Chapter Text
Trigger warning: Discussions of child abuse
“Why would you even say that?” Shisui groans. “You think we’re running out of time? Great, got any more dire premonitions to share with the group?”
Kagami gives him a flat look, “Well, your chances of leaving this encounter without my foot going – ”
“Onee-chan,” Sakura sighs, “we’ve talked about threats of bodily harm. Tsunade says we can’t do that until we’re at least chuunin.”
“I am a chuunin,” Kagami grumbles, but backs down after Sakura pins her with a pointed look.
Shisui resists the urge to inflame the situation, the natural troublemaker in him rising up, and instead tries to redirect the conversation.
“So, why don’t you want to use a corpse for a body?” He asks, curious.
Kagami frowns, but not the chilling death glare she once aimed at him, just a slight, thoughtful furrow between her brows.
“I… don’t know,” she says finally, “I used to. I could remember most things, I just couldn’t say them. But now… things are becoming…”
“Blurry,” Shisui supplies.
Kagami’s eyes narrow, but she nods.
“I’m no expert on extra souls being housed inside minds,” Shisui says regretfully, shaking his head at his own woeful ignorance on such an important topic, “but it seems as though your presence here is not dissimilar to an invasive jutsu. Sometimes, if someone is under the influence of a mind-altering technique for a long time, the mind stretches to accommodate it. Even with the jutsu gone, the marks sometimes remain. I think Sakura’s mind is trying to make room for you, but it’s yet to recover from the violent nature of your arrival. Iza – ”
His monologue halts, the hated name on his tongue.
Sakura’s face falls, having been listening intently, but Kagami merely rolls her eyes.
“He said he tried to get into Sakura’s mind the easy way, because if he broke her mind by accident then ‘there’s no retrieving it.’” Kagami says pensively. “He certainly seemed to think my presence here was bad for Sakura. He called me a ‘lodestone, an anchor around her neck, a leech desperately clinging to life.’”
“Man, he’s such a dick,” Shisui says, unable to help himself.
Sakura frowns at him. It’s somehow harder to bear than Kagami’s was. Sakura’s clearly been spending too much time with Fugaku.
“Sorry, Firefly. But I don’t know how much faith we should have in that guy’s words. I don’t think we can trust anything he ever said.”
“He said when he was in my head, all he heard was screaming,” Sakura says, her voice very quiet and raw, “like my mind was something scary – ”
“That’s only because the entire time he was here, I was yelling at him,” Kagami says bluntly.
Sakura blinks up at her.
Shisui beams, suddenly delighted, “What?”
Kagami looks defensive, “he was some weirdo latching onto Sakura’s brain to gain entry, what was I supposed to do? Roll out the welcome mat?”
“You yelled at Izanagi. You scared him,” Shisui says gleefully, forgetting for a moment the inherent taboo in the masked man’s name, “Kagami, I know we’ve had our differences, but I think it’s in our best interests to become friends.”
Kagami looks bewildered.
“Let’s put a pin in that for now, and come back to it when it’s time for friendship bracelets. If you really don’t want to use a corpse, then a puppet truly is the next best option. It’s just a matter of finding a suitable puppet and stealing Suna’s scrolls on the process of – ”
“I was just going to ask Sasori to give Onee-chan a puppet,” Sakura says, “She’s got a whole speech prepared to persuade him and everything!”
Shisui looks at Kagami, raising an eyebrow in question.
“I remember him. He was obsessed with preserving beauty and immortality. If Sakura tells him she wants to be a child forever, he might make it his next project. It’s more likely that he’d either try to kill Sakura outright, or make a puppet out of her himself, but if that happened, I’m confident I could kill him on my own. I’m stronger than I was the first time. And he’s a threat we’ll need to face either way,” Kagami says, a deep, pensive line etched between her brows.
“Oba-san said if we do ask Sasori for help, we should bring you.” Sakura says brightly, bouncing up and down. “Our first real mission together!”
Shisui can’t help but smile at the thought.
“Jiraiya and Naruto have been working on the soul transference seal for years, and they’ve only just completed it. If we really are running out of time, we shouldn’t waste this opportunity. If there’s a way to remove me from Sakura’s mind, it should happen as soon as possible. Sakura deserves a life of her own,” Kagami says, her tone brooking no arguments, despite Sakura’s woeful look.
How would Sakura adjust without Kagami? It’s true that Kagami’s presence brought trauma and danger to Sakura’s life, but she also bolstered Sakura’s chakra and strength, and developed an entirely new method of reading people through her sensor abilities. Losing all of that would leave Sakura vulnerable.
Not to mention the psychological and emotional ramifications of a dual-souled body becoming one…
Still, the possibility of Kagami and Sakura blending together inextricably was not something Shisui could allow. And if Izanagi really was just after Kagami, separating her from Sakura could only be a good thing.
“I’d prefer it if we just stole a puppet from Sasori and figured out how to reverse-engineer the process from there, but if you’re confident you can beat him – ” Shisui began, but Kagami cut him off with an uncharacteristic smile.
“I beat him almost at the cost of my life last time. I would have died without Chiyo. I probably wouldn’t have lasted five minutes against him without her on my own.” She says, shaking her head ruefully.
“You’re filling me with confidence here, I’m almost overflowing,” Shisui replies.
“I’m older, wiser, and most importantly, I know all his tricks. I know how to make the antidotes to all of his poisons. I know all of his puppets, how they function, their strengths and weaknesses. And I know how to kill him,” Kagami says, a hard glint in her eyes, “and I won’t have to do it alone. We’re a team, right?”
Her confident tone wavers at the last sentence, and Shisui senses a long-buried pain emerging in her voice.
“Yes! We’re a secret club with three members, and Shisui can be team captain!” Sakura says, positively vibrating with excitement.
“Why me?” Shisui laughs, “I’m the brains of this operation, I can’t also be the leader! Unless you pay me a bonus, then it’s fine, naturally.”
“You outrank both of us,” Sakura points out, “I’m a graduated Academy student.”
Kagami grimaces, “I’m… technically just a chuunin…”
“I’m a disgraced jounin,” Shisui shrugs.
“That’s just as good as Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura says, “so I guess you win!”
“No, no, no, team captain isn’t based on rank, it’s based on your attitude in the field,” Shisui says, “I’m the wisecracking sidekick who stays in the back and follows orders unless they’re stupid. Kagami’s the secret weapon we only unveil at the last minute. And Sakura’s the one with people skills. So obviously, she should be the leader.”
Sakura’s mouth opens in surprise as she digests his words.
Kagami puffs out an amused breath, biting back a smile, “I’m fine with that.”
“All those in favour of Sakura being team leader say ‘Firefly!’” Shisui says, raising his hand.
Kagami rolls her eyes, but copies him, with a much more muted, “Firefly.”
Sakura stares up at them both, rocking from side to side, clearly a little nervous, “I’m in charge?”
“You’re the captain of this vessel, my dear.” Shisui says, taking off an imaginary hat and bowing with it close to his chest. “That means you get to steer it.”
Sakura’s pirate phase had ended a while back, but he can still see a flicker of interest perk her up at his words.
“Okay,” She says, a slow smile creeping onto her face, “Then let’s go get Sasori!”
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It was three years ago, when he was fifteen, still uncertain of himself and his new role as the heir of the Senju clan, forever waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him.
Tenzo had wanted to go to the Academy as Tsunade had suggested, but the Hokage had pointed out that he was on record as jounin-level in terms of skill and would simply be wasting his time by attending school.
Tenzo wouldn’t have minded having children as classmates, having watched Sakura come home from the Academy with a stack of homework and full of stories of her day. Shizune packed her lunch on Sunday nights, since Sakura only stayed with them on the weekends, and they all waved her off every Monday morning. Tenzo had hoped he could one day walk with her, that perhaps Tsunade would take him shopping just like she had with Sakura, getting him a special lunchbox with matching stationary, and he would have a class of his own. But those were only silly, childish hopes, and he swallowed them down, not wanting to cause trouble for Tsunade.
But instead, he was given a new hitae-ate, and ushered into a classroom.
Two other genin were already seated in the classroom, looking up at him with matching looks of intrigue. The boy is holding a small notebook, a pen tucked behind his ear.
“Three genin,” The girl says, sounding satisfied, “we must be a team. Don’t you think, Yakushi?”
Yakushi shrugs. He’s short, around Tenzo’s height, with silver hair and round glasses. His fingers are stained with ink, the knuckles smooth and unmarked. The hands of an academic.
“Nice to meet you.” The girl stands up, offering a hand to Tenzo. She’s obviously an Uchiha, with dark hair and matching eyes, her complexion pale. There’s a neat little scar under her jaw, a nick that went deep. Someone hit her carotid artery with great precision.
Tenzo takes her hand. Her palm is rough, and when they shake, he glimpses shiny burn scars marring her flesh, spanning all the way up to her fingertips.
“I’m Uchiha Izumi,” She says, not smiling, but her eyes are warm, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“I am, um, I’m Senju Tenzo,” he says, unable to keep from sounding uncertain. Her hand tightens around his briefly, before letting go altogether.
“Ah, that explains it. I’d heard Tsunade-sama came back to Konoha with her children, but I didn’t realise any were old enough to be genin,” Izumi says, as if there’s nothing unusual about his family situation. He feels a rush of warmth in response, grateful for her lack of shock.
“I know your little sister.” Yakushi offers, shutting his notebook and standing up in one smooth motion. He sticks his hand out, and it’s soft when Tenzo takes it, with a faintly chemical smell. His nails are clean and neatly trimmed.
“Sakura?” Tenzo says, feeling his lips quirk up in a smile, unbidden. He has a brother and sister now, something so beyond his ability to imagine, he’d never even considered it. If he had, it would never have come close to the reality of it, having two small children look up to him and trust him implicitly. Trust, loyalty, love, it’s all so new to him and yet they offer it freely, as if it comes easily to them.
“Unless you have another,” Yakushi says, a sly smile playing about his lips, “she’s come to the hospital a few times for check-ups. She seems like a sweet kid.”
“Haruno Sakura, right?” Izumi says. “I’ve seen her around the Compound. She’s friends with my cousins.”
“It seems everyone knows your little sister,” Yakushi says, amused.
Tenzo only shrugs. Sakura is a very friendly child, prone to wandering the village and befriending whomever she encounters. If she didn’t have that overgrown crow of a bodyguard, he would be more concerned about it, but for now it seems like a harmless quirk.
He still remembers the mixture of horror and awe he’d felt when she revealed her Mokuton to him.
At that point, he’d realised exactly who she must be.
He’d always thought he was the only survivor of Orochimaru’s experiments, and since Sakura was born after the man had left the village, perhaps he was. But Sakura’s powers, her questionable heritage, Tsunade’s unnecessary adoption despite her living parents, and the undeniable interest Danzo had taken in her – it all seemed to lead to the same conclusion.
Sakura was just like Tenzo. She’d either been born in ROOT’s labs, or taken there when she was young, too young to remember, and then altered. The same cells that grew in him lived in her. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t feel it, even when she used her powers in his presence. It was the only logical explanation.
Tsunade had rescued them both from ROOT, giving them a second chance at life. Tenzo had watched Naruto very carefully for signs of Mokuton but hadn’t seen anything yet. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be careful. Tenzo would not let him be ripped from his new life as the baby of the Senju clan, he would do his duty as big brother and keep him safe.
“I’m Yakushi Kabuto,” The bespectacled boy says, something sheepish in his manner, “if we are to be teammates, I suppose I would be the team medic.”
“Senju Tenzo,” he said again, not sure how many times you should introduce yourself in one conversation, but unwilling to appear rude, “I don’t know what role I would have. Infiltration, perhaps?”
In ROOT, he had done many things. He had been used as a scout to find safe passage through enemy territory, as a spy underground to record secret assignations, and as an assassin, blending in so perfectly with his environment that his targets met their deaths without ever knowing it.
He thinks his smile might be slipping again, judging by the faint concern creasing Izumi’s brow. Facial expressions were not only encouraged now, they were expected, and a lack of clear emotion was now considered suspicious or concerning. Before, his face was as blank as a mask, the result of years of careful training, leaving him without any tell-tale signs of weakness. He was not praised for it, because a soldier of ROOT does not need praise, but he was never punished, and so he knew he was performing adequately.
He allows himself a small, artificial wince, as if feeling awkward, and plasters on a more sincere-looking smile.
Izumi scrunches her nose at him – which he takes for encouragement, as it is coupled by an actual smile of her own – and throws her hands up.
“Guess that makes me the heavy hitter,” she says cheerfully.
“If we’re actually a team,” Kabuto reminds them, “it’s possible we’ve been brought together just to complete a mission.”
“Speaking as the only person in the room who’s ever actually been on a mission, there’s no way.” Izumi shook her head, the first sign of that classic Uchiha arrogance creeping into her tone. “We would’ve been summoned to the Hokage Tower, not a random classroom in the Academy.”
“Oh, have you been on a mission, Izumi-san?” Kabuto asks with exaggerated interest, “I had no idea. You’ve never mentioned it before. Why hide such an impressive accomplishment?”
Izumi’s lips purse.
Tenzo was unsure what to make of the brief exchange – Izumi had shown a small amount of arrogance, Kabuto had responded with obvious false interest, and in turn Izumi had reacted with irritation. What did it mean? Were they friends? Enemies?
He wonders if he should mention the fact that he has also been on missions, just like Izumi. Would Kabuto pretend to be interested? Would Izumi welcome the information or feel threatened by his experience?
He decides to keep quiet, as it is always the safest course of action. He cannot speak about ROOT without risking himself and others, so he would not be able to explain his experience anyway. He watches them and their bright, mobile faces, expressions flashing across their features quicker than he can track, and thinks they wouldn’t understand, anyway. Masks would not suit them. Their faces were not meant to be hidden.
The door opens without a sound. Tenzo purposefully doesn’t react, then realises he was supposed to when Izumi jerks up and Kabuto looks around.
A jounin walks in, a coolly assessing look in his eyes.
Tenzo edges towards the other genin in the room, his mind automatically creating and discarding scenarios in which he could protect them in case the stranger turns hostile.
“Good morning.” The jounin says, placing a stack of papers on the desk. “It’s time for your futures to begin, if you’re ready.”
Tenzo regards that as an extremely suspicious thing to say, but Kabuto and Izumi merely seem interested.
Then the man holds up three headbands, each one bearing the symbol of the village, flashing in the mid-morning light.
Tenzo stares, surprised by the longing that aches inside him at the sight of it.
“These will be your rewards… provided you prove worthy.”
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Sakura climbs out of the Uchiha shrine, politely ignoring Shisui’s proffered hand, since she’s big now and can do most things on her own.
“Sasori, huh?” Shisui makes a face, cracking his neck with a groan. “Seems like a huge risk. I’m all for it.”
“We can do it,” Sakura says with quiet confidence, “we’ve done great things before.”
“Damn straight. Now, Sakura, I really need you to keep this a secret, okay? Don’t tell your little Yamanaka friend, or Naruto, or any of the Monsters. I know you’re not an idiot, but sometimes things slip out, right? And this has to be kept just between us. I’ll take you back home, make sure your bodyguard never even notices you were gone,” Shisui says, solemnity softening his voice, rare enough to hear from him that Sakura finds herself nodding obediently before he’s even finished talking.
There isn’t even a sound to warn them.
Sakura simply looks down and notices tree roots curled around Shisui’s ankles. She goes to shout a warning, but then her back meets someone’s front, a warm presence just behind her, and a hand covers her eyes.
“Don’t look, Sakura,” Tenzo says, heavy with repressed anger, “he has Sharingan.”
Shisui sounds peevish, “duh. What the hell’s this for?”
“For taking my little sister from her room at night, carrying her across the village under cover of darkness, and telling her to ‘keep this a secret,’” Tenzo almost growls, “I do not know what you’ve done, but you will never, ever hurt Sakura again.”
There’s a loud crack.
Shisui cries out.
“No!” Sakura yells, shoving Tenzo’s hand away to see Shisui now buried up to his neck in the ground, having been yanked down. “Tenzo-nii, Shisui didn’t do anything wrong! I was sleepwalking and he found me, and we were just talking about my nightmare, and then he was going to take me home! He’s not hurt me, I swear!”
“Then what secret was he asking you to keep?” Tenzo asks with deadly calm. He takes hold of Sakura’s hand in a tight but painless grip.
Sakura hesitates, looking to Shisui for assistance. He’s squirming in the dirt, face flushed from exertion and anger.
“Tell me, Uchiha, or I’ll – ”
“Tenzo-nii!” Sakura struggles to free herself from Tenzo’s hold. “Trust me, please! I can’t tell you what the secret is because it’s not mine to tell, okay? But I promise it’s not bad and Shisui hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“If you think I will ever allow this boy near you again – ” Tenzo begins hotly, his usually flat tone alive with unbridled fury.
“Okay, okay.” Shisui sighs, sagging until his cheek hits the dirt. “Let me out and I’ll tell you everything. It’ll be good for Sakura to have someone else in her life in the know.”
“You will tell me everything now. I will let you out afterwards, but I will not risk you simply erasing my memories the second I free you,” Tenzo insists.
Shisui’s face makes it clear that that is exactly what he had planned to do.
He tips his head back, letting out a pained groan, “Fine. If you’re happy to discuss Sakura’s deepest secrets out in the open, I’m game.”
Tenzo pats Sakura’s hand, then releases it. He forms seals and Shisui’s body lurches up out of the ground, encased in the trunk of a brand new tree, growing higher and higher as Tenzo’s chakra soars. Shisui melts through the trunk with a startled yelp.
“Follow me, Sakura.” Tenzo says kindly, leading her to the base of the tree. “Let’s figure this mess out together.”
And with that, he takes her hand and guides her through the tree trunk, stepping through the bark and into the centre of the hollowed-out tree itself.
“There. Now we are not out in the open and I have no need to fear your eyes meddling with my mind,” Tenzo says, now as calm as leaves on a mild spring morning. He always feels the most comfortable when surrounded by plants, especially his own.
Sakura stares at their surroundings, walled in by the tree on all sides, with barely enough space for the three of them to sit down atop the clustered mass of roots. It feels wonderfully secure, but not the same as the pleasant atmosphere of their treehouse.
Shisui is now stuck in the wall opposite the one Sakura and Tenzo entered through, his face sour and extremely displeased.
“Great. This isn’t in any way uncomfortable or nightmarish,” Shisui says, as flippant as ever.
“Glad to hear it. Now I’d like to know exactly what you were doing with my seven-year-old sister alone in the night,” Tenzo replies coldly.
“Phrase that in a different way, for the love of god,” Shisui cringes so hard it actually looks painful, “ugh. Why the hell should I trust you with any information? For all I know, you’re the one that’s a threat to Sakura. Or do you think I don’t know exactly where Tsunade found you?”
Tenzo’s expression tightens, “I am no longer what I used to be. I’m the heir of the Senju clan and I won’t tolerate any threats to it. Besides, it doesn’t matter if you trust me or not. You don’t have a choice. You might be faster than me under normal circumstances, but right now you’re in the middle of my technique, under my power, and you will do as I say. Tell me everything, leaving nothing out, or risk us being discovered here and questioned by shinobi less merciful than myself.”
Shisui closes his eyes for a long, tense moment, his jaw clenching minutely.
Sakura and Tenzo sit down at the base of the roots, waiting for him to make his choice. Sakura’s unsure of her options here. She can’t overpower Tenzo and doesn’t want to even attempt it. She can’t free Shisui without risking him doing exactly what Tenzo suggested he would – brainwash him into forgetting the events of the evening. Although that would be the most logical course of action, it’s unthinkable to allow Shisui to turn those eyes on someone she considers an older brother, someone who’d spent his entire life being used and controlled by others. No, she can’t do it. She still remembers the horror of the moment when Shisui used her to lure Kabuto into falling under his control. Shisui hadn’t warned her of what he would do then, nor did he give any sign of what he would later do to her on Izanagi’s orders.
She’s forgiven him, but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten what he is capable of.
Finally, his eyes open, not the wild blood red of the Sharingan, but his ordinary dark, shrewd gaze. He examines Tenzo, giving a grim little nod as if understanding what he sees before him, “I get it. It’s time someone else knows. It may as well be someone I know cares about Sakura and is capable of keeping his mouth shut. What do you think, Firefly?”
He’s not asking if she wants to tell Tenzo the truth, he’s asking if he should know everything. Her kekkei genkai, scars, Kagami, Izanagi. Everything. She can tell by his slightly too-wide eyes, how they land on her forehead, just above her eyes, like he’s looking through her to find Kagami, seeking her permission.
Kagami nods. Yamato-sensei was kind. You can trust him.
“It’s fine. I just… Tenzo-nii, please don’t get upset or think of me differently when you hear this, okay? It’s really important. I’m still the same,” Sakura entreats him, big, beseeching eyes looking up at his face. She takes his hand in hers, her small ones struggling to cover the span of his calloused palm and rough knuckles.
“Of course,” Tenzo says.
Sakura compresses her lips together to stop them from trembling.
And then, with Tenzo’s gentle hand covering hers, she tells him the truth, from start to finish.
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Tenzo’s potential new team spent three days together at the jounin’s behest, Yamanaka Inoichi encouraging them to play games together to build their teamwork, with Kabuto’s initial nerves melting away over time, and Izumi’s hard front beginning to crack. Tenzo merely completed each game as requested, answering questions when answered, doing his best to emulate the teens’ facial expressions and the cadence of their speech. He’d found himself analysing their characters without meaning to, becoming aware of the chip on Izumi’s shoulder and the deep-seated insecurities Kabuto veiled with pleasant smiles and an eager-to-please attitude.
Finally, Yamanaka places three folders in front of each of them.
“It’s time for the test to see if the three of you are capable of moving on to the next stage,” The man says, his tone business-like, but the sharp intensity of his gaze gives away his interest in the outcome, “in these folders are three secrets. Each of you must memorise your own secret and find out at least one of the others. If you give away your secret, you fail. If you do not find out one of the other’s secrets, you fail.”
Izumi’s mouth hangs open in outrage, unable to even speak under the weight of her own indignation.
Kabuto hurries to do it for her, saying, “I thought this was supposed to be a test to determine if we could become a genin team together. Are you suggesting that we cannot all pass?”
Tenzo simply watches them all, categorising Yamanaka’s stoic expression, Izumi’s unfeigned self-righteous anger, and Kabuto’s veiled, downturned gaze.
“That is correct,” Yamanaka says, “if any of you do not know at least one more secret than you have been given, you will fail. If you do know another secret, you will pass. This is not a team exercise. I expect you to consider each other enemies for the foreseeable future. Konoha has no use for shinobi that cannot operate under circumstances that require deception and subterfuge, even among people you would expect to be your allies. Only one of you can pass. Good luck.”
With that, smoke obscures his departure, and Tenzo feels himself sink back into the ROOT mindset. He has a mission and his enemies are clear: the Uchiha girl yelling at the smoke, using anger to cover her despair at her inevitable failure, and the frazzled-looking bespectacled teen.
He almost snatches the folders, fingers twitching to form seals that would kill both targets and secure his goal. But then, he looks down at his hands, preparing the technique, and abruptly stills.
Sakura had very shyly pressed a bracelet of flowers into his hand that very morning. Bluebells dripped from his wrist, spelling out the little girl’s gratitude, cherry blossoms almost acting as her signature, with daisies, irises, and small, yellow roses all completing the circle of bright colours standing out against his pale skin. Skin that Tsunade had assured him was pale only through lack of sunlight, and that one day would deepen to a rich tan. His wrist was thick with corded muscle, but Shizune had tutted over him, promising him once he’d started her meal plan, his physical health would improve tenfold. And the hand he had begun to form seals with was the hand Naruto most often seized when he wanted to play, dragging Tenzo through the garden, telling him they were monsters chasing after bad guys.
Tenzo had been puzzled, questioning why monsters would eat bad guys when they themselves were bad guys, surely. Naruto had just laughed, telling him monsters are good, just people who don’t fit in. Like Naruto, so inexplicably hated by the people around them. Like Sakura, her sweet personality masking the same power that had been grafted into Tenzo’s soul. Like Tenzo himself, wanting so desperately to believe that this life was really his, but knowing deep down that he doesn’t deserve it. He isn’t a person, not like Naruto or Sakura. He’s a monster, fit only to be sent after the bad guys who are beyond the reach of good guys.
Izumi snaps her fingers in front of his face. “Hey, Senju! Are you okay? You spaced out.”
Tenzo blinks, then turns to Kabuto, a sudden urgency colouring his voice, “Kabuto-san, when we completed the personality tests on the second day, you stated that you have already been placed with several genin teams, but that your teammates all graduated without you. Do you need to pass this test the most?”
Kabuto’s head tilts for a split second, just a tiny indication of curiosity, before he holds his hands up, self-effacing. “Honestly, I’ve had my chance more times than I deserved. I blew it over and over again. If anything, you two need to pass more than me, since you’re clan kids, and I bet you’re both under a lot of pressure to succeed. I’m surprised you’re not already chuunin.”
Izumi chews the inside of her cheek, not looking at either of them.
“M-my… my clan,” Tenzo says, the words coming out shaky and uncertain, “are very informal and have no interest in pushing me into doing anything. If I fail today, they won’t mind. Izumi-san must need to pass the most.”
Izumi slams her fist down on the desk. “I don’t need your pity! Either I pass or fail on my own merit, but I won’t be handed anything for nothing!”
“Think about it,” Kabuto says, his tone wheedling, “if you haven’t passed before – ”
“I have,” Izumi says with sudden, savage pride, “I passed my test and became a genin a year ago, and all three of us were well on our way to becoming chuunin, and then we were given a mission that turned out to be a trap, and my whole team was killed.”
Even Tenzo is surprised, leaning back in his seat to give the girl some semblance of space.
“I was tortured for information but I held out, I didn’t give anything away. Not even when they killed them in front of me, one by one,” Izumi says, a fierce glint in her eye masking the oncoming flood of tears, “I already gave up my team for the mission once. This was supposed to be my second chance. Like hell I’m gonna throw my team to the wolves for the chance to pass some shitty test.”
“Well, I’m going to fail, because both of you deserve to pass more than I do. My secret is this: ‘a wren flies through the brambles on unknowing wings.’” Tenzo says, ignoring Izumi’s furious glare.
“Mine is ‘western winds bring favourable tides,’” Kabuto supplies. There is something almost like approval in his eyes as he nods back at Tenzo, though for some reason his mouth is twisted in faux anxiety.
Izumi opens her mouth, very clearly about to share her secret and doom them all to failure, but Tenzo spreads his hands and leaves gently sprout from her mouth, vines wrapping around the lower half of her face, muffling her voice.
Kabuto ducks his head, not quite fast enough to hide the amusement glittering in his eyes.
“You found out our secrets while protecting your own, Izumi-san,” Tenzo says with quiet satisfaction, “you’ve passed for sure.”
Yamanaka takes a while to return to the classroom, long enough that Kabuto has had to sever some of Izumi’s muscles and Tenzo’s vines now span the length and width of her entire body minus her head. She fought hard to free herself, clearly furious at being forced into betraying them. Tenzo spent the time waiting for Yamanaka talking in low tones with Kabuto, listening to stories about his job at the hospital. It was quite unfortunate that they weren’t actually meant to become a team, he thought to himself. If I was a person, I think I would like them both very much.
The door opens and the jounin strides in, sparing Izumi only a quick look of vague bemusement before pinning Tenzo with his inscrutable gaze.
“If anyone has learned another’s secrets, please share them now,” Yamanaka says.
Kabuto and Tenzo say nothing. Tenzo releases Izumi, hoping she’ll not waste their sacrifice. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been thrown back in the limbo of being a genin without a team. She’d had terrible luck and suffered greatly. Ensuring she is placed on the path back to regular missions and the normality of genin life will be worth the three days Tenzo had wasted trying to join a team that didn’t exist.
Izumi flexes her jaw, raising her eyebrows repeatedly and scrunching her face up, apparently testing her range of motion after spending so long forced into still silence.
Her glare is lethal, but not pointed at Tenzo or Kabuto. Instead, it lands directly on Yamanaka.
“I don’t know anything,” she says with quiet, palpable menace.
“That isn’t true. She found out mine and Tenzo’s secrets within minutes.” Kabuto says, pushing his glasses up.
Tenzo nods emphatically.
Yamanaka turns to regard Izumi, “…Well?”
Her glare dials up a few notches, “I. Don’t. Know. Anything.”
“You do realise that even if you protect their secrets, you won’t be helping them. You’ll all fail,” Yamanaka says.
Izumi tosses her head, lips pressed together in a thin line of annoyance.
Yamanaka’s pale, eerie eyes sweep over the other occupants of the room. “And you don’t know anything either, I suppose?”
Tenzo simply nods once more, content with his decision. It would have been nice if Izumi had passed, but he couldn’t force her. And if he could have come back to the Senju residence with good news, proving he’d passed a test meant for Konoha shinobi, not tools, it would have been… Well. It would have been good. He can’t deny that. But he doesn’t regret it either.
“You all know of my clan’s jutsu, correct? You know I can examine your minds and extract the secrets by force, if needs be. If you don’t willingly share what you know and I have to resort to that, you will automatically fail. Well? Are you all still going to pretend not to know anything?”
The three of them remain silent.
“I have to say, I’m surprised to see the pride of the Uchiha fail such an easy, basic test,” Yamanaka says, Izumi’s jaw clenching in response, “and when I heard I was going to test the heir of the Senju clan, I assumed he would be the one to succeed, no matter what methods he had to use. Of course, I hadn’t had much hope for the drop-out. Even this Academy-level mission would be beyond his skills.”
Tenzo frowns at him, shaking his head, unsure how else to subtly convey to the others that the jounin’s words were false and unfair. He couldn’t use subtler means, like simply reassuring them with a single glance, his facial muscles unused to such delicate tasks. In that moment, he was filled with a fervent wish that he could show as much as everyone else. If they could see what he felt reflected on his face, they might think he was more than what he was. They might mistake him for one of their own.
“Izumi-san and Kabuto-san would have succeeded if the test had been proper and fair,” Tenzo says, not balking when Yamanaka swings his fearsome glare on him. Tenzo has seen far worse from much more frightening individuals. “There is no need to be insulting.”
“You have one more chance,” Yamanaka snaps, “tell me what you know.”
“We don’t know anything,” Tenzo says, the finality in his tone sealing the moment.
There is a long stretch of silence, Izumi closing her eyes in resignation, Kabuto placing his hands on his thighs like he’s preparing to stand and leave, failure an axe hanging over their heads.
Then, to his astonishment, Yamanaka’s harsh expression lifts, his uncompromising air vanishing at once, and a genuine smile spreads across his face.
“Then, congratulations, Team Inoichi. You pass.”
xxxxxxxx
Izanagi sits on the stone wall overlooking the newly-sprouted tree that contains Sakura, Shisui, and the ROOT boy.
The three had disappeared inside the trunk fifteen minutes ago and showed no signs of emerging anytime soon.
It was interesting to see Sakura and Shisui evidently hadn’t stopped using the shrine as a meeting place, even after he infiltrated it. It spoke to either their foolishness or certainty that he would not return.
It was true that he hadn’t given much thought to returning to Konoha for the past few years, spending his time sowing the seeds to eventually reap across the shinobi villages, working to slowly reclaim the advantage he had lost during his efforts in Konoha. He hadn’t wanted to return, not after that awful, visceral shock – the blade’s sickening impact, the way Sakura’s little chest had all too easily given way, the warm gush of blood – of the moment he almost ruined his own plans for good.
Disconnecting had been the right choice. He had become irrational, fixating on the possibility of premature success, resenting Uchiha Shisui for who he almost was, and had lost sight of the endgame.
It seems he may have returned at the perfect time, given the whispers currently sweeping through the village. He hadn’t even missed the loss of his vessel, Usagi, since these whispers were strong enough that he had not even had to walk the streets to hear them. Discord, suspicion, prejudice, all pointed squarely at the large, foreboding compound, a powder keg primed to go off at the slightest push. He could admire a job well done.
At this point, there were still options open to him. He could intervene, plant false evidence or lead someone to find the real truth, he could assassinate those responsible or join forces to ensure their success.
He has considered the matter very carefully.
Sakura is still too young.
Her plan to recruit Sasori was amusing, though the possibility of the man actually backstabbing her to permanently obtain her body as a puppet was considerably less so. He would have to ensure he was close by to prevent any irreversible issues. Separating Kagami could only be a boon, since her parasitic nature was delaying Sakura’s development. Having the girl’s disembodied spirit contained within a puppet body would be useful, though obviously a corpse would be preferable.
Is it really too early? Izanagi muses. Sakura has already graduated the Academy and has a decent grasp of healing and enhanced strength. The Mokuton is irrelevant. I can take steps to keep the girl pliable and obedient if needed, and it doesn’t seem as though she requires constant care at this point. But no… I’m just being impatient once again. She is protected by the Senju, her bodyguard, the numerous jounin surrounding her, and even the Kyuubi boy is well-positioned in her life. The chances of her untimely death are low. I can wait, she will grow, and if all goes according to plan, it won’t be long before all of this will become worth it.
When Sakura finally leaves the village for the first time since seeking out Tsunade, Izanagi will shadow her every step.
***
Hello, friends!
PSA: I am not currently accepting constructive criticism for this fic.
No this fic is not abandoned, I’m just trapped down a well and the signal is so weak down here my dudes, also I’m getting tired of doggy paddling but that’s less important –
So, on a serious note, this year I discovered a fic that shares far too many similarities with TFLA for me to feel comfortable (I won’t name the fic because it might not be copied and I really don’t want the author to get hassled over it regardless), and it’s sapped my motivation for writing in general. I’ve been working on TFLA on and off since 2017, it’s been incredibly fun and difficult, especially while battling executive dysfunction the entire time, so to see someone potentially plagiarise my writing has been extremely upsetting.
However! I know where this story is going and how to get there, so I’m going to continue to work hard to take you guys with me all the way until the end. Thank you for sticking around despite my inconsistency.
Part of why I wrote so much Tenzo POV here was to show how unreliable Sakura is as a narrator – despite her future knowledge and ability to read emotions from chakra, she had no clue about Tenzo’s internal struggles accepting his place in the Senju clan. Unlearning the conditioning he’s been going through his whole life was never going to happen overnight. Being on a ragtag team of misfits with Kabuto, Izumi, and Inoichi really helped.
And now Sakura’s big brother knows the truth!
Izanagi is back and bitchier than ever.
If you liked the chapter, please let me know!
Quick poll for fun: If you could have any superpower, what would you have?
I’ve always wanted teleportation, but I fear the reality of it might be horrifying… would you have to be able to perfectly visualise exactly where you were teleporting and just hope that it was an empty space? What happens if there’s already someone standing there? Do you land on them or get spliced with them? Horrific implications all round, but it would remove the need for public transport.
Wings might be a better alternative but honestly I’d probably get shot down with my luck.
(Dogwatch Pupdate: No dogs in this chapter, so my irl dog will have to do! Flora is a cavalier spaniel and this Christmas she’s got her own dog friendly advent calendar. Sometimes she gets so excited she honks like a goose. If there’s fireworks, she’ll claw her way up my body like a ladder to get to safety, which is apparently my face. Wonderful to be appreciated)