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Chapter Text

Naruto Uzumaki, Lord Seventh Hokage, had absolutely no reason to travel back in time. When he was younger and more naïve, he may have desired to undo some of the tragic losses in his life, but the man he was now knew that such things were an inevitable, even necessary part of his life.

He was much older and wiser than he had been during the Fourth Shinobi War. He knew better than to go fooling around with the laws of nature.

Theoretically, time travel was possible. Nothing in what shinobi knew of physics and the laws of causality directly contradicted this. There were even some who claimed it had been done before, who claimed to know of people who knew of scrolls which held such powerful and forbidden techniques, and while there was no definitive proof that any of these alleged time travel jutsu were authentic, scholars on such matters generally agreed that there was always a chance.

Which was why the Lord Seventh Hokage went to such lengths to seal away any and all such jutsu scrolls he came across. Whether they worked or not, it was Naruto's opinion that time travel was something far too dangerous to be risked.

He had no desire to find out if any of those so-called time travel jutsu actually worked. As far as he was concerned, the risks far, far, FAR outweighed any of the meager potential benefits.

The world was at peace. It wasn't a perfect utopia by any means, and there were still occasional, limited conflicts, but compared to the uneasy, watchful peace of his youth, and the all-out chaos of his teenage years, what the hidden villages had now was like a dream.

So much effort had been put into forging and upholding these truces, these good-will pacts of limited mutual disarmament and demilitarization, that Konoha's honorable Nanadaime saw the possibility of time travel as nothing but a headache just waiting to happen. The alliances, the promises, the slowly and painstakingly established friendships which had enabled all of this to be achieved were all just too valuable to be thrown away in a fit of piqué.

He was not about to let anyone stupidly undo all of the work he and the other kage had done, especially not anyone so full of themselves as to honestly think that they could do better. Nothing was perfect. What they had now was as close as Naruto believed they would ever achieve within his lifetime.

So he wasn't about to let anyone go and start fucking up everything he and his comrades had sacrificed so much to accomplish.

Naruto Uzumaki had no reason to go back in time. Some things may not have turned out how he would have wanted, but the risk of undoing all of the good was just too high, too appalling, to even consider.

Unfortunately for the Lord Seventh Hokage, however...

...the Powers That Be would apparently beg to differ.

When the thirty-five year old Naruto woke up in a filthy, dank apartment, his first instinct was to wonder if Kiba had dragged him off to some dump on a bender. His second instinct, upon getting out of bed only to stumble over his own feet and land flat on his face, was to wonder what the hell his drinks had been spiked with.

It wasn't until he stood and shook his head, looking around and narrowing his eyes, that he realized something was very amiss. The scale of this room was all off. It was far too big for an ordinary person.

He wasn't exactly the tallest guy around, but he wasn't a shrimp either. And Naruto hadn't been this close to being at eye level with a doorknob while standing straight up since...

...well, since he was just a kid.

"I swear, if this is Yamato's idea of a prank..." the Lord Seventh muttered, scowling and grumbling about wood style users with terrible senses of humor.

Standing back up, Naruto extended his chakra senses, expecting to find a telltale trace of the ANBU captain's pine-scented essence.

What he found instead left him extremely bemused.

He was SURROUNDED by unfamiliar chakra signatures. And while maybe only one or two of those signatures were actually within a dozen meters of him, it was still suspicious enough to make him frown.

Naruto crossed his arms, wondering absently why they felt... scrawnier than he remembered.

He was very proud of his sensory ninjutsu. Years of refining his technique with help from Karin-neechan had enabled him to wield considerable empathic powers even without tapping into Kurama's chakra. Even half asleep and possibly hungover, Naruto had a rough maximum sensory range of one hundred kilometers.

If he dipped into Kurama's chakra, his area of perception would easily encompass almost the entirety of the elemental nations. And while Naruto wasn't anywhere near obsessive enough to try and commit every one of those innumerable chakra signatures to memory (particularly since his ability to detect life was acute enough to even pick out individual microscopic organisms, if he focused), to feel only two or three immediately familiar auras within his entire base range of perception was distinctly worrying.

The signatures he did recognize, however, were sufficiently reassuring to head off any hints of tension that might have otherwise begun to surface.

When Sasuke Uchiha woke up that morning, the first thing he noticed was that he had two arms.

For most people, this would have been entirely reasonable, even expected. But Sasuke had not had a full left arm since his teenage years, when the limb had been blown off in a clash of obscenely high-powered jutsu between him and his closest friend/fiercest rival.

So to wake up with one was... disconcerting, and vaguely annoying, to say the least.

After the end of the Fourth Secret War, Naruto and most of those closest to Sasuke had almost immediately forgiven and forgotten all of his many transgressions between the ages of thirteen and seventeen, ranging from defection, attempted murder, high treason, assassinating the acting hokage, several more counts of attempted murder, and trying to spark a continent-wide revolution.

They were happy to have him back, and liked to pretend that none of that stuff had ever really happened. Tsunade and Sakura had even tried to hook him up with a Shodai-putty prosthetic shortly after the war.

But Sasuke had refused this offer.

Vehemently.

Partly, his reasoning had to do with the fact that the idea of replacing his missing arm with a bunch of mutant adult stem cells from a man who had died around half a century ago was just gross. He couldn't even stand drinking from another person's canteen, and they expected him to be fine and dandy with gluing some sort of tree-man corpse-tumor onto the stump of his elbow?

Yeah, no. His fight with Kabuto had left Sasuke borderline paranoid about body modification. That naked chick crawling out of the man's chest and flashing him with her lifeless clone tits had been traumatizing enough. He didn't want to have the stem cells of some long-dead Senju fused to his shoulder.

That would be just a little too Madara for his tastes.

Of course, aside from the Uchiha's squeamishness there was also the underlying motivation of atonement.

He may have been forgiven for most of the shit he had done leading up to the Fourth Shinobi War, and even that halfhearted, almost immediately-thwarted plot to assassinate the Gokage, but he had still done wrong by a LOT of people. Maybe he'd had his reasons at the time, but the man he was now refused to forgive himself all of the awful things his younger self had done.

He had to live with his mistakes, and try to make up for his many transgressions. He did his best to remember all of the wrongs he had done, chiefly so he would never go off and do them again.

He lost his arm trying to kill Naruto – his best friend.

In Sasuke's opinion, replacing that arm would be like saying it no longer mattered that he had attempted to murder one of the only people to keep faith in him all the way up to the bitter end. Naruto had believed in him, and done his damnedest to save Sasuke from his inner demons even when the Uchiha had personally been doing his college best to rip out the Uzumaki's throat.

He had tried to kill Naruto with his left arm. He had attempted to commit an unforgivable sin with that hand.

Dimly, he remembered hearing a bit of foreign scripture in his post-war travels that spoke of cutting off any part of yourself that caused you to sin, saying that it was better to go into paradise a cripple than to suffer eternal damnation fully intact.

Sasuke didn't know about anything else that monk had said, but that much at least had rung true with him. So much so that he had almost attempted to pluck out his own eyes then and there.

The holy man had been highly disturbed by this, apparently having meant his sermon in a much less literal sense than Sasuke had taken it, and only reluctantly had the Uchiha listened to the man's request to please not mutilate himself right in front of the children.

Whatever his ultimate reasoning, though, Sasuke had stubbornly refused to ever replace the arm he had lost. No matter how hard his friends tried to convince him otherwise.

And on at least one memorable occasion, his wife had even secretly grafted on a new arm in his sleep.

It had taken the hungover Sasuke half the day to realize what Sakura had done, that time, and when he did he'd irritably ripped the arm off at the elbow and flung it aside.

Much to the visiting daimyo's distress.

So.

Feeling this new replacement arm, Sasuke figured that Sakura or Naruto had probably taken another shot at convincing him to replace his missing hand.

He did not appreciate the gesture.

"Dammit, you guys..." he muttered, irritably grabbing the offending limb in his hand. "What part of 'I don't want a new arm!' can't you understand?"

Casually, and effortlessly, Sasuke flicked his wrist and ripped off this most recent replacement limb.

It took him a second to register the blood.

And by the time he did, the blinding pain was almost bad enough to keep him from focusing long enough to cauterize the wound with an emergency kagutsuchi.

Well.

That was unexpected.

Sakura was the first one to realize she had traveled back in time. Mostly because:

1.) She had woken up in a bed only big enough for one.

2.) She appeared to have been sleeping in her childhood bedroom.

3.) Her childhood home had been destroyed by Pain's big ass Shinra Tensei over a decade ago.

4.) Even if that house and her bedroom had still been intact and standing, her childhood bedroom should have felt much smaller to her adult self.

And

5.) Her chest was completely devoid of anything even remotely resembling actual boobs.

This last detail was the most telling, because while it was possible that someone could have built a perfect replica of her childhood bedroom and scaled it up to freak her out (which sounded like just the kind of collaborative prank that Naruto, Sai, and Ino might pull off if they were feeling especially bored), Sakura felt reasonably certain she would have noticed undergoing any kind of breast reduction surgery.

Also, whatever this was, it sure as hell wasn't a genjutsu. She'd had enough kinky illusion sex with her husband in his tsukuyomi to know most intimately when something was and wasn't real.

So, adding all of these details together (and taking a peek at the calendar just to be sure) Sakura felt it was pretty safe to say that she had somehow traveled back in time. And judging by the almost complete flatness of her chest, she reckoned that her current body was somewhere around twelve or thirteen.

Fortunately, her chakra reserves seemed to be completely intact, or else this could have been a Very Bad Thing.

As it was, Sakura just hoped she wasn't the only one to have wound up in the past, or else this was going to be a very long, very boring wait.

Hinata was immediately aware of one thing when she woke up:

Her husband was not in bed next to her.

Activating her byakugan, she saw that he also wasn't anywhere in the house. Also, that this wasn't their house.

Half asleep and distinctly horny, Hinata felt exceptionally grateful in advance for being married to one of the most vigorous and generous lovers alive. She also felt very little patience for anyone who might try to get in between her and her husband.

Hinata's feelings for Naruto had strongly defined a considerable portion of her life. Her admiration for his determined spirit had led her to try and improve and overcome her own weakness. Her love for him had led her to take action multiple times in her teenage years, where she otherwise would have stood aside and let someone else come to the rescue.

And the mature, more erotic love she felt for Naruto as his wife had let the former Hyuuga heiress overcome much of her old shyness and bashfulness. She was by no means without shame or restraint, but when it came to her husband she could be shockingly bold.

Which is probably why the first thing Hinata did upon standing up from her futon was to blow through the nearest wall with an over-powered vacuum palm. And also why the second thing she did was to stalk off the premises of the Hyuuga manor, heading as the crow flies straight towards the unmistakable beacon of her husband's chakra.

The fact that this entailed blasting her way through many more walls and branch house members, while dressed in nothing but her (admittedly conservative) pajamas, did not bother her in the slightest.

Hinata Uzumaki had pined over a decade for Naruto before he had finally come to reciprocate her feelings. She was not about to let anything keep her from seeking him out and showing him her love.

Over and over and over again.

Good news: I'm still in Konoha.

This was Naruto's first thought after stumbling his way, half naked, out of that vaguely familiar apartment. He still felt dreadfully hungover, and the open sunlight was like a pair of red hot daggers being stabbed into his skull.

He was distracted from the murderous headache, however (stupid Kurama never letting him use his chakra to fix those fucking hangovers... grumble grumble...) by the sight of the hokage monument.

Bad news?

There were only four faces.

It looks like I'm in the past.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God-fucking-dammit.

This realization naturally put the Lord Seventh Hokage in an extremely foul mood. He had sealed away all those alleged time travel jutsu scrolls for a very good reason.

"I better not be the only one here..." he muttered, dressed in just boxers and an undershirt, looking down irritably at his much scrawnier twelve year old body.

Had he ever actually been this SMALL? It seemed inconceivable.

He was then distracted from his thoughts by a very familiar flare of distinctive fire chakra roughly in the direction of Sasuke's old apartment. It was quite small, considering the sort of things Sasuke usually broke that jutsu out for. Probably no more than a little flicker of flame.

And it disappeared almost immediately too. Humming thoughtfully, Naruto noticed that Sasuke seemed to be in a good deal of pain – physical rather than emotional, for once, although there was a much smaller degree of distress directly associated to that sudden spike of ow.

Cocking an eye curiously, Naruto then zoomed in on Sakura's signature.

She seemed mildly annoyed, but it was well within the standard deviation. People got annoyed all the time over little, meaningless things. Often when dealing with him.

Naruto was perfectly accustomed to that sort of feedback, and it didn't raise any of his eyebrows.

Something he DID notice, however, was a not-so-distant growing throng of slight surprise and confusion, along with a very familiar flavor of desire attached to a chakra signature he knew as well as that of his own kids.

Despite their current circumstances, Naruto couldn't help the cheerful grin that came onto his face. He could tear a new one out of whatever asshole had landed them in the past later. For now, however, he had a frustrated wife in need of some stress relief.

And he could do with blowing off some irritation, too.

"Hello, dear!" Naruto said to Hinata Uzumaki nee Hyuuga. "How are you feeling?"

The twelve or thirteen year old Hinata gave her twelve or so year old husband a curious, but also intense, look.

"...Naruto?" she said wonderingly, having long ago dropped the -kun honorific. If there was anyone she could reasonably address with the intimacy of a first name basis, it was the Lord Seventh Hokage and father of her children.

Naruto sweatdropped, seeing the befuddled expression on his wife's face.

"...yeah, it looks like we're in the past," he commented.

Hinata frowned.

"So... Bolt and Himawari...?" she murmured, her expression falling.

Naruto winced. He squinted, looking a touch anxious.

"Yeah... I'm sure we can find a way back, but..."

Hinata smiled softly.

"They'll be alright for a little while," she whispered. "Until we can return to our own time, at least."

Naruto grinned, and took his wife's hand.

"Yeah... until then," he murmured. Then his expression turned foxy, and he grinned at Hinata. "Want to go inside, m'dear?" he said with a playful wink.

Hinata giggled, and batted her eyes at him.

"Mm, but of course," she said in a tone that would have been quite husky if her present body were capable of producing such sounds.

Naruto picked her up in a bridal carry, and brought her in over the threshold.

Ten minutes later, a very angry and flustered looking Naruto stormed right back out of his apartment. He was fully dressed, now, glaring down at his own crotch, and radiating a generous amount of killing intent.

Those inhabiting the floors below him in the apartment complex promptly experienced an inexplicable, simultaneous loosening of their bowels. One particularly elderly tenant even suffered a brief heart attack, though fortunately it was while their children were visiting, and thus able to get them immediate medical attention.

Hinata came out of the apartment a moment later, still dressed in her conservative, unrevealing night clothes. She was smiling weakly at Naruto, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, dear," she said softly. "I hear it happens to most men now and then."

Naruto spared a forced smile for his wife, before glaring once more down at his groin.

His eye twitched.

"...I'm gonna kill whoever got us thrown back in time," he growled. "Fuck causality, fuck the laws of nature. I don't even care about that garbage anymore... multiverse theory or some shit, I don't know..."

He threw his head back, then, tearing out fistfuls of his hair and screaming in frustration.

"BUT I AM NOT GOING THROUGH PUBERTY AGAIN!"

Chapter Text

"Sigh. What am I going to do with you, Sasuke?"

These were the first words the Uchiha heard upon his return to consciousness, after drifting in a haze of blinding pain for an indeterminate length of time. Ripping off that prosthetic arm had apparently not been such a good idea, considering how the blood proceeded to get everywhere.

"I should be asking you that, hon," Sasuke chuckled weakly, grinning at the face of his wife. His vision was still a touch blurry from the tears that welled up in response to the inexplicable agony which shot up from the stump of his arm, but he would have recognized that shade of pink anywhere.

He felt his wife's chakra fluctuate by the most microscopic fraction of a percentage as she flicked one of her hands over a badly charred elbow. As he blinked the saline out of his eyes, he could begin to make out the minuscule chakra scalpels which delicately chipped away at the burnt tissue, surgically excising the useless flesh a tiny bit at a time whilst simultaneously exhorting the healthy cells to split up and replace the damaged ones.

No matter how many times he watched Sakura at work, Sasuke could never get over how damned hypnotic her medical jutsu was. It was entrancing in a way he couldn't really explain. His sharinnegan – as a tipsy Konohamaru had once famously dubbed it – let him see the finest details of her mystic palm technique, and the infinite subtlety of Sakura's chakra control never ceased to fascinate him.

It was one of the odder reasons to find a woman attractive, he supposed, but something about Sakura's medical ninjutsu just left Sasuke Uchiha all but completely incapable of tearing his eyes away. He marveled at her skill, the absolute confidence and precision with which she worked.

His visual prowess gave Sasuke an aesthetic appreciation for his wife's medical skills that surpassed even the pragmatic gratefulness for her healing abilities. Her every motion was exactly as she meant it to be, her chakra doing nothing she did not will it to.

It was sublime. Watching Sakura do her thing as a medic was like watching one of the renaissance masters at work. She had absolute control of her hands and her chakra.

"Like what you see?" Sakura teased her husband, seeing his eyes on her hands... which also meant that his gaze just so happened to be on level with her chest.

Sasuke blinked, then, suddenly realizing something.

Hearing Sakura's voice a second time, he now had the clarity of mind to perceive a curious oddity. She didn't have the subtle rasp, or slightest purring tenor she had come to possess as a mature, fully grown woman. The aural texture of her voice was less rich than Sasuke was accustomed to, less aged and refined. He heard less of a resonance in her torso, less depth and richness in her tone.

If Sasuke didn't know any better, he would have said it sounded almost like Sakura was...

He blinked again, his eyes flicking momentarily from Sakura's hands.

He stared at his wife's chest for several silent seconds.

"...huh," he said at length, staring at what should have been at least a modest swell. "I know I said I liked them on the smaller side anyways, but... what happened to your breasts?"

"The same thing that has happened to your little kusanagi, I'm sure," said Sakura frankly, smiling down at her husband.

Sasuke's eyes wandered up from his wife's presently non-existent rack, and he stared blankly at her face. Particularly her forehead, which appeared to be completely devoid of something to which he had become very accustomed over the years.

"And the same as what's happened to your seal of a hundred strengths?" he wondered.

A beat.

Sakura's previous statement finally got through his skull, and Sasuke's sharingan/rinnegan combo widened.

"Wait," he said, his voice sounding far more high pitched than it should have in his sudden distress. "What's happened to my penis?"

Sakura smiled sheepishly at her husband.

"I'd say... about negative twenty-three years," she quipped.

Ko was a member of the Hyuuga clan's branch house. He was adequately skilled with the gentle fist, and possessed a byakugan of average strength. In no way was he terribly remarkable, save perhaps that he was one of the younger branch house members currently in active service.

Neji was younger still, of course, but the young teen was also Ko's superior in skill. Plus he rather vehemently and openly loathed the main house of the Hyuuga, so there were naturally certain duties that could not exactly be entrusted to him.

This was not to say, of course, that Neji was the only cadet branch member to dislike the main branch. Bitter feelings ran deep between the two houses of the Hyuuga clan, and many of the lesser clansmen fairly resented their treatment at the hands of the few, elite main branch members.

Ko himself had enough reason to mutter darkly about the clan elders and their policies, and he was not exactly the clan head's biggest fan. But he was also a reasonable, responsible young man. He did not begrudge the duties laid at his feet as a member of the branch house – the basic idea was little different from what most shinobi did for the village, and he took a small amount of pride in the thought of being trusted to protect the secrets of the byakugan from those who might try to steal it.

Dying for the sake of the clan was a noble, even admirable act. Most Hyuuga, branch house or main, would say that such a death would be a good one. This was something both parties agreed on.

The caged bird seal was unpleasant, perhaps, inasmuch as the fact that it basically served as a convenient kill switch for uppity branch house members, but keeping the clan's kekkei genkai from being stolen by ambitious corpse-robbers was a high priority. The seal's main purpose was to destroy all genetic markers involved in activating the byakugan, as well as sealing away the eyes themselves.

This much, at least, was reasonable. Many clans had similar procedures for eliminating any biological traces of their secret arts or bloodline limits. If there was any chance of enemies being able to get their hands on a corpse, it was standard procedure to destroy any and all evidence that might enable people to reverse engineer the techniques or medications which empowered their shinobi.

Frying the brain with a handseal was technically just a side-effect of the caged bird seal's original, primary purpose. While this "side-effect" had been used in the past to keep members of the branch house in line, Ko and most of his peers also knew that even the most hardline, callous SOBs in the main branch frowned heavily on the careless use of that particular feature.

Even if they were expected to live out almost the entirety of their natural lives as meat shields and body doubles for the chosen few elite, kin were still kin. The Hyuuga, being a very old and powerful family, were every bit as clannish as the Uchiha or Senju. Binding the majority of their relatives with powerful, brain-nuking curse seals was not that much worse than some of the other traditions to have survived from the Warring States Era.

With the exception of a few unfortunate souls like Neji, most cadet branch Hyuuga could accept the caged bird seal, and the role as expendable shields to protect the main branch. They were a ninja clan, after all: such things were an integral facet of their existence.

Where Ko and many other branch house members drew the line, however, were things like THIS.

"Hinata-sama... please return home with me. Your father would like a word with you."

Ko looked at the girl with a grimace, hoping she didn't notice the slight shiver that raced through him when she returned his glance, or hear the faint whimper that he couldn't quite manage to choke back when she smiled at him.

It was always the nice, quiet ones, wasn't it? When they snapped, they snapped hard.

And, considering the swathe of destruction Hinata had carved on her way out of the Hyuuga estate, Ko felt fairly justified in his assessment that the poor thing had finally cracked under the pressure.

A part of him pitied her, knowing how much stress the lass had been under to try and meet her father's expectations.

The rest of him was absolutely terrified.

Sure, up until today Hinata had seemed like the kindest, gentlest, most innocent and harmless little girl ever... but they said Itachi had seemed like a nice kid too, and look where HE wound up.

As Hyuuga went, Ko was not remarkable in any way. He was of average height, average build, average skill, and average looks. If you were to chart all the various aspects of Hyuuga clan members and draw up a theoretical median for each of their different traits, the overall result would probably look a lot like Ko.

Basically, he was just one step up from nameless fodder. He had about as much character as a Star Trek redshirt, and roughly equivalent chances of surviving any kind of serious shit. If so much as a gentle breeze wafted through the Hyuuga estate, Ko would be one of the first casualties.

He was completely expendable, and he damn well knew it. Which was probably why he was mentally cursing Hiashi and his ancestors to the seventh generation (which also happened to include a number of Ko's own predecessors) as he valiantly tried to convince the seemingly-snapped Hinata to return with him peacefully to the manor.

Hopefully, she wouldn't decide to kill him TOO painfully.

Sasuke stared at his wife. It took him several long minutes to process what she was saying.

"What."

His words were as flat as his wife's chest, his expression as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

"We're in the past, dear," Sakura repeated more explicitly. "Back to about the age of twelve, if my calendar is right. Which it probably is, seeing how fastidious I've always been about such things."

Sasuke blinked owlishly.

He sat up in his bed, looking down blankly at the stump of his left arm.

"...well, that certainly explains the blood," he said blandly. "And the pain."

He looked over at the freshly discarded arm which lay at the foot of his dresser. The skin was pale, and the amount of blood on the floor and the upholstery would probably mean hours of cleaning. Sasuke's bedsheets were thankfully much less red, a quick and almost reflexive application of his EMS flame control having stemmed the bloodloss mere fractions of a second after it had started.

"Yes, it does," said Sakura, audibly tutting at her husband's impulsiveness. "That wasn't a prosthetic. Not that you should have ripped it off even if it was one..."

The Uchiha clan head at least had the decency to look vaguely contrite.

"I never would have expected to wake up in the past," he commented. "It's hard to believe what you're saying. I probably wouldn't, if not for certain pieces of evidence..." He glanced again at his wife's chest. "...Do you have any idea how this might have happened?"

Sakura shook her head.

"No, and I'm not sure who else might have come back with us, either," she said, before pausing and frowning worriedly. "Er... You know, assuming we're not the only ones who've come back in time."

She didn't sound very hopeful in that regard.

Sasuke hummed thoughtfully. He glanced around his room for a moment, before nodding his head and speaking up again.

"Naruto's a given, at least," he said. "I just know that, somehow or other, this has something to do with him."

A beat.

Sakura chuckled wryly, nodding in agreement as she wrapped some gauze around the stump of Sasuke's arm.

"He does have a habit of winding up at the center of these kinds of things, doesn't he?" she mused.

Hinata stared at the branch house clan member who had just come running up to her. He was shaking like a leaf and sweating bullets, talking to her like one might talk to a rabid dog they all but knew was going to bite them.

She frowned subtly, detecting that Naruto had inched sideways from her as well. In his case, of course, he was clearly trying to act inconspicuous and make it look like his presence here next to the Hyuuga clan's present heiress was just an innocent coincidence.

Logically, Hinata understood why her husband would want to try and avoid complicating matters by letting on that he was in a relationship with her, since originally at this point in time Naruto had barely even registered her existence.

It still irked her a little, though. While she was sympathetic to her husband's earlier plight in the bedroom, and could tend to herself well enough until such a time as he was able to resume his marital duties, that didn't mean she liked the thought of having to distance herself from him.

She'd already EARNED her happy ending, dammit! She didn't want to go through the motions all over again until such a time as they could reasonably get back together without drawing any undue attention from the wrong people.

"...sooo...um, if you would p-p-please be so k-kind, Hinata-sama..." Ko was stammering, trying futilely to coax the clan heiress into coming back to the estate with him.

It was a rather pathetic sight, honestly.

Hinata frowned. Inwardly, she felt a tiny bit sheepish.

Knowing now that she was in the past, it made sense that certain of her actions that morning may have led her family to make particular wild assumptions. In this time she wasn't known as the Seventh Hokage's wife, Konoha's very own yamato nadeshiko incarnate. She was just a delicate wallflower, here, a quiet and insecure young kunoichi who also unfortunately had the weight of the Hyuuga clan shoved onto her shoulders by a miserable accident of birth.

Feeling the slightest hint of irritation, Hinata grabbed her husband by the collar. He had been trying to skulk off, which was a perfectly sensible course of action in this instance, but Hinata was NOT feeling particularly sensible at the moment.

Unconsciously, and unintentionally, Hinata let loose a tiny bit of killing intent in silent frustration, yanking Naruto closer. Compared to what she could do if she got serious, the bloodlust she projected right now was barely the lightest tickling of a feather on the back of one's neck.

Relatively speaking.

Objectively, seeing as how this was a kunoichi on par with the best of the best, in combat ability and mastery of her arts able to rival the likes of Itachi Uchiha or Kakashi Hatake in their prime, it was still some damn serious sakki.

Ko, the poor fellow, very nearly pissed his pants.

Sasuke looked at himself in the mirror, Sakura standing a little ways off behind him. He could not help but be amazed at how young they both looked. Aside from his now-missing left arm, and Sakura's now-sensibly trimmed hair, the two of looked remarkably like the fresh genin in their old team photo.

Well, aside from Sasuke's sharinnegan... and their overall demeanor, as well. She was more sure and confident in her poise, where he was more laidback and mellow. Neither of them was the same person they had been when last they were at this young age.

Time had changed them: time, and hardship, and Naruto Uzumaki. They were adults; full grown shinobi.

Parents.

"I hope Sarada is doing okay without us," Sasuke whispered, staring at the reflection of his face.

He could see his daughter in so many aspects of his youthful visage, in his cheekbones, his chin, and the shape of his eyes. A part of him wondered, idly, whether she had indeed inherited the genes for these eyes, the sharingan which blazed back at him from his reflection.

Another part of him hoped she hadn't, hoped that she could live a happy and peaceful life without ever having to worry about feeling too much, without ever having to fear the descent into madness which would surely come if she lost the ones most precious to her.

He wished he could have many children, give his daughter many little brothers and sisters to dote on and play with and tease. Sakura had broached the subject with him more than once, but every time she had raised the possibility, his mind's eye had flooded with images of his own family, of himself and Itachi, and the bloody, twisted cords of love and hatred which had bound their fates together.

And every time, without fail, he would feel the burning in his eyes, the tears of blood flowing down his cheeks, and know that no matter what else he did, he could never let himself subject his precious, beloved daughter to those same vile temptations which had nearly destroyed his clan and driven him into the deepest depths of darkness.

"I hope that multiverse theory is accurate," Sakura added, seeing the emotions which flickered across her husband's face. "Or else... she might already no longer exist."

She glanced meaningfully at Sasuke's missing arm, and he scowled.

"It better be accurate," the Uchiha clan head growled. "Because I won't hesitate to rip the space-time continuum apart at the seams if it means getting to see her again."

Sakura nodded, and silently prayed that it wouldn't come to that.

Considering the level of power he and Naruto wielded, Sasuke's threat was hardly idle.

"Until then, though," she said, interrupting her love's dark thoughts, "would you be a dear and help me reapply my yin seal? Considering the changes you've already made, I suppose it probably can't hurt to be prepared."

Sasuke looked sidelong at his wife, smiling softly.

"How long do you think it will take you to charge it up?" he asked her.

Sakura waved a hand dismissively.

"Our chakra came back with our minds," she said. "We may be in our twelve year old bodies, but we have all the control and capacity that we did as adults. It should only take me a week or so to fill up my byakugou no in to a workable level. And that's pumping her up from scratch, mind you."

Sasuke nodded.

"Fair enough," he said. "That's pretty convenient."

"Explains how you could rip your arm right off, too," Sakura added. "You have the same control as your future self, so it's a simple matter to unconsciously boost your physical capabilities with precision chakra manipulation."

Sasuke smiled, and glanced around thoughtfully.

"Yeah..." he murmured. A pause. "Say, have you got a sealing brush on you?"

Sakura nodded, even as she started to disrobe.

Naruto briefly considered making a break for it.

He only dimly recognized the person standing before him and Hinata thanks to the strong family resemblance between Hyuuga, but he was fairly sure that whoever this guy was, he would NOT be happy if he found out what he and Hinata had just been doing in his apartment...

...or...

...well, trying to do, anyways.

It seemed that the Seventh Hokage hadn't quite hit puberty yet at this point in time, much to his continuing frustration.

But, still. While Naruto only had a very general recollection of his childhood, he did remember well enough that most people Had Not Liked Him. It was debatable whether the member of a shinobi clan like the Hyuuga would be so uninformed as to mistake the "jail" for its "prisoner", but he hadn't exactly done anything to endear himself to them yet in this timeline.

Well, aside from Hinata, according to what his wife had told him of her childhood admiration for him, but that wouldn't exactly fix his problem. Son of the Yondaime or not, Naruto was pretty sure that the Hiashi of this time was NOT about to smile and tearfully give his blessing to him and Hinata.

So, quietly, trying to make himself seem as innocent and unimportant as possible, Naruto started to tiptoe away from Hinata and her relative.

He made it about three steps before he felt his wife's hand on his collar.

With a yelp, he was tugged back to Hinata's side, and she fixed him with a meaningful look which told him very clearly that she was not in the mood to be dealing with this shit on her own.

"Ah, sorry..." Naruto mumbled sheepishly. He looked at Ko. "Um, what can I do for you this fine day, Hyuuga-san?"

He flashed a weak smile at the probable branch house member, a bit of sweat trickling down his brow.

The young man blinked, and did a double take.

"Wh...What are you doing here?!" he yelped, sounding more tense than anything.

"I live here," Naruto said lamely, pointing at the apartment door behind him.

The Hyuuga blinked again, and turned to stare at Hinata. His expression was a curious mix of dismay, disbelief, and utter discombobulation.

"...what?"

"I live here," Naruto repeated for the man's benefit. "This is my apartment."

He paused, inwardly furrowing his brow as he silently added:

...I think.

"So what day is today, anyways?" Sasuke asked Sakura, once he'd finished applying the formula for the hundred-strengths seal to her body. "If we're in the past."

He may not have had Naruto's knack for fuuinjutsu (the blond having spent many years studying those arts in order to live up to the considerable reputation of his clan) but Sasuke was still nonetheless pretty skilled at sealing, if he did say so himself. And he was also doing a very good job of neither getting too aroused or too weirded out by his wife's mostly-naked form beneath him.

Jutsu formula sealing scrit, runes and written leylines, gleamed and sparked as they crawled over Sakura's skin. Artistic tendrils of ink swayed and writhed to and fro over the kunoichi's bare flesh, glowing and glimmering as the whole spiderweb of writing slowly retreated to the single drop of blood which had been precisely smeared over her ajna chakra.

Sasuke watched almost boredly, detaching himself from the fact that this was his beautiful and loving wife's practically naked, twelve year old body that he had just finished writing on and around. The ritual circle on his bedroom floor flashed as it drew Sasuke's chakra from the seal, letting Sakura's energies fill the writing up in its stead.

In a matter of seconds, the whole array which Sasuke had painstakingly scrawled onto Sakura's body had receded up into her forehead, the entire jutsu formula compressed into a singular point. The smear of blood on Sakura's brow melted away, and her skin was bare once again.

Sakura relaxed, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. A smile quirked her lips, and she beamed up at her husband. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, the girl visibly worn out from the process of applying the seal. In time, her naked brow would bear the diamond mark indicative of a byakugou no in at functioning capacity.

"Mm... according to the calendar in my room, today's the day Kakashi-sensei gives us the bell test," the young woman said, panting and sweaty, her skin flushed in a manner that was rather inappropriately suggestive of certain other activities which could be done in her present, nigh nonexistent state of dress.

Sasuke blushed, and he wasn't sure whether to be thankful or dismayed that he didn't feel any immediate... stirring... below the belt.

Then he blinked, his brain belatedly processing what Sakura had actually said.

"Ah. I see. And what time is it?" he wondered.

"Earlier than Kakashi-sensei would be there," Sakura drawled.

Sasuke checked his clock.

It said 8:24 am.

"Oh, yeah. We still have another couple of hours, at least," he mused. Nodding, he then added: "Do you think we should go see if Naruto came back with us?"

Sakura smiled slyly at her husband.

"At least give me time to get dressed, dear," she said. "Unless you want me to visit him practically naked~?"

Her teasing colored Sasuke's face, and he spluttered sheepishly.

"R-Right," he mumbled, blushing hotly at the thought. "Sure, go ahead and get dressed. Just don't take too long, okay?"

Sakura smirked.

"I make no promises," she said. "A woman has to look her best, no matter where it is she's going."

"As long as you don't spend an hour putting on make up," Sasuke replied, the redness fading. "We don't need to be arriving even later than Kakashi."

Sakura rolled her eyes, letting out a most unladylike snort.

"Oh, please. That was one time, and he was already there in the first place. It WAS his wedding, after all."

"Really? And how about Yamato's wedding?"

"Okay, two times. But it's not like YOU'VE never gotten us late for anything, Mr. I'll-take-as-much-time-in-the-shower-as-I-need-to-wash-my-hair," Sakura drawled. "Does Naruto's inauguration ring a bell?"

"Long hair requires a lot of care!" Sasuke replied defensively. He almost looked like he was about to start sulking. "Besides, the way I remember it, you're the one who suggested it'd look good if I let my hair grow out."

"And it did look good," Sakura said with a smirk, her eyes glinting. "Now if only we could do something about that left arm of yours..."

Sasuke was the one to roll his eyes, this time.

"I can do everything you need with just the one," he said, smirking suggestively at his wife.

Emerald eyes glinted, meeting Sasuke's heterochromatic orbs with a hungry gleam.

"Oho?" she purred. "And are you of a mind to prove that little boast?"

Sasuke smirked, and his eyes lit up.

"I'll do more than just prove it," he said with a husky growl.

Clothes went flying everywhere, and two youthful bodies (oh god lee flashbacks repress repress) fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Ko blinked. He stared at Naruto.

Dimly, he recalled that there was something important about the boy, but all he could think at the moment was a flat, toneless what.

He stared at Hinata, blinking owlishly as he tried to process what Naruto had just said. It did not escape his notice that the clan heiress's pajamas looked a little messy, or that he had seen her and Naruto emerge from the very same apartment the blond had pointed to.

It was not outside the notice of the girl's family that she had often taken to covertly watching the Uzumaki boy train. She had been quietly following the lad around for a few years now, having what seemed to be an innocent, precocious crush on the rather infamous prankster.

Ko had often been assigned to watching Hinata while she was out, covertly following the heiress to make sure nobody tried to pull off a repeat of that Hidden Cloud fiasco (while he was aloof and demanding, Hiashi-sama did worry about the girl's well-being, and was very clear on making sure that she was properly supervised within the village limits). Ko had as such more than once watched the girl watch Naruto.

Most clan members who cared to discuss such matters were at least distantly aware of the nominal heiress's fondness for Naruto Uzumaki. And while a modestly sizable portion quietly disapproved of this, most of the rest were ambivalent, or even found it "cute".

Ko, for what it's worth, was in the third category.

He understood his role as a member of the branch house, and accepted his duty in preserving the Hyuuga clan's prosperity. He would give his life to protect the village his family called home, sacrifice his eyes and his freedom if that would keep the enemy from stealing the clan secrets. He respected the respective roles of the main and cadet branches.

This did not mean, however, that he particularly liked the clan head. Hiashi was a stern man, and while he meant well enough, his attitude could still rub people the wrong way. He was also very protective of his daughter, and would probably kill anyone who dared to defile her at such a young age as this.

Ko secretly imagined that Hiashi would probably have a heart attack if he found out that the Uzumaki brat (whom Ko distantly recalled as being Bad News in some vague manner or other) had seemingly willfully fornicated with his twelve year old daughter. And while it might have been worth a laugh just to see what colors the man's face would turn, it would probably be better for all involved if this little incident was kept from the clan head's attention.

For Hinata as much as anyone else. Ko didn't pretend to understand why the girl had snapped that morning, but she looked relatively nonviolent now, and if the fact that she wasn't currently flinging him through the air like a rag doll could be attributed to anything the blond prankster had done, well...

Ko could look the other way. Just this once.

"If you come with me, Hinata-sama..." he said slowly, carefully. "...I'm sure we can forget all about whatever has happened here."

It was a gamble. If Hinata was actually still snapped, then words would be useless. But if she was in a state where she could be reasoned with...

Ko only barely avoided having a heart attack when the girl smiled at him.

"Very well," she said uncharacteristically primly. "I will permit you to..." For a moment it sounded like she was suppressing a laugh. "...walk me home."

Hinata finished, her eyes glinting with something Ko decided he REALLY did not want to try and identify. Coughing anxiously, the Hyuuga branch member spared one last curious glance for Naruto Uzumaki, before shaking his head and gesturing for Hinata to follow him.

He did not notice the pair brushing their fists together for a split second. For an instant, it seemed like time had frozen for the boy and girl.

But then they smiled at one another, and nodded in understanding.

"See ya later, Hinata-chan!" Naruto chirped, doing his best to approximate the way he had spoken in his youth.

"That would be lovely, Naruto-kun," Hinata replied, mostly for Ko's benefit.

Naruto waved goodbye, and Hinata followed after Ko.

Inside the Uzumaki's belly, Kurama resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Humans, he mentally scoffed. They're even worse than rabbits.

He was grinning, though.

OMAKE:

sasuke and sakura's bedtime woes

Sasuke looked at Sakura.

Sakura looked at Sasuke.

They were lying in the Uchiha's bed, naked as the day they were born, both frowning irritably. Though their skin was rosy and flush with sweat beneath the covers, their youthful bodies aching and burning, they looked neither excited nor satisfied.

"...okay, this is just painful," Sakura conceded. "And not even in the fun way. Are you sure you remember what you're doing, dear?"

"Strange," Sasuke murmured. "I know it hasn't been more than a week since the last time we've done it. And I'm not really feeling anything, either. It's just... sort of awkward and vaguely uncomfortable."

"You can barely get it up, at that," Sakura deadpanned, her eyes half-lidded. Not in a sexy or suggestive way, either.

"I swear this has never happened to me before," Sasuke insisted defensively.

Sakura sighed.

"...let's just go get Naruto. Alright, dear?"

Sasuke pouted, looking deeply affronted by his present... difficulties.

"Fine. Let's just get dressed and go meet him."

Chapter Text

Kurenai Yuuhi awkwardly shifted a standard issue flak vest over her torso, feeling dreadfully compressed under the dratted thing. She could hardly breathe in the damn vest, but she wanted to look good and professional for this meeting.

The things women sacrificed for their careers.

Still, though, this was like wearing a bloody corset, and Kurenai could not help but feel uncomfortably aware of the numerous byakugan eyes on her as she strolled up into the Hyuuga estate.

The part of her that was still an insecure young teenager wanted to cover herself and squeal pervert! at all the bulging veins and suspiciously pale eyes, even though the more logical, mature parts of her psyche scoffed at the idea of getting so worked up over the notion of being peeped on.

They lived in a ninja village, after all. ANBU knew the color of every last villager's morning constitutional, and privacy was one of the first luxuries a shinobi would learn to sacrifice on long term missions. Separating yourself from the rest of the squad just to bathe, change clothes, or... relieve yourself was just ASKING for trouble.

How could you trust your teammates with your life if you couldn't even trust them enough not to stress out over being seen naked? That was a lesson every halfway decent kunoichi had to learn. It was a good lesson for male ninja, too, at that.

Of course, there was that saying about what was okay on a mission not necessarily being okay in the village, but still...

Kurenai shook her head.

Trying to take her mind off of the painfully squished state of her chest, the illusion mistress glanced curiously at the tumbled wreckage of a nearby wall. Plaster dust, chunks of masonry, and snapped wooden beams were all heaped at the foot of a gaping hole. It reminded her a little of Asuma's first few tries at getting his burning ash jutsu down, minus the smoke and glowing cinders.

Branch house members scurried this way and that across the grounds. They carried building supplies and measuring tools, a nervous tension in the air as they murmured and gossiped. Kurenai caught a few brief snatches of their hushed conversations, listening in out of idle curiosity more than anything else.

"—yeah, he just woke up in the infirmary, and the first thing he did—"

"—says it's looking like over three hundred thousand ryo, as far as damages—"

"—I caught a glimpse of her, right after it happened... she looked like a thing possessed—"

"—just know this is coming out of my pension... should've invested in stocks—"

"—it's always the quiet ones, isn't it? Who would have thought she could—"

It would be untrue for Kurenai to say that she was not curious about what could have happened here. She was frankly gobsmacked to see the extent of the damages: the Hyuuga estate looked like it had been hit by a herd of stampeding buffalo.

It was troubling on one level, though also amusing on another. She had never exactly cared for the more stuck up sorts who tended to populate these old, wealthy bloodline clans, but one of her new students did live here. It would be a shame if anything had happened to her.

Hinata seemed like such a nice girl.

"Excuse me," Kurenai said to a passing clansman. "Would you happen to know where Hiashi-san is? I am here to talk with him about his daughter."

Team Eight had passed their true genin test with flying colors the day before, and Kurenai was honestly eager to start them on missions. Her nomination for jounin promotion had only recently gone through, and this would be her first time training a genin squad.

(She heard Kakashi had put off on testing his team, the slacker.)

A more sadistic part of the woman couldn't wait to see how the kids reacted to their first D-rank missions. If she'd had to suffer through them, then so would her students.

That was one rite of passage she would be very happy to continue, now that she was the jounin sensei who got to sit back, kick her feet up, and watch the newbie genin do all the dirty work.

Busy with thoughts of how Kiba in particular would respond to his first job as a ninja (not that she had anything against him, mind you – the loudmouth Inuzuka would just doubtless have the most entertaining reaction), Kurenai almost missed the Hyuuga blanching at her question.

"Ah," he said, gulping nervously. "You... so you're here about... Hinata-sama?"

Even if Kurenai hadn't been a seasoned, elite shinobi, she still would have seen the obvious anxiety in this individual's posture. He looked as white as death, and was frozen stiff. His tone of voice had traces of fear, and his eyes flicked nervously to one side.

"I'm her jounin instructor," she told the man, who looked like he might have been pushing fifty. "Hinata's a genin now, and there are certain things I will need to clear with her father before I can begin the girl's training."

The Hyuuga – who, judging by the absence of any markings on his bare forehead was probably a minor member of the main branch – nodded his head weakly, staring off into the distance and avoiding meeting Kurenai's eyes.

"Y-Yes, of course," he said distractedly, and if Kurenai had thought it were possible at this point, she would have sworn that he had somehow gone even paler. "I will fetch Hiashi-sama for you. Please wait here... ah..."

"Kurenai Yuuhi," she provided.

"Yuuhi-san, yes," the Hyuuga said, nodding again, with a distant look in his eyes. "I thought you looked familiar. Yes, yes. I will tell him you are here."

And then the man turned and scurried off, looking like he had a rabid ninja hound snapping at his heels.

Kurenai watched him go for a few seconds, curious as to why the man was acting so skittish. After a moment's thought, she shook her head and dismissed the matter, taking another look at her surroundings.

Surveying the grounds of the manor absentmindedly, she noticed that most of the damage seemed to have been done in a straight line. It looked almost like someone had just waltzed right on through the heavily warded walls and dozens of Hyuuga guards.

Kurenai cocked an eyebrow, unsure whether to feel curious or worried. She had seen blast-style experts from Iwa who left less destruction in their wake. Either there had been some kind of freak accident involving a ten pound crate of explosive notes, or a medium-large size summon had plowed right through the estate.

The level of destruction before her eyes was honestly impressive.

Idly wondering what could have happened here to have caused so much damage without warranting direct intervention from the ANBU, Kurenai once more shuffled her flak vest over a frame which had grown well beyond the uniform's original measurements in... certain areas.

If Kurenai ever found out who had gotten the bright idea to base standard flak vest sizes on male body types, she would have a few choice words for them.

(And people wondered why most kunoichi didn't wear these damn things?)

Kurenai blinked, then, distracted from her irritated reverie. She turned her head to see the head of the Hyuuga clan coming towards her. Hiashi's face was unreadable as he approached, and Kurenai greeted him with a short, perfunctory half-bow.

"Hello, Hiashi-san," she said. "May I have a word with you? It's about your daughter's promotion to genin..."

Hiashi nodded absentmindedly, and when he looked at her, he seemed to be staring off into the distance.

"Yes, of course," he said distractedly. "Hinata's promotion. I hope there haven't been any problems?"

The way he said problems raised one of Kurenai's eyebrows, but she shook her head.

"No, nothing like that," she told him. "It's mostly just a formality, but she is heiress apparent, and so I will need your express permission regarding certain matters..."

"Mm, yes," Hiashi mumbled, nodding. "Of course, of course... Come, let us speak inside."

He gestured vaguely for Kurenai to follow him, and she did.

It was with a grin on his face and a skip in his step that Naruto Uzumaki strolled back inside his apartment. Having enjoyed a nice long mental conversation/planning session with his wife, he was in a good mood, and feeling much less worried about screwing things up.

Rarely had the blond felt more grateful to his past/future/other self for taking the time and effort to reverse-engineer the principles of Old Man Rikudo's ninshu.

He'd actually used a crude form of it unconsciously back during the Fourth Shinobi War, when he'd bumped fists with his father to sync up their chakra while relaying his plan to save the allied ninja forces from the Shinju's omnidirectional bijuudama. And similarly when he had crossed jutsu with Sasuke, each of them reading one another's hearts in the heat of battle.

Working backwards from these instances, Naruto had eventually reverse-engineered his own variation of the Sage's spiritual communication technique (with a good deal of help from Ino, whose specialization in yin-style mental ninjutsu was invaluable for working out the kinks). And with this technique, he was able to swap intel and communicate mentally at great length, with only a momentary brushing of fists.

He didn't entirely understand the mechanics behind his technique, but Naruto knew that it worked, and he and Hinata had come to some very important decisions during their brief mental communion.

That was a matter for another time, however. Right now, Naruto was rather preoccupied with a pair of familiar chakra signatures just outside his window.

Going over, and hearing it open, Naruto took a moment to stare at his teammates. Sasuke and Sakura were standing just inside his windowsill, a fragrant breeze wafting in from behind them.

"Hello, Naruto. Have you come back, too?"

That was Sakura speaking. Her hair was cut short, to about the length she had come to prefer in the future.

She was smiling – not a very wide or flashy grin, but rather just a slight, subtle quirking at the corner of her lips. It was a mild expression, showing just the slightest touch of general amusement.

Caution, too.

Naruto frowned slightly, flicking his eyes over to Sasuke. He met the Uchiha's onyx orbs, and the raven haired youth tilted his head ever so slightly: a quiet and subtle show of deference.

Blue peepers slid down, then, and saw the bandaged stub hanging out of Sasuke's left sleeve.

Naruto blinked.

Then he facepalmed.

"God-dammit, Sasuke..." he muttered. "You can never leave well enough alone, can you?"

The Uchiha quirked one of his eyebrows.

"And by that, you mean...?" he said slowly, probably in an attempt to verify what Naruto was talking about before actually spilling anything that might either incriminate them or get them tossed in an insane asylum.

"Your arm," Naruto groaned. "Why is it gone? Again?"

"It's symbolic," Sasuke said blandly, seeming to relax slightly when Naruto said again. "The hand I used when I tried to kill you is gone. Discarding it signifies my resolve to turn aside from the dark path I walked in my younger years. It's a sign of my penitence, and of my ultimate acceptance of your philosophy."

A beat.

Naruto stared at Sasuke, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"You know... I'm pretty sure you've tried to kill me plenty of times with your right hand, too," he drawled.

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"Just because you don't appreciate the symbolism..." he grumbled irritably.

Sakura gave a weak chuckle, and a what can you do? sort of shrug.

"For what it's worth, he hadn't realize we were back when he ripped it off," she told Naruto. "And I did offer to reattach it for him, since we're, you know, in the past and all. But, well..."

A sigh.

"He burned it, didn't he?" Naruto deadpanned. He massaged his temples.

To his credit, Sasuke somehow managed to make himself look almost innocent when the Lord Seventh said this.

"Sorry," Sakura said, looking sincerely apologetic. "I tried to stop him, but..."

"No, no, it's okay," Naruto wearily interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, compared to what Hinata did..."

"Oh? She came back too?" Sasuke said.

"Yeah."

Sakura frowned. "Wait, what did she do?" she wondered.

Naruto coughed, and avoided looking in his teammate's eyes. He appeared awfully sheepish.

"Um... well, the rest of her clan might be under the impression that she's another Itachi waiting to happen," he mumbled.

Sasuke and Sakura winced.

"Yikes," the latter murmured. "So much for not changing things, huh?"

"At least she won't have to worry about being called weak this time around," Sasuke said, trying to look on the bright side.

Naruto and Sakura shared a sweatdrop.

"...that's certainly one way of looking at it," the former mused. "Not necessarily the right way, but it's valid."

"It might cause more headaches in the long run, though," Sakura added, "for them to think of Hinata as strong. She'll be under more scrutiny, for one thing."

"She might also be granted more freedom of movement, on the flipside," Sasuke responded. "Which could be very useful, if we plan on figuring out a way to get back to our own time."

"... ... ... How would we even do that, actually?" Sakura wondered, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "If we don't know how we wound up going back in time in the first place."

"Well, first we'd need to find a time travel jutsu," Naruto said. "Y'know, to get an idea of the mechanics we're working with."

"But there's no way to know which ones are real," Sasuke muttered. "Right? Not without trying them. That's why you sealed such techniques away, whenever you came across an alleged one."

"Yeah, that's true..." Naruto said with a grimace. "There's no real way to know which jutsu will work, if any. And while I suppose I could maybe figure something out from scratch, with enough time and the right resources, that'd take me years of trial and error."

A silence descended on the trio, their faces falling. Their brows were furrowed in concentration, and they all looked lost in thought.

"...no matter how you look at this, we're probably going to be stuck here for a while," Sakura whispered at length. "So we might as well get settled in for the long haul."

Sasuke gave his wife a sympathetic glance. She smiled weakly at him, seeming almost apologetic in her demeanor.

Naruto sighed.

"So much for not changing the past..." he grumbled, looking ready to throw his hands up in the air.

But there was the slightest twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

Inside a training dojo of the Hyuuga main branch, Kurenai Yuuhi was speaking to Hiashi.

"As you know, now that your daughter is a genin, she would ordinarily be expected to start going on missions," Kurenai said, choosing her words carefully. "And, of course, while she will only be doing D-ranks at first, it is to be expected that eventually she will have to do more dangerous jobs as well..."

She was inside an undamaged wing of the Hyuuga manor, a main branch dojo, speaking to the man as he distractedly sparred with a young girl: only just of age to consider entering the academy, from the looks of her. Probably another daughter of Hiashi's – she definitely bore a strong resemblance to the man, in a young and female sort of way.

Hiashi seemed oddly anxious, considering the stoicism his clan was usually known for, and his movements as he batted aside a clumsy knife strike from his probable daughter looked suspiciously jerky for a supposed master of the incomparably fluid and graceful gentle fist style.

"And such missions will invariably carry with them a certain risk to my daughter's life, correct?" Hiashi replied, his brow creased and furrowed.

"Indeed," Kurenai answered with a short nod. "And in this time of peace, with no immediate military threats to the village, it is naturally your prerogative as her father – and clan head of the Hyuuga – to request that she not be placed on such missions. As she is next in line to succeed you as clan head, I imagine that you might have... reservations... about Hinata needlessly risking her life."

"It would be well within my rights in this time of peace..." Hiashi murmured, distractedly sidestepping a quick yet badly telegraphed lunge from the young girl with whom he presently sparred. "...to request that my daughter be held back from dangerous missions."

"This is a right afforded to all clan heads in peacetime," Kurenai said, sounding like she had spent most of the previous night rehearsing this speech. "With no war to be fought, the village has an acceptable surplus of manpower, and there are no priorities which would supercede that of ensuring the succession of clan leadership."

Hiashi made a face, and absentmindedly struck a light blow to his likely-younger-daughter's shoulder. The girl winced, but nonetheless skipped back and corrected her stance appropriately. Beads of sweat trickled down her face, and she was panting heavily, but her eyes were hard and determined.

Gripping the training kunai tighter, the young girl made another sharp lunge, this time sidestepping at the last second. She rotated, and managed to score a glancing hit at the belt of the clan head's kimono. Had the knife been sharpened, the girl probably would have made a rip in the cloth; maybe even drawn a thin line of blood across Hiashi's hip.

Kurenai raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised that a person as famously strict and fastidious as Hiashi Hyuuga would allow any trainee to land a hit on him with such an amateurish strike. The girl's combat form still left a lot to be desired, and she herself would have made several more corrections to her stance before even resuming the spar.

Either the man was slipping as he approached middle age, or he was seriously distracted.

"Hiashi-san?" she interjected. "Would you like to continue this discussion outside?"

She said this politely enough, gently reminding the man of her presence. If what she had to say was making him worry so much as to slip up this egregiously in a training spar, then perhaps it would be in everyone's best interest if he postponed this lesson and devoted his full attention to their present conversation.

The man blinked owlishly, looking as though he had suddenly been woken from a daydream. He shook his head, and for a moment Kurenai took this as a silent dismissal of her suggestion, but then he held out a hand and said:

"That's... enough for now, Hanabi. Continue practicing your forms in here," he told the girl (and now that Kurenai had her name, she no longer had to keep mentally referring to Hanabi as 'the girl'). "I will speak with Yuuhi-san outside."

Hiashi then turned and followed Kurenai out the nearby door, making the woman wonder briefly why he had even led her inside in the first place. Before she could ponder further on the matter, however, she heard a strangled yelp from behind her.

The sound caught her off guard, and a ninja caught off guard was a very dangerous thing.

Reacting immediately, Kurenai had her hands up and ready to start weaving seals, over a decade of combat experience preparing the woman to leap into action at the drop of a hat. Crimson eyes for which she had been named flicked intently over her surroundings, every fiber of the woman's being tensed and ready to fight.

What she saw made her blink owlishly. Once, twice, three times. She stared blankly at the clan head of the Hyuuga, dropping stiffly and disbelievingly out of her combat stance.

Weakly, Kurenai shook her head.

Hiashi Hyuuga was halfway up the dojo wall, looking like a princess who had just seen a mouse or a poisonous viper. This hardened war veteran and elite jounin-class shinobi, a man renowned far and wide for his visual prowess and martial skill, was staring bug eyed, petrified, at the cutest and most harmless thing Kurenai had ever seen.

"Hello, father," said Hinata Hyuuga, greeting Hiashi with the sweetest of grins. "Kurenai-sensei," was added as an afterthought, the girl nodding politely in said woman's direction.

Kurenai blinked again.

She looked from Hiashi, to Hinata, to Hiashi again.

"...Did I miss something?" she said, feeling like she had been left completely out of the loop.

Hinata smiled, and waved a hand dismissively.

"Oh, it was nothing, sensei," she said cheerfully. "Just an unfortunate misunderstanding. I assure you it won't happen again."

She bowed towards her father, then, who was still cowering and clinging to the wall like some kind of silky-haired spider. It seemed the last part of that statement was addressed as much to Hiashi as to her.

Kurenai was at a loss.

"Uh... what?" she said. "Er. So, um... do I have your permission, Hiashi-san?"

The Hyuuga clan head blushed, looking distinctly flustered, and he cleared his throat (though he didn't come down from the wall).

"Y-Yes, of course," he said, audibly trying to maintain his composure. "Do whatever you wish. I give you full clearance to supervise my daughter's training." He then paused. "Er, unless, of course, you would like to say otherwise, Hinata...?"

He glanced nervously at the girl, who replied with a soft smile and short shake of her head.

"No," she said. "I will be happy to study under Kurenai-sensei and broaden my horizons."

Hiashi nodded nervously.

"Well, okay then!" he said almost a little too eagerly. "That's that. Ahem, er... yes, feel free to go along. I'm sure your teammates are waiting for you, um, dear."

Hinata smiled a little wider, and nodded.

"Thank you very much, father," she said with another bow, before turning to Kurenai. "Well, then. Shall we be off, Kurenai-sensei?"

The genjutsu expert nodded dumbly, bemused.

Hinata clapped her hands together gently, and nodded, before quietly turning and walking off. Kurenai, at a loss for words, followed the girl to the training grounds where Shino and Kiba would probably be waiting soon enough for their first official mission.

Kurenai felt like she would be happy to pitch in.

D-ranks were mind numbingly dull, but at least they made sense.

"596-03," Naruto said.

His teammates stared at him blankly.

"...Eh?" said Sakura.

"A delivery ninja," the blond elaborated. "He's someone I... uh, met in the past. Er, future." He frowned. "...other timeline?" A pause. "Yeah, let's go with that."

"What would you need a delivery ninja for?" Sasuke inquired, looking a touch curious. "I don't recall you ever using such services during your tenure as hokage..."

Naruto averted his gaze, looking distinctly sheepish.

"Umm... well, let's just say that me and Pervy Sage kinda got ourselves blacklisted by them during our training trip. Those guys don't mess around when it comes to their 'no-ship' list."

Sakura blinked.

"Oh, I think I heard about that... it's the same reason you wound up taking on Jiraiya-sama's mantle as author of the Icha Icha series, right?" the pinkette said.

"I still can't believe you read that... smut," Sasuke added in a mutter, rolling his eyes.

Sakura shrugged.

"It's very entertaining smut," she said flippantly. "Say what you will about his research methods, but Jiraiya-sama knew how to write an engaging novel."

"More's the pity he never managed to get an audience outside of that thinly-veiled porn," Naruto sighed. "I would've loved to see a sequel to his Legend of a Gutsy Ninja..."

He shook his head, then, and waved a hand as if to physically dismiss this particular tangent.

"But, anyways... my point is, I can use their services now, since..." he blushed. "Ahem, that incident never happened, now." He gave Sasuke a meaningful look. "Seeing as how some of us have already gone ahead and started changing shit... I figure I might as well throw caution to the wind."

"What's the worst that could happen, right?" Sasuke drawled.

Sakura nodded.

"I wonder what you have in mind, though... Hokage-sama?"

Sasuke smirked, catching onto his wife's distinctly obeisant tone.

There was only one reason Sakura would speak so deferentially to their teammate, and that was if she wanted something from him. Last time she called Naruto hokage-sama, the medic ninja corps had experienced a four-fold increase in funding.

It had only been until the other departments raised a stink over the obvious favoritism, but still that one sentence had afforded the hospital several much-needed upgrades and new pieces of equipment. Naruto may have long ago grown out of his precocious crush on Sakura, but he still had something of a soft spot for the woman.

The Honorable Lord Seventh chuckled nervously, puffing up visibly at Sakura's remark. His cheeks pinkened, and he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"Gee, Sakura, it always sounds so flattering when you call me that~" he chirped, looking quite giddy. "But, well... I guess I have wondered what it might have been like if I could have found some way to reach out to certain people earlier. Especially knowing what I know now..."

His eyes twinkled, and Sasuke couldn't help but get a shiver down his spine. He knew this look all too well.

Shikamaru had once said that there was nothing more dangerous than an idiot with an idea. And the couple of idiots standing before him were hands down two of the most dangerous people on the face of the earth.

"It would be very convenient to have Tsunade-sama back in the village," Sakura said faux-offhandedly, batting her eyelashes at Naruto in an almost sickeningly cute fashion. "And she IS family of yours, after all..."

Sasuke hummed thoughtfully. He scratched his chin as though stroking an imaginary beard, a spark of slightest mischief in the depths of his eyes.

"My brother is still alive," he said, making it out as though he were just muttering this absentmindedly. "And Danzo is still kicking around, kicking puppies and all that."

Naruto grinned.

"That's one person I regret not being able to get to before he kicked the bucket," he remarked. "It seems a real shame that such undying conviction should have been wasted on his own selfish machinations..."

Sakura smirked.

"You have a plan," she observed.

"I wouldn't call it a plan..." Naruto replied. "More like a few crazy, half-baked ideas."

Sasuke laughed.

"That's our hokage..." he drawled.

Naruto puffed up proudly, and Sakura giggled.

"First things first, though," the pinkette remarked. "We should probably get to the training grounds. Today's the day of the bell test, and it's getting close to when Kakashi-sensei should arrive."

Sasuke and Naruto shared a look.

They grinned, a shared thought passing between them.

Payback time.

Chapter Text

Kakashi Hatake was many things. An elite jounin, a child prodigy, the sole surviving student of the Yellow Flash. He was the only person outside the Uchiha clan to ever master the sharingan, a former ANBU Black Ops captain, and the son of the White Fang.

To call him a genius would be an understatement. He held the record for earliest genin promotion in the history of the Hidden Leaf, and had become a chuunin at an even younger age than the Legendary Sannin. By the time he was the age of these recent academy graduates, he had already earned his place among the village elite and proven himself qualified to serve as a jounin.

He was the famed Sharingan Kakashi, who was said to have penetrated and copied over a thousand different spells and illusions. He was one of the very best shinobi in the Leaf, by some people considered to be a living legend in his own right.

And he was still in his prime, still growing and improving.

So perhaps he held his prospective students to an unrealistically high standard. Maybe it wasn't fair of him to have so harshly failed every genin squad he'd thus far been saddled with. But Kakashi could still remember the bloodstained tragedy his own team had become, and survivor's guilt was nothing to sneeze at.

Kakashi was not what you would call a well-adjusted individual. He had more emotional baggage than a luxury cruise for recovering alcoholics, enough eccentricities and neuroses to send lesser men straight into a white padded cell. For a long time, the only thing that kept him getting up in the morning was sheer force of habit.

By civilian standards, he would be considered an unstable basket case.

By ex-Black Ops standards, he was only a little below the curve.

That was not a career generally conducive to cultivating a healthy psyche. People like Tenzo and Yugao were more the exception than the rule: most turned out like Kakashi, or like Danzo. The rest either burned out, dropped out, or went rogue. Even Itachi Uchiha had really only been exceptional in the scale of his breakdown.

...well, that, and the suddenness of it.

But there was a good reason most people knew the ansatsu senjutsu tokushu butai as "ANBU" – they were the dark side of the shinobi forces, doing all of the dirty, unethical, and even downright illegal work that most people thought of when they thought "ninja".

Honestly, Kakashi would not wish such a career path on his worst enemy. It was miserable, demanding, and unrewarding work. Even the staggeringly high pay of frequent S-rank missions was hardly worth the trauma and emotional scarring.

He was one of the last people who should have been entrusted with cultivating the next generation of Leaf shinobi. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to repeatedly try and saddle an ex-ANBU captain like him with a genin team clearly needed their head examined.

That was Kakashi's opinion, at least.

But still, as he neared the training grounds where the Lord Third's latest attempt at getting him to either overcome his emotional baggage or at least pass on some of his knowledge to the next generation were no doubt impatiently awaiting his arrival, the Copy Ninja could not help but mentally grumble various imprecations against the hokage and his advisors.

Damn you, Sandaime... he thought darkly, his one visible eye narrowed, expression hard and stony. You'd better keep a close eye on that special edition Icha Icha in your lower right hand desk drawer... it would be a shame if anything happened to it.

Genius shinobi or not, he was not above plotting petty revenge.

Kakashi stared when he finally arrived at the training grounds. Of all the things he had been anticipating, he had not expected this.

His three prospective students were sitting together before the training posts, amicably chatting and snacking. Each of them had a bento box in their lap and a smile on their face. They were talking like old friends, discussing subjects trivial and meaningful alike.

Not only had they completely disregarded his very ominous warning to not eat any breakfast, but they were visibly getting along quite well.

Maybe one of them had actually bothered to do their research?

Kakashi blinked, then, noticing that Sakura had apparently gotten herself a haircut. The academy photos showed her with long hair that bordered on blatantly impractical for a ninja as young and inexperienced as her, but the girl sitting on Naruto's right had her tresses cut sensibly short.

Huh. So she's gotten herself a haircut?

...Not like that will make much of a difference, of course.

A more optimistic man might have taken heart at this, and felt a slight twinge of hopefulness that the girl would prove herself as a dedicated kunoichi.

Kakashi wasn't feeling half as generous.

Next he eyed Naruto, his sensei's son, and the vessel of the kyuubi. A part of Kakashi felt a tiny flicker of guilt at not going out of his way to try and connect with the boy before now, but the rest of him deadpanned that a neurotic, emotionally scarred ANBU captain wouldn't have exactly been the best influence for a young, attention-starved orphan.

Looking closely, however, Kakashi noted that the boy seemed a little quieter than yesterday. He was less noisy, less demanding for people to focus on him. There was something mellower in his demeanor, less of a pup's yapping in his words. It was like he no longer felt the need to repeatedly and vehemently assert his existence with every word to leave his mouth.

Perhaps graduating the academy had soothed some of the lad's insecurities. Maybe Naruto believed that he was finally being acknowledged as a true shinobi, and that people would finally begin to accept him for who he was.

Or maybe he just wore himself out yammering away at his teammates all morning, Kakashi thought critically, before turning his attention over to the third member of the squad.

One thing was immediately apparent.

A beat.

Kakashi stared at the stump of Sasuke Uchiha's left arm.

"Ah," the silver-haired shinobi blurted out, blinking owlishly. "Hello, then. What happened to your arm?"

Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke did not look surprised by the sound of his voice.

Hm.

Although they hadn't acknowledged his arrival, they did seem to know he was there. Not too surprising, since he hadn't really been erasing his presence, but the fact that they didn't respond in any way to his arrival was mildly perplexing.

Late or not, he was their commanding officer. It wasn't as though he expected matching salutes and a chorused "Sir!", but the absence of even a mutinous grumble at being made to wait for so long did seem rather uncharacteristic for at least two of these kids.

That aside, however, the fact that the rookie of the year was visibly lacking one of his arms was more pressing in Kakashi's mind, if only for how unexpected it was. He hadn't heard anything about the kid losing a limb, and he was pretty sure that wasn't something the Lord Third would have glossed over in his briefing.

Had the boy had a training accident after their meeting yesterday?

Such things were not unheard of, even with the best of ninja, and an unsupervised academy student trying out a jutsu beyond his skill level could certainly do some serious damage to himself. The timing was rather unfortunate, though.

Before Kakashi could continue further on into a mental spiel about all the ways that an orphaned academy graduate with a missing limb could get totally fucked over by the system, however, Sasuke languidly turned his head to meet the Copy Ninja's eye.

The boy's expression was inscrutably deadpan.

"I fell down the stairs," was Sasuke's blithe response.

Kakashi blinked again.

"Oh. I see," he said lamely.

It was all he could say, really.

How the hell was a person supposed to respond to something like that? It was obviously a lie, but calling the kid out on it wouldn't really accomplish anything. Not if he was still stubborn enough to show up for his genin test.

The facepalming which ensued on Sakura and Naruto's parts did not escape Kakashi's notice, either. They probably knew the truth of the matter, or else could guess it well enough.

Kakashi shook his head.

"Well, I guess I won't bore you by saying you should seriously consider a career change..." he drawled, "...but don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're a cripple, either."

He noticed the kid's eye twitch.

Ah. A sore spot, was it?

"Don't think we'll go easy on you just because it's three against one," Sasuke replied with a sharp look, his tone as cool as ice.

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled, and he let out a laugh.

"My, my... It's nice that you're confident of your chances," he remarked, waving a hand dismissively. "But I haven't even explained the details of this survival exercise yet." He flicked an eye over the bento lunches the three were finishing up. "...And I'm a little surprised you three didn't heed my warning, by the way."

Sakura shrugged, closing her empty lunchbox.

"Better to face a difficult mission properly nourished," she quipped. "It would hardly be very professional to let nerves keep us from eating."

"I see. Aren't you the clever one," Kakashi commented, amusedly stroking his chin through his mask. "Let's hope that shrewdness doesn't backfire on you, hm?"

He took a pair of bells from his pocket, then, his expression going neutral.

"Now, about your test... Can you guess what we're going to do with these?" he drawled, flicking his wrist to ring the little bells.

Naruto put the lid on his bento box, and shot a lazy glance at the petite ornaments.

"Take those bells from you?" he guessed, making a show of stifling a yawn. "Easy as cake."

Kakashi's eye twitched. He let out a small huff.

"Well, yes. You WILL have to take these bells from me," he said, the tiniest hint of annoyance momentarily creeping into his tone. He'd had a whole monologue and everything ready to put the fear of god in these little greenhorns, but they kept taking the wind out of his sails...

"And anyone who doesn't get a bell will be sent back to the academy, I'm sure," Sasuke droned, sounding far too bored to actually be discussing the possibility of being flunked and forced to start his education all over again.

Kakashi was silent for a moment. His eye twitched twice this time.

He nodded, then, after a brief pause.

"...yes. Yes, they will. And you know what else?" he said, sounding much more cheerful than was safe. "You have only an hour to do it."

Sakura chuckled. "That long?" she said. "You must really not have a very high opinion of us."

A dangerous gleam came into her eyes. For a second, Kakashi could have sworn that he saw her smirk.

Naruto clapped his hands once, and hopped to his feet with a grunt.

"That's something we'll have to remedy," the blond commented, grinning in a way that reminded Kakashi a little too much of the late Kushina. "It wouldn't do for him to doubt his students' capabilities, after all."

Cerulean orbs flashed, as much amusement as determination. Naruto's smile showed far too many teeth as he raised his hands up to chest height, holding out a fist to either of his teammates.

Sasuke smirked at the whiskered prankster. He bumped fists, matching Naruto's left hand with his right. Then he closed his eyes.

Sakura mirrored Sasuke's gesture, bumping Naruto's other fist and closing her own eyes. She had a frightening grin on her face.

For a second, everything was still.

"What."

A Naruto in his late teens stared disbelievingly at an older, sharingan-less Kakashi. Standing next to him was a one-armed Sasuke, who looked distinctly ruffled.

"You heard me," Kakashi drawled, a slightest wrinkling around his eyes betraying the amused tilt of his lips. "Neither of you was ever officially promoted beyond genin rank."

Naruto's face reddened, and he spluttered.

"Oh, come on!" he protested. "That's bullshit, sensei! Are you seriously gonna tell me that saving the whole damn world wasn't worth a field promotion?!"

Kakashi shrugged, as though he had no say in the matter and was just relaying this unfortunate news to the pair (which all three present knew was NOT the case).

"What can I say? The paperwork never went through."

Sasuke's eye twitched.

"You know, I was promoted to chuunin rank in Oto..."

Naruto glowered at his friend, annoyed.

"And what happens in Oto stays in Oto," Kakashi quipped. "You're a Leaf ninja now, again, and that means you're back to the rank you had before your... ahem, desertion."

Sasuke flinched. His fingers curled into a fist.

"Are you seriously telling us that we have to retake the chuunin exams?" Naruto asked, looking highly exasperated.

Kakashi smiled at his two male students.

"Yes," he said cheerfully.

Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura's eyes snapped open again a second later.

Chunks of grassy turf began to fly up around the three, the ground trembling at their feet. Waves washed away from them on the surface of the nearby pond, completely defying all conventional logic. The surrounding trees swayed and cracked, as though buffeted by a frightful gale.

Kakashi blinked. The little bit of his face that was actually visible looked distinctly pale.

"...eh?"

Sakura grinned, and pulled her fist apart from Naruto's. Her eyes gleamed with an unholy light, and she shifted her legs.

"You know the plan?" Naruto said.

Sasuke and Sakura nodded. The former separated his fist from Naruto's, raising his hand in the seal of confrontation.

"Kick his ass, get the bells," Sasuke drawled. "Nice and simple. I don't even need anything fancy for this."

Sakura grinned, and hummed her agreement.

"Not much call for a medic yet, either," she remarked. "But this is about showing teamwork."

Naruto nodded, and clapped his hands together.

"Scatter!" he barked.

All three of them blurred, and vanished. Kakashi blinked again, quite dumbstruck.

...I have a bad feeling about this, he mused to himself.

A second later, his instincts were screaming at him to MOVE, and his body jerked back on paranoid reflex. He saw a flicker of pink out of the corner of his eye, and the ground where he had just been standing burst apart, compacted turf buckling and splitting. Chunks of soil ripped through the air, pelting Kakashi with grass and dirt.

Sakura dislodged her fist from the center of a small impact crater. She had a savage grin on her face.

"Lesson number one," the girl said all too sweetly, absentmindedly brushing a bit of soil from her knuckles. "Taijutsu."

Kakashi stared.

"Wha...?" he managed to intelligently say, before being forced to sidestep a vicious straight thrust from the girl's fist.

A rip appeared in his flak vest, even though the punch missed him by a good several inches.

Kakashi felt a bead of nervous sweat trickle down past his eye.

Sakura spun, and brought her leg around in a low sweep. Kakashi just barely jumped over it, and he heard a small tree fall over several meters away in an event he hoped to high heavens had nothing to do with the girl's kick.

A small fist rocketed up towards his abdomen, then, and the log that took the Copy Ninja's place exploded into a sizable cloud of sawdust.

"Oh? Replacement jutsu. How very droll, sensei."

Sakura smirked, and her eyes flicked over to a seemingly inconspicuous bit of foliage in the surrounding forest. She cracked her knuckles ominously.

Kakashi, who had replaced himself with the brave log that was now floating through the air in puffs of infinitely fine particulate matter, mentally swore when he realized the girl was looking right at him.

Briefly, the man wondered if it wouldn't be prudent to uncover Obito's sharingan. Relatedly, he also wondered what the hell they were teaching kids at the academy these days. Was somebody trying to get back at him for failing all those other teams?

Logically, there was no way a fresh academy graduate should have been able to boast that kind of speed and power, but logic seemed to have called in sick today. Kakashi was starting to feel a bit numb, and not just from Sakura's barely-missed punches.

He was thus only marginally horrified when the girl in question grinned wider than ever, cocked her fist back, and—

Kakashi would later attest that, no matter what his students may say, he absolutely DID NOT scream like a little girl when Sakura Haruno somehow managed to level a full three acres of woodland just by punching at the air in his general direction.

This was not just saving face, either. He didn't have enough breath left in him to even whisper after the first shockwave hit, and only through a quick and frantic application of the art of subterranean locomotion was he able to avoid being crushed under several tons of timber.

Just to be safe, he tunneled real deep. You know, in case Sakura decided to punch the ground again.

Okay, Kakashi, he thought to himself. Maybe the girl is some kind of freak mini-Tsunade, and maybe you're in shock and unable to properly assess the situation. But you're a jounin, and their sensei. You have to get your head in the game and show these little genin what's what.

Easier said than done, a more bitter part of the man longed to reply. But in terms of sanity Kakashi drew the line at holding literal conversations with himself. So, instead, he grit his teeth, took a deep breath, and—

Felt a kunai nick his shoulder. Right through his flak vest.

Also, several meters of rock and soil.

Well then.

Another kunai came down through the earth, barely missing his face. Even with his sharingan still covered, it was hardly a feat of brilliance to deduce that lightning natured chakra was probably being channeled through the knives. He could feel his hair stand up on end when it passed.

Deciding that valor was, in this case, the better part of discretion, Kakashi reluctantly returned to the surface, narrowly avoiding a few more lighting kunai.

The second he could feel the sun on his face once again, the hound summoner found himself eye-to-eye with very curious looking sharingan. Rather than the usual one, two, or three tomoe, it had a strange pattern in red and black, almost like something you might see in a gothic kaleidoscope.

"Lesson number two," came Sasuke's half bored, half vindictive tone. "Genjutsu."

All at once, EVERYTHING was in shades of red and black. Kakashi found himself in vaguely familiar surroundings, sitting behind a desk at the academy. The other seats were all filled with Sasuke doppelgängers, and an unfamiliar chuunin stood at the front of the classroom, droning on about some topic or other.

Kakashi blinked sleepily, frowning underneath his cloth mask. His legs were jammed most uncomfortably under the desk, the seats far too small for a grown man. Judging by the contents of the chalkboard, the subject matter being covered was also similarly well beneath him.

Tediously trivial.

It was a dreadfully mundane illusion, aside from the starkly dichromatic surroundings. The chuunin instructor continued to prattle monotonously on, completely uncaring that one of his students was a grown up, and a jounin.

Boring or not, however, this was still a genjutsu, and he was virtually defenseless while trapped within it. Also, he had never liked sitting in a classroom. It was a big part of the reason he'd pushed to graduate as early as he did.

Concentrating, Kakashi brought his hands up into a seal. He exhaled sharply, simultaneously flaring and scrambling his chakra.

Kai.

...nothing happened.

Kakashi frowned.

"Tricky little buggers..." he muttered, before bringing a hand up to his forehead protector. "I guess I'll have to quit holding back, then."

He lifted the hitai-ate from over his left eye, exposing a fully matured three comma sharingan.

A beat.

Kakashi stared blankly at the illusion... which his sharingan was seemingly unable to penetrate. He saw his surroundings exactly as he would have expected to see them, if he were actually sitting in a classroom, even with the altered perception afforded to him by Obito's eye.

Well then. That much, at least, made a little sense.

Only someone who knew what the world looked like through a sharingan could create a genjutsu that could fool those eyes. Otherwise, it would be like a colorblind person trying to craft an illusion capable of fooling people who could actually distinguish between red and blue.

And unfortunately for Kakashi, Sasuke was neither colorblind nor lacking in genjutsu proficiency.

The lecture carried on, and Kakashi quickly ran himself ragged trying to figure out some way to escape his prospective student's illusion. Time lost all meaning as the instructor droned on and on, never running out of mind-numbingly boring subject matter to discuss.

Six hours into the illusion, one quarter of a second had passed in real time.

Sasuke chose then to release the genjutsu, not quite wanting to render the man before him outright comatose.

For a moment, Kakashi was dazed. Then he blinked, and stared at the Uchiha for a fraction of a second.

Cursing, he sprang away. A tactical retreat, ostensibly.

In his hurry, Kakashi failed to notice the bell dangling from Sasuke's hand.

"Do you think you will need to borrow any of my chakra for this, Naruto?"

Kurama's voice rumbled in the back of the blond's mind.

He could sense their target approaching, clearly dumbstruck and frazzled. Sakura was closing in on their location, too, maybe about thirty seconds from intercept. Sasuke was hanging back, for now.

Naruto shrugged, grinning under the cover of a bush.

Nah. We just wanna knock him around a little... not send him into the ICU.

This response elicited something between a chuckle and a yawn from the lazy old kyuubi.

"I see. Wake me up when something interesting happens, then, won't you?"

Naruto nodded, more out of habit than any need to do so when communicating with the Nine-Tailed Fox inside his mind.

Yeah, sure. I will, he promised.

Then, with a wicked grin, Naruto willed three shadow clones into existence above his head. A trio of kage bunshin leaped down from the canopy, shouting raucously and immediately catching their target's attention.

"Kick his ass!" one shouted.

"Ichiraku banzai!" cried the second.

"Believe it!" the third crowed.

They landed right in front of the jounin, and charged. Their guards were wide open, taijutsu stances horrendously sloppy. Kakashi's hands were a blur. He effortlessly dispatched the three clones, stunning each one with short, quick, nonlethal taijutsu strikes.

Nearly as one, the clones burst, vanishing in puffs of white smoke.

Kakashi shook his head and tutted in disappointment, seeming to relax slightly now that he was in more familiar territory.

"What a shame," the man drawled. "Compared to the showing Sasuke and Sakura have made... it looks like you'll be the one sent back to the academy, Naruto."

It was a bluff, of course. This test was an all-or-nothing deal. Kakashi's intention was to test them as a team, not as individuals. If they couldn't set aside their differences and work together, then they would fail no matter how well they did.

Naruto conjured up six more shadow clones, and had them attack in the same strategy as the previous three. Kakashi scowled, and dispelled these ones just as effortlessly.

"Really, Naruto... this is just a disappointing showing," the man drawled, visibly frowning. What are you three up to...?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, Sakura burst into the clearing, screaming bloody murder. Kakashi's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Had Naruto just been stalling him...?

"SHANNARO!" the pinkette roared, cocking a fist back as she flew straight at the jounin.

Kakashi yelped – actually yelped – and ducked hurriedly out of the girl's way. She missed him by scarce inches, another sizable rip appearing in the man's flak vest. The hound summoner winced, looking like he might as well have been slugged with a direct hit from an ironclad fist.

Naruto grinned.

"NOW!" he cried, leaping out of the bush. His hands blurred through a number of seals. "Time for lesson number three, Kaka-sensei!" He clapped his palms together, and the forest shifted under the weight of his chakra. "Ninjutsu!"

There was a flash of light. The ground shuddered and groaned beneath Kakashi's feet.

"Sexy Style: Icha Icha Harem Jutsu!"

Kakashi blinked.

The smoke cleared.

He saw that he was surrounded by dozens of gorgeous, scantily clad women. Notably, every last one of them resembled one heroine or another from the closet pervert's favorite book series. From sexy libarian Yukina, to sensual innkeeper Mitusba, to shy but secretly adventurous Akane, and of course the dark, emotionless ninja beauty, Ibuki.

Every last detail was absolutely perfect. From the most obvious repeated descriptors to the subtlest inferred qualities, not one thing was missing or different from Kakashi's mental category. The girls looked exactly as he had always imagined them, and every last one was eyeing him up and down in a way that said they liked what they saw.

In an instant, the Copy Ninja was swamped. Gorgeous woman identical to the many sexy heroines of his favorite series of novels threw themselves at him, cooing and repeating many of their cutest or most suggestive lines from the books.

"Oh, darling... Do you want dinner, a bath... or ME~?"

"I-It's not like I'm doing this 'cause I want to... B-BAKA!"

"Is that a kunai in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

Jiraiya had many talents.

Writing creative dialogue was not one of them.

Now, normally, a technique like Naruto's sexy jutsu would have minimal effect on Kakashi. The man had plenty of real women all but throwing themselves at him everywhere he went, after all. He was all but desensitized to the female form.

This, on the other hand...? This was something else entirely.

Everyone had their weakness. Everyone had their price. Everyone had their fetish.

Icha Icha was Kakashi's.

The ensuing fountain of blood was strong enough to punch straight through the man's mask, flinging him backwards through the forest.

"YOU PAAAASS!" Kakashi Hatake exclaimed with a tear in his eye.

Seconds later, the horde of half naked smut heroines descended upon him. They were absolutely merciless.

Naruto (the original) turned to grin at Sakura. The pinkette smirked back at him, dangling a bell from her fist. Sasuke chose then to hop down from the branches overhead, idly fiddling with the bell in his hand.

"I'm surrounded by perverts," he groused, espying the slight trickle of blood on Sakura's upper lip.

The pinkette shrugged.

"Kakashi-sensei is very handsome under that mask of his," she said flippantly. "...and Naruto's sexy jutsu is quite compelling, too."

Naruto laughed, looking smug. Sasuke rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"Ah, whatever," he muttered. Turning to Naruto, he said, "Hey. Did you ever get a hold of that delivery ninja?"

Naruto glanced from the continuing carnage of his Icha Icha Harem Jutsu, which also happened to be the name of his latest installment in the Icha Icha series, ghostwritten by Konohamaru.

"Yeah," he said. "I gave him the letters and the instructions. We ought to be getting RSVPs back sometime between now and... well, when the Wave mission started, last time."

Sasuke nodded, looking satisfied.

Sakura seemed completely incapable of tearing her eyes away from the Lord Seventh's most fearsome jutsu behind the Ultra Massive Bijuudama Rasenshuriken Omni-Elemental Barrage.

Mark Seven.

Kakashi, for his part, was CONVINCED that he had died and gone straight to Icha Icha heaven.

Which he was perv-ectly okay with.

Chapter Text

Hinata Uzumaki née Hyuuga dearly loved her family. This statement was not exclusive to her husband and children, or even to just those members of the Hyuuga clan who had been kind to her as a child. Family was family.

Even the most distant relatives on her husband's side were as dear to her as siblings. Karin Hozuki née Uzumaki was like a sister-in-law to Hinata, and she was as close to the woman as she was to her own sister. Karui Akimichi was practically a cousin. The daughter of Priestess Shion was like a niece.

The Hyuuga family tree was very closely knit, even for all of the bad blood between its branches. Hinata was accustomed through long use to reckoning even far-flung relations as "kin", as the Hyuuga clan – for how large as it was – kept among its own as often as not. The fact that her husband's clan had all but disintegrated and scattered to the four corners of the earth decades ago did not deter Hinata from warmly greeting even his most distantly removed relatives as family.

She was a kind, warm-hearted, understanding sort of woman. Even though her childhood had not always been the happiest or most fortunate, she firmly believed in family before all else. This was why she could greet someone like the Hoshikage as niisama, just because the man's mother had carried a few drops of Uzumaki blood within her veins.

Hinata loved her family dearly.

This statement did not exclude her father.

Oh, he had been a hard man, a stern disciplinarian who would not hesitate to berate her for even the slightest mistakes while training. Hiashi Hyuuga had never been a terribly expressive individual, and had rarely shown any kind of recognizable affection to his children in their youth. A less forgiving woman than Hinata would not hesitate to begrudge the man his harsh training and critical attitude.

But Hinata loved him all the same. Hiashi was her father, and not a bad person. As a parent herself, she could now understand the anxiety and the worry, the fear of not being ready to raise a child. She had faced many of the pitfalls herself, been forced to overcome numerous tribulations as a mother of two.

Her father had never hated her. No, it had been a very long time indeed since Hinata had feared as much. He loved both of his daughters, and wanted only the best for them. As the head of a ninja clan, that meant doing everything he could to make his girls strong, to impart upon them the resolve necessary to someday lead the family, and fighting ability to keep them alive.

Hinata did not resent her father for calling her weak as a child, or for pushing her so hard to improve. Those words had hurt, of course, and the stress had driven her to withdraw further and further into herself, but she knew that he had been doing no different for her than his father had done for him and his brother.

If anything, Hiashi's methods had been lenient by the standards of traditional shinobi discipline. He had never struck her outside of a spar, or pushed her too far past her limits. He was not an outwardly affectionate man, but neither had he ever been abusive.

When it had become seemingly clear to him that Hinata would likely never be able to completely discard her kind nature, or to overcome her hesitation and self doubt, he had simply given up and turned his attentions to the more promising Hanabi. This may have dismayed Hinata when she was young, but the person she was now could understand his reasoning.

She did not resent the man, or begrudge him that long-past dismissal of her potential. Hinata Uzumaki was a mature, grown woman – she had overcome those insecurities many years ago. She and her father had reconciled when she was still in her teens, and now she was thirty-five years old: a mother of two academy students.

With a husband like Naruto Uzumaki, it was only natural that Hinata would have long since come to terms with her childhood. Although she was now in a twelve year old body, back when her father's antipathy towards her had been at its peak, from Hinata's perspective she had been at peace with the man for almost twenty years.

She loved her father dearly, and respected him as well.

This did not mean, however, that she could not find amusement in his present fear of her.

Honestly, the whole misunderstanding was actually pretty funny from her perspective. The look on his face when he saw her returning to the manor had nearly made Hinata break out in laughter.

Even now, a quarter of an hour later, she could still feel one or two giggles escape her lips as she thought about her father clinging to dojo's outside wall like the ground had turned into lava. Hiashi hadn't even looked that undignified at his fiftieth birthday party, when one of his older cousins had cracked out some less than flattering baby pictures of the retired clan head.

"Heh... heehee...snrk..."

Kiba Inuzuka stared at his female teammate with an odd mixture of confusion and anxiety. Hinata's face was quite a deep shade of red, and her shoulders appeared to be spasming on and off. She looked rather like she was having trouble breathing, too, and was clutching uncharacteristically at her ribs.

"Er... you alright, Hinata?" he ventured, looking uncertainly at the girl.

"Teehee... hahaha... y-yes, I'm f-fine... heeheehee!... K-Kiba...kun..."

Shino, from the other side of Hinata, looked askance at the girl.

...Possibly. He might have also been staring at their new jounin sensei's behind.

The sunglasses made it kind of hard to tell where his eyes were actually pointed.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say it almost sounds like she's laughing," the Aburame commented.

"Laughing?" Kiba frowned, narrowing his eyes and looking more closely at Hinata's scarlet face and trembling frame. "Huh. Weird. Is that normal for her?"

He looked curiously at Shino, perhaps expecting the insect-user to have a better insight into their female teammate's personality. Kiba had honestly never actually noticed either of them until yesterday, when they'd been stuck on a genin squad together. Those two were not the kind of people who stood out from the crowd.

Shino might have frowned at Kiba's question. It was hard to tell.

"Not that I know of," he said. "It seems to be quite uncharacteristic of her, actually."

Kiba furrowed his brow. He scratched his head.

"So..." he muttered. "What? Has she snapped or something?"

For some unfathomable reason, Hinata's laughter seemed to redouble at this comment.

Kiba stared at the girl, uncertain what to think. Akamaru rode on the boy's head, the small white pup eagerly wagging its tail.

Hinata shook her head, redfaced and trembling.

"N-No, I'm... s-sorry..." She giggled a little more, tears in her eyes. "I-It's nothing, K...Kiba-kun, Shino-kun. It's just... I just remembered a very funny joke. That's all."

Shino seemed to accept this. Kiba cocked an eyebrow suspiciously for a moment, before shrugging and letting it go.

He could buy that.

"I see. Must be one hell of a joke," he commented, stretching boredly.

Hinata's lips twitched.

"Oh, it is. It really is," she said. There was a twinkle of mirth in her eye.

A moment of silence passed between the trio of genin, as they followed Kurenai to the mission center. Kiba watched the clouds go by, and Shino stared fixedly at a point a little ways in front of Hinata, who walked directly behind their new sensei.

They walked down the street to their destination, the building rearing up ahead of them. Ninja of various ranks came to and fro around them as they drew near to the tower.

Shino hummed thoughtfully.

"I wonder what kind of mission we'll be assigned?" he spoke up, glancing around as they passed in through the door.

Kiba let out a barking laugh, and grinned at his male teammate.

"They'll probably want us to infiltrate some kind of smuggling ring," he confidently declared. "Oh! Or maybe we'll be assigned to guard a princess!"

A beat.

"Pffffft...!"

Hinata's face turned an impossible shade of maroon, and her cheeks puffed out. Wide-eyed and shaking, her mouth snapped open, a howling laughter escaping her lips.

"Hahahahaha! Oh, oh goodness! Ahahahaha!"

Kiba and Shino both stared at Hinata.

Quietly, they scooted a couple inches away, unsure how to take this newest hysterical fit.

Kurenai, for her part, was glad that none of the three noticed her own trembling lip, or the tears in her eyes. She herself was only barely restraining her laughter.

It took Hinata several seconds to calm down, and several ninja in the mission center (mostly those acquainted with Hyuuga clan members) were giving her very wary looks. Shino and Kiba continued to stare uncomprehendingly at the girl.

Well, okay, that was mostly Kiba. Shino was still keeping his eye on Kurenai-sensei, for the most part.

The chuunin at the desk got a wicked gleam in his eye when Team Eight walked up to him.

"Ah," he said, glancing at the look of scarcely-suppressed amusement on Kurenai's face, and the trio of fresh-looking genin behind her. "Your first mission?"

Despite herself, Kurenai couldn't help mirroring the man's sadistic grin. Hinata was breathing slow and deep to keep herself from breaking down in giggles again. She felt most unusually giddy, and a part of her wondered if it might not have had something to do with the twelve year old body she was currently inhabiting.

Kiba and Shino were more concerned with the contents of the scroll the clerical-nin handed their sensei. Even the fairly stoic Aburame looked a hair eager for their first official job as shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.

"Well? What's our mission, sensei?" Kiba asked excitedly. "Infiltration? Assassination? Body guard duty?"

Kurenai turned to face her students, an all-too-innocently sweet smile on her face.

"Babysitting," she told them, a trace of sadistic delight in her tone.

Oh, she was going to relish this. If only she had a camera to preserve the looks on their faces for posterity.

Kiba blinked. His face twisted in disbelief and confusion. He looked one part offended, one part irritated, and one part constipated. Even Shino seemed to wilt a fraction of inch.

Hinata beamed, however, the only one of the three to not only look unperturbed by this announcement, but even appear to be downright pleased with their assignment.

"Oh, good!" the girl warmly chirped. "That should be fun."

"They passed."

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Lord Third Hokage, looked up from his calligraphy. Smoke curled from his pipe in thin wisps, the slender, finely-crafted instrument shifting between the elderly shinobi's lips.

Kakashi Hatake was standing just outside the threshold of Hiruzen's study, looking oddly pleased despite the ragged state of his uniform. The Sandaime was mildly surprised to note what looked like numerous claw marks in the jounin's flak vest, as well as a few larger rips and tears.

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, plucking his pipe from his mouth. He exhaled a puff of sweetly pungent smoke, frown lines subtly deepening.

"Did they, now?" he murmured, voice low and raspy. "Hrm. I must admit, that is a pleasant surprise. Iruka seemed quite certain you would fail them."

A strange expression flickered over Kakashi's face for the briefest instant. Less perceptive men wouldn't have even noticed it.

"Iruka, huh... I think I remember him," Kakashi said, his visible eye marginally narrowing. "Their academy instructor, right?"

"Correct," Hiruzen said with a curt nod. "I do believe you're the one who convinced him to make that particular career choice."

"Was I, now?" Kakashi mused. "Well, I don't remember it, but I suppose it could have happened." He shrugged. "Honestly, though, if that guy was actually worried about those three failing my test..."

He trailed off.

Hiruzen noticed a curious mixture of resentment and... gratitude?... in the Copy Ninja's voice.

"I'll admit that their team combination is a potentially volatile one," he conceded, "but clearly they managed to pull through spectacularly."

Kakashi gave Hiruzen an eye-smile.

"Oh, no. Not just pull through," he said. He shook his head, looking almost torn between swelling pride and petty resentment. "I daresay those three completely DEMOLISHED me. I wasn't able to even lay a finger on them."

The Sandaime blinked, and stared at Kakashi.

After a moment's silence, he frowned.

"...I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me, Lord Hokage. They tore me into pieces and completely trivialized the bell test. I didn't even have to tie one of them to a log." Here, Kakashi paused. "...not that I would have been able to unless they let me, I imagine."

Hiruzen snuffed out his pipe, and he set it aside.

"Kakashi..." he said slowly, giving the man a gimlet eye. "...have you been indulging in any recreational habits I should be aware of? Maybe they aren't immediately poisonous, but there's still a reason that those mushrooms are labeled as highly toxic in the field manual..."

Kakashi shook his head.

"I assure you, Hokage-sama," he said sincerely. "I have not been engaging in the use of any non-prescription opiates, narcotics, or psychotropic substances."

Hiruzen's eyes were still narrowed.

"And yet you were unable to so much as lay a finger on three freshly graduated academy students?" he drawled. The skepiticism was dripping from his tone. "Perhaps you need to be sent back for remedial lessons, yourself, Kakashi."

Kakashi, again, shook his head.

"No, no. You wouldn't be saying that if you'd seen them in action," he insisted, a strange look in his eye.

He glanced pointedly at the Lord Third's crystal ball.

Hiruzen cleared his throat, inconspicuously dabbing a bit of blood away from his nostrils as he recalled a certain impromptu spar that had erupted between Anko and Yugao in the hot springs earlier that day.

"Hrm, yes, well..." he muttered. "They must have set up quite a good number of traps for you in the length of time it took for you to arrive, I do not doubt."

He gave Kakashi a pointed look, silently reiterating a well worn lecture on the distinction between tolerance and approval in regards to the man's customary cunctation. But Kakashi dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"The only trap they've set on me since I met the three was that eraser Naruto dropped on my head the other day. I don't know what Iruka's been teaching those kids, but the only one of them whose abilities didn't completely baffle me was Naruto."

Kakashi paused.

"...although I do wonder how a minor could come to have such an intimate knowledge regarding the Icha Icha series and its heroines..."

Hiruzen sighed, getting the impression that they were getting back into somewhat more familiar ground.

"I see," he muttered. "So it was that... harem jutsu of Naruto's, that did you in?"

Kakashi's smile seemed especially genuine at this comment.

"The boy has a real talent," he said sincerely.

The perverted giggle slipping from the man's mouth, and the visible pinkness in his cheek, only slightly ruined the effect of his words.

Hiruzen once more dabbed at his nose, closing his eyes and trying not to think about the singularly well-endowed female love interests in his favorite student's most (in-)famous series, all clad in nothing but thin wisps of smoke, and lewdly squirming and cooing as they piled on top of him and...

The Sandaime's cheeks darkened noticeably. The tissue in his hand became stained with red.

"Yes... yes, of course," he said distractedly, before weakly shaking his head and discarding the blood drenched tissue. "Well, ah... yes, hrm... Ahem." He cleared his throat. "What about the other two, then?" he inquired, trying to change the topic to something less likely to violently exsanguinate him with certain associated mental images.

Kakashi paused, frowning.

"...well, Sakura leveled a good portion of the forest surrounding the training grounds. She's like a freak mini-Tsunade," he said with a barely repressed shudder. A moment later, he added, almost as an afterthought: "...Oh, and also Sasuke seems to have awakened some strange kind of sharingan."

The Lord Third blinked. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Define strange, Kakashi."

"It didn't have a tomoe pattern," Kakashi elaborated. "It looked like... well, I don't know how I'd describe it. It was sort of like..." He gestured vaguely. "Do you know those spyglass sort of toys? The ones with the dials and the twisting shapes that don't actually show what you're looking at..."

Kakashi scowled, visibly wracking his brain for the word.

"It's... well, like... it looked sort of like that, or at least the pattern reminded me of something you might see in one of those... those, uh..." He tapped a finger on his wrist, fidgeting as he tried to recall the word. "You know, it was like..."

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He stroked his short beard.

"...Like a kaleidoscope?" he said, venturing a guess.

Kakashi blinked. He snapped his fingers.

"Yes, that's the word!" he said, nodding his head. "Yes. It was like a kaleidoscope, except in only red and black. Do you know anything about that?"

The Sandaime nodded.

"That does sound familiar," he said. "The Lord Second, my mentor and predecessor, did extensive research into the sharingan during the latter part of his life. I might have some of his old papers still lying around somewhere in my personal library."

He gestured for Kakashi to leave, before pausing and getting a thoughtful look.

"Is there anything else you might need to tell me?"

Kakashi paused halfway out the door, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Well, Sasuke's missing an arm," he commented. "Says he fell down the stairs."

Hiruzen blinked.

Then he let out a sigh, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"How troublesome," the Professor muttered.

"Yeah. Tell me about it," Kakashi agreed.

Somewhere in the village, Shikamaru Nara sneezed.

"Man, twelve year old me was such a slob."

Naruto looked around at his apartment, shaking his head. It was an absolute pigsty.

Sasuke and Sakura stood behind the blond, to either side. Both looked around at the apartment, really taking in the messy, filthy state of their friend and teammate's living quarters.

"Right. Like you aren't STILL one," Sasuke drawled, rolling his eyes.

He smirked at Naruto.

The blond scoffed in response, shooting a dark look back over his shoulder.

"Bah. What do you know?" he grumbled.

Sakura looked around appraisingly. She and Sasuke had been in here earlier, of course, but she hadn't really taken the time to take a good look around until now.

She gave a weak shrug, and a lopsided half-smile.

"I don't know..." she murmured. "I wouldn't say it's that bad."

Naruto scratched the back of his neck, and he gave Sakura a sort of grateful look.

"You think so?" he said. "I mean, I know I was just a kid living on my own..."

"Y-Yeah, it's not that bad," Sakura repeated, saying it with a touch less conviction.

Sasuke snorted.

"I've seen landfills with less garbage," he scoffed, wrinkling his nose. "Please tell me you plan on tidying up in here, Naruto."

The blond shrugged.

"Maybe if I have time," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "But I was kinda busy sending out those letters, earlier. You know?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Sasuke muttered. He grimaced at the sight of a half empty cup ramen sitting amongst wrinkled, dirty tissues.

Sakura frowned, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Now, now, dear," she said, her tone gently remonstrating. "Be polite. That was as much your idea as Naruto's."

"I know, I know," Sasuke sighed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, woman... between you and our honorable lord hokage, it's a wonder I've manage to stay sane all these years."

"That's assuming an awful lot!" Naruto guffawed, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "Like you aren't already completely cracked." He waggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Sasuke looked like he was an inch away from pouting.

"Bastard," he sniped, but there was no real heat behind the word.

Sakura smiled indulgently, and wrapped an arm around Sasuke's waist. Naruto chuckled, and cleared away a spot on his couch. Garbage and old scrolls were heaped onto the coffee table, and one of the legs was propped up on a stack of ancient, yellowing newspapers.

"This place could really use a woman's touch," the pinkette observed absentmindedly. "Maybe Hinata could help you tidy up?"

"It's like the bachelor pad from hell," Sasuke agreed.

Naruto shrugged, before letting himself plop down on the couch.

"I was a total slob as a kid," he conceded. "But it's not like I'll be inviting people over for dinner parties, or anything."

A sock chose that moment to wriggle its way out from under a stack of ramen cups. Stale and crusty, more brown than white, the article of clothing started crawling off the coffee table. Gurgling hideously, the vile thing flopped onto the floor with an audible grunt.

Naruto pinned it down with a lazily flung kunai, not even looking in the sock's direction as he continued chatting with his teammates.

Sasuke and Sakura spared a mildly disturbed glance toward the still-writhing garment. The bloodcurdling screams were rather disconcerting.

"Naruto," Sasuke said, looking slightly sick. "Please. Clean your damn apartment."

Sakura nodded weakly in agreement.

"Y-Yeah... I think we'd all rather avoid a repeat of the Boxer Shorts Rebellion," she concurred.

"Or the Curdled Milk Revolt," Sasuke added, his eyes glinting with something like amusement.

Sakura smiled crookedly.

"Oh, yes," she said. "And of course, who can forget the Moldy Toast Assassination Plot?"

"Heavens forbid we have another Stocking Strike," Sasuke said seriously.

"Or a mutant cockroach insurgence," Sakura spoke.

"Ugh, that was horrible," Sasuke said with a shudder. "Don't even remind me." He made a face.

Sakura nodded sagely, and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, hon. I'm sure we'll be able to cut it off before it starts," she said. "If it looks like the roaches are about to achieve sentience and assimilate the power of chakra from Naruto's garbage..."

The Seventh Hokage made a very rude gesture.

"Assholes," Naruto grumbled, sounding distinctly petulant. "I am SO assigning you each a month of D-ranks when we get back home."

Sasuke and Sakura smiled, and whistled innocently.

OMAKE:

really stupidly vehemently pointless

o0o0o0o

You are hereby cordially invited to an Uzumaki family reunion in the Hidden Leaf Village. As a surviving descendant of the Uzumaki clan, your presence at this event would be greatly appreciated. There will be refreshments, of course, and plenty of festivities.

The date has not yet been set, but please RSVP as soon as possible. A second letter will be sent to you when we have finalized the arrangements.

Please send your reply to the following address.

o0o0o0o

Karin blinked. She turned the scroll over in her hands several times. A recently-acquired Kusagakure forehead protector was lying across her lap.

She frowned, glancing nervously at her teammates. The two older genin seemed unconcerned with the young redhead, busy amusing themselves by poking and prodding at the messily eviscerated corpse of the delivery ninja who had brought her this message.

With only a very faint grimace, Karin turned and started fishing through her things for a brush and scroll.

She was curious, to be honest.

And who knew? Maybe she'd meet actually meet a cute guy over there.

Karin blushed at the thought, and let out the slightest perverted giggle.

o0o0o0o

Karui of Kumogakure took one look at the contents of her letter, before swearing loudly and vehemently.

"One quarter!" she snapped at the parchment in her hand. "One measley quarter!"

Omoi and Samui watched their teammate curse at the scroll with expressions of mild worry.

"Is this about that whole Uzumaki thing?" the former wondered.

"Must be," Samui replied blandly. "What else would she be shouting 'one quarter, one quarter!' over?"

"Huh. I wonder what's in that letter, then?" Omoi murmured. "If it's got Karui in such a tizzy."

Samui eyed their redheaded teammate, who angrily spared one last glare for the scroll in her hand, before tossing it over her shoulder. Omoi didn't quite manage to duck in time, and he fell backwards over the black and blue form of the unfortunate delivery ninja.

o0o0o0o

Honoka Uzumaki nodded politely to the delivery ninja, smiling as she absentmindedly restrained one of the more temperamental test subjects with a relatively basic A-rank sealing jutsu.

She glanced down at the scroll the courier had passed off to her. It looked to be a message of some sort, and the wax seal was unbroken. There was a mild fuuinjutsu bound to it, one she expected would only open for a specific criteria.

Casually pricking her thumb, Honoka dripped a bit of her blood onto the wax seal, which promptly glowed for a second, before melting away into nothing.

Unfurling the scroll, she began to read.

The contents of the letter surprised her, and she barely even noticed when one of her employers' most recent attempts at creating the ultimate summoned beast broke free from its restraints just long enough to snap up the departing courier ninja in its jaws.

Humming thoughtfully, Honoka started looking for her writing supplies.

o0o0o0o

Konan stood silent and expressionless beside the Deva Path of her lord and comrade. He held a scroll in his hand, one which she had already checked quite thoroughly for traps.

Pain read the message contained within. His face was unreadable.

Several long minutes of silence passed between them.

"...is this some manner of joke?" he muttered at last, lowering the scroll. He glared sternly at the delivery ninja.

Despite the fact that he was being suspended in midair well over a dozen stories from the closely packed streets below, tightly wrapped in a cocoon of explosive notes, the messenger seemed quite unfazed as he politely shook his head.

Pain scowled, and stowed the letter away in the depths of his cloak.

"Dispose of him, Konan," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

His angel dutifully nodded, and moments later the citizens of Amegakure found themselves cheering on an impromptu fireworks display.

o0o0o0o

You are hereby cordially invited to an Uchiha family reunion in the Hidden Leaf Village. As a surviving descendant of the Uchiha clan (or unrelated bearer of the sharingan), your presence at this event would be greatly appreciated. There will be refreshments, of course, and plenty of festivities.

The date has not yet been set, but please RSVP as soon as possible. A second letter will be sent to you when we have finalized the arrangements.

Please send your reply to the following address.

o0o0o0o

Kakashi blinked, nearly running straight into the delivery ninja who had been standing outside the Sandaime's office.

"Eh?" he intelligently said, still a bit distracted from the talk he'd just had with the hokage.

"A letter for Kakashi Hatake," the courier said, the very picture of professionalism. He presented a scroll from the depths of his mail pouch, and Kakashi accepted it with an owlish blink.

The Copy Ninja dismissed the messenger with a bored wave of his hand, ignoring the slightly put off look on the man's face, and cracked the scroll open as he made his way out of the tower. Taking note of the Uchiha clan seal in the wax, Kakashi flicked his eye over the letter's contents.

It looked like complete gibberish.

Without missing a beat, he uncovered his sharingan.

"Ah. A family reunion...?" he drawled skeptically, seeing that he could now read the letter. A moment passed, and he shrugged. "...Well, I suppose it could be good therapy for the kid."

o0o0o0o

Danzo stood secure and cautious behind a high level barrier jutsu as one of his more disposable agents tested the scroll for traps. A delivery ninja stood off to one side, bound in straps and drooling a little as a mind-jutsu expert scoured the man's brain for any and all intelligence on the Foundation.

Danzo waited patiently as his agent slowly and carefully broke the seal on the scroll. He leaned on his cane, a stony expression on his face.

"Well?" he rasped, his voice coming out more like a growl than anything else.

"It appears to be encrypted," the agent replied blandly, toneless. "Judging by the pattern, I'd say it's probably meant to be read with some manner of doujutsu."

Danzo scowled, and after a moment's thought beckoned for the scroll to be brought over to him. Lowering the barrier and uncovering the sharingan he had quote-unquote acquired from Shisui Uchiha, the head of the Foundation irritably snatched the letter out of his soldier's hand.

If it were possible, his expression became even stonier when he actually read it.

o0o0o0o

Itachi Uchiha hummed thoughtfully as he read the letter in his hands. His brow was subtly furrowed, and a flicker of some unreadable emotion passed over his face.

"Foolish little brother..." he murmured. "Have you forgotten already?"

Kisame glanced curiously at his partner, who was staring holes into that illegible mess of text on the scroll the delivery ninja had handed him.

"Is it anything important, Itachi-san?" he inquired politely.

"Maybe," Itachi answered, sounding pensive. "...it seems I have been invited to a family reunion."

Kisame quirked an eyebrow at this.

"I thought you killed all your family," he quipped.

Itachi shrugged in silent reply, and handed a modest roll of bills to the courier-nin, who bowed gratefully before departing.

o0o0o0o

Tobi's eye twitched. He looked from the scroll in his hands to the violently dismembered remains of the delivery ninja who'd had the gall to address him by That Name which he had discarded so many years ago.

He looked back down at the letter, which was addressed to one Obito Uchiha. Had he possessed an eye with the enton affinity, the sheer force of his glare would have already combusted the poor scroll into tongues of pitch black flame.

He looked back at the delivery ninja, whom he had so brutally torn apart upon the first mention of that hated name. He felt a heat in his chest, and a pressure behind his eyes. His gut roiled furiously, filled with bile and wrath.

Lifting his mask, Tobi spat fire at the mutilated corpse. Then, for good measure, he undid the zipper on his trousers and emptied his bladder on the ashes.

The letter itself he tore into a number of very tiny pieces.

o0o0o0o

Chapter Text

"Welcome home, dear. How was your mission?"

This was the first thing Naruto heard upon passing the chuunin gate guards.

It was a fine, sunny day that saw Team Seven's return from their first official C-rank, and Hinata smiled cheerfully as her beloved walked back into the village.

"The mission went about as well as you could expect," Naruto said with a shrug. "It turned into an A-rank before we were even a day's walk from the village, of course. You know how that kind of thing goes."

Hinata nodded, and fell in step alongside Naruto as the blond and his team made their way into the village. Sasuke and Sakura nodded at the girl in acknowledgement, politely greeting her with a wave or a smile.

Kakashi didn't outwardly respond to Hinata's presence. He had his nose buried in a careworn copy of Icha Icha Paradise, and probably wouldn't have noticed it if the entire village burst into flames all around him.

Naruto smiled at the girl, though, an easy grin quirking his lips. Hinata returned the smile in her own demure fashion, quietly confident in her poise and expression.

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

"'M'alright," Naruto answered, assuaging her concern with a wave of his hand. "Wasn't anything we couldn't handle."

"That's good," Hinata commented. "I'd hate to see you or your teammates injured on your first real mission."

Naruto gave her a sly grin, and puffed out his chest.

"Nonsense, Hinata-chan! Every mission we take is important to the village. No matter what a job might be ranked as, it is imperative that we take it seriously. To do anything less would be an insult to our pride as shinobi, and to the trust of the hokage!"

Hinata giggled, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Yes, dear. Of course, dear," she said, responding in an absentminded, smile and nod sort of fashion. "Whatever you say."

Naruto repaid this comment with a blink-and-you-miss-it peck on the cheek, and a similarly quick pat on the rear.

"You know what I mean, sweetie," he spoke, winking cheerfully. "Every little bit counts, and the village depends on the revenue we bring in with our missions."

Hinata giggled, and retaliated by snatching her husband's hand and twining their fingers tightly together.

"You tease," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. She winked at him. "Don't start something you can't finish."

Naruto pouted.

"Even if I still can't do it reliably..." he muttered, before shaking his head. "Well, that's beside the point. I've got good news!"

Hinata delicately arched a slim, lavender eyebrow.

"Oh? And what would that be?" she inquired carefully.

"The mission was a success!"

The way he said mission made it clear to her that he meant something quite apart from any job sanctioned by the honorable Sandaime. She smiled cautiously, an unreadable expression flitting momentarily across her face.

"Ah," she murmured. "That's good."

Inari and the other villagers stared, slackjawed, at the sight of Gato's very few remaining men turning tail to flee. The vast majority of the mercenaries were laid out cold at the far end of the bridge, looking surprisingly unharmed despite their present state of unconsciousness.

The young Wave native who had done his darnedest to rally his dispirited countrymen weakly lowered his crossbow, blinking owlishly.

Kakashi and Zabuza looked pretty beat up. The latter appeared quite sheepish as someone who was either a very pretty girl or an EXTREMELY pretty boy tended to an assortment of minor injuries. Sakura herself had a pair of shadow clones attending to her jounin sensei, and the third one of her was healing some pretty gnarly stab wounds on the Kiri swordsman's arms.

Sasuke waved to Inari in languid greeting with his one arm , the ground around him littered with a veritable haystack of gleaming acupuncture needles, as well as a very large puddle. The older boy didn't look like he had a single scratch on him, or even one hair out of place.

And at the far end of the bridge, where the few conscious mercenaries left were flinging themselves over the edge to escape retribution at the hands of the ramshackle Wave militia, a seemingly unfazed Naruto was patting a distraught and sobbing Gato on the shoulder.

Notably, the tyrannical businessman's nose was bent at an odd angle, and he looked to have the makings of a nasty shiner around one eye.

"There, there," the blond was saying, speaking in a soothing tone. "We all make mistakes. But the important thing is knowing when to admit you've done wrong."

"I just wanted you to love me, papa...!" the ruthless shipping magnate wailed. "I never meant to hurt all those people!"

He buried his face in his hands, a very loud and miserable sounding sob tearing from his throat.

Inari, and the several score of concerned Wave citizens backing him up, blinked in unison. The effect was somewhere between comical and creepy. You could actually HEAR their eyelids sorta wetly clapping shut, before sliding back apart in perfect synchronization.

"...the hell did we miss?" Inari gaped.

Hinata met Naruto's eye, and he nodded seriously. She smiled, tilting her head in silent acknowledgement of the unspoken message. He squeezed her hand, and leaned in for another quick and silent ninja kiss.

A slightest pink flush worked its way up from the nape of Hinata's neck, her cheeks subtly coloring. Her smile became playfully lopsided, and she gently shoved her husband.

"Hahaha!" Naruto laughed, bright and sunny. "It is, it is!"

Kakashi looked up from his book to eye the pair a hint curiously. He shook his head, sighing in what sounded like amused exasperation.

"Man, kids these days..." he muttered to himself. "Hard to believe they're already pairing off."

There was a touch of something nostalgic in the man's tone, a whisper of happy recollection untainted by the bitterer memories of bloodshed and tears. He glanced from Naruto and Hinata, who seemed to be competing to see who could express their affections the most stealthily as they walked down mainstreet, to Sasuke and Sakura, who sounded like they were in the middle of bickering like an old married couple.

"Honestly, sweetie... just admit you thought he was cute, already," the pinkette said to the last loyal Uchiha, a twinkle of something Kakashi would rather not psychoanalyze in her eyes.

"I did not," Sasuke retorted stubbornly, hand tucked peevishly into his pocket. He was slouching and scowling, a slight scowl on his face. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not into that kind of thing?"

Sakura giggled and gave him a pat on the back.

"Now, now!" she singsonged. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. He wore that yukata very well, after all."

Sasuke's cheeks reddened, and he looked away from Sakura.

"Sure, okay. Yeah," he muttered peevishly. "It did look good on him, I'll admit that much. If he'd been a girl, I might have even thought he was cute." He gave Sakura a sharp look. "But he wasn't. So I didn't."

"Mm-hm. Whatever you have to tell yourself," Sakura said, smirking wryly. "Personally, I'd say he was absolutely ADORABLE."

"You and your shoutacon," Sasuke huffed. "Honestly, woman..."

Sakura rolled her eyes.

"Prude," she teased, blowing a raspberry. Then she winked. "Or maybe I should say hypocrite," she added, smirking. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I saw you checking out Tsunami-san's..."

"That's completely different," Sasuke cut in, speaking remarkably loftily. Briefly shooting a glance at Kakashi, he lowered his voice to say: "She's much closer to our actual age, for one thing."

Sakura snorted.

"And the fact that you and I are an item isn't enough to convince you not to stare at her ass?" she jibed, though there was no actual heat in her words.

"Oh, please. Like it kept you from eyeing Zabuza's package," Sasuke retorted, rolling his eyes.

Sakura shrugged.

"What can I say?" she replied. "I have a thing for younger men."

"He's not what I'd call handsome, though," Sasuke said. "Or are you into that whole 'no-eyebrows' thing?"

"And what would you call handsome?" Sakura teased, latching onto the first part of his statement. "Eh, honey?"

Sasuke blushed. It wasn't immediately obvious, but it was there.

He coughed, clearing his throat.

"...Haku," he conceded, seeing that his wife had brought their topic full-circle. Quickly, face reddening further, he added: "You know, since most girls seem to like their men to be on the more effeminate side..."

"He IS a total bishie," Sakura conceded, nodding sagely. "Though I'd say I've mostly outgrown that phase. Plus his face is just a bit too girly for my tastes."

She winked at Sasuke, and grabbed his hand.

"No way in hell is that a man," Sasuke hissed to Naruto, watching Haku leave the clearing. "Men do not shake their hips like that."

"Clearly you've never seen Sai at a dance club," Naruto drawled, watching Haku go. "Besides, which of us apprenticed under the biggest straight pervert in the Elemental Nations? I know a woman when I see one."

"Haku is not a man," Sasuke insisted vehemently. "She's obviously just a very flat-chested girl."

Naruto rolled his eyes.

"Keep telling yourself that, bud. If you want to believe that Haku is just a pettanko who likes to go around lying about her gender..."

"She is," Sasuke spoke, a steely look in his eyes. "And if you so much as breathe a whisper to the contrary, I will punch you SO HARD."

Naruto snorted, a smirk tilting his lips.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he chirped. Then he waggled his eyebrows. "But in all seriousness, Haku does have a very nice ass."

"...yeah, fair enough," Sasuke conceded, a faint flush to his cheeks.

"That never happened, Naruto," Sasuke ground out, glaring at the blond.

Naruto smirked mischievously.

"Maybe," he said evasively. "But you can't definitively prove a negative statement, so there's always a chance that you actually were ogling Haku's butt."

Sasuke glared. His face was red as a beet. Sakura giggled, amusedly side-eyeing her husband. Hinata smiled, her eyes twinkling with interest.

Kakashi turned a page in his Icha Icha.

"I hate you so much right now," Sasuke muttered darkly.

Naruto laughed, waving a hand dismissively.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say," he said.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with you appreciating certain parts of this Haku-san's anatomy," Hinata added comfortingly, patting Sasuke on the shoulder of his missing arm.

Sakura nodded eagerly.

"And if you decided to appreciate them in a more hands on manner..." she added with a playful wink, "...preferably while I'm watching..."

The pinkette waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Sasuke grimaced at this, and looked dearly like he wanted to continue defending his heterosexuality. Instead, after a moment of visible indecision he spat out a exceptionally vehement curse against Naruto, Haku, and the whole damn world in general.

Kakashi turned another page in his Icha Icha.

Chapter Text

Tsunade was not having the best day.

Or week.

...or month.

In fact, pretty much the whole past several years had just been one big mess. Aside from the gambling losses, and massive debts, and sleepless nights filled with dreams of blood and failure, she also had to deal with people coming to her and asking for her services.

And not those kinds of services, mind you – she was called the Legendary Sucker SOLELY for the fact that she never knew when to quit, when it came to gambling. But she was also a legendary medic, almost universally considered to be the best healer in the world.

So there were lots of people who wanted her to take a look at their sickly or injured loved ones. And for the most part, these were the otherwise hopeless cases who had nothing left to lose – the sort of people who thought, "Well, if Tsunade can't do it, no one can."

This wouldn't be so bad, of course, if the only folk requesting her aid were wealthy, affluent types who could pay handsomely for her trouble. Sure, there was that crippling hemophobia she had to work around, but that's what she had Shizune for.

But unfortunately, a disproportionate number of the people who sought Tsunade out were desperate charity cases. And it never failed to make her feel like a total heel when she turned those sorts away, but she also knew that she couldn't just go around treating people for free. She needed every red cent just to scrape by from one day to the next.

She wouldn't dirty her hands for free.

She couldn't afford to.

... ... ... and yet, she would do a hundred pro bono jobs in a heartbeat, if only it meant never having to go back to the Leaf again. Even after all these years, her sensei refused to give up on trying to convince her to return.

Tsunade let out an exasperated sigh, leaning against a good sized boulder as she stared up at the clouds. Fluffy, meandering drifts of water vapor, white cotton wisps floating across a blue backdrop. Her eyes, brown and weary, flicked side to side as she stared listlessly at the sky.

That one looks like a toad.

She gazed at a particularly lumpy cumulus, trailing banks like outstretched legs behind it. The resemblance was faint, and academically Tsunade understood that it was just a quirk of the brain's image visual recognition processes, that the cloud didn't really bear objectivesimilarity to any sort of amphibian.

Yet, all the same, her thoughts turned unbidden to Jiraiya, whom she had both consciously and unconsciously associated with toads for nearly as long as she'd known the man. Tsunade felt a weight in her chest, and her eyelids seemed painfully heavy. She stared silently at the sky, feeling unusually introspective.

Normally she would be gambling at this time of day, or traveling from one town to another, or even doing some kind of favor for one of her debtors to make them let up a bit of the pressure. But the nearest town was still a few days away, and no one was hounding her for money at the moment. And besides that, Shizune wasn't looking all that good today.

It was that time of the month for the younger woman, and even with her level of medical ninjutsu there was only so much that could be done without access to certain herbs or pharmaceuticals. And Tsunade had lost even more money at the last town than usual, so much so that they'd been forced to choose between food or medicine.

Shizune was a real trooper, of course, and would have gladly soldiered on through the discomfort, but Tsunade felt sympathetic to the girl (and even if Shizune was a mature woman and jounin-level kunoichi much, much closer in age to thirty than thirteen, she would probably always think of her as a girl) and had suggested they take a break.

Although she didn't show it outright, Tsunade could tell that Shizune was grateful. They were resting a short ways off the road, now, maybe three or so yards. Tsunade was reclining against a small boulder, and the girl who could have been her niece was down by the stream, splashing her face with cool water.

Judging by the position of the sun overhead, and the length of time for which they'd been walking, it was probably late noon. Maybe around one or two o'clock.

Tsunade glanced towards her apprentice and traveling companion, who was gently coaxing Tonton to take a drink while they were stopped. It wasn't a particularly large stream, just four feet across and maybe two, two-and-a-half foot deep, but nonetheless the diminutive pig looked distinctly mistrustful of the burbling water.

As Shizune continued patting and urging her pet/summon to take a sip, Tsunade looked down in her lap, shifting against the rock and feeling the scroll in her coat pocket. It pressed into her side, and she felt a twinge of ill humor at the reminder of its presence.

She scowled.

You are hereby cordially invited to an Uzumaki family reunion in the Hidden Leaf Village. As a surviving descendant of the Uzumaki clan, your presence at this event would be greatly appreciated...

The letter's contents replayed themselves through her mind, like the words of a particularly pushy salesman who lacked the good sense to take no for an answer.

"Uzumaki...? That's rich," Tsunade muttered darkly, wondering ruefully if she didn't still have a half-full bottle of sake somewhere amongst her possessions. "Please. Like I'd ever actually fall for such a transparent ploy." She shook her head, staring blearily at the grass between her legs. "You'll need to do a hell of a lot better than that if you want to lure me back to the village, Sarutobi-sensei..."

Down by the stream, Shizune let out a startled yelp as a testy, mulish Tonton splashed her clothes with a considerable volume of rather chilly water.

"Ack! No, bad! Bad Tonton!" the woman squeaked. "BAD!"

Tsunade pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh... I need a blasted drink," she sighed.

Kiba ducked out of sight when he saw Team Seven approaching with Hinata in tow. He gently wrapped a hand around Akamaru's muzzle, silently hushing the pup. Concealed behind a pile of crates, the Inuzuka cautiously peeked out from a gap between the boxes.

His eyes were narrowed, and his lips described a perplexed frown. He stared suspiciously at Naruto, who was holding Hinata's hand, chatting and smiling with the girl like he didn't have a care in the world.

Kiba fought the urge to growl.

Shino had said he was being ridiculous to get so worked up over Hinata hanging out with the members of another team. Kiba, in frustrated retaliation, had snapped "Your FACE is ridiculous!"

It only took Kurenai-sensei a few seconds to pull her two male genin off of each other, but the lecture she'd then given them about maturity and cooperation and all that crap ate up nearly half an hour of their training time.

This left both boys very irked indeed.

And in Kiba's opinion, Naruto and his teammates were obviously the ones to blame for that. After all, if it weren't for how odd Naruto and Sasuke had been acting recently, he wouldn't have felt the need to get so worked up over how much time Hinata was spending with them in between training and missions. And if he wasn't so obssessive about figuring out what the hell was up with Team Seven, he wouldn't have been getting on Shino's nerves with his fidgeting and muttered suspicions.

So, yeah. As far as he was concerned, that whole lecture was all Naruto's fault. Sasuke's, too.

(He gave Sakura a pass because she was a girl, and he didn't know her all that well from the academy anyways, so he wasn't actually sure how much of her behavior recently could actually be considered unusual)

Kiba glared at Naruto from behind what he thought was perfect cover. And in all fairness, it WAS pretty good stealth for a ninja as inexperienced as himself. Sneaky enough to fool most other rookie genin without any problem.

Of course, none of those five were rookie anything.

Kakashi could smell the boy, and hear him crouching behind the boxes. Sasuke and Sakura detected him instinctively, getting the gut feeling that someone was watching them, and quickly deducing who it was and where they were hidden.

Hinata, although her doujutsu was not properly active, still had very sharp sight. She'd spotted Kiba before he even saw them coming. And Naruto, as a sensory type ninja whose skills were beyond even being called kage level, was aware of every single person in the village. Kiba might as well have been standing three inches from the blond's face, for all the good his hiding spot did him.

So all five members of this group were in fact perfectly conscious of Kiba spying on them. Kakashi noticed that his students (and Hinata) noticed, and each of the four reluctant time travelers were intuitively aware of the others' awareness.

Naruto, not sensing any malice greater than a mild curiousity with the tiniest dash of petty envy, gave Sasuke a look that told the Uchiha to stand down right as he was considering whether to call out their apparent stalker. Sasuke scowled infinitesimally at this, but then gave a dismissive half shrug.

Sakura smiled, meeting Sasuke's eyes, and nodded in unspoken understanding. Hinata clasped Naruto's hand, squeezing it gently.

Kakashi pondered what to do for dinner.

Kiba, being only an inexperienced rookie genin (albeit a reasonably talented one) did not realize that he'd been spotted. Thus, he continued to tail Team Seven (plus Hinata) for several more minutes.

They went on up the street, and Kiba slipped stealthily out from behind the crates, skulking along after them. He scurried from one cover to the next, zigzagging across the road, zipping behind streetlamps and stalls.

Kakashi parted ways with his team after two more blocks, waving distractedly to Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, and telling them to take the rest of the week off. From what Kiba could gather, apparently their last mission had been a higher rank than expected, and there was a lot of paperwork Kakashi would need to go through before his genin could take another job.

"I don't see what the big deal is..." Sasuke's voice drifted down to Kiba, the Inuzuka listening raptly to Team Seven's conversation. "...It was just an A-rank, after all... and not even a particularly difficult one."

Kiba shared a perplexed look with Akamaru at this statement.

An A-rank?

... ... ...nah, that couldn't be. Sasuke was probably just taking the mickey.

Sure, the Uchiha hadn't exactly been known for his sense of humor back in the academy, but Kiba had noticed through his reconnaissance ("Shut up, Shino, it's not stalking!") that Sasuke had, after graduation, apparently cultivated a certain dry, sarcastic wit. So this was probably some kind of weird, team in-joke.

Kiba's thoughts were then interrupted by a snatch of speech from Sakura.

"...yeah, sensei... not a single scratch between the three of us . . . maybe next time . . . . . actual challenge..."

Akamaru fidgeted next to Kiba. Team Seven was moving outside their range of hearing.

Kiba nodded, and darted up across the street. He ducked behind a barrel not three feet behind Kakashi, and was once more close enough to hear what his marks were saying.

"...the paperwork will take a while, regardless."

"You sure you don't want our help with the mission report, Kaka-sensei? More hands make for lighter burdens, after all."

"But too many cooks spoil the broth, Naruto. Kakashi-sensei has already offered to do that for us."

"Right. And besides, I doubt Kakashi would trust us anywhere near a mission report form after that Tora fiasco..."

Naruto sighed, and shook his head. He, Sakura, Sasuke, and Hinata came to a stop while Kakashi continued onward. Team Seven's jounin sensei did not tarry, and was soon well out of sight.

"It was an honest accident," the blond said, looking mildly peevish. "Really, just because the Old Man wound up having to redact like three quarters of the report when he finally sent that copy over to ANBU archives..."

Sakura rolled her eyes.

"It was a D-rank mission, Naruto. How you managed to get the details of the report classified as an S-rank secret is beyond me."

Hinata let out a giggle.

"Ah, yes, I remember hearing about that... it's what caused that recent diplomatic incident with Cloud, right?"

Kiba blinked, not sure how to take this remark.

Sasuke, in contrast, snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You should've known better than to try and borrow chakra from the ni—"

"—Yugito Ni'i-san, correct?" Hinata interjected, shooting Sasuke an oddly stern look. "Yes, she was with the delegation that came to the village. I overheard as much from father."

A strange expression flickered across Sasuke's face. He gave a start, before reddening and nodding.

"Yeah, right. That's what I meant."

(Somehow or other, Kiba got the opposite impression... but honestly, he couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying. The individual words made sense, but something about the way they were being strung together simply refused to parse.)

Sasuke gave Naruto an odd look, after saying this, and the blond scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Heheh... to be fair, I'd thought Tora might react better to a more feline chakra."

"But clearly you were mistaken," Sakura commented. She smirked.

Naruto blushed.

"...right. Yeah, fair enough." He gave a shrug. "And, honestly, it had completely slipped my mind that Yugito would still..."

"It was a pain in the ass trying to explain that whole mess to the Lord Third," Sasuke sighed, shaking his head. "I don't think he even bought our explanation."

Hinata smiled.

"What was it, again...?" she mused, a twinkle in her eye. "I do recall that Naruto told me, but the exact details seem to have slipped my mind..."

Sakura gave Hinata a curious look. There was something Kiba couldn't read in the pinkette's eyes, and for the briefest moment he thought he saw her glancing toward his hiding spot. But the next moment she was looking back at Hinata, and didn't seem to give any noticeable sign that she had seen him.

(Kiba let out a relieved sigh.)

He didn't catch what Sakura said next, though. She lowered her voice and leaned in toward Hinata, cupping a hand over her mouth to stymie any would-be lip readers. Whatever Sakura said, though, it must have been very amusing, because Hinata suddenly let out a clear and mirthful laugh.

" Oh my! You don't say!" she tittered, pearlescent eyes merrily twinkling. "Oh, my."

She shook her head, smiling playfully at Naruto.

The blond blushed when Hinata's gaze fell on him, and he scratched the back of his neck.

"What can I say?" he mumbled, sounding a touch sheepish. "I was grasping at straws with that one... m'just thankful Yugito-chan didn't bother to contradict me."

Sasuke smirked.

"I daresay she wouldn't have been able, whether she wanted to or not..." he drawled. His eyes gleamed. "What with how hard she was laughing..."

Naruto responded with a mildly rude gesture.

"Oh, shove off," he sniped. "Or should I tell Sakura about those magazines you had me hide for you the other day...?"

Sasuke went red in the face.

"I told you," he grumbled. "They weren't mine. I found them in a box of Itachi's old things."

Naruto smirked.

"Ohoho?" he drawled, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "So you and Obito weren't the only Uchiha to have a nurse fetish..."

Sasuke's eye twitched, and he leaned in to hiss something Kiba couldn't quite catch. All he was able to make out were "just because" something "medic-ninja" and something, something, "doesn't even count, anyways."

Hinata smiled knowingly at this, and glanced sidelong at Naruto, who mirrored her expression.

"Are you sure, Sasuke?" said the Hyuuga heiress. "Because I seem to recall hearing about a certain anniversary dinner..."

Sasuke's face went redder than any tomato, and he immediately wheeled on Sakura with an expression on his face that Kiba might have described as something almost like betrayal.

"You told HINATA?!" he yelped.

Sakura shook her head, smiling softly.

"Don't look at me, dear," she told him. "I wasn't the one who blabbed."

Sasuke frowned. He seemed to calm down marginally at this, though he still looked a touch mortified.

"...was it Shizune?" he muttered.

"Hana," Sakura said. "After it was over, I guess she was really drunk, and went off and blabbed to..."

Once again, it seemed for a split second like Sakura was looking straight at Kiba. But then her eyes were back on Sasuke, and she was talking like she hadn't seen anything.

Kiba wondered slightly at this comment about his sister getting drunk. Hana wasn't actually of age yet, and she usually seemed to be very stringent about following the rules. He spent a few seconds mentally debating whether to file this remark away as potential blackmail material on his big sis.

He also wondered what his older sister would know about Sasuke and Sakura, but shrugged it off a moment later as something he didn't particularly care about.

"...well, I'm sure you can guess who," Sakura finished.

Sasuke scowled, implying that, yes, he could guess who.

"Remind to kick that bastard's ass the next time we see him," he muttered. Onyx eyes flashed.

Sakura smiled indulgently, and nodded her head.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, dear."

She patted him on the shoulder.

Kabuto Yakushi frowned as he looked over the most recent intelligence he'd gathered within the village. Coded documents written in a cipher that only three people alive could read appeared on his desk in a puff of smoke, called up from within a small black storage scroll.

His bedroom was nothing special. It was not especially tidy, but not quite messy, either. It was a small, "cozy" affair in a cheap, modest flat. Perfectly ordinary and unremarkable: nothing that would lead someone to suspect its tenant as being anything unusual.

Kabuto's desk lamp shined a sickly yellow light over his coded documents. Papers rustled as he shuffled them, flipping through the intelligence reports.

Kabuto was a firm believer in checking his work.

Dark eyes swiveled left and right, skimming the contents of the documents he had compiled over the last few weeks. Kabuto was a very good spy, and rarely ever let something escape his attention. There was no such thing as a superfluous detail in his opinion. Even if it didn't seem immediately important, you could never know when an apparently small matter might wind up proving paramount.

It had already been decided that he would meet up with one of Lord Orochimaru's agents during his next mission outside the village. Tentative plans had been drawn up for infiltrating Konoha during the next chuunin exams, and while there was nothing concrete yet, it was nonetheless crucial that Kabuto gather as much information as possible.

Scientia potentia est. That was Orochimaru's motto, and Kabuto believed in it strongly. The intelligence he would be passing along to the Hidden Sound was worth his weight in gold, and it would be inexcusably remiss of him to hand along anything faulty or suspect.

Knowledge was power, and power corrupted. And Kabuto was one of the best damn spies alive. He knew better than to trust anyone completely. Even Orochimaru.

Especially Orochimaru.

Glancing again at a paper which described a private meeting between the Sandaime Hokage and Kakashi Hatake – the transcript of a conversation regarding one young Sasuke's apparent activation of the rare and potent mangekyo sharingan – Kabuto hummed thoughtfully. The glare from his lamp's light rendered the young man's spectacles nearly opaque from the right angle.

The corner of his lip twitched up in something distantly like a smirk. Separating this paper from the others, Kabuto crumpled it up and tossed it into his waste basket. Fractions of a second later, he deftly and disinterestedly smothered the resultant fire with a flame retardant blanket.

He then glanced at a closely related form, one which contained an encoded copy of a certain medical report regarding young Sasuke and his missing arm.

It took only a moment for the spy to decide his next course of action.

Grabbing his pen, Kabuto added a few notes to subtly emphasize the possible ramifications of Sasuke's dismemberment, particularly in regards to his combat ability, and certain top secret plans that Orochimaru had been devising for the lad.

Then he flicked through a few more papers, coming eventually to a report on the so-called "Hinata Massacre" (the Hyuuga clan had hushed the incident up pretty quickly, but not before Kabuto had learned everything he needed to know).

With a flourish of his pen, Kabuto added a few notes on the byakugan's potential usefulness, inconspicuously commenting on the apparent level of skill which young Hinata had demonstrated. He then smiled to himself, capping his pen after a few minutes of writing, and nodded in satisfaction with his work.

Setting that aside, Kabuto proceeded to check the rest of his reports.

It would not do to send Orochimaru-sama any faulty or misleading intelligence, after all.

"Can you believe that girl?" Ino hissed, seething in her usual seat at Yakiniku-Q.

Chouji sat next next to the platinum blonde, inhaling deeply as their meat cooked on the grill. He smiled at his female teammate, and gave her a goodnatured chuckle.

"That depends," he said. "Who are you talking about?"

Shikamaru sighed, seated opposite his best friend.

"C'mon, Chouji, I'm sure there's only one girl she'd be talking about like that," he grumbled, glancing wistfully out the window. "It's Sakura, right?"

Ino glared.

"She's been getting far too cozy with Sasuke-kun," the Yamanaka heiress muttered, her eyes flashing. She ground her teeth. "That human billboard... if she thinks that being on the same team is an excuse for them to act all lovey-dovey...!"

Chouji arched one of his eyebrows at this statement.

"Love-dovey?" he said, side-eyeing Ino. "Are we talking about the same Sakura, here? I've seen 'em around the village a couple times, you know. She and Sasuke aren't exactly what I'd call mushy or ooey-gooey."

"Half the time I see them, those two are practically at each other's throats," Shikamaru concurred. "Hardly a starstruck romance, if you ask me."

Ino rolled her eyes.

"Boys," she muttered in apparent exasperation. "Can't you two even read between the lines? Sakura and Sasuke-kun are flirting all the time! It's sickening!"

"Flirting?" Shikamaru parroted, sounding disbelieving. He made a face. "Geez. If that's what you think courtship is supposed to look like, then maybe I should just forego romance altogether."

"Yeah," Chouji said, nodding. "I'm with Shikamaru on this one. If that's what you call flirting..."

Ino scoffed.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she muttered. "You two don't know the first thing about romance, do you?" She shook her head. "Why, next I suppose you'll be saying you can't even tell Naruto and Hinata are an item."

Shikamaru blinked.

"Wait, what?" he said.

Chouji stared at Ino, looking similarly astonished.

"Those two? An item?"

Ino stared at the two, unwilling to believe that they could possibly be THIS oblivious. After a moment's thought, and the slowly dawning realization that, yes, her teammates really were that thick, she let out a miserable groan.

"I can't believe I'm supposed to work with you idiots..." she bemoaned.

"Yeah, yeah... right back at you, Ino," Shikamaru muttered.

Chouji's attention shifted back to the meat on the grill.

"Well, enough talk," he said. "Smells like lunch is ready."

Ino scowled, but reluctantly grabbed her chopsticks. Shikamaru mentally debated the merits of competing with his teammates for the food versus just getting something out of the fridge once he got home.

For his part, Asuma was greatly enjoying his impromptu restroom rendezvous with Kurenai.

Chapter Text

Neji was a genius. He would not be the first to tell you this, but Lee and Tenten both spoke highly enough of his skills, without any need for prompting. The former would in a mix of envy and admiration, and the latter would out of simple respect.

Neji was the rookie of the year in his graduating class. His grades had all been very good, with high marks across the board. Practically every last one of his academy instructors agreed that he held the most promise out of all his classmates, and several of his former teachers had a running pool on when he would be promoted to jounin.

(There was very good money on him making the cut before his eighteenth birthday)

Neji was a veritable taijutsu prodigy, scarcely fourteen yet already nearing definite mastery of the subtle and formidable gentle fist style. He could already go toe to toe with most chuunin in hand to hand combat, and his practical and theoretical grasp of the Hyuuga clan's secret arts was virtually second to none.

Neji had all the makings of an excellent shinobi. Certainly there were those who doubted the boy's emotional hang ups, and questioned whether he would truly grow into a stable and well-adjusted soldier of the Leaf, but most trusted that he could come to terms with his issues, given sufficient time.

And, all of that aside, he did have the skill. Neji was an excellent fighter, with a cool temperament and (seemingly) level head. Even people who weren't fond of the boy could appreciate his combat prowess, and his grasp of the ninjutsu fundaments. Neji's peers admired him greatly – even those who dearly longed to knock him down a peg could at least respect his ability.

But all of that respect would probably fly out the window if they could see him right now.

Neji Hyuuga, rookie of the year, gentle fist prodigy, wielder of the strongest and purest byakugan of his generation, was cowering behind a rack of brooms and mops, right next to a shelf of miscellaneous cleaning supplies. There was dust in his hair, and his clothes were disheveled.

He was hiding.

"Oh, Neji-niisan~? Wherever might you be~?"

That honeyed, chirping voice sent shivers down Neji's spine. The bad kind of shivers.

The fear kind.

(His cousin was terrifying)

A tuneless humming reached his ears, wafting easily through the paper-thin sliding door. Neji's pulse skyrocketed at the sound, and he started shivering despite himself. His face was chalk white.

"You are my friend, hm-mm-hm-hm... You are my dream... hmm-hm, do you remember when...? Hm-mm-hm-mm, hmm-hm-mm-hm-hm... da na na, da da, the distance..."

Neji bit back a whimper, and he prayed to every god, kami, and saint he'd ever heard of that Hinata Hyuuga would not deign to activate her byakugan. If she did, it was as good as over.

He really didn't know what the girl would do if she found him, but considering what had happened the day after her academy graduation... well, Neji had to admit that he'd never been particularly pleasant to the girl. Not that he'd ever been outright hostile, considering that Hiashi-sama had activated his father's curse mark over the man just glaring at his daughter...

...but Hinata was obviously unstable. A historical lack of blatant bellicosity on Neji's part would hardly save him from sharing the fate of his more unfortunate family members if the girl up and snapped again. And he had certainly turned his nose up at her enough times in the past to worry about her possibly holding a grudge.

Ever since that event, which had quickly become known as the Hinata Massacre (because for all their stoicism and pomposity, most of the elder Hyuuga had a guilty fondness for puns), Neji had taken to avoiding Hinata as much as possible.

And it actually wasn't too difficult, at first. Hiashi-sama had quite sensibly relieved the prickly and obstinate Neji of any duties which might bring him into close contact with the girl shortly after her rampage, for fear that he might set her off with his Neji-ness. But it seemed that Hinata had noticed his absence, and she was becoming increasingly fixated on him.

She actively sought him out, now, and Neji had grown fearful that Hinata would ultimately find him just in time to have another violent episode.

He'd not been so worried about it at first, but as time passed he became more aware of Hinata's vastly improved skills. A few of the stronger and more arrogant clansmen had stubbornly refused to accept that this shy little wallflower had hospitalized nearly a tenth of their number, and thus had, one-by-one, challenged her to spars over the past few weeks. Not one of them lasted more than ten seconds.

Neji had covertly espied one of these spars, and had been frightened to see the girl effortlessly dismantling a pair of men who were collectively almost three decades her senior. These were no cocky weaklings, either – they had been tried and proven experts of the gentle fist, tempered and hardened shinobi whose skills even Neji secretly... well, admired was a bit of a strong word, but they were very good fighters, and he KNEW it.

And Hinata took them down without breaking a sweat.

Her smile didn't even falter.

That had put things into perspective for him. Namely, that Hinata Hyuuga was fucking terrifying.

So Neji did his damnedest to avoid her whenever possible, even at the cost of his own dignity. It had certainly been galling to hear Tenten giggle and guffaw over seeing him duck into the bushes the other day when Hinata had come calling at his team's training ground, but when push came to shove Neji happened to prioritize his personal well being over other people's perceptions of him.

(Although the glimmer of mirth in Lee's eyes had almost been enough to make him seriously consider suicide by cousin)

Neji felt a chill go down his spine as Hinata's footsteps – light and nearly inaudible – came closer to his hiding place. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

"Neji-niisan?" came Hinata's voice, frighteningly near and clear. She was right outside the broom closet. "Why won't you come out and talk to me? It has been a very long time since we've last spoken."

Neji was stiff as a board, and white as a sheet. Silently whispered prayers for mercy died on his lips, hearing a hand come to rest on the paper-thin shoji door.

A sliver of light found its way into the dark closet. Neji shrank behind the mops and brooms, hearing the door slide open. The slender beam of luminescence spread, widening as the shade was parted.

Light fell across his face, and he beheld two shimmering opal orbs.

The last of Neji's hopes died and shriveled up somewhere between his liver and kidneys.

"Ah, there you are," Hinata chirped, beaming at her older cousin. "I have been looking everywhere for you, Neji-niisan~"

The stoic Hyuuga prodigy whimpered.

The international journeyman advancement examinations (known more commonly today as the Chuunin Exams) were first held in Konoha a little over sixty years ago, the product of a tentative collaboration between Tobirama Senju and the other five kage. Genin from the greater hidden villages were sent to the Leaf to participate in a test of the Nidaime's own devising, a three-stage series of challenges designed to prove the worth of candidates for promotion to chuunin.

It was virtually unheard of at the time. Before the founding of the hidden villages, there hadn't really been any sort of concrete ranking system for shinobi. Back when it was just the various ninja clans fighting amongst themselves, missions were simply entrusted to whoever was available at the time, and it wasn't until Madara and Hashirama came along that anyone bothered to actually try and work out a better system.

Ranking missions according to difficulty/price and assigning them to shinobi of appropriate skill was a relatively recent idea, a response by the Senju and Uchiha patriarchs to the senseless loss of life they had witnessed in their youth during the Warring States Era. Hashirama and Madara were visionaries, even if the latter did wind up going batshit and trying to destroy the village he helped create.

From the beginning, those two had focused on the big picture, leaving the details up to Tobirama. He was the one who figured that it would be expedient to rank shinobi in a similar manner to how they ranked missions. The "ge-chuu-jou" naming scheme was Madara's contribution, while the D through S system of mission ranking was conceived by Hashirama.

Tobirama, like always, wound up being the one to figure out the specifics of what would qualify a mission for a particular rank, and accordingly devise how those missions would be assigned among the village shinobi.

That was just what he did.

From the time they were kids, Hashirama was the one who would go off spouting all these crazy ideas, while Tobirama was the one who would cover for him. He was the guy who took all the wild, ambitious dreams of the First Hokage and worked out how to actually make those things happen. Like the chuunin exams.

Hashirama had wanted a fair and logical way for ninja to rise through the ranks, and he'd kicked around plenty of crazy and impractical ideas during his tenure as hokage, but it wasn't until Tobirama took up the hat that anything was actually done. It was the Nidaime who determined how to test the readiness of genin for promotion to chuunin, the specific qualities they would look for – intelligence, adaptability, and martial prowess, all set in the context of one's fitness to lead squads out into the field.

Tobirama was the one who negotiated with the other nations to send their own genin over to take the exams he ultimately devised, convincing them to use it as a proxy for war if they had to. He was the one who began the tradition of the chuunin exams, who laid down the various regulations and bylaws governing it.

Many students might have overlooked the Second Hokage for not being as monstrously powerful and charismatic as the First, or as subtly skillful and diplomatic as the Third, but Tobirama did more to shape the infrastructure and laws of the hidden villages than any other kage. Period. Hashirama and Madara were the ones who got the bright idea to found a village, but Tobirama was the one who figured out how to keep that village running.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, having served as hokage for over fifty years altogether, had a deep and abiding respect for his late mentor. Tobirama Senju had been an administrative genius, and even if the some of the man's internal policies had come back to bite Konoha in the ass (the Uchiha clan's attempted coup in bitterness at a perceived marginalization within the village was a glaring example), there could be no ignoring everything he had done for the organization and infrastructure of the Hidden Leaf.

Hiruzen, who had come to be known as the Professor in his autumn years, chewed absentmindedly on his pipe as he skimmed over some very important paperwork. Preparations for the chuunin exams were under way in the village. The proctors for the three stages of the exams had all been chosen, and the details of the tests were being hammered out between them.

Materials and manpower were requested for upkeep and repair of the tower in the Forest of Death, as training ground number forty-four had come to be known among the younger generations. Forms for the assignment of missions to increase highway patrols in the coming months required the hokage's signature. Messenger hawks were being put through their paces, and ANBU was knuckling down to ensure that not so much as a pocket would be picked when the foreign delegates came up for the final phase.

All of this left Hiruzen feeling quite nostalgic. He remembered the hustle and bustle of the village when Tobirama-sensei – Nidaime-sama – initiated preparations for the very first Chuunin Exams. Nobody had been quite sure what to expect, back then, Hiruzen and his teammates included.

But when it came time for everything to start... well, the exams went off without a hitch. Hiruzen rightly earned his advancement to chuunin – he and Danzo the very first Leaf ninja to ever be promoted through the Exams, matching wits and fists in the final round of the third phase – and the other kage were suitably impressed, well and truly assured of the feasibility and usefulness of the exams.

The Sandaime smiled, puffing on his pipe as he thought back on all the chuunin exams he had witnessed over the years. He'd seen ninja make showings that put his genin self to shame, the likes of Kakashi and Itachi and the Legendary Sannin, and blustering idiots who made complete asses of themselves, and determined underdogs who managed to overturn the odds through sheer grit and force of will.

Idly, thinking of what Kakashi had told him about Team Seven, the Lord Third wondered which category Naruto and his friends would fall into.

He smiled, then, and scrawled his signature across the dotted line of another requisition form.

This would be a very interesting exam.

Kakashi watched, only mildly bemused, as his genin ran through the teamwork exercises he'd assigned them. Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto moved in perfect synchronization, more like a single organism than three young soldiers.

By this point, Kakashi was in no position to claim that this surprised him. Whatever their relations to one another had been in the academy, these three had quite clearly cast aside their differences. They worked together flawlessly, pulling off even the trickiest of maneuvers without so much as a hitch.

It was like watching the gears of a grandfather clock in motion. Not a finger moved without purpose, and every step they took carried the whole squad forward. Team Seven in action was a thing of beauty.

It was more than a tad surreal, to be honest. Most seasoned jounin couldn't do even half the things these kids did. The little buggers were impossibly skilled.

Were Kakashi a more paranoid sort, he might think they'd been replaced by weirdly incompetent infiltrators – ridiculously powerful spies who couldn't even get their character down right. But Sasuke had the sharingan (mangekyo, the Lord Third had called it), and Naruto definitely still had the kyuubi in his belly (Kakashi'd had a Hyuuga sealmaster confirm this for him, just in case). And for all her sudden and inexplicable leaps in strength and skill, Sakura seemed no more likely to be a spy than Naruto or Sasuke.

No infiltrator good enough to replace a jinchuuriki or a bloodline clan heir would be so stupid as to exhibit skills so blatantly beyond the grasp of the people they were supposed to be impersonating. Nay, as unbelievable as it seemed, somehow Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura had honestly, genuinely grown more in the course of a few nights than most shinobi grew over their entire lifetimes.

It was like Hokage-sama had told him.

"Naruto, of course, has access to the Nine-Tailed Fox's chakra, as I'm sure you are well aware," the Sandaime intoned, seated across from Kakashi in the former's study. "He is the Lord Fourth Hokage's son, heir and successor of Kushina Uzumaki. Even if, up until this point, he has seemingly squandered his talents on chicanery and jests, I still do not doubt that he has the makings of an excellent shinobi."

Kakashi nodded, accepting this well enough. "Aside from his arsenal of perverted prank jutsu, Naruto has demonstrated a firm grasp of several highly diverse ninja arts in the weeks since I began training Team Seven. Much better than someone who was bottom of his class should have."

"Minato was a physical learner as well," the Sandaime remarked. "Although he also scored well in theory, it was undeniably in practical exercises where he truly excelled."

Kakashi hummed, glancing thoughtfully at a spot on the wall.

"That makes sense, I suppose," he mused. "Sasuke has obviously been giving him and Sakura pointers. Especially Sakura..."

"I hear those two have grown quite close," Hiruzen commented shrewdly. Something like a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Kakashi nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I haven't got the whole story, of course, but she and Naruto were probably there when Sasuke lost his arm..."

The Sandaime nodded, as though this were entirely sensible to him.

"Has he confided in you with any details of the accident?" the old shinobi inquired.

Kakashi shook his head. "No, but it's obvious that those two know more than Sasuke's telling. All things considered, I think the three of them must have been training together for the bell test. There was probably an accident with a new technique he was trying to learn, or else he and Naruto got a little too feisty while sparring..."

Hiruzen nodded, hands folded under his chin. Dark eyes glinted thoughtfully.

"It is not outside the realm of belief," he said, his words carefully measured. "If anything, that would explain the sudden evolution of young Sasuke's eyes..."

Kakashi frowned. He felt a dry itch in Obito's eye at the mention of Sasuke's mangekyo sharingan.

"He probably awakened it in the aftermath of the massacre, considering what you've told me about how the Uchiha's doujutsu works," he said slowly, thoughtfully.

The Sandaime nodded.

"Right," he said. "I do not doubt that such a magnitude of survivor's guilt would be sufficient to activate the mangekyo. Nor is it unbelievable that the emotional turmoil resulting from that tragedy might have subsequently locked away those very eyes..."

His words hung in the air, curiously heavy. Kakashi felt a little vaguely foolish over all this baseless conjecture, but Sasuke did not give him much to work with as far as the truth.

"And the shock of losing a limb probably broke through his mental block, right?" he guessed, meeting the hokage's eye.

"That is the most probable explanation," Hiruzen said with a nod. "And more than likely it also unlocked some deeply repressed memories from that night..."

The elderly shinobi frowned almost imperceptibly. He furrowed his brow, and hummed quietly in his throat. His lips tightened into a thin line, and he met Kakashi's eye.

"You are certain he has not demonstrated any signs of emotional instability?"

Kakashi shrugged, feeling rather at a loss.

"Honestly? First impressions aside, he actually seems to be remarkably well-adjusted." His one eye narrowed. "And I don't mean just superficially, either. His relationship with Naruto and Sakura appears stable and healthy, and he hasn't exhibited any particular fixation on revenge since his introduction."

The Third Hokage's expression was unreadable.

"Hmm... he doesn't, does he?" the man whispered. "Curious... good for him, of course, but still... curious."

"Do you think this is something to worry about, Hokage-sama...?" Kakashi said, noticing a faintly concerned tone in the elderly ninja's voice. "If this is a byproduct of the mangekyo..."

Hiruzen shook his head.

"The kaleidoscopic mirror-wheel comes about with a hormonal metamorphosis," he said, "triggered by a certain chemical cocktail released when a sharingan-wielder undergoes a considerable emotional trauma."

The Lord Third exhaled a cloud of smoke, pausing thoughtfully.

"Among the more troublesome side effects of this transformation is an increased flow of chakra through specific parts of the brain – such as the amygdala, hypothalamus, and hippocampus," he continued. "Over time this causes gradual enlargement of those regions, resulting in unpredictable moodswings and a marked increase of aggressive tendencies."

The Professor hummed, meeting Kakashi's eye.

"So, if anything, I would have expected awakening the mangekyo to greatly strengthen young Sasuke's desire for vengeance. That he should seem less fixated on revenge now than he was before awakening those eyes is very curious..." He trailed off for a moment, staring thoughtfully into the distance, before shaking his head and muttering. "...It is potentially fortuitous, to be certain... but still highly unusual."

Thinking back on that discussion, Kakashi got the distinct impression that the Sandaime had known more than he said. He did not question it, though.

They were ninja, after all. Secrets were their bread and butter.

Besides, if it was really important for him to know, Kakashi had faith that the Sandaime would see fit to tell him.

The young members of Team Seven were certainly inexplicably skilled, and they acted strangely at times, but the odds of them being spies or plants were infinitesimal, and the chances of them having been getting lessons from outsiders or other suspicious persons were similarly minute.

So for now, at least, Kakashi could give them the benefit of a doubt.

(Naruto's sexy jutsu was very compelling)

Chapter Text

Time passed without much of note happening, despite everything. Team Seven's laissez-faire attitude towards their presence in the past had raised some eyebrows amongst those who didn't know the truth of the situation (which was everyone but them and Hinata), but not much of importance had really changed. Mostly it was little things, like Naruto playing more frequently with Konohamaru and friends, and Sakura introducing Sasuke to her parents.

Despite them both being physically twelve, said introduction was still infinitely less awkward than the last time Sakura had brought her teammate-turned-enemy-turned-teammate-turned-boyfriend-turned-husband-turned-teammate-turned-boyfried home for the first time. Less complicated, too.

And of course, Naruto took no small delight in molding the once-more malleable minds of Udon and Moegi. Konohamaru may have been his faithful protégé even as an adult, but Ebisu had regretfully gotten to the boy's teammates and made them dreadfully ordinary. The grown up Udon and Moegi had been two of the most boring people Naruto knew.

(The less said about the Hyuuga, the better)

"Last one to Ichiraku's is a loser!" the former Lord Seventh Hokage jeered, cackling as he shot down the street.

"No fair, boss, wait for us!"

"Ah, Naruto-niichan! Hold up!"

"Heeeey! You cheater! Don't go so fast!"

The Konohamaru Corps chased after their boss/idol, Naruto Uzumaki, following him through the streets of Konoha. Huffing and puffing as they tried to keep up with the faster, seemingly inexhaustible blond, Konohamaru and friends made quite a sight with their ruddy faces screwed up in concentration.

Naruto beamed as he led the young academy students up and down the streets, laughing and whooping as he darted nimbly around pedestrians. He kept a steady pace three strides ahead of the trio at all times, leading the kids on a merry chase through the village.

"Don't be sore losers, now!" Naruto cheerfully called over his shoulder. "Hahaha! Just run, run, run as fast as you can! Maybe you'll even catch up, if you're lucky!"

He peered over his shoulder just in time to see a redfaced Konohamaru reply to this statement with a very rude hand gesture.

Naruto laughed.

"Is that all you've got? Hurry up, hurry up! I haven't even gotten warmed up!" he chortled, striking a very theatrical pose (while continuing to run, which produced a fairly comical effect).

Moegi giggled in spite of herself, and Udon joined in with a half-delirious guffaw.

Konohamaru defiantly shook his fist at Naruto.

The blond laughed even more gaily than before, and spun fluidly around a black-clad young man, slipping between him and his pretty blonde companion. Without missing a beat, he was behind the pair and continuing on down the street.

...at least, he was until he heard a boyish 'Oof!', and a distantly familiar annoyed grunt.

"Hey, twerp, watch where you're going! That hurt, y'know?"

Oh, Kankuro. Still just as terrible with kids as ever. And still somehow just as good as getting the drop on Naruto, too.

"Ack! Let go of me, you big jerk!"

Naruto turned around, mildly bemused. Was it really starting already? He glanced curiously between Temari and Kankuro, looking at their backs.

This statement did not include Temari's ass to any exceptional degree. Naruto could, as Jiraiya's former apprentice, appreciate beautiful young women, but fifteen years old was toeing the line of too young for his tastes.

(He made a conscious exception for Hinata, because she was his wife, and he loved her no matter WHAT she looked like)

"Konohamaru!" Moegi squealed, dismayed, breaking Naruto out of his musings.

"Oh dear, oh dear..." Udon whimpered, trembling worriedly at the sight of this intimidating foreigner lifting their friend and ringleader by the collar.

Kankuro sneered, and tightened his grip.

"Konohamaru, huh?" he drawled. "Is that your name, twerp? Heh, talk about uninspired. You Konoha pansies..."

Temari scowled, impatiently side-eyeing her middle brother.

"Don't waste your time on this brat, Kankuro," she said coolly, evenly. "It wouldn't be worth the trouble."

Kankuro rolled his eyes.

"Who cares? I'm just gonna teach the punk to watch where he's going," he said dismissively. "You could say I'm doing him a favor, really. It's a very valuable life lesson."

Konohamaru swung his legs mutinously. Had his captor been a little less astute, the lad might have scored a hit on the older boy's shin. Kankuro was nothing if not prudent, however, and he deftly evaded the lad's flailing.

"Let — me — GO!" Konohamaru snarled, thrashing angrily but ineffectively.

His increased resistance seemed to rile up Moegi and Udon, who clenched their fists and advanced on the much larger Kankuro. Temari sighed and inched away from her brother, looking like she had no patience for this stupid macho posturing.

Kankuro snorted, and curled his free hand into a fist.

"You should be more respectful to your elders," he sneered, bringing his knuckles up in a blur.

Naruto caught Kankuro's first before it even came close to touching Konohamaru, appearing beside Kankuro faster than you could say "Holy shit where'd he come from?!"

The Kazekage's middle child blinked. His head swiveled to the side, and he stared confusedly at this spiky-haired blond interloper. Konohamaru slowed his wriggling, and a smirk came onto his face.

"Hah! You're in for it NOW, you big jerk!" he crowed. "Naruto-niichan is gonna kick your ass!"

Temari choked back a laugh at the gobsmacked expression on her brother's face.

Naruto smiled innocently.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean by that, Konohamaru," he said loftily. "After all, it's not like a foreign shinobi visiting Konoha for the chuunin exams would ever be stupid enough to try and do anything to the Sandaime's grandson."

His innocent smile widened, and Kankuro blinked twice more. The young puppet master went visibly white under his kabuki facepaint.

"Eh?" he squeaked. "The Sandaime's...?"

He trailed off, staring at Konohamaru in slowly dawning horror.

Temari now looked neither bored nor amused – if anything, she seemed the slightest touch frightened underneath the angry look she shot at her brother.

"Kankuro..." she growled warningly. "I told you..."

Now Kankuro went puce, and he dropped Konohamaru like a hot potato.

"Ahaha... now, now, I know what this might look like," he said, his voice cracking, "but it's perfectly innocent, honest!"

Naruto smiled.

"I'm sure it is," he said sweetly. "Just like I'm sure your teammates won't kill you in your sleep for almost getting them kicked out of the village before the exams could even start."

Kankuro paled once more, and Temari fingered the fan strapped to her back with a vicious grin on her face.

Naruto then looked up into the branches of a nearby tree. He grinned brightly.

"Hey, Gaara," he said to the gourd-bearing redhead. "Wanna join me at Ichiraku's for some ramen later? You can bring your team along too, if you want."

He waved, beaming at his fellow jinchuuriki.

Konohamaru, Moegi, and Udon ooh'ed and ahh'ed at Naruto's ability to detect the third foreigner hidden from sight. Temari and Kankuro stared in horrified disbelief at the apparently suicidal blond.

Gaara blinked owlishly, surprised.

"I nominate Team Seven."

The hokage's office fell into a heavy silence following these words. Kakashi Hatake stood at attention in a manner that nonetheless bespoke a deceptive laziness, a kind of disinterested insolence that very few people could pull off, to say nothing of actually getting away with it.

All around him, his fellow jounin expressed their surprise at their colleague's choice to nominate a rookie squad for chuunin examination. The Sandaime had only just finished officially announcing the Chuunin Exams, and already Kakashi was suggesting that his team should take it.

For those who hadn't heard about Team Seven's uncannily exceptional performance on missions, it beggared belief that the Copy Ninja could seriously have such a skewed perspective as to nominate his squad for the exams without even the tiniest sign of hesitation.

...then, a moment later, Kurenai Yuuhi stepped forward and nominated Team Eight, looking perfectly confident in her students' abilities. And not to be outdone, Asuma Sarutobi stepped forward immediately after her and put forth his Team Ten for consideration as well.

It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop (and Genma looked very sheepish as he picked his senbon back up off the floor, although his jaw was still visibly slack). Not an eye in the house wasn't staring at Kakashi, Kurenai, and Asuma, whether simply gobsmacked and blatantly disbelieving, or else trying in vain to puzzle out their motives.

Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, curiously eyeing the three young jounin leaders. His glance was hooded, his face an unreadable stony mask, and if his eyes lingered a second longer on his son than on the others, then nobody was saying anything.

"Do you, now?" he said, the gravely rasp of his voice cutting through the silence. He folded his hands, humming thoughtfully. "I must say, this is highly unusual. Not one, or even two, but three rookie squads?" He narrowed his eyes. "Are you all quite sure of this? These exams are nothing to sneeze at, as you should well know."

Kakashi scoffed.

"With all due respect, Hokage-sama, I'd be nominating them for jounin consideration if you hadn't already told me that they need to pass the chuunin exams first," he said. "Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are ready for promotion. More than ready."

Asuma rolled his eyes at this.

"I never would've pegged you for the sentimental sort, Kakashi," he drawled, shaking his head. "But as for my team, I honestly think it would be a good learning experience for 'em. Ought to be a good kick in the pants for those slackers," he said wryly, a hint of fondness in his tone. "And I reckon at least one of them might actually make the cut, to be perfectly honest..."

Kurenai afforded a smirk at this remark, her eyes gleaming amusedly.

"Team Eight has really come into its own as well," she said, all but swelling up with pride. "Hinata in particular has demonstrated exceptional maturity and leadership qualities. She's set an excellent example for her teammates, and all three have helped each other grow a good deal."

Well, mostly it had been Hinata helping Shino and Kiba grow, but Kurenai didn't feel any particular need to give away too much of her prize pupil's talent. It wouldn't do to scare off the competition, after all.

Hiruzen took a drag of his pipe, and he cast his gaze over the three jounin sensei. He saw a mixture of pride, confidence, and stubborn determination in each of them. It almost reminded him of his own sensei's eyes, when the man had first confronted the other kage with the idea of the Chuunin Exams, all but outright challenging them to send their best and brightest ninja to try and discredit him and his pupils.

Resisting the urge to smile at the swell of nostalgia, the Sandaime slowly nodded. He exhaled, smoke billowing from his lips, and closed his eyes.

"Well, then," he said. "If you three are that confident in your team's chances—"

Iruka sputtered, unable to hold back his disbelief any longer.

"This is preposterous!" he protested, pointing at the three jounin. "You can't honestly be saying you think they're seriously ready to take on the chuunin exams?!"

"Of course they are," Kakashi said dismissively. Kurenai and Asuma nodded in general agreement.

Iruka turned a very interesting shade of red.

"You're pushing them too far!" he exclaimed. "Times are different now than they were when you three were young! Those kids may be your genin, but they're still my students—!"

Hiruzen resisted the urge to sigh as the argument unfolded, Iruka Umino's words coming narrowly close to insubordination. If it weren't for Guy stepping forward in agreement with Iruka's stance, things might have gotten ugly (and Kakashi did NOT pull his punches, whether fighting or debating).

Under other circumstances, Hiruzen may have been inclined to agree with Iruka, but these nine rookies were all exceptional prospects. Even the least remarkable among their number showed a fair deal of talent and cunning.

Iruka was a good man, to be sure, but that wasn't always the most desirable trait in shinobi. It didn't help that this was his first graduating class, either. Iruka was naturally very attached to these kids, and would of course be inclined to have them... well, some might call the man's approach coddling, but Hiruzen had a soft spot for children himself.

Kakashi, however, did not appear to agree.

"They're not your students anymore, Iruka," the Copy Ninja finished coolly, with a steely edge to his words. "They are soldiers under my command."

With that verbal slap in the face, Kakashi turned and walked away. Iruka stared as the man went, visibly cringing from those words.

Asuma winced, and he muttered "Ouch. Low blow," under his breath. Kurenai gave Iruka a sympathetic smile.

"Well, he was a bit harsh in how he said it..." she said, "...but the gist of it isn't necessarily inaccurate. Besides, I know my team has improved by leaps and bounds since graduating. You shouldn't underestimate those former students of yours, or they might just end up surpassing!"

Iruka chuckled weakly, and returned the smile with a slow nod.

"Y-Yeah, thanks..." he said. "He's right, of course. Haha, I guess I'm just a little upset to see them growing up so fast..."

Kurenai gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, before turning back to sidle up next to Asuma as other jounin sensei proceeded to nominate their own teams for the exams.

Shino was a quiet sort of fellow. Even when spoken to, he did not talk unless he felt like he had something of genuine importance to say, and he was never needlessly loud; he did not yell or shout or holler. He was subtler than that. When Shino wanted to make himself heard, he simply spoke his mind. If the people he was talking to had any sense, then they would listen to what he had to say. If they didn't, then they clearly weren't worth the trouble.

That's what his father had taught him, anyways. Subtlety and silence were hallmarks of the shinobi – no ninja worth his salt would go off screaming at the top of his lungs. Speak softly yet firmly, and never about trivial matters. People who could be swayed by loud voices and meaningless chatter were not worth a true shinobi's time: that's what he had learned from his father.

Kiba was an idiot, impulsive and obnoxious, and far too quick to anger over little and meaningless things. The hound user practically defaulted to violence as the only worthwhile method of problem solving, and he pretty used his head only as far as physically bashing it against the nearest obstacle. He was loud and fickle and impulsive, the very antithesis of everything Shino had been taught to value in a ninja.

...however, Kiba was also fiercely loyal, as quick to make friends as enemies. He had not been put off by the Aburame hiden like most would have been – rather, he thought it was "wicked", which he would say with a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

Shino had never before encountered someone who could earnestly call his kikaichuu colony cool.

It was a rather nice feeling, in all honesty. Kiba was probably the first real friend Shino had ever had outside his own clan. Despite their differences, he and Kiba were fast and true, and as thick as thieves. They butted heads plenty, in their own little ways, but at the end of the day both the Aburame and the Inuzuka highly valued camaraderie. Even if their ideas of it were as different as night and day, loyalty was still something that both prized above all else.

Under other circumstances, Shino supposed that he and Kiba might have been at odds more often than not. Had Hinata not stepped so brilliantly into the position, the two males might have spent a lot of their time both subtly and overtly vying for the spot of team leader. But as it was, Hinata had assumed the role, and she did a magnificent job of it, too. She seemed like a real natural, and neither Kiba or Shino had any problems with deferring to her.

It was funny, in a way, that a girl who had seemed so quiet and reserved in the academy would wind up the distinct superior of someone as competitive and stubborn as Kiba, but Hinata really didn't need to be boastful or aggressive. She led with a soft touch, letting them think as often as not that they were acting of their own initiative when they did as she asked. She indulged them when it was convenient, and kept them in line with carefully chosen compliments and critiques.

She pulled their strings like a puppet master working her marionettes, and most scarily of all she did it so warmly and kindly that neither of them could find any fault with it. Even the willful, bullheaded Kiba saw nothing wrong with doing what Hinata asked of him.

Shino supposed that the Inuzuka probably had a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Not that he could criticize this. He himself felt rather quietly giddy whenever he could sneak a covert glance at Kurenai-sensei, and perhaps intentionally messed up his kata once or twice just so she would correct him. This was only natural, of course. She was a very lovely, very mature woman appointed with teaching and guiding them, and Shino was at that early, pleasantly confusing stage of puberty where he was just starting to really enjoy being around the opposite sex.

However, he also knew that Kurenai and Hinata were each interested in someone else, and that it was very unlikely either of them would ever give him or Kiba the time of day. And Shino was okay with that.

Kiba may have been in denial, though.

"Yeah, I think we're definitely gonna breeze right through this," the tattooed lad quietly boasted as they strolled up to the third floor of the academy. "Those other losers don't stand a chance against me and Akamaru!"

He grinned at Hinata, who smiled indulgently and nodded.

"If you say so, Kiba-kun," she said politely. She spoke his name fondly, like that of a good friend or a close sibling. Kiba may have misinterpreted this.

"You won't even need to get your hands dirty, Hinata," he said, grinning cockily. "I bet there's not a person here who could take me on in a fight!"

This declaration earned Kiba a dirty look from a few of the other genin teams climbing the stairs, but he didn't seem to notice. He was strutting self-assuredly to the testing area, confident that Team Eight would pass these exams with flying colors.

Hinata giggled at the sight of Kiba with his chest puffed out. He beamed, apparently taking this as a mark of approval.

Shino quietly followed his teammates to the testing area, corrugating his brow in thought. Kiba's confidence was not particularly contagious in this instance. Frowning beneath his coat collar, the young Aburame pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose.

He shot a warning look at his male teammate.

"You shouldn't get too cocky," he cautioned. "These exams will be attracting genin from all across the continent, and many of them will be far more experienced than ourselves. Age and cunning can easily triumph over youth and skill."

Kiba scoffed.

"Don't be such a worrywart, Shino! They aren't the only ones with tricks up their sleeves." He grinned toothily.

Hinata smiled, looking between her two teammates.

"Indeed they are not," she agreed. "You two are very skilled for your age."

Shino and Kiba looked at her.

"Hah!" the latter guffawed. "If we're skilled, then you're a damn genius."

Shino nodded. "You're easily the strongest member of this team," he said. "We know this because we've seen you in action."

Kiba blushed.

"Yeah..." he said, scratching his cheek. "You've done some damn good work. Y'know, with your kata and training and all."

"You two have improved markedly more than I have," Hinata said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "My own skills are..."

She shrugged, trailing off. The '...a result of actually being ten years older than both of you put together' went unsaid, and her true meaning passed right over Kiba and Shino's heads. As far as they knew, she was just being modest.

They couldn't possibly appreciate that, out of the four people to have come back in time, Hinata Uzumaki née Hyuuga was actually the least powerful. She was just skilled by the standards of ordinary humans. Compared to monsters like Naruto and Sasuke...

...well, Hinata was just as good as an elite jounin, maybe on par with some of the lower tier kage. In contrast, Sakura was pretty much second in power only to her teammates; theoretically, the pinkette was good enough to go toe-to-toe with Hashirama or Madara at the top of their game.

"Excuse me, miss, but what might your name be?"

Well, speak of the devil.

Team Eight came onto into an open area, a landing between stairwells.

They were not the only ones there.

"Sakura...? Oh! A most beautiful name for a most beautiful maiden!" A bowl-cut, black-haired youth in tight green spandex struck a pose that might have been cool two generations prior, standing before the members of Team Seven. "Please, Sakura-san!" he exclaimed. "Will you not go out with me? I swear, I will protect you with my life!"

Naruto snorted, and Sasuke ground his teeth. Shino quirked a single eyebrow, and Kiba glowered at Hinata's other friends. Team Eight went unnoticed by the trio, who were focused understandably on the green-clad lad.

Kiba skulked sulkingly up the stairs, clearly not in the mood for a meeting with Team Seven right now. Shino followed him, only mildly interested in the romantic dramedy proceeding below them.

Hinata lingered behind for only a moment, before turning to follow her teammates up to the third floor. She blew a kiss to Naruto, who looked over his shoulder and silently smiled at her.

And so now we join Team Seven in media res.

Sakura tittered and curtseyed, smiling kindly at the athletic older boy. She did not give any indication of having noticed Hinata and friends passing on through, smiling politely at Rock Lee (for this was, of course, who addressed her).

"Oh, my! You flatter me, Lee-kun," she said. "But I'm afraid to say that I am already spoken for. You have my apologies." A twinkle came into her eye, the glittering mischief of a precocious matchmaker as she stood back up from her curtsey. "Perhaps you should try looking a little closer to home?" she suggested, thinking of a certain teammate of his.

Lee cocked his head to one side, staring at Sakura uncomprehendingly.

"You are... spoken for, already?" he said, sounding miserably disappointed.

Sakura's smile softened, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the poor, impressionable lad. He couldn't really help being such a sucker for a pretty face.

(And Sakura was very pretty, in her personal opinion, so Lee could hardly help himself!)

"I'm sorry," she told him, smiling sincerely. "You seem like a very nice guy, and I'm sure there's a girl somewhere out there who would be glad to have you. Maybe even someone you already know?" she suggested again, thinking of a certain brunette.

Sasuke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sakura had been insisting for years that Lee and Tenten could make a perfect couple, and nothing he said could dissuade her from this notion. She was very stubborn when it came to matters of romance, and Naruto did not help things on that front, either. If anything, the blond had taken to egging Sakura on, and encouraging her more troublesome matchmaking proclivities.

Sasuke himself could not give less of a damn about other people's sex lives, but Naruto and Sakura were always hatching harebrained schemes to pair off their friends and acquaintances. At least two marriages had come about as a direct result of their machinations – Chouji and Karui, and Kiba and Tamaki – plus a number of brief flings and one-night stands.

He could still remember their rather disastrous go at hooking up Shino with Kiba's sister; by the time the dust had settled, nearly thirty people were in need of hospitalization, and several million ryo in property damage had been done.

And that was just the first date.

Sasuke fought down a shudder, and decided that it would be in everyone's best interests for him to intervene NOW. For every happy couple to result from Naruto and Sakura's compulsive matchmaking, there were a half dozen explosive break ups, and more than a few strongly worded restraining orders.

He was not in the mood to see what kind of drama could erupt from a self-destructed LeeTen relationship.

"Lee," the Uchiha heir growled the taijutsu specialist's name. "Weren't you going to challenge me to a spar?"

Lee blinked. He frowned, and turned to stare at Sasuke.

"Was I?" he said confusedly, looking a touch skeptical as he glanced down at Sasuke's missing arm. A frown tilted his eyebrows, curling his lips downward. "Hm, I don't know..."

"Of course you were," Sasuke said flippantly. "Why else would you come seek us out?"

"Maybe he wanted to challenge me," Naruto interjected, a glimmer of laughter in his eyes. "I'd like to think my reputation really precedes me these days."

Sakura snorted, a most unladylike noise.

"Yeah, right," she said. "The only reputation you have is as a class clown."

"And I am hilarious," he said with a grin.

"Hilariously full of yourself, maybe," Sasuke said, rolling his eyes.

Naruto scoffed. "Oh, please. Like you're one to talk."

Sakura smirked, and wrapped an arm around the raven-haired Uchiha's waist.

"I wouldn't mind being full of you, dear," she purred into Sasuke's ear, giving him an all-too-suggestive wink.

Lee went beet red, and averted his gaze anxiously away. Sasuke, for his part, shivered and smiled weakly at his once and future wife.

Naruto rolled his eyes.

"I think that's what most girls our age would say," he quipped. "If, y'know, they had the guts."

Sasuke made a face. "I don't know," he muttered. "Some of those fangirls were pretty forward, last time around... and that's before even counting the likes of Karin."

Naruto looked momentarily confused at this statement.

"Maaan, really?" he said thoughtfully, too low for Lee to hear. "Damn, I'd almost forgotten... by the time I got to know her, she and Suigetsu were pretty much already an item."

"It's surreal, isn't it?" Sakura whispered in agreement, softly giggling. "To think that dumpy, mothering housewife used to be one of Sasuke-kun's most aggressive fangirls..."

"She mellowed out a lot after the first few kids," said Sasuke with a nod of agreement. "Thank god."

Sakura nodded, and tightened her arm around Sasuke's waist. With a playful grin, she leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"How many was she on?" she wondered meaningfully. "I can't seem to recall."

"Last I heard, she and Suigetsu were trying for a seventh," Sasuke said, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "Lord only knows how she kept all those brats fed."

"She always wanted a big family, though," Naruto interjected. "Or so she told me, at least."

"Yeah, I think she said something similar to me, too," Sakura nodded. "And I suppose Suigetsu could make a decent amount of money with his mercenary work."

"He participated in lots of medical experiments, too, I understand," Naruto added.

"Really?" Sasuke cocked an eyebrow. "That's a surprise to me."

The blond shrugged. "He said it was nostalgic."

Sakura pulled a face.

"That is so weird."

"I know, right?"

"Always knew that guy was messed up."

Sasuke snorted back a laugh.

Lee was at a loss for words as he watched Team Seven carry on talking. He stared, rooted in place by an awkward mix of indecision and politeness, as the trio turned to continue up the stairs, seemingly forgetting him completely.

He blinked owlishly.

"...I wonder what Sakura-san meant by 'someone closer to home'?" he quietly puzzled. "Hm. Perhaps I should ask Tenten? Maybe she'll know something about it."

As Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto disappeared up the stairs, Lee turned and left to look for his own teammates.

"They are both girls, after all..."

Tensions in the waiting room were dreadfully high. Genin squads crowded every inch of the room, many of the older ones surly and antsy and just itching to see some blood. Ninja from all over the continent were there, representatives from villages as far-flung as Suna and Ame, eager to bust some heads and prove their worth.

Most of these genin were a fair deal older and more experienced than the Rookie Nine – even Team Guy had only been in active duty for a year and change, to say nothing of cells Seven, Eight, and Ten. But most of the other competitors were hardened, battle-tested shinobi, and almost none of them had any patience for little children.

Ino Yamanka did not seem aware of this, as she scanned the room for her crush. She was standing with her teammates, Shikamaru and Chouji, not too far from the entrance. Pale blue eyes flicked sharply over the crowd, clear and penetrating as they searched for Sasuke Uchiha.

A civilian might have been unnerved by Ino's eyes, with their unnaturally pale blue irises, flat and ghostly, devoid of pupils. If eyes were the window to the soul, then young Ino looked like a woman possessed.

Shikamaru would have considered this an accurate descriptor, at least whenever she got started on Sasuke-kun.

"He's not here yet," the shadow-user drawled, leaning boredly against a nearby wall. "We would've noticed him by now if he'd gotten here before us, and we've seen everyone who has come through that door since we arrived."

Ino shot Shikamaru a dark look, narrowing her eyes and curling her lip. She fidgeted anxiously, clearly overcome with nervous energy.

"I don't need your snark, Shikamaru!" she sniped, flicking her gaze over to the door. "Just keep your eyes open. I don't want to miss him."

Chouji shrugged, looking over his shoulder at some of the other teams in the room.

"Who's to say they'll be coming? Maybe their sensei doesn't think they're ready for these exams yet," he suggested.

Shikamaru sighed.

"As much as I wish that was the case, Chouji," he muttered, "if only so Ino would settle down and quit looking for him, we know they'll be here. Asuma told us that Kakashi was the first one to nominate his squad, remember?"

Chouji got a thoughtful expression on his face, and he slowly nodded his head.

"Oh yeah, that's right," he said. "I'd nearly forgotten about that." He cocked his head, looking askance at one of the other Konoha teams. "Huh. I dunno, then. Maybe one of them didn't feel up to taking the exams? Asuma-sensei told us it was an all or nothing sort of deal – y'know, that you need to be in a team of three to participate."

"Sasuke-kun is more than ready for these exams!" Ino hissed, giving Chouji the evil eye. She took a deep breath, slowly shaking her head. "He was never the sort to back down from a challenge, back when we were all at the academy. I don't see why he would feel the need to start now."

"And Naruto's too dense to even consider that the Chuunin Exams might be too much for him," Shikamaru drawled, eliciting a nostalgic chuckle from Chouji. "He's not the brightest, or the strongest, or the most skilled, but that moron's as stubborn as all get out."

Ino frowned, her expression darkening.

"You don't think Sakura would choose to hold Sasuke-kun back, do you?" she said. "I know those two have been getting close, but if she thinks I'll forgive her for something like that..." She clenched her fists, and her eyes flashed.

Shikamaru sighed, and he rolled his eyes.

Women, he thought ruefully. Whether they're young or old, they're all just as much of a pain in my ass...

Ino shot him a sour look, guessing well enough what her teammate was thinking.

"Don't you start, Shikamaru," she said warningly. "You're not any better!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied blandly. "I didn't say a word."

"You were thinking it," she growled. "I know what you're like."

Chouji chuckled goodnaturedly, and reclined against the wall.

The door opened.

Kiba Inuzuka strutted cockily into the room, followed shortly by Shino and Hinata.

Then he took one look around the room, and his self-assured demeanor promptly deflated, punctured by the weight of several dozen cold, assessing glares.

"...hot damn, are all of these guys seriously genin...?" he mumbled, suddenly looking much less certain of acing the exam.

"Yes, probably," said Hinata calmly, sparing a reassuring smile for her teammate.

Kiba reciprocated only weakly, looking now like he wanted nothing more than for everyone's scrutiny to fall on someone else.

Nobody seemed to notice Shino.

Chapter Text

Kabuto Yakushi was cool and collected as he scanned over the assembled genin. Team Seven walked in through the door, and as expected their arrival caused quite a stir. The trio thumbed their noses at everyone in the room, all but outright saying that they would personally kick every single one of their asses.

This, of course, did not go over well with the other assembled genin. Black glares like leaden weights fell on Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, each of whom acted perfectly unperturbed by the icy looks they were receiving. If anything, they seemed almost amused by this attempted intimidation.

It was exactly the opening Kabuto had been waiting for. He walked up to the nine rookie genin, mentally getting into character as he approached. Outwardly, he projected a harmless, friendly air which could let him get close to his targets without raising any suspicions. He radiated an aura of inoffensive normalcy that enabled him to slip under the radar with ease.

Nobody paid any attention to Kabuto, because he wasn't anyone worth taking note of.

That was the most important skill for a spy. Being able to blend into any crowd with minimal effort was a very rare gift – most people had tells that gave it away when they were trying to keep a secret, got anxious or tense in high stress situations. But Kabuto could go behind enemy lines with a disarming smile plastered on his face, make nice with people who would kill him in an instant if they knew his true motives, act perfectly ordinary and unremarkable.

Some people thought of spies as people dressed all in black, fighting off hordes of enemies and running across rooftops under the cover of night. And while Kabuto had done such things once or twice, the mark of a truly good spy was the ability to have yourself seen but not scrutinized, to register in people's minds as nothing unusual or suspicious. You had to act like you belonged wherever you were.

Kabuto was a master of the mundane and banal. He could smile and chat about meaningless things, lead a conversation wherever he wished, and have no one be any the wiser. That was just how good he was.

Getting the trust of some rank genin would be no problem for a spy of his skill. He could give them some harmless advice, dazzle them with his knowledge, while still emphasizing his clusminess and ineptitude. The best spy was the man nobody looked at twice, and Kabuto was a master of going overlooked.

There was no reason to think his cover could be blown by these greenhorn brats. His mission in the Leaf was nearing its end, and soon enough he would be more use to Lord Orochimaru outside of the village. Once the invasion was carried out, there would be no more need for him to stay undercover in Konoha.

The ninja info cards he showed those Ino-Shika-Cho brats were nothing extraordinary by his standards. It was a mere parlor trick that could be pulled off by any sufficiently astute genin, and Kabuto did not put any of the truly valuable intel on those things. Any ninja cryptanalyst worth their salt would be able to work around his chakra encryption – anyone who got suspicious of him and tried to search those cards for sensitive information would find only data which could have been reasonably gathered through hearsay and rumors.

Kabuto was cautious. He kept most of his best cards up his sleeves, hiding a couple aces even from Orochimaru. He showed only what he wanted people to say, played the folks around him like a fiddle, and guilelessly leaked top secret intelligence to the single most dangerous rogue-nin on the planet.

Akatsuki may have had more powerful shinobi, but none of them could rival Orochimaru's duplicitous cunning. He was the snake in the grass, waiting hidden in plain sight, patiently learning and plotting as he calculated the best moment to bare his fangs and strike. Orochimaru was clever and unscrupulous, willing and able to play a much longer game than anyone else.

Kabuto learned espionage from the master of lies, a man who spoke with a forked silver tongue. He could deceive the most canny man alive, and walk away without an ounce of suspicion attached to himself. Even if caught all but redhanded, he could smoothly and spotlessly bullshit his way out trouble.

He had been in the spy business from a young age, and had been considered so good at what he did that he was just too dangerous to be left alive. He lived his life in a web of lies and half-truths so tangled that nobody alive knew so much as even his true name. He was a weapon created by the machinations of the shinobi world, a man with no past and no name, a cursed Muramasa which had turned upon its former masters, forged in deceit and tempered in treachery, bathed in blood and shadow.

He was a ninja in the most classical sense, a spy in plain sight, and a killer none would suspect. He thumbed his nose at the likes of Danzo "Shinobi no Yami" Shimura and walked a razor's edge under the scrutinizing gaze of Lord Orochimaru. To even suggest he would slip up in the presence of mere children would be laughable.

The kids didn't suspect him, no. He lied to their faces, endearing himself to them with a harmless demeanor and unassuming grin. He played his role to the letter, and they danced on his strings without a hint of deviation. Word for word, his meeting with them went exactly as he had planned.

He did not make any mistakes. He did everything he set out to do in approaching them, convincing the genin of teams Seven, Eight, and Ten that he was their friend, and meant only to help them. Even young genius Shikamaru clearly suspected nothing: they saw only what Kabuto wanted them to.

...or so he had thought. So he had planned it out in his head.

But the moment he brought out his ninja info cards, Sasuke snorted and called them "a cute trick," while Sakura shamelessly snatched them from his hand, asking if he had any cards about her.

Kabuto could only blink owlishly at his now-empty hands. He stared at his palms for a second, before whipping his head up to watch the pinkette effortlessly reveal the contents of his ninja info cards. And while this was no great feat, it still irked him a little to see someone as inexperienced as her treat his chakra encryption like it wasn't even so much as a mild inconvenience.

He bit back a scowl as Sakura sorted through his cards and Sasuke gently pushed a very clingy Yamanaka heiress off of his person ("Oh, Sasuke-kun❤ Even with just one arm, I know you're good enough to beat everyone here❤"). He watched Naruto peek over Sakura's shoulder, humming occasionally, or nodding his head, as he looked over the cards.

"Hey, I think I remember that guy," he said to one card, and, "Wow, those are some shitty stats," he commented on another. "I wonder how up-to-date ours are?"

The way he said this last sentence set up a small, paranoid warning flag somewhere in the back of Kabuto's mind. But before he could think any more on the intonation of the blond's words, Sasuke interjected with a scoff.

"If he had our real stats on those cards, he wouldn't be acting so condescending," the Uchiha said, shooting a seemingly amused look at Kabuto, with an expression like he was watching a foolish child try to climb a tree that was much too tall for them.

Naruto hummed thoughtfully at this, and Kiba rankled at the implication of Sasuke's words, snapping, "Team Eight is gonna leave you losers in the dust!"

Young Hinata giggled at this, her eyes twinkling, and Shino's expression was unreadable.

"You shouldn't underestimate them," she said to her teammate. "Naruto-kun and his friends are very strong."

Kiba seemed to wince at this statement, and he shot a glare at Naruto as if the boy was somehow solely to blame for Hinata's high opinion of Team Seven. Shino put a hand on the Inuzuka's shoulder, earning himself a scowl from the boy and a short growl from his dog.

Chouji was eyeing Akamaru with a thoughtful look, as though sizing up a Christmas goose, and Ino was alternating between glaring at Sakura and making doe eyes at Sasuke. Shikamaru looked like he wanted nothing more than to find himself a nice quiet corner and be rid of all this noise, but a look from Ino stopped him from wandering off.

Sakura's face lit up as she spotted a card with her picture on it, and she held it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. Naruto took one look at the card and let out a laugh.

"Oh, wow," he said, his eyes gleaming with mirth. "He's got your measurements right there for everyone to see!"

For an moment Kabuto was bemused by this statement, but he was distracted from his confusion by the sudden thought that Sasuke was going to snap and rip out his throat, judging by the look on the boy's face. But then Sakura lightly swatted Naruto on the back of the head and told him not to go spouting off bald-faced lies, which greatly lessened the intensity of Sasuke's death glare.

Kabuto couldn't help but feel relieved at that.

Sakura, turning her attention back to the card, gave the listed stats a scrutinizing glance.

"Let's see..." she muttered. "Ninjutsu rated at two... taijutsu as a one... three point five genjutsu, that's almost close to accurate... strength, speed, and stamina are all listed around a one? Wow, that is really off."

"Man, those are all way outdated," Naruto remarked, letting out a laugh.

"Definitely," Sasuke remarked, and he shot Kabuto an almost amused look. There was a smile in his onyx eyes that both galled and relieved the spy.

At least Sasuke no longer looked ready to kill him.

That was definitely a plus.

Ino looked torn between taking the piss out of Sakura for the girl's apparent boasting and agreeing unconditionally with whatever Sasuke was saying. The internal conflict was visible on her face, and after several seconds she finally settled for a weak, half-hearted chuckle.

Shikamaru cocked an eyebrow at the members of Team Seven, before sighing and muttering something that sounded a lot like "Troublesome." Kiba looked a mix of perplexed and disgruntled, and Shino stood quietly at the edge of the group.

"I wonder what he has on Naruto-kun?" Hinata posed the question with a guileless smile, opal eyes twinkling at the blond in question. Naruto reciprocated with a small, relaxed smile that gradually widened into a toothy, blinding gallery of a grin.

This seemingly harmless inquiry from Hinata caused Kabuto to feel a pang of irrational worry and try to recall what, exactly, he had on the card. He'd made a few separate versions of Naruto's info card, with various degrees of classified information on them, and while he was pretty sure that the only one he had in this deck was the safe, innocuous one with zero classified intel, his more obsessive compulsive tendencies raised a shadow of a doubt.

He maintained his innocent smile, quelling the silent fretting with practiced ease. He knew for a fact that those cards were kept somewhere secure, but unless he had it right before his eyes a small part of his brain would always give into the anxiety. If there was even the tiniest margin of room for doubt, Kabuto would invariably worry himself spare.

He needed to be certain everything was in its proper place, had to check and reassure himself that nothing had changed while he wasn't looking. It was awful, not feeling like you could even trust your own mind, but Kabuto's line of work had taught him to second guess everything.

Kabuto quietly took a deep breath, telling himself to calm down even as he kept the smile on his face. His expression did not falter, not even once. He hid his doubts with a practiced ease.

He watched Sakura shuffle through the deck for a few more seconds until she found what she was looking for.

"Here it is!" she said cheerfully, holding up the card.

It contained a copy of Naruto's first go at an identification photo, hands and face painted white and red in flashy Kabuki style. A few of the other rookies snorted or sniggered at the picture, while Naruto smiled and bowed, as if answering to the cheers of an adoring audience.

"Thank you, thank you!" Naruto said with a chortle, gesturing theatrically. Hinata giggled, and Sakura guffawed at the picture.

"Oh god, I thought you were joking about that," she said, pointing at the picture. "You seriously tried to get that registered as your ID photo?"

Naruto beamed.

"I did indeed!" he declared proudly. "And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for that meddling old man."

Sasuke choked back a swear and shot Naruto an evil look.

"Oh, you complete and utter bastard," he said. "You're the one who put those kids up to it!"

Naruto did not deny this. He simply flashed a grin at him.

Kabuto stared blankly, however, feeling a sudden rush of paranoia. He did a good job at hiding his worry, but only his Foundation training and extensive medical knowledge managed to keep him from hyperventilating as he stared at the ninja info card in Sakura's hand.

He had not made any cards using that image.

(Sakura suppressed a mischievous snicker at the flash of worry on Kabuto's face, and she shared a knowing grin with Naruto)

It was at this point that Ibiki came in with the other examiners, barking orders at the genin and drawing all attention to himself before any fights could break out. Kabuto took this chance to snatch his cards back from Sakura's hands, trying to hide his sudden anxiety with a friendly smile that came out looking more like a pained grimace.

"Listen up, you maggots!" Ibiki barked. "These are the Chuunin Exams, not some namby-pamby tea party!" He shot a piercing look at Team Seven, in particular, who were smiling far too innocently for his liking. "You will shut up, do as I say, and pray to whatever gods you might believe in that I don't decide to come over their and shove a boot up your ass! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Sakura chuckled at this show of intimidation the interrogator was putting on. It was amusing to her, not least of which because she knew old Ibiki Morino to be a great big fluffy teddybear when he wasn't on-duty. She caught Naruto, Hinata, and Sasuke's eyes, and they smiled at her.

Clearly, they shared her opinion.

The other examiners led the crowd of anxious examinees into the testing room and instructed them on where to sit. Teams were split up, and genin were seated in a seemingly random arrangement.

Hinata made a little game of trying to guess which of the test-takers were chuunin plants as she waited to be seated. So far she had marked three likely candidates, as well as a few more maybes. She didn't recognize most of the Leaf ninja here, outside a select memorable few – either they had changed considerably with age, or (more likely) had died in the Sand-Sound invasion, or one of the other subsequent conflicts.

She frowned at this depressing thought, and glanced curiously over at Sasuke.

Her husband's best friend was the sort of man who kept his thoughts close to his chest, and not many people could accurately read him. Hinata was one of them, with the insight of her byakugan, and Naruto was another, with ninshu and his preternatural empathy. Sakura, of course, knew Sasuke best – the man couldn't have hidden anything from his wife, not even if he wanted to. She could read him like an open book.

Hinata idly watched an examiner point Sasuke to an allocated desk behind an older Konoha genin. She saw his eyes travel over the room as he walked to his seat, scanning over the Rookie Nine, and Team Guy, and the Sand Siblings, and the Oto-nin too. Onyx orbs fell at last on Kabuto Yakushi and his teammates.

The flicker of emotion that passed across his face was so slight, and so quick, that barely anyone could have caught it. Hinata did, though, and she felt the urge to sigh.

Please watch your temper, Sasuke... Naruto told you to refrain from doing anything rash.

Almost as though he heard this thought, Sasuke shot a glower at Hinata as he reached his desk. She frowned at him as he sat down, silently reminding him that it would be imprudent to kill or maim someone who was ostensibly a fellow Konoha shinobi.

He rolled his eyes at her, but seemed to get the message.

Hinata smiled, relieved, and went to her assigned desk as well. It felt distantly familiar, and sure enough Naruto was seated beside her a minute later. This was a bit of a surprise. The odds of their seating arrangements being the same now as they were last time were phenomenally low, according to Sakura, but here they were all the same, in the very same spots they'd had last time.

Naruto met her eyes, and she saw that he noticed this as well. Their elbows brushed together for a split second, and she heard her husband's voice in her head.

"Sakura knows a lot about math, but I guess she doesn't know everything."

He felt a bit smug in this thought. Hinata resisted the urge to smile – Naruto had been the most stubborn doubter of Sakura's assertions.

"I think she was working under the assumption that our seating arrangements were randomly selected," she thought back. "Or else that the process for determining them used variables which would be altered by our changed actions in the past."

She could feel the moment of incomprehension in her husband's mind, and she could see his face screwing up in thought – not the face he wore with this thirteen year old body, but the face of the Seventh Hokage, the man who had fathered her children, and not the boy she'd long ago had a crush on.

She giggled inwardly, thinking of how cute he looked when he was puzzled. A fraction of a second later, recognition zipped through Naruto's brain, and he mentally beamed at her.

"That makes sense," he thought. "Sakura'll probably be annoyed that her theory didn't hold true, though."

Hinata's mind brushed Naruto's, and warm affection seeped into his awareness like butterfly kisses dancing across his cheeks. She felt a thrum of happiness, the emotions she had come to associate with the reflexive impulse of matewifewomanMINE.

"She's a scientist," she assured her husband. "One disproven theory just means a chance to explore alternate hypotheses."

"If you say so," Naruto thought back, feeling a tad skeptical.

The link broke, and Hinata shrugged. Naruto smiled, and returned his attention to Ibiki.

They were given their instructions, and told about how their tests would be graded. Once the pertinent questions had been answered, he then instructed them to turn over the exam sheets on their desks and begin.

The Seventh Hokage took one look at his exam sheet and felt the urge to laugh.

Only half of the problems made no sense to him, this time! That was a considerable improvement.

Cheerfully, Naruto began to jot down answers to the questions he knew.

Elsewhere in the room, Sasuke breezed through his test with relative ease. While he hadn't known any of this stuff the last time around, by now he felt fairly confident with everything but the math problems – and what kind of ninja would waste time mentally calculating the trajectory of their shuriken, anyway? That was the kind of thing you just had to grasp intuitively.

Also, he had never liked word problems.

Hinata, as well, could answer most of these questions without cheating (although she did use her byakugan to check her work against the suspected plants). She consciously left the left side of her desk unguarded, leaving her free arm below the quiz sheet. Catching Naruto's eye with a carefully measured scritch-scritch of her pencil, she saw him inconspicuously copy her answers from his peripheral vision.

The exchange of data was subtle, made to look perfectly natural. If anyone looked closely enough to notice Naruto's eyes scanning a little far to the right every so often, they might have dismissed it as a trick of the light. He wrote his answers in a perfect act of diligence, giving off the impression of someone who was honestly working through the test.

The key to getting away with cheating was knowing how to look like you weren't cheating.

...not that the author is speaking from experience, or anything.

Ahem.

And of course, Sakura finished answering the first nine questions before even five minutes had passed. Then she turned her paper over and began lazily doodling a very graphic love scene on the back of her test. She smiled dreamily, drawing a strikingly good representation of her husband as an adult making hard and hungry love to herself as an adult.

Halfway through drawing the picture, Sakura got a wicked smirk on her face and started drawing in an unmistakable adult Ino... making out with Sakura's adult self.

She had just been putting the finishing touches on adult!Ino's hands when she felt the familiar sensation of her friend's mind transfer jutsu taking hold. Repressing a devilish snigger, Sakura permitted the technique to take hold.

Ino-in-Sakura's-body stared at the back of the pinkette's test sheet for three whole seconds before she properly registered what she was looking at.

Then, naturally, she leaped out of her seat and shrieked hysterically. Sasuke rolled his eyes, knowing the examiners would probably deduct a few points for this outburst, while Naruto snickered, detecting the mortified embarrassment rushing from Ino!Sakura.

"Sit back down and shut your mouth, or you and your team are disqualified!" Ibiki barked, shooting an intimidating glare at the possessed pinkette.

Ino obediently did as asked, and was so flustered that she wound up reversing the mind transfer jutsu before ever actually managing to get a look at Sakura's answers.

Tsunade's apprentice indulged in a victorious smirk when she regained control of her body.

Soon enough, Ibiki ordered the test-takers to put down their pencils and listen up. They did so obediently, the fear of God having by now been well-instilled in them by the terrifying man. He then proceeded to give them all the same ultimatum as last time: opt out now and retake the exams next time, or accept the question and risk never being able to take the Chuunin Exams again if you get it wrong.

Sasuke rolled his eyes at how quickly people started folding. It was pathetic, as far as he was concerned. Anyone with half a brain could see that this was just a bluff – the Chuunin Exams were an international affair, and Ibiki wasn't even that high-ranking. Examiner or not, he didn't actually have the authority to follow through on that threat.

...Not for the foreigners, at least.

(He pointedly ignored a dim recollection of himself falling for this act the last time around)

Sasuke scanned his eyes over the room, looking curiously at Naruto. He could recall the blond having an outburst the first time around, and wondered what his teammate would do now. As much as he respected Naruto, he couldn't help but worry that his friend would do something spectacularly idiotic.

They HAD rather extensively debated the merits of various approaches, and how they would handle this whole time traveling headache, after all. Sakura had explained the multiverse theory to them, which provided a hope that they could somehow find a way back to the timeline they had come from, and also convinced Naruto that they shouldn't try too hard to recreate their past actions.

"All of this, all these events and stuff—" the blond said, gesturing around at his old apartment, which had been destroyed in Pain's invasion. "—happened over twenty years ago from our point of view. I don't know about you guys, but I can barely remember the specifics of everything I did two years ago. It's been so damn long since we last went through all this stuff..."

Naruto shrugged.

"There's no way we can recall every little detail, right?" Sasuke said shrewdly. "Like what we ate on this day, or who we talked to on that day. Even a small divergence could wind up cascading into huge changes, and this world is a distant childhood memory for us."

"Don't you think we should at least try though?" Hinata said, frowning a tad thoughtfully.

Naruto chuckled, and gave his wife a teasing wink.

"I think it's a bit late for you to be saying that," he chirped.

Hinata gave her husband a look, and gently swatted him on the shoulder.

"Oh, you."

Sakura cocked her head to one side, looking thoughtful.

"I hate to admit it, but Naruto does make a good point," she conceded. "I don't really remember when we first got that mission to Wave, for instance. I mean, I'm pretty sure Sasuke was there, but otherwise...?" She paused, then, furrowing her brow. "Um... he WAS there, right?"

Naruto frowned.

"I think so?" he said. "Didn't he die for a little bit there?"

"I do believe I would remember if I had died, Naruto," Sasuke replied dryly.

"No, no, I'm sure of it!" Naruto replied. "That was the first time I tapped into Kurama's chakra, though I don't think I actually knew it at the time. But I remember you taking an attack meant for me and falling to the ground – you had needles sticking everywhere out of your body and you weren't moving – remember? We were trapped inside those ice mirrors—"

"Ah, that sounds familiar," Sasuke said, a hint of recognition in his eyes. "We were fighting... Zabuza's apprentice? Shiro... something or other. I think that was their name."

"Haku, actually," Naruto corrected, smiling wistfully. "He was one of the most kind-hearted people I'd ever met, and that talk I had with him in the woods was a major turning point in my world philosophy."

There was a gleam in his eyes as he spoke, and he looked about ready to go off on a world of cardboard speech. Hinata cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder and distracting him with a soft peck on the cheek.

Sasuke frowned.

"Are you sure you've got that right?" he murmured "I thought you said this guy killed me."

"Well, it looked like you were dead, but I think he really just used acupressure or something to put you in a near-death state," Naruto said.

"Oh, so they only ALMOST killed me," Sasuke muttered rolling his eyes. "That's a world of difference."

"Tons of people have almost killed you," Sakura pointed out, grabbing his hand and smiling.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," she told him, and there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes now. " This is."

And then she kissed him.

Sasuke hummed to himself, distracted by guiltily pleasant memories, and he almost didn't notice it when Anko busted in through the window. Unfortunately for the last Uchiha, she most CERTAINLY noticed him, as well as the expression on his face.

While Sasuke still felt a little uncertain as to whether it was really okay for him to still enjoy kissing and holding his wife now that they were both reverted to around the physical age of thirteen, he would be lying if he said that going back in time had made her any less amazing of a kisser, or had made that magnificent brain of hers any less sexy. And lost as he was in distracted recollections of some especially sweet smooching, he happened to have somewhat of a... well, blush on his face.

(Sakura was a VERY aggressive kisser)

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Anko happened to see this blush, and to notice him staring straight ahead – seemingly right at her.

The impish special jounin's eyes lit up like the Christmas tree from Hell even as Ibiki informed her that she was early. She grinned a toothy, devilish smile which promised mischief and mayhem for anyone foolish enough to cross her path, and it was with quite a smug look on her face that she turned to Ibiki and called him out on letting so many kids pass the first phase.

Naruto and Sakura were very amused to notice this.

Sasuke would be considerably less so, when he found out.

Chapter Text

Everyone who had passed stage one of the exams was given directions to a training ground on the far edge of the village, a training ground in the thickest and wildest part of the forest that crept up to the heel of the village walls.

Those Konoha genin who had been around the block a time or two cast nervous glances at one another when they heard the designation of the area where they would be undergoing the second phase of the test. Training Ground Forty-Four was well known among the more experienced ninja, and it did NOT have a nice reputation.

Naruto was pouting as he watched Shino and Kiba basically drag his wife away. Hinata waved goodbye to him, and he waved back, but he still had a touch of a sour expression on his face as he and his own teammates headed to the area outside the Forest of Death. His hands were in his pockets, and he was practically sulking.

Sasuke's expression was grimmer than usual, his eyes steely and his jaw squarely set as marched ahead of Naruto and Sakura. He was intermittently fingering his shuriken holster and adjusting his forehead protector, looking coolly determined. He seemed oblivious to the way Anko had been looking at him, like a rattlesnake spying an especially juicy rat, and he barely even looked at his teammates as they made their way down the village streets along with the other participants.

His mind was clearly on very serious matters... or at least matters he took very seriously.

Dark eyes glanced furtively around, suspiciously eyeing several of the foreign genin. Lips were pursed, drawn tight and thin, and he muttered in the back of his throat. When they were nearly at their destination, lagging a couple minutes behind most of the other genin, Sasuke quietly addressed his teammates.

"There are going to be some nasty snakes in that forest, you know," he said lowly. "Ones as venomous as any we've ever seen."

Sakura and Naruto caught his meaning right away. It wasn't a terribly subtle code by the Uchiha's standards, but he wanted to certain they understood what he was saying.

"We've been bitten before," said the latter, matching Sasuke's pace. "We know the signs to look for, and we know how to draw the poison out. Even the foulest serpent fears the hawk's talons."

"How poetic," Sasuke drawled, arching a single eyebrow. "Read that in a fortune cookie, did you?"

Naruto shrugged.

"A book of proverbs, actually," he confessed. "Hinata got me one for my thirti... well, for one of my birthdays."

"I wonder if we'll actually run afoul of any snakes, though," Sakura muttered, glancing pointedly at Sasuke's missing arm. "They might not see us as... well, a threat, I suppose you could say," she tactfully remarked.

"Who else would they go after?" Sasuke retorted, frowning.

Sakura smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, I have a few ideas..." she said meaningfully, trailing off after a moment.

"Hm, would you look at that," Naruto interrupted. "We're here."

And so they were. Team Seven had arrived outside of Training Ground Forty-Four, where most of the rest of the Chuunin Exam participants were already waiting. Only a few stragglers remained, and even the very last was only a couple minutes behind Sasuke and friends.

Naruto beamed and waved an enthusiastic hello to Team Guy. Sakura glanced shrewdly at Tenten, who noticed her attention and frowned; the odango-haired brunette seemed reluctant to look in Lee's direction, her ears were a faint shade of pink. Neji, for his part, was acting nervous, and he seemed to be purposefully interposing his teammates between himself and Team Eight.

Most of the genin teams were keeping to themselves, and there was little to no mingling outside of their respective village groups. None of them seemed terribly eager to interact with foreigners, regardless of the ostensible purpose of the Chuunin Exams.

The genin from Kusa and Ame, in particular, seemed especially tight-lipped and mistrustful. Both villages were quite small, although they had been around for decades, and while there weren't official hostilities between any of the villages represented here, everyone knew that there was no love lost, either.

And the less said about Oto, the better.

But one of the genin on one of the Hidden Grass squads was looking curiously at Team Seven, frowning and staring at the Uzushio crests on Naruto's blindingly orange apparel. The bespectacled redhead eyed him and his teammates, looking alternately hopeful and afraid. A couple of times she looked close to standing upright and walking over to them, but she would then falter, and shrink away.

Naruto or Sakura probably would have gone over and greeted the girl, but then Anko spoke up and addressed the assembled genin.

"Alright, boy and girls, listen up, and listen well!" the pony-tailed violette declared, standing with her back to the test-takers.

She stood facing a gate in the wire fence which demarcated the boundaries of the massive forest beyond. The door was secured with triple padlocks and a paper talisman, and a battered and weather-worn sign hung from it, declaring in a bold and ominous font:

NO TRESPASSING

Anko turned to look over her shoulder at the genin, and many of the participants gulped in fear. A pall of dread hung over most of the genin, and Anko had a carefully cultivated look of sadistic amusement on her face as she peered at them with a haughty, condescending smirk.

"This is the arena for the second exam:" she said with a flourish, gesturing to the towering, ancient trees beyond the fence, "Training Ground Forty-Four. Also known as..."

She paused a moment for dramatic effect, and it sounded like one of the less resolute participants happened to whimper.

"...the FOREST OF DEATH!" she finished, putting a great deal of emphasis on the nickname. Some of the more timid test-takers let out audible squeaks. Even the more hardened cynics in the crowd could at least appreciate Anko's theatrics.

Sasuke frowned when he noticed the pointedly amused look Anko shot at him.

Sakura smiled, though, and looked up appreciatively at the massive trees.

"Ooh, this is a pretty creepy place," she said, not entirely facetious. "I bet all kinds of scary, nasty things live in those woods~"

Naruto nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the towering oaks and spruces. He smiled, breathing deeply of the green air. He felt at home among these trees, a leftover perhaps from spending half his life with an arm made of Hashirama putty.

"Mm-hm," the blond hummed absentmindedly.

Anko turned to face the genin full on. Some of the male participants – and a couple females, too – promptly found themselves quite hard-pressed to look their examiner in the eye. Even if you couldn't actually see anything through the fishnet, that formfitting top combined with that trenchcoat draped strategically over her frame gave off the illusion of being practically naked.

The Second Chief Examination Officer's eyes sparked with mischief, noticing this, and she widened her grin to show plenty of teeth.

"Heh... You twerps are about to learn the reason for that name firsthand," she said, casting her gaze over the captive audience.

Amber orbs alighted on Sasuke, who rolled his eyes and scoffed. He looked both unamused and unimpressed.

"Please," he muttered under his breath, shooting a disdainful glance at his wife and his best friend. "Don't make me laugh. We could run through this forest with our eyes closed."

He spoke too softly for Anko to hear his words, but she could see his mouth and read his lips.

She smiled.

"Mm, you're a pretty cocky one, aren't you?" she said, looking directly at Sasuke. Her grin didn't falter for even an instant.

Faster than any genin could be expected to follow, Anko whipped out a kunai and threw it. She aimed it just past Sasuke, sending the blade on a trajectory that would graze his cheek before coming to a stop harmlessly in the dirt without actually hitting anyone. And even as she threw the kunai, she mustered a bit of chakra in her legs, preparing for a short, precise shunshin to bring herself behind the one-armed boy.

It was a move intended to spook much weaker and less skillful opponents, perfect for psyching out rookies, cannon fodder, and mooks. For it to be effective, she had to be considerably faster than her target, had to have better aim and quicker reflexes. This sort of maneuver would be useless against someone as good as her, and borderline suicidal against someone better, but Sasuke was just a rookie genin.

Or so she thought.

Of course, you the reader are well aware that Sasuke is in fact a beyond-kage-level shinobi, and that he retains all the knowledge, reflexes, and chakra of his future self. Even the reduced proportions of his younger body were hardly more than a very mild inconvenience for a ninja of his skill.

Anko was good. She was DAMN good.

But she could not have anticipated Sasuke managing to snatch her kunai out of the air and point it at the spot where her face would be when she reappeared behind him.

She wasn't that good.

Anko blinked, staring at the pointed iron poised right between her eyes. She had been planning to lean forward and whisper some sweet, intimidating nothings into the Uchiha twerp's ear and maybe lick some blood from the scratch on his cheek just to really freak him out, but it seemed he had guessed her plan.

Someone else might have been disconcerted that a one-armed rookie genin had managed to catch their kunai without getting a hair out of place and then flawlessly anticipate the end destination of their body flicker. Uchiha or not, sharingan or not, that was a helluva feat, and something that a more paranoid individual might call uncanny, or even suspicious.

Anko simply laughed.

"Well, well!" she said, cheerfully grinning. "Good on you, kid. You might actually make it out of the forest alive with moves like that!"

And, seeming completely unperturbed by the fact that a very sharp kunai was only centimeters from her brow, Anko nonchalantly planted a teasing kiss on the boy's cheek.

"Keep your guard up, handsome," she said, her tone a patronizing singsong. "It'd be a real shame for anything to happen to that pretty face of yours❤"

Sasuke blinked.

For a moment, he stared into space.

Then his eyes widened, his jaw went slack, and his cheeks burned bright red. He dropped the kunai and recoiled with a yelp, whipping his head around to stare at Anko. He looked stunned and scandalized by the sudden smooch.

Anko grinned ferally. Sakura giggled, and Naruto snorted back a laugh.

"I... I'll keep that in mind," Sasuke squeaked. You could have fried an egg on his face at that moment, and he slumped forward awkwardly even as he inched backwards from the woman.

Laughter gleamed in Anko's eyes, and she was smirking knowingly as she stepped back and turned to once more address the assembled genin. She proceeded to give a short run down on what they would be doing for the second phase of the exam, casually psyching out the test-takers with her cheerfully sadistic act and unabashedly morbid statements.

Naruto elbowed Sasuke in the ribs as Anko passed out the consent forms. He gave his friend a rakish grin and waggled his eyebrows, pointing with his eyes to Anko's chest region and signing 'squeezed melons'.

Sasuke gave Naruto a covert three-inch punch to the gut and silenced him with a black look. 'Not another damn word,' his expression seemed to say. He wrapped his arm conspicuously around Sakura's waist, earning a strangled whine and dismayed look from Ino, who happened to spy this.

"I'd almost forgotten how fit Anko-san used to be," Sakura whispered teasingly, reciprocating Sasuke's defensive embrace of her. "She's very attractive, isn't she? Not to say that she wasn't cute the other way, of course..."

Sasuke choked at this, and whipped his head around to give her a Look.

"Not helping," he hissed, slouching a little further.

Sakura bit back a giggle, and absentmindedly accepted a trio of consent forms for her and her teammates. She smiled at Anko, who chuckled, winked teasingly at Sasuke, and muttered something about randy little brats before moving on to the other participants.

Once everyone had received their consent forms, Anko proceeded to explain the test.

Sasuke didn't pay that much attention to what she said: he was trying very hard to look anywhere but at their examiner. His cheeks were still burning pretty hard, and while the worst bits of discomfort had receded, he could remember much too vividly how certain parts of her anatomy had... squished into his back.

That damn woman was far too carefree. She was infuriatingly exuberant with absolutely no sense of personal space. Like a freaky, unholy mix of Naruto and Orochimaru.

Sasuke shuddered at the thought.

Horrifying.

When the word was given, the teams darted through the gates and into the Forest of Death. This was the sort of place that only an Ent or a mokuton-user could love, old and wild and preeminently treeish, a country that belonged not to fleeting man or beast, but to the ancient and gnarled titans. It was dark beneath the primeval eves, and an earthy scent of growth and decay hung thick in the air.

Genin cells raced into the forest, flitting between the massive trees like ants scurrying about an elephant's feet. Some hurried ahead, others hanging back to lay traps, while others tried their hand at actively seeking out the other teams.

Hinata let Shino and Kiba lead the way to a spot she vaguely recalled from the last time around. Shino said something about giant flying leeches, and Kiba made a cocky remark about home team advantages. The idea, it seemed, was to lie in wait for a foreign team to run afoul of the native fauna and take their scroll when the leeches attacked.

"My colony can produce pheromones to deter most of the indigenous predators, so we should be safe," Shino said. "But most of the other teams won't have such an advantage."

"Right, and Akamaru can warn us about anything that wouldn't be afraid of your bugs," Kiba agreed, nodding eagerly. His eyes were bright with enthusiasm, and he was grinning toothily. Survival exercises were his bread and butter, and Shino was similarly adept.

This particular test would be a piece of cake for Team Eight.

And sure enough, almost right away another team came stumbling into the area, and fell prey to the leeches. Horrified screams rang through the woods, and Hinata was tempted to step in – especially when she saw the Leaf headbands.

"We should probably get those leeches off of them," she suggested to her teammates when the last of the unfortunate genin fell unconscious. "It wouldn't be very patriotic of us to leave fellow Konoha ninja in such a state."

Kiba gave her an odd look at this. Shino hopped down and started to rifle through the insensate genin squad's pockets.

"They signed the waivers," Kiba said with a shrug. "Everyone in this forest is an enemy."

"But what kind of enemy?" Hinata asked him rhetorically. "Certainly there are some people in this forest I would not object to leaving like this..."

She thought of Kabuto and his teammates, in particular, and Orochimaru as well. He was somewhere in this forest even as they spoke, probably tracking down Team Seven.

Her fingers twitched.

"...but there are also many people I would say are only technically our enemies," she continued after a moment's silence, shaking her head and clearing her thoughts. "Especially the other Leaf ninja."

Kiba frowned, as though she had just suggested something completely preposterous.

"Ain't many people here I wouldn't mind throwing to the wolves," he muttered peevishly, no doubt thinking in particular of Naruto and the rest of Team Seven.

Hinata sighed. Kiba was very loyal to his friends, but it seemed he didn't put much store by nationalism or village chauvinism. In one way, this was a very progressive, egalitarian attitude to have. But it was also frustrating in other ways.

"I found their scroll," Shino said, calling up to them. "It would seem we're in luck."

Kiba pumped a fist in the air and crowed victoriously.

"All right!" he cheered. "Sucks to be those losers!"

Hinata smiled exasperatedly.

"Would you mind removing those leeches, Shino-kun?" she politely requested. "I'd rather not have the deaths of fellow Konoha shinobi on my conscience."

Kiba rolled his eyes at this, but he didn't say anything to directly challenge her remark. This was not to say, mind you, that he took it with any sort of grace.

"Wouldn't have figured you for the sort to practice favoritism," he grumbled.

Hinata smiled beatifically.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean," she said innocently. "I am simply looking out for Leaf village comrades."

Kiba frowned, and looked like he was about to say something else to this. He didn't get a chance, however.

A roaring of wind and thrashing of boughs reached their ears, cutting him off, and a second later they were caught in a hurricane, tumbling head over heels in a rushing vortex. They were sent flying like ragdolls – scattered as leaves before a gale – their world spinning and spiraling out of control.

Hinata had just enough time to recognize this as a wind style ninjutsu before she lost sight of her teammates. She was barely able to right herself in midair before crashing into a tangle of thorns and brambles.

That was not terribly pleasant. She got scratched in places she'd almost forgotten she had, and it hurt like a sumbitch.

Mentally swearing a blue streak, she sprang back to her feet and out of the underbrush. She willed her chakra up and out. Pressure built around her eyes, and she felt veins bulge. Her field of view spread out and extended dizzingly quickly, reaching a distance of several kilometers in a fraction of a second.

Oh, shit. This is not good.

She saw her teammates. Kiba looked dazed, like he'd hit his head on something less than soft, and Shino's colony was buzzing about him in distress. She also saw a giant snake headed towards each of them.

And that wasn't even the worst news.

No, THAT honor belonged to the gender ambiguous Grass-nin standing before her with a predatory smile and dangerously gleaming eyes. She saw this person's chakra, and knew immediately that it could only be Orochimaru.

Or at least she hoped it was Orochimaru. It would not be terribly nice to find out there was more than one kage-level shinobi running around the Forest of Death.

"Hello, little girl," the alleged genin said, smiling at Hinata wickedly. "It would seem you have been separated from your other teammates. Perhaps I could help you find them?"

Every word out of that mouth was dripping with perilously saccharine venom, and Hinata unconsciously slid into a combat stance.

"No thank you," she said. "I can already where they've landed."

The possible Orochimaru's eyes lit up at this, and he (she? it?) licked his (her? its?) lips.

"Marvelous," he breathed, and Hinata shuddered at how pleased this voice sounded. She'd forgotten just how indecent Orochimaru could make even the most innoccuous statements sound. "How wonderful for you, to have already achieved such control over your bloodline limit at such a young age..."

God, it sounded like he was having an orgasm with every word he spoke.

...and now Hinata found herself thinking of Orochimaru having sex.

Her breakfast very nearly propelled itself back out of her mouth in response to the ensuing mental images. An acidic bile taste befouled the back of her tongue, and her stomach lurched horribly. She gagged and came uncomfortably close to emptying her guts on the forest floor.

"Thanks for the compliment," she mumbled insincerely, trying hard to take her mind off of those awful, AWFUL thoughts. She took a deep breath, carefully assessing Orochimaru(?) and trying to decide the best course of action.

Shino and Kiba were taking care of their snakes, fortunately enough. The former had engulfed the probable summon in chakra-draining kikaichuu, while the latter had tossed his canine familiar a soldier pill and flung himself into the serpent's gaping maw, a whirling dervish tearing through the creature's unprotected esophagus.

If nothing else, at least her teammates could take care of themselves.

That was good.

It was doubtful she would get a chance to help them if things went the way she was starting to dread.

"I really hope you haven't come here for my body," Hinata said, concentrating the bulk of her attention on the possible Orochimaru before her. "Because it isn't really mine to give away, if you understand me. It hasn't been for... almost fourteen years, I believe."

The supposed Grass ninja chortled in a disturbingly sultry fashion. Hinata shuddered and forced to ignore this.

"Yes, we all owe our lives to divine providence, do we not?" said the ambiguously-gendered individual in a tone which suggested that they found the very notion to be laughably quaint. "But it is man's prerogative to forge his own path regardless of heaven's mandates. If we allow ourselves to be held back by childish concepts of morality, then we will never advance beyond what we have now. Your only obligation, in the end, is to yourself."

Okay, now Hinata could say almost certainly that this was Orochimaru. Probably. Not many people in their line of work cared one way or another about ethics, but the infamous snake summoner seemed to perceive codified morality as a personal insult.

"That is not quite what I meant," Hinata said blithely. "You can hardly give away something that is jointly owned, after all."

She noticed a glint of amusement in Orochimaru's eyes.

"My, how quickly children grow these days..." he purred. "But I am a rather jealous sort, I'm afraid. I have no intentions of sharing my body."

He struck, as swift and sudden as a viper, lashing out with a knife-handed blow that sliced through the brush and brambles as effortlessly as a wind chakra blade through butter. Or granite. There wasn't much difference between the two, really: not to shinobi of their level.

As it was, mind you, Orochimaru's attack might as well have been a soft nudge. It would not have made a difference either way. You kind of have to land your attacks in order for them to do anything, after all.

Hinata was about as slippery as soap in a prison shower, and failing to pin her down tended to have similarly unpleasant repercussions.

"I'd say it's no more yours to take than it is mine to give, personally," Hinata blithely quipped, a finger jabbing into her assailant's sternum. "But then maybe that's just me."

She skipped backwards, fluidly sidestepping a retaliatory swipe. The heel of her palm clapped sharply down on Orochimaru's tricep, parrying his arm aside and making him hiss. He made to circle around her, a quick feint to her right before strafing to her left, quickly weaving a few handseals. But she anticipated this, apparently, and he only just managed to spring over her sweeping low kick.

Orochimaru was no slouch in any department, it should perhaps be reminded, and he was easily a kage-level shinobi. This was not the sickly armless wretch who had been killed in his bed by a presumptuous teenager, or the technically reformed scientist who had slowly faded into obscurity. This was the man who had spent over four decades mastering one jutsu after another in relentless pursuit of knowledge and power, a shinobi sufficiently strong and cunning to singlehandedly conquer an entire nation.

Hinata had some serious skills herself, and was in raw ability good enough to match the snake summoner blow for blow. Furthermore, she had a better idea of his capabilities than he did of hers. The gentle fist was a formidable style, and her byakugan granted her an enviably complete awareness of the battlefield. She pressed her advantage and kept in close, striking swiftly and ruthlessly at every opening she could find or create.

But as the exchange of blows continued, and the seconds of their fight drew on, it became apparent that Hinata was at an unfortunate disadvantage. Her body was much smaller than it used to be, and did not have the years of physical conditioning she subconsciously expected it to have. Against most enemies this would not have been an issue – clever chakra manipulation could enhance her speed, reflexes, and striking force to the maximum of her ability, and her twenty some years combat experience would have been sufficient to give her an advantage in most cases.

Orochimaru was more experienced, though. He was genuinely brilliant and perilously clever. He had been a shinobi for almost twice as long as her, and had fought through far more battles than she had ever seen. The better part of Hinata's career after the Fourth Shinobi War had been rather uneventful, with a few minor (and not-so-minor) exceptions; while she was not the sort to let discipline languish in motherhood, she had still not been in a serious life-or-death battle for several years.

Orochimaru, in contrast, was at this point in time the sort to actively seek out trouble, and stir up conflict wherever he went. He was as far from being out of practice as you could conceivably get, and age had taken no significant toll on his abilities.

Really, it said a LOT for Hinata skill that her weaknesses only became apparent against a foe of Orochimaru's level.

Not that he could really press his advantage. She had kinda already blocked off his tenketsu by the time she realized all of this... which one could argue meant that Orochimaru didn't actually have the advantage at all, but whatever.

"Gentle Step: Twin Lion Fist!"

"OH GOD NOT THE FACE."

Sasuke looked up from the Rain genin at his feet, a small frown on his face.

"Did you hear something just now?" he asked his teammates, who were in the process of searching two other participants from Ame.

"Nope, not a thing," said Naruto, absentmindedly stripping the unconscious teen beneath him. "Why, did you?"

"I don't know... maybe," Sasuke replied.

"It was probably just the wind," Sakura said dismissively. Her face lit up as she pulled off her subject's gas mask. "Ooh... this one's kinda cute. A shame he hides it behind this contraption. He's probably an eight."

"Meh, I'd call him a six at best," Naruto shrugged. "Maybe a seven if he cleaned himself up. But then, I suppose I'm not really the best judge of male attractiveness."

Sakura laughed, and shot a grin in her husband's direction.

"Of course, Sasuke's my perfect ten," she said with a wink.

"And Naruto?" said Sasuke, a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Maybe a nine," she answered cheekily. "But I reckon I could be amenable to an upgrade if he ever bothered to provide a little extra service."

"I am not walking through this forest without a shirt on," Naruto said blithely. "Those branches get everywhere when we're running."

"Aw, you're no fun," Sakura said, pouting theatrically.

"Aaaannnd we have hit paydirt," Sasuke spoke up, retrieving a scroll from his subject's pocket.

"Alright!" Sakura cheered. "This'll be a record time for sure."

"Aw, can't we at least pay Karin-neechan a visit?" Naruto said, echoing Sakura's previous whine. "I wanna see how she's doing."

"The reunion's just four weeks away," Sasuke retorted. "You can see her then."

"If she decides to attend."

"Yes, if she decides to attend."

Naruto snorted, and shot Sasuke a dark look.

"If it was Itachi in this forest, you'd be chomping at the bit to go see him."

Sasuke reciprocated with interest, glowering acidly at his friend and liege.

"Kiss my ass," he sniped.

"Suck my dick," Naruto retorted with a comically imperious sniff.

Sakura giggled, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she looked from one to the other.

"Ohoho! I'd pay good money to see that❤" she interjected playfully.

Both men-turned-boys turned red as beets. They suddenly found it very hard to look one another in the eye, and both apparently became quite interested in their feet.

A moment passed in awkward silence, only to be broken by a shrill and girlish shriek.

"OH SWEET MERCIFUL JEBUS."

Sasuke blinked.

"Okay, I know I heard something that time."

"Snakes," Kiba hoarsely muttered, wiping a bit of viscera from his brow. "Why is it always snakes?"

He was grimacing as he staggered away from the snake's remains, and Akamaru trotted after him with a strip of serpent flesh in his mouth. The human wrinkled his nose at the smell of death that started to fill the clearing, and looked down at his bloodsoaked clothes.

He then looked at Akamaru, whose fur had not yet gone back to white despite the soldier pill's effects wearing off.

"Ugh, I need a serious bath," Kiba groaned.

Akamaru whined at that statement, and slinked along reluctantly beside his master.

"Yeah, you too," Kiba told the pup. "Sorry."

Akamaru visibly sulked.

"Oh, don't give me that look. I'm sure Hinata'll be happy to give you a wash, if that makes it any better," Kiba said, rolling his eyes.

Akamaru instantly perked up.

"Arf!" he barked, wagging his tail and spattering a bit more blood on Kiba's trouser leg.

"Now all we have to do is find her," Kiba muttered, more to himself than to his dog.

"THAT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BEND THAT WAY."

Akamaru's ears perked up, and the young ninken cheerfully yipped.

"Huh. Yeah, I heard it too. Think it has anything to do with Hinata?"

Akamaru wagged his tail and barked.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Shino might be there too."

And so the pair of them set off in the direction of the screams.

Chapter Text

Karin's teammates were complete and total assholes.

This was the thought going through the redhead's mind as she stomped viciously through the brush and undergrowth. A thunderous look was on her face, and she was gnashing her teeth and clenching her fists.

She and her team had not been in the forest for more than a few hours, and already she was feeling tempted to throttle those insufferable prats. She could barely stand her teammates at the best of times, and just the thought of having to put up with them for practically an entire week out here in the wilderness left her feeling ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Karin fumed, thinking darkly of the exchange which had just transpired between her and her fellow Kusa genin. Echoes of their last conversation were still bouncing around in her head.

"Hey, Karin, would you mind sewing my pants up? I must've ripped them on a tree branch."

"Wha...? No! I'm not your mother. Do it yourself, you lazy ass."

"Oi, don't back-sass me, twerp! I'm your elder and superior: you oughtta do as I say!"

"He has a point, you know. We've got seniority over you, kid."

"So you should know how to sew your own damn pants! I'm your teammate, not some... whimpering bloody maid you can just order around whenever you like!"

And so it had gone, quickly enough devolving into the usual argument: Karin resented her teammates for looking down on her just because she was younger, and her teammates scorned Karin's opinion and continually foisted all of the most boring and unpleasant duties onto her. She asserted that she had a right to be treated as an equal – they had been on a team together for nearly a year, after all, and she felt that she had more than proven her worth – while her teammates refused to acknowledge her accomplishments and condescendingly told her to wait on the sidelines.

Sure, it was strategically sound, what with how she was both their sensor and medic, and also admittedly not that great in a fight besides, but Karin still resented it, and she chafed under the yoke of kouhai to her teammates' sempai. Maybe she hadn't passed her combat exams by nearly as great a margin as would have been preferable, but she still wanted to contribute SOMETHING more than just being a nurse, gopher, and human radar. It was only natural that she would resent the condescending attitudes they adopted toward her.

So the fight had swiftly escalated, and Karin had ultimately stormed off in a huff, fiercely muttering numerous imprecations against those smarmy gits Jin and Taro. They thought they were sooo great.

Bah.

"Smarmy gits," Karin grumbled redundantly. "They think they're sooo great... bah!"

She kicked an acorn, gouging the surface of the soil with the toe of her sandals. The acorn whistled a good several feet through the air and ricocheted off the gnarled bark of a nearby oak; it disappeared somewhere into the foliage, clipping and rustling some of the leaves.

Watching the acorn vanish, Karin felt some of the righteous indignation slip away. She deflated a bit, listening to the whisper of the wind in the leaves around her. Already she was finding herself to be feeling sheepish about her outburst, and regretful over the argument that had only recently transpired.

The sensible part of Karin knew that she shouldn't have stormed off like she did, because it was dangerous in this forest, what with all of the other teams that were doubtlessly gunning for them. She may not have liked her teammates that much, but Jin and Taro were older and more experienced. They might not have got on very well at all, but damned if they weren't a good combination: Karin was their eyes and ears, and her teammates were the arms and legs.

Without her they were as good as blind, and without them she was as good as defenseless. Shinobi with her affinity for extrasensory techniques OR healing were rare – individuals with a talent for both would naturally be damn near irreplaceable, especially for a small village like the Hidden Grass. Her contributions to the team were invaluable, but there was also no dismissing what those two stubborn oafs did for her.

They were excellent meatshields, if nothing else.

"This is stupid," Karin muttered, wearily shaking her head. "I should be back with my teammates, helping to track down a weak squad for an easy scroll, not moping about in the middle of a death forest teeming with dangerous beasts and enemy combatants..."

She spared an uneasy glance at her surroundings, feeling very small beneath the eaves of Training Ground Forty-Four. A quiet exhalation escaped her, and she closed her eyes.

Kagura Shingan, she thought. It took a noticeable effort to build her chakra, and she felt a tingling spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. The technique itself came to her with relative ease, but the range of her perception was somewhat inconsistent, and she still needed to consciously push and hold it.

Karin focused, taking several calming breaths as she reached out with her chakra sense. She felt the flickering signatures of her teammates near the edge of her perception – that had to be almost fifty meters.

Could she really have wandered that far from them in so little time? She hadn't thought she'd been moving that fast, or for that long. Her temper really did need some serious work if she could stray that far from her team in a fit of pique. That was a worrisome flaw, and could be potentially fatal in a place as unequivocally dangerous as this.

Karin shook her head and let her mind's eye close once more. A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline, and she wiped it away absentmindedly.

"Well, at least there don't seem to be any other teams nearby," she mused. "That's good. Hopefully there won't be any nasty surprises waiting for me, either."

She hadn't detected any significant chakra signatures with her jutsu, but that didn't mean as much as it might. Humans weren't the only threat in this forest, and sensing animals with techniques like her Mind's Eye Kagura was a notoriously tricky matter. And while chakra-based traps (such as ones built around seal tags or paper bombs) could be picked up by certain sensory ninjutsu – like her own – she had no better chances of picking out trip wires or pitfalls than the next person.

ESPECIALLY if they were prepared by hand, which she did not doubt most of the genin here would need to do. Pits hollowed out with jutsu would stand out to her senses for a fair while after they were made, traces of chakra clinging to them like a bad smell, but traps laid through more mundane means would be effectively invisible to her sensory jutsu right from the word "Go".

And these were shinobi training grounds, after all. It was only to be expected that there would be traps laid all over the place. Hopefully most of them would be nonlethal, but with someone like that batty sadist sending them off, Karin felt like it would not be prudent to get her hopes up. Especially given the circumstances of this exam.

"Just don't die."

Not exactly a reassuring bit of advice, but those were the words that Anko woman had left them with. Karin was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the boughs and bushes beginning to rustle before her.

Survival exercise.

That's what this was.

And Karin knew exactly what that meant. Everyone in this forest was an enemy; even other teams from her own village probably wouldn't hesitate to attack her or her teammates if they thought it might be an easy victory.

Despite that, however, right now it seemed like the biggest threat to her well-being was —

"WROOOAARR!"

The trees shook, and the foliage exploded as a massive, grizzled bulk shoved its way through the brush and brambles. Roaring furiously, with patches of darkly-red matted fur on its haunches and a foaming slaver dripping from enormous yellowing teeth, a living hill of muscle and sinew stormed into the clearing.

It wheeled around, dark and beady eyes falling on Karin's petite form. There was a sense of madness in the way it flattened its ears and bared its fangs, a blind fury incurred by agonizing pain. Hot, reeking breath struck Karin straight in the face, smelling strongly of overripe berries and rotting flesh.

Her ears popped. A deafening, bellowing roar rang in her through the forest, shivering her bones and resonating in her chest. It shook her from head to toe, and she kept on shaking even when the roaring stopped, and the beast snapped its jaws shut with a vicious snarl.

It was fortunate that Karin hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, or else she might have soiled herself.

"...meep."

Exit Karin, pursued by bear.

Neji Hyuuga was pensive as he led his teammates to the bank of a narrow, black creek he'd spotted winding past the toes of several ancient, hoary elms and oaks. The water was dark in the gloom of the forest's perpetual twilight, but cool to the touch, and clear when cupped in their hands. It was bitter tasting, though not foul or stagnant, and Neji downed his draught with a slight grimace.

Lee and Tenten fared a little better against the acerbic taste, and they filled their canteens in anticipation of future need. The latter had a few gallon jugs in one of her storage scrolls – Might Guy may have been an eccentric teacher at the best of times, but he'd taught his pupils to always be prepared – as well as over a dozen spare flasks, and Neji himself had at least three redundant canteens on his own person, just in case.

A squirrel darted up a tree over on the opposite bank, freezing in place for a moment as though it sensed Team Guy's scrutiny, before skittering frantically over a nearby branch and springing across to another tree. It scurried off into the dark eaves, vanishing from Lee and then Tenten's sight within seconds.

Neji watched it go with a thoughtful frown, before daring another short quaff of the creek's water. It was just as bitter as the first draught, but also cool and wet, and it slaked his thirst well enough. He could probably endure the taste at need, but he would certainly never sip it in leisure. This would have to suffice for their purposes.

"How long do you suppose it'll be before we run into a team with the scroll we need?" Tenten wondered aloud, glancing sidelong at Neji. She screwed on the cap of her last canteen, squatting quietly on the bank and pointedly trying to avoid Lee's gaze.

"Maybe half a day, if we're lucky," said Neji noncommittally.

Tenten arched an eyebrow at this remark.

"Really? I wouldn't have marked you the sort to rely on luck."

"It's not reliance. I'm simply aware of it as a factor."

"I see. Well, whatever you say," Tenten drawled, giving him an wry look.

Neji brushed this off and glanced towards Lee, who was filling his own pair of canteens. The green clad gouken apprentice seemed entirely oblivious to his and Tenten's exchange and was humming tunelessly to himself as he screwed the cap back onto his waterskin.

Neji felt his lips curl into a seemingly disapproving scowl as he thought about the exam.

"Did either of you get a good read on any of the other participating teams?" he inquired brusquely. "I'm sure we can handle most of them, if it comes to that—" (and by we, he of course mean mostly himself) "—but I would prefer to avoid taking any unnecessary risks. We should approach every step of these exams with the utmost prudence."

Lee and Tenten both looked at Neji, and the Hyuuga prodigy crossed his arms over his chest. They didn't say anything at first, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Well?" he impatiently prompted.

Tenten gave a shrug.

"There were a couple squads I thought seemed poorly balanced, but most of them were eliminated in the first stage," she said. But then she paused, and thoughtfully pursed her lips. "I suppose those rookies might be easy pickings, of course, but no doubt half the teams in this forest will be thinking along the same lines."

Neji blanched, thinking immediately of the squad his cousin was on.

"Not all of them," he said, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice. "I think it would be a good idea to avoid Team Eight."

Tenten frowned at this, and she gave Neji another odd, penetrating look.

"That's the team with the other Hyuuga, isn't it?" she said, squinting curiously at her long-haired teammate. "What, are you sweet on her or something?"

In spite of himself, Neji couldn't help making a face at this comment. He felt his cheeks burn, and his gut roiled nauseatingly.

"Hinata," Lee spoke up, surprising the other two. "That's her name, isn't it? I think she's Neji's cousin."

Tenten looked away from Neji, and her curiosity apparently overcame whatever awkwardness had recently emerged between her and Lee, because she gave him the same piercingly quizzical look she'd just been giving Neji.

"How would you know that?" she asked him.

Lee shrugged.

"He talks about her, sometimes," he said a touch airily. "Or he used to, at least. I do not think he has mentioned her in a while, though..."

Neji coughed anxiously, aware that he'd been avoiding the subject of his family in general (and Hinata in particular) ever since that little incident after her academy graduation. Tenten blushed, though, and stared down at the creek with a carefully neutral expression.

"Oh. I guess I must not have been paying attention," she said a touch lamely.

Lee eyed her curiously at this admission, but he apparently didn't read anything much into it, as he only stared for a couple of seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to Neji.

"Well, I am not certain about Team Eight or Ten, but I imagine Team Seven would provide us a challenging fight. Their teacher is Guy-sensei's eternal rival, after all."

"Oh! So the Copy Ninja's taken on a genin team, has he?" Tenten remarked, perking up. "That does sound interesting. And, Team Seven... that's the one with the last Uchiha on it, isn't it? I hear he was ranked top of his year."

"That's hardly a surprise," said Neji imperiously. "The Uchiha were a clan of the highest elite, nearly on par with even the Hyuuga. It is only natural that their last loyal scion should prove a shinobi of exceptional skill."

"Yes, Sasuke Uchiha's reputation certainly precedes him," Lee commented. "But I have heard that his teammates are also proving to be extraordinarily skilled."

"Who are they, again?" Tenten wondered, frowning thoughtfully. "Anyone we know?"

"Naruto Uzumaki is one of them," Neji lowly muttered. "I remember that name, at least. He has been spending a lot of time with Hinata, lately..." He frowned, then, absentmindedly wondering why he had the feeling that the name Uzumaki should have been known to him for another reason.

"Naruto... seriously?" Tenten murmured, eyes widening a hint comically. "I'd have marked that twerp for a dropout. He's the one who tried to take an early graduation exam when he couldn't even muster a decent clone jutsu, right? The same brat the adults were all in an uproar over a couple months back."

"Do you mean when the Hokage Faces were graffitied?" Lee said, looking at Tenten. "Was that him?"

"It must have been," Neji said. "I can't think of anyone else in the village with a name as ridiculous as Naruto."

"Man, to think they'd stick a troublemaker like that on a team with the last Uchiha," Tenten mused wryly. "Sounds like a real volatile combination, don't you think?"

"I am not sure of that... They actually seemed to get along famously," was Lee's reply. "He, Sasuke, and Sakura-san are all very close, from what I have seen." He cocked his head to one side. "I should have thought they had been friends from the womb, for how companionably they talked to each other. It was like every other sentence out of their mouths was an inside joke between the three of them."

"Kakashi must be an exceptional teacher to have impressed the importance of team cohesion on them so quickly," Neji mused.

"Yeah," Tenten agreed. "I know some older teams that could use some refreshers on that topic."

Neji frowned, noticing the look she gave him at this remark. It was not accusing or reproving, but he certainly got the impression that she felt he could afford to try more actively to get along with Lee.

"I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea what you mean," he said loftily.

Tenten rolled her eyes, but she didn't say anything else.

For a moment, Team Guy was silent as they finished packing up their gathered supplies. Tenten sealed her jugs and flasks into a couple of general purpose scrolls, and Neji ajusted the canteens on his person so they wouldn't jostle or bump noisily.

Lee perked up, suddenly, just as they were prepared to depart ("We shouldn't stay in one place for too long,"Neji had said, and Tenten had silently agreed) and he glanced curiously up and down the tiny creek which trickled and burbled through the massive, primeval forest.

"Did you hear that?" he asked them, looking suddenly anxious.

"Hear what?" Tenten said, frowning at him. "All I hear are the creek, and the leaves rustling—"

"Wroooaarr!"

A bellowing roar echoed through the woods, distant and faint but still undeniably audible. Shortly after that could be heard a shrill, girlish voice screaming a number of colourful invectives.

Neji blinked. Tenten blushed.

"Oh," she said sheepishly. "That."

Lee frowned, and stared in the direction of the sounds. His brow knitted so tightly that his eyebrows were nearly a single continuous V of glossy black hair.

"It sounds like someone's in trouble," he commented.

Neji sighed and resisted the urge rolled his eyes.

"Of course it does..." he muttered.

"Sasuke?"

Sasuke looked up from what he had been doing and glanced curiously at his teammate. Naruto looked strangely tense.

"Yeah, Naruto?" he asked, subtly cautious. They were nearly at the tower in the center of the forest, now, and it would not do at all for them to get sidetracked by his friend's occasionally mercurial temperament.

Naruto twitched. His fingers flexed, curling halfway into a fist before hesitantly pulling back and relaxing. His expression appeared strained, a conflicted twisting and contorting of the blond's features that would have been rather comical under other circumstances.

"Hinata trusts me, right?"

Sasuke frowned.

"...yes, she does," he said slowly, unsure what this was about.

"She respects my opinion, and accepts that I only want what's best for her?"

Sasuke nodded carefully.

"She does, yeah," he said. "To hear her talk, you'd almost think she believed you had the sun shining out of your every orifice."

Hinata had a very high opinion of her husband.

"And she expects me to respect her in return, right?" Naruto said. "To not throw a fuss and come storming in every time she stubs her toe? To trust her to be able to take care of herself when she has to?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"You've been married how long?" he said rhetorically. "I think you know what she can and can't handle, Naruto."

The blond smiled weakly, the expression obviously forced, and he nodded.

"Yeah, that's right... She can take care of herself," he said.

Naruto twitched again, and his fingers curled once more into fists. They did not relax this time.

Sasuke shot Naruto a concerned look.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "If something's happened..."

Naruto laughed shrilly.

"Oh, it's nothing! I'm fine!" he declared. "It's not like my wife is fighting Orochimaru on her own, or anything!" His voice cracked as he said this last bit, his pitch rising by nearly a full octave.

Sasuke blinked at the killing intent rolling off of his friend. It was erratic, like he was fighting the urge to run right over and crush Orochimaru like an insect – Naruto was obviously trying very hard to suppress it. Sasuke couldn't help but notice, however, and even Sakura looked up from the scroll she'd been lazily toying with to glance curiously at the two boys.

Neither of them seemed terribly concerned, though.

"If she was in any serious danger, you wouldn't be standing here talking to me," Sasuke coolly reasoned, giving Naruto a shrewd look. "There'd be a cloud of dust next to me, and a straight line of leveled forest leading from here to wherever Hinata is. Since you haven't run off to her rescue, I daresay she's handling herself just fine."

Naruto glowered.

"I still can't help worrying, you know," he grumbled. "We hadn't been expecting that old snake in the grass to go after her... If I'd known this might happen, I would've put him on ice the second I first felt his chakra."

Sakura laughed, and patted him reassuringly on the arm.

"You wouldn't have," she said confidently. "We both know you're not a killer, Naruto. At most, you would have beaten him within an inch of his life before turning him over to the ANBU – like what you did the last three times someone was stupid enough to target your wife."

Naruto twitched.

"Those were just the people who tried to kidnap her," he replied. He turned and gave Sasuke and Sakura an almost frightening look. "The assassins never had enough of a body left behind to warrant formal investigation, once I got through with them."

Naruto's sakki flared so intensely as he said this that a small family of birds, several squirrels, and one nearby, lounging tiger fell to the ground all at once, twitching and frothing at the mouth simultaneous heart attacks. Sakura merely raised a single eyebrow, and Sasuke waved his hand dismissively. Neither of them so much as flinched.

"Is that how it works?" said the pinkette, eyeing Naruto skeptically. "Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that's not how it's supposed to work."

"He's hokage," Sasuke said, as though this explained everything. "I'd be more surprised if he hadn't been covering up any deaths. I'd probably have done the same thing in his place."

Naruto nodded emphatically.

"And I know for a fact what you did to that one guy who tried to poison Sasuke in his sleep," he added, piercing Sakura with a gimlet eye. "I'm sure your students learned all kind of things about high velocity impacts from studying his remains, but that really is the sort of thing you should clear with me or Shikamaru, first."

Sakura at least had the decency to blush. Sasuke just looked relieved that Naruto had moved on from fretting over Hinata.

As if she couldn't take care of herself just fine.

Briefly, Orochimaru wondered where it was, exactly, that he had gone so wrong. So horribly, agonizingly wrong.

Maybe it was the human experimentation. That HAD been kind of extreme, in hindsight.

He'd felt justified at the time, of course, and it had certainly helped that some of his earliest and tamest studies had been performed – with the council's approval – on captured enemy combatants, and he had definitely advanced his knowledge by leaps and bounds with those experiments...

But it had been so great an advancement that when he inevitably ran out of approved test subjects, he had not felt like stopping his experimentation. Resenting the legal limitations being placed on his research, he had started to look elsewhere for viable guinea pigs, quite unbeknownst to any village authorities.

Of course, even when his experimentation had been entirely within the bounds of shinobi law (which was notoriously muddled and nebulous when it came to general ethics and human rights) his teacher and teammates had never really approved of it. Sarutobi-sensei had accepted, however reluctantly, that it had been a grim necessity of war, and trusted that Orochimaru would ultimately use what he learned from his testing for the betterment of Konoha's shinobi, but he'd not been happy about it.

And, to be fair, this had honestly been Orochimaru's intention, at least at first. Even if he had focused most heavily, even then, on the enrichment and augmentation of one shinobi (himself) in particular, it still had intially been done for the sake of adding to the Leaf's knowledge and military strength. But somewhere along the line it seemed he'd gotten a bit full of himself and decided that he, Orochimaru, was the person singularly most deserving to make use of what he had learned from his experiments.

It probably didn't help that he'd been working so closely with Danzo Shimura and the Foundation at the time. Certainly Danzo was a brilliant, effective military leader and tactician, but even at his best he tended to be a bit short-sighted, as well as far too chauvinistic to ever accept anything less than total submission to the Hidden Leaf's sovereignty from the other nations and hidden villages.

That probably should have been a warning sign, really.

Not to say that Danzo was a raving megalomaniac, or anything of the sort. The man was fervently dedicated to Konoha's safety and prosperity, even if at times he seemed to border on insubordination towards his old friend, Hiruzen. Danzo was a die hard patriot, willing to do absolutely anything to ensure Konoha stayed at the top of the heap. But this was kind of the problem.

Just serving a few years in ANBU could throw an otherwise decent man's moral compass off-kilter, and Danzo had been working in the deepest, darkest heart of Konoha's military since long before most of village's active shinobi had even been born. Danzo had no compunctions about conscripting orphans, giving them training so extreme it'd make even Might Guy go "Dude, what the hell?" and forcing them to fight and kill their closest friend to mentally break them and rob them of all emotional grounding, before continuously sending them off on horrifically suicidal and morally reprehensible missions until finally they either either died in action or snapped under the pressure.

Root's only retirement package was an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. There were no pensions, health benefits, or stock options. Foundation agents were lucky if they got so much a single sick day in their entire career, and they usually had to be all but dying in their cot to warrant even that much.

If ANBU was Hell, then Root was the frozen lake at its heart where Satan gnawed on Judas. So it was only natural that Orochimaru, having spent so much time in his youth studying under Danzo (nearly as much as he'd studied under Sarutobi-sensei, in fact) would ultimately crawl back out from under that particular rock with a frost-bitten tongue and breath that reeked of treachery.

The company one kept said a lot about their character, and when even Danzo Shimura would be considered perfectly in the right to have someone secretly assassinated, you would know that they had well and truly fucked up.

Maybe Orochimaru should have thought twice about turning his back on the village. It wasn't like he really wanted to destroy Konoha, after all – whatever else he might say, it had truly been his home, once. But he'd been chased out, exiled once the full extent of his experimentations had been uncovered, if only because they'd not been able to hold him down long enough for an execution.

And of course there were the plots, the conspiracies, the betrayals and lies. He'd worked with Akatsuki of all people – and in that time likely figured out more about their true objectives than even the nominal leader knew – and he probably still would have been in the organization if he hadn't jumped the gun on trying to get a hold of Itachi's priceless sharingan eyes.

It couldn't really be called a proper pattern if it had only happened twice so far, but there would certainly seem to be a causal connection between then and now.

He had a really bad habit of underestimating young, doujutsu-wielding prodigies, didn't he?

Orochimaru ducked ruefully out of the way of one of the dragon-shaped chakra constructs that happened to be enveloping young Hinata's arms. She retracted and extended the phantasmal wyrms with every thrust of her palms, her movements eerily fluid and graceful.

The technique wasn't immediately familiar to Orochimaru, but it bore more than a passing resemblance of principle to her twin lion fists. He supposed it was simply a higher level variant of that technique intended to compensate for the relative dearth of ranged combat options in the standard Hyuuga style. Certainly, the dragons seemed to drain chakra on touch much like the lion-heads had.

Oddly enough, though, it also appeared to incorporate aspects of the vacuum palm and its variations, transferring both natured chakra and kinetic energy via displaced air. This gave the impression of the chakra-dragons breathing fire, and lightning, and shockwaves that shattered trees.

It reminded him, in turns, of both the Shodaime's Wood Dragon Jutsu and the Hirudora technique of the Strong Fist school.

Orochimaru wasn't sure if this was some secret traditional jutsu of the Hyuuga clan, a technique this child had somehow concocted through her own experimentation, or a side effect of that mouldering, months-old bowl of curry he'd heated up for dinner the other night, but whatever it was he didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out.

With all the valor of a true honorary Slytherin, he turned tail and fled.

He probably wouldn't have gotten away if Hinata teammates hadn't chosen that moment to rejoin her. And even though Orochimaru did trip over his own tongue at one point (he'd quite forgotten what a terrible idea it was to try and use his lingual grappling technique on a gentle fist practitioner) the exclamations of mingled awe and disbelief from the Inuzuka boy at the sight of Hinata so fierce and disheveled distracted the girl most effectively, keeping her busy and bemused long enough for Orochimaru to get back up on his feet, sling his tongue over his shoulder, and get the hell out of dodge.

Just to be safe, he tossed a few flashbangs and pepperbombs over his back, in case they got any bright ideas about trying to follow him. By the time Team Eight's senses recovered from this combination assault, Orochimaru would be long gone with no traces left for them to follow left behind.

Now he just had to find somewhere nice and quiet where he could curl up into a ball of screaming nerve endings and horrifically mangled pride for a month or two until all of this had blown over.

CRAPCRAPCRAP

FUCKFUCKFUCKITYFUCK CRAP

OHGOD

OHMYGOD

I AM GOING TO DIE !

This was the gist of what was running through Karin's head as she barreled through the forest, albeit much sanitized and heavily edited for comprehensibility. But the girl was running like her life depended on it (which, to be fair, it almost certainly did) and fleeing her furious pursuer like a bat out of hell.

"Come ON!" she wailed, stumbling for a moment before regaining her balance.

The bear thundered after her, a massive, snarling bruin that looked like it could have been an Ursus arcturus with how enormous a hulking mass it possessed. Its breath steamed in the air as it roared, and its eyes were wild with unreasoning fury. It hurtled through the Forest of Death, an unstoppable juggernaut of adrenaline and sheer bulk.

Karin had no idea how long she'd been running. It might have been hours, it might have been just minutes; all she knew for sure was that if she stopped running now, it would probably be the last thing she ever did.

A curse escaped her lips – a root almost tripped her up. She recovered at the last second and caught herself before she could fall, bringing her foot ahead to catch her weight and leaning forward. She propelled herself faster, kicking off of the tightly packed soil and flying with all haste.

She REALLY wished she'd taken the time to learn the Body Flicker. That probably would have made escaping this stupid bear quite trivial.

Also, why wasn't leaping up into the treetops, now that she thought about it? Sure, bears could climb trees, but a creature of this size would not be able to do so easily, and she in contrast would have no trouble leaping from branch to branch and putting some distance between her and this damn bear.

Nodding to herself and smiling fiercely, Karin altered her trajectory and charged straight at the trunk of the nearest tree.

She made it a whole three steps up the side before remembering that her sensei hadn't ever actually taught them the tree-climbing exercise.

"GAH! YOU IRRESPONSIBLE MOTHER—!" she began to swear at the man, before falling backwards off the tree trunk and hitting her head on the ground.

Her glasses nearly flew off her face, and her bum smacked the trunk, heels striking hard and horny bark as she struggled to right herself through the disorienting pain of a throbbing hematoma and possible concussion. The bespectacled redhead swore a blue streak as she frantically rolled herself over, but the bear was practically on top of her by the time she managed to get herself right-side up.

Its slavering jaws were only centimeters from Karin's face, the girl panting and bruised, sweaty and helpless on her knees. She nearly gagged from the smell of its breath, which was putrid and foul and rancid in all of the worst ways imaginable.

She stared hopelessly down the bear's blackened-pink gullet, the seconds seeming to dilate into hours as her life flashed before her eyes.

If Karin had any regrets at all... ... ... it was that she was about to die a virgin.

She closed her eyes, praying that it would at least be over quickly.

"DYNAMIC ENTRY!"

CRASH

A moment passed.

Karin, not feeling any teeth sinking into her skull, risked opening her eyes. She blinked, then, and stared at the sight before her.

Skintight spandex on a lithe, muscular form.

Check.

The bear lying in a crumpled heap several feet away with a foot held firmly to its throat.

Check.

A chiseled behind you could have bounced a ryo coin off of.

Check.

A bowl-cut hairstyle, monstrously bushy eyebrows, and GREEN as far as the eye could see.

...well, no one was perfect.

"Hello, my name is Rock Lee. I apologize for not being able to get here sooner, but I came as fast as I could. Are you hurt, miss?"

He smiled at her and held out a hand.

Karin blinked.

...he had very nice teeth, she had to admit, and he was a damn sight more polite than either of her teammates. Plus he looked like he might be a year or two older than her.

She felt her cheeks burn.

"I... I'm fine, thanks," she mumbled, having a bit of trouble finding her voice. "Hi, er... Lee."

Hesitantly, she grabbed onto his hand.

He had a very firm grip.

Karin felt like she had a frog in her throat, and something was fluttering excitedly in her gut. Electricity jolted up through her fingers as he squeezed her hand and helped her up off the ground.

Her face grew yet hotter, and she felt very nervous about looking into those shining black eyes. Her stomach rose up into her mouth, and she felt like her whole world was spinning.

Karin couldn't help herself.

She threw up on Lee's sandals.

OMAKE:

dirty gaarry wtf

Gaara scowled as he strolled into the tower at the heart of the forest.

"That was too easy," he muttered lowly, voice rather deep and gravelly in spite of his youth. "Swatting flies like them barely even qualifies as an affirmation of my existence..."

Kankuro spared a nervous glance in Temari's direction. Temari returned the fearful look with interest.

"Is that so, Gaara...?" she said hesitantly. "Well, don't forget what sensei told us..."

Gaara stopped walking. He turned to look at his sister, expression blank and unreadable.

"...Tell me, Temari, have you ever had fifty gallons of sand shoved forcibly up your ass?" he asked conversationally.

Temari blinked. Kankuro whimpered and inched conspicuously away from Gaara.

"Er, no... no, I can't say that I have," the sandy-haired wind mistress answered nervously, looking distinctly... clenched at the thought.

"I see. And would you like to?" Gaara asked dangerously, with the kind of glint in his eye that usually told Temari to GTFO and find a bomb shelter or titanium bunker in which to wait out the inevitable explosion.

Kankuro scooted away until his back was up against a wall, at which point he fearfully covered his rear and closed his eyes.

"N-No," Temari said, gulping and anxiously covering her own ass, "No, I... cannot say that I would, Gaara."

The red-haired jinchuuriki leaned in close at this statement, looking his big sister straight in the eye. He spoke in a voice so low that it was scarcely above a whisper.

"Then don't tell me what to do."

Temari nodded like her life depended on it, and Kankuro collapsed into a weakly sobbing nervous wreck.

Gaara turned and stalked off to goodness-knows-where.

Chapter Text

Three teams finished the second phase of the Chuunin Exams within the first four hours. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura. Gaara, Temari, Kankuro. Hinata, Kiba, Shino. These nine genin, through either skill or dumb luck, managed to acquire the scrolls they needed and make it to the tower in the center of the forest less than a quarter of a day after the test had started.

So that was two teams from the Leaf, and one from the Sand. Obviously there were certain advantages associated with being in the home field, but still this news left the Konoha officers feeling a tad smugly patriotic.

Those who had encountered the Suna team, however, may have felt a twinge of sympathy for the genin squads Eight and Seven. These six Leaf rookies would need to spend the next four and a half days in relatively close quarters with the Hidden Sand's contestants, and none of those three young foreigners seemed terribly friendly.

But that aside, there was another slight hitch in the plans for the second phase. This stage of the exams was set to last five days, and no one had really expected any of the contestants to pass so soon. This left the exam proctors with a headache and a half.

Genma Shiranui glowered at a younger, mousy-haired chuunin, flicking an irritable sidelong glance at one of the gates in the fence surrounding Training Ground Fourty-Four.

"What do you mean the quarters aren't ready yet?" he drawled, chewing on a senbon. "Those preparations were supposed to have been finished before the exam even started."

He gave the young man a piercing look, causing him to gulp nervously.

"Ah, er... well, Satoshi said he was on that..." the feckless assistant mumbled. "But... then I guess he got called out on a patrol mission, and I think he'd asked Kasumi to do something about it for him...

"But then her grandmother got sick, so she asked Aoba... but he was busy in T&I, so he shunted it off onto Shinji, and he asked Akane-chan to cover him when an important assignment came up... and, well..."

Genma crossed his arms over his chest.

"Let me guess," he drawled. "Then she wasn't able to do it either, so she asked someone else. Right?"

The lad gulped.

"Y-Yes sir, Genma, sir. Takeshi and Soun were in charge of it after that, and I guess it must have just slipped their minds..."

Genma shook his head, exasperated.

"I see..." he sighed. "Kid, I'mma ask you a dumb question, and I hope you answer it honestly. This is important, okay? I don't want you lying to me, because then we would have a problem."

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward an inch or two.

"And I don't want us to have a problem. Capisce?"

The mousy-haired ninja paled at the glint of steel in his senior's eyes, and he nodded frantically.

"Y-Y-Yes, sir, of course!" he squeaked.

Genma took in a slow breath, and shook his head ponderously, peering once more askance at the Forest of Death beyond the fence – an area which was presently off-limits to effectively everyone but the exam participants.

"If you knew these preparations weren't being completed..." he drawled, pinning the lad to the spot with a gimlet eye. "And don't try to say that you didn't!" he added in a warning tone. "But... BUT, if you knew that these people weren't getting their assigned tasks done, then why didn't you do anything to make sure it got done?"

The young chuunin went a bright shade of pink, and he nervously averted his eyes.

"I-It wasn't my job, sir," he managed to squeak out, clearly abashed.

Genma pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, for the love of..." He shook his head with longsuffering sigh. "No... no, of course it wasn't."

He dismissed the assistant with a wave of his hand, turning to glare daggers at the forest.

Genma Shiranui hated the Chuunin Exams. He really, truly did. It was just embarrassing how terrible most shinobi were at planning proper events. They just couldn't seem to wrap their heads around using their brains for anything that wasn't a mission.

It was like trying to herd cats, or getting academy first years to do a serious production of Romeo and Juliet.

Most shinobi were just completely hopeless when it came to this sort of thing. Raids were no problem. Sting operations were easy as pie. Covert ops and assassination were their bread and butter.

But the Chuunin Exams?

Oh, those never failed to get even the cleverest of ninja running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Places for visiting shinobi needed to be arranged, resources set aside for the preparation and execution of the various tests (and the Undertaker Squad was still miffed about the Forest of Death being locked down while the second stage of the exam was on) and reams upon reams of paperwork to sign, file, notarize, et cetera.

It was enough to make Genma's head spin, and that wasn't even getting started on all the manpower that needed to be diverted from missions in order to prep and proctor the separate tests and up patrols within the village. It was a logistical nightmare, even if local businesses tended to do quite well with all of the foreign visitors looking for places to eat or buy extra supplies.

Hell, it was worse than the Olympics. At least those didn't involve hordes of superpowered pubescent idiot savants and autistic little psycho killers running helter skelter through the heart of a national military power center.

Genma fiddled with the acupuncture needle in his mouth, a nervous tic that betrayed his frustration.

"These exams are gonna be a total pain in my ass, I just know it..." he grumbled peevishly. After a moment of staring at the sign hanging over the gate in the chain-link fence – a sign labeled with the numeric designation of these particular training grounds – he shook his head and turned to leave.

"Whatever," he said mulishly. "It ain't my problem. Anko and her lackeys can deal with it."

He vanished in a swirl of leaves, with a sound like the wind.

Anko barely managed to cover her mouth in time to keep from sneezing all over her plate of dango.

"Huh, well," she sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. "Someone must be talking about me. Probably one of my many admirers."

She grinned and snorted noisily, flicking a bit of mucus off of her finger and into her guest's tea. Ibiki stared balefully at the off-yellow chunk of... ahem, nasal debris now drifting in his chamomile.

"I can't imagine why," he said dryly, looking Anko squarely in the eye.

She laughed.

"Sure you can't," she said, puffing out her fishnet-clad chest and winking. "But loads of guys are real sweet on me. Reckon it's my winning personality that does it – that, of course, and my brilliant mind."

Anko popped a trio of sweet dumplings off of their stick and into her mouth, chewing for a second before taking a swig of her own tea. She gulped the mess down with a sigh, grinning toothily before plucking up another used dango stick and tossing it over her shoulder without even looking.

The dozen or so skewers she had already embedded in the wall looked like the beginnings of a Leaf symbol.

Ibiki spared a unamused look for the callow display, before he turned back to Anko with a snort.

"Yes, I'm sure that's it exactly," he drawled, sparing a disinterested glance for the seemingly-transparent formfitting mesh which comprised most of his friend and colleague's outfit. He wrinkled his nose when he saw Anko smirk and languidly stretch, slyly catching his eyes below her neckline and leaning forward over the table.

"Like what you see?" she teased, batting an eyelash in a theatrically exaggerated wink.

Ibiki chortled despite himself, rolling his eyes and dumping his ruined tea over the side.

"I've seen better," he replied dismissively, effortlessly meeting his friend's eye.

Anko let out a most unladylike guffaw.

"As have I, I'm sure!" she chortled, looking him playfully up and down. "You aren't exactly a looker yourself, Ibiki."

"Yet I daresay I'm still a damn sight handsomer than half those punks in the Exams," he wryly rejoined.

"I dunno... there are some very pretty ones in the mix this time around," Anko teased. "That Uchiha boy could probably pull off a dress and make up... maybe a curly blonde wig..." Her eyes glimmered with mischief.

Ibiki snorted.

"That's one of Kakashi's students, isn't it? Uchiha, Uchiha... Sasuke, I believe his name was."

"Yup, and I reckon that twerp's probably one of my newest admirers by now."

Ibiki raised an eyebrow at Anko's playful tone, and at the impish gleam in her eyes.

"Oh? And just what did you do to the boy?" he asked, eyeing her a mite suspiciously. Anko was boisterous and fun-loving without much sense of propriety, plus a healthy dose of twisted ethics from being trained as a child soldier from practically as soon as she was old enough to write her own name. Usually, she knew better than to traumatize the rookies, but sometimes things got a little out of hand, and well...

Anko shrugged off his concerns and waved an airy hand.

"Just a peck on the cheek and a bit of squeeze play, is all it came to," she said dismissively. "I meant to get him with my usual scare tactic, as I'm sure you know, but he caught the knife and pointed it at my head. So I had to improvise."

Ibiki caught the smirk on Anko's face as she said this. He resisted the urge to sigh.

"Last I checked, Anko, the boy was still only twelve. Do try not to harass him too much, okay?" He shook his head. "Intimidation is one thing, but people are going to have words for you if you make a habit of going around and kissing prepubescent boys."

Anko snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Friggin' nancies," she griped. "Concerned parent groups and moral effing guardians. If they had their way, our genin wouldn't even leave their diapers 'til they were thirty-five. They can't honestly expect us to keep babying the ankle biters, can they?"

Ibiki gave Anko a measured look.

"Shinobi or not, Anko, most of them are still children," he told her carefully. "Even if they've been trained to kill, there are just some lines that shouldn't be crossed. Legally speaking, if nothing else."

"Uh-huh," said Anko mulishly. "And as long as we don't cross those lines, we can continue to maintain our delusion of moral superiority, right?" She scoffed. "C'mon, pal, don't give me that tripe and try to call it prime rib. There's a difference between doing the right thing and being a damn prude."

Ibiki groaned and shook his head.

"Now, really..." he sighed. "Can we please not start this? Not today, at least. Please, Anko, I'd really rather not get into another of those debates; it's been a hell of a day for me already."

Anko narrowed her eyes, but she said nothing and drained the last of her tea. After a moment of silence, she set the cup back down and shook her head, seeming to deflate at least partially.

"Bah, whatever," she muttered. "It's been a long day for me, too. You know, I don't think anyone actually got around to setting up the temporary quarters in the tower?"

"For the teams who finish early, you mean?" Ibiki said. "That can't be right. Wasn't Genma's group supposed to handle that?"

"They're setting up for the third phase," Anko replied. "Preparing the invitations to be sent out and all that, and making sure there'll be proper accommodations for the guests in the month leading up to the final stage. I think Hayate had the tower."

"Hayate... is that Yugao's beau?" Ibiki said, a hint of recognition crossing his scarred face.

"Yeah, it's lover-boy, alright." Anko nodded. She rolled her eyes. "Bleh. I mean, I get that he's sweet on her and all, but does he really need to fill the margins of his progress reports with all that lovey-dovey crap? I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing that half-finished poem about how everything from the shape of her eyes to the color of her hair makes him want to kiss her senseless."

"Sounds like he's a proper romantic," Ibiki dryly remarked.

Anko grunted disinterestedly.

They sat quietly for a moment, stewing in a thoughtful silence. The proprietor came over and brought them their bill (sparing a distasteful look for the dirty skewers Anko had embedded in the wall behind her), which the two jounin split fifty-fifty. Then the pair of them stood and left the small dango shop, resuming their discussion on the unlikely subject of Hayate and Yugao's relationship.

Anko was convinced it was only a matter of time before Hayate proposed – he had that look in his eye, she said, of a man possessed by the spirits of all that is sappy and pink. Ibiki was pleasantly surprised by this statement, and he mused that they were getting to an age where members of their generation were starting to pair off and think about settling down. Anko snorted, expressing her disagreement quite colorfully.

She ranted about stupid couples and stupid romance and stupid cupids, vehemently declaring that she was quite sick of it all, and that she personally felt the world would be much better off with far fewer lovers in it. She vocally decried all things fluffy, frilly, and sweet, insisting that she would be happiest if she never again happened to cross paths with so much as a single happy couple.

Meandering through a quiet and wooded part of the village, Ibiki Morino and Anko Mitarashi made quite an unlikely pair as they chatted and joked beneath the sundappled canopy on this pleasant day as upwards of sixty chuunin hopefuls fought for their lives in the Forest of Death. She was quite passionate on the subjects she cared about, filled with energy and verve, while he spoke slowly and precisely with a deep, gruff baritone.

Somehow or other, the topic of their discussion went from couples in general to young couples in particular. Anko had some oddly specific words to say about randy little raven-haired brats and their precocious pinkette teammates, and Ibiki wasn't sure how much of her talk was amusement and how much was annoyance.

Apparently young Sasuke had taken a fancy to his female teammate – Sakura Haruno, a name which Ibiki vaguely recalled from the first phase of the exam. After a moment's thought, he was able to place it. He remembered finding a most interesting drawing on the back of that girl's test sheet...

When he mentioned this to Anko, the woman laughed and offhandedly made a quip about randy, precocious little runts. Ibiki secretly agreed with her sentiment, and absently he wondered what had happened to that particular paper. That Sakura girl was a remarkably talented artist.

But before their conversation could progrss any further, the two Chuunin Exam proctors found themselves quite rudely interrupted.

"Anko, Ibiki!" a patrol-nin shouted, leaping down in front of them. "Terrible news, you won't be happy to hear this... three corpses have been found in the graveyard...!" He shuddered and weakly shook his head, looking faintly ill as he caught his breath. "I really think you two should probably take a look at them, this is... well, it's like nothing I've ever seen. Not a pretty sight."

Anko frowned, eyeing the chuunin curiously at these words.

"I should think a graveyard usually has bodies in it," she remarked, although there was an unusually steely glint in her eyes.

Ibiki frowned, and a hand went to a hidden pocket in his trench coat.

"How fresh are they? Any idea on the cause of death, or ID of the victims?" he inquired, joining Anko as they followed the chuunin into a body-flicker. "I assume this is more than just a matter of some derelict or drug addict dropping dead in a public venue, if you deem it necessary to inform us."

The patrolman didn't answer right away.

"Definitely less than a day old," he said eventually. "An ANBU coroner'll probably be on the scene shortly, but I'd say they can't have been there more than a couple of hours. We'll probably get an official COD than, but it's not hard to guess the general cause... and yeah, I figured it would be prudent to let you guys know, since the bodies..." He paused for a moment, and his face flickered with an unidentifiable emotion. "...well, you'll see what I mean when we get there."

He turned, and gestured for the two exam proctors to follow him.

Anko hummed thoughtfully, and shared a look with Ibiki. They nodded, and their expressions darkened.

As one, the three of them vanished into the treetops.

The tower at the center of the Forest of Death had a gloomy, dismal feel to it. Lights were flickering on and off, the hum of a sputtering, inadequately maintained generator somewhere in the basement level resounding through the painfully silent structure. Seal tags and talismans of nearly forgotten purpose were slapped at seemingly random intervals on the walls and pillars, which were cracked and stained from years of alternate use and disuse.

It had an atmosphere of isolation, a sense of being cut off from the rest of the world. This tower was located at the heart of the single most wild and savage area in the vast, sprawling woods for which this part of Hi no Kuni was famously known, and was not often in use. Typically it was just a rest stop for the higher ranked shinobi who actually used Training Ground Forty-Four for training.

With so few people in it, naturally the tower felt empty, and the silence was nearly oppressive. This eerie tranquility seemed sacrosanct, in a way, as though to break the quietude of this place would be taboo, and would result in a dire retribution being visited upon their heads if they dared to speak, or otherwise make any noise of any kind.

So, of course, Naruto had no problem loudly and cheerfully greeting a certain Suna jinchuuriki.

"Yo, Gaara! How's it hanging?" The blond walked up to the redhead, grinning broadly and waving in salutation. He seemed utterly unconcerned with anything, and did not look as though he even feared for his life in Gaara's presence.

Kankuro and Temari, from a far corner of the dimly lit hallway, gaped at the blond and exchanged worried glances with each other, before inching even further away from their brother. Nothing much had happened since their rather unpleasant trip through the forest, and they'd mostly spent the past couple hours trying to keep an eye on their youngest sibling while at the same time staying WELL out of his way.

Gaara turned to stare unblinkingly at Naruto, dull turquoise eyes disinterestedly assessing the orange-clad lad. Darkly ringed eyes gazed out from an expressionless face, a hairless brow branded with a blood red tattoo of the kanji for love.

"Why are you talking to me?" Gaara rasped, his voice low and laden with a quiet menace. His eyes narrowed. "I have no interest in your company. Go away, if you value your life."

Temari and Kankuro held their breaths. The former tried to distract herself by mentally reciting all one hundred principles of shinobi conduct. The latter closed his eyes tightly and went to his happy place where busty, scantily-clad kunoichi oiled and polished his puppets.

Naruto grinned at Gaara, unperturbed.

"'Cause I feel like it," he said bluntly in response to the question. He scratched the back of his neck, then, letting out a laugh. "And while I do like living, I reckon I don't have anything much to fear from you, haha... No offense, of course."

Gaara crossed his arms.

"Hmph. You must be as foolish as you look," he said.

"Yes, so I've been told!" Naruto laughed. "And you look like a violent street punk. But appearances can be deceiving, can't they?"

The blond's eyes twinkled, and he took a small step towards Gaara.

Despite everything logic told him, in spite of all past experience and present assessments of the boy before him, Gaara found himself reflexively, automatically taking a step back almost as soon as Naruto advanced. His heartbeat quickened for a fraction of a second, and he felt a thrill of something he dimly supposed might be fear.

The smile hadn't left Naruto's face, but in that moment the air felt unbearably thick between them, and a massive weight bore down on Gaara's head. He found himself unable to meet Naruto's gaze, bowing his head to look at the other boy's toes.

Temari gaped at the sight before her. It was utterly inexplicable. Had she not known better, she might have thought that thus loudmouth had somehow cowed her youngest brother.

But that was impossible... wasn't it?

She shook her head, deciding that she must simply be imagining things, and sharply elbowed Kankuro in the ribs. Her middle brother had a rather dopey expression on his face – doubtless he had gotten a little bit too wrapped up in his happy place. Kankuro gave a strangled yelp, and shot Temari a dirty look. She gave him a stern glare in return, and he sheepishly folded without another word.

They moved further away from Gaara, turning their backs and tiptoeing down the hall, figuring that whatever should happen next, it would be useful for them to be able to claim plausible deniability.

"Perhaps they can," Gaara muttered at length, after several seconds of silence had passed.

He still found himself inexplicably incapable of meeting Naruto's gaze, and his lips twitched infinitesimally downward at the corners, curling minutely into something not unlike a frown. With some effort, he hardened his gaze and raised his eyes to look Naruto straight on.

There was something deep to those eyes, he realized. They gleamed with a soft light, a warm and gentle compassion like he had seen in Uncle Yashamaru's eyes. They were kind yet firm, caring and forgiving.

Blank and lifeless, frozen in terror and hate, glaring sightlessly at him from the shadows of memory and fear in the darkest corners of his mind; always staring, always piercing, always judging. Always and forever, that stare would be burned indelibly into his mind, into his dry and shriveled heart.

It burned him, it froze him – he could not bear that gaze, but it would not be averted for anything. Not until he had paid for the sin that was his very existence, not unless he assuaged his mother's hate, quenched her parched and cracked lips with warm, sweet, worthy blood.

Gaara felt an urge to shudder, but he suppressed it. His hands were trembling, however.

"You're lonely, aren't you?" Naruto whispered insightfully, his stare piercing. He nodded. "Yeah, I know you are. I can see it in your eyes. They're just like mine used to be," the blond whispered, and for a moment Gaara could not help but see his uncle.

Sand hissed and rattled in his gourd, the cork threatening to pop, to flood and bury the hall in angerbloodhatekill.

"Believe me, man," Naruto continued, as though oblivious to the danger he was in. "I know where you're coming from. I know those feels so hard. It hurts worse than anything else, doesn't it? It gets you right here, right in the goddamn kokoro. When everyone refuses to acknowledge your existence... well, that just plain sucks ass, doesn't it?"

Something in Gaara snapped at these words. His eyes flashed, and he saw nothing but red. Sand erupted from his gourd, crashing into the walls and cascading down the hall in a thunderous cacophony of motion.

"DON'T TALK LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND!" he roared with all the venom and bile of an angsty teenager, his voice cracking and going hoarse from the sheer volume of his shout. "YOU DON'T KNOW ME! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS MY PAIN! JUST SHUT UP AND DIE!"

In the blink of an eye, Gaara's sand filled the hallway before him from floor to ceiling. Walls groaned under the strain, bending outwards and threatening almost to buckle. Gaara twitched psychotically, growling and snarling.

There was no way the blond could have escaped that, he told himself. Naruto was, beyond any shadow of a doubt, surely buried in the heart of this flood.

Looking absolutely livid, Gaara held out his hand and savagely curled it into a fist.

With a sound like a thunderclap, the hall imploded. Enough sand to bury a full platoon of shinobi collapsed into a singular point, a perfect sphere of no greater than half a meter in diameter. Not a single grain littered the floor, every ounce of his resources committed into this surefire killing blow.

There was no way the blond could have survived that.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Gaara let his arm fall, and the spherical coffin of imploded sands collapsed. For a moment, he felt almost relieved, a rare catharsis that came with his most satisfying kills.

Then a finger tapped him on the should.

"Eh, what's up, Gaara?" came Naruto's cheeky voice. "You see a fly on my shoulder, or something? That was some serious overkill just to swat a bug."

Gaara blinked.

It took all of his willpower to fight the urge to cry tears of rage.

Sakura was glowing with contentment as she and Sasuke slumped to the floor, sweaty and panting and flush with exertion. They were fully clothed and not at all disheveled, but there was nonetheless an unmistakable air satisfaction about them.

Sasuke's sharinnegan was extinguished; silver, sable, and scarlet orbs having dimmed into a uniform, unpatterned black. He was smiling gently, his chest rising and falling with pleasantly labored breaths as he gazed at his wife with a soft and subtly passionate intensity. His face was ruddy, brow glistening with sweat as though he had just run a marathon.

Sakura was beaming radiantly, smiling wide and humming a tuneless melody to herself as she reclined against her husband. She nestled her chin into the crook of his neck, lazily inhaling the fragrance of his sweat, the musky perfume of Sasuke Uchiha. His arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, and she was idly caressing his knee.

"That was magnificent," she purred, melting blissfully into his tender embrace. A giggle escaped her. "Tsukuyomi is just as useful as I remember."

Sasuke nodded absentmindedly bathing in the afterglow of illusionary... ahem, bonding between him and his wife.

"I can't believe I'd forgotten about that particular application," he admitted, lazily rubbing a hand up and down Sakura's waist.

"Well, now, we were pretty distracted," Sakura said defensively. "What with everything that was going on..."

"Mm, that's true," Sasuke hummed, nodding.

He leaned a little more into Sakura, not particularly caring all that much about anything but him and her in that moment. They were cuddled up together in this out-of-the-way room, uncaring of whether or not anyone happened to come across them.

Seventy-two hours of mutual mindscrewing could do a LOT for relieving stress.

So, of course, neither of them were terribly upset when Kankuro and Temari stumbled into the room with fearful expressions. Sasuke and Sakura were too absorbed in sitting there and enjoying one another's presence to raise a fuss about any interlopers.

The two non-jinchuuriki sand siblings, in contrast, were flabbergasted when they saw the pair snuggled up so... intimately. Sure, the kids were fully dressed, and sure their clothes didn't have the disheveled or careless look of clothing tossed back in place after an NC-17 encounter, but Temari and Kankuro weren't idiots. They could tell, from the expression on the kids' faces and the way that they held one another, that obviously something had happened between them.

Had they been less intent on fleeing their psychotic younger brother, Temari might have felt torn between envying these brats who could afford to be so lovey-dovey and scorning this grossly unprofessional behavior, and Kankuro probably would have scowled and felt annoyed that even thirteen-year-olds were getting more action than him.

As it was, both still muttered rather darkly for a moment before turning around and beginning to barricade the door with whatever they could get their hands on.

Sasuke shot an irritable look at the two siblings, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Sakura.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you two to knock?" he muttered, giving them the stink-eye.

Sakura pouted, feeling Sasuke move, and reluctantly she let go of him. He stood up, and for a moment she contemplated taking advantage of the fact that this left her at eye level with his zipper. At the very least, it might make the interloping Sand-nin uncomfortable enough to leave of their own accord...

But then Sasuke stepped towards Kankuro and Temari, and Sakura lost her chance to act. With a "what-can-you-do?" sort of shrug, she stood up and glanced at the makeshift barrier the duo had erected across the doorway. It actually looked decently sturdy for something thrown together from sparse and disparate pieces of furniture, and she mused that it could probably stymie a normal genin for at least a few minutes.

"What's with the barricade?" she innocently inquired.

Kankuro peered at her over his shoulder, a wild and hunted look in his eye.

"Gaara's gone berserk!" he hissed. "He almost got us with that last attack... if we hadn't already left the hallway..."

He shuddered.

"What, is that all?" Sasuke said, distinctly unimpressed. He harrumphed. "Please. He's not that scary."

Temari shook her head. "No, believe me, it'll be a LOT safer if we just sit tight and wait for this to die down. Gaara's in a whole other league from ordinary shinobi, but as long as we stay out of the way, he shouldn't feel any need to kill us."

"Really, we should probably be throwing the two of you to him," Kankuro muttered darkly, "since it was your teammate who set Gaara off. Maybe killing you lovebirds will be enough to satisfy him."

"Absolutely not!" Temari snapped, silencing her brother with an icy look.

"Yeah, that's not a very nice thing to say," Sakura added, frowning at Kankuro.

Kankuro glowered hotly, and Sakura slowly shook her head.

It was a bit surreal to hear the puppeteer suggesting that she and Sasuke be sacrificed to his baby brother, considering how she had saved Kankuro's life in another time after he'd chased after that very same brother when he got abducted by Akatsuki, only to wind up getting beaten and poisoned by the very man who'd created most of the puppets Kankuro ever used. Of course, he had never exactly been the most genial fellow to begin with, but still...

She mentally shrugged this off, and looked over at Sasuke, who was boredly assessing the makeshift barricade.

"You won't keep him out with this, you know," he commented dryly. "Honestly, I doubt a barrier that flimsy would work on anyone who makes it all the way to this tower."

Temari flushed, and shot the raven-haired tween a dirty look.

"Oh, what do you know?" she sniped, folding her arms under her chest.

This gesture earned the blonde a faintly jealous look from Sakura, who glanced ruefully down at her own... rather lacking bust, and scowled.

"More than you," Sasuke deadpanned with a wry smirk. Kankuro snorted at this, quite obviously biting back a laugh. "And I reckon Sakura knows even more than I do."

He shot his wife a grin, and she tore her gaze from Temari's teenaged rack. Sakura's expression brightened considerably, and she returned the smirk with interest.

"Flatterer," she said, shoving him playfully on the shoulder of his missing arm. "What am I ever going to do with you, Sasuke?"

He smirked, before feigning an innocent expression.

"Oh, I don't know..." he drawled. "I'm sure you have a few ideas."

Sakura laughed, catching the glint in his eye.

"You're a very naughty boy, aren't you?" she chortled. A wink. "Yes, I suppose I can think of a couple ways to punish someone like you, handsome..."

Kankuro gagged exaggeratedly.

"Ugh, get a room, you two," he groaned. "That's just disgusting."

Temari looked like she dearly wished to nod in agreement, but then she suddenly whipped her head around to stare at the barricaded door. Frowning and narrowing her eyes, she raised a finger to her lips and hissed at the other three, before pointing to her ear and then at the door.

The sound of footsteps soon became audible, and all four current occupants of that room went silent. Sasuke and Sakura were trading bemused looks, and Kankuro had gone deathly pale beneath his war paint.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The footsteps came closer, growing louder and clearer the nearer they walked. Sandals clapped on the tile floor, their owner (or more likely owners, judging by the frequency and timing of steps) making no attempt to move silently or disguise their presence.

Sasuke pursed his lips, listening carefully. He held up his hand and raised two fingers, looking at Sakura and arching an eyebrow as if to silently ask for her opinion. The pinkette frowned and nodded for a moment, before pausing; her eyes narrowed, and then she shook her head, raising a hand of her own and putting up three fingers.

Sasuke appeared skeptical for a moment, but only a moment. He perked up, listening to the uneven tempo of the approaching footsteps, and a look of realization crossed his face. His mouth opened in a silent 'ah', and he nodded in understanding.

He gestured briefly with his one hand in an obscure, altered form of ANBU sign language, a modified lexicon that had originally been devised by Danzo Shimura for the purpose of discreetly conveying orders to his Root operatives. Fingers curled into a fist before splaying out, twisting and flexing into a few complex arrangements.

Sakura's response came in a more standard mode, hands quickly blurring through a brief sequence of signs. Kankuro and Temari, who had by this point noticed the silent exchange, were only able to catch the tail end of the conversation – not that it did them any good, since neither one actually knew sign language.

Sasuke seemed mollified by whatever it was Sakura told him, however, and he smirked and turned toward the door once more.

The footsteps came to a stop just outside the room.

"Hello, have any of you seen a snake come through here?" a voice came through the door. "I ran into one in the forest, but it got away before I could catch it."

Temari and Kankuro seemed suitably freaked out when the realization struck that these words were almost certainly directed at them, even if the tone of the one speaking sounded quite harmless and gentle. Sasuke and Sakura, in contrast, smiled knowingly.

A male voice muttered something venomous about underhanded tactics, and a deeper voice chimed in with a vaguely passive aggressive comment.

"Hello, Hinata!" chirped Sakura, leaning up to the door. "I'm afraid to say that we haven't seen hide or scale of any snakes, though Naruto sensed your run-in earlier. He was in a real tizzy over it, actually; our little buddy got really torn up over or not whether to run over and help you out."

Hinata Hyuuga – the unseen speaker – giggled at this.

"He did, did he?" she said, sounding pleasantly amused. "Oh, that Naruto... what am I ever going to do with him?" Another laugh. "Although he does make a very dashing knight in shining armor, I must admit. He could probably help me track the snake down, too, but it looks like he and... ah, Gaara-san, was it? ...well, it seems those two are busy having a heart-to-heart chat, at the moment. I'd rather not interrupt."

Sasuke hummed thoughtfully.

"I see," he said, ignoring Kankuro and Temari's flabbergasted expressions. "And by 'heart-to-heart', you mean...?"

There was a brief pause.

"He's giving Gaara and Shukaku a sermon on friendship while Kurama holds them down," Hinata finally answered.

Sasuke and Sakura gave a sympathetic wince.

"Ah, that's what you mean," said the latter.

"I almost feel sorry for the poor bastards," mused the former.

Temari and Kankuro gaped disbelievingly. Sharing a look, they simultaneously voiced the only statement they could actually consciously formulate in response to these recent, wildly unbelievable statements.

"What."

Chapter Text

Gaara wasn't sure where, exactly, he was. Before his eyes a vast and seemingly endless plane of white stretched out, so pure and clear that he could find no distinction between the firmament above and the ground (or at least he thought it was the ground) below. There was no telling where one ended and the other began, no clear horizon or terminating line.

It was enough to give a lesser person vertigo, though Gaara was either sure enough in his sense of balance to trust that he wouldn't suddenly tumble and fall into what he thought was the sky, or else so damn estranged from reality that he didn't give a rat's ass one way or another.

Gaara wasn't quite sure how he had arrived in this place. The last thing he remembered was the grinning face of that obnoxious blond, before hands of golden flame swept aside his sand shield and wrapped around his body. Somehow Naruto had gotten past his defenses and pinned him down without breaking a sweat.

Yet... he didn't feel like he was being held in place, here – wherever here may have been. He was free to move his arms and legs, although he hesitated to do so. A part of him worried, maybe, that if he moved from this spot he would get swiftly lost and become unable to return whence he had come. An irrational fear, perhaps... or perhaps not.

He had no way to be certain.

"Is this a genjutsu?" he wondered aloud, his voice surly and gruff, still freshly remembering how a certain Konoha ninja had so effortlessly evaded his killing move.

"Not really," came the unexpected answer, and Gaara stiffened at the sound of this voice.

He whipped his head around to see a man with short, spiky blond hair and whisker marks on his cheeks, a man who looked almost like a grown up Naruto Uzumaki...

...a man who just so happened to be seated atop the head of a monstrous, nine-tailed youko which had its massive, clawed and furry hands clasped together in a perverse mimicry of prayer. It was a mildly surreal sight, even by the standards of the ninja world.

Gaara blinked. His eyes closed for only the briefest moment.

When they reopened, he found himself back in the hall once more, held in place by those inexplicable hands of chakra. The shift was not at all disorienting, oddly enough, and the giant fox monster was no longer anywhere to be seen. He felt a pricking in his forehead, though, and a violent thrumming beneath his seal.

Shukaku was pissed.

Dimly, Gaara noticed that his sand was lying uselessly on the ground. He tried commanding it to move, but it didn't respond. Not so much as a grain was budged, no matter how adamantly he willed otherwise.

"Yeah, your jutsu's not gonna work," Naruto spoke up. "I'm jamming it for the time being, otherwise we'd never be able to have a civil conversation."

Gaara stared at the other boy, disbelief evident in the infinitesimal widening of his eyes.

"Jamming?" he repeated. His tone would have been skeptical if he hadn't just spent the last few seconds quite fruitlessly trying to move even the single, slightest mote of his sand.

"Yeah," Naruto said easily. "Don't worry, it's only temporary – like I said earlier, I just want to talk. That would be kind of difficult to do with you trying to kill me."

Gaara's expression darkened. "I have no interest in talking," he growled.

"Well, that's just fine." Naruto waved a hand airily. "All I really need for you to do is sit there and hear me out, and I'm sure you can do at least that much."

A stony face was his only response. The blond smiled coolly, undeterred, and continued on.

"See, now, I know you've been having a hard time of things, Gaara," he said, meeting the redhead's eyes. "I get where you're coming from. I know what it's like when people refuse to acknowledge your existence. Believe me: I've been there, done that, and bought that T-shirt. It's painful, and it can be so hard to make sense of things. Feeling like you don't have any reason to exist..."

He trailed off, staring grimly into the middle distance. Gaara stared blankly at Naruto, apparently determined not to betray any emotion on his face. One of his fingers twitched, as though reflexively trying once more to command his sand, but otherwise he did nothing.

"...well, nothing good ever comes out of that kinda thinking. People will gladly do any number stupid, irrational, horrible things if they think it might somehow validate their existence. When a person is at such a low point that life seems completely meaningless, they get desperate, afraid. I've seen good, kind-hearted folks fall in with the worst sorts in an attempt to belong; I've seen people who've been hurt too many times try to push away everyone around them."

Naruto paused, stepping forward and placing a hand on the Suna genin's shoulder.

"Neither of those is a healthy response, Gaara."

Shukaku's jinchuuriki couldn't help flinching at the contact, and the words which accompanied it. He glared at Naruto, eyes cold and steely.

"What do you know?" he growled.

"A lot of things," Naruto said with a dismissive shrug. "Like how your mother really DID love you."

Those words elicited an immediate response from Gaara, one which Naruto probably expected. Turquoise eyes flashed venomously, and an arm came up in a sudden movement, breaking free of Kurama's grasp for the briefest of moments.

A fist collided with Naruto's nose, digging into his face with an ugly crunching sound. The blond took it without flinching, looking unblinkingly into Gaara's eyes. He did not step back or look away.

"Ow," Naruto commented once Gaara withdrew his fist, blood pouring from his nose like a faucet. "Da's a helluba right hook."

He gently grasped Gaara's fist and guided it down back to the redhead's side, where the redhead let it hang limply. With his other hand Naruto casually grabbed his nose and yanked it back into alignment, pinching the bridge for a moment to stem the bleeding.

Gaara stared blankly, shivering a little as he realized what he had just done. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually lashed out at someone with his bare hands, if he had ever even done so ONCE in all his life.

He blinked owlishly, looking absently down at his fist. He could see a bit of drying blood on his knuckles.

"I punched you," he said faintly, his voice a hint tremulous.

"Ng... Yup, that you did," Naruto said, snorting crudely and spitting a mouthful of blood, snot, and spit onto the floor beside him. He made a face, then, crossing his eyes and doing something that might have been an attempt to wiggle his nose. "Does this look like it's healed straight to you?"

Gaara stared at Naruto, who was pointing to his nose. It honestly looked a tiny bit crooked, although certainly not enough to raise a big fuss over. At a loss for what else to say, and still a bit in shock over actually having resorted to physically punching someone, Gaara weakly shook his head.

Naruto frowned at this for a moment, before grinning and giving a shrug.

"Oh, well, I suppose I can have Sakura re-break it for me later," he said dismissively. Once more he screwed up his face and looked cross-eyed down his nose. "Damn, still can't wiggle it."

"Were you able to before?" Gaara heard himself ask. He felt a touch lightheaded.

"Nah," Naruto said, "but I figured getting it broken might have given me the ability. You never know, right?"

The absurdity of this comment combined with the perfectly serious way Naruto had said it left Gaara once more at a loss for words. Again, the redhead look down at his fist, the knuckles of which were dyed with the same dull, flaking red as Naruto's upper lip. He curled and uncurled his fingers, curiously flexing them.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken hoarsely, uncertainly, his voice sounding like the hinges of a long unused door being tentatively creaked open for the first time in decades. Gaara almost didn't realize that he was the one speaking, the halfhearted apology coming tumbling out of his mouth seemingly of its own accord.

His knuckles twinged strangely as he unconsciously flexed his fingers again, and the redhead winced, his other hand coming up to clasp his bloodied fist. He looked stunned, disbelieving at the strange sensation which was shooting through his hand. It was jarring, and his teeth grit together as his breath came out in a hiss.

Naruto laughed, seeing the almost horrified expression on Gaara's face. "Your fist hurt?" he asked casually. "Eheh... Sorry 'bout that, man. Sasuke's always said I have a hard head..."

He gave another laugh at this little joke.

Gaara whipped his head up to stare at Naruto.

"...hurt...?" he whispered, parroting the word curiously. "Is this... pain?"

Naruto leaned in close and looked at Gaara's fist. With all the delicacy of a child brandishing a stick, he poked his fellow jinchuuriki's blood-stained knuckles. Gaara yelped and recoiled at this touch, leaning as far from Naruto as he could while still restrained by those giant, glowing hands. There was a touch of something wild and frightened in the redhead's eyes.

"Yeah, I'd reckon that's pain all right," Naruto concluded, nodding seriously. "No surprise, really, with how hard you punched me."

"I'm sorry," Gaara blurted out once more, startling himself even more than the jolt of pain which had just gone through his knuckles.

Naruto waved a hand airily, giving Gaara a toothy grin.

"Forget about it," he said dismissively. "Compared to Sakura-chan, that was barely even a love tap."

Gaara stared at Naruto like the blond was the most bizarre thing he had ever seen in his entire life – and that probably wasn't too far off the mark.

"B...But you're bleeding," he said, flabbergasted.

"And you aren't," Naruto said. "But that doesn't mean you're not hurting right now, does it?"

Somehow, Gaara got the impression that there was something very meaningful behind this statement, but he couldn't begin to imagine what that might be. He shook his head weakly, gingerly cradling his throbbing fist close to his chest.

"I don't understand you," he whispered. He grit his teeth. "I should hate you. You're my enemy. I hit you... you should be the one in pain... So, why am I hurting in here..." He clutched his chest with his uninjured hand, face contorting into something like a pained frown. "...as much as I am out here?" He raised his blood-covered fist.

"It's more real, isn't it?" Naruto said, looking into Gaara's eyes with that penetrating, unblinking stare of his. "When you hurt people with your sand, you can remove yourself from what you're doing and pretend it doesn't have any effect on you... but fists don't lie. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves just as much."

Gaara stared at Naruto, clutching his injured hand. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Naruto smiled sympathetically and squeezed Gaara's shoulder.

"This pains you more than it does me," he whispered. "I've gotten used to this kind of suffering, to physical pain. I've accepted it as a part of my life. Actions have consequences, and sometimes those consequences hurt. A lot. You can't run from the truth, Gaara. Your fist knows it — your heart knows it."

"Is... is it always like this...?" Gaara mumbled. His shoulders heaved. "Does it always hurt?"

"You've never hit someone before, have you?" Naruto said knowingly. Gaara shook his head.

"No... I've had my sand since I was born. My father taught me how to use it from the day I was old enough to walk. I can't remember ever not having it at my disposal, to protect me... and to hurt others."

"It gets easy to hurt people when you can't feel what you're doing to them," Naruto observed. "Sometimes I forget that myself... if you remove yourself from the act, throw a shuriken into their forehead from a distance, flick a kunai between their ribs without even looking them in the eye... well, it gets all too easy to distance yourself from the pain. To pretend it isn't there." He smiled softly, ruefully. "That doesn't make it alright, though. And there are times when you can't do anything to lie to yourself, when you have no choice but to break the enemy's body with your own two hands... to feel every blow you rain down on their form, and know exactly when their heartbeat stops. Seeing the light leave their eyes as pain surges through your body... it makes it real. I think that really drives home the gravity of it... the seriousness of taking a life."

Gaara swallowed, looking nervously into Naruto's eyes. He saw the sincerity in those pools, saw the light dull and lessen with the weight of grim recollection. Naruto's eyes fell. Following his gaze, Gaara found himself looking at the blond's hands.

Perhaps it was only a trick of the flickering, fluorescent lights, but for a moment Gaara could have sworn that he could see the blood staining those hands.

He looked back up into Naruto's eyes, feeling a strange, inexplicable kinship.

"You know what it's like," Gaara whispered. "The loneliness... You really know exactly what it's like, don't you...?"

Naruto smiled sadly.

"Like I said," he replied, "I've been there, done that, and bought that T-shirt." He grabbed the hem of his jacket, lifting both it and the shirt underneath.

Gaara stared at the spiral mark on the blond's abdomen, and the twin runic arcs which encased it. Arcane sealing scrit like frozen black flames seared into his skin formed eight radial spokes. He met Naruto's eyes, and understanding blossomed.

"We're the same," he whispered, scarcely daring to make the words audible.

Naruto nodded.

"I've had this seal since the day I was born," he murmured. "My mom died on the same day... when my dad sealed the Nine-Tailed Fox into my body."

Gaara's eyes widened at these words. He looked like his heart had suddenly stopped beating. Naruto smiled wryly.

"I don't think our circumstances are exactly the same... but it's striking, isn't it? My dad sealed the kyuubi into my body. He hoped it would make me strong. My mom... she didn't like that. She didn't want him to do it, and she tried to stop him, tried to convince him that there had to be another way.

"But there wasn't. For better or worse, it HAD to be done. My dad gave his life sealing Kurama inside me, and saved our village in the process. My mom died from her wounds, at the same time as my dad. Their last words..."

Naruto paused, sniffing once. His gaze was distant, filled with what Gaara could only describe as sorrowful nostalgia.

"...their last words were their wishes for me, their son... what they wanted for me, what hopes they had for my future... the things I reckon every parent feels a need to tell their children."

He smiled.

"I wonder if you've figured it out? I don't know how much they teach you in the Suna academy, as far as the recent history of other villages..."

Gaara met Naruto's eyes.

"The Fourth Hokage," he murmured. "Yes, even in the Sand, we know that story... and it seems that you and I have gone through many of the same ordeals. We suffered the same kind of loneliness, each in our own way." His expression hardened, then, and now he spoke with a touch of defiance. "But the reasons were different, as were the results. We are the same, but also nothing alike."

Naruto squinted at Gaara.

"I wonder about that..." he said, gingerly taking Gaara's injured fist in hand. He saw the redhead wince at the touch. "Something tells me that our dads' motivations were a lot more similar than you might like to admit. People hurt themselves when they hurt others. But weapons don't feel anything."

"Are you trying to tell me we're not weapons?" Gaara whispered, narrowing his eyes in turn. "Maybe... maybe I'm simply faulty. I know why I was created. I know why my father had this demon sealed inside me...! It was—"

"—to serve and protect the village," Naruto finished for Gaara, "right? That's the duty of all shinobi. Even the kage must give their life, if it will mean safety and prosperity for their people, and their village. That's their responsibility. Our responsibility. When I die, I intend to die as a man... as a proud shinobi of the Hidden Leaf... as the Lord Hokage, giving my life out of love for my home." He grinned toothily. "I think it'll be the same for you, Gaara. In fact, I know it will."

He clasped the redhead's shoulder. Gaara stared at Naruto, thunderstruck by the sincerity, the utter conviction behind this statement.

"You think I'll be Hokage?" he said weakly, the words spilling out half of their own accord.

Naruto laughed uproariously.

"Thanks, Gaara," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I needed that. Hehe... I guess our conversation was getting a little too heavy, there, wasn't it?"

Gaara flushed.

He... hadn't meant for that statement to come out like a joke.

"I, er, meant Kazekage," he halfheartedly insisted, looking almost sheepish as his usual stoic mask fell by the wayside.

Naruto smiled, clapping him on the back.

"Sure you did," he said with a wink. Then he added: "But, yes: I think you will. Deep down, I know you have all of the qualities a good kage needs. You just haven't realized it yet."

And with that, he walked past Gaara, humming cheerfully. With a start, the redhead realized that he was no longer restrained by the chakra hands – and he got a vague feeling that he hadn't been so bound for a fair while. Just when had they dispelled?

His finger twitched, and the sand at his feet responded.

Slowly shaking his head, Gaara paused for a moment, seeming uncertain. Hesitantly, he looked back over his shoulder at Naruto's retreating form. There was a burning question at the back of his mind, and if he didn't get an answer now, he knew somewhere deep inside that he would not forgive himself for a very long time.

"How..." he murmured hoarsely, swallowing and staring at Naruto's back. "...how can you be so sure my mother loved me?"

Naruto turned to look at Gaara; he was wearing a small yet brilliant smile.

"Because she was your mother," he said simply. "She might have hated your father, the village, the demon... even the circumstances of your birth... but she could never hate you. That's just how moms are, I think."

Gaara felt something catch in his throat, and his chest tightened uncomfortably. A hot pressure built up behind his eyes, and moisture began to stream down his cheeks, yet he somehow found it in himself to smile.

"Thank you," he whispered.

His fist dully ached, and tears stung at his eyes, but Gaara could not remember the last time he had felt this happy. Even Shukaku didn't dare to sully the moment.

"Okay, seriously? That was sooo gay."

...well, not too much, at least.

Kurama was of the honest opinion that, most of the time, he was the only vaguely intelligent entity in the universe. Obviously humans were all halfwits, but Kurama was quite accustomed to their idiocy. He'd had enough experience with the foibles and failings of mortal men that he knew better than too expect too much out of them.

Their stupidity could even be a little endearing at times, if he were to be honest with himself. Kurama, despite all his unknowable age and immeasurable power, had a certain weakness for underdogs – and were not humans, with their soft and delicate bodies, short and fleeting lifespans, and woefully limited senses and power, practically the very definition of underdogs? Most definitely, when matched against beings on his level.

Humans who could go up against him despite knowing that it would almost certainly mean forfeiting their lives were most admirable, in the Kurama's opinion. People like Minato Namikaze garnered a fair deal of respect from the Nine-Tails. Anyone with the guts to fight against the impossible was worth high praise, as far as he was concerned.

So perhaps humans were idiots, but they were the sorts of idiots you could find yourself wanting to root for. As long as they weren't like Madara or Hashirama.

But Kurama could accept that humans were usually imbeciles. They had a lot working against them, after all – not least of which being their dreadfully short lifespans, such that even those few who did manage to acquire something akin to wisdom would invariably pass away in only a few short decades, and most likely be replaced by yet another dime-a-dozen yokel or slack-jawed dumbass.

Much harder to swallow, however, was the knowledge that oftentimes his own siblings were just as pants-on-head retarded as the humans they were so unfairly forced to inhabit. Shukaku was living proof of this.

...or at least inasmuch as a giant, sentient mass of chakra could really be considered 'alive'. That was a point which philosophers and scientists could debate to their hearts' content – particularly since bijuu couldn't die so much as dissipate, and even then they would inevitably reconstitute after a certain length of time. But the fact that Shukaku was a mentally subnormal psychopath was indisputable.

Or so Kurama would have one believe.

"You do know that your friend is going to regress the instant my 'esteemed brother' is able to get in a couple hours of uninterrupted ranting, right?" the kyuubi drawled within his host's mind, resting his chin on folded claws. "Shukaku won't give an inch without being beaten within an inch of his life. That lunatic's even worse about humans than I used to be, and I was once known as the physical embodiment of hatred."

"You still are, in this time," Naruto quipped under his breath. "And don't worry about Shukaku; Gaara was able to pretty much handle him for the three years between our battle during the Sand-Sound invasion and when he finally got de-bijuu'd by our cloaked friends, wasn't he? He's more resilient than you might expect, Kurama."

"That lecture of yours only sank in the last time around because Shukaku had been too drained from physically manifesting to badger Gaara in those first few days after the invasion. If the sand-rat has his way, your little buddy won't have so much as a single moment of silence in which to contemplate your words."

"You're assuming Shukaku will have a single moment of silence in which to pester Gaara, though," Naruto replied with a twinkle in his eye.

Kurama didn't see his host's expression, but he could feel the all-too familiar undercurrent of nearly vulpine mischief in the man-turned-boy's words. That tone never boded well for those who were foolhardy enough to oppose the one true master of mayhem and chicanery.

He chuckled, tilting his head sideways in the open space of the sealscape.

"Ah... So you're already working on that, are you?"

Naruto waved a hand with flourish.

"Just because I'd gotten used to having Shikamaru's brains at my disposal doesn't mean I can't still plan on my own," he said airily. "I'm not THAT stupid."

With a grin, he tapped his temple and sent a bit of chakra into the place where his mind and his father's seal met and blended together. Composition and hue were carefully chosen, an intuitive blending of simpler paints to create a precise and particular pigment which he daubed ever so deliberately in place.

Kurama grinned, recognizing the signal, and he proceeded to inconspicuously open the specific telepathic link between himself and the One-Tailed Tanuki. Naruto began to hum an infectiously upbeat-sounding tune, and Kurama 'overheard' the garbled lyrics his host was beginning to mentally project to Shukaku.

'fumikomu ze akuseru... kakehiki wa nai sa, sou dayo...
yoru wo nukeru...
nejikomu sa saigo ni... sashihiki zero sa, sou dayo...
hibi wo kezuru...'

He snickered, recognizing the tactic as both underhanded and deceptively subtle. So much so that no one who wasn't intimately familiar with how the Seventh Hokage worked would actually suspect it to be his doing.

Even bijuu were not immune to getting songs stuck in their heads.

"When you open your heart a little, and pull someone close to you... Your feelings will surely reach them deeper, yeah..."

Gaara cocked his head, wondering faintly if Shukaku had finally cracked. One moment the demon-priest had been ranting right in his metaphorical ear about all the ways in which Naruto was a sentimental fool who wasn't even worth the sand it would take to crush him, and the next he had suddenly gone quiet.

"Hurry it up... Wring it out... Though my legs are all tangled, they will surely take me far... Even if I steal it and manage to grasp it, if it isn't you then what's the point...?"

That wasn't the strangest part, of course. After a moment of silence from the bijuu, Shukaku had then started to hum. Gaara had NEVER heard Shukaku hum. Ever.

"So I'll go far into the distance... And your world will become a thing of deceit painted all in white..."

And now, if the aforementioned hadn't been enough, the Ichibi was also apparently speaking complete gibberish. Vaguely meaningful gibberish, perhaps, but gibberish nonetheless.

It was still infinitely preferable to the beast's usual raving, mind, no matter how used to all of that Gaara may have been, so he didn't afford the matter too much thought. This innocuous, vaguely musical-sounding babble faded much more easily into the background than demands for bloodshed, or threats to devour his soul the instant he allowed his guard to drop.

"Hit the gas, there's no need to finagle, oh yeah... We'll go all through the night... Complain at the end, the balance is zero, oh yeah... We'll whittle the days away..."

Plus it was kind of catchy, if he were to be perfectly honest.

Quite a ways away in the Land of Wind, the Lord Fourth Kazekage, Rasa of the Gilded Sands, was NOT having a good day. He was pacing in his office and running his hands through sandy blond hair, his brow furrowed from stress. He had postponed all meetings until further notice, that morning, saying in no uncertain terms that the first person to interrupt him could kiss their shinobi career goodbye.

He stared intently, his face ashen and tightly drawn, at a sheet of paper clutched in his hand. It was creased and crinkled, having been folded and unfolded many times over, clenched between his fingers in a firm and steady grasp which did little to overtly betray the worry he felt in the pit of his stomach.

Words were written on the paper in a hand that was both precise yet untidy, a brief but somewhat troubling message scrawled sharply down in black ink.

'Orochimaru is not trustworthy. He will kill you the instant you are of no further use to him. Play into his hands, and you will not live to see the invasion of Konoha.'

Seeing that he had found this letter on his pillow that morning, was it any wonder the Lord Kazekage should feel concerned by its contents?

Really, it was bad enough that someone who wasn't Baki or one of his advisors apparently knew of Rasa's plans to ally his village with Orochimaru – and he knew it hadn't come from them, because it did not match any of their handwriting samples – but for them to warn him in so forthright a manner of potential treachery?

He ran his hands through his hair, silently fretting. Outside his window, he saw the village ANBU going through triple their usual daily security exercises, half in punishment for the incompetence which allowed this letter to reach where he slept in the first place (if whoever delivered that letter had been an assassin, Suna would have found itself short one Kazekage this morning, and a mere month before the planned invasion of Konoha at that) and half to make sure that something like this wouldn't happen a second time.

Rasa felt acutely miserable as he contemplated the letter's contents.

Might the note be an earnest warning from a disgruntled servant of the snake summoner? Or perhaps an attempt to sow additional distrust and sabotage the budding alliance between the Sand and Sound? It was no secret to him that Orochimaru was the founder and leader of the Hidden Sound village, and where there were any number of people acting under one banner, it would only be natural for dissident or rebellious elements to eventually take root.

The letter might have also been planted by a Konoha spy. Orochimaru was a renegade from that village, and his activities would naturally be of interest to the Hokage... or even certain other powers within the Leaf. And again, this message could either be an earnest warning, or an attempt to sabotage an alliance between Suna and Oto.

It would, of course, be worrying if this letter really had come from anyone affiliated with the Leaf... if there was even the slightest chance that Konoha agents might have gotten wind of the invasion plan, he would need to reconsider everything. Right now, it seemed very likely that those plans would have to be called off. He took pride in his village's counter-intelligence department, but ignoring the possibility of a leak or plant somewhere in the village's forces would be downright foolish. Especially when it would need to be quite high up, for the fact of Orochimaru's participation to be known.

Unless the man himself had planted that note as some sort of twisted test. Rasa could not discount this possibility, either. Orochimaru was renowned as a formidable shinobi, as much for his mastery of the ninja arts as for his duplicitous cunning. There was no telling what the man might be thinking, and it seemed entirely plausible that this letter might be from Orochimaru – to what end, Rasa could not begin to fathom, but he didn't trust the snake summoner any further than he could throw him.

And of course he was wary of Orochimaru – Rasa would have to have been a fool not to be, and a fool would not have made it very far as Kazekage. He was used to looking over his shoulder and expecting a knife in the back at any moment, and he was not ignorant to the supposed curse on the position of Kazekage. All three of his predecessors had died at the hands of assassins (although the Sandaime's body had never been found, it was generally accepted that he must have been killed) and the Lord Fourth had always been cautious just in case he wound up falling victim to the same fate.

He knew that if anyone was capable of assassinating him, it would be Orochimaru of the Sannin. This had been a small part of his reasoning for entering into the secret alliance with Oto in the first place. Rasa was a formidable shinobi, but strength in battle was little use if caught off guard, and he held no illusions as to the ability of his ANBU to keep someone as subtle and devious as Orochimaru out of his bedchambers; all it would take would be a poisoned dagger between the ribs while he slept.

In its current state, Suna simply did not have the power to defend itself should someone like Orochimaru decide to destroy it. Where Konoha was strong and populated by many active shinobi, the Hidden Sand had been floundering and diminishing with only a small, inconstant trickle of new blood against the slow but steady ebb of time and chance. If Rasa displeased Orochimaru, odds were very good that the man would simply kill him and destroy his village – or worse.

Rasa did not trust Orochimaru, but attempting to defy the serpent shinobi would quite likely do more harm than good for his forces. Rasa was strong, but Orochimaru was a monster in human form. There were too many factors, too many possibilities to risk trying to put the snake down by his own strength, and there were too few in Suna with the ability to aid him against such an opponent. Baki was the finest of his generation, second only to Rasa himself, but he would still be outclassed by someone like Orochimaru.

Most of Suna's strongest shinobi were, in a touch of bitter irony, far too old and decrepit to be of any help. Lady Chiyo and her brother, for example, once two of the finest puppetmasters in all the land, were nearing dotage in their advanced age. They were still capable enough, perhaps, to tackle merely competent shinobi, but against one of the Sannin they were simply far too weary and enfeebled by the march of time to possibly compare.

Honestly, allying with Orochimaru hadn't been much of a choice. Damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. The Fourth Kazekage hated those sorts of conundrums.

But putting all of that aside, he could not ignore the possibility of a leak somewhere in his village. This letter was worrying. If there was even a tiniest chance that this message might have come from the Hidden Leaf, or any other party outside of Suna and Oto, it would have to be assumed that their plans had been discovered. Rasa hadn't led his village through these difficult time by being incautious – he took risks when he felt it was absolutely necessary, but persisting in the plan to invade Konoha when there was a possibility that their security had been compromised would be nothing short of unforgivable foolhardiness.

Sighing, and hoping that Orochimaru would not take umbrage at this turn of events, Rasa sat down behind his desk and reluctantly fetched his calligraphy set plus a sheet of paper. In a dense and triply redundant code, he began writing a communique to his co-conspirator.

Orochimaru,

I find myself in the unenviable position of having to inform you of a possible leak of information regarding certain plans which had been made by certain unnamed parties...

It was not a good day to be Kazekage.

OMAKE:

meanwhile, elsewhere

o0o0o0o

Briefly, Kakashi wondered how his students were doing. Sure, they probably wouldn't have any real trouble with this exam based on the sort of skill they'd been displaying ever since their first day as genin, but that didn't mean he couldn't ponder just how far they might have gotten already.

He didn't know the exact details of the second phase, but he was aware that the test was taking place in the Forest of Death, and being proctored by Anko. That alone would have been enough to make him worry for his students' lives... had he been saddled with literally any other team.

As it was, he just hoped they'd take it easy on the other competitors. Especially their fellow Konoha rookies.

He'd bet a rather tidy sum on those kids making it past the second stage of the exams.

o0o0o0o

Asuma and Kurenai probably would have been fretting over their respective teams' own chances in the Forest of Death, had they not been so preoccupied with eating each other's faces off. They really weren't very subtle about the fact that they were an item, despite the fact that both of them made a living as elite ninja.

It probably would have been considered an embarrassment to their profession if literally every other shinobi couple ever hadn't been exactly the same way.

(Poor Obito had never been the same after walking in on his sensei and Kushina)

o0o0o0o

Anko took one look at the faceless corpses before spinning on her heel and letting out a string of curses a hundred times too vile for transcription. Ibiki gave her a sympathetic look that to the uneducated observer would have seemed like a slightly constipated glower.

"You okay, Anko?" he said, concern for his friend obvious in his voice.

"No, dammit," the snake summoner swore. "Orochimaru's in that forest, three foreign genin are dead on Konoha soil – and knowing my luck, they were probably killed before they could actually sign the liability waivers – and the Chuunin Exams are probably gonna be canceled, meaning all of that lengthy preparatory work we had to do will amount to precisely jack shit."

Ibiki grimaced.

"It does sound pretty bad when you put it like that," he commented.

"I know, right?" Anko muttered. "And all of this after learning that the coffee machine in the lounge is busted." She shook her head. "I knew I should have gone back to bed after reading today's horoscope. Nothing but trouble across the board."

She sighed.

"I'm gonna need a fucking drink before this day is over."

"Ditto," Ibiki said with a nod.

o0o0o0o

Neji glowered at the young blonde who had just untied her ponytail. An eye twitched when he realized that she was trying to seducehim. Him!

The girl didn't look like she could be any older than twelve or thirteen, and the thought of her successfully seducing anyone was just ridiculous (even if he himself was only a year or so her senior, probably). But the girl didn't seem to have gotten this memo. Her body language displayed an apparent surety in the success of her tactic, that there was no way Neji could possibly resist her wiles.

The girl's two teammates looked considerably less confident, and were glancing nervously from the blonde to Neji. The pony-tailed one looked like he would desire nothing more than to lie down somewhere and take a nap. The chubby one was shaking in his sandals, visibly itching to either hide or run for cover.

Neji sighed and wearily turned his back on the trio.

I don't have time for this shit.

o0o0o0o

"Lee... who is that?"

Tenten stared at her teammate and raised a hand to point somewhat rudely at the redhead who was blushing and shooting doe eyes at the bowl-cut taijutsu specialist, following a few inches behind him. The weapon mistress's bushy browed cohort grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

"This is Karin-chan!" he said enthusiastically. "She was separated from her teammates, and so I have offered to help her reunite with them!"

Tenten felt a migraine coming on. Despite all experience, she had to state the obvious.

"And you didn't even stop to consider that this might be some kind of trap?" she muttered, mired in disbelief at how trusting that boy could be.

Lee beamed.

"Of course not!" he said. "Karin-chan is a sweet, honest girl. You can tell that just by looking at her, can't you?"

Karin swooned. Tenten facepalmed.

"Oh, Lee-kun~" the former giggled, batting her eyelashes sweetly.

"Oh, for the love of..." sighed the latter. "I don't even know where to begin."

o0o0o0o

Karin's teammates looked at each other.

"Any idea where Karin could be?"

"Not a goddamn clue."

The first one sighed.

"Fucking figures."

The second one nodded.

"I know, right?"

o0o0o0o

Kabuto frowned, looking at the message a small gardener snake had just regurgitated into his palm. Yoroi and Tsurugi were walking behind him, the bodies of an unfortunate Konoha team pinned to the trees behind them by scores of bloody throwing weapons. The one wearing sunglasses was lazily tossing a heaven scroll up and down.

"'Code Delta Orange: worse than worst case scenario. Gone into hiding; save your own damn ass.' What on earth is that supposed to mean?" he muttered, perplexed.

"Maybe it's a code?" Yoroi suggested. "He could be giving us instructions on... our mission."

"Or maybe it's exactly what it sounds like," Tsurugi interjected. "The shit's hit the fan, and now it's every man for himself. Seems pretty simple to me."

Kabuto rolled his eyes.

"Charming," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"I try."

o0o0o0o

Chapter Text

By the time the second stage of the Chuunin Exams came to an end, five more teams had passed. Aside from the Sand team and squads Seven and Eight, there were three more teams from the Leaf, and now one each from the Sound and Grass.

Nobody was surprised by the overwhelming home team advantage – that's how it usually worked out in the Chuunin Exams, due to a number of factors that only statisticians would find interesting. It was noteworthy that three of the Konoha teams had graduated only just that year, and even one of the others had only one more year of experience than they. This much, at least, was quite contrary to what most would have expected, even if many of those rookies were clan heirs with great potential.

It was a bit disappointing to the Amegakure contingent that none of their own had passed, but no big fuss was raised. Those who'd dropped out of the first phase or survived the second would have another shot at promotion in six months time. A few of the representatives from Rain would privately commiserate over those they'd known who were lost in the Forest of Death – of particular note being Team Shigure, whose bodies had been found in a state too gruesome for open casket burial – but as most of the participants had been older, more experienced genin they were able to accept these casualties as an inevitable facet of their lifestyle, and a very real risk for all of them.

It was noticed that two of the eight teams to pass the second phase were from minor villages – six out of twenty-four genin, which was honestly a little below the expected ratio. Of course, those who were in the know realized that preliminaries would almost certainly need to be held in order the keep the third stage down to a manageable length, so these numbers were liable to change. An unusual (but not unprecedented) circumstance.

Hayate Gekko quietly wheezed into his fist as he surveyed the assembled genin from a shadowed alcove, listening absentmindedly as the Lord Third explained the true purpose of the Chuunin Exams. For most of these kids it would probably be their first time hearing this, and the Hokage did quite a fine job of emphasizing the callousness of shinobi lifestyle. It was a good act on the Sandaime's part, convincingly cold and stern enough to have the more sheltered genin wetting themselves, and even the Suna team seemed a bit put-off judging by how their female member spoke up in disbelief.

Still, while it was a nice speech, Hayate, the other proctors, and the jounin sensei had all heard it plenty of times before. He doubted that any of them were paying more than a perfunctory level of attention to the Lord Third's words. Even Hayate himself was just waiting for his cue to appear and announce the preliminaries.

No doubt some of the younger and more impetuous genin would be upset by this news (especially those who had only barely made it to the tower), but Hayate didn't particularly care what they thought. He'd gone through a good deal worse at their age, and anyway his thoughts were more focused on the hot bath and cold beer he'd be sharing with his girl when this day was over.

I wonder if she'll be wearing that negligee I got her for our anniversary? he dreamily mused, cheering himself up with thoughts of his lover in sheer, formfitting silk.

These preliminaries were sure to be a bore, but at least he had a fun night with Yugao to look forward to... assuming nothing came up that would require her attention, at any rate. Dealing with rowdy drunk foreigners rarely left her in the mood. Even less so when they were stupid enough to try copping a feel (regardless of whatever sorts of play she and her boyfriend might enjoy behind closed doors).

Hayate's train of thought was rudely cut off, though, when he heard the Hokage's next words.

"However, before the final phase of the exams can get underway..."

Ah, well. Time to break the news to the brats.

Turning on the spot, he flickered out of the alcove.

Sakura wasn't really listening as the sword-bearing jounin and the Hokage explained why they would need to hold a preliminary round to pare down the participants for the final stage of the exams. She had already figured as much the second she saw how many teams had passed the second phase, and presently the pinkette was rather more absorbed in her attempt to put a name to each of the faces she saw.

Her fellow rookies were easy enough, of course, as were the members of Team Guy (although it was weird to see Neji alive and well after so many years, even if there were loads of other once-dead people walking around) – and obviously Gaara and his siblings, too.

But the remaining three teams were somewhat harder to place.

She recognized Kabuto right away, of course, and it had only taken her a few seconds to register that bespectacled redhead as Naruto's so-distant-they-had-never-actually-bothered-to-determine-their-exact-relation cousin. The pair's respective teammates were basically unknown to her, though – she vaguely recalled Kabuto's team participating in what she remembered of the preliminaries last time around, but the only thing about them that stood out in her memory was the fact that one of them had fought Sasuke.

She dimly recalled being very worried about her now-husband's well being at that time (it was just a little while after he'd gotten that curse mark... right?) and that his opponent had done something or other that had made her seriously fear for Sasuke, but aside from that she was at a complete loss. She wasn't even entirely sure which one of the two had fought him.

Karin's teammates were a still bigger unknown. They didn't look like anything special; their manner of dress was more or less the same as the redhead's, in a general team coordination sort of way, and they didn't seem to have any obvious specialties. They were probably a couple years the girl's senior, and each stood almost a full head taller than her, but aside from that they didn't look too remarkable.

Really, both of them seemed very ordinary, almost generic. They weren't especially good-looking, although they appeared reasonably well-built, and neither one had any particularly distinguishing features. They were people who would probably blend into a crowd with zero difficulty, with the kind of faces you might see on unimportant background characters in a manga or anime.

Lastly were the Sound ninja. Sakura recognized them somewhat, but her memories of the trio were distant, faint. Dosu Kinuta, Zaku Abumi, and Kin Tsuchi. In another time, they would have tried to kill Sasuke in the Forest of Death, and in protecting him she herself would resolve to stand side-by-side with her teammates as an equal and a true shinobi.

So she figured they probably weren't too important this time around.

With the exposition out of the way, the preliminaries could officially begin. And an algorithm of moderate complexity proceeded to randomly select a pair of numerical values arbitrarily assigned to two separate competitors.

Kiba Inuzuka vs. Sasuke Uchiha

Sasuke smiled when he saw his name come up on the computer monitor.

"Well, looks like I'm up first," he remarked.

"Huh. Déjà vu," Naruto muttered, seeing Kiba's name displayed across from his teammate's. "Looks like they've randomized the selection."

He definitely didn't fight Kiba last time, the blond added mentally. In fact, I'm pretty sure I fought Kiba.

"Ah, yes," Kurama said, an undertone of amusement in his voice. "I remember that fight, although the sluice in our old seal had been effectively stoppered by Orochimaru's Gogyou Fuuin. That was a rather... memorable victory, on your part."

It took Naruto a moment to remember the details of that match, but when he did he scowled inwardly, catching the meaning behind the fox's snide tone. It wasn't every day that one created an opening for their finishing blow by breaking wind in the opponent's face, after all.

Sakura squeezed Sasuke's hand, not privy to the conversation her other teammate was having with the bijuu in his gut. She smiled at her husband, leaning in close to whisper.

"Do go easy on him, eh dear? Kiba's an okay guy, once you get past all the bragging."

Sasuke rolled his eyes at this, but he still nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, looking distinctly miffed. "Honestly, though... as if I'd ever actually bother going all out against an opponent of his level..."

The fact that he happened to say this well within hearing distance of his electronically selected foe may or may not have been a mere coincidence, but the effect was the same either way. Kiba bristled at this apparent dismissal and grit his teeth. A fire was lit in the Inuzuka's belly, and he leaped down into the arena with a stubbornly defiant shout, Akamaru riding in his hood.

Kurenai put a hand to her forehead and let out a sigh, exasperated to see just how easily her student was riled. Hinata chortled in quiet amusement, clasping her hands and wishing Kiba luck (to which he replied, "I don't need it! I'll kick his ass with pure ability!") and Shino simply shook his head, silently settling in to watch the fight.

Sasuke strolled leisurely down into the arena, yawning boredly and taking his sweet time. Kiba grew more implacable with every second he waited for his foe, and he shot several venomous looks at the cocky Uchiha. At last, though, Sasuke was in the fighting area. The contestants stood opposite one another, waiting for the fight to begin.

Hayate, after briefly explaining the rules of engagement for the preliminaries, brought his hand down to signal the start of the match. Kiba and Sasuke stayed in place for a moment, a classic stare down between two warriors – only one of whom actually looked interested in fighting.

"It's about time someone took you down a peg," Kiba quipped, raising a clenched fist. "You might have been hot stuff back in the academy, but this is the realworld. Test scores don't mean crap anymore."

Sasuke laughed. "The academy?" he said, rolling his eyes. "Please, that might as well have been a lifetime ago. I'd say you're the one who hasn't seen the real world yet."

Having said his piece, Sasuke then slipped easily into a defensive combat stance. His eyes were dark, sharingan inactive. A declaration of confidence if ever there was one.

"Grr... Don't screw with me, jackass! I'll beat you black and blue, and then we'll see who's the better ninja!" snarling these words, Kiba threw the first punch.

Sasuke twitched sideways, dodging the blow with the least amount of movement necessary. He smirked at his opponent, his eyes speaking for him.

Is that all you've got?

Kiba snapped. What followed was a short but thorough exhibition of every possible punch, kick, and strike the Inuzuka could muster... not a single one of which managed to touch even one hair on his opponent's person. Sasuke didn't retaliate once, but it was obvious that he was controlling the flow of the match.

"Dammit, you bastard!" Kiba shouted in frustration, a furious left jab missing by a mile. "Stand still so I can hit you!"

"I am standing still," Sasuke drawled, easily leaning out of the way of a sloppy (by his standards) right hook. "I haven't once moved my feet from the starting position, but it seems you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if you were thrown at it."

Kiba growled and sprang back, putting a few paces of distance between himself and Sasuke. He whistled for Akamaru and reached a hand into his supply pouch.

"That's it!" he said. "No more pulling punches! It's time for you to roll over and play DEAD!" He withdrew his hand from the pouch, holding two soldier pills. One, he tossed to Akamaru. The other, he made to pop into his own mouth.

The pills never reached either destination. Almost as soon as the medicine had left his hands, Sasuke caught the pills and crushed them, moving so quickly that most of the people in the room (including a few of the medics and less talented jounin sensei) didn't even see him until a second after he'd prevented Kiba from using his secret weapon.

It took the other lad another second longer than that to realize what had just happened. He jumped and swore, startling and falling back when he realized how close to him Sasuke was suddenly standing.

"Christ!" he yelped. "When did you—?!"

"A while ago," Sasuke blithely replied, now standing behind Kiba. "You're just too slow to follow my movements."

Again the Inuzuka cursed, but this time instead of trying to put more distance between him and his opponent, he spun around and brought up his elbow, intending to smash it into his foe. Had the blow struck home, it would have caught Sasuke in the throat and probably done some serious damage.

But it never landed. Sasuke caught the attack with his one good hand, using Kiba's momentum and a bit of leverage to flip his opponent onto the ground. His fingers subsequently twitched, and before Kiba could even groan in pain a dozen some shuriken were embedded into the floor around him, tracing an unnervingly close outline of his body.

"Dammit," Kiba groaned. "Even after all this work... the gap between us has still only widened? I guess there's a reason you were our year's number one rookie..."

Sasuke waved a hand dismissively.

"Academy rankings are a thing of the past," he said airily. "They have no bearing on our present ability. Really, though, you lost this fight the moment you let your temper get away from you. Ninja must be able to restrain their emotions... or else at least learn to function efficiently in spite of them."

"Yeah, about that... Quick question," Kiba grunted. "Does pride count as an emotion?"

A smirk crossed the Inuzuka's face. In the same instant, Sasuke felt a set of small, needle-like teeth sink into his rear and rip the seat of his pants. He hissed and immediately tore Kiba's partner off of his ass, irritably flinging the pup at its master's face.

Neither nin-ken nor ninja remained conscious following that collision. The smirk remained on Kiba's face, though. Sasuke glared at the insensate duo of master and pet, and shot Hayate a darkly expectant look.

With a cough, the swordsman announced Sasuke the winner.

Grumbling and gingerly rubbing his rump (half to cover the tear that final attack had made in his shorts) the one-armed genin stalked back up to the viewing level, where his team awaited. Perhaps it wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but Akamaru's parting shot still stung like a sumbitch.

Naruto had the decency not to snigger at Sasuke's discomfort, although amusement was still obvious in the glimmer of his eyes. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and shot him a toothy grin.

"Well, you pretty much dominated that fight!" he said, probably an attempt to assuage his pal's wounded dignity.

Sasuke gave the blond a mutinous look.

"This is the last time I give my opponent a chance to salvage their pride," he muttered, low enough that only his teammates would hear. "I can't believe I actually stood there and let that mutt bite me..."

Sakura patted him on the shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Want me to sew up your trousers?" she asked softly, soothingly. "I think Ino might be enjoying the view a little too much." She side-eyed the blonde in question, who was doing a very poor job of hiding the fact that she was unabashed ogling the ripped seat of the Uchiha's shorts.

Sasuke shook his head.

"No need," he grunted, flicking his hand into an odd seal. "A henge will do for now."

And as he said this, a puff of white smoke enveloped his body for an instant. When it dissipated seconds later, Sasuke stood in the same spot, his fingers still flexed into a one-handed approximation of the ram seal. The only change in his appearance was the fact that his shorts now appeared to be completely unmarred.

Ino pouted, but Shikamaru and Chouji looked relieved.

...at least until the latter's name came up on the screen.

Chouji Akimichi vs. Naruto Uzumaki

Kakashi wasn't paying too much attention to the proceedings down in the arena. A careworn copy of Icha Icha Violence was clutched in his hands, his one visible eye flicking intently over every character printed onto the novel's pages. He gave Naruto a perfunctory nod when the blond made to go down to the arena, absentmindedly noting that two of his students were going one right after the other, before pondering whether or not to give Sasuke a brief lecture on situational awareness.

After a moment's thought, he discarded that idea. Listening idly to his remaining students' hushed chatter, he got the impression that Sasuke had consciously let that last attack hit him. Certainly, at least, the boy seemed to mutter "Better be grateful I didn't completely shatter the mutt's pride..." and similar comments with a relative frequency as Sakura patted him on the shoulder and whispered sweet, reassuring nothings into his ear.

If this wasn't merely bluster on Sasuke's part, then it had been a rather magnanimous gesture for him to stand there and let Akamaru bite him. These kids were smart. Kakashi had come to greatly appreciate that fact over the months that he'd been teaching them. Sure half the stuff out of their mouths seemed to consist of incomprehensible inside jokes and impenetrably oblique references he couldn't even begin to place, but they worked together like few teams Kakashi had ever seen.

He honestly didn't need to teach them much as far as teamwork exercises or practice drills. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura knew their stuff, and they handily aced every test he put before them. Perhaps Sasuke and Sakura tended to act a little cozier together than kids their age had any right, and maybe Naruto seemed to have a thing going on with the Hyuuga clan heiress that might have been very scandalous if he weren't technically a member of a clan every bit as old and powerful (albeit nearly extinct and with little to no remaining influence in Konoha) but Kakashi was not inclined to intervene in their personal lives. Not as long as they handled their duties in a healthy and professional manner.

And despite a number of quirks and eccentricities, he had to say that they did exactly that. Team Seven was probably the single most capable and synchronized genin squad since that period in between the second and third shinobi world wars when the Legendary Sannin had gotten themselves demoted for a week as punishment for interrupting their sensei's alone time with his wife – a tale Kakashi knew from his sensei, who had apparently extracted it from his sensei one night after an exceptionally long day of boozing and whoring on the Toad Sage's part.

Kakashi had to admit that he'd grown rather fond of his little monsters. Sure, there was practically no logical way to reconcile their present ability with their performance in the academy, and yeah they occasionally acted a bit dismissive of his rank, but damn it all there was just something likable about the trio. Against all odds, they had actually grown on him.

And in light of the mind boggling strength and ability he had seen them demonstrate on so many occasions, the Copy Ninja found himself daring to hope that these three would actually survive him.

That was a nice thought.

Of course, so was the prospect of a threesome with a buxom younger step sister and a nymphomaniacal, bespectacled childhood friend. So in spite of his internal monologue, most of Kakashi's mind was honesly focused on the contents of the book in his hand.

"Ohh, Beruto-kun❤" moaned Ranchi and Hinagiku. "Won't you please accept our feelings~? Mm, we want you so much..."

Kakashi giggled pervertedly, turning the page and letting himself become immersed in the graphically descriptive language and compellingly suggestive dialogue of the Toad Sage's infamously shameless smut.

It really wasn't a surprise when Naruto emerged victorious from his fight with Chouji. Hinata, Sasuke, and Sakura would not have expected anything less from the Seventh Hokage. He was kindlier than Sasuke, though, and much more generous, and thus the match had lasted a decent length of time.

Naruto was used to sparring with opponents far beneath him in skill and power, and while it was a little difficult to try and reconcile this portly, quivering child with the unfailingly resolute mountain of muscle and sinew he knew as the Akimichi clan head, he still felt a fondness for the boy who had in another time become one of the strongest shinobi alive, boasting raw physical strength to rival even Sakura, and stamina only a little short of matching a jinchuuriki.

That immovable, indefatigable titan of a man had been one of his staunchest supporters for as long as he could remember. More than that, though, Chouji had been one of the few kids to act with kindness towards him in his days at the academy. His younger self might have been cocky and dismissive of the chubby clan heir, failing to notice or appreciate those small, rare friendly gestures, but Naruto as he was now understood and was grateful for what little camaraderie as slackers and troublemakers had existed between him, Chouji, Shikamaru, and Kiba in those halcyon days of early youth.

Of course, Naruto had a bad habit of looking at the world through rose-tinted lenses, so perhaps he was letting nostalgia goggles warp his perspective. Whatever the case, he'd made an effort to keep the fight roughly on Chouji's level. He had plenty practice in pulling his punches from all the times he'd had to smack his son upside the head after an idiotic stunt – such as trying to perform the shadow clone jutsu when he was just an academy student, or attempting to sneak itching powder into a foreign diplomat's robes – and was similarly experienced at sparring with far weaker opponents from training both his kids in the basics.

So he'd let Chouji get a few hits in, demonstrated some simple but effective maneuvers that could greatly improve the lad's combat effectiveness, and even given him an opening big enough to use his clan's Nikudan Sensha. Only after the fight had gone on for a few minutes did he finally deign to end it, making sure to finish things with no higher a level of power than would seem entirely attainable to the ordinary genin.

Sure, he could have finished the match as soon as it had begun and completely dismantled every facet of Chouji's fighting style, but that would have only dispirited and discouraged the kid. Being completely outmatched by someone who was ostensibly near your age never felt good, and not everyone was bullheaded enough to stubbornly power through such a gap of skill. Sometimes you had to throw people a bone and let them believe they were only a little short of matching you, otherwise they might give up completely.

Naruto was actually a very good teacher, regardless of whatever Sasuke might say about his intellect.

Gaara vs. Dosu Kinuta

This was the next match up selected by the computer. Kankuro and Temari eyed their youngest brother warily as he stared at the monitor, a stoic face betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.

A small crinkling of the brow was the only sign that Gaara registered what he was seeing, for a moment, until a quiet hum resonated from the back of his throat. He cocked his head ever so slightly, before looking across the room to where Team Seven was standing.

Naruto caught Gaara's eye and grinned.

Gaara frowned, then he turned on the spot and let his sand swirl about to cover his trail. Suna shunshin was a specialty of his. This manner of locomotion gave the illusion of his body dissipating into sand, and rematerializing from the very same substance – an aesthetic that had powerful effects on his fellow Hidden Sand citizens.

He reappeared down in the arena, waiting a few more seconds for his opponent to get there.

"You must be Gaara of the Sand," the Sound genin remarked once he was in position. "I've heard tell of your... reputation."

Shukaku twitched in the back of his mind, and Gaara felt a brief rush of—killbloodcrushkill— murderous intent. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a small breath to calm himself.

"You have, have you?"

The cork popped out of his gourd, dissipating into a small mass of sand.

Dosu might have smiled beneath those bandages. It was hard to tell for certain, but he sure sounded pretty smug.

"Oh, I have," he said, raising his right hand. He tapped the big, strange, regularly perforated armor-looking hunk of metal worn over his forearm. "And I must say that I am... curious."

Gaara narrowed his eyes, barely even noticing as Hayate declared the start of the match.

"About what?"

This time, Dosu definitely smiled.

"Which is faster, do you suppose?" he mused aloud, cocking his head and tapping that weird, massively oversized bracer again. "Your sand... or my sound?"

In that moment, Gaara became aware of a loud, almost PAINFUL ringing in his ears. His eyes widened, and he listed backwards, suddenly staggering as a wave of vertigo struck him head on. His vision swam, and he had to fight to right himself.

"Wh... what the hell...?" he groaned, clenching his teeth as the pain increased.

Dosu sprang forward, bringing his fist up in a sweeping right hook. Sand rushed from Gaara's gourd, automatically interposing itself between the Oto-nin and the jinchuuriki. It reached out to wrap around Dosu's arm, and the sand made a cacophonous racket as it poured through and over the holes in the teen's bracer. The noise was unbearable.

Gaara clapped his hands to his ears and screamed. Blood trickled out from under his palms, and the pain was threatening to split his head in half. Dosu laughed and flicked an exposed part of his bracer, his jutsu causing the sand to explode away from his arm.

"Bad luck you were matched against me, really," the Sound ninja sneered, "but your so-called absolute defense is no use against MY attacks."

Gaara grit his teeth, giving Dosu a wild look.

"Surrender now," he growled, wincing from the pain and swaying on his feet. "I decided that I'd try not to kill my opponents if I didn't have to... ngh... but if you come any closer, I can't promise you'll leave this place alive..."

"You can't even block my attacks without setting off my melody arm," Dosu scoffed. "And you don't look like you can continue to stand under your power much longer, either. What could you possibly do to me in that state?"

Gaara shakily reached out with one hand, exhaling a single word in a sharp hiss. His eyes sparked with a sudden determination, and sand rushed up to meet the approaching shinobi.

"Win."

From head to toe, every inch of Dosu Kinuta except for his melody arm (and his face) was promptly buried under a faintly preposterous quantity of sand. And just like that, the Sound ninja belatedly realized that maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to actively provoke the human WMD.

"OH GOD I SURRENDER," he yelped, immediately abandoning any pretense of dignity. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME."

Gaara looked up to the higher level for a moment. Then he let his hand drop, releasing the sand's grip on his opponent.

"Count yourself lucky," he said icily. "But I'd prefer not to be disqualified for killing an opponent after they've already surrended."

Dosu whimpered.

Naruto, from where he was watching the match with his teammates, nodded his head approvingly.

Among the matches that followed, only a few more were of any particular note.

Temari fought Zaku Abumi in a duel of wind-users, and while it was an impressive show of skill on both their parts, it also dragged on inordinately long, winding up in something of a stalemate until Zaku finally dropped from exhaustion. His zankuuha ultimately required a greater initial investment of chakra than her kamaitachi.

Kabuto's contortionist teammate was matched up with Shikamaru, and his boast of finishing the match in under a minute certainly came true, albeit perhaps NOT in the way he'd intended. The Nara clan's specialty Shadow Possession Jutsu interacted with his joint-dislocating trick in a rather painful and gruesome fashion.

Karin's teammates were next slated to fight each other, an arrangement which surprised some people, and while both showed an average amount of cunning and resourcefulness, it ultimately came down to a brute force slugfest. The match didn't go on for very long, but the victor didn't exactly walk away unscathed. Both sported a myriad of cuts and bruises when they left the arena.

Tenten received a number of furtive warnings and well-wishings from Neji when the computer matched her up against Hinata. The weapon mistress, of course, treated her teammate's words with a healthy dose of skepticism, having no way to know that she was going up against a gentle fist master two decades her senior.

Needless to say, Hinata completely shut down Tenten's shurikenjutsu, and even her melee bukijutsu was little match for the Hyuuga's hand-to-hand expertise. Hinata effortlessly disarmed her opponent every time she drew a weapon, and she pressed her advantage by keeping in close and denying Tenten any opening in which to summon more tools from her scrolls.

Although she specialized in weapons (particularly ranged, throwing ones), Tenten was no slouch in the taijutsu department. She could hardly afford to be deficient there, as a student of Might Guy. Despite this, however, she obviously stood no chance in a close quarters fight against someone like Hinata.

"Eight Trigrams: Sixteen Palms," was the finisher, a mere quarter of the Hyuuga main branch's most well-known hissatsu waza, and Hinata pulled it off with appropriate ease.

Neji gave Tenten his sincerest condolences when she came back up from her match. Tenten replied with a look that could have petrified Medusa.

"I don't wanna hear anything about your damn byakugan or jyuuken," she hissed, misconstruing – in her frustrated disappointment at losing – Neji's fear of Hinata and resultant worry for her as a chauvinistic belief in the automatic superiority of Hyuuga shinobi over everyone else.

This misunderstanding bothered Neji more than he would have expected.

That little bit of Team Guy drama aside, the next fight was Shino versus Kabuto's other teammate, the guy who drained chakra by touching people. To most ninja that jutsu probably would have seemed pretty intimidating, but Shino merely quirked an eyebrow at the first demonstration of this technique before commenting:

"So you can only affect someone within arm's reach of yourself? How disappointing." Then he dissolved into a swarm of kikaichuu, which rose up and engulfed his enemy before he had time to react. "You will find that my jutsu has no such limitation."

Naturally, this move promptly resulted in Shino being declared the victor.

Ino and Kin fought after that. At first, the Sound kunoichi seemed rather cocksure of her chances, but that confidence quickly deflated when Ino systematically dismantled every aspect of her ninjutsu – sticking makeshift plugs in her ears to avoid getting tricked by the bells, and engaging the raven-haired lass up close. She dominated the fight, ending it after a twenty seconds by kicking a battered Kin to the floor and pressing a kunai to her throat.

There was a reason Ino'd had the one of highest cumulative scores out of their year group back in the academy. She'd been runner up for Rookie of the Year, and against someone like Sasuke that was no mean feat.

After that, Sakura fought Kankuro, and it went about as well for the puppet-user as one might expect. Sakura had gone toe-to-toe with Akasuna no Sasori as a chuunin (albeit with the aid of Puppetmistress Chiyo) and she had improved by leaps and bounds since then. Kankuro's tricks were all too predictable at this level.

She completely dismantled Karasu, and not even the nastiest stuff it could spew was any match for her medical ninjutsu. Not that anything it threw actually hit her.

If there was one thing Tsunade's training was good for, it was teaching people how to DODGE.

Now, coming down to the last two fights of preliminaries, there were only...

...um, how many possible match ups...?

Let's see... Rock Lee vs. Kabuto Yakushi, Karin vs. Neji Hyuuga, Kabuto Yakushi vs. Neji Hyuuga, Rock Lee vs. Karin, Karin vs. Kabuto Yakushi, or Rock Lee vs. Neji Hyuuga.

So, that's six. Six possible matches, not counting what order the names might be in.

Funnily enough, while the selection algorithm was ostensibly random, it had to be said that the choice which wound up appearing on the monitor was, of course, nothing other than:

Rock Lee vs. Neji Hyuuga

Some things just work out like that.

"Sensei!" Lee exclaimed, spinning to look his instructor in the eye. "The match I've awaited is here...!"

Guy laughed, grinning at the enthusiasm on his protege's face.

"Indeed it is, Lee! Neji!" he declared, looking over his two male students. "You kids have done me proud to come this far in the Chuunin Exams, but it looks like only one of you will make it to the third phase." He struck a flamboyant pose, giving both Neji and Lee a thumbs up. "Go, young men, and FIGHT! With your pride on the line, commit everything you have to this match!"

Neji, much like Tenten, put little to no store by these theatrics. Lee, on the other hand, treated every word out of his sensei's mouth like the gospel truth. The former scoffed and stalked down into the arena, not wanting to waste his time on any more of Guy's rambling, but Lee hung back for a moment, fire burning in his eyes.

(Karin watched from nearby, anxiously vacillating over whether or not to wish her crush good luck)

"Do you mean it, sensei?" Lee breathed, looking up at Guy as though he almost didn't dare to hope. "To give this fight everything I have...?"

Guy struck the Nice Guy Pose™, giving his student a thumbs up and a toothy grin, pristine enamel audibly glinting.

"Show them the power of hard work!"

Lee's face nearly split in half from the smile which flashed across it. Nodding so fast his head was just a blur, he immediately knelt down and fiddled with his legwarmers. He whipped the weights off of his legs so fast that they hadn't even hit the ground when he then backflipped into the arena.

Twin clouds of dust and rubble blossomed between Guy and Tenten at the same moment Lee touched down in the arena, his weights hitting the ground right as he landed. Neji probably would have paid this some actual heed if he hadn't been wrapped up in brooding about all of the various reasons his life sucked.

Almost everyone else present was slackjawed in disbelief.

Hayate blinked, staring at the twin mushroom clouds up on the spectator's level. With a cough, and a wary look towards Lee, the proctor raised a hand.

"To a good fight!" Lee said with an eager grin, giving his rival a thumbs up.

Neji said nothing.

Hayate swung his arm down.

"BEGIN!"

In the blink of an eye, Neji crossed the distance between himself and his foe. He thrust his left arm forward, fingers extended, aiming for Lee's shoulder – with a good hit to the tenketsu there, he'd be able to greatly inhibit his teammate's combat ability, and from there the match would be...

The Hyuuga prodigy felt this train of thought catastrophically derail as his hand was pushed harmlessly aside, Lee pressing two fingers to his rival's wrist as he deflected the attempted attack.

Neji blinked, astonished by this abrupt turn of events.

Wait, what? When did Lee... get this fast...?!

To his credit, Neji did not let this surprise knock him off-kilter for more than an instant. His other hand shot up, aiming for the opening in his opponent's defenses... and Lee blocked that strike with his other hand, catching Neji's two outstretched fingers between his own middle and pointer.

All of this happened in under a second. Neji's first hand was still pressed to one side, and his second was caught in Lee's grip. For an instant, it seemed like a deadlock.

Then Lee's foot snapped up, crashing into Neji's face.

Naruto curiously examined one of the leg weights Lee had left up on the balcony, blithely ignoring the dirty looks Tenten was shooting him. Apparently the brunette had recently deduced his distant relation to Karin (he'd overheard the redhead mentioning that she was of Uzumaki descent in between gushing over Lee and smirking at Tenten) and decided to blame him for the intrusions the overly-amorous bespectacled sensor had made into Team Guy's dynamic.

"Huh," he said, tracing a finger over the repeating characters which proclaimed GUTS. "This is sure some fancy seal work. No wonder Lee doesn't leave massive craters everywhere he goes."

Tenten snorted.

"Clearly you've never seen him practicing that Lotus move..." she muttered.

Guy smiled toothily, though, giving Naruto a Nice Guy Pose™ in the affirmative.

"Indeed, those weights are a work of nothing less than sheer brilliance," he boasted. "The late Fourth Hokage was kind enough to fashion them for me, back when he was just your sensei's jounin instructor! He observed the rivalry between myself and Kakashi, and clearly believed that the competition between us could only benefit his prized pupil!"

Guy's teeth blinged, and he let out a boisterous laugh.

"Yes, these weights don't simply weigh Lee down – the sealing jutsu inside them transforms their mass into a pressure that places resistance on muscles throughout the body, and not just the ones responsible for lifting one's legs!"

"So Lee isn't just running faster," Naruto observed. "Basically every muscle in his body has been fighting ridiculous amounts of resistance while he wore those weights, and now that he's taken them off... he's doing just about everything faster."

He already knew all of this, of course, but SOMEONE had to provide exposition for all the unenlightened onlookers.

One thing was quickly becoming obvious to Neji as Lee hammered at him with a punishing flurry of strikes.

I've been getting slacking off on my physical conditioning.

That was what he thought as Lee kicked him back several feet, only to appear right behind him with a cocked fist before he could even land, seemingly moving instantly. Neji's next few thoughts, naturally, were mostly just variations on the theme of Ow, that hurt.

Lee juggled his teammate back and forth across the arena a couple more times, before coming to a near standstill long enough to let Neji regain his footing.

"Do you see, now?" he said, staring down his woozy and staggering foe. "This is the difference between you and I, Neji. While you were born with extraordinary talent, and I was born with no talent at all, one of us has pushed himself to the limit every day, resolutely striving to surpass his weakness, while the other has allowed himself to grow complacent, confident in his own superiority."

He vanished for a moment, and Neji's byakugan only caught the slightest ghost of movement before Lee reappeared inches from his face, fist poised and ready to strike.

"Through the power of hard work, I have crossed the gulf between us... and reversed the scale of our powers!"

The punch made contact, and Neji's world once more exploded into pain and pretty colors.

"Kyaaa!" Karin squealed, watching delightedly as her crush walked all over his opponent. "Lee-kun... so cool!"

Tenten twitched and scowled at the redhead, who was annoyingly standing closer to Team Guy than to her own squad – not that the girl's teammates seemed particularly perturbed by this fact, mind you.

Naruto was standing back by Team Seven, now, watching the match and idly cheering Lee on. Hinata, standing between her own teammates (but not too far from the blond) called down occasional words of encouragement to her cousin. The latter's support seemed to be having a somewhat adverse effect, however, considering the way Neji seemed to twitch and tense up for just a fraction of a second every time he heard Hinata's voice.

Despite still being a bit miffed about her Hyuuga teammate's apparent dismissal of her chances a couple rounds ago, Tenten only somewhat reluctantly shouted out a few cheers for Neji as well. Lee didn't seem bothered by her seemingly siding with his rival, probably partially because of just how badly Neji was losing right now.

He was a surprisingly good sport like that.

And make no mistake, Neji Hyuuga was losing this fight. He may have been more skilled than Lee, having had several years to master the flows and stances of his clan's gentle fist, whereas his teammate hadn't even begun to learn Guy's gouken until less than a year ago, but that didn't mean much in this instance. Neji was a far better martial artist than Lee, much closer to mastery than the boy who had proclaimed himself the genius's rival, but skill could only do so much against such overwhelming speed and strength.

It was actually rather ingenious, Neji noted in a corner of his mind. He'd been learning the jyuuken from a young age, and thus had a considerable headstart over Lee, so for the bowl-cut lad to properly close the gap in their respective martial ability could have taken years, perhaps in excess of a decade. Therefore, it seemed Guy had chosen to focus heavily on building up Lee's physical strength, speed, and stamina.

Lee didn't have any ninjutsu or genjutsu to fall back on, so he had to focus thrice as hard on improving his body. And with HIS work ethic, that apparently meant a simply ludicrous increase in speed.

Neji felt a blindingly fast hammerblow strike his side, and he staggered, narrowing his eyes and trying to work out where Lee would be next. He caught flicker of movement behind him, an instant of deceleration in which his opponent slowed, however briefly, to a speed he could actually see.

Neji's arms snapped up in a defensive position, his legs swinging and torso twisting in an attempt to sidestep the coming attack. Lee missed him by fractions of an inch, and Neji's hands zipped out to strike his foe's side. He hit nothing but air.

Damn...! Neji mentally cursed, spinning around the moment he realized Lee had sped back up. I still can't completely follow his movements!

"LEAF HURRICANE!"

A lightning fast kick swept Neji's legs out from under him, coming from the opposite side of where the Hyuuga had just been guarding, and Lee raised his foot as he spun around for the second blow, this time catching his rival's left arm with a nasty CRACK.

With as inundated as his body was with adrenaline and endorphines, it took Neji a couple seconds to properly register the fact that his arm was now broken. It wasn't anything massive or especially ugly, probably just a simple hairline fracture, but it still hurt like a motherfucker – bad enough to overwhelm his senses for a moment.

He blacked out from the pain.

When Neji came to an instant later, stubbornly fighting to regain his senses, it was to see the scuffed and cracked tile floor rushing up to meet him. He closed his eyes and reflexively swung out his arms to catch himself, in his beaten and weary state acting purely on instinct.

This was what finally decided the match. As it turns out, subjecting a newly cracked bone to that kind of abrupt shock had very painful consequences. Neji probably would have screamed himself hoarse if he hadn't immediately passed out from the pain.

He was good, but far from invincible.

Lee, of course, was ecstatic over his victory. He at least had the decency to wait until a couple minutes after the medics had carted Neji off before jumping for joy at finally overcoming his rival, but there was no mistaking how excited he was.

Sasuke watched in bemusement as Karin hugged a cheering Lee while Tenten visibly waffled over whether to congratulate one teammate or check up on the other. It was quite the spectacle, and reminded him of just how dedicated to that rivalry the taijutsu specialist had really been in his youth.

Guy did not hesitate to intervene with a wicked punch, however, proceeding to scold Lee about getting overconfident, declaring that this was only the first step in a long and arduous journey, and that his real training still had yet to begin.

"From here on out, Lee, your every waking moment will be spent suffering through a living hell like no other! I will break you down until nothing remains, and then build you back up into a model shinobi! The flames of youth will fuel the crucible of hardship, and nothing less than absolute, unswerving guts and determination will see you through this ordeal!"

Then he punched Lee a second time before pulling the kid close and hugging him, promptly tearing up and babbling about hard work, friendship, and victory.

Sasuke probably would have winced in sympathy for the lad if Lee's adult self hadn't forced him to partake in some of his utterly obscene training regimens shortly after the Uchiha's proper return to Konoha. So as far as he was concerned, the sadist would simply be getting his just desserts.

He didn't care if this statement made no causal, temporal, or logical sense. That was just the way he rolled.

But then the computer buzzed, and everyone looked up to the monitor to see what the last match would be. There was only one option, of course, since all other possible participants had gone, but it was still a bit surreal to see the match up displayed on the screen, especially for the four who had been here for these events last time around.

Sasuke didn't remember whether he'd been conscious for the whole preliminaries, as his memory of them was very foggy and almost nonexistant, but he was still PRETTY sure that this was not a fight that would have happened back then.

Grim determination was the name of the look on Karin's face. She stared at the LCD where the final match up was being displayed, narrowing her eyes and feeling something bloodthirsty and savage come blearily blinking into wakefulness.

Karin vs. Kabuto Yakushi

She read the names on the monitor. Finally, her turn had come. It was time to show Lee-kun what she was made of.

The pang of unease at fighting on her own, without backup from her teammates, was drowned out by thoughts of impressing the boy who had saved her life, reunited her with her team, and helped them pass the second test without asking for anything in return. Had she not been smitten with him from the word go, Karin might have had something smarmy or cynical to say about this naïvely chivalrous attitude.

But she WAS smitten with him, and quite hopelessly so. Rock Lee didn't look very cool, and despite a very fit body he wasn't what most girls would call handsome, yet none of these things seemed very important to Karin. Perhaps it was a byproduct of her weakness for knights in shining armor, her childhood fantasies of a classical rescue romance unfolding between herself and some brave prince charming.

Lee saved her life. This was no exaggeration: had it not been for his timely intervention, scavengers would probably be picking the remains of her carcass clean right about now. Whatever the reason, that bear had been singularly intent on mauling her, and even with the inexorable hardiness and vitality of an Uzumaki descendant, she probably would not have survived its ravages.

Some kunoichi would take offense at being rescued, girls who bitterly disdained the stereotype of weak and helpless females overcompensating for society's biased expectations by snapping and biting the head off of any male who showed even the slightest signs of doing anything that might possibly make things easier on them. Rightly or wrongly, there were people out there who would sooner die than accept help from another person... but Karin wasn't one of them. In all honesty, she rather liked the idea of a strong, brave man swearing to protect her and risking his life for her sake.

Perhaps this mindset conformed to certain stereotypes, but Karin didn't really care. She knew what she liked, and she was not remotely ashamed of her "white knight" complex. Rock Lee stopped that bear with a single kick, saving her from a painful, most likely incredibly gruesome death. This alone would have tugged at Karin's heartstrings and made her swoon, but he hadn't stopped there. Over their next three days in the forest, Lee had stuck out his neck to escort Karin back to her teammates and help her get through the second phase of the exams alive. He'd been a perfect gentleman, and entirely receptive to Karin's flirtations.

That last part was really a big factor. Certainly, even if Karin had been saved by someone who didn't go out of their way to do anything further and didn't appear the least bit welcoming of her tentative advances, she probably still would have carried a torch for them for several months afterwards, at the very least, but with Lee... well, he made it all too easy for her to get flustered and lovestruck around him. He was so polite, so earnest, so friendly. Another person might have found the more zealous and hotblooded aspects of his personality overbearing or offputting, but Karin felt oddly inspired by it.

He'd told her all about himself, in the time they'd spent together. He told her about how he was teased and looked down on by the other kids when he was younger, how he'd started out with absolutely no talent as a ninja, how he had only barely gratuated the academy on the strength of his written exam. And he told her also about how he had come so close to giving up, how his continued failure to amount to anything had left him frustrated and hopeless, and how Guy-sensei had pushed him through that funk and inspired him to do his best, inspired him to work harder than anyone else and push himself further than anyone else, to surpass his own limitations through sheer guts and determination.

Hearing all of these things had led Karin to appreciate and admire Lee in a deeper, more nuanced way than before. Where she had initially seen him just as the fit, strong, brave young man who'd saved her from an otherwise certain death, she now saw someone like and yet unlike herself, a person with insecurities and flaws and hopes and dreams. At her age, it was easy to idealize a crush, to raise them in her mind to an impossible level, to assume the absolute best about them in every way, only to inevitably be let down when the truth struck home, when they learned beyond any concealment of lies or denial that nobody was perfect.

It was easy to love the person you thought someone to be, but sometimes much harder to love the person they actually were. Karin could have idolized Lee and mentally elevated him to a practically godlike status, but that would not have been the basis for a healthy crush or relationship. Learning of Lee's flaws, of everything he disliked and resented about himself, of all his doubts and failings, and all the effort it took him to try and move beyond these things, only deepened Karin's admiration for him.

It would, perhaps, be rash to call what she felt love. Karin was only a child, yet, barely even a teenager. She had not acquired the maturity or depth of emotional nuance to feel the full extent of something so vast and profound as "True Love", but she could feel a shadow of it, a puerile and youthful approximation of something not entirely dissimilar. It was only a crush, maybe, but to her it was as serious as life or death, and as real as the nose on her face.

She wanted Lee to see her, to watch her rise above her own weaknesses and become a true shinobi, much as he had done himself. She wanted to show him her strength, to have him acknowledge her, to impress him and have him take her into his arms and whisper his praises of her bravery and skill and...

Karin blushed, shaking her head as she walked into the arena.

Focus, girl! Don't let your mind wander. If you want Lee to look at you like that, you know what you have to do...

Karin's expression hardened, becoming a mask of grim determination.

She would win. She would show Lee exactly what she was made of. She would astound him and make him fall head over heels for her, as much as she herself had for him. This was what she thought. Perhaps it was not an entirely realistic expectation, but Karin was young. As far as she knew, that was how romance worked.

A thrill raced up her spine as she faced her opponent. He was older than her, and his chakra felt larger than a good number of the other genin, but there were several present who dwarfed his power, the most noticeable of whom was the boy who had introduced himself a couple days ago as Naruto Uzumaki, the one who had sent Karin that invitation for a family reunion.

Compared to that guy, this bespectacled fellow's chakra seemed downright puny. There was something a little off about his energy signature, of course, but Karin was too wrapped up in her determination to win and impress Lee to really care about this. She was singlemindedly focused on the fight before her, working herself up into a nigh furor as she steeled her resolve and prepared to fight.

You can do this, Karin... you just have to kick this loser's ass! Then Lee will see how cool you are, and he'll be totally impressed and want to ask you out on a date, and then maybe one thing will lead to another, and...

Karin grinned savagely and licked her lips. Despite her youth and waif-like physique, something about this expression was undeniably fearsome. Probably it was an Uzumaki female thing.

Hayate announced the start of the match, and Karin was an instant from pouncing when Kabuto threw up his hands.

"I forfeit," he said.

Karin blinked. Kabuto smiled innocently at the redhead who had been inches away from beating him up in hopes of impressing her crush. Hayate coughed.

"Ah, I see," said the proctor. "Well, in that case, I guess Karin is the winner."

There was silence as the onlookers processed this utterly anticlimactic outcome.

Another second passed before Karin snapped and threw herself at Kabuto, prompting Hayate and several other jounin to intervene.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" the rampaging Uzumaki roared at her would-have-been opponent.

Lee, blissfully oblivious to the circumstances, enthusiastically cheered her on.

Chapter Text

"Heehee... hey! Watch where you're putting those hands of yours, Nana-chan!"

"Aww, but I can't help it, Mitsu. Just look at these babies! How do you do it?"

"I hear soy, fish, and dairy products are good for them. That, and regular massages."

"Oho... And Mitsu's got that handsome boyfriend to give her nice and thorough rub-downs, doesn't she? Lucky thing!"

"A-Ah, it's not like that Nana, Kaoru... w-we're not one of those couples."

"Oooh, you're blushing! You're totally blushing!"

SPLASH

"I am not! You're just seeing things!"

SPLASH SPLASH

"Kyaaa! Ritsu you jerk! Watch where you're putting your hands!"

A large, white-haired man giggled to himself, setting down his spyglass to jot some quick notes in a messy shorthand, before picking the eyepiece back up and resuming his perverted espionage. He was perched on a cliff overlooking a small lake where a few attractive young women in itty-bitty swimsuits were enjoying a day to themselves, giggling as they splashed each other in the shallows and indulged in stereotypical fanservice and skinship.

Jiraiya of the Sannin watched intently as the young women played and cavorted, showing off their curves with tight, skimpy bikinis. He drooled a little bit as he watched them jiggle and bounce, their bosoms seemingly threatening to break loose of those cruelly snug confines. His notepad was filled with sketches and observations – three pages so far, just from watching these girls!

Women abroad were fine and dandy, but it seemed that nothing could beat his hometown hotties.

With a toothy grin and a dopey expression, Jiraiya paused in his observations to scribble down a couple more notes in his personal shorthand (indecipherable to anyone but himself and his students) another giggle escaping his lips as the shorter brunette slipped her hands up the more buxom raven-haired beauty's bikini top. The lankier, skinnier, sandy-haired one with the frilly skirt-like bottom tittered and jeered teasingly at her friends.

Silently, Jiraiya thanked the powers-that-be for allowing him this veritable goldmine of inspiration. And to think, he probably wouldn't have come back to the Leaf at this time if he hadn't gotten news that his godson was participating in the Chuunin Exams!

I'll have to thank the kid for giving me an excuse to come back into town, Jiraiya mused. If it looks like he can handle it, maybe I'll give him some lessons on the jinchuuriki basics. If he has access to even half as much chakra as his mother... or if he has even the slightest fraction of his old man's ingenuity, then Naruto oughta take to my lessons like a fish to water.

And speaking of fish in water, it seemed that the raven-haired beauty had lost her top, and was now wrestling the brunette's bottom off in retaliation. The dirty blonde was laughing her nice and perky ass off.

A bit of blood trickled from Jiraiya's nostrils. He licked his lips and resumed furiously scribbling down notes.

Yes, returning to Konoha when he did was probably one of the best decisions he had made in quite a while. If he was really lucky, he might even find a pretty young oyajicon hankering to get down with a legendary shinobi.

"Hehehe... Maybe next I'll check out the hot springs..." he mused.

Jiraiya had a good feeling about today.

"Congratulations, you three. You've officially progressed to the third stage of the exams," Kakashi said to his students as he lead them back out of the Forest of Death, running through the treetops at a leisurely (by their standards) pace. "You've done very well so far."

Naruto and Sakura smiled at the compliment. Even this time around, with their abilities as high as they were, Kakashi rarely doled out any significant praise. He wasn't the sort of teacher to carelessly feed his students' egos.

Sasuke, however, could hardly care less about praise from the Copy Ninja.

"Of course we have," he drawled, looking askance at their jounin sensei. "You've seen how good we are, Kakashi. Frankly, these exams are beneath us."

"At least until we have to fight each other," Sakura interjected. "Then it'll probably become a real challenge."

Naruto grinned, a faraway look in his eye. He stroked his chin thoughtfully and glanced sidelong at his male teammate.

"It's been a while since me and Sasuke have had a real all out match," he commented. "I can't wait to fight him seriously in the finals."

Sakura shot him a warning glare.

"Not in that stadium, you don't!" she reprimanded. "Please try to think of the potential collateral damage before you act, Naruto. If you and Sasuke were to fight at full power inside the village boundaries..." She trailed off, before shaking her head and favoring the blond with a smirk. "...but, well, that aside... Sasuke will have to get through me or Hinata before you can fight him, anyways."

Naruto laughed good naturedly. "Ah, true. Him and me are on opposite ends of the tournament bracket, aren't we?"

"We are," Sasuke said, his expression neutral. "More's the pity, really. You get one less fight than me."

"I wouldn't count your eggs before they hatch," Kakashi interjected. "You can never be sure how a match might turn out, and if you go into the fight too cocky, you're very liable to overreach yourself and make a stupid mistake."

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"Do you really think any of us are actually likely to lose our fights?" he scoffed.

"No. Probably not," the Copy Ninja admitted blithely, shrugging. "But you can never be too cautious."

"I'd contest that, and say that a certain degree of recklessness is needed to do well in battle... but I really don't care," Sasuke flippantly responded. "Turtling is for people who CAN'T effortlessly dismantle their opponent with just a glance."

Sakura laughed.

"How typical of you, Sasuke," she said wryly, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. "I suppose you'll continue fighting with a handicap in the finals?"

"You know he only whips that out for serious opponents," Naruto quipped. "Like when we fought Zabuza on the way to Wave. And even then it was total overkill, honestly."

Kakashi tiredly shook his head, remembering the incident in question. He dropped to a lower elevation in the branches, jumping nimbly through the titanic foliage of Training Ground Forty-Four. Despite the speed at which he was moving – not his maximum by any means, but still fast enough to leave most other ninja panting and wheezing in the dust – his cute little genin were matching his pace perfectly, and showing few if any signs of exertion.

These kids really were in a whole other league from their peers.

"Ah, yes," Kakashi said absentmindedly. "By the way, do try not to go overboard, okay? It would look bad to the other sensei if any of my students killed their students."

"We won't kill anyone," Sakura said promptly. "Not unless they try to kill us, first. And even then, only IF they actually pose a threat of successfully doing so... which is pretty dang unlikely, in my opinion."

She smiled, absentmindedly punching her way through a tree. Not for any real reason: mostly just because it was there, and she felt like showing off. So she struck the trunk with a small, bare fist, smashing through the wood with laughable ease. The upper segment of the tree teetered for a moment, the remaining area around the gaping hole quite insufficient to support its weight, before falling to the forest floor with a crash.

"Gah! TIMBER!" Naruto called out behind them, sidestepping the falling mass of wood. "You gotta shout out 'timber!' when you're going to be knocking trees over, Sakura! That's the rule, remember?"

The pinkette pouted cutely at the blond. "Aww, but there wasn't anyone around to get hurt by it," she replied in a sugary tone.

"I was there," Naruto deadpanned.

"So was I," added Sasuke, a touch miffed.

"Anyone who could be hurt by it," Sakura corrected, dropping the cutesy act and rolling her eyes.

The two boys shared a look, then shrugged in unison.

"Fair enough," Sasuke said. "I can take much bigger wood than that without going down."

Naruto sniggered, and Sakura giggled. Even Kakashi found himself biting back a chuckle.

These kids are a bad influence on me. They're making my sense of humor more immature than ever... thought the man who had a jutsu that was literally just a glorified kancho.

Sasuke gave the other three a black look.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny," he muttered. "Real mature, you guys."

"I didn't say a thing," said Sakura angelically.

"And I'm sure you've gone down on much bigger wood," Naruto added cheekily, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Sasuke shot back with a rather vulgar gesture, and a curse too foul to be transcribed.

"Language, boys," Kakashi lazily reprimanded. "We don't want people thinking I'm a bad influence on you, do we?"

"You ARE a bad influence, though," Sasuke replied archly. "I don't see anyone else reading smut in public."

"That's just because I'm not of age yet," Sakura interjected, waving a hand airily. Well... physically, at least, she added mentally a second later. But you know full well what kind of reading habits I really have, dear.

Sasuke couldn't actually hear Sakura's thoughts or anything like that, but he could still roughly tell what she was thinking by reading the look on her face.

He glowered.

You know what I mean.

Kakashi shook his head and sighed. It was either that or chuckle. The kids could be terrifying when they got serious, but more often than not they tended to just joke around and pull each other's chains, didn't they?

"It's mature literature with love scenes," he drawled, glimpsing a light at the edge of the woods. "You'll appreciate it when you're older, I'm sure."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything to this.

"What do you think we should do about training for the final phase?" Naruto mused, having a go at changing the subject. "I'd been meaning to ask you about that, sensei."

"Hm, well, that's a good question. You three seem to have the basics down pat," Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. "Plus you've also shown plenty of ingenuity with your techniques. I do have a couple ideas, mind you... not that I'm really obligated to teach the three of you new jutsu or anything, but I reckon you kids are ready for the next level. In terms of skill, at the very least."

They burst out of the foliage, landing in front of one of the gates in the fence encircling the Forest of Death. Kakashi reached a hand into his vest, casually producing three small pieces of paper.

"Channel some chakra into these," he said, as they walked to the gate. "It'll show your elemental affinity. Not that I expect you kids to be able to master nature transformation in only a month's time, but it'll provide a decent foundation as far as what sort of jutsu will come easier to you."

He handed one slip each to Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto. With mildly amused expressions, the trio promptly did as Kakashi requested.

Sakura's paper moistened, then crumbled.

Sasuke's moistened, crinkled, split in half, crumbled, and burned.

Naruto's did nothing for a second. Then, just when Kakashi was about to ask if the blond was sure he was following the instructions correctly, the slip of paper flashed, shining like a thousand watt lightbulb in the boy's hand, before exploding into a shower of multicolored sparks.

Kakashi blinked.

"...well, alright then," he muttered weakly, quite bemused by this development. "Who wants to head to the onsen for a break?"

The trio smiled innocently before nodding in unison.

Tsunade woke up to a shaft of sunlight stabbing through her eyelids. She saw nothing but a blinding reddishness that chased away the quiescent black of dreamless sleep, a dull and throbbing pain seeming to radiate outward from her optical nerves. Her lips felt dry and cracked; her mouth might as well have been stuffed full of cotton gauze laced with the bitter, acid taste of cheap booze and vomit. Her ears were ringing and her head was throbbing, and her bladder felt ready to burst.

The world renowned medic groaned and rolled over on her futon, trying to squeeze her eyes more tightly shut against the intruding, unwelcome solar luminescence. Her joints were stiff and sore, her back shooting with occasional bursts of pain. Aching, ill-used muscles protested even the slightest degree of movement.

For a moment, Tsunade dared to hope that if she closed her eyes and ignored all of this, she might somehow manage to fall back asleep and win a few more hours of respite from the unrelenting misery of consciousness. The pressure in her bladder refused to leave her mind, however, and her gut chose to rumble ominously a few seconds later.

Muttering a virulent oath, Tsunade reluctantly pushed herself up off of the futon. Still wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in, stale and smelling of bile and liquor, the Legendary Sucker groaned and rose to her feet, feeling bones creak and joints crack. She staggered blearily in the direction of the bathroom.

After taking care of business and doing a quick wash, rinsing her face and brushing her teeth, she finally bothered to check the time. It was half past three.

In the afternoon.

"Ugh. That was a hell of a night," the woman groaned, feeling half again as old as she actually was. She rubbed her eyes, which felt dry and vaguely itchy. "Bleah. I'm seriously getting too old for this crap."

Sighing, Tsunade left the bathroom in search of a clean change of clothes. It took her a moment to find her things – she couldn't really remember checking into this inn, and the layout was a little different than she was used to. She found Shizune's clothes before her own, actually, and this led her to wonder just where her apprentice might have gotten to.

She'll probably be doubly insufferable today, the lush thought ruefully as she passed over the raven-haired woman's bag and came to her own. Considering how late I've slept in.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling her headache intensify.

Fuck. I must've had a LOT to drink last night.

Shizune was usually fairly deferential to her master, especially since the women might as well have been her aunt, but that didn't mean she never expressed disappointment with Tsunade's lifestyle. While she rarely said as much outright, Shizune rather disapproved of drinking and gambling, and could even become something of a nag if pushed far enough. They were as good as family, and this meant the apprentice medic was one of the few people who could get away with busting Tsunade's balls over her bad habits.

...so to speak.

Finally coming across a serviceably clean change of clothes, Tsunade peeled off her crusty and stinking garments. She paused for a moment, debating whether to take a bath now or get dressed and wait until she didn't feel so ungodly horrible. Most of her being just wanted to lie back down on the futon and wait for the hangover to pass; even getting dressed felt almost like it would be more trouble than it was worth.

But Shizune would probably have a conniption if she came back to find her mentor sleeping in the nude, and Tsunade really didn't feel like getting a lecture from the girl. Not with a headache this bad.

So, with a longsuffering sigh, the Slug Princess blearily dressed herself. As she pulled up her pants, she absently tried to remember where she was. It was a futile effort, though: the last town she could actually remember the name of (the last time she'd been sober enough to commit as much to memory) had probably been a few days ago, at the very least, and who knew how far she might have wandered in the meantime?

Drowsily shaking her head, Tsunade fumbled with her blouse for a moment or two. Now that she'd been up for a little while, she was starting to regain her equilibrium and managing to shunt aside the discomfort of the hangover. Learning when and how to ignore pain was a critical element of shinobi discipline, and Tsunade wasn't considered a living legend for no reason.

Finally, she was dressed, and in enough control of her faculties to wonder once again where Shizune might have gotten to. Perhaps the girl had found herself a nice guy to shack up with for the night? It would probably do her good, but Tsunade doubted that this was the case. More likely Shizune was busy doing odd jobs to try and recoup a portion of her mentor's losses. Tsunade might have been hemophobic, but her apprentice had no such hang ups, and she was a good enough medic besides to handle most sorts of injuries and ailments.

So, basically, the girl could be anywhere in the town.

Which was troublesome, since Tsunade didn't even know what town this was.

Sighing, she shook her head and decided to find out if this place had an onsen. She could always look for Shizune later, and the thought of a nice hot soak was growing too tempting to ignore.

So she put away her things and headed in the most likely direction of the front desk.

Temari was sore, grumpy, and tired as she stumbled out of the room she and her brothers were sharing for the duration of their stay in the village, at one of Konoha's nicer inns. It was one of those places with a hot spring (natural or otherwise, she didn't care) and the blonde fully intended to take advantage of this particular amenity. Water wasn't especially scarce in Suna – the village was built above a decently sized aquifer, you see, and the surrounding oasis locations were well-documented – but bathing was still a luxury, and one in which even the Kazekage's daughter could only rarely indulge.

The Hidden Leaf had water to spare, though, so Temari was not about to turn down the chance to enjoy a nice onsen. It wasn't Yuugakure by a long shot, but Konoha was still said to have some damn nice springs.

Practically melting already at the thought of getting to immerse herself in the hot, steaming mineral water, Temari was naturally a little distracted from looking where she was going.

So much so, in fact, that she wound up walking facefirst into someone's chest.

A very buxom someone's chest.

"Afsdmerfl—!" Temari yelped, eyes going wide when they were suddenly assaulted by a soft and creamy expanse. She felt her cheeks burn, and for a brief moment she froze. Then, anxiously, the lass extricated her face from the stranger's cleavage, looking away and fighting the urge to blush.

She couldn't bring herself to meet the woman's eyes, she felt so mortified.

"Ah... S-Sorry, miss," she said at length, sheepishly scratching the back of her neck. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No problem, kid," the woman replied, her words coming out the slightest bit slurred. "Just tell me if this place has a hotspring, and we'll call it even."

Temari blinked owlishly at this.

"Um, yes," she said in spite of herself, managing to turn her head and lift her gaze to meet the woman's eyes. She straightened up and recomposed herself. "It does. I was just heading there now, in fact..."

"Oh, that's good. You can show me where they are, then."

Temari inwardly grimaced at this. Her cheeks still felt a bit warm from embarrassment over that collision, and she really wanted nothing more than to put some distance between herself and this woman and forget that it had ever happened, but she couldn't quite bring herself to backtrack now.

"Sure, I suppose so," she reluctantly said.

She took in the stranger's brown eyes, blonde pigtails, and large... tracts of land. Then she noticed the strange blue diamond mark on the woman's forehead.

Oddly, Temari got the damnedest feeling that she should know who this person was.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?!"

Kiba glowered at Naruto and Sasuke, the Inuzuka halfway through undressing when the pair walked into the changing room. Neither boy spared him a second glance, simply grabbing a couple clean towels before starting to take off their own clothes.

"They're probably here to use the hot springs," Shino blandly deduced, his pale skin pockmarked with many minuscule, scarcely noticeable boreholes. "Why else would they come in here?"

"They might try to peep on Hinata!" Kiba protested, scowling. "I bet they heard Kurenai-sensei was treating our team at the hot springs and decided to come over and perv on them."

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"We didn't even know your team was here until you said that, idiot," he said. "For all Naruto and I knew, you and Shino just came here of your own accord."

"Not quite true," Naruto corrected his teammate, unzipping his trousers. "I'd already sensed their chakra before we even entered the building." He paused, then, looking off into the distance for a moment, before adding: "And speaking of which, actually, I think Sakura and Hinata must be saying hello. They're standing right next to each other, and it feels like they're talking."

Kiba's scowl darkened.

"Hmph. Just don't try anything funny, you got that?" he muttered, eyeing the pair suspiciously. "I don't want either of you creeps peeping on them!"

"I don't peep," said Sasuke scornfully. "Such juvenile chicanery is beneath me."

"And I don't really have to peep," added Naruto helpfully. "Sexy jutsu, remember? I can make my shadow clones look like anyone." He then laughed. "Not that I've ever actually done that, of course!" he added with a jovial wink.

"You haven't?" said Kakashi, choosing now to come meandering into the changing room after his students. "Well, that seems like a waste of a clever technique."

Sasuke snorted. Naruto laughed. Shino didn't do anything of particular note.

Kiba grumbled a bit, unamused, but he seemed to relax somewhat at the sight of an apparent authority figure. Perhaps he thought Kakashi would be a responsible adult and make sure none of the kids tried to peep through the divider, or else that the jounin's presence would deter his students from any untoward activity. Whatever the case, he hung up his clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Your sensei treating you here?" he ventured to say after a moment, addressing Naruto and Sasuke without actually looking in their direction. He had no way to know what stage of undressing they were at, and no desire to get a sudden eyeful.

"Something like that," came Sasuke's voice, the words spoken lazily. His tone was unconcerned.

"Yeah, pretty much," Naruto agreed. His voice was closer, and a second later the blond walked ahead of Kiba, heading towards the door. "And I guess that means Kurenai-sensei is doing the same?"

"Right," Kiba nodded. "I think she figured we deserved a reward for doing so well in the prelims."

Sasuke stepped forward, now, with a condescending smirk on his face.

"I think it's rather sad that you see landing even one hit on your opponent as 'doing well'," he drawled.

"Had any trouble sitting down recently, Uchiha?" Kiba retorted, glowering.

Sasuke scowled for a fraction of a second, before smirking.

"I could ask your sister the same thing, Inuzuka."

Kiba's face went maroon, and he grit his teeth. One could have been forgiven for thinking that sparks had begun to fly between the pair's eyes, with the intensity of Kiba's glare bordering on downright lethal. Sasuke was subtler in his distaste, but it was clear from the way he looked at the other genin, with a lofty and disinterested sort of contempt, that he thought of the other boy as being singularly beneath him.

This unspoken dismissal chafed Kiba like leather underwear in an August marathon, raising his hackles and making him long to let one fly and knock the so-called Uchiha prodigy down a few pegs. He probably would have done something about it, too, if not for the voice that broke in on their staredown.

"Be nice now, boys," Kakashi boredly interjected, walking past them in a towel of his own (a washcloth wrapped around the lower half of his face). He gave his student a look. "Don't get all snippy just because Akamaru bit you, Sasuke. Really, that was just your own fault for letting your guard down."

Sasuke scowled at this comment, and for a moment the look in his eyes made it seem like he would continue antagonizing Kiba just to spite his sensei. But then he stopped and shook his head, giving the Inuzuka one last dismissive look, before turning and following Naruto out into the hot spring.

Kiba reluctantly stood down, muttering under his breath about insufferable pricks, before heading out into the open air bath as well.

Shino sighed and shook his head longsufferingly.

Akamaru was busy being pampered by Hana back at the Inuzuka kennels.

"What sort of training do you plan on doing for the finals, Hinata?"

Sakura's question was not spoken very loudly, but neither were the words vocalized with any particular quietness. It was a perfectly innocent and casual inquiry, the kind of talk that wouldn't draw more than a single cursory glance from the other patrons.

Hinata sank into the water, leaning her back against the fence which divided the men's and women's sides of the hot spring. She smiled idly as the pinkette took a spot beside her, a spot which just so happened to be right in front of a small, almost unnoticeable hole in the wood. There weren't too many people here, the time being scarcely four in the afternoon, and aside from her, Sakura, and Kurenai-sensei there were only a couple other women in the water.

"Do you mean aside from general physical conditioning?" she wondered, smiling blissfully as she melted into the water. "I don't know, but I've considered working on my shoryuuken. I still can't shape the chakra on that one quite as quickly as I would like, you see... but then, there are also a couple other moves I've been conceptualizing."

"Mm, neat," Sakura hummed drowsily, sinking a little further into the water. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, I do have an idea for... sort of forming a fireball with my hands and shooting it out with a palm thrust," Hinata said, "but it's pretty tricky, and I haven't made much progress. Really, it's mostly just a theoretical exercise at this stage."

"Too bad," Sakura said, chuckling lazily. "I would have liked to see you tossing around some new moves in the final phase."

Hinata giggled, patting Sakura on the shoulder.

"What about you?" she queried. "I'm sure you won't be sitting idly by while your teammates train themselves raw."

"True, true!" Sakura laughed high and clear, earning her a dirty look from a familiar sandy blonde at the other end of the spring – Temari of Suna, whose middle brother Sakura had quite soundly defeated in the preliminaries. "Yes, well, you know me. Kakashi-sensei is planning to have us start on chakra nature transformation, I think, but as for my personal training I'll probably just be working on my medical ninjutsu and practicing my chakra control. You know, to try and squeeze a little bit more power out of my punches."

Another blonde, older and more buxom than Temari, perked up the tiniest bit at this. Hinata noticed, and she smiled inwardly.

"I can hardly fathom how you could punch any harder than you already do, Sakura," the Hyuuga lass said demurely, watching for the older woman's reaction. "Your strength is already just monstrous, to be absolutely frank."

Sakura shrugged.

"Eh. It's the difference between reducing someone to a chunky salsa and turning them into a fine paste, really," the pinkette said. "But you never know what sort of nigh indestructible freaks might be out there. More likely than not I'll need every newton of punching power I can muster, one day."

"Probably," Hinata conceded, smiling genially. "But I think your medical ninjutsu is a more valuable skill in the long run. Who else will keep Naruto and Sasuke from dying of combat injuries, if not you?"

"Hehe! Perhaps, perhaps!" said Sakura with a knowing smile. She waved a hand airily and winked. "Those two truly are hopeless without someone there to patch up their wounds..."

Her smile sharpened, then, and emerald eyes gleamed.

"Speaking of the boys, by the way, has Naruto invited you to that family reunion he's got planned, yet? Sasuke's already invited me to his," she added, puffing out her chest and grinning wider.

"But of course he has," Hinata said gracefully. "He's very eager to meet his family, you know. Since he didn't really have anyone there for him growing up..."

The blonde woman from earlier twitched a tiny bit at this comment.

"True, both our boys are poor, sad orphans, aren't they?" Sakura giggled. "I suppose that's why they need our tender affections to make their lives worthwhile~!"

"Oh, really now," Hinata splashed Sakura, laughing. "Are you sure you weren't the one mooning over Sasuke ever since your early days in the academy?"

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black," said Sakura loftily, poking a finger into Hinata's side. "Like you've mever used that kekkei genkai to get a peek of your crush in the buff."

Hinata smiled demurely.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Sakura," she replied, reclining a little more against the divider. "Are you sure all this steam isn't going straight to your head?"

"So you're saying you've never peeped on a boy you liked?" Sakura teasingly inquired. "Ever?"

"Of course not," said Hinata primly.

Sakura smirked, her eyes twinkling. She turned so that her side was to the fence, and she peeked at the small, innocuous knothole which rested roughly at her eye level. With a playful expression, she drew Hinata's attention to the opening.

"You don't feel even remotely tempted to scope out any of the cute guys who may or may not be on the other side of that fence?" she whispered, waggling her eyebrows. "Not even the tiniest bit?"

"Not at all," Hinata assured her friend.

Sakura laughed.

"Well, then. I guess that just means all the more for me❤" she chirped. And, after saying this, the pinkette promptly turned and put her eye to the knothole, a rather lecherous grin adorning her lips.

A second later, she pouted.

"Aw, darn! All I see is an eye!"

This statement, unlike most of the rest of their conversation, was loud enough to be heard by the rest of the patrons.

On the other side of the fence, Shino was dragging an unconscious Kiba out of the water. Naruto was pinning Sasuke to the spot with a stern look, deterring the Uchiha from trying to succeed where the Inuzuka had failed.

Please don't kill my godfather, that look said. And Sasuke, despite his indignation at the thought that the Toad Sage might even now be getting an eyeful of his wife's naked form – regardless of the fact that Jiraiya would rather be focused on any mature patrons who might be in the women's side of the hot spring – reluctantly acquiesced to Naruto's wish.

Kakashi wasn't stupid enough to try and get between Jiraiya and his research, Shino was too busy making sure his insensate friend didn't drown, and the few other male patrons seemed largely indifferent. Naruto was patient, and besides that he could feel Sakura's chakra on the opposite side of the fence, most likely blocking any view Jiraiya might want to get with the back of her head.

So he didn't feel any need to act just yet.

If Hinata was in any danger of being peeped on, then he might jump in and give the old pervert what for, but for now he just wanted to sit there and appreciate the fact that his former mentor was honest-to-god, truly and sincerely alive. Right there in front of him.

Also, he knew it was only a matter of time until Jiraiya was caught. Sakura was of course aware of the man's presence – Naruto had informed her the instant he realized that the onsen they were going to happened to be the current location of a chakra signature that could only have belonged to his godfather, with its size and density and minutest, oily trace of intermingled natural energy.

Sakura probably just wanted to enjoy her bath a bit before actually calling the man out – not that saying this would have calmed Sasuke, or have stayed Kiba from his doomed attempt to kick the peeping tom's ass.

So Naruto sat, and soaked, and waited. Once Jiraiya had been forcibly torn from his research, then he would approach the man about training him for the Chuunin Exams. If all else failed, he could just play up the resemblance to his parents and guilt trip the old ninja into teaching him.

At that moment, a twinge of visceral, reflexive panic reached the blond's empathic senses. His ears perked up, and he listened more closely to what was being said on the women's side.

"...all I see is an eye!"

Naruto chuckled, then, moments later, feeling the swell of righteous anger from a very familiar chakra.

"JIRAIYAAA...!"

Hehe... thought he, recognizing Tsunade's furious roar. Nice to have you back, Granny.

The onsen all but exploded, and Jiraiya let out a most unmanly shriek as the fence flew straight into his face.

...but I should probably rescue Pervy Sage before you put him six feet under.

With that weary thought, Naruto grabbed the toad summoner's arm and drew up a minuscule sliver of Kurama's chakra.

In a flash of gold light, he and Jiraiya vanished.

Kakashi blinked owlishly, even as he and the remaining men present stared in a mixture of terror, awe, and fascination as a livid Tsunade stormed heedless of decency across the point where the divider had stood only a second before. Startled bathers on both sides ducked low into the water, abashed of being seen naked by the opposite sex.

Only Tsunade seemed unconcerned, whipping her gaze over the men's half of the bath for several seconds, searching for her perverted former teammate. The more lecherous bathers on the men's side sent up prayers of gratitude, while the saner ones prayed for mercy.

Tsunade threw her head back and howled to the heavens in her rage.

"JIRAIYA!" she bellowed. "I...! AM GOING...! TO KILL YOU!"

Chapter Text

The instant Jiraiya saw that bright green eye looking back at him, he knew he was screwed. And not in the fun way, either. What started out as an excellent day seemed to have very quickly gone downhill.

When that pink-haired girl took a seat right in front of the hole in the fence, a formerly most splendid view was reduced to nothing but an eyeful of cherry blossom hair. And when she turned around to look through the knothole only to see his eye, Jiraiya knew instantly that he'd been found out.

It wasn't the first time he'd been caught peeping, and unless he died within the hour it likely wouldn't be the last, but the explosion that had followed her exclamation – water erupting into the sky as though gravity had been temporarily reversed, air screeching in his ears as a gale force wind tore through the onsen – had been worrying. The shout that accompanied that violent event was even worse. He knew the voice well, even after all these years being able to identify it immediately, and the sound of it filled him with absolute dread.

Considering that he'd almost died the last time he'd heard that voice filled with THAT much fury, Jiraiya could perhaps be forgiven for freezing up like a deer in the headlights. The divider being blown from its place and slammed forcibly into his face certainly didn't help matters. He'd flown clear across the men's side of the spring before he could even react.

The fence splintered as he slammed into rock, and Jiraiya had just enough presence of mind to appreciate the terrible and yet glorious sight in front of him, before closing his eyes and praying it would soon be over.

But then a small hand clapped on his shoulder, followed by a lurch in his gut as he was bodily dragged away at what felt like an incredible speed. Wind smacked his face and tore at his towel, G-forces squashing most of his internal organs down into the bottom of his abdominal cavity. If his mouth had been open, he probably would have swallowed a lungful of flies.

For a single, terrifying moment, Jiraiya worried that Tsunade had spirited him away to be "taken care of" where no witnesses were present. Then he decided, a moment later, that she would have just beaten him to death where they stood, and damn the consequences.

A second after being abducted from the onsen, Jiraiya was plopped down on the ground. And in the second and a half that it took for his eyes to reopen when he registered that he wasn't in any immediate danger of being painfully eviscerated, his captor was apparently able to return to the hot springs, retrieve their respective clothes, and then come back without getting so much as a single hair out of place.

Not that anyone would have noticed, with that untidy golden mop.

It took three seconds of staring to register that, yes, those were Minato's eyes staring at him out of Kushina's face, Minato's hair and skin stretched over a distinctly Uzumaki bone structure. And the smile had a little of both: Kushina's brash and irrepressible mirth glowing with Minato's warmth and quiet confidence.

He knew immediately who this was, standing in front of him and depositing both of their outfits onto the ground. There wasn't anyone else it could be. Such a powerful resemblance could only come from direct, immediate relation, and only one person in the world was so closely and equally akin to both Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki.

"...Naruto?" he said, frankly dumbstruck at running into the kid like this.

"The one and only," the blond cheekily replied. "Though a couple of people also know me as Menma. And you must be Jiraiya; I've heard an awful lot about you!"

"Ah, I see," Jiraiya mumbled, still a little bit in shock. He shook himself dry, and moved to put his clothes back on. "How much have you heard, exactly?"

"Kakashi-sensei mentioned that you taught my dad," Naruto replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Who taught him, in turn." A grin that showed far too many teeth. "Also, that you're my godfather. Me and my teammates may or may not have been plying him with liquor at the time."

Jiraiya paused. "Yeah, I taught your dad, and your dad taught Sakumo's brat," he said neutrally, sidestepping the comment about him being Naruto's godfather and pulling up his trousers. Then he hummed, thoughtful. "But Kakashi's your jounin instructor, huh? He must be teaching you kids all sorts of tricks."

"Well, he is starting us on elemental affinities," Naruto said with a laugh, haphazardly tossing on his own clothes. "So I guess that's a thing."

Jiraiya cocked an eyebrow at this. "Really? That's some pretty advanced stuff for fresh genin," he remarked, although he didn't say it with any particular hint of disapproval. "I suppose he's tested your affinities, then?"

Naruto nodded.

"Sakura's got earth and water," he said matter-of-factly.

"Dual affinities?" he said. "Wow, that's rare. What, does she have a bloodline limit or something?"

"Or something," Naruto chuckled. "Not that it's really that impressive next to me or Sasuke, haha. He's got quintuple affinities." He paused, and stroked his chin. "Unless you count yin and yang, too, but almost everyone can use at least one of those, can't they? So I don't think many people do."

Jiraiya's eyes bugged out of their sockets. "Quintuple—?!" he exclaimed, immediately thinking of Nagato, the poor kid.

"Yeah," Naruto said, as though this wasn't any big deal. "Claims it's because of that fancy eye he's got. That rinnegan of his."

Jiraiya felt like he must have been suffering a mild stroke at that moment.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly," he said slowly, gaping in spite of himself. "It almost sounded like you said rinnegan."

"That would probably be because that's exactly what I said," Naruto cheerfully quipped. "Not like it means all that much, though. He's still only the second strongest genin on Team Seven."

"What? The kid who apparently possesses a doujutsu so powerful that the last man to wield it was considered a physical GOD is only the second strongest genin on your squad?" Jiraiya said disbelievingly. "What? Hell, don't tell me that Sakura girl has mokuton or something."

Naruto waved a hand dismissively.

"No, just stupidly monstrous physical strength and a frightening aptitude for medical jutsu," he drawled. "I, on the other hand, am pure awesome incarnate."

A beat.

"...Well, me and Kurama," he amended a second later, grinning sheepishly.

Jiraiya blinked.

"Kurama?"

"Yeah, though you'd know him as kyuubi, wouldn't you? Or maybe Kyuubi, if you're using it like a proper name or title or something." Naruto beamed. "He's actually not that bad a guy, once you get past all the misanthropy and indiscriminate violence. You know, he hasn't called me a puny human in years? That's real progress!"

Jiraiya stared at Naruto, deeply perturbed.

"I-I see..." he mumbled weakly, slowly shaking his head and taking a seat on the grass. "Tell me, Naruto, does the Kyuu—er, does Kurama ever... say, tell you to do things? Things you wouldn't normally do otherwise?"

Naruto scowled at this, as though reminded of an unpleasant smell.

"Hrm. Well, he does nag me an awful lot about getting paperwork done on time," the blond said, frowning. "And he gets all fussy when I forget to wash my hands or brush my teeth. Says I'm already gross enough without adding bad hygiene to the mix."

Jiraiya stared.

"Ah," he said. "Ah, is that so? That's... interesting." He paused, looking a touch anxious. "Um, is there anything else?"

"I dunno," Naruto muttered. "He sometimes threatens to eat my soul and says he'll make me kill all my friends and burn down the village if I don't do as he says, but that's usually only when I forget to feed him. Never actually follows through on those threats, either."

Jiraiya stared and stared, completely at a loss for anything else to say.

"Feed him?" he said at last, continuing to stare blankly at the lad. "What?"

"Mostly fried tofu and inarizushi," Naruto elaborated, if perhaps not in the way Jiraiya wished. "Though sometimes I'll get him a couple oxen or a brace of wild boars if he's been good."

Jiraiya opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to say something but unable to actually formulate any coherent expression of his thoughts or questions. It made him look rather like a goldfish.

"N-No, I mean... wha? How?"

Naruto stared at Jiraiya, looking at the man like he had just asked something patently absurd.

"What, isn't it obvious?"

No, Jiraiya wanted to say. No, of course it isn't obvious. But he couldn't bring himself to actually say that. It was just too surreal a conversation to try and approach logically, and his brain refused to even try and apply any sort of sense or reason to Naruto's statements.

So instead he decided to try and steer the conversation in a direction where he could be the expert, and not the gawking imbecile.

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, a mix of dismissive and evasive all in one. "Well, if you're really on as good terms with Kurama as you say you are, then I suppose it should be safe for you to learn how to use it—um, his chakra."

Naruto cocked his head to one side.

"I think I've already got a pretty good hang of that, actually. Sasuke and Sakura helped me out a lot with figuring out the specifics."

And then he clapped his hands together, literally lighting up with a shroud of inhumanly dense chakra. The boy was clad in flames of gold, a raiment of light tattooed with arcane markings. Grass grew greener and springier at his feet, and the air tasted somehow cleaner, fresher – alive with something pure and primeval.

Jiraiya blinked.

Naruto smiled innocently.

"How's this?" he inquired.

"...how do you feel about toads, kid?" Jiraiya asked. He hadn't felt this eager to teach someone since back when Minato had been his student. It seemed that, in at least one aspect, Naruto took after his father more than his mother.

"They're awesome, of course," Naruto glibly responded. "Almost as great as hot babes."

The grin that followed nearly threatened to split Jiraiya's face in half.

"I think we're going to get along famously," said the Toad Sage. "Hopefully Kakashi won't mind me abducting you for a bit of private tutoring."

"I'm sure he won't," Naruto replied.

"Where on earth is Naruto?" Kakashi wondered with a frown, sporting a heck of a shiner over his transplanted sharingan and a sizable hematoma under his messy silver bedhead. He looked around in the onsen, swiveling his head this way and that as he scanned the waters for the short, cocksure blond.

An earthen barrier decorated with canine visages courtesy of the Copy Ninja split the men's and women's sides of the hot spring, functioning in lieu of the fence Tsunade had shattered. Several of the bathers on this side of the spring were dazed and glassy-eyed, either haunted or delighted by memories of Tsunade's brief rampage. Unlike Kakashi, most of them were physically untouched, the civilian bathers having been smarter than to try and get in the furious kunoichi's way.

Kakashi himself had only intervened out of reflex, and not any actual conscious decision. If he'd been thinking straight, he would have simply laid low and waited for the storm to pass. And all his attempt to stop Tsunade had really accomplished, anyways, was to mildly inconvenience the one woman stampede for a second or two.

Thankfully, Sakura and Sasuke had managed to pick up their sensei's slack and intercept the blonde ballistic missile before she could do any serious damage to him. Between a crimson look from Sasuke, and a seemingly gentle touch from Sakura, the legendary kunoichi was handily stopped in her tracks.

If Kakashi focused, he could even now hear his female student on the other side of the impromptu new divider, expertly soothing and defusing the pissed, hungover Tsunade. The only one of his students to have not played a role in stopping the furious woman's brief but devastating rampage was Naruto, who had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Looking sidelong at the last Uchiha, Kakashi again idly wondered where Naruto might have gotten to in the few seconds of chaos that had erupted following Tsunade's initial outburst. It did not escape his notice that Jiraiya – whose peeping habits were responsible for the blonde's eruption – was ALSO nowhere to be seen. This didn't necessarily mean that there was a connection, mind, but to completely dismiss the possibility would have been imprudent.

"He probably slipped away with his godfather," said Sasuke. He was boredly searching the water for his towel, which had come undone in the recent confusion (much to Sakura's audible delight/amusement when she saw it). "I notice they both vanished shortly after the fence came down. I doubt that's a coincidence."

Kakashi sighed, wondering for the umpteenth time whether it had really been prudent to let that particular detail in regards to Jiraiya's relation to Naruto slip when he had...

"Yes, that does seem likely, doesn't it?" he murmured. "But it would have been nice to receive a heads up before he went and stole one of my pupils – I'd been planning on teaching him a new technique. And maybe Sakura, too."

Sasuke gave Kakashi a look, arching one of his eyebrows.

"And me?"

"You already copied my Raikiri," Kakashi said, sounding just a tad petulant. "I don't even know how you did that, either, considered how much fog there was, but..."

He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Even aside from the fact that Sasuke had copied it at all, it was also a tad irksome that the boy could already perform the technique sans handseals, and a seemingly indefinite number of times per day, at that. Kakashi was finding it surprisingly easy to understand why so many people had resented the Uchiha and the sharingan, back before the nigh total annihilation of both.

A scholar of literature probably could have written an entire essay on all the levels of irony of the Copy Ninja being annoyed over having his one, original, signature killing move copied by his own damn student, but Kakashi wouldn't have cared about that. He didn't much feel like being reasonable on that matter.

Sasuke shrugged.

"My eyesight's better than yours," he replied dismissively. This was only a half lie.

With the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan and all the utter hax of his One-Eye Rinnegan, Sasuke really did have an absurd degree of visual acuity, surpassed in range and insight only by masters of the byakugan. Of course, the REAL reason he could use his sensei's only original jutsu was obviously because he had learned it from the man himself more than twenty years ago. But the battle on the bridge, where Kakashi had employed that jutsu to counter and sunder Zabuza's Executioner Blade (pestered into pulling out all the stops so as to keep from being completely shown up by his students), had provided Sasuke with a golden opportunity to claim to have seen and copied it.

A perfect excuse for being able to use the jutsu, which he could vaguely recall learning some time not long before Itachi's return to Konoha. Some details faded with time, but Sasuke's memory of having his chidori blocked and arm broken by his older brother was still quite vivid – a mixture of the sharingan's eidetic memory, and the tendency of certain aspects of traumatic events to remain starkly clear in the mind even years after the fact.

"Hmph. Well, whatever," Kakashi muttered peevishly, sinking back into the water. He sighed. "If those two really did escape together, then I bet it's only a matter of time before Naruto guilts Lord Jiraiya into teaching him a few new jutsu, anyways..."

"Look on the bright side," Sasuke said, gesturing vaguely with his one hand. "If he takes over training Naruto for the Chuunin Exams, that'll leave you with more time to show me and Sakura some useful tricks."

Kakashi huffed, still feeling a bit sore over possibly losing the chance to teach his sensei's son the rasengan. In another time he wouldn't have been too bothered, having thought Naruto unprepared and too immature to learn such a jutsu so early anyways, but in this iteration he honestly believed that the kid was as ready as he'd ever be to learn his father's original technique.

"Sakura is a very bright girl," he muttered after a few seconds of bullheaded silence. "I suppose she could probably manage something like the Water Dragon Jutsu without too much trouble. And I did copy a fair few doton techniques at the tail-end of the war."

"And as for me...?" Sasuke prompted, eyeing his sensei expectantly.

"I've seen what you can do with that doujutsu of yours," Kakashi flippantly replied, waving a hand airily. "I'm sure you'll manage just fine with the skills you've already mastered. And it's not like you can't just copy any jutsu she might happen to use later on."

Sasuke shrugged.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "But it's not like you wouldn't do the same, if you were in my position."

Kakashi did not dignify this with a response.

What the fuck is wrong with these Konoha bitches.

This thought echoed through Temari's brain, a statement of her disbelief more than a genuine inquiry, as she stared and watched one of the other genin kunoichi to advance to the finals calmly and nonchalantly talk down a homicidal, hungover Tsunade.

Yes.

Tsunade.

Of the goddamn Sannin.

Who had been screaming threats of murder and mutilation at a man named Jiraiya. A name that all too often went together with those of Tsunade and Orochimaru in the history books. Myobokuzan no Gama Sennin, as he was said to introduce himself.

Too much of a coincidence to actually BE an effing coincidence.

At least Temari now knew why the woman's face had seemed so vaguely familiar. The Slug Princess was still listed in Suna's bingo books, and Chiyo-baasama had certainly told her and Kankuro enough rambling tales about her old rivalry with the Legendary Sucker to make certain details stick.

It took her a moment of silent thought and a slightest hint of growing dread to appreciate the fact that no less than two of the famed Sannin seemed to be present in Konoha, and not a month before the long-planned invasion. An invasion she was distantly aware to have planned between her father and the rogue third member of the Hidden Leaf's most legendary trio.

Temari was probably in a state of mild shock, standing there in the hot spring and staring at that pink haired little freak of nature who had beaten Kankuro in the preliminaries. A rosy-tressed little medic ninja who had shrugged off the puppet expert's poisons like they were nothing and thrown him into the far wall just by flicking him on the forehead, and who now was in the process of patiently soothing a seething Tsunade, looking for all the world like she had done this a million times before.

She wasn't entirely certain what, exactly, to think about this, but the general impression was pretty clear. Temari had thought that Lee kid seemed absurdly fast and strong... but what she'd just seen from Tsunade's conniption fit had made the bowl-cut taijutsu freak look slow and feeble by comparison.

For goodness sake, the woman had practically upended the entire onsen with a single punch! The bow wave from her fist had split the waters like a red sea, and the shock of her knuckles impacting the divider was felt in the bones of everyone present. Some of the smaller civilian women in the bath had been sent flying clear out of the water, and the towels of those who'd been closest to Tsunade when she snapped were hanging off of their frames in tatters, tossed and buffeted about by nothing but the sheer air pressure from her swift and violent movements.

Temari couldn't say for sure what was scarier. The fact that the woman had done all of this without even apparently trying, or that she'd so easily flown into a murderous rage. Temari didn't much like the idea of being peeked at by some shifty old pervert, either, but Tsunade's reaction to the revelation of a peeping tom had been terrifyingly disproportionate.

If that was how the woman reacted to someone peeping on her in the bath, who was to say what she'd do in response to an offense actually deserving of violent retribution? Like, say, her home village being invaded by traitorous allies?

Temari would not want to be present to witness such an event.

And for the first time, she felt truly appreciative of the orders Baki-sensei had relayed to her and her brothers only a few hours earlier, just before the start of the surprise preliminary round.

"Remember: until such a time as you are instructed otherwise, you three are to act under the assumption of continuing to honor our village's treaties with Konoha. Respect the local authorities, and do nothing to provoke unnecessary conflict or hostility."

Kankuro had been visibly perplexed by these seemingly redundant instructions, and Gaara hadn't looked like he was paying attention at all, but Temari got the subtext. Especially when Baki then added:

"Lord Kazekage has seen fit to indefinitely postpone all of your previous standing missions for the duration of our time here in Konoha. Be grateful."

It was an ambiguous enough statement to not draw any undue suspicion from those not in the know, but clear enough also to be understood by those with the proper background information. Heaven only knew why their father had made this decision, but Temari and her brothers had only one standing mission that could be 'indefinitely postponed': the role which had been planned for them to play out in the invasion of Konoha.

And considering the fact that Gaara's part in the plot was kind of seriously crucial to actually pulling the whole thing off, there was only one conclusion she could draw. New intelligence must have surfaced which put the integrity of the operation into serious question – intelligence worrisome enought to warrant potentially calling off the whole shebang.

Intelligence, for instance, such as the presence of TWO of the Legendary Sannin in Konoha, just hanging around in the village for no apparent reason. That would certainly be a big enough factor to potentially make it too risky to go ahead with the invasion plans.

Temari could appreciate that.

Especially after seeing what one of them could do without even trying.

I am so glad I don't have to live with these crazy freaks, she decided. They make Gaara look almost normal in comparison.

And that was the scariest thing she'd thought in years.

When Shizune awoke to a throbbing headache and a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, she wasn't sure whether to feel glad or dismayed.

On one hand, considering that she was lying naked in an unfamiliar bed with a warm and distinctly male body spooning her, the heretofore ruefully single woman was secretly feeling a hint of cautious elation. Her aunt, charge, and mentor may have been content to live the life of a bachelorette wandering from town to town in a drunken haze, but Shizune had lately become increasingly aware of the fact that, in close to twenty-five years of life, she herself had not once had any kind of serious romantic relationship.

She wasn't a little girl anymore, and all those years she'd spent traveling with Tsunade, focusing so heavily on just looking after the older medic and making certain she didn't get herself into too much trouble, had done very little for Shizune's personal life. Just being able to wake up in a stranger's bed after a night spent drinking felt strangely freeing. For once, she'd had a chance to forget about being the responsible one and actually have a good time herself.

All thanks to being back in Konoha.

On the OTHER hand, however... considering that she was lying naked in an unfamiliar bed with a warm body curled up behind her, Shizune also felt a more than a little embarrassed. She had no idea who the person spooning her was, and while she may not have been at all averse to the thought of hooking up with a nice, handsome fellow, she wasn't half so desperate for a meaningful relationship as to hop into bed with the first guy to offer.

...at least, she HOPED she wasn't. But she'd seen firsthand what alcohol could do to the judgement of even very intelligent and respectable people, and there was no guarantee that the man embracing her was someone she would have any serious interest in while sober.

Hesitantly, gingerly, Shizune pried the hands off of her waist and inched a little towards the edge of the bed. She pulled the covers off of herself and sat up, turning hesitantly to glance at the man whose bed she was sharing.

For a moment, she just looked and stared at the dusky complexion, brown hair, scarred nose, and peacefully sleeping face. She drank it all in, feeling a twinge of appreciation. He was handsome, she noted, in a nonthreatening and almost boyish sort of way, with lips that looked well-suited to smiling, and a toned but lean musculature which seemed to hint at a possible shinobi background.

Cheeks grew warm after a few moments of staring at the man, and Shizune abashedly tore her gaze away before it could drift too far south.

"Well, he definitely looks very nice..." she murmured to herself.

And, trying very hard not to look back in her bedmate's direction, she cast an eye around the room in search of her clothes.

Hopefully Tsunade-sama hasn't gotten into too much trouble while I was away... she thought, reaching up to snag her panties from the ceiling fan. Though I'm sure she won't be very happy when she realizes where we are...

She spared another glance for the man she'd apparently slept with and smiled a touch guiltily as her gaze wandered more freely over his form, ruefully thinking for the briefest of moments that maybe she shouldn't have left her mentor all alone at that inn, because who knew what sort of trouble the woman might be getting into?

Naturally, Iruka chose then to wake up and open his eyes to see Shizune standing over him in the buff, her dark eyes glued half-longingly and half-regretfully to his naked body.

It was terribly awkward for both of them.

It was to gray skies and a light drizzle that Itachi Uchiha awoke that morning; his eyes opened and he sat up, rising into consciousness with an uncanny ease. He was instantly alert, though not tense or nervous. Quiet confidence was mingled with just a hint of clear caution.

No cue of drowsiness or stupor was there to be seen in his visage as he arose from his sleeping bag, dressed ready for a fight, shooting coolly wary glances hither and yon. He stood and swept up his sleeping bag with a single fluid motion, packing it automatically and mechanically. Languidly he assessed his surroundings, analyzing and mentally cataloging every tiniest detail with sharp crimson eyes.

Rain clouds drifted overhead, casting a dismal pall over the lowlands of River Country. Wet and runny ashes, the only remnants of a smokeless cook fire from the previous night, were washing away in tiny rivulets. A damp, pervasive chill hung in the air, numbing fingers and stiffening joints.

Small and beady eyes greeted the Uchiha's rising, pale blue lips curling into a sharp-toothed smile.

"Did you have a good night's rest, Itachi-san?" Kisame Hoshigaki politely inquired. The serenity of the man's expression evoked an eerie dissonance as he stroked the death's head pommel of a thickly swaddled greatsword, the picture indicative of an elritch disconnect between his monstrous visage and courteous mien.

"Good enough," Itachi curtly replied. "How did your watch go?"

"Well enough," Kisame answered, wryly mimicking Itachi. "This is a quiet country, and nothing much comes out in this sort of weather besides. Samehada and I haven't caught whiff of anything larger than a squirrel all night."

The shark-like man patted the hilt of his gigantic weapon. Itachi nodded, wordlessly showing his understanding. Silence reigned between them for a minute or so as one sat and waited for the other to finish cleaning up his half of the camp.

"Have you eaten, yet?" the raven-haired youth asked at length, once he had sealed away his sleeping bag and combed the site for any overt traces of their presence. Water dripped from the rim of his straw hat as he adjusted it on his head.

"Just a food pill and the last piece of venison jerky," said Kisame. "We should still have a few pounds of dried fruit and plenty other rabbit food, though, unless you've been doing a bit of midnight snacking during your watches."

Itachi hummed and nodded.

"Yes, that sounds about right. Those supplies should be more than enough to last us until we meet up with our client..." he said. "...even discounting the food pills."

"Ah, yes. Our client," Kisame heartily chuckled, standing and slinging Samehada over his shoulder. "It has been quite a while since I've done a straightforward escort mission like this. And to the Chuunin Exams, of all destinations!" He grinned, showing off a considerable number of teeth. "Quite generous of the old fellow, really. Wouldn't you say? Especially when he could have contracted a team of ninja from his country's own hidden village."

"We're cheaper," was Itachi's response, terse but accurate.

Shrugging, Kisame turned and started off, knowing that his partner would catch up in just a second.

"Do you suppose there will be any talents worth scoping out at these exams?" the former Mist jounin wondered. "I don't think I have been to one since my own."

Itachi was quiet. It was clear from context and his knowledge of Kisame's personality that by 'talents worth scoping out', the man meant people who might be worth fighting at some future point in time.

Unbidden, Itachi's mind went to the contents of a certain letter, drawing up from memory the date of a certain function announced therein. He thought of his little brother, whom he had spared from death what felt like a lifetime ago, and who had seemingly sent him that very letter quite out of the blue.

"Maybe a few," he said ambiguously.

Kisame grinned, spying the pensive look on his partner's face.

"Hehehe, is that so? Mm... then perhaps this one genin team I've heard about will be there," he mused. "Do you remember them? Those children who supposedly sent my former colleague, Zabuza-san, slinking back to Kiri with his tail between his legs."

Itachi looked off into the distance. The wind shifted, rustling their cloaks and flecking their faces with a light smattering of cool raindrops.

"Ah, I believe I know who you're talking about," he decided to say. "That's the team with the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. Their jounin sensei is Kakashi Hatake – my captain for a while, back when I was in ANBU."

Kisame's smile widened and became aught but two opposing rows of teeth filed to unnaturally sharp points.

"Oh, is that so?" he murmured, dark eyes glittering with mirth. "My, my, my... it sounds like this will be a most entertaining diversion."

"Yes..." Itachi murmured absently. "Yes, so it does."

OMAKE:

quitting while you're ahead

or,

a snake's retirement plan

o0o0o0o

...and so, given recent events, it seems prudent to assume that certain aforementioned plans have been compromised. Thusly, until such a time as the source of this possible leak has been uncovered, any plans which certain individuals have been making should probably be postponed, if not canceled altogether.

Respectfully yours,
"Sakin Rasetsu"

On a small private beach in the Crescent Moon Kingdom, dressed rather incongruously in sunglasses, sandals, and a hawaiian shirt, Orochimaru read this message with a scowl. Crumpling the scroll in his hand, he let out an irritated sigh. Then he shook his head and reclined in his lawnchair, sipping at a dry martini.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

Orochimaru looked up at his butler, an elderly and smartly dressed gentleman.

"No, Jeeves," he answered, waving a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I believe they must have had the wrong address."

The butler nodded; his expression was unchanging.

"Of course, sir. Would you like another martini?"

"Yes, Jeeves," said Orochimaru, smiling loftily and reclining in the sunlight. "That would be most excellent."

Chapter Text

Hanabi Hyuuga adored her big sister. This was a simple, indisputable fact, as sure and self evident as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Grass was green, the sky was blue, and Hanabi admired Hinata.

She loved her sister's kindness, how Hinata would play with her even if she was exhausted from training, how Hinata would listen to her childish worries and give her reassurance. Her sister was strong – and almost always had been in Hanabi's eyes, no matter what other clan members may have thought in the past. Her sister was brave and gentle and pretty, and so kind.

And so strong.

Hanabi had always believed her sister was amazing, that Hinata Hyuuga was a remarkable person. She had always admired her oneesama, had always looked up to her and hoped to one day be every bit as wonderful a person as she was. Only once or twice had that childlike faith faltered, but every time her beliefs had ultimately been vindicated – at least to her young mind.

In this instance, however, something was different. For the first time in a long while, Hanabi's belief in Hinata's strength was mirrored by the rest of the clan. Hinata had irrefutably proven, the day after her graduation, just how amazing a kunoichi she really was.

At the time, Hanabi's faith in her sister's strength had begun to falter. She'd seen Hinata fall short in spars against Neji-niisan, and even lose in a fight against herself as well. Her, Hanabi, a girl several years Hinata's junior!

It had shaken her worldview to realize, seemingly, that her sister was in fact weak, and that many among their clan viewed Hinata as unfit to assume a leadership position. While being passed over for the spot of clan head would not result in anything like getting bound with the Caged Bird Seal (that being applied only to sons who could actually traditionally start branch families of their own, and to their children), it still seemed to Hanabi as though being passed over like that would have been a dreadful thing to happen to anyone, let alone her big sister.

And for a while she'd ruefully, worriedly, regretfully thought along similar lines to the other clan members, although she still dearly loved her sister. Hinata-neesama was still Hinata-neesama, whether weak or strong... but it had nonetheless felt disappointing in a way, to think that she had surpassed her sister like this. That victory in their spar had felt hollow, tasting like ash in her mouth. Hinata could have won, should have won – she was more experienced, after all, stronger and faster than her baby sister – but she had been unable to follow through on the opening she had created, reluctant to strike her beloved sibling, even in a mere practice fight.

And for a while, Hanabi had foolishly bought into the assumptions of the other clan members that this kindheartedness, this nature of gentility and gentleness, somehow proved Hinata's weakness. That because Hinata had been unwilling to hurt her baby sister, she need must have been inadequate and incapable, insufficiently skilled to carry the mantle of the Hyuuga clan's leadership.

But then came that fateful day, the day when Hinata-neesama proved her strength beyond any shadow of a doubt. Hanabi had seen her sister from afar, that morning, awoken from her slumber by screams and crashing noises.

What she saw, when she dared to peer out her window, utterly awed and amazed her. Hanabi Hyuuga beheld her sister storming determinedly out of the compound, brushing aside dozens of full grown branch house members – each one of them a proven and experienced shinobi – like they were but minor nuisances. Hanabi recognized scarcely half of the strikes her sister used, and she gawked on in dumbstruck wonderment as Hinata completely humiliated skilled and able-bodied ninja up to twice her size and thrice her age.

With this single spectacle, Hanabi Hyuuga's faith in her elder sister was restored and redoubled. Starry-eyed, she had watched her sister punch through the outer wall of the compound without even touching it, inwardly gushing and squeeing with relief, vindication, and a tiniest hint of shame for ever having thought to doubt her sister's prowess.

Since that day, Hanabi's admiration for her sister had only grown. Where most of the other clan members (even her own father, to a certain extent) respected Hinata only with an equal measure of fear, Hanabi saw no reason to shy away from her sister, or cower in her presence.

Whether weak or strong, Hinata-neesama was Hinata-neesama. Nothing could ever change this.

Much though certain people might have wished otherwise.

"Neji-niisan, Neji-niisan!" Hanabi cried out excitedly when she saw her cousin come walking into the clan head's house, doubtless to give a report on his progress in the Chuunin Exams. "You're back! Did you see sister? How is she? How well did she do? Is she a chuunin now? Are you a chuunin now?"

She chattered away until she was breathless, firing off this rapid barrage of questions in her excitement. She hadn't seen Neji or her sister in nearly a week! And sure Neji had been gone for similar lengths, once or twice, on a C-rank mission with his team, but the longest Hinata had ever been away from home had been two-and-a-half days, when she and her team had gone to take care of a troublesome boar on the outskirts of a rural farming village. A whole week of separation seemed nearly unprecedented to young Hanabi!

Neji blinked, staring blankly at his cousin. Legal cousin. Genetically a half-sister, since their fathers had been identical twins, but no one really counted that.

But he stared at Hanabi, and his mouth creaked halfway open as if meaning to speak but unsure of what to actually say. He wasn't entirely certain how to approach Hanabi, for a variety of reasons both obvious and more subtle. Being reminded of Hinata and the Chuunin Exams made him think of her fight with Tenten in the preliminaries, which caused him to recall that his female teammate had been snappish with him all day, ever since his attempt at reassuring her after her defeat had backfired.

And remembering this fact after having tried rather hard to forget it over the past several minutes stirred a strangely uncomfortable sensation in his gut, a sort of faint tightness in his chest, and an ill humor at the back of his mind. His lips threatened to twitch downward in a scowl, and only a near absolute control over his facial expressions on Neji's part managed to keep it from actually forming.

Dimly, he wondered why it irked him as much as it did that Tenten wasn't speaking with him at present. Might it be that he felt a certain camaraderie with her, as the only other seemingly sane member of Team Guy?

Shaking his head, he discarded this train of thought.

"...Hinata-sama was well, the last I saw her," he finally said, looking Hanabi mostly in the eye. His glance was a tiny bit off to the side, but otherwise it seemed sincere. "And no, none of us are chuunin just yet. There's still one final phase to the exams, but that won't be for a month."

There. That should be enough information to satiate the girl. Inwardly nodding to himself, convinced that he would now be able to go on his way unmolested, Neji turned and made to continue further inside, only to be stopped by Hanabi's hand on his arm.

He flinched at the touch, a reaction obvious enough for even an untrained civilian to notice. Hanabi seemingly ignored it.

"How did she do?" she asked, reminding Neji once again of Hinata's match with Tenten, and the subsequent... situation... that had occured between himself and the brunette as a result.

"Superbly," he said only half more than growled, unable to keep a slight trace of bitterness out of his voice.

Hanabi eyed him strangely at this remark, no doubt catching his less than pleased tone. For a moment he got the impression that the younger girl was about to make some insightful remark on his apparent bad mood, wondering perhaps if there might not be a very particular reason (aside, perhaps, from the rather obvious) that Hinata doing so well in the Chuunin Exams should upset him. An odango-haired, female reason, perhaps?

She didn't, thankfully. At least, not in the way that a small part of Neji secretly feared.

"Ah. Did you fail the exam?" she asked, about as tactful as you could expect from a kid her age.

Which wasn't very.

Neji's face colored the slightest bit, and this was all the answer Hanabi needed.

There were times that Yugao sincerely regretted joining the ANBU. Certainly, it was great to serve the village from the shadows and eliminate its enemies under the guise of anonymity and all that. Yes, she was proud to put life and limb on the line for the sake of the Lord Hokage and the village as a whole, but the work was hardly all sunshine and daisies.

Sometimes – all too often, it seemed – she had those days where it felt like she would have been better served just staying at home. Like the night after the Uchiha Massacre. God, that one had been a waking nightmare. There were some things no man (or woman) should have to see, and the bloody aftermath of young Itachi's rampage had to be right at the top of that list.

Or maybe that one mission in the capital, when she and her team had busted those human traffickers. Or perhaps deposing a genocidal regime in that one impoverished, war-torn nation. It still made her sick to her stomach to think about what some people were willing to do for a quick buck, or a little power over their fellow man. Simply despicable.

But, today.

Ohhh, today. THIS, right here, had to be one of the worst missions she'd ever been forced to accept. It may not have been dirty, gruesome, or involved in any significant way with the really more abominable aspects of human nature, but it was still more humiliating and degrading than even the sleaziest of seduction gambits.

"Would you mind repeating that, ma'am? What exactly happened in your inn's hot springs? You said something about... an explosion, correct?"

Yugao Uzuki, feeling more thankful than ever for the relative anonymity afforded to her by the porcelain mask of her ANBU uniform, held a pencil and notepad in hand as she took the inkeeper's statement. The okami was a stooped and wizened thing – half blind, to judge by the way she was squinting, with graying hair tied up in a heavily dated fashion, and a well-kept but nonetheless very old yukata hanging off her frame, once vibrant colors now faded into a near monochrome after decades of wear and washing.

Opposite this diminutive, elderly matron, Yugao must certainly have looked like some faceless sentinel of almighty bureaucracy, sword in sheath and pencil in hand. She most definitely felt the part, much though she wished otherwise.

With the Chuunin Exams in full swing, she and most of her fellow ANBU had been assigned to patrolling the village, doing rounds and keeping the peace. No exciting missions for them, no. Nothing but day in, day out plodding the beat, breaking up fights and escorting drunks to holding cells. Despite Konoha being a ninja village populated primarily by individuals who were emotionally... iffy... at the best of times and capable of countless fantastic, frankly absurdly destructive feats, it was actually very boring most days.

Like, eighty-five, ninety percent of the time there was never anything of note happening. Even on many occasions when it seemed like there might be something interesting about to go down, it usually turned out to be just as dull and unremarkable as everything else.

"Yes, yes, it was like an explosion," said the innkeeper, gesturing vaguely with a gnarled hand. "I could feel the earth shaking from inside the kitchen, and the noise... ah, it was deafening. A great, loud BOOM! The whole inn shook from the force of it, I tell you."

Yugao nodded, absentmindedly taking notes as she thought of the nice, quiet night she had planned for her and her boyfriend. Imagining how Hayate would react to seeing her in that barely-there teddy he'd gotten her was just about the only thing giving her the will to carry on through the day's mind-numbing tedium.

"I see," said the violette mechanically. "Do you know if anyone was injured, or what exactly might have caused this explosion?"

"No, no one was hurt," said the okami. "I don't believe so. I haven't been back there yet myself, since the explosion, but a few of the bathers have come in since then, and none of them looked any the worse for wear. Only a couple of bumps and scrapes among the whole lot."

"You don't say," Yugao muttered, tapping her pencil on the notepad. "Have any of them said anything to you about the incident?"

The innkeeper frowned thoughtfully at this question. She nodded silently after a moment.

"One or two customers did come to me with complaints of a peeping-tom and some drunk having a bit of a shouting fit on the women's side of the springs," she said, "but I don't see how there could be any connection between the explosion and that."

Yugao sweatdropped, immediately making the obvious connection.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if the innkeeper might not be getting a touch senile in her old age. This was a ninja village after all, and already it seemed obvious to the ANBU operative that this whole kerfuffle had probably just been caused by an unstealthy pervert and a violently shy kunoichi. Nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary there, unfortunately enough.

Sighing, she put away the notepad and headed in the direction of the onsen to find the persons responsible for disturbing the peace and bring them in to be dealt with appropriately by the civil authorities. A dreadfully dull task for a member of the Konoha Black Ops, hardly challenging or engaging no matter which way you cut it. Sure, it HAD to be done, but necessity rarely made things more enjoyable.

Ah, if only something interesting would happen, Yugao thought as she stepped through the door into the hot spring. Like a good old fashioned murder mystery, perhaps, or a plot to embroil the Hidden Leaf in war! Oh, that would be simply swell, wouldn't it? Much more exciting than this, at the very least.

It was with these wistful thoughts of more interesting happenings running through her mind that Yugao Uzuki surveyed the women's side of the hot spring. She quirked an eyebrow under her mask at the sight of an earthen wall dividing the onsen in place of the customary wooden fence, and found herself mildly surprised to recognize Kakashi's handiwork there.

(The dog faces were a dead giveaway)

She also took note of some superficial damage to surrounding structures, and saw that the perimeter fence looked like it would probably need a fair few repairs, although it was still standing and in one piece, more or less.

Not even bothering to make her body language seem at all authoritative, Yugao assessed the lingering bathers and noisily cleared her throat.

"Ahem."

She faked a cough, casting a disinterested eye over a handful of young girls – one a sandy blonde, another somewhere between blue and black, and a third with blindingly cherry blossom pink locks. She also took a moment to espy the familiar visage of genjutsu mistress Kurenai, who looked like she was willfully and wearily closing her eyes to whatever may have been happening.

The last woman of note was another blonde, and a very surly-looking one at that. She was redfaced and droopy-eyed, with brown eyes and enormous... hands. Yugao frowned at the sight of the woman, her expression going unseen. Despite being in a bath at this very moment, this woman seemed to have something oddly untidy and disheveled about her appearance, something in the glaze of her eyes or the smell of cheap sake on her breath (which could be detected even from across the onsen, albeit very faintly), that instantly caused Yugao to peg her as the purported drunk.

She looked once more at the other bathers, who had all turned and now gave her their mostly undivided attention. Then she blinked, looking back at the hungover-looking blonde. She stared for three seconds.

She looked back at the others. Blinked once, looked back at the blonde.

Behind a porcelain vizard fashioned in a vaguely animal likeness, Yugao's mouth went slack.

"...huh?" she said blankly, staring at the distinctly recognizable visage of the most legendary kunoichi to ever come out of the Hidden Leaf Village. "Wha...?!"

Tsunade frowned at the ANBU operative who was standing just inside the entrance, near the edge of the spring where the stones were smooth and wet.

"What are you looking at?" she rumbled, arms crossed above her chest.

Yugao blinked, suddenly regretting her wish for something interesting to happen. It was easy to piece together the gist of what had happened, knowing now that Tsunade of the Sannin, of all people, had been in this very hot spring when it happened!

"Errrr..." she was frozen for a moment, uncertain what to say.

Most citizens would comply meekly if told by an ANBU to come with them, and usually those who didn't were relatively easy for the elite black op agents to subdue. But taking in someone like Tsunade... well, that was far, far, far above Yugao's paygrade. She had no illusions that she'd be any match for the legendary medic; ANBU were good, but not that good.

It had been quite a while since Yugao had felt this intimidated, least of all in her own village.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not coming with you," she said flatly. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Yugao wanted to curse aloud at this statement.

"Um, yes... be that as it may..." she murmured. "Well... there was a disturbance reported here at this onsen, and it's my duty to find out the cause of it."

"That's easy," Tsunade said flippantly. "It was a peeping tom. That damn Jiraiya."

Yugao nearly choked on her tongue at this. Not at the revelation of the Toad Sage's voyeuristic habits, which were well known to most Leaf kunoichi over a certain age, but the fact that he was here in the village at all. Tsunade was right there in front of her... and Jiraiya had been here, too?

Sage, Christ, and Buddha! All they needed was Orochimaru, and they'd have the goddamn trifecta of what-the-fuck.

(On a private beach in the Crescent Moon Kingdom, a man in a hawaiian shirt sneezed into his martini)

Taking a deep breath to keep from losing her shit – because, seriously, the presence of two of the Legendary Sannin in the village at the same time was big freaking news – Yugao calmly and collectedly took out her notepad and pencil, and began to write.

"Jiraiya-sama... So he was the one responsible for the explosion?"

"It was his fault it had to happen, yeah," said Tsunade, eyeing the ANBU agent suspiciously. "If he hadn't been such a pervert..."

Yugao resisted the urge to sigh.

"It had to happen? Would you mind elaborating on that?" she requested.

Tsunade glowered, but did as she was asked. "He was peeping on us, so of course I got angry. Like any good citizen, I made to apprehend him and give him a good scolding..." the blonde scowled darkly. "But he got away before I could catch him."

Yugao felt a bead of nervous sweat form on her brow.

"I see. So, in the process of trying to apprehend him, did you... do anything that might have caused damage to the onsen?" she cautiously inquired, wary of invoking the medic's legendary wrath. "Like... oh, for instance... to the divider?"

"Hmph," Tsunade harrumphed. "I might have thrown it at him, but I hardly see how that's relevant. Shouldn't you be tracking him down?"

"I don't think he's the one responsible for all this damage," Yugao said delicately, gesturing at the splintered and barely-standing perimeter fencing, the spiderweb cracks in the stone tiles, and the considerable volume of water which looked to have been splashed everywhere BUT the spring, dousing every surface in sight and leaving the onsen barely two-thirds full.

"Are you really suggesting that I'm the one who will get into trouble for this?" Tsunade growled, her voice low and dangerous. She made to rise from the bath, but a hand on her shoulder from the young pinkette managed to cool her down, or at least somehow restrain her.

"We'll be sure to handle Jiraiya-sama appropriately," Yugao said coolly, "However, the matter of the damages incurred here is rather more serious. You may very well have to pay a rather hefty fine for disturbing the peace, on top of financial reparations to the Kiku-Shidare Inn."

Tsunade stared uncomprehendingly.

"...what."

"I'm sure it was very distressing to be peeped on," Yugao said appeasingly. "But one offense does not justify another. You will have a chance to argue your case before a judge, I am sure, and Lord Hokage himself might want to handle this particular incident, considering the circumstances... but if you cooperate now, we might be able to work out a plea bargain."

Tsunade blinked. Her jaw was agape, and her eyes looked nearly as wide as dinner plates.

The other bathers present seemed variously interested, even Kurenai cocking an eyebrow at the boldness of this ANBU. Not many people would have the balls to try and put the screws on one of the Sannin like this. The young pinkette seemed to lean in and whisper something reassuring to Tsunade, who let out a weary, longsuffering sigh in response.

Yugao, herself, was just praying to god that this would work. She knew that if Tsunade tried to resist arrest there was not a damn thing she'd be able to do about it, but she could hardly just turn and look the other way. This was the Slug Princess, the most famed medic-ninja in the world, and one well known to have been avoiding Konoha like the plague for over a decade.

Honestly, by this point all of her legal talk was just a pretense to get Tsunade before the Sandaime. It was practically her civic duty to ensure that Tsunade stayed in the village for as long as possible. If the woman had to be re-conscripted into the hospital under the guise of community service, then so be it.

"Well?" Yugao asked. "What do you say, Tsunade-sama?"

The blonde slowly shook her head and laughed, appearing grimly amused.

"...You clever bitch," she murmured, eyeing the ANBU operative with the slightest hint of something like respect. A sigh. "Fine, whatever. I should've known something like this was bound to happen sooner or later."

She stood up and got out of the bath, sparing an unreadable glance for the pinkette who'd been beside her. A young girl Yugao recognized as the Hyuuga heiress went to the slender lass's side.

"Well, let's go see what Sarutobi-sensei wants," Tsunade muttered, sighing and shaking her head. "Heh, with my luck this'll have all been orchestrated by Shizune in some wild plot to get me to come back here for that blasted family reunion."

The Sandaime stared blankly, seated in his office atop the Hokage Tower.

Blink. Blink.

Tsunade had her arms crossed over her chest, stubbornly looking at the wall to her left. Refusing to meet her old teacher's gaze.

Yugao had already left the office at Hiruzen's request. He'd thanked the ANBU agent for bringing this matter directly to him, and then dismissed her and told her to take the rest of the week off, maybe spend some quality time with her boyfriend. Hokage's orders.

Master and pupil were in silence. The office was empty save for these two, sunlight streaming in through the window. It was a tense atmosphere, like a spring compressed in someone's hand. Things were still and silent for the moment, but it couldn't last. Sooner or later something would give, and then the shit would hit the fan.

The hokage sighed. He rested his chin on folded hands and closed his eyes, losing himself in rumination for a brief moment.

Tsunade fidgeted, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl sitting before the headmaster. And not in the sense Jiraiya would use in his novels, either! Even now, with his former students over fifty years old, Hiruzen Sarutobi still had knack for making at least some of them feel like foolish children.

Neither one spoke for several seconds.

They just stood there (or sat, in the Sandaime's case) and waited. For what, neither could really say, but they certainly weren't just procrastinating. No, perish the thought!

They were just... waiting for the right moment. Yeah, that's it. Waiting.

After a seeming age of quiet, however, one of them finally broke the silence.

"So..."

"Yeah."

Perhaps not an especially eloquent or shakespearean dialogue, but it was something. It didn't convey any great meaning between them, or even begin to cover all of what they felt needed to be said, but at least it was a start.

"You're back in Konoha," Hiruzen said, eyeing Tsunade curiously. "That's new. I could have sworn you said... what, that you would never come here again even if it was the last civilized place on earth?"

"To be fair, I didn't realize where I was until like half an hour ago," Tsunade responded evasively. "And I'm sure I was drunk when I said that. I was definitely drunk when I came here."

"Yes, you were," Hiruzen agreed solemnly, recalling the night in question when a grieving Tsunade had finally snapped and stormed out of town with her kid niece in tow. Almost he imagined he could still detect lingering, stale traces in his nostrils of the alcoholic reek which had clung to her at that time. "Very drunk."

For a moment, another awkward silence stretched out between them.

Tsunade broke it with a sigh.

"I suppose you plan on charging me with property damage?" she said wearily. "Maybe disturbing the peace, too?"

"I could feel the vibrations from here," Hiruzen remarked. Idly he fingered his pipe, smokeless and unlit. "I have considered it, yes."

Tsunade, for her part, had the decency to at least look the tiniest bit contrite.

"You know I hate that kind of thing, though," she muttered, toeing the floor and scowling. "Jiraiya had it coming."

"Mm, indeed. I will not insult your intelligence with a lecture on shinobi ethics and the illusory nature of privacy in a ninja village," said the Sandaime patiently. "But you did still react in a manner disproportionate to the offense. Again."

"He got better last time," Tsunade replied, sounding a mite defensive. "Eventually. And that was decades ago, anyways. Do you really need to bring up ancient history?"

Her face colored a shade darker as she said this last bit.

Hiruzen silently quirked an eyebrow, almost as if to say "Really?"

"You know what I mean," she added in a huff. "I'm older and wiser now. I wouldn't beat him anywhere near as badly if I caught him."

"Is that so?" her old teacher wondered. "Truly?"

Tsunade shot a black glare at him.

"I'll admit I should have controlled my temper," she said through grit teeth. "I'm a grown woman and should know how to handle such matters civilly and responsibly. There was no call for me to do all the damage I did, or to get other people wrapped up in it. But I'll not be talked down to, Sarutobi-sensei."

He folded his hands and nodded. "Fair enough. You know what you did wrong on that account, and you have acknowledged as much. That's good."

"Uh-huh. But I'm sure there's more you want to talk about," Tsunade sighed. She narrowed her eyes. "Right?"

Her mentor smiled wryly.

"Indeed there is," he said. "A great deal more."

Leaning forward over his desk, the Lord Third looked directly into his old pupil's eyes. His lips twitched at the corners and he threaded his fingers together. An empty pipe dangled from his mouth. He spoke, his voice low and scarcely above a whisper.

"What would you say... to taking on a new apprentice?"

"ACHOO!"

In the women's changing room at Kiku-Shidare Inn-and-Onsen, Sakura abruptly sneezed while pulling up her panties, losing hold of the garment and dropping it around her ankles.

"Gesundheit," said Hinata, absentmindedly fastening her bra.

Sakura sniffed and rubbed her nose with a corner of the damp towel she'd been wearing. She blinked, her eyes watery.

"Thanks," she said, smiling lopsidedly at the Hyuuga. "I hope I'm not coming down with anything."

Hinata nodded her agreement, then bent over to pick up the underwear Sakura had dropped.

"Here," she said. "Do you need any help with that?"

"No, I'm fine," Sakura said. "Thanks for offering, though."

Kurenai watched the two girls interact with a small, nostalgic smile on her face.

Almost reminds me of myself and Anko, when we were that age, she thought.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

Naruto's proclamation rang sharp and clear. He clapped his hand down on the grass.

The toad summoning scroll lay off to the side at Jiraiya's feet, a new signature drying on the ancient paper. Chakra tingled in the atmosphere, thick and rich and laden with vitality.

POP!

Air was displaced with a burst of white smoke, the blood offering from Naruto's thumb opening the doorway for an animal familiar to pass from Mount Myoboku to the Hidden Leaf. Jiraiya watched appraisingly as the smoke cleared, revealing a small toad of ruddy orange coloration.

"Yo, boss!" Gamakichi greeted his summoner with a wave of his webbed forelimb. "What can I do ya for?"

Then he blinked.

He stared at the person before him, perplexed.

Huh. That was odd. Humans looked more-or-less the same to him, but Gamakichi was still pretty sure that Jiraiya didn't have blue eyes. Or blond hair. And the Toad Sage didn't usually go for such bright orange shades in his clothing, either, did he...?

...oh.

Duh.

This wasn't Jiraiya.

"Eh?" said Gamakichi confusedly, cocking his head to one side. "Um, hello. Who're you, bro?"

"Naruto Uzumaki," said Naruto, holding a hand out to the young toad. It was weird to see his old familiar so small. He was used to being able to ride on Gamakichi's head, but at their current sizes it would be easier for Gamakichi to ride on his head. "I'm new, just signed the summoning contract. We'll probably be working together for a long while, you and me."

Gamakichi blinked again, before giving an amphibian grin and clasping the index finger of Naruto's proffered hand. They shook, the motion looking rather odd on the human's part.

"Yo, Naruto! Nice to meetcha!" said the toad cheerfully. "Gotta say, I'm a bit surprised Jiraiya actually let someone else sign the contract. Pops oughta be glad to see some new blood though. How'd you get that old miser to let you sign, anyways?"

"Haha... well, it's kind of a long story," Naruto said, chuckling sheepishly. He coughed into his fist, not-so-subtly changing the subject. "Familial obligations and all that. But putting that aside... well, I'm sure it will be an honor to work alongside the Toad Clan of Mount Myoboku." He bowed, briefly, before looking back up with a toothy grin. "I hear you guys have some pretty incredible ninpo."

Gamakichi laughed.

"What, you mean our toad-style senjutsu?" he wondered, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I s'pose that's something neat by human standards, isn't it? Though it's the norm for us. Reckon I could try teaching ya, but pops might get fussy about that. He doesn't like any old outsiders just learning our techniques, y'see."

He then cocked his head to one side, spying Jiraiya standing off to the side and watching his and Naruto's interactions.

"Oh. Yo, Jiraiya!" he called, waving to the Toad Sage. "How ya doin'?"

Jiraiya returned the greeting with a small grin, waving to the young and irreverent summon.

"Fine," he said. "Could probably be better, but I've just been catching up with my godson."

If this statement surprised Gamakichi, the toad didn't show it. He just laughed and turned back to Naruto.

"Huh, I see. So you're the Yondaime's kid?"

Naruto smiled. "You're the first person to actually come out and say it straight up," the blond commented, silently thinking the words 'this time around'. "But yeah, I am."

"Well, now, ain't THAT something?" Gamakichi crowed, hopping once in place. "Pops has told me stories about your old man. Says the Fourth Hokage was the only human he ever respected enough to consider his superior, haha!"

Jiraiya's left eye twitched, the man looking irked at this implied dismissal of himself as a summoner worthy of respect. He crossed his arms peevishly.

"Yeah, I've heard a lot of good stuff about him. People see him as some kind of hero for saving the village, I guess," Naruto said with a feigned shrug. "I dunno, apparently that's sort of a big deal or something."

He grinned, and Gamakichi laughed.

"Heh. I like you, bro!" the toad decided. "You're a real funny guy, you know that?"

"I've always thought so, yeah, although some people don't appreciate my brand of humor." Naruto waved a hand airily. "They got all pissy when I defaced the hokage faces, and call me a pervert when I use my Sexy Jutsu on people... I mean, sure, I am something of a perv, but so are the people those jutsu work on!"

Gamakichi cocked his head curiously. Jiraiya also looked a bit intrigued by this comment, wondering perhaps what it could be referring to.

"Sexy Jutsu?" he parroted curiously.

"Yeah," Naruto said. "It's my pride and joy, you know? My own original finishing move!" And saying this, he struck a pose. "The ultimate forbidden technique of the Naruto Uzumaki Ninja Handbook! My oiroke ninpo are some of the most fearsome jutsu in all the elemental nations."

He wove a ram seal and focused his chakra.

"See? Like this!" he declared, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

POP!

A slow, seductive, jazzy theme might have been playing in the background as the smoke cleared. Jiraiya couldn't be sure.

All he saw was that vision of erotic perfection.

From her smooth, soft skin free of blemishes and shaded a healthy athletic bronze, to her hair, silky and luscious and sun-kissed gold colored, worn in cute twin-tails, she was absolutely flawless. Her calves and underarms were smooth and shapely, swelling and tapering in just the right places, and with just the right proportions. Her body was soft and curvaceous, with a good and toned physique underneath.

Lean, corded muscle could be made out across her body, if only in the subtle ways that it shaped the softer, more yielding tissues layered atop it. Her thighs, her shoulders, and her lean, flat abdomen were all perfectly enticing, lewdly drawing one's gaze this way or that, perfectly framing and accentuating the most bountiful and sensual parts of her anatomy.

Her posterior was goodly-sized, round and bountiful. The curvature of it, in profile, flowed truly lasciviously from the small of her back down on to her thighs, flowing like a river into perfectly toned and proportioned legs that seemed to go for miles and miles without end.

Her bosom, meanwhile, was even more generous. Her breasts were big, bordering on cup-sizes a quarter of the way through the English alphabet, yet also perky. While definitely looking every bit as soft and heavenly as one might imagine with their size, they did not seem to droop or sag at all.

Jiraiya marveled at those beautiful bunker-busters. The way they jiggled and heaved, bouncing and bobbing to and fro as the blonde smiled and bent over to wink at her captive audience only made the sheer size of those tits seem even more ungodly salacious.

It took the man a moment to realize that this was a henge. A gorgeous, busty, weaponized blonde bombshell of a henge.

Sexy Jutsu.

Blood erupted from his nostrils like a geyser, and Jiraiya flew through the air with two thumbs up and a grin from ear to ear.

Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Chapter Text

The silence was deafening in Iruka's kitchenette, an awkward wordlessness pervading the atmosphere. Whirring and bubbling, a coffee machine dispensed its bitter payload into a waiting pitcher, the only sound audible apart from the refrigerator's dull electric hum.

Iruka foraged anxiously through his pantry, looking uncharacteristically disheveled in just shorts and an undershirt. He was blushing something fierce and doing his damnedest to avoid looking into the adjacent dining room of his modest 1LDK, avoiding the conflicted and uncertain gaze of the lovely young woman he had woken up to this morning.

Or afternoon, to be more accurate.

My, and wasn't that just the most mortifying part? Iruka could not remember the last time he had ever slept so late, being an ordinarily firm believer in the age-old adage of early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. He hadn't done something like this since before he'd become a chuunin instructor, at the very least, and probably not for even longer still.

Of course, Iruka didn't usually go out drinking, either. But the other academy teachers had roped him into it. A celebration of the youngest and most greenhorn Leaf genin squads making it past the second stage of the Chuunin Exams, they had called it, convincing him with some effort to come along and join them. After all, was that not an occasion for merrymaking? They had taught those rookies, and now at least some of those kids were on their way to becoming chuunin before even spending a year as genin! Was that not an extraordinary event worthy of much fanfare and wassailing?

So they had poked and prodded Iruka into coming along and having a few drinks. He could remember bad music and worse karaoke, cheap booze and many toasts. "To health!" they'd raised their glasses several times, "To teachers and students! To the chuunin exams!" So on and so forth, they had gone, coming up with increasingly contrived excuses to clink their cups and down more shots.

"To pretty women in slinky dresses!" one of the older bachelors among their number had cheered, leering companionably at a fairly tipsy Suzume-sensei.

"To cute young men in tight jeans!" she'd cheerily rejoined, winking at her boyish nineteen year old teaching assistant.

"To cheap booze!" one of the drunker teachers interjected, raising their own glass.

"To a strong economy and good exchange rate!" another chortled.

"To surplus harvests and — hic! — cute farmer's daughters!" crowed the first.

So it had gone, on and on, degenerating from there further and further into debauchery, excess, and minimum-wage hedonism. Iruka could hardly remember anything of the night past the two-hour mark. Nothing except a lonely looking face and a rare, bold feeling of confidence welling up in his chest.

Quite frankly, Iruka was just thankful that today wasn't a school day, or he and his colleagues probably would have earned themselves some very serious lectures from the board of supervisors. He especially, considering how late he'd awoken.

Which brought him back to the matter of what – or rather, who – had woken him. Thus his thoughts came full circle, and he was left no recourse but to ignore everything and hope it went away.

With a soft groan, Iruka removed the pitcher from its niche and poured himself a hot cuppa joe.

"Ugh... How drunk was I, last night?" he heard his surprise bedmate mutter. "I don't know how she can stand to do this all the time..."

This piteous moan came from the dining room, reminding Iruka of his lovely and unexpected house guest. His cheeks burned hotly, the young man immediately recalling the very first thing he'd seen upon waking up that afternoon.

It had truly been a wonderful view.

"I wouldn't know," Iruka said, trying to distract himself from thoughts of naked flesh. "I can't really remember what happened... well, at all last night, really. It was a very eventful evening."

Don't think about sex. Don't think about sex. Don't think about sex.

"Yeah, I'll bet it was," the woman said almost absentmindedly. She sounded a tad disappointed. "Hrm. But you don't remember anything, then? Not even... uh, how we got into bed together? Or, uh, what came afterward...?"

...aaannnd I just thought about sex. Dammit.

Iruka blushed a vibrant, rather striking shade of scarlet.

"No. I only wish I did," he blurted out, failing to censor himself in his pre-coffee state – it would still take several minutes for the caffeine to kick in, so there was a moment of awkward silence before he actually registered what he'd just said. "AH! Er, you know! So I could... ah, um..."

He heard a squeak, and a moment later his guest started to stammer.

"W-W-Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could remember..." she nervously babbled. "I can't really recall what happened last night, either!" A pregnant pause passed between them, lasting several seconds. She broke it hesitantly, with a mumbled, "So, er, say... do you suppose... it was any, you know... good?"

Iruka jumped. This question so startled him that he nearly dropped the sweetener into his coffee, packet and all.

"What, the sex?" he asked unthinkingly, replying before he could measure his statement.

He heard a thump and a crash from the dining room, sounding almost like someone had jumped, fallen, and tipped the table.

"Eeeeee, yes," came his guest's voice. "The suh...s-s-s-s-sex!"

"Um, well..." Iruka flushed deeper and scratched the back of his neck. "Ah, do you take milk or cream with your coffee?" he asked, not sure what to say in response to a question like that. Could he really be honest and say he had no idea, because it wasn't like he'd ever actually had sex before?

"Cream," she said, and he heard her grunt, and the sound of something heavy being shifted. "Er, and two sugars."

"Will artificial sweeteners do?" he asked, taking an anxious sip from his own coffee. "My sugar's buried kind of deep in the cupboard."

"Su-Sure," she answered. "That sounds... ah, good."

He felt himself blush at this word, as though it had suddenly taken on a very dirty meaning from the context of their prior discussion. Would he ever be able to say good again without thinking of her question, and the circumstances which prompted it? Or perhaps the phrase would forever become associated in his mind with the flash of her naked body, the reddening of her face, the widening of her eyes as she watched him blink and realized that he was awake and looking right at her.

"Yes," he said, gulping. "Good."

The word even felt dirty coming in his own mouth, and Iruka felt embarrassed to say it. With one simple inquiry it seemed that this woman had forever tainted one of the most common and innocuous of words, making it sound so lewd and indecent to Iruka.

Clumsily, the chuunin shook his head, as though the motion would somehow send all these confusing thoughts tumbling out of his brain, and grabbed another mug (completely plain, eggshell white) and a thing of creamer. Steam rose from the coffee in sinuous tendrils as he poured it, something about the shape of the ascending wisps bringing to mind long and slender legs, smooth and firm with a tempting softness, the contours which climbed all the way from dainty little toes to a lovely pair of...

Iruka slapped himself, preempting his thoughts right as they were about to plunge headlong into the gutter.

"Eh? Are you okay?" that accursedly pretty woman called, a hint of slight worry in her voice.

Of course she could hear him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he called back, grabbing a packet of sweetener next. "It was nothing."

"Really...?" her voice came, sounding unconvinced. "I thought I heard..."

"It was nothing," Iruka insisted. "I just slipped a little bit."

"Oh," she said. "W-Well, be careful, then. Don't hurt yourself on my account..."

Iruka blushed, feeling almost more flustered by this simple show of concern than by any recollection of bare skin and supple curves.

"I will, I will," he mumbled, tearing open the packet and dumping the non-sugar into the coffee. "No need to worry."

He swilled the mug's contents with a stirrer, feeling hesitant to head into the dining room. Idly, he realized that he didn't even know this woman's name... or at least he didn't remember it.

It felt entirely surreal to think this. He had woken up naked next to a woman whose name he didn't even know. Heaven above, that made him feel absolute awful. Just thinking about the mere idea of it left Iruka feeling guilty, as though he had done her an inexcusable disservice.

Feeling painfully aware of the fire in his cheeks, Iruka reluctantly took the mug out to his guest. He noticed that the table was arranged differently than it had been when he went into the kitchen, and its position appeared to have been slightly altered.

"Here you go," he said distractedly, setting the coffee on the table in front of her. "Be careful. It's, um, hot."

Despite the mussy state of her hair, the bags under her eyes, and the fact that her clothes were dirty, disheveled, and smelling strongly booze, something about the woman before him left Iruka feeling butterflies in his stomach. It might have had something to do with the fact that he could still vividly remember the sight of her standing above him, stretching in her birthday suit to reach a pair of panties that were dangling from the ceiling fan.

The woman smiled appreciatively, lopsidedly, and blew once on the mug's contents before taking a sip.

"Thanks," she said. "I... er, appreciate the hospitality."

Iruka blushed and coughed into his fist.

"Y-You're welcome," he told her, scratching his cheek. "It's nice to, ah... have company."

She stared intently down at her coffee, and he saw her face flame up at his words.

"I see," she said awkwardly. "That's nice. You have... a nice place. Uh."

A pause. The flush in her cheeks spread further, painting her entire face a bright scarlet.

"...I don't think I know your name," she said, and the look on her face made it clear that this was very embarrassing for her to confess. "Sorry."

Iruka laughed sheepishly.

"Eheh... no, that's okay," he told her. "You're not the only one..."

Swallow.

"You don't remember your name?" she asked him, blurting it out.

"N-No, I know my name," Iruka said, sweatdropping. "I suppose I worded that poorly... my fault, sorry."

She looked at the wall to her right, the flush crawling swiftly down her neck. Iruka watched her spreading, deepening blush with a hint of fascination.

"Oh," she said lamely. "Oh. Yeah, okay. That makes sense, I... er, guess I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Don't worry about it," Iruka said, fidgeting nervously. "Neither of us is at the top of our game right now..."

He looked down at his shorts and undershirt, feeling extra conscious of his state of dress.

"I'm a mess," she groaned miserably. "I look awful, don't I?"

"Of course not!" Iruka immediately replied, the force of this statement surprising even himself. He flushed. "Ah, I mean, you just... haven't had a chance to wash up, yet..."

He trailed off.

She fidgeted self-consciously.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is so awkward... I've never really been in this kind of situation before. I have no idea what the right thing to do is."

"You and me both," Iruka sighed. "Geez... I'm sorry if I've, ah, been making you feel uncomfortable."

"N-No, I'm fine!" she yelped, nearly jumping out of her seat. "I'm perfectly fine, it's not uncomfortable or anything! I just, er, don't have experience with this sort of thing."

"Me neither. To be honest," Iruka gulped. "I have no idea what this means. Where do we even go from here? Neither one of us remembers a thing about last night..."

She fiddled with a stray lock of hair.

"I don't know," she said. "Where would you want it to go? I mean, I know we were drunk, but this is still the first time I've ever... well, woken up in bed with a man."

"Ah," Iruka said. "So you're also... or, you were also... um."

He fidgeted. She blushed.

"You too?" she asked. "I'm surprised..."

"Y-Yeah," he said. "I'll admit I'm a little surprised that you are, too... a pretty girl like you..."

A silence.

"Oh!" she squeaked. "You mean, you th-think I'm...?"

"You are," he said, his face a deep shade of red. "But I'm sure you hear that all the time, uh..."

Her expression brightened, a small smile gracing her lips.

"It's Shizune," she told him softly. "And I suppose I've been told that before, but..." Fidget, fidget. "...being flattered by drunks and perverts just doesn't feel the same. I suppose it helps that you haven't once tried to, ah, grab me since you woke up."

He scratched his cheek.

"I see. That's a nice name, Shizune. It suits you." He smiled, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on the bridge of his nose. "You can call me Iruka."

"Oh, is that a code name?" she asked, seeming to relax a little bit.

"If it is, then it got assigned to me awfully early," he answered. "But, no, it's just my name. Iruka Umino."

She took another sip of her coffee.

"Do you go by a different name on the job, then?" she asked half-jokingly.

"No, no," he said, waving a hand in the air, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry to say I'm just a run-of-the-mill academy instructor, nothing especially impressive."

Shizune hm'ed at this, looking absentmindedly thoughtful.

"So you're good with kids, then..." she found herself murmuring.

"Maybe, maybe!" Iruka laughed, slowly loosening up. "I suppose so, although I seem to have a knack for attracting the most disruptive troublemakers to my class. Haha, I guess it's probably penance for all the hell I put my own teachers through."

"I'm sure you were a sweet kid," Shizune said.

"I really wasn't," he told her, shaking his head in spite of a grin. "It makes me cringe to think about all the mischief I used to cause... especially now that I know what it's like from the other end!"

"And just what sort of mischief did you cause back in the day?" she asked coyly.

Iruka blushed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, all kinds..." he said. "I was a real nightmare, in those days. But then I suppose we all were, in our own ways..."

He trailed off with a shrug.

"Well, I'm sure you know how it was, after the attack," he said. "I was just a kid when the Kyuubi came, but... well, I'm sure that's not something we need to talk about right now." He waved it off. "I suppose you'll want to use the shower?"

"I really need it," she answered, nodding.

"Any preference about when you want to go?" he asked. "I should probably have a quick shower, myself."

He stomped down the tiny, damnably incorrigible voice that told him to share, not knowing or guessing that Shizune was repressing a similar impulse at the exact same moment.

That was probably for the best.

Sasuke sighed longsufferingly as he approached the dango shop. His eyes were glaring holes into the dirt road, his face a mask of suppressed irritation.

This is irksome, he thought to himself. Naruto and Sakura are both making in-roads with their former mentors, while I...

He scowled.

Most assuredly, Naruto had to have signed the toad summoning contract by now. And even if he hadn't quite yet, he was sure to do so ere the final phase of the Chuunin Exams. Sakura, too, had begun to establish a rapport with Tsunade, and with her luck was bound to be taken under the woman's wing sooner rather than later.

This bugged Sasuke a little more than he was happy to admit. Mostly because he didn't want to have to hold back the better part of his arsenal in the final phase, when it came time to fight Naruto. And they would fight, so help him, even if Sasuke had to personally move heaven and earth just to make sure no one interfered.

While he could always fish a copy of the hawk summoning contract out of his clan's storage, Onsokumaru and his avian kin would not make for an appropriate match up against one of the Gama clan. It wouldn't feel right. If he and Naruto used summoning jutsu in their match – and they probably would, if they had to refrain from using their favored trump cards of perfect susano'o and bijuu sage mode, considering the restrictions of the far-too-small arena they would be duking it out in – Sasuke wanted it to be a reasonably fair fight.

Which meant he would need the snake summoning contract. It just wouldn't feel proper, otherwise.

Unfortunately, the route via which Sasuke had originally obtained the snake contract was presently unavailable to him. Perhaps for good, if Orochimaru vanishing to the furthest edges of Naruto's maximum sensory range was any indication.

So that was kind of a problem.

Fortunately, his wife had pointed out a possible alternate route to getting his signature on the Ryuuchi Cave contract. Unfortunately, however, the way in which Sakura had suggested for him to convince Anko to train him was, well... undignified, to say the least.

"Anko-san is also a snake summoner, isn't she? You could probably get her to teach you, if you put your mind to it. And it seems like she's taken a shine to you in this timeline, too. You could probably appeal to her vanity by pretending to have a crush on her. And she is a very striking woman, isn't she? I'm sure it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to imagine you having a mild infatuation with her, dear~"

And she'd winked while saying this, too.

Sometimes, a part of Sasuke longed for the days of the slavishly obsessed fangirl Sakura who would have never thought to look at another man. Or maybe the later, violently possessive girlfriend Sakura who probably would have brutally murdered him at the slightest hint that he might even jokingly entertain the notion of possibly someday looking at another woman. Then he'd stop, sigh, and admit to himself that, truthfully, he wouldn't trade the playful and openminded wife he had now for the world, even if she did like to tease him more than his pride would have preferred. Turnaround was fair play, he supposed, and it was admittedly fun for him as well, when they were alone.

It was kind of ironic how the girl who used to follow him around like a lost little puppy was now probably the only woman alive with the raw force of will and sheer determination to tame the henceforth untameable Sasuke Uchiha. Or maybe appropriate. Possibly funny.

Sasuke was not an expert on literary terminology. But, either way, Sakura DID have a good point. As usual.

The Uchiha coughed into his fist as he crossed the threshold of the dango shop, spying his target languorously slouched over a plate heaped high with sweet, skewered dumplings. With a mixture of acting skill and the remembered sensations of the woman slyly pecking him on the cheek while certain... other things pressed into his back, he willed his face to color a slight pink.

Every aspect of his behavior from that point onward was carefully calculated, each slight tremor of his voice and shift of his glance carried out with precise deliberation. He made a point to glance at her chest as though unable to quite help himself, darkening his cheeks a shade further before jerking his head up. He fidgeted and mumbled and consciously failed to completely look her in the eye, hesitating just long enough to make it seem natural, stumbling over his words in such a way as to emphasize nerves without too greatly diverging from people's perceptions of himself.

Like a proud but flustered tsundere, Sasuke looked away and cut himself off at points, blushing and continuing shakily, conspicuously editing his tone and words accordingly in line with the mood and context. A good ninja had to be a good actor, and he wasn't considered the best for nothing. He introduced himself awkwardly, making a show of anxiety in how he greeted Anko, clearing his throat and making it look like he was trying to uphold his pride even as he confessed something embarrassing.

Very few people could see through his acts. Naruto was one, and Sakura another. Hinata could also penetrate his less subtle façades, although the better ones tended to trip her up. It took a close and intimate understanding of his personality to know exactly when he was putting on a show and when he was being genuinely sincere.

And that's the way it was with most people, really. Sasuke's talents for the multiplicitous pretensions of everyday civility were simply a little more advanced than most.

"Ah, excuse me... Anko-san, was it?" he inquired, flushing and mumbling a bit. "Hi, er, I'm Sasuke. Do you, um, remember me?"

Anko looked up from her dango and eyed Sasuke curiously. She smirked a tad at the sight of his apparent beflusterment.

"Yes," she said wryly. "I'm Anko, and Anko means me. And I don't know about any Sasuke, but I DO remember a cute little twerp with some decent skills outside the Forest of Death... though he still managed to get all embarrassed over a tiny bit of physical contact. Heh."

She chuckled, eyes dancing with amusement.

Sasuke's hand twitched to his cheek, the side of his face where Anko had planted that playfully chaste and teasing kiss. His blush became a little more genuine, as he noted a hint of the slightest and most general apparent similarities between Anko and Sakura.

A scary thought if there ever was one.

"Ah, um... Y-Yes, well," he stammered, looking away from Anko and making a point to seem like he was resisting the urge to look more southward of her face. "Well, that was... um, a surprise and it sort of, er, caught me off guard..."

"I see," Anko said, grinning from ear to ear. "So you find yourself feeling confused and intrigued, do you? You really are just an innocent little brat. No need to feel ashamed though, kid! It's only natural you'd become infatuated with a babe like myself."

Sasuke sweatdropped at the immodesty of this statement.

You sound awfully sure of yourself, he mentally tsukkomi'ed, biting back the urge to make a sarcastic retort. I'm not an impressionable little boy who gets a crush on any halfway attractive woman he sees, you know! That's more Naruto than me, really.

Out loud, however, where others could see and hear him, Sasuke simply cleared his throat and tugged at his collar.

"Do you really think so...?" he asked, cheeks reddening. "Hmph. Well, I don't know where you got that impression from, but... it's not like I've got a c-crush on you, or anything..." he mumbled, fidgeting.

Anko chortled and clapped a hand down on Sasuke's shoulder, yanking him into a crushing one-armed hug. Sasuke winced, and not just from the rough noogie she proceeded to give him, or the relative proximity of his face to her bosom.

"Now, now!" Anko said, wagging a finger. "Don't lie, kid! I can tell just from the look on your face that you've got it bad. Ahhh, the curse of being beautiful!" She sighed theatrically. "Sorry to break your heart, though, but while you're a cute li'l twerp and all, I'm just not into that kind of thing."

Sasuke squirmed uncomfortably in Anko's arms, making a conscious effort to restrain himself and not accidentally break out of her grip.

"O...oh, I see," he said, feigning disappointment. "That's... well, okay. I guess I understand..."

"Don't feel bad," Anko cheerfully reassured him. "That teammate of yours is pretty cute, herself. You make a nice couple with her, I think. Even if I were interested in you, I wouldn't want to break that up." She chuckled. "Probably."

Sasuke gulped.

"Y-Yeah..." he murmured. "Sakura is really, erm..."

"Say no more!" Anko laughed. "I can tell what it is. You want to impress her, don't you? Now that you know this little crush on me won't be going anywhere."

Sasuke said nothing. He could tell that he didn't need to.

"Well, I usually stay out of matters of the heart, but you're an amusing kid, so I suppose I could make an exception. Just this once, you understand." She clapped him on the back. "How does that sound, eh? Big sis Anko will teach you all about how to make your teammate fall for you!"

Slowly, hesitantly, Sasuke voiced the inquiry.

"In what way?"

Anko made a show of thinking.

"Well... I don't know much about romance, honestly," she confessed. "Never really bothered with all that lovey-dovey stuff. But if there's one thing I do know, it's how to kick ass."

"You're going to train me in that way?" Sasuke asked, guessing that it would be best to voice the question. "Wouldn't that be considered a conflict of interests?"

"Do I look like I care about that boring legal crap?" Anko retorted. "The only reason I even passed out those liability waivers at all was because the other proctors had riding my ass about it."

"Ah," Sasuke murmured, "I see."

A beat.

"So, I hear you can summon snakes," he mentioned casually, reckoning that there was little point to beating around the bush anymore.

"Meh, it's a thing, I guess," Anko replied, shrugging. "I don't really use it for much more than sen'eijashu, though, most of the time. Not like I've got any particular sentimental attachment to it. Not since I was a kid."

Another pause, carefully timed, waiting for just the right moment to strike. Sasuke hesitated deliberately, posing his next and final question in a very specific tone and timber.

"...could you teach me?"

Anko grinned.

"Sure, why the hell not? That oughta put a bee in the old bastard's bonnet." So saying this, she released her hold on Sasuke and let out a borderline maniacal laugh.

And on a certain beach in the Crescent Moon Kingdom, Orochimaru sneezed yet again.

Chapter Text

Tenten huffed irritably, scowling as she walked to the training ground. She was not in the best of moods, and a part of her would have preferred to stay home and take the day off. It was irksome to go down there every day and see Lee and Neji, especially since she wasn't too happy with either of her teammates at present.

...but she couldn't just skip out on her exercises.

Guy-sensei might have primarily been focusing on improving Lee's combat skills for the third test, but that didn't mean Tenten or Neji could (or would) skip out on their own training. Even if Lee was the only member of their team to have made it to the third and final phase of the Chuunin Exams, they still had their own pride as ninja.

And on the bright side, Tenten told herself, at least that four-eyed floozy was too busy with her personal training to come down. Otherwise she probably would have killed someone by now.

"Stupid redhead," the brunette muttered, thinking of the bespectacled Uzumaki. "Who does she think she is, barging in on our team dynamic like that...?"

She spun a kunai between her fingers, flicking it out of its holster and tossing it idly from one hand to the other. Her cheeks were the faintest shade of red beneath a morning sun, and gravel produced a muffled crunching sound under her sandals.

"Hyah! Tsuoh! Hiyah!"

"Derya! Oryaa! Watcha!"

In the near distance, the sounds of grunted kiai and thumping fists could be heard. Lee and Guy's voices carried a good distance in the heat of training, two hotblooded men pushing themselves to their uttermost limits. And their exercise regimen had become more insane than ever before, because apparently Lee was only now at a level where Guy could train him seriously.

Tenten... really wasn't sure what to think about that.

If she hadn't been training alongside them for the past three weeks, she probably wouldn't have thought it possible for those two to train even HARDER, but she had seen the proof with her own two eyes. Even with as harsh as Lee's training had been before the Chuunin Exams, nothing could compare to the grueling hell he now underwent every day.

She was equal parts amazed and disturbed by the sheer intensity of their training – it made all of their past exercises look like mere kiddie stuff.

The clearing where Team Guy practiced came into sight. Lee was sparring with Guy-sensei, going through his taijutsu forms, building his physical power and endurance to even greater heights. It was a little awe-inspiring to watch, and Tenten felt her face burn from something wholly unrelated to the sun's rays as sweat glistened on ruddy flesh and muscles flexed under skintight spandex.

Quietly coughing into her fist, the weapons mistress sheepishly turned her gaze elsewhere.

She observed Neji at another end of the clearing, the prodigy pushing himself to the limit with some rather harsh strength-building exercises of his own. Tenten watched him for a moment, admittedly impressed by his grit. After his frankly humiliating defeat at Lee's hands, Neji had redoubled his training thrice over. For all the genius's fatalism and talk of predestined outcomes, he seemed stubbornly determined not to lose to Lee a second time.

Even if she was still a tad sore over Neji's insensitive behavior during the preliminaries, Tenten could at least respect that kind of resolve. He was working hard to improve his skills and cross the gap that had emerged between himself and Lee, a curious reversal of their former positions.

Tenten smiled a bit in spite of herself.

Absentmindedly, she flicked a kunai thirty meters into the bull's eye of a training target. Perfect accuracy. She may have been very ordinary and unremarkable by most standards of measurement, but there was one thing she did better than anyone else. Nobody threw knives like Tenten.

In another, grittier setting, that marksmanship and proficiency with assorted weapons might have made her a force to be reckoned with, a veritable combine harvester of death-dealing pointy metal – in a world of giant monsters and superhuman freaks like this, however, her talents were very ordinary and pretty much just a novelty.

But weapons handling was her specialty, and she did it better than any other genin. By the time she was finished, the practice targets would be fair riddled with iron.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Kunai impacted dead center on every target. Front, up, left, down, right, back. Over the shoulder, under the elbow, around the waist. She threw darts in every direction, steadily and incrementally honing her ability to aim from peripheral vision and identify targets at first glance. It was a steep learning curve, but Tenten didn't miss a single mark.

This was her element.

"Um, excuse me?"

A voice caught Tenten off guard, distracting her from her target practice. She stumbled, surprised, and spun around to face the speaker.

Recognition was immediate.

"Karin?" Tenten said, seeing the bespectacled Kusa kunoichi. She narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? Hmph. If you need some advice about what to do about your hair..."

Karin scowled and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

She took this greeting with all the grace she could muster, dauntlessly ignoring this attempt of provocation. Dark eyes flicked over to where Lee was sparring with Guy-sensei, and her expression softened. The taijutsu specialist was absorbed in his exercise, and he didn't seem to notice Karin's presence in the training ground yet.

The redhead blushed.

"I'm here for Lee-kun," she mumbled.

"He's pretty busy, as I'm sure you can see," Tenten responded, pursing her lips. "I don't think he'd appreciate being interrupted, even if it's... y'know, you."

Karin fidgeted.

"Ah, are you sure? He usually seems to enjoy my company."

"Maybe he does, usually, but Lee takes his training very seriously."

"So I've seen," Karin mused, smiling. "But I think he'll make an exception for this."

"Mm? For what?" Tenten asked, frowning curiously.

"A family reunion," Karin said. "I asked him about it last week, and he said yes. You know. To going as my date, that is."

A kunai handle bent in Tenten's crushing grip.

"A date?" she said. Her mouth curled into a grimace that might have been a halfhearted go at politely smiling. "I see. You want to take that Lee on a date? Hmph. Good luck with that, girl. I don't think he even OWNS any formal wear."

"I've already rented something in his size," Karin replied, her smile equal parts knowing and smug. "He wanted us to wear matching outfits, see, and suggested t hat I take care of the details. I think he'll clean up very nicely."

Tenten crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips twitched as though they wanted to become a pout or a scowl but were prevented by their owner's pride from following the expression through.

"I see. Well, then! Don't let me get in your way. Go ahead and fetch Lee for your little date."

She said this slowly, her tone carefully neutral. The aggression in her eyes was communicated only passively – a snide remark here disguised as something innocuous, or an understated smirk there after looking for a few seconds at some aspect of the other girl's dress or appearance.

It was a curious aspect of the female social ritual, this feigned politeness covering bared fangs with ersatz smiles: a subtler, more affectless approach than a hot-blooded guy like Lee would understand or appreciate. Tenten wasn't a master of such hollow niceties by any means, but she could still do at least this much.

Karin retaliated in kind.

"I will," the redhead said sweetly, her tone dripping with iced honey like a hornet's venom. And that was a rather weird mixed metaphor that didn't really make much sense when you thought about it, but it sounded kind of cool. "Thank you, Tenten❤"

She once more adjusted her glasses. Lenses flared in the morning light, becoming opaque discs of white, and her lips melted briefly into an unmistakeable smirk. Then the saccharine smile returned, and she flounced gaily, girlishly off towards Lee.

Tenten glared at the back of the other girl's head for a moment. An eye twitched with irritation.

Spinning on her heels, the brunette stomped over to her other teammate.

"NEJI!" she snapped, interrupting the Hyuuga's exercises. She grabbed him roughly by the collar, the expression on her face rather deathly frightening. "Look alive, pal. You're coming with me."

"Eh? Wha?" Neji gulped, caught squarely off balance by this sudden, firm declaration. A dusting of the lightest pink colored his face. "Tenten? Huh, eh? Where are we going?"

From the opposite end of the clearing there came a cry of "KARIN-CHAN!", and from the corner of her eyes Tenten espied their green-clad comrade practically tripping over his own feet to greet the bespectacled lass. The brunette's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, watching as Lee threw his arms over the redhead's shoulder and pulled her into a warm-looking bear hug.

Tenten's grip on Neji's collar tightened.

"To crash a party," she said with all the grim determination of one declaring a full-out war.

Neji blinked.

"Wait, what?"

In a fairly nice part of Konoha, a certain rec center had been booked by a certain group for a very specific pair of events. Two family reunions for two practically extinct shinobi clans. Uzumaki and Uchiha. They were being held in the same location, at the same time – for all intents and purposes, it was a single thing.

And it was something of a minor to-do, as well, garnering a fair bit of gossip from curious citizens. There was much speculating when people first heard of it, and village customs had a hell of a time vetting all the foreign guests. Some folk griped about the timing of this event, and others muttered about Naruto, plus a few stubborn old-timers who grumbled suspiciously about Sasuke and alleged "Clan Elitism".

But regardless, the day of the party came without trouble or incident, the date planned for roughly a week before stage three of the chuunin exams. Three o'clock in the afternoon, the invitations had said it would be starting. Outside, the weather was lightly overcast. Sunlight came down only intermittently through the thin cloud cover.

Pleasantly cool, if a tad bit dreary for some.

Sasuke and Naruto stood inside the door, the hosts of the two functions dressed in formal men's kimono bearing the heraldic brands of their respective clans. Smiling politely (one wider and more cheerful than the other) they greeted their guests with everything from bows to waves to handshakes.

"Yo, Honoka! How's it hanging? I hear you've been working with experimental summoning jutsu..."

"Ah, Kaede-san. I'm glad to see that you were able to make the journey, despite the distance."

"Karin! Haha, so good to see you! And Bushy Brows, too. Man, I would not have expected you two to hook up!"

"Mm, so Danzo won't be coming after all? I wasn't sure, despite the RSVP... well, it's a shame either way, but I do understand that he is a very busy man."

Next to the hosts were their dates, Hinata and Sakura, dressed in yukata. They also helped greet the guests, smiling and making small talk as they led them inside. The two young girls made a very positive impression with their sweet and friendly demeanors.

"Karui, is it? It's a pleasure to meet you, I must say. Ah, and these must be your teammates! I'm honored❤"

"Greetings, Himuro. Heehee, and I bet this is your wife, Setsuna! How's the weather in Konoha treating you two?"

"This is a pleasant surprise, Natsuhi-san. We weren't sure if you'd be able to make it. A shame to hear that your son couldn't come."

"Taro Yamada, huh? I don't recall that being one of the names on the guest list... I do see something of a family resemblance, though. Especially around the cheekbones."

The Uzumaki attendees were numerous, an eclectic mix of people from all over. Several redheads from many lands had gathered once more under the banner of the former Uzushiogakure's most famed shinobi clan, getting together mostly for the free food, and partly out of curiosity about the host.

Rock Lee was there with Karin, he being the sensor's date. A genin squad from Cloud accompanied their redheaded friend Karui, with their sensei escorting them (dubiously) incognito. A freelancer by the name of Honoka chatted amicably with a Star Village kunoichi who was officially dead.

A bouquet of origami flowers lay by the guest registry, an attached letter giving the formal regrets of its senders at being unable to attend, while a dark figure with blue hair skulked about on the edges of the group.

Kakashi Hatake was present on the Uchiha side, invited on the grounds that he possessed the sharingan, and was apparently thus an honorary clan member. Similarly had Danzo Shimura been invited, though the man had bluntly declined and RSVP'd only to say that he was a very important, very busy man with no time for the puerile jests of young boys.

Most of the other Uchiha attendees were civilians, merely very distant relatives whom Sasuke had tracked down over several days of tirelessly perusing birth records and genealogy charts, people mostly descended from lines that had split off from the Uchiha decades ago, possessing neither sharingan nor aptitude for ninjutsu. The majority of them were older citizens of the Land of Fire, and the few younger ones who were present were primarily female. And among these civilians was one individual of otherwise nondescript appearance who happened to bear a passing resemblance to one Itachi Uchiha.

Which, to be fair, was mostly because he had dyed his raven locks brown and popped in blue contacts so as to covertly enter the village as part of a minor noble's protection detail – half on the job for Akatsuki, and half as an excuse to check up on his little brother.

Tsunade cast a critical eye at her surroundings, appraising the various people attending the reunion. It was a real motley assortment on the Uzumaki side, an motley mix of freaks and weirdos gathered together for a single purpose. Compared to that pack of eccentrics, the Uchiha seemed downright normal. Probably because they were really just very distant relatives with almost no actual connection to the old clan.

She took a sip of sadly un-spiked punch and hummed.

"It's a lot less stuffy than I would have expected from an Uchiha clan function," the blonde mused to herself.

Jiraiya sipped from his own cup and grinned at Tsunade. His eyes dipped down to her cleavage a little longer than she liked, rather irking her with his roving gaze.

"Well, it's an Uzumaki soiree too, and we both know how they used to party," the toad summoner roguishly replied.

Tsunade glowered at her old teammate. His presence at this reunion was an unexpected turn of events, annoying on many levels, and dreadfully inconvenient in a few different ways. Especially since he was standing by the punch bowl and hitting on every halfway attractive, possibly single woman to come his way.

Those womanizing old habits of his peeved Tsunade something fierce, and not just because of how big a pervert he was.

"Mm, yes. I still can't believe those kids would have the balls to do something like this, though," she muttered.

"Why?" Jiraiya wondered. "Because most of the Uzumaki had been scattered or in hiding? Or because all the 'Uchiha' here are just distantly-related civilians?"

Tsunade shrugged.

"A little of both, I suppose... but there's also the fact that some people rather high up in the village might have reason to take umbrage at this," she mused. "You know, since they're holding this reunion a week before the Chuunin Exams. Security is probably throwing a fit over so many unauthorized foreigners waltzing into the village right when they're at their busiest with prep work for the final test."

"Haha! Yeah, probably. I reckon it's all in good fun though," Jiraiya said with a laugh. "Those kids don't seem too hung up over what other folk think of them. They're the sorts to just do what they believe is right with no regard for protocol or decorum, I bet."

"They're idiots," Tsunade grumbled. "And that's a pretty big problem in its own way, although it really isn't any of my concern. Sakura's probably the only intelligent one of the lot, and even she seems pretty out there half the time."

"Maybe," Jiraiya shrugged. "But I like 'em. They've got chutzpa. Guts."

His hand moved. Glomp.

Tsunade twitched, her cheeks reddening.

"Jiraiya..." she said lowly. "Take your hand off my ass before I remove it for you. Permanently."

"Er... right. Eheh, of course."

He sheepishly let go.

"So, you work with... summoning jutsu, was it?"

Natsuhi of Hoshigakure, legally dead and living in self-exile from her village, smiled nervously as she attempted to make some small talk with one of her apparent relatives.

"Oh, yes. It's a very interesting field," Honoka Uzumaki replied, smiled cheerfully. "Although I'm mostly just on staff to restrain the more dangerous specimens, I still see all kinds of fantastic things."

Natushi blinked.

"Wait, specimens?" she said.

"Uh-huh, of course." Honoka nodded. "It's kind of top secret, but they've been working on developing new summoned beasts using bioengineering and genetic manipulation. Really, it's the most fascinating work I've seen in years! We've even cloned a number of extinct creatures for use in the experiments. Do you know, they actually devised a sort of medical jutsu to reverse nuclear entropy just so they'd be able to work with dinosaur DNA? It's incredible what you can do with a mix of science and ninjutsu. Almost terrifying."

She beamed.

Natsuhi found herself at a loss for words, unsure what to say in the face of the other woman's excited technical jargon. Weakly, she curled her lips into a half assed smile and nodded, the old reliable standby of anyone trapped in an awkward situation.

"I see," she said. "That sounds... interesting."

That was a lie, of course. In reality she thought it sounded mindnumbingly boring. Natsuhi was a soldier, after all, and not a scientist.

But Honoka seemed to take Natsuhi's perfunctory reply as an invitation to go on further, and she began talking about chemicals and proteins with longer names than most secret jutsu, carrying on with anecdotes about the repetitive minutiae of labratory work, and spouting off useless little factoids on all kinds of things wholly irrelevant to the majority of ninja. She waxed philosophical on amino acid chains, gushed like a giddy schoolgirl about the interruption of cellular mitosis and grafting of foreign tissues into vital systems, chattering and chirruping over the hybridization and chimerization of various disparate life forms.

Natsuhi quickly regretted trying to start a conversation with her.

Someone, please help... she though disconsolately as Honoka yammered on with impenetrably incomprehensible technobabble. Please... someone, anyone... save me from this!

"Ah, Honoka-san? Did you say you work with teratogens? That must be inconvenient... you know, if you felt like starting a family."

Natsuhi blinked, the sound of this new voice seeming like a chorus of angels to her ears. She turned to face her savior, and saw a pink-haired girl who couln't have been more than twelve or thirteen years old.

"Oh, yes!" Honoka said, turning as well to face the newcomer. "It's practically a necessity, considering our field... you know, creating brand new life forms and all that. But I do love the work I'm doing there, even if it's just restraining the more dangerous specimens. The lab where I work probably has one of the most extensive stores of the most virulent poisons in all the world. Helotoxins, colchicinoids, beta-alkaloids... the works."

The pinkette giggled. "Lucky you!" she chirped. "I wish I could have access to half that stuff... the most advanced medical work is as much about harming as healing, you know? But the poisons I get to work with are downright crude compared to that."

Natsuhi sweatdropped. These two were really hitting it off, how about that... but wasn't this girl the Uchiha boy's girlfriend?

Funny how these sorts of things worked out.

Neither of them seemed to be paying her any heed, thankfully. They were completely absorbed in their discussion, comparing their respective fields of expertise and talking about their work experiences. Apparently the girl was already a very accomplished medic-nin, despite her youth.

Sighing in relief, Natsuhi took the opportunity which presented itself and slipped away before she could get dragged back into the conversation.

Karui stared balefully at her alleged date, the chubby and mildmannered lad cheerfully chowing down handfuls of lightly salted potato chips. Her left eye twitched.

How the hell did I get roped into this.

This was merely rhetorical, of course, not even posed as a question. She already knew how it had happened.

Her teammates were assholes, that's how.

That, and Bee-sensei had a twisted sense of humor.

First they'd pestered her into RSVPing to that invitation and saying that of course she would attend this bloody stupid reunion for a family her kinship to which she tried to downplay as much as possible.

On Samui and Omoi's parts, this had probably been done out of the assumption that connecting with her distant relatives might somehow be good for Karui. Or something.

Sensei, on the other hand, had obviously just used this reunion as an excuse to get out of the village for a while. And Karui was still pretty sure that, while she and Samui and Omoi might have SOMEHOW gotten permission to leave for this event, there was no damned way on God's green earth that the Lord Raikage would have ever given his brother leave to come along to Konoha, chuunin exams or no.

So they probably had a lecture from a furious Ay-sama to look forward to when they got home, too.

Fantastic.

But worse still, her teammates had then taken a look at the "plus one" on the invitation and promptly insisted that Karui would need a date. She had fought this for months, from the day she got the letter to the day they arrived in Konoha, but Omoi and Samui had refused to relent. Probably they saw it as a good laugh.

Karui had just found it obnoxious. By the time they arrived for the reunion, she'd grown utterly sick of their casual remarks and "subtle" suggestions, to the point where she felt ready to flip her lid and throttle her teammates. It finally got to the point where she'd just lost all patience, snapped, and decided to simply invite the first guy her age she ran into.

Anything to silence those prats.

So, naturally, she'd crashed into tubby over there (Chouji Akimichi, as he'd introduced himself) approximately three seconds after making that decision known to her teammates.

Just her luck, really.

Samui had smirked at Karui, and Omoi had visibly struggled to stifle his sniggers. Bee-sensei simply gave her a thumbs up. Like he was telling her to go for it, even though Karui very much did NOT WANT to.

If asked, after the fact, why she had followed through on her declaration and asked the boy out, she would insist vehemently that she had done so only under the most extreme of duress.

She would fidget slightly and avert her gaze while saying this, however.

Now, in all fairness the boy did seem nice enough. He'd been pleasantly surprised by her invitation, and had in fact gone to some trouble to make himself presentable... although his lamely slicked hair and stiflingly formal clothes gave off the impression that his mother had played a sizable part in dressing him up.

So that detracted a few points. And Chouji was hardly the suavest fellow Karui could have imagined.

He looked about as awkward in those clothes as she felt on this "date", though, so they could at least bond over their shared discomfort. And on the plus side, he did know all the best local delicacies.

Karui took a bite out of a fresh spring bun, soft and warm with a hint of sweetness that she couldn't quite place.

Yes.

If nothing else, Chouji could identify the best snacks and refreshments on sight. His taste in potato chips left something to be desired (Karui was a consomme girl all the way), but he otherwise seemed to have a good sense for food.

And it's not like he was really painful to look at, either, or a complete bore to talk with. He was a very good listener, but straightforward with his opinions.

Which was something Karui could appreciate.

"These hors d'oeuvres are pretty good, I've gotta say," mused Anko Mitarashi, snatching another tiny sandwich off a waiter's tray. "Fancier than my usual fare, but not too rich. I think I could eat these things all day!"

She popped the finger sandwich into her mouth, pausing only to remove the olive-bearing toothpick. Kakashi watched in morbid fascination as Anko messily devoured the appetizer. She was grinning from ear to ear, seeming unbothered by the conflicted expression on Kakashi's face as the man waffled over whether the sight of crumbs falling into Anko's cleavage ruined his appetite... or aroused him.

It.

His appetite. Whether it aroused his appetite.

Yes, after all it's not like HE got, you know, especially, er, excited from staring at Anko's cleavage. Nor was he, ahem, using the crumbs falling down the front of her dress as an excuse to look at her tits for an extended length of time.

Nay, he may have read porn in public – even around minors – but Kakashi was a gentleman, goddammit. A real classy sumbitch.

He didn't NEED an excuse to stare at a nice pair of melons.

"Yes, they're very good," he agreed with an absentminded nod. "Very sumptuous and perky." A pause. "Er, jerky. They taste like jerky. Yeah. You know, the good stuff. Real juicy and... ahem."

Kakashi coughed.

"Right!" Anko laughed. "There's some real nice meat between these buns. Although the sauce is a bit saltier than I'm used to. Very thick, too."

"I imagine it's an acquired taste," said Kakashi offhandedly. "Iruka and Shizune seem to be enjoying it quite well."

"Geez, you can even see some of it on her cheek, too," Anko observed. "Doesn't that girl have any shame?"

Kakashi side-eyed Anko.

Like you're one to talk, he thought. Out loud, though, he said:

"Love does funny things to people, I guess. And look, Iruka's wiped it off for her."

"Well good for him," Anko snorted. "It's still his fault that stuff got all over her in the first place."

Kakashi shrugged. His eye chanced to peer a bit downward in Anko's direction, and he saw a bit of the sticky white condiment in her cleavage.

"Ah, you've got some sauce on you as well." He pointed to her chest. "Right there, between your..."

Anko smirked.

"Mm? Do I, now?" She looked down. "Well, so I do! Mind being a pal and getting that for me?"

"I don't have a napkin," Kakashi said.

"Lick it up, then," Anko said, shrugging. "I don't mind."

Kakashi sweatdropped.

"...this is just a ploy to see under my mask, isn't it?" he sighed.

"Maybe!" Anko winked. "Or maybe I just want you to—"

Loud music promptly boomed through speakers, drowning her out and making it impossible to tell what she said exactly... although her meaning could still probably be inferred from the context alone.

"TOOKU DE KIKOERU KOE HINTO NI!
HITORI MATA HITORI TACHIAGARU DOUSHI!"

Kakashi winced, and stuffed a finger into one of his ears.

"Sounds like Naruto has found the karaoke machine," he mused, rueful.

"WHAT?" Anko asked. "YOU'D GLADLY DO WHAT TO MY—?"

"KURIKAESU DAKE NO FUDAN DOORI
KUTSUGAESU! JUNBI IIZE ARE YOU READY? "

Naruto belted out the lines as they appeared on the prompter, standing up on stage with Killer Bee, Rock Lee, and an utterly bemused Neji. He pumped a fist into the air and sang enthusiastically into the mike, grinning from ear to ear as he indulged in what was practically Japan's national pastime.

Not that he actually knew what a japan was.

"KARADAJUU FURUWASU SHINDOU NI
HAGESHIKU UCHINARASE YO STOMPING!
TAEZU TSUKI UGOKASU CALL ME
KAWARAZU YURU GA NUTSUKAMU STORY!"

Bee and Lee eagerly joined Naruto for the next bit, and Neji awkwardly stumbled along through the lyrics after them, with no rational cognizance as to why on earth he was doing this.

Maybe Tenten's expectant gaze had something to do with it.

That, or Hinata-sama's chillingly warm smile.

"COME ON!
EVERYBODY STAND UP!
AGERO KYOU ICHIBAN NO JIKAN DA!
ME NI MO TOMARANU SPEED HUNTER!
DAREMO GA MINA TORIKO KANBAN, YEAH!
(come on!)"

Karin was squeeing and gushing at the foot of the makeshift stage, clapping her hands and cheering as fervently for Lee as a fangirl for her rockstar idol. Hinata was more reserved, simply smiling and nodding her head in time with the beat. Tenten was looking a little pink-cheeked as she watched Neji, her lips pursed and arms crossed over her chest.

Samui and Omoi were simply weeping tears of gratitude that this song was not one their sensei had written.

"EVERYBODY HANDS UP!
MATASHITA NA HERO'S COME BACK!
ZUJOU KAZOE YUBI ORU COUNT DOWN!
IKUZE THREE-TWO-ONE, MAKE SOME NOISE!"

Iruka took a sip from his punch and sighed, shaking his head in something somewhere between exasperation and amusement. Shizune stood next to him, smiling and giggling at the spectacle the kids and that one Cloud ninja were making of themselves onstage.

"They look like they're having a lot of fun," she commented.

"Yeah... they do, don't they?" Iruka sighed, clasping his date's hand. "I just wish he wouldn't make such a spectacle of it. That Naruto..."

"I wouldn't call this a spectacle," Shizune replied. "No one is even drunk yet."

"The party isn't being catered with alcohol, you know," he said. "Since the organizers are minors."

"Trust me," Shizune wearily sighed, "Tsunade-sama will find a way."

Iruka looked at his date thoughtfully, the two of them dressed in simple formal clothes.

"You have it rough, don't you?" he mused.

"I really do."

"WHAT YOU GONNA DO? WHAT YOU GONNA DO?
TAEMANAKU NARI HIBIKI KIZAMU!
DEJA VU YORI MO GOTSUI SHOUGEKI GA
ZENSHIN WO HASHIRI HANASAN!
BREAK IT DOWN! "

Killer Bee sang solo, his deep voice rumbling as he moved in time to the beat. His pupils watched, still relieved that Bee was not singing lyrics of his own invention.

"How do you suppose Karui's doing with her date?" Samui mused.

"She's going to kill us when this is over," Omoi muttered. "You know that, right?"

"Oh, cool your jets, Omoi. She won't kill us," Samui said. "I think she'll really enjoy her date."

"Ah, so she'll only cripple and maim us, then?" Omoi replied. "You're delusional."

Samui rolled her eyes. "And you don't know the first thing about a woman's heart," she rejoined.

Omoi shrugged.

"TURN IT UP (turn it up) HEY KIKOEKKA?
SAKENDA KINOU MADE NO KOTO GA!
KAWARU DAROU MADAMINU ASU E!
KOBORETE AFURETA OMOI NO BUN MADE!"

"Wow, this is some shindig," said unimportant, distant 'Uchiha' relative number one.

"I know, right?" said unimportant, distant 'Uchiha' relative number two. "Have you seen that blonde by the punch bowl?"

"I think she's taken. And twenty years younger than you, from the look of it."

"Well, sure, if you want to rain on my parade."

"Yeah, sure. Besides, though, aren't you already married?"

"Yeah, with three kids. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a nice view, y'know?"

"Ugh."

"MACHINIMATTA SHOW TIME SAITECHIRU SHUKUMEI
DOCHIRA NI KATAMUKU SHOUHAI NO YUKUE
AGURA KAITERYA KYOU NIMO TSUBURERU
NAGASHITA CHI TO ASE ONORE DE NUGUE!"

Neji sang, looking flustered and self conscious with the mike in hand. He did quite well of it, showcasing an impressive singing voice despite obvious nerves and uncertainty as to what the hell he was doing onstage in the first place.

Tenten watched and listened, a tiniest guilty smile quirking her lips.

Sakura chuckled, looking up from where she was talking shop with Honoka to survey the singing youths.

"Huh. Did Hinata invite Neji at the last minute? I don't remember seeing him on the guest list."

Honoka cocked her head.

"I have no idea," she said. "I'm only a guest, myself."

"Ah, whatever!" Sakura laughed. "Doesn't really matter, does it? As long as nobody's causing any trouble."

"Yeah," Honoka said obligatorily. "And honestly, I'm not sure I should even be such an expert on the stuff we're talking about, since I was only hired to restrain the more dangerous summons, but I guess you could assume I learned this stuff through osmosis from hanging around the actual scientists. Or something, I dunno."

"Huh. That kinda came out of nowhere."

A shrug.

"It had to be said at some point, though, didn't it?"

"True, fair enough."

"NEGAI MO PRIDE MO FUKUME SUBETE WO SEOTTA TAGAI NO HAIGO!
NASAKE WO KAKETERYA DAME NINARU ZE
TAMOTE POTENTIAL MENTAL MEN!"

Tsunade scanned her eyes over the refreshment table for what had to have been the umpteenth time, a scowl curling her lips and wrinkling her nose. She looked annoyed, and it didn't seem like her irritation was a result of Jiraiya this time.

"Where's the damn sake?" she groused, folding her arms in front of her.

"I don't think there is any," Jiraiya said blandly, taking another sip of his fruit punch. "Since the organizers are minors. There are laws to prevent that sort of thing, in case you'd forgotten."

"Tch. What a load of bull," the blonde muttered. "They can't seriously expect us to suffer through this blasted karaoke sober, can they?"

"They probably do."

"Ugh," Tsunade groaned. "Damn these kids and their damn... music."

Jiraiya shrugged.

"It's not that bad," he replied. "Can be real nice with the right view."

A vein throbbed in Tsunade's forehead. "Dammit, Jiraiya. My eyes are up here."

He gave her devilmaycare sort of grin.

"Yeah, so?"

"NEKO MO SHAKUSHI MO MATTA YOU NA HERO
HITOBAN DAKE NO GORAN, ROMAN HIKOU!
OO II NEE SONNAN JA NEE SA!
KICK ON THE CORNER! MADA TARI NEE KA?"

Next came Lee, jumping in with a rapidfire barrage of lyrics, and it seemed doubly impressive coming from the polite (if hotblooded) youth. Karin pumped her fists into the air and vigorously cheered him on.

Hinata smiled.

"They're very good singers, aren't they, Tenten-san, Karin-neesan?" she said to the redhead and brunette on either side of her.

Karin blushed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She cleared her throat, a nervous tic.

"W-Why ask me? It's not like I've really been paying that much attention," she said, as contrarian as ever. "Hmph! I'm only listening because Lee is giving it his best. Not like I really like this sort of music, or anything..."

Tenten sweatdropped.

"Hey, hey, is that really how you roll?" she muttered. "When the heck did you turn all tsundere on us, huh? Seriously... I can't even keep up with you weirdos."

"I bet Neji-niisan would sing much more boldly if you cheered for him, Tenten-san," Hinata offhandedly remarked, a glint of something innocently conniving in her smile.

The brunette clammed up with a squeak.

"ITSUMO TO CHIGAU HIJOU NA JINKAKU
MAMORU NO SA SUBETE (like a terminator)
YON KAI, GO KAI DE TATSU HIGHLIGHT (fly high yeah)
ISSO KONO BA DE TSUTAETARU ZO!"

Around one quarter of a blue-tressed head watched the party from the shadows, scraps of confetti drifting innocuously through the air. The eye and ear of an origami woman lurked outside the area proper, covertly spying on the participants in the proceedings. In this dark corner the presence of this partial head could be dismissed as a trick of the light, if anyone even bothered to actually look in that direction for more than a second.

Very few had bothered, so far.

A paper butterfly fluttered soundlessly onto the side of the floating partial noggin, resting in soft navy hair. It unfolded itself, then re-folded into an origami flower.

Konan narrowed her eye at a curious spot in the air.

Shadows seemed to twist, the gloom warping as substance emerged from nowhere. Like a drain in reverse, a dark orange mask appeared around a singular void, the rest of a body spiraling in soon after.

Crimson sharingan met a single gold eye, peering out from the only hole in that mask.

"Konan," a deep voice murmured.

"Madara-sama," a whisper that seemingly came from the air itself.

She did not ask why he was here, and he did not ask why she was here. Each could guess well enough at the other's motive.

Fair skin and silken hair peeled away in slips of paper. Konan took her leave.

The masked man did not linger more than a moment longer. He picked out an unmistakeable form among the crowd and nodded imperceptibly to himself. An eye narrowed behind a mask, and Obito 'Madara' Uchiha shook his head once.

Then his form swirled around that single eye, becoming wraithlike and intangible. He vanished shortly, that sharingan eye the last thing of him to disappear.

Naruto cocked his head up on stage, the motion almost imperceptible.

Sasuke saw his cue.

"EVERYBODY STAND UP!
AGERO KYOU ICHIBAN NO JIKAN DA!
ME NI MO TOMARANU SPEED HUNTER!
DAREMO GA MINA TORIKO KANBAN, YEAH!"

A blue-eyed young man with straw brown hair was somewhat surprised to see a pair of six-pointed stars with three black, tapered spokes within them suddenly staring at him from out of nowhere. Mangekyou sharingan.

All at once, his surroundings became morbidly dichromatic. Everything was a shade of red or black, with nothing but occasional splashes of white in between.

Tsukuyomi.

"Hm?" The young man frowned, seeming mildly perturbed. "Wha... what's this? How...?"

"It's a long story," a boy said. "Very, very long. Enough to fill seven hundred chapters of a weekly shounen manga, over four hundred episodes of a half-hour anime, several feature length movies, and a dozen or so OVAs of varying quality."

"(come on!) EVERYBODY HANDS UP!
MATASHITA NA HERO'S COME BACK!
ZUJOU KAZOE YUBI ORU COUNT DOWN!
IKUZE THREE-TWO-ONE, MAKE SOME NOISE!"

Sasuke Uchiha stepped out of the shadows, seeming to manifest from thin air. His eternal mangekyou sharingan gleamed in the darkness of this illusory world.

"...so let's just say these eyes are a memento of my dear, older brother."

He smiled wanly, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"That sound okay to you... Itachi?"

A beat.

"...I knew I should've taken Kisame's advice and crossdressed."

"Yeah, that might have helped make the resemblance seem a little less obvious."

Chapter Text

"So."

"So."

With a naturally unreadable expression, Itachi stared at his little brother. Or, rather, the illusionary representation of his little brother.

To think Sasuke had already managed to trap him in a Tsukuyomi. They grow up so fast, don't they?

"Yeah. Just to put it out there right now, I have no intentions of killing you."

Itachi blinked.

Well. How about that.

This was NOT what he would have expected to hear. Maybe a furious, incoherent shout, yeah. An icy whisper declaring undying hatred, sure. Even questions about why he had done what he'd done, why not? Asking why Itachi had killed off the rest of their clan, you know.

But, this?

This was just... perplexing.

Itachi narrowed his eyes and frowned. He eyed Sasuke disapprovingly.

"Have you already forgotten, little brother, what I did to our clan? Hmph. It would seem you are even more foolish than I had first thought..."

Sasuke waved a hand dismissively. This gesture drew Itachi's attention to the fact that this was the ONLY hand Sasuke had on his person. Mildly troubling, though he had already known of this from certain sources within the village. Supposedly, the lower half of the boy's left arm had been lost in a mysterious training accident around the same time he graduated from the academy.

Considering that Sasuke was also quite clearly in possession of the mangekyou sharingan, a fact which pained Itachi most heavily since he was the one who had told his brother how to acquire those eyes, and basically stated flat out that the mangekyou was the only way Sasuke would ever stand a chance against him. He hadn't ever thought Sasuke would achieve it so soon...

Well, considering this, Itachi figured that the training accident must have been something like an Amaterasu that got out of Sasuke's control. That seemed like the most logical explanation, all things considered.

But then Itachi's thoughts turned, once more, back to Sasuke's earlier statement.

He frowned.

"Hn. Perhaps I should refresh your memory..."

Sasuke could not afford to grow complacent. Not with the likes of Danzo and Madara still out there.

Itachi's eyes flashed crimson, hurricane-spoked mangekyou coming to life. Their surroundings changed all at once, transforming from a community rec center into the Uchiha clan compound, littered with the corpses of their deceased relatives.

Sasuke snorted.

Almost as soon as it came into being, this image wavered. The surroundings Itachi conjured through his own Tsukuyomi vanished, replaced by a more natural setting. They stood on a cliff overlooking Naka River.

Itachi's heart leaped into his throat. He beheld his late kinsman, Shisui, one eye closed and leaking blood from beneath its lids, standing perilously close to the edge and smiling wanly at a younger version of himself. Upon the brink he stood, weary but hopeful.

"There is no way to stop the Uchiha's coup d'état anymore..." These words were ones Itachi remembered all too well. "...civil war will erupt in Konoha, and other nations will seize on the advantage provided by our village's disunity... it will become a world war."

It was morbidly fascinating. The scene was different from how Itachi remembered it, subtly so in a number of small details, mistakes which betrayed that this image did not come from his own mind, or the mind of one who had witnessed the actual event, but the fundamental import, nature, and meaning of what he saw could not be mistaken.

"When I tried to head the coup off with Kotoamatsukami, Danzo stole my right eye. He doesn't trust me... but I've chosen to protect the village in my own way. He'll probably try to take my left eye as well, soon enough... so I'll entrust it to you before that happens..."

Shisui raised a hand to his remaining eye. Itachi was frozen, unable to do anything but watch in disbelief. The slight differences in small details from his own recollection betrayed that this was not a vision plucked from his head by Sasuke's genjutsu... but, then... ... ...

"You're my best friend, and the only one I can count on. Please, Itachi, protect the village... and the Uchiha name."

"How—?!" Itachi choked out, reeling. "Sasuke, what...?"

His whipped his head around to stare at his younger brother, that omnipresent façade of cool and collected composure shattering completely. His mouth was agape, his eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. A hundred different conflicting emotions tore through him, a whirlwind of dismay and confusion.

"I haven't forgotten anything, Itachi..." Sasuke whispered, his voice sounding deeper than normal for a boy his age, even by Uchiha standards. "No, if anything I'd say I remember more than I ever did as a child... I could never forget what you did, not even after thirty years."

Sasuke inclined his head. All at once, the boy changed before Itachi's eyes. He seemed to age by decades in a heartbeat, instantly maturing into the fullness of manhood.

Itachi stared at a face morbidly reminiscent of their accursed ancestor, Madara.

Lips quirked into a bitter smile. The man looked Itachi straight in the eye.

"...the sacrifice you made for the village... for me."

Itachi's blood froze in his veins. "You... who ARE you...?!" he gasped.

A chuckle, mirthless and weary.

"Oh, a great many things," the man mused. "An absentee father, a distant husband... a lousy friend and disrespectful subordinate... the second-strongest ninja alive, shinobi no yami... and a hopelessly foolish little brother who trampled all over his elder sibling's wishes.

The setting changed again, becoming a small sitting room adorned in the traditional style. The man knelt down, seating himself before a low table.

"...I'm Sasuke Uchiha, age thirty-seven, and it's been close to twenty years since I last saw my big brother alive. Since the day I killed him and learned the truth..."

A pause. His expression turned sheepish.

"...and kinda went full on nuke-nin for a while, what with joining Akatsuki, killing Danzo, swearing to destroy the village... culminating in taking the bijuu hostage, declaring my intentions to assassinate the Five Kage, and attempting to launch a continent-wide revolution that would have destroyed the modern hidden village system and placed myself as the immortal, unquestioned ruler of the world who would have reigned over humanity with an iron fist so as to ensure world peace – or a serviceable facsimile thereof – forever and in perpetuity."

Itachi gaped.

Sasuke let out a laugh, a hearty chortle unlike anything his brother would have thought him capable of producing.

"...fortunately," he added, "I had a good friend willing and able to knock some sense into that empty head of mine, even if it meant each of us losing an arm and nearly dying in the process. Not to mention an infinitely patient woman capable of suffering through my angst long enough to actually make me see the beauty in this world..."

His smile grew more wistful, almost dreamlike.

A beat.

Numbly, Itachi picked his jaw up off the table.

"... ... ... this is a joke, right?"

Sasuke once more waved his hand dismissively.

"Do you know of anyone alive, in this time, who could actually control a Tsukuyomi better than you?"

"Well, ahem..." Itachi coughed into a fist. "...there is Madara..."

"Tch." Sasuke rolled his eyes. "That Madao died a decade before the Uchiha masacre. At LEAST. The guy calling himself Madara right now is just his successor, a misguided relative by the name of Obito Uchiha. He has a different kind of sharingan from you, me, or Madara, and only half the pair he was born with, besides. I'm not even sure he CAN use an ordinary Tsukuyomi."

Itachi blinked. Calling one of the most famed and sacred of Uchiha genjutsu "ordinary" in any context seemed unutterably bizarre to him.

Only Izanami and Kotoamatsukami, to his knowledge, could be considered more extraordinary illusions, and one cost its user the sight in one eye, while the other could only be used once a decade unless supercharged with the Lord First's cells, and even then it would still be limited to only once a day.

He frowned.

"I don't know..." the acclaimed prodigy murmured, clearly skeptical.

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

The wall to Itachi's left promptly transformed into an animated, 3D pinup. A slim, fairly attractive woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties (judging by a lightest smattering of wrinkles – frown lines and crow's feet – as well as a few stretch marks, here and there, which seemed to intimate a possible past pregnancy) smiled and posed suggestively, winking at Sasuke and silently giggling.

Her hair was short and pink, distinctive, with a distantly familiar turquoise diamond mark on her forehead. Like Tsunade, in a way, although this woman's bust was a good few sizes smaller. Also, she was dressed in aught but a cheek-scorchingly skimpy suspender bikini that left far less to the imagination than poor Itachi was anywhere near comfortable with.

It didn't help, either, that she appeared to be maybe twice Itachi's age, even aside from the fact that she bore an undeniably powerful resemblance to the lass who had introduced herself to "Taro Yamada" as Sasuke's girlfriend. So, seeing this woman in such scant array and suggestive posture felt awkward for Itachi on many levels, a multifaceted world of ohgodwhatevendo and dontlookathertits.

Itachi nervously cleared his throat. Peering askance at Sasuke, he saw a look on the man's face reminiscent of an expression he'd seen on their father, once, in happier days when the man had come home a little tipsy and in a very good mood after finally wrapping up a particularly troublesome case.

Half-repressed memories of their Fugaku Uchiha leaning in close over his wife Mikoto's shoulder and whispering things into her ear that made their eldest son wish he'd never learned how to read lips, fingers pinching places their boys had been taught to never touch on a girl, making the woman smile and arch her back with a not-at-all-displeased look on her face, burst into Itachi's mind.

He shuddered, feeling both disturbed and uncomfortable. Like he was a stranger intruding on something private.

It also didn't help that Sasuke and this woman depicted in the image seemed to be only negligibly younger than Fugaku and Mikoto had been when Itachi killed them.

This WAS supposed to be his baby brother, right?

Itachi coughed.

"O... Okay," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn something fierce. "Suppose I believe what you are saying, Sasuke, and suppose I believe you really are a grown man in a child's body... my foolish otouto twenty-five years older, mentally, than he ought to be. Suppose I trust that what you're saying is even possible. Assuming ALL of this, I just want to know... how?"

Sasuke shrugged.

"Time travel."

"T-Time travel?" Itachi parroted.

"Time travel," Sasuke repeated. "Presumably."

"Presumably?" said Itachi.

Again, Sasuke shrugged.

"Presumably, yes, although I cannot personally say for sure. All I know is that one night I went to sleep an adult, and the next morning I woke up a child."

"Well..." Itachi said. "I don't see what else it could be, when you put it like that."

"You'd be surprised," Sasuke told him. "With all the things I've seen over the years, I've learned to keep my mind open to all the possibilities.

"I see," Itachi lied.

"I'm sure you don't," Sasuke blithely contested. "But that's okay – it really isn't something you can understand unless you've seen this shit for yourself."

"...er, okay," Itachi said. He changed the subject. "So, you say I made a sacrifice for the village? For you? How so?"

Sasuke leveled a flat look at his kinda-sorta-technically-older brother. The guy was born first, at least.

"Our clan was planning a coup," he said bluntly. "I'm not entirely clear on the specifics, but essentially it was something like dissatisfaction over a perceived seclusion and marginalization within the village. Long story short, some very influential people in the family decided to try and take over Konoha, and Danzo, that troublesome old goat, believed that wiping out the whole clan was the only answer.

"Which SERIOUSLY bit everyone so hard in the ass, come the Fourth Great Ninja War."

Itachi blinked.

"Wait, excuse me? The Fourth what?"

"It's a long story," Sasuke said, gesturing vaguely. "And not the most cheerful one, either, even if the Shinobi Alliance did win out in the end... and even if I did get to fight alongside you one last time, thanks to the Edo Tensei."

Itachi blanched.

"You mean you used thatloathsome—?!"

"No, the enemy did," Sasuke interjected. "But you got hit by a Kotoamatsukami you'd crammed down Naruto's throat at an earlier time – intended for me, if I remember correctly – and it broke you out of their control. We actually fought together to stop the guy using Edo Tensei and make him release the jutsu..."

A pause, thoughtful silence on Sasuke's part.

"...Not that it was all that useful, in hindsight. Most of the reanimations had already been beaten and sealed, and the worst of the lot actually knew Edo Tensei himself... so the reanimated Madara just used the jutsu on himself before he could actually be dispelled, and things kind of went to hell from there."

Itachi stared at his little brother.

His expression was blank, uncomprehending.

Blink.

"Er..."

"That's not even close to the craziest shit that went down, either."

"...maybe we should start over from the top," Itachi said faintly.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Sasuke agreed.

"Yo, gramps."

The Lord Third Hokage looked up from his book. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Naruto sitting on the windowsill behind him.

He smiled bemusedly.

"Hello, Naruto. What brings you here?"

The blond shrugged. "Something I should've gotten out of the way months ago, honestly. I'd intended to tell you as soon as we'd managed to regain our bearings, but Sasuke had a fit and insisted that it wait until he had a chance to talk with his brother."

Hiruzen quirked an eyebrow.

"His brother?" he said dryly.

"Yeah, Itachi," Naruto said. "It's kind of a long story... although I suppose you already know part of it, being hokage and all."

Hiruzen hummed. Eyeing the boy thoughtfully, shrewdly, he lit his pipe and gestured for him to make himself comfortable.

"I hope you don't mind my ANBU listening in," he said. "Whatever it is you have to say."

Naruto dismissed this with an airy wave. "Not at all, I understand. Security first and all that. I don't mind, either way – nobody keeps secrets better than ANBU."

Saying this, the blond took a seat opposite the Sandaime.

"I see," said the elderly shinobi. "That's good."

He exhaled a lungful of smoke, burning tobacco fumes meandering from his mouth in thin, white curls and wisps.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Sarutobi smiled and took another drag of his pipe.

"So... what can I do for you, Godaime-dono?"

Naruto blinked.

"You're two off," he said automatically.

A beat.

"...But I'm surprised, old man, I have to admit," the blond remarked, chuckling and shaking his head. "Springing that on me so suddenly... haha! I did not expect you to have reached that conclusion, already. How'd you figure it out?"

Sarutobi smiled a little wider.

"It was an educated guess," he said humbly. "I'd already ruled out the possibility of you and your friends being infiltrators, for a handful of compelling reasons. Between the apparently drastic changes in personality and sudden leaps in skill, plus a number of subtler cues, I could deduce that:

"Firstly, you, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Hinata Hyuuga all suddenly began to exhibit vastly improved abilities surpassing even many seasoned jounin within a few days of each other, very shortly after passing the academy exam.

"Secondly, your personalities had in many ways become wildly different, but also seemed to retain certain core aspects reflecting a similar fundamental psychology – Hinata Hyuuga, for instance, while becoming demonstrably more confident and outspoken, still had many of the same ingrained mannerisms, showed a very similar world view and perspective to what her academy reports suggested. Sasuke Uchiha, although seeming to open up and grow vastly more sociable within a small circle of close friends, still maintained a certain trace of darkness, one might say, showing signs of the same underlying childhood trauma, although more healthily coped with and managed. Similarly for Sakura Haruno and yourself – you were very different, and yet... there was a certain sameness at the heart of your personas, inherent qualities of 'Naruto' and 'Sakura', despite seeming greatly changed on the surface.

"Thirdly, despite the sudden leaps in ability and changes of personality, there were at no times any indication of noticeably untoward activity. You carried out your roles as new Leaf ninja admirably, working together with your fellow shinobi while not seeming to go out of your way to try and fit in, or blend into the background, as a spy or infiltrator might. And even if some of you clearly took umbrage at being forced to carry out menial, low rank missions... it was not in the same spirit as a squad of restless genin eager for action. No, it was more like... a chuunin or jounin who has been demoted, made to perform missions for which they are vastly overqualified."

Sarutobi chuckled to himself, as though recalling a mildly amusing joke.

"And fourthly, Sasuke, Hinata, and yourself all retained certain traits effectively unique to yourselves, things no spy would have the skill to recreate. Byakugan, sharingan... kyuubi. Two rare doujutsu never found outside the families of Hyuuga and Uchiha... and a chakra that only one person can carry at a time."

Naruto sweatdropped at this, thinking of his dad, Sora, and the Gold and Silver Brothers.

Not quite... he thought.

"...But close enough, right?" Hiruzen said.

Naruto nearly jumped out of his seat. The Third laughed.

"Ah, you are as much an open book as ever, Naruto... even if regrettably few people yet care to read it," he said, shaking his head and smiling. "Those who are unfamiliar with you, or who are naturally poor at reading people, might not notice it... but I could see it all on your face, as plain as day. When was the last time you mouthed off to someone and shouted, 'I'll become hokage! Believe it!'?"

Blink.

Naruto's expression slacked, going a touch pensive.

"Oh, hell," he mumbled, letting out a bemused laugh. "I hadn't thought about that. It hasn't been something I've needed to prove, or promise, or swear on for years."

Again, Hiruzen chuckled.

"Yes... If someone tried to impersonate you, Naruto Uzumaki, even having done only the barest and most cursory of research on your personality, your past... is that not something they would have immediately picked up on? To most people, more than your poor grades in the academy, your reputation for pranks and troublemaking... or even your status as the vessel of the Nine-Tails... that aspiration to become hokage is the singular defining trait of who you are as a person.

"And yet... not since graduating the academy have you even once made more than a passing reference to this dream. And I know that the son of your parents would not easily be dissuaded or disillusioned. You take too much after both of them to ever give up on that dream. Not without a fight, and I am sure you would go kicking and screaming the entire way, loudly enough that the entire village would have heard it."

Nostrils flared, and another exhalation of smoke wreathed the Sandaime's face.

"Indeed, there seemed to me only one reason that you might so suddenly stop speaking of that dream without my immediately knowing the cause. And that would be, if you already were hokage.

"Presumably you and the other three have come from the future – I am not ignorant to the existence of purported time travel jutsu, after all. Though I am a little surprised to learn you were not the Fifth. Two off, did you say?" A wry grin. "Well, unless your grasp of mathematics in the future is even poorer than it was in the past... that leaves two possibilities. And I am fairly certain you are not the Lord Third."

A smile.

"So... Seventh Hokage, then?"

Naruto scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

"Well, last time around you died during the Chuunin Exams," he mumbled. "I remember that pretty clearly, because I'd been riding high on beating Gaara when I learned what had happened... and, well it felt twice as depressing because of that, I think. Due to just how far and how fast my spirits plummeted when I heard the news."

"During the Chuunin Exams, you say?" Hiruzen said, looking mildly perturbed. "My, I know I'm getting on in years... but I'd thought I was in reasonably good health for a man my age, especially considering my profession. Tell me, Naruto, was it a stroke? Or perhaps a heart attack?"

Naruto coughed into his fist.

"Er... um, actually... you kinda used the Shiki Fuuin on Orochimaru when he invaded Konoha with the Sound and Sand villages. Although, that probably won't be problem, this time around!" he added, seeing the Third's jaw go slack. "Since I can still feel the Kazekage alive and kicking over in Suna, and that old snake hasn't set foot on the continent in practically a month. I think that beating he got from Hinata convinced him it was time to retire. Though I suppose it's lucky for him that he at least didn't target Sasuke, this time.

"Sakura wouldn't have left enough of him behind to fill a matchbox, if he had."

Hiruzen stared at Naruto for a long moment. He leaned back in his seat, expression slack, and numbly extinguished his pipe. After a minute spent absorbing this information, he took a slow, deep breath.

"...so it wasn't a very peaceful era you children inherited, was it?" he quietly mused. "If I died killing my own student, and there were two other hokage betwen myself and you."

Naruto looked away from the Sandaime.

"Er... well, you didn't actually finish Orochimaru," he said sheepishly. "Enma-jiichan's the only one alive who really knows the details, and he won't even tell Konohamaru the specifics, but I figure you couldn't go through with it... either because he had been your student, once, and you just didn't have the heart... or else because old age had caught up with you and you just didn't have the strength to rip his soul all the way out of his body. You did get his arms, at least."

Hiruzen hummed thoughtfully, a rueful expression on his face.

"A pity..." he sighed. "I should have dealt with him back then, before he could do something like what you said. Invading the Leaf with two villages at his back... and one of our allies, at that! Ah, what a crooked set of affairs this all is..."

"Ehhh, in fairness, Suna was sorta tricked," Naruto said. "Orochimaru impersonated the Kazekage, after killing him, and he's the one who gave the actual order to invade. And after the Sand ninja learned what had happened, they went right back to being our closest allies. It probably didn't hurt that I wound up saving the Fifth Kazekage from Akatsuki a few years later, either, along with Sakura-chan and Kakashi-sensei. And I suppose even before that, actually, Gaara kinda felt indebted to me for helping him get over himself..."

"Wait, are you saying Gaara became the Fifth Kazekage?" the Third Hokage said. "The same Gaara who's taking part in these exams, you mean?"

"Well, he is the Fourth's son," Naruto replied. "And Shukaku's jinchuuriki... or at least, he was until Shukaku got extracted from him by Akatsuki."

"He's the Shukaku's...?" said Hiruzen. Then he shook his head. "No, or rather... I thought you said you saved him from Akatsuki? Having a bijuu extracted from you... I'd always understood that to be a fatal process."

"Oh, it is," Naruto said. "But Granny Chiyo was able to bring him back to life in exchange for her own. Sorta like the Rinne Tensei, actually, although it seems a lot more limited."

Hiruzen took another deep breath.

"So a child became the Fifth Kazekage, then had a bijuu torn from him by an organization of S-class criminals, only for you to somehow save him from said group comprised solely of individuals strong enough to stand a realistic chance at taking down bijuu, and then the bitter, reclusive, and disillusioned old puppet mistress of Suna gave her life to resuscitate him?"

"Well, she wound up needing some chakra from me to actually pull the jutsu off..." Naruto shrugged. "...and we were only up against two of the weaker members, and even then Deidara basically just led me and Kakashi-sensei on a wild goose chase while Sakura-chan and Chiyo fought Sasori. Although Kakashi-sensei DID wind up at least ripping off one of Deidara's arms with his mangekyou sharingan."

Hiruzen blinked.

"Kakashi has mangekyou?" he said.

"Yeah," Naruto said. "I don't think he actually knows what that is yet, though. Or, at least, that he has it. But him and Obito got it on the same day, as I understand it..."

"You don't mean Obito Uchiha?" Hiruzen stared at Naruto, baffled. "That boy died in the Battle of Kannabi Bridge... he activated it before giving that eye to Kakashi, then?"

Naruto cleared his throat sheepishly.

"Oh, jeez. I'd forgotten he was supposed to have died back then..." the blond muttered. "Uh, yeah. Pro-tip: Obito's still alive. Relatedly, Madara Uchiha also survived his last battle with the First Hokage, and clung to life long enough to save Obito from dying back then and take him under his wing. And the two of them basically wound up fucking over the whole rest of the world for several years, since Obito sorta went off the deep end when he saw Kakashi-sensei kill Rin.

"Yeah, you know Akatsuki? That gang of S-class psychos we were just talking about? He's kind of the one pulling the strings behind that whole organization. Madara's dead now, thankfully, but Obito's bad enough on his own... and he's got a lot of very strong and dangerous people convinced that he's Madara. Left to his own devices, he'll gather up the bijuu, mash them together to reform the Juubi, transform that into the Shinjuu, and then cast Infinite Tsukuyomi on the whole world.

"So, yeah. It's kind of a crucial detail, that Obito survived."

Hiruzen's mouth worked open and shut soundlessly for several seconds. His face was ashen gray, and his eyes were as wide and round as dinner plates.

"You are joking, right?"

"Trust me, gramps, I only wish I was," Naruto sighed. Then he shrugged. "Well, the Akatsuki problem ought to be nipping itself in the bud fairly shortly, either way, so we won't have to worry too much about them this time around."

He inclined his head.

"Ah, hot damn. Konan doesn't fuck around, does she...? That might be more explosive tags than I have felt in my entire adult life, and Tenten used to throw that shit around like confetti. No wonder she was so convinced she could take him out, with an ace like that up her sleeve..."

Hiruzen blinked.

"Konan?" he said. "What? Who?"

"One of the Rain orphans Jiraiya taught," Naruto supplied. "She, Nagato, and Yahiko were actually the founding members of Akatsuki when it was just an organization dedicated to protecting the Land of Rain from outside threats, back before Obito came along, sicced Hanzo on 'em, got Yahiko killed, then told Nagato and Konan that he was Madara and they should totally follow him."

The Sandaime took a moment to process all of this, his lips twitching in a thoughtful frown. He eyed Naruto shrewdly.

"You can sense them?" he asked. "You mentioned being able to sense Orochimaru and the Kazekage, too... and you say Akatsuki is..."

"Being taken care of, yeah," Naruto nodded. He paused, and tilted his head. "Ah, good on you, Sasuke. Thinking to include instructions for Izanami in the letter... I guess Obito must've had a spare sharingan in reserve to burn on an Izanagi after all."

"Izanami?" said Hiruzen. "Izanagi? You don't mean... the Uchiha clan's most strictly forbidden kinjutsu, do you?"

"Yeah, Sasuke figured Obito might be desperate enough to Izanagi himself, if Konan and Nagato went at him at the same time. But, dayum, I did not expect Konan to have that kind of firepower in reserve. I guess she wasn't just kept around for that pretty face, huh?"

"...I can't actually sense whatever it is you're sensing, Naruto," Hiruzen said. He noticed a strange orange pigmentation forming around the Nanadaime's eyes.

The blond gave a start at this, then scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Yeah, so apparently she had like a hundred billion paper bombs or something like that just chilling around in case 'Madara-sama' ever became a liability." An appreciative hum. "Definitely not just for cheesecake, sheesh. I mean, ten straight minutes of explosions that massive? Deidara'd probably cream his pants if he saw this... she REALLY did not trust Obito."

"I though he was their leader, though. You didn't make it sound like they ever learned of his treachery last time around..."

Naruto shrugged. "Konan might've," he said. "She sorta vanished off the face of the earth sometime before the Fourth Shinobi World War, not long before Obito came onto the scene with a brand new rinnegan. He probably killed her to get at Nagato's."

"Mm, I see..." Hiruzen said. "Well, that certainly sounds..."

He then paused. His jaw fell open.

He did the mother of all double takes.

"Wait. What? You... you just said... rinnegan, right? As in... the mythical eyes of the Sage of Six Paths? That rinnegan?"

"The one and only," Naruto replied. "Though it's not really that special. I mean, Madara had a pair, Nagato had Madara's, Obito used one of Nagato's, and – hell! Even Sasuke got one, after Rikudo-jiichan gave him his Yin Chakra."

Hiruzen stared.

"Sa...Sasuke? Sasuke Uchiha?" he gaped. "He has the rinnegan? He... met... the Sage of Six Paths?"

"So did I," Naruto said. "And Sakura-chan, Kakashi-sensei... plus you, the First and Second Hokage, and my dad, when the four of us were fighting Old Lady Kaguya in another dimension. Hell, even all the other past kage kinda met him, when he summoned their souls from the afterlife to perform a joint summoning jutsu along with you three to get us back out of that dimension after me and Sasuke used the Yin and Yang Chakras we got from Rikudo-jiichan to seal Kaguya and Black Zetsu away for good, where nobody could break them out."

"... ... ... okay," Hiruzen said slowly. "Either Homura and Koharu conspired to replace my tobacco with something else, or you just said a lot of things that shouldn't make sense in any sort of sane or rational world."

Naruto shrugged.

"Well, you four were kinda brought back to life by Orochimaru using Edo Tensei to answer some questions for Sasuke about the Uchiha massacre and what the hell a village is, and Kaguya was Rikudo-jiichan and his brother's mom, who apparently got real pissed that they were born with chakra when she'd had to break the ultimate taboo and eat the Shinjuu's fruit to gain it, and merged with the Shinjuu to become the Juubi, then got beaten by her sons.

"Then her body got sealed in the moon when Rikudo-jiichan was dying, and her chakra was split into the nine biju. And she gave birth to a third son while this was happening, somehow, and he skulked around for a few thousand years basically pulling strings and vandalizing sacred texts to manipulate people into eventually trying to reunite the bijuu and perform Infinite Tsukuyomi on the world, which would free his mom and send everything straight to shit."

Hiruzen gawped at Naruto, looking more like a buffoon than a ninja so brilliant and masterful as to have been called shinobi no kami.

Then Naruto blinked.

"Oh, ow. That is not a pleasant way to go."

Weakly, Hiruzen shook his head.

"What...?"

"You don't wanna know," Naruto said, shuddering. "I guess seeing Obito trapped and defenseless in Izanami was just too much of an opportunity for Konan to pass up. That woman is as terrifying as she is gorgeous... and let me tell you, if I weren't happily married, and also physically only thirteen? I would tap that so hard."

Hiruzen nodded weakly.

"I see..." he murmured. "So, that takes care of Akatsuki, does it?"

"Almost," Naruto said. "Sasuke's talking to Itachi, and it feels like Kisame's about to get a visit from an old friend, on the Mizukage's behalf methinks... and as for the rest, well..."

"What about the rest of them, Sasuke?" Itachi asked within the confines of Tsukuyomi, frowning at the one-armed man who it seemed truly was his baby brother. "Even if you think Pain and Konan can handle Mada...Obito, and won't just go right back to their prior activities once he's dead... that still leaves several S-class rogue ninja running around with no one to keep them in check."

Sasuke laughed.

"Eh, that Hokage of mine may not be the sharpest crayon in the box... and Shikamaru may not have come back with us... but he's still got a pretty terrifying mind in his own right. That Naruto... while it's not like we didn't help him iron out the details... he's still probably the only one with the audacity to actually go ahead use a gambit this outrageous."

"Pardon?" Itachi murmured.

Dear Tsuchikage,

Yo, I hear you've been working with these jerks called Akatsuki. Not cool, man! I hear they're serious bad news.

Like, wanting to gather all the bijuu kind of bad news. Believe me, you don't wanna get mixed up with that sort! What would people think if they found out you were providing employment to wanted criminals and S-class missing ninja?

Nothing good, that's for sure. Personally, I'd advise cutting ties with them now and erasing any proof of your cooperation with those guys, before they go and piss off the wrong people.

Think about it, man.

Sincerely,

The Son of the Yellow Flash

Fence-Sitter Ohnoki gripped the letter in his hands until it was thoroughly creased and crumpled, flying through an abandoned ghost town. He glared at the attached photo of a grinning, spiky-haired blond boy with blue eyes, holding a rasengan in one hand and a hiraishin kunai in the other.

"Gr... dammit," he muttered to himself. "When I find out who's responsible for this... tch! To think that bastard could have reproduced..."

When he first got the letter, naturally he'd had the photo checked for any signs of forgery or editing. The finest experts in Iwa had taken one look at the picture, declared it a hundred percent genuine, then taken a second look at the picture, and shit their pants in horror.

It was mortifying, but if someone with access to the Fourth Hokage's son knew of his past business with Akatsuki...

Well, Iwa had very good spies. Ohnoki was well aware that the boy in the picture was the kyuubi jinchuuriki. So here he was, hunting down his most frequent contact in the organization with plans to kill them and erase any evidence of his ever employing them.

Ohnoki wasn't about to risk the Yellow Flash finding a way to murder him from beyond the grave for working with people who were targeting his son.

"Akatsuki, is it?" a voice rumbled, a fierce growl coming from the brush.

Deidara scowled, and turned to face the speaker. He and Sasori came to a stop in a forest clearing.

"Hah... and what if it is, hm?" he asked.

A tall, muscular, swarthy figure dressed in open white robes with an ogre-headed belt stomped into the open, bursting heedlessly from the underbrush. A blonde woman followed him, as well as a white-haired swordsman.

Arms like tree trunks flexed, and dark eyes flashed. Rippling pecs sparked with a visible electric current.

"Criminals and defectors... is it true? That you scum of the earth have designs on the bijuu... and their jinchuuriki?"

Deidara sneered, slipping his hand into a pouch of clay.

"Again, so what if we are?"

Ay snarled.

"Then you have made a serious error, if you think for even an instant that I will abide such treachery..."

Darui and Yugito winced as their boss's body erupted in a shower of sparks.

"...or if you think that filthy turncoats and traitors like yourselves stand any chance against the Fourth Raikage!"

Sasori blinked.

"Wait, what?"

A wave of golden sand crashed through the trees from behind the pair of Akatsuki ninja, nearly burying Sasori and Deidara alive.

"Not so fast, Lord Raikage..." growled a livid, auburn haired shinobi with tanuki-like rings around his eyes. A diminutive, elderly woman stood beside him. "The scorpion is mine. As the Sandaime Kazekage's disciple and successor... I'd never forgive myself if I let someone else kill his assassin."

Deidara paled slightly.

"Eh...? Oy, oy... what the hell is this?" he said. "Sasori, my man... isn't that the Kazekage? And the Raikage? Yeah?"

Sasori, or rather the puppet Hiruko in which he hid, was motionless for a moment.

Then it nodded.

Deidara paled further.

"Uh... you wanna take 'em, or should I?"

"Oh, just blow them up already, you pandering philistine."

Deidara relaxed.

"Hmm... Well, alright then..."

Then he blinked.

"Eh?"

Sasori, or rather Hiruko, was completely motionless. Bushes rustled behind Deidara.

Hiruko collapsed to the ground, bereft of any will to control it.

Deidara swore.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Rasa snarled. He jumped onto a floating platform of gold dust. "SASORI...!"

He and Chiyo took off in hot pursuit after the fleeing puppet master.

And Deidara got a faceful of the Raikage's fist before he could even react.

"...like that," said Sasuke.

Itachi gaped.

"Are you saying a thirteen year old boy somehow convinced three of the Five Kage to personally take out the remainder of Akatsuki in a coordinated assault? Is that really what you're suggesting?"

"Well, they're all doing it for their own reasons, I'm sure," Sasuke said. "But yeah, basically. I'll remind you that he is actually the same age as me, though. And the Seventh Hokage."

"Sure, yes, but... still, something like that?"

Sasuke shrugged.

"He is scarily persuasive."

Chapter Text

For a moment, Obito Uchiha was convinced he had died. It was a very long and very painful moment in which the entirety of his existence seemed to be on fire, a blinding agony which consumed him down to the very slightest fibers of his being. It seemed sure to him, self evident and inescapable, that he was dead and in Hell.

He could be forgiven for assuming this, because Konan did not pull her punches, and Nagato's Izanami had left him completely defenseless. It probably would have had been less brutal if they'd simply had him drawn-and-quartered or flayed alive. Very nearly he HAD died, with his life functions dipping well below the standard baseline for several minutes, so far below that there was at least a quarter hour stretch of time during which his heart didn't actually beat.

Like, at all.

He came close enough to dying that his chakra dwindled too low for even Naruto to sense, and this was a man who could detect and discern the life energy of microbes. So that was saying a whole lot of something.

However, despite all this, Obito wasn't quite dead. Technically.

No, like a paragon among cockroaches, he clung to the faintest vestige of life even an hour after being left for dead in the smallest, wettest, smelliest ditch Nagato and Konan could find. Uchiha were tenacious sons of bitches to begin with, and as more than a third of the soft tissues in his body had been replaced with concentrated cell cultures from the Lord First Hokage, Obito was nearly impossible to put down.

Slow to bleed, slow to die – and with a healing factor to boot.

It took him a while to realize this himself, though. After what felt like a long and tumultuous epoch of horrible, soul-rending torment, lying there motionless and numb (though unfortunately not numb enough to escape the ungodly pain), he noticed that he could move one of his fingers when a weak, shuddering convulsion caused him to flinch and brush the digit against a piece of broken glass.

And then he spent several seconds in a disbelieving shock that somehow, despite even his own expectations, he had managed to survive that horrible, unspeakably brutal beatdown. He was alive.

Fucking alive.

He might have jumped to his feet in celebration if he still had the strength to do so. Or feet. The right one, at least, seemed to be slowly reforming, but the one on the left was a lost cause. In fact, that seemed to be the case for most of that side of his body, although his heart and head were still fortunately intact... More or less.

Irony, or so he presumed. Last time he came this close to death, the entire right side of his body had been all but crushed into a fine paste. He'd only survived, then, because Madara had been there to graft Hashirama putty onto that mashed and broken half of his carcass. And now because of that, this time it was the left side of his body that wouldn't be coming out of this disaster resembling anything close to functional, with his left arm and leg, and a good chunk of his abdomen, basically just gone.

Probably they were a red smear on some wall somewhere in the Rain Village, a bloody mess that was no doubt being washed away in meandering rusty rivulets by the ceaseless, omnipresent precipitation even as he thought about it. Gruesome, morbid, and horrendously excruciating.

That was pretty much the story of his life these days, wasn't it? Once again, he had come out of an otherwise certain death situation thanks to the modifications made to his body.

He felt significantly less grateful for that than was probably healthy.

Part of him wanted to just lie there and wait to die. But as he felt tendrils of questionably animal tissue threading through his perforated corpse to wrap thin cellulose cords around damaged organs, seeping as slowly as molasses through a sponge to fill the gaps and gaping holes in his mutilated anatomy, he knew that this was dreadfully unlikely to work. Not unless he waited two to three weeks, and even that was only assuming these bloody bastard plant cells were incapable of leeching nutrients from the soil.

"Ugh," he muttered. "Ugh."

Well, this was a nuisance. Not only had Nagato and Konan betrayed him, but they hadn't even had the decency to finish the job and make absolutely sure he was dead. So not only was he NOT released from his obligations and half-baked schemes, but now he would have to figure out some way to salvage his, or rather Madara's plans.

It was about now that Obito mused on the downside of making Nagato the face of Akatsuki's leadership. While it did allow him to deflect attention from himself while he waited and worked behind the scenes, it also meant that Tendou Pain – Nagato's Deva Path – was the person Akatsuki's members followed.

And while that had been perfectly fine and dandy back when Nagato was just a player dancing to the tune of his pipe, now that the Uzumaki descendant and his loyal partner had rebelled, it meant that Obito no longer had any real control over the organization.

That was kind of problematic.

Christ.

"Ugggghh," Obito miserably groaned.

How the hell was he going to get out of this mess? If he was going to continue Madara's plan, he would have to find some way to turn this situation in his favor. If Konan and Nagato chose to continue in the plans to gather the bijuu, then maybe he could just bide his time in the shadows and build his strength back up until they had all the Tailed Beasts, only to swoop in at the last second and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

If they carried on in his plans to collect the bijuu. But something told Obito that this was unlikely. Before he came along, Akatsuki had simply been an organization of freedom fighters – basically just a ramshackle militia, aside from the fact that one of its leaders possessed Madara's rinnegan. Their only goal had been to improve the quality of life in Ame.

More like a neighborhood watch committee than an extremist terrorist cell. At least by ninja standards.

And now that they had figured out his role in the death of their friend, and in turning Hanzo against their little band of merry men, it seemed unlikely that Nagato and Konan would carry out the plans he'd given them. They might try to return Akatsuki to its roots, even.

Hell, they might actually try to make nice with Hanzo.

This was troublesome.

Maybe he could try and lure some Akatsuki members away from the fold, so to speak? Even nearly a century after the founding of the hidden villages, the name of Madara Uchiha still carried a LOT of weight. People feared and respected that name. That man had become nearly mythologized in the shinobi world.

Nagato and Konan probably never would have thrown their lots in with some disenfranchised jerk off named Obito. But tell them he was the Madara Uchiha, and even the man with the makings of a full-on god complex would defer.

That was how just how big Madara's legend was. He was larger than life.

At least one or two of the Akatsuki members would probably come under his wing, that way. Kisame definitely, and Zetsu as well. That new recruit who'd just been teamed up with Kakuzu could probably also be easy to manipulate, especially if he offered the guy a chance for lots of murder and bloodshed in the name of his heathen god.

Kakuzu himself would be harder. Obito Uchiha didn't really have any capital to his name, now that Akatsuki had been taken out from under him. Pain and Konan were the ones with the resources, and they could easily keep the old cynic on board as long as they paid him and provided him sufficient opportunities to earn money.

Itachi was not an option, for several reasons. Not least of which because he'd seen the boy at that reunion, and knew the true reason behind Itachi's massacre of the clan. When you got down to it, Itachi was loyal to Konoha. Obito could try to pressure him by threatening to destroy the village and kill Sasuke if he didn't cooperate, but in his current state that would be suicidal.

Sasori was tricky. The guy didn't really have any strong motivations one way or the other. He worked for Akatsuki because it was something to do, and gave him at least somewhat of an umbrella against assassins and bounty hunters. There wasn't much Obito could use to manipulate a guy as detached as that, and while he could probably try getting him with a reverse therapy jutsu, that could just as easily backfire.

Deidara would be another challenge. On one hand, he hated Akatsuki with a fiery passion, which Obito could certainly use to lure him away from the organization. On the other hand, the guy also quite vocally hated Uchiha, and there was no telling what sort of reaction the name "Madara" might get from him. He might be cowed into serving him, OR he might go ballistic and blow the both of them sky high.

Obito sighed.

Well, he was getting ahead of himself, either way. After all, he was only barely alive at the moment, and badly dismembered besides. He maybe had enough chakra to slip into his pocket dimension. But most likely he'd pass out the moment he got there, if he tried using that space-time jutsu now.

Although that would be safer than lying in some ditch in Amegakure. That rain coming down was linked to one of Pain's sensory jutsu, and if he waited to accumulate enough chakra to use his transportation technique flawlessly he would almost certainly become a noticeable blip on the man's radar. And that would be cutting things a little too close for his tastes.

He'd be out of it for a while longer, probably, but at least in that pocket dimension he had the supplies to tend himself once he woke up.

It wasn't like the members of Akatsuki would be going anywhere any time soon.

With a groan, Obito rolled onto his good side and looked into the water for a moment as he channeled his chakra.

Then he blinked.

Blankly, Obito stared at his reflection. He looked like ruminated shit, but that was not what caught his attention.

No.

He looked at his eye. His fucking eye.

Not red, not black. Not a crimson iris embedded with a central pupil, supported by three tomoe. Not a slender, tri-bladed propeller churning a sea of blood.

Pure gray, with concentric circles.

Circles inside of circles inside of goddamn motherfucking circles.

He had a rinnegan. Somehow, after all this shit, he had awakened that eye.

The irony was not lost on him.

Throwing his head back, Obito Uchiha broke out into hysterical, miserable laughter.

Kakuzu stared bemusedly, for a moment, at the big pile of nothingness that had not a second earlier been his newest partner. A part of him wanted to laugh, seeing the one guy who'd actually seemed able to survive his rampages thanks to being literally immortal utterly destroyed with just a flick of the wrist.

Of course, it was the idiot's own fault for charging someone like this headlong. One of the only limitations of his immortality was that Hidan did not heal appreciably faster or better than a normal person. He couldn't regenerate a lost limb: it needed to be sewn back on, reattached. He was pretty tough, and Kakuzu's threads were ideal for tending to any especially troublesome wounds the idiot might receive, but there were limits to what could be repaired.

Honestly, given how common explosive notes and paper bombs were, Kakuzu found it amazing that Hidan hadn't gotten himself blown to bits ages ago. That immortality might be useful against people who relied on precision killing blows, or even against most of Kakuzu's worst elemental jutsu, but there were monsters out there to whom Hidan's curse jutsu and immortal body would be little more than a mild inconvenience.

Some of those monsters even worked for Akatsuki.

Hidan was like a child who had grown arrogrant from having a halfway useful parlor trick up his sleeve. To Kakuzu, the young man's attitude was laughable. He had a nifty ability, but no worthwhile idea of how to employ it. Just because he couldn't bleed out or die from ordinarily mortal wounds, the dumbass thought he was invincible.

Kids today didn't know what true power looked like. They got cocky over mastering simple jutsu and clever bits of weapon handling. These recent generations were soft and coddled. People like Hidan could never understand.

Kakuzu understood power. He knew what real strength looked like, had witnessed true mastery of the shinobi arts.

His parents had lived through the Warring States Era, in those days of endless conflict and indiscriminate bloodshed. Kakuzu himself had served in a handful of battles, carried out a couple missions, before the hidden village system gained popularity. His parents, his family – barely large enough to be called a true clan, although they had a respectable history – joined the Hidden Waterfall Village shortly after it was formed. They were weary of the old ways, and sincerely believed that, as part of a larger collective, they could find something like security and prosperity.

Kakuzu inherited that idealism, and those hopes kindled a zealous fervor in his heart. He served the village, believing in the dreams of his parents, doing whatever was asked of him as a shinobi. In this way he rose through the ranks, earning himself a reputation for completing every mission he was given without fail.

And so he was eventually entrusted with a task of the greatest danger and difficulty. A task that everyone believed to surely be impossible.

Perhaps, in hindsight, they had meant it as a suicide mission. Maybe he'd risen too far in prestige and begun to worry the leadership with his sterling reputation and growing status. Or maybe they had simply been stupid and desperate enough to think it could actually be done.

Whatever the case, he was given that fateful mission to assassinate the Lord First Hokage, Hashirama Senju.

Kakuzu hadn't stood a chance.

He'd thought himself a skilled ninja, before then, believed that he was talented, and that with enough determination any obstacle could be overcome. And Hashirama had seemed trusting, oblivious to the idea that anyone might want him dead. It was so easy to get in close, the man didn't seem to suspect anything untoward even as Kakuzu drew his dagger...

But that was as far as he got.

The woman beside the Hokage, his wife Mito, pierced Kakuzu with a cold glance the instant he resolved to strike. He froze up beneath her gaze.

"He is here to kill you, dear."

She said that to Hashirama, betrayed the purpose of Kakuzu's visit with such nonchalance that almost he had felt tempted to laugh, because OF COURSE the crazy bitch wouldn't sound worried even when a foreign shinobi was inches away from plunging a knife through her beloved's throat.

But then Hashirama laid a hand on Kakuzu's wrist, and looked him in the eye.

He knew true fear, in that instant.

This was no mere ninja. This was not a lowly mortal man like himself. This was something else, something great and terrible and utterly beyond his ken. Ancientry and grandeur, something as old as the green forests, as deep as the oceans and immovable as the mountains. Unassailable, indomitable.

Invincible. Truly and absolutely.

Hashirama never even needed to lay a hand on Kakuzu. Did not have to say a word or make a single threatening gesture. That single glance vanquished the assassin, unmanned him and laid him low, robbing him of all resolution, all determination.

Kakuzu fell to his knees in awe and horror. All thoughts of completing his mission, of killing his target, fled his mind.

He could see it.

Hashirama sat behind his desk.

And behind him was a great, spectral bodhisattva, an austere god with a thousand hands and a carven, dispassionate visage. The weight of that glance, the quiet consideration of something so immense and lofty, was enough to crush Kakuzu and press his face to the ground.

He vomited in terror, trembling and weeping uncontrollably. Wordlessly begging for mercy.

Hashirama dismissed him with a single, unconcerned gesture. Graced him with a slight pitying smile.

That smile was more than Kakuzu's own village showed him.

Disgraced by his failure, and fearful of retaliation, Takigakure's leadership resolved to have Kakuzu executed in a gesture of reconciliation. After everything he had done for the village, the unflinching loyalty he had shown them, they betrayed him over that single failure. Planned to execute for coming short of doing the impossible.

This betrayal showed Kakuzu the truth of the world. And that encounter with Hashirama showed him what true power looked like.

Kakuzu was well-informed. He knew that there was only one man who had ever been considered even close to equaling Hashirama Senju. Hell, any school child could have told you that much. He also knew that the man who appeared before himself and Hidan was one of the only people to survive a battle with that man.

Fence-Sitter Ohnoki, master of the unparalleled particle style. He and his mentor, the Null Man Mu, escaped a fight against Madara Uchiha with their lives intact.

The Sandaime Tsuchikage was probably one of the only men alive with whom Kakuzu felt the need to tread lightly; him, Pain, and Hiruzen Sarutobi. Those were the only three shinobi on this planet to whom Kakuzu could imagine himself possibly even marginally inferior. And of those three, Ohnoki was the only one whose strength he could conceivably compare to the First Hokage.

Shinobi no Kami was not a title given lightly, and the rinnegan was a power straight from the annals of myth and legend, but Ohnoki survived a battle against Madara Uchiha as a lowly genin. He and his master fought the only man to have ever stood within spitting distance of Hashirama Senju's power, and they lived to tell the tale.

That was enough to convince Kakuzu to respect this man's power, even apart from the awesome reputation of the jinton he wielded.

And Hidan charged him straight-on with no plan. Suicide, plain and simple. Immortality didn't mean much when a single attack could obliterate you on a subatomic level and erase every corporeal trace of your existence with the ease of swatting a fly.

"Hmph. So much for sewing that idiot back together," Kakuzu muttered, looking up at the Third Tsuchikage.

This statement betrayed nothing of his trepidation or worry.

Ohnoki snorted.

"Don't worry," he said, forming a second cone of light between his hands. "You'll join him soon enough."

Kisame Hoshigaki tilted his head bemusedly when Samehada began to squirm in her bindings. She whispered to him in a voice he knew well, tied to his chakra and his blood. Told him of a familiar scent, the signature of a man they called demon.

Kisame was sitting outside the quarters of the minor noble who had hired himself and Itachi as bodyguards, covering for his partner as the Uchiha dealt with some unfinished family business. He had water clones covering every point of ingress, disguised under henge to avoid drawing suspicion.

Security here was airtight, thanks chiefly to himself. But someone managed to get through all the same.

Kisame smiled.

"Hello, Zabuza-san. Fancy meeting you here."

The Demon of the Hidden Mist held the Executioner Blade to his former comrade's neck. Kisame did not so much as flinch.

"Mei would like a word with you, Kisame." Zabuza's voice was low as ever, gravelly and deep. His tone was grim, serious. "Kiri is cleaning up the mess it's made these past couple of decades, and you're one of the biggest spills."

Kisame smiled. It was all teeth.

"Is that so?" he replied. "I must say, this is quite a surprise, Zabuza-san... I had been under the impression that you were determined to install yourself as Mizukage. But now you are taking orders from Mei-chan? My, my, how the mighty have fallen."

"I had a change of heart," Zabuza said. "Not that I expect you to understand, but I was reminded of what a real kage should be. That kid, Uzumaki..." He shook his head. "Heh, a thug like myself could never make the cut. I'm just here to do Lady Mizukage's dirty work."

He pressed the edge of his sword a hair tighter against Kisame's neck. Not enough to draw blood, but it was distinctly uncomfortable. A lesser man would have started sweating bullets.

Kisame was cool as a cucumber.

"So the rabid demon has become a lowly attack dog?" he said. "How sad. But I must wonder, if you don't think you have the power to become Mizukage... then how do you possibly delude yourself into believing that you can match this kaijuu?"

"That kind of thinking is a trap," Zabuza said, smirking. "One that a ninja of your caliber should know to avoid. Yes, I said I'm not cut out to be Mizukage... but I wasn't talking about power. Frankly, I'd say we're about equal, aside from that monster you've got strapped to your back."

"You greatly overestimate yourself, I think," Kisame chuckled, grasping the edge of Zabuza's sword. "Or else dreadfully underestimate me, if you dare to call us equals."

He pushed the sword away from his neck, unbothered by the edge of it digging into his palm. Blood seeped out over the blade, and Kisame smiled as he grabbed Samehada's hilt with his other hand. Zabuza's hands tensed, and his arms flexed with effort.

"I wasn't apprenticed to Fuguki-sensei for my dashing good looks, after all."

Kisame started to draw his weapon.

Then he stopped.

Suddenly, his grip went slack, and his arms slumped bonelessly at his side. Needles protruded from his flank, his shoulders, his wrists.

A beat.

"And I wasn't called the master of silent killing for charging my enemies head on," Zabuza replied, affording himself a small grin. "That Samehada is a frightful weapon, I'll admit, not least of which because of your mastery... but I reckon I've got a pretty keen sword of my own in reserve."

A smile.

"Kisame, meet my apprentice."

A slight, slender figure garbed in the manner of Kiri's hunter corps stepped out of the shadows. Silken black hair was contained in a bun, and a porcelain mask concealed the ninja's face.

"Haku," Zabuza added, nodding to the hunter-nin. "Meet your prey."

Kisame laughed.

"So you've got a partner of your own, do you?" he mused. "Pretty young, though. I daresay mine could beat yours." He inclined his head. "In fighting or crossdressing. He's a very pretty man, that Itachi."

"I do not doubt he could best me... in combat," Haku responded. "I have witnessed the fearsome prowess of the Uchiha clan first hand, and I know that I have a very long way to go before I can measure up to such an opponent. In combat."

A moment of silence. Something like a smile might have come onto the youth's face.

"...but Mei-sama says I can pull off a sailor uniform better than any girl."

Kisame arched an eyebrow. "You?" he said. "And Mei-chan? Now there is something I would have not expected."

"She likes younger men," Haku said with a shrug. "And as for myself, well... ahh... I can't imagine there's a straight man alive who could say no to her."

Zabuza coughed into his fist. "You'd be surprised," he muttered.

Sacrificial lamb? Kisame mouthed, looking from Haku to Zabuza.

She was getting obsessed with finding a nice guy, Zabuza mouthed back. Scarily so.

Kisame shook his head pityingly.

"She was always quite fond of younger men..." he said. "But how old are you, then? If she's picked you for her boy toy."

"Sixteen," said Haku. "My birthday was a few weeks ago."

"I see." Kisame squinted at Haku. "And when is she planning the wedding for?"

"Next June," Haku said, sounding quite happy.

Kisame shook his head again. "She has him bad, doesn't she?"

Zabuza shrugged hopelessly.

"I think it's an honor to be chosen as Lady Mizukage's intended," Haku interjected demurely. "I hope to do her station proud and become a bride worthy of Mei-sama."

A beat.

"Er... I think you mean bridegroom," Kisame replied.

"I know what I said❤" Haku chirped. "She was quite insistent on that part. Said I would look better in the bridal clothes than she would❤"

Kisame sweatdropped.

"I see..." He turned his head to look at Zabuza. "And this is the woman you're planning to bring me back to?"

"Unless you prove uncooperative," Zabuza said, waving a hand airily. "Then I'm authorized to kill you. And since Haku has already hit your pressure points... well, what do you think the prudent choice would be?"

A beat.

Kisame was silent for a minute.

"Well?" Zabuza said. "What do you say?"

Kisame coughed.

"I'm weighing my options," he answered.

"She's not that bad," Zabuza said, rolling his eyes. "Especially not now that she's got a boyfriend in Haku, and doesn't feel so self-conscious about being unmarried. Honestly, I was on the fence about her myself, until I really bothered to look..." He shrugged. "But when I did, I realized that she had the same eyes as that kid... something you can't fake or copy. Real quality... a singular purity of purpose and surety of resolve. The eyes of a true kage."

Kisame stared at Zabuza.

"What kid?" he wondered, catching a second reference to something odd.

Haku smiled. Somehow, even with it hidden underneath the boy's mask, Kisame was immediately aware of this fact. Almost the air seemed to light up with warm recollection, a nearly tangible fondness.

"Your partner's brother," he whispered. "Sasuke Uchiha, and his teammate Sakura Haruno... They were unlike anything I have ever seen. Monstrously powerful, eclipsing even the legendary Copy Ninja. But even they..."

"...deferred to that runt," Zabuza said, "that kid who could rehabilitate even the lowest and most remorseless scum on the face of this earth with a single punch and a two minute lecture." He chuckled. "I don't know, maybe he's actually even more powerful than them... but all I saw was a dazzling radiance. Some quality that shined through even in a snot-nosed punk like him.

"I'd never seen anything like it.

"And I thought, looking at him... I couldn't help but think... that this was what a kage should be. That next to this kid, my own inadequacy was perfectly apparent. I wasn't ready. I didn't have what it took. Next to someone like him, or like Mei... simple thugs like you or me just can't measure up. Strength is our only virtue."

Haku nodded.

"Yes, there was just something about him... about his friends. That Naruto Uzumaki."

"So, Kisame, old pal," said Zabuza, turning to face the piscine shinobi. "What say you now?"

A moment of silence.

"I'm still weighing my options."

"Tch... This is pathetic."

A wave of glittering black crashed over a gilt fluid rampart. White noise, hissing, the tumultuous grating of hundreds of thousands of metallic grains rolling and tumbling together. Tendrils arched out, coils and wisps of gold and iron twining and thundering in a cataclysmic violence.

Like a piece of abstract art, the Yondaime Kazekage's gold dust wrestled with the Sandaime's iron sand. It was a near stalemate, a fierce duel of Hidden Sand Magnet Style.

Sasori stared blankly at Rasa. If he could, he would have smirked. "Hmph. Don't blame yourself, Fourth. Your predecessor's jutsu is simply too powerful for you to beat."

Swirling, leaping, darting and rushing and rising and falling, hundreds of shapes clear and indefinable, thousands of points where these fluid masses met and pushed. It was beautiful and indescribable, the contest of these metallic sands. No words could convey how subtly the substances interplayed, the millions of ways in which they were shaped and moved against each other.

Like tie dye and lava lamps, blood spatter and stress fractures, there was a quintessential expression of chaos in the unpredictable turbulence of these wrestling jutsu. It was conceptual sumo, a battle of wills which defied literal or mathematical expression. Like water coming out of a faucet, the swirling clouds of a hurricane, sand sliding down the sides of an excavation. It was marvelous.

"Who said I was talking about my own performance?" Rasa growled out, wheeling his arms, keeping the iron sand at bay with his denser but softer gold dust. He didn't appear at all tired or perturbed as he directed his medium like the conductor of an orchestra.

He stepped back and thrust two clenched fists forward. His gold dust crashed through the iron sand, a stampeding bulwark that scattered the ferric filings like leaves before a gale. Splaying his fingers, he then spread the mass of gold out in a curling tidal wave that threatened to drown Sasori and his marionette.

"That puppet of yours can't even compare to the real thing," Rasa spat. "The Sandaime's jutsu was nowhere near this WEAK!"

Lady Chiyo watched this display, her grandson's Mother and Father puppets on standby.

Sasori glared and drew his own hands wide apart.

Satetsu Kaihou. Fractal branches of iron lashed out, crossbeam struts and pillars catching the crashing wave of gold, distorting and disrupting it.

Rasa scoffed and turned on his feet, moving his arms in flowing downward arcs. His gold poured in serpentine tendrils, diving through the mesh of forked iron barbs, fingers ducking down the path of least resistance and flooding a world of ferric sand.

"Pathetic," he repeated. "Simply pitiful. That puppet might have the chakra, the jutsu of the Sandaime Kazekage, but it lacks any will aside from your own. The power and flexibility of its techniques are limited by your experience and tactical prowess."

He shook his head, feeling his gold sand bury Sasori and the Third Kazekage puppet.

"Maybe that puppet is enough against most foes, but it's merely a shadow of the true kage. Just a pale imitation." He curled his hands slowly into fists. "But feel honored, Akasuna... for few men indeed are floated across the Styx in coffins of pure gold."

The sands imploded.

High above the battlefield, on a large sculpted bird, a vaguely effeminate man sat crosslegged. He was deep in thought. His flying mount dodged beams of electric blue, a laser barrage aimed to snipe him out of the sky.

Okay, Deidara. Let's think about this logically. So, apparently your art is defused when it comes into contact with lightning chakra. That's kind of a big weakness when fighting two of the strongest raiton users alive, but I'm sure you can figure SOMETHING out.

The clay bird dropped a few more clay bombs, mostly just to give those bastards on the ground something else to shoot at. The guy with the sword was the main problem, with that long distance ranton ninjutsu of his, but the Raikage and the Nibi were nothing to sneeze at, either.

The Fourth Raikage's lightning armor was troublesome, and seemed capable of tanking smaller explosions that were set off outside its immediate reach, even apart from automatically defusing any of Deidara's bombs that happened to touch the man. The blond couldn't use his most powerful attacks, either, for fear of instantly killing the Two-Tails jinchuuriki.

The bosses would NOT be happy if he fucked that up.

Deidara groaned in frustration.

"Dammit!" he cursed. "What the hell am I supposed to do against those bastards, if they can no-sell my basic stuff, and any attacks that might be strong enough to kill them without getting close enough for the bastards to defuse would probably kill the Nibi, too?"

"Don't worry," came a woman's voice, interrupting him. "Sit still for a moment, and I'll take care of all your problems."

Deidara blinked.

"Eh?" He turned to see Yugito Nii crouching on the back of his bird, right behind him. "WHA—?! How the hell did you get up here?!"

"I jumped," said Yugito blithely.

With a swipe of her hand, she sliced the bird into ribbons.

Then she stepped forward and kicked Deidara in the head, sending him plummeting into accelerated freefall moments before she began to descend, herself. Chakra like blue flames quickly engulfed her form, taking the shape of a giant nekomata.

From below, Deidara saw a panther of black lightning leap into the air. Right towards him.

He closed his eyes and prayed it would be over quickly.

"Hey, Kakashi?"

Anko's voice broke the man out of his reverie, and he looked distractedly up from the voluptuous violette's disheveled blouse and hiked skirt. He tasted wasabi in his mouth, which was funny because he hadn't eaten anything remotely spicy today.

He cocked his head to one side. "Yes, Anko?"

She furrowed her brow, and the cuteness of this gesture almost tore Kakashi's attention completely from the coziness of this supply closet, and the damp warmth of her breath on his cheek. Left-biased binocular vision eagerly drank in the sight of the woman's face, committing every detail to memory.

Kakashi's hands were distractingly busy as he met Anko's gaze.

Faintly, he could hear Lady Tsunade whooping and hollering as she broke out the sake. Heaven only knows where she might have found it.

"What happened to your sharingan?" Anko asked him. "It looks all funky."

Kakashi frowned. "Funky?"

"Yeah. 'S'weird. Kinda sickly looking." She prodded his chest, perhaps more to explore the bared skin than to actually emphasize her point.

"Er, could you be a little more specific?"

"Its color is weird. The pattern, too," Anko said. "All gray and ringy."

Kakashi blinked. "Ringy? Gray?"

"Uh-huh," Anko nodded. "It's strange. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure sharingan aren't supposed to look like that."

She handed him a compact mirror.

Kakashi looked at his face, ignoring the torn mask and smudges of lipstick. He stared at the reflection of his eye.

"Huh. That is odd," he agreed, looking at the concentric rings devoid of tomoe, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a single raindrop. It didn't seem like a sharingan at all. In fact, something about the appearance of Obito's eye dimly reminded him of an illustration he'd seen in an old storybook...

What was it called?

Something death-related, vaguely pretentious...Tengan? Shigan?

Unbidden, he thought of Rin. Odd and faintly sobering.

He cocked his head.

Rin. Rin...?

...Rin...ne?

Ah!

"Rinnegan," he muttered. "That's the word I'm looking for. It looks like a rinnegan."

Anko blinked. "Rinnegan? Samsaric Eye? That sounds awfully pretentious. You sure it isn't sick?" she repeated. "Because it looks pretty sick. I think you might wanna have Tsunade or someone take a look at it."

"It's probably just a mutation," Kakashi said dismissively. Then he shrugged, and leaned in a little closer. "But... where were we, before that?"

Anko smirked. "Heh, the fun part, of course," she purred, snaking a hand down his trousers.

Kakashi smiled and took a handful for himself.

"Yes, that sounds about right."

Something exploded, somewhere in the rec center, to shouts and raucous cheers from an assortment of drunk Uzumaki (and some distant Uchiha relatives). Tsunade crowed victoriously, and Jiraiya's howling laughter resounded through the building.

Kakashi couldn't care less.

Itachi blinked rapidly as his eyes were uncovered. The light in the room, though truthfully a tad dim, seemed terribly bright. It was dizzying. He looked around at his surroundings, which were so crisp and clear that he felt a touch of vertigo.

The change from near legal blindness to better than 20/20 vision was unreal. It threw him off, and he blinked again. Repeatedly. He tried reflexively to clear his eyes, a primitive and reptilian part of his brain assuming that this sudden change from its accustomed visual resolution was the result of something getting in his eyes – it registered the difference, but didn't yet parse the fact that it was an improvement.

It was almost painful, this sudden ocular clarity. After so much time spent being conditioned by steadily deteriorating eyesight to squint and tense and focus, the abrupt dearth of any need to do so threw him considerably. It took a conscious effort to relax his eyes and simply look, and he felt the pang of a slight migraine.

Anyone who has ever gotten a new prescription after years of growing accustomed to the scratched and degraded lenses of their eyeglasses, or after a similar length of time in which their visual acuity naturally degenerated, has experienced a comparable sensation, though perhaps not so severely as in Itachi's case. That dizzying moment when you're forced to acclimate to suddenly improved eyesight, where you look around at your surroundings and try to process the abrupt jump in resolution.

It was basically exactly like that.

He felt a mild headache, suddenly aware of how much he had overcompensated for his poor eyesight before now. He forced his eyes to relax, and felt a wave of drowsiness. Lids sagged, and he shook his head in an attempt to discard this weariness like a dog shaking moisture out of its fur.

Blink. Blink.

He looked at his brother, who smiled wanly. Sasuke's eyes were closed, a bit of blood drying on his cheeks.

"You didn't have to give me your eyes, Sasuke," he said, feeling rather perturbed. "Honestly, you must know by now that I am quite ill... I don't have very long to live."

Sasuke waved an airy hand.

"They'll grow back," he said. "And as far as your sickness, we can fix that easily enough. Didn't I tell you? My wife is the best medic in history. Orders of magnitude beyond even Tsunade in skill. She can cure your illness, no problem."

"Er, perhaps so... but eyes don't grow back, Sasuke."

"I don't think you appreciate just how good Sakura is," Sasuke said, a hint of laughter in his tone.

Insert literary smashcut here.

"Regrow your eyes? Of course I can," Sakura said, looking from Sasuke to the still-disguised Itachi. She shrugged.

Itachi stared. Either he was sleepier than he thought, or these two were completely insane.

(To be fair, he was feeling incredibly tired.)

"But, jeez, honey," Sakura sighed, looking at Sasuke. "Did you really have to give him both eyes whole? If you'd come to me, first, I probably could've activated his EMS without any need for a physical transplant."

She looked at Itachi with a wry grin. Pointed at Sasuke as if to say what am I gonna do with this guy?

Then she chuckled, and nodded half to herself.

"It's actually fairly simple, really..." she mumbled, humming in the back of her throat. "...just have to trick certain hormone receptors in the brain, and spoof your ocular chakra signature... Easy as pie, to be frank."

"Um," said Itachi, at something of a loss.

"Oh, right," Sakura said. "Your disease. What was it, again?"

"I never said," Itachi answered.

Sakura shrugged. "Well, no matter. If it has you spitting up blood from overexertion, I think I can narrow it down far enough to make an educated guess. The central problem is probably around... here, or so."

She placed a hand over his chest, then. Itachi saw her fingers begin to glow with chakra, and suddenly he felt his lungs clearing up.

A soothing warmth spread out from the point of contact, washing over his entire body. He felt twisted or misaligned joints pop back into place, scars and old wounds tingling as they healed over with fresh skin, sore muscles loosening and unknotting.

He took a deep breath, and felt none of the wet itching pain to which he had grown morbidly accustomed. He filled his lungs to capacity, and found that it did not hurt at all. There was no tingling in his bronchial tubes, no building impulse to coughhackwheezeCOUGH.

A mild sinus congestion he hadn't even noticed up and vanished, phlegm and mucus in the back of his throat breaking down into a neglible, perfectly manageable particulate. The slight migraine he'd been feeling faded. Even the drowsiness which had plagued him seemed to lessen, his mind clearing up as much as his vision had.

He stared at Sakura, dumbfounded as he realized that all of this had happened in under a second. She hadn't even woven a single seal. She merely laid a hand on his chest and willed her chakra to act.

Could that even be called medical ninjutsu? It was unreal.

Itachi felt...

Perfect.

No ailments, no ills, no tiny aches or pains. Not a single negative status effect whatsoever. Like he'd just chugged an elixir, or been hit with a Cure-All.

This wasn't medicine. This was miracle working.

"Huh?" he said intelligently. "Wait, how did you—?"

"You're very fit. And those boyish good looks... I can definitely see where Sasuke gets it from," Sakura remarked. She looked up at him and winked.

Itachi suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Um..." he said, starting to panic. "Er..."

"Be nice, Sakura," Sasuke interjected. "Don't tease the poor guy."

"It's not teasing," Sakura insisted. "He really is very handsome."

"Then don't flirt with him in front of me. It's weird."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "You may have been back in town for a while, ever since Naruto reassigned you as a jounin instructor, but I still have over a decade of sexual frustration to make up for."

"It's funny how you only started flirting like this after I came back home," Sasuke mused.

"A woman's heart is fickle," Sakura said airily. "She always wants what she can't have."

"I thought that was men," Sasuke deadpanned. "And what about Hinata?"

"Ehh. All vertebrate embryos start out inherently female, anyways." She shrugged. "Only meaningful difference is that some of us wind up growing penises somewhere in development. And Hinata doesn't really count. She's more a case of single-target sexuality than anything else."

Sakura then removed her hand from Itachi, and stepped over to her husband/boyfriend/lover/teammate. She smiled coyly.

"But speaking of Hinata, I really should thank that girl..." the pinkette mused. Itachi watched perplexedly as a new, deeper and denser chakra flickered to life in her core. "She's a very generous woman. Giving me the Yang half of the chakra she got from old man Hamura..."

Itachi watched as this strangely thick and vibrant energy swaddled Sakura's hand. For a moment, he glimpsed a light circle mark on one of her palms.

"Wasn't that just so she'd be able to claim a perfect sort of Yin-Yang duality with Naruto?" Sasuke drawled. "And I thought she gave you that chakra for giving her and Naruto the push to become a couple, anyway."

"Well, yes," Sakura conceded. "And yes. But I refused payment, so she said it was a gift instead. 'If this chakra is mine by right, then I should be free to share it with whomever I may.' Hah! That girl..."

She shook her head.

"And, besides, thanks to her I got to form a perfect Yin-Yang duo with you, hon." She placed her hands over Sasuke's empty eye sockets. "Plus, y'know, if it weren't for this chakra, I'd probably actually still be somewhat worse at healing than Naruto. And that would be just silly."

"It would, indeed," Sasuke mused.

Sakura removed her hands after a second.

Itachi stared, seeing his brother's eyes back as good as new. Curiously, he watched pure black orbs turn to a three-comma sharingan, then a complex Eternal Mangekyou.

Then they went a step higher. Sasuke's right eye actually seemed to regress into an ordinary sharingan, but Itachi could see that the chakra in that eye was even denser and brighter than it had been in his EMS. And the left eye became something else entirely, gray and ringed, with many tomoe in concentric orbits, like the electron shell around an atomic nucleus.

Curiously, Itachi felt his own eyes tingle in response. A moment later, he found his vision split. With one eye he looked at Sasuke. With the other, he saw both Sasuke and himself.

Sasuke looked at Itachi and smiled.

"Interesting," he said. "Usually I only have this split screen eyesight going on when I make a shadow clone. But then, we do share the same eyes now, don't we? Even if your rinnegan is on the opposite side."

Itachi blinked.

"Well," he muttered. "You did mention possessing such a doujutsu, didn't you?"

"That I did. Now we just have to figure how to turn this shared visual field off. It's kind of distracting."

"Jikuukan: Derorian no Jutsu?"

"No, that one sends you back body and all. Or at least it's supposed to."

"Ah, fair enough. How about this, then? Hiden: Anotoki no Jutsu?"

"Hrm, maybe... but that's more like a flashback genjutsu, isn't it? Not really time travel at all."

The Third Hokage frowned thoughtfully.

"Are you sure the technique responsible for you and your friends landing in this time can be found in here?" Hiruzen gestured to the First Hokage's scroll of sealing, the Forbidden Scroll which they had unfurled across his office floor. He and Naruto were kneeling over it, scouring it for purported time travel techniques.

"Yeah, almost certainly," Naruto said with a sagely nod. "I've given this a lot of thought. Most such jutsu were gathered up and sealed away by me. I don't know about the other kage, but as for myself, the only alleged time travel jutsu that I didn't lock away completely were the ones located in the Forbidden Scroll."

He laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of the neck.

"To be clear, I did put censoring seals over the entries... but I didn't destroy them completely. It's a valuable cultural heritage, after all. I could have made a new Forbidden Scroll, of course, and transcribed all of the non time-travel jutsu onto it, then destroyed or sealed away the original... but I guess I just felt a little guilty about fooling around with it as a kid."

Hiruzen hummed and nodded in understanding. He flicked his eyes over a particularly unlikely culprit – Chuunin Shiken Dei no Jutsu – and stroked his beard.

"What kind of censoring seals, might I ask?"

"Uzumaki derived," Naruto said. "Keyed to my blood, and the Hokage position, with provisions to de-censor for trusted chakra signatures."

"I see. It's unlikely that just anyone could have read them, then. At least, not without your blood and the key."

Naruto nodded. "Yeah. Even if someone was given access to the Forbidden Scroll, they wouldn't have been able to read those jutsu without my permission."

"Had any been?" Hiruzen said. "Given exemption from the censor seals, that is. Those are memetic in nature, to my understanding, so it's unlikely that a mere doujutsu could have penetrated it. Correct? It compels the brain to automatically censor any information related to what that seal covers, aside from merely encrypting and concealing the text."

"Er, yeah. I think that's how Shikamaru explained it..." Naruto laughed. "And, yeah. I have given three people access since I put those seals in place. For one of them, it was strictly temporary. Testing to make sure they worked, and all that. The other two were Shikamaru and Konohamaru. Sasuke didn't trust himself enough to accept permanent access, and Sakura and Hinata also turned it down."

"Konohamaru?" Hiruzen said, looking a touch surprised.

Naruto shrugged.

"At present, he's one of the most likely people to succeed me. Though some of the newer generation are also showing promise... Well, either way, Sasuke's my top jounin, and Shikamaru's my advisor, but Konohamaru is my disciple."

The Sandaime smiled. "Has he become such a fine shinobi, indeed?"

"One of the best," Naruto said, grinning. Then he scratched the back of his neck. A familiar tic. "...and also the third or second most likely culprit for having sent us back in time."

Hiruzen stared.

"...so he is still not above causing trouble, then?"

Naruto sweatdropped. "No comment."

A moment of silence passed. Naruto gingerly marked Kinpou: Seijin Koshin Jikan Mawashi no Jutsu as a strong possibility.

"Who do you figure as the most likely culprit, then?" Hiruzen inquired, a moment later.

"That," Naruto said, "I think I'll leave as a surprise."

He chuckled enigmatically.

Chapter Text

"More sake! Keep it comin'! I ain't half drunk enough for this shit, yet!"

Uproarious laughter sounded through the ruins of the rec center. Tables were upended, chairs splintered and buckled, glass shards from beer bottles liberally sprinkling the floor. Music came intermittently, warped and warbling, out of smoking, sparking speaker systems. Half of the lights were burnt out or dangling by their wires from the ceiling, flashing on and off as they swayed side to side. Walls were pitted and perforated with holes of every size.

Unconscious bodies were scattered to and fro in varying states of dress. A number of soused, drowsing young adults wore aught but lampshades and togas fashioned from tablecloths. Redheads of every age and shape were clustered here and there in small groups, along with a smattering of black, brown, and dirty blond-haired folk. Tipsy women leaned on redfaced men, and vice versa, more than a few hands from both genders roaming to decidedly inappropriate places.

Anecdotes and dirty jokes were swapped in slurred or too-loud voices, along with spit and blows as a few people degenerated hither and yon into making out or duking it out. More than a few fistfights erupted, and with the way some unlikely couples were going it seemed that at least a few of the Uzumaki and Uchiha relatives were giving their college best at repopulating their respective clans.

The rec center was in shambles. Lee had gotten into some sake halfway into the party, thinking it was water.

All it took was one sip, and he roughly grabbed Karin by the waist and slung her over his shoulder, then went on a suiken rampage. And all of the people who might have been strong enough to actually stop him were either unconscious, busy getting down and dirty, too drunk to see past their own nose, or some combination of the above.

Karin, from the way she reacted though, was not especially unhappy with this. And Neji and Tenten, for their parts, were holding each other under a table and trying not to collapse in nervous paroxysms of drunk Rock Lee-induced PTSD.

They looked very cozy together, once you got past the gaping mouths and hundred yard stares.

Aoba Yamashiro, who had come in a while back on noise complaints only to be dragged into the back by a hungrily grinning Honoka, stumbled through the ruins of the rec center with his clothes in tatters, lipstick smudges all over his neck, and a dopey ear-to-ear grin on his face.

Tamaki of the Cat Clan, a late arrival on the Uchiha side, dragged a confusedly pleased-looking Kiba Inuzuka into the center with a guileless grin on her face. And Tayuya of the Sound, a late arrival on the Uzumaki side (who had only decided to come because neither hide nor hair had been seen of Orochimaru-sama in a month), glared daggers at any guy who looked funny at her and her date, Kin Tsuchi.

Kakashi and Anko were still buried in a closet somewhere, well on their way to walking crooked for a month. Killer Bee had an arm over a half-melancholy, half-flirtatious, all-drunk Natsuhi. Samui and Omoi, at the same time, were awkwardly trying to neither have a moment nor gag at the sight of Karui and Chouji sharing a small cake.

Iruka and Shizune were huddled together in a corner, pointedly ignoring the mayhem which had descended on the reunion as they gave a decent go at eating each other's faces off. A half empty bottle of champagne sat beside them.

Sakura was chatting with Sasuke and a thoughtful "Taro Yamada" (actually Itachi Uchiha in disguise), gesturing cheerfully to a very official-looking scroll bearing the Hokage's wax seal. Naruto, who had handed Sakura that scroll after popping back in, was now cozying up with Hinata and cheerfully listening to her as she recounted the recent events.

Tsunade and Jiraiya, at the heart of the storm that was the Uzumaki and Uchiha family reunion, were drinking like fish atop a hill of wreckage and rubble. The rec center was in shambles all around them. It looked like it had been hit by a hurricane or bijuu, but the truth was arguably scarier.

It was a battlefield, the aftermath of an Uzumaki party.

Some families forwent reunions and other gatherings because of blood feuds or grudges between branches. A cousin said something about someone's mother's haircut, or an uncle borrowed someone's best hedge clippers and then lost them, or a dispute between brothers split a clan down its center and entrenched each side in a smouldering hatred for the other that got passed down to their descendants for generations upon generations until no one could remember why the hell they hated each other so much.

You know, things like that.

When it came to Uzumaki, however, it was mostly just a matter of the property damage, hangovers, and bastards sure to ensue from any gathering of more than five of them in one place. Some older Uzumaki joked that this, and not fear of their fuuinjutsu prowess, was the real reason so many nations had joined forces just to try and wipe them out. Sure, they were capable of binding the god of death to a ceremonial mask, and yeah they had jutsu to rip the souls out of people's bodies and eternally deny them passage into the afterlife, but a pack of boozed up Uzumaki partying in the streets was more terrifying than any number of tailed-beasts.

Of course, the distant civilian Uchiha relatives gave their own hand at creating this chaos, too. They might not have inherited the visual prowess, potent chakra, ninjutsu talent, or name of their practically extinct shinobi kin, but they were every bit as passionate and impulsive. Even moreso, in a way, as they didn't try to act as stoic and emotionless as possible, unlike many of their late ninja relatives.

Uchiha and Senju, it must be said, were like oil and water. They simply did not mix.

Uchiha and Uzumaki, on the other hand, were like oil and fire.

They mixed all too well.

"What did you say about my mother?"

"I called her a very classy lady, sir..."

POW!

"She was a whore, you son of a bitch!"

A pair of bickering men crashed through one of the few intact tables left, sending half-empty glasses flying. One punched the other in the nose, and the other retaliated by kneeing the one in the groin. Equally infuriated, they went for each other's throats.

This barely warranted a second glance from the other partygoers.

An explosion rocked the building, and a goodly chunk of one of the outer walls was reduced to a fine particulate. Rubble crashed to the floor with a deafening noise, and smoke rushed through the air, all as a trio of giggling redheads scribbled out blasting seals on napkins.

No one reacted to this, unless you counted one very tipsy couple tripping over a bit of plaster and proceeding to make out in plain view of the sidewalk outside the new hole in the wall.

"I wanna rocks..." slurred a particularly drunk old man, elsewhere.

"Rocks in mah chest..." chorused his even drunker daughter beside him.

"In fighting as in love..." her husband crooned. "Something something... we are..."

"ON THE WAAAY!" they finished together, before taking a simultaneous draught.

At the same time, Rock Lee bobbed and weaved through a crowd of brawling drunks, sending bodies flying this way and that. He was a blur, swirling to and fro with fluid yet erratic movements.

Duck, punch, one-two, kick, kick, faceplant. Hiccup. Roll. Hop, spin, back on his feet. Punch, punch, punch.

And all while Karin clung to him like her life depended on it.

"Go home, Taro. You're drunk," said one teen to her friend, meanwhile.

"I swear to drunk, I'm not... fuck," her friend cursed. "I mean, I swear to fuck I'm not... oh, goddammit."

"You are so drunk."

"Oh, go god yourself. Drunk, I mean. No, FUCK." Taro shook his head. "I swear to tits, I am not looking at your ass."

"That one wasn't even close."

"...I swear to god I'm not horny?"

"I don't know, that isn't much bett... oh."

"Er, yeah. Sorry 'bout that, Hana-chan.."

"No, no," she said, nervously clearing her throat. "That... that's okay. I, uh..." A pause. Blush. "...er, that's okay. Very okay. Just perfect. It couldn't be better."

He blushed in turn, and said nothing. Both went awkwardly silent.

Neither one could meet the other's eye.

Another explosion rocked the building.

"I'm drunk," Jiraiya said, staring blearily into the distance.

"No shit," Tsunade retorted, taking another swig. "I can smell it."

"Are you sure that isn't yourself you're smelling, Princess?"

"I am not drunk," she sniped. "Up yours."

"I'm not into that, thanks." He laughed. "How about up yours, instead?"

"Pervert," Tsunade grumbled.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"When it comes to you? It is."

Jiraiya waved a hand airily, "Ah, you know you love me."

"Love is a strong word. Like, maybe. Or tolerate," Tsunade riposted. She shook her head with a sigh, then. "But yes, despite my better judgement, I do. Clearly, I've gone insane."

"Sanity is overrated," said Jiraiya sagely. "Better to be a crazy love fool than anything else, in this upside down world of ours."

He took another sip.

"But, I'll say it again..." he muttered after a moment of silence. "I must be extremely drunk right now."

"Because you've gone twenty minutes without chasing after some skirt?" Tsunade dryly quipped.

"No," Jiraiya said. He paused. "Well, yes. That too. But actually, I was referring to the hallucinations."

Tsunade punched him on the shoulder.

Just a normal human punch, no chakra-enhanced super strength to be found.

"If you're hallucinating anything about me, you'd better stop right now," she sniffed. "I know how that mind of yours works, and I do NOT want you thinking about me naked."

Then she paused.

"...wait, maybe I'm drunker than I thought, but I am pretty sure that hallucinations are not a normal effect of alcohol. Have you been putting something else in your drinks?"

"No," Jiraiya said. "At least, I don't think so. But... I have to be hallucinating."

"Maybe you really are crazy," Tsunade drawled.

"Maybe I am..." Jiraiya said thoughtfully. He groaned. "Dammit, drinking with you always makes me so melancholy! I wouldn't be thinking about this if I was with a nice cute, friendly hostess."

Tsunade snorted.

"You're not exactly the best drinking partner either," she replied. "I'm only gloomy because you're here."

Jiraiya shook his head distractedly. "I don't know... maybe I'm just seeing a fake resemblance. Tell me that girl doesn't look like Konan."

He pointed at a woman with blue hair and a fairly skimpy backless top.

"Who's that?" Tsunade said, squinting. "An old girlfriend?"

A beat.

"Jealous, are we?" Jiraiya smirked.

"Not of her," Tsunade promptly replied. "I'd sooner be jealous of you."

Jiraiya laughed and waggled his eyebrows.

"Even better!" he crowed. "That mental image..."

Tsunade punched him again on the shoulder. Hard, this time.

"Don't you start," she said warningly. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Sure it isn't," he said slyly. "But seriously, the resemblance really is uncanny... That isn't Konan, right? It can't be."

"Again, I have no idea who that is," Tsunade said, shaking her head.

Jiraiya looked at her thoughtfully. He frowned and scratched his chin.

"Do you remember those orphans in the Land of Rain?" he asked her. "The ones I stayed behind to teach."

Tsunade furrowed her brow for a minute, before slowly nodding. "Yeah, I think so. There were three of them, right?"

"Right," Jiraiya said. "And one of them was Konan. The girl, the blue-haired one. Do you remember now?"

"Hm... Uh-huh," Tsunade said. "It's a bit fuzzy, but I think I recall the face. She was a very cute little kid." She frowned, then, and gave Jiraiya a sidelong look. "You didn't..."

"Absolutely not," Jiraiya said firmly. "I'm not such a detestable human being as to go after a child, whatever else you might think of me."

"Okay, okay, I believe you," Tsunade said placatingly. She looked out into the crowd, peering over the wreckage. "But if that woman over there is Konan? Because she is quite striking, I must say..."

Jiraiya coughed. "Well, if she was, then I see no reason why I couldn't now..." he mumbled. "I mean, she'd be an adult woman by now. Perfectly capable of making her own decisions."

Then he shook his head.

"But that woman can't actually be Konan," he insisted. "It's impossible."

"Why?" Tsunade asked.

"She's dead," Jiraiya said grimly. "She has to be. Last I'd heard of them, they had crossed Hanzo, the reckless fools... and that was years ago, besides. Over a decade with no news."

Tsunade winced.

"Oh," she said, immediately understanding. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Jiraiya said. "The alcohol's just got me reminiscing, and I'm seeing a resemblance where there isn't any. I'm sure of it."

"Maybe you should go talk to her," Tsunade suggested. "Prove that it isn't that kid. Just so you stop tearing yourself up over the possibility."

"Yeah, maybe I should." Jiraiya nodded slowly. "It won't bother you if I hit on her, will it? Because I won't be able to help myself, I think. That is a very lovely lady."

"Bah, feel free," Tsunade said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like we're here together or anything. We just both happened to be invited by our respective pupils."

Jiraiya smiled and stood up.

"You're a good friend, Princess," he said.

"One of us has to be," Tsunade snorted.

Jiraiya walked over to the blue-haired woman in black. Tsunade watched him greet her, probably dropping a lame pick up line or cheesy compliment, maybe even propositioning her outright (Tsunade fiercely suppressed the unpleasant feeling that swelled in her gut at this thought).

She saw his eyes drop down to the woman's bare abdomen, her attire something that more conservative sorts might call borderline obscene. The idiot stared up and down the bluenette's body for at least a few seconds longer than was remotely polite. His grin was stupid as hell, too.

Tsunade resisted the urge to scoff.

The woman stared at Jiraiya as well, though. From this distance Tsunade couldn't quite make out her expression, but it probably wasn't anything terribly indicative of a receptiveness toward Jiraiya's laughable advances. The man's lines had been outdated and cheesy back when they were kids, and time had not made them any cooler or more effective.

Statistically, of course, Tsunade supposed that there must be some women who found Jiraiya charming, ones who were willing to shack up with him without payment up front. There was no accounting for taste, after all. But this woman was not one of them, judging by the way she slapped Jiraiya after several seconds of mutual staring.

Her expression turned livid, and she started snarling, hissing words that Tsunade could not hear or make out. But her voice did rise at one point, high enough for anyone to hear, loud and clearly accusatory.

"...how you ABANDONED us...!"

And then she slapped Jiraiya again. For a moment, he stood stock still, as if he were in shock.

Tsunade scowled. Well, maybe this woman was a former girlfriend, she thought darkly, if she was saying something like that...

She knew Jiraiya had commitment issues, but if this was what Tsunade thought it sounded it like, then he had reached an all time low. Knocking a woman up, then skipping town... the fact that Jiraiya had never done anything like this before was one of the only reasons Tsunade had ever even halfway tolerated his womanizing habits.

But then Jiraiya did something that shocked Tsunade out of her rueful introspection. Something she absolutely would not have EVER expected.

He retaliated. Slapped the woman right back.

"You... damn... FOOL!" he shouted, his voice loud and booming, his face livid.

Tsunade could hear him loud and clear. She was stunned. So too, it seemed, was the woman.

"I thought you were all DEAD!" Jiraiya roared, stomping and clenching his fists. "No matter how talented you might have been... the last thing I ever heard of you brats was that you'd made enemies of Hanzo! I taught you kids so you could survive, dammit! Not for you to throw your lives away fighting a hopeless battle!"

And suddenly the whole situation made a lot more sense... and also much less sense.

This was Konan, it seemed, and somehow that brat had survived all these years despite crossing Hanzo. No idea how THAT could have happened.

Still, Tsunade thought. At least she wasn't actually Jiraiya's baby mama.

That would have been just weird.

Hinata perked up, snuggled in next to Naruto as she was. Her yukata was a pale color that complimented her eyes, and emphasized the more classically beautiful aspects of her visage – pale skin, dark hair, all very graceful and aristocratic. It belied nothing of the capable kunoichi underneath.

She smiled serenely and squeezed the blond's hand, getting his attention. Naruto looked up, a vaguely bewildered expression on his face. He had been rather enjoying the warmth and faint flowery fragrance.

"Nagato-san is here," Hinata murmured.

"Is he, now?" Naruto said. "That's a surprise. How'd he get here so quickly, I wonder?"

"Possibly a reverse summoning, maybe," Hinata guessed. "But that's not important. We should go greet him. It's only polite."

Naruto nodded. "Right, we did put him through an awful lot of trouble, didn't we? I suppose I should at least have the decency to go and say hello."

"Yes, and I'll come with," Hinata said. "It will be nice to meet him under... happier circumstances."

"Yeah, probably," Naruto agreed.

They reached Nagato pretty quickly, with Hinata's byakugan enabling her to easily chart a short and clear path through the labyrinthine heaps of rubble and broken furniture. It was his Deva Path that they found, Yahiko's reanimated corpse used as a morbid sort of puppet and mouthpiece, rather than the man himself, but Naruto figured that Nagato was probably somewhere nearby anyways.

The man had to be within a certain range of his six paths to control them, if memory served him right.

That aside, D. P. (as Naruto had decided to mentally dub Nagato's Tendo, or Deva Path, Pain) was interestingly enough not wearing the usual Akatsuki cloak. His clothes were a conventional if somewhat old fashioned blend of dark fabric and fishnet trim, nothing worth more than a passing mention, and his eyes were staring across the large, intermittently lit room.

Hinata saw a woman who could only be Konan several meters away, in the direction Pain was looking. The bluenette looked to be having some manner of row with Jiraiya, her body language betraying an intricate and roiling melange of anger, distress, relief, frustration, bitterness, and sadness. Very complicated emotions, a visible turmoil.

Jiraiya was a bit more straightforward, with a shell of stern anger coating a blended, squishy core of elation and regret. At the same time, Pain's expression, while seemingly stolid and immovable, was flickering minutely at the edges, like a thick and pebbled skin peeling back to reveal the soft, bittersweet flesh underneath.

Hinata felt her stomach rumble, just a tiny bit.

"Hey, coz! Glad to see you could make it after all!" Naruto cheerfully greeted Pain. "How was the trip over?"

Nagato's Deva Path maintained a neutral expression and perfect composure. He did not jump or give a start. Despite that, however, it was clear from the slightest shift of the light in his rinnegan that this loud and sudden salutation caught him quite off guard.

He turned to look at Naruto, reluctant taking an eye off of Konan and Jiraiya. Almost imperceptibly, he frowned.

Hinata looked into those two gray, rippled eyes, remembering despite herself how her last encounter with this man had gone. If you could really call a corpse preserved, given a semblance of life, and manipulated via mad science and ninja voodoo puppetry a man. But the eyes were Nagato's, so perhaps that would do.

She stared into those rinnegan and smiled. It did not reach her eyes.

"It was... eventful," Pain said, phrasing the statement carefully. He frowned and looked askance at Hinata. "I did not think we would make it in time either, to be honest, but it seems the festivities have only just begun. The building is still standing."

The deadpan, perfectly monotone delivery of this line made it unclear whether Nagato meant the statement as a joke or a serious observation, but Naruto laughed all the same.

"You've been to an Uzumaki fiesta before, then, I take it?" he replied, chuckling.

"Once, that I can remember," Pain said. "I think it was my mother's birthday, and a handful of relatives came over. It was quite the experience."

"I can bet," Naruto said, nodding emphatically. "I understand my own mom's sweet sixteen was a helluva thing. She and her friend Mikoto burned down half of the Forest of Death and sent giant tigers stampeding through the village, or so I've heard, and they nearly leveled a fourth of the Uchiha District with nothing but a few sparklers and firecrackers."

"Impressive," Pain said, and there was a ring of something genuine under the stoic monotone. "How many..." He paused, frowning a bit uncomfortably and glancing momentarily at Hinata, before shaking his head. "...ah, how many Uzumaki were there at the party?"

"Just her and her mom, as far as I know."

"Really? That seems a bit extreme, for so few."

"Mikoto-san was Sasuke's mother," Naruto said, as if this explained everything. "Putting those two in a room together was like throwing gasoline-soaked paper bombs on a fire, Pervy Sage tells me. And considering what Sasuke's like when he cuts loose, I can believe it. Heh, you should have seen his bachelor party..."

Pain quirked an eyebrow. He looked sidelong at Hinata, again, and almost fidgeted for a moment.

"You attended a bachelor party?" he said, clearly skeptical.

Naruto shrugged.

"I'm very mature for my age," he lied.

...Somewhat. It was a half-lie, really. Three quarters at the most. He could be relatively mature a lot of the time, but for his actual age? Not especially, no. For a man in his mid-to-late thirties, Naruto could honestly still be quite childish on occasion, especially when irked or excited.

And Pain gave the blond a blank look that seemed to say 'are you kidding me?', showing that he clearly didn't buy this claim either.

Then he twitched, and frowned again.

"Might I ask why you are projecting so much killing intent in my direction?" he slowly inquired, turning to face Hinata. "It is... distracting."

Hinata smiled, and Pain visibly flinched.

"My apologies," she said with a sugary sweet insincerity, radiating enough icy malice to freeze over Hell. "But the last time I saw someone with your eyes, they were trying to kill my beloved. You understand, I'm sure."

"Oh, I see," Pain said, managing to regain his composure even despite Hinata's formidable sakki. Then he blinked. "...wait, what?"

For the first time, D. P.'s expression broke completely from its stony façade. He showed actual human emotion on his face. An impressive feat, considering that this was basically and technically just a remote-controlled corpse.

(Elsewhere, Nagato did a spit take.)

Pain stared owlishly at Hinata.

"Others with the rinnegan?" he said incredulously. "I find that hard to believe."

Hinata's smile became even more perilously saccharine. She laughed demurely.

"It's more common than you'd think❤"

In a supply closet that had somehow escaped the general madness and destruction of the reunion thus far, Kakashi sneezed.

"Aw, jeez. You got it all over my chest," Anko tutted. "Gesundheit."

"Sorry," Kakashi sniffed. "I don't usually have that problem."

"Sure you don't," Anko said, slyly smirking. "And I bet you don't usually sneeze while doing it, either."

Kakashi blushed, but cleared his throat with dignity.

"You wound me, Anko."

Playfully she quipped, "I try."

Lying on a tiled floor in an undefinable space, Obito weakly struggled to stem the gouts of blood. Despite making it into the relative safety of his ocular pocket dimension, and despite the incredible vitality and regenerative abilities granted him by the First Hokage's cells, it seemed he wasn't quite out of the woods yet.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

Like a geyser, his exsanguination redoubled to a dangerously absurd level of force.

Where was all that blood even COMING from?

And why the hell was he seeing visions of a naked Anko? Even if the images were just a trick of his eye trying to make sense of the absolute blackness overhead, it was much more vivid than any mere optical illusion, seeming as real as the limitless void within his eye.

The subject of the hallucination was also strange, compared to his normal fantasies. Usually it was Rin, or maybe Kushina. Or Konan. Or one of his prettier cousins, on rare occasions. Or Deidara, before he'd learned the mad bomber's real gender. Or even Kakashi, that one time he tried not to think about.

But, Anko? No, never. Not even once.

So what the hell was all this?

"ACHOO!" he abruptly sneezed, spewing a gross mist of spittle, mucus, and blood into the air. Mostly blood, judging by how red it was.

Luckily, the nosebleed started to die down about then, and Obito felt grateful through the lightheaded wooziness. It trickled to a near complete stop, and he briefly rummaged for a blood replenishing pill, popping one into his mouth when he found the bottle.

He let out a sigh of relief, and started to turn his attention to crafting himself a couple replacement limbs.

Then Anko turned around.

His nostrils erupted once more with twin jets of scarlet, the expelled life fluid generating enough thrust to throw his head backwards into the floor—

CRACK!

—and knock him unconscious.

Back in Konoha, in the condemned old Uchiha district, two brothers simultaneously let out a mighty pair of sneezes. They nearly dropped the crate they were carrying, a large thing branded with FRAGILE and several harshly colored warning labels.

Behind them, a number of distant relatives ran riot through the district, uncaring of the massacre that had taken place there several years prior. A few Uzumaki were present as well, and... what was Lee doing all the way out here?

Aside from leveling any standing structure that happened to get in his way, that is.

Well, whatever the case, Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha shrugged and shifted the massive crate they were carrying. Sakura waved a pair of glowsticks to guide them through the dusky gloom.

Shouts and crashing noises sounded all around them.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Sasuke?" Itachi wondered idly.

"It's been years in coming," said Sasuke. "It would have come to light eventually, anyways."

"I'm fairly certain this isn't strictly legal, though," Itachi said. "Doesn't that worry you?"

"Does it worry you?" Sasuke replied.

Itachi smiled.

"No, not really," he admitted. "But I don't want you getting in trouble."

"It's an S-rank mission from the Lord Third Hokage," Sasuke said. "As long as we don't get caught, it's fine. And in this mayhem?" He gestured around them, to dilapidated old buildings collapsing in smoke and flame as Uzumaki and Uchiha alike spread through the district. "We won't get caught. I guarantee it."

"Fine, if you say so," Itachi said, shrugging. "Just making sure."

Somewhere in the afterlife, Madara sneezed and scattered his playing cards all over the table. He scowled.

"Dammit, why does that keep happening?"he muttered.

The Shinigami smirked in response and confidently laid his own hand on the table.

"Three of a kind," he said.

"Oh, that doesn't count!" Madara snapped.

The technically anthropomorphic personification of death simply gestured to the hoary old Uchiha's chips. A pair of rinnegan rolled in weary frustration.

"Cheating bastard," Madara muttered.

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black."

In response, Madara gave Death the finger.

Chapter Text

A week passed in the world of the living. People woke up in compromising positions all over the village. Hangovers abounded, and a good chunk of Konoha's infrastructure had been victimized by the rioting partiers. Many people were fined or incarcerated for crimes ranging from property damage to public drunkenness, to general indecency and disturbing the peace.

Despite this, when the time came for the final phase of the Chuunin Exams to be carried out, everything was back to normal or near enough, with only a few changes occurring over the clean up process.

Like Itachi being cleared of the charges of high treason and returned, on probation, to the ranks of loyal Leaf ninja. Or Tsunade, Jiraiya, and other assorted high ranking Konoha-nin being court ordered to attend psychiatric sessions and grief counseling.

Or Danzo being forced to attend classes on remedial ethics, history, and politics – the first taught by Naruto, the second by Sasuke, and the third by Hinata, all under henge.

That last one was especially effective, after a few day's progress.

But I digress.

Apart from the twin family reunions of the Uzumaki and... ahem, Uchiha, there was no event in Konoha this month which garnered more gossip, speculation, and "friendly wagers" than Phase Three of the Chuunin Exams. Authorities and personages ranging from horse doctors to feudal lords were in attendance, princes and paupers alike gathering from near and far to witness a rite of passage and peerless blood sport.

Chief among those assembled to witness these proceedings, the guests of honor whose votes would ultimately decide who advanced to chuunin and who did not, were the Yondaime Kazekage and Sandaime Hokage, Gold-Dust Rakshasa and God of Shinobi.

Rasa of Suna, and Hiruzen Sarutobi.

Also in attendance was a representative of Kusagakure's Jounin Council, but she was every bit as forgettably generic as Karin's teammates, except for a reasonably generous pair of... "eyes". And even that would only make her interesting to people who were interested in women in low-cut fishnet that showed off their very large, round, perky... "eyes".

So Hiruzen and Rasa, both heterosexual widowers who had each been single for over a decade, were naturally very interested in what she had to say... in the sense that neither one of them actually heard a single word out of her mouth.

She really did have very nice... "eyes".

Genma Shiranui was announcing. Hayate, Yugao, and his other peers, as well as a number of civilians and foreigners, watched from the stands.

The first match was Naruto Uzumaki versus Gaara. No surname needed.

"Of the Desert" was more than sufficient, and even that much wasn't really necessary. "Gaara" was unique enough. Both in the person who owned the name, and in the name itself. His parents came from a long line of eccentric baby-namers.

Naruto and Gaara walked into the arena. The latter eyed the former with a mixture of curiosity and something like fondness.

Both of them took their positions.

Briefly, Gaara thought of all the things Naruto had done for him. He'd never before met someone else who understood the struggles of being a jinchuuriki and outcast, and he was fascinated by the way Naruto had been able to overcome these hardships.

"I was just lucky enough to find people willing to acknowledge my existence for its own sake," Naruto had told him once over ramen, shortly after the end of the second phase. "That's all. As long as there's even one person who cares about you... I think it just becomes a matter of grinning and bearing it whenever things seem bad.

"Once you have bonds of friendship or family... or even rivalry... to anchor you, it gets a lot easier to go out into the world without fear of being swept away or swallowed up in some faceless mass of humanity.

"You just have to know where to look for those bonds."

He was strangely eloquent, that Naruto, despite his often coarse and informal mannerisms. Endearing, in that curiously charismatic way of his.

Gaara felt himself smiling as he faced off against Naruto.

Just a little.

"Shall we fight?"

In response, Naruto formed a ram seal. His chakra spiked. He was enveloped in a puff of smoke.

"Oiroke no Jutsu!"

Gaara didn't see a thing. His sand rose up before him in a solid wall, screening his opponent the instant Naruto performed his technique. It blocked his view completely. He was thus more than a little bemused by the highly vocal reactions of the audience.

Because from the stands there came a number of variously pleased, outraged, and disbelieving cries. Some leered at the buxom, naked blonde who appeared in Naruto's place. Others covered the eyes of their boyfriends, husbands, children, et cetera. Others still simply stared blankly, wondering if they'd somehow mixed up the Chuunin Exams with something else entirely.

Naruto, for his part, was in Sexy Jutsu form for all of three seconds before a fist of densely packed sand flew into his face. A suna rocket punch broke his nose and snapped his head back.

His henge dispelled in a puff of smoke.

Up with the other contestants, Sasuke shook his head exasperatedly.

"Dammit, Naruto..." he sighed. "Why do you always have to open with that stupid joke technique?"

"It has its uses," Hinata hummed.

"And it's a nice show, too," added Sakura with a snigger.

"It's ridiculous," he insisted, huffing dismissively.

"You're just upset because of that time he used Sexy Jutsu in that game of chicken, aren't you?"

Sasuke blushed fiercely.

"That didn't count, dammit!" he snapped.

"Whatever you say, dear," Sakura said with an insincere nod, giving him a knowing smirk.

He glared petulantly down into the arena.

"I'm surrounded by perverts."

"Oh, you know you love it."

For a second, Naruto staggered, a stream of blood flowing from his nostrils. The sand fist floated back, and it made a distinctly admonishing gesture before dissolving.

It looked like that blow had actually stunned Naruto, at least for a moment.

Then he laughed and popped his nose back into place.

"Ah. Your mom is the sheltering type, I see," he mused, wiping the blood from his lip.

"Hm?" said Gaara, who was completely oblivious to Naruto's opening tactics, and beginning to wonder when the fight proper was about to start.

"Never mind, nothing important," Naruto muttered. "Just a starting gambit. The first move is only ever a distraction, anyways."

Gaara blinked.

"Wait, what?"

His sand only barely had enough time to swerve behind him and block a flying tackle from Naruto, right as he said this. The redhead stiffened in surprise when he heard the impact, and he felt several grains of sand knocked loose.

"Oh," he said slowly, looking impressed. "I see... That was fast. I didn't even hear you move."

"That's because I didn't," came Naruto's voice from in front of Gaara. He was standing in place, grinning like the cat that got the canary.

He hadn't moved an inch.

The weight on Gaara's sand shifted, then, and Naruto's shadow clone spoke its piece.

"Bunshin Taitari... Daibakuha."

It was a very cool line to go out on, in the clone's opinion.

But Gaara didn't react.

After a moment's awkward silence, the kage bunshin sweatdropped.

"Er, y'know," it added, detecting that its statement hadn't elicited immediate comprehension. "Clone Tackle Great Explosion."

Gaara blinked.

He connected the dots.

"...oh."

BOOOOM!

A thunderclap shook the arena, rolling through the air as smoke, dust, and sand rose in a dense plume. The ground cracked and cratered, spiderweb fractures racing through rock and packed soil. There was silence as the smoke cleared.

Slowly, Gaara came once more into sight.

His sand had rushed to reinforce itself, forming a domed shield beneath Naruto's kage bunshin as it detonated. But the explosion had not been anticipated until the clone's chakra had already built to near critical mass, and even Karura's automatic defense had its limits.

"Cough, cough!" Gaara hacked into a clenched fist, the remains of his sand shield crumbling behind him. His hair stood on end, and he was covered from head to toe in soot.

The damage was superficial, purely cosmetic. Apart from his pride, Gaara wasn't wounded at all. But the fact that Naruto's attack had been able to get through his defenses at ALL, let alone so easily, still increased his respect for the blond by a couple more notches.

Then Naruto made a peace sign and gave a shit-eating grin.

And despite his respect for the other boy, Gaara twitched.

"Please don't provoke me," he muttered. "I'm trying to control my temper, but Shukaku is far less patient than I..."

"Yeah," Naruto said, "and your mom seems a bit pissy, too."

As fast as the earlier rocket punch, a hand of sand flew up and slapped Naruto on the cheek. His head snapped back.

Wincing, Naruto rubbed the palm mark on his face.

"...Yeah, okay, I deserved that one," he conceded.

Mildly perplexed, but still intending to give this fight his all, Gaara gestured and sent a wave of sand at Naruto. It crashed toward him and rose up, a living wall of silicate granules threatening to bury the blond alive.

"Your guard is wide open," said Gaara.

"Hm?" said Naruto, looking up as a shadow stretched over him. "Oh, right."

The sand crashed down with a thunderous noise, and it heaped up in a large mound. Like having a good sized sand dune dropped right on top of your head, it was.

Or so Naruto assumed, at least.

He was already several feet up in the air before the sand actually had a chance to engulf him, you see. Flipping end over end, the blond performed a graceful aerial tumble. He landed easily a few feet behind Gaara, putting on a bit of flourish to really sell the maneuver.

Not even turning around, with an almost absentminded flick of the wrist, Naruto then sent a half dozen shuriken whistling toward the back of Gaara's head. Obviously, a drift of sand snatched the darts out of the air before they could land, and Gaara languidly turned to face his opponent.

"My defense is fully automatic, if you haven't already guessed." He frowned. "It operates independently of my will or perception. You can't deceive it or catch it off guard."

Gaara swung his hand in an arc, and a fusillade of suna shuriken shot from the sand at his feet. A kunai appeared in Naruto's hand, and the blond spun, fluidly parrying the missiles. Sand throwing stars burst apart on cold iron, disintegrating into puffs of loose particulate.

Granules floated in the air for a moment, and Gaara had started curling his hand into a fist to follow up, before Naruto formed the seal of confrontation and let out a sharp "Hyah!". The loose sand scattered, preemptively blasted away before Gaara could reshape it or manipulate it in another way, such as he did with his suna shigure.

"Heh... That sounds like a challenge," Naruto belatedly said, grinning.

He cracked his knuckles, and it took Gaara a moment to realize that the blond no longer had a kunai in his hand. A second after that, he noticed said gardening tool turned multipurpose weapon protruding from a tendril of sand inches from his shoulder.

Gaara would have arched an eyebrow, if he had one.

"I can't tell if your technique is brilliant or sloppy," he commented. "But you won't penetrate my defenses fighting at this level."

"Yeah, probably not," Naruto agreed. "But I've already accomplished what I set out to do."

"...Huh?" Gaara stared uncomprehendingly at his opponent.

"Just wait a moment," Naruto said, looking like he was holding back the punchline to a killer joke.

Gaara blinked.

Wait. He could hear something.

Was that...

...chanting?

"...gya tei gya tei ha ra gya tei ha ra sou gya tei bo ji so wa ka."

The mound of sand behind him, the mound of sand he'd attempted to bury Naruto with earlier, suddenly exploded with a shrieking, booming, ringing sound.

...Or was the ringing just tinnitus?

Well it was very loud, either way, and shockingly abrupt.

Naruto gave the startled and perplexed Gaara a smarmy grin. "Wanna see something cool?" he asked.

Gaara blinked owlishly.

"...I'll take that as a yes," Naruto muttered sotto voce, sighing to himself. More loudly, seemingly half for the benefit of the audience, he added: "Then look behind you!"

Only half consciously, the redhead turned around to do as Naruto suggested.

...or as Naruto's shadow clone suggested, rather.

Because Gaara saw what had to be the original Naruto standing in a crater that had been a dune the last time he'd looked, bearing orange markings around his eyes, irises colored a striking golden yellow that was visible even from this distance, and pupils shaped like horizontal bars.

Like a goat's pupils.

Or a frog's.

Poof, Gaara heard the shadow clone dispel behind him.

"You... didn't dodge my attack?" he said, his brain taking a second to catch up to what he was seeing.

Naruto grinned.

"Bingo!" he said cheerfully. "It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I've tanked much worse." He cracked his knuckles. "...Now, though, how about I show off a bit? Sage chakra is kind of a tricky power to control, and I wanna make sure I get my money's worth..."

Up in the stands, Jiraiya started crowing victoriously and bragging to any female who bothered to listen about how Naruto had learned this technique from him.

Tsunade silenced the man with a death glare.

Despite the very good points the representative from Kusa had been making on the economic disparities between their villages and the inherent flaws of jiggle jiggle bouncy wiggle and her people's daily struggles with boingy boingy boing boing, Rasa somehow managed to tear himself away from those fascinating... "eyes" long enough to notice that his youngest son was fighting.

And he was almost drawn back into the hypnotically snug and sheer mesh of the Grass kunoichi's so-called blouse before his brain properly registered what he had just seen down in the arena.

Then Rasa did a double take, completely forgetting about the intelligent, capable, and independent Kusa elite's simply magnificent... "eyes" when he realized that Gaara was actually LOSING.

"Wha... what in the deepest rings of hell is this?" he gaped.

"Hm?" Hiruzen absently followed Rasa's line of sight.

He saw Naruto fighting Gaara, making a spectacle of completely trivializing the Suna jinchuuriki's absolute defense and formidable manipulation of sand. He recognized the markings around the youth's eyes, and identified the style he was using as similar to Jiraiya's frog kata.

"Oh, it looks like your son is losing," said Konoha's Sandaime. "My condolences, Rasa."

Suna's Yondaime stared disbelievingly. "What's going on down there?" he muttered. "Even my village's finest and most elite jounin would be hard pressed to survive a battle against Gaara, yet this boy is..."

"...a student of the Copy Ninja," Hiruzen promptly supplied. "Also recently a protégé of my own pupil, Jiraiya. And I'm sure you'll recongize that face, or at least the name Uzumaki."

Rasa balked.

"Holy shit," he muttered, realizing that he had almost tried to INVADE this village, and seeing the individual who would have been the lynchpin of the operation and Suna's secret weapon being completely dismantled by a bastard Uzumaki student of Kakashi Hatake and one of the Sannin. "Holy shit," he repeated, suddenly feeling immensely grateful for the anonymous tip off that had first convinced him to reconsider those plans.

Hiruzen smiled, giving off an unmistakeable air of smugness.

"This new generation shows a lot of promise, don't they?" he said, rubbing a bit of salt in the wound and calling it disinfectant.

Rasa nodded dumbly, letting out something almost like a whimper.

The Hidden Grass representative, for her part, was simply glad that these two were no longer staring at her tits.

They really weren't terribly subtle about it, for ninja of their supposed caliber.

It wasn't much longer before Gaara raised his hand and surrendered. Naruto had quite thoroughly shown his skill, repeatedly brushing aside his sand like it wasn't even there to give pointedly harmless taps on various vital points, dancing effortlessly in and out of the redhead's reach, and even shrugging off a sand coffin at one point.

It was a completely one sided exposition, though not mean-spirited on Naruto's part.

Gracefully, Shukaku's jinchuuriki accepted defeat. Shukaku himself was oddly quiet as he did this, with only a few short mutters of "damned sneaking foxes" floating around in the back of Gaara's head.

But whatever the case, Naruto shook Gaara's hand after their match, and they left the arena floor to rejoin their fellow competitors.

Funnily enough, the next fight – Shikamaru versus Temari – was the same match up as the first time around. And it went about the same as well.

Basically.

Not exactly the same, but close enough. It was, in spirit, the same as their fight in the original timeline. The tactics they used were different, at points, though employed towards similar ends.

Temari's perceptiveness and analytical prowess enabled her to dissect Shikamaru's jutsu and figure out its limitations, and she skirted the edges of his range. Shikamaru, in response, employed a variety of methods to extend his reach or trick Temari into coming within range. It was a lengthy and deeply involved battle of wits, ultimately concluded via patience and sheer attrition.

Like last time, Shikamaru eventually managed to catch Temari with his shadow (albeit through a different method), only to surrender at the last minute because his chakra was at its limit and he didn't have any way left to finish the fight in his favor.

Naturally this incensed Temari, frustrated Ino, and impressed the ones actually responsible for deciding who got to be promoted. And the last one would be much to Shikamaru's dismay, when they eventually handed him a flak vest and congratulated him on making the cut.

"How have things been going with your family, Hinata?" Sakura spoke up as the fight between Temari and Shikamaru began. She guessed it would take a while for the match to wrap up, and figured that now would be as good a time as ever for conversation. "I've been meaning to ask."

"Oh, they're improving," Hinata said. She gestured vaguely. "Father and Neji-niisan are still apprehensive around me, but they no longer jump or try to hide when they notice my presence. The others are much more at ease. Hanabi has been a darling, in particular."

"Really?" Sakura said. "I'd have thought that hooking up with Tenten would've helped take Neji's mind off of you... even if it still seems weird to think of those two as a couple. But Lee and Karin are practically a surefire thing by now, so I guess there's nothing for it."

"Oh, I don't know if I would call them a couple." Hinata giggled. "I think you may be overestimating Neji-niisan's confidence in such matters. He's actually quite shy about romance and related subjects. Even before, I faintly remember he was like that..."

She shrugged.

Sakura hummed thoughtfully, looking sidelong at Naruto and Sasuke. The former was chatting animatedly with Lee and Karin, who had gravitated together, while the latter lazily fended off Ino's flirtatious advances.

Poor girl thinks she still has a chance with him, Sakura mused ruefully, feeling sorry for her friend. I'll have to introduce her to Sai at some point once this is over... after I've made sure he's at a minimal level of social competence, at least.

Then the pinkette turned her attention back to Hinata, smirking, and gave a wry remark.

"So, nothing like you were, then."

Hinata laughed.

"Fair enough," she said. "I suppose that's simply a trapping of such traditional upbringings."

I suppose it's fortunate that Naruto and I chose to raise our own children in a more modern fashion, as it were.

Hinata didn't need to say this last bit out loud for Sakura to catch it. It could be seen on her face, in the slight tilt of her lips and smoothing of her brow, the way she stood and set her shoulders.

"We'll see them again soon," Sakura said, patting the other girl on the shoulder and giving her a confident and reassuring grin. "I'm sure of it."

Hinata smiled, quietly grateful for this.

"Shikamaru is doing quite well for himself," she said, changing the subject.

"No kidding, right?" said Sakura distractedly. "I mean, a wife like he's got... Well, that's the kind of woman a girl could go bi for."

"...I was referring to his fight, actually," Hinata said, her cheeks pinkening just a tad. "But yes, Temari-san is a very lovely woman."

Off to the side, Shino cocked his head curiously for a moment, overhearing the pair's comments.

After a few seconds of consideration, he concluded that they were sharing some manner of inside joke. The match ups had been announced a month ago, after all, and the girls in his age group sometimes seemed to have a slight obsession with matchmaking.

"No offense intended, of course," Sakura added offhandedly. "You're very pretty yourself, Hinata. But Temari... oh, she is a tiger."

"I think Ino might have a certain something like that as well," Hinata remarked, smiling indulgently and shaking her head in something like amused exasperation. "And Naruto's oiroke no jutsu too, of course."

Shino sweatdropped, listening to the continuation of this discussion.

Or maybe they were just perverts.

"Well, of course," Sakura said, nodding in agreement. "But that's still Naruto, when you get down to it, so it kind of defeats the point."

"Which is?"

"What girls you'd go consider going bi for, of course."

"Oh, so like in my book..." Hinata said.

"That's right, Miss Icha Icha Warudo." Sakura smirked. "Just like your book. Ecchi to Hentai no Monogatari, wasn't it?"

She winked.

Hinata laughed.

"Well, it's one thing to explore fantasies in the written form," Hinata said, smiling. "But by your logic, the only time I ever really experimented doesn't even count."

"Ohh? So what we shared meant nothing, eh?" Sakura winked.

"That's entirely different," Hinata said airily. "It was just for show."

"Maybe on your end," Sakura teased. "But as for me, I put it ALL in."

The pair of them broke down in vaguely perverted giggles.

Pinching the bridge of his nose to stem a sudden spurt of bleeding, Shino decided to find somewhere less dangerous to stand.

Like next to Naruto and Sasuke, who had apparently gravitated back together while Hinata and Sakura were talking, lost in their own little world.

"So, Sasuke," Naruto said, watching the proceedings in the arena. "Haku, Suigetsu, and me. Kill, marry, or fuck?"

Sasuke arched an eyebrow.

"All guys?" he drawled. "And you, too?"

"Last time we did it all girls, you refused to play."

"I did not refuse to play. I just refused to play by your rules."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "They're not my rules, they're THE rules. You can't choose to kill all of them."

"Then don't make a list comprised solely of my most insufferable former fangirls," Sasuke retorted.

"Bah, whatever," Naruto grunted. He waved a hand dismissively. "What's your answer? If it helps, you can pretend the me in question is using sexy jutsu."

"Sakura-type?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"That's easy, then," Sasuke said. "Kill Suigetsu, marry Haku, and fuck you."

"Really?" Naruto said. "Marry Haku?"

Sasuke shrugged.

"How about you?" he said.

"Man, that's no problem," Naruto said. "Fuck Haku, marry Suigetsu, and kill the other me because it would have to be either a shadow clone or an evil twin bent on world domination."

Sasuke hummed and nodded thoughtfully.

This was about the point when Shino contemplated giving up on humanity. And that disillusionment would last right up until his secret penpal from Taki sent him a picture of herself two and a half weeks later.

Fuu-chan was strikingly pretty, if also rather ambiguously boyish...

Meanwhile down in the arena, Genma belatedly announced the victor. It had taken him a moment to process Shikamaru's forfeit.

"Temari will proceed to the next round!" he declared.

The girl was reasonably pleased at this, despite the hollow feel of her victory... right up until she realized this meant that, in the next round, she'd be fighting the guy who had managed to defeat Gaara without breaking a sweat.

And then she briefly, desperately wondered if it wasn't possible to somehow override Shikamaru's forfeit with one of her own.

Sadly, Genma said that wasn't how it worked.

So she was screwed, and only just old enough to muse that it wasn't even in the fun way.

"Will Rock Lee and Hinata Hyuuga please come down?"

Itachi, seated awkwardly close to Hiashi and his family, watched the Hyuuga clan's heiress and Might Guy's disciple stroll down into the arena.

The raven-haired Uchiha fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable in his new flak vest. It seemed unutterably bizarre to think that he was once more properly a shinobi of Konoha, if technically on a probationary basis.

Sandaime-sama, it turned out, knew about the time travelers, and had heard the story straight from the horse's mouth. None other than Naruto Uzumaki had filled the Lord Hokage in. And Naruto had done this immediately after Sasuke told Itachi everything.

He had apparently only forestalled telling the Hokage for that long solely so that he, Itachi Uchiha, could be the first one to learn the truth.

That was awfully humbling, in a way Itachi could not quite explain.

But it seemed that, because of Naruto's words and actions, Lord Sarutobi had decided that Itachi would be more useful in the village. And the aftermath of the reunion, which became something like a riot and a rave in one, spilling out into the streets and causing more havoc and mayhem than an Aburame chef during a health inspection, had provided the perfect excuse for the Third Hokage to claim that new evidence regarding the Uchiha massacre had been uncovered – documents found in a theretofore "unknown" meeting place under a certain shrine in the old clan district, documents which detailed the Uchiha clan's plans to carry out a coup.

These documents had actually been stored in an undisclosed location known only to the Hokage and his advisors, having been covertly removed from the Naka shrine by Itachi himself immediately following the massacre, then redistributed into the ruins of the Uchiha district by the same and his brother during the chaos of the reunion.

But the public didn't need to know that.

All they had to know was that these documents "gave the Hokage reason to believe that Itachi Uchiha may have been acting on what he perceived as his duty as an ANBU captain", as the official declaration had gone, and that Hiruzen subsequently had Itachi "apprehended by hunter-nin" (picked up by his not-so-baby brother) and "brought before the Hokage and a jury of his peers to answer for his actions".

In actuality, it was a reverse kangaroo court hand-picked by the Sandaime to absolve Itachi of any extraordinary legal blame for the massacre beyond circumventing the chain of command and acting outside his authority in dealing with a potential threat, for which he was stripped of his ANBU rank and demoted back to chuunin.

A slap on the wrist so blatant that anyone with a hint of savvy would be able to guess at what it meant. But that was fine, so long as it didn't have to be outright confirmed that the village leadership had secretly ordered a thirteen year old boy to kill his own family.

Some things were just better left unsaid.

Hinata greeted Lee with a nod and a smile. He gave a terse if earnest half-bow in response, bending at the waist before snapping right back up and assuming a fighter's stance.

"Today is a good day to do battle," Lee said, smiling. "The sky is clear and boundless, as vibrantly blue as the spirit of Konoha's Green Beast."

A statement which really did not translate all that well into English.

His basic meaning got across just fine, though.

"It's a lovely day, indeed," Hinata agreed. "The sun shines down on all creation."

Fluidly, easily, she slipped into a jyuuken stance. Her palms were open, and veins swelled visibly outward from pale, pearlescent eyes. Even the eyes themselves bulged, in places, with a drastically increased flow of blood and chakra.

A civilian viewing an active byakugan up close would likely feel at least a hint of nausea at the subtly gruesome view. It looked unhealthy, even painful, like the eye was seconds away from messily exploding out of its owner's sockets.

Lee's only response to the sight was to smile a little wider.

"I am excited to trade blows with you, Hinata-san, I must admit," he confessed, still in the starting position. "A master of the gentle fist, a prodigy of whom even Neji is fearful and overawed... in a clan of elites and geniuses, you might just be the most outstanding of all."

He gave a thumbs up and smiled.

"I was able to best Neji in the second stage. Now, we shall see how I stack up against you."

"You flatter me, Lee-kun," Hinata said, softly shaking her head. "I am no genius. I have simply pushed myself to improve every day, little by little, until I could stand at the side of the one I admire. You, as well... I respect your determination, and your talent."

She lowered her stance, narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly.

"But I will not lose here."

And this statement opened the floodgates. Both competitors erupted into movement, blurring nearly out of sight from the perspective of the various untrained civilians and nobility, though most ninja were worth their salt could still follow them.

It was barely half the speed Lee had demonstrated against Neji in the second phase, although the more perceptive observers among those who had witnessed that fight would be quick to notice that Lee was still wearing his weights. Either way, it was an impressive showing for competitors so young.

Lee and Hinata exchanged deflected blows, dodging or blocking every maneuver their opponent pulled out, so far. Punch, parry, kick, duck. Roll and pounce, zig and zag.

After twenty seconds or so of this relentless taijutsu, both parties broke off and put on some distance.

"I notice you have only used the most basic forms so far, Hinata-san," Lee observed, still smiling. He breathed with marginally more effort than he had before the fight started, although he wasn't showing any signs of a sweat breaking out just yet.

"So have you," Hinata replied. "And you are holding back in other ways, as well... If you consider me stronger than Neji-niisan, then you should come at me with more speed and power than you used against him."

"I do not wish to end this fight so quickly," Lee said.

Hinata smiled. "My, you're very confident, Lee-kun... despite knowing that I'm also holding back."

"So it comes down to a matter of who is holding back more, does it not?" Lee said. "Strategy is all well and good, but without the skill and power to back a plan up, it will amount to nothing. Shikamaru-kun's match showed as much."

"Did it, now?" said Hinata. "I wonder about that."

Lee clenched a fist, grinning from ear to ear.

"Whatever the case," he said, "this fight will come down a clash of fists, and a youthful contest of strength. My blood BOILS in excitement!"

Then Lee stepped out of his weights.

That was the only practical, wieldy way to describe the fancy bit of footwork he used to get the things off his legs without bending over to manually undo them. Presumably, this was a trick Guy had taught him during the month of training.

And he wasn't finished yet, either.

"Show me the full limits of your strength, Hinata-san!" Lee shouted. "Hold nothing back, as I shall not hold back either!"

His chakra flared, the ground cracked. Veins bulged, and his skin turned a vivid red.

"Hrngh... Fifth Gate... Gate of Closing... open!"

An explosion of power emanated from his position.

Instantly, Rock Lee vanished, a considerable crater blown out from where he had just been standing.

Without missing a beat, Hinata turned and raised her hands.

Almost unceremoniously, outstretched fingers jabbed into Lee's body. He ran straight into her counterattack, and Hinata followed up with a quick and ruthlessly efficient combo of gentle fist strikes, halting the youth in place.

"Zesshou: Hachimon Hougeki," she said.

It was a technique Neji had developed to counter Lee's Hachimon Tonkou in another time.

The Inner Gates closed. Lee's skin paled, returning to its normal shade.

He collapsed bonelessly into the dirt, stunned and disabled.

"Wh-Wha...?" Lee stammered, struggling to process the sheer abruptness of this turnaround.

"My apologies, Lee-kun," Hinata said, respectfully bowing to her defeated opponent. "You asked me to fight you seriously, but this was the most I could do without risking serious injury to your person. I'm sorry."

Lee stared at Hinata for a long moment.

Then he laughed.

"Ah, I cannot begrudge defeat at the hands of such an honest foe!" he remarked. "Very well. I accept this loss."

Hinata smiled, even as a gobsmacked Genma stopped gaping long enough to shake his head and announce the fight's outcome.

"Would you like any help leaving the arena?" she inquired.

Lee smiled, lying motionless on the ground, unable to so much as lift a finger.

"That would be much appreciated, yes."

"Kyaaa! Hinata-oneesama!" squealed Hanabi, unable to help but jump and cheer for joy over her sister's resounding victory. "So coool!"

Normally, Hiashi would have gently but firmly reprimanded his daughter for behaving in such an unseemly manner, but he was presently too busy trying to decide whether he felt more proud or terrified of Hinata.

On one hand, the girl had been a perfect angel for nearly half a year. She had given no further signs of instability or resentment. If anything, she seemed more well ajusted now than ever. But on the other hand, he could still remember the aftermath of the massacre, and seeing firsthand how easily his daughter took down an opponent who was supposedly capable of utterly crushing Neji...

...well, naturally he felt a bit of apprehension.

And Neji, sitting next to his teammate Tenten, sighed wearily.

"Wow," said Tenten, giving a low whistle. "Hinata is something else, isn't she? No wonder I couldn't beat her."

"She is terrifying," Neji murmured with complete sincerity.

Oh, sure, Hinata had been perfectly nice and sweet and never raised her voice or made any move to strike him, but Neji had spent the last decade living in paranoid fear and resentment of the main house. He was sure that the instant he lowered his guard, she'd snap and murder him for looking at her funny.

And that would be the end of it.

But then Tenten giggled, interrupting Neji's rumination.

"Seriously?" she said, looking at her teammate amusedly. "I know she's strong, but terrifying? Hinata's the sweetest little thing I've ever seen. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

Neji twitched.

"You haven't seen everything," he grumbled.

"Maybe," said Tenten, "but I've seen enough to know that Hinata loves her cousin like a brother."

She elbowed Neji in the ribs, grinning in that annoyingly smug and knowing way of hers.

Neji felt his cheeks grow warm.

And Itachi shifted awkwardly in his seat, overhearing all this.

Karin ran up to Lee and took him off of Hinata's back. Curtly, and testily, she thanked the Hyuuga for her help, before carrying her boyfriend off to the side.

"Bite me," she told him bluntly, determinedly.

His head was in her lap. Despite his usual impulsiveness and exuberance, Lee simply stared at Karin for a moment before blushing.

He hesitated.

"Ah... Right here...? Right now?" he asked her, uncertain.

A beat.

Karin blushed in turn, realizing how her request had sounded.

"N-N-Not like that, you knucklehead!" she snapped, flustered. "I mean... here, just bite my finger. I can give you some of my chakra that way. It'll heal you, at least a little..."

Lee's blush deepened.

"Oh," he said. "So, it is not like you want me to..."

He trailed off, visibly embarrassed.

Clearly, despite his serious and earnest demeanor, Lee was not entirely immune to drifting down the gutter. It was not a sign of perversion, perhaps, so much as simply an indicator of healthy hormone levels for a youth his age. He was fourteen going on fifteen, after all.

Karin herself was thirteen going on fourteen. Girls reached physical maturity a bit sooner than boys, so she and Lee were at very roughly comparable stages of development. Aside from that, she was also a bit of a good old fashioned pervert, if still a little more innocent than not.

So she blushed as well, at the implications of Lee's mistaken inference, and nervously coughed into her fist.

"Er, right," she said. "I just want to heal you. No perverted ulterior motives here."

Weakly, Lee nodded. He afforded his unlikely girlfriend an apologetic smile, and opened his mouth.

Karin gulped and offered him her finger.

Gingerly, he bit it.

"Ahhhhn!❤" Karin moaned, sounding terribly indecent. Lee started audibly sucking her digit. In response Karin arched her back, blushing, eyes squeezing shut; her slender frame was wracked with shudders. "Ohh, Lee...❤"

Most of the other competitors were conspicuously trying not to stare.

Cough, cough.

Very awkward.

"You look good, Ino."

Those words came from Sakura, the blonde's opponent, as they headed down into the arena.

Miss Yamanaka tried to take this compliment at face value, in as platonic and inoffensive a sense as she could imagine. Her mind threatened to run away from her, though, particularly as memories from the first stage of the exams resurfaced.

Sakura was a surprisingly good artist.

If she focused on that aspect, Ino reasoned, thinking purely of the composition and quality of the sketch, then maybe she could trick herself into forgetting the subject matter. Hell, even as long as she focused more on the remembered depiction of what could only be an adult Sasuke behind that similarly adult Sakura, it would probably be okay.

Just so long as she willfully ignored the fact that the sketched Sakura had also been doing some very NC-17 things to a similarly drawn adult Ino. And just so long as she ignored the twinkle in her longtime rival's eye...

"So do you, Sakura," Ino said in a tensely diplomatic sort of way. She saw the light of the arena entrance growing larger as they approached. It was not much longer now before they were out in the open. Before it was time to fight.

Sakura smiled. Her lips didn't actually part, but still the grin felt unnervingly like it was all teeth. Uncomfortably predatory.

She's just trying to psyche me out, Ino told herself, suppressing a shudder. Calm down, girl. It's not like she's actually...

"I like that skirt on you," Sakura continued. "It's nice. Very short."

She looked downward in a manner that left Ino feeling dirty, and not at all confusedly giddy. No, not one bit, she would assure you!

Ino gulped as they stepped out into the arena.

"Well," the blonde said. "That's, um, nice."

"Very nice," Sakura purred. Emerald eyes gleamed in a way that screamed DANGER! DANGER! in the back of Ino's mind.

Anxiously, the Yamanaka heiress hurried to the starting position.

"Mm. Can I have some fries with that shake?"

Ino whimpered and spun around.

Sasuke sighed, watching his wife/girlfriend/teammate tease her opponent down in the arena. His sharingan was active, and he could read her lips perfectly well.

"That woman..." He sighed. "Damn you and those Icha Icha novels for corrupting her," he muttered, glaring askance at Naruto and Hinata.

"She was corrupt from day one," Naruto replied. "We just weren't savvy enough to see it back then."

"I'm sure our writing didn't awaken anything that hadn't already been present in her subconscious," Hinata added.

It was generally accepted, within certain literary fan circles, that Chi-Kyuu was the Seventh Hokage's nom de plume, used when he wrote for the Icha Icha series. Much less known was the fact that this pen name was actually an umbrella pseudonym for both Naruto and his wife.

Pretty much only their closest acquaintances knew this much.

Sasuke scowled, huffing irritably.

He really was surrounded by perverts.

"Magen: Sayuri Ryoran no Jutsu," Sakura intoned, weaving her hands together the instant Genma told them to start."Sakura to Akizakura no Mai."

Before she could even react, Ino found herself enveloped in a swirl of illusory cosmos and cherry blossom petals. A soothing fragrance filled her nostrils, a sweet floral perfume that caused the tension to melt from her frame like butter on toast.

On an intellectual level, Ino realized this was a genjutsu. She could have told as much just from hearing the name of the technique.

Demonic Illusion: Art of Profusely Blooming Lilies, Dance of the Cherry and Cosmos.

It was a real mouthful of a name, and honestly a bit pretentious-sounding. But genjutsu was genjutsu, and she should probably break out of it before anything too weird could happen.

Try not to think about the implications of that name, she told herself.

She wove her hands together in a basic seal.

"Release!" Ino shouted, fluctuating her chakra even as the scenery around her became more idyllic, a flowering meadow on a sunny day, tall grass and colorful blossoms amidst which frolicked and cavorted many laughing...

...naked...

...oh, dear.

Ino felt like her face didn't know whether it wanted to pale or redden. After a few seconds, it settled for going a color that matched her outfit a little too well. Weakly, she again tried to scramble her chakra and dispel the illusion.

It didn't cause more than a slight hiccup in her surroundings. Like a reel of film skipping a frame or two.

She swallowed, staring at a meadow filled with lookalikes of herself and Sakura ranging in apparent age from her present thirteen to full grown adults. All very attractive, very naked, and very much enjoying themselves.

Whimpering, Ino tried again to dispel the illusion.

"Release!" she grunted, gritting her teeth.

One of the Sakura lookalikes, one that was her age, smiled at Ino and started to walk closer. She walked far too confidently for someone that scrawny, and yet Ino found herself staring and blushing undeniably in spite of herself.

The genjutsu Sakura winked at her. Blew a kiss.

A shiver raced up Ino's spine, and she decided for the sake of her own sanity to interpret it as disgust rather than anything else.

"Release!" she squeaked. "Dispel! Kai!"

Sakura was inches away. Fingers brushed the back of Ino's hand.

"Yeeek!" she squealed. "Let me OUT of here!"

Sakura smiled at Ino. Her face came closer...

Chu.

...and suddenly Ino didn't care anymore.

Back in real time, Sakura watched her frozen opponent standing motionless under the spell of her genjutsu. Ino's cheeks was growing increasingly red. Almost crimson.

Sakura smiled at Ino, counting down on her fingers.

3... 2... 1...

Blood erupted from Ino's nostrils, and the blonde collapsed on her back. There was a dreamy expression on her face.

She was out like a light.

"Genma-san?" Sakura prompted, turning to the referee.

The man blinked, realizing that the fight was over.

Well, that was quick.

Genjutsu battles were some of the most gripping and surreal kinds of shinobi combat out there, a thrilling struggle of wills and cunning where the world was warped and bent and reimagined in strange and horrifying ways ... for the participants.

But from an onlooker's perspective they tended to be dreadfully boring, with combatants standing stock still for minutes at a time and not seeming to do anything.

"Oh, right," Genma said. "Ino is unable to fight, so... er, the winner is Sakura!"

There was only a light smattering of polite applause from the shinobi in the audience. No civilians joined in.

Sakura grinned smugly, regardless, and took a bow.

"I wonder what kind of genjutsu that was," Kurenai hummed to herself.

She was seated next to Asuma in way that TOTALLY wasn't suggestive of the two of them dating or banging or sharing any kind of relationship aside from a perfectly professional cordialty between old comrades. They insisted.

(Of course, this wasn't fooling anyone.)

"I'm not sure I want to know," Asuma said, sweatdropping. "Considering what I know of Ino, and how she reacted to it... well, I'm really sure I don't want to know."

"Oh, they're only kids," Kurenai chuckled. "How perverted could it possibly be?"

"Do you remember what we were like at that age?" Asuma deadpanned.

Kurenai thought for a moment.

"I know you and the boys were all horny little perverts," she said with a facetious seriousness. "But me and my fellow girls were perfectly pure and chaste angels."

This elicited a snort from Asuma. He laughed.

"Hah! That's a good one."

"My wife is a goddamn pervert," Sasuke miserably sighed, his fist pressed against Naruto's.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Naruto laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "What, you never enjoyed a little something-something in the bedroom? I know Sarada sure as hell didn't pop out of thin air."

Sasuke shot Naruto a withering glare. The blond twitched.

"Well, she didn't. Right?"

"I refuse to comment."

Naruto rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. You're up next, you know. Against Karin, too." He gave his teammate a look, smirking. "Try not to get too touchy feely, alright?"

"Goddammit, Naruto. How many times do I have to tell you she wasn't my mistress?"

"Until it stops being funny."

Sasuke gave Naruto the finger.

Karin stared off against Sasuke in the arena, her expression one of determination. She was tense, coiled like a spring, and ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Dark red eyes were smouldering like coals, and she clenched and unclenched her fists.

Sasuke mimed a yawn.

"You know the rules," Genma said, nodding to the two competitors. "Just try not to kill each other too hard, okay?"

Karin glared daggers at Sasuke, and she nodded tersely.

"I make no promises," she growled.

"Does it even need to be said by this point?" Sasuke wondered, sniffing dismissively. "Lethal force won't be necessary in this fight."

Karin's glare intensified. Genma gave her a wary look and stepped back.

"If you say so..." the jounin muttered. Collecting himself, he swung a hand down. "Begin!"

A kunai appeared in Karin's hand the instant Genma signaled for the match to start, and she darted at Sasuke with frankly impressive speed for a ninja whose most valued assets had always been intelligence and support skills.

There was something of a rabid alley cat in the ferocity of her movements. She was quick and relentless, swiping viciously at her foe. Sasuke was mildly bemused by the sheer violence of her onslaught, even as he nimbly dodged and sidestepped her slashing strokes.

His irises were black, sharingan presently inactive.

He didn't need his doujutsu to keep up with an assault of this level. Impressive as it was for what he knew of Karin, he was still easily the second strongest human in myth or history.

Did it even need to be said? Sasuke had surpassed the Sage of Six Paths at the age of seventeen. Even if this had only been temporary at the time – merely a product of hijacking the bijuu and using their chakra to supercharge his jutsu – he had eventually managed to reach that level again.

Only legitimately this time, through hard work and training.

Sasuke's ability dwarfed even that of his most powerful ancestors, Indra and Madara, and in terms of straight up combat Karin was merely average. For a genin. She would have had to be at least as powerful as Kaguya to stand any serious chance of beating Sasuke.

Needless to say, Karin... didn't stand a chance.

"Adamantine Sealing Chains!"

...or at least, she shouldn't have.

But Naruto had apparently been giving the girl some pointers from his mother's book, so to speak. Sasuke had been focused on dodging the blade more than pride would permit him to say, and Karin had actually managed to blindside him with her kongou fuusa.

Sasuke grimaced, feeling the Uzumaki chakra chains wrap around his form. It was a thoroughly unpleasant sensation, and not just because it suppressed his chakra far more than he was comfortable with. His arm was strapped down to his side, unable to move.

"Well this is inconvenient," he muttered.

Sasuke looked at Karin. Her face was red, and sweat beaded down her brow. She was panting a bit, clearly having exerted herself a good deal to manifest these chains.

Then she moved forward and went behind him, tightening her grip.

She raised a kunai to his throat.

"I'd call it a lot more than that, if I were in your position," she said. "You might as well surrender now. I don't want to hurt you."

"It is a very snug fit." Sasuke hummed. "But are you sure you don't want to hurt me? You seemed pretty eager a minute ago."

He wiggled the stump of his left arm, which protruded awkwardly from the binding chains.

Karin pressed the blade a little closer.

"Just shut up and surrender," she growled.

Up with the other competitors, Karin's teammate rubbed his eyes. He stifled a yawn, looking rather sluggish as he watched his teammate's fight. Idly, he scratched his wrist, brushing off a tiny insect.

"She's gonna win," he said.

"Go, Karin-san!" Lee cheered. "You can win!"

"She already has it in the bag," Temari drawled. She gave Lee a pointed look. "And shouldn't you be back with your friends? Somewhere else? Anywhere other than here."

Lee smiled obliviously.

Sakura chuckled, a little ways away, resting her elbows on the railing.

"They're underestimating him," she observed. "That's disappointing."

Hinata smiled at Naruto, nodding in response to this remark. He inclined his head, in turn, and gave a toothy grin.

"He's annoyed with himself," the blond commented. "Ticked off that he got caught in a trick like that. I think he's about to pull out a few of the stops."

"No, I don't think I will surrender."

Sasuke said this blandly, tonelessly. His sharinnegan activated, progressing to its highest level.

Not that his opponent could see this.

"What?" Karin said, bemused. She scowled and pressed the knife closer to his throat. It traced a thin white line below his adam's apple. "Do you think this is just an empty threat? Don't try me, Uchiha. These are life or death fights until the referee intervenes. Anything goes."

"It's not a matter of intent, honestly," Sasuke said, shrugging. "Simply capability."

He waved a hand airily.

Karin took a moment to register this gesture, mostly because she knew his arm was restrained at his side. He couldn't go around waving his hand with it pinioned to his waist.

In the second it took her to process the impossibility of what she had just seen, Sasuke grabbed the kunai with his bare hand and wrenched it away from his throat. Effortlessly, he twisted the knife around and held it to Karin's throat, easily tearing it out of her grip.

Using his left hand.

The left hand he shouldn't have had.

"You know... everyone always asks me why I never bothered to have my arm reattached, or get a prosthetic," Sasuke said in an almost conversational tone, somehow managing to seem both nonchalant and threatening despite the fact that he was bound in chains of chakra. "Usually, I tell them it's for sentimental, philosophical, symbolic reasons. And, while that it is certainly true..."

He grinned.

Karin could hear the smile in his tone, even if she couldn't actually see his face.

"...it also comes in handy at times like this."

Another hand grabbed Karin, an arm wrapping around her.

But Sasuke's right arm was still bound at his side, and he shouldn't even have a left arm...

So what the fuck was going on?

"Asura Path," Sasuke said, as though answering the unspoken question. "Shuradou. It's one of my more interesting powers. Quite handy for getting the drop on enemies."

Belatedly, Karin realized that the hand holding the kunai to her throat was attached to an arm where there should have been only a stump, and the arm grappling her was protruding from the top of Sasuke's right shoulder. Above the actual arm.

Then her chains started to dissolve. Within seconds, they were gone.

"Huh," Sasuke said. "So that counts as ninjutsu, eh? Well, that's handy." He shook his head and laughed, once. "Ah, Preta Path..." he sighed wistfully. "What would I do without it?"

He let go of Karin. The arm coming from his shoulder receded in a way that was subtly grotesque.

She felt the urge to vomit at the sight.

"Deva Path," Sasuke said, next. "Shinra Tensei."

And suddenly Karin was flying through the air, wind tearing at her clothes. Her eyes went wide as Sasuke's form shrank away, right up until the point where she smacked—

THUD

—into the arena wall.

She didn't break anything, or at least it didn't feel like she did, but maybe that was just the adrenaline numbing her senses.

Limply, she slid down to the ground.

Feeling stunned and a little nauseous, Karin watched Sasuke slowly turn to face her. He had to be at least ten, fifteen meters away.

Until he wasn't.

She looked up, and saw him standing over her.

That was too sudden for a body flicker, some remote and analytical part of her mind whispered. Sasuke hadn't moved a muscle.

Unconsciously, Karin activated her Mind's Eye Kagura.

She sensed Sasuke's chakra.

Both what was on the surface... and what was under that.

"I surrender!" she immediately squeaked, her eyes going as wide as dinner plates. Half fear, half disbelief, all desire to get as far away from a fight with this guy as quickly as she possibly could.

Sasuke nodded, and his left arm receded back into a stump.

"You made an impressive showing," he told her. "Very few people could have put me in a tight spot like that."

Despite her brief panic attack, Karin assumed that he meant very few people their age.

Sasuke, of course, meant very few people period.

But she didn't need to know that.

"The winner is Sasuke Uchiha!" Genma announced.

"Are you okay, Karin?" Lee welcomed his girlfriend back into the waiting area, anxiously taking her hand. "Does it hurt anywhere? Do you need a medic?"

Karin smiled at this concern.

Some might have found such worry stifling, but she thought it was sweet, especially given Lee's usual mindset. He acted so gung ho and hotblooded most of the time that it was easy to forget about the polite and earnest young man that lay underneath the ridiculously intense training and constant shouting about youth, love, and perseverance.

Lee was honestly a very serious, innocent kind of boy. He wore his heart on his sleeves, and was a strong believer in chivalry.

Karin just hoped he wouldn't try to beat up Sasuke in retaliation for her defeat. While she had immense faith in her boyfriend's skill, and could have appreciated the gesture, there were some real monsters out there.

"I'm fine," she told him. "The only thing I really hurt was my pride. No need to go avenging me, Lee-kun."

He blushed.

Ah, how transparent that boy was. Rock Lee was like an open book: a children's book with big letters, small words, and plenty of colorful pictures. Pretty much anyone with a hint of perception could read the guy. Maybe that was part of the reason she liked him.

Lee was straightforward, uncomplicated. Simple. And Karin meant this in the nicest possible sense.

Smiling, she gave him a hug.

"After all," she added, "I don't think you'd want to see me getting into a fight with Hinata to avenge your defeat, would you?"

Lee's blush deepened. Inexplicably, images of the two girls wrestling in a manner quite contrary to any shinobi discipline flashed through his mind. He perceived faint concepts of torn clothes, heavy breathing, and red and sweaty skin.

Unprofessional, undisciplined, wildly indecent. That was how he imagined them settling their score, for some bizarre and alien reason buried deep in his mammalian subconscious.

The thought did not displease him, strangely.

"You are right," he lied. "I would not."

After this came Shino's match.

It was very short, nothing really worth mentioning. Mainly because Shino had planted some kikaichu on his opponent when the third phase began, and the guy was thus nearly drained of chakra by the time their fight started.

The observers in the Kage Box took note of this and chose to allow it. No rules had actually been outlined to ban sabotage, after all, and it was appropriately underhanded for a ninja.

Underneath the underneath, and all that.

Thus went round one of the final stage of the Chuunin Exams.

Next up?

Naruto versus Temari. Hinata versus Sakura. Sasuke versus Shino.

One of those fights was sure to be impressive.

...Probably.

OMAKE:

what if...

"Gaara?"

"Yes, Naruto?"

"Can you let Shukaku out to play?"

"...what."

"Kurama wants to fight him. Says he'll beat some sense into the guy for you."

Gaara stared at Naruto. He blinked owlishly.

"...you know what," he said. "Sure. I don't even know why I bother trying to make sense of you."

Rasa was too busy staring at the Kusa representative's massive, scantily clad... "eyes" to notice Gaara using the spiritual medium technique. Not until it was too late for him to stop it, and Shukaku had finished transforming.

Naturally, a lot of people sort of lost their shit when they realized that a bijuu was now loose in the arena. The Kyuubi appearing in a puff of smoke seconds later certainly didn't help matters.

The ensuing fight was very epic, but not especially funny aside from some audience reaction shots. Basically just a bijuu-sized Therapy Jutsu.

Which is why we didn't go that route.

Chapter Text

"So, all three of your students have progressed to the second round. Well done, Kakashi."

Might Guy gave his eternal rival a grudging show of respect... from his point of view. To anyone else, it would have looked like his usual Nice Guy Pose™.

It was the thought that counted, though.

"It's a shame about Lee's loss," Kakashi said. "I understand he was your favorite."

"Favorite?" Guy laughed. "Please, Kakashi! No decent teacher would ever play favorites. I love all three of my pupils equally!"

"Really?" Kakashi gave Guy a disbelieving look. "Because that's not how it looks from my perspective. Or literally anyone else's."

"What do you mean?" Guy asked, giving him a genuinely baffled look. "I simply give Lee the most help because he's the one who most needs that help."

This time, he actually DID perform his Nice Guy Pose™.

Kakashi sweatdropped.

"Well, at least I know that I don't play favorites..." he muttered.

(In an estranged timeline roughly twenty-five years ahead of this one, the Sixth Hokage sneezed.)

Temari gulped a tad anxiously as she stepped down into the arena, facing off against her opponent. She did a good job of obfuscating her nerves with a show of mildly contemptuous disinterest, but those who knew her well would be able to see right through.

Everyone had their tells, whether they knew it or not. Naruto knew Temari's as well as anyone short of her brothers and husband.

Not that she knew that he knew.

But even if Naruto hadn't had a fairly close acquaintanceship with Temari's future self, what with the woman being the wife of his advisor and right hand man, he still had his empathic abilities which derived either from some aspect of his Uzumaki ancestry, his mastery of Kurama's chakra, or both or neither.

It was a little ambiguous, depending on who you asked.

Still, Naruto could tell that Temari was more than a little tense as she took her place across from him in the arena. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was at least a little scared of him, after his defeat of Gaara.

To him that seemed a little silly, but people were weird like that.

So, Naruto decided to break the ice with the best method he knew.

Step 1.: Create a shit-ton of shadow clones.
Step 2.: Have those clones perform a mass transformation.
Step 3.: ? ? ?
Step 4.: Profit.

"Reverse Harem Jutsu: Shikamaru Style!"

Temari's first reaction was to stare blankly as a dozen-plus shadow clones transformed in puffs of white smoke before her eyes.

Was this a joke? She misheard that, right?

Yes, she had to have. No one in their right mind would seriously give their jutsu such a ridiculous name... unless you counted the oiroke no jutsu this kid had used against Gaara in the first round, of course.

But,really. How many variations could one guy POSSIBLY have on a single technique?

Temari got the answer to her question as soon as the smoke cleared.

"Hey, babe. Want some sugar?" came the voice of her previous opponent in stereo. Lookalikes of Shikamaru Nara winked at her and struck poses they presumably thought of as cool or seductive, rather thin wisps of smoke the only thing covering their shame.

Well, she thought. At least two, apparently.

One of the not-Shikamarus blew her a kiss. Temari shuddered.

Possibly more.

Up with the other disqualified competitors, the REAL Shikamaru sighed.

"What a drag," he grumbled.

Hinata and Sakura shared a smile and a laugh, amused as much by Shikamaru's prototypically him response as by Naruto's choice of jutsu.

Sasuke, on the other hand, facepalmed.

Lee, for his part, was largely nonplussed. Karin was simply trying not to imagine a Rock Lee-version of that jutsu. Gaara's sand had once more sprung up to block his view.

And Shino furrowed his brow in mild consternation.

"...that boy has a real obsession with his Sexy Jutsu, doesn't he?" Tsunade said, shaking her head bemusedly.

Jiraiya was listless and despondent in his seat next to her.

"I have no godson," he said in a dreary monotone.

Tsunade snorted and gave him a punch on the shoulder, half friendly and half irritated.

"Oh, get over yourself."

Haruna, the Hidden Grass Representative with a name as bland and generic as everything else about her village, cocked an eyebrow.

"That's an interesting jutsu," she said. "How many variations does he have, I wonder?"

"Who cares?" Rasa said flippantly, still a little peevish over Gaara's earlier loss.

"I find his regular Sexy Jutsu to be more agreeable, personally," said Hiruzen as loftily as he could manage.

Haruna smiled. "Yes, that was a very interesting transformation as well."

She hummed in what might have been appreciative recollection.

The Hokage and Kazekage promptly developed matching nosebleeds as their imaginations ran away from them.

Back down in the arena, Temari twitched. She closed her eyes for a moment, thanking her lucky stars for the smoke covering the private places of these henge.

Then her eyes snapped back open, and she let out a low, dangerous growl. "You... damn... PERVERT...!"

Fluidly, menacingly, she drew her war fan and unfolded it to reveal all three moons.

Kamaitachi no Jutsu!

With a lone swing, Temari kicked up a terrible windstorm. In her fury she exerted more power, if less control, making several of the trees in the arena rock and sway from the force of the shrieking gust, despite failing to hone the gale into a proper flurry of keen edges.

Like exchanging a sickle-and-chain for a meteor hammer, she smote the battlefield with sheer blunt force. Dust devils cavorted at the feet of the naked Shikamaru harem, dirt and particulate specks of matter picked up and tossed in a crashing, twisting torrent.

Temari glared daggers, her chest heaving a touch more laboriously in its accustomed respiration than it ought to have. Glinting on a dusky brow, a single bead of sweat trickled down into her eye.

She winced and blinked it away.

Perhaps pouring so much of her chakra into that attack hadn't been the best idea. She should not have been breathing this heavily already.

Maybe she'd spent more stamina in that first round than she thought.

Blinking three more times in quick succession, Temari raised her eyes to assess the damage as the dust finally cleared.

Said eyes than widened to their furthest limit, so much so that it took a conscious strain of effort to hold the lids apart. Temari gaped and nearly dropped her fan. Blood rushed to her face so quickly, and in such a quantity, that for a moment she fancied that either her cheeks would combust or her legs would buckle.

Naruto's Shikamaru-henge'd clones were still there, if a bit dusty. Only one significant change, it seemed, had occurred from Temari's wind scythe assault.

The smoke was gone.

An uproar burst from the audience.

SMACK!

An irate Ino socked Shikamaru in the jaw.

"Gah! You exhibitionist!" she raged, lashing out at the nearest available target in annoyance.

Shikamaru winced and rubbed his cheek.

"What'd I do?" he whined.

Ino reddened and punched him again, striking with more frustration than force.

"It's the principle of the matter, dammit! I don't want to look at your naked...! Grah!" She flailed inarticulately, grasping for some kind of actual words to use.

Shikamaru sighed and rested his chin on his hands.

"Ugh, whatever."

"That's a lot bigger than I would have expected from your friend."

Karui said this to Chouji, the two of them seated in the audience. Her teammates sat on either side of them – Samui next to Karui, Omoi next to Chouji. Bee was at the end, seated right next to the aisle.

Omoi squirmed in his seat, looking self conscious. It didn't take a psychic to figure out what had him so antsy.

Samui had her eyes closed with her temples visibly bulging. It looked like she was counting back and forth between one and ten.

Bee was perfectly nonchalant, like this was the kind of thing that happened every day.

Chouji hummed and looked down into the arena. He squinted.

"Nah, Naruto's just embellishing."

Karui gave him a look.

"And how would you know that?" she asked. "Not that there's anything wrong with knowing it."

Chouji shrugged. "Me and Shikamaru have been friends for years," he said by way of explanation.

The Kumo quartet decided to take his word for it.

"... ... ..."

Temari could see everything.

Everything.

Silently, slowly, her expression perfectly blank, the blonde raised one hand. Without flinching for even an instant, she bit through the calloused pad of her thumb and drew a trickle of red blood.

"Kuchiyose..." Temari whispered lowly.

With a single mechanical swipe of her hand, she smeared that blood over the three purple moons adorning her fan. This, and a bit of chakra, was sufficient to summon her rarely-seen familiar, Kamatari.

White, small, and furry, the weasel clutched a scythe as large as his body. A handful of other phantasmal scythes floated around him, wreathed in a glow of chakra.

"I'll cut ya," said the weasel in an incongruously gruff voice.

The wind mistress raised her fan.

She seemed perfectly serene, with the exception of her eyes. Those glared daggers sharper and more perilous than any sickle she could summon, piercing through the shamelessly naked forms of the Shikamaru lookalikes.

With a slow, steady exhale, she swung.

"KIRIKIRI MAI!"

It was a devastating attack.

This was a jutsu capable of leveling entire swathes of forest at a point in time when most of Temari's peers would be lucky to knock down more than one or two trees in a single go, a standard of measurement that Naruto had once joked would make the First Hokage cry, even if it was remarkably effective.

The Shikamaru doppelgängers were ripped to shreds before they could blink, and they burst into smoke almost instantly. Shrieking, slashing winds tore at the battlefield around Temari, gouging the earth and felling most of the trees in the arena. Paul Bunyan would have been proud.

After a deafening few seconds of absolute hell, the jutsu wound down, speinding ts momentum. The air stilled once more, save for a light breeze that brushed over some of the fallen branches, rustling leaves.

It took Temari a moment to notice something off about this scene.

She looked around, frowning curiously.

Naruto was nowhere to be seen.

What?

Where the hell could he have gone? She didn't slice him to ribbons, did she?

An instant after thinking this, Temari felt an abrupt and distinctive sensation in her gut. Her insides seemed to float, suddenly, as though bereft for a moment of any hindering, burdening substance.

It was a feeling she recognized, if only somewhat. It was the sensation of weightlessness that came in the seconds before a free fall.

She couldn't feel the ground beneath her sandals.

"Bwuh—?!" Temari started to say.

Hands grabbed her ankles, snaring her legs from beneath, and she realized that she was being dragged into the earth. It swallowed her up like quicksand, in the blink of an eye rising up to envelop her legs, her stomach, her chest, her shoulders.

Nearly before she knew what was happening, Temari was encased up to her neck in distressingly tight-packed dirt.

And above her crouched the guilelessly grinning jackass who had just humiliated her.

"Headhunter Jutsu, a real classic," said Naruto Uzumaki, giving a V-sign that made Temari long to break free and punch him in that cocky bastard face. "I guess that's another victory for me! Sorry, Temari, but you'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to beat this guy."

He chuckled and looked up.

"Hey. That rhymes, sort of. Sorry Temari. Hehe."

Temari glared at him in righteous indignation.

"I hate you," she hissed.

"You're not the first," Naruto said. "And you won't be the last either, I'm sure. Lots of people hate me, but way more love me."

Temari growled irritably. Twitching, she looked askance at the referee.

Then a thought struck.

Naruto had been right underneath her.

"You didn't look up my skirt, did you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

A beat.

Two seconds passed.

"Of course not." Naruto said. "You're a little too far on the young side for me."

Temari scowled, unsure as whether to be relieved, offended, or vaguely weirded out by this remark.

Elsewhere in the arena, Genma belatedly dug his way out from underneath a rather hefty cedar. Seeing Temari buried in the ground and Naruto standing over her, he did the sensible thing and announced the match as a win in the boy's favor.

Naruto would proceed to the next round – either the finals or the semifinals, depending on the outcomes of the next two fights.

Rasa twitched, up in the kage box. His expression was a tad baleful, such that the Kusa representative inched tentatively away from him.

"I know I was largely expecting this outcome, after how handily the boy defeated Gaara..." he said under his breath, almost a sigh. "...but still, this was just embarrassing."

"What?" said Hiruzen. "The way he provoked your daughter into losing her temper and used the ensuing chaos of her jutsu to sneak up on her and launch a surprise attack from underground?"

"No," Rasa said. "That was sound tactical thinking, even if the ease with which Temari rose to his bait was just a touch disappointing. No, I'm talking more about the fact that both of my children have lost to someone who seems obssessed with the most... puerile of ninjutsu. I mean, really!"

"It's appropriate though, in a way," Hiruzen mused. "Kitsune have long been depicted as using such shapeshifting powers to trick and seduce humans..."

"What was that?" Rasa looked up from his mulish brooding, distracted.

"Oh, nothing important." Hiruzen chortled.

Rasa frowned, seeming mildly perplexed.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Haruna's jaw dropped, the Hidden Grass representative quickly connecting the dots.

"Well, call me a monkey's uncle..." she muttered, swallowing.

The Sandaime smiled.

The next match was highly anticipated by young lads and lolicons alike hoping to see a catfight. Everyone else was just excited to see the Hyuuga clan heiress and Tsunade's youngest apprentice duke it out.

Bets were placed, money changing hands all over the place. Expectations were high. It was sure to be a knock-down, drag-out slugfest, a real slobberknocker of a fight.

Hinata Hyuuga and Sakura Haruno faced off. They shared knowing smiles.

While they had never been especially close in the academy, or as genin, in the latter halves of their lives thus far, the two of them had come to establish a certain bond as women suffering, at one point or another, from unrequited love. They came to share a camaraderie and mutual support for one another's affections, a shared understanding.

Even if Sakura's initial motives had been... less than entirely selfless, she'd still ultimately played a bigger part in convincing Naruto and Hinata to get together than just about any other single person. And Hinata had been immeasurably grateful for this, and had stood by Sakura in her own search for love, a close friend and confidant in lonely times.

Ino, for how in sync she and Sakura were, was nonetheless admittedly not always the best at keeping secrets, or the most capable of understanding Sakura's troubles. In matters of love, when it came to her relationship with Sasuke, it was usually Hinata in whom Sakura confided, whose quiet strength and boundless patience she leaned on and borrowed to carry her through lonely years spent waiting for word from her husband.

Hinata and Sakura got each other in a way that few people did, male or female.

"Let's make this a good show, okay?" Sakura said. "Our success hinges on making this look impressive."

"Yes," Hinata said, nodding. "Let's."

It began.

Sakura's fingers danced through a quick sequence of handseals. With a grin, she slapped a hand down on the ground.

"Earth Style: Mud Wave Jutsu!"

The ground rippled violently, concentric circles traveling outward from the point of contact. Like the surface of a pond disturbed by a pebble, compacted soil rose and fell in a classic waveform.

Hinata jumped over the crest of the first wave, landing in the trough and kicking off. She cleared the next two in a single bound, landing on the rear side of the fourth wave. She formed a handseal, and sparks crackled around her feet.

She vanished in a blur of motion, and the ground stilled.

Sakura was already weaving the seals for her next jutsu. Inhaling deeply, she focused her chakra. Cheeks puffed out, and she spat a formidable quantity of water in front of her.

Water Style: Water Wall.

Flames blossomed before the wave, starbursts of red and orange impacting the fluid rampart. Hissing steam billowed, flame quenched and water boiled. For an instant, Hinata's silhouette was visible in the cloud of vapor.

Then the steam broke on one side, a dark figure leaping out too fast for its shape to discerned. It swerved quickly, lookinging like it aimed to flank Sakura.

Scoffing, the pinkette formed another seal and kicked the ground. A wall of hardened earth shot up, an immovable bulwark intercepting the figure's trajectory. She started running to one side, and more walls rose up to follow the first one, like a line of fortifications painted out in a castle building RTS.

Another figure appeared in front of her, outrunning the wall. In the moment it slowed down while shifting its velocity, swerving on sandaled toes to face her with pale eyes, she saw that it was Hinata.

Or maybe a clone, at least.

Sakura cocked her arm back and curled her hand into a fist. Earth Spear. Her skin darkened, like getting a considerable tan in mere seconds.

She punched.

Her fist passed Hinata's head. The flesh and blood blow didn't land, but the bow wave from her arm – the mere wake of her punch – was enough to knock the other girl off her feet. Hinata stumbled and fell into Sakura's body.

There was a smile on her face.

A shadow clone destabilized. In lieu of a harmless puff of smoke, it broke apart in forks of electricity lashing Sakura's body, coursing through her defensive jutsu like it wasn't even there.

"Damn, that's bracing...!" Sakura hissed, biting her lip. Her skin reverted to its normal shade, except that her face was a touch rosier than usual. She smirked crookedly. "Are you trying to get me excited, Hinata-chan?"

She stepped to the side, and Hinata passed palm-first through the air where Sakura's back had been a second earlier, a silent and catlike pounce.

"Perhaps I am." Hinata smiled in good humor. "That's one way to take an opponent out of the game, isn't it?"

"A very unorthodox way!" Sakura laughed.

They spun. A fist came up with blinding speed, ripping through the air like an anti-tank round. Fluid and graceful, Hinata twisted her torso and sidestepped, a palm lancing out at the same moment. Sakura's punch clipped Hinata's midsection, and Hinata's strike grazed Sakura's shoulder.

One staggered and coughed up a bit of blood-flecked spittle, pressing a hand to her gut and wincing. The other grimaced and flexed, clenching her fist stiffly and awkwardly, her arm's movements a bit clumsy.

Meeting one another's eyes, they leaped back to gain distance, then snapped their hands together in a blinding series of seals. Both inhaled deeply, then exhaled at the end of their mudra.

Suiton: Suiryuudan no Jutsu!

Sakura expectorated ten thousand drowned lungs' worth of lung, an oriental wyrm of pure water. Its coiled length moved ponderously through the air, an elongated head coming down with jaws spread wide.

Katon: Karyuu Endan!

Hinata spewed a sea of flame, and from the inferno rose the visage of a terrible drake. It leaped up baring fangs of yellow and orange, illusory eyes like deep red coals set into a spectral, sneering head.

It was a clash of ninjutsu in the most ancient sense, two warriors shaping the elements to do their bidding, bringing their phantasmal arts to a head in a single, terrible stroke. Dragons of fire and water dueled with a cataclysmic roar of crackling flame and rushing current.

Steam billowed; it enveloped the arena in a thick, searing cloud.

Shizune took a moment to pick her jaw up off the floor. Her mouth was agape, and her eyes were open wide.

Iruka, next to her, was gawping at the spectacle of Sakura and Hinata's fight. Knuckles went bone white with the force of his grip on Shizune's hand, and she was returning the favor ounce for ounce.

"Incredible..." she breathed. "I didn't think these kids were at such a high level. I'm not sure I could pull off that kind of ninjutsu."

"They're shoo-ins for chuunin, at this rate," Iruka said, slowly shaking his head. "At least... as long as they don't make any serious tactical blunders. But it would take a LOT of repeated, foolish decisions on their parts to fumble it by this point."

Shizune nodded slowly, still a little in shock as she observed the scale of the pair's battle.

"You know, the crazy thing is... I'd swear they're not even going all out," she muttered under her breath, her forehead crinkling and corrugating as she knitted her brows and pursed her lips.

Iruka did not miss this. Neither Shizune's words, nor what she observed. He caught both, and had to admit that she might have had a point, even as inconceivable as it seemed...

...but he wasn't sure he wanted to believe that.

He simply wasn't ready to think that these kids were fighting at this level and yet still holding back.

It was a little too scary to contemplate.

"SHANNARO!"

Sakura's battlecry tore through the arena, and a slight figure could be dimly seen leaping through the steam. Scarcely more than a shadow to most of the observers, she struck the ground knuckles-first.

Hinata, her byakugan active and capable of seeing Sakura's chakra through the steam cover, handily dodged the attack. The earth, unfortunately, could not.

Scattering, the cloud of steam exploded. It was blasted away by dust and shockwaves. At Sakura's feet, beneath her fist, the ground tore open. Rock shards and clods of dirt sprayed through the air, solid earth buckling and fracturing around the rim of a newly formed crater.

Hunks of soil and gravel ranging in size from small caliber bullets to minivans flew out from the epicenter of Sakura's brutal strike like the frag grenade from hell. Hinata spun on her heels, seeing a good deal of this ballistic debris headed right for her, and performed a flawless kaiten.

The shrapnel broke or rebounded off of the defensive waza, and for a moment the swirling dome of chakra gouged the soil out in a crater to rival the impact from Sakura's punch. Wisps of ethereal light began to unfurl then, after a handful of seconds, and it dissipated.

For a moment, Hinata seemed to be staring Sakura down. Then she stepped out of the crater and thrust both palms forward.

Hakke: Kuuhekishou!

A wave of pressurized air and chakra slammed into Sakura, and the pinkette had to roll with the attack to keep from being knocked down. She somersaulted backwards and ducked to minimize her profile.

"On your feet, Sakura. I know that wasn't enough to end this."

"Heh. Whoever said I was off my feet?"

Hinata smiled. With a flex of her inner power, she manifested a pair of ghostly lions' heads over her hands. Her body itself became enveloped in the aura of a dragon.

Sakura, at the other end of the field, cracked her knuckles and tapped into her seal of a hundred strengths. Arcane scrit unraveled from the diamond mark on her forehead, spreading to frame her face.

The pinkette bit her thumb and weaved a quick and fairly familiar series of seals. In a puff of smoke, a mini-Katsuyu appeared on her shoulder. Grinning, Sakura clenched her fists.

"Is it time already, Sakura-sama?" the polite slug queried, adressing her summoner with the utmost respect.

"Yeah. Just like we practiced, okay?"

Katsuyu nodded. Her form glowed momentarily with chakra, but the luminescence quickly faded.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen.

Then Sakura's irises turned a piercing gold. Dark red pigment bloomed around her eyes.

"Hell yes," she growled. "Time to kick some Hyuuga booty."

Jiraiya inhaled with a sharp hiss, eyes nearly bugging out of his sockets. Spinning around to face Tsunade, he gaped at her smugly grinning face.

"Um, I don't mean to be rude, but... isn't that sage chakra?"

"Yes," Tsunade said, smirking at her teammate. "Yes it is."

"You taught that girl how to use sage mode?" Jiraiya repeated, at a loss.

"I didn't, no," Tsunade said. "Katsuyu showed her the ropes."

Jiraiya shook his head, slowly settling back into his seat.

"Wow. And she already has the hang of it..." He whistled. "Man, that boy really wasn't kidding about how strong his teammates were. If that girl was ten, twenty years older..."

"She'd kick your ass."

"Well, yes. Probably." Jiraiya grinned. "But I reckon I'd enjoy it, depending on what kind of a woman she grew into..."

Tsunade rolled her eyes.

"Incorrigible lech," she muttered.

Jiraiya shrugged.

"I am what I am."

"Metsu Hadouken!"

An orb of deep indigo flame shot across the battlefield, as large as any Goukakyuu an Uchiha had ever spat. Hinata threw the fireball with her hands, summoning it between the lions' heads through strength of chakra and force of will.

Sakura flipped over the fireball, a graceful and acrobatic move that would have won her the perfect score at any civilian gymnastics competition. Deftly, she bounded and vaulted over subsequent waves of pressure and bolts of energy, elemental chakra flashing across the arena.

They met in the center. An exchange of blows took place, swift and artful.

Sakura's fists shattered the earth with every swing, embedding craters in the arena wall without even coming close to touching them. Hinata danced a perilous tango with her foe, the dragon aura absorbed the worst of the force from Sakura's blows, but it was still enough to nearly lay her out flat with every strike.

Hinata's hands were a blur, springing to and fro. Palms struck, fingers jabbed, while twin lions followed her every movement. Sakura's tenketsu closed, here and there, but the girl was clever and knew enough about anatomy to understand where she did not want Hinata hitting her, and mostly managed to protect those spots.

"Damn, that's one tough cookie," Sakura muttered, ineffectually smiting the brow of Hinata's dragon cloak. "You're barely even staggering when I hit you."

"I know how to take a punch," Hinata said. "But so do you, I must say. I am really not making much headway here."

Hinata grazed Sakura's left arm, barely managing to stick out her thumb and jab it into another tenketsu. Sakura drove a knee into Hinata's gut, and even through the defensive aura the Hyuuga winced.

"How much chakra do you think you have left?" Sakura asked, panting.

"With how we've been burning through it?" Hinata said, beads of sweat scintillating beneath her chakra shroud. "Maybe half."

"Damn," Sakura muttered. "I can't be at more than a third full, myself. We'll have to really stretch to make this convincing."

"You haven't tapped into the Yang chakra yet," Hinata said.

"I don't wanna overpower you. Just end this in a draw." Sakura grinned crookedly. "Plus, I don't really like using that chakra for fighting. As long as I keep it in reserve solely for healing, I can sorta justify spending the rest of my chakra on big, flashy jutsu."

Hinata smiled.

"You just want to show off."

"Don't we all?" Sakura laughed. "Besides, this was your idea... that is, ending the match in a draw so our husbands can fight each other on even footing. Or even-ish, at least."

Hinata stepped back, and so did Sakura. The former's chakra shrouds dissipated. The latter's eyes went back to their natural color, the markings on her face fading. Katsuyu disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Bullets of sweat fell in a torrential shower from their pores, uncountable beads of moisture slicking their skin and dampening their clothes.

"Oof," Sakura panted, wiping some perspiration from her forehead. "Damn, I am going to reek by the time we get back to the boys. This body really can't take the heat. Literally."

Hinata nodded, looking a little woozy.

"Shall we?" she said, moving into a marginally shaky stance.

"Yes." Sakura grinned. "Let's."

And they collided in one last exchange, a single blow each.

Hinata landed a palm square to Sakura's sternum. Sakura drove a fist into Hinata's abdomen.

Both coughed up a bit of blood.

Then they swooned as one, collapsing backwards into the dirt. A dead faint, seemingly.

Genma poked his head out of the shelter he'd erected at the opposite end on the arena, constructed from the logs of the trees Temari had cut down in her rage at Naruto.

"...Is it over?" he wondered anxiously.

A pause.

He looked at Sakura and Hinata's seemingly unconscious forms.

"Oh. Well," he said. "It seems this round ends in a tie."

The audience cheered.

Hinata and Sakura smiled.

"Well," Sasuke said. "It looks like we'll be fighting each other in the finals, Naruto."

"You don't know that," the blond replied with a cheeky wink. "Shino's pretty good."

Sasuke glowered. "It was thoughtful of the girls," he said, stubbornly refusing to take the bait. "Contriving to end their match in a tie like that."

"Oh, you could tell?" Naruto hummed. "Yeah, it was a helluva show."

"They were holding back."

"Yeah, well obviously. The arena's already looking pretty beat up from the last few rounds. If they didn't pull their punches they might've brought the whole place down on everyone's heads."

"Ugh. That's annoying," Sasuke muttered. "If we're going to fight, I want it to be a serious one. It's no fun if we can't cut loose a little."

"Ah. You're sounding a little like Madara, there," Naruto joked.

Sasuke shot him a death glare.

Ino looked catatonic, staring down into the arena.

"Holy shit, Sakura was that strong?" she said. "When? HOW?!"

"Looks like there's no shame in your loss," Shikamaru snarked. "If she's that powerful, then you couldn't have stood a chance to begin with. Right?"

Ino scowled.

"That's not the point!" she snapped.

"Sure it isn't," Shikamaru drawled.

Itachi let out a low whistle, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Hiashi Hyuuga, one row ahead and two seats over, had his hands folded solemnly in his lap.

"I am convinced," said the Hyuuga patriarch simply, steadily. "Our clan's entire system is bullshit."

Neji couldn't help a smirk a little, overhearing this. Vindication had never tasted so sweet. Tenten, on the other hand, looked surprised to hear such an austere personage as Hiashi swearing.

"What is bullshit, father?" Hanabi asked innocently, not recognizing the word.

"Tradition," said Hiashi laconically, a response that would cause a few hilarious misunderstandings some time down the road.

Itachi eyed this scene bemusedly, then shook his head.

"It seems the future of our clan is bright, with a woman like that as its matriarch," he said to himself, watching as medics carted Hinata and Sakura off the field. "You chose well, Sasuke. I daresay she will be a fine wife. Or rather, she already is..."

"Our little girl is all grown up!" Mebuki Haruno wept tears of motherly pride. "Oh, honey! She's grown so strong!"

She clasped her hands as if thanking heaven or Providence for their daughter's show of skill and power. Beside her, the stout and burly Kizashi, her husband, sniffled.

"Ah, I'm so proud!" he said. "Our little Sakura has truly blossomed."

"Except for her bosom," Mebuki sniffed, smiling wanly. She gave a joking smile. "That's still just a bud."

"Yes," Kizashi repeated, clearing his throat. "Our little cherry blossom has truly flowered. Why, before we know it, she'll have given away her cherry to some no good punk... and then what will she be left with? An empty tree?"

He laughed tearfully.

"She'll always have us," Mebuki said.

"Yes, she'll always have her parents," Kizashi agreed. "I refuse to die until she's a hundred!"

Now, for the last match of the semi-finals.

"Are you going to fight me, Sasuke?"

Shino stood across from the one-armed Uchiha, hands in his pockets. He was inscrutable, with his sunglasses and high collar, his face nearly expressionless. Picture-perfect stoicism.

But Sasuke could detect a hint of impatience beneath the surface. Shino was actually a rather sensitive guy when you got down to it. He hated to be ignored, and not just because of the dreadful, terrible, simply perfect pun of mushi (meaning 'bugs') and mushi (meaning 'to ignore').

"You're awfully restless," he observed, smirking just a tad.

"I haven't fought a single serious opponent since the Forest of Death," the insect user said. "And even that was only a giant snake."

"I wouldn't have taken you for the sort of guy to get worked up about fighting."

Shino pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. He may or may not have used this action as an excuse to subtly flip Sasuke the bird.

(Probably not, but one can always imagine.)

"And I'm not," he said. "But combat is an inherent aspect of shinobi discipline, and while I may know full well where I stand in the fields of stealth, tracking, infiltration, and evasion... my fighting ability is less certain."

"You want to know how good you are in a fight," Sasuke said, cocking his head. "Is that it? But you did pretty well in your last two matches."

"Against insignificant opponents, yes," Shino said. He inclined his own head. "But you are much stronger, aren't you? The fame of the Uchiha is still great, despite their tragic loss."

"You heard the press release." Sasuke shrugged. "It wasn't that big a loss."

Shino hummed thoughtfully.

"You're not upset about their deaths, then?"

"That was years ago," Sasuke said. "I've given up dwelling on the past."

From his perspective, this was a perfectly truthful statement.

From his perspective.

"And has that made you stronger?" Shino wondered aloud. "Your skill precedes you, or at least rumors thereof."

"You saw my last two fights," Sasuke replied. "You know what I can do."

Shino stared at Sasuke, presumably. It was a little difficult to tell exactly where he was looking, with those sunglasses.

"Do I?" he said. "I think you have been holding back. Sakura is not the strongest member of your team. How do I know this? Simple. Akamaru is able to detect a person's chakra and rough combat ability."

Shino raised a hand. On the back of it crawled a small kikaichu.

"According to Kiba," he continued, "Sakura is the weakest member of Team Seven. Therefore, you and Naruto are stronger. Despite this, you have not yet displayed any abilities significantly exceeding what Sakura showed in her fight with Hinata. Thus, you have been holding back."

"Ha. Very good, very good," Sasuke said, smiling. "I'd applaud your deductive reasoning, but that would require me to answer an unanswerable question. And I'm not terribly into zen."

He raised his one hand.

Shino gave Sasuke a deadpan look.

"That was a terrible joke."

"So now you're an expert on humor, too?" Sasuke laughed.

"Enough prelude," Shino said. "Talk is cheap."

He stepped forward and spread his arms. Bugs poured out from under his sleeves, a glistening black mass comprised of hundreds of tiny, chitinous forms. It was an entomophobe's worst nightmare come true, a glossy wave of buzzing drones flying out in attack formation.

Sasuke teleported in past the bugs. One second he was several feet away, the next second he and Shino were within 'accidental kiss' range.

"Sorry, but no," Sasuke said. "One close call is more than enough for today."

A six-pointed star encompassed Shino's entire field of vision, black on red on black on white.

Tsukuyomi.

Shino collapsed after three seconds spent locked to Sasuke's stare, a dead faint. Fast asleep. He dreamed strangely pleasant dreams of a vaguely boyish girl in a very short skirt, a girl with tan skin and short green hair...

Naruto and Sakura weren't the only matchmakers on Team Seven.

Sasuke was just a lot more subtle about it.

Chapter Text

It was time.

Two competitors walked out into the arena, bowing to one another. Giving pre-fight greetings and nods of acknowledgement.

"Naruto."

"Sasuke."

In the kage box, Rasa and Haruna looked more bored than interested, most likely because the participants from their villages were out of the running. Now it was just a fight of one Konoha ninja versus another Konoha ninja.

Even if one of those ninja was one of the last survivors of an ancient and noble clan, and the other was obviously the son of the Fourth Hokage and slightly less obviously the jinchuuriki of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox (not that Rasa had actually worked out that last bit, yet), it was still ultimately just a fight between Leaf ninja.

Neither the Kazekage nor the Kusagakure jounin council's representative had any particular investment in this match.

Surely, they'd already seen the extent of these kids' abilities by now. Maybe they might still have one or two tricks left up their sleeves, but how much more could there really be? They were both already shoo-ins for chuunin, anyways. It didn't matter to them who, out of Naruto and Sasuke, won.

Either way, it was a victory for Konoha.

Big deal.

The tension in the audience, on the other hand, was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Admittedly, actually trying to do so would have promptly earned one a shuriken through the eye from one of the twitchier ninja spectators, but it was still a useful metaphor.

And the chakra was just as thick, between Naruto and Sasuke.

Iruka was torn between swelling with pride and developing an aneurysm. Shizune was patting him on the shoulder and fighting the urge to sweatdrop at the sheer levels of power radiating from the arena. Jiraiya grinned smugly, and Tsunade scoffed.

Anko cackled and puffed out her chest, draping an arm over Kakashi's shoulder. Guy, on the Copy Ninja's other side, was wide-eyed and bushy-browed. Asuma and Kurenai, in another section of the audience, respectively puffed on a cigarette and took a draught from a flask smelling strongly of vodka.

Hayate Gekko and Yugao Uzuki were not present in the stands. They'd slipped away to share some alone time at the start of the second round, and were probably snuggled up in some remote cranny right about now.

The other Konoha ninja in the audience demonstrated reactions ranging from hometown pride to slight anxiety. Even civilians with zero chakra sense could feel the pressure emanating from the arena. Hell, the stadium itself was nearly starting to shake as Naruto and Sasuke presented the seals of confrontation to one another.

Itachi Uchiha had his sharingan active, and he was sitting ramrod straight in his seat. He was one of the only people here, along with the Sandaime and the time travelers themselves (and their mentors and sensei, to a lesser extent) who had any idea of just how HIGH up the relative power scale Naruto and Sasuke really were.

Him... and basically just about every sensor-nin within ten miles of the arena. Whether the two boys had been partially erasing their presences until now, or had only just now begun to seriously imbue their chakra, the effect was truly awe inspiring either way.

Itachi was sure he could see pebbles and smaller bits of debris floating up around and between the youths as they stared off in the arena.

Hiashi and family, in one of the rows in front of Itachi, were blatantly gobsmacked. Neji looked like he was close to breaking down in hysterical paroxysms, Hiashi was gaping like a goldfish, and Hanabi was peplexedly asking her father some very awkward questions about that giant, nine-tailed kitsune standing behind Naruto.

Tenten, for her part, was simply perturbed by her date's behavior, and wondering what on earth Hanabi was talking about.

She didn't see any darned foxes.

Genma looked ready to piss himself, down in the arena, and he was frantically inching away from the two finalists. His face was chalk white.

Not an ounce of killing intent was coming off those kids... and yet they were almost visibly brimming with chakra. If you squinted, you could even see a slight glow around their bodies Like a human corona.

"Umm... L-Let's keep this a clean fight, okay?" Genma squeaked, standing around fifteen meters (nearly fifty feet, give or take) away from the pair. Practically at the very edge of the arena.

"We're ninja," Sasuke said in response, onyx eyes alternately graying and erubescing. A sharinnegan whirred to life. "Of course it will be a clean fight."

Genma was not the slightest bit reassured by this.

"Er, very well," he said, inching still further back, moving until his back hit the wall of the stadium. The poor referee felt acutely like an ant at the feet of giants. "Ah... b-b-begin!"

He swung his hand down.

Sasuke and Naruto smiled. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then there was a blur of motion, a field of gleaming black that seemed to flash between the pair. It lasted less then a second, accompanied by a noise like thunder in its volume, but more akin to the clashing of a million swords in its piercing ring.

In an instant, the ground between and around Naruto and Sasuke became ringed with a thick field of darts. Shuriken and kunai bristled in packed soil, bent and blunted and sundered as though they had each endured thousands of impacts over years of use.

Except they had the clean, polished gleam of new metal, the shine of weapons which had not yet seen extensive use... and probably never would, now, given their present shape.

From an aerial view, the result of this nigh instantaneous exchange looked rather similar to how iron filings would arrange themselves around two opposing magnets on a flat plane. Slowly, the audience parsed what had just happened.

In a fraction of a second, it seemed Naruto and Sasuke had bombarded one another with enough throwing weapons to make Tenten blush, and deflected every last one of them just as quickly. Most of the darts had to have clashed in mid-air, shuriken intercepting shuriken, kunai glancing off of kunai.

Neither of the combatants had a single scratch on them.

Genma gaped.

In the audience as well, many spectators were astounded by the sheer speed at which this firefight had occurred. Rasa and the Kusa representative both stared, shocked out of their impatient boredom.

Sasuke hummed, flipping a bent and twisted kunai in his hand.

"You threw them too hard," he said, smiling idly. "This was one of my good knives."

"I could say the same to you, Sasuke!" Naruto laughed and lazily tossed a similarly battered kunai into the dirt at his feet. "Your shuriken were going just as fast."

"Speed used to be my thing, between the two of us," Sasuke replied. "Back before you got all those boosts from Kurama."

He drew another kunai, and this one danced with flickers of electricity. Chakra extended from his blade like a partially defective lightsaber, sparking and buzzing around the edges. He brandished it like a sword, tightening the blade and honing it into a perfectly straight and controlled edge.

"That was a very long time ago," Naruto said, shrugging. He drew a kunai himself, and visibly channeled chakra around the blade. "Besides, you can teleport."

"Yes. So I can." Sasuke smirked.

Suddenly, the pair of them vanished.

An instant later, they reappeared, their chakra-streamed kunai clashing together. Dust was kicked up in spiral ridges at their feet, and they swung their blades in a flurry of movement. Soil and gravel were sliced up cleanly around them, fine cuts and deep gouges quickly marking the dirt.

Naruto and Sasuke started changing the natures of their chakra.

Wind bit into the edge of a tethered lightning bolt, and sparks erupted in a gout of flame fed by that wind, which bore back down in a crash of water threatening to consume the fire, only to break as flame cooled and became rigid earth, over which the waves washed harmlessly, only to course with lightning and smite the rock, shattering it, save for a fierce wind to sweep out from the broken earth and rebuff the thunder.

So on and so forth, ad infinitum.

They cycled through the elements with each swing, strategizing on the fly like a life or death game of rock-paper-scissors to anticipate their opponent's next choice. And considering that both Sasuke's sharingan and Naruto's senjutsu granted them a kind of combat precognition, they were naturally making dozens of split second adjustments with each swing, a game of mental cat and mouse played at a speed most ninja could only dream of.

Doing this much was mere child's play for them. Neither of the combatants even felt the infinitesimal drain this continual streaming and shifting of natured chakra put on their reserves.

It was mere droplets out of an ocean, nothing over which to concern themselves.

Killer Bee cocked his head.

"Huh. You think so, Hattsan? That's a trip," he said seemingly to himself. "If I couldn't feel that chakra, I'd say 'Get a grip'."

"Eh?" Omoi, seated nearest to Bee, eyed him curiously. "What are you talking about, sensei?"

"Those boys down there are hella strong." Bee grinned. "Kyuubi at least, if Hattsan ain't wrong."

Chouji cocked his head. "Huh? What's that about the Kyuubi? Who's Hattsan?"

Samui, seated on the opposite side of Karui, quickly paled. She put two and two together with ease, and whipped her head around to stare at the two combatants in surprise.

"I didn't think Konoha had jinchuuriki..." she muttered.

"Eh?" Chouji blinked. "What's a jinchuuriki?"

Samui, Karui, and Omoi turned to stare at him. They looked at Bee-sensei, then back to Chouji.

They looked away.

"N-Nothing important," they lied, looking rather anxious.

Puzzled, Chouji absentmindedly took a potato chip... and ate it.

CRACK!

Naruto and Sasuke leaped back, dropping their respective kunai. Iron blades crumbled into dust, scattering on a breeze before they could touch the ground. The two fighters landed at the opposite edges of the crater which had formed at their feet, torn up by the repeated, cataclysmic clashes of the elements that had erupted from every swing of their knives.

The arena grounds were already a complete mess, with fallen trees and pitted earth everywhere, and this did nothing to improve the state of the landscaping. Rocks ranging in size from pebbles to great boulders were tumbled across gouged and pockmarked soil, and a once level field was now as much slopes and crevices as flat ground.

A trio of commas ringed the pupil of Sasuke's right eye. His left eye was gray with concentric circles like a layered focusing lens. Naruto had dark orange marks around his eyes, and bar-shaped pupils in golden irides.

"Hmph. Streaming chakra isn't your specialty," Sasuke observed, idly clenching his fist. "Your technique is still sloppy in that area."

"Only in the sense that you're a little better at it than I am," Naruto said. He clasped his hands as if praying.

"You haven't taken advantage of the openings left by my missing arm, either." Sasuke knitted the fingers of his own hand into an esoteric configuration. "And don't try to say there aren't any openings. I know there are, and I know you're good enough to take advantage of them."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Naruto said, rolling his eyes and smirking. "You're just trying to bait me. The moment I move in to exploit that apparent opening, BAM! You'll grow a mech-arm and sock me in the gut. I'm not stupid."

Sasuke laughed.

"Even after all this time, I continue to underestimate your intelligence."

"I'm smarter than I look." Naruto grinned.

Sasuke inhaled through his nostrils, nearly imperceptible.

Katon: Gouka Mekkyaku!

He spewed a massive orb of fire, vast and ponderous. It swept through the crater and scorched the dirt, waves of heat rolling off it in an oppressive manner, nearly suffocating in their intensity.

With his visual prowess, Sasuke could see Naruto spitting out a small lake's worth of water in response like it was happening in slow motion.

Acting half on instinct, Sasuke jumped up into the air and formed another seal.

Katon: Gouenka!

He spat out three fireballs at once, and they descended like a trio of burning comets.

In response, the tall waves crashed and climbed upward, arching like a raised shield over Naruto's head, the water forming into a solid dome around the blond. It looked like a Dai Bakusui Shouha, but Sasuke wasn't completely sure.

Either way, of course, the jutsu would probably suffice to nullify his two fire attacks...

Sasuke looked at the ground behind Naruto, and he teleported behind his teammate in an instant. He raised his hand, and it sparked with electricity.

...but lightning would penetrate with ease.

"Chido—!"

A fist crashed into his jaw, and Sasuke stumbled back.

The attacker spun around, aiming to drive an elbow into his gut. He caught this with his hand, but his assailant twisted and flipped upside down, and a hard knee struck his shoulder.

Sasuke let go and body-flickered a few steps back. A shadow clone stared him down with the same sage mode eyes as its maker. Naruto's water dome steamed and rippled as the flames from Sasuke's prior jutsu washed over it. Only a couple of seconds had passed.

By their usual standards, the blond was effectively standing still. He turned around slowly inside the dome as the flames continued to gutter and fizzle. Mind you, the speed of this action would still have seemed respectable to most ninja, and terribly impressive to most civilians, but it was painstakingly slothful to Sasuke's perception.

The original Naruto was far from his primary concern, however.

Sasuke ducked to avoid having his head taken off by a rasenshuriken, then jumped over a second rasenshuriken, and teleported to the left to dodge a third and fourth. Shrieking detonations tore up the battlefield, Naruto's shadow clone throwing around rasenshuriken like they were... well, ordinary shuriken.

Sasuke burned a few precious seconds on the evasive, weaving and rolling and leaping and teleporting to avoid a seemingly endless barrage of randomly natured rasenshuriken. One scorched the earth in a hellstorm of fire, leaving behind vitrified soil like glass. Another crashed and rumbled with the sound of thunder, smiting the arena wall like Thor and Zeus playing a game of darts.

The water dome collapsed.

Yet another rasenshuriken exploded in a shower of lava after carving a trench halfway across the field, filling one of the larger craters up to the brim with molten rock. Even more caused everything from localized earthquakes to blizzards to screaming kamaitachi on steroids.

And this was still only a fraction of the elements at Naruto's disposal.

"Wow, and here I thought SASUKE had won the lottery with his chakra natures." Anko whistled, looking down into the arena as her apprentice dodged through a bullet hell of insanely destructive jutsu. "Where would a person even get all those affinities? I know his mom didn't have half that crap, and the Yondaime's parents were just fishermen."

Kakashi shrugged.

"For sanity's sake, I've been assuming he got it from... well, you know." He looked around, seeing a number of foreigners and kids in the seats around them. "His... hem, furry little problem."

"Kurama, you mean?" said Guy.

Kakashi turned his head to stare.

"...and how do you know that name?" he asked.

He himself had only learned of the Kyuubi's supposed true name when Naruto told it to him after a little freak out he had the first time the boy had used his OTHER chakra in training, and it had still taken Kakashi more than a few doses of tranquilizer to calm down from that revelation.

"Tenten," Guy said simply, as if this was completely normal. "She heard it from Neji. And he heard it from his cousin, Hanabi, who apparently heard it from her sister Hinata, who knew it from..." He paused and shrugged. "...well, you know."

A beat.

"Know what?" Anko wondered.

Kakashi sweatdropped.

Are those two really that obvious...?

Sasuke ducked under an acid style rasenshuriken, and narrowly sidestepped a steam release one as well. He wasn't entirely clear on the exact distinction between the two, save that one was more gaseous while the other was more liquid.

Both dissolved things, after all, so maybe it was just a matter of semantics. But he was distracted from this train of thought by another rasenshuriken, this one with unmistakable wind chakra.

"Hn."

His sharinnegan blazed, and a giant skeletal arm of purple chakra came into being on his left. Phalanges locked together, bony fingers curling over the buzzsaw spokes of the shadow clone's most recent attack. A shoulder sprouted from the arm's base, translucent flesh beginning to knit over ghostly bones as ribs spread out and curled around Sasuke's flank.

The rasenshuriken detonated, and blades of wind tore at the arm of a storm god.

It had minimal effect.

Sasuke's form seemed to dance with flames, for a moment, deep violet tongues flickering up from his body. Then his chakra surged, and his eyes flashed. A great, armored tengu enveloped his form, wings spreading out, and he stood up on two legs like trees, towering over his opponent.

Naruto's shadow clone paused in its barrage.

"Well, shit," it said. "Looks like Sasuke's tired of dodging."

"Yeah." The original Naruto appeared at the clone's side, his hands clasped. "I kinda figured that would happen."

"Enough fooling around, Naruto..." came Sasuke's voice from the Susanoo. It glared down at the blond and his shadow clone. "Fight seriously for once."

Naruto let out an exasperated sigh.

"Jeez, this guy... he can say what he wants, but he really is just like that ancestor of his, isn't he? In one way, at least."

An arrow of black flame pierced the ground next to Naruto, narrowly missing him and his shadow clone. It devoured rock and dirt, incinerating them all in a slow but steady burn as hot as the sun.

Or that's how it was classically described, at least.

"If you don't want to fight me for my sake, then do it for your sake," Sasuke said, his Susanoo stepping forward and making the ground tremble under its weight. "It's only natural, after all, for a man to want to show off in front of his... well."

He trailed off. The semi-real visage of a tengu warrior curled in a knowing smirk, mirroring the expression on its creator's face.

A moment passed.

"...Go set up a barrier," said Naruto to his clone. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, an eye twitching. "This fight's become a matter of pride, it would seem."

He smirked half in spite of himself.

His shadow clone nodded and formed a cross seal, splitting into four identical blonds. The duplicates scattered to the corners of the arena.

Naruto, the original, took a deep breath as his clones clasped their hands and stood in formation, flaring their chakra. As the fiery crimson walls of a Four Red Yang Formation barrier joined around the battlefield and rose into the sky, Naruto slowly exhaled.

Orbs of black as deep and dark as the metaphorical void manifested behind him, and his clothes became wreathed in a rune-marked, shining gild. He clutched a monk's staff in his right hand, an implement of purest ebon, and a coat of flame danced over his torso.

Sasuke swung a fist down, and the austere visage of the Nine-Tails caught the blow on a shimmering brow, a shroud of golden chakra in the shape of Kurama's head manifesting to guard Naruto. The ground depressed into a crater at his feet, a vast bowl of cracked and crushed soil thrice as wide and twice as deep as any that had been made by Sakura or Hinata.

"You want a fight, Sasuke?" Naruto grinned.

"Do you?" Sasuke rejoined.

In answer, the fox-head's mouth opened and spat a bijuudama into Susanoo's face.

Spectators dumbly gaped.

"That's an impressive barrier jutsu," Kin Tsuchi hummed, seated next to Tayuya. "It reminds me a little of your shishienjin. I bet it's nowhere near as strong, though."

She smirked, an expression intended to share a sense of confidence with her girlfriend.

Tayuya sheepishly averted her gaze.

The Four Violet Flames Formation, she knew, could theoretically be performed by any four halfway competent chuunin. In contrast, the Four Red Yang Formation could only be performed by kage-level ninja.

Lord Orochimaru had emphasized this point when teaching the Sound Four their barrier jutsu. Shisekiyoujin was to Shishienjin, he'd said, as a tiger was to a house cat. The last time on record that the former jutsu had been performed, it had been by Lord Orochimaru himself... working alongside his old master and teammates.

The God of Shinobi and Legendary Sannin.

That was the baseline minimum level of power needed to pull that jutsu off.

"Uh, yeah," Tayuya said, not meeting her girl's eyes. "Sure."

"But I suppose it's impressive, in its own way," Kin continued, chortling haughtily. "That these losers could perform even a much degraded form of your own jutsu."

"Er, right," Tayuya murmured. She winced and coughed into her fist, fidgeting. "Um, it's not exactly my jutsu, though... it does take all four of us Sound Four to pull it off, after all."

Kin looked at her with half-lidded eyes.

"Modesty doesn't suit you, dear," she said flatly.

Tayuya blushed and decided to change the topic.

"What is that?" Neji deadpanned, pointing at Sasuke's Susanoo.

"Looks like a giant made of chakra," said Tenten.

"...well, yes. Obviously. But where did it come from?"

"Wasn't your byakugan active, nephew?" Hiashi said, veins bulging around his eyes. "It looked to me like the chakra came from his sharingan."

"Is that a doujutsu power, then?" Hanabi wondered. "Making giant armor out of chakra."

Neji twitched. "It can't be," he protested. "That doesn't make any sense."

Itachi, a row or two back, cocked his head.

"How so?" he inquired, catching the Hyuuga family's attention. "It makes perfect sense to me."

Neji sweatdropped.

Susanoo brandished a sword of black flame, and Sasuke swung the blade in a wide arc. Tongues of burning pitch lashed out, carving through the arena floor like a knife through warm butter, gouging deep rifts down even into bedrock. Shisekiyoujin shuddered and flexed, and the air whipped and whirled about Susanoo, roaring in displacement with every movement it made.

Naruto darted around, nimbly dodging every stroke of Sasuke's giant, burning sword. He flew both metaphorically and literally, zipping about Susanoo's feet and shooting up around its head. He intermittently thrust fists of chakra at the guardian construct's body, hands several times the size of his body appearing out of nowhere to punch the armored icon.

Then he began to retaliate in earnest.

Holding out his shakujo, the staff he'd formed from a truth-seeking orb, Naruto swiped it through the air. Blades of wind arced out along the trajectory his strokes described, slashing at its limbs.

He stabbed the butt of the staff down, and the ground at Susanoo's feet turned to mud, a deep mire. Burying it up to its waist.

Jabbing the tip upward and swinging the staff down, he called lightning from a clear sky. Smiting its head.

Spinning it around, he summoned a raging deluge from cracks in the earth. Battering its flanks.

Thrusting it forth, he spewed a torrent of flames. Enveloping its chest.

The elements danced at his command, a concert of awesome power swirling about Sasuke's Susanoo. The titanic tengu staggered under the assault, and the sword dissipated in its hand.

After a moment more of this barrage, Susanoo's form wavered, then imploded with a deafening boom.

Naruto landed back on the ground, looking up at the smoke.

A second later, he felt Sasuke's hand on his shoulder.

"Heh. I figured you'd escape," he remarked, unperturbed. "But how'd you do it, I wonder? It doesn't look like you were in there absorbing the jutsu."

"I teleported out of the Susanoo halfway through the assault," Sasuke replied. "It's a new trick I'd been working on for our fight. I suppose you could consider it a kind of super-sized kawarimi... But what about you? Throwing around those jutsu without any handseals..."

"I've always been terrible at remembering long seal sequences," Naruto said with a shrug. "You know that. In Six Paths Sage Mode, at leat, I find it easier to just manifest the elements and shape them directly. Kinda like with rasenshuriken, but simpler."

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"Only you could say something like that with complete sincerity, Naruto," he said. "Literally anyone else would tell you that's completely backwards."

Naruto laughed.

"I suppose it is, isn't it?" he said. "But I think that's how I've always been."

"Mm, yes. Perhaps..." Sasuke chuckled.

For a moment, they just stood like that, Sasuke behind Naruto with his hand on the blond's shoulder.

Then they exploded once more into motion.

A truth-seeking orb slammed into Sasuke's chest, throwing him back. Two more orbs followed this one, and began shaping themselves into restraints. Sasuke manifested a partial Susanoo, though, and the orbs crashed against an armored torso.

Electricity sparked from his fingers.

Black lightning crashed down on Naruto's shoulder, throwing him forward, and the blond had to spin in midair and dig the butt of his staff into the dirt. Forming the seal of confrontation, he conjured up a full-sized bijuu shroud.

Kurama opened his mouth wide and swung his tails. The barrier surrounding the battlefield shuddered and warped, flexing from the force of terrible shockwaves. The Nine-Tails spat an incomplete bijuudama, a wave motion gun of pure chakra blasting out with a roar.

It washed over Susanoo, a wall of blinding light.

After a moment the giant stood up, seemingly unperturbed, and produced an ornate longbow as tall as the Hokage Tower. It was unfazed, undamaged.

Naruto looked out from inside Kurama's throat.

"You're absorbing ninjutsu now, huh?" he guessed.

Sasuke smiled and knocked an arrow.

"So I am."

In the waiting area, most of the disqualified participants watched this fight in steadily mounting awe.

"That... that's an awful lot of chakra," Karin murmured, swallowing. "Uh, wow. Holy shit. Where in the world were they hiding all of that?"

"What do you mean, Karin-san?" Lee looked quizzically at his girlfriend.

He could see the awesome display out there with his own two eyes, of course, but being a pure taijutsu user with no talent for ninjutsu or genjutsu, Lee didn't really have any particular frame of reference for just how much jutsu like this would take out of a normal shinobi, nor any ability to objectively measure the amount of power being thrown around.

He understood that this kind of thing was insanely impressive, to be sure. He wasn't BLIND. But, still... the sheer scale of this fight kind of threw everything out of perpsective. He couldn't even begin to imagine it, despite seeing these things unfold with his own two eyes.

"Those two are monsters," Karin said, weakly gesturing to the combatants. She looked pale, and she was trembling. "Goddamn... I've never felt so much chakra coming from a single person, ever... let alone two at once." She shuddered. "It's beyond human. How do you even BEGIN to cultivate reserves like that...?"

Lee cocked his head and hummed thoughtfully for a moment, stroking his chin.

Then he smiled and gave his girlfriend a thumbs up.

"Isn't it obvious? Hard work, of course!" He beamed. "Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun must truly be paragons of diligence, to achieve feats like this! Mere genius, surely, cannot account for such raw power!"

Karin sweatdropped.

"I... don't think you quite get what we're talking about..." she mumbled.

"No matter!" Lee laughed and threw an arm over her shoulder. "With enough perseverance, even the tortoise can outrun the hare! Maybe they seem overwhelming now, but we'll just have to work ten times as hard to catch up with them!"

He pulled Karin into a comradely hug, side by side, brimming with warm confidence.

She blushed and melted in his arms, suddenly no longer caring about anything else.

Rasa twitched.

"I hate you," he told Hiruzen.

The Hokage smiled.

"Whatever for?" he asked.

"You know damn well what for." Rasa glared and pointed into the arena, where the form of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox could be seen as clear as day. "That. Since when has Konoha had a jinchuuriki?"

Half a beat.

"Nearly as long as it has existed," said Hiruzen blithely.

Haruna cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward, squinting at the spectacle in the arena. The two male kage took a moment to appreciate the view.

"It's a well-kept secret, isn't it?" she said.

"Is it really?" The Sandaime laughed. "Perhaps from the children. But otherwise..."

He shrugged and gestured vaguely.

Rasa scowled and leaned back in his seat.

"You are an utter bastard," he muttered.

"So I have been told." Hiruzen chuckled.

A mushroom cloud of light blossomed at Kurama's feet. The gleaming fox bounded aside, tumbling as chunks of earth the size of oxen shot up with the speed of bullets and broke apart on his flank. He spat out a trio of bijuudama.

Aimed not at Susanoo, but its feet.

Explosions ripped through the ground, tearing the arena to pieces.

Susanoo staggered for a moment, toppling as it lost footing, only to spread its wings and alight into the sky. At their full size, now, the barrier felt very crowded. Susanoo's wingspan alone reached nearly the full distance from one wall to the other.

Kurama's tails beat the sides of the barrier as he sprang up and spread his jaws wide. He roared with his voice and Naruto's, and the blond formed a bijuudama in the gaping maw, encasing it with a shell made from his truth-seeker orbs.

Clawed hands grabbed a tengu's legs, and a kitsune spat a midnight black globe up into its gut. Susanoo groaned like the sides of a ship tossed about on a stormy sea, and its abdomen depressed as the truth-seeking bijuudama drove deeper.

One hand wreathing itself in black flame, the other shrieking with black lightning in a slow, almost melancholy chi, chi, chi, Sasuke thrust Susanoo's fists down onto Kurama's head. He spat water from his mouth, and beating wings fanned Kagustuchi with a mighty gust.

Lightning coursed over Kurama's form, and flames likewise engulfed it. Black smoke and roiling steam billowed out, a booming, flashing thunderhead enveloping the kitsune in a qiling's embrace, and two hands pierced the kyuubi's shroud at the crown, thrusting down through and into its throat.

At the same moment, Susanoo's ribs gave way with a thunderous CRACK, unable to absorb the truth-seeking shell around the bijuudama. The sphere proceeded into Susanoo's chest, where it detonated.

The combined force of these attacks shook Shisekiyoujin, the hokage-level barrier capable of tanking bijuudama from the fucking Juubi, and tore into ribbons, destroying it utterly in a single flash of light.

The stadium quaked, rumbling down to its foundations. The battlefield disintegrated as a great explosion chewed through dirt and rock, creating a single rift to dwarfed every other mar and crater heretofore made, swallowing it all up in a single, uniform depression that spanned the full breadth of the walls and broke through deeply buried pipes. Fresh water poured out from the sides of a crater that had once been the arena, pooling slowly in the very bottom of the vast hole.

For a moment, the spectators were breathless. Genma, who had been outside the barrier when it was made, breathed a tentative sigh of relief as he scrambled back down the arena wall. It was cracked and crumbling in places, but overall the stadium itself appeared to have suffered only superficial damage.

This seemed frankly miraculous.

But that wasn't the only apparent miracle, no. Naruto and Sasuke stood at the bottom of the newly formed basin, standing on the slowly rising waters. Their shirts had disintegrated, and their pants were also fairly tattered, but by and large the pair seemed amazingly intact.

"That was a nice spar," Sasuke said, smiling contentedly.

"It was fun," Naruto agreed with a nod. "We'll have to do this again sometime."

They clasped fingers in the seal of reconciliation.

"In acknowledgement of my opponent's superior abilities, I surrender," Sasuke said, pointedly speaking loud enough for Genma to hear.

"Really? It looked pretty even, from where I'm standing," Naruto said with a smirk.

"I'll defer to your authority in most other matters," Sasuke responded, sniffing. "But the Hokage is the strongest ninja in the village. That's the way it has always been."

Naruto laughed. "Hah! You cheeky bastard."

His grin was blinding.

Blinking owlishly, but feeling glad for the match to finally be over, Genma scurried down and grabbed Naruto's arm, then raised it high.

"The winner!" he announced, slowly catching up to the events and fulfilling his only real job today. "By way of forfeit...! Is NARUTO UZUMAKI!"

The crowd cheered uproariously.

Konoha's citizens were the loudest of all, and chief among them were Hinata and Sakura.

Time is a funny thing.

And by "funny", I of course mean complicated as hell.

Some describe it as a line, an arrow going inexorably from point A to point B. Others say it's like a circle, or a spiral, or some manner of loop, twisting around and repeating infinitely. There are even those who describe it as a tree branch growing out infinitely into the cosmos, sprouting ever more twigs and shoots with every choice and divergence.

Despite the many thousands of years man has spent living in time's iron grip, still very little is really known about it for certain, and even much of what is generally held as true is entirely subject to scrutiny and debate.

Is time a measureable, quantifiable aspect of nature and the physical world? Or is it an illusion, a crutch to enable the inadequate animal brain to perceive its existence in a way it can process?

One thing, at least, that can be said with almost absolute surety is that time is relative.

Whether it's clocks in orbit becoming out of sync with clocks on earth, or the brain altering your perception of the passage of time to suit its purposes, it is pretty much accepted that time's progression – or at least our experience of it – is not a constant value across the board. Rather, it is remarkably subjective, changing locally with any number of factors, more like a matter of opinion than something of fact.

So, with all that in mind, we turn the focus of the story to a Konoha twenty-five years into the future, minus however much time it has been since the Seventh Hokage and pals first wound up in the past. If you have to visualize it, imagine the timeline of Naruto as a length of ribbon. On that ribbon, there are two points that have suddenly been changed.

One is the point in which Naruto and friends woke up in the past, and the other is the point at which they left the future. Now fold that mental ribbon so that the future-point doubles back to align with the past-point.

Yes.

Let me just say that things are about to get knotted as all hell.

Naruto Uzumaki was a heavy sleeper. Once he conked out, you wouldn't be getting any response out of him. You could douse him with cold water, yell in his ear, march a parade through his bedroom, but he wouldn't wake up until morning.

And he was a slow-waker, too. Some people, once they opened their eyes in the morning, reached the maximum level of wakefulness pretty quickly.

Naruto was not one of those people.

He would wake up in a bleary, half-conscious daze every day, rubbing his eyes and yawning like there was no tomorrow. He usually spent his entire early morning in a fugue state, zombie-like and sluggish. Only once he got outside into the sunlight would he really perk up.

So it was understandable that he would, when waking up that morning, be only vaguely cognizant of his surroundings. That he would look at an expanse of pale flesh covered only by sheer white lace, feel long and silky locks of hair bundled up under his chin, or stare into pale, milky eyes and not register anything odd.

He might have been an indefatigable bundle of energy during the day, but in the time immediately before and after falling asleep and waking up, Naruto was effectively dead to the world.

Naturally, it took him a few minutes to process what he was looking at.

Hinata Hyuuga in contrast to Naruto, was a quick and early riser. When she woke up in the morning, she snapped into immediate wakefulness. Part of this was taught, but another part was natural inclination. Early morning was a time when she could feel at ease, free of pressure or scrutiny.

Of course, the Hyuuga family had a good share of early risers, but that was more out of necessity. Ninja had to be ready to move at a moment's notice – such lessons were drilled into their heads from youth, and reinforced by the demanding shinobi lifestyle.

Early riser wasn't necessarily the same as morning person. Many ninja, particularly among younger generations, willfully slept in whenever they could afford it, as such a luxury was rare on missions. They might have been capable of waking up early and waking up fast, but that didn't mean they had to like doing so.