Zen-nii?"

Zenitsu nods, watching Dai warily.

They resume their journey down the road. Since technically they aren't a team, they forgo any standard formation and walk side by side. Likely to prevent further friction, Minato placed himself in the middle, between Zenitsu and Dai.

"So, Dai-san-"

"Dispense of the formalities, young Minato! It's just Dai."

"Right, Dai. Are you related to Maito Gai?"

"You know my son?!"

Zenitsu squeaks. "Son???"

"Yes! My boy is one of a kind! How do you know of him?"

"Kakashi mentioned him briefly."

"Kakashi! You must mean the child genius Kakashi! He's a chuunin now, isn't he? Truly, his prodigious talent is admirable. My son declared himself as his eternal rival, you know!"

"His son..." Zenitsu repeats in a hushed whisper.

"Did he?" Minato continues, ignoring his brother. "Kakashi didn't mention that. That's wonderful. He could use a friend."

"Oh Sage, he has a son..."

Dai copies Minato and ignores Zenitsu. "So how do you know the young Kakashi?"

"Oh, I'm his jounin sensei. But it's more of a master-apprentice situation."

Dai's jaw drops slightly."You're a jounin?"

"Oh, well, yes... My brother and I took the test nearly... a year ago? Wow."

"This eyebrow freak got laid?! He has a wife?!?" Zenitsu shouts, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He leans across Minato to look directly at Dai. "How did you-"

"Oh, here!" Minato cuts off his brother and pulls out a Konoha hitai-ite. In a single move, he slaps it on Zenitsu's brow and pushes him away from Dai. "Honestly, how did you lose this in the first place? You wear it literally everyday."

"Not true!" Zenitsu spits out, shifting his attention to Minato. He steps out of his brother's reach as he ties on the hitai-ite. "When I was training with Jiraiya, we never wore this. Stop being such a protocol police."

"That was different," Minato says firmly. "Just keep it on."

A Konoha shinobi? Forgetting his prized hitai-ite? The venerated symbol of their village? Perish the thought! Dai adds a proverbial tick mark against this Zenitsu fellow.

Minato brushes off Zenitsu's grumbling and turns to look at Dai. "So, what business brings you to Tanzaku-Gai?"

"A mission! I have been tasked with delivering a missive of the utmost importance!"

Zenitsu perks up at this. "Oh! You're doing courier work! Man, I miss doing that. Ever since we got promoted, it's been back to back A-ranks and B-ranks. Like give us a break already!! Are they trying to kill us?!?"

"Konoha would never assign you such missions if they didn't believe in your skills," Dai answers. "You must be truly dependable!"

"Unfortunately," Zenitsu mutters under his breath.

Dai decides not to hear this and addresses his next question to Minato. "Are you on a mission presently? I am at your service if ever you are in need of assistance."

Minato grins. "No, we're visiting a friend."

"Wonderful! Nothing excites the spirit more than sharing the springtime of youth with a friend!"

"Could you not shout!! Yeesh, where does this guy get all his freaking energy??"

"THE SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH!!" Dai shouts in reply. Now, he is not a petty man. He raised his voice simply because he is an exuberant man. And no one can prove otherwise.

"YOUTH?!?" For such a dour young man, Zenitsu can certainly match Dai's exuberance. "What youth?! You're an old timer! You're practically a fossil! You're going through your mid-life crisis!!"

"The springtime of youth is a state of the soul! Not the body!" Dai raises a clenched fist, allowing his knuckles to crack loudly.

Zenitsu squeaks.

Minato chuckles. There's a curious gleam in his eyes. "Kakashi told me that you and your son are incapable of channeling chakra. Is that true?"

"Eh?! What?? No way! Seriously?!"

Dai lifts his chin, staring straight at both brothers. "Yes, this is true."

"And you still became a shinobi?" Zenitsu raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dai grinds his teeth. He's heard this question far too many times. Too many people find his choices foolish at best and suicidal at worst. A shinobi that can't use chakra? What a sham!

"I seek to serve my village as best I can. If it means delivering messages, then I shall," he states with as much conviction as he can show.

"What does your wife think about this?" Zenitsu asks, something snide in his tone.

"She heartily approved of it, when she was still with us," he replies.

Zenitsu's jaw shuts with a satisfying click. He drops his gaze to the ground.

"But you can serve the village without becoming a shinobi," Minato points out.

"Yes, but I wanted to serve as a shinobi," Dai says plainly, punctuating his speech with a toothy grin.

Minato nods slowly. He tries to catch Zenitsu's eye. But his brother lifts his chin and looks directly ahead. With a sigh, Minato holds back whatever lurks in his thoughts.

They slide smoothly into silence. It's a pleasant day for a journey. The sun is out. The sky is clear. They arrive at Tanzaku-Gai without any trouble. Sparing a few seconds to say farewell, Dai moves on to complete his delivery, leaving the twins to visit their friend.

The rest of the day is spent in happy employment. When he dropped off the package, the client made another small request. He stayed for another hour to patch their roof. Then the neighbors saw his good work and offered him a meal to fix up their windows. Then someone's in-law asked for help cleaning out their storage. Then someone else had something else they needed done. By the time he helped everybody, the sun had started to set and strain had settled in his limbs. But his belly was bursting and his heart was prancing. He even snagged a few treats to give Gai upon his return.

As Dai made his way to the city's gates, a racket caught his ears. Now the hour of his departure is the same hour when Tanzaku-Gai's main tourist attraction - the "entertainment" district - woke up. Usually this holds no importance to him, for he is not the type to frequent such lurid establishments. Except, he finds himself drawn to a shop on the very edge of the Red Light District. But it was not the handsome women or the beautiful men that caught his attention. No, his ears caught a rapid-fire rhythm bursting with youthful energy. He could hear it over the cheering crowd gathered around the storefront.

What passion! What vigor! He has to see the source of such inflammatory music. So he slides himself through the energetic patrons and found himself before a woman of... unique beauty.

Of course, Dai is of the humble opinion that every woman of all shapes and sizes are beautiful. He may not appreciate the feminine form very vocally or obviously the way some of his fellows do. But he always finds something to appreciate in a woman.

This talented musician had a face unlike any he's seen before. She certainly stands apart from her willowy, silk-handed peers. She has a more... robust frame - broad shoulders and thick thighs. Her long fingers stroke and strum the strings of her shamisen with a ferocity, nothing like a lover's touch. Well... most lovers at least.

Dai is astounded by such a raw display of passion. She is fire. She is flame. She cannot be tamed. Truly, there can be no finer example for the springtime of youth.

Others must surely share his opinion. They crowd around her, cheering with feverish delight, enraptured by her energy.

Dai ends up staying through the whole performance. Before the finale, he is tapped on the shoulder by one of the working girls. Now again, Dai truly considers all women beautiful. Yet he is not blind. Some women can cause hearts to race with an effortless smile.

"Enjoying the show?" She asks.

Dai pulls himself together to offer his biggest, brightest grin. "It is a stupendous show!"

The working girl hides her giggle behind an elaborately patterned kimono sleeve. She is a fine sight indeed, with eyes that twinkle blue and hair the color of sun-washed wheat. She is tall - taller than most women. But Dai is taller than most men. It evens out.

Idly, he wonders if she would ask for his company tonight. Then sharply, he remembers that he only has a spare few coins in his pocket. He certainly could not afford her time. Alas, the woes of genin pay.

"Aniue is almost finished here," she tells him.

Dai swallows dryly. "Yes, I... I'm sure that many here have been invogorated by such display of musical mastery. You will be busy tonight."

The girl tilts her head. Her smile turns teasing. "Perhaps. Will you be staying?"

"No. I must return to my village."

She responds with a slight frown. He must wonder at her disappointment. Surely finer patrons - richer patrons can be found within this crowd. She can earn her keep twice over tonight, but certainly not from his pocket.

"You should be careful, kind sir. The roads are treacherous at night. Many lonesome travelers have disappeared around here. This one suggests staying in town till morning. Or at least first light."

Ah. So it's like that, is it? Dai rubs his chin. Tanzaku-Gai is under the protection of Konoha. Surely, his comrades will thwart any foul schemes. If not them, then he would pity any bandit that aimed for him.

Dai puffs up his chest. "Worry not, fair blossom. No ne'er-do-well can extinguish the fires of my youth."

The girl shakes her head. "Not criminals, good sir. The townsfolk speak of demons."

Dai blinks. "Demons?"

"Aye. Even if you do not stay with us, please stay within the city walls." The girl offers him a bow before moving away to find richer companions.

Her concern is sincere. Dai could tell. But she has been led astray. Demons do not exist. They probably confused a shinobi with a kekkei genkai for some sort of demon. This happens far too often.

Well. At least, Dai can better prepare for the road ahead. He may not be facing desperate civilians but rogue nin, likely his wayward comrades. It always hurts to see fellow Konoha nin turning their backs on the village. Yet face them, he shall. He allows himself no other choice. He doesn't have enough money to stay at an Inn.

Dai hefts the pack higher on his shoulders. Then, with a bounce in his step, he makes his way out of Tanzaku-Gai.

Between here and Konoha, there is a long, unlit path. It's easy to follow during the day or even a full moon night. Unfortunately, tonight's sky hosts a new moon. The pinprick of stars - even in the hundreds - is not enough illumination.

Yes. Travelers would make for easy prey, especially if their predators can see in the dark. Perhaps the rogue nin has some sort of night vision jutsu or they have fledgling sensory skills or... or he may have to contend with a rogue Uchiha. It couldn't be a Hyuuga for obvious reasons.

Dai tightens his fists around the straps of his pack. He lengthens his stride and speeds up his pace. He almost wants to dance, honestly. If he could trap this rogue nin, then perhaps - maybe - quite possibly, his superiors will finally see the strength of his skills. And if it is rogue Uchiha, and Dai defeated them without a team, well... He could burst into a fit of giggles. He really could.

He loses track of time - too lost in his fantasies. He should have noted his surroundings more closely. The attack knocks him off his feet.

THWACK!

His reflexes save his skin, allowing him to tuck, roll, and recover. Dai may be a genin, but he is a taijutsu master. It will take more than an underhanded ambush to keep him down. He pops to his feet, with boths fists at the ready, and faces his enemy.

A scaly face greets him. Dai briefly wonders if he's trapped in some sort of genjutsu. The enemy looks like a man-sized lizard. There's a far too flexible neck, wicked black claws, and a long, curving tail.

Ah. So perhaps the working girl can be excused for believing the rumors of demons. If this is a jutsu or some kind of kekkei genkai, Dai has not heard of it. Just in case, he flares out his chakra, attempting to dispel any illusions. Yet, the lizard man remains very present and terribly real.

He doesn't get much more time to think as his enemy literally leaps into action. Dai dodges the attack with a swift sidestep and counters with a heavy kick. The lizard-like enemy absorbs the blow before snapping forward with a fang-filled maw.

Back and forth, they exchanged strikes. His foe is strange and strong. Dai's bones ache from every block. His skin stings from numerous scratches. But he's winning, or he will. This lizard is no match for his taijutsu. He needs only one critical hit to end this battle.

Then more lizard foes appear.

Well.

That's just rude.

Dai could take on a lone lizard. He could snatch victory from the claws of five or even six lizards. A baker's dozen of enemies diving for him - that is more of a challenge. They attack from all sides, and there's only so many swipes that he can block.

One tail wraps around his right ankle. A set of jaws sink into his left wrist. He tries to break free but more pile on him, ensnaring and clutching any part of him that they can snag. In a few frantic seconds, he can no longer move. He resigns himself to using drastic measures.

Dai sees the light first - a pure white lined with a crackling, sparking blue. For a half second, he could almost believe that the sun had risen at midnight. It was simply so bright.

Then there was thunder.

It shook the earth, stunning all of his senses, and scattering his half-drafted plans. A few of the lizard foes were knocked clean off their feet.

When the echoing roar fades and the light dims to a flickering wink, Dai finds the young woman from before. She's the fervor-filled musician but a sword has replaced her shamisen. His throat turns drier than the Suna sands at the sight. He has never beheld anything more beautiful.

She stands with shoulders squared and feet planted firmly on the ground. The red ribbons in her hair hang loose, framing her face like twin trails of blood. Yet she has not a mark on her - no scratch or bruise - even as several lizards writhe and screech behind her. Their arms and tails fully severed from their bodies.

Dai is ready to sing an endless ballad praising her, but she doesn't pay him any attention. She won't even look in his direction, keeping both eyes shut tight. An expression of intense focus shapes her painted face.

Dai easily sees the cause for her concentration. Their lizard foes scream and thrash as their severed limbs regrow - muscle fibers knitting over forcefully extended bone. Within the space of a heartbeat, they appear whole and hale once more.

The battle is not over yet. And he would do well to follow her example. Freed from his restraints, he kicks away the foes nearby and handsprings closer to her side. They stand back to back, surveying the enemies around them.

Goosebumps spread over his arms. He is not the type to lust after blood and battle. Yet he does so relish a good, hard fight - especially in the company of a fearsome comrade.

"May I have the honor of knowing your name?" He asks her after breaking a lizard's ribs.

"Watch out!" She yells back.

Before he could puzzle out such a unique name, she dashes forward, swinging out her blade. She aims for the enemy at his back but the lizard manages to leap away, far from the cutting edge.

Dai catches a smirk tug on her mouth.

As her sword swings through the widest point of its arc, there's a flash of yellow. Twin sandals land on the dull edge, right above a strange marking etched onto the blade. A blond man balances on the sword even as it continues to slice through the air. Using the swing's momentum, he launches himself at the fleeing foe.

The lizard doesn't get to dodge twice. Their enemy is already dead but doesn't appear to understand this. Dai watched it happen and even he doesn't understand. A single second is not meant to contain so much. Before he could parse everything, there's a three-pronged kunai stuck in the enemy's throat.

The enemy falls with a spray of blood. Their new comrade doesn't stop to watch the body hit the ground. He's already pouncing on the next target. Now he's the one fighting back to back with the swordswoman. Well. Dai can't let them do all the work.

He moves to join these speedsters, but finds his legs sluggish beneath him. One step sends him crashing to the dirt. He tries to push himself up only to learn his arms resemble cooked noodles. Even twisting his head is a challenging endeavor.

Studying his limbs, he notes that his wrist is swollen. The skin is turning an alarming black around a set of bitemarks. Ah. So these lizards are venomous as well. How despicable.

Gritting his teeth, Dai sets his chin on the ground, keeping his head up to watch his comrades fight. They already notice his incapacitated state.

"Minato!" The swordswoman yells.

"I see it!" The blond man - that's right, his name is Minato. Dai met him and his brother on the road to Tanzaku-Gai. And his brother should be here with him, watching his back through this fearsome battle.

But Dai sees no one else apart from the swordswoman. Such a coward, that brother.

Unlike his twin, Minato throws himself into battle with a whirlwind of energy. It is quite literally a whirlwind of energy. Chakra spins in the palm of his hand as he charges in Dai's direction. He could hear movement behind him - a dastardly foe aiming for his disadvantaged state. Paralyzed as he is, Dai could do nothing but watch as Minato saves him.

But the strange, spinning ball of chakra explodes before it could land on the enemy. Its force pushes Minato away and sends Dai rolling right into the waiting claws of a lizard. He is hefted onto a bony, scaly shoulder as the enemy starts to race away from the battle.

The air splits open with a crack, the telltale noise of someone breaking the sound barrier. Lightning in the form of a dragon roars down on the escaping lizard. Something wet and sticky splashes across Dai's face. It's blood.

A dark shape hits the dirt with a dull thud. Between the lizard's legs, he sees a pair of sightless eyes staring out of a severed head. It's the lizard's head.

The world sways backwards as the corpse tips over, taking Dai with it. Before his face meets the ground, a sturdy arm pulls him up. Again, a second was sliced to microscopic pieces. Dai could not keep up. But now, time seems to slow down as he finds himself carried like a babe by the swordswoman. Stars twinkle through the little tufts of her tied up hair. With both eyes still shut, Dai could trace her eyelashes - long and blond, casting shadows over her rosy-hued cheeks.

Oh. He might be in love.

The swordswoman gently sets him against a tree. They have travelled far from the battle. Over her shoulder, Dai watches as Minato takes down two more lizards. She pats his arm with that rough and heavy hand of hers.

Sage help him. If his tongue could move, he would beg for her hand in marriage. But he can't even open his mouth.

Ah. It appears that the paralysis has gotten worse. Now that he's really paying attention, it's actually quite difficult to breathe. Oh dear. He might need a hiatus on his wedding plans.

"We will get you to a medic. Just hang on," she murmurs to him.

He tries in vain to nod. But his neck is so stiff. And she already turned around. Her broad back faces him as she slides into an unfamiliar stance, hissing out a slow, static-filled breath. Thankfully, he cannot blink - eyelids stuck open - so he can watch as she lunges forward in a dazzling streak of light.

She arrives at Minato's side, slicing off three heads on her way. Together, they eliminate the enemy around them, moving like a well-practiced waltz. Each strike flows together, following a melody only they could hear. Bodies fall around them like leaves in autumn. And this might be due to the significant air deprivation, but the whole fight reminds him of autumn. It's painted in the same color scheme of rusted-red, dirty-browns, and a few flashes of yellow in between. It's really quite beautiful in a way.

It's a shame that his vision is turning dark around the edges. That's probably not good.

"DAI-SAN!"

When he opens his eyes, the swordswoman is kneeling over him. Her eyes peer into his for the first time. She has lovely eyes with a warm color that reminds him of fertile soil and a steaming cup of tea. He lifts his hand - his whole arm shaking with the effort - and grabs hold of her sleeve.

"Dai-san, you're awake! Save your strength! The serum is a temporary cure. We need to get you -"

"... Marry me…"

Her jaw clicks shut. She snaps her head to the side. "Minato! What the fuck was in that serum?"

"Nothing hallucinogenic!" Minato kneels down next to her. "This might be another symptom of the venom."

"N… No…" Dai wheezes out. "I am in lo - love."

She looks back at him, folding her brow. "Okay. Wow. This feels a little weird."

"Now you know what it's like," Minato murmurs under his breath.

Dai tugs on her sleeve, squeezing until his knuckles turn white. "Yo - You're ssso -" He hacks out a cough. "- so beau - beautiful."

She blinks at him, mouth hanging slightly open. "Okay… Kinda creepy…"

Then she claps both hands over her cheeks as a flush spreads across her face. This unfortunately drops him from her hold. His skull thumps against the ground, hard enough to rattle his teeth. But that's forgivable. He still can't feel anything and her blush is adorable.

"But I'm kinda into it!" She squeals, before dissolving into delighted giggles.

Minato sighs. "You would be… Come on, let's get him actual medical care."

"Right, no, yeah! Totally!" She twirls a lock of her hair around a calloused finger, shyly grinning at him. "I'm sorry but we can't get married. I'm wearing a disguise, you see. I don't always look like this."

Dai jerks his shoulders in an attempt to shrug. "Th - That's fuh-ffine."

Her eye twitches. "I can never have children."

He stretches his mouth, trying to smile. "I - I have a - a ssson."

She frowns. "I'm a man, you know."

Dai manages to cough out an airless laugh. "Nn-no one iss - is perfeckt."

He hears Minato snicker somewhere off to the side. "Oh wow, he's so far gone."

"Just hurry up with your stupid teleportation technique," she-he barks at him.

"I'm going, I'm going… Should I leave a marker here? So we can bring back some of the bodies?"

His senses start to leave him. Shapes blur into a gray splotch. Sounds blend into a buzzing hum. Thoughts mix and merge into a knotted nothing. Before he loses everything completely, he hears a trembling hiccup from the swordswoman, who is actually a man.

"... but if these weren't demons, then what…"

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Ow! Fuck! Don't just dump me on the ground like that! My ass hurts!"

Chouza grimaces. Shikaku raises an eyebrow. Even Minato shoots a quick glance at him. But Zenitsu just rolls his eyes.

Inoichi could have slapped himself. "No, no, not like that!"

Shikaku crosses his arms. "Tch, would you tell us if it was?"

"Suuuuure," Inoichi grins. "In fifty or so years, after I'm done processing the trauma."

Shikaku gives him a flat look. Chouza sighs and shakes his head.

"It's a joke! We make those!" Inoichi scowls, throwing his hands up.

"Fellas, can we do our inappropriate coping mechanisms some other time?" Minato chimes in, disappearing with that infamous Hiraishin of his. He reappears before anyone has time to blink. "The angry guys are getting angrier."

"Now that's funny," Shikaku says, not laughing in the slightest. His frown actually gets worse.

"How is that -" A distant explosion cuts him off.

They all turn to look at it before eyeing Minato. He shrugs, offering a slanted grin.

"They just don't know when to quit," Shikaku sighs heavily, squatting down to sit on his heels.

"Why would they quit?" Chouza scoffs. "They have us pinned."

It's true. Sure, they've managed to take shelter in a newly vacated outpost. But really, it's more of a single room shack, with patchwork metal walls and a tin-sheet roof. And of course, by newly vacated, Inoichi meant that his teammates stormed in and killed everyone they saw. So now, they share the shack with the corpse of a dude wearing an earpiece. Great.

That's all they've managed to do and it's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. They got Iwa-nin riding their asses with another squad coming in to fuck 'em in the face. It's only a matter of time before these blockheads figure out where they're hiding.

"We're gonna diiiiieeee!" Zenitsu wails, sliding down to Shikaku's side. He curls into a tiny ball, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

If Inoichi had less dignity or self-respect, he would do the exact same thing.

"The only way out is through," Shikaku murmurs, more to himself.

"Agreed. We can give you a headstart," Minato says, clapping a hand on Zenitsu's shoulder. "Right?"

Zenitsu glares at his brother, more ready to shit himself, not charge into battle. "Do I look like -"

"See!" Minato shouts over him. "We got this! Just follow our lead."

This was all Inoichi's fault. Well, no. That's not true. Technically, this was the war's fault. He should really be blaming Iwa and all their motherfucking shinobi. But if any of his friends died here, he would take responsibility for it. He's self-aware enough to predict his toxic mentality, but definitely not wise enough to stop himself. He was trained in Torture and Interrogation techniques not Therapy and Improvement.

Sure, he would be stupid and wrong. But he's the stupid guy who ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's the idiot that got himself captured so his teammates and their backup had to come save his sorry ass. Now, they're kilometers behind enemy lines, surrounded on all sides, facing down a whole fucking fort of these freaks. He's no genius but he knows the math won't work out for them.

Despite the piss poor protests of his twin, the look in Minato's eyes says: fuck math. Five is greater than fifty. And he's got the formula to prove it.

Sage help them all, but Inoichi believes him. He's heard the crazy stories about the Namikaze twins. They've been blitzing enemy encampments since childhood. There's already a nickname being tossed around by the Iwa nin. Thunderclap and Flash, they call the two.

"Can't you just teleport all of us?" Shikaku asks.

Zenitsu grimaces. "Unless you want a surprise castration, I wouldn't go for it."

Minato sighs and shakes his head. "What my brother means is that I don't have the chakra to move all five of us."

"But you have enough chakra to fight a whole army?" Chouza tilts his head.

"With Zen-nii at my side, of course!" Minato grins, earnest and bright. He's only a year younger but Inoichi feels absolutely ancient compared to him.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Zenitsu whines. Around him, Inoichi always feels mature and collected. It's hard not to when watching Zenitsu wipe snot all over his face.

It's so crazy the way these twins inspire polar opposite reactions.

"Weeeeell, we do risk severe injury regardless," Minato rubs his chin. "Sorry to say most of our sage chakra got depleted when we broke Inoichi out of jail. But if we don't flee using the Hiraishin, if we choose to fight, we have a slightly higher chance of success."

"Because your brother is helping you," Shikaku finishes for him.

"Your brother has not agreed to this," Zenitsu adds, crossing his arms.

Minato folds his brows, jutting out his lower lip. Inoichi has seen the exact same expression on his younger cousins when they're pleading for more candy.

"C'mon, nii-chan! It will only take one jutsu!"

Inoichi blinks. He shares a look with Shikaku. One jutsu? They can't - They must be joking. For the sake of his sanity, they better be.

"What makes you think that I have enough chakra for one more jutsu?!?"

"Aside from my sensor skills, I know you. No one knows you better than me. Aaaand we've done this a hundred times!"

"In practice!"

"Boys, can we hurry this up?" Shikaku spits out, massaging his temples.

Minato turns to Zenitsu, offering a shy smile. Zenitsu rolls his eyes, groaning loud and clear. If the Iwa nin hadn't found them yet, they will now.

"Fiiiiiiiine… Like I had a choice."

"You really didn't." Minato turns to the Ino-Shika-Cho trio. "On my signal, you run. Straight north. Just keep running. Don't stop."

"What's the signal?" Chouza asks.

"A maelstrom." Minato grins, the cheeky little bastard. "You can't miss it."

Before anyone else could say anything, the earth shifts and shakes beneath them. A crack splits the floor of the outpost before the ground heaves up to high five them in the face. Chouza wraps an arm around Inoichi's torso, performing a quick shunshin to escape the collapsing shack.

When the dust settles, the twins stand shoulder to shoulder, facing the Iwa nin. Zenitsu almost shrinks away, knees knocking together and tears dripping down his chin. But then Minato offers his hand - palm facing up.

"Just like we practiced Zen-nii."

There's cracks and booms as Iwa launches several spears of stone at the twins. Zenitsu grabs hold of Minato's hand, threading their fingers together.

Inoichi has an intellectual understanding of adrenaline's side effects. He knows that the hormone can force the brain to process more things at a faster rate. As a result, under extreme duress, shinobi can note minute detail in every second. Inoichi learned all of this through textbook study and first hand accounts. Now, he experiences this adrenaline effect himself as he rests against Chouza, spectating the twins as they rock Iwa's world.

The change is subtle but no less remarkable. Zenitsu straightens his back. Minato lifts his chin. Something thick and heavy seems to settle on both their shoulders, as Zenitsu stops trembling and Minato plants his feet. They breathe in, deep and hard, air hissing through clenched teeth.

Sometimes, Inoichi wonders if the comrades of Shodaime and Nidaime knew that they were watching the backs of legends. He wonders if they feel the way he feels at this very moment, watching those twin silhouettes. Their golden hair - not pale yellow like his but pure and rare gold - flutter as the attack approaches.

With hands woven - Minato's left with Zenitsu's right, the twins speed through a set of hand seals. The spears were centimeters from connecting with the Namikaze's skulls, when they finish on the snake seal. Chakra blooms around them, pulling water from the air and knitting lightning into each droplet. The electrified stream twists into a dragon, rearing up high and roaring out loud. Then in the split second before their heads are cracked open, the dragon crashes into the spears, swallowing each one whole and shredding the stone to a fine mud.

The twins don't stop there. The dragon sweeps forward with its long serpentine body, exactly like a creature from myth, and opens its massive maw filled with fangs crafted out of jagged icicles. Another burst of chakra pushes out of the twins and the dragon spits out an inferno. Wind and flame merge in a sickle-shaped wave, cutting through hastily formed rock walls, roasting the ranks of Iwa nin.

"I do believe that is our signal," Chouza says flatly. Then he tosses Inoichi over one shoulder - ouch - and full on sprints away from the twins.

Shikaku lingers for a second longer, taking in the spectacle that is the Namikazes at work. Then he leaps after Chouza. Neither look back, except for Inoichi. He has no choice but to look back since his head is situated very close to Chouza's rump. And sure, they're best friends for life, but no one wants to get intimate with their bro's butthole. Poop comes outta there and he knows that none of them have showered in a week.

To avoid staring at Chouza's ass, Inoichi lifts his chin and witnesses the twins personifying storm gods as their jutsu devours a whole squadron of enemy nin. They seem larger than life even as his teammates run further and further away, shrinking them in his perspective. For a second, Inoichi worries that they're going too far too fast and the Namikazes will never catch up. Then right as the second ends, there's an ear-ringing clap of Thunder. Zenitsu appears next to Chouza, easily keeping pace even with his brother hanging off his back. Inoichi feels like a fool for fretting.

"That won't hold 'em," Shikaku points out.

Minato pushes off his brother, landing on his feet and matching their stride in a single, flowing move. "At least it will thin the numbers behind us."

"And that's still less chakra than it takes to perform a Hiraishin for all of us?" Chouza asks, because he's a big guy so there's actually enough room in his skull for a ginormous brain.

"Listen. The Hiraishin is effectively creating a pocket dimension through which I travel from one point to another. I am ripping a hole through our universe. I can transport myself and my brother to safety, but if I have to deal with foreign chakra systems that I'm not -"

"The answer is yes, Chouza-san," Zenitsu replies.

Minato clenches his jaw as a light flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat lightly. "We have incoming. Thirteen man strong."

"I hate this," Shikaku tells Zenitsu.

"Stop doing such a good job and they'll stop sending you out," Zenitsu tells Shikaku.

"How's that working out for you?"

"It's not. Minato keeps showing up. He's allergic to failure so we're doomed to succeed."

"Sorry, Zen-nii!" Minato calls out, holding out a hand towards his brother.

Zenitsu reaches over, cupping his left hand over Minato's right. A glowing sphere of spinning chakra forms in the space between their palms. It makes a high-pitched buzzing noise, loud enough to hurt. When the chakra sphere is the size of Chouza's fist, Minato launches himself at three Iwa nin that popped right out of the ground.

They never saw it coming.

Triple kill.

"Pfft! You are most certainly not sorry," Zenitsu says wryly, eyes trained ahead and away from the three fresh corpses.

Shikaku starts laughing and Inoichi thinks that he will never stop.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Hyuuga Hizashi was born under an unlucky star. He was born mere minutes younger than his brother, but it was enough to brand him as a branch member. He was obligated to work as a shinobi, leaving Hiashi with the cozy job of managing their clan's affairs. He has been conscripted to fight three wars now, shedding blood, sweat, and tears in trenches and swamps and caves. It's been a hard life - a horrible life.

That doesn't mean he's ready to give up.He refuses to die - not here, not like this, and definitely not with him.

"LET US GOOOOO!"

Namikaze Zenitsu sits on the cold, concrete floor with his wrists and ankles tied together. He resembles a wild hog, trussed up and ready for roasting. The ugly, blotchy-red of his cheeks only strengthens the resemblance. Even worse, his incessant screeching bounces off every surface of their cell, amplifying pitch and volume. Hizashi would tear off his ears if he could.

They've been stuck in captivity for hours. He only had Namikaze with him. They had been escorting Hiashi on his rare trips outside the village. Hizashi wasn't privy to the details because he's nothing more than a lowly branch member. But he does know that there's a few Hyuuga sites scattered throughout Fire country. They were heading in the general direction of one such site, well within their borders, so everyone considered the endeavor safe or at least relatively risk free. Hizashi chose not to have his Byakugan active and of course, his dear older brother would never demean himself by exerting effort.

But with luck like his, they got ambushed.

Kumo nin surrounded them. Namikaze screeched a split second before they stepped out of their cleverly crafted genjutsu. Hizashi managed to strike down three but they were greatly outnumbered, especially since he couldn't depend on Hiashi. So he told Namikaze to take his brother and run, which the boy did. The famed Namikaze speed was not merely a rumor and both vanished from his Byakugan's extended sight. Done with his duty as a branch member, Hizashi was fully prepared to meet his doom when the little blond idiot came running back.

The one saving grace is that his brother had been hidden somewhere safe, or so Namikaze told him. But now, here they were, bound and barricaded behind thick metal walls. The Kumo nin tampered with his Byakuugan somehow, slapping a paper seal over his eyes.

"Why did you come back?" Hizashi spits out.

Namikaze swallows his next screech, hiccuping a few times. "I - I couldn't - What? And leave you behind? We - They - So many just - I couldn't!"

"Perfect. Now Kumo has two hostages instead of one," Hizashi snarls.

"I didn't think that they would capture us! How was I supposed to know that?!"

That… That's fair, he supposes. They appeared wielding killing intent. Yet when Namikaze came crashing into the fight, their first move was to restrain Hizashi. They had wrestled him to the ground with a fistful of lightning just a finger span away from his throat. They then demanded that Namikaze disarm and drop to his knees, which the boy foolishly complied with.

The Kumo nin want something from them. Hizashi could take a wild guess. The cursed seal should prove their plans futile. But as for Zenitsu…

The blond idiot sits and sniffles at his side. He's no longer screaming loud enough to wake the dead. But he remains a pathetic sight - snot smeared on his shirt, cheeks rubbed blotchy red. He hasn't attempted to plot an escape or struggle out of his bindings. It begs the question of how did this sniveling creature reach the jounin rank?

Hizashi had gotten so excited to hear that a Namikaze twin would accompany him on this assignment. He had heard so many tales of their prowess throughout the war fronts. But his anticipation only met brutal disappointment. Within five minutes after their introduction, Namikaze asked if he had ever used his fancy eyes to see through women's clothing. Relations only went downhill from there.

"We wouldn't have been caught so flat-footed if you didn't insist on calling me a liar."

"There's just no way that a guy - who can see through walls - would ever pass up a chance to peep at the women's bathhouses."

"Oh enough! Your incessant squabbling brought us here! If you had acted in a more professional manner, we could have laid waste to our foes!!"

Namikaze flinches, pulling in his shoulders. But he says nothing to defend himself, as he shouldn't. From what Hizashi has seen and heard of his skills, Namikaze could have done a better job defending them. But every time his blade neared an enemy's throat, he adjusted his swing. What a sham of a shinobi.

Footsteps echo from beyond the door. Hizashi holds his breath, locking all his limbs. They tampered with his chakra so he forgoes activating his Byakugan and springing any painful traps. He settles for staring at the smooth, cement wall before him, idly wondering if this will be the last thing that he ever sees. Ah well… He was truly born under an unlucky star.

The door swings open with a piercing shriek. A Kumo nin steps out, tall and svelte. He doesn't resemble any of the shinobi that ambushed them.

"A Hyuuga and…" Their captor chuckles. "Namikaze Zenitsu…"

Hizashi notes that he was identified through his clan. But the Kumo nin could name Namikaze precisely. This isn't too unusual since only one of them had a Bingo book entry, and not just a single paragraph but a whole double page spread.

"Namikaze Zen~itsu... Haha, whoever named you sure had a sick sense of humor. Good at fleeing? You sure are."

"Ho-How do you know me? Are you some kinda stalker?!? That's creepy! Don't you know anything about personal boundaries?!?!"

This, from the guy preaching about peeping at women's bathhouses… The hypocrisy is unreal.

"Aw, you don't remember me? We met once... On the road, just like today... Sparks flew."

"Sorry. I only accept love confessions from women."

The Kumo nin shakes his head. "You're a funny, funny guy. But no. I was talking about your... What did you call it? Ah yes..."

Their captor slides into a familiar pose, shuts his eyes, and grins in a fully mocking manner.

"Thunder Breathing... First Form..."

He snaps his eyes open to leer at Namikaze.

"It's a quaint little trick. You sure fled from me, far and fast. But don't you know? Slow and steady wins the race, idiot."

He steps forward, standing over Namikaze's cowering form.

"You're weak. You only ever flee. You never stand and fight. Where's your pride? Your dignity?"

Hizashi watches as their captor swings his leg and kicks Namikaze across the cheek. His blond head cracks to the side, blood streaking out his split lip.

Namikaze wails. "OOOOOW"

"SHUT UP!" The Kumo nin pops a squat and grabs Namikaze's chin, fingernails digging into his jaw. He brings their faces closer together.

Namikaze's wailing trails off into a whimper. His eyes are blown wide open with pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Hizashi didn't need his Byakugan to know that the boy's pulse is racing past any healthy threshold.

"You succeeded that day," The Kumo nin continues, crooning low and soft. "Those stolen documents reached Konoha's walls. And I was demoted. Of course, of course. We can skip the details on all the ways I broke my back to regain my rank. But imagine my absolute surprise to meet you during a mission once more."

A second Kumo nin steps into the room. He brings with him a cart full of sharp medical implements. Hizashi could clearly identify the scalpel placed front and center. As shinobi, they could absolutely make chakra scalpels. But those are far less intimidating than the hard metal ones, especially when the polished edges shine under the dim light.

The first Kumo nin, presumably the captain, rises to his full height, and picks up the scalpel between his thumb and forefinger. Handling the tool with a delicacy befitting a glass ornament, he waves it in front of Hizashi's face. His grin widens, revealing pink gums lining bone white teeth.

"It must be my lucky day. But don't get me wrong. It's just business, Zenitsu. Nothing personal."

Hizashi refuses to flinch and stubbornly keeps his eyes open.

"If… If you were, you know, aiming for the Hyuuga clan, why did you um capture me too?" Namikaze stutters out.

"I'm so glad you asked." The Kumo nin taps the scalpel's point against Hizashi's temple. It draws a bead of blood. "Hyuuga doesn't need to stay alive for us to take his eyes. But… if you cooperate, he won't die."

Hizashi grits his teeth. It would work out better for everyone if he did die. Yes, he wants to survive. He isn't secretly suicidal… Alright, he could love life a little more, but his preferred cause of death would be more peaceful than whatever this Kumo nin has in mind. He would like to avoid excruciating pain, thank you very much.

Except, if he does die, the thrice-damned cursed seal will finally fulfill its purpose. Kumo won't get their hands on a Byakugan and they can't coerce Namikaze to do their malicious bidding. It's a win-win for them.

It's simply unfortunate that the cursed seal is a well kept clan secret and Namikaze has no idea of it. Hizashi could tell him but then Kumo would know. He could virtually endanger his family. He fancies himself a smart man but the future repercussions of revealing the seal's existence is beyond him.

Namikaze hiccups. "Wh-What do you want?"

The Kumo nin pulls the scalpel away from Hizashi's head. "We've witnessed that cute trick of yours plenty of times, and we tried replicating it. We are from the Land of Lightning. The Thunder Breathing sword form should naturally fit with our repertoire. Yet, we have not found any success."

"... You want me to teach you Thunder Breathing?" Namikaze asks, raising an eyebrow.

"In exchange, your comrade gets to live."

"Oooookaaaay, but I can't teach you when I'm all tied up."

"Figure it out. Or Hyuuga dies."

"That's just unreasonable!!"

The Kumo nin spins the scalpel between his fingers, narrowing his eyes.

Zenitsu squeaks. "Well but, I mean, you seem to already know the stance. So… Start there?"

The Kumo nin nods to his teammate. "Break one of Hyuuga's fingers."

"YOUR BREATHING IS ALL WRONG!" Zenitsu shrieks. "It's a breathing technique! If you don't breathe right, then it won't work! Listen, I am trying to teach you! No bullshit! If you untie me, I can teach you better!"

The Kumo nin hums, tapping his chin. Seconds drag into a minute with everyone watching him closely. Sweat forms on Namikaze's brow as he gnaws on his lips. Hizashi tests the wire binding his wrists and ends up cutting himself. Blood runs down his palms, but not nearly enough to slide off the wire. Then the Kumo nin clicks his tongue.

"Alright. Let's get you out of that rope."

"Wait, really?" Namikaze blinks at their captor.

"Well, keep in mind that your chakra is sealed. So if you try anything funny, I get the last laugh."

With that said, the Kumo nin swipes the scalpel, cutting Namikaze's bindings in a single stroke.

"Z, lock the door. Triple the guards. If anyone other than me walks out, open fire. We good?"

"Sir, yes sir." His subordinate performs a crisp salute before exiting backwards out the door. There's several heavy clangs as something thick bolts the door shut.

Tch. Kumo may be a filthy bloodline thief. But even Hizashi can admire the way they train their shinobi. Authority is accepted and orders are obeyed without a wise comment. Konoha nin are all smartasses with far too much individuality.

"I'm not too worried about it," the Kumo nin tells the newly freed Namikaze. "I know your score, Zen-Zen. You don't kill. Your signature technique could behead the average shinobi ten times in a second. But you only use it defensively. What a waste of potential. Really, it's practically a crime."

Namikaze shakily stands up, swaying slightly as he tries to find his balance. Hizashi can't see his eyes, hidden under that blond fringe. But he can taste a hint of ozone in the air, like the breeze before a storm.

"But don't you worry," the Kumo nin continues. "Once I learn the technique, then it will finally be used properly."

"Shut up," Namikaze hisses out.

Their captor tilts his head. "Ah?"

"You shut the fuck up. You know dog shit about my grandpa's technique."

"Your grandpa? Was he a coward like -"

A fist digs hard into his gut, cutting off his speech. The Kumo nin folds over, spittle flying, as air and blood is forcefully ejected out of his body. Hizashi may or may not have heard a rib snap.

"I said. Shut. Up."

If the chakra seal remains intact, then Namikaze displayed raw speed just then. Hizashi didn't even see him move. He hadn't known that was possible on a purely physical level.

The Kumo nin sneers and counters with a punch of his own. Namikaze catches it with his free hand only for the enemy to kick his feet from under him. He goes down with a hard thump, his skull banging against concrete, and the Kumo nin is immediately on him, raining down blow after blow on his head.

"You're useless! I've heard all about it!" He yells out, malice pinching his face. "You can barely do jutsu! And you always miss your killing blow! Most of your success is because of your brother! You're helpless without him!"

The Kumo nin plants one foot on the ground, grabs Namikaze's collar and bodily flings him away. He hits the wall like a limp rag doll before sliding to the floor. Hizashi is fairly sure that the boy is no longer conscious.

"Whoops…" The Kumo nin scratches his throat, not looking particularly concerned. "Guess Z better fetch the medic."

Hizashi grinds his teeth, biting back a few curses.

The Kumo nin smirks at him, offering a casual salute in his direction. "Can't have the teacher sleeping through his lesson, right?"

"Die in a fire," Hizashi spits out.

The Kumo nin chuckles quietly before turning around to face the shut door. He raises a fist, ready to knock.

"First of all..."

Namikaze appears right behind the Kumo nin, clamping one hand on the back of his head and smashing his face into the door. Hizashi whips around to the spot where Namikaze had laid unconscious. But there's only a few spots of blood where he used to be. Another loud bang drags Hizashi's attention back to where Namikaze now stands. The boy has fingers threaded through the Kumo nin's hair as he pulls him away from the door, forcibly turning his head so they can face each other.

"... I don't need chakra to beat your ass."

Stuck watching the petite span of Namikaze's back, Hizashi is unable to see the boy's expression. But it must be vulgar indeed because the Kumo nin spikes from reasonable anger to white hot rage. He slams his hands together, preparing a jutsu. Yet before he could form the first seal, a blur tears his hands apart.

Confused, the Kumo nin tries to form the hand seal again. And again, his hands are seperated. He snarls and makes a third attempt, which quickly ends in another failure. If Hizashi's eyes were any less keen, he would have not seen any of that. Quick hands appear to defy the rules of physics as Namikaze repeatedly thwarts the Kumo nin's technique thrice in the span of a single second.

"And secondly…" Namikaze continues.

Their enemy is not a simpleton. He lashes out with a front kick, hoping to place distance between himself and Namikaze. But his foot never lands as Namikaze sidesteps. Some sort of complicated maneuver is executed and the Kumo nin is tossed to the other side of the room. In a demonstration of his inhuman speed, Namikaze places himself right where the Kumo nin will land.

Namikaze catches their enemy in a grappling hold. There's a sickening crack as both of the Kumo nin's wrists are bent back. He screams loud and piercing, but the room must be soundproof because no one comes to help.

"...I never miss."

From his new position, Hizashi could now clearly see Namikaze's face. He chokes on his spit when he sees the boy's eyes are closed with blood dripping down his hair. Is Namikaze unconscious? No. That can't be possible.

When the Kumo nin slumps forward, his screams waning, Namikaze leans in to whisper directly into his ear. Thanks to the room's acoustics, Hizashi could hear everything.

"Your survival is not from my weakness. Your survival is from my mercy."

Their enemy croaks out an airless laugh. "That's the same thing, you fucking retard! Your mercy won't save you here! You're trapped and I have a whole squad ready to take you out!"

"Last but not the least," Namikaze tells him, speaking over his shouts. He keeps one hand on the Kumo nin's wrist, and raises his other hand up to his head. Pressing a palm over his brow, he gently wipes off the blood, then holds out his newly bloodstained hand.

Between the lines and scars of his palm, an all too infamous mark starts to take shape. As the last droplet of blood settles into the final stroke, there's a bright yellow flash.

"... I am always with my brother."

Namikaze Minato appears at Namikaze Zenitsu's side, holding onto his brother's outstretched hand.

Hizashi struggles to note everything that happens in the following seconds. And it may not have been seconds plural. The twins could have taken a solitary second to soundly defeat their enemy. When everything slows down to more mortal speeds, there's a new smoking crater cradling the fallen Kumo nin.

"Is… Is he dead…?" Hizashi wheezes out.

"Perhaps," the younger Namikaze answers, walking over to him. "His injuries are severe. If he doesn't receive appropriate medical care within the next few hours, he could die."

Hizashi frowns even as his binds are cut, releasing his limbs. He gets to his feet and turns to Namikaze - to Zenitsu.

"It may be mercy you speak of, but it would be the height of foolishness to offer mercy now. Unless you have ascended to godhood, you cannot afford such lenience."

The younger Namikaze folds his brow. "Zen-nii? What did I miss?"

With both eyes still shut, Zenitsu shakes his head. "Minato can teleport us out."

His brother maintains an inquisitive look but says nothing more as he places a hand on Hizashi's shoulder. This must be what a healthy twin relationship looks like - trusting and patient. Hizashi certainly would not have a clue.

After half a minute passes and they remain in the cell, Minato breathes out a groan and massages his forehead.

"No good. My chakra can't latch onto Hizashi-san. Something's wrong."

"Their handiwork, no doubt." Hizashi sighs. "It might be related to the seal on my chakra.

"Can you fix it?" Zenitsu asks.

"I'm going to need time," Minato replies.

Naturally, as the last word leaves his mouth, they hear a knock on the door. It seems that the Kumo nin had dutiful subordinates. It can't have been five minutes and they're already checking on him. Unfortunately for their captain, the Namikazes can do plenty of things in less than five minutes. Well… many things, except apparently unseal Hizashi's chakra.

"We don't have time," Hizashi says, emphasizing the obvious.

"And we can't afford mercy…" Zenitsu murmurs.

Minato frowns. "There must be another way."

Zenitsu offers Minato a smile, worn thin like a beloved blanket. "I should never have dragged you into this. I should have fought seriously from the beginning. There has only ever been one solution to all of this, but I…"

There's another knock on the door, harder now.

"You are the bravest man I know," Minato says, sounding almost angry.

Zenitsu bows his head, using silence as a reply. With both eyes closed, Hizashi could almost believe that Zenitsu had fallen asleep on his feet. But his clenched fists - white knuckles dotted with dried blood - betray his true state of mind.

The knocks turn into bangs, rapid and insistent.

"... Let's try nature chakra. Maybe it can overcome whatever the Kumo nin did to you," Minato goes on.

"I can't channel nature chakra," Hizashi points out. Konoha has a handful of sages and he is most definitely not one of them.

The Namikazes shouldn't be either. Bright and spry in their twenties, they still have the urgent energy of children, unused to their full grown bones. Yet they are capable of feats only masters twice their age can do - masters with decades of training. It's absurd really.

"Then stick close," Minato winks at him, somehow playful despite their dire circumstances. "We'll get you outta here."

Those blue eyes are potent tools because Hizashi can't find a shred of annoyance at such flippant behavior. If he blushes slightly, then at least the room is dimly lit and neither Namikaze can see it.

Not another sound has come from the door. It would be foolish to hope that they were forgotten. Quite possibly, their enemies have gathered outside, presuming the worst case scenario, and now they're ready to attack whoever leaves the room. Clever indeed, it forces them to fight on their terms.

But it does allow the Namikazes to finish their preparation. If the Kumo nin had been dealing with any other Konoha captive, no amount of prep would help. Of course, the Namikazes are a whole different class of shinobi - S class if Hizashi recalls correctly.

"Shall we, Zen-nii?" Minato's eyes have turned a startling shade of orange, with its pupils transformed into horizontal slits.

"We must…" Black cracks cover Zenitsu's cheeks and spread all the way to his ears, resembling scars left by lightning.

This must be the infamous sage mode.

Unable to help, Hizashi could only stand aside and bear witness as the Maelstrom Twins - Raijin and Fujin - the flee on sight Thunderclap and Flash get to work. They stand back to back, running through a long series of hand seals.

"Retsu!" They shout, extending one hand in front of them.

A fuinjutsu formula appears, surrounding the Namikazes and Hizashi. The circumference is connected through the twins' outstretched palms.

"Stay behind us," Zenitsu barks out. "And do your best to keep up. We won't move at our top speed but run at yours."

"This technique will last seven minutes maximum," Minato explains. "We need to get as far from here within that time."

Time is already ticking down. Hizashi bites his tongue, swallowing several questions whirling through his thoughts. The twins could decimate a fortress full of enemies, certainly. He is not half so skilled or even a fraction as fast. He must simply trust that they won't leave him behind.

Reflexively, his eyes dart toward Zenitsu. The older Namikaze seems like an entirely different person. There's no trace of that perverse boy from earlier. He moves as if steel is embedded in his spine, displaying a deadly grace born from polishing his specialty.

Hizashi would be dead if Zenitsu had not returned for him. He cannot bring himself to doubt him here and now.

Stepping in sync with his brother, the twins charge forward, kicking the thick metal door right off its hinges. Hizashi shadows their heels, even as the Kumo nin let loose an array of jutsus. But as a bolt of lightning crashes through the fuinjutsu formula, it immediately slows down, flying forward the same way honey drips off a spoon.

It's a surreal experience. Hizashi watches the Kumo nin attack, only for the technique to thwart each attempt. Kunai or shuriken, jutsu or fist, all of it begin to move at speeds that a tired snail could match. Dodging becomes ridiculously easy.

The fuinjutsu circle matches their pace as they dash through the Kiri nin ranks. It must require unfathomable amounts of concentration as the twins move at half their demonstrated speed. Somehow, Hizashi still struggles to keep up.

A few enemies get caught in the area of effect. Without flinching or hesitating, the twins eliminate them, exerting as little effort as possible. By the fifth fallen shinobi, the Kumo nin learn not to get too close, even as they continue to barrage them with jutsu and weaponry.

Just as they clear four minutes, Hizashi sees an exit up ahead. A heavy gate bars the way but it might as well not exist. At this point, he believes the twins could shred a mountain, much less anything man made.

Sure enough, the gate crumples like paper as they burst outside. Hizashi has never run this fast in his whole life. And they can't stop yet. They have three minutes to distance themselves from the Kumo nin, and they will need every second. Death remains imminent.

Hizashi allows himself a small smirk. Death will have to catch them first.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"For the record, I blame you for this."

Minato scowls. "Me?! How is this my fault?"

Zenitsu scoffs. "Clearly, if you hadn't knocked up Kushina, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"She wanted a baby!"

"You could have adopted!"

"Oh come on! You know how she feels about continuing the Uzumaki bloodline!"

"Yes, but you forget one very important thing!"

Minato squints at his brother. "... What?"

Zenitsu smirks at him. "Women are never at fault. They never do anything wrong their whole life."

Minato groans and rolls his eyes. "This. This is why you're single."

"Namikaze-sama," Kakashi spits out, frost lining each syllable. "Can we focus on the giant bijuu destroying our village? Thank you."

Zenitsu squeaks. Minato flinches.

"So scary, Kakashi-kun."

"But he's right."

Silhouetted by a full moon, the great Kyuubi no Kitsune roars into the night sky. All nine tails flare out behind it, cracking earth and splitting streams with each swipe. Bright red eyes - ravenous and raging - dart from side to side, hunting for anything foolish enough to stand in its way.

They better introduce themselves, then.

Minato turns to stare at his brother. He hasn't seen him in two years since he left for his intelligence gathering mission. Zen-nii has grown out his hair, letting it trail past his hips. And he's softer around the edges, partly from the weight gain but mostly from the lack of sorrow that used to hung over him like a shroud. He looks great.

It's a real shame that they had to meet again like this. But Minato can't deny the ember of warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of Zen-nii. At least, before the end, they could be together one last time.

"I've missed you, Zen-nii," Minato murmurs.

Zen-nii snorts. "Talk later. Rescue your wife now."

Then Zen-nii offers his hand. It's exactly like old times. It didn't matter if they were outnumbered or overpowered. With Zen-nii at his side, Minato always felt invincible.

He reaches over, his right hand grabbing hold of Zen-nii's left hand. Together, they sink into that nameless space between, pulling in chakra from the world around them. When they share their sage mode, they get twice the power for twice the length of time, but their senses fuse to a single seamless set. And so, Minato pulls his hitai-ite over his eyes, allowing Zen-nii's ears to guide them where they need to go.

"Senseis, can you hurry up?" Obito asks. "I can't believe I'm saying this but you need to be faster!"

Their hands pull apart and in the gap, a whirling sphere of chakra forms. Then there's a burst of heat as fire blooms from within the sphere, radiating outward like rays from the sun.

"Look out!" Kakashi yells.

An uprooted tree rushes through the air, heading straight for the twins. Neither react beyond raising the fiery sphere in front of them. When the longest branches brush the outermost ring of fire, all of it disintegrates into fine ash. Mirror-image grins decorate their mouths as they skip waiting for the tree to hit them and charge forward to hit the tree.

They don't stop there. Carving a burning path through the forest, they run straight for the towering Kyuubi no Kitsune, drawing its burning red gaze. They dodge and weave as it brings down tail after tail on their heads, terraforming the land around them. Enraged by their consistent escape from destruction, the Kyuubi unhinges its massive maw and a dense concentration of chakra forms between jagged fangs. The twins push relentlessly onward.

If anyone asks Kakashi and Obito about this night, they'll simply say that the sun rose at midnight. Chakra on chakra crash the way atoms collide, the way nuclei fuse, the way stars are born. Heat and light explode from the point of contact between the bijuudama and the Namikaze's technique. At the epicenter of it all, time stretches and twists, splicing a single second into a billion fragments.

Between each heartbeat, in the gaps between breaths - when their lungs are empty and their hearts are squeezed dry - that precise moment where the difference between life and death ceases to exist, they nearly lose. The bijuudama was poised to swallow them.

Then Zenitsu shouts. With his borrowed ears, Minato hears every word. He doesn't understand - not really, but it's enough to push him past his limit. Minato lets out a war cry. A second ring of fire erupts around the chakra sphere, tearing through the bijuudama.

In unison, they yell, "Rasenjitsu: Hekira no Ten (Spinning Sun: Clear Blue Sky)."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

Chapter Text

"What... What have you done..."

Minato stares at his hands as if he would find the answers hidden in the creases of his palms. 

"I had everything under control... The village was safe. The Kyuubi was secured. You - Naruto - Kakashi - Obito -" 

His breath comes out in faster, shorter gasps. His vision begins to shake as colors swirl into a single, incomprehensible slurry. 

"Everyone! You were all going to survive! I had everything exactly the way I wanted it! But you - you - you - my brother! How could you?!"

There's the sound of sandals shifting in the dirt. But Minato doesn't turn to look, keeping his head down even as his ears pick up a bone rattling sigh. 

"How could I do anything else?"

Again. Always. With this. He grinds his teeth, hands curling into white-knuckled fists. The bitter taste of blood coats his mouth as he bites his tongue. There's so much that he wants to say, but nothing that he hasn't already said before. Minato never stood a chance at stopping Zenitsu.

"I'm not sorry," his brother goes on.

He's never been sorry. He threw tantrums and ran away screaming and threatened treason several times. Yet, somehow, Minato was the idiot. Minato was the fool. Minato was the moron. And Zenitsu was never wrong.

"Of course," he spits out, finally lifting his head. He stares Zenitsu straight in the eyes. " Of course ."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Of course!" Jiraiya throws up his hands. "You would end up with complementary affinities! A perfect mirror of each other! I shouldn't be surprised!"

With war and a promotion on the horizon, Jiraiya decided to get his shit together and really teach these kids something. So he got some of that fancy, chakra paper for them to play with.

Kinoko's sheet crumbled into dust. As for Zenitsu, his sheet crumpled, sparks flickering out the edges. That was expected. Then the corners burst into flames barely the size of a candle-tip. That was not expected. 

Sure, eventually shinobi acquire a second affnity. But second or even third affinities are developed - honed - mastered, unlike the first which comes naturally to anyone. It's very rare for someone to have two - automatically, inherently - right at the start.

Of course then they learn that Minato has two affinities too. His sheet splits neatly in half, before damp spots cause the paper to droop. And so, the Terror Twins continue their trend of being absurdly gifted. 

"My wind could feed your fire, Zen-nii," Minato explains.

"Oooh." Zenitsu wrinkles his nose and folds his brow. "Wait, your water could put out my fire."

"Sure. Oooor my water could channel your lightning," Minato adds.

Zenitsu squints at him. "Aaaaand?"

Minato swallows a laugh. "Okay, okay. And my wind cuts through your lightning."

"What? But that doesn't make any sense!"

It's poetic, really. Working together, their elemental affinities combine into a devastating attack. Now if they fight each other, their elemental affinities would cancel out. They're literally a perfect match.

Jiraiya feels a distinct sense of dejá vu. He's been the odd one out. He's had insufferable geniuses for teammates. He's known the sting of third place in a three man team. 

But when he glances at his only clan-born student, Kinoko has one finger shoved up his nose. The kid is digging around there like he's searching for gold. He's not paying his teammates or his sensei any attention. 

Jiraiya's eye twitches. He smacks Kinoko's shoulder. "You don't get a free pass just because the twins are certified freaks."

"We're not freaks!" Minato and Zenitsu protest in unison. 

Jiraiya rolls his eyes. "You're basically made for each other. And yeah, sure, you're twins. But I don't see the Hyuuga bastards pulling half the stuff you do. It's on a whole other level."

Kinoko finally yanks his finger out of his nose. He takes a second to appreciate the size of his booger before flicking it directly at Zenitsu. 

Without even turning to his twin, Minato waves a hand and uses raw, elemental manipulation to blow away the incoming booger. It wouldn't have hit anyways because Zenitsu had dodged already, moving so fast that he left an after image.

Kinoko smirks. "Yep. Super freaky."

Zenitsu shrieks. " What the fuck was that ?!"

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"What the fuck was that!" Yoshino yells out, slamming both hands on the table.

Nerdy Namikaze sighs. Akimichi studies the menu. And Zen-teme sticks out his lower lip, looking like an Academy student caught cheating. Tsume laughs.

"What is wrong with you??" Yoshino goes on.

"Do you want the list in alphabetical or chronological order?" Kushina asks wryly.

They're at a BBQ restaurant because Team 7 won Jan-Ken-Po. Their senseis left them to turn in their mission reports. Tsume got an earful for her messy and incoherent writing. But who the fuck cares bitch! She's got no use for calligraphy. She ain't a seal master like Kushina. She specializes in partner techniques.

"That was badly done, Zen-nii…" Nerdy Namikaze shakes his head.

"But my hand really did slip!" Zen-teme protests.

"Oh sure, right as the waitress was passing by. And you definitely didn't get a good peek down her shirt when she bent over to pick up your cup. Really? Really?!" Yoshino looks a breath away from exploding. Her face is like super red.

"Wow, Yoshino-chan. Are you planning a career in T&I?" Zen-teme says, sweetening his tone.

Yoshino jabs a finger at him. "Don't try to weasel your way out of this."

Kushina cackles. Akimichi considers the Kobe Beef special. Nerdy Namikaze catches Tsume's eye as he turns to fully face her. 

Now, he's not really Tsume's type. (Also, she's a strict follower of the bro code. Kushina has unofficial dibs and Tsume's a bitch, not a hoe.) She likes tough guys, real rough and ready guys. Nerdy Namikaze was prettier than most girls in their Academy class. 

Buuuuut when he looks at her with those wide, blue eyes, weeeell…Okay, look. She's not made of stone, alright?

"How's Kuromaru?" 

So perfectly polite and thoughtful, it should make Tsume gag. Except her heart starts racing like a hare during a hunt. Fuck. 

"Yeah. The vets couldn't, you know, do much about his ear. But, like, you know…"

Nerdy Namikaze nods as if he understood. Pfft! Yeah, right. Even she didn't understand and she's the one talking.

"He did a good job out there. I've never seen techniques like yours before," he tells her.

"Ye- ah ?" Her voice breaks halfway through the word and she would like to die now. Thanks. Clearing her throat, she sits up and lifts her chin. "Yeah, course not. Our techniques are the Inuzuka specialty. Ain't no one doing it like us."

"That's certainly true. Almost all shinobis favor techniques with solo execution. But in my opinion, to rely on a partner is a wonderful thing." He glances at his brother.

Zen-teme looks like a kicked puppy. With snot dripping down his nose and tears clouding up his eyes, Tsume can't believe that this crybaby saved them yesterday. He'd been… There's gotta be a better way to describe him. Hmmmm. Nope. That's the only word she can think of. Uuuuugh. She hates to admit this but…

Zenitsu had been a straight out badass.

When everyone else was flailing around like headless chickens, Zen-teme got shit done. And not just him, Nerdy Namikaze put in work too. The way they moved together - attacked together - so perfectly in sync, it kinda reminds her of the Inuzuka techniques. 

"Do you think so?" Nerdy Namikaze blinks at her.

Ah crap. She said that out loud. "Something like it. Yeah. But unlike us, you don't gotta fuck with transformation stuff."

"Yes, well. My partner is already human shaped," he chuckles.

"So obviously, we can't be teaching you the clan jutsus." Tsume pauses abruptly. 

If Kuromaru was here, he'd be barking at her to quit while she was ahead. But he's stuck at the vet's and neither of them woulda made it home without the Namikazes. So fuck it. "Why don't you and the shameless wonder drop by the Inuzuka grounds? Me and my cousins can share some tips on duo techniques."

"Shameless wonder?" Zen-teme echoes, shifting away from Yoshino. "Who? Me?"

"Who else could that be?" Kushina snorts. 

"Hey! I have plenty of shame!"

"I'll see it when I believe it," Yoshino spits out.

Akimichi hums. "Well, there was that one time, when he…"

Zen-teme lunges over the table, slapping both hands over Akimichi's mouth.

"Oi! Let 'im talk!" Kushina yells, grinning like a vicious vixen. She jumps up, grabbing hold of Zen-teme's shoulders.

It turns into a three way wrestling match. Tsume's ready to join in but Nerdy Namikaze's smile stops her before she could move.

"We would be honored, of course," he says. "Clans typically don't like to share knowledge, so your offer is greatly appreciated."

Heat crawls up her neck, over her cheeks, and spreads through her head. She can feel her brain boiling. "Pssssh! Don't make this weird, ya nerd. It's just some tips! Do you not know anything about duo techniques?"

Nerdy Namikaze shakes his head. "No, not a lot. Tell me more."

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Tell me more, tell me more. Didja get very far?" Inoichi slings an arm around Minato's shoulders.

"What does that even mean?!" Minato wails, shrugging off Inoichi's arm.

"As if you don't know," Shikaku scoffs. "Zenitsu is your brother."

Zenitsu also told everyone about Minato scoring a second date with Uzumaki Kushina - the Uzumaki Kushina - the queen of all creatures wild and feral. Inoichi is equal parts impressed and horrified. He half wonders if Minato kept all his dangly bits or if Kushina ripped off some things.

"I'm disowning him," Minato states plainly, glaring at Zenitsu.

"What?? An older brother can't be proud of his itty bitty baby brother???" Zenitsu fires back.

"You know, I actually came up here to get some peace and quiet," Shikaku murmurs, breathing out a cloud of smoke. "Not to start gossip hour."

After a very long debrief session, Shikaku headed to a nearby roof. Inoichi followed Shikaku and the Namikazes followed both of them. Minato expressed some curiosity about their Ino-Shika-Cho techniques, specifically the ones where they more or less share their senses. But those were clan secrets so that's a big no-no. Unleeeeess, of course, the Namikazes had information of equal value to share.

Honestly, Inoichi should have asked about Minato's fancy Rasengan. Buuuut where's the fun in that? It's not everyday that he gets to see Mr. Golden Boy all flustered.

"Oh come on. Gossiping's for chicks. We're gathering intel." Inoichi plucks the blunt from Shikaku's fingers and takes a long drag. 

"About Kushina's tits or Minato's dick? 106.68 cm and 13.12 cm, by the way. Figure out which is which." Shikaku smirks.

Inoichi raises an eyebrow. Minato gasps, jaw hanging slack.

Zenitsu rubs his chin. "I see. I thought it was around 100 cm or so. Good to know."

"Zen-nii!" Minato whirls around, fury plain in his voice. "Wha - Why - Gross, Zen-nii!"

Inoichi hands the blunt back to Shikaku. "How do you know that? And more importantly, can it be verified?"

"We're a village full of Sharingans. Take a wild guess. And three Uchihas confirmed."

Minato turns to Shikaku, face bleached white. "Three?! We're a village full of perverts!"

Shikaku's smirk only grows. "Wait till you hear what the Hyuuga know."

Minato sticks out his lower lip, puffing out his cheeks. For a certified killing machine, Golden Boy is real cute. Both Namikaze twins are. Obviously, he can't take a shot at Minato. Buuut, his brother is notoriously single…

Inoichi slides a little closer to Zenitsu. The older Namikaze raises his eyebrow.

"Listen, we'll share some intel on our techniques…" Inoichi tells them.

"We will?" Shikaku echoes, squinting at him.

"… if Zen-Zen lets me know when he's free," Inoichi finishes with a wink.

Minato perks up. "Oh he's definitely free tonight."

Zenitsu quickly socks Minato's shoulder. "Hey! Don't answer for me!"

Minato winces but pastes on a grin. "If he goes out with you, will you explain some of your Ino-Shika-Cho moves?"

"You little shit! Are you pimping me out?? For technique tips?!" Zenitsu yells out.

"No!" Minato faces his brother. "Not for technique tips! But secret clan jutsus? Sure."

Zenitsu pinches Minato's nose. "Brat!"

"Ow! Zen-nii!"

Inoichi laughs, sliding close enough to wrap an arm around Zenitsu's hips. "Now, gimme some credit, Zen-Zen. I wouldn't give you just the tip. I'd give you the whole package."

Zenitsu gives him a piercing, sidelong glance. "7.3 cm, and that's the most generous."

Inoichi blinks. "Eh?"

"Your dick, according to the hottest goss -" Zenitsu places a finger over his lips, smirking.  "Oh, sorry, I meant ' intel '."

Inoichi tightens his smile, pulling away from Zenitsu and crossing his arms. "Slander and hearsay. I'm a respectable 10 cm." 

"Oh really? Kyoko-chan doesn't think so."

"That fucking -"

"Boys, boys, can we continue this dick waving contest some other time?" Shikaku cuts in, stubbing out his blunt. 

Inoichi glares at his troublesome teammate. "You just wanna take a nap."

"Yeah?" Shikaku sneers. "What about it?"

Inoichi scowls but keeps his mouth shut. He can run a thorough counter-intel campaign later. 

"If we can return to discussing jutsus," Minato suggests, subtle as a brick to the face. "We've worked with Akimichi techniques, but we don't know much about yours."

"What? Are you trying to steal our schtick?" Shikaku asks lightly, but his shoulders pull in as his back curves down. He resembles a stag about to charge.

"A lot of our team techniques rely heavily on Yamanaka jutsus," Inoichi adds. "Sensory relay, specifically, which only my clan can do."

He pauses, remembering rumors about the Namikaze's twin telepathy. It can't be real telepathy. Inoichi theorizes that as twins, spending their formative years together and staying close throughout their whole lives, they simply know each other best. They're familiar with their twin's thought patterns, habits, and unconscious tells. As such, they can predict their next moves or their current concerns, taking on the appearance of mind reading. 

But it's not real telepathy. If it was, Inoichi would see less strain between them. He suspects that their close relationship is more of a hindrance. It's human nature. When people know someone so well, they start making assumptions - drawing conclusions without confirming with the other person. As a psyche specialist, he can start to see the cracks forming in the Namikaze's bond. Such a shame.

Their partnership is unlike anything the village has seen. Not even the Shodaime and Nidaime were reported to fight so well together. There's something more to their synergy, something more innate - more profound perhaps. And Inoichi wants them to work things out. It's not just because they're adorable little fuckers. He can almost see the levels of legendary that these two can reach. They just need to - They just have to - 

"Meditate," he says after seconds of silence and staring into the distance. He turns to the twins with a confident nod. "You guys should meditate. Together. Tune into each other's chakra."

"That's it?!" Zenitsu erupts. "You get a date with me and all we get is shitty meditation advice?!?"

Inoichi whips around to look at Zenitsu. "Wait, were you actually gonna go out with me?"

Zenitsu lifts his chin, pointing his nose up with a prim sniff. "Only to verify the rumours."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Verify the rumours."

It's not an order, but Shibi was not born yesterday. His cousin is older and higher ranked than him. He can't not do as Shikuro says. 

"We didn't kill everyone. We could have. The Namikaze possess a prowess unmatched by anyone in their peer group. Yet we didn't kill everyone. Why? Namikaze Zenitsu could no longer stomach further bloodshed."

Shikuro hums. He wears the standard Aburame eye protection so Shibi cannot see his eyes. But his cousin keeps a permanently blank expression. Even if Shikuro left his face bare, Shibi would glean nothing of his thoughts or concerns. 

"You accomplished your mission as it was written," Shikuro murmurs. "Lord Third is pleased. Captain Danzo is… curious."

"Captain Danzo should interview the Namikazes directly," Shibi replies. 

Shikuro raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he doesn't appreciate Shibi's sass.

"As a matter of fact, he has," Shikuro tells him. "Captain Danzo aims to recruit Namikaze Minato.

Shibi frowns. "Namikaze Minato is thirteen."

"He is capable. Except as his records show, he mainly uses techniques that require a partner, specifically his twin."

"That is correct. You wish to know if Namikaze Minato can perform equally on his own. Why?" Shibi pauses here, his kikaichu buzzing beneath his skin. "You do not intend to recruit Namikaze Zenitsu. By your standards, he is weak."

Shikuro says nothing and Shibi cannot stop himself. He does not wish to.

"You would be wrong. Why? Your standards are not comprehensive enough. Namikaze Zenitsu is strong, in ways you have not accounted for. As such, the twins work best together. You must not separate them."

"Your opinion has been noted," Shikuro states flatly. "However, you presume too much. Why? Because we will not forcibly separate them."

Shibi's kikaichu slowly settle down as he evaluates Shikuro's words. If there is a hidden meaning, he cannot identify it. So he asks plainly, "What do you mean?"

"We are simply providing Namikaze Minato with an opportunity. Why? As they say, give people enough rope and they will hang themselves. The twins will separate voluntarily, after enough time."

Shibi has never heard of anything more foolish in his entire life. Static envelops his thoughts as he forgets proper decorum entirely. 

"You will lose more than you will gain. Namikaze Minato is a fine shinobi. The village has plenty of fine shinobi. The twins can be something greater than that."

Silence follows his speech. If Shibi was the arrogant type, then he would believe that their discussion has ended. Fortunately, he keeps a level head and he knows his cousin. Shikuro is analyzing - strategizing - forming a perfect response to cut through Shibi's statement.

Seconds pass. Shikuro adjusts his goggles. "You have strong opinions regarding the Namikazes. Why? They saved your life. Such sentiment blinds you. Namikaze Zenitsu is clearly unfit for shinobi work. He does not execute his enemies. He disregards the success of a mission. He would sooner try treason than forfeit his values."

Shibi folds his brow. "That is a heavy accusation." Yet it is not inaccurate. He had witnessed this behavior first hand. 

"It is supported by several sources," Shikuro crosses his arms, "including a statement from Namikaze Minato."

If his cousin had less self-restraint, he would display a smug expression. Of course, unlike Shibi, he maintains a detached facade. 

"He would denounce his twin?" Shibi murmurs, unable to restrain his shock.

Shikuro shakes his head. "No. Captain Danzo displayed an interest in Namikaze Zenitsu. Despite the multiple accounts to corroborate his misconduct, the Captain believes that he can guide him to his full potential. Namikaze Minato heavily opposed this."

"But to imply treason?" Shibi asks. "That goes too far! Why?"

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

" WHY? Why would you do that?!?" Zenitsu spits out. "You were gonna die, Minato. Was I supposed to thank you?!?"

Minato hisses out a breath. "Look. I know that I've never done anything right by you. But everyone was going to die. I had to do something!"

Zenitsu flinches, reeling back. "What?"

"I don't see the world like you, nii-san. This was the only answer I know!" Minato bows his head and collapses, knees hitting the ground. "And at least this way, maybe, you can finally be happy."

There's silence. The field is empty except for them. Kushina and Naruto were transported to the hospital by Kakashi and Obito. They're good boys, those two. They were adamantly against leaving behind Minato and Zenitsu. But after... after everything that just happened, neither of them needed medical attention more than they needed this. 

Minato doesn't even know what this is. Here they are, alone together, surrounded on all sides by ash and ruin. Zenitsu is mad. Minato is... Well, Minato was mad, equally or maybe even more so than his brother. But right now, he can feel nothing past exhaustion. Those last words scraped him empty, leaving his bones hollow and his veins dry. 

Or maybe he's feeling the consequences of a phenomenally fucked up Death Reaper Seal. 

"Are you serious?" Zenitsu wheezes out.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? You have immense potential," Minato-sensei says firmly. "I can see it in your eyes."

Obito frowns. "But I haven't activated my Sharingan. I might not even have it."

Sensei shakes his head, clapping Obito's shoulder. "I'm not referring to your Sharingan. You remind me of the strongest person I know."

"I do?"

"Yes. He's a cowardly crybaby barely capable of mastering the simplest techniques."

Obito twists his face into the meanest scowl he can make. "Thanks, sensei. Great pep talk. I'm super inspired now."

Minato-sensei laughs, moving his hand to muss up Obito's hair. "He was a deadlast like you."

"And he's the strongest person you know?" Obito raises an eyebrow. "You need to get out more, sensei. I mean, they got bingo nights down at the precinct. I'm sure you could stop by."

Minato-sensei sighs. "I'm talking about my older brother."

Obito's eyes nearly pop outta his skull. "No freaking way! You're talking about Konoha's famous Thunderclap? The one and only partner of the Yellow Flash?! Your twin brother?!?"

"Yes. You remind me of him." 

"HOW?!?!"

"Well, apart from all the things I mentioned, you carry a kind heart."

Obito folds his brow. "Isn't that a bad thing? Bakashi would say so."

"Kakashi is very smart - enough to know many things, but not enough to know there's still plenty left to learn." Minato-sensei's smile shrinks. "To keep a kind heart, especially in our line of work, I can't imagine a more difficult task. I, myself, failed to do so."

"What are you talking about, sensei? You're like the nicest guy I know!"

"That's flattering, Obito-kun. But there's a difference between being nice and being kind. It's another thing that you will learn. Just as you will learn to succeed where I could not."

Obito's eyes start to water. Damn it! He's not crying! He just forgot his stupid eyedrops again. That's all. Using the back of his sleeves, he wipes away the completely normal, biological reaction, which definitely isn't tears in any way.

"You… You really think so?"

Minato kneels down until he can look Obito straight in the eye. "And in my opinion, there's nothing wrong with crying."

Obito frowns. "But you never cry, sensei. Neither does Bakashi."

"Well, Rin cries. Should she stop?"

"No! She can cry if she wants to! But she's not like me."

"Oh?"

Obito bows his head, fixing his gaze on the ground. "She's not a disappointment. She's got nothing to prove."

There's silence from Minato-sensei. Obito drags in a deep breath and coughs out a strangled sob. Something wet slides down his cheek, then another, and another, as something sticky drips out his nose. And yeah. Okay. He's definitely, absolutely crying.

Strong arms - warm and solid - wrap around him, pulling him close. Obito's head is pressed right over Minato-sensei's chest. He could hear the steady beat of a full grown heart.

"I can think of no greater honor than to have you as my student, Uchiha Obito," Minato-sensei tells him, hard and fierce like the ending of an argument. 

Obito reaches up, clinging tightly to his sensei, smearing his gross face all over the pristine jounin vest. He really is just a big sad crybaby - no better than a snot-nosed Academy brat. But maybe, just this once, it's not so bad. It might even feel a little bit nice.

"You'll be a legend. Just like my brother," Minato-sensei murmurs. "Alright?"

Obito's breath sticks to his throat. He holds on tighter. "Yes, sensei."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Yes, sensei ."

Kakashi smirks. "You don't need to call me sensei, Dead Last Zen-Zen."

Zenitsu's hand shoots forward, pinching his cheek. Shit. Kakashi couldn't dodge fast enough. 

"That's enough outta you, slowpoke."

"Slowpoke?!"

Zenitsu smirks at him. "If you're such a genius, why can't you block these hands? Hmmm??"

"You're a freak of nature, obviously!"

Zenitsu pinches harder. Kakashi refuses to show any sign of pain. They glare at each other. This goes on for exactly one minute and thirty seven seconds. Then Zenitsu sighs and lets him go. Pffftt. Pathetic.

"You're not my first choice for a student. But Minato wants us to get along better. And so…" Zenitsu throws a bokuto at him. "Do 100 swings."

Kakashi automatically catches the training weapon. Tch. His reflexes are too good. He didn't even want to learn from this total idiot. So looking him straight in the eyes, he drops the bokuto on the ground with a pointed thump.

Zenitsu doesn't shout or flail or show any signs of distress. He simply crosses his arms, wearing a stupidly smug impression.

"Oh, I see."

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. "See what?"

"You can't learn my techniques. It's too difficult."

"Ha?"

"It's okay. Minato couldn't learn my techniques either. So you never had a chance."

It's a completely transparent trick. Kakashi should know better than to fall for it. But even the vague idea of failure causes his teeth to itch. 

"Your techniques are so simple, even a brain dead rat could do it."

"And yet you can't."

Kakashi clenches his jaw and kicks up the bokuto. Catching it in his hand, he points the wooden blade at Zenitsu. "100 swings? How about 500? I won't even break a sweat."

"Sure, kid." Zenitsu shrugs. 

"I'll master your stupid Thunder Breathing by the end of this week - no, in three days - no, on my first try!"

Zenitsu laughs. "Okaaaay, if you so."

"Then everyone will see my mastery of it, and forget all about you."

There's an ear-cracking boom. Two hands clamp down on Kakashi's shoulders. Zenitsu is much, much closer than he had been before. There used to be 13.79 meters between them. Now, barely 10.6 centimeters separate their faces. Zenitsu wears no smile, not a hint of humor, as he leans down - nose to nose with Kakashi.

"You will learn my techniques on one condition. This is not negotiable. There are no exceptions. Am I clear, Hatake Kakashi?"

The acid scent of ozone fills the air. All the hair on Kakashi's body, from the strands on his head to the fine hairs on his arm, stand straight up. It's a visceral reminder that Namikaze Zenitsu tamed thunder a long time ago. Lightning comes at his call. And Kakashi may have fucked up. Just a bit.

Zenitsu takes his silence as passive agreement, and he continues to speak. "Thunder Breathing must never be used to kill or maim or attack another in any way."

Kakashi blinks. "What."

Zenitsu maintains a steadfast stoic expression. "You must swear to follow this rule, or this training session stops."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Kakashi blurts out. "What use is a technique that you can't attack people with?"

"You can use it to save someone's life. You can use it to save your life. You can use it to run away. You're a genius. You can think of something."

"And what's stopping me from breaking your stupid rule?" As he speaks the last word, Kakashi inwardly winces. Everyone knows that he strictly follows rules and obeys orders. If he starts breaking rules whenever convenient for him… No. He can't. He won't. 

Zenitsu knows this. Kakashi grits his teeth, maintaining eye contact as he waits for him to point that out.

Snorting loudly, Zenitsu pulls away from Kakashi. He places both hands on his hips, a grin returning to his face. Here it comes.

"I trust you."

There - wait. What.

"What," Kakashi says for the second time in less than five minutes. "You're fucking with me."

"Nope. I'm dead serious," Zenitsu tells him even as he continues to grin. 

"You hate me."

Zenitsu rolls his eyes. "I don't hate you. Honestly, how are prodigies so stupid?"

"Hey!"

"You're annoying, sure. But…" Zenitsu's grin softens in the corners. "You remind me of my brother."

"Minato-sensei?"

"How come you're polite with him but not with me?" Zenitsu whines. "Whatever. Yeah. You're just like him. Scary smart. Confident. Dependable. And a good kid."

He pauses, reaching forward to run a hand through Kakashi's hair. 

"You'll get it done right." 

That time, Zenitsu had moved slow enough for Kakashi to block him. Except something had kept Kakashi from doing that. If he thought about it real hard, he would know the exact reason. But for once, he doesn't want to know the answer. He simply stands there, staring blankly at the man before him. 

Here stood a living legend. Here stood one of Konoha's elite shinobi. Here stood… 

"You absolute buffoon," he spits out, pulling off the hand on his head.

Zenitsu's eye twitches. "Call me sensei, you disrespectful brat!"

Kakashi clicks his tongue and turns away. He's fully clothed, and he's even wearing a mask, but he feels naked somehow. There's a weight like lead rattling around where his heart should be. Worst of all, he can feel the tips of his ears burning. And Zenitsu could definitely see that.

He hears a soft chuckle behind him. He ignores it as he starts swinging his bokuto. He promised 500 so he better get started. 

They train through the afternoon into the early evening. Kakashi doesn't master the breathing technique on his first try or his second. But by the third day, he manages to do it once. At the week's end, he could perform it with ease. Kakashi expected Zenitsu to act bitter. He doesn't. He offers only a faintly exasperated expression as he shakes his head.

Months go by. Kakashi is promoted to jounin. His team gets sent to the frontlines on a sabotage mission. Nothing goes as planned.

Stuck in a cave, in the enemy's grasp, Kakashi remembers that moment when Zenitsu taught him the first steps to Thunder Breathing. He had learned it mostly to satisfy his ego, showing off to Minato-sensei that he can do anything they throw at him.

But he did respect Zenitsu's wish to never ever use the technique offensively. So, after mastering the move, he never really used it. He lived a very offensive life after all. Except now, cornered and out of chakra, Kakashi feels the ground shake, smells the earth in the air, and knows the roof will cave in. He needs to get out fast - fast - fast .

"Thunder Breathing does not require chakra. All you have to do is concentrate."

Kakashi takes a step back. The world slows down around him. He sucks in air until his lungs are ready to burst. Then he bends his right knee as he slides his left foot behind him. He breathes out, air hissing and crackling like static.

"Thunder Breathing, First Form."

He ropes one arm around Obito then his other arm around Rin. Dust rains on them. Rocks fall.

"Thunderclap and Flash!"

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Thunderclap and Flash! Godlike Speed!"

Minato had nearly completed the hand signs for the Death Reaper Seal, when he heard the all too familiar roar of thunder. Within fractions of a second, his back hits the dirt, forcing out all the air from his lungs, as his twin - his beloved buffoon of an older brother - tackles him from the front. His hands are seized in a vein-strangling hold as Zenitsu pins him down.

Behind them, the Kyuubi no Kitsune writhes as Kushina screams, high and strained.

"Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare !!"

"Let me go! The village! Kushina! Naruto !!!"

"Then let me help! Let me help, you stupid self-sacrificing idiot!"

"What?! I - What? Why?? How?!?"

"The way we always do these things - together. "

Minato heaves in a breath, struggling to string thoughts in any way close to coherent. He has to - Zenitsu's leg! Bijuu - Kushina's dying! Will of Fire - Where's Naruto? No time! 

For once in his life, Minato cannot think fast enough. He locks eyes with Zenitsu and a hot, bubbling froth of rage surges from the deepest, darkest parts of him. 

"You can't ! I won't let you!"

"Then everyone dies. Do you hear me? This village will burn ! You and I will lie here and listen to them scream !"

"No! Get off me!" Minato thrashes, bucking his hips and twisting his torso. "You're always, always getting in my way! You ruin everything! You spoiled, selfish, delusional idiot!"

Zenitsu only tightens his grip. "I don't care! I don't care!! I don't care !!! I'm not letting go!"

Tears, salty and stinging, roll down Minato's face. He squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at his brother. They're out of time. He's out of options. A sob erupts from his mouth, as Kushina releases another spine-tingling shriek.

His left hand bends forward, as far as he can bend it. Fingers brush against Zenitsu's knuckles. His brother slides his grip, weaving their hands together. And it's like every other duo jutsu they've done. He guides Zenitsu to form the other half of each sign.

Serpent. Boar. Ram. Hare. Dog. Rat. Bird. Horse. Serpent.

They clap their hands together, loud enough to echo even through all the chaos.

His chakra begins to burn him from the inside out. He clenches his jaw, hard enough to crack a few molars. With the last gasp of breath in his throat, he yells out.

"Fuinjutsu: Shiki Fujin!"

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Once upon a time, in a village hidden by leaves, there lived a pair of twins. They loved each other with every fiber of their being. The older twin swore to protect the younger twin. The younger twin wished to free the older twin. It was as simple as that.

⚡⚡⚡

"You're going to die!" Minato spits out. "Because of me! It's my fault! I killed you!"

His legs collapse from under him. His knees hit the ground. His back curves down and in.

"I don't understand…" Zenitsu whispers. "Why would - How could you think that?"

Minato says nothing.

"I forced you. I stopped you. It was me."

Minato shakes his head.

"I'm the fuck up."

"No."

"I could have been the best shinobi, and you could've had -"

"No, stop it."

"- a brother that you were proud of. Or I could have been the worst shinobi, and you -"

"That's enough."

"- could've had a brother that protected you. But I couldn't be -"

"I said stop!"

"- either. And you ended up with a disappointment for a brother that couldn't protect you."

"SHUT UP!"

Minato pounds a fist on the dirt. He snaps his head up, barely seeing Zenitsu through the thick film of tears.

"I'm tired of your guilt! You're not the problem! I am! I can't -  I just - I'm always hurting you! I don't know how to st-op…" His voice breaks on the last syllable. He swallows a sob as he drags in another mouthful of air. "I'm sorry. I… I am."

He receives silence for a response. 

A cold wind carries the black scent of smoke. The Kyuubi no Kitsune managed to destroy significant portions of the village. Surely, buildings are burning even now. Minato must return to the Hokage's office. He has to ensure the security of their borders. No. That's not it. He must head for the hospital. He has to examine the strength of their modified seal.

There's so much to do. Minato should stand up - activate Hiraishin - get to work. But his body fails to move. Muscles twitch and spasm. Bones creak and grind. He falls forward, losing against gravity. Before he kisses the ground, a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. 

"You're going to die," Zen-nii murmurs. "My little brother thought that his death would make me happy. What does that say about me?"

Minato can't stop his eyes from sliding shut. He can only lie limp in Zen-nii's embrace.

"You're right. It is your fault. You and your bullshit jutsu. But our problems started way earlier."

Minato manages to move his jaw. "Yeah…"

"You're worth more than a noble death. I don't want a tombstone for a twin. Okay?"

"Okay." 

Scraping together the last dregs of his strength, Minato breathes in and forces his eyes to open. The bruised face of Zen-nii greets him. 

"You had another life in a very different world. And whatever I do, I can't match the people you knew back there."

"I never wanted that."

"Then what did you want?"

"To protect you."

"I never needed that."

"Oh sure, because happy and healthy people kill themselves. That was my biggest fear. You're so kind. You're always helping people. And this world would use you like a matchstick. One strike and poof! You would burn and you wouldn't complain." 

Minato snorts. "You can't take responsibility for my choices. Not yours. Mine. You already mess up a lot. You don't need my mistakes."

Zen-nii twists his mouth into a patchwork grin. "Yeah. You're right. Of course, you're right. As expected of a fucking prodigy."

"That's me…" Minato wheezes out. Tilting his head back, he allows his eyes to close completely. "That other world had demons and heroes… Here, only shinobi… Were you happy when I became Hokage?"

"... Your goals were bigger than mine. You wanted to save this world. And I always knew that one day, you would do something I couldn't."

Minato croaks out a laugh. "I wasn't trying to save the world, not really. I just wanted a world where you could be happy."

"Dumbass," Zen-nii spits out with a hiccup. "And you were gonna die tonight. You were gonna abandon all your responsibilities, break all your promises, and… And you were gonna leave me."

"... You left first."

Zen-nii pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads together. "I did. I'm sorry. I was scared."

"Of me?"

"I didn't want to disappoint you."

With a trembling arm, with rubber muscles and clay bones, Minato lifts his hand, forms a fist, and drops it right on Zen-nii's skull.

"Never. Not once. Stop being stupid."

If Zen-nii says something back, Minato doesn't hear it. The last strand of his strength snaps. Everything fades away.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

CONFIDENTIAL

Medical Summary: File#09211999 

Dated: 10/11/XXXX

At 3:08 a.m., Lord Third and his ANBU squad returned Uzumaki Minato and Namikaze Zenitsu to the village. Both were found unconscious and in critical condition. Namikaze broke one of his legs. Both retained significant damage to their chakra coils. However, both patients were alive, and they would live. Io-sensei did note a strange mark found on their palms - on Namikaze's left hand and Uzumaki's right hand. 

Lord Jiraiya would later identify it as two halves of the Hakke Fuuin. The same seal would be found on baby Uzumaki Naruto's belly. 

Uzumaki Kushina regains consciousness on the day after the attack. Despite her extensive internal injuries, plus the physical trauma of childbirth, she wakes up before her husband and brother-in-law. Her statement, corroborated with Lord Jiraiya's assessment, confirms the confinement of the Kyuubi no Kitsune. Its Yin half resides in her. Its Yang half resides in her son. She could not provide an explanation for this.

CLASSIFIED 

S++ SECURITY CLEARANCE LEVEL

Uzumaki Minato, the Fourth Hokage of Konoha, and senior Jonin Namikaze Zenitsu performed the forbidden Death Reaper Seal. It is a solo technique which Uzumaki and Namikaze executed in unison. As a result, the cost was split, circumventing the fatality of this technique.

However, according to Lord Orochimaru, the Death Reaper Seal severely shortened the lifespans of Uzumaki and Namikaze. Additional effects remain unknown. Continuous medical supervision is required.

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⚡⚡⚡

"Jiraiya-sensei left to find Lady Tsunade."

Minato stands on a rooftop, overseeing the restoration efforts. By his side, right where he should be, Zen-nii chuckles softly.

"And if she doesn't come back, Kushina-chan is coming after her with a baseball bat."

Minato sighs. "She would."

Below them, Kakashi and Obito argue over the right placement of cement blocks. The boys are repairing one of the precinct's walls. But they're moving their mouths more than they're moving their hands. Minato could see Captain Fugaku heading towards them, likely with a lecture on the tip of his tongue.

As one of the founding clans, the Uchiha primarily owned properties around the center of the village. In any other circumstance, this would be ideal. But when the Kyuubi attacked, they were hit the hardest. Too many homes destroyed. Too many lives lost.

A near month has passed since that devastating night. Just this morning, Minato and Zen-nii were discharged from the hospital. They immediately headed for the center of the village, mostly because Minato needed to see the damage for himself. Kakashi and Obito were conscripted as bodyguards and escorts. But once they arrived at the repair sites, Obito couldn't stop himself from pitching in.

They really do need all the help they can get. The village center remains a mess, including all the Uchiha residences, businesses, and offices. Sometimes, they find bodies buried in the rubble, already dead. 

Minato wants to jump down and offer his assistance. But the looming spectre of his furious wife and his disappointed doctor keeps him in place. He can't just do as he pleases, not anymore, not with his latest medical prognosis.

"They won't want a cripple for a Hokage." 

Minato's words should've been lost beneath all the carpentry, and masonry, and assorted construction noises. But of course, Zen-nii didn't miss a sound. 

"Yeah. So? They don't get a choice. You could kick all their asses, even as a cripple."

"But should I stay as Hokage?"

"Duh. Listen. The seal is degrading our bodies slowly - I repeat, slowly - over time. Just spend the next decade training your successor, scaring the Elders shitless, and you'll be fine."

"Yes, except -"

"Minato!" 

Zen-nii grabs his shoulder and spins him around. Now, they stand face to face, enabling Minato to see the full force of Zen-nii's glare.

"There is literally - I mean literally no one better for the job. So suck it up."

Minato chokes back a laugh. "You? Advocating for hard work? You? Mr. I'm-Allergic-To-Training? Who are you and what have you done with Zen-"

"ZENITSU!"

A loud call cuts through Minato's reply. It came from below, so he leans over the roof's edge and looks down. He finds a young Uchiha boy waving at them. The boy appears to be eight years of age, with reddish-brown curls. Notably, there is a scar on the right half of his forehead. 

Minato does not recognize this boy. He turns to Zen-nii, ready to ask a few questions. But the instant he sees his older brother, the words die in his throat.

With a face drained of color, with both eyes wide open, with shoulders locked and a hanging jaw, Zen-nii looks like he's seen a ghost.

"IT IS YOU!" The Uchiha boy cheerfully shouts. "It's me! Don't you remember? It's -"

" Tanjiro."

=WIP=>

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Chapter Text

Uchiha Shiruba was born six hours after Uchiha Shisui. He had red-tinted hair, unlike the blue-tinted hair of his fellow clansmen. And notably, he had a strange birthmark on his forehead. It resembled a burn scar. Despite these oddities, his parents eagerly showered him and his older twin with lots of love.

On his second birthday, Shiruba asked everyone to call him Tanjiro. His parents simply smiled, nodded, and continued to call him Shiruba. But his older brother, easy-going Shisui-nii laughed and agreed to call him by his new name. 

The twins had a normal Uchiha childhood. They played with their agemates. They helped around the house. They ate well, slept often, and grabbed hold of everything within reach. Except they were born on the eve of another great war. So when they reached four years of age, both were sent to the Academy, beginning their career as Konoha shinobi. Shisui-nii quickly proved his prodigious skills. But Tanjiro...

"My name is Kamado - Oh no, wait - My name is Uchiwa - Sorry, Uchiha Tanjiro -"

"On your file, your name is written as Uchiha Shiruba." Sensei frowns.

"Does this dumbass not know his own name?" Someone from the back yells out.

It doesn't get any better from there.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Wake up, stupid! I said, WAKE UP!" 

"Ow! You freakin' banshee! Quit yellin' in my ear!"

"I wouldn't have to yell if you woke up on time!"

There's a loud thud. Minato looks up, watching dust and paint flake off the ceiling. On the floor above him, the noise grows louder and louder, resembling a herd of elephants on a rampage. He idly toys with the idea of intervening, but... 

It's a Monday. lf there's one thing he learned from his ongoing tenure as Hokage, it would be to pick his battles.

With a fond sigh, Minato pushes away from the table, rolling his wheelchair over to the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He prepped some breakfast for the kids but at the rate they're going, they're likely to grab slices of toast and eat on the go. 

Well, that's alright. Obito vacuums up any spare food they have, and he should be stopping by soon. With him around, Minato never has to worry about leftovers spoiling, that's for sure.

As if on cue, the front door opens, and a cheerful voice calls out, "Morning, sensei!"

"Morning, Obito-kun!" Minato replies, pouring out a second cup.

Upstairs, the noise stops.

Obito strolls into the kitchen, tall and broad as a tree in its prime. He wears a grin on his mouth and heavy bags under his eye. As the Military Police PR agent and the Hokage's official successor, he stays busy all hours of the day. As for his unofficial work, well… There's really no room in his schedule for something so time consuming as sleep.

Minato frowns, biting his tongue. They just had an argument over this. They don't need a repeat of that any time soon. The kids are already on edge. Breathing in slowly, he hands Obito the other cup of coffee.

"The house isn't burnt to a crisp!" Obito laughs, taking the drink. "I just lost 500 ryo."

"You were betting on the house burning down?"

"Not specifically, just some sort of 'cataclysmic disaster that would destroy at least 75% of the structure'," Obito recites.

Minato squints at him. "So it couldn't be a wall or a window."

"According to Shikaku? No."

"I figured as much. Please don't tell me that's the reason you taught Naruto the Fireball jutsu."

"No, Sensei. Of course not. I would never."

Minato smirks into his coffee. "You've been practicing your... ah... diplomacy skills, I see."

They hear a crash from upstairs, quickly followed by an offended shriek. Feet thunder down the stairs with all the subtlety and stealth of a stampede. Such behavior is unsuitable for shinobi - especially aspiring shinobi - and yet…

"Hold onto your ryo," Minato mutters, sticking his cup in the sink. "There's still time for the house to burn down."

"Dad!" "Uncle!"

A riot of red and yellow bursts into the kitchen.

"Karin ruined my jacket!"

"Naruto's lying! It was already like that!"

Minato shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kids…"

At the precocious age of twelve turning thirteen, both shout, "We're not kids!"

Obito snorts. "Since when?"

Naruto, all 146 cm of him, puffs up. "Since we graduated from the Academy!"

"Precisely," Karin flips her hair, standing a proud 150 cm and never lets Naruto forget this.

"Yes… You certainly passed the Academy's final exams… But you're not genin yet."

Naruto blinks, scrunching up his nose. "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout?"

Karin claps her hands. "Oh! Duh! We haven't gotten our headbands yet. Or added ourselves to the genin registry."

Naruto smacks his forehead. "That's right!"

Minato and Obito share a look.

"Hey, Dad!" Naruto bounces closer to him. "You're coming to the graduation ceremony, right?"

Minato reaches over and runs a hand through his son's hair. "Kiddo, I'm officiating the ceremony."

Naruto chuckles sheepishly, scratching his chek.

Behind him, Karin rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Hmph, idiot." 

Naruto twists to face her. "Shaddup, four-eyes!"

"Scarface!"

"Ogre!"

"Loser!"

"Alright, you limited time kids," Obito cuts in. "Better head out before you end up late."

"Like you always are?" Naruto asks, sounding sweeter than a stick of dango.

Obito shoves him forward. "Cheeky brat."

Naruto cackles as he stumbles away and out the kitchen. His orange jacket trails behind him, like a personal banner. Minato couldn't see anything wrong with it, but he hadn't looked too closely. 

Glancing over at Karin, he rolls up to her as she turns to leave. She pauses in the doorway, watching him curiously. He grins and pats her gently on the head.

"The weather's nice today," he tells her. "Why don't we go to the Academy together?"

A flush sweeps up her neck to the tips of her ears. "Tch, yeah. I mean, whatever." She pulls away from his hand. "Don't mess up my hair."

She flees the kitchen. Minato restrains a laugh as he spins to face Obito.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" Obito grins, taking a seat on the counter, ignoring all the empty chairs nearby. 

This is typical behavior for him, and he appears perfectly at ease. Except, there's evident signs of exhaustion, from the folded line of his spine to the curve of his sagging shoulders.

Minato frowns. "You spent the night in your office again. Obito-kun, there's really no need to push yourself that far."

Obito waves a dismissive hand. "Please, sensei. I just finished a few forms and reviewed some petitions. Nothing major."

"I may use a wheelchair but my hands and eyes work perfectly."

"Oh sure. But that's not the way you work. One stack of paperwork turns into a draft proposal turns into a committee meeting turns into budget negotiations at the capitol. And we can't have you missing the graduation ceremony." 

Obito pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he lets out a weary sigh.

"You and I both know that some days, you can barely move a finger. Which sucks, I get it."

"You don't," Minato spits out, surprising himself.

To his credit, Obito doesn't flinch. He meets Minato's gaze straight on. "Yeah. You're right. I don't. But there's no point in pretending."

Biting his tongue, Minato looks away, staring at the wall behind Obito.

The kitchen clock ticks off every passing second. Overhead, Naruto and Karin bang open drawers and slam shut closets. Today is for them. Minato can't let anything ruin their big day. He breathes out, relaxing his jaw.

"... I'm not completely useless."

"Nope. Not even a little bit."

"And I'm still the Hokage."

"You are."

Minato manages to look back at Obito. "I would never miss the graduation ceremony." 

Obito nods slowly. "... Yeah, that wasn't fair of me to say. I just…"

His student is now fully grown. He cries less. He speaks carefully. He keeps a level head. Minato can see all the ways Obito has changed. But some things stay the same, especially his honest and earnest desire to help. 

"I'm not dead yet. And I don't plan on dying a day before this Seal finishes the job. I'm sorry to worry you, Obito."

"I wasn't worried," His student fires back, slugging down the last dregs of coffee, and notably breaking eye contact.

Minato smiles. "Sure. Now, get off the counter and let me pat your head."

"Sensei! I'm too old for that!"

"Never."

Scowling, Obito gets off the counter, allowing Minato to pat his head many times.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

For various reasons, Tanjiro wasn't an admirer of the shinobi profession. He would prefer a more civilian employment, like selling charcoal or working at a bakery. Predictably, his new clan did not "indulge" his "nonsensical whims" and he was advised to - ordered to - stay in the Academy. 

But no one could force him to do well in class. So he happily skipped his lessons and failed his tests. The old Tanjiro could have never done such a thing. His big brother pride could never stomach slacking off or giving less than his best. Except, in this life, he was reborn as the second son, and now, his twin takes on the trial and tribulations of the eldest child.

Unlike him, Shisui-nii quickly demonstrated prodigious prowess and the instructors nominated him for an early graduation. With the Third Shinobi War raging on, the village needed all hands on deck. Shisui-nii's skills were in high demand and together with his new genin team, they were quickly sent to the field. Tanjiro felt torn between pride for Shisui-nii's accomplishments and grief for Shisui-nii's short childhood.

Of course, Tanjiro could easily graduate early. No Academy student could match his combat expertise, and most instructors could learn a few things from him. He had a half a mind to follow Shisui-nii into battle, even if the very idea revolted him. But then, a few days after Shisui-nii left…

His new Dad - his Uchiha father - returned from the frontlines with only one leg. 

The war was getting worse. His Mom and Shisui-nii were needed out there. Only Tanjiro could stay behind and take care of Dad. Alright. Not a problem.

Tanjiro chose to drop out of the Academy altogether. The clan couldn't object this time since Dad needed round the clock care. The leg was not severed cleanly and Dad suffered from a terrible infection. If the fever didn't cause awful hallucinations, then his battle fatigue triggered fits of panic. If Tanjiro was truly seven years old, it would have been a hard time for everybody. Luckily for both of them, he had enough experience to get by.

Shisui-nii sent letters. He filled pages with questions about him, their Dad, and the village in general. Tanjiro does his best to comfort his brother. He puts together packages of handmade rations to send alongside his replies. He shares tall tales, scandalous gossip, and any other random thing that comes to mind. In the same way Shisui-nii rarely writes about the war, Tanjiro doesn't talk about their Dad's violent tantrums, or the stench of despair filling the streets. And he definitely doesn't tell Shisui-nii that he dropped out of the Academy. 

Some days, Tanjiro can't help but think that he already failed as a little brother. He should've tried harder to keep Shisui-nii close. If his brother hadn't worked so hard, if no one knew the true extent of his skills, he would have stayed in the village with him. 

Of course, that's a ridiculous thought. Tanjiro is fully aware of this. Shisui-nii was deadset on doing the most. Tanjiro tried to slow him down, but convincing him to relax was like convincing the sun to rise at night. 

Somewhere, in the great beyond, Nezuko must be laughing at him.

=WIP=>

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⚡⚡⚡

"Rival!"

Nothing.

"Rival!!"

Nada.

"RIVAL!!!"

Not a sound.

"... stepbrother..."

The latest copy of "The Agatsuma Chronicles" snaps shut.

"Okay, first." Kakashi holds up one finger. "Zenitsu is not my Dad. And second, he's not married to your Dad. So, we -" Kakashi points to himself then at Gai then back to himself. "- are not stepbrothers."

Gai grins at him, giving him a thumbs up. "And yet, you only respond when I call you that! We must be stepbrothers in spirit!"

Kakashi's sole eye twitches. He turns to the snickering audience. "Stop encouraging him!"

Genma and Asuma collapse into full blown laughter, leaning against each other to stay standing. Hayate and Kurenai manage to maintain their composure, but they cannot hide the smiles splitting their faces. Yugao simply shrugs, without a hint of remorse. 

"Whatever works, works," she tells him. 

On any other day, Kakashi could appreciate her straightforward speech. But right now, she was pissing him off.

"So… Did you actually want something? Or did you figure that I needed a dose of idiocy today?"

"Guh! Such a hip attitude!" Gai gasps, bending over as if someone stabbed him in the guts.

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that," Genma replies, waving a dismissive hand.

"It may be hard to believe, but we actually want to hang out with you," Asuma says, grinning around the cigarette stuck between his teeth. "These days, you're always out of the village."

"Did you f-" Kurenai abruptly closes her mouth with a loud click of her teeth. Pink dusts her cheeks, easily visible thanks to her pale skin. 

Kakashi could pretty much guess her question. And sure, she stopped herself from fully asking. But the mere attempt serves as a black and bitter reminder. There's a scathing retort on the tip of his tongue. Then he remembers that Kurenai and Rin were close friends once upon a time. 

In his head, he can hear a shrill, squeaky voice telling him to "treat women tenderly". Sage above. Even when they're nowhere near each other, Kakashi gets a lecture from Zenitsu.

His nose catches the pungent odor of fresh sweat and worn leather. It's the telltale sign of stress. Then, he notes the way Hayate and Genma avoid looking at him. He traces the rigid line of Asuma's back and he watches Gai shift from foot to foot. He doesn't miss Yugao taking a step forward, partially hiding Kurenai behind her.

He stayed silent for too long. Great.

Kakashi takes a page out of Zenitsu's book - not literally, of course. He got the collector's edition and he will die to keep the pages pristine. Fortunately, he gained more than a personally autographed copy from his time with Zenitsu. Unfortunately, he mostly gained experience in lying, deflecting, and when all else fails, running the fuck away. 

"Right, so." Slouching slightly, Kakashi spins on his heel and slowly starts walking down the road. "Thanks for treating us to lunch, Asuma."

There's a blank pause behind him. He counts down from three - two - one -

"Wait, what?"

A collection of footsteps scurry after him.

"Well, I can never turn down free food."

"Hell yeah! Lunch on Asuma!"

"When did I say that?!?"

Kakashi pastes on his best bullshitter's smile and looks over his shoulder. "You wanted to hang out with me."

"What - But - Huh?!"

"Oh come on, don't be stingy. You're a little rich boy. Your wallet can take a hit."

"There's that new yakitori place. It's a fusion of Konoha and Kumo cuisine."

"I heard about that! I've wanted to check it out."

"Let's goooo!"

"Guys!?! Wait! Hold up! I didn't -"

Facing forward, Kakashi softly breathes out a sigh. All his practice in the fine art of distraction finally paid off. Of course, unlike the hordes of angry husbands, this crowd was more than willing to be distracted. 

It's for the best.

He's not ready to talk about Rin, yet. Maybe he never will be.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

When Tanjiro turns eight, the war finally ends. Slowly, shinobi returned to the village, including Shisui-nii and Mom. Things started to change but not exactly for the better. 

Mom couldn't stand staying at home. She spent her days on the training grounds or at the bar. Within a week of her return, she took a mission and left the village. 

Shisui-nii came back with a broken heart. His best friend died during the last days of the war. He tried to hide his grief, putting on his best big brother smile, but the scent of fresh tears clung to him every morning. 

And Dad... He was lucid for longer periods of time. But he was always in an awful mood. A miasma of bitter, stinging shame sticks to his skin. He picks fights with everyone - Mom, Shisui-nii, and Tanjiro - mostly Tanjiro. He hated him for dropping out of the Academy and disgracing the Uchiha name.

For Tanjiro, this was all very new and very different. He never had less than loving parents. He never had to worry about the family name or saving face. The Kamados were nobodies, living far from society and modern conveniences. Now, there was a tangled knot of politics surrounding his new clan, and indoor plumbing. Really, a flushable toilet is quite nice, one of the few good things in his second life.

Then somehow, things got worse. One night, Dad and Mom got into an explosive argument. Mom just came home after a long night at the bar. Dad was adjusting to the new dosage of his painkillers. Their shouts shook the walls and rattled the ceiling. Tanjiro attempted to stop them but Shisui-nii held him back, held him close. The rancid odor of fear and sorrow enveloped his brother, even as he pasted on a sweet smile. So with a pulsing ache beneath his ribs, Tanjiro hangs onto his brother, hoping his skinny arms can keep him from falling apart.

Mom never comes back.

=WIP=>

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⚡⚡⚡

On paper, the Uchiha Military Police headquarters sits on the outskirts of Konoha, right next to the prison. In practice, several police stations are scattered throughout the village, and after the Kyuubi attack, the downtown precinct was rebuilt bigger than before. All the actual work gets done there, within walking distance from the Hokage tower, at the center of Konoha.

Of course, the expanded police infrastructure met a lot of criticism and scrutiny. Other clans were wary of the Uchiha abusing their power. To smooth over any concerns, the clan desperately needed a cool, cunning, and charismatic public relations officer.

"What up, boys in blue? I am here to P in your R!"

They ended up with Uchiha Obito.

Fugaku massages his temple, barely resisting the urge to slam his face on the desk.

"What does that even mean?" Izumi asks from her place by the door. Technically, she's not the receptionist. But technically, she's not not the receptionist.

Recent surveys observed that voluntary visitors preferred a friendly face to greet them. Of course, involuntary visitors a.k.a recent arrests receive the standard resting Uchiha face.

Obito gives no explanation, simply winks at his cousin, before swanning away.

At the end of the day, it was all about politics. Evil-Eyed Fugaku was a decorated war veteran and a well-respected clan head. With his long list of accolades, he easily qualified for the position of Fourth Hokage. Except, his supporters were primarily his kinsmen. He received little endorsement from the rest of the village.

To be fair, he wasn't a very public figure. He does his job. He goes home. He has no patience for glad-handing or other promotional nonsense. As someone (Zenitsu) once said, he had a face perfect for radio. And unfortunately, the title of Hokage is not bestowed based on merit alone.

Now, his second (possibly third) cousin, Uchiha Obito is decidedly different in numerous ways. Namely, he smiles… A lot. He's filled with a relentless (annoying) cheer which some (many) found endearing or approachable. 

Obviously, Fugaku didn't award him the newly instated position of public relations officer because of something as ephemeral as charm. No. Obito received that role because of his connections. A student of Konoha's Yellow Flash and current Fourth Hokage, he was perfectly positioned to become Lord Fifth.

Fugaku has no doubt that Obito is fully aware of his precarious position. He is the clan's strongest tie to the village, and likewise he is the village's strongest tie to the clan. It requires a constant and consistent balancing act.

Obito copes in a way only Obito can.

"BBQ at E5," he tells Fugaku, taking a seat on the desk because of course, he does.

There's a pair of perfectly good chairs in front of the desk. Both chairs are clearly empty, unlike the desk, which was covered by paperwork, pens, and other office implements. If Obito took a proper seat, he would avoid disrupting Fugaku's meticulous organization. 

But given the option, Obito will always choose to be disruptive. So he plants himself on the desk, scattering pens and papers everywhere.

A vein in Fugaku's temple twitches. "I'm not a codebreaker. So speak plainly or get out."

Obito rolls his only eye. "Barbecue at the East Fifth precinct."

"And so?"

"Soooo, you should show up. We invited the whole neighborhood."

"This fails to explain the importance of my presence. As many have pointed out, I am not the life of any party."

Obito chuckles. "And you're absolutely fine with that, I'm sure."

Fugaku clenches his jaw and pounds a fist on the desk. "I have no time for your nonsense! Give me a good reason not to cancel your pitiful excuse for drunken revelry!"

Obito hops to his feet, spins to face Fugaku, and plants both hands on the desk. "We can't hole up in the clan compound, then turn around and accuse the village of pushing us away." 

"So we make fools of ourselves for their entertainment? Is that truly our only recourse?"

"It's a fucking barbecue! And maybe that's not your idea of fun because you're deathly allergic to the idea of levity! But if we don't do the good things together, how can we hope to stay together for the bad things?"

Obito stares directly into Fugaku's eyes. For an Uchiha, this goes beyond issuing a challenge. Their prized doujutsu allows them to fight on a metaphysical plane, dealing out psychic and emotional damage. As such, prolonged eye contact was equivalent to a fistfight, with bruised knuckles and bleeding mouths. 

Presently, no actual damage has been dealt (yet). They haven't activated their Sharingan (yet). But the challenge was real and if he flinches - if he looks away - he loses. 

As silence stretches taut and thick between them, Fugaku analyzes the man in front of him. Obito had grown out of boyhood a long time ago. He now stands just a hair taller than Fugaku, and markedly more muscular. He carries a quiet confidence that suits a Hokage-candidate. And yet, Fugaku holds onto his doubts, primarily because of the eyepatch glaring right at him. 

Uchiha Obito willingly gave away his left eye - the prized Sharingan - to someone outside the clan. That can never be forgiven or forgotten.

A soft knock pulls their attention away from each other.

Fugaku frowns at his office door. "Enter."

"Father." Itachi walks in, carrying a bento box. "Please excuse the interruption."

At the age of seventeen, his eldest son is a full fledged jounin. He earned the rank at a remarkable age of fourteen, advancing faster than his father, yet slower than anticipated. His skills were worthy of a promotion when he was ten. But the boy opted to remain a chunin for years. Fugaku blames all the bad influences present in the boy's life, especially…

"Oh hey! Wassup, cuz?" Obito grins, turning to fully face Itachi.

… especially their present company.

His son offers a polite smile. "It's good to see you, Obi-nii. You look well."

"I look like shit and you know it," Obito cackles.

Itachi ruefully shakes his head before shifting his gaze. "Father, you forgot your lunch."

"Aa. You can leave it there." Fugaku nods at a nearby file cabinet.

Itachi sets down the bento. "It's getting late. Will you manage to arrive at the graduation on time?"

Fugaku blinks. "Graduation?"

Obito snorts. "Of course, he doesn't know."

Itachi gives Fugaku an impressively unimpressed look. "Sasuke is graduating from the Academy today. He requested your presence at the ceremony. You agreed to come."

"I did? When?"

"Last night. At dinner."

"I don't remember this."

Obito barks out a laugh. "Of course, he wouldn't."

"Don't have somewhere else to be?" Fugaku snaps at him.

Obito spins on his heel, winking at him as he walks backwards. "BBQ with East's finest. If you're not gonna attend the graduation ceremony, then at least party with Sasuke there."

Fugaku frowns. "I refuse to involve my sons in your pointless spectacles. The village doesn't need to like us. They only have to respect us."

"Yessir!" Obito claps Itachi's shoulder on his way out the door. "Dad of the year, am I right?"

With that parting shot, the Uchiha's designated Public Relations officer successfully damages the clan's private relationships. Fugaku squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, keenly aware of Itachi's burning gaze.

"Unlike some people, I have work to do."

Itachi nods his head. "Then I shall disturb you no further, Father."

Without another word, Itachi exits the office. The door clicks shut. Fugaku drops onto his chair, staring at the disorganized desk before him. The silence is somehow more damning than any spoken (or shouted) criticism.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

Despite his difficulties at home, Tanjiro loves the Uchiha clan. He's never been part of a clan before. His Kamado parents didn't have siblings, or at least none that survived for him to meet. So he didn't have uncles and aunts, big cousins and baby cousins. He can depend on them to keep him company whenever Shisui-nii leaves for a mission.

The uncles tell stories that never made sense. The aunties pinch his face and slide hard candies into his pockets. His cousins teach him tricks and secrets, which usually end with all of them in a lot of trouble. It's very different from the kind of family he's used to. Five younger siblings are nothing compared to a full sized clan. There's more of everything. There's more arguments. There's more laughter. There's more mouths to feed. 

But there's not enough hands to work.

The war left hungry ghosts. Many of the younger generation died, leaving behind elderly kin or infant orphans. Their frail and feeble bodies left them no way to earn a living. They survived on scraps spared from the clan funds.

Tanjiro's situation was barely better.

Nowadays, they only get money through Shisui-nii. Dad's veteran payout gets delayed for so long that some months, they don't get a single coin. Mom doesn't send back anything - not even a word. Maybe Shisui-nii knows where she went but he doesn't tell anyone. That's okay. Tanjiro hopes that she's happier wherever she is.

They can survive without her, maybe not grandly but they can manage on Shisui-nii's income. He gets genin pay, which isn't a lot. So Tanjiro thinks about finding a job somewhere in the village. Except there's no place hiring. The war just ended. Everyone's scraping the bottom of the barrel. And civilians receive less resources than shinobi.

If Tanjiro really wanted to earn money, there's only one place that's offering any. Shisui-nii doesn't like it the way he doesn't like getting hand-me-down clothes and leftover meals from their clansmen. On one hand, Tanjiro appreciates any kindness given. On the other hand, his smile stings when he accepts their charity.

If Nezuko was around, maybe she would feel the same way. Or maybe she would rake him over the coals for putting on airs. Or maybe - most likely - she would tell him to stop thinking about her opinions and focus on the life in front of him. Yeah. That sounds about right.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"And what of the Hyuuga heir? Which team shall suit her best?" 

Iruka hums, crossing his arms. The semester has finally ended. But for him and his fellow instructors, there's more work to finish. This leaves them stuck in their shared office, overanalyzing their observations on the latest graduating class.

Ultimately, Lord Hokage finalizes the team arrangements. But the Academy instructors submit a preliminary assessment and recommendation. They have the most insight on the genin candidates, so in theory, they should know the best team for each one.

Some arrangements are already set, like the newest generation of Ino-Shika-Cho. But all the rest are scattered puzzle pieces. Iruka can follow some of the tried and true templates, like pairing the Rookie of the Year with the dead last and the highest scoring kunoichi. But with this class, the Rookie of the Year and the highest scoring kunoichi was the same genin candidate. 

"We could place her with Uzumaki Karin." Iruka shuffles through the files on his desk, pulling out two folders. 

On one cover, there's a photo of a fierce red-head glaring at the camera. On the other cover, there's a photo of a dark-haired girl with a serene smile and a pair of pale moon eyes. His co-worker studies both carefully, a hard frown on her lips.

Uzumaki Karin was tied with Haruno Sakura for the second highest scoring kunoichi.

"Then we can place Haruno Sakura with Uchiha Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto," Iruka continues, pulling out folders for the referenced graduates.

Uchiha Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto were notorious rivals throughout their academic career. And yet, despite their tempestuous relationship, the boys had complementary strengths. Where Naruto thrives on instinct and improvisation, Sasuke excels in strategy and investigation. But both disastrously lack common sense, which Sakura can provide with ease.

They would make a good team.

But heaven help any jounin assigned to them.

"Now, we just have to deal with the three-way tie for dead last," Iruka sighs, unable to stifle a tired grin.

Shikamaru, Chouji, Kiba, and Naruto routinely skipped his classes to cause havoc somewhere else in the village. But just to piss off Sasuke, Naruto saved his grades by cramming a ridiculous amount of studying at the very last minute. To his credit, their final scores were very close, with Sasuke pulling ahead by only two points.

That left Shikamaru, Chouji, and Kiba as the dead last of the class. Obviously, Shikamaru and Chouji are already on a fixed team. So Kiba would have to fill the role of dead last paired with the Rookie of the Year. 

It's a neat arrangement, all things considered. He works well with both girls, plus his tracking skills compliment the Hyuuga's byakugan and the Uzumaki's adamantine chains. They could grow into an excellent capture and contain team. 

But Iruka stares at the three remaining genin candidates. In class, they were often overshadowed by their louder, rambunctious peers. They might enjoy the company of similarly soft-spoken teammates. And that's the issue. Comfort tends to be the antithesis of growth.

"Is something wrong?" His co-worker asks.

Without saying a word, Iruka begins to rearrange the files, completing four sets of three man teams. He looks up at his co-worker. She studies his work. After a half minute of consideration, she gives him an approving nod.

"Yes. That could work."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Please don't become a shinobi."

Tanjiro turns to the shadow haunting his bedroom window. He faintly smells rot and infection, which somehow seems familiar.

"Tanjiro."

Rolling his eyes, he sits up and faces his visitor properly. "Calm down."

This too is familiar. He's spoken those words far too many times to count, and to the same person that he's speaking with right now. He picks up a whiff of amusement and he's sure somewhere under the shadows, there's a sheepish smile.

"It's a hard life."

"I know. But I like hard work."

"Not this kind of work. It's…"

"I understand. I do. But I can't not become a shinobi. My dad-"

A sharp scent pierces the air, as putrid and potent as freshly spilled blood. "No. I will talk to him. He -"

"That is enough," Tanjiro whispers. 

The shadow flinches. Tanjiro can't see the eyes of his visitor, but he can sense a heavy gaze studying him. After a few, far too long seconds, the shadow settles down, shrinking into a tight shape against his window sill.

"I can protect myself. So please. Trust me."

"You can. But this world is cruel. It doesn't deserve a kind soul like yours."

"Mercy wouldn't be mercy if it was only given to those who deserve it. Sometimes, people should have nice things, even if they've done nothing to earn it. Maybe that's how they get better."

The shadow groans. "How can you just say stuff like that? You're stressing me out!"

The clouds shift across the sky, allowing the moon to peek out. Tanjiro finally gets a good look at the sullen face of his late night visitor. Oh there's a nostalgic sight.

A smile curls his mouth. "It's gonna be fine. I have a plan. You'll see."

Brown eyes glare from behind a fringe of blond hair. His old friend is decidedly unconvinced and unimpressed. Some things never change.

A cold, midnight breeze whispers into the room and now, stronger than before, he smells rot and infection. It summons a memory from before. He had woken up in a serene garden. Hashira were kneeling on a ground covered in white stones. A wind chime rang somewhere overhead. There was a man.

The man was not a demon slayer. He could not lift a sword. Yet everyone bowed their heads before him. He was patient, soothing hot tempers with a gentle voice. He was kind, offering sanctuary and second chances for a demon and her kin. He was dying - slowly, painfully, from the inside out. Even when the wind was perfumed with wisteria in full bloom, the persistent scent of his sick flesh filled Tanjiro's nose.

Now in a new world, in a new life, Tanjiro could smell that same diseased stench. And it was coming from his old friend.

"Zenitsu…" 

His window sill is empty. There's no fleeing shadow, no rapid footsteps. Zenitsu vanished in the space between seconds. Tanjiro almost thought that the whole meeting was nothing more than a dream. Except…

Tanjiro could smell a sick stink lingering in the air.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

"So."

Kakashi sets down an empty cup. His plate of yakitori sits equally empty. And yet, only a second ago, both were full. Kurenai suspects some sort of genjutsu at work. Either that, or Kakashi eats impossibly fast. Honestly, she would believe either explanation. 

"Which genin team did you get?"

She wipes her mouth with a napkin. "We haven't received our assignments."

"Gai has a team," Asuma points out. "He got his last year."

"I was indeed given the privilege of nurturing the youthful sprouts of our village! Soon, they shall blossom into -"

"Yes, yes, that's old news." Kakashi waves a dismissive hand.

"- fine warriors! Their dedication to training is a true inspiration! Tenten never misses her mark! Neji is -"

"Are you getting a team?" Yugao asks, stealing a skewer of yakitori from Hayate's plate. 

"- swift as the Naka river! Lee strikes with all the force of -"

"No, because I have a vested interest in maintaining my sanity," Kakashi replies.

" - a leaf hurricane! They all have the strength of the Will of Fire! Truly, my team are the first green leaves in this springtime of youth!"

Kakashi gestures at Gai to emphasize his point.

Hayate rolls his eyes, pushing his plate to Yugao. "Gai is an exception and should not be counted."

"Source?" Kakashi raises an eyebrow. 

"Obito is getting a team," Genma tells them. "I heard that from Lord Minato."

"Part of his Hokage training," Kakashi nods. "Before he can wear the hat, he has to babysit some genin."

"Obito is already so busy." Kurenai shakes her head. "You're barely in the village. And I see you more than I see him."

Kakashi shrugs. "Yeah, well… That's Obito's business…"

He speaks evenly. He breathes steadily. He keeps his shoulders low and his limbs loose. To an untrained observer, he appears perfectly at ease. But Kurenai learned from the best, and she sees through his impeccable facade. 

People aren't perfect. Even the best shinobi project mixed signals. Body language is not precise, and each gesture can have multiple interpretations. To act perfectly is essentially an act - a show - a clever little mask that hides the actor's true face. 

She studies her friend, briefly tracing the scar over his right eye. After her earlier faux pas, she cannot pry without ruining their time together. She does hope - fiercely and sincerely - that Kakashi and Obito work things out. 

If only… No. She can't think like that or she'll never stop.

"So…" Genma chews on the end of a skewer. "How's your sensei?"

"He's not my sensei," Kakashi replies automatically. "And you know… same as usual."

"Yeah? Saved any princesses lately?"

"That was one time."

"Lord Zenitsu is incredible!" Gai shouts, jumping to his feet. "He diligently completes his duties despite his affliction!"

Kakashi's fingers twitch against the side of his cup. "Right, because you're such a good shinobi despite your chakra disorder."

Gai blinks. A stifling silence settles on their table. Kurenai catches Asuma's eyes and openly displays a shell shocked expression. He only offers an equally confused and anxious look. 

The crowded yakitori shop continues its business around them. The cash registers ring. The charcoal grills sizzle. Laughter and chatter weave through the smoky air.

"I… I don't know what you mean, rival…" Gai slowly sits back down.

With a sharp spin, Kakashi faces away from them. He breathes out slowly, causing static sparks to pop out the corner of his mouth. "Mhmm…"

There goes her hopes for a happy reunion. With a silent sigh, Kurenai clears her throat. "He… He didn't mean… He was just trying to…"

"I get it," Kakashi cuts in, sharp as the blade resting over his back. It's a katana - his favored weapon. According to the rumors, it was forged with pieces of the White Fang's weapon.

Kurenai wonders if it's heavy - if some days, he has trouble breathing. The legacy of dead and dying men can't be easy to carry.

"Aah… There you go again… Making a mess of things…" comments a wry, raspy voice.

Everyone, except Kakashi, shifts. Gai straddles his seat, ready to leap. Asuma reaches for his trench knives. Hayate rests a hand on his sword hilt. Yugao wraps a fist around the nearest cup. Genma balances a senbon between his fingers. Kurenai hides a handsign under the table. Everyone, except Kakashi, prepare an attack as they turn to face -

Lord Zenitsu stands before them. He's close enough that his knees bump against the table's legs. None of them notice his approach. He made no sound. His chakra emits no signature. If Kurenai wasn't looking straight at him, she wouldn't know that he was right in front of her.

Sage above.

"I didn't do anything," Kakashi replies.

Lord Zenitsu tilts his head. "Oh? Then why can I hear such an awful sound? Hm?"

For a living legend, he seems smaller in person. His long, blond hair was tied in a high ponytail. He wore a black haori with a simple white triangle pattern. The Konoha hitai-ite was wrapped firmly over his eyes. 

"Lord Zenitsu!" Gai recovers first. He nearly trips over his chair in his rush to stand. When he finally plants both feet on the floor, he bows at a crisp 90 degree angle. "Thank you for your hard work!"

"Hello Gai," Lord Zenitsu nods at him. "Ignore my dumb student. I appreciate your praise."

Kakashi snorts. He has yet to move, continuing to face away from them.

Lord Zenitsu sighs with his whole body, shoulders sagging and spine bending. He resembles a bamboo stalk bowing to the full force of a howling hurricane. At 37, his age is a testament to his prowess and yet, right now, he appears weak and weary. It's hard to believe that he accomplished all his legendary feats, or even walked down the street without any help.

Kurenai rises to her feet. "Lord Zenitsu, if I may guide you to a seat? You must be tired after your travels."

"OH!" He cries out, grabbing hold of her hand and weaving their fingers together. "Kurenai-chan, you're so sweet! Oh! OH! If only my eyes could behold your beauty!"

Kurenai maintains a neutral countenance through sheer willpower. Despite all her hard-earned experience at subterfuge and undercover work, she couldn't ignore the revulsion churning in her stomach. She knew of Lord Zenitsu's… proclivities, nearly as infamous as Lord Jiraiya's escapades. But somehow, she remained unprepared to witness it first hand - to receive his admiring attention.

Kakashi mutters something under his breath but she can't hear it.

Lord Zenitsu does. His head swivels towards him. "Hush you! Allow a dying man some joy!" Then he turns to Kurenai, sliding his arm around hers. "Oh please, please show me to a chair. I'm completely blind, you see! Absolutely feeble! I could die any second now, but I would die happily, knowing your soft touch!"

Gai gasps. "Has it gotten so bad?! We must get you to the hospital at once!!"

Many things happen in the next few seconds. Now, Kurenai is an espionage specialist. Her preferred battlefield involves shadows and secrets, with subtle gestures and minute details. She does not fight with her fists or feet, and as such, she is fully incapable of following the lightning speed movements around her. She was only aware of a sharp, strong tug and the slap of displaced air.

When everything settled back down, she's staring at her friends from the other side of the shop. Gai has one hand outstretched, grabbing empty space. Everyone, except Kakashi and including herself, stares at the spot where Lord Zenitsu once stood. He's not there anymore, obviously, because he cleared approximately 6.75 meters in under a second, and he took Kurenai with him.

He did that without using a scrap of chakra.

"No, no, no! You mustn't interrupt the final moments of a dying man!" Lord Zenitsu yells. He still has one arm around her elbow. "Let me die upon the bouncy bosom of a woman!"

All the shop staff and their patrons have turned towards him now. A full range of reactions shift their faces, from confusion to amusement to fear.

Bang! Kakashi's fist slams against the table. "Could you have some dignity?!"

"Nope! Never had use for that, never will!" 

Kakashi levels a fearsome glare at Lord Zenitsu. For a second, Kurenai catches a flash of red in his right eye. Then the glare vanishes, faster than a drop of rain in a desert. His brows unfold and his jawline softens. 

He sighs and shakes his head. "Maa, I wonder…"

Every muscle in Lord Zenitsu's body locks up. "What… Whatever you're thinking, don't."

Kakashi shrugs. "I'm just saying… You know… If Lady Kushina heard about this - manhandling women, holding them without their permission - I mean… What would she say? Hm?"

A strangled sob escapes Lord Zenitsu. "You wouldn't! You can't! She'd kill me!"

Kakashi slowly tilts his head to one side. "I… can't? Why can't I?"

The arm pulls away from her elbow. She watches as Lord Zenitsu takes several steps away from her, slow enough for everyone to see.

Then, as if reciting from a well-rehearsed script, Lord Zenitsu says, "My deepest apologies for invading your personal space, slash troubling you with my unsolicited commentary, slash making physical contact without your explicit consent."

He finishes his statement with a perfunctory bow.

Kurenai cannot begin to imagine the expression on her face. She can feel her eyes open wide, her mouth hanging slack, her eyebrows rising to her hairline. "Um…"

Lord Zenitsu does not wait for a response, and whips around towards Kakashi. "Satisfied, you cockblocking little brat!"

Kakashi fakes a gasp, affecting a horrified look. "Language, sensei! Young ears and Gai are present!" 

For whatever reason, this causes Genma to snort loudly, which causes Hayate to cough out a laugh. Asuma's hand is suspiciously placed over his mouth, and Yugao tucks in her chin, allowing a curtain of hair to hide her face. 

They are very lucky that currently, Kurenai can't reach them.

"Alright, no more sass outta you, wise guy," Lord Zenitsu snaps. "We gotta get moving."

"Wait, are you leaving already?" Gai asks, turning to Kakashi then Lord Zenitsu then back to Kakashi. "But you just arrived! I have yet to win our latest challenge!"

By now, the other customers and the shop staff are minding their own business. Kurenai does spy a few busybodies sneaking looks at Lord Zenitsu. But the rest are contentedly continuing their private conversations and meals.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, standing up. "Marching orders, what can you do?"

Asuma copies him and reaches over to clap a hand on Kakashi's shoulder. "Hey man, stay in touch. Use Lady Kushina's fancy scrolls. I know that you have one."

Kakashi replies with an innocently clueless look. Asuma smirks and gently shoves him.

"You kidlets can't stick around here either," Lord Zenitsu tells them. "Minato's just about done with his graduation speech. Time to skedaddle."

"How do you know?" Genma asks. 

Lord Zenitsu smiles. It's the first sincere expression that she's seen from him. The air of exhaustion remains, but a warmth seems to enter his bones, from the curve of his neck, to the width of his shoulders, all the way down his spine. With one hand, he reaches up and tugs on the stud piercing his earlobe. 

"I can always hear him."

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

⚡⚡⚡

In the old days, sunset signalled the start of Tanjiro's work. Now, he can see sunsets the way everyone else does. He watches the shadows grow, the skies darken, and the lanterns light up without a thread of tension tightening around his guts. He can enjoy the evening with his friends, and no one will die.

"I'm going to kill you."

Maybe someone will die, especially if Kabuto tries his best. When Kabuto wants something done, no spirit or shinobi can stop him. 

"It's one night! The hospital won't collapse if you take the night off," Tanjiro cheerily replies, adjusting his hold on him.

"Now you've jinxed it."

Tanjiro can't see Kabuto's face, since Kabuto is hanging over his shoulder. But he can smell the salty stench of annoyance from him. Oh well.

"You've been working hard! We haven't seen each other in weeks! Do you really sleep on a cot in your office?"

"It's a futon, and who told you that? Was it Hakui? You know, if she spent less time gossiping, she would have gotten the promotion. It's not my fault that I -"

Tanjiro smiles, ignoring the strange looks as he strolls down the street. Kabuto either doesn't care or doesn't notice as he rants about the many vices of his support staff. He has so many under his supervision now. It's really quite impressive for someone so young. 

Tanjiro is so proud of his teammate. Technically, their genin team was disbanded ages ago, but that's not important. Nothing so trivial as administrative organization could keep them from meeting up for dinner. Sure, Tanjiro has to remind them sometimes - maybe even physically drag them away from their jobs. That's fine. Somehow, it all works out between him, Kabuto, and -

"Iruka!"

At the sound of his name, Tanjiro's second teammate looks up. He's leaning against the entryway to their favorite izakaya. He rushed here directly from the Academy so he never got a chance to change out of his chuunin vest. Catching sight of them, he offers a rueful wave.

"You found him!" 

"I wasn't precisely hiding," Kabuto mutters under his breath. 

"I did!" Tanjiro cheerily replies. "Sorry to make you wait. You coulda gone home and taken off your uniform."

Iruka shrugs. "Nah, it's alright. I feel weirder when I'm not wearing it."

"Could you put me down?" Kabuto asks. "Or am I eating this way?"

Tanjiro and Iruka share a look and a matching grin. Oh he has missed both of them terribly.

As genin, they were thrown together as a band of misfits. Kabuto sped through the training curriculum. Iruka flunked out of his first team. Tanjiro repeated a year after his re-entry into the Academy. No one knew what to expect from them. There was even odds on them failing or succeeding. 

But the war had ended. So the stakes were lower. And there was no harm in letting a couple kids play around a bit more, cutting their teeth on dog sitting D ranks and cat catching C ranks.

After The Incident, it turns out that they were a pretty good team. When Kabuto became a full fledged medic nin, and Iruka acquired his teaching credentials, they went on missions less often. But if the Hokage needs something done, and its something a little crazy, he calls on their team. 

Settling at the bar, Tanjiro orders the first round of drinks as Kabuto repeats his complaints to Iruka. There's a lot more hand gestures and snarling this time. Then Iruka starts venting about his work, and all the crazy kids in his class.

"But they finally graduated. They're the jounin's problem now," Iruka finishes, downing his shot of whiskey.

"Which team did my cousin get?" Tanjiro asks.

"Uchiha Obito, right?" Iruka shakes his head. "I wish him the best of luck, and that's enough said."

Kabuto snorts. "They can't be too bad. They're what? Twelve?"

Iruka levels a haunted look at him. "My brother by Fire, you have no idea."

Tanjiro considers himself lucky. He got a good team. They got along fine right from the beginning. Sure, they argued now and then, but that's normal - healthy even. And despite the troubles they went through, they survived and they stuck together. He knows that not everyone is so lucky.

Reaching up, Tanjiro traces the eyepatch covering where his right eye used to be. He thinks of the matching eyepatch on his cousin. He knows the death of a teammate is not the worst thing that could happen.

Tanjiro can only hope that this time, this team works out better for Obito-nii.

==>

⚡⚡⚡

"Where are you weakest? At the elbow or the shoulder?"

A girl, no older than ten, looks at Rin with wide, watery eyes.

"... El-Elbow?"

Rin tightens her mouth into a flat line. The tide is rising fast and their hunters are no doubt faster. A furious sea shoved them ashore, trapping the girl's arm between massive, jagged rocks. Rin doesn't have an earth affinity. She doesn't know any earth jutsu. They're out of time.

She pulls out her old hitai-ite and presses it against the girl's lips.

"Bite down."

The girl coughs out a sob but she does as she's told, clenching her jaw over the worn metal plate, teeth digging into the groove of a deep slash.

There's a visceral squelch followed by a muffled shout. Rin slaps a hand over the bleeding stump, forcing the veins and arteries to close quickly. Her other hand ropes around the girl's torso and with strength fueled by adrenaline, she pulls the girl onto her shoulders.

Somehow, someway, they climb up the steep cliffs that line Kiri's coast.

Fire Country's borders lie beyond the churning waves behind her. She takes one step forward, then another, then another. She never looks back.

Chapter Text

Minato wrinkles his nose, wiping it for the hundredth time today. Well, honestly, he hasn’t been keeping count. He couldn’t. He’s wiped his nose too many times. Despite Jiraiya-sensei’s concerns, he doesn’t feel feverish or nauseous so he certainly didn’t catch a cold. He just can’t stop sneezing, because Kushina keeps making him sneeze.

It must be some sort of prank. He must have offended her somehow and this was her revenge. If so, it was a fairly harmless revenge, and he should have happily endured until someone else caught Kushina’s ire. Except…

“Zen-nii, you’d tell me if I did something stupid, right?” Minato sniffs.

“You’d have more problems getting me to shut up,” Zen-nii chuckles. “Is this about Kushina-chan?”

Minato nods quietly.

Zen-nii’s eyes twinkle as a grin curves lazy and smug across his face. He absolutely, definitely knows something but that is not the look of someone about to share his knowing.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Zen-nii singsongs.

“We’re the same age!” Minato pouts. “If I can’t know now, then you shouldn’t either!”

Zen-nii gently pats his head, a sorry attempt to make him feel better. Then he offers to share his anmitsu, which markedly succeeds in soothing his pride. If it was truly important, Zen-nii would tell him. Minato is certain of that, at least.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

"The face you make when you're about to sneeze is the same face you make when you're about to jizz.”

Kushina should have forgotten this throwaway joke from Tsume. After they were ambushed, after she nearly died, she should have focused on training. And yet! And yet, she can’t shake Tsume’s words.

There’s no way that’s true. There’s just no way!

…

But what if…

It wouldn’t hurt to check. It would be easy to find out. Just one itsy, bitsy test, then she’s done. Then she’ll know for sure.

So, for her first try, she picks some flowers. She found a few growing by the roadside, fully in bloom. It wasn’t a proper bouquet, nowhere close. But she needs the pollen more than the petals, so presentation is hardly a priority.

Suitably armed, she closes her eyes and breathes in slowly. Chakra sensing is so weird. She’s basically stretching a limb that doesn’t exist. Technically, she doesn’t need to close her eyes or take deep breaths. Lady Mito can sense anything within a 50 kilometer radius and she can do that between blinking. Obviously, Kushina is not at her level. Yet. She will be. She just needs to practice.

And look! See? This whole experiment isn’t all fun and games. She’s exercising some practical skills too. Yep. She sure is.

Now where is that stupid sissy boy?

There! By the barbecue shop? Oh duh! Kinoko’s uncle (or nephew or cousin) owns that place. They get discounts. Of course, they would hang out there. With a sharp nod, Kushina opens her eyes and sets off, dashing across rooftops and leaping over streets.

The flowers barely survive the trip. Most of the petals had peeled away, and the pollen had mostly spilled out. She has maybe one chance at this! So, seeing Sissy boy exit the shop, smiling at something his brother said, Kushina runs up and slaps him across the face with the flowers.

…

Oh. Wait. That’s not right. She just wanted to hand it over. Except then she would be giving Sissy boy flowers. And ew. No. But she didn’t want to slap him either? Maybe? Honestly, she didn’t think this through. Eh. Whatever. She can work with this.

Zen-teme and Kinoko stare at her like she’s some kinda alien. She ignores them and watches as Sissy boy rubs his cheek - right where the flowers hit. There’s a cloud of pollen shrouding him, threading through his hair, dusting over his skin. It kinda gives him like a golden aura, especially with the sun shining directly above. But that’s not important, no. In Kushina’s eyes, Sissy boy seems to move in slow motion as he turns his head, his nostrils flaring as he inevitably inhales.

“KUSHINA!”

Something hard and heavy hits her from behind. She shouts, falling face first into the dirt. Somewhere above her, Sissy boy starts sneezing.

“Where have you been? Girl, we have training today. Did you forget?”

Ah. Yoshino-chan. Truly, Kushina adores her teammate - she really does. But she has the worst timing. The Worst!

“That was today?” Kushina groans, tasting the salty soil. Blech. She pulls herself off the ground, dragging a hand over her mouth.

Sissy boy watches her, concerned and a little bit wary. He is no longer sneezing. And there’s not a speck of pollen on him. How?! He was practically coated just a few seconds ago??

“Oh, you have a wind affinity?” Tsume yells, because of course she followed Yoshino. “Siiiick!”

“That was a flashy move just now,” Yoshino agrees. “Are you inventing a new jutsu?”

Sissy boy shrugs. “No? I just wanted to get all that pollen off me.”

Shit. Did this pretty prodigious asshole seriously use raw elemental manipulation to clean himself up? Is he for real?

“Pollen?” Yoshino echoes, frowning.

“Your teammate attacked my teammate with flowers,” Kinoko explains helpfully.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?” Zen-teme screams, very not helpfully.

In unison, her teammates and the boys turn to stare at her. Their combined attention causes a flush to form across her face. Sometimes, she really resents her pale skin, broadcasting her blush in bright, painfully obvious red. She resembles a tomato - she really does.

“Mind your own business!” Kushina shouts back. “And also! I was experimenting! And also! Fuck off!” Then she spins on her heel, stomping away, with a bundle of flowers squeezed in her hand.

She can feel their eyes watching her leave.

“- came outta nowhere -”

“- new killer move -”

“- failed love confession -”

Hearing that last one, Kushina whips out a paper seal, whirls around, and nails Zen-teme in the face with it. He shrieks, immediately reaching up to claw the seal off his face. It’s harmless, of course. It’s a simple marker tag, meant to keep track of targets over long distances. But she’s not telling Zen-teme that. He’s Sissy boy’s problem.

Glaring at her teammates, she crosses her arms. “Well? Ain’t we have training?”

Yoshino and Tsume share a look, before catching up to her. Since they’re great friends, and more importantly, super smart, they don’t ask her about everything that just happened. This doesn’t stop Tsume from giggling and Yoshino keeps watching her with mild concern. Tch.

So alright, Plan A didn’t work. According to the Kumo alphabet, there’s 25 letters so she’s just getting started.

For Plan B, she opts for the on-sight offensive. The following day, when she sees Sissy boy strolling down the road, she pelts him with multiple pepper bombs. There’s no “Hi”, no “Hello”, no “Nice weather we’re having”. She simply starts her assault.

This plan fails right away. Sure, Kushina has decent aim, but Sissy boy is unfairly fast. She runs out of ammo and he’s not even sweating.

“I came out to have a good time, and I’m feeling so attacked right now,” Sissy boy murmurs, blinking at her. There isn’t a speck of pepper anywhere on him. Unbelievable.

Kushina yowls like a wet cat, and leaves without saying a single word. To be very clear, she didn’t run away. She took a strategic retreat. Brute force has not served her well, so she must scheme.

The C in Plan C stands for Cat. Now, she doesn’t know if Sissy boy is allergic to fur or felines. But, she employed the assistance of a special cat. Miss Manners is Mikoto’s summon, which means she is one clever kitty. Kushina was not kidding about employing her. With the gracious and generous payment of catnip (as well as all the money earned from her latest D-rank mission), Miss Manners got to work.

First, she wanders over to Sissy boy, mewling like a stray. She winds between his ankles, purring and pawing at his shins. Since he’s such a sissy, he is immediately charmed, and he kneels down to pet her. Hook, line, sucker.

From her hidden perch on a nearby roof, Kushina watches as Miss Manners floofs up her pretty tail, and slowly brushes it under Sissy boy’s nose. All that dander and fine fur would make anyone sneeze, and sure enough, she sees him freeze - limbs locking and face -

BARK! BARK! BARK!

Out of freaking nowhere, a pack of hounds charge towards Miss Manners. For all her training and cunning, the poor cat could not repress her natural instincts and she flees, but not away - no she runs around Sissy boy. And the dumb dogs follow her. They literally run circles around him, kicking up a whirling storm of dust, and blocking Kushina’s view.

Through the cacophony of baying and screeching, she could barely pick up the sounds of Sissy boy sneezing. But she can’t see! She cannot fucking watch! Augh!

Later, Miss Manners demands hazard pay and Kushina grits her teeth as she hands over more money and catnip. With a lighter wallet, she plots for Plan D.

She builds a fake construction site in front of the Namikaze’s apartment. The cover story is that she’s doing a D-rank mission to “fix up the streets”. The plan is to shovel dirt in Sissy boy’s direction, creating a hefty cloud of grit and sand, which he would accidentally inhale.

And everything starts off fine. Sissy boy and Zen-teme leave their apartment, likely heading out to train or meet up with friends. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. She continues to dig, as if she’s sooo hard at work and she’s not paying them any attention.

“Road work ahead?” She hears Zen-teme reading her carefully constructed sign. “I sure hope it does.”

“Hmm, Zen-nii? Did you say some-whoa!”

Sissy boy gets a face full of dirt, but not the way she planned. The idiot wasn’t looking where he was going and he walked right into the hole that she had dug. Zen-teme tries to catch him but his flailing hands only grab hold of Sissy boy’s pants, pulling those down as his brother falls.

A pair of plain, unremarkable, white briefs is bared for all the world to see. Huh. Those don’t seem too different from panties. Kushina doesn’t get a longer look because Sissy boy uses every scrap of his infamous speed to scramble out of the hole and dash back into the apartment.

“The road doesn’t work, Zen-nii!” He cries from behind a slammed shut door. “You liar!”

“What - I’m not - But I didn’t - Minato, let me in!”

Later, Kushina will get a citation for defacing public property. Apparently, people can’t just go around, digging holes in the ground. Who knew. Honestly, Kushina ain’t even mad. She keeps remembering the sight of Sissy boy’s butt, covered by a thin layer of fabric, and she starts…

Sage have mercy. She must stay focused. She refuses to give up. For Plan E, she grabs a clipboard and puts on a tie. She drops by the Namikaze’s apartment, pretending to work for the Housing Commission. She explains that the building was due for a surprise inspection, and she’s here to ensure that everything is up to code. Sissy boy is not buying a word out of her mouth.

That’s fine. She pushes right past him. Her plan was to walk around the apartment, examining the floors and walls, before finding a suitably dusty piece of furniture to “clean”. The dust would end up airborne and bada bing bada boom.

This plan fails because the boys keep a ridiculously neat house. Seriously. The whole place is spotless.

“You live like this?” Kushina asks, halfway between awe and disgust.

Sissy boy frowns. “Uh… Yes?”

“But - But everything is so nice??”

“Ye…Yes? Why would we… I mean… We’re not rich or anything so we like to take care of the few things we have.”

That’s such a pure, goody two shoes answer. Of course, he cleans up after himself. Of course, he doesn’t let mold and grime grow on his used dishes. Of course, he doesn’t leave his dirty laundry lying everywhere. Of course, he doesn’t skip sweeping the floor, or wiping the counters, or clearing dust and cobwebs from every corner. Kushina should have expected this.

FUCK!

“Fuck!” She yells, slamming her clipboard to the floor, and marches out of the apartment

“Wait, what about the inspection?” Sissy boy asks, following her.

“Go jump off a cliff!” Kushina tells him before shutting the door in his face.

She just can’t catch a break! How is this possible? It’s literally insane! Always, there’s something that gets in the way. Is that divine intervention? Does the universe not want her to see Minato sneeze?

Diving into the nearest ramen stall, she decides to drown her sorrows with a big, steaming bowl of noodles. But, when she reaches into her wallet, she doesn’t find a single coin inside. She’s completely cleaned out. After paying Miss Manners, paying the citation fines, and paying for property damages, she’s forked over a lot of money to a lot of people. And now, she doesn’t have enough to buy one bowl of ramen.

Big, fat tears fill her eyes. She clenches her jaw - hard enough to hurt - and refuses to let loose a single drop. She won’t cry over this. She will not. Holding her breath, she swallows a sob before it crawls beyond her throat. The cook repeats the cost for her order, sticking out his hand, and she can only shake her head.

“Hey, bro!” A hand slaps some coins onto the counter. “Make that two bowls.”

Kushina stares at the money before tracing up the hand to the wrist, then the forearm, and finally at the shoulder, she catches an all too familiar, fanged grin.

“Gurl,” Tsume snarls, playful as a newborn pup. “Have ya lost your mind?”

Somehow, this breaks Kushina. Tears sweep down her cheeks as cries tear free from her throat. She falls forward, arms reaching out for her dearest, sweetest, bestest teammate. Tsume flinches back but manages only one step before Kushina grabs hold. The strength of her hug could crush bones.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Okay, lesson learned! Never go near a crazy girl!” Tsume groans, trying to peel Kushina off.

“You don’t -” Kushina hiccups. “You don’t understand! None of my plans worked!!”

Tsume sighs, going limp, and awkwardly pats Kushina on the back. “Yeah… Lemme tell ya… Folks have been spinning a yarn about your little shenanigans. What’s that all about?”

And so, Kushina tells her. Between bites of ramen, she spills out everything - all her plans, all her losses, all an attempt to make Sissy boy sneeze. Tsume listens, nodding here and there, never once interrupting. Heartsick, Kushina is touched by her friend’s sincere support.

Once Kushina finishes her explanation, they sit in a strange silence. Then Tsume opens her mouth… And she laughs. She howls. She cackles with wild glee, banging at the counter and nearly knocking down their bowls. Kushina has never felt more betrayed in her whole life.

“I hate you…” She hisses through tight teeth.

“Oh bitch please!” Tsume wheezes out. “If you wanted to see his ‘O’ face so bad, you should find out the proper way.”

“Wha-What?! No! That’s not - Gross! You - You are so so so so so wrong for that! I can’t even -”

“Y’know yer face is like ripe red, right?”

“Fuck right off!”

“Just pop Namikaze’s cherry. It’s really that easy.”

“Did you take Kuromaru’s meds again? Because you must be high outta your fucking mind!”

“That was once! And it was on accident! And you promised never to speak of it again!”

“Stop spraying your bullshit and I will consider shutting up.”

Tsume rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. Kushina doesn’t like the look on Tsume’s face - halfway between smug and sympathetic and fully infuriating. But at least, Tsume is no longer laughing, allowing Kushina to unwind a little, lowering her shoulders and opening her fists.

“How is the old dog?”

“They couldn’t save his ear. But tomorrow, the vets will let him off the leash.”

“Good. I mean, great. You’re better when he’s bossing you around.”

Tsume shakes her head. “Yeah, yeah, get bent. I’m just saying… The boys are leaving in a couple days. Blow your load now before… Well…”

Kushina blinks. “What? They’re leaving?”

“Ah? You didn’t hear? They’ve been promoted to chuunin so, they’re heading to the Kiri front. And… I know you know… They ain’t doing well over there. This might be your last chance to ever find out.”

Static buzzes over Kushina’s thoughts. “Wait… But… No… That can’t…”

Tsume snorts, looking away from her. “They’re the precious prodigies of Lord Jiraiya. There's a literal, direct line from them straight to Lord Third. This was always gonna happen. Really, I’m surprised that they stuck around for so long.”

Kushina stares at the counter, following the whorls in the wood. There's a spark of heat searing in her temples, slowly but surely burning through the static. This seems familiar. She hasn’t felt this way since she heard Uzushio had fallen. It’s the same poisonous fusion of hurt and shock and hungry fury.

“If they’re so precious, why are they going there?”

Kushina senses the way Tsume’s chakra curls in, like a little pill bug. It’s reflexive. It’s defensive. It’s a desperate attempt for survival.

“You’re clanborn. You know this game. Don’t play dumb, Kushina-chan.”

That’s right. She does know. Despite the insane skills that the Namikaze show off at every opportunity, they’re a pair of nobodies - castoff descendants from Wave maybe. And their perverted sensei trained them well enough that they might actually be useful, sure. But they’re just ten year old brats. Their death would be a write off by the end of this war.

So yes. Kushina knows.

She tastes blood on her tongue. Idly raising a finger to her mouth, she finds a wet spot and wipes. Oh. She bit her lip hard enough to bleed.

She studies the scarlet splotch slowly coloring in her fingerprint. Then she licks herself clean. She tries not to throw up.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Minato doesn’t say goodbye to Kushina or her team. They leave early tomorrow. There’s no time for goodbyes. And he wouldn’t know the right thing to say. He would mess up somehow, best to avoid that altogether. So he stands in an empty apartment, with all his weapons and equipment packed away. Zen-nii is out, giving the performance of a lifetime at his favorite bar. It’s just him, alone at home.

It’s just her on the rooftop across the street. There’s a new moon tonight so he can’t see the red of her hair. But that’s okay. He’s memorized the exact shade. He can picture her as if she’s standing in broad daylight.

She doesn’t come any closer. He almost thought that she was here to pull one last prank on him. But she’s simply sitting there, watching him. He wonders if she knows that he’s watching her. Probably, right? She’s waaaaay better at sensing chakra than him.

He almost wishes… Well, he’s not really sure. It seems… odd for her to stay so distant. Kushina has never been shy a day in her life. Yet, he has no explanation for such missish behavior. He would like… to talk. He wouldn’t mind that.

He’s not nervous about heading out, not like Zen-nii or even Kinoko. He’s heard horror stories from survivors of the Kiri frontline. But he’s just not scared. Maybe he’s broken that way.

He is oddly worried about leaving the village. His missions have never lasted longer than a fortnight. But this assignment doesn’t have an end date. He can only return if he’s dead, disabled, or when Konoha signs an armistice with Kiri. That’s a long absence. He might not recognize the village when he gets back. His home might not feel like home anymore. That scares him, more than anything.

If only Kushina came closer… They could talk about anything. He would like that. He would like that very much. His mind would finally have something else to focus on.

But the seconds drag into minutes that transform into an hour. Minato takes a seat against the wall, looking at the window. He stretches his chakra sense - slow and shaky and nowhere near refined. Sweat begins to bead his brow as he searches for her signature. Of course, she likely cloaked herself, but… No. There she is, hot as a beachside bonfire. She has so much more chakra than him, an ocean compared to his lake and just as dark. He can’t sense her emotions like she could probably sense his. That’s fine. He’s fine like this, basking in the heat of her bonfire.

It’s nice. It’s kinda like relaxing in a hot bath. He could… He could…

Zen-nii shakes him awake. It’s half past three, and they need to be at the village gates by four. He sits up, reaching for his pack, when something slides off his chest. Blinking, he finds a small box, wrapped nicely in patterned paper with a big bow on top. There’s no card or anything, no sign to show the sender. But Minato spies a long strand of scarlet hair stuck to the wrapping.

“Awww, she gave you a going away present!” Zen-nii coos, because he knows that she was here. Of course, he knows. “What are you waiting for? Open it!”

So Minato does.

A cloud of glitter explodes in his face.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

“Target sighted.” Kushina’s voice comes through clear and crisp on the radio. She’s stationed a few meters ahead, well hidden between the branches. “Northwest. Three kilometers. On the move.”

“Roger that.” Yoshino peers through her sniper’s lens and nocks an arrow, taking aim. “Locked on.”

“Fire,” Sensei orders.

The arrow pierces through the air. A deadly combination of engineering and fuuinjutsu ensures the silence of its flight. So the poor assholes never get a chance to dodge.

“Confirmed hit.” Sensei announces. “Tsume, Kuromaru, move in.”

“Roger, roger!” Tsume shifts her stance. At her side, Kuromaru transforms, mimicking her shape. In sync, they launch themselves through the trees, preparing their deadly, signature jutsu.

Now ordinarily, the Gatsuuga is useless across long distances. It’s a powerful technique but it’s notoriously difficult to aim. To get around this weakness, the Inuzuka use their dog’s pee to mark the target, then drill towards the scent. Naturally, this means that they can’t use this technique over great distances because even with the heftiest of canine cocks, pee can’t shoot across three fucking kilometers.

Her besties are an entirely different breed. They put their big brains together and invented a way to extend the scent marker’s reach. They marinated arrowheads in Kuromaru’s pee. It’s really that simple. Then, with Kushina’s sensory skills and Yoshino’s godlike aim, they easily locate and tag their target. Their attacks can launch from five kilometers away. The poor assholes never see them coming. For real.

Once tagged, Tsume and Kuromaru hustle to hit hard and fast. Sure, they can’t compete with the Namikaze twins but their speed remains respectably lethal. Before the target can finish shitting themselves, they’re ripping through with their Gatsuuga.

This time ain’t no different. The dumb bastard tries to get away and to his credit, he’s really moving his ass. Too bad the scent of piss and blood already fills the air. He can run but he sure as fuck can’t hide. Once Tsume and Kuromaru get close enough - about half a kilometer from him, they start to spin and spin and spin and spin. Boom. Blood and guts everywhere. They’re never gonna be clean killers but they’re always gonna have confirmed kills. And really, that’s all a hunter nin needs to do.

“We can definitely go faster,” Tsume brags once they finish debriefing.

They’re back in the village, walking out of the Hokage tower. With a fatter wallet and the high from a successful mission, Tsume starts running her mouth.

“Me and Kuromaru,” she goes on. “So when Yoshi shoots, we can just trail right after the arrow. The asshole gets like a second to react before we are on him like white on rice.”

“It’s ‘Kuromaru and I’ not ‘me and Kuromaru’.” Yoshino rolls her eyes.

“Erm, akshually, it’s go fuck yourself and who gives a shit,” Tsume barks back. “Ain’t that right, sushi?”

There’s a pause as both Tsume and Yoshino wait for Kushina to chime in. But the seconds pass without a peep from her, which is really weird since Tsume called her sushi. Kushina loudly hates that nickname.

Honestly, as far as nicknames go, this one’s pretty cute, in Tsume’s opinion. Sushi rhymes with Kushi and Kushina’s from an island - somewhere surrounded by sea and seafood. Obviously, Tsume put some real thought into the nickname.

But Kushina’s tsundere, so even if she does like it (which Tsume suspects), she can’t go around acting like she does. So she really should be yelling by now but nope. Ain’t a motherfucking word from her.

Tsume whips around, ready to find out what the fuck is up. But she only finds empty space. The bitch straight up vanished. She searches up and down the road, left and right, but she catches no sight of Kushina.

“She likely went to the training grounds,” Yoshino murmurs, frowning.

“Again?” Tsume sniffs the air and yep. Yoshi’s right as always. The scent trail is headed straight for Training Ground 3.

“Well… Lady Mito’s health hasn’t been…”

“Please, sis. You know that ain’t why she’s always running off.”

Tsume has never met a girlie more in denial than Uzumaki Kushina. Seriously. She is down bad for Minato and everyone knows except her.

After Team Seven left for Kiri, Kushina changed. She paid more attention to their sensei. She spent longer hours at the training grounds. She signed up for so many solo D-ranks. Anytime Tsume saw her, she was busy with something - new seal matrixes, new taijutsu exercises, new chores to complete. Anyone else would have died from exhaustion but Kushina just kept going and going.

“She is wildin’ out,” Tsume tells Yoshino.

They’re at the training grounds. After their debrief, sensei dismissed them. But here they are, a whole half hour later, still stuck together. They should go home - Tsume wants to go home. She ain’t know about Yoshino but she knows that Kuromaru feels the same way. So they really got no reason to go following Kushina and watch her kick the shit out of a log. And yet!

“Should we… I dunno… do something?”

“Why?” Yoshino raises an eyebrow. “She’s finally taking our jobs seriously.”

“Yeah, right. Yoshi, we both know a runner when we see one. That’s like literally our whole deal.”

“And? So? What could we do if we were to do something? If Team 7 doesn’t come back, maybe it’s better this way. Ignorance is bliss, etc.”

Tsume grunts and says nothing more. She reaches down to Kuromaru, idly running a hand through his fur. He presses a wet nose against the palm of her hand, whining softly. The vet confirmed his full recovery but he hasn’t gotten used to missing an ear. He’s working on it.

Better a lost ear than a lost life, Tsume thinks. She has the Namikazes to thank for that.

The log finally gives up after another bone-cracking kick from Kushina. Splinters go flying everywhere, managing to nick her cheek like some kinda petty revenge. She licks her thumb, swipes it over the cut, and the bleeding stops. Fucking Uzumaki vitality at its finest.

Tsume gets to her feet and strolls over, with Kuromaru shadowing her footsteps. “Oi, girlie! Quit fucking with the logs and start messing with some dogs.”

Breathing heavily, Kushina uses the hem of her shirt to wipe the sweat off her brow. She sneers. “Yeah? Betcha the log put up a better fight.”

“Yer gonna eat those words!”

Tsume hops onto Kuromaru’s back as Kushina settles into her fighting stance. A cold wind blows between them, heralding the arrival of autumn. Overhead, the sky blushes bright, a warning for twilight. They can scrap in the dark like any shinobi worth their salt. But they’ll finish up long before that. Kushina must be exhausted by now. As her very good friends, Tsume and Kuromaru will knock her out - get her that good sleep.

“Wait!”

Yoshino strides forward, pulls out her bo staff, and plants herself next to Kushina.

“Two on one didn’t look fair to me.” Yoshino smirks, spinning her weapon.

Oh. Well. Now it’s a party.

They spend hours beating the shit out of each other. By the time Kushina finally collapsed, they were a fucking mess. Sensei is gonna give them hell tomorrow. But that’s future-Tsume’s problem. Present-Tsume’s just happy that Kushina’s taken care of.

Honestly, she doesn’t know if Team Seven will come back home. Bigger and badder shinobi haven’t. The boys are teeny and tiny and eleven years old. Worst case scenario…

Kushina won’t be alone when she mourns.

=WIP=>

SKIP TO NEXT==>

🌀🌊🌀

Death is inevitable. It's one of the few truths shared between shinobi and civilian. And yet, somehow, death continues to surprise everyone. Even the hardest veterans can find themselves ambushed by the death of a loved one.

Kushina has seen plenty of death. She's twelve years old now, but she was eight-turning-nine when news of Uzushio's fall reached Konoha. It was the first time, and certainly not the last time, she tried to run away from the village.

Grief is such a short, neat, and simple word. It's not nearly enough to describe the enormity that it represents. There's anger. There's despair. There's fear and pain. There's nothing - a hungry, greedy nothing that foams and churns like the whirlpools from her childhood. It swallows whole senses and seconds, leaving behind a bloodless, thoughtless shell.

On this frosty, winter day in Konoha, four years after the fall of Uzushio, she feels all of that again. But there's more. The same way sweets need vinegar, she can taste relief in the back of her throat. It's done. It's over. She doesn't have to wait - hiding under her covers, knees against her chest. The hurt is here.

Uzumaki-Senju Mito is dead.

Kushina is now the last Uzumaki. And Auntie Tsuna is now the last Senju. In the breath of a second, two great clans were reduced to near nothing.

Yet somehow, the sun rises on another day, as the world continues to turn. From her perch on the Hokage mountain, sitting on the head of Lord First, she watches the villagers - shinobi and civilian - filling the streets. They walk with certainty, as if the earth remains firm beneath their feet. As if the very foundation of their lives has not been irreparably rocked.

Lucky bastards, all of them.

An ache blooms in her belly. The sealing ink dried a long time ago. But she can't shake the sensation of tacky, sticky lines on her skin. The scent of soot and oil haunts her, clinging to the tips of her fingers and the ends of her hair. She was - She had been prepared. She wasn't - she hadn't been - will never be ready.

Grandma Mito was old, and her eyes were bad, and her wrists hurt from the slightest of twists. But she was a fuinjutsu master, and the indignity of old age could not take that from her. She drew the seal with easy, effortless strokes. Yet she kissed Kushina's brow the way cornered dogs bite, trembling and wounded and vicious.

A small, little girl wanted to hate Lady Mito. She was dragged from her home, abandoned by her family, now left alone in a foreign village, all because Lady Mito needed an heir. That little girl had every right to hate this old woman.

But then, she would truly be alone.

Kushina had a choice. She could rage and rebel, drawing a line between them. She could sink inside her pain, blocking everyone out. Or...

Before the final stroke, Kushina reached out and placed her hand over Grandma Mito's wrist. Their eyes met. She smiled and she cried. Together, they finished the seal.

Even if it was a short, silent second, they had each other.

Now... Grandma Mito is dead. And Auntie Tsuna left the village. She took the first mission out. She didn't say goodbye. Why would she?

They weren't close. Auntie Tsuna was always so busy or drunk or drunk and busy. She didn't have time for a snot-nosed kid like Kushina. So yeah, maybe Kushina was an idiot for ever thinking that... But no... It's not like she had to stay. It's not like Kushina needed her company or anything equally as stupid.

And Kushina has plenty of company. She can't see them. But she can feel the heat of their gaze like a brand on her skin, forever marking her like the seal on her stomach. Even as ANBU with stealth expertise, there's no way to hide from an Uzumaki jinchuuriki.

That shitty old man Danzo hand picked her new bodyguard squad. And she gives credit where credit is due. They're good at their jobs. They're discreet. They're armed to the teeth. They're not looking underneath the underneath.

They take orders and they don’t ask any questions. Of course, she's not like a 100% sure about the orders they were given. But she would bet good money that her warden battalion weren't privy to her exact identity. If they had any idea… They wouldn't let these two nitwits get so close.

"She's here! Just like I said!"

"I didn't doubt you, Zen-nii."

Twin footsteps scramble up the mountain path. On any other day, Kushina wouldn't think twice about the Namikaze nitwits. But now, the electric sting and whispering chill of their chakra remind her of the hurricanes back home. A howling wind would weave through the swirling waves. Splinters of light would dance across a heavy, crowded sky. She used to stay up all night, watching the surf and shore surge into a single slurry.

Kushina will never see a hurricane again. This dry, landlocked village gets no proper storms. Tears prick her eyes. She buries her head between her knees, choking down lungfuls of air.

"Woah, deja vu..." Zen-teme whispers.

"Piss off!" Sweet Sage's tits. All this not-crying makes her sound like an asthmatic chainsmoker.

Seconds of silence pass by. The twins don't leave, but they don't say anything either. They must be telepathizing - or whatever. She don’t know the proper words. But the twins got this whole nonverbal communication schtick. Of course, any two-bit shinobi can read body language. But the twins are certified freaks of nature.

More seconds slip away, stealing the last scraps of her patience. Right as she turns to glare at them, there's the bright, sharp sound of a clap.

"Okay!" Zen-teme chirps, hands pressed together. "You heard the lady! Time to move out!"

Sissy boy shakes his head. "No. I'm staying."

"What?!"

Again, they stop talking. But Kushina can see that they ain't done talking. Zen-teme folds his brow. Sissy boy lifts his chin. Zen-teme crosses his arms. Sissy boy shrugs, tightening his mouth.

"Fiiiiiine," Zen-teme rolls his eyes. "I'll get the first aid kit." Without another word, he turns around and walks away, dragging his feet with each step.

Okay. Clearly, Kushina missed something. Stupid twin telepathizing. She shoots a dirty look at Sissy boy. He doesn’t even flinch, keeping a carefully blank face. Weirdo. She can’t make heads or tails of this guy. If he wore a smirk or a frown, then she’d know to beat his face in. But this way, he almost seems clueless - like he got no way of knowing why he’s standing before her. Somehow, that ticks her off.

“Ain’t you hear?” Kushina yells. “Get outta here! I’ll break your face!”

“You can break my face,” Sissy boy nods amiably, as if they were talking about the weather. “But I won’t leave.”

She can hear a guttural growl echoing between her thoughts as frothing, bubbling heat blooms from within her chest. A sharp spike of pain digs into the soft folds of her stomach. It hurts worse than getting stabbed by an actual, physical knife. Kushina grits her teeth, digging her nails into the dirt, and refusing to scream.

With all her senses turned inwards, she just barely notices the way her ANBU guard recoils and readies themselves. Their chakra sparks from that placid, notice-me-not state to a bright, crackling flame like a fuse lit. Unbelievable. She knew that they were here to kill her if she ever lost control. Glad to have that confirmed. But did Danzo seriously think that a single squad could take out a jinchuuriki? Did he really? Un-fucking-believable.

“Why?!” Kushina spits out. Why did Lady Mito do this to herself? Why did Lady Mito do this to her? Why did Auntie Tsuna hate her? Why won’t Minato leave?

“I want to keep you company,” he tells her, plain as the sun is bright. As if it was that simple! He even frowns and folds his brow like he always does when he says something so patently obvious to him that he finds speaking redundant. He wears that look whenever he’s explaining his techniques to people. This self-important, clueless, so-called prodigy!

Kushina hates him. She hates him so much. Her whole body is shaking with - with fury and - and rage and…

The growling stopped. It’s been quiet for a while now. Her chakra flows clean and clear, leaving only the aftertaste of ash.

Minato never once looked away, patiently watching her. There isn't a hint of unease - a trace of concern - a touch of fear - anywhere in him. And she knows that he knows that there’s a buncha grown ass men nearly shitting themselves in the bushes. And he knows that she knows that he knows about the beast in her belly - he has to know, especially after she… But Minato - the sissiest boy alive - never even flinched.

He’s not going to leave. He wants to stay here. He wants to stay with her.

Kushina turns away from him, returning her gaze to the village below. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

She wasn’t alone, but ANBU squads rarely make for good company. And when Minato steps up, taking a seat right beside her, she doesn’t break his face.

They stay like that, quiet and steady. She breathes in when he breathes in. He leans close enough for their arms to touch. She catches the scent of pine soap and lemon from him.

The sun starts to sink, painting the sky with the colors of a bonfire. At least, this has not changed, even if the horizon is lined with trees, even if she misses that glittering, sweeping sea. Sunset was - has been - always will be beautiful. Minato breathes out. Kushina closes her eyes.

When she wakes up, she’s back in her apartment. She’s laying on her bed - on top of her blankets, wearing the same clothes. This must have been the work of her careless ANBU escorts, leaving her cold and alone - not troubling themselves to tuck her in. But as she sits up, something rough and thin slides off her shoulders.

She looks down and finds a jacket, the light grey color striking the warmer tones of her room. It’s a pitiful threadbare thing, fraying around the edges, not nearly enough to keep the cold away. Clearly, the jacket isn’t hers (grey is such an ugly color), but she’s seen it before - seen it worn nearly every time she meets him.

Yet, Kushina doesn’t stop herself from picking up the jacket, running her hands over the cloth, checking just to be sure. And sure enough, she feels traces of chilled, whispering chakra woven into the scent of lemon-pine soap. If this makes her smile, if she lays the jacket across her pillow, if it keeps her warm through the whole night, well… No one could possibly know.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

“I can see what’s happening,” Zenitsu says, apropos of nothing.

Kinoko raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“And they don’t have a clue…” Zenitsu sighs, shaking his head.

Kinoko frowns, squinting. “Who?”

Zenitsu slings an arm around Kinoko’s neck, pulling him close and gesturing in front of him. “They’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom line, our trio’s down to two.”

Kinoko blinks. “Oh.”

“The sweet caress of twilight. There’s magic everywhere!” Zenitsu drapes himself across Kinoko, resting one hand against his brow like a maiden about to faint. “And with all this rooooomantic atmosphere, disaster in the air!”

A weathered hand callously grabs the collar of Zenitsu’s chuunin vest. He is roughly dragged off his teammate and dumped onto the ground. Squeaking from shock, Zenitsu turns around with an insult on his tongue. Only for his voice to shrivel up inside his throat as he finds himself facing Evil-Eyed Fugaku. The current deputy sheriff towers over him, exemplifying every part of his field-earned title.

“We. Are at. A funeral!” Fugaku hisses.

Zenitsu winces, attempting to hide inside his vest.

It’s true. They are at a funeral. Uzumaki Mito is ready to rest beside her husband dearest. Everyone gathered before the Hokage tower to pay their final respects. More than a few were openly weeping, even some of the so-called stoic councilors broke - their stiff upper lips quivering.

The village has lost the last of their founding pillars. Uzumaki Kushina lost the last of her clan - the remaining reminder of her once home. And yet, she is not homeless as Zenitsu’s dear brother once told her. No. Zenitsu’s dearest, sweetest brother is making sure that she finds herself settled comfortably in Konoha, as proven by their tightly linked hands.

And their sound! Minato’s melody, typically sedate and steady, now carries a fast, foot-tapping rhythm. Kushina’s cadence, usually jagged and strange, now sweeps sweetly through a series of delicate notes. Their sounds sing together in a simple, charming harmony, with hints of more complex chords later on. Zenitsu is absolutely enchanted. He’s also maybe a little bitter.

“And if he falls in love tonight…” Zenitsu whispers under his breath. “It can be assuuumed…”

“His carefree days with us are history…” Kinoko adds, because he’s a real one.

They share a look, sharing the same brain cell for a single second. They nod solemnly. “In short, our pal is dooooomed!”

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Fugaku hisses, knocking their heads together.

…But perhaps he could admire them after the funeral… He’s being downright disrespectful, as Fugaku pointed out. Except… Zenitsu heard the old lady’s sound once. During her final days, his ears picked up something familiar yet not similar. His heart threatened to jump out of his throat, and he nearly reached for his sword. Then the rest of his brain caught up and he noted all the differences. She wasn’t a demon but there was something downright demonic in her - something that she passed onto Kushina.

Beneath that demonic noise, Zenitsu could hear the strains of sorrow and longing that punctuated those final beats of her heart. She had been too old to hope, and yet she kept one last wish even with her dying breath. And in Zenitsu’s opinion, Lady Mito would have welcomed a budding romance, even at her funeral. She would have shared his wonder at the sight of her heir hand in hand with his brother.

This would have been her wish come true.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

“This doesn’t make any damn sense,” Tsume snarls, squeezing a clump of Kuromaru’s hide. “Team 7 disbanding - sure, alright. They ain’t got a sensei. They’re all chuunin. They gotta move onto bigger and better things. But us? How they gonna disband us? Our squad is the Greatest Of All Time!”

“And we all got promoted to chuunin. As you said, we must branch out to bigger and better things,” Yoshino replies.

“Team 7 got to stay together for a whole year after their promotion,” Kuromaru points out, proving once again that he’s the better, smarter half of the Inuzuka duo. “There’s no reason for us to separate so soon.”

“What he said!” Tsume nods sharply.

“Team 7 were promoted during wartime. They had extenuating circumstances which contributed to their continued -”

“Blah, blah, blah - bullshit! And you know it!” Tsume barks out. “Yoshi, you’re too smart to play dumb. Back me up here, Sushi!”

No response.

Tsume blinks, turning to look at their teammate. Yoshino copies Tsume and finds Kushina staring into space. There’s a dazed, distant look in her eyes, and a strange sense of panic possesses Yoshino. Despite Kushina’s warm weight resting against her arm, Yoshino can’t shake the suspicion that Kushina will fly off with the slightest breeze. How irrational, and yet…

“Konoha to Kushina! Come in, Kushina!” Tsume reaches over Yoshino to slap their teammate.

Before Tsume’s hit could land, Kushina jerks back, nearly falling off the bench.

And today seemed so promising. Yoshino woke up to a fine, clear morning. The weather was markedly warmer than the freezing temperatures from yesterday. She had high hopes for getting some actual work done.

Then, in the middle of breakfast (which was really quite rude), she received summons from the Hokage himself. At first, she was a touch excited. It’s been two months since her team earned their chuunin rank, and yet they haven’t received any particularly interesting work.

In retrospect, this obviously foreshadowed the team’s impending dissolution. But back then, Yoshino simply attributed the dearth of missions to the complex pivot from wartime mobilization to peacetime organization. Likewise, she hadn’t been concerned about her team’s lack of training sessions, hunting exercises, performance evaluations or check in meetings. In her defense, everyone had a good excuse - almost everyone.

Their sensei had vanished into the bowels of Konoha’s most secretive and complex division - the administrative offices. Tsume was busy at the Inuzuka kennels, assisting with the birth of several litters - one of which was Kuromaru’s pups. And Kushina… Well…

Lady Mito died. Understandably, Kushina required some privacy - some time to sort out all the decedent’s affairs. This was a clan matter so neither Tsume or Yoshino could offer help. But… But it’s been six weeks since Lady Mito’s death, surely she should be done by now. And yet, Kushina remains distant. She declined their invitations for tea, or training, or whatever else they could think of. She hardly left the Senju manor. She resembled a ghost, only spoken of and never seen.

Yoshino wanted to push - to bang on her door - to demand her company. Tsume and Kuromaru held Yoshino back, urging her to remain patient. At the time, Yoshino yielded to their wisdom. As a war orphan, family matters - clan matters were outside her realm of expertise.

Except… She is trained to watch people, to identify patterns of behavior, to examine expressions for each minute evolution. It’s part of their Hunter Nin training. She knew - deep in her bones, she knew that something was wrong. Tsume should have felt the same way. But Yoshino let Tsume talk her out of taking action. Sage, she could kick herself. Clearly, she has a long way to go before she can consider herself an expert hunter. And now, her lack of awareness is exploding in her face.

“Oi Sushi, you alright?” Tsume asks, leaning forward to get a better look at their teammate.

They’re sitting on a bench outside of their favorite sweet shop. After Lord Third bluntly announced the dissolution of their team, Tsume insisted on getting some comfort food. She wanted the barbecue from a shop close to the gates but Kushina hated that idea, preferring a shop closer to the Hokage tower. So, here they are.

Kushina shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

She is most certainly not fine. How did Yoshino not see the signs earlier? Hindsight is a cunt.

“I hate this.” Yoshino crosses her arms. “Let me be perfectly clear. I want to remain on a team with you girls. We have an excellent dynamic and extensive experience working together.”

“Right, so we-”

“However! This was inevitable. I can’t deny that. And you shouldn’t either…”

Kuromaru whines as Tsume’s face turns a fascinating shade of scarlet. “Alright. Inevitable - fine. But that don’t mean-”

“It’s better this way,” Kushina speaks up.

Tsume’s mouth opens and closes like a fish suffocating on land. Yoshino isn’t much better, staring at Kushina with eyes wide open. For ten seconds - twenty - thirty, no one says a word, allowing noises to fill the hush between them. There’s the sizzle and the snap of frying taiyaki, takoyaki, and other snacks. There’s the chitter and the chatter from all the colorful customers squeezed inside the store. There’s the clock behind the counter, ticking and tocking and ticking and tocking.

“Lord Third… knows more than us.” Kushina continues, with her head hanging low. “If he says to disband then…”

Tsume shoots to her feet, baring her fangs. “Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Kushina? My girl would never ever give up this team. She would die before -”

“You ain’t know a fuck about me!” Kushina springs up, facing Tsume. “You think I’d die for this? We’re just getting reassigned. Grow the fuck up!”

Tsume’s face grows redder and redder, yet Kushina’s remains pale and becoming paler with each word out of her mouth.

The shop goes silent, as all the customers, the cashiers, the cooks shamelessly listen to their conversation. Of course, they would. Shinobi are professional busybodies and civilians copy the shinobi. Yoshino sighs, a headache building behind her eyes.

“Ladies, perhaps we should table this discussion and continue somewhere private,” she tells them, planting herself between Tsume and Kushina.

“Nah, to hell with that. We let her leave and we ain’t ever seeing her again,” Tsume spits out, demonstrating the brains she so carefully hides behind her brash behavior. “Yanno, yer right. I gave ya too much credit. You’ve been running for a good long time now. Of course, you’d fuck off the team. That’s all you do these days. Pussy.”

Yoshino bites her lip, unsure if she can argue against that. Tsume speaks true - she always does. She simply refuses to speak politely - palatably. Her teammate never saw a need to dress up the truth - leaving it naked as a newborn.

She catches Kushina looking at her, waiting for her response. But Yoshino can’t bear the sight of those violet eyes, wet and open like a fresh wound. So she looks away. The hurt gasp hits her like a slap. Immediately, she understands the error of her actions.

Like bowstring released, Kushina shouts, “Yeah? At least I’m not a bitch sucking dog dick all day!”

Kuromaru growls, heavy and hard enough to rattle ribs. Before anyone can react, he pulls off the ground and lunges at Kushina. As a well trained kunoichi, she reacts with brutal violence, swiping her arm forward. Now Kushina is about half the size of Kuromaru - a full grown Inuzuka dog. But her small hand manages to grab his throat and hold him in the air for a second - long enough for Tsume to scream with fearful rage. Then with a mighty heave, she throws him far and fast towards the wall of a neighboring store.

A tooth-aching thud echoes across the street as Kuromaru hits the bricks, letting out a hurt squeal. Tsume is dashing towards him before he finishes sliding to the ground. If Kushina was pale before, she’s bone-white now.

“Wait - no, I didn’t mean -”

“You fucking monster!” Tsume screeches, pressing chakra-green hands on the unconscious Kuromaru. “What the fuck is your damage?!?”

“I didn’t mean -” Kushina turns to Yoshino. “I would never - he just leapt - I wasn’t -”

Yoshino can’t even imagine the expression on her face. She must look horrid because Kushina flinches at the sight of her.

“How could you…” Someone asks, hollow and horrified. After a second, Yoshino realizes that she’s the one speaking. She didn’t even recognize her voice.

“It was an accident!” Kushina cries. “Please believe me! I-”

Before she could say another word, Kushina doubles over, arms winding around her belly. A low, guttural noise erupts from her throat - feral and furious. Yoshino takes a step back, a hand reaching for her weapons pouch, as terror takes control. Something terrible is here - something awful and huge and nowhere she can see. Yoshino has never felt so small.

There’s a wet, messy breath as Kushina stumbles away from Yoshino - the store - everyone. With her head down, she spins on her heel, arms remaining tight around her belly, and dashes towards the Hokage Tower. Distantly, Yoshino notes the silhouette of the Hokage, standing sharp and severe on the Tower’s roof as if watching the events at this small shop, between these three girls. But that would be absurd.

About as absurd as watching someone’s eyes change color, Yoshino thinks. By which she means not absurd in the least. And she definitely watched Kushina’s eyes brighten from violet to a bloodfire red. By which she means… carefully noting the long shadows of the shop, longer than these shadows had any right to be… By which she means, she saw nothing - absolutely nothing at all.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Some people are insightful. Minato is insight-less, according to Zen-nii. That’s not precisely true. Zen-nii just likes to say so because Minato doesn’t notice when girls flirt with him. But Minato likes to think that he notices plenty of other things. He isn’t very good at understanding other people’s emotions, yes. But he is fully capable of recognizing other people’s emotions.

So he knows about Kushina - about her strangely distant tendencies and the recent sweet shop incident. Clearly, she’s upset and definitely in need of support, even if no one can know the reasons for her upset. Now he is admittedly tone deaf, but in his opinion, the solution is quite simple. Don’t leave Kushina alone.

She’s not pulling away because she hates everyone. She’s pulling away because she’s frightened and attempting to soothe herself (which she is failing spectacularly). So don’t leave her alone. Yet, despite such an obvious solution (at least to him), Kushina’s teammates and even her “bestie”, Uchiha Mikoto, remain distant.

If Zen-nii was around, he would stay by her side, annoying the ever-living shit out of her - true, but keeping her company (which is all she needs). Minato is regrettably not his brother, so he can only watch as Kushina falls deeper into despair. He should do something, but comfort and care was Zen-nii’s expertise. He’s better in a fight - just point him at whoever needs to die and he goes to work.

Emotions are tricky - nebulous and intangible. He can’t punch sadness away. He would very much like to. He’s heard rumors about the psych division’s latest medicines, which target the physical manifestations of emotions - enzymes and chemical receptors. But drugging people is bad and Zen-nii would be so disappointed.

This leaves Minato stuck, with a strange tightness in his chest. He feels as if his ribs were made of metal - unyielding to the desperate press of his lungs, restraining his every breath. As far as he can tell, there’s no somatic cause for this feeling - it’s not heartburn or asthma or poisoned gas. It’s all psychological - the bodily symptom for sympathy… No, not sympathy…

Minato doesn’t pity Kushina because perhaps for the first time in his short life, Minato understands. There’s no cure for this sort of thing - none that he knows of. He can swallow all the pills and drink all the doses. But he’s never going to be one of them - just another somebody. Either his brain runs too fast or his heart runs too slow, setting him on a pedestal or leaving him in the dust - never on the same level.

Even Zen-nii never matches his pace, not always, not entirely. They both know that Zen-nii could find nicer company, someone that understands better. Yet he stays - he sticks around - he picks Minato, again and again and again. On some days, Minato curses Zen-nii’s defiance against all sense. On other days - most days, Minato could weep from wordless gratitude.

It’s really quite inconvenient because there’s no warning before he’s overwhelmed with emotion. He could be doing the dishes and discover Zen-nii’s cup in a corner of the cabinet. Then all at once, he’ll remember his brother’s obnoxious laugh - his constant crying - his promises to never leave. And Minato has to sit down for a while because his legs stop working. He’ll sit at the table, tracing the whorls on the wood until he can breathe without suffocating on snot.

Kushina doesn’t have a Zen-nii, and just two months ago, she lost the last tie to Uzushio.

Minato wants so badly to help. He seriously considers fetching Zen-nii from his latest courier mission. But that’s probably treason or something. At the very least, it’s willful sabotage of a fellow shinobi. To quote a friend, how troublesome.

Of course, Minato is not the only one to notice Kushina’s increasing isolation. Why Kumo knows - How Kumo knows - That’s the job of T&I. He has a far simpler task at hand.

The whole debacle starts off when Minato finally grows a pair, as Kinoko would say. He has a plan because he always has a plan even if that plan is not the best plan. Ahem. He got restaurant recommendations from the Akimichi heir himself, Chouza. He’s going to buy her the tastiest bowl of ramen in Konoha, compliment her continuously through the meal, and stare deeply into her eyes as heat builds between them.

According to Jiraiya-sensei, this was the best way to appease a woman. Kushina qualifies as a woman, possibly - most likely. Minato isn’t entirely sure about the heat supposedly building between them. Perhaps, that refers to a lit candle which is a staple for intimate dinners between a man and a woman. Minato qualifies as a man, in a way - almost. His voice will drop any day now.

Right. So, that’s the plan, which Minato has. It’s not the best plan, because he referenced Jiraiya-sensei’s understanding of women. But it’s a plan. It’s something.

Then, he arrives at Kushina’s house and finds two dead ANBU. The corpses were hastily thrown behind the bushes lining the garden path. The culprits weren’t truly trying to hide them, prioritizing efficiency and escape. The bodies were fresh, with skin holding onto vestiges of warmth. The killers couldn’t have gotten far, unless they were faster than him, and he’s fairly confident in his speed.

He searches the residence for any other clues. There’s a trail of destruction from the kitchen down the hall to the back garden. Stretching his chakra sense, he identifies three faint, foreign signatures and one familiar warmth. He can’t trace them beyond the property line, as the surrounding forest already absorbed most of the chakra trail. That’s the downside of living in the Village Hidden by Leaves. The thick trees, with interlocking roots, can swallow whole just about anything. If only he had Zen-nii’s ears or an Inuzuka’s nose - if only he was a better sensor…

Wait.

What’s this?

Dropping to the forest floor, Minato picks out a vibrant red streak, lying in sharp contrast to the native browns and greens. It’s a strand of hair, colored a hue that he had long since seared into his memory. Even if he went blind this very second, he would remember this red to his dying day. As such, he finds the other strands with marked ease.

They’re headed north.

Minato runs.

There is a hefty benefit to living in a Village Hidden by Leaves. All the trees look the same to an outsider coming in, or going out. If they marked their way in, they would have to stop and search for each mark. Minato could run through these trees with both eyes closed.

He almost has to. When he catches up to them, the sky is a blanket of black, with only a sparse set of stars. This late at night, the full moon is all the light he has. It’s enough for him to confirm that Kushina is alive, apparently unharmed except for the dazed look in her eye. Genjutsu? Fuinjutsu? Juinjutsu? He can’t tell. That’s fine.

Konoha must know by now, and backup is likely en route. But they’re so close to the border. No one else will get here on time. That’s fine.

They’re bigger, older, possibly meaner. And they outnumber him, three to one. That’s fine. They’re going to need those extra hands.

Minato launches himself forward, landing just a step behind and slightly to the right of the closest Kumo nin. It's a man, likely a jounin or higher because no one would send chuunin to kidnap Konoha’s jinchuuriki. Minato doesn’t let him scream or shout before he cracks the man’s neck with the hard-edge of his hand.

The other two turn around just in time to watch their comrade fall. By then, Minato is already behind them. If they get a chance to hit him, then it’s all over. Their chakra capacities are twice the size of his. So he must never give them a chance. It’s truly that simple.

The second Kumo nin falls from a well-aimed kick to the throat. Now, there’s only one left and that guy seems spooked. He leaps away from Kushina, entirely abandoning his mission. But he doesn’t flee, no. He finds a perch on a nearby tree, possibly using his chakra sense to seek out Minato. That’s a big mistake. Konoha nin use the surrounding forests the way children use playgrounds. This foreigner could not have picked a worse place to hide and seek.

He doesn’t notice until it’s entirely too late. Minato is no longer on the ground, sticking to a branch right underneath his nose. The Kumo nin has a kunai at the ready. It’s not nearly enough. Minato ducks his swipe, aiming a blast of wind straight at his center of mass. The Kumo nin is blasted off his feet, hitting a nearby tree with a spine crunching crash. If he’s still alive, at least he won’t move anytime soon.

Kushina keeps walking forward, dragging her feet. A strange expression remains on her face and that’s not promising in any way. What exactly did they do?

Minato lands just a few steps away from her. “Are you hurt?”

Kushina doesn’t respond, but she stops walking and she lifts her head. For a second, they stare at each other, standing in the shadows of the forest canopy. A cold wind blows through, shifting the clouds and the branches, allowing the moon to shine down on them.

“I came to save you,” he says, simply to say something. Her silence is starting to concern him so he offers a reassuring smile. Sage please let him look reassuring.

For a brief second, Minato swears that she smiles back. Before he can properly process this, her legs buckle beneath her and she falls forward. He dashes forward, at the same speed he attacked with but now for a radically different reason. He catches her easily, keeping her head well above the hard ground.

“You’re alright now,” he tells her, smiling wider as she manages to sit up.

Even this close, the suboptimal light keeps him from getting a good look. This really won’t do. And well, he’s already in direct contact with her. There’s really no need to maintain personal space at this point. So he reaches down, sliding his arms around her back and knees.

“Hey, wait -”

Minato leaps straight up, moving closer to the moon, where the light is clear and free.

“That’s -” Kushina whispers.

He glances down and follows her gaze, finding the red strands of hair clutched in his fist. He didn’t let go of a single one, even through the battle, he held each tightly.

“Aa. Your hair is beautiful. So I noticed these right away,” Minato explains.

She shifts in his arms. “But you’ve been ignoring me…” She says, with an audible pout.

“I…” He breathes out slowly, searching for the right answer. He could opt for honesty, or he could take a page from Jiraiya-sensei’s book. “...Actually, I stopped by your place to see if you would like to have dinner with me.”

She breathes in, hard and fast. “You… with me?”

Minato lands at the top of the tallest tree. He faces her properly, taking note of each minute detail. She seems alright - awake and aware of her surroundings, at least. And there’s no sign of any external injury. Of course, she might have internal problems, both physically and mentally. But for now, he’s satisfied.

“You’re strong in both body and mind. But… you seem stressed out lately…” That’s an understatement. “I wanted to cheer you up.”

Kushina blinks at him, apparently too stunned to speak. Minato keeps on smiling for lack of anything better to do. When clearly, she’s not going to respond, he clears his throat.

“I know that you can take care of yourself. But you’re not alone anymore. I can help if you would let me.”

Kushina’s eyes darken and she twists her mouth as if she tasted something awful. That is not the reaction he was hoping for. In fact, that may be the exact reaction he wanted to avoid. Sage, he is really bad at comforting people. It’s actually -

“What can you do?” she murmurs, barely audible.

“Hm?”

“You can’t bring back Uzushio. You can’t revive Lady Mito. You can’t…” Her voice breaks as she bites back a sob. “So what if you’re a top dog prodigy? You’re just a chuunin. You can’t do shit.”

Minato stops smiling. He opens and closes his mouth, searching for a way to correct her. But she didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.

“We should head back…” Kushina spits out through grit teeth, folding her hands above her belly. “I can’t… Whatever those assholes did… It’s wearing off…”

Minato quietly nods before pushing off the tree and dashing towards the village. For the first few seconds, neither speaks and Minato becomes keenly aware of broiling heat bubbling out of Kushina. His sleeves begin to singe but he holds on tighter, refusing to let go.

Once they see the village walls, an ANBU squad intercepts them. The captain, wearing a stag beetle mask, steps forward, holding out his arms.

“Good work. We can handle things from here.”

Minato looks to Kushina, awaiting her assent, but her eyes are squeezed shut, sweat beading on her brow as she breathes roughly. He frowns and lifts his chin, squaring his shoulders, and stares directly at the ANBU captain.

“With all due respect, sir, I am faster than you. I can get her to safety before you can.”

Then to prove his point, he launches himself forward. The ANBU squad flinches, swiping at him with kunai and tanto and taijutsu. But he dodges each reflexive attack with ease, and barrels onwards into the village. He’s monitored Kushina’s movements these last two months and he noted an approximate perimeter that she avoids crossing at all costs. He can hazard a guess on her reasons, so he heads directly to the closest part.

The second his foot slides over the perimeter, Kushina lets out a soft sigh, her entire body almost melting in his arms. The danger seems to have passed. But Minato doesn’t stop, adjusting his trajectory and moving towards Kushina’s house. Someone should’ve secured the place by now, and if not, Minato was going to file a formal complaint, with timestamps.

Luckily for the Admin division, the house is cleaned up. There’s no more dead bodies in the shrubberies. So at least, someone did their job, he thinks wryly as he sets Kushina down on the engawa. They even managed to sweep out the broken ceramic and straightened up the furniture.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” The ANBU captain laughs, catching up to them. “Hawk, what was that? 40 seconds? 30?”

The ANBU squad drops into the garden, right in front of Minato and Kushina. Their landing didn’t make a single noise and didn’t disturb a single pebble. Cool.

“25, sir,” Hawk answers, breathing a little heavy. “Correction: 23.5.”

The ANBU captain stands to his full height. “Boy, you sure can move.”

“Namikaze Minato, sir. Chuunin 012807,” he tells them with a shallow bow. “For your report.”

“And what report would that be?”

“I disobeyed your order. As such, I should be reported for my misconduct.”

“Minato, no…” Kushina wheezes at his side, reaching over and grabbing a fistful of his jacket. “You were helping out because clearly my guards ain’t doing their jobs. You should get a medal, not a punishment!”

Minato turns to her, smiling. “It’s fine, Kushina.” Then he blinks. “Oh, you said my name.”

Her face abruptly colors a scarlet red. Crossing her arms, she turns away from him. “Don’t make this weird, sissy boy!”

The ANBU captain clears his throat and Minato faces him.

“Head home for now, and await further communication, Namikaze-san.”

Again, Minato glances at Kushina. “Will you be okay here? I’d be happy to stay.”

She shoves his shoulder, hard. “Just go already!” Then she pins the ANBU captain with a heated glare. “I’ll talk to the old man. You won’t get in trouble for this.”

With the mask on, Minato can’t tell if the captain is smiling. Yet, somehow, he suspects that the captain is very amused. His chakra seems to hum like a busy beehive in a field full of flowers. Huh.

“I’ll catch you later, Kushina.” Minato smiles. “Maybe then, we can have dinner. I hear that Teuchi-san makes the best ramen.”

“He does,” the ANBU captain confirms.

Minato offers him another shallow bow before taking off. He goes straight to his apartment, no stopovers. Where else would he go? He doesn’t really… hang out with other people. He’s a homebody at heart, only embarking on exciting excursions at the insistence of his team. But nowadays, his team is nowhere near the village.

Jiraiya-sensei stayed in Ame. Zen-nii was somewhere between Suna and Kusa. Kinoko got stationed at the Kumo border. And boy, he sure has a letter for him. What are they doing up there? How did they let this squad come through?

He’s finishing his letter to Kinoko when someone knocks on the front door. Barely three hours have passed since he returned home. And certainly, he expected to hear from someone soon, but not this soon. Haaah. He might as well get this over with.

Opening the door, the same stag beetle mask greets him with a brisk nod. “Pardon the intrusion, Namikaze-san.”

“Hello Captain-san,” Minato nods back, before stepping aside.

Captain-san walks in, shuts the door behind him, and forms a one-handed sign. A spark skitters down Minato’s spine as chakra envelops the whole flat. Some kind of silencer jutsu? It used a modified bird sign. How does that work? He can hear sounds from the outside. So it must-

“Namikaze-san.”

Ah. Right. Focus on the important meeting now, work on the jutsu research later.

“Captain-san, are you not taking me to T&I?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I have possession of confidential intel, disobeyed a direct order, and -”

“- outpaced a squad of trained ANBU. None of my men could touch you.”

“Yes. You should work on that.”

Once more, Minato gets the distinct impression that Captain-san is laughing behind his mask.

“Or better yet, a faster shinobi should join my team.” Captain-san nods at him, in case his speech isn’t pointed enough.

They want him to join ANBU. He’s a thirteen year old chuunin. His record is commendable, certainly, with a long list of feats and successes. But ANBU? They recruit only the most elite and experienced shinobi. He’s barely a teenager.

And they specialize in assassinations. There’s also that. Zen-nii would hate him for joining.

…

Except, he can’t “do shit” as a chuunin. He saved Kushina through sheer, dumb luck. He was at the right place at the right time. That’s not something he can replicate again and again. As Kinoko once said, “luck is not a skill”. If he wants to protect her - to protect everyone better, then he needs to place himself in a position to act, not just react. And…

And Zen-nii doesn’t need to know. Minato can keep a secret. Not forever, of course, just until he can figure out the best way to inform his brother.

“Will you teach me that silencer jutsu if I join?” Minato asks.

“If you can learn it,” Captain-san answers. “I’ll teach you anything.”

“Then…” Minato bows from the waist. “I look forward to learning a lot from you.”

==>

🌀🌊🌀

As horrible and awful and cruel as this world can be, Zenitsu surprises himself by loving Konoha.

Oh, he doesn’t care for the Hokage - a man aging like milk. He has little loyalty to the Daimyo - a rich asshole surrounded by pretty women. He doesn’t understand the Will of Fire, which Minato believes in - a bit fanatically.

But he found new friends. He made precious memories. He settled into Konoha like a sword finding its sheathe. For better or for worse, the village is his home, and after spending weeks on the road, he really misses home. He misses his futon, his favorite sweet shop, the bathhouse with all the beautiful babes, and of course, his beloved little brother.

Courier missions would be easy, they said. He’s just delivering messages, they said. Filthy liars, all of them. First, the forts were stationed on different ends of the country. He had to travel for days and days, rarely seeing any women because the forts are so damn remote. Second, he was constantly chased by scary shinobi. He outran them all, sure, but he suffered intense distress! He shed blood, sweat, and tears for some skinny scrolls. It’s the height of injustice - the absolute pinnacle!

He almost weeps at the sight of those tall, village walls. He is so ready for a nap - a real one and not the kind he gets when facing a bunch of people ready to kill him. There had been so many people trying to kill him. Why? He’s done nothing wrong, ever in his life!

…

Well, nothing worthy of execution.

Ahem. So, he’s finally home, where he can shower, sleep, and maybe even seek out company at the Lonesome Flower. They treat him like a little boy (which he technically is), offering him candy and petting his hair. He knows if he makes an honest request, they would sell him a night. But he… Last time, he saved his first for a truly special someone. He can wait again. He’s a romantic really - beneath his hardened, manly exterior, there lies a fragile, maiden heart.

And it’s not like settling for the sweet embrace of a buxom woman is a hardship. He’s happy to cuddle on a couch with Kyoko, and Sachiko, and Haru and -

“Zen-nii! You’re home early!”

Oh huh? He crossed the village gates already? Did he zone out through the check in process? He must have. Well. If he’s in, he’s in, as the Flower girls like to say.

“Weren’t you close to Stone Country? How’d you come back so fast?”

Zenitsu’s eyes land on the golden head of the most darling, most precious, most divine boy in Konoha. All at once, relief surges through him like a thunderstorm, and an ear-splitting wail erupts out of his throat.

“MINATOOOOOOOOOOO!”

At full speed, leaving a trail of lightning, Zenitsu launches himself towards his little brother, fully confident in Minato’s ability to catch him. And Minato does, with ease - almost too easily - whoa. When did his little brother get so buff?

“Have you been working out?” Zenitsu asks, muffled by Minato’s new abs.

“Uh, yes. I started a new training regime. It’s challenging but real effective,” his brother explains, gently squeezing Zenitsu. Hot damn. Those are bonafide biceps. That’s some training.

Pulling away, Zenitsu inspects his brother from head to toe. Minato has the same summer-bright hair, the same clear-weather eyes, but his cheeks are no longer round and plump. No, his whole face seems thinner - sharper. But he doesn’t sound sick. His heart beats with the steadiness of a drum - like the big ones used to alert whole villages. And there’s a warm glow to his skin, as if he spent too much time under the sun.

Minato looks good. He looks really good. His little brother has started to mature from a cute, little baby to a big, handsome man. And he didn’t have the good grace to look horrible in the process!

What the hell! That’s just not fair! Aren’t they twins? Zenitsu did not look that good at thirteen - which he is now. Again. He can already feel the pimples ready to pop out. It’s all this stress! It’s not good for his skin!

Clapping two heavy hands on Minato’s shoulders, Zenitsu leans in close. “How dare you...”

Minato’s sound turns shrill, resembling nails on a chalkboard. “Huh? I don’t know-”

Zenitsu starts shaking him. “I didn’t give you permission to grow up! Give me back my baby brother! Give him baaaaack!”

“Zen-nii, please!”

“How are you so fucking pretty?! I fed you and raised you and you betray me like this!! The girls are going crazy over you, aren’t they? Aren’t they, Minato?! You can answer honestly!”

“It’s not like that!” His not-so-little brother peels away from his hold.

There’s such an earnest sound of guilt coming from him. Zenitsu falls silent, almost feeling bad. Then Minato smiles with straight, shiny teeth, and Zenitsu bites his lip hard enough to taste blood. That kind of perfection should be illegal!

“You must be tired from all that travel. Let’s get you some mochi. How does that sound, hm? I’ll buy your favorite kind.”

Zenitsu crosses his arms and turns away. He will not be bribed.

“With extra syrup.”

Nope. Nuh uh. That won’t work, not after such a brutal betrayal.

“There’s a new serving girl at the-”

“Say less!”

And with that, Zenitsu snatches Minato’s wrist and drags him to their favorite sweet shop. After a filling meal and an eyeful of the most beautiful woman in the world (“You say that about every girl.” “And it’s true every time!”), Zenitsu is rejuvenated. Sure, he could use a long bath, but now, he can survive until sunset.

“That’s wonderful, Zen-nii, I’m glad.”

“Don’t patronize me, Minato. Honestly, when did you get so cheeky!”

“But I’m not-”

“I can hear the cheekiness!” Zenitsu pokes Minato’s face, emphasizing his point.

His little brother laughs. “I don’t mean to be. I’m sincerely, sincerely happy to have you home.”

Yeah. He really is. Zenitsu was lying. Minato’s not the best at expressing himself, and half the time, he sounds rude, when he really means well. Usually. But Zenitsu’s ears have never failed him yet. He can pick up the soft, hushed tones from his little brother - like a baby bird peeking out the shell. Minato has always been a quiet kid, especially compared to Zenitsu. But he feels just as intensely, just as urgently, and just as sweetly.

If Zenitsu could swaddle him in silk and tuck him into the finest, velvet-lined box, he would. Maybe then, he’ll never hear the silence his brother makes - that ringing, depthless absence of sound.

“You know, you might’ve gotten faster,” Minato tells him, on the way home.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes. Last I heard, you were by Stone Country, and that was three days ago. Most people take a whole week to travel that distance.”

“Pssssh, naw. I just took a couple shortcuts.”

“If you say so, Zen-nii.”

They reach their flat with no trouble. Zenitsu gets to bathe first because Minato is the sweetest boy to ever live. Then they bed down on their futons pressed close as always. He missed this the most. During all those long, lonely nights, when he made camp on the roadside all by himself, he missed Minato the most.

Back in his first life, at the age of thirteen, he was in a similar situation. He was an abandoned, bastard kid - one of dozens. But he didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so he slept on the streets alone. In this life, in one of the few ways that this life is so much better, he has Minato. Since birth, his little brother has curled against him, a tender warmth to keep him company. So despite their messed up childhoods, he was never once lonely.

As Zenitsu pulls his blanket up, he turns to Minato. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Minato turns to him, half smiling. He probably didn’t even notice that he was smiling. He just heard Zenitsu’s voice and his mouth just curved up - like a reflex of some kind. Minato is happy just to be here with him.

All at once, Zenitsu prays with an urgency that he never felt even in his last life. If there is some kind of cosmic force watching over their puny mortal lives, if the universe can hear him now, then please please please don’t let him mess up. His brother needs to stay like this forever - carefree, unburdened by expectations and responsibilities. Zenitsu cannot allow this village to use Minato the way it uses so many of its talented young.

His little brother is a good boy. But he knows that Minato can also become the best shinobi. And Zenitsu fears that more than anything.

“Zen-nii? You’re crying…”

Zenitsu shakes his head. “I’m okay. I just… I’m home, little brother.”

And Minato’s smile blooms full and lush. Joy purrs throughout his sound, deep and achingly sweet. “Welcome home, big brother.”

Together, facing each other, they fall asleep. Zenitsu’s exhaustion drags him past the capacity to dream. He is then surprised to find himself waking long before he’s rested. If he slept for hours or minutes, he doesn’t know, because the room looks pretty much the same. All the lights are off and the sky remains pitch black. He tries to move - to twitch even a finger. But his body sits heavy and hard on the futon, as if the weight of his muscles and bones have multiplied eightfold. He really shouldn’t be awake, but he is.

The cause is easy to spot, even in the dark. Minato is dressed in his daywear and picking up a packed bag. With extreme effort, Zenitsu lifts his spine, sitting up.

“Mimi-chan?”

“Oh.” Minato turns to him, blinking. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Whuz gowin on…”

“Nothing, nothing. I just have a mission. It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”

There’s a thread of dissonance in Minato’s sound - like glass sliding against glass. That’s weird. Zenitsu should… He should… Hrmmm. He slumps to the side, nearly planting his face on the floor. Minato catches him, appearing at his shoulder in the blink of a second. Carefully, oh so carefully, his little brother tucks him into the futon.

“Sleep well, Zen-nii. I’ll be -”

Minato’s words fade into the void as Zenitsu slips into a dreamless sleep. This time, no sound reaches him. Hours, minutes, and seconds cease to have any meaning. And when he wakes up again, the sun sits low in the sky - not quite but close to sunset. His body remains heavy and stiff as exhaustion continues to kick his ass. Honestly, he feels worse than before he slept, which is ironic and unfair. But through a combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach, he manages to crawl out of his futon.

When he finishes his toilet business, he’s touched to find a covered plate waiting on the kitchen table. There’s a note from Minato, markedly emphasizing his absence. So Zenitsu didn’t dream that little talk - he was starting to think so. He can barely remember anything about it, but something tugs at the back of his mind. Hmmm.

Squeezing his eyes shut, tilting his head from side to side, he tries to focus on the words they last said to each other. But the memory slips from him like smoke through his fingers. Ah well. If it was truly important, he would remember in time.

Zenitsu does absolutely nothing for the next few days. Minato kindly left a full fridge so Zenitsu happily eats and sleeps and eats some more. When that’s not enough to fill the hours, he entertains himself - reading funny comics, listening to radio shows, or partaking in private activities preferred by single, young men. He doesn’t leave his apartment, not even to visit the bathhouses, opting to laze around on his futon, which never gets put away. At some point, he does finish some laundry, but only because he ran out of clean socks.

A whole week passes with little excitement and it is pure bliss. Except, Minato isn’t home yet. And that’s fine, for now. Missions can take a long time. But on the tenth day of his absence, Zenitsu starts to worry. Except, he doesn’t worry for very long because someone drags him to the Hokage’s office. His mission report is overdue and he has a new assignment. Woohoo. Zenitsu ends up leaving before Minato returns.

In the following months, they continue to miss each other. Sometimes, Zenitsu is in the village and Minato is not. Sometimes, Minato arrives right before Zenitsu has to say goodbye. Sometimes, Minato is in the village only to leave before Zenitsu can get home. It’s absolutely insane! Someone is screwing with them on purpose! Zenitsu is going to file a complaint!

“That is absolutely not necessary,” Minato tells him with a firm look. “Aren’t we hanging out now? What’s the problem?”

“Yeah, but how long can you stay? How long can I stay?! Aren’t they working us to death?!?”

Spring has come again. Minato was already in the village when Zenitsu got back two days ago. So for once, their schedules lined up, and they happily celebrated their fourteenth birthday, despite the date almost six months late. It's been that long since they've been together. Their celebration was pitiful, really. They exchanged small gifts and prepared their favorite meals - well, Minato completed most of the prep since Zenitsu slept through most of the morning.

He just got back from another mission at the border! His calves were constantly cramping, his blisters had blisters - really, he nearly crawled the whole way home! Of course, he slept for a day and a half. It’s quite reasonable, honestly. And Minato happily cooked for both of them, so…

Ahem. Since Zenitsu has recovered somewhat, and with the roads fairly free of snow, he treats Minato to some melon bread and matcha at the nearby bakery. His little brother didn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but he enjoyed a good pastry. So now, they’re sitting on the bakery roof, munching on their snacks.

Minato wrinkles his nose, swallowing a bite. “Well, I’m on vacation.”

“What!” Zenitsu slaps the ceramic tiles beneath him. “You’re joking! I want a vacation too. I need a vacation! Could you get me one??”

“I didn’t exactly ask for it. One of my teammates got really injured during our last mission. So we’re sticking around here until she heals up.”

“Oh.”

“She’s fine. She received medical care before her injuries became critical.”

Zenitsu frowns, folding his brow. A sense of unease sits in his belly. “Hey, Minato… What kind of mission were you on?”

His little brother takes another bite, chewing carefully. His pulse spikes a little as his sound fades to a near non-existent hum. It’s a perfectly maintained note, easily considered serene or at peace like the “om” of a monk in the middle of meditation. But Zenitsu knows his brother. Unlike himself, Minato shuts down in the face of danger. So if his sound is more monotone, then something has gone terribly wrong.

Zenitsu is a second away from panicking. Was there an enemy nearby? Are they about to attack? What was go-

“Minato, there you are.”

A man, clearly of the Hyuuga clan, leaps onto the roof, landing a respectful distance from them. Zenitsu does not recognize this man, but Minato apparently does. His little brother clumsily climbs to his feet, slipping on the tiles in his haste.

“Ah hello, that is - good morning, I… Um…”

Minato’s sound breaks from a smooth, singular hum to a frenzied rhythm filled with wide swings in pitch. Yet his face remains perfectly composed - not a single twitch of the eye or the slightest fold of his brow. In Zenitsu’s eyes, this serves as another sign of Minato’s distress. His little brother only looks calm when he’s completely freaking out. But why? Nothing’s happening? He’s just talking to some guy?

Well, it’s less talking, more stuttering. He’s acting like one of his fangirls - unable to string a coherent sentence, too stunned by…

…

No.

…

No way, no way, no way!! There’s no way. Since when?? But wait… Ha??? How did Zenitsu never notice?! So then… Eh? Really?!? It all makes sense!! That’s…

Zenitsu’s head snaps to the side as he studies the Hyuuga clansman. Tall - twice the height of his brother, muscular but not bulky, chiseled cheekbones with a firm jawline - yep! That there is a certified, bonafide, genuine hottie. He is a dreamboat, a studmuffin, a hunk of burning love. Basically, his little brother has excellent taste in men. That doesn’t surprise Zenitsu. Minato is excellent at everything, so of course, he would like equally excellent men.

“-a little something.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Hyuuga-san!”

Wait. What are they talking about? When did Minato get so close to the other guy? Just a second ago, he was at Zenitsu’s side. Now, he’s right in front of the Hyuuga hottie.

“Nonsense. You are part of the team now. There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Please call me Kosuke.” Reaching into his weapons pouch, he pulls out a small box. “Here, for your fuinjutsu.”

Minato’s ears burn a bright red and his sound flutters - it fucking flutters like a sweet butterfly’s wings. Oh! Oooooh!!! His little brother is taking another step towards manhood, and right before Zenitsu’s eyes!

But no… Hang on, back up! Minato likes men? What about Kushina? That poor girl. Zenitsu was so sure that Minato liked her back. Well… Okay… Around Kushina, Minato is not nervous and flustered, as expected from a young man with a crush. But he seemed more at ease, more grounded - standing straight and steady on his feet. And Minato’s sound would sing in harmony with hers. Zenitsu has only seen such an effect once before, in his old life, when he watched the Serpent Hashira work with the Love Hashira.

This didn’t make any sense.

“High-quality ink! Hyuuga-san - I mean, Kosuke-san, thank you!”

“Think nothing of it. I fully expect you to save my life with that ink. So in a way, I gave myself a present.” Hyuuga Kosuke smiles, emphasizing the cut of his jaw, as his silky, black bangs artfully fall over his brow

Zenitsu’s heart jumps at the sight. Oh fuck. The guy really is so hot. That’s just unfair. As much as he adores Kushina, the girl is going through puberty - among other things. She’s already pretty presently, of course. But a budding blossom can’t compare to a flower in full bloom. Minato would go for an older guy. His prodigious poise is wasted on his peers.

Ah… Aaaaah… Can his heart break on Kushina’s behalf? He certainly feels heart broken. Or perhaps, the reminder of time’s ruthless march - yet another sign that his little brother is not going to stay little for much longer - perhaps, this hurts more than he would like to admit.

“-theories from Orochimaru-san’s notes.”

“Hopefully, your work will be field ready by our next mission, which could be soon. Lord Danzo has assigned a substitute member for our team.”

“Wait!” Zenitsu cries out, leaping to his feet. “You’re leaving already? But - But -!”

Hyuuga Kosuke raises an eyebrow, acknowledging Zenitsu for the first time. Minato winces, as his pulse picks up a rabbit-fast pace.

“Ah, um, yes. Please, uh… Let me - Let me introduce you. To my big brother, that is. Ahem. Namikaze Zen-nii. I mean. Zenitsu.”

That was painful to hear. Zenitsu marches over, staring straight at Hyuuga Kosuke. He doesn’t bother to bow. “Yeah, yeah, I’m No-Good Zen-Zen, this kid’s big brother. What were you saying? About a new mission?”

Somehow, Minato’s heart rate spikes even more. Zenitsu glances at him, frowning. That doesn’t seem healthy. Minato catches his gaze and abruptly turns away from him.

“It’s a new development. Lord Danzo can be demanding, as I’m sure you’ve heard,” Hyuuga Kosuke explains, tilting his chin up so he can look down at Zenitsu, literally.

Fucking ikemen. Why are they always such assholes? Do they have pretty faces to cover up their shitty personalities? Is that it?

“I hear a lot of things. I’ve got good ears.” Zenitsu crosses his arms. “What’s the deal with Danzo anyways? Surely, someone else can complete these missions.”

Minato bites back a groan and Zenitsu sincerely wonders if someone can have a heart attack from sheer anxiety. Zenitsu never had one and he would know a lot about anxiety. But Minato might just teach him something new.

“I cannot speak for the man.” Hyuuga Kosuke shuts his eyes briefly. “I only wished to offer a courtesy to my teammate. If Lord Danzo tells us to leave before dawn, then we should’ve left yesterday. With that said, I fully expect a new mission soon - perhaps at a later hour today or even right this second. Accordingly, we must be ready to leave at any given moment.”

Zenitsu frowns, startled by the sincerity in Hyuuga Kosuke’s voice. The man may not have the highest opinion of Zenitsu - and for no reason! As expected of a snooty bastard. But he is, in his way, looking out for Minato. He did give a birthday present to his little brother. Huh.

“Well…” Zenitsu murmurs, searching for something nicer to say. “I’m sorry to hear about your injured teammate.”

Now, Minato glances at him. In the same way Zenitsu listens to Minato’s sound, Minato is observing Zenitsu’s chakra. And everyone knows that Zenitsu has piss-poor control of his chakra. Minato must be reading him like an open book. Since his heart starts to slow down, and his sound starts to even out, he seems to have seen something good.

Hyuuga Kosuke snorts and smirks. “Not as sorry as she is. Minato saved her from a trap.”

“Did he now?”

Whoops. Minato’s heart just fully skipped a beat.

“Your brother may just be the best of us. In all our missions together, he’s suffered little more than a scratch. It’s impressive to the point of improbability. And yet…”

“He’s always had a knack for surprising people. You know, one time -”

“That’s a long story, Zen-nii, maybe you can tell him some other time,” Minato cuts in like a heated knife through butter. “Thank you again for the gift, Hyuuga-san, I mean, Kosuke-san. We’d best get going, yes? Yes.”

Without letting Zenitsu say another word, Minato grabs his arm and drags him off the roof. He keeps an iron-tight grip on Zenitsu as they dash through the streets, heading back to their flat. Despite Zenitsu’s loud protests and pleas to slow down, Minato stubbornly does not. What’s his fucking problem?

Before the door fully closes behind them, Zenitsu yanks himself away from Minato. “Alright, you -”

“I’m sorry, Zen-nii,” Minato blurts out, sounding like a tidal wave that finally reached the shore. “I promise - I swear - I will tell you everything, every single thing. You will be the first to know. You will! I just… I just didn’t - I don’t…”

His little brother hangs his head, shoulders rising to box in his ears. He resembles a wilted stalk of wheat, beaten down by an unseen wind. And oh… Zenitsu’s shout dies a swift death in his throat. He sighs, dropping onto the genkan, kicking off his shoes.

“You know… I’m not expecting… You don’t have to be so perfect around me. You know that, right? Just tell me.”

There’s a noise like twisting flesh and bursting blood vessels. Zenitsu flinches, wondering if Minato injured himself somehow. That sounded painful. But his little brother appears perfectly healthy if slightly pale.

“... What if… What if you hate me?”

Zenitsu blinks, jaw hanging open. Seriously? What in the world? Where is this coming from? So, Minato likes men. That’s not a big deal. Did Zenitsu ever make a big deal out of it?

…

Maybe. He might have. Honestly, he’s not sure. He spoke about hating pretty men, and he always denied liking men that way. But those were jokes! They were just teasing each other! He never… He never really… How was he supposed to know his brother was like that? Minato was in love with Kushina, or so he thought.

Zenitsu groans, pulling a hand down his face and falling back to lie on the floor. “It’s… I thought… I don’t understand. I guess… I didn’t know you as well as I thought. That’s on me.”

The sound of a blade sinking into meat echoes out of Minato. Zenitsu snaps his head up, watching as blood drips down Minato’s chin.

“Aaah! What’s wrong? What’s happening? Are you dying? Holy shit!” Zenitsu lunges forward, grabbing hold of Minato’s face.

His little brother shrugs him off, sidestepping away. “No, no, it’s fine! I just - I bit my lip too hard. Look! It’s not a big deal.”

Minato points to his mouth and sure enough, there’s a set of perfect teeth marks on his bottom lip. It's harmless enough of an injury, except… There was no reason for it. His little brother should not be hurt right now, right here, in the heart of their home.

Yet, he is. He is and Zenitsu can’t explain the cause. Minato washes up at the kitchen sink, and they continue through the day as best they can. Zenitsu wants to soothe his little brother but Minato pastes on a polite smile and insists that everything is fine. He’s lying. He knows that he’s lying. He knows that he knows that he’s lying.

Zenitsu wants to grab Minato by the shoulders and shake him real hard. But he already fucked up somehow. If he keeps pushing, he’ll just fuck up even more. So…

They eat. They sleep. Minato packs his bag. Around midnight, someone knocks on their door and Minato leaves with them. Zenitsu lets him. Zenitsu lays on his side, facing the wall, watching his brother’s shadow as he greets his teammates. And when did Minato get a new team? He mentioned them before, maybe a few times. He may have implied that they ran multiple missions together. But he never said anything about Hyuuga Kosuke.

Zenitsu doesn’t get a chance to dwell on Minato’s strange, secretive behavior. After a couple days pass, just enough time for him to feel less like a piece of shit, a hawk bursts through the window. The feathery bastard lands on his head, starts pulling on his hair, then brings him kicking and screaming to the Hokage tower for his new mission. Heavens above, he misses his little Chuntaro. That feathery bastard was too small to hurt him.

Despite his earlier protests, when he learns his destination, he falls silent and obediently accepts the assignment. On that day, the Hokage tower was evacuated for a suspected gas leak because Zenitsu would never quietly cooperate unless he was suffering from acute carbon monoxide poisoning. And they wouldn’t be wrong, but he can make exceptions.

So they send him to Kumo, and before the chaos wraps up - when everyone can go back to work, Zenitsu is already at the Fire Country border. Maybe Minato was right. Maybe he is getting faster. Huh. Well, alright then.

He arrives at the fort long before they expected to see him. The twitchy guards try to stab him when he shows up at midnight. They couldn’t, of course, not even close. From his perspective, they moved in slow motion, and he easily rushed past their flying blades. Someone smart decides to pull the alarm, waking everyone.

Zenitsu ignores that and focuses on the only sound that matters to him - a gong-like pulse, a cavernous hum. Unlike everyone else, this sound barely shifts at the blaring, booming alarm. Actually, Zenitsu hears him sigh - annoyed and resigned. Rude. They haven’t spoken and already Kinoko is tired of their conversation. Tch. Some things never change.

He’s distantly aware of the chaos unfolding around him. Shinobi summon water to douse the trail of fire caused by the lightning sparks in his step. A few enterprising folks flail at him, hoping to land a hit. There’s no killer intent to accompany their attacks - just pure panic - a reflex really, like a spooked horse kicking. Honestly, he’s seen horses faster than these guys. So with ease, he dips, dives, and ducks his way through the crowd.

Skidding to a stop, Zenitsu arrives at a warehouse-like building. He waits for a second - one whole second - seriously, people can be so slow. Then the big, double doors bang open, revealing a cranky Kinoko.

“Zen, the fuck man? Why can’t you ever -”

At the age of fourteen-turning-fifteen, Kinoko’s Akimichi bloodline is now obvious to anyone. Zenitsu can comfortably sit on Kinoko’s shoulder with room for a plus one. So Zenitsu launches forward, and easily wraps his arms - his legs around Kinoko’s head.

“Minato hates meeeeeeeeee!!” He screeches.

Enlarging a hand, Kinoko roughly pulls him off like a spatula scraping out grease. “What are you -”

Zenitsu zooms back to Kinoko the way static clings to skin.

Kinoko’s second sigh is slightly muffled by Zenitsu’s belly. “Fine, fine. Let’s hear it.”

With some creative maneuvering, Kinoko manages to bring them somewhere a little more enclosed and not the open courtyard. As they leave, several shinobi start whispering behind them as someone smarter kills the alarm.

“He just stormed into the most fortified base on the Kumo border, like it was nothing.”

“Yeah, Namikaze does that.”

“And he’s a chuunin?”

“By choice.”

“... What?!?”

“Is he new?” A familiar voice asks.

“Transferred in yesterday,” Kinoko grunts, shifting Zenitsu to lie over his shoulder.

From this position, Zenitsu could clearly see a young man, maybe a year older than him, with dark skin and white hair. The young man wears an easy smirk and the standard, armored vest, which emphasized the broad build of his body. He glances at the whispering shinobi and shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“Hey, Dekai,” Zenitsu nods at him.

Dekai nods back. “Hey, Zen. You’re early, as usual. I can take the package to the Captain, if you want.”

“Please and thank you!” Zenitsu taps his weapons pouch, activating the seal (made by Minato), and grabbing hold of a humble, paper-wrapped packet. He tosses this to Dekai.

As Dekai vanishes with a swirl of dust, Kinoko and Zenitsu are finally left alone. Zenitsu proceeds to puke out everything that happened between him and Minato. Kinoko settles down and listens carefully because deep inside that big, barrel-sized chest, Kinoko keeps a kind heart. Like a storm passing, Zenitsu’s cries slow to a hiccuping stop, rubbing a wet mixture of facial fluids all over his sleeves and Kinoko’s shirt. Kinoko sighs for the third time.

“Okay, so… I fail to see the problem,” Kinoko says with a shake of his shaved head.

“I just thought - I just thought, you know, because he liked Kushina so much… Or I guess… I thought that he liked her. But I was wrong, somehow,” Zenitsu blubbers snottily. “Because he likes men!”

“He can like both men and women. You know that, right? You like both.”

“I…” The words strike through his skull, ringing his brain like a cathedral bell. “... Oh.”

For once, Kinoko opens his eyes fully, and peers closely at Zenitsu. “Have you never liked men?”

Zenitsu does not reply. He does not think about past lives. He does not think about strong shoulders and biceps the size of his head. He barely remembers his old life, at least not the life after Muzan. He only has vague impressions of happy, blissful days with lots of laughter and love. He could have married a man. Uzui would be the kind of ghost to not tell him that they were married. What a prick.

Or he could have married Tanjiro or Inosuke. He hasn’t met either in his dreams. Hopefully, that means they’re wonderfully at peace, with better things to do than visit him in this miserable place.

His partial amnesia is in some ways a boon. It might also be self-inflicted. If he tried - if he really concentrated, he could probably pull out his lost memories. But that’s just an exercise in misery and Zenitsu is certain that his last spouse would never want that for him.

Maybe he did marry Nezuko-chan. Maybe she sealed his memories. That sounds like something she would do, if she could. She never insisted on sorrow, especially for consequences beyond control. She wouldn’t want Zenitsu to dwell in misery, constantly comparing his present to his past. It’s best to secure that box of happiness, after all.

Since Zenitsu stopped speaking, Kinoko shuffles back to his bed and starts to snore within seconds. Zenitsu is barely aware of this as his thoughts twist and flip and knot. Does he like men? Maybe. No. Yes. Very much yes. He might have married one in a different life. Does he like women? Without a doubt. With the passion of a thousand shining suns. Does he like both? Fuck.

He has to let Minato know. He’s the big brother. Acting as a role model is basically his whole job. So he will tell Minato all about his boy-crushes and all the ways a man’s laugh turns his insides into goo. He will be honest. He will be confident. And Minato will see that there is no way in this world or any world - there is no possibility of him hating his little brother.

Then they could put this whole thing behind them.

Zenitsu should go now. What is he waiting for? Minato is out there and upset over nothing! He has to tell him now. If he can save him just a second of suffering, he would. Why wouldn’t he? Why not go?

So he does. Technically, he’s supposed to wait for the Fort Captain’s dismissal. But what are they gonna do? Suspend him? That’s not a threat, that’s incentive. He doesn’t even say goodbye to Kinoko. He just leaves.

He pays for this impulsive decision with every step. He's already ran full sprint to the Kumo border and he didn't stop at the fort to rest before hitting the road again. He should set up camp, get some sleep, and finish the journey tomorrow. He wants to - he really wants to. He doesn't. He grits his teeth and digs in deep. His aching thighs are less important than his little brother. He has to speak with Minato. He has to set the story straight... or maybe not straight? Argh!

But when he sees Konoha’s walls, he doesn't hear Minato’s sound within the village. Oh no. He forgot. Their schedule is totally out of sync. They celebrated their fourteenth birthday almost six months late because they're rarely in the village at the same time. He ran so fast, for so long, for no good reason. That's just so stupidly unfair. His vision is actually turning black with rage. Oh wait, no-

Hours later, about a kilometer from the gate, a patrol unit finds an unconscious Zenitsu on the ground. There's controlled chaos and restrained panic as orders fly and a med team is summoned. But then, Zenitsu wheezes out a rumbling snore and all emergency protocols are cancelled. The bastard fucking fell asleep on the road. Who does that?

The patrol captain reaches over to slap him awake but Zenitsu catches her wrist before her strike could come close to landing. He lets go when she pulls away but whenever she tries again, despite her fastest attempts, he's always simply faster. Finally, she just screams directly in his ear and that rockets him back to consciousness. He whines at her cruel ways and she shoves him towards the village.

He makes it through the gates, up to his apartment, where he sleeps through two more nights until his angry, empty stomach wakes him up. Then, he gets a hawk from the Hokage tower because he didn't report in upon return like he's supposed to. When Zenitsu finally shows his face to mission desk, he also gets reprimanded for leaving the fort without authorized permission. He's in trouble twice over and the Hokage's sound (the sharp sting of a badly played koto) silences any protests out of him.

He's relegated to unpaid D-ranks for a month - hard D-ranks too. He has to till acres of farmland, deliver carts of concrete blocks, and babysit Academy Students during their survival training. That last one is particularly despicable because kids know so many ways to kill themselves and they will try every single one.

After the month is over, Minato has yet to return but Zenitsu wants to leave the village before they stick more D-ranks on him. So, he grabs the first B-rank courier mission and he's out. The next four to five months follow a familiar pattern. Whenever Zenitsu is in the village, Minato isn't. Whenever Minato is in the village, Zenitsu isn't. Mid-way through month five, a terrible thought strikes Zenitsu.

What if it's not the village conspiring to keep them apart? What if Minato is avoiding him? Does his little brother believe that Zenitsu hates... gay people? Is that it? Is that what's happening?? No, no, no!

Right before Zenitsu could fully meltdown and try something drastic, the heavens or some other cosmic force gives him a break. It's given after another courier mission, this time from the Suna border. He hates staying at the fort there because sand! It gets everywhere! So he begged the commanding officer to authorize his early departure, then zoomed towards Fire Country territories.

As a reward for such a speedy return, he hears Minato! In the village! His little brother seems happy and healthy. There’s firecracker-pops in his sound, so he’s likely sparring with someone. As Zenitsu enters the gates - properly without bypassing the gate guards, he could pick up the smooth baritone of Hyuuga Kosuke’s voice, shouting instructions at Minato. Well, they seem to be hard at work. Zenitsu can wait for Minato at their flat.

It’s for the best because the second Zenitsu closes the door behind him, exhaustion seizes his whole body. His stamina may have improved but he's been running back to back courier missions. He wasn't even unwilling through most of those. It was easier to deal with Minato's absence (and possible hatred of him) when he was running for his life. So he ran everywhere from Suna to Kumo to Kusa to Kiri and back. And now... He's dead on his feet. Exhaustion defines his entire existence right now.

Stumbling forward, he reaches the dining table and collapses onto the chair. Oh his legs hurt. His legs are on fire, actually. He groans, shifting to the side so he could lay his head on the table. He can’t stay upright for another - Ow! What the hell?

Zenitsu jerks back, rubbing his brow. He finds a mask on his dining table. The mask appears to be made from a lightweight ceramic, durable without stifling the wearer. It was mostly white, lightly varnished, with elegant red and blue lines that imply the image of an owl. It even had a sort of crest-shape at the top the way some owls do.

He is looking at an ANBU mask. This is an ANBU mask. There is an ANBU mask on his table.

Zenitsu picks it up. He doesn’t think. He doesn’t let himself think. He simply grabs and holds it up. The mask is the perfect size for his face - for the face of a growing boy at fourteen years old. He turns it around, bringing it closer, almost as if to put it on.

There’s a strand of hair caught on the mask’s edge, right by its crest. It’s colored a hue that he had long since seared into his memory. Even if he went blind this very second, he would remember this yellow to his dying day.

Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.

Zenitsu fucked up. Of course, he did. This was inevitable. And at last, Konoha has their claws around his little brother.

==>

Chapter Text

“So… this whole time… You were freaking out because you joined ANBU without telling me, not because you like men.”

“Yes. Also, why would I worry about liking men? You like men.”

“I - Yes, okay. I do like men. But you don’t have to say it like that. I’m… adjusting to the idea.”

“Wait, you didn’t know?”

“Okay, smartass! When did you know that you liked men? And how come you never told me?”

“I didn’t realize that you had to tell people when you like men. People don’t go around saying they like women.”

“Well… Not exactly… Women do.”

“Women have to say that they like women?”

“I mean… kinda? Not like they have to, but you know like… if they wanted company…”

“But men don’t.”

“Well… No.”

“Do women have to say they like men too?”

“... No.”

“That seems… arbitrary. So I have to say I like men but women don’t and women have to say they - oh. It matters if you like the same sex!”

“For a genius, this is really taking you longer than it should.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one going around and liking men then not saying so. In fact, you frequently denied it. How was I supposed to know that I should’ve told you?”

“Yes! Okay! Big Bro Zenitsu was a bad role model. Leave me alone. Let’s go back to the whole - when did you start liking men?”

“Hmmm… I guess… Remember when Kinoko’s voice started cracking? And he got like a really deep voice? Yeah…”

“... Minato, that was two years ago.”

“Yes.”

“And Kinoko? Really?”

Minato gives him a tired look as if Zenitsu was acting difficult on purpose. He wasn’t, actually. He really wasn’t! Put that squint away!

“Yes, Kinoko. Why wouldn’t it be Kinoko? The Akimichi clan has the handsomest clanfolk in all of Konoha. Everyone knows that.”

“... No. They don’t.”

“What?”

“People don’t think that. Most believe that the Uchiha and the Hyuuga have the most attractive clansfolk. What the -”

“Are people blind?”

“... I am learning more about you than I ever thought I needed to know.”

“That’s good, because now I’m confused.”

“No, no, no. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing wrong. You’re perfect.”

“Zen-nii…”

“What? I’m really not making fun of you or anything. I just… You gave me a lot to think about just now.”

“... Okay. I guess…”

“Does Kinoko know about it?”

“I didn’t tell him. I didn’t know that I was supposed to, remember?”

“But I mean like… Did you want to date him?”

“Umm, no? Do you have to date everyone that you find handsome? Well, I guess you do ask every woman for her hand in marriage… Should I send Kinoko -”

“No, no, no! Again! Your Zen-nii is a bad role model. Don’t go around telling every guy you like him, okay?”

“But you do that with -”

“I was bad! That was bad! Do as I say, not as I do. Got it?”

“No.”

“Tough. But so… You’re supposed to court someone that you see yourself spending your whole life with. There’s a really special feeling that you get only for them. Do you feel that way for Kinoko?”

“Uhm… I guess not? How would I know that I feel a special way about only one person? What makes the feeling special? Am I supposed to compare and contrast all my feelings about people? Should I start making a chart now?”

“You would make a chart.” Zenitsu sighs. “It’s… It’s hard to explain. It’s like describing color to someone who never opened their eyes before. You just have to learn through experience. I… For me… It was…”

Zenitsu starts humming.

“Wow,” Minato breathes out. “That was beautiful but also kinda sad?”

“Yeah… I think… Your heart breaks a little when you first feel it.”

“Why?”

“I think… I think when it happens. You’ll know.”

“What if I never feel it? What if I don’t know that I’m feeling it? How can I be sure?”

“You’re not sure now?”

“Yes!”

“Hmmm… Then I guess… You’ll never be sure. Until you are.”

“What?? What does that mean?! Zen-nii, you’re messing with me!”

“I’m not! Life’s like that sometimes! No one can give you the answers - not even me. This stuff - it’s all up to you.”

“... Can I at least get a hint?”

“No. Now go to sleep. We don’t want Nurse Nara to get mad at us again.”

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Kinoko can't stop laughing. He loves - he fucking loves his teammates.

"Kiddo, I gotta say... That's creepy." Sensei shakes his head.

Zenitsu snaps. "Oh, you watch women undress through a telescope, and I'm creepy?"

Minato squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Zen-nii, you sewed a doll replica of Kushina."

"And? Doesn't the doll look just like her? Look, you can barely see the stitches! I'm that good!"

Kinoko catches his breath. Taking a leave of absence was such a good idea. He gets a chance to visit his folks, catch up with his cousins, and celebrate the Namikaze’s 15th birthday. Honestly, it’s a miracle that their team retains a reputation for prodigal skills. In reality, their IQ takes a collective dive whenever they get together.

Minato sighs. "Why... Just why?"

"Whaddya mean why?! For our birthday obviously! Happy fucking birthday, you ungrateful little brother!"

It's the last day of January, at the last hour of daylight, and snow gently falls from the sky. The streets empty out as the temperature drops and everyone rushes to find shelter. Team Seven is spared from such trouble - already seated in their favored yakiniku shop, warm and cozy in front of a sizzling grill.

"Why would I need a Kushina doll?" Minato asks, slapping the table.

"For company! You’re going to Toad Mountain -"

“Mt. Myoboku,” Sensei corrects.

“- to train with a bunch of toads! You’ll get lonely!” Zenitsu announces with admirable confidence.

“I… Okay, ignoring the implications of that... Let’s focus on the fact that I never liked dolls. More importantly, there’s no reason for the doll - this doll - any doll to look like that.”

“Well, obviously, you’re going to need practice! And to practice, you need a target.”

Kinoko erupts with laughter again. Oh! Oh. His stomach hurts. It's too much! Sage above...

Minato smacks his forehead with an open palm. "I actually don't want to know. But I can't not know." He looks at Kushina’s face, rendered in fabric and thread. Then he looks at Zenitsu, with a single brow twitching. "And what, pray tell, am I supposed to practice?"

"Your lines, duh! So you can finally score a date with Kushina!"

"What lines?!"

Sensei rubs his chin. "The logic is sound."

Kinoko wheezes out a last laugh, wiping tears from his eyes. He reaches for his cooled tea and drinks it all in a single swig.

"Jiraiya-sensei! Don't encourage him!"

"But if you want practice, then you're better off asking an Intel agent for help. They practice seduction techniques all the time." Sensei flips his hair. "Not everyone can be a natural flirt like me."

Kinoko shares a look with both of his teammates. In sync, they shake their heads. Sage above, he has missed them so much.

"I'm talking about pick-up lines, dumbass," Zenitsu explains. Then he holds up the Kushina doll, lifting its hand to wave at Minato. "Look, just try one! Maybe talk about her long, beautiful hair.”

"Oi! Didn't you brats hear a word that I just said?"

"I would rather die," Minato says plainly.

Zenitsu rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic! Here, I'll start..." Then he raises the doll higher and speaks with a falsetto voice. "Oh Minato-kun! You're so smart and handsome! I could get lost in your bright blue eyes!"

The doorbell rings as more people enter the yakiniku shop.

"Kushina would never say that!"

The newcomers look chilled to the bone, huddling close as they walk further in.

"And what would she say?"

Minato twists his whole face into a severe scowl. "She would say -"

"Is that doll supposed to be me?!"

Minato tries to leap from his seat and bangs his knees against the table. It sounded painful but he doesn't seem hurt as he turns to look behind him.

Kushina stands in the aisle between tables, with a bemused Mikoto behind her. Kinoko had watched them come in since he had such a lovely view of the entrance. So did Sensei. And he knows that Zenitsu must have heard them because he hears everything. Only poor Minato had no idea.

"Ku-Kushina?!" Minato squeaks out. "What are you doing here?"

Sensei sits back, watching everyone like they were a mildly amusing movie. He's such a dick, honestly. Kinoko copies him, but he keeps one eye on the cooking beef.

Kushina plants her hands on her hips. "Zen-teme invited us. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

"What.”

Mikoto cups her cheek with a hand. "Ara, the doll certainly captures Kushina’s likeness.”

Zenitsu puffs up with pride."Right? I'm a really good seamstress."

Kinoko snorts. Sage help his teammate. Zenitsu doesn't have a lick of common sense when he's around women.

A vein in Kushina's forehead twitches. "You... made this?”

"As a birthday gift for Minato," Zenitsu happily tells her.

Minato raises both his hands. "Hey, no. I had nothing to do with this! I wanted new kunai!"

Zenitsu frowns at Minato. "Don't say that! Her sound just got worse!" He turns to Kushina. "Ignore my stupid baby brother. Of course, he wanted a Kushina doll! Who wouldn't want a likeness of your beauty?"

Oh, the beef's done. And Kushina's done too. Her face just colored a bright, furious red to match her hair. She cracks her knuckles.

Zenitsu blinks. "Eh? What's wrong, Kushina-chan? Is the doll not pretty enough?"

Minato is slowly sliding down his seat to hide under the table.

Sensei starts laughing as Kinoko grabs the grilled meat and his plate.

"YOU PERVERSE IDIOTS!"

The table gets flipped. Charcoal and chopsticks go flying. Kushina snatches Minato's collar and the front of Zenitsu's shirt. The twins start wailing.

"Why me?? I had nothing to do with this!!"

"I'm sorry, Kushina-chan! I don't know what my brother did! But I'm sorry!"

Kinoko happily slurps the juicy barbecue sauces. His team may get banned from this shop, so its best to savor as much as he can.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Mikoto asks.

Sensei grins at her. "Yanno, it's not me for once. I'm just happy to watch."

And that's that. Happy Birthday Zenitsu. Happy Birthday Minato.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Sissy boy’s Sending Off party is in full swing. Thanks to Mikoto-chan, Kushina graciously stopped her rampage with a promise to beat them stupid some other time. So, they didn’t get kicked out of the shop and now, everyone’s here. Yippee.

For fuck’s sake, did Zen-teme invite the whole village? There’s way too many people. She barely knows anyone - maybe oof!

Surrounded on all sides, Kushina smacks boob-first into someone. She hisses, rubbing her chest. There ain’t much meat on these girlies but they’re growing so they’re extra sore. Even the guy’s thick-as-fuck jacket didn’t save her from the pain. And why the hell is anyone still wearing their jacket? They’re inside a barbecue restaurant. Do they want a heat stroke in the middle of winter?

“Watch where you’re going!” The guy grumbles.

Except, that didn’t sound like a guy. That sounded way too familiar. Before the “guy” could walk away, Kushina grabs hold of the jacket’s hood and yanks hard.

She finds herself facing a truly pissed Tsume. Her ex-teammate steps forward, destroying any space between them - any chance to walk away.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

Kushina doesn’t want to fight. She really doesn’t. But the second she saw Tsume’s face, her mind went blank. It’s the same eerie hush that she gets in the middle of really intense combat. She feels almost detached from her body.

“I…”

“You just go around, pulling people’s clothes off? The fuck is wrong with you?”

A snarl erupts from Kushina’s lips. “Your stupid jacket was in my way. How’s anyone supposed to avoid you when you’re taking up all the space?”

“That doesn’t make any damn sense!”

“To you! Since you can’t see fuck all with that hood on!”

Kushina solidly shoves Tsume back. She stumbles a step before catching herself and baring her teeth at Kushina. Bystanders and onlookers quickly move away, forming a ring around the two of them - just two. Tsume is all alone, no hulking hound at her side.

“It don’t matter what I can’t see,” Tsume barks back. “Anyone would smell a cunt when they’re near one.”

“Why are you even here? Didn’t you read the sign? No dogs allowed inside.” Kushina spits out a laugh. “Oh wait, that’s right. Bitches can’t read.”

“I was invited. Unlike some people, I didn’t suck the birthday boy’s dick for an invite.”

Kushina doesn’t remember if she lunged first, or if Tsume did. Either way, hands grab her and pull her away. Bodies block her view of Tsume as she’s herded to some dark, discreet corner.

Breathing heavily, she looks up at Mikoto. The older girl doesn’t have her Sharingan out, but it’s close. Kushina can feel the chakra sitting right behind Mikoto’s irises, hot and ready.

Somewhere inside the shop, she can hear Yoshino’s voice. She’s shouting at the crowd, telling them to move along - there ain’t nothing to see here. Good ol’ reliable Yoshino. Complementing her higher pitch, Kushina hears a deep baritone speaking to the Namikazes. A quick chakra check identifies him as the Nara heir, Shikaku.

This makes sense since Akimichi Chouza is currently standing at Mikoto’s side. So the whole Ino-Shika-Cho team must be here. Great. Just fucking great. The Namikazes officially have way too many friends.

“Kushina… I take my eyes off you for five minutes and you get into another fight.”

“Tsume’s crazy! I didn’t do shit!”

Mikoto sighs, shaking her head. “Love, you know that discretion is the better part of valor.”

Kushina rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. You want me to walk away? Then watch closely.”

Spinning on her heel, she dives back into the crowd. She senses a familiar chakra signature quickly approaching her. Of course. Stupid Sissy boy gotta stick his nose in everyone’s business. She’s about to use one of her camouflage seals when someone blocks Sissy boy’s path. He stops, his chakra flickering like light filtered through water. She keeps going, almost at the exit. She doesn’t look back when Sissy boy turns around and walks away. She doesn’t hesitate when no one stops her as she slips out the door.

A winter wind slaps Kushina’s face. She wipes the frost from her eyes and stomps through the ankle-high snow. Aw fuck. She forgot her jacket. Tucking her chin down, she pushes on - without any destination in mind, just away from here.

Sage, she cannot wait for summer. She’s sooo not a winter girl. She was born on an island, with rock-studded beaches and steep, severe cliffs. They had winters, sure, but never for very long - at least half the length of winters in Konoha. The snow always melted quickly, leaving behind puddles and mud, which was honestly annoying. But she never had to fucking slog her way through a blizzard.

And she never had to worry about stupid stalkers. Honestly, this fool is inventing a brand new level of idiocy, trying to catch an Uzumaki sleep walking. She ain’t Zen-teme. She knew that he’s been right behind her the whole time.

Kushina had put some decent distance between herself and the shop. The whole street is empty since everyone is sheltering from the snowstorm. She could yell for help… If she was a pussy.

Idly, she charged the camouflage seals with her chakra, subtly changing the array to improvise a new formula. A scrub would need ink and a brush to do this. Not her. She is Uzumaki Sage-damned Kushina, and she is The Fuuinjutsu Master.

Whipping around, with the seal stuck between her fingers, Kushina faces her stalker. “Hey buddy, we got a problem?”

Akimichi Chouza blinks slowly. “No, miss.”

“Then what’s yer damage, huh? You just follow around girls when they’re out walking at night?”

“No, miss.” He speaks with such an even, rumbling tone - completely at ease. “I just wanted to keep’n eye on you.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“You seemed… upset.”

Kushina squints at him. “Right, well I sure am soothed to have a stranger stalking me.”

“I… Hmm...” Chouza rubs the back of his head. “I didn’t mean… I was worried ‘bout you.”

“And? I’m not yer fucking problem! How’d you feel if some total rando messed with yer business? Huh? Fucking creep.”

“I…” Chouza pauses, breathing out. “...I should’ve called out earlier. Said sumthin’. Checked in with you first.”

“Yer damn right. So yer not a total idiot.”

Chouza’s mild expression pinches a little. “I… Yeah… Well, I totally beefed that…” Then he clears his throat. “So, uh… I’ll leave you alone now. Sorry, miss.”

It’s cold out. Her tiny titties are fucking freezing. She’s about to have boobsicles in a minute. With the street lacking any life, with all the shop windows shut tight, everything seems so much bigger. The road seems wider. The buildings seem taller. Shadows seem to stretch like a dark shroud searching for a corpse to cover.

In comparison, Akimichi Chouza seems small. And he is not, by any means, a small guy. He is in fact an exemplary heir to his bloodline - nearing twice Kushina’s height, and triple her weight. Yet, there’s something delicate in the slight curve of his shoulders - just the faintest bend in his long spine… Kushina sighs.

“Buddy, pal, my guy… We really should work on your social skills…”

Chouza stops, shifting to look at her. “I already said sorry. Isn’t that-”

Kushina cuts him off by darting forward. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch. His hands automatically form fists and she can sense the way his chakra pulls in tight, like a bowstring ready to fire. He could lay her out like a picnic blanket with a single hit. But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t lash out. All that power is neatly trapped under his skin, fully under control. Kushina feels a flush bloom across her cheeks.

“You came out here for me? There’s a whole-ass party over there. Or do you not like barbecue?”

Chouza shakes his head. “No. I love barbecue.”

“So why?”

Now closer, she could feel a difference in the air. The law of thermodynamics states that heat seeks cooler temperatures to reach some sort of equilibrium. As such, human bodies rapidly lose heat because their puny selves are trying to warm up the whole world. Kushina thinks that Chouza actually could - for real, just standing at his side is enough to lessen the chill.

“Like I said… I was worried.”

Kushina shuffles away before she does something unspeakable, like press herself against Chouza just to leech off his warmth.

“Are you saying that I can’t handle myself?”

“It’s the Akimichi code. No comrade gets left behind or forgotten, ‘specially if they’re hurtin’.”

“Who’s hurt?” She asks, tilting her chin up to look at him directly.

Chouza matches her look with a careful, considering gaze. His eyes are a warm shade of brown - the color of rich soil, perfect for planting.

Kushina clicks her tongue, spins on her heel, and starts marching away. “You like ramen?”

There’s a second of silence, before he starts to follow her. He really moves quietly - not a single crunch from the snow.

“I do. I don’t wanna make you uncomf’table.”

She throws him a sneer over her shoulder. “Worse men have tried.”

Chouza blinks at her. “Well, that’s not right.”

Kushina simply shrugs and faces forward again. “If you want me comfortable, then let’s get outta this cold.”

Chouza moves closer and then something heavy drapes across her shoulders. She flinches and snaps her head up, hands flying to catch the collar of a massive coat.

“Fuckin’ hell, did I ask? We literally just talked about this!” Kushina hisses.

Chouza winces. “Oops… I didn’t think…”

“Damn right you didn’t! Like yeah, I’m skinny, but I’m not your coat rack!”

“... figured that I run hotter than you.” Chouza shrugs. “It’s a waste a resources for me to wear that. But you’re right, I didn’t check with you… I can…” He reaches for the coat.

Kushina picks up her pace, dodging his outstretched hand. Chouza raises an eyebrow.

“If yer dumb enough to give a stranger yer coat, then don’t expect to just get it back.”

A smirk twitches on his mouth, only for a single second before he recovers his politely stoic expression. “That’s fair enough…”

“So. Resources, huh?” Kushina faces forward, searching his chakra for a hint of pity or mockery. But there’s none - only solemn serenity. “What’s up with that? Is it all about logistics for you?”

“That is actually the Akimichi specialty.”

Kushina glances at him. “Yer kidding.”

Chouza grins, the spark of mischief lighting up his whole face. “When we’re talkin’ ‘bout the restaurant industry and food service, it’s all spreadsheets and timetables. What crops are harvested when? Who brings what to where? How much time for prep? How long does shippin’ take?” He taps the side of his nose. “The Yamanaka and the Nara are known for their strategic minds but mostly in terms of combat. Neither clan would know the business end of a ledger if they saw one.”

“Genius level intellect but zero common sense?”

“More or less.”

Kushina snorts. “Yeah, that tracks.”

Something shifts between them, like a wheel finding its groove. Tension melts out of their muscles - shoulders dropping, limbs loosening, and Kushina keeps the coat on. They wander through the vacated streets, trading jokes and stories, until they find a small izakaya - a real hole in the wall - with lights on.

“Welcome - oh! Kushina-chan! And Chouza-kun! Come in, come in! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Old man Teuchi! Izzat you?” Kushina rushes to the counter. “I didn’t know that you work here!”

“Old man? I’m only twenty-two!”

“Yeah, you’re basically a middle-aged man.”

“For shinobi-folk, maybe. But I am one of the humble, common-folk. We age differently.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say old man.”

“Hello, Teuchi-san,” Chouza greets him, joining Kushina at the counter. “You work here? Didn’t I see you at the sushi shop in the east district?”

“Yep. I have a shift there tomorrow.”

“Huh. How many jobs ya got, Teuchi-ji?”

“Too many and not enough,” he winks at Kushina. “What can I getcha?”

Unfortunately, Teuchi-ji had no ramen to offer - not here at least. He promises that one day, he’ll open a ramen stand and she can have all the ramen she can eat. But today is not that day. He only has an assortment of snacks - small time stuff to keep the sake from hitting hard.

She and Chouza munch through a dozen side dishes. It’s not enough - not nearly enough. They need a proper meal, with rice and meat and maybe even miso soup if they’re feeling fancy. Kushina and Chouza share a look before standing up in sync.

“It’s getting late-”

“Thanks for the food-”

“-sankyuu, Teuchi-ji!”

“-we better head home.”

Teuchi-ji blinks, glancing at the empty plates. “Aaah, that wasn’t enough for ya. No, no - I can tell! I’ve been in the business long enough. It’s fine! It’s fine!”

Kushina offers a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of her neck. Chouza bows - a proper and polite bow. Despite the company he keeps, he is the heir to one of the Four Noble Clans. It shouldn’t surprise her to see him act with some decorum. So really, Kushina has no good reason to stare, tracing the measured curve of his back and the distinct shape of his bu-

“There you are!”

She nearly leaps out of her skin. What the hell. Someone got the drop on her? Uzumaki Mito’s one and only heir?! Years of intensive sensor training just went poof.

“Yoshino?” Kushina cries out, spinning around to face her ex-teammate.

Standing right outside the izakaya, Yoshino looks unimpressed as usual. Right behind her, Shikaku lurks, with a blunt between his teeth and smoke circling his head. He looks equally as unimpressed. A real pair, they make.

“You ran off!” Yoshino crosses her arms. “What’s up with that?”

Kushina scowls. “None of your business. We ain’t a team anymore, remember?”

Yoshino’s mouth twitches in time with her chakra. She breathes in deep through her nose, counts down from eight, then breathes out slow through her mouth.

“Listen… Last time was bad.”

“Tch. Which part? When that bitch called me a monster? Or when you agreed with her?”

“I didn’t agree! I just… I was thinking.”

“About the kind of monster I am?”

“No! Could you hear me out? Just give me a minute then you can fuck off.”

Sincerity sings from within Yoshino, in a way that’s novel from her. In all their years together, Kushina rarely sensed this much emotion from the other girl. Yoshino values her privacy, which is not easy to have around teammates with enhanced perception. She learned to mask better than most shinobi. Kushina would even bet that she masks better than some ANBU who wear literal masks. But there’s none of that now, here, face to face.

“... Fine.”

Yoshino manages a weak smile. “Okay, right. I… You should - I mean me, that is…”

Kushina raises an eyebrow. “Just fucking say it. Don’t act like shit could get worse between us.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Yoshino finally spits out. “I don’t want - I’m full on fed up with the fighting. I mean… You’ve got your shit to deal with, and that’s… I don’t need to know. Keep your secrets. We’re shinobi. I get it. I just…” She groans, dragging a hand down her face as she looks up and away from Kushina.

Shikaku rolls his eyes. “Women. Always overcomplicating shit.”

“Shut up, Shikaku,” Chouza speaks up before either Yoshino or Kushina could yell at him.

Shikaku outright flinches, clearly not expecting that from his friend, which silences his smart mouth. Kushina shares a look with Yoshino, both of them grudgingly impressed. And for a split second, they’re teammates again - sisters in arms, facing the world together.

Yoshino huffs. “Can we hang out like we used to?”

Kushina blinks. “You wanna hang out?”

“Yeah.” Yoshino squares her shoulders as if spoiling for a fight. “I miss you.” It’s a sentimental statement so naturally, she says it like a threat.

This fucking girl. Kushina misses her too.

Wrinkling her nose, Kushina scratches her cheek, as she looks off to the side. “... There’s this new move that I’m working on... It’s a long-range technique and I can’t aim worth a damn, yanno.”

“...You never could.”

Kushina rolls her eyes but allows a grin to cross her lips.

“What the fuck just happened?” Shikaku asks, as if he witnessed aliens speaking a different language. For a genius, he’s not very smart.

Kushina ignores him and steps up to Yoshino, looping their arms together. “What’s up with Tsume? She didn't take off her big ass jacket. It was boiling in there.”

“You caught her at a bad time.” Yoshino shakes her head. “She experienced a growth spurt recently, and well… Her shirts no longer fit.”

“Okay… What’s that gotta do with the jacket?”

“Assholes took notice of her growth - you know, assholes of the male persuasion.”

“Oh. Oh damn.”

“Mmhmm… Kuromaru keeps the worst away. But you know… Men.”

“Chouza, are you getting any of this?” Shikaku asks sourly, shuffling over to his friend.

“You can ask us,” Yoshino snaps at him. “We’re standing right in front of you.”

“Seriously. Why is this guy even here?” Kushina wrinkles her nose. “Is he stalking you? How do you even know each other?”

“I caught her trespassing on Nara land,” Shikaku answers. “She shot one of the stags.”

“I was hunting. It’s not my fault that your deer can’t dodge,” Yoshino sneers.

Shikaku’s whole face twists - half irritated, half amused. It’s strange to see on someone known for his bland, bored expressions.

Kushina swings Yoshino around, turning away from the boys, and whispers into her ear. “Am I crazy or does he have a crush on you?”

Yoshino answers with the smug smile of a nekomata. “You’re not crazy.”

“Giiiiiiirl,” Kushina replies with a theatrical gasp, playfully slapping Yoshino’s arm.

“So what’s the plan? Are we going back to the party?” Chouza asks.

“It was winding down when we left,” Yoshino tells them. “We should probably get outta the cold.”

“I dunno. I’m pretty warm.” Kushina wraps her coat tighter around her.

Yoshino raises an eyebrow before glancing at Chouza then back at Kushina.

“Imma head home,” Shikaku announces, yawning. “You crazy kids have fun.”

“Hear that?” Chouza smirks, slinging an arm around his friend. “After party at Shikaku’s!”

“Oh fuck off!”

“Sounds like a great idea!” Yoshino claps her hands. “Thanks, Shika-teme!”

“I hate all of you.”

“I gotta grab my shit from the BBQ place. I’ll catch up with you guys.”

Kushina pulls away from Yoshino and before anyone could stop her, she races down the road. Once everyone’s out of sight, she ducks into an alley and counts out the seconds. She reaches half a minute when finally, the guy decides to move his ass.

After Yoshino surprised her, Kushina paid more attention to her chakra senses. She immediately caught him lurking like the creepy asshole he is. For obvious reasons, people think that Zen-teme is the freaky twin and Sissy boy is practically a saint. But people are idiots. In her (correct) opinion, Sissy boy is much worse, preferring to spy on people for no good reason. He coulda easily joined them and their little chitchat. But noooo, he has to lurk.

“You’re such a weirdo,” she tells him.

Sissy boy hops down from his perch on a nearby rooftop. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Stop pretending that you have manners. If you really cared about courtesy, you woulda stayed away. But here you are.”

Sissy boy smiles sheepishly, looking perfectly ashamed. Kushina doesn’t buy it for a second, of course. It’s the biggest difference between the twins. Zen-teme is an idiot but at least he’s honest about his freak tendencies. Sissy boy is smart enough to hide his freak factor, like a lying liar who lies.

“You’re angry.”

“No shit!” Kushina snaps out. “One day, you want to have dinner with me. The next day, I don’t hear from you at all. What’s up with that?”

“I… Sandaime assigned me to an elite operations team. With all the training and missions, I just kinda… forgot…”

“About me, right? Don’t lie. It was like you became a ghost. Except you didn’t die, which woulda been more convenient.”

“Well,” Sissy boy says, dryer than kindling. “I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Kushina waves a dismissive hand. “Whatever, Namikaze. You clearly have better shit to do.”

“We could still have that dinner.”

“Jump off a cliff.”

Sissy boy frowns, ruining his usually placid demeanor. “What do you want from me? If you don’t want that, then-”

“Nothing!” Kushina yells. It’s both a lie and the truth. She searches the tangled knot in her chest, the curdling heat in her belly, for some kind of straight answer. But there’s too much of everything and so nothing comes to her.

They stare at each other, silence unrolling between them like the string of a runaway kite. Soon enough, the winds will wrench it completely out of their hands.

“It would’ve been nice… to get dinner, just the two of us…” Minato murmurs into the hush of a winter’s night.

“It’s too late now.” Kushina crosses her arms. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I won’t be gone forever.”

“And what? I’m supposed to wait for you?”

Sissy boy sighs. “That wouldn’t be fair. So…”

“So… Happy Birthday, weirdo.” Kushina wrinkles her nose, turning around and walking out of the alley. “Have fun kissing toads or whatever.”

“I’ll miss you.”

Kushina trips on her next step. She doesn’t fall because she’s a Sage-damned shinobi. But she got closer to the ground than she liked. At the very last second, she does a clever spin on her heel, using the momentum to turn around and face Sissy boy. Except he’s gone.

The alley is empty and pristine, not even a pair of footprints on the snow.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

"Zeeeeeen-chan, are you leaving already?"

Zenitsu stands in the genkan. He has a slipper on one foot, and a sandal on the other. His blond hair slides over his shoulder, the tips nearly reaching his waist. He looks behind him, smiling warm and sheepish.

"Ah. I got caught."

The woman huffs, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. She's wearing a humble yukata yet traces of makeup remain in the corner of her eyes, on the curves of her cheeks. Her long hair is barely restrained by the single hair tie, trapping blond locks into a messy bun. She raises a perfectly maintained eyebrow.

"Do you really think that anything happens in this house without me - the Madame - knowing?"

"Sorry, sorry..." Zenitsu laughs. "I hate to leave your company, you know that! But I have... work."

"Mmmhmm... You always say that."

The woman steps forward, reaching out her hands. She gently straightens the collar of Zenitsu's hakama, her touch lingering where the cloth meets skin.

For a shinobi, Zenitsu is awful easy about letting people close. It could be arrogance - the knowledge that a civilian could not harm him. But she knows better. Zenitsu's just that sweet.

"If only..." She sighs. "... You would spend the night."

"I slept here, didn't I?"

"Properly." She tugs the collar sharply, glaring at him.

He winces. "You know that I can't. You would bleed me dry."

Unfortunately, Zenitsu is not that sweet and despite her best efforts, he is not a paying customer. It's almost enough to offend her pride.

But at least, she can take revenge. Leaning closer, she presses her tits against his chest. "Wee~eell hopefully, I can see Zenko again. Maybe real soon? I want to teach her a few... trrrrricks."

He turns stiff under her touch, but not in the fun way. She can hear his teeth grinding as his pulse races like a rabbit fleeing a hawk. Clumsily, almost tripping over his feet, he pulls away from her as he croaks out a laugh.

"I'm sure that Zenko would lo~ove to spend time with you. But right now, she's pretty tired - after performing all night. She'll visit as soon as she can. Once she's fully rested, I mean."

She smiles at him. A vein pops on her brow. Ara ara. He used to be so easy. A soft coo - a suggestive purr was enough to melt him in her hands like putty. It's too bad that he's got such a good teacher. Zenitsu's come a long way from being that messy, freaky, little boy. He actually has manners and volume management. He can restrain himself, albeit awkwardly and through great effort. She would be so proud... if it wasn't also denying her access to that sweet, sweet shinobi cash.

As Zenitsu bows - a proper full bow. She allows a small, sincere smile to slip. Alright. Well. Maybe's a little proud, and maybe also a little sad. A sweet boy like Zenitsu would never survive as an Intel agent. So he worked hard - grew a thicker skin. He's less sweet now, but this way, he gets to live.

If nothing else, his teacher made sure of that.

"Fine," she proclaims, waving a dismissive hand. "Off with you! I have no use for freeloaders around here!"

"Thank you for your hospitality," he chirps back.

And then, Zenitsu is gone. In the space of a second, he vanishes before her eyes. Damned shinobi and their special techniques.

"Take care," she whispers into the empty air, when he can't hear her. Of course, that's just a lie she tells herself.

True enough, already leagues away, Zenitsu heard her parting wish as clearly as if she spoke directly into his ear. And, in the privacy of solitude, he allows himself to giggle and squeal, turning a brighter red than even the ripest fruit. He's not "immune" to womanly charms, or hell, even manly charms. But Jiraiya trained him to... delay his reactions. He needed flawless composure if he wanted to become a good spymaster. And he's definitely not there yet. He definitely needs more, ahem, practice. There's just no helping it! Ahahaha!

Honestly, Jiraiya is fucking crazy! Him? Zenitsu? A spymaster?!? He's the loudest asshole on the continent! And his so-called sensei trained him to become a spymaster!! Unbelievable!

Except, it's actually not. Zenitsu's hearing has always been exceptional, maybe more so in this second life than his first. At fifteen again, he's certain that his hearing is waaaaaay better compared to before. With enough concentration, he can hear a pin drop from across a crowded, busy city. That sort of skill is perfect for spying.

He could learn the other necessary skills. And he did. Jiraiya gave him no choice. Even worse, everyone supported Jiraiya's crazy idea. As it turns out, the "other necessary skills" includes maintaining composure and practicing proper etiquette, which everyone thinks that he needs to learn. Rude! He has manners and he can remain calm. It's not his fault that he keeps getting thrown into terrible, horrifying situations!!

... Zenitsu will admit that he learned a lot during Jiraiya's lessons on women. In a completely ironic twist, the bastard knew a thing or two dozen about the proper way to act around women, specifically women who want something from him. As a famous perv, other villages have sent plenty of honeypot assassins his way. Clearly, since he's still kicking around, they failed.

Long story short: Zenitsu can hold a conversation with a woman now. He can even tell a joke and hear her laugh without completely losing his shit.

He's honestly proud of his progress. It only took four months of intense training. And he's only half humiliated. The other half (involving his lower half) is not something he can share around polite company. Simply put, he learned various things about women and himself. Hehehe.

After all that, Jiraiya fucked off to check on Minato at Toad Mountain. It's time for Zenitsu to return home - a new, changed man.

"Whaddya mean we're the only single guys in Konoha?!?" Zenitsu yells, shaking Inoichi.

Settled back in the village, Zenitsu ran into Inoichi as he shopped for groceries. They grabbed some dango together, sitting down to properly catch up. The Ino-Shika-Cho are apparently enjoying an extended break from missions. Their cumulative clans had enough political pull to excuse them from the roster of active shinobi for the exclusive purpose of training their specialized techniques. According to Inoichi, his team is using the time to bum around the village. Zenitsu is so horribly jealous.

But then, Inoichi gets into the real important news. As Konoha's youngest shinobi hit puberty, the hormones have thickened in the air. Disastrously, for Zenitsu, he was away from the village on the stupid training trip with Jiraiya. And now...

"Gedoff!! You heard me!" Inoichi yanks himself away. "Everyone hooked up!! I mean, everyone!! I'm surprised that you didn't hook up with someone on your training trip!! Didn't Lord Jiraiya teach you anything??"

Zenitsu cringes, rubbing the nape of his neck. "It's not that simple!!!"

"Uh, yeah? It is? You just take your dick out or you take their di-"

"Shutthefuckup!!! That's not what I meant! Unlike you, I don't just... It has to be special. With someone special."

"Well, I'm special. Wanna fuck?"

"Yeah, special needs maybe."

"Oh go to hell!!"

"You don't have a romantic bone in your body, Inoichi Yamanaka. It's no wonder that you're single!"

"That's not fair! I'm more romantic than Shikaku and he managed to pull fucking Yoshino. Yoshino!!! I thought that woman was ace!"

"You and your fancy fucking words. Whazzat even mean?"

"That you're a dumbass."

"Me?? You couldn't even tell that she was hunting him!!"

"Whatever!! Thank the Sage for Chouza and Kushina. At least, they make sense. I was starting to wonder if I was cursed or something."

"Wait. What."

Inoichi's jaw clicks shut. He sizes up Zenitsu, a hard crease forming on his brow.

"Y-Yeah. Kushina and Chouza. They started dating a couple weeks after your birthday party. Shikaku said that they just clicked.”

Zenitsu hums a flat note, but says nothing. A few seconds pass in complete silence.

Inoichi scowls. "What."

"Hm?"

"You went all weird. What's up?"

"No, I didn't. I'm just thinking. Chouza and Kushina? Really?"

"And? So? Chouza's a good guy. He's the best man in my team! Kushina's lucky to snag him."

"I'm sure she is."

Inoichi's eyes narrow into a knife-like stare. His fingers start tapping his weapons pouch. "What's your problem with Chouza?"

Zenitsu rolls his eyes. "I don't have a problem with Chouza! Search my brain if you want!"

"I don't have enough clearance." Inoichi snorts. "But you're clearly not happy about something. Just spit it out and let's go on with our lives."

"Man, you were hitting on me like what - a minute ago? Now you're ready to square up. You're staying single forever."

"Stop stalling."

"Relax!! I swear - I'm cool with Chouza! I barely know the guy - we've spoken maybe twice. I'm not gonna - I don't even know! Whatever you're thinking about."

"So you're not gonna - oh, I don't know - sabotage their relationship? Because of your weird problem?"

This time, Zenitsu's jaw clicks shut.

Inoichi bares all his teeth in a nasty grin. "They're happy together. Just once. See them with each other. You'll get it. And for the sake of our friendship, you better get over yourself."

Inoichi abruptly stands up, throwing the empty dango stick into the trash. The stick sails over the rim and sticks into the nearby post, cracking the wood slightly. Inoichi doesn't say goodbye, simply walking away. Zenitsu clicks his tongue, glaring at the syrup splattered ground. He finishes his dango with a vicious bite.

The old Zenitsu would walk up to Kushina and loudly demand answers. But Zenitsu is a new man, a changed man. Also, he doesn't want to repeat his mistake with Minato. So he follows Jiraiya's teachings and actually uses his intel, ahem, research skills. This mostly involves walking around the village center, skimming through conversations, and tuning in whenever someone spoke about Kushina.

He quickly pins down her favorite restaurants - including the barbecue shop where she's often seen with Chouza. A number of Akimichi have noticed the way their heir doted on Kushina. Some are supportive, cooing about young love. Some are dismissive, claiming it's just a summer fling - it won't last. But he doesn't hear anyone criticize the relationship, not even a hint of negative sentiment.

Overall, people agree. Kushina and Chouza make a cute couple.

Zenitsu grits his teeth and moves to the second stage of research. He verifies his sources. This involves directly monitoring Kushina. He finally sees the couple in action and... yeah, okay. They are cute. Their sounds harmonize well. Chouza is a mild-mannered gentleman, complimenting Kushina's wild, firecracker self. They share a love of food - from cooking to eating. They like to spar because they're both meatheads with similar fighting styles. She makes him laugh.

They even do double dates with Yoshino and Shikaku. Ha. It's no wonder that Inoichi felt so left out.

Overall, there's nothing notable about Kushina and Chouza. They're just two kids having fun together - a lot of fun. Zenitsu may be a Konoha-sanctioned stalker now, but he uses Minato's seals whenever the happy couple does happy activies. That's just a line which he doesn't need to cross. Unfortunately, he can't avoid noticing the frequency, even if he blocks out the exact details. Hearing like his has a steep price, for all the good it gets him.

Except, one thing does stick out to Zenitsu. And he tries - honest he does - but he just can't get over it. He listens and he watches and he analyzes, like Jiraiya taught him. It's just not there.

As he gears up to speak with Kushina, Konoha's number one most surprising ninja ambushes him.

"Okay, what the fuck."

Zenitsu just woke up. He's in his pajamas, brewing himself some tea, when Kushina slams open his kitchen windows.

"Watch it. We just moved in. This place is like brand new."

After discovering Minato's "promotion" to ANBU, leading to the Namikaze's worst fight, they ended up destroying their apartment. They lost their deposit and they had to pay heavy fines for the destruction of public property. But as a favor to Jiraiya, the Hokage graciously leased them an apartment in a different building - where all the higher ranked shinobi live. They're no longer genin, after all. They've outgrown their genin-alloted standard housing. Naturally, the new apartment is bigger too, with proper bedrooms and one of those fancy, electric washing machines.

But due to Minato leaving for Toad Mountain, and Zenitsu's current work, their new home isn't properly lived in. The walls are bare of any decoration. Their stuff remains in taped up boxes stacked along the walls. The place feels more like a warehouse than a residence.

That doesn't mean Kushina can just come in and start wrecking shit.

"Don't. Sissy boy is way better at deflecting than you are. So just. Fess up."

Zenitsu takes a looooong sip of his tea. "About?"

"Bastard. You really wanna try me?" Kushina's long red locks slowly lift into the air, splitting into nine distinct tails. "Why are you stalking me? I can sense you, stupid! Or did you forget?"

Ah. "Ah."

"So? What the fuck??"

"Well..." Zenitsu sets down his tea cup, and takes a deep breath. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Kushina jolts, blinking. "Me??"

"Yeah! Why are you running around town with Chouza?”

"Because I like him?? Because he likes me?? Wasn't that obvious?"

"And? Is that all?"

"Whaddya mean? Just say it, asshole! Did I need a fucking pass from you to start dating? Should I have sent a messenger hawk - given you a two weeks notice - before I asked him out???"

"YOU asked him???"

"Yeah! Why wouldn't I!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!"

"Sage. You can hear that? Your ears are fucking problem!"

"Who cares about that?!"

"Me, clearly!"

"You're dating a guy that you're not in love with!! Kushina, how could you?"

"Okay. Pause. Again, I say, what the fuck! You act like I'm committing some kind of awful sin. But it's literally just... civvie girl shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Yanno, civvie girl shit! You do whatever you like with whoever you like! Not every relationship has to be serious. How are you like this?! You literally throw yourself at the feet of every woman you see. What if you hooked up with each one? Huh? What then? Just because you suck at dating, that doesn't mean everyone else has to marry the first person who tolerates them. You fucking hypocrite!"

Zenitsu scowls, hands flexing at his sides. "Are you leading him on?"

Kushina flinches, as if he actually slapped her. Then she lunges forward, violet eyes deepening to a crimson red. She's no longer taller than him but that doesn't stop her from getting right in his face, nearly slamming her brow against his nose.

"You... Unbelievable... Bastard. First, you think that I'm slut. Now, you call me what? Some kind of maneater?? Are you for real?!"

"I didn't say that!!"

"But you implied it!!!"

"What?! No, I didn't!"

"So, you're totally not looking down on me for - let's run that back: dating guys I like and dating guys who like me. As if I seduced Chouza with my feminine wiles, just to dump him when I'm bored."

Zenitsu opens his mouth.

"Be very careful about what you say next. I will cut out your tongue."

Zenitsu closes his mouth.

Silence stretches between them - heavy with layers of frustration, confusion, and a whole lot of hurt.

Somewhere in the distance, a wind chime rings a crystalline note. It's a familiar sign of summer settling its bones in the earth. Already, the days are long, with hot mornings that ripen to sweet nights. There's a familiar festive mood that sweeps through the village - a natural consequence from excessive sunlight exposure.

But within the Namikaze apartment, the air is cold and empty. Then, Zenitsu exhales a loud, hissing breath and looks away from Kushina, dropping his chin ever so slightly. She unclenches her fist, taking a step back.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

“Yeah? Well, mission failed, asshole. Or maybe I don’t count? Maybe it’s fine if I get fucked up!” Kushina clicks her tongue. “If I catch you near me and Chouza again…”

Her words echo throughout the apartment. Zenitsu winces, rubbing one of his ears. Kushina turns away, climbing onto the windowsill. She readies herself to leap off but just before she does, she stops. A hopeful note rings from her, muffled beneath the angry thump of her heart. He could say sorry - right this second, and they can forget this ever happened. But Zenitsu stays silent. So Kushina has no more reason to stay.

Half a minute later, a red blur is barely visible from the kitchen window. Somewhere, within the stack of boxes, an unpacked clock chimes, signaling the mid-day hour. Zenitsu hasn’t left his apartment and yet, he wants to go home.

Not for the first time, he wishes that Minato was here. It’s been six months since his little brother left for Toad Mountain. In six months, Chouza started shaving, Inoichi’s voice dropped, and Kushina gained womanly assets. They all seem different now, looking less like snot-nosed jokes and more like proper, fully formed people.

Minato must be changing too, growing up - becoming a man. Will Zenitsu recognize him? When Minato comes back? Or will he look for a little boy that doesn't exist anymore?

Zenitsu leaves the village before his thoughts can drag him down. He goes back to maintaining the spy network that Jiraiya left him.

Just like in his previous life, the Red Light District is a seething, frothing swamp of information. All the shinobi villages know this, and the bigger villages always have highly trained kunoichi planted in the richer, more popular houses. In a happy coincidence, Jiraiya's work takes him to places filled with beautiful women. But a surprisingly small portion of the work involves women. In truth, it's more important to connect with the clientele - sometimes to establish friendly relations, sometimes to catch a rat.

Jiraiya is oddly conventional when on the job. He will spend hours on a rooftop, watching the streets below. Or he can hole up in a bar, playing the drunken fool until his target walks in. Either way, he has a sound strategy - a tried and tested technique. Zenitsu prefers a more hands on approach.

"Zenko-chan!!! I love you!!!"

"Zenko-chan, look this way!!!"

"Zen-chi is the BEST!!!"

Zenko waves at the adoring, cheering fans in front of her. "Thank you everyone!!! I love you all!"

The crowd swells with delight, pushing to reach the stage. Of course, Zenko is just a touch too quick for civilian hands. She dances out of their reach, waving and smiling the whole time.

"Zenko!"

"Zenko!!!"

"ZENKO!!!"

Unlike conventional methods which require patience and discretion, Zenitsu prefers to get up close and personal with the clientele. Jiraiya pointed out that they have kunoichi specifically for this job. Zenitsu ignored the old perv and cheerfully threw himself into the first house that would hire him. Jiraiya wouldn't understand. He can't. Zenitsu has a score to settle with a dead man - specifically, a flashy ex-shinobi.

If rebirth offers a second a chance, then this time, he will become the best oiran. No, that's thinking too small. He's going to become famous - a Fire Country Idol. Uzui will eat his words if Zenko has to shove each syllable down his throat.

To Jiraiya's immense confusion, Zenitsu's Zenko is a smash hit. Other oirans are pretty and delicate, everything she is not. But she is novel and she can play any instrument handed to her. She's also immensely entertaining, which is in fact a big reason many of the clientele visit the Red Light District.

This way, Zenitsu's new world is really not so different from his first. People are the same, at least. Boredom remains their worst weakness. Unlike hunger or pain, there's hardly any cures for boredom - for the malaise that twists the soul, breeding lust and greed and cruelty. It makes sense that eventually, most folk end up at the Red Light District. It's one of the few places where an honest, hardworking man can find entertainment. And for once, Zenitsu acts like a proper shinobi by taking ruthless advantage of that.

He doesn't have to sit and wait for important or notable clients to stroll in. No. Zenko drags them to her, filling tea houses and bars with adoring fans of her music.

It doesn't hurt that Zenitsu's disguise is waaaaay better now. Despite Jiraiya's reservations regarding Zenitsu's preferred methods, he directs his stubborn student towards some old contacts with particularly relevant skills. Thanks to them, Zenko is looking good. The makeup actually suits her face. Sure, she isn't traditionally "feminine", but that compliments her innovative music. Everything about her is different. As her fans like to say, she's a breath of fresh air in the stale, smoky rooms of the Red Light District.

“Thank you for another wonderful show!” The mistress grins, pulling out a pouch of coins. “My girls will be busy tonight.”

Zenko gratefully accepts the payment with a respectful bow. “Of course! I’d love to perform for your house again.”

“You just might, sweetheart. You just might.”

With a suggestive wink, the mistress heads to the parlor, where business is undoubtedly booming.

Alone at last, Zenitsu giggles, practically squealing, as he basks in the high from a show well done. He takes a second to admire Zenko in a nearby mirror, because hot damn. The barest hint of blush emphasizes the baby-soft curves of her face. The ripe peach of lipstick compliments the bronze glow of her skin. She looks real good. And it's all thanks to Jiraiya's contacts - now Zenitsu’s friends, no - his comrades-in-arms within this festering pit. If they hadn't taken the time to teach him about makeup, Zenko would remain a horrible mess.

But speaking of friends, Zenitsu's ears twitch as he picks up a pained shout. Quickly unsealing his sword, he leaps out the window, landing barefoot on the roof. He remains in his Zenko disguise, from her tied up hair to her cloud-patterned kimono, and that's entirely intentional. It can't be Zenitsu who comes swooping in to the rescue.

Zenko instantly finds the troublemaker. She lands between the drunk and his would-be victim.

"That's enough out of you."

Her sword remains in its sheathe. For now, her hand on the handle should be threatening enough.

And to the bastard's credit, he takes a step back, reassessing the situation. He seems to be a regular sort of guy. His clothes are well worn and sunbleached. Yet, there's no patches, no tattered edges. He's likely just another pair of hired hands, spending his wages after a long week of work.

"Zen...ko?"

"Walk away. If you know what's good for you."

"But Zenko, he tricked me! He's just a pervert playing dress up!"

"Didn't you hear me? I said..." She allows her chakra to poison the air. "Walk. Away."

The guy trips on his feet, falling on his ass. He scrambles out of the alley before he manages to stand up again. He doesn't look back as he runs.

Zenitsu breathes in, relaxing his shoulders. He turns to the fallen "oiran".

She's a mess. Her mascara runs in streaks down her cheeks. Her lipstick is smudged across her jaw. An imprint of knuckles is stamped across the blush on her cheek.

"Zen...chan?"

"Vivi, you need to stop working when you're high."

Zenitsu kneels down, helping Vivi to her feet. She sways slightly, blinking at him with clear confusion on her face.

"Ara, Zen-chan! When did you get here?"

Vivi is in truth a beautiful woman. Her hair is a cornyellow blond. Her eyes resemble amethysts. And she has a jawline that could cut granite.

Zenitsu spies some stubble peeking through the powder. He frowns. Vivi taught him everything about makeup. This sloppy work is not like her. But then...

She giggles, leaning heavily against him. "Are you here for me? Hmm, Zen-chan? Are we fi~nally spending the night together?"

Zenitsu gently guides her to a nearby stack of crates. "No. I'm sorry. I'm working right now."

"Mou..." She takes a seat, playfully pushing his shoulder. "You aa~lways say that. You and-and Jiraiya-chan.”

"I'm sorry," Zenitsu says again, unable to think of anything better to say.

Vivi falls silent. Her blown-wide pupils stare into the distance. At random intervals, she starts laughing and murmuring nonsensical jokes to herself. But for the most part, she's quiet.

Zenitsu stays with her, in this dark alley, listening to the streets around them. Vivi and her friends are the reason that he remained in his Zenko disguise. He's not always around. But theoretically, Zenko is. She's supposed to live in one of the houses. And as long as Zenko is here, assholes are less likely to get handsy with Vivi and her friends.

Well, that's the idea, at least. And usually, Vivi's too smart to pick customers that would... object to her body. But... Well, the Red Light District offers more than pretty women. The drugs are nice too.

"... Zen, I want to go home."

"Okay."

He takes her back to a rundown building. It's not a proper house because no one would hire an oiran like Vivi. Of course, that doesn't stop her from calling herself an oiran or from establishing a house for herself.

Zenitsu settles Vivi into bed, positioning her so she won't choke if she vomits in her sleep. He's about to leave when the door creaks open.

"Is she alright, Zen-chan?" Kiki, an oiran of Vivi's house, asks. She's dressed for work, probably on her way out, when she caught sight of him.

"Yeah. I found her just in time."

"She's a very lucky girl." Kiki hums, twirling a lock of her snow-white hair. "Well, hero-san, why don't you have a drink on me? It's the least we can do."

Zenitsu raises an eyebrow. "Just one drink?"

Kiki rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes. We all know that you're very precious about your lungs. And you don't like when we work drunk. Sheesh. My mother fusses less than you."

Zenitsu shrugs. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"What a funny thing for a shinobi to say.”

Kiki turns around, heading down the hall. Zenitsu follows her. He doesn't hear anyone else in the building. Everyone must be hard at work.

In the kitchen, Kiki pours him a cup of watered down sake. Naturally, the good stuff is reserved for paying customers, which Zenitsu is not.

"But you could be," Kiki tells him, tapping finely manicured fingers on the table. Under the flickering flourescent light, her brown skin takes on a sunken, sallow appearance. She winks at him. "Save me the trouble and spend the night with me. How about it? You could keep me all nice and safe."

Zenitsu smiles sadly. "Jiraiya said-"

"Jiraiya-chan, oh Jiraiya-chan." Kiki waves a dismissive hand. "We love Jiraiya-chan, but he never buys us."

"I'm sorry."

She smirks, leaning forward. The table's edge pushes up her breasts. "I think... It's time for the student to surpass the master."

This close, Zenitsu could see the edges of her makeup, dry and thin. Spiderweb-cracks cross over her jaw and the curve of her cheekbones where the powder started to flake off. Thick lines ring around her eyes, attempting to hide the sleepless nights yet only serving to highlight her exhaustion. It’s just past midnight and she hasn’t found a client yet. She’ll be walking these streets for a few more hours.

And Zenitsu knows - he knows - that he’s an easy mark. Once upon a time, during their mission in the Red Light District, Uzui said that it was too early for him to approach the oirans. He was not ready to play their games - he was not prepared, he didn’t know the rules. He would fall for their caked on makeup and oily eyelashes because they would sound so incredibly sad. He would ignore the deep, angry hunger inside them.

Uzui was right. And Jiraiya said the same thing. The oirans - the nightwalkers - the whores - they would swallow him whole and he would let them. He would fall for someone simply doing their job. And it wouldn’t be fair to either of them. It’s not anyone’s fault that Zenitsu can’t play their game.

It's better this way. He has a job to do, after all.

“I’m… I’m waiting for someone special.”

Kiki rolls her eyes, settling back into her seat. She pulls out a compact and reapplies her makeup, sealing up all those cracks. “Ugh, you’re such hard work.”

Zenitsu shrugs. “I hope I’m worth it.”

The compact shuts with a click. She faces him again, pale-pink powder and bright-red lipstick. But her eyes remain dark and plain. “Oh sweet baby… Don’t we all?"

The fluorescent light buzzes. The rusty faucet drips. They down their drinks in a single swig. Then they get up and get to work.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Zenitsu puts Zenko away, locked safely inside a polished, wooden chest. He leaves behind the world’s biggest Red Light District, which straddles the border between Rice and Fire Country (the flashiest region, some could say). He travels to a town near Suna, casually crossing about a thousand kilometers on foot. It takes him around a day - a day and a half, mostly because he was feeling a little lazy so he kept taking breaks. He reaches the town right before noon, and heads for a humble taiyaki shop. Lately, for some mysterious reason, life has left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could use something sweet.

“Hey, stranger.”

A dusty blond takes a seat next to him as he finishes his last fifth taiyaki. Despite displaying delicate features, the blond is definitely a guy. Zenitsu learned this the hard way.

“Mmmph!”

The blond guy cringes at the spray of crumbs as Zenitsu cheerfully greets him.

“Sage. You’re disgusting. Swallow before you speak.” Then he smirks - adding a nasty twist to his sweet face. “You’re good at swallowing, if I recall correctly.”

Zenitsu chokes - the last bit of pastry sticking to the back of his throat. He spends a few useless seconds just gagging and coughing as the blond does nothing but watch. Seriously. Pretty guys can go to hell. They’re always assholes.

“Are you trying to kill me??” Zenitsu yells, after clearing his windpipe.

“Yes,” the blond answers bluntly. “Or have you forgotten how we met?”

“I remember! I saved you!”

That brings a satisfying flush across the blond’s cheeks. “No, you didn’t! I had the situation perfectly under control.”

“Sure, Yasha. Sure.” Zenitsu rolls his eyes.

“Yasha” scowls at him, all traces of amusement gone. “Go back to choking, Zen.”

“Not unless you’ve got something I can choke on.” Zenitsu pauses, then deliberately adopts a thinking pose. “Oh wait. You don’t!”

Yasha wrestles Zenitsu into a headlock. Zenitsu tickles Yasha’s ribs. They roughhouse and nearly break the bench they’re sitting on before the taiyaki shopkeep kicks them out. But that’s pretty much according to plan. To everyone else, they seem like a pair of shameless hooligans, with nothing better to do. It’s less likely for anyone to recognize them as Namikaze Zenitsu and Yashamaru of Suna.

They quickly find somewhere more private - a spare room at a nearby inn. Zenitsu zooms towards the bed, flopping face down onto the sheets. Yashamaru clicks his tongue, before locking the door and shutting the curtains.

“What kind of intel operative are you?” He glares at the prone shinobi in front of him. “You didn’t even check if the room is secure.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that!! We’re friends, right?”

“Absolutely not.”

Zenitsu pushes himself up, staring at Yashamaru with comically wide-eyes. “We’re more than friends???”

A vein pops on Yashamaru’s brow. He slams a fist on Zenitsu’s head. “Idiot! We’re info brokers! We exchange information!”

“Ooooowww! You’re so mean!”

“I’m not mean! I’m professional, like our relationship sho-uld be!”

“Ha! Your voice just cracked!”

Yashamaru’s eye twitches. Then he breathes out. “Screw this. You’re not worth the stress.”

He drops onto the bed, causing Zenitsu to bounce. The sound of cracking glass pierces Zenitsu’s ears, causing him to fall silent as he studies his “friend”. Yashamaru really is so very pretty - from the gentle curve of his chin to the strange blue-grey shade of his eyes. Unfortunately, his sound is ruining those good looks. It resembles sand grinding down granite - a rough and sharp noise that hurts to hear. Clearly, there’s something wrong. So, Zenitsu uses his most effective tool for research: patience. When seconds slink by without anyone speaking, Yashamaru groans like the hull of a ship right before it breaks. Then a waterfall of words spill out from him.

Formally, Namikaze Zenitsu and Yashamaru of Suna are responsible for a lowkey line of communication between their villages. They’re used to exchange information when official channels are not discreet or expedient enough. Their connection is basically an open secret, not on the books but not quite under the table. So they don’t usually get concrete communication, like scrolls or reports, unless it’s a full on emergency. As a result, they “exchange information” by bitching about their lives.

“-and he’s so stuck up! My sister is waaaaaay too good for him.”

“Oh for sure.”

“He doesn’t even smile!”

“What an asshole.”

“It’s just… Why? Why does my sister have to marry him? There’s plenty of women in the village! Maybe no one as pretty but pretty is wasted on him.”

“I could marry her, if you’d like.”

Yashamaru thumps Zenitsu with a pillow. “How are you the better option??”

Zenitsu wheezes. “I smile!”

“You’re also an enemy nin.”

“Whaaaat? No, I’m not! We’re not even at war.”

“... How have you survived this long?”

“I run away from danger. You know. Like a normal person.”

Yashamaru snorts. “There’s absolutely nothing normal about you.”

Zenitsu opens then closes his mouth. There’s really no point in proving his normalcy when the standards of this world’s normal is too strange to begin with. So he simply grunts and rolls onto his back, staring at the cracked ceiling.

“Tch. What’s up with you?”

Zenitsu shrugs.

“Heaven help me. You’re even weirder when you’re quiet.”

“Piss off…”

“Just fucking say it.”

Yashamaru slams a tight fist on the mattress, hard enough for the bed springs to creak. The strike narrowly misses Zenitsu's head - bare knuckles grazing his ear.

"All my friends are dating," Zenitsu blurts out. "There! That's my problem!"

"That's..." Yashamaru scowls. "Of course, that's your problem. I should have known. So you're jealous or something?"

"No! Well, yes kinda but that's not really the problem." Zenitsu sits up, turning to face the wall, avoiding Yashamaru's gaze.

Outside, the sun starts to sink. The blue sky ripens into various shades of yellow, orange, and red. Bars begin to open and street vendors start lining up. The sizzle of hot oil threads between shouts and cheers, laughter and insults. In border towns like this one, the real business begins at night as weather-worn travelers crawl out of their rented beds, seizing some comfort before they continue their journeys.

Inside, Zenitsu sighs into the stale air.

"There's... I know this girl - and it's not like that. She's in love with my brother, and he's in love with her. I'm sure of it. But... she started dating this guy. I know this guy - he's a good guy."

"Okay... And?"

"She's just messing around! They're not - I mean - What about my brother?"

"What about him? If he's not dating her, that's his problem. Clearly, he did something wrong."

"He's just busy! Okay? Would it kill her to wait?"

"But like... Why? Is she - I don't know - fucking up this other guy? Cuz if she is, why do you want her near your precious baby bro?"

"No!! They're fine!!! They're good together!!! I'm just - Listen." Zenitsu takes a deep breath. "It's like... With your sister, sure - you hate the guy. But she's gonna marry him - he's committed. Isn't that better than having the guy date her then dump her?"

"No. Obviously."

"Obviously?!”

"Because then she can move on. She can find a nicer guy. Like I guess, commitment is good. But if you're stuck with an asshole..." Yashamaru shakes his head, crossing his arms. "Is your problem - what exactly? She's not loyal? She betrayed your brother? Like I am listening. I am. Help me understand."

Zenitsu grinds his teeth. He picks up the thrown pillow, hugging it tightly against his face. There's a tight clump in the back of his chest, stuck between his heart and the upper bones of his spine. It's not new. In fact, if he's being honest, this "clump" has been a pain since... since his first life. There's no good cure for it - nothing to get rid of it, so he just ignored it - tried to forget all about it. Except now... It kinda stings. It throbs like torn muscle that never healed right.

"I guess..." Zenitsu lifts his head up, pulling away from the pillow. "I have some bad experiences with women just messing around. That's all."

Yashamaru sighs. "And does this girl remind you of them? I just need to confirm - are you like noticing a new problem or are you projecting an old one?"

Zenitsu flings the pillow at Yashamaru, which he catches with ease. They stare at each other - sour offense clashing with polite doubt.

"Ugh." Zenitsu looks away first, flopping face down on the bed again. "Did you have to say it like that? I sound like a petty bastard."

"You are."

"Oh hush."

Yashamaru hums a flat note but he doesn’t say another word. He also doesn’t move - remaining on the bed, not quite relaxed but not quite tense either. It’s… weird. There’s clearly no important information to trade. They have no reason to stay in this stifling room.

Yet he’s thinking hard about something. He’s thinking loud enough that anyone could hear him. His sound knots into a discordant chord as if someone banged their open palm on a koto. Whatever his problem is, he’s halfway between hesitant and indignant. It’s awfully annoying to hear. Just before Zenitsu could snap and yell at him, Yashamaru settles down - smoothing out into a fragile, shy melody.

Then a gentle hand lightly rests on Zenitsu's back. It traces the pattern on his haori - nothing fancy like Zenko's outfits, just a series of yellow triangles surrounded by forest green.

"It's the best time for this sort of thing."

"What is?" Zenitsu asks, muffled by the mattress.

"Dating." Yashamaru lies down, tucking himself against the boy beside him. "We should have fun, while we can."

Zenitsu twists his neck to look at Yashamaru. Like this, there's barely any distance between them.

"Kumo has a new jinchuuriki. Iwa just lost an important contract with the smithing guild. And... Suna is securing its line of succession."

Despite such serious statements, a coy grin tugs at Yashamaru's mouth as his fingers dance a path up Zenitsu's arm. They sure make them pretty in Suna, Zenitsu thinks.

"No man likes to be called pretty" Yashamaru rolls his eyes.

Oh. Zenitsu said that out loud. He clears his throat. "Well, what do you like to be called?"

"I..." Yashamaru licks his lips. "I think that we could have fun together. This way, you can... understand that girl."

Zenitsu raises an eyebrow. "Wasn't our relationship supposed to be professional?"

Yashamaru makes a show of looking around. Then, he winks. "I won't tell if you don't."

Is it really that easy? During his first time as a teenager, despite his best efforts, he never got a chance to "have fun". Well. To be fair, he spent most of his teenage years training or fighting. Then, way before that, those women never got this close - never reached out for him or flirted with him.

Maybe it's a guy thing. He heard the whispers back in the Corps, which had been populated mostly by young men at the peak of puberty. At the time, he was already stubbornly attached to the Kamados. But he heard about it and he carefully didn't hear the happy noises singing out from the shadows. They really were very discreet but he could've... He knew and he could've...

"How about it? Zen-itsu?"

Yashamaru pulls himself closer until their noses nearly touch. Zenitsu listens to their breaths syncing, to their pulses bloating every capillary as a sweet pink spreads across their skin. He knows exactly where all the blood flows into - he can even start to feel the shape of it against his thigh. Yashamaru's eyes droop half-shut.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jiraiya's instructions rattle around, reminding him that Yashamaru is a foreign nin. So there must be a catch - there's gotta be a catch. He should leave. He should get up and walk out. He should never look back.

Zenitsu’s mouth is dryer than the sands of Suna. He’s kinda - no, he’s definitely curious. He has no memory of kissing a guy, especially no guy like Yashamaru who smells jasmine mixed with honey. He would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want a taste. Just a quick one!

He’s good at that, right? He’s always been quick and swift and fast. And it’s only one - once. Just once. Just now and never again.

“Wh-” His tongue feels like a fuzzy caterpillar inside his mouth. Zenitsu swallows. “Why me?”

Yashamaru chuckles. His breath puffs against Zenitsu’s lips.

“You’re special. I might never get another chance like this.”

And… Well… There’s no way to deny that.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

The days seem to swell, growing heavy and long, as summer slowly boils into its sweltering peak. Moist air slathers a shiny, thin film on everyone’s skin as if the skies licked a wide, wet stripe across the salty earth. After plenty of moaning and groaning, there’s one final, sizzling heatwave before the season bursts. Nights spill out with yearly festivities - fireworks and frothy beers, accompanied by the first cold kiss of autumn.

That’s when Zenitsu goes home.

He’s been gone for nearly four months, reaching the most transformative phase of puberty. Sure, his face remains youthfully round and he’s yet to grow hair anywhere apart from his head. But he got notably bigger, from his wide hands to his broad shoulders, not to mention the size of his feet. He also got slightly taller, maybe even taller than he ever was in his first life. But who’s counting? Certainly not him. Heeheehee.

Fortunately, his Zenko disguise isn’t too compromised by all these changes. He can sing in falsetto just fine and everything can be hidden with careful application of cosmetics or costuming. He uses every trick taught to him as Zenko’s popularity explodes thanks to all the local festivals. She ends up performing for large crowds and private parties and even snags a special show for the Fire Daimyo himself.

Kiss her ass, Uzui fucking Tengen.

She exponentially expands Jiraiya’s intel network to the pervy sage’s immeasurable surprise. If only Zenitsu had one of those hi-tech cameras, he would’ve snapped a photo of the old man’s jaw hanging open. All the Houses practically serve information on a silver platter in exchange for a visit from darling Zenko. Plus, there’s all the fans falling over themselves to give her anything that she wants. She has all sorts of people - from rice farmers to silk merchants - sending her fan letters with all sorts of details - from the average price of metal tools to which roads are monitored by which village. They just looooove to pour out their hearts to their beloved Zenko.

But now that Jiraiya returned from Toad Mountain, Zenko tearfully tells her fans that she needs some personal time, and Zenitsu goes back home. If he left behind a small mountain of unsorted mail and memorabilia, then that is no longer his problem.

He’s whistling his newest Zenko song when the village walls come into view. Somehow, it seems smaller than he remembers. How funny. He’s never lived anywhere bigger than Konoha in either of his lives. But after all his “adventures”, the village seems almost quaint. Perhaps he really has grown, in more ways than one.

“Oh. It’s you.”

Zenitsu pauses at the mission desk, blinking at the chuunin stationed there. Every part of his homecoming had proceeded smoothly, until now. Presently, he stands on the first floor of the Hokage Tower, in the very heart of Konoha. He’s dropping off his latest report - the final step before he can jump into his bed and sleep for a week. It was supposed to be a pretty painless task, which he’d completed numerous times before.

But it’s the first time for this task to involve this person.

“You’re allowed to handle check ins?”

Kushina slams her hands on the desk. “Why? You think that I’m just gonna dump the job when it gets too boring?”

So she’s still mad. That makes sense. They didn’t exactly part on good terms. He sighs.

“Listen, I-”

“Papers, please.”

“Eh?”

Kushina shoves an open palm in front of Zenitsu’s face. “I said. Hand me your papers and get outta my face.”

“Wait. Can’t we talk for a minute?”

“No. You’re holding up the line.”

Zenitsu glances behind him. There’s a single, dry-husk of a farmhand standing in line, waiting to commission a D-rank probably. He turns back to Kushina.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Which you’re gonna be if you don’t gimme your fucking papers.”

Zenitsu scowls. But if her sound - a high-pitched screech like a badly played violin - is any indicator, she’s not in any mood to talk. He forks over his papers even though he knows that she’s got nowhere better to be and she knows that he knows that she’s got nowhere better to be or anything better to do. This petty bullshit is the worst part about being a teenager, right up there with acne and body odor.

He moves along before ducking into a nearby alley. His plan is to wait for Kushina’s shift to end and catch her then. But he’s shit at masking his chakra so she knew that he was waiting for her. She glares out the window as her sound worsens to a very loud and very pointed “Try Me”. Wisely, Zenitsu ceases to try. He heads home.

Days pass and Kushina acquires bodyguards. They’re not actual bodyguards, just their friends siding with her, and definitely not with him. He’s effectively shunned from the group as every time he tries to meet with Kushina, they huddle close and act like he’s not there.

This brings up some bad memories. Ha. Zenitsu genuinely thought that he forgot about his previous life. But he’s getting a very vivid reminder. Fucking great.

“You know… A part of me is heartened to see the younger generation work so well together,” old Sarutobi tells him. “It’s simply unfortunate that they’re working together to hurt you.”

They’re seated on the Hokage monument. The cold, empty, unused apartment is not very welcoming. So Zenitsu finds refuge anywhere that he can find privacy. Unfortunately, he lives in a shinobi village where privacy doesn’t exist.

Zenitsu makes a half-hearted bow. He knows that Sarutobi is Hokage and therefore, his master. He should show more respect than bare minimum etiquette. But he just doesn’t care - he’s never cared about the man seated at the highest shinobi rank, and he’s never had a reason to care. If Minato was here, he’d go into a long rant about the village’s history and all the progress made under Lord Third. Of course, his little brother is always right about such things. But Zenitsu turned twelve in a trench on the borders of Water Country, with hands covered in Kinoko’s blood because they got in a bad fight. If that was the best this old man could do, then…

Yeah. He says nothing to Sarutobi as they watch the sunset. Despite the company, it’s fairly peaceful - almost soothing. Drinks pour freely, radios light up, as weary workers unwind from a long day. Almost automatically, his ears pick up gossip shared between giggles. Jiraiya trained him a little too well. But right now, he’s not on the job - he’s off duty - he’s clocked out. So Zenitsu reaches up to his earrings and gently activates the seals, allowing himself to sink into the ambiance of a safe, sedate life.

“You know…”

Fuck this old man.

“... Facing a coalition is no easy task, especially when one has no allies.”

Zenitsu bites back several impolite words before hissing out a breath. “Sorry, what?”

“Oh. Can you not hear me?”

“I can hear you. I just don’t understand.”

Sarutobi hums, blowing smoke out his nose. Zenitsu scowls and slides away from him.

“Your friends… They formed a coalition, specifically to hinder your mission. Have they not?”

“I mean, sure… if you wanna say it like that…”

“Ahem, yes well, would you allow this old man to share some of his wisdom?”

Zenitsu squints at Sarutobi. “Can I stop you?”

Sarutobi chuckles and taps out the ash from his pipe. “I have learned that the best way to deal with a coalition is to… dismantle it. If you can isolate one of its supporting pillars, you can carve out a chance for success.”

“Ummm… So… What exactly should I do?”

“You have many options available to you, Zenitsu m’boy. That said, bribery is my preferred method of resolution.”

“Huh???”

Sarutobi rises to his feet and with a simple, secretive smile, he walks away. Zenitsu watches him leave, wearing a twisted expression. He reaches up and deactivates the seals. Maybe if he could hear better, then he could understand this weird, crazy old coot. But before he could concentrate on Sarutobi’s sound, he finds a familiar melody floating on the wind. It’s sung by a hesitant, trembling voice, which Zenitsu could identify easily.

Ha. No way? Really? Haha. Seriously?

Zenitsu glances towards Sarutobi, now several steps down the stairs. Bribery, the Hokage said. Well. He’s done worse things under orders.

First, he returns to his apartment. Once he’s suitably equipped, he tracks down the melody’s source - presently squatting on Training Ground 11. Then, Zenitsu casually walks closer, as if he was on a nice, evening stroll and wow! Look at them - a pair of bros just coincidentally meeting like this.

“Not bad, Inoichi,” Zenitsu greets, once he’s close enough.

“HOLY SAGE’S BALLS!” Inoichi yells out. It’s not the most polite way to greet someone.

Zenitsu graciously pays no mind to this faux pas. He gifts Inoichi with a sweet smile.

“So. You like Zenko’s music?”

Inoichi puffs up like a territorial tomcat. “Yeah? And?? What about it??? Her songs are inspiring!! Lay off me, would ya?”

Poor guy. He was out here, quietly polishing his kunai and minding his business, when terrible, awful Zenitsu just had to stop by. But don’t worry, darling Inoichi. It’s all gonna turn out swell - just splendidly perfect.

“No, no, no! I get it. I’m a huuyuuuge fan of her too.”

“Uhuh. Sure, you are.”

“I am!”

“Try this shit with someone else. I’m busy.”

Zenitsu breathes out a big, dramatic sigh. “Then… I guess… You wouldn’t want to see the merch I got.”

That gets Inoichi’s full attention. His spine snaps straight as he drops his weapons kit. “Merch?”

“Yeah. I got to see one of her shows, since I’m traveling everywhere, y’know? And everyone’s always talking about her so naturally…”

“You… You have merch? Of Zenko?? But she’s notoriously private! She doesn’t even have an official manager or anything.”

“Weee~eell, when you got connections, the way I got connections…”

With Inoichi hanging on his every word, Zenitsu deploys the strongest weapon in his arsenal. He pulls out a pristine cassette tape of Zenko’s newest album. Despite all the pointless bloodshed, this world managed to develop cutting-edge audio-recording technology, superseding the clunky records from his old life. Cassette tapes are a miracle, in his opinion - slim and stackable, easy to fit several in his weapons pouch. And with his handy dandy walkman, he could listen to music while speeding through the continent. It’s great.

Zenitsu waves the tape in front of Inoichi. It’s fairly new tech so there's a chance that Inoichi wouldn’t recognize it. But Zenko’s messy signature on the label should be a big - oh shit!

He nearly loses a limb as Inoichi lunges forward, making a mad grab for the tape. But of course, Zenitsu is just too fast and the poor guy didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.

“Are you-”

“Is that-”

“-fucking crazy? You-”

“-Zenko’s newest album? I thought-

“-almost took off my hand! Do you-”

“-they only released like five copies! How did-”

“-really hate me that much?”

“-you get this?”

They stare at each other, catching their breath. Zenitsu recovers first, immediately putting away the tape. Inoichi scowls, stepping back and crossing his arms.

“Like I said. I have connections.”

“It could be fake.”

Zenitsu rolls his eyes. He takes out his walkman, inserts the tape, and pointedly presses play. Zenko’s voice sweetly sings from the stereo speakers. Inoichi clutches his chest, biting back a shriek of delight. Pfft. Pointless. Zenitsu could hear him perfectly - loud and clear like church bells after a wedding.

“... What do you want?”

“Hmm?”

“For that tape. What. Do you. Want.”

Zenitsu blinks, before throwing back his head and laughing. “You think… That I’m gonna give up… My signed copy of Zenko’s exclusive, limited release album?? You can’t be serious.”

“Just.” Inoichi grinds his teeth and clenches his fists. “Tell me.”

And since Zenitsu is such a kind and generous man, he does. He happily provides explicit and specific details regarding the cost of such a rare item.

Blood trickles out the corner of Inoichi’s mouth, where the poor guy bit through his bottom lip. He wheezes out a short, succinct agreement.

Zenitsu benevolently smiles as they shake hands.

It really is a very simple request. In exchange for the cassette tape, Inoichi pays a visit to Kushina, and puts in a good word for Zentisu. Through his secret Yamanaka methods (asking Chouza for help), he convinces Kushina to let Zenitsu speak with her. Then he just has to distract everyone else, so they could have some privacy.

In a strange reversal to how this all started, Zenitsu goes to Kushina’s house, but unlike her impromptu invasion, he knocks on her door. She spits out some creative cusses before allowing him inside. Zenitsu is pleasantly surprised to find a clean but cluttered home.

Given that Kushina can only access a small slice of the village, it makes sense that she takes good care to fill the space around her. If she can’t go out and see the world, then she’ll seize every wayward piece that drifts her way. He eyes a particularly shiny trinket, molded from clay and finished in a beautiful, green glaze. Yashamaru showed him something like it once - even taught him to play a few folk songs.

“Chouza got that for me,” Kushina tells him, as she pours hot water into a teapot.

“An ocarina, right?”

Zenitsu stands awkwardly in the parlor, unsure if he should take a seat and make himself comfortable. From the cold twang in Kushina’s sound, his comfort doesn’t seem to be one of her priorities. If he had to hazard a guess, his swift departure probably is.

“You know about it?”

“Mmhm. A… friend taught me to play.”

“Huh.”

Kushina prepares a single cup of tea, leans against the kitchen counter, and watches him with a carefully blank stare. Her sound sinks to a rumbling base - not angry, at least not yet. But if he gives her an opportunity - kaboom.

Zenitsu squares his shoulders then bows low and straight. “I’m so sorry. I had no reason to criticize your relationship with Chouza. It wasn’t any of my business. You were right.”

Kushina takes a loooooong sip. “Okay.”

“I…” Zenitsu lifts his head, peering at her through his bangs. “ Okay?”

“I mean… Yeah. It was shitty of you.” Kushina turns away, putting her empty cup into the sink. “I finally felt like a normal girl and not like a total freakshow. And you… you didn’t need to be happy for me. But you just had to be weird about it. And-”

Zenitsu places a gentle hand on her shoulder. He didn’t stop to think that maybe she won’t like him getting so close. His ears picked up the noise of a teardrop hitting porcelain tile, and he’s at her side in an instant. He never liked it when girls cry.

"It won’t happen again.”

A sigh softens the space between them. "I'm not gonna spend my life just waiting for your brother. He didn't think that was fair either."

"... You talked to him?"

"Yeah. Before he left. And it's not like we were dating back then. The guy never took me out to dinner, yanno? If ya wanna talk about lack of commitment, there ya go."

Zenitsu groans, dragging a hand down his face. "... Minato, you..."

"And - also - on top of all that!” Kushina spins to face him properly, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not like Chouza's in love with me either."

"... If you say so…”

"What’s not clicking?”

“No, no! I believe you!”

“Then just say that! Don’t gimme a pansy-ass answer, yanno!”

“Well… Can I ask a question?”

“Tch.” Kushina pulls herself away from him. “I guess… If you really hafta…”

“Kinda?” Zenitsu coughs, rubbing the nape of his neck as he focuses on a random spot on the floor. “Because like… How do you know? How are you so sure?”

"We talk, duh. Like for real, full-blown, in-depth discussions. It's this thing about healthy relationships. It requires constant and reliable communication. Not that you would know."

"Hey now…” He scowls at her. “What's that supposed to mean?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "Even if he was feeling some sort of way, we're shinobi, Zen-teme. He's not gonna fall in love with me.”

“But that’s my point! We’re shinobi. He could be lying to you!”

"That's his problem then. We had an arrangement. Our relationship is temporary - that was laid out from the start. If he 'catches feelings', then he screwed up. And I ain't got patience for that kind of fucking around, yanno?"

He snorts. "But you like the other kind?"

"Damn straight." Kushina looks him straight in the eyes, wearing a proud, foxy grin. A challenge is written in the lines of her shoulders and the lift of her chin.

Zenitsu adopts the well-known pose of surrender - raising both hands with palms facing out. Kushina’s keen gaze studies him, searching for any doubt or pity. He hears precisely when she finds nothing - her sound relaxing from a tight snarl to a fuzzy purr.

She clicks her tongue, turning away to refill the kettle. “You like chai? Yoshino got me some.”

He nods. “Sure.”

Kushina takes out two teacups, orders Zenitsu to wash the dirty cup, then firmly brews a fresh pot of chai. They spend the next few minutes in amicable busywork. A rhythm builds between them, complemented by clinking ceramic and bubbling water. It’s not the harmony that they used to have, because it might be even better.

As the leaves steep, Kushina clears her throat.

“This whole dating shtick - we just…” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “We just wanna have some fun. That's all. Before the next war screws us over, yanno?"

Zenitsu flinches. Kushina chuckles.

"There's always another war, Zen-teme. Did you think the peace would last?"

"Why wouldn’t it?"

"You probably know better than me. That's the point of Jiraiya's training, right? You have to know these things.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Zenitsu walks backwards, hitting a wall, then sinking to the floor.

Kushina rolls her eyes, pouring the tea. "For a bonafide genius, you're such a dumbass."

"I'm not a genius. Who told you that? I'll murder them."

Kushina shakes her head as she hands over Zenitsu’s cup, then drops to the floor, right next to him, knees knocking against each other. They sit in silence for a few seconds, which is apparently the limit of her patience. She idly twirls a finger around the tips of Zenitsu’s hair - the longest strands nearly reaching his hips.

"Sooooo. Go on. Tell me aaaaaall about your trip. Did you lose your V-card yet?"

"Kushina!! That's not something a gentleman shares with a lady!"

"Then it's a good thing my boyfriend isn't here and I'm not a lady."

Zenitsu chokes on his spit.

"Well??” Kushina sets aside her cup and commits to braiding Zenitsu’s hair. “Tell me all the details."

Zenitsu loosely rolls his eyes before sharing one of his less classified stories.

They chat through the whole afternoon. They toss teasing insults at each other, and they bark ugly laughs at crass, tasteless jokes. It’s nothing new. It’s nothing that they haven’t done before. But it feels new to Zenitsu. He doesn’t understand until he’s waving goodbye and leaving Kushina’s home.

They’re friends. He hung out with her like he would with his team, with Ino-Shika-Cho, or with any other boy. He’s never befriended a girl like Kushina before. Aoi, Kanao, and even darling Nezuko - he liked to think that they were friends. But he definitely wouldn’t gossip about people’s sex lives with them. That would’ve been disrespectful. Except if he tried that “respectful” shit with Kushina, she would drop him dead. So maybe… Maybe it wasn’t about respect? Or maybe Kushina’s just that different from other girls? Hmmm.

What would it have been like? To be friends with Aoi, Kanao, and Nezuko now? Maybe Aoi would hate him more. Maybe Nezuko would laugh at his jokes. Kanao probably wouldn’t react any differently, remaining politely tolerant of him. But maybe… Maybe she would like it… Maybe she wouldn’t mind being treated like a regular pal. Ha. That’s kinda hard to imagine.

… He misses them. He wishes…

Zenitsu shakes his head, finally reaching the apartment. There’s no point in wondering and wishing. There’s only today and tomorrow. The past is best left to rest.

==>

🌀🌊🌀

Minato left Konoha on a cold, winter morning at the end of January. He spent over a year under the careful, insightful tutelage of toads. Now, on a breezy and beautiful day in April, he's finally back at home. As if to welcome him, cherry blossoms float off the branches, threading through his uncut hair. He tilts up his head, basking in the warm, spring sunlight. With both eyes closed, he doesn't notice the pair of genin staring at him, stricken fully by awe. They're so awestruck that they crash face first into a tree.

"It's good to be home," he murmurs to himself. Then he hikes up his backpack as he returns his focus on the road ahead.

If he wanted to, he could've returned directly to the flat he shares with Zen-nii. But he's been gone for so long. He wants to savor the sights of his village in a more leisurely fashion. He breathes in the fresh spring air, noting the hints of smoke and sulfur. He notes the repaired roads and new storefronts, including a sizeable weapons shop. He listens to the giggling chatter of excitable civilian girls, all murmuring about the hottest new guy in town. Their rabid, rapidfire speech is enough for Minato to pity the poor man.

"No. Fucking. Way."

Minato grins. Somewhere to his left, he hears a loud and heavy thump, as if someone just fainted. Before he could turn to offer help, Inuzuka Tsume wraps her arms around him and squeezes. At her feet, Kuromaru politely sits on his haunches and nods his head. Minato hides a grimace beneath his grin and barely manages to nod back.

"Minato! You beautiful asshole! Didya just get back??" She thankfully lets him go as she steps away to take a good look at him. "Shit. I expected this from seeing Zen-teme, but you really got tall, huh? Yer not a shrimpy wimp!"

Minato perks up, his smile softening like sweet butter on hotcakes. There's another thump.

"Oh! You've seen my brother around? Where is he?”

Tsume rolls her eyes. "Yeesh. Yer still such a brocon." Then she shrugs. "That's probably for the best. If you were picture perfect, it would be creepy."

Minato blinks, tilting his head. Tsume barks out a laugh, pats his shoulder, and guides him to a nearby stand. She buys him a skewer of chicken as she shares all the juciest gossip. Minato already heard most of it from the letters Zen-nii sent. So he does little more than nod when Tsume tells him that Kushina and Chouza hooked up. This seems to disappoint her.

"He's stepping out with yer girl! Ain't you gonna do something ‘bout it?"

Minato swallows his bite. "Who's my girl?"

"Are you kidding? Who else?!"

"You mean Kushina? She's not my girl. We never dated."

"I... But... AUGH!" Tsume chews on her leftover chicken. "Fuck you, man. Yer making me feel bad for that bitch. Screw this. I'm outta here."

Tsume flings her skewer into the air, which Kuromaru happily leaps up to snatch. They both walk away, without a word or a wave goodbye. Minato watches them disappear into the crowd, wearing the barest hint of a frown. Kushina and Tsume have yet to reconcile, apparently. That's... unfortunate.

But speak of the bijuu, an all-too familiar ocean of chakra races down the street, towards him.

"Minato?!" Kushina yells.

She barely avoids crashing into him, stopping at the absolute last second. He would've caught her, of course. But he didn't need to. She skids across the dirt, kicking up dust into the air. He wrinkles his nose and coughs repeatedly.

"Ku-Kushina... He-llo..."

The dust clears. Uzumaki Kushina stands, radiant and wrathful beneath the late spring sun. She’s shorter than him now, but she’s grown in other ways. She seems less brittle somehow, less like a glass pane holding up an anvil. She can stand with both feet planted, radiating cheer as a warning and a challenge. As if to emphasize this, her hair remains long and viciously red, writhing like a conquering banner in the cold breeze. The sight eases something somewhere within him even as she studies him with a suspicious squint.

"You... "

"Me?" Minato chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. "It's good to see you again. You look..."

Amazing? That sounds a little trite. Lovely? That sounds like he's trying too hard. Delightful? That sounds like something Jiraiya-sensei would say.

“You’re so skinny!!” Kushina blurts out. “Did they not feed you on Toad Mountain?”

Minato tries not to pout. He actually developed more muscles during his time with the toads. Ma Toad even complimented his physique, admiring his “broad shoulders” and “strong back”. He isn’t the boney beanpole that he was at thirteen. Sure, he’s definitely thin compared to Chouza, but no one can compete with an Akimichi in terms of size. That’s just not fair.

“Man,” Kushina continues, shaking her head and smirking. “You look like such a sissy. That’s good.”

Minato blinks. “It is?”

“Uhuh. Now, I don’t gotta come up with a new nickname, Sissy Boy!”

“If you keep calling him that, don’t cry when he leaves you for a hot guy,” a familiar voice floats through the air.

Minato shifts to the side, looking over Kushina’s shoulder, smiling wide enough to hurt. “Ze- eh?”

“You know that sissy is another way to call someone gay, right?” Zen-nii tells Kushina. “You’re basically shooting yourself in the foot.”

Minato tunes out Kushina’s response as he stares, stunned stupid, at Zenitsu’s bright orange hair. It’s a terrible dye job since his blond roots remain very visible, and for some unfathomable reason, the tips are an obnoxious shade of red.

“-so shut up, Zen-teme!”

“What happened to your hair??” Minato squeaks out.

Zen-nii winces before attempting a cool facade. “Oh what? This? It’s called fashion, Minato. Get with the times.”

Kushina snorts. “We got drunk. I named him an honorary Uzumaki. Did you know that the conbini sells hair dye and it’s also open 24 hours?”

“I mean, it would have to. In a hidden village.” Zen-nii coughs into his fist. “Shinobi work weird hours. They could end up excluding half of their clientele.”

“It’s so orange,” Minato mumbles. Then he shuts his eyes and smacks a palm against his forehead. “I leave you alone for one year…”

“He wasn’t alone! I was here too, yanno!”

Minato gives Kushina a flat look. “Please tell me that washes out.”

“Maybe? It doesn’t matter. We can bleach it back to blonde.” She shrugs before shoving Minato forward. “C’mon! Let’s get outta the road! I wanna hear all about Toad Mountain, yanno!!”

“You mean Mt. Myoboku?”

“Sure, sure.” Zen-nii loops their arms together.

Minato can’t stop himself from staring at the badly dyed hair. It’s… obnoxiously orange. The shade reminds him of the toads - the poisonous ones with almost fluorescent skin. When he manages to pull his attention away, he finds Zen-nii and Kushina in the middle of a heated debate.

“Ramen!”

“Dango!”

“Ra-men!”

“Dan-go!”

Minato wisely keeps his mouth shut. Zen-nii eventually wins by shouting louder than Kushina, which is a fearsome feat. Then, they cheerfully drag Minato through the village, pointing out each new shop or building. Their combined volume is almost enough to drown out the stifled snickers and snide comments that follow them. Obviously, Minato is not the only one to notice Zen-nii’s hair.

But Zen-nii doesn’t seem to mind. He definitely heard them - his sensitive ears surely picked up all their mean mockery. But he doesn’t cry or whimper, holding his head high as he whines at Kushina. She taunts him in response then squeals when he tries to tackle her. The shops and buildings aren’t the only new things around here. Before he left, Kushina could barely stand Zen-nii, mostly because his dear older brother could never act normal around her. But now…

Zen-nii manages to wrap an arm around Kushina’s head, rubbing his knuckles against her scalp. She shrieks and bites his arm. There’s more flailing.

Minato missed so much.

They reach the dango shop with minimal injuries sustained. At least, the dango shop is a familiar sight. But it’s not completely the same. They added an awning on the side, creating shade for a cozy, outdoor dining space. Business must be good. Kushina drags him to an open table, sitting next to him, as Zen-nii grabs their food.

Minato tries his best to answer all her questions. The training was fun - very different and maybe a little weird. He didn’t say that to the toads because that would be rude. The toads were very nice to him, but they weren’t used to hosting a human. Their cuisine contained lots of bugs.

“Bugs?!?” Zen-nii yelps, returning with their dango plus a tray of tea. Under the afternoon sun, his orange hair appears to have caught on fire.

Minato squeezes his hands into fists, restraining all urges to cast a water jutsu and hose down his brother. He carefully stretches out his smile.

“Yes, bugs.”

“No way!” Zen-nii cries, a lock of orange hair slipping down his shoulder and touching a dango skewer.

Minato abruptly prefers a plateful of bugs and not these objectively delicious dango. He clears his throat as his belly tightens into a hard knot. He continues telling stories of Ma Toad and Pa Toad, emphasizing their good humor and hospitality. He carefully avoids explicit detail of the Sage training, especially its stony consequences. There’s no need to worry Zen-nii’s orange head over that.

They’re halfway finished with their snacks, and halfway through one of Minato’s stories, when Kushina slams her hands on the table.

“Okay, what’s wrong? You’re hi-key bumming me out!”

Minato does not meet her pointed glare, studying the pattern on his teacup. “Nothing.”

“Oh please.” He can feel her eyes rolling, no chakra sensing necessary. “We know that you can lie better than that. Just fess up.”

Zen-nii finishes chewing his dango, but he remains quiet. Huh. He should be panicking right about now, especially if there was anything wrong. But he’s just… sitting there. Waiting.

Minato’s eye twitches.“Can we bleach your hair tonight?”

Zen-nii raises one bemused eyebrow. “You hate it that much?”

Kushina leans closer, something soft presses against Minato’s arm. Oh wow. Those sure got big since he left.

“What? Do you hate red hair?”

“It’s orange.”

“Do you hate orange hair?”

Minato squeezes his teacup. “No, it’s not -” He shakes his head, facing Zen-nii fully. “You look less like me. We’re not twins anymore.”

“Uh what? You two were never identical!”

Zen-nii holds up a hand and Kushina frowns but sits back down. Zen-nii takes a deep breath which Minato mimics almost instinctively.

“Will this help?” Zen-nii forms a handseal. There’s a soft poof. The smoke disperses to reveal a perfectly blond Zen-nii.

Minato blinks. His brother just executed a jutsu all by himself. Zen-nii doesn’t need help anymore.

“You’ve gotten good at henge.”

“I got a lot of practice.”

Minato swallows a mouthful of sour spit, the sweetness of the dango completely absent from his tongue. He feels his eyes burn from the sting of salty tears forming. He clenches his jaw, blinking fast.

“What’s wrong now?!”

“He’s getting angry. Minato hates getting angry.”

Sage. There’s no hiding from Zen-nii’s ears.

“Wha - He can get angry? Sissy boy??”

“Uh yeah? Everyone can get angry, Kushina-chan.”

“Not him. I’ve never seen it.”

“Well, about that… My brother doesn’t like getting angry because he cries when he’s angry.”

“Do not,” Minato spits out through grit teeth.

Zen-nii waves a dismissive hand. “Do too. Look. You’re sooooo mad, right now.”

And with that, Minato activates his fully mastered Hiraishin.

The dango shop vanishes from view, replaced with the sprawling skyline of the village as seen from the Hokage Mountain. Minato rubs his eyes furiously, inhaling big lungfuls of air. He’s not crying. He’s not. There’s just too much dust in the air - or maybe it’s pollen. It’s spring, after all. He could have hay fever. He’s not crying.

“As I live and breathe…”

Minato swipes out a kunai as his body snaps into a fighting stance. In between heartbeats, his breathing tightens up and evens out, as instincts and muscle memory take over. His brain sets itself ablaze - running through a thousand different tactics and counterattacks, as he spins on his heel. And he finds himself face to face with the Third Hokage. He nearly drops his kunai.

“Lord Sarutobi!” He yelps, putting away his weapon and dropping to one knee.

It’s for the best. He’s a little dizzy, since his brain continues to burn - his thoughts cycling through at high-octane speeds. He becomes keenly aware of the ANBU guard nearby and prays that they don’t consider him an active threat. With the way his day is going, a night in T&I seems not only likely but also fitting.

“Was that… Minato, m’boy, was that Tobirama-sensei’s famed Hiraishin jutsu?”

Minato blinks at the ground beneath him. Surely Jiraiya-sensei, or even Orochimaru-san, told Lord Hokage that he’s been studying the Second’s work. Surely.

“Y…Yes. Was it not mentioned in my file?”

“It was. I simply thought… That is quite prodigious.”

It sounds like a compliment. But somehow, he can’t be sure.

“Walk with me, Minato.”

He does, brushing the dirt from his pants as he trails after the Hokage. Maybe Lord Sarutobi is mad that he left a marker up here. Maybe he was supposed to ask for permission first. He was ANBU when he left the marker so maybe it was fine then but now that he’s just a chuunin…

“Did you know that you were the youngest ANBU recruit in our village’s history?”

Minato did know. “The village is young yet. I’m sure that many more will surpass my record.”

The Hokage hums, deep lines carving into his face as he frowns. Oh. Minato said something wrong just now.

“I was happy to serve and protect my village,” he adds. “My captain took great care in my training.” He straightens his spine and lifts his chin. “But I am not deaf to my brother’s wisdom. And perhaps, I was selfish… I needed ANBU more than they needed me.”

This prompts the Hokage to pause, glancing at Minato from the corner of his eyes. Minato stares directly at him, smiling politely. A second passes, which is an eternity for a shinobi as highly trained as a Kage and his ANBU, current and former. The Hokage’s lips twitch up and he resumes his walk down the mountain trail.

“Jiraiya sings you and your brother praises. I can see now that those were not empty boasts.” The Hokage sighs. “My sensei, Lord Second, and his brother, Lord First, had always aimed to secure a better life for the children of this village. Mostly, this meant that the children should be allowed a childhood. I fear… Well, I am getting old. Perhaps my mind simply does not remember as it used to.”

“You were quite prodigious,” Minato replies, echoing the Hokage’s earlier words - the not-quite-a compliment. “You have seen us through more wars than both combined. Your successor will have a tough time surpassing you.”

The Hokage snorts, glancing at Minato again. “Hmph, Jiraiya also said that his students were quite cheeky. I see that was not understated either.”

Minato continues to smile, shameless. Well. He’s also afraid to change his expression on the small chance his insides decide to become outsides.

They reach the end of the mountain trail. The Hokage Tower entrance is only a few steps away. Lord Third pauses once more before turning to face Minato fully. His sharp eyes assess every part of him. Minato does his best to remain at ease. He’s got nothing to hide. He’s definitely not thinking that he just got back from Toad Mountain so he probably smells like toad spit from Ma Toad’s enthusiastic farewell kisses.

Also, he maybe has some chicken caught between his teeth. It’s just stuck in the gap and he barely noticed before but now, he can’t stop touching it with his tongue.

“And it seems that I’ll see the village through yet another war,” the Hokage tells him.

Minato barely avoids biting through his tongue. “Sir?”

“With war on the horizon once more, we will need clever and wise jounin to lead our teams.” The Hokage nods at Minato.

And with those final words, the Hokage enters the Hokage Tower, taking his whole entourage with him. Minato is all alone at the bottom of a rocky, mountain trail.

He breathes out, swaying slightly on his feet. Wow. It’s been only two hours - not even three - since he returned to Konoha. He’s done nothing but talk to people. And now, he’s exhausted - his brain got deep fried and he wants to sleep for a thousand years.

With a shake of his head, Minato turns around and starts climbing up the path. His thoughts buzz like a kicked hornet’s nest, twisting and turning over his conversation with the Hokage. As the sun starts to set, the orange sky reminds him of Zen-nii’s new hair color. Thoughts on that join the whirlwind raging in his head. He briefly considers throwing up as the knot in his belly squeezes hard.

He can’t stay up on the Hokage Mountain forever, not unless he gets his face carved on it. Ha. He did promise his brother, didn’t he? Once upon a time, long ago… Well. What’s one more change to add on that massive pile?

He breathes in deep and reminds himself that throwing up on Lord Second’s head is heavily discouraged. (But not outright forbidden. Haha.)

Minato wants so badly to train but he can’t stand the possibility of meeting up with old friends changed in new ways. He could feasibly practice senjutsu but he doubts that he can manage more than a light meditation. Unfortunately, he doesn’t really have other choices so he drops to the ground, crosses his legs, and concentrates.

It’s almost a relief to harmonize with the natural energies, tuning out himself in favor of the bigger world around him. Like this, the changes seem to matter less - the new and the old feel the same again. It soothes a yawning, cavernous maw within him. It’s always so hungry - not for food, not for water, but for something that he could never name. Minato likes to ignore it and usually, he can. Except on Mt. Myoboku, the maw cracked open just a little more, just a little bigger, growing a set of stony fangs that threatened to chew him up and spit him out.

Minato almost didn’t learn senjutsu. For some reason, he couldn’t sleep through the night. He felt like flotsam out in the open sea, without a port in sight. How funny, given his name. Tuning into the natural energies only made these feelings worse. Ma Toad and Pa Toad truly tried their best to help him. But there really was nothing more that they could do. Mt. Myoboku was beautiful and strange but welcoming and warm. Everyone wanted him to settle in, to be comfortable. And Minato simply couldn’t.

Then Jiraiya-sensei paid him a visit. His booming laugh was something so perfectly familiar. The maw crumbled close just a little bit. He brought letters from his brother, as well as small gifts. Zen-nii apparently started recording his songs. Minato has a walkman now, with three of Zen-nii’s tapes. It was easier to learn senjutsu with those tapes playing in the background. How funny.

Silence and stillness is essential to sage mode, nothing like Zen-nii’s vibrant, upbeat songs. But Ma Toad and Pa Toad nodded at each other as if everything made sense. So Minato nodded along because the maw had shrunk enough for him to ignore it again. He was back on track with his training. He could fuss over the details later.

It’s later now. He can’t concentrate on sage mode and the maw has grown twice over. He feels unbalanced, as if the whole world shifted two steps to the left in a foreign dance that Minato doesn’t know anything about. How funny. He’s supposed to be really fast but somehow, he gets left behind a lot.

Everything is just so very funny.

Minato gives up on senjutsu. He opens his eyes to find the sun has almost set. He must have been up here for a while. Sighing, he gets to his feet, stretching his limbs and popping his joints. Zen-nii is probably worried by now. But who knows? His brother is different now - more adult, more mature. Zen-nii grew up when Minato wasn’t looking. The maw digs deeper, darker.

He manages to avoid any familiar face on his way to the flat. Thank the Sage for small mercies. He almost worries that he won’t remember exactly which unit they live in. But unfortunately, his memory has yet to fail him.

Minato smells the flat before he sees it. The undeniable scent of potent chemicals wafts out from behind the closed door. He wishes that he was wrong somehow - that he went to the wrong place, except he could clearly hear Kushina and Zen-nii bickering inside. Fighting back a grimace, he holds his breath and enters.

Kushina rushes into the main room right as Minato slips off his shoes. Her hair is a frizzy mess, almost doubling in volume, and her skin is two shades paler than it should be. She peels off the mask and gloves from her face and hands before greeting him.

“What took ya so long?”

It’s not a very orthodox greeting.

"This place stinks,” Minato replies, because clearly, it’s not the time for proper manners. “Did you murder someone?"

Kushina blinks at him as if he’s gone crazy, and she wasn’t dressed like a morgue assistant in his flat which also smells like a morgue.

"Wh-Why the fuck is that your first question?"

"Because of the bleach?” Minato folds his brow. “It's like you cleaned up a crime scene."

"Ex-cuse you! We're not rank amateurs! If we wanted to hide a body, we wouldn't need bleach!"

"What Kushina means is..." Zen-nii steps out of the toilet, with hair the color of ripe wheat. "No, Minato. We didn't murder anyone. We bleached my hair back to blond. Like we said that we would. See?"

Zen-nii holds out a blond lock. Minato is at his side instantly. He compares their hair and finds himself pleased to see that the color is more similar than before. Zen-nii's hair was always two shades darker than his, less golden and almost amber in color, especially at the tips. Now, it was all yellow, just like Minato's. Maybe it would be nicer if it went back to the way it was. But it's a better change and at least it's not bright orange.

The maw seals some of its cracks.

He shifts his attention from Zen-nii to the flat. Since they moved right after leaving the hospital and before he went to Mt. Myoboku, Minato didn't get a chance to really inspect their new place. He finds... Nothing, really. The boxes remain in stacks against the walls. There's no new furniture or decor except for the kitchen table that their landlord so generously donated. Everything is exactly as Minato remembers when he left.

"You didn't unpack?" He turns to Zen-nii.

"I've been telling him to!” Kushina crosses his arms. “And I know this bastard heard me every single time. But he ignored me!"

Zen-nii rolls his eyes. "Well, duh! Minato likes to organize in a very specific way. I can't just put our stuff in random places! It's his home too." Zen-nii smiles at him. "Of course, I didn't unpack. I was waiting for you."

Kushina says something that’s probably witty and charming like she is. And yet, Minato finds himself unable to pay attention. Zen-nii's words rewind and replay in his mind as he stares at his big brother and his back to blond hair. In time, the natural color would've returned. There’s no need to go through the trouble of bleaching it. And surely, it was not comfortable to live with everything trapped in a box. But Zen-nii loves him…

"Are you crying??" Kushina's voice pierces through his thoughts.

Minato presses a hand against his cheek. Oh, it's wet. And he can't seem to see clearly. Everything's all blurry like he's looking through a waterfall.

"Kushina, I'll catch you tomorrow."

"What did I - Oh fine, Zen-teme." There's footsteps across their naked floorboards as the door clicks open. "Um... Get well soon? I guess?"

Then Kushina is gone. It's just him and his brother in their flat. Minato rubs his eyes, trying to bite back a sob. It coughs out his throat with spiteful force. How embarassing.

The door shuts and then Zen-nii's arms loop around him. The stench of bleach is more than enough to make him gag. Minato stays still for a whole second before he pushes Zen-nii away.

"Oh Mimi-chan..."

Minato shakes his head because he is sixteen and he is full grown and he's too big to be Mimi-chan. Lord Third even wants to promote him. He's going to be jounin!

"Okay, okay... But it's been a long day, yeah? We can take a bath then go to sleep."

No. The toilet stinks.

"Oh right. You know. You get used to the smell."

No.

"Okay."

By now, Minato's gotten enough control of his breathing and he finally manages to stop sobbing. Sage. He didn't mean to do that. He didn't mean to do any of that. And in front of Kushina?? He kind of wants to die, maybe.

Zen-nii snorts. "It's fine. She's seen worse."

Oh good.

"Hey, you know... This place is much better than our last one. You still have your camping gear with you?"

Minato raises an eyebrow but unseals his camping kit without question or complaint.

"You probably don't want to sleep in your futon without taking a bath, huh?"

"That would be unhygienic."

"Right, right, right. So let's do this."

Zen-nii grabs his camping kit from somewhere within the stacks of boxes. Then he gestures for Minato to follow him. They leave their flat entirely, climb up two flights of stairs, before finding a door labeled "Roof Access".

"We could've walked up the wall..."

"Ugh, you shinobi and your flashy ways."

Minato grins at the familiar complaint. "You know our last place had a roof too."

"Yeah, but just. C'mon!"

And Minato does.

On the roof of their new building, there's a quaint, little gazebo. It even has a fire pit and grill for barbecue parties and other festivities. There's an outdoor dining set, which has seen better days - fairly weather worn. But it all looks well used and well maintained.

"We're sleeping out here?"

"Do you wanna sleep in our stinky flat?"

"We're sleeping out here."

Zen-nii chuckles, messing up Minato's hair. "Brat."

They set up "camp". They don't bother with the tent, just spreading out their bedrolls. As they do, the village lights up below them. Streetlights and signs turn on as evening settles in. This way, they can't see any stars above them but Minato finds the man-made stars just as pretty.

Zen-nii tugs him close again, but this time, the open air significantly dissipates the stench of bleach. Minato wraps his arms around Zen-nii, squeezing tight.

"Welcome home, little brother."

Oh. The maw ceases to howl with hunger. It’s still there and Minato thinks that it will always be there for as long as he lives. But here and now, it’s smaller and easier to ignore, because of Zen-nii. Everything is always better because of Zen-nii.

"Mmm. I'm home.”

=WIP=>

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