Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waking up in a body not your own, in an unfamiliar place, is an experience so intrinsically wrong and disturbing that it took me an embarrassingly long time to bring my mind back from the white noise it had been stuck on. When I finally calmed down enough to try and figure out what was happening, I was struck by the fact that my hands were small and pudgy and I couldn’t even lift my head. After I realized that i was a fucking baby, oh my god what, I had a small mental breakdown. Understandable, if you ask me, seeing as I had previously been a 21 year old American girl. 

It got weirder. As I grew, I spent a lot of time indoors, and it wasn’t until I was about three years old that I saw the village I was born into. The fictional village. The one with Hokage faces on the side of a mountain. 

Fuck .

Thus were the humble (second) beginnings of Brick Lee, Konoha’s number one wildest ninja. 

--

Learning a new language from scratch is difficult, but being thrust into a new existence tends to be pretty sink or swim. So I learned Japanese. Fast. However, learning the language and connecting the dots about your own name are different things. Who expects the english sounding “brick” being bandied about to be applied to you, let alone be your name? Who names their daughter Brick, anyways? Hina and Stone Lee, apparently. Unfortunate naming system aside, I couldn’t complain about my new parents. Hina was a doting mother, and Stone was pretty relaxed about all of the trouble I caused them. Which was a lot. I was an adult trapped in a child’s body, there was no way I was sitting still and pretending to learn how to do basic human functions. Hina, bless her heart, was a bit clueless about a child’s normal development, and didn’t have any friends with children who she could compare to. So I was free to progress at my own pace, and by god I did. Soon, I was three, then five, then six, and a second earth shattering surprise knocked me off my feet. Lee had been a familiar name, niggling at my memory, but I figured it was a common surname in Konoha. Nope. 

Rock Lee was born november 27th, when I was six years into my new life. Up until that point, I was content in my obliviousness, preferring not to know when in the timeline I happened to be, besides the general guide the number of faces on the mountain gave me (there were four). I was living one day at a time, rather than worry about the plot of a anime I saw years ago, that might not even apply to this iteration of Konoha. All of that changed when my younger brother was born. Suddenly, I was uncomfortably aware of the future challenges the precious little dude in my arms was going to go through. That all of Konoha was going to go through. 

Oh god. I had been wasting time. There was a literal goddess planning world domination and I had been pulling pranks and annoying our neighbors for the past six years. I wasn’t ready. But, gazing at the infant in my arms, I promised that I would be. 

“Hey dad? I’d like to join the Academy”. 

--

Inuzuka Hana had been looking forward to this moment her entire life. She was finally starting the academy! It seemed like forever of waiting, but she was here! The academy was a large building that she had passed so many times with her mother, but today it looked different. More majestic. Maybe that was just because the fourth hokage was giving a speech. It didn’t matter. Looking over at the kids who would be her future classmates, Hana was startled to see so few fellow clan members. There was an easily recognizable Aburame a few feet away, and a blonde haired kid who might be a Yamanaka further down. Oh! There! There was a boy with jet black hair who was wearing the Uchiha crest and was that the Uchiha heir holy crap. Hana was the daughter of the Inuzuka clan head, but the Uchiha were practically royalty. She was so distracted by the Uchiha she almost missed the girl that squeezed in line next to her. She had wild, thick, tangled black hair and the biggest eyebrows Hana had ever seen. Her eyes were almond shaped and a very pretty green, though, and they softened the harsh lines of her face. 

Embarrassed, Hana realized she had been staring and had missed half of the fourth’s speech. She quickly turned away and listened attentively, super excited for her first day of classes.

--

Hana had never looked forward to anything less than she did school. Not only was class boring and hard work, but her classmates were insane. Well, maybe just the few. The Yamanaka, Hide or something, was a bully who liked to pick on the civilian kids, the Uchiha heir was quieter than the average Uchiha (and that was saying something), and the weird civilian girl from the line that first morning was absolutely nuts . It was only the second week and Brick Lee was already making trouble. It all started with the Yamanaka cornering her at lunch a few days ago. Hana had been inspecting the trees for a good one to climb when she overheard the Yamanaka loudly confront her.

“What’s up with your hair, huh, Brick ? Were you born with a mop on your head or something?” he was laughing. Hana was about to go over there and do something, when the quiet girl responded back without a hint of hurt on her face. 

“I’m sorry. Who are you again?”

The boy flushed red. Hana was secretly glad that someone else couldn’t remember his name either. “Its Itsuo!” he spluttered, angry. Brick’s eyes looked him up and down, before turning away dismissively. 

“Okay, Isao”

“ITS ITSUO”

And thus, the war began. 

--

Uchiha Itachi regretted being smarter than the average six year old. Not only was school simple and underwhelming, but it meant he noticed things he’d rather not. Their teacher was having an affair on his boyfriend with the chuunin that ran paperwork. The Aburame had a phobia of germs. And Brick Lee was the weirdest fellow genius in the Elemental Nations. Well, he assumed she was a genius. There was no way she was anything but, what with the way she seemed to breeze through certain subjects like math and science. It was almost like she knew it all before the teacher taught it. Even Itachi at least needed to be told the material once to know it. Brick Lee just seemed to know. Except, not everything. Her knowledge of some subjects seemed so effortless that Itachi was surprised she wasn’t part Nara. Yet she struggled with some simple shinobi concepts. 

At first he excused it due to her being from a civilian background, but after a while he noticed the other civilian kids didn’t have the same difficulty. What was so hard about chakra theory? Itachi was starting to think she didn’t even know how to use it. Preposterous. Everyone did, even civilians could and did use chakra in small everyday affairs. But Brick Lee didn’t seem to. 

Uchiha Itachi was intrigued. 

Not enough to prevent him from graduating early, after only six months of the academy, though. 

--

The academy’s terms ran from December to May, with a small break in May before starting back up again through the summer until late October. This meant that my rather dramatic declaration to my parents about going to school was fortunately timed: a couple weeks later and I would have missed the sign up for December. The schedule was weird to me, but after some quick research at the library I learned it was an administrative leftover from civilian schools, where kids needed off for the traditional planting and harvest seasons.

Having school practically year round was a little grating, but made sense. Shinobi don’t exactly believe in 3 month summer vacations.

School was... well, it just was. Sitting through basic arithmetic and science was mind numbing, but history was at least interesting as it was new to me. The kunoichi classes were practically useless to me, so I pretty much slept through them. Why would I need to know flower arranging? The teachers couldn’t get mad, though, since I did well on tests anyways. The only thing giving me trouble was the fucking ninja magic bullshit called chakra.

I couldn’t understand how to use it! I could feel it, kind of hard not to when you’re used to a world without it, but I didn’t know how to mold it. It just sat there, humming under my skin. If I focus on it for too long it almost feels like that pins and needles sensation after your leg falls asleep. Still, knowing something is there and actually using it are two different things. Imagine waking up with a tail and trying move it, only the tail is a mysterious force.

Because of my... issues... with chakra, I focused on my body, trying to build up all the endurance and speed my little six year old body could handle. I was wary about training with weights or otherwise attempting to build muscle mass, as I was pretty sure that was bad for developing bodies.

Therefore, days were spent in classes, training, and annoying the ever loving shit out of Yamanaka Itsuo.

Hey. He started it.

Besides, the kid was so easy to rile up, and while teasing him made his anger skyrocket, things never escalated into violence. Did I feel bad about picking on a kid mentally years younger than me? Nope.

Outside of Itsuo, my classmates were an interesting mix of fellow civilians, clan kids, and a couple honest to god canon characters. Yeah. Imagine walking into school and seeing genius clan killer and villain-hero-tragedy Uchiha fucking Itachi . Oh and Inuzuka Kiba’s older sister was a surprise. I was a little glad when Itachi graduated early. Looking at his face was making me a little sad and a little terrified at the same time. Eventually, though, I got used to sharing my days with children, and the first year passed quickly enough. I even managed top rankings after Itachi wasn’t around to fill the top spot. 

--

After I turned seven, and passed my first year of the Academy, and just before little Rock Lee turned one, the worst night of my Second Life came. After all...

Hell hath no fury like a Kyuubi scorned. 

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of large scale tragedies, often times people will recount to each other where they were that day when it happened or when they heard the news: “I was at work, in a meeting, when it happened” or “I was in science class when the teacher turned on the news”. It becomes a collective memory, a collective experience in the minds of many. 

The night of October 10th, I had been walking through the south market district on my way back home from a late errand Hina had sent me on. One moment I was passing a restaurant- the smell of grilled meat, and spices- when there was a split second of terror in my bones and then suddenly the thick, heavy, malevolent chakra of the kyuubi filled the air. The eggs in my hand dropped, forgotten, and I ran. I was panicking, stumbling, I couldn’t even breathe the air was so heavy with chakra. 

I forgot.

I forgot.

Oh, the kyuubi attack had been in the back of my mind, I knew it was something that HAPPENED, but when it happened? I thought I had more time! Who remembers obscure trivia like the dates of fictional events they read about years ago? Jesus I was a fool. I had to get home, towards my parents, towards my baby brother. 

I ran. 

… right into Yamanaka Itsuo. We both stumbled, surprised, as dust and smoke swirled between us. His blonde hair looked silver in the moonlight. There was a moment of silence before we both started running again, in the same direction. Did he live near me? Why didn’t he live near the Yamanaka district? It didn’t matter. We ran. Between us there was only the sounds of shaking breaths, but around us? Konoha was a cacophony of screams, glass shattering, jutsu flying, and shouting voices. Above it all was the ear splitting shrieks of the kyuubi’s rage. Luckily, it seemed to be on the east side of the village, but looking at the size of it against the horizon, I knew it could traverse that distance in seconds. The ground shook with each of its steps. 

I realized then that we were being idiots: in the event of a disaster, civilians, the young, and the elderly would be heading towards the shelters at the base of the hokage mountain, west of us, and opposite the village from kyuubi. 

“Itsuo!” I shouted. There was a flash of surprise on his face, before I quickly grabbed his arm and jerked us to the left. He started to pull away but I held firm. “We need to go to the shelters. It’s where our families will be, and where we should be.” I explained between ragged breaths. All of the fight went out of him at that, and we continued on. However, children have small legs and little endurance, and we were no exception; the dead sprint quickly turned into a jog, then a fast walk. Konoha is deceptively large, and it didn’t help that normal routes would often be blocked by a toppled building, forcing us to either backtrack and go around or to climb through the rubble.

It was at one of those impasses that we found the kid, maybe 14, genin by the looks of him. Me and Itsuo were just dropping down from an exposed wall when I saw a pale hand against the dark ground. My eyes followed it up the arm and to the shoulder it belonged to- I had to hold in a shout- I’d almost stepped on his exposed ribcage. It looked like part of the wall had collapsed on him, crushing the lower half of his body. Itsuo, wondering why I stopped, turned back and his eyes widened so far I saw the whites of them. We made eye contact, and slowly moved on, spurred into action by another wave of chakra from the kyuubi. I’m quietly surprised it’s the first body we encountered. 

We eventually make it to the shelters. A couple blocks away, an Uchiha Military Police officer searching for citizens spotted us and ushered us into shelter B. Despite what was happening to the village, the shelter was relatively calm. Aside from the low murmur of conversation, children crying, and bodies shifting echoing in the large space, the shelter was quiet. Its as if no one wants to break the fragile atmosphere. 

Someone had set up a central point, a place to check in and to reconnect loved ones if they were there. After checking the list, filled with scrawled names, both Itsuo and I were disheartened to find no one familiar. So, tired and sore, we find an empty piece of floor and sit together. 

There’s silence between us for a while. Itsuo looks distant and lost. I’m just thinking about my family- my second family, just beginning to be precious after 7 years. My brain keeps spitting out worst case scenarios. Realistically I understood that a version of Rock Lee survived canon- but this wasn’t canon, was it? Had I fucked something up just by existing?

Just as my thoughts were slowly leading me further and further down into the dark, Itsuo speaks-

“I was going to visit my mother and sister. Akito’s gonna be four soon and she’s so excited. Mom…” he continues on, not pausing for breath. It’s clearly nervous babble, just stream of consciousness, but I listen attentively anyways, and learn. 

It turns out Itsuo’s dad, Yamanaka Hibari, died in tail end of the third shinobi world war, leaving his pregnant wife alone with a young son. Devastated, she grew to hate the shinobi lifestyle, and when Itsuo announced his intentions of attending the academy, she left the clan compound to go live with her sister, bringing Akito with her. Itsuo stayed in the clan, and now lives with his paternal grandparents. Despite his strained relationship with his mom, he still visits his sister weekly. He was going to visit them tonight, thus why he was on the streets when the kyuubi attacked. 

My heart yearns for him. His home life sounds unstable, and despite going to school to be a shinobi, to be a killer, he’s just seven years old. A kid. I can’t excuse his behavior towards other kids at school, but I can understand it. I quietly add him to my list of people I want to protect. 

Eventually, though, even the longest night must end, and with the rising of the sun comes the end of the state of emergency. The kyuubi had long gone silent, and I knows that means the end of the fourth hokage’s reign, and the birth of a new era. Naruto Uzumaki, Child of Prophecy, the future hokage- cries into the dawn. 

—

Itsuo is reunited with his family first. I watch as he tearfully hugs his grandparents, before looking away. It takes another hour of painful waiting before a shout startles me out of a light doze- 

“Brick! Oh, my baby!” 

It’s Hin- mom and I sag with relief when I see my brother in her arms before I’m also swept up into them. We spend a long moment just breathing, my face smushed into her side before she leans back, eyes red and puffy, and looks me over frantically. 

“I’m fine mom” I say quietly. “Where’s dad?” 

The lines around her eyes tighten, and she shakes her head slowly, and I go cold and still. She doesn’t have to say anything. I already know. 

—

Konoha is a disaster. Just barely recovered from the third war before it’s all undone in one horrible night. The casualties, civilian and shinobi alike, as well as the massive damages to infrastructure and land all add up to a severely weakened state. The following weeks are spent in damage control and cleanup, with the fourth hokage’s wake followed by several mass funerals. It’s devastating. 

The day before dad’s scheduled funeral, I’m walking through the wrecked Konoha to find some flowers for him. It’s clear, looking to the rooftops, that even with limited personnel the shinobi force has ramped security. I assume it’s in case another nation decides to kick us while we’re down. Even the normally hidden ANBU are patrolling in plain sight. Somehow, in a way, that makes the attack seem so much more real than the collapsed buildings.

Entering the Yamanaka district, I’m shocked to see clan children handing out beautiful origami flowers. They look to be made out of anything paper- newspapers, fliers, ruined book pages. I’m even more surprised to see Itsuo sitting on a patch of grass, teaching fellow kids how to fold them. I watch, stunned for a beat, before making my way over and plopping down next to a startled Itsuo. Wordlessly, he hands me a piece of paper- part of a water stained scroll on economics- and I carefully follow along as he folds a lily into bloom. 

—

After placing a bouquet of paper flowers onto dad’s grave (something which sets off a ringing note of familiarity in my head), I turn and return to go back to our thankfully mostly intact home, walking a step behind mom’s back. 

Mom gets real quiet and snappy sometimes, now, but I understand. I too, cycle between rage, and despair, and an overwhelming emptiness that threatens to consume me. How could I have forgotten the most important event of the plot? What motherfucker even put me in this world to begin with? For what reason? 

Could I have even done anything?

… Should I have?

It doesn’t matter. It’s over now, and all that’s left is to move forward. 

—

I start a journal, written in English, and write down everything I remember from canon. I take care to not use names, and instead use code names, just in case. I take vicious, childish satisfaction in dubbing Obito “Fucking Filthy Toe Rag”. It’s a little long and unwieldy, but I’m just angry and petty enough to use it anyways. My little brother is lovingly referred to as Pebble. 

I also train. Since school has been canceled for the foreseeable future while things are slowly repaired, I throw myself into getting stronger, faster, better. I throw caution to the wind in regards to potentially damaging my body and wrap heavy pieces of scrap metal to my shoes and around my arms. I’m sure I look ridiculous, but no one comments, least of all my mother. Sunup to sundown I alternate my days between going to the library, running laps, and helping with reconstruction efforts. I figure if future Lee can become one of the strongest shinobi in his generation through sheer hard work, then by god I could too. 

I find myself often working construction alongside Inuzuka Hana and one of her cousins, Shippo, and his partner Aozoramaru, a beautiful Husky looking dog with blue eyes. 

One day, while hauling supplies between construction sites, Shippo sets his last load of bricks down, before leaning back and cracking his spine with a series of pops. “Man,” he says, groaning, “I feel like a genin again, doing D ranks”. Aozoramaru perks up at his words but quickly goes back to looking bored when it’s clear he’s just complaining. Hana’s got her own cart of supplies. 

I don’t reply, too busy struggling with a bag of unmixed mortar. Despite a month now of training and rebuilding, I still struggle. I’m seven for fucks sake. I can feel Shippo watching, and self conscious now, I snap out. 

“What?” 

“Why aren’t you using chakra to lift that?” He looks puzzled.

“I can’t. Don’t know how” I mutter. Shippo looks personally affronted, like I insulted him or something. 

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” He’s looking at me intently now. I’m a little nervous. 

“It just.. doesn’t work?” I say tentatively. Hana’s head whips around at that, eyes wide. 

“You’ve been hauling shit around for a month without chakra?” She asks. I’m getting really nervous now. It’s not that weird, right? 

Hana and Shippo trade looks, seemingly having a conversation with their eyes alone, before Hana grabs me by the hand and starts pulling me, work forgotten. I look back to see Shippo quickly finishing up before Hana almost jerks me into a wall and I pay attention to my feet again. 

“Shippo’s sister is a sensor, AND a medic! She can tell us what’s going on! She’s probably at the kennels right now! C’mon!” Hana says giddily. I’m a little afraid of how excited she is about this, before I remember that she becomes a medic nin in the future and weird chakra phenomena are probably right up her alley. 

Shippo’s sister is beautiful, obviously Inuzuka, and as no nonsense as they come. Once Hana explains my situation to her, she puts a glowing green palm against my sternum, frowning. A few moments pass before she looks puzzled, and repeats the diagnostic jutsu. 

“Well,” she says slowly, pulling her hand away, “it appears that you have an extremely high amount of spiritual energy compared to physical. Since physical augmentation of strength is a primarily yang technique, I’m not surprised you’ve been having trouble.” 

“So…?” I trail off. She seems to understand, though.

“Until you can balance out the two, at least enough, you won’t have enough physical energy to mold enough chakra to perform techniques. Physical energy should come with age, and exercise. You’ll be a bit behind everyone else in terms of chakra, but you’ll get there eventually. Until you can start using chakra properly, I’m afraid your coils will be underdeveloped compared to your peers.” 

Well, shit. That’s better news than being unable to use chakra at all. I’ll take it. 

Thanking her profusely, me and Hana leave the clan kennels and make our way back into Konoha proper. Hana’s looking at me kinda funny, but I ignore it like a champ. Thinking about it, won’t Lee have an issue with chakra? Thank god mine seems to be relatively easy to fix. 

—

Hana’s starstruck. 

She has never seen anyone cooler than Brick Lee. Well, maybe her mom. Her mom kicks ass. But Brick Lee has been keeping up with her and her cousin doing repairs for a month now. Without chakra!! She made top of the class! Without chakra! She’d seen the makeshift arm and leg weights too. If that isn’t badass, she doesn’t know what is. 

So cool. 

She hopes to be like that someday.

Chapter Text

Konoha rebuilds. And after enough time, the academy is remade and classes begin as usual. Classes get steadily harder, if only slightly, with the addition of jutsu theory and kunai throwing, but not enough to be mentally stimulating. It makes it incredibly tempting to just sleep through classes. However, with the news that I could use chakra as soon as I gain more physical energy, I’m suddenly more enthusiastic about taking studies more seriously, and I retain top spot of the class. 

Things start becoming routine, then habit, until eventually I don’t even notice them anymore. Things like wearing arm and leg weights (real ones, after Hana gifts me some clan issue weights. Bless clan kids and their easy access to materials), or training daily, or helping mom take care of Rock. Training wise, things go smoothly, especially with weekly sparring sessions with Hana. I start gaining enough physical energy to mold enough chakra to lift heavier objects, which is a plus. Ninja magic is seriously never gonna get old.

I end up hanging out with Hana and Itsuo in my free time. Never at the same time, though. I’m pretty sure I’m the only thing they have in common, and it’s not enough for them to suddenly become besties or something. So, with Hana, I usually train or hang out with her and the Haimaru brothers, who are just puppies at this point. She’s a very loud personality with an even louder laugh. It’s endearing. 

Itsuo, meanwhile, loses some of his young adolescent rage, and channels the rest into his studies instead of picking on other kids. He even teaches me more origami when we hang out for lunch, which is nice. I’m so proud. I even manage to convince his mom to let our respective siblings on playdates. Akito is a little monster and I hope she rubs her hellion tendencies off on Rock, because that kid is too nice for his own good. Even as a toddler it’s apparent. 

So. School, training, chores, eating, hanging with friends, sleeping, rinse and repeat. Like this, two years pass. Relatively well, I’d say. 

--

That is, until I come home one day a couple weeks after my ninth birthday to find my mom crying. I immediately look for Lee, worried, and relax slightly when I see him safe in the dining room. I’m still really worried, though, since Hina hasn’t cried in two years since dad died. Slowly, like approaching a startled animal, I sit down next to her at the kitchen table. I give it a couple minutes to see if she’ll share unprompted, before giving up and just asking. 

“What’s going on mom?”

Hina is quiet for a moment, before it comes bursting out of her in a rush, “Some shinobi came and asked me if I cheated on Stone. They wanted to know if I- if I was with anyone else before you were born!” I thought she was sad- no, she’s furious. She continues, “some man was asking if I slept with a Nara. A Nara! I have been- was- with your father for years! How could they-” she stops, collecting herself.

I’m gaping. What the fuck? What the hell? 

“Honey, I’m glad you’re doing well in school, but I didn’t realize you were doing that well! They think you must be part Nara or something!” she continues, not noticing my eyes glaze over in panic.

I’m blue screening at this point. 

Wait. “What man?” I ask suddenly. 

“Oh. Um. Shimura something. Hanzo maybe” she replies, wiping her eyes, distracted with Lee coming over to tug on her sleeve.

I’m so still I’m practically marble. I don’t even think I’m breathing. Mom doesn’t notice, but Lee is now watching me with a puzzled expression. 

Somehow I’d attracted the attention of Konoha’s boogeyman. By, what, acing too many tests? There was no way that was that unusual. Right? Fuck, I had to do something, fast. Shimura Danzo was the scariest geriatric motherfucker in the series, simply because his motives were ideological . He wasn’t crazy, or obsessed, or bored. He thought he was doing the right thing. Not to mention he ran the village’s shadow shadow corps. So underground they were ghosts. Wait. When was Root disbanded? Were they yet? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had the attention of a very powerful man and I needed to deflect it. 

I excuse myself after patting her on the back, a little awkwardly. I had some planning to do. 

--

Sneaking into the academy office after classes wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my afternoon. Yet- surprisingly easy. I’m sure, however, that when my instructors said to put the skills I’d been learning in class to use they didn’t mean like this. This being sneaking into the office, disarming the traps on the filing cabinet, and copying the test answer keys. Making sure to rearm any traps, I deliberately stopped myself from cleaning up all traces of my presence, leaving one strand of my wild hair. After all, I wanted to get caught. 

My thought process went a little something like this: If I was seen as being genius-level too good at school, then I’d make it so I had been “cheating” my way to the top. I might get in trouble for something I didn’t actually do, but being seen as a cheater was much better than having the old creep interested in my brain. Ew. All of this made me feel a little like an imposter, though, since I wasn’t actually particularly smart. I just happened to be a twenty something year old in the body of a nine year old. Of course I’d seem smart. Maybe all of this could have been avoided if I had played dumb in the first place, but just redoing early schooling was horrible in the first place. Intentionally doing badly? No thanks. 

Tucking the files under my shirt, I back out of the office confidently. Even though the hall was empty, it pays to treat the situation as if I were monitored. No one looks twice at someone who is confident and acts like they belong there, doing what they’re doing. 

Praying this works, I go home and wait. 

--

It takes way longer than I’d expected for me to get called into the office. Like three days. What I wasn’t expecting was for the motherfucking councilwoman Koharu Utatane to be in the room with Kimiko sensei. Oh god.

--

Koharu watches the girl enter the room. She’s clearly nervous, and showing it, something that will have to be trained out of her. She watches as the child hesitates between the two empty chairs. Surprisingly, she takes the chair against the wall, rather than the expected one closest to the only exit. Koharu approves. It’s much harder to be snuck up on when there’s a wall at your back. The more defensible position compared to the easy exit. Unorthodox, but smart. Brick Lee sits, silent, and waits. 

Koharu signals Kimiko to wait as well. Nothing like a little pressure to make someone tick. 

Yet Brick Lee, despite starting to look supremely uncomfortable, doesn’t crack. Incredible. She’s seen grown men falter under her stare. Maybe that’s the problem- maybe Brick doesnt understand who she’s dealing with. 

“My name is Utatane Koharu, member of the Hokage’s council, and in charge of the academy.” she says after a moment. If anything the girl’s face goes flatter. Superb. 

Kimiko takes over, “we’ve called you in today because we have reason to believe you broke into the office” she pauses, before continuing, “there was indication that you forged copies of the test keys.” 

Koharu notices that instead of looking upset, she can see a flash of triumph in the girl’s eyes. Well, that confirms her theory. She deliberately got caught cheating, and probably hadn’t been cheating at all. But why would she go through the trouble of faking all of this? To try and discredit herself? Why would she try to undermine her abilities after gaining some attention? Dont kids normally brag about accomplishments? It didn’t add up, and that was precisely why she was handling this matter personally, and why the girl had been a short topic of debate during the last council meeting. While discussing a civilian child was rather unorthodox, it wasn't unheard of. 

Shifting in the hard chair, Koharu once again wishes her joints didn’t hurt as much as they do. She decides this has gone on long enough. Kimiko cuts off her speech about academic integrity as she leans forward.

“I’ll make this brief.” Koharu cuts in. “I know you faked this whole cheating situation.” The girl starts, and goes to speak, and even Kimiko looks shocked, but Koharu continues on, “Maintaining top spot in grades, sneaking into the office, planting evidence, fooling a chunin ” Kimiko makes a strangled sound. She ignores it, and goes on, “All of this points to you being much more advanced than your age group. I cannot allow you to waste time in the academy. I’m placing you in the highest grade until exams in a few months, where you will graduate. Konoha needs potential like yours to be out in the system, not wasting away in the classroom.” Koharu doesn’t miss the way the girl’s eyes widen. Good. 

She stands up, and makes her way out of the room. She can see why Danzo brought the girl to the council’s attention. What an interesting child. 

--

Hoo boy. Life keeps on finding ways to surprise me. I’m so used to my old way of life that even after nine years in the Naruto universe I’m still stuck in my old ways of thinking. 20 odd years is a lot to unlearn, but I have to, fast, if I want to survive this world, let alone change it. 

I had thought for sure that getting caught cheating was a bad thing , and that they wouldn’t look past the evidence of me supposedly stealing test keys. I should have known that to shinobi, that kind of activity is seen as good practice. 

And while, yes, I absolutely want to get stronger and graduating and being placed under a jounin will help with that, I don’t think I’m physically ready. I still have an unbalanced chakra system, not to mention my body is nine years old. How the hell did Itachi manage becoming a genin years ago? Oh yeah, he’s Uchiha fucking Itachi. 

And I’m just Brick Lee, whatever that means.

—

Hana gets incredibly sullen when I announce my (forced) graduation. Even the Haimaru brothers look upset. I think she was assuming we’d be on a team together. I’ll admit, that would have been nice. Now I have no idea about what team I’ll be placed with. 

Itsuo, on the other hand, takes my graduation announcement as an excuse to drag me shopping. 

“We have to pick out your shinobi Outfit!” he’s practically vibrating. I could hear the capital O. 

“My what?”

“Your outfit, Brick!” He repeats, rather unhelpfully, before sprinting in the direction of the shopping district. All I can do is sigh and catch up. 

Itsuo, as it turns out, is a bit of a fashion fanatic. I suppose, looking at his outfit, it fits. Where he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket with black pants- all clean lines- I just have on whatever shorts I grabbed that day and a blue shirt with a tear in it.

“What exactly are we doing?” I ask.

“Shinobi typically wear one outfit or variations of the same outfit all the time and for missions. For some it’s because it’s easy to buy in bulk for when stuff gets wrecked, but for others it becomes part of what people recognize them by” Itsuo explains as we enter a shop called “Onohara Outfitters”. I’m thinking something along the lines of: ‘wearing something recognizable doesn’t sound very ninja like’ when what he said actually registers. 

You’re shitting me. Naruto characters wearing the same thing 24/7 wasn’t to make drawing them easier?? It was an actual thing? Dear lord how was this my life.

Chapter Text

I’m wandering a dim hallway, chasing a distant melody. It’s muffled, and distant, a half remembered thing. Just words drifting over a faint tune...

“ If the sky that we look upon

Should tumble and fall…”

No matter how fast I move towards it it, it seems to fade out even faster-

I blink awake, unsure why at first, until I notice Lee standing in the doorway of my room, silently watching me. Kids could be so unintentionally creepy sometimes.

“ C’mon kiddo” I mutter, the English slipping out on accident.

 Sitting up, I motion him over, his tiny feet padding on the floor, and help him up onto my bed. Where he promptly clings onto my side, like some kind of adorable limpet. I sigh, resigned, and let him sleep with me. 

I sleep soundly.

—

All in all, graduation from the academy is relatively easy. There’s the requisite written exam, testing theoretical knowledge, and the practical portion, testing physical skills and our ability to perform one of the basic jutsu taught to us. 

Well. Relatively. The village strikes a delicate balance between being too lenient and getting incompetent kids killed and being too harsh, and having too small of a genin force. As a failsafe, any that pass the academy graduation who perhaps shouldn’t have, for whatever reason, are weeded out by the team based Jounin test. 

All this means is that the day of my graduation exam, I was more worried about the team I would be placed on than graduating itself. 

My confidence was not misplaced. Easily answering the math questions, and the physics, I was only a little stumped by some of the history. I must have skipped the year I would’ve been taught it. Though, chakra theory was simple considering how much outside learning I dedicated to it out of class. I was glad for my obsessive reading at the library. 

During the practical, I mentally thanked Hana for the help sparring, and for discovering my chakra problem. I trounced the kid I was up against in my spar, mostly because he was either unused to fighting smaller opponents or holding back. I had no such reservations. I was 9 and needed all the help I could get. It was over very quickly- I dodged under his first strike and pushed a hand against his chest, simultaneously sweeping a foot behind his ankle. Push and pull- he went down hard, a blunt kunai held to his throat. 

Things seemed to go quickly after that.

Since I was able to work out my body through sparring with Hana so often, I had the physical energy necessary to mold enough chakra for a couple techniques. Enough that I was able to perform the replacement jutsu and pass the exam. 

Soon, too soon, I’m holding a forehead protector. It’s hard to feel the pride I can see reflected in the other graduates eyes. What I feel is grim satisfaction at best. Determination, perhaps. The metal feels cold and heavy in my hands. 

—

Mom and Lee are waiting by the gate when I step out into the sunshine. Hana’s a couple feet away, the Haimaru brothers tussling in the grass. Clearly she stuck around to see how I did. Grinning, I hold up the metal plate, leaf visible. Moms face goes through several emotions: surprise- was that fear? Before settling on a smile. I pretend not to notice and instead let Hana hug me. Her grin is Inuzuka fierce. 

“I’ll catch up” she says, gripping my hand tightly. 

“You better,” I squeeze her hand back, “I’m counting on it”. 

What follows is a round of hugs and congratulations. Team assignments aren’t until tomorrow afternoon, so I have some time to prepare. Mom invites Hana over to dinner and then we part ways, her taking Lee back home while Hana and I head over to a weapons shop. 

It’s an Inuzuka owned one, just outside the clan grounds. The woman behind the counter looks up as we enter and barks a laugh. 

“A new genin, huh? You look especially baby-faced, kid” she says as she stands, tossing the book she had been reading down. I have to crane my head back as she rounds the counter. Wow. She’s tall. 

“Hey, Auntie! Brick needs a weapons pouch and all that” Hana bounces in place. I bet she’s living vicariously through me at this point. 

The woman, whose name I learn is Ashi, helpfully leads me through the process of buying and stocking a weapons pouch, throwing in an extra bundle of kunai for free with a wink. It’s here that I figure out how to wear my new headband. Since my head is too small, and putting it around my arm felt weird, Ashi points out shinobi grade fabric that I can use to customise. She helps me move the metal part of the protector to the new black fabric, and I tie it around my waist like a belt. Paying and then thanking her profusely, we leave just in time to head back to my house for dinner. 

--

Team placements are held at the academy. I arrive a little early, and sit in my spot at the back of the classroom. I put my head down on my arms and wait. There’s no use trying to guess who I’ll be placed with, considering I didn’t even bother to learn the names of half the kids of my class. It might have been petty, but being forcibly advanced in the middle of a school year didn’t exactly foster warm and fuzzy feelings towards my classmates. All they were were loud reminders of my situation. Therefore, when the teacher finally started calling off names, I only paid enough attention to listen for my name. 

Which didn’t come. 

I watched as more and more kids got paired up and sent off with their senseis, until I was the last one in the room. He waves me down, and I walk to his desk, confused. 

“Your sensei is gonna be a bit late. He wants you to meet him at training ground five” He lifts a scrawled note, waving it in the air briefly before handing it to me as he talks. 

“What about my teammates?” I ask while glancing at the note. It says to meet at 2 o'clock.

“I don’t get paid enough to know or care” he says dismissively, already packing up his things. 

Wow. Okay then. 

I leave the academy, squinting at the bright sunlight. Nervously, I aimlessly wander the streets, killing time until about 1:45. There’s a sale at my favorite bookstore, and the Akimichi restaurant next to it is unsurprisingly busy. I smile as some kid streaks past me, shrieking with laughter. There’s a poor Uchiha MP trying to break up a fight between two civilian men. 

Eventually it’s time to start heading over.

As I make my way to training ground 5, I let my mind wander. Training grounds in Konoha are numbered, but they aren’t laid out in numerical order and there isn’t a training ground for every number. Probably for security. For example, there wasn’t a training ground 17 for some weird reason, and there also wasn’t a training ground 4. I assumed that one was for superstitious reasons. I suppose it makes sense to have a confusing layout, so that only those who have spent time in the village would know how to navigate it. 

My musings are cut short when I get to the training ground and see someone already there, sitting on a stump. They glance up and I freeze, meeting the eyes of Uchiha Itachi. Realizing that I was standing there like an idiot, I quickly walk a couple feet off the path and onto the training ground proper, before slowly sitting down onto the grass. I make sure to sit facing Itachi, eyes staring just slightly to the right of his shoulder. I did not want him at my back.

Hooooooooly shit, I wasn’t expecting to be jumpscared like that. Rationally, I knew that as of right now, Itachi was just a kid. Innocent. But that didn’t stop my irrational fear of him. The boy sitting in front of me grew up to be an S-ranked threat that other S-ranks were wary of. Someone who could kill their family like that- under orders or not- was terrifying. Tragic, yeah. But still intimidating and scary. Somehow, during those few months we shared the same class at the academy, he didn’t elicit quite this reaction in me. It must be his hair- it’s grown since the academy and is now in a familiar ponytail. 

We didn’t speak. I waited the agonizing handful of minutes until 2:00 in silence, trying to figure out why Itachi would be at this training ground in particular and just sitting there . You’d think he would be, I dunno, training or something. Why’d he have to pick my training ground?

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of someone else into the clearing. My eyes don’t leave their spot- now at the grass by Itachi's left foot- so I have to wait for them to step into my line of sight. 

“Itachi! Who’s the kid? Your cousin or something?” The new arrival asks, walking into view. It’s a boy, maybe 13, with brown hair and glasses. 

“She,” another voice adds, from right behind me, “is your new teammate.” 

I finally tear my eyes from Itachi, and turn to look at the man who spoke. I didn’t even know he was there. He’s tall, with his black hair tied in a ponytail, and green under his eyes. I spot the Nara crest on his sleeve. Is he my teacher? Wait. Teammate? 

I whip back around to look at Itachi. He looks impassive at the news. The glasses kid looks confused. 

I’m screaming on the inside.

Chapter Text

Brick Lee looks at him with distrust and it hurts in a way he didn’t expect. The glares of strangers have never reached this deep. Uchiha Itachi had thought that the bright girl he remembered from the academy would be beyond the rumors surrounding the Uchiha following the kyuubi attack years ago. He supposes he thought wrong. 

He stands smoothly as Ensui-sensei beckons them further onto the training field, noting how Brick moves to put Masaru between herself and him. It’s subtle. But he sees it anyways. 

They reach the center of the field and Ensui-sensei sinks to the ground in that boneless way of his that manages to somehow be graceful and ungainly at the same time. Masaru follows suit and Itachi watches as Brick waits to see where he sits before sitting down herself. The foreign symbols on her shirt are stark against the white of the material. 

“Alright kids. Introductions. Name, skills, weaknesses, hobbies. I’ll start. My name is Nara Ensui. I am skilled at my clans jutsu. I could stand to improve my taijutsu. I like to read.” He motions at Masaru. 

“Aw, teach! We already did this!” Masaru groans. 

“It’s not for your benefit, brat. We have a new team member if you haven’t noticed.” 

Masaru goes red, and says, “W-well. I’m Saito Masaru. I’m good at setting traps and throwing kunai. I… I’m pretty bad at recognizing genjutsu. And I like eating good food!” 

Ensui-sensei looks to him next. He thinks for a second before speaking softly, “I am Uchiha Itachi. I am proficient in ninjutsu and genjutsu. I could work on taijutsu as well. I enjoy cooking.” 

Brick looks briefly surprised, but he is unsure at what. He listens carefully, curious what her introduction would include. Her green eyes flick between everyone before she begins to speak. 

“I’m Brick Lee. My strength is taijutsu. My weakness is ninjutsu. I like origami.” 

Itachi wonders at her blunt introduction before remembering that Brick once told a classmate to “eat dirt” because they stepped on her foot. He thinks blunt is a perfect description of Brick Lee. 

Ensui-sensei nods once and stands swiftly. At this point used to sensei’s nonverbal cues, Itachi is already standing before Masaru even begins to scramble to his feet, with Brick close behind. He waits as sensei looks each of them over, before seemingly deciding something with a nod. 

“Alright. Free for all spar, 5 minutes. I want to see where you guys stand, ability wise. Non lethal moves, last one standing gets a clue for what we’re doing later. Go nuts.” 

At his last word, Itachi launches away from Brick, remembering her stated strength in taijutsu. Pulling out a kunai, he waits a beat to see where the others will go. Masaru, obviously forgetting Brick’s introduction, moves to sweep her off her feet. He watches as she deftly sidesteps Masaru’s leg and following punch. She takes advantage of his overextended reach by grabbing his outstretched wrist in one hand and turning, placing her forearm against his shoulder with the motion. A leg hooks behind his ankle. His original momentum combined with her force sends him sprawling in the dirt, glasses akimbo. All of this in the span of seconds.

Itachi, deciding to act while Masaru is momentarily out of the fight, throws four kunai, pinning Masaru’s sleeves and pants to the grass. That would keep him on the ground for a little longer. 

“Hey!” Masaru yells, pulling at his sleeves. 

Brick leaps away from Masaru and towards him, her face like stone, her eyes determined. It almost seems like all of her apprehension towards him vanished in the face of a fight.  

Ignoring Masaru’s continued shouts, Itachi starts the hand seals for a grand fireball, but only gets through boar and horse before he has to abandon the jutsu in order to block a kick. It hurts , he can feel the force shuddering through his arms. 

They fight, Itachi retreating a few steps each blow, until he finally completes the hand seals for a fireball and she has to replace with a log to escape it. Finally at a good distance, he throws some shuriken for a distraction and laces a genjutsu over Brick and Masaru, who is just now getting up from the ground. 

Masaru whips around and faces the illusion, a doppelgänger version of himself that is injured and struggling to breathe. It’s not too off the mark. Taking the opportunity to catch his breath- Brick was fast- Itachi watches as Masaru wastes energy fighting the temptingly injured fake, not even noticing the genjutsu. However, his inattention towards Brick- he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off an opponent- caused him to miss her immediately shake off the genjutsu and take off her arm and leg weights. He looks back at her in time to narrowly dodge a first strike before getting nailed in the chest with a kick. She’s even faster! 

He rolls back- bouncing to his feet, and replaces with the same log Brick used earlier. Now across the field, he raises his arms in preparation to block when the fight is interrupted by senseis deep voice. 

“Times up! Itachi and Brick tied for first, seeing as neither of you got knocked out of the fight. Masaru- someone break that genjutsu for him- Masaru came in last. Brick and Itachi each get half of the clue then.” He says. 

Masaru looks sullen as sensei hands a piece of paper to Brick. He slips something gold into Itachi’s hands, and Itachi waits to look at it. Ensui-sensei seems contemplative for a moment before continuing. 

“Find what's hidden in the village. Find and bring it here within three hours. Go.” 

Masaru groans, and Itachi almost wants to as well. The village wasn’t exactly small, and sensei didn’t even say what the object was . Well, he supposes there’s nothing for it but to get going. Better start now.

—

Itachi is just walking away, intending to head to the village center, when a hesitant call from Brick brings him back. 

He finds Brick and Masaru huddled over the slip of paper she was given, and steps forward when she tilts it towards him. She still seems a bit wary of him, but less so, now. Maybe they should attempt to beat each other up more often. 

“It will be faster if we work together and pool the clues. Separately they might not mean much but together they might be more informative.” She explains. 

That makes tactical sense. Itachi pulls out the gold object and finally sees that it’s a golden metal… flower? It looks like a keychain and it has a small scratch on the side. He shows it to them, and reads the note as they fiddle with the keychain. 

104

How… disappointing. These barely help at all. 

—

“Hey! You took kunoichi classes, Brick, what kind of flower is that?” 

“I have no fucking clue.”

“Perhaps we could ask someone” Itachi murmurs. 

Brick pauses for a second, before exclaiming, “Hmm. Oh! I have a friend who might know! Follow me.” 

Ensui watches them work together and feels immensely proud and incredibly old. He’s only 23 and already responsible for three kids. And two of them are so young…

Despite reading Brick Lee’s file, he was still somehow surprised she held her own against her fellow prodigy. Where Itachi is an all around genius, he had figured that her genius had ended at book smarts. Clearly not. While he would have to see about increasing her chakra reserve size and her control in using it, he was suitably impressed by her taijutsu. It was pretty good, for a fresh academy graduate. He listens as their voices filter up to the roof he’s crouched on. 

“What’s up with you baby monsters, anyways? You freaking five year olds are terrifying!” Masaru complains.

“Hey! We’re not five! We’re nine!” He hears the girl respond. 

“That is incorrect” Itachi cuts in quietly. 

“Besides we’re not tha- wait what? What’s incorrect?” 

“I am not nine. I am seven.”

Ensui watches as Bricks face goes through some impressive contortions as she counts on her fingers. 

“Sevensixfi- YOU WERE FOUR ?” She shrieks. 

Ensui can practically feel Itachi’s confusión from here. It’s all in the kids' shoulders. 

“Yes.”

“YES?? GOD, YOU'RE A CHILD WHY DID THEY GRADUATE YOU? Why were you even at the academy that early in the first place?”

Her voice is getting louder and louder. Ensui found the idea of a child calling another kid a child very amusing. And while Ensui silently agrees with her, he finds it rather odd that a nine year old would have the same opinions as him on early graduation. Most kids would be jealous, not incredulous. 

“If an incoming class has too many civilians compared to clan members, the village will approach clans and ask if they are willing to advance younger members. Our original year was the first year in 12 years that the number of civilian students far outweighed clan students. My father was approached, and he agreed it would be good for me to enter early. I believe Inuzuka Hana was another early placement.” 

“But… four.”

Ensui’s pretty sure the poor girl's brain is breaking. Masaru is laughing, great heaving guffaws of laughter that are shaking his frame. Itachi still looks puzzled. 

Ensui has had Itachi as an apprentice since his graduation at four years old. Masaru and another civilian girl, Rie, were a relatively new addition last year. However, Rie decided to stop her career as a shinobi, leaving the empty spot.

Ensui just hopes the new addition to his team won’t leave like his previous female student did.

—

 Eventually, they arrive at an apartment complex near the Yamanaka flower shop, and Ensui watches, intrigued, as the girl drags a Yamanaka boy out of his home and holds up the keychain. From his vantage point, Ensui can only read lips and watch gestures, but it’s enough to see what’s going on. The boy peers at it for a moment, before giving them an answer. 

Smart, making use of an ally with better intelligence. A pity, though, because they were solving this faster than he expected. Wanting to hear their conversation, he moves to a closer roof. 

“Magnolia? Hey Itsuo, what’s the meaning of magnolias?” Brick asks.

“Nobility and purity” he answers with no hesitation. 

“Hmm. Wait, weren’t the clues supposed to be together? Like, one half of the clue went to each of you... So, maybe, we just. Put them together?” Masaru asks haltingly. 

“104 Magnolia… isn’t that an address? Magnolia lane?” 

“Yes. We should go to it.”

They head off. Ensui follows a short distance behind, assessing and curious. So far, he’s pleased. The three of them have worked together to a greater effect than what they could have achieved alone, and they weren’t afraid to seek outside help for their task. He prays this trend continues. 

Brick’s voice carries over as they reach 104 Magnolia lane. 

“Ashi’s store? I was just here yesterday.”

Oh?

The owner of the shop greets the girl boisterously, waving her and the boys inside. Ashi leaves the door open with a wink in Ensui’s direction. He’ll have to thank her later. Their voices drift out the open door.

“Where’s little Hana? I heard you two were inseparable.” 

“Ah, well, this is my genin team, Miss Ashi.” 

His little civilian girl was familiar with a Yamanaka and an Inuzuka? The heir no less. 

“Ha! You must be on Ensui’s team then. You’ll want to take this.” The fierce woman gestures to a package, and Ensui smiles from where he’s lurking across the street. He wonders if they’ll realize. 

“Alright! We got it! Let’s go!” Masaru crows. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourselves, kids. He told me to tell you ‘146 Maple street’.” 

“Aw c’mon” he complains. 

“‘146 Maple street’... I suppose we have to go,” Itachi says. 

They go, with Brick waving goodbye. 

—

The next stop is a Akimichi grocery store, which leads them to a bookstore. And so on. 

As they leave each store in the chain he set up, he watches the dawning realization on their faces. It’s Brick who finally states the obvious. 

“That bastard sent us to do his errands!” 

Chapter Text

It felt like my whole world got flipped upside down in a matter of 48 hours. No, scratch that- shaken like a fucking snowglobe. I graduate and find out one of my teammates is Uchiha Itachi. First I think he’s terrifying, and then we spar and I realize hey, he’s not so bad. Mostly because it proved that he was just a genin, like me, and not some unstoppable force of nature. And then??? It turns out he’s a fucking baby, an absolute child , a goddamned seven year old. 

Looking at him now, I couldn’t understand how I didn’t see how young he looked. His eyes are so big, and his frame so little. Kunai look big in his hands. 

That’s it. Itachi is my son now. Masaru too. He may be older than this body, but I still had years on him. It may be the norm here, but to me, using child soldiers makes me unspeakably angry, and I curse the shinobi system that needs them. 

Then and there I revow that I will get stronger. I would tear the future apart at the seams if I had to. To protect my loved ones, and all the children this world would screw over. 

—

Making it back to the training field with time to spare, we find sensei leaning languidly against a tree. 

We give him his various packages and groceries, and he smiles and dismisses us, curtly telling us to meet there tomorrow at 10 am before disappearing into the trees.

I look to Itachi and then Masaru, and decide the day isn’t over yet. It was only about 5:30. Before they can leave, I hesitantly invite them to have dinner at my house. Masaru looks tempted, before declining, stating he has to go home to his dad. His glasses glint in the evening sunlight as he leaves.

Itachi opens his mouth to respond after a moment of thinking but is interrupted by another boy arriving in the clearing. He has wild black hair and the typical Uchiha features. 

“Hello cousin dearest! I’ve been looki- what’s this? A girl ? Look at you, mister ladies man!” The boy teases. 

Are… are Itachi’s cheeks pink? What for? I’m so distracted by Itachi I’m caught completely off guard when the other boy flickers so close he’s right in my face. Luckily, I refrain from flinching. He’s close enough that I can see the freckles dotted across his nose. 

“Shisui, get away from my teammate,” Itachi cuts in. 

Shisui? This was Shunshin no Shisui? This scrawny punk? 

“I was just asking Itachi if he wanted to have dinner,” I blurt out. Shisui looks delighted at that. 

“I ca-“

“He’d love to!” Shisui cuts in. 

Itachi glares at him, but doesn’t refute it. I take that as a win. Shisui looks between us before bowing out, saying that he’d meet with Itachi tomorrow. Before he leaves, I catch Itachi asking him to tell his parents where he is for dinner. Oops, I honestly didn’t even think about his family, and if they’d be worried or not.

After an awkward pause, I scramble to get my stuff together and start leading us out of the training grounds. I honestly wasn’t expecting him to come, so now that he was I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. 

The walk home is quiet, with Itachi half a step behind me. Eventually, we make it back to my house, and I nudge guest slippers towards Itachi before stepping fully inside. 

“You’re home!” My little brother squeals, skidding across the floor to give me a hug. I ruffle his hair and step past him, intent on letting mom know we have a guest, when I turn and see Itachi’s expression. It’s the most open I’ve seen him so far, soft almost, and it’s directed at Lee. 

“I have a little brother, too” he confesses, and I almost say well duh before remembering I shouldn't know that. 

Instead, I ask, “what’s his name?” 

“Sasuke”

“Cute. Is he three, like Rock?”

“No.. he is two still.” 

At his name and age, Lee holds up 3 pudgy fingers and grins. Itachi smiles softly back at him and I almost spontaneously combust on the spot. 

“Mom! Come meet my teammate! He’s gonna join us for dinner!” I call, walking further into the house. I see mom hunched over the table, grimacing, before she straightens and smiles as I come in. She seems a little pale and I almost ask what’s wrong but she immediately starts talking. 

“Well, come here you two. Oh, just look at you. Growing up so fast. And you…” she trails off. 

“Itachi” I supply. 

“.. Itachi.. you’ll watch my daughter’s back, yes?”

Itachi looks grave as he nods seriously. 

“Where is your other teammate? And your teacher?” She asks, looking behind me as if they’ll materialize. 

This prompts me to launch into the story of our first team meeting, and the dumb stunt our teacher pulled with the groceries. By the end, mom is laughing, and I don’t see a hint of the expression from earlier. 

Over dinner, mom grills Itachi about miscellaneous things, such as if he has siblings, what his favorite meal is, or what he does for fun. Yes- sasuke, anything with cabbage, or dango, and cooking. 

I’m surprised he hasn’t bolted in the face of her interrogation yet. What a brave one. 

“So you graduated early as well, Itachi-kun?”

“Yes. But I have been apprenticed to Ensui-sensei for a few years now. He has been tutoring me in chakra theory and tactics, mostly, as my taijutsu and ninjutsu training are still with my clan. We would only take C-ranks occasionally but now that we have a full team that might increase.” 

I peer at the kid a little closer. He seems a little awkward and stiff, but less so than when he first arrived. 

“So it sounds like they graduated you early and then had no idea what to do with you.” I say. 

“Brick!” Mom admonishes. 

“What?” I ask. “It’s true!” 

“You’re too blunt sometimes!” She says, pointing a finger at me.

Itachi suddenly lets out huffs of air and it takes me a second to realize he’s laughing. Any further apprehension I have for the clan-killer melts away. Nobody evil laughs like a kitten sneezing. 

“So what can you tell me about sensei?” I ask, mumbling around the tofu in my mouth. 

Itachi hums and looks thoughtful. “He’s less lazy than the rest of his clan, definitely.” 

“He made us run his errands.” I say, deadpan. 

“I said less lazy. Anyways, he’s pretty serious about training. But he likes to be roundabout with things. He never says anything in a straightforward manner.” 

So he’s a troll. Got it. 

Itachi finishes his food and sets his chopsticks down with a click . I glare enviously at his perfectly clean plate. Mine always looks like a war zone.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I must get home to my family. They worry.” He says, bowing to my mom. Her face glows. 

“You’re welcome anytime, Itachi-kun. Maybe we can have the full team next time.” 

As soon as he’s out the door, mom playfully slaps me upside the head. 

“Why can’t you be as polite as him, huh? How did I raise a barbarian?” 

I laugh.

—

Masaru knows he’s nothing special. He graduated firmly in the middle of his class, a civilian with no special clan techniques to make up for his average abilities. But to have it shoved in his face like this? 

It kind of stings. 

His teammates are monsters.  

Itachi is the heir to a powerful clan and his prowess and intelligence reflects that. Masaru would bet the kid could run mental laps around him. He’s strong, smart, and good looking. Benefits of a clan upbringing. 

But their newest teammate?

She is leagues ahead of him. 

And he can’t even blame it on a more fortunate birth than him. She’s civilian born as well, with no advantages to her name. If anything, from her whispered confession of chakra troubles, she’s less fortunate than him. 

So why is she kicking his ass? 

Masaru desperately ducks under a kick that would’ve broken his arm had he blocked it, and leaps back. Palming some kunai, he throws them at her, grimacing when one flies slightly off his intended mark and the other is easily deflected. 

What happened to projectiles being one of his strengths?

All too easily he’s pinned to the ground, glasses digging painful into his nose. 

Just as a spike of resentment flashes through him, she holds out her hand to help him up. 

“Masaru, would you like to join me on my morning runs? I think you could build some pretty great stamina if you work on it.” 

What?

She misreads his silence and starts awkwardly explaining. “It’s just, you’re not tired yet, right? You only lose because you’re not as strong with taijutsu. But that can be fixed with time- you could really be a stamina powerhouse if you-” 

He can’t help it. He starts laughing. 

Maybe they’re not so bad after all. 

—

Team training isn’t half as bad as I feared it would be. After several years of training mostly on my own or with Hana, having others in the training ground is pretty novel. 

But my years or individual training is coming to bite me in the ass because teamwork? Way harder than you’d think. 

I’ve tripped over Masaru twice and accidentally hit Itachi with a kunai, and it’s only been two weeks.

In today’s “try and beat sensei” session, we’ve only managed to go from a disorganized mess to a slightly less disorganized mess. I wince at the red mark I just left on Masaru’s ankle from where my trap for sensei caught him instead. 

Ensui-sensei watches it all with a glint in his eye. It could be mirth, but it’s just as likely he’s holding back disappointment. 

Pulling himself out of his habitual slouch to his full height, sensei calls for an end to the 3v1 and bops me on the head. 

“Don’t look so down. You guys are doing great for fresh genin. And teamwork takes practice to develop. You just graduated, and Itachi is still used to being a solo apprentice instead of a teammate. Give it more time, you’ll get there.”

“But we’re not getting it fast enough.” I complain. 

“What’s the hurry for?” He asks. 

I don’t have an answer. 

—

A month into my career as a genin, Hana drags me to the kennels to meet the new puppies. 

“Oh my god. They’re so cute! I could just squeeze them!” 

Hana eyes the lean muscles that are starting to be defined on my arms. “Please don’t.” 

The puppies scramble over each other to lick my hands. One particularly rambunctious one nips at my exposed toes. I’m in blissful, wonderful, puppy heaven when we’re interrupted by a tapping on the door. 

Wiping dog slobber on my shorts, I reach over to open it and am surprised at the message runner on the other side. 

“Lee?” 

“That’s me.” I say, raising my hand in a half wave. 

The courier tosses a scroll at me and I absently catch it. “Thanks.” I say, but he’s already gone. 

“What’s it say?” Hana asks, leaning over. 

I know she wouldn’t ask if the edge of the scroll was ringed in red. Konoha has an elaborate system of messages, signals, and passcodes that change on an irregular basis, but generally, summons are pretty standard- white for non-urgent, red for classified non-urgent, and gold for classified urgent. 

The scroll in my hands is a white one, meaning it’s okay to open in front of others. I break the seal and unroll the parchment, reading aloud. 

“Lee, Brick. Ninja ID oh-one-two-two-three-six. Blah blah blah… report to the administration center tomorrow at oh-ninehundred.” 

Hana frowns. “That’s vague.” 

Yeah, it kind of is. I frown and reread the missive. There’s no other information. 

Shrugging, I stuff the scroll into the pouch at my side and turn to Hana with a grin. 

“So what breed are they?” 

As Hana launches into an explanation, I resolve to ask Ensui-sensei about the summon later. 

Later never comes. 

Shouldering open the front door, I call a quick “I’m home” and tug off my shoes. 

Silence. 

Frowning, I step further into the house. Rock was on a playdate with Akito, but Mom was supposed to pick him up an hour ago. They should be home by now. 

“Mom?” 

Passing the empty kitchen and into the hallway, I notice her bedroom door cracked ajar, the light on. I sigh and make my way to it. I find her lying down on the bed, back facing me. 

“Hey, do you want me to pick up Rock… Mom?” 

Did she take a nap with the light on…?

I wander over and poke her shoulder. “Mom?” 

When she doesn’t wake up, I shake a little harder, to no avail. Fear jolts through me, and on instinct I check her pulse. It’s thin and reedy but present, and I slump in relief. Gathering her longer body into my small arms, I thank every god that I have enough chakra to lift her. 

A block from my house an Uchiha policeman flits down from the rooftop and I nearly drop her. 

“Please sir. She needs to go to the hospital.” I beg. 

The man nods and gathers her from my arms, before disappearing in a body flicker. 

Suddenly weightless, I stumble in the direction of the hospital before remembering my little brother. Numb, I turn and head towards Itsuo’s mom’s house. About halfway there I run into Itsuo- quite literally. With a quiet oof he bounces off my chest. Like my mind and body are lagging behind, it takes me several seconds to notice him. 

“Oh. Itsuo.”

“Brick? Where were you? I told my mom I was coming to find you- she has people coming over and needs Rock to go home… Brick? Are you okay?” 

“We’re blocking traffic.” I say absently. 

“Uhh.. yeah we are. What’s wrong?” He grips my hand and it jolts me out of my funk. 

“Mom wouldn’t wake up and she was super pale. She’s in the hospital. But I’ll come pick up Rock, I was just on the way.” 

Itsuo’s eyes widen and then narrow. “No. You are going to the hospital. I can watch your brother for a couple hours.” Just as I’m about to protest he clenches my hand painfully tight and then pushes me away. 

“Go.”

Unspeakably grateful, I shoot him a small smile and start running towards the hospital, only slowing down once I reach the doors leading to the reception desk. 

“I’m here to see Hina Lee? She was just admitted.” I feel smaller than usual. Like the nine year old this body is. 

The receptionist clucks and coos and generally seems to forget that the headband around my waist makes me a legal adult in the eyes of the village, but she sends me to Mom’s room eventually. The doctors take one look at me and shuffle me towards a chair by her bedside. 

I want to throttle someone until they tell me what’s wrong but… I subside and sit quietly, observing my mom. 

She looks… a little bit better. Color has returned to her cheeks. And when I scoot the chair closer and grab her hand her eyes crack open and meet mine. 

“Oh hon. I thought I had more time.” She whispers. 

It takes several long seconds for me to connect the dots. 

“You knew? You knew you were sick?” I barely keep the words from being a shout. Something like betrayal shoots through me. Why would she hide this?

“I’ve known for years. My eighth gate has been deformed since birth. I was so happy when you were born healthy- I was so worried when you had difficulties with chakra…” Her words trail off into silence. 

“So what does this mean?” I whisper. 

“We take things one day at a time.” 

Her smile is not as encouraging as she thinks it is. 

—

As the clock ticks over to 9:00 there is a knock on her office door and her assistant lets in the genin she called for today. Back ramrod straight and clearly reluctant to be here, the girl steps forward into the slanted light from the windows. Koharu takes a moment to just observe the student who managed to pull a fast one over a chuunin. 

A month into her genin career, and she’s gained noticeable definition to her arms and legs- losing what remaining baby fat she had. Her chakra feels tighter too, more defined, less of that roiling mess from the last time Koharu saw her. But the girl has bruises under her eyes, smudges of blue like she didn’t sleep at all, and her clothes are rumpled. 

“I’m sorry about your mother.” She says, and the girl flinches. “Had I known earlier I would have rescheduled our meeting.” 

No she wouldn’t have. 

Brick bows slightly, and speaks to the floor, “I’m sorry Utatane-sama, but why am I here?” 

“Well now. Did you think I had forgotten about you?” She asks, amused. The girl grimaces in a way that clearly screams ‘yes’. 

So expressive. 

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t answer my question.” 

And there’s the backbone she was looking for. 

Koharu stares at the girl until she breaks eye contact. “Tell me. What do you think is the best next step for your shinobi career?” 

Brick blinks and looks nonplussed before giving the question serious thought. “Strength.” 

Disappointed at the generic answer, Koharu is about to dismiss the girl when she continues. 

“Itachi and Masaru are firmly in the mid to long range, currently. Itachi can hold his own with taijutsu but he is clearly more comfortable with shuriken, genjutsu, and ninjutsu. Masaru has the potential for great stamina and would be good with a sword but for now he prefers to hang back. They both benefit from dragging the fight out to outlast or outmaneuver their opponent- to do that they need the enemies focus to be on something else. So I need to be the flashiest, strongest, in-your-face frontline I can be.” She pauses, scratching her jaw. 

“Perhaps I could make a good bodyguard in the future but for now I need more strength.” 

Koharu blinks. “That’s… certainly more thought out than most chuunin put into their career path.” 

“Utatane-sama…?” 

Koharu waves a hand absently. “Tell me how you would solve the current financial crisis.” 

“Well. The short term answer would be to push for higher level missions or to impose higher taxes.” 

“And the long term?”

“In the long run it would be more beneficial to completely overhaul the current tax system- the percent-by-clan was established at the founding of the village and no longer reflects the current situation. For example, the Uchiha pay the most in taxes as a noble clan, but their revenue is actually lower than most clans since a bulk of their shinobi end up working for the military police and take less regular missions to supplement the clan's income. Especially since the MP isn’t publicly funded as it should be- it’s a public service after all- and is instead internally funded by the clan.” 

Koharu itches to grab a pen. 

“Meanwhile, the Nara make up a not insignificant portion of the shinobi force and they supplement their income by selling medicine and working in R&D. Therefore the tax rates should be determined by income, not noble status.” 

Frowning, Koharu interrupts. “But that doesn’t increase the amount of money- it simply redistributes it.” 

The girl straightens her spine. “Not necessarily- the reason the Uchiha are such an insular clan spending wise is because they are trying to spend money internally- Uchiha money buying Uchiha made goods. Publicly funding the MP and a less punishing tax rate would encourage them to buy outside the clan, stimulating the economy. The same could be said for the Hyuuga.” 

Such fascinating and nuanced economic analysis from a nine year old. 

“I think you should come back for more talks. I’ll arrange something with your sensei. Dismissed.” 

Brick bows again, thick hair hiding her face, and leaves the room. 

Koharu has much to think about. 

—

Chapter Text

The house is terribly quiet the next morning. I spend several long seconds staring at the ceiling before rolling out of bed with a sigh. The day just started and I’m already exhausted- physically, emotionally, even mentally. I’m not sure what I did to deserve the attention of one council member, let alone two, but the conversation with Utatane was a verbal minefield. So goddamn exhausting to watch every word I said, while trying to do something meaningful.

And the old hag went and scheduled more of them. 

Itsuo’s grandparents, god bless their hearts, agreed to watch Rock for the foreseeable future. But it’s a terrible burden to be placing on two elderly people who already have Itsuo to take care of. 

Padding slowly towards the kitchen, I notice I’m late for my morning run and contemplate skipping team training today altogether. But... nothing good would come of me sitting around at the hospital instead of working. Instead of training. 

I pull on my shoes and slip out the door.

—

Itachi waits patiently underneath his favorite tree in the training ground. He probably could have come a little closer to the designated meeting time, but mornings at home have been… stifling to say the least. The clan elders have been looking to his family to bring them good fortune, and he’s been trying to relieve the pressure on his parents by living up to those expectations, but… it’s tiring. His only consolation is that by bearing more and more he can lessen the burden Sasuke will face as the second son. 

Suddenly, he is distracted from his musings by Masaru’s arrival. 

The older boy plops onto the grass with a sigh. “Have you seen Brick? She didn't meet up with me for our morning run.” He says, voice muffled by his arms. 

“No.” Itachi replies. 

“Hnn.” 

Should he… offer to spar? 

Itachi contemplates the merits of awkward conversation versus awkward silence and idly notes Ensui-sensei’s arrival. 

Just as the quiet borders on uncomfortable, their third teammate arrives. 

“Sorry sorry, I’m here.” She says, jogging into the clearing. 

Itachi observes the older girl and frowns slightly at what he sees. Dark bruises lie under her eyes and her outfit consists of the same rumpled bright yellow shorts and strange shirt from the other day. 

Even Masaru notices her ragged appearance. “Are you alright?” 

Brick opens her mouth and then closes it. “I was going to say ‘I’m fine’ but that would have been a lie.” She finally says after a moment. “My week has been shit.”

Masaru finally lifts his head fully off his arms. “Do you… need anything?” He asks. 

Brick puts a hand on her chin and frowns. “Do you think we can take as many D-ranks as possible today, sensei? I need money.” 

Money…?

Masaru looks confused before he finally notices Ensui-sensei with a jolt. Honestly, the man wasn’t even hiding. 

Sensei sighs and trods over to them before joining them on the ground and looking expectantly at Brick until she sits as well.

“Of course we can take missions today. But Brick, you know there are programs for this kind of situation, right? The bulk of the hospital bills will be paid for.” 

Hospital bills? 

Her face scrunches. “It’s not the hospital bills I’m worried about. It’s after .” 

“Can someone tell us what’s goin’ on!” Masaru cuts in. 

When Brick stays uncharacteristically silent, their sensei leans back onto his hands. “Her mother and primary caretaker is currently in the hospital.” 

The ensuing silence is another he doesn’t know how to break. 

Sensei sighs softly. “Alright team. Let’s get to work. But before we start… let’s go over things we need to work on today.” 

Itachi straightens his spine. 

“Masaru, you’ve been doing well in polishing  taijutsu, but you need to work on your situational awareness. It is-” 

Terrible.

“Abysmal?” Brick cuts in.

“- I wasn’t going to say that.” Sensei sighs. 

Masaru smacks Itachi’s arm. 

Slightly offended, Itachi leans away slightly. “I didn’t say anything,” he says. 

“You thought it, though.” Masaru replies, the ‘ and I’m not going to hit Brick’ goes unsaid. 

Sensei ignores the byplay. “Itachi, you stand to improve your close range. You’re good, but you could be much better if you stopped hesitating to get in close.” 

Itachi nods. “Understood.” 

Sensei turns to Brick. “Brick, it’s admirable that you are training your body’s natural strength, but you’re neglecting your chakra manipulation in doing so. Yes, I know about your imbalance. But you still need to work on molding and channeling chakra much faster.” 

“Faster?” 

Sensei holds out his hand. “I can reinforce the muscles in my arm near instantaneously. How long does it take you?” 

Brick looks at her arm contemplatively. “Two seconds?” 

“Exactly. Two seconds too long.” 

“Yes Sensei.” 

Itachi looks at Brick thoughtfully. “What exactly is your chakra problem?” he asks. 

“Imagine you want to fill a cup with half coffee and half milk. Only the coffee is being poured out of a small pitcher, and the milk is coming out of a bucket. ” Brick waves a hand absently. “I have so much spiritual energy that in order to generate chakra, I have to focus on holding back a huge portion of it just so that it will mix evenly with the physical.” 

Masaru grimaces. “That’s why you exercise so much? To increase your physical energy?” 

Brick nods. “Yeah. And because it’s good for me in general. I’ve been working out for years now.” 

“I am impressed and terrified at your dedication.” Masaru says seriously. 

Itachi silently agrees. 

—

When her eldest son comes home even more subdued than usual, Mikoto knows something is wrong. Many would be hard pressed to see it in her stoic boy, but Mikoto is a mother. It’s in the slope of his shoulders, the slant of his mouth. And as a mother- and a kunoichi- she knows just how to weasel the info out of him. 

Sometimes, the toughest nut to crack just needs a little pressure.

“Itachi, dear. Come tell your mother about your day.” She says sweetly, lacing her words with the slightest hint of intent. 

She is so proud when he pointedly waits half a beat to flare his chakra, before stepping forward. He caught that genjutsu much faster this time. 

And then he stumbles on the chair she has been making appear two feet to the left this entire time. She still has things to teach him. 

Itachi dispels the second layer and sheepishly moves the chair, cheeks slightly pink. Aww. 

“So? How was your team training?” 

“What systems are in place for minors who are orphaned?” 

Thrown by the non sequitur, Mikoto blinks at her son. “Well… by clan laws they will be taken in by their closest paternal relatives. Unless they are a shinobi, whereas they are usually sent to the general housing in the district.” She explains. 

“No. No. Not clan policy. The ones for civilians.” He says. 

“Why do you ask?” 

He finally looks her in the eye. “My teammate. Her mother might die. And she has a younger brother to take care of. I was just worried…” he trails off. 

Mikoto studies her son's face. He’s serious about this. This is troubling him. 

“I don’t know, son. But I will find out.” Mikoto promises. 

—

Sleep is elusive. 

After two hours of useless tossing and turning, I roll out of bed with a sigh. Rock is still with ‘Ito-jiji’ and ‘Maki-baa’, treating his stay with Itsuo’s grandparents as one long extended sleepover. That leaves the house achingly quiet. 

Without thinking, I toss open my window and crawl outside. Barefoot, I start walking- not necessarily somewhere, just to go. It takes several minutes before I realize my feet are taking me towards the Inuzuka compound. 

The trek across the village does me some good in waking me up, and by the time I’m actually at the compound I’m aware enough to know this is a stupid idea. I’ve only ever been here with Hana- there’s no one to let me in the gates. 

However, after a painfully awkward minute spent staring at their houses, three familiar dogs come bounding up to me. 

“Haimaru?” 

Circling my legs, they start pushing me further inside the gates and I comply with a stumble. 

“Okay okay I’m coming.” I say to the three dogs. They’ve grown so much since the academy, they actually have the muscle to move me now. 

A couple feet from the clan head’s house, the door opens and Tsume waves me inside with a grumble. Chagrined, I slip past her and grimace at my dirty feet. 

“Go to bed, kid. Those three mutts will keep you company.” 

I blush. “How did you know?” I whisper. 

“I just know. Now scram. Hana has school tomorrow but she’ll be happy to see you in the morning.” Tsume says, before briskly striding back towards her room. 

With all of the purpose of excited dogs, the Haimaru triplets lead me towards a guest bedroom and practically dogpile me until I’m on the futon. 

I fall asleep immediately. 

In the morning, I’m woken up by Hana practically diving onto the futon. What I’m pretty sure is an elbow slams into my side while her hair smacks into my face. 

“Brick!” she yells, directly in my ear. 

Now I’ve never been a morning person- the shinobi life has slowly made it easier out of sheer necessity, but I wouldn’t say I’m the cheeriest apple in the bunch. 

“Hana I will grill you like a steak. Medium rare. Get off.” I hiss, chakra stuttering in annoyance. 

Three dogs and one human scramble off of me in a rush. 

“I’m just… excited to see you?” She tries. 

“Oh I’ll show you excitement . How’s your evasion training going?” 

Hana visibly gulps and runs out the door. 

Feeling marginally better, I chase her with a laugh. 

—

After seeing Hana off at the academy, ignoring the odd looks from the parents when I don’t join their kids inside, I jog over to the Yamanaka district. 

I’ve decided to take Rock up to the hospital to see mom. I’m not particularly sure if it’s a good idea, considering how painful the conversation will be, but the thought of not letting him see her is an even worse one. I don’t want the guilt of denying him time with her. 

Who knows how long we have left. 

Whatever good mood I accumulated at Hana’s evaporates pretty damn fast and I end up at their door with the beginnings of a tension headache. 

Aside from the general anxiety of my future as a shinobi, there’s the anxiety over the future future- Orochimaru and Pein and Obito and Madara- as well as my immediate future. Moms not… doing well and that scares the ever loving shit out of me. I didn’t realize how much I relied on her until the possibility of her being gone slapped me in the face. 

“Nee-san!” Rock runs and jumps into my arms. With a small oof I let him clamber his way onto my back, ignoring the iron grip he has on my hair to do so. Taking a chance to practice, I make sure he sticks to my back with a touch of chakra. Sensei was right. I have been neglecting it. 

Yamanaka Maki watches from the doorway with a slight smile. Meeting her eyes, I bow low at the waist. Rock giggles when I straighten back up. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime dear. He was a pleasure.”

With my day free, it being one of the rare days without team training, I take my time walking to the hospital. Partially to delay the upcoming conversation and partially to spend more time with my brother. Ever since I joined team Ensui, I’ve been spending more and more time outside the house. 

“Where are we going?” Rock asks, head clunking against my own as he leans forward to try and look at me. 

“We’re going to see mom, okay?”

“Okay.” 

By the time I walk through the doors to the hospital, Rock is dozing slightly on my back, head resting on my shoulder. The receptionist at the desk coos softly, but waves me inside. 

Mom is sitting up with a book when we enter, which is much better than the last time I visited. When she sees Rock on my back, her eyes light up and I know it was the right choice to bring him today. 

“Hey mom.” 

“Hi honey. Here. He must be heavy.” She says, making room on her bed. 

Despite knowing I could comfortably carry him for several hours yet, I gently place him next to her. 

“Any news?” I ask. 

Mom looks to the side. “No.” 

“Mom…” 

“Nothing that’s viable for us.” She relents. 

I frown. “How so?” 

“It’s… an experimental procedure. They would attempt to fix my eighth gate. But it’s costly and time consuming for the hospital, so it would be incredibly expensive. And the treatment would be yearly.” She explains.

“I thought our hospital bills were covered under the treatment act?” I ask, frowning.

“The stay. Not a possibly useless procedure.” 

“Stop saying useless! Why wouldn’t we try it?” 

“I would just be a burden.” She says, fiddling with her blanket. 

Suddenly angry, I strain to keep from yelling at her. “Who are you to decide that, huh? A burden? You’re our mother.” 

She flinches. 

I deflate immediately. “I’ll… I’ll push for C-ranks. We can take out a loan. Something . We’ll figure it out.” 

“I’ll think about it.” She whispers. 

—

With the latest D-rank a success, Masaru leads the way towards their meeting point, a cheerfully panting dog in tow. It’s been a week since they found out about Brick’s mom, and they’ve been taking non stop missions since then. Their current one was to locate a lost pet. They had split up the team to find the missing dog, and Masaru and Brick had run into each other while tracking the same trail. 

As they trudge towards the rendezvous point that Ensui-sensei marked for them, Masaru glances at the younger girl by his side. Her shoulders are stiff as she strides forward and there’s a furrow between her brows, and Masaru thinks that’s not right. Despite only knowing her for a short while, Masaru has come to anticipate the girl's brash attitude and sharp humor. Brick isn't supposed to be quiet. She’s not supposed to be sad.

“I think tomatoes are a fruit.” He says, breaking the silence. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Brick stumble slightly, face twisting. “Take that back you son of a bitch.” 

Masaru internally grins. Outrage is much better than sadness. “They have seeds.” 

“They’re vegetables.” She hisses. 

A familiar voice startles the both of them from behind. “A tomato is a fruit by botany standards and a vegetable by cooking standards.” 

Masaru whips around to see Itachi walking three feet behind them. Where… when the fuck-

“God dammit I am going to put a bell on you!” Masaru yells. 

Itachi, the little bastard, just blinks innocently. 

“You know, cats that wear bells actually adapt to become sneakier.” Brick chimes in. 

The three of them pause. The dog wags its tail.

“So we’re getting him a bell, right?” Masaru asks. 

Itachi looks appalled and it’s all the confirmation Brick needs. “It will be good training,” she grins. 

“Please don’t do that.” Itachi says plaintively. 

Masaru and Brick share a loaded glance. They’re definitely getting a bell. 

“How’d you even know that stuff about tomatoes anyways?” 

“Sasuke likes them.”

“I should have known.”

Goal accomplished, Masaru tunes out their conversation and focuses on the dog they just spent half an hour tracking across the village. A medium sized mutt, they had finally found it stuck in a fence. The silly dog was still wagging its tail even as they cut it free. 

“Sensei! We’re back!” Brick’s shout is loud in his ear. 

Ensui-sensei gives them a once over before nodding. “Good job kids. Brick and Itachi, go return the dog to the client. Masaru, you and I will take our report to the mission desk.” 

“Yes sensei!” All three genin chorus. 

As soon as the other two are out of the clearing, Sensei claps a hand on Masaru’s shoulder. 

“Good job.” 

“Sensei…?” He asks, puzzled. 

Sensei ruffles a hand through his hair. “For all of their genius, those two lack one important thing. Emotional intelligence. But you? You understand people. So. Thank you for doing what I couldn’t. Brick needed to take her mind off of her mother, and I know it was you that managed to cheer her up.” 

Ah. He sees what the problem is. Sensei feels inadequate. 

Masaru manages about three seconds before he says fuck it and throws his arms around the tall man. The Nara stiffens slightly before slowly bringing his arms up and patting Masaru’s back. 

“You’re doing just fine sensei. We’ll be okay.” He says, before pulling away. 

He’ll have to work on getting his sensei to open up. Clearly he also falls under the ‘genius that lacks emotional intelligence’ label. He decides then and there that he’s surrounded by emotionally stunted ninja that already desperately need therapy. They’ll get there. Eventually. One hug at a time. 

—

“Am I the only one who finds these meetings incredibly awkward?” I blurt out. 

Utatane-sama glares at me from over her tea. “Hush, girl. And sit up straight.” 

Grumbling under my breath, I straighten my back and place my palms on my thighs. Sitting seiza is torturous. Once again I wonder how my second life ended up like this. Is it karma? Did I kill someone in a past past life? It certainly wasn’t the previous one. 

 “Girl. You wanted to change the tax rates, correct? Then you get to crunch the numbers. Put together a report showing how it could work.” 

Jesus fuck I thought I was done with homework. This is sounding like college all over again, but worse . But… ultimately doable I admit to myself.

“I’ll need the original tax agreements, as well as financial records, promotion records, and census records.” I state bluntly.

Utatane-sama stares at me for a solid forty seconds. I try not to fidget. 

“Granted. But nothing leaves this room. You will be supervised.” 

“Understood.” 

As soon as the huge stack of files is placed before me, I immediately get started. Only to run into a major problem. 

“Utatane-sama? None of these are organized?” I ask as if it’s a question. 

“Congratulations. You’ve encountered the first taste of the minutiae of paperwork. Good luck.” 

“They’re… not even organized by date. Or clan. Anything!” I sputter. 

The old hag just smirks. 

With a mounting sense of dread, I slowly begin to sort the files. What have I gotten myself into?

The sun is setting when I finally drop my pen. 20 pages of painstaking calculations and arguments for my proposal. Organized like one of papers from a past life, with an introduction, thesis, and supporting arguments. 

Seriously. Fuck Koharu. I never wanted to write an argumentative thesis again yet here I am. Honestly, if I didn’t know about Kakashi, who they made a jounin at 12, I would question the sanity of this world that lets a 9 year old read classified documents. 

Granted, the documents in question are just old financial records but still. 

Slapping the pages onto her desk, I hobble out of her office without a backwards glance on legs that fell asleep hours ago. 

—

Ensui-sensei drops a bomb on us first thing in the morning. 

“If you want a C-rank, you have to last five minutes in a spar against me.” 

Gone is the generally laidback Nara they’ve come to know. In his place is the man that gained his rank through war. 

Masaru raises a hand. “What are the rules?” 

Sensei grins. It is not nice. “Survive. No leaving the training grounds. You can run, but a direct confrontation is required to pass.” 

I share a glance with my teammates. Itachi looks determined, and Masaru seems nervous but ready. I wonder what they see on my face. 

It must be something, because on some unspoken signal the three of us dash away from sensei and further into the woods. 

“Tachi, is he following?” I ask, grimacing at my failure to learn tree walking yet. Luckily our training ground doesn’t have a crazy amount of undergrowth like some of the rest of them. 

Itachi continues bounding forward at a steady pace. “No.” 

“Good. Masaru, what do you have on you?” 

“Some explosive tags. Kunai. Wire.” He replies, peering behind us at where we left sensei.

“Okay. Keep track of our time. We’ll stall so our fight is as short as possible... warn us when we have two minutes left.” 

Masaru nods. 

“Here should be fine.” Itachi says, slowing to a stop about 40 feet from the clearing. It’s far enough away that sensei can’t hear us plan, but close enough that I can make out his form through the trees. 

“He can still see us.” Masaru says. 

I frown. “That’s fine. He’ll probably always know where we are. This is just to get a little breathing room.” I raise a hand in the air, thinking hard, and begin ticking off fingers. “We’ll never be able to outsmart him. He was at the field before us, so any opportunity to lay traps was his by virtue of being here first. We won’t last in a direct confrontation, but we need one to pass. That leaves surprising him…” 

A plan slowly forms. 

“Okay guys… here’s what we’ll do…” 

—

Ensui watches them run away with a flash of amusement. Retreat in order to plan was their only viable option, but that doesn’t make it any less darkly amusing. If this were the field, if they were against a jonin, they would already be dead. 

Shaking off the dark turn his thoughts went to, Ensui languidly rolls his shoulders. He has high expectations for this bunch. He’ll be disappointed if they fail. That doesn’t mean he’ll go easy on them- just that he has faith they won’t need him to. 

When he was first assigned the little Uchiha as his apprentice, Ensui considered marching into the Uchiha compound and strangling Fugaku himself. The last person to graduate that early was Hatake, and that kid has more than a couple screws loose as a result. They don’t particularly need a repeat of Friend-Killer Kakashi. 

So he took things slow with the kid- never mind how fast he soaked up information like a sponge- and stressed the importance of a strong foundation. 

And then Masaru came, and Rie, and things were relatively stable for a while. Until Rie dropped out of her career and left the team unbalanced once again. 

When he was handed the file for her replacement, he almost walked out of the office. Another civilian-born, but this one graduating several years early. A “prodigy”- and how did he hate that word- with chakra issues. And, to make things worse- according to rumors, she had the attention of two council members. 

He almost failed her on principle so she’d spend more time at the academy. 

But then he noticed how Itachi, always so quiet, had begun to open up in her presence. And how Masaru has gained confidence and focus with a fellow civilian-born to serve as a benchmark for his own progress, and well… 

He’s glad. 

When his small little genin begin approaching him from the woods, he places his musings on the back burner. 

Predictably, in the lead is Brick. Her eyes glint with an inner fire that’s hard to find elsewhere and he once again wonders what drives her to work so hard. It usually takes a genin their first life or death situation to build that ambition to succeed. Perhaps the Kyuubi incident sparked it?

Besides her, Itachi crouches with a hand by his side. The Uchiha suddenly rises to his full height and launches a barrage of kunai. Ensui smirks and lazily deflects the projectiles. 

As if that was the signal, Brick launches forward and Ensui holds back a frown. He knows it’s her strong suit, but he expected a little more than straight taijutsu from the girl. 

And then his senses flare in warning and he swiftly knocks back a strike he swore wouldn’t connect. Flaring his chakra, Ensui breaks the illusion that caused Brick to appear several inches to the left and mentally applauds Itachi on his genjutsu work. 

And then the jutsu he’s been maintaining this entire time catches her. She looks down to see his shadow connecting to her own as he forces her feet to freeze. She frowns and glares at him. Back by the tree line, Itachi begins to run forward. 

“That was a good attempt, but you’ll need to do better than that-'' he's interrupted by Brick flashing through hand signs faster than he thought she could. What…?

And then he’s dodging a grand fireball to the face. His shadow disconnects at the harsh flare of light and he shunshins to the left in time for Masaru to kawarimi with Brick. The boy runs forward before throwing a punch. Holding up an arm, Ensui is completely unprepared for the shuddering force behind the blow. A swift kick comes for his head and he dodges, but before he can retaliate he is forced to block a kunai thrown by Itachi. 

And suddenly, the last puzzle piece clicks into place and he understands what’s going on. With a much harsher flare of chakra, Ensui breaks the illusion that made their transformation jutsus less noticeable and then shatters their transformations as well. That first genjutsu was a trick to make him think there was only one to break- he was expecting at least one and was satisfied when he found it. 

His perspective of the fight shifts several degrees. 

Who he thought was “Brick” was actually Itachi, explaining the grand fireball. “Itachi” was Masaru , providing long range support with kunai. And “Masaru” was Brick , using his distraction to land a punishing barrage of taijutsu. 

Their five minutes end and Ensui holds up a hand. His genin all freeze and lower their stances. 

Ruffling the back of his head, Ensui can’t help but laugh. “Good job kids. You pass. Take tomorrow off, and I’ll see you the next day.” 

Their smiles are blinding. 

—

Two days later, we get our wish. Sensei tosses a mission scroll at Masaru first thing in the morning. Inside? 

Our first C-rank as a team. 

Chapter Text

The mission scroll unrolls with the soft whisper of paper sliding against itself. I immediately go to peek over Masaru’s shoulder, grabbing Itachi’s sleeve so that the three of us are huddled over the paper. 

“Delivering rations to the Kusa border. See the quartermaster for said supplies and deployment schedule. ” Masaru reads out loud. “Sensei, this sounds boring.” 

I smack his arm. “Don’t jinx it!” 

Masaru waves an arm in apology. “Sorry sorry. Sensei, this sounds like a super exciting mission!” His voice drips sarcasm. 

Sensei sighs. “Alright kids. We’ll all head over to the warehouse so you get the experience, but we’ll be splitting up to pack.” 

I sheepishly raise my hand. 

“I, uh, skipped the year they teach appropriate mission preparation.” 

Sensei looks pained for a second. 

“Itachi? You too?”

The youngest nods solemnly. 

“Alright, new plan. After the warehouse, I’ll head to the Uchiha compound with Itachi. Masaru can tag along with Brick. We’ll meet back up and I’ll check everyone over.” 

Plan set, we set out for the quartermaster’s office. The system for distributing supplies throughout Konoha and its surroundings is actually fairly simple, all told. The actual system for acquiring goods, keeping records, and determining what goes where is probably intentionally complicated, but the distribution side of things is easy to follow. 

Go to quartermaster. Supply mission scroll. Get the requisition list. Go to the designated warehouse. Get supplies. Put in a storage scroll.

Easy. 

All too soon we’re splitting up to go back and all of the anxiety over my first time outside the village I’ve been hiding comes back full force. 

“Let’s go to my house first, okay? I’ll show you how to pack.” Masaru says, awkwardly ruffling his hair. “My parents can be a little… much, though, so try not to pay them too much attention.” 

“Okay?” I draw the word out. 

“Just… let’s go.” The brown haired boy shrugs, turning on his heel to lead us through the streets. I’m incredibly curious, because for all I see of him at training, I know next to nothing about Masaru’s home life. 

While my family is a civilian one, we still live relatively close to the heart of the village, where the edges of the Yamanaka district intersect with the Akimichi one. The area is mostly commercial, with several of the more civilian friendly Akimichi restaurants and shops, but we’re still a stone's throw from the shinobi establishments that litter the area.

Masaru’s house is nowhere near anything like that. 

He leads me several districts over to the predominantly civilian sector. Nestled between a small park and a bookstore is a quaint two story home. There’s an obnoxiously cheerful garden gnome and an honest to god picket fence.

“It’s… yellow.” I say carefully keeping any inflection out of my voice. 

“Oh shut up.” Masaru grumbles half heartedly. 

The minute we open the door, I’m blasted with the scent of candles. It’s a wonder Masaru doesn’t reek of vanilla if his house smells like this . 

“Honey! You’re home early!” A woman says, head sticking from around a corner. “Who’s this?” 

She has brown curls, a couple shades darker than Masaru’s. I feel Masaru tense up where my arm is pressed against his side. Worried, I bump his shoulder and he relaxes slightly. 

“Mom, this is Brick Lee. She’s my genin teammate.” He explains. 

“Oh how cute!” his mom gasps, turning to look at me closer. “But aren’t you a little young to be playing ninja?” 

What?

I shoot Masaru a desperate glance and he grimaces. 

“Mom… Brick is a kunoichi of Konoha…” he begins, faltering at the frown that forms on her face. 

“But she’s younger than you!” The woman huffs. 

I’m desperate to escape this conversation already. Maybe I could just leave…?

Suddenly, Masaru scowls. “Mom. Brick regularly folds me in half like a lawn chair. She’s put me into the dirt more than enough to be perfectly qualified to be a ninja. Now if you’ll excuse us.” 

So saying, he pushes past his gobsmacked mother and begins up the stairs. I awkwardly follow him. 

“Like a lawn chair, huh?” I say, trying to break the tension. 

Masaru turns towards me, eyes serious. “Yes.” 

I have nothing to say to that. 

We finally make it to his room and I try not to stare. The bedroom is one of the most personal places in a house, and Masaru clearly put a lot of attention into his. Art decorates the walls and I notice several cookbooks lining his shelves. 

Masaru grabs a pack from his closet and gestures for me to come closer. 

“So what you’ll want to grab…” 

—

We meet at the front gates and I resist the urge to grin. Where we all generally wore whatever training, it seems that for our first mission as a team we individually decided to glow the fuck up. 

Itachi is finishing wrapping bandages around his arms, to match the ones on his legs. His outfit screams stereotypical Uchiha though, with a navy wide collared shirt and dark shorts. 

Masaru has a light blue jacket over his normal black top and moved his hitae-ate from his head to around his thigh. His black cargo pants have so many pockets that I’m momentarily jealous. 

In contrast to their relatively muted color choices, though, I decided that if Naruto could rock bright orange then I could have some fun with my outfit, too. My normal white shirt is tucked into bright neon pink shorts. Blazoned across my chest are the letters B A S T A R D. Underneath my shorts are a pair of black athletic tights that end mid thigh, and hidden under my shirt lies a mesh shinobi armor top. 

I finish retying my hitae-ate belt around my waist and pump a fist. 

“Let’s go!” I shout, gleefully striding out of the gates. 

Sensei snorts softly and soon the four of us are heading east at a decent pace. 

It being my first time outside the village, I spend a solid hour taking in the huge hashirama trees and all of the flora and fauna that lies beneath them. The Land of Fire is beautiful, sporting a temperate climate that supports a diverse array of life. Many of these plants can be found inside konoha proper, but not in the same amount found outside the walls. 

We spend the majority of the first day simply running, interspersed with stretches of walking to give us genin a rest. Since only Itachi and Sensei know tree walking, we stick to the large road that leads towards Kusa. We share the road with some caravans and civilian travelers, who all politely step to the side when they see us loping towards them. 

One old man leading a pack mule smiles knowingly at Sensei as we pass. This must be a popular route for fresh genin. 

When we make camp that night, I sidle up to Sensei’s side and poke his arm. “So Sensei. Do you have a girlfriend? ” My tone is teasing. “Or a boyfriend? Really, Sensei. You should tell us more about yourself!” 

Sensei turns away from the fire pit he’s been digging. “Brick just volunteered for the middle watch.” 

“Aw man.” I groan. The middle shift is notoriously the worst- it has two short bursts of interrupted sleep rather than the longer stretches first and last watch enjoy. 

Masaru snickers across the clearing and I stick my tongue out at him in retaliation. 

“You wanna place bets?” I ask. 

Masaru glances at Sensei’s expression and swiftly shakes his head. 

Itachi looks up from the rabbit he’s been skinning and chimes in, “100 ryo Sensei has a girlfriend. He does not seem like a bachelor.” 

Clearly Itachi has no fear. 

“I bet he has a boyfriend. He wears green eyeliner .” I say. 

Sensei bristles. “Hey!” 

“No shade Sensei. I’d rather date a girl than a boy.” I flop a hand over and grin. 

That shakes Sensei out of his indignation and straight into horror. “No! No dating until you’re fifteen at least.” 

I laugh. 

—

The entire five day journey to the border outpost was uneventful, and even the handoff of supplies was calm. The part of me that had been waiting for disaster relaxed as we turned to head back to the village. After all, Naruto’s team faced a famous missing nin on their first C-rank- I kind of assumed fate would deal us the same. 

When no cliche villain stepped out of the shadows, I breathed a sense of relief. 

I shouldn’t have let my guard down. 

I should have remembered that this world is populated with more than the ninja that fight in it. It also houses ordinary people, people with dreams and fears and vices. 

Like greed. 

Two days into our journey back home, just as the sun is cresting the horizon, I see smoke rising over the trees. 

Sharing a glance with my team, we pick up the pace. 

All too soon we come across the source of the smoke. Overturned and lying in the ditch sits a wagon. The horses that were pulling it lie crumpled in the dirt, arrows littering their bodies. 

Sensei puts a hand up and we stop 15 feet from the wagon. There’s obvious signs of an ambush, with the smoke coming from the back of the cart. The body of a young man lies in the dirt, a huge pool of blood around him.

“Wait here.” He says, palming a kunai. 

I swallow and slide one into my hand as well. 

Sensei slowly approaches the wagon before suddenly dashing towards it. 

“Masaru! Come here. Brick and Itachi, fan out and look for more people.” He says. 

I step forward until I can see what caught his attention. Lying underneath the crashed wagon is the form of an old woman. It takes several seconds but I finally notice that her chest is still rising and falling. 

Masaru carefully edges past the body before going to Sensei. 

With renewed vigor, I leave Sensei to guide Masaru through moving her away from the wagon in order to perform basic first aid and tug Itachi towards the forest. 

“I’ll check south. You take west.” Itachi murmurs before drifting away. 

On the outside, I slowly scan the trees for signs of other survivors. Internally, though, my mind is racing. While we are relatively close to the border, we’re still far enough into the Land of Fire that there shouldn’t be enemy action. We were just passing here days ago! 

The answer which should have been obvious hits me. Bandits.

Finding nothing, I head in a rough spiral back towards the cart, simultaneously dreading and hoping to catch anything. 

Nothing. 

When I make it back to the main road, Masaru is supporting the old lady in sitting up and Itachi is speaking softly with Sensei. He gestures vaguely south-east. By their grim expressions, I assume he found more bodies. 

Bodies. 

I ruthlessly shove the panic down and avoid looking at the man in the road. 

With a voice like gravel, the woman coughs before addressing Sensei. “Shinobi-san. They took everything from me. My son. My husband. My goods. I want them dead.” 

I flinch at the emptiness in her eyes. 

Sensei walks forward and kneels in front of the white haired woman. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

Sensei looks her in the eye. “O-baa-san, we might be shinobi, we might be demons and killers, but if you ask this of me, it will be blood on your hands. And I do not work for free. So I ask again. Are you sure?” 

“ Yes damn you. I have money. But what I need is revenge, can’t you see? I have nothing left. Nothing left.” 

At that she starts sobbing, and I step back half a step. 

“Sensei…?” Masaru’s voice wavers. 

The man who I teasingly jabbed in the arm days ago is nowhere to be seen. In his place stands a man who just agreed to murder. No- assassination. Ice runs down my spine. 

“Kids. Wait here. Protect our new client. I’ll be back.” 

And he disappears in a flash. 

Shakily, I release a breath and stumble towards the forest. I just have to- I need to sit down. 

Abstractly, some part of me knew . 

The career path I had chosen was not a nice one, or a violence free one. There was a reason I was learning how to stab the femoral artery, how to crush windpipes with my fists. 

It’s another matter to be confronted with it. 

Itachi comes and sits next to me a few minutes later. And when he places a small hand in mine, I let him. 

—

Sensei comes back three hours later with a sack over his shoulder and several pieces of cloth in his hand. He sets down the sack which I can see is filled with rice and places the pieces of cloth one by one in front of the woman. 

After she had stopped crying, she sat almost catatonic for an hour before slowly crawling towards the young man. The three of us had been alternating between keeping watch and slowly digging a pit for the horses. We agreed it wouldn’t be good to leave them to rot in the hot sun. The fire had long since burned out. At some point Itachi went and gathered the husband, and laid him next to the son. 

When I had shakily offered to dig a grave for her loved ones, the woman had taken a swipe at me. I easily sidestepped it and awkwardly retreated. 

Now I watch, blank, as Sensei places cloth before her. Upon closer inspection, they’re all clearly torn from articles of clothing. Some are bloody.

“Proof, for you. If you need more, the bodies are four miles south east.” 

“I have to get my family home to bury them.” She murmurs.

Sensei tilts his head. “Do you require assistance?” 

“Oh fuck off. Take your payment and go, shinobi-san.” 

Sensei lays a sealing scroll next to her, murmuring how to seal up the bodies and then we retreat towards Konoha. 

—

We last an hour traveling in silence before Masaru snaps. 

“What the fuck was that, Sensei?” He shouts. I silently echo the sentiment.

Surprisingly, Itachi places a hand on Masaru’s shoulder. “It was necessary.” 

All of the tension in the Nara’s shoulders bleeds out of them. “Yes. Yes it was,” he breathes. “The war and the kyuubi attack devastated us, in more ways than one. Konoha desperately needs money. All shinobi above chuunin have been instructed to take any additional missions we find in the field, as long as they don’t interfere with our sanctioned one. And unfortunately, bandits have been more common while supply chains are still repairing themselves.” 

“My cousins have described similar situations to me, Masaru. It’s happening to everyone. Tensions are high right now. Assassination requests are popular, since its the first thing civilians think of when they think ‘shinobi’.” Itachi adds. 

Sensei clenches his fist. “I did not want our first C-rank together to go like this. It shouldn’t have gone like this, and I shouldn’t have accepted her request. Not with you three with me. It was inappropriate for a genin team to witness. For that I am sorry.” He says. 

I breathe out a long sigh. “You’re forgiven, Sensei. Just please- please don’t act that scary again.” 

“I’ll try.” 

—

The minute they leave the mission desk after handing in their mission reports, Itachi snags his teammates by the backs of their shirts.

Suddenly painfully shy, he lets go. “Team dinner. My house.” 

Brick smiles, and it looks mostly normal, but there’s something missing in the eyes. “Sure. Let’s all get cleaned up, though. We’ve been sleeping in the woods and running and stuff.” 

Itachi nods and turns to Ensui-sensei. “You are invited as well.” 

The man who has been teaching him the past three years studies him intensely. Itachi tries not to think about how this is the first time he’s invited his Sensei to anything. 

He nods. “There’s some things I need to take care of, but sure. I’ll be there.” 

Good. After a mission like that, they deserve a night with the good old fashioned Uchiha recipe for winding down- sharp witty banter and good food. 

In a rare moment of social clarity, Itachi remembers that to other people, his house is stifling and awkward to be in. The last outsiders his family entertained politely excused themselves after only an hour. Maybe it’s just fellow Uchiha who like the sly biting remarks and sharp teasing his family enjoys. He’s never met anyone who could read the entire conversations that can be held with an artfully raised eyebrow except fellow family. 

In a clan of genjutsu users who regularly see everything with the clarity of a sharingan, silence speaks volumes. 

Oh well. 

At least they’ll get good food out of it. 

When he gets home, he calls a soft greeting and shuffles into his house slippers. 

Mother sticks her head around the corner, eyes sharingan red, and beckons him forward. “Quick quick- look at Sasuke. He's trying to ‘paint his face like mommy’.” 

Sasuke sits in the living room, rubbing a paintbrush over his cheeks with all of the focus of a two year old on a mission. His little scowl of concentration is adorable and Itachi momentarily despairs his lack of a sharingan. He wishes he could capture the moment forever. 

“Ah. Mother, I invited my team over for dinner. Please be gentle with them, our mission had an unexpected last minute alteration.” 

“Oh?” 

“Bandits.” 

“Ah. I’ll make odamaki udon.” 

His father’s favorite. So he would be home as well.

“I understand.” 

“Good. Now go wash up.” 

—

Itachi smiles softly when he hears a knock on the door. Padding silently to the front of the house, he opens it to see Brick and Masaru animatedly arguing over the best flavor of dango. 

The older girl cuts off mid sentence and offers him a bright smile. Itachi takes a moment to wonder what he did to deserve teammates like these. Who share smiles like that with him. When he first graduated, he worried that his teammates would resent him. Obviously he was worried for nothing. 

“Please come in.” He says softly, gesturing at the guest slippers. 

Brick barrels forward without hesitation while Masaru is more cautious. 

“When do you think Sensei will get here? Oh wow, Tachi, sweet digs.” She says, peering at the traditional style decorations. 

Mother takes that as her cue to come out and introduce herself. “Hello everyone.” 

Masaru squeaks and bows while Brick absently echoes the motion. “You have a beautiful home, Uchiha-sama.” 

Mother looks quietly pleased even as she demurs. 

“Well come in, come in. There’s tea in the other room for you guys. We can all introduce ourselves over drinks.” 

Itachi guides his teammates towards their sitting room and sits sedately at the low table. Masaru awkwardly copies his posture while Brick chooses to lounge like a particularly large cat. 

“So, kids. You must be Masaru and Brick. How has your training been going?” 

“It’s nice to meet you. And we’ve been working very hard! Sensei wanted to start us on tree and water walking soon, but we’ve been waiting for Brick to catch up with chakra control first.” Masaru explains. 

“Ah. It’s not my fault okay! I’ve been working on my chakra problems since the academy. It’s so hard though.” Brick complains, slumping even further. 

Mother watches them with thinly veiled curiosity. “Chakra issues?” 

Brick flushes bright red. “Ah. Well. I have a severe chakra imbalance, and I may or may not have inherited some pathway troubles from my mother. It’s too early to tell, though.” 

Mother hums. “Could I take a look with my sharingan?” 

“Oh. Uh. Sure.” 

Her eyes flicker red and she hums. “Please channel chakra, Brick-chan.” 

When she blinks and deactivates her eyes, Itachi is amused to notice that she has three pairs of eyes locked onto her. 

“While I cannot see your pathways as well as a Hyuuga might, I can see the disruption in your chakra. It appears that your spiritual chakra is overpowering the physical. It should be manageable, though. With enough time and training it should eventually balance.” 

“All things we knew,” Brick breathes out, “but thank you.” 

“It was no problem, child. Now, how was your mission?” 

The mood instantly sours. Much more somber, Itachi shakes his head. “We completed our primary objective just fine. But we encountered the aftermath of a bandit attack on our return. Sensei accepted a... clean up job from the survivor.” 

Mother slowly nods in understanding. “It was the first time seeing death for you two, wasn’t it?” She asks, addressing the civilian born members of his team. 

They’re interrupted by a knock at the door, and Mikoto smoothly stands to go open it. 

The minute she leaves the room Brick groans into her hands. “Is it that easy to see how shook up I am about it?” She asks. 

Itachi hums. “Maybe, maybe not. My mother is just perceptive. Frankly I would be more concerned if you two had taken it better.” 

He glanced up to see Masaru scrutinizing him. “How come it didn’t bother you as much, Itachi?” 

He frowns slightly, glancing away. He wishes Masaru didn’t notice. “My father took me to a battlefield when I was younger. I have already been exposed to death.” 

Brick shoots upright. “That’s bullshit! Who let him do that?” 

Itachi makes a shushing motion with his hand and glances at the door, just in time for his mother’s voice to drift down the hallway. All three of them immediately lean forward to eavesdrop. 

“... it’s so nice to have people over, Nara-san. Thank you two for coming.” 

Masaru pokes Brick and mouths two?

Sensei’s smooth voice rumbles a response. 

Mother laughs. “Ah. Okay then, Ensui-san, Yasushi-san. The kids are this way.” 

All three of them slide back into the position they were in when she left. 

Mother takes one step into the room and laughs. “If you wanted to hide your eavesdropping, son, you should have kept up the conversation.” 

Itachi ducks his head so no one can see his cheeks turn pink. 

Behind her Ensui-sensei’s long figure ducks into the room, and behind his shoulder Itachi spots a much shorter man with deep blue hair. The man who must be ‘Yasushi-san’ has a softness to his face and hands that mark him as a civilian. 

Brick is practically leaning over Masaru to stare at the man and Sensei shoots a longsuffering glance at the ceiling. 

“Team, this is my partner, Handa Yasushi.” He says, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Yasushi brings a hand up to interlock their fingers and Itachi flinches at the elbow Brick throws into his side. 

If Sensei or Mother notice the hand she digs into his pocket that pulls out his wallet, they don’t acknowledge it. After counting out 100 ryo for herself, Brick smoothly puts his wallet back. 

Itachi doesn’t even want to know how she knew what pocket he kept it in. 

“Oh Ensui has told me so much about you three!” Yasushi says brightly before continuing in a stage whisper, “I heard about team dinner and bullied him into bringing me.” 

A slow grin spreads across Brick’s face. “Oh Mr. Boyfriend, we are going to get along fantastically.” 

—

100 ryo richer, I pat Masaru on the arm. “You should have placed a bet.” 

Masaru shoots me a glare. “I like my life as it is, thank you. I wasn’t risking Sensei’s wrath.” 

“I think betting on his love life is fair game. Don’t worry. If you start dating I’ll be just as obnoxious.” I grin. 

“You shouldn’t even be talking about this. You’re nine.” 

“I have an old soul.” 

Across the room Sensei snorts into his cup and starts coughing, causing Yasushi-san to start pounding on his back. 

Mikoto excuses herself to go finish dinner, so Masaru and I convince Itachi to show us the gardens outside. 

He acquiesces easily, and it’s simple to see the genuine happiness in his eyes as he begins describing the various plants and flowers artfully arranged in the yard. 

“My cousin Shisui brought this back from the land of waves for me. It’s native to one of the small islands there, and I have to keep a close eye on it so it doesn’t die…. It has medicinal properties so my father allowed me to plant it.” 

It’s hard to get Itachi to say more than two sentences on anything, so it’s nice to let him talk about something he enjoys. I sneak Masaru a fist bump when Itachi’s back is turned. 

Soon enough, we’re called back inside and I see an imposing man with dark hair who can only be Fugaku speaking quietly with Sensei.  Itachi’s soft smile is replaced with a mask of indifference and I frown slightly. If I’m correct, this man is the impetus for the stress lines already forming on my teammate’s face. I’m not a fan.

As we approach, he turns to the three of us and Masaru hastily bows. Itachi places a firm hand on my back and pushes me down into a bow as well. 

“Thank you for allowing us into your home.” Masaru stutters out. 

“Ah. Yeah. Thanks.” I say mulishly. 

The piercing gaze I am treated to speaks a thousand words. Clearly Fugaku is trying to use his clan’s famous fire jutsu with his glare alone. 

Mikoto calls us to eat and I break eye contact gratefully.

As we sit down to dinner, the atmosphere cools considerably, thanks to the man at the head of the table. Silence descends.

I watch Yasushi-san awkwardly glance between our hosts and decide to spare him. 

“Ah, Mr. Boyfriend. What do you do?” I ask politely. 

The relief in his frame is palpable. “I work with retired shinobi on reintegrating into society. Often it’s by finding things to occupy their time.” 

Fugaku scoffs and I ignore him. 

“Oh cool! That must be very difficult, Mr. Boyfriend. And noble.” I reply. 

Yasushi’s face transforms into shock. “Why- why yes, it is difficult actually. Most don’t consider the logistics- er- the management of it when I tell them my job.” 

“Well, almost 40% of retiring age shinobi end up refusing to leave service and die on the job, right? It must be difficult to prevent such tragedies with the current system. So yes. Difficult and noble.” I explain, ignoring the blatant looks of shock Fugaku and Mikoto are sending my way. 

Yasushi’s eyes light up. “Yes! Yes! And another large percentage of those that do retire are crippled, or end up commiting suicide within 5 years.” He seems to realize what he just said at the dinner table, in front of a bunch of genin no less, because he flushes and closes his mouth. 

“Ah. See, it’s because they still need to feel useful, and the jobs they end up working are seen as being ‘benched’. We as a society either need to place more respect on office work and teaching, or we need to find jobs that are suitable for retired ninja to do.” I rant, arms waving. 

Sensei leans forward. “Do you have any suggestions, Brick?” 

“Oh yes. Integrate them into the Military Police.” 

Fugaku, who has been following the conversation, slams a hand on the table. “Absolutely not. The military police has been clan run and operated since its inception.” 

“Yeah, but it would free up your younger clansmen from desk jobs and allow them to take missions outside the village. I’m sure even a retired shinobi can handle some rowdy civilians, and someone who is missing a leg or an arm can handle investigations or the evidence room. You could even put them in the narcotics department.” I explain. 

Fugaku’s face twists but he doesn’t refute my statement. Instead, he turns his glare on Itachi. “What have you been telling people about our clan, boy?” 

Itachi raises his hand in a placating gesture. “Nothing. That’s just how she is.” 

Masaru chimes in, “Yeah, she once spent an hour talking about sustainable aquaculture.” 

“It’s important!”

Sensei abruptly stands and taps his boyfriend on the shoulder. “Thank you for the meal, Mikoto-san, but we must be going.” 

 “Oh, Brick, you’ve given me such wonderful ideas!” Yasushi gushes as he stands up. “I would love to discuss things with you again!” 

Taking this as an opportunity to beat a hasty retreat away from Fugaku, I grab Masaru’s shirt and haul him with me. “Masaru’s gonna walk me home. Thank you for dinner, I’ll see you later, Tachi!” 

“Whuh-” Is all Masaru gets out before we’re out the door.

—

The minute their guests leave the house and Itachi leaves for his room her husband huffs into his sake. “What an insolent brat. Far too brash. Even her speech is uncouth.” Fugaku says, setting down his cup and folding his hands under his chin. 

Mikoto scoffs. “Foolish husband. If you can’t see past the facade of a child I despair to know what else your eyes are missing.”

“So it’s an act?”

“No, not an act. Armor. Just because she uses it to hide her thoughts doesn’t make her behavior any less true.” 

Her husband frowns. “Still.” 

Mikoto ignores the urge to strangle some sense into the man. She loves him, she does, but his lack of social and political insight is exhausting. “Husband dearest, who proposed the tax changes?” 

“Utatane.”

“And who has been having weekly meetings with the woman?” 

It takes several seconds for him to put the pieces together. “You don’t mean to tell me that child-”

She interrupts with an imperceptible flash of chakra. “Oh, I’m sure it’s a heavily doctored and watered down version of whatever was originally proposed. But the heart of the matter is that ‘ that child’ is influencing village policy.” 

“What is Koharu thinking?” he says, slamming a hand on the table. “Advice from a child?”  

Mikoto smiles, sharp and sleek. “I assume she is crafting a successor. An unusual choice at first glance, but a good one. She did make intelligent and informed points about the military police.” 

Her husband stares at the table for a second. “I think we need that child’s favor.” 

“ I think it’s time I paid a visit to her mother.” 

—

Chapter Text

After being forced to take a cold hard look at the violence inherent to shinobi life, it takes several hours of contemplation and self reflection on the matter of my future before I feel more sure about my training as a killer. Perhaps if the future was going to be anything less than absolutely batshit, I would have gone into Intel. A nice, safe, intellectually stimulating hobby tinkering with linguistic analysis, perhaps. 

But I don’t have the luxury of safety. I know what is coming and the weight of the future hangs over me like a blade. Being a shinobi is the only path forward.

The only problem is my spotty knowledge of the future. The Naruto storyline was long and winding in its complexity, but it also skipped large chunks of time simply because they weren’t important to Naruto or anyone adjacent to him. Anything close to my current time mostly followed Kakashi- anything else was glossed over. 

The next important event I could remember was Itachi joining ANBU- which is several years away at best. 

What use is future knowledge if I don’t even live to see it happen? If I don’t survive long enough to use it?

I need to just… make it to the parts I know. 

Easy.

The morning after team dinner I get up extra early to burn off restless energy. The rhythmic pounding of my fists against the training post is almost soothing at this point. Ritualistic. 

I don’t even notice my knuckles are red and raw until a hand gently but firmly grips my wrist and stops my motion. 

Startled, I flinch back and look up to see Sensei’s green-lined eyes. I didn’t even see him. I didn’t even hear him. Is the difference between genin and jonin really so large?

“Something on your mind?” He asks. 

“Were we supposed to meet up today? I thought we had off.” I mumble, tugging my hand back to inspect it. 

Sensei looks at me for a long moment. “No. I just came to check up on you. But that wasn’t the question.” 

With an internal wince, I despair at having a Nara sensei. You can’t slip anything past the man. 

Sighing, I slump forward and let my tumbling thoughts pour out. “No matter how young you start, you can’t exactly acclimate everyone to murder. To violence. Then there would be no social code against it. So if you can’t make it taboo but you can’t encourage it, either. There has to be a balance. So you tie it to a profession and that profession to your village. And they’re the good guys. The protectors. The heroes. And everyone else? Either those needing protection or your enemies. And you teach this young.” 

Sensei nods slowly. 

“Aren’t you just… tired of it all? The hypocrisy? The village system was started to end the bloodshed. Now we’re just better at justifying it. We all tell ourselves we’re the civilized ones and they’re the barbarians. But it’s all the same . I wish we could just do away with it all. End the whole system of institutionalized violence.” 

“This isn’t a conversation for standing, I think.” He mutters, slowly lowering himself to the ground and waiting until I sit down as well. The grass tickles my bare legs. 

He’s silent for a moment before he lets out a chuckle. “Y’know, I can’t believe I got two idealistic revolutionaries on my team. Have you and Itachi been talking? No, don't answer that. Next thing you know Masaru will be telling me he’s dismantling the patriarchy.” 

I bark out a startled laugh. “I’d love to see it.” 

“Yeah, I thought so. The three of you are going to be the death of me.” 

“Ha! Hardly. We’ll kill capitalism first.” 

This prompts a snort before he falls quiet. We share a companionable silence watching the clouds before he slaps his thighs and levers himself to his feet. 

“You’re bright enough and stubborn enough to tackle the world's challenges, Brick. Just make sure you don’t burn yourself out along the way. You can’t save everyone and you can’t fix everything, so pick your battles and win them.” 

Awed, I stare up at him. 

“Now. I haven’t scared you off my team, have I?” He asks, scratching his cheek. “I think people would start asking some questions if my second kunoichi dropped as well.” 

I shake my head with a grin. “Not at all.”

“Good. You have another mission in three days.”

— 

Mikoto can’t remember the last time she was on this side of the village. After taking leave from active duty to raise her sons and after the compound was moved, she had little reason to be on this side of the village.

Let alone the hospital. 

The painfully young girl at the reception desk squeaks when Mikoto strolls in, and she has to squash the urge to roll her eyes. 

The girl informs her that the woman she is here to see has been placed in the long term care ward, so Mikoto smiles politely and makes her way upstairs. 

Just outside the door she hears raised voices emanating from the room, and she pauses and carefully channels chakra through her ears. 

“What do you mean you want to cancel the treatment?” Her son’s teammate says, hurt and anger lacing her tone. 

Mikoto is about to step away and come back another time when another voice softly replies. 

“I’ll be nothing but a burden to you two. I’ve seen the numbers. This is something you will never be able to repay on a genin’s salary. Not even a chunin one.” 

“You think I care? We’ll figure it out, we always do. I can take out a loan.” 

Feeling slightly awkward now, something she hasn’t felt in years, Mikoto debates interrupting them or just leaving the hospital. 

“We’ll be in debt for the rest of your life.” 

This prompts a sharp laugh from Brick, a sound that is eerily wrong to hear from the mouth of such a young girl. “I’ve already sold my body and soul to the village, Mom. A little financial debt won’t make a difference.” Pure derision and sarcasm seeps from the girl. 

The older woman’s breath hitches. 

“Oh mom. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“It’s okay.”

“No… not it’s not. Hey, do you remember what Dad always used to say? Stronger than the mountain…”

“Taller than the trees.” The woman finishes.

Mikoto hears the hospital bed creak. “Lee’s don’t give up. We fight. We endure. So please… we’ll figure it out.”

“... okay.” 

Mikoto quietly leaves, having heard enough. She came to better judge the kind of person her son’s teammate was, the kind of family she came from. 

Stronger than the mountain, taller than the trees.

They’re a family of stone hard convictions. 

Her son would be just fine. 

But something she overheard scratches at her mind, her thoughts catching on the words over and over again. 

We’ll be in debt for the rest of your life.

Mikoto spins on her heel and resolves to check the clan documents on recent medical procedures. She knows there is a disparity between civilian pricing, shinobi pricing, and even clan shinobi pricing, but the kind of money needed to put a shinobi into lifelong debt is astronomical. Is price gouging against civilians truly so bad?

She’s spent so long with her eyes firmly within the clan’s walls, that she has no idea the state of the rest of the village. 

Perhaps isolation runs two ways. 

—

“Well I’m saying that that test was bullshit. He quizzed us on some obscure chakra theory we never learned!” Hana explains, animatedly waving her arm. 

Beside me, Itsuo scoffs. “Nidaime's second law of conservation isn't exactly obscure.”  

I sneak a glance at Hana and she looks just as confused as me. When she raises an eyebrow I shrug slightly and mouth no idea. But when Itsuo looks back at me I instantly put on a knowing expression and nod sagely. 

“Yeah Hana. Even I know about it.” I say slyly. 

Hana kicks my ankle. 

“See!” Itsuo crows, “I’m right.” 

Hana groans. “Sure buddy. The point is, I totally failed that test. I’m doomed.” 

Sensing an opportunity to poke fun, I grab my friends’ arms and tug them into a group huddle. “You know what will make you feel better?” 

Itsuo tries to back away, “I want nothing to do with whatever you consider fun-”

“Shopping!” I interrupt. At the dreaded S word, Hana tries to bolt but I simply lock my arm around her head. 

All hesitance gone and in a complete role reversal with Hana, Itsuo brightens up immediately. “You promise?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go! I have something I need to find.”

“What do you need?” Hana cuts in, voice muffled where I shoved it against my chest. 

Convinced Hana won’t immediately bolt at the prospect of potentially spending time in a clothing store with Itsuo, I let her go. She immediately stumbles back, face red. “S-so?”

I allow a smirk to spread across my face. 

“Jewelry.” 

She vanishes, the Haimaru brothers clumsily sprinting after her. I’m suitably impressed at her speed. 

“She doesn’t even run that fast in class…” Itsuo mutters petulantly. “I wanted to make her try on that shirt I saw the other day… okay but seriously, what did you need to buy? Because you hate earrings, and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing rings on the hands you punch with.”

Glad that he remembered my distaste for jewelry, I preen slightly. “Nothing for me- it’s for a birthday gift. I do need to keep things on the cheap side though.” 

“Ah…” 

“Y’know, I think you should meet my teammate. You two have a lot in common.” I say, slapping a hand on his back. I see Itsuo blink at my non-sequitur but I barrel on before he can interrupt with questions. “Actually- let’s go get him! He should help us pick out what I need to get anyways.” 

“Are you serious?” Itsuo whines. “Okay, okay, let’s go meet this teammate. I’ve been meaning to vet him anyways. I swear, if he’s not good enough for you-” 

“Woah! Woah! Cool it Cujo. I swear you’re worse than the Haimaru brothers.” I say, grabbing his arm to lead him towards Masaru’s house. “I get it, bark bark. Don’t worry, you were my friend first. I swear, between you and Hana I’m surrounded by dogs.”

“Kujo..?” He mutters under his breath, and I ignore him to continue leading the way. 

As we arrive at Masaru’s, I glare at the garden gnome as I knock on the door. Thankfully, it’s Masaru that answers instead of his mother. I don’t think I could handle another dose of her so soon. While he smiles when he sees me, he falters slightly at the sight of Itsuo’s glare. He seems intimidated by my grumpy shadow but quickly slips outside the house nonetheless. 

“Hey Brick. What’s up?” He asks, sliding a hand under his glasses to rub at his eyes. 

“Masaru, this is Itsuo. You two can bond over your overbearing civvie parents while we commence Operation Birthday.” I say with a grin. 

Both of my boys sputter at my introduction before sharing a long suffering look. 

“Do you think she does it on purpose?” Masaru asks. 

Itsuo shakes his head grimly. “No. I think she was born that way.” 

“Hey!”

“I’m keeping a tally of all the times she’s accidentally insulted someone to their face.” Itsuo smirks. 

Masaru lights up. “She congratulated someone the other week, asked if it was a boy or a girl. The lady wasn’t even pregnant. She was so offended!” 

“Guys…”

Masaru tugs Itsuo aside and whispers something that makes him snort. 

Uh oh. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Instead of bonding over parents who are less than supportive of their shinobi careers, they’re ganging up on me instead. 

“Can we please just go get the jewelry?” I say petulantly, tugging on their shirt sleeves. 

Itsuo finally relents. “Alright, let’s go. I know a place,” he says, and then with a glance at me he adds, “It has great discounts...” 

—

As he waits in their clearing near the Naka River, Shisui idly examines the trees while he waits for Itachi. 

Shisui isn’t a hundred percent sure what the catalyst was for his cousin’s improved mood, but he isn’t about to complain about it. Where before he could practically see the stress eating Itachi alive, now he comes to their training sessions with a small smile on his face more often than not.

Unfortunately, today is not a smile day. 

Shisui leans forward with a grin. “Hey, cousin. Happy 8th Birthday!” 

If anything, the frown lines on Itachi’s face deepen. 

“Shit- uh- c’mon, I thought you would be happier today.” Shisui says a little desperately.  

His little cousin lets out a measured breath and his face settles into a calmer mask. 

“The honored elders have invited me to the clan meeting tonight. My father insists.” 

Shisui winces and lets an awkward chuckle slip out. Oof. “Well, don’t let those old geezers get you down. It won’t be that bad!” He tries to reassure, but is distracted by chakra presences lighting up nearby and loud rustling and voices coming from the brush. 

Shisui tenses as a shape blurs into view and slams into his cousin, but quickly relaxes when Itachi’s chakra doesn’t even twitch in response. 

The pair go down hard and roll to a stop as two others gingerly step into the clearing. 

“Ah, Brick, no…” the brown haired boy groans, lowering his arm from where he tried to grab the girl. 

The blond boy snorts. A Yamanaka?

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The girl shouts from her spot on Itachi’s back, seemingly unaware she’s smushing his cousin's face further into the dirt. He’s 80 percent sure he’s met her before. She had a weird name. Pinecone? Metal? Jazz?

Yamanaka takes pity and goes to haul the girl off while Glasses sidles up to Shisui’s side. 

“Hey, sorry about-” he gestures vaguely, “all that. I’m Masaru, that’s Itsuo. The menace over there is Brick.” 

Brick! That was it.

“We’ll get out of here soon, leave you guys alone.” 

The menace in question is pulling his favorite little cousin into a bone crushing hug. Shisui can’t even deny that he’s enjoying the chaos tremendously. And when Itachi finally looks up, a soft smile on his face, Shisui finally understands the reason for his recent happiness. 

“No… no it’s okay. You can stay.” 

The boy- Masaru- sends him a shrewd look and smirks knowingly. 

“It’s unbearable, right? Their pain. The best people suffer the worst in this world. So when they’re happy, it’s worth the world.” He murmurs. 

Wordlessly, Shisui nods.

“... they’re earrings!”

“Earrings?” Itachi murmurs, hand coming up to touch his ear gently. 

The girl grins mischievously and shares a glance with Masaru. 

“They chime! We’re finally putting a bell on you, you freaking cat!” She crows. 

Wait wait wait. Shisui rushes forward and looks at the jewelry in Itachi’s hands. Nestled in a box are earrings with pieces of metal hanging from delicate chains. When Itachi picks one up, they jingle softly together. 

“Oh, this is fantastic. Itachi- Itachi please, you have to wear them tonight.” Shisui says, grabbing Itachi’s arm. 

“Tonight?” The other boy, Itsuo, asks.

“Clan meeting.” Itachi clarifies. 

Shisui sees Brick tense slightly and tucks her reaction away in the back of his mind for later. 

Itachi gently pulls out the jewelry and hands it to the girl. “Would you put them in, please?” 

She cradles them in her hand, and the look she gives him is fragile. “You’d trust me to put them in?” 

His little cousin doesn’t even blink. “Of course.” 

Shisui shares a knowing glance with the other boys as she gently takes his earlobe and presses the pin through. 

Itsuo mimes retching and Masaru shoves him. 

Finally, Brick steps back to look at her handiwork. And immediately curses. 

“Fuck. They’re a little crooked, ‘Tachi. Should’ve had Itsuo do it.” 

Itachi shakes his head, the metal clinking together softly. “No. They’re perfect.” 

—

Danzo glances over the most recent missive with a sigh. The Land of Tea’s minister of justice would have to be bribed again. Maybe just taken out of the picture entirely, and replaced. 

Flicking a finger, he summons an agent to kneel before him. 

“Inosuke Mizunoto of the Land of Tea. Eliminate him.” When the agent doesn’t immediately move he flares his chakra slightly in agitation. “Dismissed.” 

What he wouldn’t give for a little more initiative and adaptability in his soldiers. He needs to hold his current soldiers by the hand and walk them through almost everything. He supposes it’s the price for stamping out emotions, but for the strength of a true shinobi he is more than happy to pay it. 

Rubbing his eyes, Danzo wishes he could have a Nara. What he could do with a brain like that! Their genius, his to mould as he wishes. But no. For all their laidback attitudes, the clan of the deer keep a close eye on their young. 

Which is why, the first time he stumbled across the Lee child’s academy files, he jumped at the chance to investigate. Her early scores mirrored many young Nara’s time at the academy. She would have been perfect- after all, no one notices the disappearance of an illegitimate child.

Imagine his disappointment when she was just a civilian nobody with malfunctioning chakra, albeit a bright one. 

But now, with Koharu’s interest in the child, he is beginning to pay a little more attention. 

While Koharu might see a fellow kunoichi, striving in a male dominated career, Danzo sees something far more dangerous. Himself. 

Written in the margins of her school file are the words Antisocial. Bored with classes. Crossed out, and replaced officially with Small social circle. And what a coincidence who was in that group of friends.

Danzo knows a snake in the grass when he sees one. Like calls to like after all. 

This civilian nobody is gathering potentially influential allies left and right. Two clan heirs, and connections to four major clans. His own damn teammate. She’s barely out of the academy and already on her way to hands in the back pockets of half the future clan heads. 

The last person he saw gathering powerful allies like this was Minato Namikaze. Before him, Orochimaru. And before the Sannin? Himself. 

So yes. He’s keeping an eye on the civilian prodigy. For her proximity to the Uchiha boy if nothing else. And he knows just the one to do it...

—

Trudging home after saying goodbye to my friends, Rock clinging tightly onto my back, I absently mourn the loss of excel spreadsheets. Budgeting and managing finances was so much easier when the computer did half the work. And as much as I would never admit it to anyone, a part of me resents Mom just the slightest bit at how easily she gave up the responsibility of our financial burdens. 

I know it wasn’t intentional, and I know that I practically wrestled the obligation out of her hands, but- 

Just because I’m capable doesn’t mean I should have to be. 

“If I wake up an hour earlier…” I muse out loud, before shaking my head. No, sleep is too important. 

“Nee-san?” 

“Yeah, Pebble?” 

“I like sleepovers, and play time, but I don’ wan’ them anymore.” He mumbles into my neck. “I want Mom to come home.” 

My heart breaks. “Yeah, me too,” I say with a shuddering sigh. “C’mon, we can make a blanket fort and sleep together in the living room, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He settles more comfortably onto my back and I debate whether or not to tell him that I have another mission coming up. 

I’ll wait until the morning to tell him. Maybe Tsume would be willing to watch him for a week or two. He’d love the ninken. 

Mind tentatively made up, I walk a little faster towards our apartment and resolve to get up early enough to go speak with Tsume. 

And then I run smack into someone. 

“Shit!” I curse, consciously running a thread of chakra to keep Rock on my back. “Sorry!” 

While I didn’t stumble, the cloaked person very much did and I wince in sympathy. Upon closer inspection, they appear to be an Aburame with their tan, high collared coat and sunglasses. 

At their silence I begin to ramble, “Ah, sorry, Masaru says running into me feels like hitting a wall, are your bugs okay? I don’t know anything about them but I hope I didn’t smush any on accident-”

“No. They are okay.” They say, something odd coloring their tone. Like they’re speaking through a shaky phone connection. 

Rock peeps his head over my shoulder, suddenly shy. “Bugs?” 

“Oh, yeah, the Aburame are bonded with special insects! It’s pretty cool!” I say, pulling him off my back and swinging him around. “I’m Brick, this is my brother Rock. What’s your name?” 

“... Yōji.” 

“Are you a genin?” 

“... yes.” 

With every monotone answer, my smile becomes more and more strained. 

“Well. Nice to meet you! Gotta go!” I give a half wave and tug Rock along after me. Something was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s rare for shinobi to bump into each other- and while I’m probably clumsy enough to manage it, that depends on the other person being just as careless as me. And while Yōji could have been incredibly shy, he was also plain weird.

It takes several blocks for the feeling of eyes on me to go away. 

—

Tsume opens the door already frowning, Kiba on her hip. I nearly turn around right then and there in the face of her bad mood but I refrain. Barely.

“Tsume-san, would you be willing-” 

She cuts me off. “We’re not meeting til later, kid.”

“I- what?” I sputter.

She pauses to actually look at me. “What are you here for?” 

“I’m going on a mission tomorrow, and I need a babysitter for Rock.” I say slowly. 

“Oh. Yeah, sure. My uncle is watching the kids, another brat won’t make a difference.” 

“You aren’t gonna be home?” 

“That sensei of yours didn’t tell you? Your mission is with me.” She explains. “It’s mostly a tracking mission, and there isn’t a better nose in Konoha.” 

“I thought you were on maternity leave.” 

“Yup.”

“... so shouldn’t you be staying home?”

“Probably.” She shrugs, fully stepping outside the door. Behind her, Kuromaru noses the door open further and slips out as well, shoving it shut again with his frame. “Lets go get your brother, might as well go over some things before the official debrief.” 

I hum in acknowledgment. Despite our destination being my apartment, Tsume takes the lead, Kiba chewing on her shirt.

“Ah, Tsume-san, if it’s a tracking mission, shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, moving already? Wouldn’t we be on a time limit, evidence-wise?” I ask, confused. 

Her canines flash as she grins. “Normally, yeah. Scent trails go cold. But this isn’t a normal tracking mission. The person hasn’t gone missing… yet .” 

And with that cryptic comment, she bounds forward in a light jog. Kuromaru huffs and nudges me into a run with his broad forehead. “C’mon pup. Hurry up.”

Rock is tired this early in the morning, but his natural crankiness evaporates in the face of a giant wolf-dog outside our door. 

Little brother safely acquired, we make our way back to the inuzuka compound and a much more sedate pace, Kiba asleep and Rock gleefully clutching Kuromaru’s scruff from his perch on the huge dog’s back.

“So… explain to me why we’re not in a hurry?” I ask.

“There’s a traveling entertainment troupe coming to Tanzaku-gai. We’ll be going to a performance.” 

“Are you having fun being this cryptic on purpose?” 

Tsume smacks my arm lightly. “Quiet, kid. Let me finish. Now, we’ve noticed young children have been going missing in the wake of their performances.” 

“So you suspect the performers.” I muse, absently catching Rock as he starts to slip off the ninken and depositing him back on his mount. “Why is the village just now investigating the troupe?” 

“We have before. But they’re covering their tracks well. Due to the nature of their travels, any missing person report is too late- the trail is long gone by the time we arrive to investigate. So we’re creating our own trail to follow.” 

“I don’t get it.” 

“You and the Uchiha are the youngest ninja currently available.” She says slowly. 

It takes a couple seconds for me to put the pieces together. “Fuck. Really? We’re bait? That’s ice cold, Tsume-san.” I groan. 

“Relax, kid. They don’t have anyone with formal shinobi training, according to preliminary reports. Everything will be fine.”

—

“‘ No formal shinobi training’ she said. ‘ Everything will be fine’ she said,” I mutter, dodging the path of a kunai. “EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE!” 

“Less talking, more running.” Masaru yells right back. I could just smack him. 

The thing is- things had been going fine. Suspiciously well in fact. Me and Itachi, being so painfully young looking, had split off from the group and attended the performance, deliberately placing ourselves in the easiest-to-kidnap places. We even walked down the dark alley after the show for god's sake. 

And it worked. A little too well.

I knew something was up when they immediately confiscated the perfume laden scarf I was wearing- but didn’t get rid of it. They tied our hands behind our backs- and then brought us to the forest. Where there was- get this- no other children and a fucking A-rank missing nin from Iwa and his pals.

Apparently, through his dramatic monologue, Itachi and I learned that he and his group had been bagging jounin level bounties all across the nations by baiting genin teams to investigate. Once they had the genin, the poor poor jounin sensei fell right into the trap. 

Unfortunately for them, they thought konoha nin would be easy pickings- we’re the tree huggers after all. The team focused, no man left behind softies. 

What they didn’t realize is that Konoha is home to the craziest mother fuckers on the planet.

Tsume didn’t just spring the proverbial trap- she demolished it, crashing into the clearing with all the rage of an Inuzuka matriarch. Unfortunately, we got split up- Itachi and Tsume against their leader and me, Masaru, and Kuromaru against everyone else.

Ahead of us, Kuromaru slows, and with an almost painful looking change in direction suddenly leaps into the fray behind us. 

“Go!” He shouts. “Find Tsume and the other brat!” 

I slow, and sharing a glance with Masaru, shake my head. “Guess we’re fighting.” 

“Guess so.” He agrees, hand settling over his weapons pouch. 

Kuromaru savagely shakes the man between his jaws and drops him with a growl. “I said, go!” 

“Sorry, boss. No one left behind.” I say, focusing on building chakra in my fist.

It’s no Tsunade, in fact Tsunade would weep at my bastardization of her technique, but with a prayer I slam my fist into the nearest tree and it cracks. Bolstered by my mini success, I reel back for another blow.

“Variant fist!” I roar, and slam into it one more time. 

The tree topples, crushing at least three of the bandits chasing us. They lay trapped under the branches, groaning softly. Unfortunately the man I was aiming for- one of the more trained of them- managed to dodge out of the way.

Variant fist is the result of my shit chakra and several bored nights- first a wave of spiritual energy hits, and then my physical energy catches up, resulting in an explosive outburst of chakra. 

The only problem is that it hurts me as much as it hurts them- this is my first time actually using it in battle. Already my fist aches from the backlash. But desperate times… 

Masaru whistles and I drop like a rock straight to the ground. Above me, a wave of kunai and shuriken flash past, the thin shimmer of ninja wire between them. One woman can’t stop her momentum in time and slams into the wire, leaving thin but deep cuts crisscrossing her body. 

Suddenly, the man I’m beginning to suspect is a chuunin flashes through some signs and sinks underground. 

“Fuck.” I swear, and leap onto the fallen tree trunk. I can’t climb the trees- I still haven’t learned tree walking- so this is the best I can do to stay off the ground. 

Another rushes me, and I fumble to hold up a kunai before he swings down with his short sword. If he’s shocked when my arm doesn’t buckle under the blow, he doesn’t show it, merely swinging again. This time it forces me back, foot slipping off the tree trunk and hitting dirt. The sword glances off my kunai and scores a line across my knuckles. If I hadn’t fallen backwards, I would be missing a few fingers right now. 

With a shout, Masaru suddenly tackles the man attacking me and they both fall and tumble over. 

“Masaru!” 

My teammate slowly gets up as the man slumps and I see his arm bathed in blood even as it leaves the kunai embedded in the man’s abdomen. 

“Masaru…” 

Suddenly a hand catches my ankle and I curse. I forgot about the one underground. In a desperate bid to get him to let go, I charge chakra into my fist one more time, ignoring the already throbbing hand and the blood dripping down my knuckles. I wait for the pressure to build- and then I ram it into the ground. 

The dirt cracks and the hand around my ankle loosens slightly before it tightens again with bone crushing force. I feel my ankle snap like a twig before Masaru hauls me away, bloody arms wrapped around my chest.

I sag into his hold as my adrenaline begins to run out. All around us lie the still forms of the various bandits and low level missing nin who were chasing us. 

The last one standing- the chuunin- crawls slowly out of the dirt, blood streaming down his forehead from where my blow caught him through the earth. 

“I’ll peel you like a fucking grape.” He growls. 

I stare at him, and laugh hysterically. Does he not realize?

“What!” the man snaps. 

“There’s a ninken behind you, and he’s pissed.” 

The man turns, but not fast enough to dodge 150 pounds of angry dog. 

—

“Well. That was terrible, let’s never do that again.” I say, laying in Masaru’s lap. 

Kuromaru snorts and continues checking the various dead or unconscious bodies around us.

Masaru doesn’t respond, instead staring at the blood coating his arms. Resisting the urge to shake him, I slowly lever myself upright and take his hand. 

“Thank you, Masaru.” I say softly. He finally looks at me, glasses crooked. When he tries to pull his hand away I grasp it tighter, ignoring the crack of my fractured bones grinding together. I never thought he would be the first one to kill someone on our team. I always assumed that I would take that burden. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Thank you.” 

“Let’s go pups. We still have to find the others.” Kuromaru interrupts, and picks me up gently with his teeth before swinging me onto his back. 

“Woah!” 

“Hold on.” 

While I adjust my position on Kuromaru’s back, Masaru picks himself up off the ground and shakes his hands out.

“Okay. I’m ready. I’m okay.” He mutters, glancing one more time behind us. 

We take off, Kuromaru leading the way. 

Eventually, we come across a clearing with obvious signs of fighting. Tsume leans against a tree, a feral smile splitting her face. And sitting in the middle is Itachi above the prone form of the leader, under several layers of genjutsu. 

“I think I’ve got everything we need, Tsume-sama.” Itachi murmurs. 

“Great. The gang’s all here. Let’s go get those kids. Where are they, Itachi?”

“Ah, no- the children were never missing in the first place,” he says, “They threatened and bribed families into submitting false reports.” Itachi adds. 

Tsume frowns. “That’s… a severe offense. And a serious security breach. The village will need to investigate those families further.” 

I frown. “But they were threatened.” 

“That’s life.” Tsume says, slapping a knockout tag on the man. “Or did you forget how you were almost killed because of that false information?” 

“No…”

“Then let’s finish up and head home. Where are the rest of these rats?” 

Wordlessly, Kuromaru leads the way. 

“Brick! Are you okay?” Itachi asks, finally noticing I’m not riding the huge ninken for shits and giggles. 

“Ah, I’m fine. Just a couple broken bones. Masaru isn’t hurt at all.” I don’t let him know that, now that the adrenaline has completely worn off, my injuries hurt like a bitch.

“Good. I’m also alright. Tsume did most of the work.” 

“That’s good.” I sigh. “I wish you were with us, though. We work better together as a team.” 

Itachi smiles, and gestures at my leg. “I can see that.” 

“Hey! I did just fine!” I say, before frowning and trailing off, “… Masaru was a badass though. Saved my life. But he’s not taking it well.” 

Itachi glances at our older teammate and grimaces. “I’ll go talk to him.” 

“Thank you.” 

As soon as Itachi leaves to reassure Masaru, Kuromaru flicks an ear back into my face. 

“Stop beating yourself up. This automatically got upgraded to a B-rank the moment those missing nin got involved.” I can feel his chest rumble as he talks. “You three did just fine. More than fine.” 

“Thanks, ‘Maru.”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Sure… ‘Maru.” 

“I’ll drop you.”

“Uh huh.” 

Chapter Text

Ensui staggers home after a brutal shift and immediately collapses onto the couch. He can’t believe how rusty he’s gotten just by taking a genin team. And the only reason he went back part time to his old position was as a future favor to his students. Not that they’ll even know it for a while… he wonders if their mission with Tsume went okay. 

“Hi honey!” Yasushi calls from the kitchen.

“Uhhhh hi Sensei.” Brick says.

Wait… Brick?

Ensui bolts upright, knocking a pillow off the couch in his haste.

“Why are you in my kitchen?” 

“Mr. Boyfriend invited me over.”

Yasushi smiles, and ruffles his student’s already messy hair. “I saw her on the way home from the hospital, and we got to talking, and then I made her come for dinner.” 

“Dinner? Wait- hospital? It was a C-rank!” Ensui yells. 

“Ah, about that. I’m absolutely blaming you for leaving us with Tsume-san. Where were you by the way?” Brick asks, waving a bandaged hand and gesturing at her foot. 

“I was busy,” Ensui says, squinting. “Is that a cast?” 

“Yup.” 

“It was a C-rank.”

“B, actually. So, I’ll see you next week?” She says, shoveling the rest of her plate into her mouth.

“No.” Ensui glares, already planning on finding that mission report.

“I know where you live, now, Sensei. I’ll see you next week.” Brick grins, grabbing her crutches. “ And I’ll be bringing the others.” 

“Oh that sounds nice.” Yasushi says.

“Get out of my house!” 

“ Ensui!” Yasushi gasps. 

“Already am!” Brick calls from the street.

True to her word, next week he comes home to find all three of his kids lounging in his living room like they own the place. Brick is knocked out cold on his couch, thank fuck, getting some much needed sleep. Meanwhile Itachi and Masaru are poring over one of his books on common battlefield tactics and occasionally stopping to quietly debate the merits of one strategy or another. 

Incredibly fond despite himself, Ensui grabs a spare throw blanket from the closet and tosses it over Brick before joining the boys on the floor. 

—

Koharu folds her hands in her lap and resists the urge to rub her eyes. 

“Just because you got your cast off yesterday, girl, doesn’t mean you can wreck it again pulling some stupid stunt,” she says, glaring. 

Brick slowly lowers herself back onto the couch and pouts. Actually pouts! 

“I just think they’ll finally listen to us if they have some motivation- I can convince them to accept Mikoto’s proposal! I can be very annoying when I want to be.” 

“I can see that.” Koharu deadpans. 

“No, really! The construction of a commercial and residential district outside the Uchiha compound would be great for the village! Mikoto is even offering to personally assume a portion of the construction costs. There’s no reason for anyone to be against this.”

Koharu gives in and pinches the bridge of her nose. “First, it’s technically inside their land. Second, people don’t like to spend money, kid. And certain members of the council-” Danzo “-are against it. Face it- you don’t have enough power or clout with the clan to pull this off. You’re not a clan member, and this would be a clan matter. Leave it.” 

“So if I became a clan member it would be possible?”

Koharu tries not to think about what she just accidentally encouraged. If she hears about marriage proposals she is firmly ignoring them and claiming innocence when angry parents come running. 

Brick correctly takes her silence as disapproval and pouts even further. 

“Weren’t you the one that said I have to be more aggressive in the pursuit of my ideals?”

“I didn’t mean bullying the Uchiha elders.” Koharu hisses. “You go in there and they’ll tear you apart.” 

“Tohmaytoh tohmahtoh, Utatante-san. Itachi’s mom has been teaching me how to glare at people, like, really glare at them. It’s an Uchiha specialty. I think it’ll work.” 

“Get out of my office, Brick.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

—

Masaru enters the training field and immediately pulls Brick and Itachi into a group huddle. 

“It’s been a month since our B-rank.”

“I’m so glad you can count days, Masaru.”

“Shut up Brick- it’s been a month and they’re putting us back on active duty tomorrow. So we’re going to train until our arms fall off.” 

“Duh.” 

“ Shut up Brick - I asked Sensei to get us some chakra paper. I’m going to find someone to teach me kenjutsu and Itachi wants to learn body-flicker. Brick, you’re going to pick a jutsu compatible with your chakra nature and practice until you fix your damn chakra issues.” Masaru rants.

“Do I detect a hint of resentment there?” She asks, and despite her teasing tone he can tell she’s a little hurt. Fuck. 

“Brick. You were the only one to get injured on our mission. Now, I’ll admit you are terrifying even with your handicap. Just imagine what you’ll be like when you resolve it.” 

Mollified, she smiles and slaps a hand on his back. “Alright… senpai .” 

“Oh god, don’t call me that.” 

“You’re the one that finally taught me tree walking. I think it fits.” She teases. 

“Yes, but that took him two weeks.” Itachi says. 

“I’d like to see you do better!” Masaru rounds on their youngest member. 

“Alright. I’ll teach her water walking. In one week. Even she can’t mess that up.” 

“I’m right here guys.” 

Masaru sees Sensei flicker into the clearing and perks up, ignoring the small tussle beside him. He pays himself on the back for noticing Sensei’s arrival- he’s been pushing his situational awareness. 

“What are my students scheming now?” Sensei asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, shadow boy,” Brick pipes up from where she has Itachi in a headlock.

“Yes, I believe that’s why I asked, Brick.” 

Itachi suddenly jabs her violently in the ribs and slips out of her hold.

“Just give us the fancy paper.” Masaru interrupts before things can devolve further.

Sensei sighs and hands over three slips of white paper. Masaru rubs it between his fingers. It has a weird texture. With a shared glance between the three of them, they all channel chakra into the papers. 

Masaru’s crinkles in his hand and he sees Itachi’s burn and turn to ash. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Brick says, holding up her paper. It’s split directly down the middle while one half has crumbled. 

“Masaru has lightning, Itachi has fire. Brick, it seems you have an equal affinity for wind and earth.” Sensei explains. 

“Sick.” She murmurs, staring at the paper. 

“Now get to work.” 

“Yes, Sensei.” They chorus.

Now, maybe he could find that cousin of Itachi’s and get him to teach him some sword stances… it would be good for him to have a close range option rather than relying on his subpar taijutsu. 

Itachi interrupts his musings by softly tugging on his arm. 

“My family has some lightning nature users. I’m sure we can find some jutsu for you to practice.” 

Masaru smiles at the younger boy. “I’d like that.”

—

“You have a beautiful home, Uchiha-sama.”

“Please- call me Mikoto.”

“Call me Hina, then.” 

Hina Lee graciously accepts the proffered arm and together they walk further into the main house. She wasn’t lying- it is a beautiful home- but after what feels like forever in that hospital room she would find anything more beautiful than white walls. 

The two mothers leave their youngest children to play under the watchful eye of a young Uchiha genin and move further into the house.

“I’m glad your condition has improved enough for trips outside the hospital grounds, Hina. I've been meaning to meet with you for quite some time.” The Uchiha matriarch says, leading them towards a nice sitting room. 

“Well, our children are such good friends and teammates, it was only a matter of time. Brick simply gushes about your son.” 

“I could say the same about your daughter. You did a fantastic job raising her.” Mikoto says. 

Hina smiles. “Well, to tell you the truth, Brick has always been like that. I think she was born that way.” 

She really was. Her daughter simply existed by her own set of rules, and didn’t let anyone else dictate them. And she’s always been so smart… 

“To be frank, I also invited their other teammate’s mother, but the woman declined the invitation.” Mikoto says, reclining regally before rolling her eyes with a conspiratorial wink. Hina giggles into her hand. She really does look like a princess- it makes Hina feel self conscious about her dry skin and tired eyes. 

“That’s too bad.” Hina says, feeling bold, and lays a hand over Mikoto’s. “It can be just between us.” 

Mikoto’s mouth curls up, and Hina can’t help but notice how her nose crinkles cutely, or her strong jaw and long eyelashes. Hina can feel her heart in her throat, an emotion rising that she hasn’t felt in years, not since her husband died. 

Oh no. 

No, Hina. She’s a married woman. 

A very attractive and smart and strong married woman . 

Married to a noble clan head.

And you are a widow.

With a mental shake of her head, Hina pulls her thoughts back to the conversation. 

“Would you mind leading me around the garden outside?” 

Mikoto smiles. “Of course. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve been doing some research into the price disparity between civilian and clan health care. If I may, how much is your monthly payment?” 

Caught off guard, Hina blinks at the other women before tentatively telling her the details of her medical bills. 

—

Hana pulls herself up into the tree carefully. 

“I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU, DAMN IT.” She yells, and swears when the cat hisses at her and moves further away. 

A low rumble emerges from her chest in frustration.

“Growling does not seem wise.” A voice says from below, and Hana glares down through the branches. 

“Yeah? Well you get your ass up here and get the damn thing then.” She sneers. 

Wordlessly, the figure steps towards the trunk and then up it and uh oh, if she’s been yelling at a random shinobi again her mom is gonna be mad. They retrieve the cat without flinching even as the little demon claws them and then walks it back to solid ground. Huffing, Hana jumps down after them. 

They have a coat on and sunglasses, so Hana takes an educated guess and calls “Yo, Aburame. Thank you.” 

“No thanks are necessary. And I am called Yoji.”  

“Anyone ever tell you that you sound weird, Yoji?” She blurts out. “Like. Lots of voices overlapping.” 

She can’t see much of his facial expressions due to his high collar and sunglasses, but she can hear his hive flutter in response. 

“I… speak using my beetles. I thought I had fixed that issue.” 

“Oh. Well, maybe to normal ears. But I can hear it plain as day,” she says, and feeling bad, blurts out, “I could help! Inuzuka might be known for our noses, but we have great hearing too. I could be a sound check until you get it right?”

“... I would like that.” 

“Great!”

Hana shoots him a toothy grin and then grabs a fistfull of his jacket and drags him towards the entrance of the park. “But I’m starving, so we’re gonna go get some food first.” 

“I do not require sustenance.” 

“More for me then!” Hana says cheerfully, herding the boy towards her favorite bbq joint. “Do you prefer pork or steak?” 

“Preference is superfluous. A shinobi eats when required.” 

“You are so sad , Yoji. Eating something you prefer somewhere in the village is a great way to meet people! It’s how we build connections!” 

“... connections are superfluous.” 

Hana pulls up short and stares at the Aburame, puzzled. How could someone who passed the academy be so blind to the ways of the village? To the will of fire? Hana swears to hunt down his academy sensei and sic her mom on the idiot. 

“Connections make us strong, Yoji. Like your colony. I know insects have a sense of community.” 

The silence he responds with is louder than words.

— 

Shisui isn’t sure what to think when his little cousin’s kunoichi teammate tracks him down to his favorite tea shop and slides into a booth with him. 

“Can I help you?” He asks, bemused. 

“Actually, yes,” She says, grabbing a menu and glancing at it. “If you hurt Masaru’s feelings by refusing him, I’ll tell you how you will die. In detail.” 

What a vague and confusing threat by a nine year old. Is this what his life has come to? Being threatened by children? 

“I didn’t realize Masaru had a crush on me.” Shisui says slowly, carefully raising his teacup to hide his nerves.

“What? No,” she says, confused, before looking to the side in apparent consideration. “Well, actually… he might. But that’s not why I’m here.” 

Shisui fights the blush that threatens to stain his cheeks red and curses the pale Uchiha disposition when he feels his face burn anyways. “Then what does he want?” He blurts out.

Brick notices his embarrassment, because of course she does, and bursts out laughing. “He just wants training! But oh my god this is perfect! You have a crush on him!” 

“No! I don’t!” Shisui vehemently denies. Sure, despite his lack of confidence in himself, Masaru is strong enough to keep up with his monster of a cousin. There’s a reason he was placed with the top kunoichi, a clan heir, and a Nara sensei. Shisui would have to be blind not to notice Masaru’s talent and emotional intelligence, his bravery and dexterity… his soft hair…

Holy shit. Shisui has a crush. He suddenly feels a strange kinship with the fangirls he avoided like the plague in the Academy. And immediately hates himself for it.

“Maybe I do have a crush. But this is stupid! I barely know him!” Shisui hisses at the smug look on her face. 

She shoots him a look that screams idiot and raises one bushy eyebrow. “That’s why you should train him, dumbass. So you can actually get to know him.” 

He opens his mouth to refuse, because despite the eye opening conversation they’ve just had it doesn’t change the fact that he’s busy all the time, but something stops him. 

“... fine. But he has to ask me himself.” 

“Deal.” 

—

Despite what some think, Fugaku is not a stupid man. When he stops and actually pays attention to something, he can pick apart the details just as well as his wife can. It comes with being an Uchiha- with being a shinobi- looking underneath the underneath is part and parcel of the lifestyle. His problem is that he constantly gets stuck on meaningless drivel. Going over the same things over and over again.

He’s never been good at the bigger picture. Not when he’s stuck thinking about the little things. Now, being so detail oriented is good for his police work. But as a clan head he struggles to balance the needs of his clan, the demands of his elders, and his duty to his village. And it’s getting harder and harder. There’s a reason why he pushes Itachi so much. 

Fugaku will be the first to admit he’s difficult to get along with. His temper runs hotter than the flames he wields. And some spark his anger quicker than most.

Lately, he’s found his thoughts returning again and again to his son’s teammate. Like fingers constantly exploring an open wound, he keeps coming back to her atrocious behavior. His wife would have him look past it, to see her strong political acumen. But it’s hard. 

She’s just so… uncouth. 

He glances out a window to see the girl shuffling through the first snowfall of the year. Upon closer inspection, he realizes she’s drawing a… phallus… in his lawn while his son frantically tries to stop her by kicking the snowy lines. 

He’s suddenly violently reminded of the time Uzumaki Kushina challenged his wife to an ice sculpture contest when they were teens. Fugaku shudders. There was a slowly melting dick in front of his apartment for weeks , all because he criticized her technique. 

Forget the Curse of Hatred. Clearly the Uchiha are doomed to suffer crazed kunoichi once a generation. Their home was never calm when Kushina was around… but he also remembers how happy Mikoto was. Maybe… maybe this girl will be good for his son, just as Kushina brightened his wife’s life. 

He can let some things slide in the face of his family’s happiness.

Like a dick in his yard.

So decided, he slides on his shoes and slips silently out the door to stand behind the children. His son notices him first, and pales. Something twinges in Fugaku’s chest at that. Does his son truly fear him so much? 

Itachi reaches out and grips Brick by the jacket, knuckles white. “Father! We were just…” 

Fugaku makes a show of looking around the yard and hums. “Admiral effort. But you could be doing something like this,” He says, forming the hand seals for a water jutsu and then swiftly a wind. He shapes the forming ice and snow sculpture into a dick and steps back to admire his handiwork. 

Itachi stands, gaping, at the ice sculpture decorating their yard while the girl repeatedly smacks his arm. 

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT!” She squeals. 

His son has yet to close his mouth. 

“It’s something I picked up from a friend of Mikoto’s, who in turn had learned it by watching Mist-nin. She terrorized me with rude sculptures for weeks one winter. It was the year I learned to never anger an Uzumaki.” 

Surprisingly, the girl nods sagely, as if she knew exactly who he was referring to. 

Later, when they all shuffle into the house and clean the snow off their boots, Fugaku presses a hand to Itachi’s head and awkwardly ruffles his hair. He pretends not to see the tears his son sheds, or the way Brick squeezes his hand. 

—

Mikoto isn’t blind. She sees the way that Hina Lee looks at her, sees how her husband is slowly learning to control his temper, just as she knows that Itachi is finally getting more than four hours of sleep at night. She’s observant when it comes to people and their thoughts, feelings, and motives. 

So she knows that her son’s teammate has an ulterior motive behind her interest in helping the Uchiha clan. But her connection to the councilwoman Koharu is too useful to let slip away. Mikoto can give the girl what she wants as long as she continues slowly pulling the Uchiha into better standing, and away from an irreversible course of action on the part of her Elders. 

Thus, she had already resolved to fulfill the girl’s motive, determined to stay in her favor even as Mikoto looked into her mother’s financial situation. What she wasn’t prepared for was for Brick to sit her down with Itachi at her side and declare that she wishes to become part of a clan. 

Mikoto almost chokes. “Aren’t you a little young for marriage?” 

Brick's face twists impressively even as it turns red while she waves her hands. “No no no! Not like that!” 

Itachi saves her by clarifying, “Her family could be adopted into the clan,” he hurries to say. “No marriage necessary.” 

Mikoto relaxes and leans back into her seat, contemplating the logistics of the request. She knew the girl was angling for something. Clan status would help her politically and socially, as well as help resolve her mother’s financial situation. 

She only has one question. “Why the Uchiha? I know you’re friendly with the Inuzuka and to a lesser extent the Yamanaka. You could have probably gone to them and they would have helped you eventually.”

The girl makes a face. “Yeah, eventually. But there are things I need done now.”

There’s a fire in her eyes, a flame of ambition that rivals any Uchiha’s. She certainly fits in around the smouldering, burning, explosive personalities her family produces. Mikoto knows this girl has been angling for something within her clan…. And she might just be prepared to give it.

“Uchiha Brick has a nice ring to it.” Mikoto says slowly. 

Brick winces and raises her hand. “Actually, Mikoto-sama, I would prefer to keep my family name.” 

Itachi gasps, a small exhalation of air, really, and immediately rushes to shush her. “Forgive her, Mother, she doesn’t know what she’s asking for.” 

Mikoto laughs and waves a hand. “No! No! This is perfect. The Lee clan sounds just as good to me.” 

This way , she thinks, I get to sink my teeth into politics again, the fun kind .

Mikoto is already planning how to make this happen even as Itachi quietly explains what she just asked for to the confused girl. 

“You just refused her invitation to join the Uchiha and announced your intention of becoming a minor clan.” 

“I what.”

Any family or household could be called a clan, but it took a little more work than that for the kind of political clout little Brick was hoping for. Many of the major noble clans had negotiated with the daimyo decades ago  for their status. Perhaps they could petition for the creation of a vassal clan, like how the Nara and Yamanaka serve the Akimichi. But that would still be considered under royal jurisdiction, and the Uchiha have less clout with the capital than they used to. 

Things to think about… 

Mikoto barely notices as the kids slip out of the room, too busy scheming. 

—

Itachi will be the first to admit he didn’t want a genin team. When he was in the academy, short as it was, he was disappointed by his age-mates, and then as he was moved up by his classmates, and even further by his graduating class. Each successive class they put him in he got his hopes up for finding a group of peers and each time he was disappointed. Itachi had craved fellows who would challenge him, and grow with him, and who would meet the level of seriousness he put into training. He rarely found them, and even then none seemed to be on his level. It was alienating.

So when Nara-Sensei told him he was ending their apprenticeship and expanding into a full team, he was frustrated. Sensei placed him with Masaru and Rie and the civilian-born girl actually squealed when she met him. 

Even Masaru had flinched. 

None of them were surprised when she left the team to become an apprentice seamstress. As far as Itachi knows, she was still on the genin reserves but only practiced her skills marginally. 

So when they were assigned another civilian-born girl, he assumed the worst. 

But Brick shattered his expectations at every turn. She cursed and struggled and succeeded and pestered them all until their team went from something disjointed to a real family . He’s come to realize that his team has managed to slide into his heart and onto his list of precious people. 

It’s terrifying. It’s incredible. 

They barely need words when they spar against sensei, anymore. On their latest C-Rank, Brick pulled off her first wind jutsu and amplified his fireball so well that they burned down a major chunk of the forest. Masaru ricocheted kunai off of Itachi’s shuriken, nailing three enemies, something he has only seen fellow Uchiha manage. When Itachi catches someone within a genjutsu, Ensui-sensei is there to snare them with his shadow. 

With any other team, he would be impatiently waiting until his promotion to chuunin. With Team Ensui, he almost wishes they could stay like this forever. 

But life waits for no man.

The next week, they’re assigned a mission to guard the Daimyo.

—

Chapter Text

The night before our mission, we unanimously agreed to meet at Sensei’s apartment to sleep over, despite the fact he wouldn’t be coming with us. Rubbing my eyes, I yawn so hard my teeth shut with an audible clack. I had spent the last handful of hours with Koharu being ruthlessly drilled on etiquette, poise, and grace when in the presence of royalty. Not that it completely went to waste, but even Koharu could see that it was mostly going in one ear and out the other. While shinobi ostensibly serve their Daimyo and are expected to follow his edicts, they’re given a ton of leeway when it comes to manners. 

Everyone knows that shinobi are their own particular brand of insane, after all. 

Eventually she had given up lecturing and we simply sat in a companionable silence over tea. For all that she huffs and complains about my behavior, I think half the reason Koharu even teaches me is because she’s a little… lonely.

I did cave to Koharu’s demands and borrowed a more traditionally feminine kunoichi outfit from Mikoto, however. The outfit is actually her own genin clothes that she kept from when she was young in case she had a daughter who needed them. 

The long sleeved purple dress… thing… was currently folded in the bottom of my pack and I was gratefully wearing my B I T C H shirt and neon green shorts while I still could. The only allowance to the December weather was a thick black jacket and thermal tights that kept me surprisingly warm.

Making my way up the steps of Sensei’s place, I casually let myself in, rearming the traps behind me. 

“Welcome back!” Yasushi-san calls from further inside and something eases in the slope of my shoulders. For too long while Mom was in the hospital I came home to silence. She’s been home more often lately, but it’s not the same. 

Masaru peeks his head around the corner and I smile softly. Stepping further into the room, I find my boys playing with hanafuda while Yasushi watches from the couch. After watching a round I realize it’s ino-shika-cho. Masaru and Sensei groan when Itachi reveals a boar and proceeds to collect their money. 

“Hey, we should have a team name,” I say.

“We do. Team Ensui.” Itachi replies, dealing another round. 

“No, like ino-shika-cho.”

Masaru frowns and slowly sounds out syllables, “Ita-masa-bu”. 

“Bu?!” I huff.

“Yeah, for Burikku” 

“Its BRRRICK damn it!”

“How do you make those sounds with your mouth?” Itachi interrupts. “My tongue doesn’t want to make them.” 

I ignore him, too busy sulking. Sure, my name is weird. And even harder to say in Japanese. But damn it, it’s Brick! Not Burikku! 

“ Call us team dumbass at this rate… ” I grumble in English.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

Sensei has had his face in his hands for the last 20 seconds, a low keening noise emerging from his chest. “Please. Please stop. You’ll be called Team Idiots at this rate.” 

I laugh at his accidental jinx and point at his chest. “Maa maa Sensei, you’ll speak it into existence. What would your clan think?” I tease.

Yasushi bursts into delighted laughter. 

I love my boys so much. 

Our entire schedule had been filled with training and studying ever since we were assigned the mission, so it’s nice to take a break before the stress of guarding such an important client sinks in.

And while our presence as genin is going to be pretty much for show, considering he would still have his actual guard, it was always important to be as ready as possible. It’s sort of a yearly ceremony, where the top genin team of the year joins his guard on the way back to the capital.

Unfortunately, Sensei isn’t able to come with us. This mission is largely ceremonial, and thats the only reason shinobi outside the Twelve Ninja Guardians are… overtly allowed to protect the Daimyo. His normal forces consist of samurai and regular infantry. 

Tensions are somewhat… high between Konoha nin and the samurai after the most recent war strained relations between the fire Daimyo and the hidden village. It was part of the reason for his visit in the first place- reassurance that his investment in Konohagakure was still paying off.

All of this meant that us three genin would be making the journey alone, deciding things ourselves, and completing the mission on our own merit. 

Sensei had explained a week ago when we got the mission that it was given to the year’s top genin team, who usually used it to prove they were ready for promotion. 

Usually.

Since our team was so new and two of us were so young, it was a little unprecedented. Which made me worried.

But Sensei drily snarked that we were nowhere near ready for promotion, which eased my nerves considerably. Itachi might be a shinobi god or whatever, but me and Masaru needed more time in the genin oven, so to speak.

Sensei was also quick to reassure us that an ANBU team would be following us at a distance, thank god. Although he probably shouldn’t have told us that. Oh well.

Still, I shake off my doubts and spend the rest of the night alternating between playful banter and card games, knowing that we’re as prepared for tomorrow as we could be. 

—

Snow has long since covered the ground in a thick layer when they finally head towards the village gates. It took several hours for the Daimyo’s contingent to mobilize, mostly because of the man himself. Itachi isn’t necessarily surprised that the wealthy man is more interested in gossip than getting ready to leave, but he is surprised that the Guardians are as lenient about upholding his schedule as they are. He supposes herding the Daimyo is much harder than he thought. 

Instead of an early morning departure towards the capital, it’s long into the afternoon when they’re actually ready to leave. 

Brick's Mom, brother, Hana, Itsuo, and his own family watch them leave the village. 

Brick’s mom is soft in a way that his own mother never allows herself to be, gushing over Brick’s outfit, yet Itachi can still see the steel in her spine that has carried her through months of intense treatments. 

She wears that steel now, as she sees them off at the gates, little Rock clinging to her side. She carries her worry in the slant of her eyes and the crease of her mouth- Hina smiles, but it’s sharp like the folds of origami. Yet for her daughter she shelves her obvious worry and frets over her clothes and pretends her biggest concern is her daughter’s flyaway hair.

Itachi had to do a double take when Brick emerged from the bathroom fully dressed that morning, wearing an outfit so opposite to what she normally wears. She wasn’t even wearing her training weights. The shuriken pattern at the bottom was vaguely familiar, but he had brushed that off in favor of staring at his teammate. She looked… so uncomfortable. 

Masaru at least waited until they were outside the gates and flanking the procession of carts before he promptly blurted, “Please never wear that again after this.” 

Instead of looking offended like Itachi is sure most girls would be, Brick actually looked relieved , tugging on where the cloth straps folded into a bow. “Yeah, I feel like a Rinne Matsuri gift.” 

One of the two Guardians on the trip, a tall blond, snickered at them before schooling his expression back into careful neutrality. 

Sensing weakness, Brick bombarded the poor man with questions until he caved and introduced himself as Shinji. 

By the time they settled down to rest the horses in a small village, Brick had managed to get the name of the other Guardian and even the eight samurai. 

As they discuss the watch rotation, Itachi feels Sensei’s absence keenly, and wishes again that the Nara could join them. More and more of their missions as of late have been with a random jonin or a group of chunin, and Sensei has been assigned separately. He has a theory why, but hasn’t voiced it in case he’s wrong. 

The next day, by the time they’re a third of the way through their journey, Brick has convinced Daichi to place a low level henge of the Daimyo over the Daimyo in the cart and a henge of the samurai on the samurai riding a horse next to it. 

If he makes the illusions poor enough, people will think they have been switched when they haven’t, and won’t attack the man in the cart assuming he’s a decoy.

It’s something they read about in one of Sensei’s textbooks on battlefield tactics, an advanced tome from the Nara library. While a relatively simple concept, it usually works. It requires a low level of chakra output and for the enemy to be cocky in their ability to spot genjutsu. Once they see what they want to see, namely a henge, they assume they’re so smart in catching the trick and don’t bother to break the illusion. 

It’s simple in its genius and Itachi is shocked but pleased that Brick was the one who brought it up. Genjutsu isn’t her style- it’s not her nature to be disingenuous or deceitful. So for her to recommend a strategy that uses it is surprising.

He glanced at the teammate in question and smiles softly at her, before readying himself for a long day of walking. 

—

Once we settle down for another night and hash out a guard rotation, I flick a quick signal to Itachi and Masaru and drop back into the trees. Sure, team Ensui isn’t technically supposed to know about the ANBU, let alone seek them out, but the shadowy group deserve to be in the loop too. 

I whistle jauntily and stare pointedly into the treeline. It takes several moments, but eventually the group melts out of the shadows and make themselves visible to a lowly genin like me. There’s no indication of their thoughts in their body language at all, so I simply wave awkwardly. 

One in a cat mask signs report in Konoha standard. Grinning, I clap my hands together and open my mouth to begin telling them the situation, when I’m distracted by one of the white painted masks.

I take one look at the bird mask with distinctive green lines under the eyes and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense. No wonder Sensei’s been so absent lately. Should have known he’d figure out a way to come on the mission anyways.

“Wow, please forget any borderline seditious comments I’ve made, Sensei.” I blurt out.

Sensei starts coughing so hard the ANBU next to him has to start banging on his back. 

“Bri- kid- what are you doing here?” Sensei chokes out. 

“I’m relaying important intel to my allies, Sensei,” I say, saccharine sweet. “Do you have visual on the client?

The one in the cat mask mutters “Sensei…?” under their breath while dog mask jerks forward. “That’s none of your business-”

“We have to stay pretty far back because of the samurai,” Sensei cuts him off. “They get tetchy.”

“Ah,” I hum. “Well, the client is still in the carriage. The henges are a fakeout. No one was switched. Oh, also, if anything goes horrifically wrong, I’ll try to send a signal for you guys. Make your jobs a little easier.”

“Thank you Brick- now go back to your post.” Sensei says with a sigh.

I shoot him a lazy salute and begin to head back, not before I hear the sound of armor smacking together. 

“I told you their henges were better than that…” 

“ I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting a Meiji formation from a bunch of brats.”

Giggling, I keep moving back towards the main group. Something eases in my chest to know we aren’t completely alone in this. 

Maybe things will be okay.

—

Of course, I just had to jinx it.

Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t. 

—

We’re perhaps a days journey from the capital when it all goes to shit.

There, on the horizon, a man in a mask jauntily walks towards us and then stops about 30 feet away. 

Obito. 

My chakra flares sharply in panic at the mere sight of him, and a genjutsu I hadn’t even noticed breaks. I see Itachi is already out of the jutsu, so with a mounting sense of panic, I turn and smack Masaru. He jolts too, and I grab his hand in a crushing grip, not daring to take my eyes off of Obito. 

“Boys, this is a code black.” 

Masaru leans back. “What?”

Obito cocks his head, and despite the fact that he hasn’t moved closer yet I feel another spike of fear run through me. 

“Listen to me,” I hiss, “if you two trust me in anything, trust me in this. That guy is currently one of the most powerful shinobi in the elemental nations.” 

Masaru goes white as a sheet and steps back, but Itachi lays a calming hand on his shoulder and looks to me. 

“What do we do?” 

Nothing! I want to say, but instead I take a deep breath and focus. 

“Masaru, get to the Daimyo. I’ll start waking the guard. Itachi, send up a signal. If he engages, DO NOT get close to him. Don’t let him touch you at any cost.” I say, quick and low.

“GO!” 

We spring into action, Masaru reaching the Daimyo quickly. I approach the closest Guardian and send a jolt of chakra through him, scrambling back when he instinctively lashes out towards me. 

“That was stupid of you, little leaves,” Obito calls, and his voice is slightly muffled by the mask but no less terrifying. “The only thing keeping you alive was your lack of interference.” 

Fuck . 

Two samurai break free of the genjutsu on their own and try flanking Obito. 

They die.

Itachi finishes tying a paper tag to a kunai and launches it straight up. For a moment, I feel a small kernel of hope rise in my chest. The Anbu team- with Kakashi- will come running at the explosion.

And then Obito lazily tosses a shuriken through the armed tag, rendering the seal work useless. 

The Guardian who I woke up, Shinji, launches himself at Obito with a roar, katana swinging in a flash of steel. 

“NO!” I yell, too late, as his sword passes right through. Shinji stumbles, and Obito takes his head off with a single touch and the pull of Kamui. 

—

Itachi watches as the Guardian's body collapses to its knees, now minus a head. He swallows thickly and palms another kunai. 

Next to him, Brick swears, and her chakra flutters as she draws on it. 

Itachi has never seen her this scared before. 

“I’m only here for the Daimyo. I’ll let you live if you stand aside.” The masked man says, kicking the body over. 

Behind them, Masaru has begun pulling the Daimyo from the carriage and is leading him away. Good. Itachi uses the man’s distraction to throw the kunai, not at the masked man but at the Guardian closest to the Daimyo. It slices a line across his cheek but it also breaks the illusion he was trapped in. The Guardian shakes his head like a dog, immediately takes stock of the situation, and begins herding the Daimyo, the guard with the henge, and Masaru away.

And then the masked man tsks like he’s reprimanding an errant schoolboy, turns towards Masaru, and takes a single step. “I’ll take that as a no,” he growls.

And he blurs. 

Itachi barely has any time to think before the enemy reappears in front of the Guardian, punching an arm straight through his chest. Masaru yelps as blood splatters across his face before receiving a vicious kick that sends him flying into a tree with a wet crunch. 

“NO!”  Someone yells. Itachi isn’t sure who said it, him or Brick. 

Masaru isn’t moving and something cracks a little, deep inside, like a piece of Itachi has just come undone, but he’s frozen.

Three more samurai rush the man and all three fall to his sword.

Brick looks between him, Masaru, and the masked man and grimaces. Their team has the attention of a dangerous enemy and he sees the exact moment Brick decides to do something about it. 

“Fuck it.” 

Her strange chakra flares, bright and obnoxious and surely noticeable for miles.

For a moment, everything seems to be okay. And then, as if things were happening underwater, Itachi watches in seeming slow motion as the masked man appears in front of Brick, effortlessly swats aside her punch and grabs her throat in a crushing grip. 

All Itachi can hear is the rush of blood in his ears as she chokes and scrambles, her kicks passing effortlessly through the man’s torso. Her chakra sputters and fades like a candle going dark. Itachi desperately throws a kunai at the man’s back- Brick's warning of ‘ DO NOT get close to him!’ ringing in his ears - only to watch in horror as it passes right through him and pierces Brick instead. 

His eyes burn. Itachi takes one step forward-

- and the ANBU arrive in a whirlwind of activity. The masked man disappears, dropping Brick. But none of it matters, none of it matters. Did Masaru just- is Brick- 

He’s torn on who to rush to, when a vaguely familiar masked agent pulls a purple haired ANBU to Masaru’s side. The woman swiftly begins pressing softly glowing green hands to him and it's a small comfort when his chest shudders and Masaru blinks awake. 

Relieved, Itachi stumbles forward until he’s by Brick’s side, the medic sliding next to her seconds later. Green chakra envelops her wound and the blood slows considerably. A broad hand settles over his shoulder and squeezes, familiar. Sensei. 

“Masaru?” Brick says through her mangled throat, dark bruises already forming, and the woman shushes her as she carefully pulls Itachi’s kunai out of her chest. Bile rises in his throat. 

“Masaru is going to be fine,” Sensei says, taking the blade from the medic and setting it aside. “Worry about yourself.”

“It stuck in her rib. Might have cracked it. Any higher and it would have pierced her heart or lung,” She says clinically, “This is gonna scar, I’m not advanced enough for it not to, senpai.” 

“Just do what you can,” Sensei says, before calling out behind them. “Hound!” 

He’s vaguely aware that the masked agents and samurai have been coordinating the continued protection of the Daimyo, but one ANBU breaks away and kneels by Itachi even as Sensei moves away to go crouch by Masaru.

Now, the name Hatake Kakashi has been on his clansmen’s lips for years now. None of it particularly nice. But when the distinctively silver haired ANBU crouches in front of him and begins softly guiding him through deactivating his newly awakened sharingan, well, Itachi musters up a quiet “thank you, Hatake-san” and ignores the way the older teen goes rigid. 

He’s jolted out of his head when Brick kicks at his ankle lightly. All his guilt comes rushing back full force and he completely ignores Hatake to stare at Brick.

“I’m sorry!” They both blurt at the same time, and Itachi blinks incredulously. 

“You’re sorry? They just pulled my kunai out of your chest!” Itachi hisses, all traces of composure gone. He feels frazzled, stretched thin. The careful mask he wears has been stripped away. 

The purple haired ANBU runs a glowing hand over Brick’s throat and the already dark bruises lighten. Brick coughs twice before humming a quiet thank you, green eyes flicking to the woman before settling unerringly back onto Itachi.

“You and Masaru got hurt because of me. Because I was too weak to do anything.” Itachi says, trying to make her understand. Because maybe if she understands how much of a fuck up he is she’ll stop looking at him like that. Like he’s a better person than he is. Like she still loves likes him after he just stabbed her .

Brink frowns mulishly. “It was my plan that got Masaru hurt. I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

Itachi’s about to open his mouth to keep arguing when he’s smacked lightly on the back of the head. 

Masaru looks worse for wear, being supported by Sensei, legs dragging uselessly on the ground before Ensui-sensei scoops them up too. He leans over and awkwardly smacks Brick as well. 

“You’re both idiots.” Masaru says simply, seeming not even to notice the state he’s in. 

Sensei- because the ANBU with the green lines is definitely Sensei- sighs. “Cut the chatter, kids. We’re not out of the woods quite yet.” 

That sobers all three of them up completely, Itachi straightening to stand at attention. He can hear the Daimyo sputtering and shrieking over by the carts, ordering his remaining men about even as they gather the dead. 

The comforting forest of Hashirama trees and dappled sunlight has now turned sinister, shadows lengthening in his mind’s eye. The gap between them and that man was astronomical, and Itachi fears an enemy could still be watching and he’d be none the wiser. 

Sensei must feel the same by the way he scans their surroundings, grip tense on Masaru. He’s still slouched, lithe and smooth like a panther, but it must be forced because there’s a tension in the line of his shoulders. 

They eventually decide to head back to Konoha for further medical treatment while the ANBU team- minus Sensei and the purple haired medic- escorts the Daimyo the rest of the way. This is no longer a mission for genin.

It’s a tense journey, with Sensei carrying Masaru and the woman supporting Brick. Apparently she blew through most of her reserves flaring her chakra so hard. Masaru is definitely the worst off, though, since he hurt something in his back hitting the tree. The medic had numbed his spine  with chakra but until they get back they won’t know the extent of the damage. 

Itachi remembers that terrible crunch as Masaru hit the tree and winces.

It’s a long and quiet trip back.

—

Chapter Text

For some couples, ANBU status is a bit of an open secret. For Yasushi, it was the entire reason he met Ensui in the first place. 

While his normal patients are general forces, typically the average career chuunin or genin, it wasn’t unheard of for him to counsel a jounin into retirement or an ANBU back into regular forces.

What he wasn’t expecting was for a paranoid, deeply intelligent, emotionally-stunted 20 year old ANBU captain to track him down, show up at his apartment, and beg for tips on how to ‘not fuck up a child’. 

What Sandaime-sama was doing placing a tiny clan heir- no matter how prodigious- with someone as deeply entrenched in special forces as Ensui was at the time, Yasushi will never know. 

But he did know that it takes tremendous courage and self reflection to admit when you’re out of your depth, and to ask for help. Especially for a shinobi. 

So Yasushi had opened his door a little wider and welcomed Ensui inside his home, and later, his heart. And now, three years later, Yusushi has a wonderful boyfriend and Ensui has grown more confident and settled. He took taking a full team with relative grace instead of just a newly graduated apprentice with terror clenched between his teeth. Yasushi would call that growth.

So yes, Yasushi has known from the beginning about Ensui’s old position, which he had quietly hoped was left in the past. Nothing ruins a person quite like a career in black ops. But he couldn’t deny Ensui when he wanted to go back into ANBU for his genin team. They long ago established boundaries in their relationship- he could give advice and counsel, but he was his boyfriend, not his therapist. Ensui had grown far enough that he could decide for himself what was safe for his mental health.

He almost regrets that when he sees how wrecked Ensui looks, standing in the hospital room. Damn ANBU to hell.

Yasushi sees his love falter while pulling off his armor and gently takes the shin guard from his unresisting hands, kneeling down to begin unclasping the other one. Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t seeing him leave on missions, but seeing what's left of him when he returns. 

“They’re fine, Ensui.” 

Ensui breathes in deep, a ragged inhale that tells Yasushi he was holding his breath again. He gently tugs Ensui’s palm until it lays flat against his chest and breathes in deep for four seconds, holds for seven, and out for eight. He keeps going until Ensui shakily copies him. 

“I almost lost them,” he whispers, tone like breaking glass. “My kids.” 

“You didn’t. They’re right in the next room. Now finish getting changed so you can go sit with them.” 

“I… alright.”

—

Ensui takes another second to pull himself back together, to pack away the unsure, broken young man and don the guise of a confident jounin. Seeing his students crumpled on the ground almost shattered him. It’s like someone struck a chord so deep he can still feel it thrum under his skin. 

It’s foolish- yes, they got hurt. But they’re alive. That doesn’t stop his feelings from threatening to drown him. 

He was never supposed to get this attached.

He wants to fall apart. He wants to destroy that masked man. He wants to slide a kunai into the soft underbelly of this world and rip it wide open for everyone to see.

As much as he jokes about having revolutionaries on his team, he’s finally beginning to see the rot that pervades the shinobi system. What kind of society sends their youngest to fight? To kill? To die at the hands of a shadowy adversary? If his ANBU team wasn’t there…

He thinks back to what Brick said. “Please forget any borderline seditious comments I’ve made.”  

He remembers a quiet conversation, sitting on the grass of a training field. 

“The village system was started to end the bloodshed. Now we’re just better at justifying it.”

How has it taken him so long to see this? To see past the rosy glow of the Will of Fire, the patriotic zeal that drives shinobi to bleed for home and country? 

“I wish we could just do away with it all. End the whole system of institutionalized violence.”

His kids know. They see. If Brick’s dogged determination to single-handedly overturn decades old legislation is any indication…

Yes, he wants nothing more than to shatter apart and start tearing down walls. But he needs to be strong for his kids, so he shoves away his quietly mutinous feelings and pauses at the door to the next room. 

He can feel the weight of the next few days on his shoulders. Already the Uchiha elders are demanding a meeting to discuss Itachi’s awakened sharingan, while the Hokage wants to debrief the team himself. 

Hatake sent a message an hour ago saying the Daimyo had been successfully delivered to the Capital, so that’s good at least.

He finally steps into the hospital room, and Itachi startles awake with the flash of red in his eyes before he relaxes and they revert back to a cool black. The young genin had been slumped in the visitors chair next to Masaru’s bed, but now he straightens and runs a sleepy hand over his face, caught on the edge of exhaustion.

“Brick’s in the other room getting checked up by a Hyuuga. They want to make sure she didn't damage her chakra coils.” Itachi reports. 

Ensui holds back a grimace. She had flared her chakra so hard, so fast, it would be a shock if her coils weren't inflamed. When he sensed her chakra in those woods… he shivers at the memory of raw fear and terror that had burst from the distance. A desperate SOS that had left him sprinting forward in fear for his student’s lives. 

Ensui drags another chair over and sinks into it, before grabbing the clipboard attached to Masaru’s bed. The boy lies unconscious, still drugged from his emergency surgery. The nurses had taken one look at Masaru cradled in Ensui’s arms and rushed him off. 

Minor fractures to thoracic vertebrae T6-8. No nerve damage. 

Ensui blows out a breath in relief. He was so worried he had jostled him too much on the trip back and somehow made things irreparably worse. Masaru would have to wear a brace for a couple weeks, but fractures and bruising are much simpler to recover from than any nerve damage. He would be fine. He would. Chakra is one hell of a medicine.

Suddenly Masaru’s family bursts through the door, startling Itachi into flashing his sharingan again. Hmm. They’d have to work on that. 

Following behind is Brick’s mom, and funnily enough the young Yamanaka and Inuzuka his kids occasionally hang around. Brick follows sedately behind, a puzzled frown on her face. 

Slowly, Ensui makes room for the frantic parents and goes to stand a silent vigil in the corner. 

He has some thinking to do.

—

Our debrief occurs the morning of our second day back. Since Masaru is still in the hospital, Sensei takes a verbal report from him and waves off his participation in the formal debrief. 

I envy him. Being called to the Hokage’s office feels sort of like being called to the principal's office, if your principal was the extremely powerful undisputed leader of your military state. 

Sarutobi Hiruzen studies us from across his desk as we file into his office one by one. Standing to the right of his desk is Danzo, and to his left Koharu and Homura sit on the couch. The full council? 

Hiruzen’s gaze lingers on the remaining bruises across my neck before it finally rests on Sensei. 

“Report.”

Sensei glances towards us before sighing. “The kids recognized my mask.” 

Hiruzen leans forward. “Will you need a new one?” 

It feels like we pass some sort of test when Sensei simply shrugs and says, “They’d have found out at some point anyways.” 

Hiruzen hums and taps his pipe against the desk. “Continue.” 

And in a manner that screams practiced and routine, Sensei methodically and succinctly outlines his ANBU team’s version of events. 

And wasn’t that a surprise. Not only is Sensei part of ANBU, but he’s a captain. One with enough experience that he was put in charge of a team with Kakashi on it. I suppose someone needed to lead the silver haired teen before he was ready for captaincy. 

It’s also nice to hear that my chakra flare actually worked as a signal to the team. Apparently it probably would have taken them another minute to realize anything was wrong. Far too long in a fight between shinobi.

Once his report wraps up, Sensei flicks a finger for Itachi to step forward and my anxiety ramps up.

I expected the team to have questions. Questions that would come out during our debrief. I knew too much about an unknown missing nin, knew enough to warn them away from close combat. So I spent the entire time in the hospital desperately coming up with excuses for my knowledge, dreading and fearing a trip to T&I, or at the very least some very pointed questions from the leaders of our military dictatorship. 

Obito wouldn’t be found on the pages of a bingo book- he’s currently nothing more than a ghost haunting the margins of society. Some no name genin from Konoha has no business recognizing him. 

As soon as Itachi mentions how I reacted, what I said, all eyes will be on me.

Did Danzo have dealings with Obito? It seems like something he would do, but I can’t remember if they knew each other. They both interfered with the original Akatsuki, and they both will have a hand in the Uchiha massacre, but I have no idea if that was an intentional collaboration or coincidence. 

Sweat begins dripping down my back as Itachi continues his account.

What I’m not expecting is for Itachi, after shooting me a shrewd glance, to completely gloss over my outburst during the mission.

“… the attacker showed incredible prowess with genjutsu, catching the entirety of the Daimyo’s contingent off guard-” 

Danzo interrupts, “If the assailant was so good, then how did you three manage to break it?” 

A surge of annoyance runs through me, and even Koharu shoots Danzo a thinly veiled glare, but Itachi remains calm, face placid and still. “I’m an Uchiha, councilor. As I was saying…” 

And he continues to give his report with no mention of my warnings. 

Eventually he wraps up his report, and gestures at me, saying, “but Brick was the only survivor to physically engage the enemy. She might have more insight into his technique.” 

I take a moment to collect my thoughts, which goes unnoticed by Hiruzen but makes Koharu smile. Sensei and Itachi shift slightly when I don’t speak immediately. To them, I’m not usually one to consider my words before speaking.

Ha! 

In normal circumstances it’s pretty true- my brain to mouth filter is abysmal. But there are certain things I keep under lock and key. My reincarnation, the future… 

If only they knew how much foreknowledge I’ve been sitting on. How hard it is to remember what I should and shouldn’t know at any given point.

I find myself slipping into the same hyper focus that I adopt on missions- the careful consideration of crafting a lie takes the same focus as sliding a blade between the ribs. Without realizing, I unconsciously mirror Sensei’s posture. The watchful stillness of a predator before it explodes into action.

How much could I get away with? What is a reasonable amount of intel to be gained from one encounter? Danzo is right there, watching a little too keenly. But if the village is aware of the limitations of Obito’s Kamui sooner than in canon, perhaps someone would work on countering it much earlier… 

Fuck Obito. Fuck Danzo. 

“Attacks that should have hit passed straight through his body with no resistance. Almost as if he were an illusion. However, he was solid and substantial when attacking. When he touched Shinji’s head, it was removed cleanly…” I continue, allowing a touch of hesitance to slip into my tone, “therefore, I believe that the Masked Man had some kind of space-time technique.” 

“That’s a bold claim, girl.” Danzo immediately sneers, tapping his cane forcefully against the ground.

It is a bold declaration- if I didn’t have the extra knowledge that I do, I would never have claimed it. Konoha prides itself on having a monopoly on sealing and other forbidden techniques surrounding space-time. There’s a reason Minato Namikaze threw his sealed kunai all over the place- no other village would have the know-how to replicate it. To claim an enemy used a space-time technique would be admitting that either someone outside the village learned how to use one or that there was a missing nin who stole state secrets. 

It would almost be better if I could reassure them it was a space-time based kekkei genkai technique, or more specifically a sharingan technique, so that they knew it wasn’t an enemy nation suddenly gaining a sealmaster. 

But that would place undue attention on the Uchiha, something I was definitely trying to avoid. 

So instead I simply square my shoulders and refuse to take back my words. 

Koharu looks at me for a long measure before nodding slowly. “Brick is no fool- if she says it was a space-time technique then I am inclined to believe her.” 

It takes so much self control not to stick my tongue out at Danzo. 

Hiruzen frowns behind his hands. “Troubling. The mission is now considered an S-rank, despite your early return. Ensui, make sure your team understands the responsibilities and procedures for completing such a politically sensitive mission, and your pay will be adjusted accordingly. Dismissed.” 

My hands are trembling slightly as we exit the office, both from the stress of being in the same room as Danzo and because of the mission ranking. 

An S-rank! As genin!

Sure, I knew that any confrontation with Obito deserved an S-ranking, but for the village to agree? It’s more likely due to the Daimyo’s presence, but either way Team Ensui is shaping up to have the craziest mission record. 

Now to sneak away without answering any of Itachi’s questions…

As we leave the tower, Itachi pointedly puts a hand on my shoulder and says to Sensei, “we’re going to go check on Masaru.” 

So said, he begins dragging me towards the hospital.

Ah. Damn. 

— 

Masaru was having a pleasant conversation with Shisui when his younger teammates barged into his hospital room. 

Shisui cuts himself off mid sentence, teeth clacking shut at the interruption. And it was going so well, too… He was far from the usual nervous rambling he happened to do when talking with the other boy, too lost in the haze of good conversation and perhaps maybe too many painkillers. 

So when Itachi comes in, dragging a Brick who has her mission-face on, all Masaru can do is groan. 

“I’m too high for this.” He complains. 

“You don’t even know why we’re here.” Itachi says, dragging a chair closer to the bed. 

“Doesn’t matter. Brick’s got her scary face on, you look like you just got a new jutsu to puzzle over, and I’m high as a kite. It’s not a good combination for my sanity.” 

Next to him, Shisui barks out a laugh. “Oh my god. He does look like the genin that caught the kunai.” 

They all ignore the way Brick stops to echo the idiom in a confused mutter under her breath. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s gotten an idiom wrong, or expressed confusion at a common saying. She even gestures weirdly, sometimes, or points at people, or goes to open up a book backwards and has to flip it over. It’s best to just ignore her oddities. 

Shisui must read the room, because he politely excuses himself with a promise to bring back some takeout. Thank god, because hospital food is terrible. 

As soon as the door shuts behind Shisui, Itachi turns to Brick and just. Stares at her. She manages about 30 seconds before cracking. “Okay! Okay. What, Itachi?” 

“You recognized him. The masked man. But you didn’t want me to say that.” 

Oh, they were doing this now, then. 

Brick visibly deflates, shooting glances at the door, the window, and the corners of the room. 

“You guys know I’ve been meeting with Utatane-sama, right? Well a lot of my time is spent looking at old documents. And sometimes, mission records.” 

Masaru nods. 

“Well, I didn’t want this to get out, because it would get Koharu in trouble, but sometimes she lets me look at classified documents as long as nothing leaves the room. I read about him there.” 

Itachi hums. “That’s why she believed you, about his technique? Then why isn’t he in the bingo books?” 

Masaru is a bit lost, but Brick shakes her head. 

“There’s nothing so concrete as that. Just. Mentions of vanishing supplies. Oddly perfect wounds. Sightings of a man in an orange mask right before a mission went FUBAR. Small, incidental things that added up, the more I looked through the reports. Okay?” 

She’s lying. Masaru might have missed it, might have believed her, but her response was the textbook perfect way to lie. The method they’d been taught in the academy. Steady heartbeat, eye contact but not too much eye contact. Give something for them to hold over you, a little slack, but not enough to hang yourself with.

She’s admitting a relatively minor truth to hide a bigger lie. 

Masaru shares a glance with Itachi and the younger boy flicks a finger, out of Brick’s line of sight. He caught it too. 

Masaru tilts his head slightly. Do we call her out on it?

Itachi blinks twice. No.

Masaru thinks back to that disastrous mission. “If you two trust me in anything, trust me in this.” 

He did trust her. He does trust her. He might not believe her right now, but he believes in her. And that’s all he needs.

“Okay,” he says, patting her knee, and ignores the look of relief on her face. 

Itachi nods slowly. “Okay.” 

It’s a quiet couple minutes until Shisui bursts back into the room with the smell of grilled meats and warm broth. 

— 

Hana hits the dirt with a quiet oof, the Haimaru brothers barking encouragement from the sidelines. Her usual sparring partner, Itsuo, had clan training today so Hana had tracked down her new Aburame friend and begged him to spar with her. 

Yoji had given her an inscrutable look before nodding once.

The spar is going fine until she accidentally knocks his sunglasses off his face, and the next thing she knows she’s on the ground with a blade pressed against her throat.

For a brief moment, Hana is afraid of the quiet boy. His eyes are dead and flat, no warmth or feeling behind them at all. And then with a blink it’s gone, and Yoji is holding out his hand to help her back up, blade tucked away. 

Hana shakes off her reluctance and takes his hand. As he pulls her to her feet, Hana muses on why she’s training so hard in the first place.

She remembers dark bruises winding around Brick’s throat, the scent of fear-shame-sadness that permeated Masaru’s hospital room. Her friends are stronger than her and still got hurt, so it’s on Hana to work harder. Because she fully intends to keep that promise to Brick that she made all those months ago when the other girl graduated early. That she’d catch up. 

Well, now she has incentive to catch up and more. If she’s strong enough to stand by their side, then maybe then they won’t get hurt as often. And if they still get hurt, maybe she’ll just have to look into putting them back together again. 

Hana always wanted to be a veterinarian, a healer for the dogs her clan partners with. But there’s nothing stopping her from healing anyone she works with, dog or human. 

It will take work. Lots of work. But Hana is her mother’s daughter: stubborn and unrelenting. 

Hana grits her teeth and slowly raises her fists, limbs shaking with the effort to keep them aloft. 

“Again!” 

A flicker of what she’d call respect flashes across his face, and he nods, sliding his sunglasses back in place and obscuring his features once more.

“Begin.”

—

Fresh from a chat with Mikoto a couple days after our return, I slowly make my way back towards our apartment. I could tell that Mikoto’s frustrated that the plans for a commercial district on Uchiha lands have been stalled. But she still offered plenty of praise for how far we’ve taken it. Unfortunately, until the Uchiha elders and the Konoha council approve the plans, that’s all they’ll be. Conversations over tea and what-ifs. 

Flushing, I remember what she said as I was on the way out the door. “You’re an odd little genius, aren’t you?”

I’m no genius, really. I just know more. 

Sometimes, it feels a bit like cheating. Not only do I come with a background of over a decade of standardized education, years of work experience, and access to thousands of years of recorded history, but I also have around 300 episodes worth of insight into these peoples histories, motivations, and future actions. I probably know more about the interpersonal relationships of foreign kage than anyone in our village. 

I also happen to know the bloody road her clan's exclusionist tendencies will lead to. 

It’s very easy to suggest policies in light of that. 

All too soon I’m kicking off my sandals and stepping into a pair of house slippers. “I’m home!” 

Mom calls an amused warning from further inside and I brace for impact. 

Rock slides around the corner and slams straight into my shins, babbling non stop. “You’re home!” 

“I am,” I confirm, laughing as I sweep him up into a hug. “Just like I was home yesterday, and the day before, and the day before…” 

Rock pouts at my teasing and my good mood evaporates, just a little. It must be so hard on him, when I leave on missions or spend all day training. Not to mention it’s only been a couple weeks that Mom’s been home long enough from the hospital to take care of him full time. 

Speaking of… 

“When’s your next check up?” I ask, leaning on the doorframe separating the living room and kitchen. Rock wiggles to be let down and I set him carefully on his feet.

Mom glances up from chopping up some green onion, and grimaces. “Next week. It’s only for the day, I hopefully won’t have to stay overnight.” 

“That’s good.” I reply. Rock visibly gets bored of our conversation and runs off to go play.

“How about Masaru? When will he be discharged?” She asks, sliding the green onion aside and pulling out pork belly. Ooh, tonjiru tonight. 

Refocusing on the conversation, I hum thoughtfully. “Maybe tomorrow? The doctors said he’d be stuck in a brace for a while, so I’m not sure how practice is going to work out.” 

At the word “practice”, her knife thuds a little more forcefully against the cutting board. 

“Mom?” I tentatively ask.

She sighs and puts down the knife. 

“Honey, are you sure this is what you want?” 

Caught off guard, I simply stare at her for a couple seconds. 

“I… where is this coming from?” 

It’s like a damn breaking loose. “You were seriously injured! Again! And I can see how stressed you are, and how much you hurt yourself, fighting to keep up with your training. You’re only nine! Your hands alone…” she finally trails off. 

Dumbfounded, I just stare at her, one hand absentmindedly running over the scar on my chest. I can feel the raised skin through my shirt. I look down at my hands and see callouses, and small knicks and scratches. I look at the muscles developing on my arms, evidence of hard work, all the blood sweat and tears I’ve put into molding myself into something dangerous. 

My voice is quiet but steady when I finally reply. “Yes, I’ve gotten hurt. And I’ll probably keep getting hurt. But mom, I need to do this. It’s important to me. And it will probably be just as important to Rock, too.” 

I don’t know if it’s my steady conviction or the implication that Rock will follow in my footsteps, but she starts crying even as she nods. “Okay. Okay. I understand. I won’t doubt you again.” 

If my hands tremble when I hug her, she doesn’t comment on it.

—

Hiruzen looks up to see the stack of paperwork left to review and squashes the urge to sigh. It’s only been two weeks since the Daimyo’s visit and subsequent disaster-filled journey back to the capital, and the man is already sending further correspondence. It’s ultimately a good thing, as it shows the improved relations between Konoha and the capital. But it leads to increased meaningless drivel he has to approve. 

Just that morning, a royal message runner arrived politely “requesting” two new ninja to join the Twelve Guardian Ninja. Word spread quickly among his jounin, but only two ended up submitting applications.

Hiruzen is about to automatically stamp off whoever applied for the position, exhausted after slogging through mission reports, when he looks closer at the names. When did Asuma even submit this? He had no idea his son would want this kind of position. Hiruzen racks his memory for the last time he spoke to his son. It was… at least a week ago, when he submitted an oral report. 

Hiruzen hesitates for a second before stamping his approval. 

Well. Perhaps this would be killing two birds with one stone. He glances at the written summons that was tacked onto the end of the missive, requesting a meeting at the capital with the young team that escorted him halfway. Most likely a show of thanks and political grandstanding all in one.

If his son wants to guard the courts, then he could travel there with a team of genin- and keep an eye on them, while he’s at it. It would be remiss of him to throw three genin to the political wolves, all by themselves.

Plus, interacting with the youth of today would be a good learning experience for Asuma. Babysitting the new generation would build… character. 

Hiruzen smiles and stamps his approval. As soon as Team Ensui is mission-ready again, they’d be back on the road to the daimyo’s palace. 

Chapter Text

Koharu is shuffling through reports when her door opens unexpectedly. A kunai is already in her hand by the time the door hits the wall, but as soon as she realizes who it is she slips the blade away. 

Through the door she sees her secretary shrug helplessly even as Brick shuffles a small child through in front of her. The nine year old is clearly frazzled.

“I’m sorry but Mom’s at her checkup and Mikoto-sama is having tea with the elders and Tsume-san is busy and Maki-baa-chan and Ito-jii are out of town and I’m alreadylateforteamtraining gottagoBYE!”  

The last sentence comes out in a rush. Did she even breathe?

Nonplussed, Koharu can do nothing but watch as her student bolts out the door in a whirlwind of color and noise, leaving a toddler behind. 

Part of Koharu could just throttle the girl for her sheer audacity, while the other part is making eye contact with big round eyes and thinking, he’s so small.

The little one blinks once, shuffles in place for a second, and then drops into a bow and recites a clearly practiced introduction that has the smallest hint of a childish lisp. “Hello. I’m Rock Lee, and I’m three years old.” 

So polite! 

Koharu still has so much work to get done. Piles of reports are stacked on her desk, tons of letters sit unopened. She should call in her secretary and have her hire a genin team to babysit. Or hell, she could make the woman babysit herself. 

Instead, she beckons him forward, reaching for some loose parchment and ink. “Hello, Rock-kun. You may call me Koharu-baasama. Do you like to draw?”

The grin that lights up his face is more than worth it. 

—

Our first full team practice since Masaru’s injury finally healed goes… slightly off the rails. I burst into our usual clearing nearly half an hour late and it all goes downhill from there.

Warmups somehow descend into a free-for-all spar on the small lake to the east of the training field. While it’s technically still winter in Konoha, temperatures have been rising slightly. And, really, they weren’t that cold to begin with. The water is only frozen by the shallower parts of the lake- the middle is still perfect for water walking. 

Halfway through Shisui shows up and demands that Masaru join him for a kenjutsu lesson. 

While Masaru has come pretty far in his swordplay thanks to pretty exclusive lessons from the Uchiha, he was strictly told not to practice without the other boy present until he was less likely to chop one of our arms off in a spar. Or his own. Hence the cheerful Uchiha occasionally gatecrashing our team training.

Sensei waves him off even as he goes back to dozing in the sun. How he can tolerate sitting in the snow for hours I’ll never understand. 

Masaru sheepishly goes to grab his training sword from where he left it by his pack, only wincing slightly as he bends over. The sword was one of Shisui’s old ones, dulled and blunted, making it similar enough to a practice iaito. It was unusable in the field due to a hairline fracture in the blade, but Shisui ensured it would hold until Masaru gained enough confidence and skill to earn live sharpened steel.

While I could vaguely remember people in my old world practicing with wooden swords, Shisui seemed to think that was ludicrous when I mentioned it to him. He argued that it’s important to train with the actual weight and feel of a real blade in your hand, or not at all.

Despite only being passingly familiar with iaido, Shisui agreed it would be a good fit for Masaru to learn- as a sword style, it emphasized precision, situational awareness, and speed, all things he stood to get better at. It’s also a defensive style, focused on reacting to a sudden attack and then resheathing your sword. Perfect for someone like Masaru who tended to hang back and use projectiles and needed his hands free most of the time. Until he can specialize in kenjutsu to the extent Shisui does, this will give him a good close-range option to fall back on instead of taijutsu. 

While the two older boys head towards the middle of the training field to move through the motions of a kata, me and Itachi continue sparring over the water. 

My steps are still a little hesitant, and if I lose concentration I tend to slip a couple inches below the surface of the water and have to rapidly adjust lest I sink right through. But at least I’m much better at water walking than the first time I tried learning it. 

Itachi, of course, makes it look effortless. Luckily this is a taijutsu only spar. If I had to dodge fireballs as well as kicks to the face I would be having much more trouble staying on the surface.

Honestly this spar was more for my benefit than anything- I needed to get used to water walking under any conditions.

Walking on water is actually a fascinating example of surface tension and weight, where you have to spread a constant stream of chakra out of your feet. That chakra forms a layer that increases the surface tension of the water. 

Something something ninja bullshit, to be honest. 

Though it does make me wonder about using chakra in other ways. Most shinobi tend to unconsciously reinforce their body, but I usually have to think about it, directly sending chakra to the limb. Honestly, it was still so odd to me.

However, I think with enough practice I could learn how to cushion impacts with a layer of chakra. My thought process goes a little like this: if a bulletproof vest could absorb most of the force of a bullet by spreading the impact over a larger surface area, a simple punch could probably be blocked entirely through chakra, right?

If I could stand on water , surely I could figure out a chakra shield. 

How hard could it be?

Itachi can probably tell my thoughts are a million miles away from our spar even as I absently dodge his swipes, because he frowns and leaps back, putting distance between us before lowering his arms. 

“What’s wrong?” 

I shake my head forcefully, messy hair flopping into my eyes with the motion. 

“Sorry, sorry. Let’s continue.” 

Itachi nods and without warning launches back into the fight. He practically flickers across the water, putting on speed, and I calmly let him approach. 

Instead of dodging, I block his first three strikes with my forearms to get a feel for the power he’s placing behind the blows. The answer? Quite a lot for someone several years younger and several inches smaller than me. There’s a reason he’s been a genin for longer than I have. 

Since there’s a major gate by my stomach, I decide to let him hit me there. It will make a good place to practice since I can easily build up a layer of protective chakra near the source- the gate. 

Half paying attention to the fight again, I let a trickle of my focus and control stray away from my feet and start building up a layer of chakra. Almost…

Leaping high, I whirl into a kick at Itachi’s head. Itachi isn’t predictable, far from it, but after training together for months now I’ve picked up a couple of his habits- he tends to duck low under high kicks and remain close so he can-

A chakra enhanced fist drives into my stomach like a freight train, completely ignoring my attempt at a barrier.

Gagging, my focus shatters, and I drop below the surface of the lake. While it’s not frozen, it’s still ice cold. The shock of it stuns me- I accidentally heave in a huge breath of water before small hands grasp my arm and heave me back up. 

With barely enough presence of mind to stay on the surface, I lie there choking for a solid minute. 

Fuck, that was stupid. Why did I think that would work?

“Are you okay?” Itachi asks, hands fluttering over my face and shoulders. It would be hilarious if I wasn’t currently hacking up a lung.

Suddenly a hand grasps the back of my shirt and dangles me in the air like a sad wet kitten. “Sensei!” I gasp. “Put me down!” 

“What was that, Brick.” 

I hiss, twisting to latch onto his arm with my legs, squeezing like a limpet. “You’re stretching my jacket!” Every other word is punctuated by a cough. 

“Explain what you were doing.” He says, ignoring me to walk us back towards solid ground. Itachi hurries ahead to grab a spare blanket from his pack. 

Shisui and Masaru are laughing in the distance, but when I shoot them a glare they have the decency to at least pretend to go back to practicing. 

Once I’m bundled up in Itachi’s blanket and scarf and no longer at risk of freezing to death, I try and explain my idea. 

“Well, I wanted to produce a chakra barrier by my stomach…” I begin.

Sensei stares at me, brows raised, his dark eyes roaming my face. 

“What?” I ask, defensively. 

Itachi goes to open his mouth and Sensei holds up a hand, cutting him off. “No, let her finish.” 

Nervous under both of their scrutiny, I slowly finish walking them through my thought process. Every few seconds Itachi looks like he’s about to say something, but with a quelling look from Sensei he subsides. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I finally snap, for once actually sounding all of nine years old, thoroughly done with all of the cryptic looks and their bullshit. 

Sensei’s lips twitch, a hint of humor coloring his tone. “If you don’t figure it out by the end of the day, I’ll tell you.” 

“Fine then.” I scowl, and march off. Itachi follows after a moment. I ignore him for now, and think back to the moment of impact. 

Clearly, a layer of chakra wasn’t the way to go- it felt like being hit by a truck. The energy had nowhere to spread, no chance to dissipate at all. Perhaps a burst of chakra to slow the momentum? Depending on the speed and mass behind the blow, it would take a lot of force to stop one. Less would be needed to divert a punch, but I’d still need enough to affect trajectory. Luckily, wind natured chakra tends to pack an extra oomph . I could probably convert it first, which might take more effort but would use less chakra in the long run. 

Honestly, physics class was several years and a reality behind me, but I didn’t need to calculate anything. Guesswork and instinct would be enough to figure out how much chakra to use. Probably. 

I already know how to expel chakra from my fist in an explosive wave of spiritual and physical energy- now I just need to gather it by my stomach, convert it to wind, and let it go precisely at the moment of impact. 

Pff . End of the day. I’ll show them.

After a solid five minutes of getting the feel for converting my chakra to wind nature at a different point than normal, I feel confident enough for a test run.

“Alright Itachi, hit me!” I whirl on the younger boy, patting my stomach.

“Again?” He asks.

“Yes, yes, now hurry up!” 

He glances at Sensei dubiously (rude) before shrugging and winding up a punch. 

It goes against every instinct to stay still and let someone punch me, but I manage not to instinctively block or dodge. Just as he’s about to make contact, I release a huge burst of chakra from the tenketsu on my stomach. His arm wobbles inches away as he meets the pocket of chakra and displaced air. His fist lands with all the force of a love tap. 

He pulls his hand back and stares at it blankly. This is the most surprised I’ve ever seen the normally stoic boy. 

“ YES! It worked! ” I shout, turning to look at Sensei. However, even the normally placid Nara is gaping, slack jawed, at where Itachi’s punch was blocked. 

Okay. What’s the big deal?

Throwing up my hands, I stomp over to Sensei and nudge his mouth closed, leaning up on my tiptoes to reach his jaw. The shocking part? He lets me. 

“Okay. Explain.” I demand. 

Instead, he gently grabs my arm to pull up the sleeves before he taps my forearm. “Do it here.”

Confused, I release a soft burst of chakra after a moment of concentration. He taps my shoulder and then my leg, and I repeat the process for each tap.

“Are you part Hyuuga?” He finally asks. 

“No? I’m pretty sure my family was from the Land of Iron.” 

Sensei kneels, and very seriously puts his hands on my shoulders. “Never do this in front of anyone else.” 

“Sensei?!” I squawk.

“You can practice this here, in private, and use it out in the field, but not around anyone from Konoha. Do you understand?” 

At his serious tone, even Masaru and Shisui stop and glance over.

“No, I don’t. Why?” 

“Normal shinobi can only release chakra from their hands and feet. The Hyuuga are the only ones known to release it from any tenketsu. It’s tied to their hiden techniques- they could see this as jutsu theft.” 

That’s bullshit. 

Sensei frowns and I realize I said that last thought out loud.

“What do you mean you can’t do this?” I ask, frustrated, whipping to look at Itachi. “It’s the same as using your hands or feet!” 

“It’s really not.” Sensei says. “Most people can’t emit chakra from their other tenketsu, Brick. It just doesn’t work like that.” 

What the fuck.

Sure, when I was first learning I struggled to mold chakra (and still do), but it was never an issue of sensing tenketsu, it was more figuring out how to push it towards them and balancing my odd amounts of physical and spiritual energy. Was this because I was used to a body without them? The chakra circulatory system was so obvious to me . Of course I could use all of it. 

“An Uchiha on the team and it’s the civilian born stealing jutsu…” he mutters, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. I try and fail not to feel offended.

“Hey! I didn’t know this was a Hyuuga thing! I thought they just spun in circles slapping shit, anyways.” I huff, crossing my arms before I give in to the urge to punctuate my point with aggressive hand waving. Shinobi tend to not take that well. “This is my technique. Er, technique in progress. And I’m not gonna stop using it just because someone will get mad.” 

“ Get mad.” He mouths. “Brick, this isn’t some civilian cease and desist. This is serious.” 

By now, Shisui and Masaru have slowly wandered over to listen to our argument. I ignore them. 

“They don’t have the monopoly on tenketsu usage!” I yell, frustrated. “Who do I have to talk to to prove it’s a unique technique?” 

Sensei’s mouth flattens. “You, quite frankly, do not have the rank or clout to push this. Don’t .” 

“ Fine .” I hiss, and stalk off the training ground. 

—

Ensui watches her leave, a complicated feeling emerging in his chest. He turns back to the other kids with a sigh, only to be met with three glares of varying intensity.

“I just fucked up, didn’t I.” 

Three nods. 

Shit.

Ensui tilts his head back to stare unseeing at the clouds above him. Lets his fear and annoyance simmer down to something a little tamer. Waits half a beat more to reign it all in so he doesn’t say something he’ll regret. 

“Fine. Itachi, work on that earth jutsu I showed you. Masaru, keep an eye on your footwork. Your left foot tends to slide out of position.” 

The boys nod mulishly, still giving him pointed glares. He supposes it’s a good thing his kids will stand up for each other, even if it’s against him. Doesn’t make him feel any better, though. 

He nods at the other Uchiha, before flickering away. 

By the time he catches up to her, his anger and annoyance has faded into acceptance. He finds her shivering in a tree four training grounds away, staring at the Hokage mountain in the distance. 

Ensui guiltily remembers that she just took a dunk in the lake in the middle of winter, so he slides his jacket over her shoulders without a word and takes a seat on a branch next to her, content to wait her out. 

He doesn’t think she realizes it, but she smothers her chakra down to nothing when she’s upset and thinking hard. He hasn’t told her because it’s not necessarily a bad habit to have, it just makes her a little bit harder for him to find in moments like this.

She finally glances at him, and pulls his jacket tighter, but doesn’t say a word, not yet.

His little terror of a kunoichi certainly knows how to fill the silence, and has no problem speaking her mind in the heat of the moment, but give her time to cool off like this and she tends to get stuck in her own head for a bit. 

That’s okay, he can wait forever if he needs to.

The sun is dipping towards the horizon by the time she finally speaks up. 

“I’ll keep it under wraps until I can use it effectively, but after that nothing is going to stop me from using everything in my arsenal. You can’t ask me to hold myself back for something like tradition and propriety. That’s asking to get me killed.” 

“I understand.” He says simply. 

She twitches. “That’s it?” 

“Yup,” he drawls, “that’s it.” 

Despite being born into one of the more relaxed clans in Konoha, the Nara are still a clan. 

He grew up with the tradition and secrecy and ritual that surrounds a hiden technique like his shadow jutsu, listened to the wisdom and experience of his elders, knew what it was like to use techniques with generations of experience behind them. 

He can guess all too well the stifling weight of the Hyuuga, and the lengths they will go to protect their techniques.

But… at the same time, he can only imagine the terrifying unknowns of being a first generation ninja. Of navigating the shinobi world, learning techniques practically alone. Now that the shock of her ability has worn off, he can admit that he overreacted. It was unfair of him to get frustrated with a nine year old.

“I’ll do some more research into tenketsu and chakra use. I have a couple contacts at the hospital I can ask. Surely the ability isn’t limited to the Hyuuga.” 

She snorts. “Contacts. Just say friends like a normal person.” 

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

They sit together for a moment longer in comfortable silence before her eyes go wide and she scrambles to sit up. 

“I forgot about Rock!” 

—

I sprint towards Koharu’s office, sticking to street level. I manage to startle several civilians but earn nothing but eye rolls from the shinobi around me once I flicker my chakra in the pattern for non-emergency. 

“Running late, sorry!” I yell behind me. While it’s not strictly forbidden for shinobi to sprint through the streets of Konoha, it can be a little rude when it’s not mission or training related. 

Visions of a toddler tantrum, Koharu’s quiet rage, and a long lecture flash through my mind on loop. 

So I’m entirely unprepared to open the door and find my mentor sitting seiza on the floor of her own office, daintily pouring water into a mini tea set, gently explaining the steps to a tea ceremony to my enthralled little brother. Loose papers with crude drawings lie scattered across the floor. 

“I-” 

“Sit down, Brick,” she says, not even looking up. “You can learn this too.” 

I sit down. 

Rock has ink stains all over his hands, but they’re dry when he excitedly wraps his whole hand around two of my fingers, hands not quite big enough to wrap around more than that. 

“I made a picture!” He tries to whisper, but only manages the conversational volume that kids think is being quiet. 

He then proudly presents a drawing. Several blobby stick figures stand around a smaller one. 

“That’s you! And Mom, and Maki-baa and Ito-jiji and Uchiha-sama and Koharu-baasama and silly Itsuo-nii-”

And he proceeds to name almost every person who has ever watched over him. 

It takes everything in me not to cry right then and there. The fact that, despite not having the most stable schedule of caretakers, he’s still the same bright little boy as always. That he knows that he’s loved and cherished, no matter how busy his mom and sister are. 

I let him continue babbling and make eye contact with Koharu. 

“Thank you.” I mouth silently. 

She simply inclines her head and keeps pouring her pretend tea. 

—

Chapter Text

Mom escapes the hospital the next morning, just in time for Masaru to knock on our door. 

“We’ve received a summons to the Hokage’s office,” he says, leaning against the doorframe and holding up a scroll. “I told the messenger I’d collect you.”

“A mission? Already?” Mom asks.

Shrugging, I hand her the lemon poppy seed muffin I was about to eat, give her a quick hug, and kiss Rock on the cheek. 

“I’ll see you in a bit!” I call out, dashing out the apartment door. 

Itachi falls into step beside us about halfway to the tower, and Sensei appears at our side two meters from the door, nonchalant, like he was there the whole time. 

In the hall, Sensei stops us before we can go all the way up. 

“I won’t be joining you on this mission…” 

“Aw man.” Masaru slumps. 

“… because you three were requested specifically, and because the Hokage has assigned a different jonin to lead the mission. I won’t be joining you for the brief, but come see me after and I’ll help you get ready, alright?” He finishes.

We nod, and climb the rest of the stairs.

“Ah. Team Ensui? Go on in.” The secretary waves us through with barely a glance. 

Familiar with the firm practicality common to secretaries everywhere, I give her a polite nod as we step through the door. Flicking Sensei a goodbye as he hangs back from stepping through the doorway.

Inside, Hiruzen regards us from across the desk, even as a young brown haired man scowls as we enter and a vaguely familiar young Aburame stands in the corner. 

The Third’s gaze is warm as he looks us over. 

“I trust that recovery went smoothly?” He asks. 

There’s a small pause before Masaru realizes he was talking to him. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Now that your team is mission-ready, you’ve been invited by the Daimyo to visit the capital. You’ll be escorted by Asuma and young Aburame-kun, who are taking the trials to become one of the Twelve.” 

Wow. Wait, what?

I could have sworn that in canon Asuma kind of  just… left to become a member of the Twelve, after a pretty spectacular fight with his dad, too. A quick glance at the young man beside us reveals a pretty flat expression, sure, but he doesn’t look pissed. Just bored and possibly a little annoyed. 

And while I don’t remember the other members, I thought that the other notable one was a monk, not an Aburame. And certainly not one as young as this one. How old was he anyways?

… maybe I was mis-remembering things? 

Mentally shrugging, I tune back into the briefing. Masaru shoots me an amused glance, as if he could tell I wasn’t paying much attention. And if the twinkle in the Third’s eye is any indication, he could too. Oops.

“You’ll be meeting up with another jonin applicant in the capital. He’s currently on a mission and will join you for the trials when he’s done. Your stay will be until the trials are over, and all of you will return afterwards. Historically, it takes at least a month for the Guard to go through new applications and decide on replacements.”

Oh thank god, we wouldn’t be stuck there the whole time while they picked people. It also explains why I couldn’t remember an Aburame on the Twelve- he probably doesn’t make the cut.

Right?

I have to drag my attention away from the cloaked figure, earning an elbow nudge from Masaru the third time I catch myself staring. Where have I met him before?

I remember suddenly . The kid I bumped into. The strange one.

I slowly raise my hand. 

“Yes, Lee-kun?” 

“Isn’t he a genin?” I ask, pointing at Yoji before remembering that’s considered rude and dropping my arm. 

Hiruzen laughs. “Yes, he is. He said he’d like to take the trials as a training opportunity.” He says, before sobering up, “You will have three days to prepare for a trip to the capital. I suggest packing a formal set of clothing. Asuma, Aburame-kun, that gives you three days to prepare for the trials.” 

Now, really, I’m not the best at remembering when to use honorifics or not, but something about the way the Third addresses his own son rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s the tone he says his name in, but it borders on condescending. No wonder Asuma seems so prickly.

There’s some more discussion about when to depart, but soon enough we’re standing outside the office, Sensei long gone by now. 

I snag both of my boys' sleeves and forcibly stop them from leaving to find Sensei. “We’re going to see Utatane-sama first.” 

“Why?” Masaru asks, readjusting his glasses that slipped down his nose at our abrupt change in direction. “Isn’t she a busy woman?” 

“She’ll make time for us.” I say, making my way towards her office. 

Koharu’s secretary, who I’m starting to doubt is actually a civilian, scowls furiously when we show up, tapping her scheduling book repeatedly. She opens her mouth to yell but I interrupt before she can.

Deliberately misunderstanding her, I give her a cheerful thumbs up. “Her schedule is clear, huh? Thanks!” 

And I push open the doors. 

Danzo and Koharu pause mid-argument.

In the time it takes for me to blink, startled, Koharu has snatched Danzo’s wrist, stopping him from throwing a kunai. There’s a tense moment of silence before she lets go and he lowers his arm slowly. 

Panicking slightly, I throw myself into a bow, backing out of the room. “Sorry, sorry! Wrong room, sorry!” 

“Brick-” Koharu starts, before I slam the doors closed again in a rush. 

The boys are staring at me, but I ignore them. “Okay. Plan B. We’re talking to your mom, Itachi.” 

“… alright.”

—

I’m not expecting to walk into the Uchiha clan head’s house and find my little brother cheerfully rearranging pillows into a fort while Sasuke dozes beside him. 

Sharing a glance with Itachi, we move further into the house in search of our parents. Masaru trails behind, still a little awkward in the traditional style home. 

We don’t find Mikoto, but I am surprised to find Mom and Fugaku sitting out on the engawa, sipping tea and conversing amicably in low tones. 

Huh?

I didn’t think they had any reason to talk to each other, especially not without Mikoto as a buffer. They’re just… two completely different people.

From what I understand about Mom’s life before I was born, her and Dad immigrated to Konoha when they were teenagers. 

It was a whirlwind romance between two kids that went against their families wishes. Dad was the son of a lowly stonemason, Mom the eldest daughter of an Iron noble’s lady-in-waiting. They lived in two very different spheres of influence, and had to run away to ever hope of staying together. 

Neither technically finished their respective apprenticeships or educations, so Dad ended up working as a general construction worker while Mom took up housekeeping.

To anyone else who was training to be a handmaiden and tutor to a noble family, it would have been grating to suddenly fall so low in status. But Mom has never seemed upset with her lot in life. 

Meanwhile? Fugaku has been a shinobi for pretty much his entire life. He’s the head to a prominent clan, the leader of an important police force. 

All of this to say- what would Mom and Fugaku even have to talk about?

Mom startles softly when she sees us, despite me and Masaru not even making the attempt to be quiet. Itachi doesn’t count, he’s naturally quiet like a cat. Fugaku nods slightly over the rim of his tea cup. 

“We have a mission to the capital, Father. Is mother around to give advice?” Itachi asks softly. 

He gestures towards the south end of the yard. “She’s visiting Kitagawa-sama. What do you need help with?” 

I raise my hand sheepishly. “Protocols for visiting the Daimyo?” 

Fugaku sits up straighter. 

“The Daimyo?” 

“Our team was summoned to visit him.” 

Fugaku stands. “Come.” 

He strides past us and goes inside, even Mom trailing in our wake at his flurry of movement. We follow him into the sitting room where both boys are still playing or napping. Fugaku scoops up Sasuke and Rock, tucking them under his arms easily. Like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Me and Itachi share a startled glance, but Mom doesn’t even blink, simply grabbing our to-go bag filled with Rock’s things. 

“Where are we going?” I ask. 

Fugaku grunts. “The tailor.” 

Oh. 

The Uchiha tailor takes one look at the clan head, the clan heir, and several other people entering his store and drops everything he’s holding. 

It’s a flurry of questions amidst measurements and bolts of fabric. Somewhere in the middle of how many days are you staying to what color were you wearing when he saw you last and hold still, miss, Sensei shows up looking deeply unimpressed. 

When the tailor whips towards him with a measuring tape and a manic gleam in his eye, he holds up his hands placatingly. “I’m not going with them.” He says. 

That makes both the tailor and Fugaku draw up short. 

“Then who is?” Mom asks, from her place chatting about patterns with the tailor’s assistant. 

Masaru peeks his head over the mountain of fabric he was tasked with holding. “Sarutobi Asuma and Aburame Yoji.” 

That nearly causes the tailor to have a heart attack. “The hokage’s son!” 

His movements get more erratic after that. Fugaku glares at Masaru and he shrugs apologetically in response. 

Sensei pulls me aside while Itachi is being fitted and Masaru is distracted. 

“I found out that the other Jonin assigned to the mission is a Hyuuga. Don’t get any ideas.” He says sternly. I nod reluctantly. 

“I think I’ll be a little too busy to stir up trouble.” I mutter. 

He just stares, unamused. 

“Yeah yeah, alright. No causing chaos amongst one of the major clans in the village, got it.” 

Satisfied, he nods, and proceeds to give all three of us a list of things to pack like we’re still fresh genin going on our first mission. 

Aw, he really is worried about us. 

I look when the tailor calls me for my turn and by the time I glance back Sensei has disappeared, chased off by the prospect of watching me get poked and prodded in the name of fashion. Lucky man.

It’s while I’m drowning in piles and piles of silk that I share a panicked glance with my mom. Fugaku, catching our wide eyed stares, hurries to ensure that he’d be paying for all of us. 

Later, once we’ve finished at the tailors and reconvened at Itachi’s house, and after Mikoto spent a solid half hour going over every outfit, we sit in the dining room and go over what we need to know about visiting the capitol.

“You’ll need a gift.” Mikoto announces bluntly. 

All three of us grimace. “Yeah, but what do you get the man who has everything?” I ask.

“Playing cards.” Mom says distractedly, pulling Rock into her lap. 

When all of us turn to look at her in shock, she tilts her head in a clear question. 

“We’re talking about the current Fire Daimyo, correct? He used to sneak out to gambling dens when he was younger, everyone knows that.” 

Clearly, everyone does not know that, if Mikoto and Fugaku’s expressions are anything to go by. 

“Like poker cards?” I blurt out.

“Pokaa? What’s that? I was thinking of hanafuda.” 

I flounder for a second. “Uh, it’s a game played with a deck of 52 cards… each has the same patterned back on one side and different numbers and suits on the other.”

Mikoto frowns. “Is it foreign?” 

“… maybe?” 

I resolutely ignore Itachi and Masaru sharing loaded glances. 

Mom claps her hands, delighted. “Oh, yes, then let's give him pokaa cards! Where can we buy some?” 

I panic even more. Yes, let’s just buy the cards that apparently don’t exist. “Let’s make them!” I blurt out.

Surprisingly, Masaru nods enthusiastically. “I can provide cardstock.” 

Itachi glances at his parents and nods, too. “Our clan has plenty of artisans that can help with any inking and painting.” 

They turn to look at me. “I can… write the rules and provide an example deck.” 

Fugaku nods and the conversation moves on.

What the fuck. That was way too easy. 

Right?

—

We spend the entire next day making our set of cards. Well, technically two. A practice deck, and the real one we would be giving away.

The boys watch as I carefully sketch out the face cards and some of the lower value ones. With a frown, I think about what would be more appropriate to use in a non-European culture instead of a jack. Minister? General? 

Putting that aside for now, I write out a list of every suit and card, before going on to write out the rules of blackjack and poker. 

“We gonna talk about how Masaru is going to get us all that card stock?“ I ask.

“Dad’s in the paper business. He was training me to take it over as a kid. I suppose I enjoyed it, he had to practically drag me to the Academy to sign up. I didn’t want to become a ninja at first- I think he was surprised when I wanted to keep with my shinobi career after graduation after all," he explains.

It’s an unfortunate reality that even if they fail out or stay genin their whole lives, an Academy education carries a lot of weight even in civilian circles. It’s the simple nature of living in such a military focused society. His dad probably wanted the prestige that comes from Academy education to boost their business. 

“Is he mad you don’t want to take it over anymore?” I ask. 

Masaru shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve got a cousin who can have it.” 

“Are we going to talk about this foreign game no one else has heard of?” Itachi suddenly interrupts, mirroring my earlier question. 

“No,” I reply, mulishly. 

The conversation dies there (okay, maybe I bludgeon it to death with my bare hands at the first hint of questions). The shape of my secret fills the silence between us. I know that there will come a day when “trust me” is no longer enough. But today is not that day. Stubborn, I keep my mouth shut.

We work on our project without speaking. 

Once my part is done, Masaru pulls through with the quality paper, and Itachi brings our designs to the home of an Uchiha artist. The elderly lady has remarkably steady hands as she copies out a beautiful patterned design over and over again. 

She waves us off as we hover, sniping that it’ll take her the rest of the day and most of tomorrow to finish. 

Booted unceremoniously onto the street, we blink at each other. 

“Spar?” I ask.

“Spar.” They echo, and I know that they forgive me for everything I can’t, won’t, say.

—

The next day is much less awkward, and before I know it we’re leaving the village gates behind Asuma and Yoji Aburame the following morning. 

Thankfully, our group avoids the main roads that we took on our previous mission heading the same way. I don’t think I could have handled walking past my own blood still staining the earth a rusty brown- even if it was long gone due to the elements, it would always be there in my mind's eye.

Obito quite possibly ruined any sense of security I felt… well, anywhere. But after a morning of jumping at shadows, I force myself to calm down. 

There’s a difference between paranoia and a healthy vigilance. 

I refuse to give him more than he’s already taken from me. 

Asuma as a team lead is… fine, I suppose. It’s clear he wants nothing to do with watching a bunch of young genin, which is ironic considering he’s still a teenager himself. I’m like 40% sure he doesn’t even remember our names. But he’s a competent and steady presence at our backs while we run towards the same place that we nearly died going to just a few weeks ago. That does a lot to settle my nerves.

It’s Yoji Aburame that’s the problem. 

Nominally silent, which would be fine , if it weren’t for the staring. 

Every conversation feels like it’s being dissected under the scrutiny of those blackout lenses. At first I worry that I’m just freaking out about the bugs, but while I find them distasteful, I’m not afraid to be around them or rude to him about it. 

It really is just the staring. Even though I shouldn’t be able to tell because of his sunglasses, some hindbrain part of me knows that he has been staring the entire time. 

The hair on the back of my neck has been standing for several miles now. Which doesn’t help my paranoia. Flicking my hand towards Masaru, he thankfully casually moves between me and the other boy. 

Thank god.

—

Asuma leans against a tree and lights up a cigarette. 

After three days of intense training followed by a long day traveling with a group of brats, he could use the nicotine. 

Speaking of brats…

He takes a long drag and watches them set up camp. 

For genin, they’re not bad. Quick, efficient movements punctuated only by moments of lighthearted teasing. At least, on the part of the trio. The Aburame simply set up his tent and disappeared to check the perimeter.

He’s reluctantly impressed. When he was a genin, his team spent way too much time trading sharp insults and fighting each other to get much of anything done, let alone with efficiency.

Once they’re all settled in, he watches the girl pull out a deck of cards and with a deft hand begin to shuffle them. He meanders over to watch their game. 

The girl deals out several strange cards and the boys carefully peer at them. 

The middle of their play area has two cards, one with a 4 and one with a 7. 

“Masaru? Hit or stand?”

The eldest hesitates, looking at his 8 and 9 cards. “Hit?”

She draws a 7. “Bust.” 

It takes a couple rounds before he picks up the rules. 

“Never seen this before.” He says. “Game of probability, eh?”

“Yep,” the girl says. “And risk.” 

“Your Sensei teach you this game?” He asks, frowning at the foreign cards. 

“Nah, I’m never playing blackjack with Sensei ever. He’d figure out the trick to counting cards in two rounds and we’d never win again.” 

Asuma snorts. “Nara?”

All three kids nod gravely. “Nara.”

“You ever play shogi, kid?”

“No.”

Asuma almost chokes on his cigarette. “You have a Nara for a sensei and you’ve never played shogi?” 

She shrugs, flippant. “He said he doesn’t want us learning bad habits.” 

Asuma squints at the kid. That sounds remarkably like… “Let me guess. Nara Ensui?” 

She perks up, delighted. “Yup! You know him?” 

Asuma leans back at her sheer enthusiasm, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve heard Shikaku complain about his cousin who despises shogi, yes.” 

“Then you know that he thinks it leads to linear strategizing and lazy thinking.” The Uchiha cuts in, earrings swaying as he tilts his head. Glasses kid nods along.

Asuma wants to strangle them. “Hey now… I happen to be a fan of shogi. It’s hardly a lazy mental exercise. You can tell a lot about how someone strategizes by their gameplay.” 

“Yeah, but real-life people don’t react to things like a silver general facing a bishop.” She argues.

“Plus, when are you ever gonna sit down and play a game with the person trying to kill you?” Glasses kid adds, snorting.

The girl waves to bring his attention back to her. “Exactly! Trying to base tactical maneuvers on shogi moves is stupid . Human thought, our free will and impulsiveness, it can’t be summed up by a couple of game pieces or some memorized strategy,” 

Asuma scoffs.

Undeterred, she cups her palms and gestures like she’s encompassing something, “Humans are weird and contrary and have the capacity for great feats of self sacrifice or terrible cowardice. Our motivations aren’t bound to simply taking out the enemies pieces. Life’s not a one-to-one equivalent to some strategy game.” 

“Who ever said it was?” 

“You did, when you called the Daimyo the king.” 

“Well, he’s who I’m going to go protect, isn’t it?” He drawls, with all the self-assurance of someone saying checkmate.

The kid stops and stares at him for a couple seconds. Asuma relishes the silence while it lasts. 

“Why are you a shinobi, Asuma-san?”

What kind of question is that? “My father is the hokage, you know.” 

She shakes her head, somehow looking disappointed in him despite being half his age. 

Even the little Uchiha is giving him a side-eye. As if the heir to a major clan whose shinobi career was born entirely out of familial expectations has any room to talk.

“Fine! Fine. I don’t know.” He admits eventually.

She speaks then, voice dropping into a different cadence, the rhythm of someone quoting something even if he doesn’t recognize the source, “if you stand for nothing,” she pauses, “what will you fall for?” 

He’s reminded, unbidden, of a conversation he had with his father when he was 14. Frustrated, he stubs out his cigarette and stalks to the other side of their camp, not without a final parting shot over his shoulder, “This conversation is over.” 

Aburame is staring at him from the tree line when he looks over and Asuma has to hold back a scowl. 

Fuckin’ brats.

—

The trip to the capital is far slower and far noisier than Yoji is familiar with. His primary target acts more in line of what one expects from a shinobi, but his secondary target is as… excitable as she always has been for months. His first week of reconnaissance, Yoji found her attitude… grating. 

Now, it simply reminds him of Hana. 

Hana… used to be simply known as the tertiary subject , due to her affiliation with the primary and secondary target. He wonders when that changed. 

When she went from source of information to… Hana.

Yoji even spent the entire journey to the capital studying Inuzuka Hana's best friend, the secondary subject, to see what makes them so similar. Bright personas?

He digresses.

Protocol dictates that he submit himself for reconditioning at the first sign of becoming compromised. 

Yoji has not been following protocol for a while now. 

It’s becoming more and more apparent that he’s losing his edge on this long term reconnaissance mission. Case in point- taking the Guardian exams was supposed to be nothing more than his cover for being assigned to the mission. 

Then why is he… enjoying it?

There’s an undercurrent of tension between the applicants, but that is nothing new to Yoji. He’s used to hostile interactions. But there’s an almost collaborative edge to the competitiveness between them all. A sense of pride, of a shared goal, camaraderie. 

His fellow applicants from Konoha itself, Sarutobi Asuma and Hyuuga Hoheto had shaken hands before giving Yoji a once-over. 

“Let’s all try our best, alright? I won’t go easy on you two, but us village boys should look out for each other.” Sarutobi had said. The Hyuuga nodded, before offering a small, terse smile. 

Yoji didn’t know how to handle that. How to handle sportsmanship when all he knows is a desperate struggle to survive, to win. Of backstabbing and struggling in the dark. 

The atmosphere is so foreign from what he’s gotten used to in Root that it took him almost an entire day to tease out the shape of it. 

It reminds him of quiet evenings training Hana and Itsuo, of being dragged to some restaurant to eat foods he hasn’t tasted since he was small and young and his dad was still alive. 

He could always split his life into befores and afters. 

Before and after his dad tried to kill him.

Before and after Root. 

Danzo-sama would call him weak for thinking it, but Yoji is… disappointed that he has to throw these exams and go back to Konoha at the end of this. The only place he feels half as welcome is with a girl he originally saw as nothing more than an unwitting informant to be used. 

But maybe… 

Maybe he can start a new delineation. Before meeting Hana and after.

Maybe.

Yoji’s colony flares in warning and he dodges one of the proctors as they leap at him in a flying kick. 

“Applicant 29! Are you paying attention?” 

Back to work. 

—

Itachi pulls on the richly layered silk, smoothing his hands over where it wraps across his chest. He’s the heir to a noble clan, so he’s no stranger to finery. But this is a step above what even he has ever worn before. Even their mission guarding the Daimyo didn’t warrant such preparation, but he supposes that this is responding to a formal summons rather than a mission.

They’re about to head to the main part of the palace to finally meet with the Daimyo. After meeting up with the other Jonin and being forced to wait in their rooms until the Guardian Trials finished, they’re finally doing what they came for. 

The other members of their group, including the stern Hyuuga who had met them at the gates as they entered the city, will wait in their shared rooms while they talk with the most powerful civilian man in the country.

Masaru sighs as soon as they step out of the room. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he mutters, tugging on his collar. Itachi silently agrees. 

He eyes Brick and winces at the even heavier layers she’s wearing. Men’s outfits can usually get away with two, but she’s swamped in at least four. 

It’s a gorgeous outfit, a soft pale pink blending downwards into a deeper maroon, with green shoots of new bamboo, beautiful white cranes, and sweeping gray mountains. While traditionally masculine designs, she had flatly refused the subtle floral patterns that the tailor tried to offer. 

The thing is, Brick’s confidence in herself and her unwillingness to bow to societal pressures is what he respects the most about her. 

That confidence is currently gone. No matter how pretty the outfit is, Itachi can’t wait until this is over and he gets his teammate back. 

They approach the massive doors of the meeting room, and pause in front of the guards. 

Itachi steps forward. “Brick Lee, Saito Masaru, and Uchiha Itachi of Konohagakure.”

The doors open, and he shares one last look with his team before they step inside the lions den. 

—

Opulent, obscene, and gaudy displays of wealth cover the entire room, including its inhabitants. The man of the hour reclines against his chair, talking in low tones to another man standing at the right of his chair. On our bodyguarding mission, I didn’t pay much attention to the man beyond what was necessary to keep him safe. He was a minor inconvenience that we needed to get from point A to point B. 

Like a package marked “fragile”, we had to sooth his royal ego and sensibilities to slowly cart him across the country in the most obvious and marked procession, and quite frankly almost died for it. 

Now, in this room, he seems larger than life , commanding attention in a thoughtless, instinctual manner.

We kneel, and he finishes his conversation after a minute or two and considers us with a heavy gaze. 

Itachi pulls our gift from his robes, laying the package of cards flat in his palm. The aide collects the gift silently and presents it to the man. 

“Rise.” 

We stand. Even in layers and layers of material, all three of us make the motion smooth, languid, and synchronized as a team. He nods appreciatively. 

“What am I holding?” He asks. 

“That is a deck of playing cards of our own invention,” I speak up. “I have included instructions on two games that can be played with them, as well as the offer to give lessons on how to play them.” 

The Daimyo pulls out the new set of cards, running an appreciative thumb over the sleek painted surface of an ace. Then, he laughs.

“I will never cease being surprised by what shinobi manage to find out. Ha! I would like to learn these games. You will show Sato how to play at a later date,” he decides, setting the bulk of the cards aside and keeping a couple in his hands. “Now, onto business.” 

We straighten our spines. 

“Since I was a teenager, I have been escorted across Konoha by trained men and women who far outpace you in terms of skill and experience.” 

Ouch.

“And for years I have allowed the genin team of the year to escort my annual trip. This is the first year that a disaster of such magnitude has been allowed to happen.” 

Double ouch. 

“ But,” he pauses, “it is also the first year where said genin have been called to step in and actually perform their duty against what your superiors have told me is an S-ranked threat.”

The first time? I share a lightning quick glance with my boys. 

“I have spoken on the matter at length with the captain of my guard and the Guardians who were stationed here at the capital. The three of you held off that man for long enough that reinforcements could arrive. You did what trained adults failed to. I have been informed of the magnitude of this achievement, and had it stressed how close I was to dying that day. For this, I am extending a formal reward as recompense.” 

Itachi bows his head, and demurs, “it was our duty as shinobi.” 

The Daimyo nods. “It was. But it was also far beyond what was expected from you.” He holds up a hand, “not of you. I expect shinobi to be willing to die for their duty, no matter their age. But from you. I am informed that most genin would have died within seconds.” 

The advisor at his side murmurs something to him and the Daimyo sits up straight. 

“I have matters to attend to, so let’s make this quick. I will grant you each one boon. Tell me what you want.”

Caught off guard, I shoot Itachi and Masaru a panicked flare of chakra before stifling the reaction. 

A boon? What does that even mean?

Without much delay, Masaru steps forward.

“My father is in the paper industry. That is his product that those cards are made out of. If you go on to mass produce these cards, please consider ordering through him.” He proposes calmly. 

The Daimyo hums and rubs a card between his fingers. 

I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he just pulled that out of his ass, and how he sounded so eloquent doing it.  

“Agreed. Next.”

I flounder for a second, before remembering that I’m speaking to one of the richest men on the continent. 

“My mother has a congenital disease, with expensive treatments…” I trail off, unsure if this is rude and deciding to just go with it anyways. “If you would forgive our medical debts and perhaps pay for future ones, it would be a burden lifted from my family.” 

Thankfully, he doesn’t look offended or surprised, simply waving a hand and nodding. “Yes, yes, it will be taken care of.” 

All eyes turn to Itachi. 

“The Uchiha would sponsor the Lee family’s bid for clanship.” Itachi says simply. 

What?

He steps forward, pulling a scroll from his sleeve. I nearly do a double take- how long has he had that? “The Lee clan would pledge service to the Uchiha and through us, the Land of Fire. As vassals to a noble clan, they would in return gain protection and status as afforded to them.” 

What?

The Daimyo spends a long moment glancing over the contents of the scroll, face impassive. The advisor bends to whisper in his ear and I feel sweat drip down my back when he fixes his gaze on me. 

It’s a long tense moment before he waves off the advisor with a lazy flap of his hand and signs the parchment.

“It will be so. Sato, handle the rest of the paperwork.” Before I can sigh in relief, or embarrass myself somehow, he fixes us with a piercing look and I freeze. “Not many would indulge the whims of three children. But I believe that investments must begin somewhere- you will either prove fruitful in the future, or not.” He pauses, a wry twist to his lips, “And I am clearly a gambling man. See to it that I am not disappointed.” 

“Yes, my lord.” We say in unison, dropping into a deep bow. 

“Dismissed.” 

The minute we make it outside the chamber, my legs give out. The show always made the Daimyo out to be kind of an idiot, and my opinions of him were pretty low on our mission, but alone in a room at the seat of his power, the man’s gaze carried weight. We were in his sphere of influence now, one of power and politics, not the world of impossible stunts and crazy jutsu that lies outside the palace walls. 

“Did that seriously just happen?” I whisper. 

Masaru and Itachi scramble to pull me up and I let them. 

“What was on that scroll?” I ask. 

Itachi sheepishly looks away. 

“Itachi?!” 

“… congratulations?” 

“ What did you do?” 

“Just made you a clan head?” 

My legs give out again. 

Once they manage to drag me to where Asuma, Hoheto, and Yoji are waiting, Itachi scrambles to explain. 

“Technically, you’re the eldest shinobi in your family?” He says, cheeks pink, voice lilting up. “If your brother were to ever pass you in rank he could theoretically contest you for the position.” 

Asuma sits up so fast it looks painful. 

“What did you three just do?”

Yoji looks intrigued as well, if the way he subtly shifts closer is any indication. 

“Secured a great deal for my father’s business.” Masaru shrugs. 

“Got my mother’s medical debts paid off.” I reply absently, staring at the wall, seeing nothing. How did this change things? What could I do with this?

“… added a new seat to the high council.” Itachi mumbles. 

I bluescreen for the third time in a matter of minutes. Asuma begins choking on his cigarette. 

“ The high council? “ I shriek. Yoji winces at my volume and I shoot him an apologetic grimace before whirling back on my teammate. 

“Yes? The Lee family is a vassal clan now.”

“What does that mean?”

Shockingly, it’s the Aburame that responds. “The Uchiha are one of the four noble clans of Konoha, therefore any vassal clan automatically gets a seat on the high council. You can find the agreement in the village records… It’s simply the first time the Uchiha have exercised this right.” 

Hoheto stands up, “Let me make sure I’m following along correctly. You three just negotiated the formation of a new clan in Konoha? And it worked?”  

Masaru frowns. “Hey, I had nothing to do with this.” 

“There hasn’t been a new seat on the council in… I don’t know how long…” he trails off. 

We all pause at the knock on the door. 

“Come in.” Asuma calls. 

The Daimyo’s aide, Sato, smoothly enters carrying several scrolls of parchment. He walks over to the low table and begins setting up.

“If you would.” He says. It is not a question. 

Itachi, Masaru, and I exchange glances before making our way to the table. Asuma and Hoheto start up a low conversation, but they’re shinobi. They’re clearly paying attention. 

“Uchiha-san, if you would sign here…” Sato says, pointing to a part of the scroll. 

“… this is the portion for the playing card contract. What volume of card stock will his business be able to supply annually? Good. Clause 2B will need your father’s signature then…” 

“… you will have one month to supply the required materials so that we can update our records…”

And on it goes for almost an hour. 

Is this what being a clan head will entail? Approving minutiae? Bowing to the whims of the Daimyo? Forever? As much as I dabble in it, I don’t actually enjoy politics!

As soon as he’s gone I turn to Itachi and calmly put my hands on his shoulders. 

“Itachi.”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He flinches at those words but I soldier on anyways, “I’m very grateful, and now I can push for the commercial district, and maybe help Yasushi set up a veteran’s association, and so much more.”

“But…?”

“But this means I will have to go to village meetings as the head of my THREE PERSON CLAN !” I punctuate my statement by shaking his shoulders vigorously. His earrings rattle and chime musically with the motion. 

“Sorry?”

A wordless scream escapes me.

It takes several minutes for the room to approach anything resembling calm. Asuma has been staring into the middle distance for half of them.

Suddenly, I freeze as a thought comes to me. Everyone pauses and goes quiet like they’re approaching a startled animal when I swear violently.

“Brick?”

“Sensei is going to be so mad.” I moan, dropping my head into my hands.

Masaru pats my arm.

Chapter Text

The trip back to Konoha is somehow both incredibly awkward and much more relaxed. Awkward in that outside of my teammates, everyone is not-so-subtly staring at Itachi’s pack, which contains the huge piles of paperwork and official documents from the daimyo’s aide. 

More relaxed in that the three Guardian candidates are a lot more comfortable in each other’s presence. When we approach an inn to stay the night, Hyuuga Hoheto works seamlessly with Asuma to methodically check the room before arranging a watch rotation with Yoji. Overall their movements seem a bit more in tune than before.

It’s one thing to know that the Academy drills its students on forms and procedures that encourage the ability to easily slip into teamwork with anyone else in Konoha. It’s another thing to see that in action. 

One exam together and they’re already much more cohesive as a unit than before. 

I wonder if that speaks to Konoha’s teamwork as a whole, or to those three in particular. 

My musings are cut short when Itachi quietly sits next to me on the bed. I shoot him a questioning look, and his dark eyes roam my face before glancing away, towards his pack.

“Are you mad at me?” 

I stare at him blankly. Behind him, Masaru notices my expression and slaps a hand to his forehead with an audible thwap.

When I continue to say nothing, Masaru pulls an exaggerated face and mimes talking with his hands.

“… no?” I tentatively reply. 

The small crease between Itachi’s eyes smooths out, and he smiles, small but fond. Masaru shoots me a thumbs up. 

I grin back, and pat Itachi on the knee. “Next time, just give me some warning please?” 

“Of course.”

“Now,” I huff, falling back on the bed dramatically. “You’ve been training under your father, right? What can you tell me about running a clan? Actually- Masaru, get over here, I’m sure what you learned about the paper business couldn’t hurt.”

“Well…” Itachi begins, and I settle in for a long lesson. 

—

After signing in at the front gates, Asuma waves us over along with Yoji to let us know that our debrief would be in a couple hours, just enough time to go put our packs away and change out of our mission clothes. Maybe squeeze in a bite to eat.

His dry tone lets us know just how lucky we are, as the two jounin would be reporting right away as the ones in charge of the trip. 

Yoji disappears almost as soon as the man says “go ahead”.

Immediately we decide to invade Sensei’s place, since he’s closest to the tower and Mr. Boyfriend always keeps the kitchen stocked with the best snacks. 

I wonder absently if there’s a reason Sensei doesn’t live on the Nara clan grounds, why he seems to be in a normal apartment with his boyfriend, but unless he tells me himself I’ll never ask. 

We quickly begin making our way across the village, taking advantage of the early hour and the relatively empty streets.

For a brief moment, the weight of the situation hits me once again and I feel unmoored, like my life is spiraling outside of my control. A clan! My fingers itch to go flip through my hidden journals, to reassure myself with my carefully cobbled together timeline. 

Instead I shake my head like an Inuzuka ninken and refocus on my surroundings. Everything would be okay, because I would make it okay. 

We make it to Sensei’s in record time, and let ourselves in after Itachi gently flares his chakra in a practiced greeting. Very important after the last time we accidentally interrupted… date night… and saw something we never wanted to see. 

Thankfully Sensei is home (and fully clothed), just sitting at his kitchen table and gripping a mug of tea like his life depends on it. 

“Is there something you need to tell me?” 

Three slow nods.

“Is it urgent?” he asks first, then steamrolls on without giving us a chance to answer. “Did you start an international incident? Stab someone you weren’t supposed to and fail to get away with it?”

At our expressions, he closes his eyes briefly as if to steady himself and then slowly sets down the mug. 

“Okay. I’m ready now. Tell me.” 

Me and Itachi immediately crane our heads around to look up at Masaru. The older boy kicks the back of my ankle lightly but thankfully launches into a mission summary, only faltering once he gets to the three gifts from the Daimyo. 

“I asked for continued business regarding the playing cards, Brick got her family’s medical debts taken care of and Itachi…” he trails off. 

Itachi picks up the conversational thread with a question: “Sensei, how many seats are on the clan council?” 

Ensui doesn’t answer for a moment, as if trying to spot the trick. “12. 13 if you include the Hokage. 14 if you count Hatake, who apparently never shows up.” 

“Well, now there are not. 14, that is.” 

And he fails to elaborate, despite Sensei’s increasingly panicked expression. I swear Itachi does it on purpose, there’s no way he’s that deaf to how badly that sounds. He has to be hiding a sadistic streak that rivals his most infamous ancestor, Madara, with the way he blunders straight through conversations in the perfect way to ensure maximum confusion. 

“Did. Did you get the Uchiha clan dissolved? What did you do?”  

“You misunderstand, Sensei. There are now 15 seats.” And he smiles like an angel. 

Yeah, definitely on purpose.

If I had a camera I would capture this moment in a heartbeat. The framing of Itachi’s cherubic smile, Sensei’s baffled expression, and Masaru’s deadpan stare are practically Renaissance in nature. 

Suddenly, Sensei puts the pieces together and turns to glare at me. “I told you not to make trouble. I seem to remember you saying you won’t cause, and I quote, ‘ chaos amongst one of the major clans in the village,’ let alone all of them!” 

“Hey!” I shout, indignant. “Blame Itachi, not me!”

It takes a long recounting of our visit and a quick crash course on vassalage, Konoha’s founding agreements, and clan laws before Sensei calms down. 

By then it’s nearly time to go, so we all cram snacks in our mouths and begin heading out the door, leaving Sensei behind to sit with his head in his hands, probably mourning his relatively uncomplicated existence before he got a genin team or something equally dramatic. 

Honestly. How bad could three genin be?

—

“They WHAT?” 

Yoji flinches. 

“How could you let this happen?” Danzo-sama seethes. 

Yoji quietly thinks that’s a little unfair . He didn’t let anybody do anything. That implies a modicum of control over what the Daimyo does. For a moment he considers saying so, but Yoji pauses at the anger his lord holds in his eyes, a deep rage unfurling like a terrible storm. His hive flutters silently in response to the charged tension in the air.

He stays silent.

—

One foot into the Hokage’s office and it’s immediately obvious that Sarutobi Hiruzen already knows the gist of what happened with the Daimyo and is barely holding himself back from chain smoking at the implications of it. 

“Clan head, hmm?” He says, clearly not actually expecting a response. I nod anyway.

Koharu, Mitokado, and Danzo filter one by one inside the office, followed by Yoji who shadows Danzo’s steps carefully. Interesting. Koharu and Mitokado seem resigned to a standard meeting, unprepared for the chaos to come, but Danzo might as well have steam coming out of his ears. He knows already and is so fucking mad. The clack clack of his cane sounds a little too forceful. Suddenly I’m slightly terrified. If I didn’t think Koharu would instantly tear him apart for it, I’d genuinely be afraid of being smothered in my sleep tonight. 

While Hyuuga Hoheto stands respectfully at attention, Asuma stays leaning against the far wall. All three of us on team Ensui bow to the elders, but I make sure my body is angled at Koharu alone. If anyone notices the slight, no one mentions it. 

“Please repeat your report for the council.” Hiruzen commands, nodding at Hoheto. 

The jonin nods and launches into a succinct version of events, from the other contestants to the type of things they were asked as part of the exam. Finally he ends with the current estimates of the palace’s guards, servants, and their capabilities. 

“Asuma.” 

Asuma details their trip to the Capital, the visiting dignitaries he noticed, and the standard prices of certain goods and services. Things I never even noticed he was paying attention to.

Finally all eyes turn to us. 

Masaru, god bless his soul, steps up and begins the process of describing our meeting once more. Guess telling Sensei counted as a bit of a practice run. I notice his hand tremble under the weight of Danzo’s glare and sway slightly to brush my arm against his. He steadies.

He gets to the part about our “gifts” and Koharu breaks into the evilest grin I’ve ever seen. God I love her.

While the Hokage can’t exactly tell us genin off for any deals made between his shinobi and the Daimyo, that would be implying the man made a mistake, he can shoot the only adults on the mission the blandest expression possible for letting it happen on their watch. 

It’s not so much as the thought of someone so young gaining clan head status that’s the issue, I know, but more so the sheer amount of paperwork in the future and the soon-to-be changes in the political landscape of the village. For Hiruzen it’s probably just the paperwork. For Danzo… it’s definitely politics. 

Hiruzen turns to look at his son in what can only be baffled disappointment and Asuma throws his hands up in the air as if to say “it wasn’t me”. He looks incredibly annoyed at the accusation, too. I’m 100% sure that if Asuma doesn’t pass the Guardian trials then he’s just going to find some other excuse to leave the village as soon as possible. If he stays longer than 2 months I’ll eat my bright green shorts. That’s the mulish expression of a teenager who’s thinking incredibly uncharitable thoughts about his parent’s critical thinking skills. 

Hiruzen sighs. “Get out of here, all of you. Uchiha, Lee, you have two weeks to get things in order before I expect the required paperwork to be in place. Dismissed.”

Danzo storms out of the office first, Yoji and Asuma close on his heels. Koharu winks. 

—

Mikoto is halfway to the grocer on the edge of the clan district when she passes the house where young Obito used to live with his grandmother. Even though the property has long since changed hands, now home to a young family, it still elicits a bittersweet reaction in her whenever she sees it.

With an internal wince she remembers how the clan as a whole treated the young boy. How she herself regarded him. She just used to get so annoyed with his antics. 

Back then they were the young relatively untested leaders of the clan. Fugaku, and thus Mikoto herself, were judged so harshly by their elders, placed under so much scrutiny to corral the clan into shape that they nearly collapsed under the weight of it. She’s not proud to say she sometimes took that frustration out on the black sheep of the family, if only through curt tones and dismissive attitudes. 

She actually randomly catches herself missing the brightness Obito brought to the clan. It’s terrible, she knows, but tragedy and absence really do make the heart grow fonder. 

The mood around the district has been increasingly strained and brittle, fraught with tension. Oh, she had thought to herself once not so long ago, we could all use a little more of Obito’s brand of clumsy cheer.

The clan grounds seem to have found it again in the form of one Brick Lee, and to a lesser extent Saito Masaru. Itachi’s teammates always shatter that grim aura with ease, brightening the faces of her neighbors with silly antics as they cross the compound. Laughter fills her home again. 

This time, she’s resolved to treasure the levity only children can bring to her home while it lasts. 

And like she thought it into existence, she hears young Brick’s voice echoing from a couple streets away. Her son’s genin team has apparently returned once again to the compound in a whirl of noise and color. 

“Suzuka-nee-chan! How did your date go?” She hears Brick exclaim, followed by embarrassed sputtering on the part of the young clansman suddenly ambushed by an exuberant preteen. 

Mikoto rounds the corner to find Brick cheerfully accosting one of the newest members of the MP, her son quietly conversing with Suzuka-chan’s exasperated senior partner. They both look up at her arrival, straightening slightly. 

“Hanzo-san was just filling us in on what happened while we were gone. I guess father won’t be home for a while?” he asks quietly, once she’s close enough. 

Ah, yes. After the catastrophe of the last time foreign shinobi visited, namely the whole ghastly Hyuuga affair this December, Fugaku tended to place the whole police force on high alert whenever large enough groups came to the village. Even nominal allies, like Taki, who were just here for their yearly trade agreement negotiations. In combination with a high-profile murder investigation, Fugaku has been pulling long nights. 

Mikoto hums in assent, and sweeps him towards her original destination, nodding at Hanzo in thanks as she does. 

Brick gives an exaggerated bow to the pair, before catching up with a small giggle. 

“Hey, is my mom at the house? She wasn’t at the apartment and we’ve got some pretty big things to talk about.” 

Mikoto slants a look at the girl but she simply smiles placidly rather than elaborating. 

“Yes, she agreed to watch the boys while I ran some errands.” Mikoto finally responds, carefully. “How did your meeting with the Daimyo go?”

The kids share a glance before her son turns back with a ponderous expression. “Perhaps we should wait until father returns home.” 

“Why?”

He smiles innocently. “Clan business.”

Brick’s smile tightens minutely but doesn’t drop, in fact it grows wider at Mikoto’s suspicious expression. 

… why did she ever look forward to these hellions coming home? 

—

Fugaku arrives home after an exhausting final debrief for the night to find Brick and Itachi leading their younger siblings through a game of hide and seek in the yard. It’s pretty late for the boys to be awake yet, but he knows they were full of energy earlier in the day from riling each other up, and probably too wired to sleep. Getting some of that energy out will only help. 

Nodding in approval, he gestures for them to come inside and receives a Konoha standard ‘ ETA 5 minutes’ in response. 

Smiling despite himself, he shuffles towards the genkan while pondering the kids. It’s not unheard of for clan-raised children to subtly train their younger siblings by slowly increasing the difficulty of the games they play together, building balance, situational skills, and spatial awareness while having fun. It’s just harder and harder to manage on a busy genin’s schedule, and will only get worse and worse as his eldest gains ranks and more responsibilities. Pretty soon it will be increasingly difficult for Itachi to make time for his precious otouto. Though, he supposes that’s just life.

Fugaku makes a mental note to give Brick a rundown on the standard developmental milestones for kids with shinobi parents or siblings, so she can both keep an eye on her brother’s progress and know when to step up his training. And she will train him, he knows her well enough by now to know that. 

He takes a moment to watch as Rock tries to find a hiding place by a bush, the slightest echoes of a cat’s grace to his steps, the same light-foot walk that every Uchiha adopts. Even Brick has picked up on it. Maybe it’s the sharingan, but Fugaku has always been able to tell when someone has spent a long time around certain clan shinobi, whether it be a teacher or teammate or significant other. A ninja’s silent-walking technique often varies very slightly, from how they place their feet to the sway of their hips to the chakra they use. The Uchiha learned from the ninneko, the Hatake and Inuzuka stalk like wolves, and the Sarutobi often have the lightest feet of all when they’re moving through the trees. 

Brick herself has picked up a mix of an Uchiha’s cat-like grace and the deliberate and even-footed gait of a deer. The Nara’s influence, no doubt. He used to make a game of guessing generations of someone’s team lineage by watching their mannerisms.

Gods-above, his mind is drifting far more than usual, mental exhaustion leaving his head to meander its way from thought to thought. It was a very long day today. He heads inside, the kids not too far behind.

“We- we ah- we’re a clan now!” Brick blurts out as soon as they’re all sitting down. Just blurts it out like she’s been dying to say it for hours. Mikoto tenses on his left and he hears Hina emit a small squeak on his right. 

“What does that mean?” Fugaku hisses before his brain can catch up to his mouth.

“Say hello to the Uchiha’s very own vassal clan.” Itachi says, gesturing at the Lee family.

That didn’t tell me anything at all!

It takes a silent staring contest and two inconclusive games of rock paper scissors before Fugaku tells them to just get on with it , but Brick and Itachi finally take turns explaining exactly what just happened on their visit to the capital. Fugaku’s day goes from simply trying to straight up exhausting. 

His wife’s eyes widen minutely at the end and oh, oh, she had no idea Itachi was going to do this. That, or she gave him the idea but wasn’t actually expecting him to achieve it this quickly, or maybe not even achieve it at all. He’ll have to ask her privately, later. Fugaku mentally reevaluates his son’s potential- already so bright but now even brighter- and has to hold back a tired but proud smile. Yes, he’s anticipating so many elder-shaped headaches in his near future- but this is ultimately a fantastic development for their clan. Even Fugaku can see that.

If they truly told the Hokage before notifying the clan, then the elders REALLY won’t have a say. It’s already official. If they wanted to prevent this from happening, they would have needed to stop Itachi at the gate. And considering that Fugaku and Mikoto didn’t even find out until now, well, looks like the Uchiha have just gained a vassal clan. Perhaps that’s why his wife didn’t know about this, not fully. Plausible deniability in the face of crotchety, belligerent old men and women who are too caught up in the past that they can’t see the future right in front of them. 

Hina claps slowly, as if unsure of it being the correct response but eager to encourage the kids. Fugaku, and Mikoto too he absently notices, are simply staring into the middle distance.

The implications of everything are slowly hitting him one by one. He supposes Hina is used to her daughter’s chaos by now, but he certainly isn’t.

What a night this has been. What a week this will be! The paperwork and clan meetings he sees in his future alone… 

But then the girl keeps talking, as if more words are going to help distract them from the exploding tag after exploding tag she’s tossing at their feet. Ideas for the playing card contract. Clan housing. A surefire way to get the commercial district approved. 

And then she very gently asks her mom to prepare herself, holds her hand, and tells her how their financial troubles have virtually disappeared. 

Months of stress melts away before their very eyes. Like dawn breaking across the horizon, Fugaku watches as joy and relief light up Hina’s face. 

Oh. Oh.

His ears burn, and Fugaku feels a blush crawling up the back of his neck. He shares a wide-eyed glance with his wife, and knows that she felt something, too, if her burning cheeks are any indication. 

“How did you manage to get three favors from the Daimyo in the first place? I knew your guarding mission ended early with injuries, and that you had to have made an impression to be invited back to the capital, but we never got the full story.” His wife asks, bringing them back to the topic at hand. Her cheeks are still slightly pink.

It’s true- at the time, the party line was simply that the team faced an attack and was forced to let an ANBU team take over the remainder of the mission.

The two pre-teens exchange guilty looks.

Their encounter finally emerges in bits and pieces. Every word drives the happy cheer from the room, the flush from their cheeks. Most of it is glossed over as classified, but Fugaku can read between the lines. He wonders if Hina can, or if she will need an explanation later, if she will even want one. Every word is worse than the last.

From what he understands, he knows why the kids were very particular about how they told the events of that mission to people. About what the village told his elders when they asked about the mission that gave their clan heir his sharingan. Weeks out from the aftermath and a chill still runs down his back at the tale. Hina, who takes cues on the severity of ninja matters from him and his wife, frowns but doesn’t interrupt.

An A to S rank adversary, with a technique they weren’t allowed to disclose the details of. Someone who easily defeated the adults guarding the caravan. The two Guardian’s deaths. Exactly how Masaru hurt his back. Brick’s injury. 

How must his son hate him, for being so proud of his sharingan when that’s what caused it? He feels sick. He wants a drink. He wants to forget this conversation ever happened. Now he knows why Brick gave him such an odd look when he congratulated his son on awakening his dojutsu. 

By the time the kids are long done with their debrief and gone for the night and Mikoto is off putting the paperwork in a secure place, Fugaku has been gratefully enjoying the cup of calming tea that Hina had quietly prepared. Hina, who simply smiled crookedly in understanding once she saw his growing shock, patted his shoulder in commiseration, and went to splash water on her face. 

“Why aren’t you more upset about that mission?” He asks when she returns from the bathroom, much more put together. “I know that you understood enough to know it was bad.”

She pauses, and lowers the towel she was using to dry her face. “Did I ever tell you what Brick said to me when I asked if she was sure about continuing her career after that mission?” 

“No.” He says instantly, certain in the way that someone with photographic memory can afford to be, even weeks later.  

“She said, ‘this is important to me.’ Who am I to stand in the face of that? All I can do is support her. She’s alive. She’s happy. She just managed to haul us out of debt and into clanhood. That’s enough, don’t you think?” 

Enough indeed.

How did he end up with two quietly competent women in his home? How did he end up with a lovely shinobi wife and a soft but steel-backed civilian for a friend? It seems like Hina Lee simply appeared in their lives like a wraith, slowly and steadily becoming a part of their home. Him and Mikoto weren’t looking for anyone to share their time with, he knows this. But now that Hina is here, he can’t imagine their evenings without her. As inexorable as the tide, as impossible for him to ignore as the sun. 

They have some things to discuss, Mikoto and him. They have a plan for their clan to hammer out, elders to placate and distract, and if his wife agrees… a woman to woo.