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Chapter Text

Kami, Shikako is troublesome.   

Shikamaru had not been happy to realize that his sister had gifted the lightest shade of her shadow to her chronically late former-sensei.  It was a reckless move—one which brought her marriage prospects into short supply (down to one—only one) and prevented her from forming a traditional adoption bond to one of the few orphans brought into the clan.  The disregard to tradition which doing so showed was also a cause for trouble; not only did she not gain permission to do so beforehand, but she didn’t even explain to Kakashi what she was doing and the ramifications it would have on her if he didn’t live up to his side of the bond.  

He’d tried to confront her about her choice, tried to tell her that there must have been another way—a way which didn’t sacrifice her choices in the future.  Tried to tell her that now that she’d bonded the Hatake, he needed to be told, so that he wouldn’t let down the clan’s expectations (and Shikamaru’s expectations, too).  (If she’d really needed to shadow-bond to save his life, the man should pay her the respect of actually being in a proper relationship.)  But no.  She’d put off telling him, and with his dad supporting the decision, Shikamaru had had no way to intervene. 

(Oh—Shikako, why do you just. keep. sacrificing yourself for your teammates?  The Uchiha with the Tsukuyomi… facing Bijuu for Naruto… and now your future for a man with whom your feelings might never be returned.) 

And he’d been right to be worried.  

The longer there were no invitations for a wedding sent out, no announcement of a marriage… not even an externally visible change in their relationship—and all while the jounin was learning their clan techniques—Well.  Even the most unobservant Nara was eventually able to realize that it was Shikako who had no intention of more than just adoption.  (And really, what other conclusion could they have come to, when they were warned—just as he was—not to share the marriage side of shadow-sharing with the man.)

And that disregard to tradition had caused a hit to her reputation, beyond even what had been caused between herself and R&D, beyond even what placing her teammates first since her genin days had done for her.  (Perhaps even more than the obvious tension between himself and her that had been displayed for years.)  

He’d tried to get her to see.  But she’d tensed up, been defensive, and then walked away… presumably sleeping at her teammate’s—again. 

And now, Shikako’s distress at the tension between them had come to such a height that their father had cut into an argument between them.  Shooing Shikako out the door to meet up with Kakashi, his Head—his dad —then gestured him to his office to talk.

His dad settled them on chairs beside the bookcases, and looked on quietly as Shikamaru seethed.  Eventually though, his discontent could not be curbed and Shikamaru spoke, “She’s ruining her life, Otou-san.”  He flexed his fingers and his shadow roiled. 

“You’ve not been listening.”  Shikamaru stilled, closed his eyes, and forced every muscle in himself not to react.  He’d seen enough.  He’d heard her excuses.  He saw her pulling away from the clan, avoiding their presence.  And even worse; for every week… every month, that the Hatake was not told, the greater the chance that his anger at the deception would prevent him from doing right by her (and that chance was already too high).  And if she was not accepted by him—if she eventually married another.  She would be disowned.  No longer a Nara.  An outcast to the clan.  

He’d lose his sister.  

And he couldn’t.  He couldn’t stand that thought.  His only option was to make her see, make her actually work on her relations within the clan.  

The clenching of his jaw was visible to Shikaku, and his father breathed out a sigh.  “Shikamaru…”  He’d looked up at the man’s tired tone.  “You might have heard what she’s said… but you’ve not heard what she means.  And you’ve not fully understood the clan’s position—the pressure they’ve put on her.” 

He had though.  He knew how this would likely end.  

But… but if there was information he was missing… if there was another way to get through to her—

“What have I missed then?”  He bit out the question, his hands twitching partway into his thinking seal.

“You remember your vows?”  Of course he did!  He nodded.  “But do you remember hers? ”

He pushed aside the defensive responses, the concerns of her future that assaulted his mind, and thinking back, he recited, “I, Nara Shikako, do hereby swear, that to protect my teammates, the clan, those allied with us and Konoha itself, I will become one with the shadows.”  The prickling of understanding started within him, but he left it to percolate in hopes that his father would make his point.

Shikaku though, paused, forcing Shikamaru to provide at least a start to the answer.  After a moment, he responded, “She’s sworn herself to her teammates before the clan…”  And didn’t that sting, that their priorities had never fully matched.  He didn’t enjoy that thought—it proved that the distance between them had started even before the missions (and the danger, and the near death, and her temporary deaths) had widened the gap between them.

His dad must have sensed his growing distress, because he drew Shikamaru’s attention by speaking.  “She has,” he confirmed.  And then he tried to soften that blow, “She has, so far, done her best to look after our interests too—both her immediate family and the clan, even if she hasn’t pleased them much.  And I expect her to continue doing so, for as long as that doesn’t interfere with her other priorities, and so long as we let her do it without making simply interacting with us a trial.”  He hesitated briefly, then, before continuing, “I might have been wrong, when I told her that the clan would always stand with her.  But whatever her path—she needn’t lose us: Yoshino, Kino, me, and you.  We can always stand with her.”

“But if she’d just…”  

Shikaku firmly cut him off.  “No.  This might have been the one line that the clan won’t tolerate her crossing.  Do you not remember the story of just how I broke the previous engagement to marry your mother—and the consequences that had for me?  And I shared my shadow with her with her consent, with both of us aware of the responsibilities and commitment doing so could entail.  Shikako can claim no such adherence to tradition.”  Shikamaru looked at him intently.  That was certainly a thought—a bad one at that—but it didn’t really help clarify his sister’s perspective at all.

His dad shut his eyes, and the stress lines around his eyes crinkled.  “You wouldn’t see it unless you observed incredibly discreetly, but the clan.  They’re not being kind to her.”  What?  What does he mean?  

Shikaku opened his eyes, pinning him with his gaze.  “Most of their shadows feel hostile, Shikamaru, and I don’t doubt that she can sense that.  Practically every question, every interaction she’s a part of—there’s an expectation of a marriage announcement… or groveling, or something—always something more than she can give.  And when none of those appear, there are pointed criticisms, questions of her techniques, questions of her loyalty.  She’s already doing all she can—by avoiding them—so as not to escalate the tensions.”   Is—is that what she’s been doing?  Giving distance in an attempt to let tempers cool.  And the clan, what Dad’s describing—how—how could I have missed that?

The question must have shown on his face, because his dad answered, “The clan, when we’re around her—they’re much more reserved.  They expect that we are working to resolve the matter, so they leave her be.  I am… not surprised that you haven’t seen it.”  Shikamaru felt a stab of… something, at that statement.  Had he been so blind?  He was to be the future Nara head—it was his duty to see things from the clan’s perspective.  He’d thought he had, but he’d not realized that they’d become actively hostile towards Shikako.  She was one of them too.  What she had done—it shouldn’t be enough to treat her the way his father had described.  

Shikaku had continued, “Shikako couldn’t have done anything differently, and Kakashi is alive—so she refuses to regret the toll it has taken on her.  The clan has taken that resolve as a disregard for tradition…”  

Shikamaru let out a snort.  As though the origin of shadow-bonding wasn’t likely caused by a Nara who refused to let someone go.  A partner.  A child.  …A teammate is not so different—not when team-as-family is so strongly encouraged.

“Indeed.”  Shikaku agreed.

“I… I’ve not seen that happening,” Shikamaru had admitted.  He hated having to do so, confessing that his information had been so incomplete.  (He’d have to look into Shikako’s situation himself—see what her interactions were like outside of their presence…  And if it had become so bad,—it probably has.  Dad’s not one for exaggeration—where.  Where did that leave him?  How should he be trying to advise Shikako?) 

His dad made an affirming noise and a quiet settled between them as options and strategies spun uselessly within his head.  Most of the plans would likely end badly.  He didn’t know how—this… this was social and political, a battleground he had the least experience in (and one, he admitted to himself, that he was constantly failing at… at least when it came to protecting his sister.) 

Eventually, he looked up to his father, desperation wrapped up tight but unfortunately displayed by his question, “Can we even help her?”

Shikaku quirked a small smile, the sort he displayed when he was proud of the thought process his child was pursuing.  Shikamaru felt relieved.

“There is no forcing a marriage between them… and unless both of them grow into that role for each other, it might never come about.  But once Kakashi is in the know and remembers that he’s a clan head—they’ll have more options than just that.  …Assuming he doesn’t ignore the system and start upending social conventions, anyway.” 

Oh!   Shikamaru hadn’t even considered that sort of reaction; Kakashi is an elite enough shinobi that enlisting Maito Gai to run training drills through our clan grounds in retaliation… or other disruptions—that is something he could get away with.   (Given the man’s challenges with Gai, it was clear that Shikako’s Kage no Nakama was creative enough to be downright troublesome.)  He wasn’t sure he even wanted to try to brainstorm those possibilities. 

Setting that can of worms aside, his dad had just given Shikamaru a rather direct hint regarding how he was hoping to play the politics and paperwork of the situation.  Shikamaru’s fingers came together and his mind spun, recalling all the clan laws he could think of that might be relevant.  

Eventually, his eyes had gone wide and his hands went slack, “He’s honorarily adopted,” he breathed out.  “As a clan head, he could adopt her too.” 

Shikaku inclined his head, and a glimmer of pride peaked through, but he continued seriously, “We can support them as they strengthen the bond between themselves, but we can not push them about this.”

Shikamaru shot him an incredulous look.  They had the answer right there.  Why did they need to wait?

The Nara head looked at him with steel in his eyes.  “Aside from the fact that it would be incredibly rude to request such a thing from another Clan Head, they need time to get used to the idea of being bonded.  You’ve seen how skittish Kakashi is.  You’ve seen how cautiously Shikako proceeds with her established relationships.  This is no different.

“I cannot control the thoughts—the actions—of the clan as a whole.  And a time will come when they will push Shikako too far and Kakashi will not be able to continue politely looking away.  If she hasn’t already told him the marriage implications, I have no doubt that he’ll find out then—I might even tell him myself, if it comes to that.”

Shikamaru looked at his father quietly, embers of renewed appreciation sparking to life.  His father was good at this clan stuff.

Shikaku continued, “The stronger their bond is when that happens though, the better they will be able to work through the fallout.”

Realization rose in Shikamaru.  “That’s why you’ve been so encouraging of their relationship?”

His father looked towards the ceiling for a moment as he answered, absently tapping his fingers along the armrests of his chair, “The chances that the clan would accept the honorary adoption solution long term were never very high.  But they’re good for each other; she chose him, and he’s attached enough that his shadow accepted.  They will be shadow-bonded for the rest of their lives regardless.  …If she has to take another’s name, the Hatake’s is a good one—no matter what form of legal binding that might ultimately entail. ”  

Shikamaru stuttered at that statement, “But she wouldn’t.  She wouldn’t be a Nara.”  He understood—he really did—the angle his dad, his clan head, had been aiming for.  But he’d not thought.  He’d not realized that not-married and not-a-Nara, could be both possible and acceptable. 

“Shikako will always be your sister, Shikamaru,” Shikaku consoled.  He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before he cautiously added, “Ikoma was still my brother, during my brief time as a Kinokawa.  I… don’t know how aware the clan was of that fact, but the same will hold true, for you and Kino too.”

Shikamaru felt his breath catch in his throat and noticed his dad’s shadow moving to enfold his own.  He relaxed back into the chair he was sitting in, suddenly exhausted by everything.  Setting his hands into an easy thinking seal he ran through his priorities:

• Assess the clan’s hostility levels towards Shikako when other head-family members are not around.
• After confirmation of hostility… apologize for pushing with insufficient intel.  (He cringed at the thought of that one… but Shikako—she was the priority here.)
• Look for ways to undermine clan animosity towards Kako or, failing that, ways to lighten its effect.  (His reactions to this would depend on his findings for the first priority.)
• Look up paperwork and legislation regarding inter-clan adoptions to have ready when necessary.  (He might be forbidden from giving them the solution, but once they got to that point.  …He’d prepare the documents himself if he needed to.)

Shikamaru looked up as he felt his father’s hand come to rest upon his shoulder, and his dad looked down at him with compassion.  “You’ll both be fine, Shika.  I believe in you.”  Shikamaru swallowed the lump that had suddenly invaded his throat.  Blinking his eyes rapidly, he rose from his seat and turned into his dad’s embrace.

With his face tucked over Shikaku’s shoulder and his dad’s arms around him, he let out a sigh.  (It had been a while, since he’d accepted this sort of comfort.)  He gave his dad a tight squeeze, adding a “Thanks, Tou-san,” as he stepped away. 

Shikaku regarded him softly, before moving towards his desk.  “You know you’re always welcome,”  he said, settling himself to address clan paperwork. 

Shikamaru did nothing to suppress the quick smile that surfaced at that sentiment, and then he left the room. 

(It took months more before the situation with Shikako and Kakashi came to a head.  But after the dust had settled—after Shikamaru had seen the paperwork that Kakashi had presented to Shikaku on their behalf… He was glad that things had worked out as they had.)  

Troublesome.

Shikamaru looked back at the young Nara genin who’d been bold enough to ask him how long his sister had been married.  She wore her hair in a long braid and stars shown in her eyes.  (She might actually just want to know.)  

But this game had been going on for a while—years now—and he still remembered the snide remarks, the judgment, the scorn, and disdain.  The expectation that Shikako would give, and give, and give, and give: her time, her seals, her knowledge, and her techniques… while they acknowledged none of the risk, none of the effort she’d taken to develop them, nor the protection she provided them as an elite jounin.  (He had not realized how painful it would be to be so disappointed by his clan.  Though, in truth, it had felt worse when Ino had forced him to realize that he too had contributed to that stress—and unlike his older clanmates, he’d striven to mend the tie he’d so blindly frayed.) 

He loved his clan—he loved the Nara, but he would not give them this.  Operation: Prevaricating Payback is still in effect.  He ignored the genin, idly looking up at the clouds.  He was glad to have so many present to observe today, and he let his mind drift.  

Half an hour later, he glanced back to the spot the girl had been occupying and let out a sigh of relief.  She’d left.   

He didn’t particularly like talking the youngest ones into circles—not when many of them had retained a positive view of Shikako.  It was troublesome, but he saved that response for those older than himself.  

Fortunately though, the ones who truly looked up to her tended to ask only once, or not at all.  Hopefully that would be the case with that cousin as well.  (The implications of the girl’s braid leaned toward the positive, presuming that it’s presence was not just a ploy.)

Ugh—Shikako is so troublesome…

… but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.  

Chapter Text

Nara Yoshino

Yoshino sat on the back porch with Nara Mio, wedding plans for Mio’s daughter spread out around them.  They’d covered everything they’d intended to, regarding the coordination of participating clan members and the potential and preferred locations.  (She might always feel like she fits into the clan like a rectangle into a square, but this—assisting in wedding planning—was a role that she’d been able to fill.  And on her more cynical days, she wondered if they first let her fill it, because they’d wanted to dodge the work it entailed.)  

Given that their planning was wrapping up, Yoshino was not surprised by the turn of the conversation.  

(Ever since Shikako’s life saving gambit had paid off and she’d been accepted into Kakashi’s clan, the clan had clambered to know if Kakashi had adopted her daughter (a scandal on at least two fronts), or married her (startling in another way).  Shikako and Kakashi had been careful, among most, not to confirm either way. 

The lack of wedding invitations and announcement would suggest adoption (in which case, the clan could feel justified in their anger that the ‘intended’ use of shadow-bonding had been neglected), but the fact that there was an undeniable bond between the two, Shikako had added his name to her own, and they both resided within the Hatake clan compound suggested marriage.  

Yoshino wasn’t sure if the fact that Shikako still routinely crashed at their home or at Sasuke’s place was intended to muddy the waters, or if it was just a byproduct of wanting to be close to her immediate family or teammates after missions, but muddy the waters it did.  Practically every wedding she’d helped plan these last few years prompted this attempt at digging.  Most of the attempts had become quite transparent.)

“Ugh,” Mio groaned.  “This is shaping up to be more of an event than I’d expected it to be.  They both want to invite so many people… and to have to account for the merchant families they want there, and the fact that they’re often out of the village—it’s a nightmare to coordinate.”

Yoshino smiled slightly at the complaint, taking a sip of her tea.  Nara are all the same—things tend to become much less troublesome once they actually get done.  Despite the trouble it might have pushed Shikako towards, she was glad to have had one child who’d taken that lesson to heart. 

Mio continued, as Yoshino had suspected she might.  “Shikako’s wedding must have been a breeze to plan—a small event with just witnesses and paperwork.  Oh!  I certainly see how that would appeal to those two.”

Nara sometimes thought, even after all the decades she’d been married to their clan-head, that she might be the weakest link when trolling for their answers.  They often did not realize that despite her lack of ‘genius,’ Shikaku would not have been interested in a woman who didn’t seize life by the horns.  She was implacable in will and downright crafty when she needed to be.  (She’d honed those skills well, when she’d been without a clan’s resources.)  She’d been well aware of the trouble that would likely come calling, when Shikaku confided in her that Shikako had bonded with the Hatake.  

(The Nara had disowned her husband for his engagement to her.  And Shikaku had adhered to tradition, even if bonding in that way was a selfish act—an action he’d used to break an unwanted engagement, and a mutual commitment which neither regretted.  But the Nara had eventually taken them both in, welcoming Shikaku as clan-head when poor Ikoma had passed.  

Her daughter, though.  She’d used the bond in a selfless way, saving a teammate—a man as close as family—at great potential cost.  Yoshino had watched, as the clan had eventually turned on her, as the atmosphere and rumors surrounding Shikako turned more sour each day.  She could not describe the utter relief she’d felt, when Shikaku had shown her the paperwork which Kakashi had finally signed.

Since then, they—the two’s closest, Shikaku, Shikamaru, Kino, Sasuke, Naruto, Gai, and herself—had played out the plan that Kakashi and Shikako presented to them: Operation: Prevaricating Payback.  (Naruto had ribbed Shikako for her fondness of fancy words—told her she should either go the full mile and make both words fancy, or stick to “Operation: Confuse the Hell Out of ‘Em,” but Shikako had responded that she couldn’t think of a sufficiently fancy word that also started with 'P'.  Naruto had acknowledged the point.)  The plan was simple: just never clarify whether Shikako and Kakashi’s connection was of a romantic nature or not, and pretend that doing so wasn’t on purpose.  Simple, but effective—Kushina would be proud, especially of Naruto’s participation.  (Yoshino could well imagine her reaction—“HA! Stick it to the fogies—dattebane.”)  And Yoshino, herself—she was delighted and satisfied to have this way forward, of doing right by her daughter.

Yoshino’s own role involved careful wordplay—Gai, Sasuke, and Naruto had their own methods, but she was using vague phrasing and roundabout commentary.  (Learning that skill was a necessity, one she’d had to take great pains to learn—it was expected, though, for Nara, to imply multiple meanings at once.  And for this purpose she was happy to wield the skill as a shield.)  She let a smile bloom on her face, thinking back in fond remembrance about all the other times she’d answered in this way, “Humm… yes.  It was a private event—Kakashi taking Shikako into his clan.  It was sweet of him too, not to request she drop the Nara name.”  As Mio’s expression started to drift into disappointment, at the nothing she’d gained from that response, Yoshino continued, just to muddy the waters some more, just for her own satisfaction and amusement.  “It was probably a good thing we didn’t ask for him to hyphenate too.  Not adding that pressure to his adoption was surely what had him gifting her that leeway as well.”  That was somewhat a lie, she believed; Kakashi would have given Shikako the choice regardless of what they might have asked of him, but Yoshino didn’t need to tell that to them.

(Yoshino considered, for a moment, whether it might be good to extend the offer, to hyphenate if he so chose.  He likely wouldn’t, given that it represented the clan that was currently harassing Shikako and badmouthing them both, but he was part of her and Shikaku’s family.  Hm.  Perhaps offering the Kinokawa name?  She’d be willing—it would be a joy to have him—but on the other hand, that would be rather impolitic.  Perhaps there would be something else they could do, to show that they had accepted him as theirs?  The earrings, perhaps.  Though, they represented the oaths… but then, Shikako had handed over her genin earrings to Sasuke, so there was precedent, there.  She’d have to consult Shikaku about it.)

Yoshino gave a reassuring look towards her clanmate, satisfied at the chagrin that Mio was unable to hide.  And then she turned their attention back to wedding logistics.  “So, is Taro-kun looking to take the Nara name as well?  He is without an established clan…”  

When their discussion and tea eventually ran out, Yoshino helped stack the papers, keeping her own planner in hand.  She was happy with the progress they’d made…and pleased further that Operation: Prevaricating Payback was still in effect.  Perhaps I could get them both to come to dinner soon?   She mentally ran through what she’d need for gyoza.  (She knew Shikako loved the stuff, but would always shy away from the time it took to make and the clean up it required.)  Humm… I’d best pick up some eggplant too.

Uzumaki Naruto

The Nara kept talking.  

He’d not introduced himself before he started talking.  (And hadn’t Kako mentioned that that was rude?  Ero Sennin said so too...)  But he had to be a Nara—he kept using really big words (that can’t be necessary), and Naruto had been to the Nara clan grounds often enough to know that that pineapple hairstyle was definitely a clan thing.  So—Yeah, definitely a Nara.

The man might be trying to overwhelm him with his vocabulary, but Naruto had learned the trick of this (Kako had taught him!); he listened for the highlights. 

“...respective emergency contacts… reflective of a family joining… pursuant upon contractual reciprocity…”  Ah—so he’s on about that.  He’d already had this conversation with two other Nara… and that random non-clan chuunin.  Don’t they compare notes?

...Apparently not.  The man was still talking.

As he waited for his opening, Naruto stifled a yawn and wondered if the Nara’s laziness was catching.  He’d be okay though, he realized—he had training with his team that evening.  No way I’ll catch laziness when I’ll be working with Sensei, Sasuke, and Kako.  They’ll chase the laziness right out of me—dattebayo!

“...so can you clarify the marital status between Hatake Kakashi and Nara-Hatake Shikako?”  That’s my cue!

“WHAT!  Sensei and Kako might be MARRIED?!???”  He flailed his arms wildly, like he couldn’t believe it, and then lunged forward, shaking the man and spewing forth a torrent of questions.  “Why didn’t you just say that?!  How long has this been going on?!  Who knows about it?!  Why wouldn’t they tell me?!” 

At that last question, Naruto affected a gravely disappointed expression—carefully pressing the shaken man against the nearest wall so that he’d remain upright.  (He deserves to fall over, but, well.  Just ‘cause he’s been rude, doesn’t mean I have to be too.)   He slumped for a moment, wondering if drawing squiggles on the ground in a pout would be going too far. (Nah—I’ll save that for next time.)   

Instead, he visibly rallied, one hand on his hip and a fist in the air.  And, in mimicry of Lee, he announced, “YOSH!  They can’t keep this from me—dattebayo!  I’m gonna find out right now!”  And he ran off in a sprint, kicking up dust as he went.  

The still unnamed Nara watched dizzily as he disappeared down the road.

Once Naruto was sure that he’d disappeared from the Nara’s sight, he allowed his posture to slouch—just a bit—as he thought about his teammates. (It must be so uncomfortable to slouch all the time.  How do they do it?  He straightened back up.)  Sensei and Kako still didn’t want anyone to know—and they’d made a prank out of it too.  (Naruto was so proud of them for that.)   

And people kept asking him to clarify.  As though I’d be the one to ruin this prank!  Ha!  I wonder how much longer it’ll take them to realize I’m in on it?  For smart people… they really are being kinda dumb about this.  Now though—to tell Kako and Sensei about their latest attempt! 

And with that thought, he leapt to the roofs, eager to meet up with his team.

Uchiha Sasuke

They looked at Sasuke hopefully, like all their hopes and prayers rested on his answer.  (Like he’d give away his teammates’ secrets—their private information—after all the hassle they’d been put through.)  He knew his response, if positive or negative, would get around the village quicker than Maito Gai… but he also knew the correct response— 

(Trolling might be a team tradition, but the Uchiha had one too.)  

“Hn,” he turned around and walked away.

“Was that a ‘yes’?”

“A ‘no’?”

“WHICH WAS IT?”

As though I’d ever tell.  They really shouldn’t have badgered Sensei and Kako into this.   

He wondered how many more years they’d refuse to clarify.   

Well—I’ll just sit back to enjoy the show.  Being bothered about it occasionally is a small price to pay to appreciate the chaos they’re causing. 

He smirked as he walked away.

Maito Gai

Gai observed from a distance as his Rival and the most Youthful Shikako played with Kakashi’s pack.  Happiness bloomed within him at the sight; there was a time, not many years ago, that he’d believed that his Most Troubled Companion would find his death in his missions—that he’d take what reason he could most justify, to join those who had already passed.  

He’d been Concerned for years, as Kakashi had struggled without companionship, without his sensei, without a team unencumbered by masks, and with an eye of grief that was draining his life.  Gai had been relieved, when he’d been forced out of ANBU and ecstatic, when he’d taken on his team.  They were Promising, and Youthful, and Loyal from the get-go, burning brightly with their Passion and dedicated to Improving and Each Other… and, with Shikako in the lead, they’d wrapped themselves around his Rival, so tightly that he could not bear the wound pulling away would cause.

And his team—they’d pulled off a miracle.  Many miracles, in fact.  His Friend’s eye was fixed.  He’d claimed them as his.  They’d remained alive through impossible struggles and catastrophic foes.  And for them —with them— Kakashi had found a new will to Live.  

And this scene; two Hatakes.  A clan he’d thought would end with his Friend—it now contained another.  

He felt no shame for having wept after they’d shared with him of their bonding, and the ways that they’d Grown from there.  It was his Honor, to be in the Know, and he would Gladly assist them in their efforts for Privacy.  He too would participate in Operation: Prevarication, for as long as they both required it.

The last person to try for an answer hadn’t lasted a full half-day.  The man had fainted when, after hours of exercise, all Gai would say on the matter was “YOSH!  Their Flames of Youth must burn more Brightly than Ours!  We’re only TRAINING; they celebrate their Friendship and Comradery Regularly!  To share Names!  To share Families!  Come!!!  We Must Run Another Lap in Honor of their Commitment!”  The Nara in question had stumbled as he attempted to leave the field, and Gai had ensured he’d receive the treatment he needed.  (The hospital staff had only grumbled a little when he’d brought the unconscious man in.)  

It had been nearly a month since he’d last been asked.

He smiled brightly at the two Nara headed in his direction, wondering if they’d have the resolve to test the Commitment he’d made to his Friends.  They both shuddered, abruptly turning onto a sidestreet that he was certain contained a dead end.  Perhaps next time then, he thought, and he moved on at a run.

Random Nara Genin

Newly minted genin, Nara Aoki stifled a yawn.  He wondered, yet again, what kami he’d crossed to be assigned the team he’d been enlisted into: a shy Inuzuka (who’d have thought) and an over-eager civilian-born trap specialist in the making.  He’d almost laid  himself down to nap in protest when he’d realized that his cousin had been assigned the laid back Akimichi and the observant Yamanaka in their year… then he had remembered that as a Nara, he really didn’t need an excuse to nap.  (He’d proceeded to meditate until he’d fallen asleep, waking only when the trap-maker had gotten tangled in their own wire when their sensei had come to collect them.)

They were currently skimming through the census stacks.  It wasn’t information that was accessible without jounin oversight, but it also wasn’t considered particularly dangerous for a genin to actually know.  (It was guarded as it was, primarily to stop infiltration attempts from those who would seek to replace their citizenry.)  Their primary goal was to compile a list of all cross-clan marriages.  They didn’t happen very often—clans generally preferred to marry from within.  But barring that, orphaned non-clan ninja were the general preference.  

(It was a bit mercenary, but they were ninja, and that set of traits had the best chance to actually integrate into ninja-clan life; they didn’t have civilian familial expectations remaining to pander to, and their hitiate proved that they’d already integrated into the shinobi side of things.  And for them to catch a clan-ninja’s attention, they’d likely excelled in their chosen specialty, so there was a good chance they’d be bringing their own skills to bolster the clan as well.  At that point, clan expectations probably would not be beyond them.

Of course, the civilian side of clan ninja operated a bit differently.  There was more leeway for them to marry an out-clan civilian, justifiable by the farming, merchant, or medical connections that their spouse might bring in with them.  Non-clan ninja were still preferred, but few clans would snub the option to include proprietary civilian skills too.)

It was an interesting research topic, somewhat.  The Aburame had practically no extra-clan marriages; the few who’d married outside their clan—in the whole history of the village—were considered incapable of hosting a kikaichu colony, and they’d typically taken on the name of the clan they’d married into.  The Hyuuga, as a rule, did not marry out.  (And the few times it had occurred, were only allowed because one was blind in a way likely to be passed on to his children, and two were otherwise unable to procreate.)  Records of the Uchiha suggested that they had only allowed inter-clan marriages for their civilian branches… or to legitimize a bastard who’d already displayed their dojutsu’s inheritance.  (That had taken quite a bit of cross-referencing to conclude… But the Elders just want a list, so it’s not a detail I’ll bother to include in the report.  …Yeah—volunteering additional information.  That seems like a good way to get tagged for extra work—and humph.  No.  I don’t want that.)   

The Kurama were nearly all civilian now, and the lack of ninja among them had the other clans shying away hard— none wanted to risk whatever malady had afflicted that clan… The Sarutobi, Senju, and Shimura seemed rather equal-opportunity in the marriages that they allowed, (though they all contained the expected degrees of bias for the pairings to be advantageous).  The Sarutobi and Senju had dwindled, though, having allowed too many of their clan to marry out (for the sake of alliance stability) near the founding of the village and in the years that followed.  The Shimura were aggressively strict about prospective spouses only marrying in, and that lack of give had kept all the greater clans away. 

The Inuzuka probably matched the Nara, in how many out-clan marriages that they allowed. (And doesn’t that have interesting implications, about the balance of  nature vs nurture in the use of their techniques.)  That statistic didn’t count intermarriages within the Nara–Akimichi–Yamanaka alliance though; those were in a category all of their own.  (There were many intermarriages between the alliance, but the way for that was eased by the fact that they’d had nearly two hundred years of precedent.  None of the clans felt their techniques to be threatened if a child of a mixed-clan marriage ended up showing traits of the clan who’d married in.  (In those cases, any further training in the clan arts that they had no affinity for was stopped, the child would quietly be given their mother’s maiden name, and the training in that clan’s arts would proceed.))

The Hatake were a bit of an anomaly among the clans, actually.  They had a long history of their members finding their life-partner, living together, and forgoing ‘marriage’ if the other clan couldn’t be made to approve.  (Roughly sixty years ago, at least one of those barren Hyuuga had taken the Hatake name.)  (Really though, what did the Nara elders hope to gain, by pulling the wolf’s tail?  With this as the Hatake’s historical precedent, and Shikako-san’s history of social retribution—did they really think harassing their clan-head’s daughter was the way to push through a marriage?  Or was it just a matter of obsession or pride, at this point?  Humm… some mix of each, most likely.) 

If they had asked Aoki’s opinion—which, of course, they never did—he’d tell them that they should just leave the two alone.  It was clear that the longer they were pushed, the more they’d double down not to tell.  Aoki quirked a small smile when he saw the henohenomoheji graffitiing the records of Hatake clan marriages.  Its presence gave notice that the large blocks of text had been blocked out with approval.  The blocked out texts went back nearly fifty years.  A note had been added to the bottom of the page, in chicken scratch writing—barely legible, inviting any who had justifiable interest to appeal to the Hatake’s clan head for their records.  (The Nara snorted. That was some impressive passive aggression on Kakashi-san’s part.)

As he’d expected, his team would not be successful in completing their second objective; learning the relationship status of Hatake Kakashi and Nara-Hatake Shikako was not going to happen by them.  It’s been two years—why do the elders keep assigning these sorts of D-ranks?  Practically all the records that a genin could have access to have been combed through repeatedly.  

Aoki thought back to all the cousins who, as new genin themselves, were assigned (and failed) this mission, and he could only be thankful that the Hokage had ruled that, in this mission alone, partial success and fair effort constituted mission completion; she’d said something about it being unreasonable to expect a genin team to succeed when so many chuunin and jounin had failed.   (And with that sort of declaration, he consoled himself, we will be in good company for failing.  We’ve done enough to justify our mission payment.)  

With that thought, Aoki refiled the scrolls and documents and files he’d made use of, conscientiously stepping over the tripwires and triggers that his teammate had laid out when boredom for their task got the better of him.  He didn’t know where that teammate had gotten off to, but as he wasn’t there, Aoki didn’t particularly care.  (Sensei probably has eyes on him, anyways.)  His Inuzuka teammate was sleeping with her cheek on the dull documents she’d been set to read.  Her ninken was in a similar state upon her lap.  He quietly shuffled the scroll out from under her, checked its contents, and reshelved it appropriately.  (The girl clearly had her priorities straight, and rewarding such activity seemed the right thing for a good teammate to do.)

Checking that he had the list he’d compiled of inter-clan marriages within his pocket, he scaled the nearest bookcase.  He’d made an acceptable attempt, and now he had the time before his sensei and wayward teammate would return;  he’d nap atop the stacks.  Being out of direct eye line would allow him to wake up before his teammate was given the task of waking him.  Troublesome, they’re all troublesome, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep. 

Senju Tsunade

Tsunade twirled her pen, idly wondering when the two jounin would make it to her office.  She’d been tempted to summon them via ANBU seal.  They’d have come promptly, sure.  But the implications there—it would have set entirely the wrong mood for her to gain the information she hoped to obtain.  

(Tsunade tried to only call on her ANBU operatives as their ANBU selves when it was relevant to that role, and to keep ANBU-stuff out of talking to her unmasked operatives.  Separation of roles was better for their mental health (and for maintaining infosec), and doing otherwise, in certain situations, would be abusing her authority over her ANBU.  Bat and Wolf would likely be unaffected by such a thing, but they’d be aware of it, and she’d lose their respect… at least by a few degrees.  And this wasn’t worth that.)

It was an hour later than she’d have preferred and three hours less than she’d dreaded when the Hatake and the Nara-Hatake appeared at her window sill.  Precocious, the both of them… but to be only an hour late—she’s been a good influence on him, even if they’re both now using the window.  She sighed.

“Get in here—the both of you!” she ordered, doing little to hide her exasperation with the two.  Given their skills—given their loyalty, there’s little need to put up a front for this exchange.

As the two entered she gave quick signs dismissing her guards.  Tsunade flashed the sign for S-rank for good measure, causing Kakashi and Shikako to both sharpen, the Nara-Hatake straightening and the Hatake slouching further while assessing each exit.  She then activated the privacy seal underneath her desk.  Shikako clearly sensed the action, as she tapped another layer of privacy into existence as well.  (Few others could get away with setting seals in her presence without her explicit permission, but just as few routinely got tangled up in the sort of messes that required that level of secrecy either—Jiraiya and the Lucky Sevens—that’s it.  The girl was well justified by precedent, to be setting the seals she did.)

As Kakashi straightened, making no move towards his book, and Shikako stood at relaxed attention, Tsunade narrowed her eyes at them.  How to put this?

“The two of you are causing me an absolute headache, and no amount of sake is enough to make up for it.”  

They both shifted slightly, intentionally not looking at each other.  I’ll see if I can’t change that.

“One of my clans is in an uproar, and I’ve got other clans asking why.  The Nara elders have a series of D-rank record-search-and-find missions clogging up the books; I’ve had to insist that the doing of them results in payment, regardless of the chronic failure of teams in pursuit of the secondary mission goal.”  The slight shifting was starting to look more like actual twitching at that point.  “Naruto is routinely putting on a show across the village.  People are crying in Sasuke’s wake.  Gai is testing the ‘Youthful Endurance’ of the Nara clan, despite the hospital and the Yamanaka not needing more work.  And that’s not even getting into the acts of ‘constructive retaliation’ that the two of you have produced.”  She’d never thought she’d see a herd of fawns competing with a pack of dogs to teach etiquette before—but Kami—she had now.   (She reflexively checked her physical genjutsu—they were going to drive her hair grey, if it wasn’t already.)  Their twitching was full on shuffling now, and she’d swear that Shikako was using all her composure not to break her privacy seal and run.  If she did, Tsunade had no doubt that Kakashi would be right behind her.  Best to get to the point now.

“I have little doubt that you’ve a ‘righteous reason’ for your actions… But, if I’m going to put up with the absolute chaos you two are causing, I damn well should be in on the secret.”  She gave them an intractable look, quietly taking pleasure in the expressions of shocked recalibration the two of them didn’t have the wherewithal to stifle. 

Slowly, the two blinked in concert, turning to look at each other.  I knew I’d drive them to it.

A series of shoulder and facial twitches followed, an occasional hand sign was tossed in as well.  Eventually, Shikako shrugged and Kakashi slouched, both sharing a final meaningful look.

The girl took up negotiations.  “You—you’ll keep it a secret, right?”  The fawn eyes wouldn’t be enough to get Tsunade to agree, but the trust that both were clearly extending, to bend to her own request over something that was ostensibly a clan matter—That is worth honoring.

Tsunade met both their eyes and then nodded once, sincerely.  “I trust you’ve got good reasons.”  The statement was both olive branch and prompt, and Shikako took it as such.  

A sharp grin flashed across her features as she started, “Well…”

—

Later, Tsunade hid a grin as her two elite (and troublesome) jounin leapt from the window of her office.  Kakashi sent a “Ja ne,” accompanied by a wave, while Shikako shared a playful smile of her own.  

As her guards took their places in the ceiling and the corners, Tsunade was inordinately glad that she’d had the good sense not to put a bet on the two.  The odds were never in her favor.

Chapter Text

Pranking?—No; this is Social Justice.

Shikako and Kakashi played a game of stealth-tag throughout the village, chasing each-other through shops, training grounds, and their clan compounds alike.  Only the most observant of their fellow jounin could make note of their passing and, each time, Shikako or Kakashi would allow their stealth jutsu to flicker, just long enough to be identified properly, before continuing their game.  (They were training, sure.  But it remained more fun if they didn’t inadvertently cause alarms to be raised.)

When their game lulled for a moment, they met upon a rooftop near the Nara clan grounds; Shikako had managed to evade his pursuit for her allotted time, though she had definitely cheated with her use of shadow state.  Kakashi wasn’t going to call her on it though—he’d made use of shadow-state too, to bypass a few obstacles.  (He felt… just a tiny bit bad, about the civilian who’d screamed about dark spirits and ghosts, when they’d passed through the upper room of her shop.  Stealthing as a shadow required a slightly different bag of tricks than the usual ANBU package tended to entail.  A constant work in progress.)  But before they could outline the rules for Kakashi’s turn for evasion, both their attention was caught by a conversation between two Nara passing by on the street below;

“... I’d like to know—sure, but pressing them is clearly not the way to go about this.”  

This again?

“You think we should send them a manual about how to do the deed?  A pregnancy would prove that they’re married, right?”  The male Nara’s companion’s eyes went wide and she looked around in alarm.  This prompted him to do the same, but both showed their relative inexperience by not even bothering to look up.  

Good instincts… even if the application of them is severely flawed.  Kakashi fought down the anger that that statement invoked, glancing discreetly at Shikako in concern.  Her lips had thinned and she’d gone stone-still.  

“Shhhhh!  You can’t just say stuff like that.  And besides, he reads those Icha Icha books all the time, and it would be foolish to think she hasn’t too.”  The female Nara snorted before continuing,  “With him as an example, and Jiraiya-sama’s occasional presence, it would take a saint not to become curious as a teen—and she is certainly not that.  But regardless, she’s a Hatake now too—it’s not our business if he fails to continue his clan.”  

The male Nara scoffed before changing the topic. 

Kakashi clenched his fist.  That—that had been exceptionally rude.  And they’d not even had the courtesy, to keep such talk behind closed doors.  He looked again at Shikako; there was a lot, in what they’d just overheard, which could have picked at her wounds.  (It had scalded him too, but her state was his priority.)

Shikako had unconsciously hugged herself, her fingers digging into her elbows.  He couldn’t tell by her expression if she’d become lost in her insecurities or was planning their downfall already.  Regardless, he reached out, his light fingers prompting her to loosen her too-tight grip.  

Her gaze refocused on him in increments, a little bit lost, a touch chagrined, somewhat expectant, and a large part questioning.  He crinkled his eyes in an expression that meant “I’m going to smile while I fuck someone up.”  He’d primarily used it when confronting the petty traitors he’d been set to eliminate and politicians who’d taken to screwing over their own people.  Somehow it felt appropriate for taking down the two who had stirred such negative feelings in his fellow clanmate.  

“I know their names?” Shikako offered.

“Nara-kun was a chuunin, but Nara-chan probably never made it beyond genin,” Kakashi supplied.  Shikako could have deduced that herself (the chuunin vest had been a dead giveaway), but such a statement would confirm that he was in.  

She flashed him a mischievous grin, tapped a privacy seal upon the roof, and removed two zabuton, paper, and ink from her hammerspace.

Now comfortable, they settled in to plot. 

—

Over the course of Operation: Prevaricating Payback, Shikako and Kakashi had made sure that any retaliation that they’d orchestrated was proportional to the offense that had been committed.  If comments were simply persistent and annoying, the offender was likely to have all items in their workspace moved a couple centimeters outside of where they’d originally been left.  If comments were more pointed, but would also offend others, they’d gotten quite good at provoking a repeat of the comment near the person liable to react with righteous anger.  

So far, two unfortunates had found out that using the word ‘bitch’ negatively near any Inuzuka was liable to result in a brawl.  And a further three had learned that disregarding social etiquette—without just cause—and in the presence of Ebisu-sensei would result in a humbling lecture.  (After gaining his full jounin promotion, the man had continued to spearhead the improvement of Konoha’s lower-ranked ninja forces… and he had always been one for propriety besides.)  Remarks regarding “duty to one’s clan” were unsafe to repeat near Yuuhi Kurenai.  And UnYouthful Badgering was treated by a Most Youthful Run… to properly direct the Springtime of their Energies, of course.

Even Anko and Ibiki had gotten in on the act at one point.  (Shikako had sworn that she’d not intended that particular occurrence.  And Kakashi only mostly believed her.)  But, apparently, if one didn’t watch both their words (and their company) when planning to “...break into the clan head’s house [of both the Nara and the Hatake]… to force the answer out of them,” one might be interrogated for potential treason against Konoha.  (That particular team had spent a week with T&I, were put on probation by the Hokage, and, having proven themselves a bad influence on each other, were banned from taking team missions together ever again.)

—

For this latest offense, and one which had contained such poignant implications, (when, how, and whether they chose to expand their clan was nobody’s business but their own), Shikako and Kakashi had somewhat regretted having already made use of Operation: Summons Showdown—the Fawn vs Pack etiquette lessons.  The amount of chaos that that had caused had been downright cathartic.  

But Operation: Slow Siege would have to suffice.  They had not yet had to break out its like:  

—

Naruto was enlisted for the first wave.  He was known, even now, for his pranks—though they’d morphed from his younger years; instead of retaliation, they were more often used to make people smile.  (He was still a ninja though—the shift in the mood of his pranks made complaints about targeting much less substantiated.  Especially so,  since his shadow clones had become so good at clean-up after his larger exploits.  And the impotent anger of his actual target, as the crowd laughed and he played the helpful youth…  Glorious.  Kakashi was glad that Sensei’s kid had grown so well.) 

—

Sasuke was tagged in next.  For Naras Habiki and Hachi to say such things in public… well.  They might be dense enough not to realize that they were Naruto’s targets. 

Kakashi took pleasure in relaying both the plan and the words which had provoked it; Sasuke’s mouth had thinned in anger and, despite his stony face, his eyes had flashed red briefly.  (Attached as he was to his teammates and with his clan dwindled down to one, there were portions of that conversation that were personal to him too.)  

Proving his priorities, Sasuke gave a once-over to Kakashi’s form while asking, “Kako’s alright?”  

Kakashi was glad Sasuke had not asked after his own state directly, but he answered the concern nonetheless.  “Yes—we’re fine.”

Sasuke nodded, his gaze knowing.  “I’ll take care of it then.”

(Kakashi found out later that Sasuke had not just re-ordered every book in their household, but had also moved their furniture two inches to the left and mixed up all the ingredients in their kitchen.)

—

While their teammates played distraction, Kakashi and Shikako got to work.  Kakashi tracked down hand-writing samples for the two while Shikako scoured the available missions.  She later reported that she’d been in luck.  A three month mission to Mist was present and they’d yet to fill the team.  Nara Hachi’s mission record had suggested that scribe was within her skill set, so Shikako had added her name for that prospective team.  She’d also added a note that an additional briefing might be needed, considering the… delicacy of the politics, of the still recovering clans at that location.  She was sure that Shikamaru would be up for giving that lecture.  (Kakashi did not doubt it—once her brother had finally gotten his priorities straight regarding his sister, he’d become quite the fine ally to have.) 

With sufficient writing samples recorded in his sharingan, Kakashi set about helping Nara Habiki fill his time—the man was sure to be lonely with his wife out of town for so long, after all, and the academy was always looking for teachers to fill this sort of role; he signed Habiki up to give the Talk.  

(The academy sensei had found that bringing in a teacher for that lesson, one whom the students didn’t see every day, served a twofold purpose; guest speakers often meant something interesting and so the children paid more attention… but also.  It was an embarrassing talk to give, and, well—if their primary sensei was the one to give the lecture—they’d found that the students would have trouble looking them in the eye for a week.  And it was best to avoid that.) 

Covering his bases, Kakashi shifted his writing to that of a desk-nin noted for her conscientiousness and wrote the following note; “Chuunin Habiki expressed concern about his suitability to give this talk, but implied the potential for adoption in his near future.  He’ll be embarrassed, but teaching him how to give the lecture and providing appropriate source material is recommended, and something he’ll appreciate later.”  Kakashi stuck the note, sealed for Iruka, atop the paperwork for that particular D-rank mission.  Iruka-sensei was sure to see it before notifying the man about the date of his lectures.

—

With their response underway, Shikako and Kakashi settled back to observe.  Over the next few months, the mortification that Habiki emanated each time he left the academy was satisfying in a soul-deep way.  And, once Hachi returned, her complaints for such a long mission proved an amusement in its own turn.

However, as slow as they were about it, both Nara had learned their lesson; neither Kakashi nor Shikako heard a peep from them ever again.

Despite the fun they could have with their retaliations, Shikako and Kakashi were relieved that the harassment of them died off soon afterwards.  

—

Shikamaru never told them, but. Well—two years was more than enough.  He had called a clan meeting.  He had compiled every incident he’d heard about, and each one he’d helped react to, and outlined just how little they’d achieved—how counterproductive—the clan’s actions had been: the hit to their reputation.  The fact that they’d become a source of amusement.  The fact that it was clear that the Hatakes would not bend.  And topped it off with the fact that it was unnecessary—to continue for the sake of stubbornness and pride.  Because of their actions, all other clans were on the Hatakes’ side.  And thus being the case, he’d ordered them to stop.  

He was relieved when, for the most part, they had.  There was still the occasional grumble, ones voiced privately and inside one’s own home, and the elders ordered a D-rank twice a year in token protest, but the older generations finally held their tongues. 

Slice of Life

Kakashi and Shikako stealthed through the training ground, dodging deer and dogs as they went.  The goal was to use only shadow and stealth jutsu while transporting a salt lick and rack of ribs across the training field.  With the deer and the dogs collaborating, and with their jutsu repertoire so sharply reduced, it was a more difficult task than it would otherwise be.

Kakashi flickered out of shadow state, launching the rack of ribs across the clearing to be caught by Shikako, before blending back into the shadows of the trees.  He followed closely behind her, occasionally stalling the pack by letting his scent appear again as a distraction before once again disappearing.  (It had taken him a while, to get the trick of holding a four-legged creature in a shadow possession jutsu, but that skill proved useful too.)

Eventually, as the pack and deer converged upon them a final time, the two of them crossed into the next training field, and in doing so won their competition.  To quiet the disappointment being voiced by their summons, Kakashi went to place the salt lick on the ground while Shikako adroitly carved up and passed out the ribs that she’d been carrying.

Once their summons had taken their fill, the deer tossed their heads, expressed the wish to train again soon, and then dismissed themselves.  His pack, as usual, were more demanding.  They required final scritches from both himself and Shikako before they too took their leave.  Pushy, the lot of them.

As the final summons poofed out of existence, Shikako met Kakashi’s still amused gaze.  She looked happy and content, and Kakashi’s eyes shifted into a fond smile in response. 

“You ready to go home then?” she asked, starting towards the Hatake estate.  (They’d not moved into the main house—Kakashi was still pained by the thought of it—but shared one of the three bedroom homes that had required only moderate repair.  Most of the others had been torn down and a forest covered most of the grounds now.)

“Mah—I guess we’d better,” he replied, keeping pace with her.  Sasuke and Naruto had declared they’d be there for supper, take-out in hand, whether Shikako and Kakashi were present or not.  “Last time was messy enough that I’d prefer to avoid that again.”

She chuckled in remembrance.  “Orange really isn’t Sasuke’s color,” she agreed.  “And Naruto was inconsolable that that much ramen had been wasted.”  

“Dramatic, the both of them,”  Kakashi deadpanned.  And then he asked, “They’re still not keyed to the nuisance security seals then?”

“Humph,” Shikako sniffed, her lips twitching in betrayal of her serious tone, “the practice is good for them.”

Kakashi quietly picked up his pace.  He might be immune to those seals, keyed to them as he was, but he knew that Shikako had a habit of relocating the seal triggers… and if those two showed up early—The couch still smells like ramen, he mentally lamented.  

Shikako noticed his distress—of course she did.  But he forgave her her laughter when she instigated a playful race home.

Kakashi allowed himself to embrace the moment, trying to trip Shikako with a stray shadow so that he could pass her.  

He had not once regretted adding her to the Hatake Clan registry.  

And, right now and for this moment—life was good.