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Chapter Text

His body was too small and too large and had an uncomfortably large amount of chakra yet so much less than what he was used to and what-

Kakashi awoke with a start, sitting up in his too, too large body, soaked through with blood. There were bodies thrown about the clearing and he was wearing an ANBU mask and he couldn’t breath. Frantically, Kakashi clawed at his mask, tearing off the object from his face. Holding his hands to his throat, he coughed and coughed and he could feel something coming up his throat and with a final heaving cough, he spit out a river of blood.

Kakashi finally breathed in, and that was wrong. He always, ever since he was sixteen and took a sword to the lungs, had a small amount of trouble breathing and yet, as he took another breath, he could breath perfectly fine. It wasn’t right. His body was too tall, yet too slim, and his reserves were so much larger than he ever remembered them being but they were filled so much less than they were when he fell asleep.

As Kakashi looked around, he wondered if maybe he had an ANBU mission and he didn’t remember it. But no, that didn’t make sense. He was forcefully discharged from ANBU last month so he could take on a gennin team . With a last cough to get the last of the blood out of his throat, Kakashi tried to stand on too-tall legs and immediately fell, landing on his face with a sickening splat.

And he didn’t have his cloth mask. That was also wrong. He always wore his mask, even for sleep. It should have been there. Maneuvering himself so that he was laying on his back, he wiped some of the blood off of his face and ew, was that a bit of guts? He could taste blood on his toung, so he spit that out with passion in case that it also contained guts. This was why he wore a mask.

Sighing, he put some of his weight on his left hand so he could take out his ANBU mask. He might as well where it, if only to keep out the awful smells of the massacre around him. Looking at it, he noticed something was off, if only a little bit. It looked… well, newer than he’s ever seen it. There were only about a dozen scuff marks, where last time he had it, there had to be over fifty on there.

Putting it near his face, it seemed to reach out to his chakra. So yes, this was his mask. It was just a little different. With a great sigh, Kakashi tried to stand up, this time being more careful and kneeling before he stood up, and even then, he felt a little shaky. He had to be at least five inches taller, and that didn’t make sense. He was of average height, not too tall, but not short , either. As he stood there, Kakashi didn’t dare take a step, but he did notice that his left leg throbbed horribly even when he tried to keep most of his weight on his right.

That was bad. That meant that his leg was likely broken, but he had to get to Konoha. He was on an ANBU mission. Maybe. He was going to treat it like he was, because that usually made everything more straight-forward. Clamping down on any remaining confusion and emotions, Hound tried to take a step forward, without falling on his face this time.

It was more difficult than he anticipated, his left leg wanting to give out every time he even thought about putting weight on it, and he kept on expecting his legs to be shorter than they actually were. Hound got past that bit fairly quickly, far too used to sudden growth spurts back in his younger years to let this get at him too much. But at twenty three, he thought that he would have been over them.

The possibly broken leg was a problem that likely wouldn’t go away unless he stopped to give it some attention and ANBU Hound was on a mission. He didn’t have time to things like that, not when he had to get back to Konoha and report. When he looked around as he let his leg calm down a little, he saw how most of the bodies there had Kiri masks and attire. All of them besides what looked to be a small team of Konoha ANBU; Crow, Fox, Cat, and Frog.

Carefully, he bent down and grabbed a sealing scroll, sealing their bodies in it.

He must have been sent on a last minute infiltration mission that they had no one else for, and no one really retired from ANBU so they called on him. Hound must have messed up and erased his memories so that the enemy wouldn’t know what information he had got. And there was a squad sent after him. But the fact that Hound escaped with his life was a little but surprising.

That still didn’t explain why he was taller and slimmer and had too much chakra. But it explained some of it, and that was good enough for Hound. But he had to get back to Konoha. When he was home, he could figure out why he had a new body. Maybe he did have a growth spurt? It wasn’t unprecedented for a Hatake to grow late, and they always have been on the taller side.

So Hound set off into the trees, ignoring his leg and ignoring just about everything that was wrong with the situation.

On his way back, Hound noticed several things.

Like how that tree that he just passed was supposed to have thousands of kunai slashes from when Gai came out to this part of the land of fire to train. Or how that forest was supposed to be a clearing. Or how he took a D-rank once to fill up that crater, he knew it was filled so why was it there-

No. Focus on the mission now. Rant about how things aren’t supposed to be that way later.

As Hound finally came into distance of the village, he noticed one more glaring difference. There were only three heads on the Hokage Mountain, what-!?

No, he was on a mission. He could freak out about that later, but for now, he would report to the Hokage about his mission and try to figure out what happened.

Dashing past the guards at the gate, Hound made his way to the Hokage tower. He had no clue what happened, so he started formulating a report in his head even though, usually, the Hokage would ask questions about the mission and the ANBU operative would have to respond accordingly. Hound doubted that he could answer most, if any, of the questions, so he made his own.

Shunshining into the Hokage’s office, Hound knelt and said, “Hokage-sama.”

He heard a muffled gasp from his right, and though he wanted to see what it was, he didn’t dare raise his head until the Hokage acknowledged him.

“Hound.” He heard he Hokage say, “Report.”

Raising his head to look at the Hokage, Hound said, “I do not remember most of what happened on the mission. I assume that I forcefully removed my memories to stop intel from getting into enemy hands-”

“No,” the Hokage said, “You weren’t sent on an infiltration mission. You were sent to take down a team of Kiri-nin that were too close to the border.”

“I don’t have any memories of the getting the mission, either.” Hound said again, “I remember waking up with everyone around me dead, including operatives Crow, Fox, Cat, and Frog. We must have completed the mission.” All of this was said in a monotone voice.

The Hokage looked down on him suspiciously, and Hound guessed that it was deserved. He had no memory of a mission, after all. That practically screamed imposter. “Operative number?” And Hound was glad that it was that, instead of his shinobi registration number because if what he thought had happened was true then-

“9-2-3-6-6-1-7-0, ANBU Hound” He replied. Operative numbers were a random string of eight numbers passed down by the mask, and they were almost impossible to get ahold of unless you were the ANBU giving that number. ANBU hound always had that string, no matter the time.

The Hokage relaxed almost imperceptibly, and the growing tension in the room dissipated. “ANBU Hound,” the Hokage started, “As promised, at the success of your mission, you shall be released from ANBU and integrated back into the regular forces, known as Hatake Sukea.”

And, oh, how could Kakashi forget the namesake of his most used alibi? How could he forget the man that everyone always said that he took after? Kakashi was occupying a dead mans body, and while he supposed that it made things make more sense, it also opened up a whole load of new troubles.

Because now he was Hatake Sukea, younger brother to Hatake Sakumo and the uncle that Kakashi never met.

Chapter Text

Ah, hospitals. Kakashi- wait, no, he was Sukea now. Sukea hated them. With passion. They were the bane of his existence with their itchy smell and their uncomfortable beds and the time that they gave him to his thoughts. His thoughts, at the moment, were decidedly not very pleasant. Because, well, time travel? Was that what happened to him? Or was he inhabiting a dead body? Would the medics see something off and declare him a medical anomaly? 

Sukea had three fractured rips, one absolutely shattered leg, and a deep gash running down his eye. Apparently, he was lucky that he could still see. All that Sukea could see was the irony of it all, how he again had a scar right in the place that he used to.

Honestly, though, the thing that Sukea hated the most about hospitals was the fact that they could keep him away from missions and they would have the right to. Away from missions meant more time for people (read: Gai) to sneak up on him and force him to socialize. 

But it wasn’t everyday that his younger self would attempt to break into his hospital room

“So!?” Young Kakashi finished, “Why are they forcing me to live with you? I’m perfectly fine all on my own!” It was almost like the six-year-old was ranting to himself, barely aware that his future-self-made-uncle was still listening attentively from where his nose was buried in the sheets.

“Well,” Sukea drawled, “I would think it might have something to do with the fact that we’re both Hatake. Family, you know?” Sukea was sure that he sounded absolutely unimpressed, and he was as he sounded. Absolutely unimpressed, but more with the fact that he got thrown into the past than how the Hokage was forcing him to stay with his… nephew? Younger self? Fuck, this was confusing.

“But it’s not fair!” If Kakashi was anyone other six-year-old, Sukea thought that the boy might have stomped his foot, and even then this was getting uncomfortably close to being childish. But Kakashi was Kakashi; he didn’t do things like that.

“Maa,” Sukea said, “I know, I know, the world is unfair, socks are always mismatched, and I will never find my true love. But can I sleep now?”

The gennin (was that right?) in front of him was truly disgruntled now, probably thinking something along the lines of ‘how can my stupid relative be so idiotic’ , but Sukea took joy in confusing people. This was no different.

“Mismatched socks…?” Kakashi muttered under his breath.

Sukea did his best to shrug under the covers, “I thought that we were listing things that were true?” That excuse was bullshit and they both knew it, but though Sukea wasn’t known for all of the things that he used to pull, he would be soon. Mark his words.

“Now, mini-me-” And oh, how true that is, “-I actually need sleep, unlike you. So either go or stay, I honestly don’t care which, but be quiet.” Oh, wait no, that might have been the bad thing to say. If he knew his younger self, which was questionable at best, the brat would try and ‘accidentally’ make as much noise as possible just because Sukea said that.

Lets hope that he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did.

Mini-Kakashi actually allowed Sukea to sleep, which was something that Sukea did not expect, but in it’s place Kakashi started to demand more, not half-assed answers from him the moment that Sukea woke up again. Fun, it was not.

Of course, Sukea wouldn’t give into his demands. What kind of annoying future-uncle-thing would he be if he did? 

“How are you even related to me in the first place?” Sukea’s mini-me seemed to have tired himself out, now slouching back into the hospital chair. Aha! A question that he actually knew the answer to!

“Oh that?” Sukea said, still trying to become one with the bed, “I’m Sakumo’s younger brother, of course!”

Kakashi looked down at his form with something akin to surprise, and Sukea shifted to reveal his face, which he assumed was fairly similar to his original one, even if his feet still hung off the bed. Wait- a predicament had just arose: should he pretend that he didn’t know about Sakumo’s death? Likely, because no one really told him and Kakashi still wore his gennin outfit when he knew he made chunnin a week after Sakumo’s death.

“You…” Young-Kakashi started, in a slightly shaky monotone, “You do know that- he died.”

And ah, there it was. The conformation that he wouldn’t be able to save his father, not in this life or the last.

Sukea smiled a sad, sad smile, “I had my suspicions. So, you’re my nephew?” He laughed slightly, “I didn’t even know I had one…” and as Sukea stared off wistfully out the window, he realized that he would be living with his younger self. That… that would be difficult. He could barely take care of a ten-year-old Uchiha prodigy, let alone a six-year-old Hatake prodigy. But Sukea had a resolve to make sure that the kid never turned out like him, ever. They would be different, and Kakashi would be happy where Sukea would not.

He could save Obito. He could save Rin. He could save Sensei and he could make everything better for his village.

“Maa, I just realized that I never told you my name,” Sukea sat up slightly, careful not to jostle his leg too much, and said with a small finger-salute, “My name is Hatake Sukea, at your service.”

Kakashi was clearly in a confused sort of head-space, but still, he replied in kind, “I’m Hatake Kakashi.”

Chapter Text

Getting released from the hospital was an ordeal in of itself, with paperwork and promises to stay off of his still very tender leg, and sulking mini-Kakashi’s. Thank Kami he got out of there; a week and he was already going stir-crazy.

Walking through the streets was uncomfortable, as he was mask-less and everyone knew his face. They stared and glared and it was almost like being six again. Well, the six-year-old version of his was walking right beside him, so he supposed that it made sense. 

Leaning very heavily on his crutches, Sukea looked over at the apartment door that he hadn’t seen since he blew it up with a sealing mishap. Kakashi had already opened the door and Sukea was clearly expected to go inside as well, even if he didn’t want to. It would force him to truly confront what had happened to him. Time travel.

Acting like he wasn’t having an internal break down, Kakashi stepped through the door and was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The apartment was empty of everything besides a small table and a mat, not all that different than how it was when he burned the building down. Sukea decided that he needed to spruce it up, if only because keeping it like it was would spell disaster for his mental health.

Looking at Kakashi- himself, and oh, wasn’t that a mind-bender- one last time, Sukea walked over to the bedroom where he was almost certain that there was a futon, and lied down because even if he was so energetic that he felt like he could bounce off of the walls he needed to think and laying down was the best place to do that.

Laying his hand on his chest, Sukea hear it beat and beat and beat and remembered how it wasn’t supposed to. Sukea was supposed to have died, and yet he was alive. Kakashi was inhabiting a dead mans body. There were two Kakashi’s running around when at worst there was only ever supposed to be one. He was seventeen years in the past and he didn’t even know why!

Just as his thoughts were starting to spiral, he remembered that genjutsu were a thing. And then immediately ruled out that possibility because a genjutsu could never take away his sharingan, and why would anybody even genjutsu him to the past? Oh Kami he was in the past-

Obito was alive. Sensei was alive. Rin was alive. He had a second chance. He couldn’t screw up, but he knew he would because he was Kakashi and Kakashi always screwed up. Except for the one in your care, his mind whispered, he’s never broken a single promise in his life. (Coward, another part spat, will you really let a child do your job for you?)

He had the strange feeling that if he had any less control over his body he would be having a panic attack. But as it was, he was perfectly still as he thought of his place in the world. The world that he might have ruined and changed irreversibly just by existing.

He heard the door open and oh, who was it this time? Did Gai come to bother him about getting hospitalized again? Oh. No, that's impossible. Gai… couldn’t come to bother him. Or challenge him. Or anything him. Gai, as he knew him, was gone. Gai might as well have been dead-

Wait, no. He already went through this what, five times during the hospital? He didn’t need to do that again. Nope. He was fine now. Just peachy.  

His younger self was staring at him from the doorway, probably silently judging him for existing, if Sukea knew him. Which he honestly might not; it’s been seventeen years and he’s tried to repress every memory of that time that he had. All he really knew about him was that he was a very angsty six-year-old.

“Sensei and Kushina-san want you to come over to dinner,” Kakashi droned, and very suddenly Sukea got snapped back into reality. He mourned his ability to ignore his problems and finally sat up.

Sukea eye-smiled and almost forgot to actually smile along with it, “Maa, now? Shouldn’t I be resting?” He was not ready to face Minato-sensei, or Kushina-nee. He only just accepted his circumstances and seeing his old sensei would rip open barely-healed wounds and that might just break him.

Kakashi saw through his bullshit excuse immediately, having to be have heard the many complaints about the resting that Sukea had to do, and looked at him with a stare that said ‘if you don’t come I’ll drag you there’. Probably. He was a little rusty on translating not-speech.

Sukea sighed and felt a bit like sulking, “Oh, ok, fine. Who’s your sensei?” Sukea already knew who (how could he forget) but knowing who Kakashi’s sensei was before he even told him might come out as very suspicious. He was also scheming; he could be an hour late and see Minato for half-a-second and probably not have a mental break-down when he got home. Probably. Maybe. If he crossed his fingers and prayed to Kami.

“Namikaze Minato. Be there at five.” Kakashi then turned away and walked out of the room quickly, likely disgusted by Sukea’s very existence. Sukea briefly glanced over to the clock on the wall that said four-thirty and smirked slightly.

Time to start earning his reputation.

Looking in the mirror, Sukea almost felt like ignoring how he’s changed. Ignoring how he was half a foot taller and how he looked like he hadn’t eaten for two years. Ignoring how he was no longer him.

Sukea was twenty three going on twenty, nearly ten centimeters taller than he remembered, and his skin paler than it ever should have been. Sukea was thin to the point that it looked nearly unhealthy (nearly, because if he was unhealthy the hospital would have never let him go), just on the edge of starvation and the funny thing was that he wasn’t even hungry. How did he even get as far as he did with his failing health?

Sighing, Sukea ran his hand over his chest and noted several new scars. One right under his protruding ribs, a rough patch of skin that he wasn’t expecting. It seemed that he was burned there, all the way down to his abdomen. He moved his hands down lower, feeling his hip bones jutt out sharply. There was another scar there; probaby from a blade. Looking at it, Sukea wondered how his body had survived the abuse that it seemed to have gone through.

He had a feeling that the reason the hospital seemed to especially hate Sukea was because he refused to take care of himself. That made sense.

Sukea felt so much weaker than he ever was. He had approximately zero muscles, and it seemed that the only thing that got him through ANBU was chakra, soldier pills and adrenaline. Sure, his body back before wasn’t the pinnacle of good health, but at least he ate something besides ration bars every once in a while. At least he didn’t look like a strong gust of wind could blow him over.

He decided that baggy clothes were in his future.

The one thing that seemed to have stayed the same (almost to the point that it unsettled him) was his face. He still had oversized canine teeth that poked up over his lips. Still had tired-looking eyes. The only difference seemed to be the slightly sharper jawline that he now sported. And somehow, somehow, his already unruly hair got even more wild. It stood up in all directions instead of mostly straight up, and had had a feeling that brushing it could be appropriately called ‘hell in a hairbrush’.

All of the slight differences worked to make him look even more feral than he already was, and while he was always up for some good intimidation, having everyone in his own village scared of him wasn’t a thing that he wanted to go through again. He had his work cut out for him.

Sukea itched for his mask, not only to hide his face, but to stop him from getting overstimulated. When he was in the hospital, they kept him drugged for most of his stay. That had the fortunate side-affect of muting the acrid smell of death and sanitation that permeated through the air around it, but now that he was truly and totally sober he was getting hit with unexpected smells left and right. 

With one last drag of his hand over his new scars, Sukea walked out of the bathroom to get ready. It had already been an hour.

With a small almost-step backwards, Sukea nearly ran away from the door (red, red like Kushina-nee’s hair-) that he was standing in front of. It was nearly six-thirty, an hour and a half after he was said to come; pretty mild compared to what he was used to normally, but he figured he would start off small.

(He was not ready to face the people who practically raised him after his fathers death.)

It wasn’t that Sukea particularly wanted to be there, but if he was any later he had a feeling that Kushina-ne- no, he should call her Kushina- san- would very possibly kill him. Or Kakashi. Both outcomes were not desirable.

Sukea, sadly, did not get to run away from the door as it slammed open fast enough to nearly rip the poor thing off of it’s hinges. There Kushina was, in all of her angry glory and oh Kami, she had a hole through her chest- he needed to get her to the hospital- wait no they weren’t enough to save her last time-

(Something his brain didn’t note was that there wasn’t the metallic smell of blood at all)

Sukea was staring at Kushina with his eyes clouded over and if his breathing was coming a little bit too fast to be normal, well, no one noticed. Even though she had her heart hanging out of her body with only a few strings to connect it, she was still moving her arms around angrily with her hair, (red, red, stained with her blood ) raising up behind her in that intimidating way that it always did when she got angry. It was then that Sukea started paying attention to what the ghost was saying.

“-you bastard if I knew you were going to be late I wouldn’t have even planned this-”

Oh, her liver was starting to fall out as well. Should he try and push it back in? Nah, if she could survive without her lungs Sukea doubted she needed a liver.

“-and I know that Kakashi-chan said that you were evil incarnate but I thought he was exaggerating-”

Sukea tried to stop his eyes from straying to the gaping hole in her chest, knowing that it would only be mistaken as something entirely different. Her scent already reeked of anger and frustration, he didn’t need to make it worse.

“-we made this nice meal and everything, dattebane! And you just-”

He was starting to wonder if he should stop her; he knew from experience that Kushina would keep on ranting until someone stopped her.

“Maa, I’m sorry I’m late,” Sukea interrupted with a surprisingly normal-sounding voice, ignoring the squawks of ‘late!? It’s been an hour and a fucking half-’, “but I saw a rainbow and I just had to see if there was a pot of gold at the end.” Ignoring the fact that it was the middle of summer and it hadn’t rained in weeks.

“There wasn’t,” he drawled, and then put a hand behind his back, grabbing a hold of some sweaters that he bought when he was waiting, “But I did find these.” Sukea thrusted them out as an offering to the fuming woman in front of him, hoping that the host gifts might help her calm down. (He just wished that she wouldn’t get any blood on them. They were expensive.)

It seemed to make her anger recede slightly, likely because the garments actually seemed to be high-quality. And then he started to see reality as his mind finally realized that she smelled fine, not hurt, and Kushina looked so young. She couldn’t be older than nineteen, and while that wasn’t a huge age-difference compared to his own twenty three going on twenty, Kushina always looked so much older than him in his memories.

This Kushina wasn’t dead. This Kushina wouldn’t die. Not again, not ever. He would make sure of it.

Sighing, Kushina moved out of the way of the door and started walking back inside. Sukea held his hand out to stop the door from closing, but hesitated. Even if she wasn’t dripping blood anymore, he was still recovering and he really didn’t need to experience that with Minato-sensei. But then again, ditching them would definitely put him on their shit list and he needed that even less.

Walking through the threshold of the house, Sukea looked around and was hit with an even greater sense of nostalgia than he was when he walked into his own apartment. It smelled of Minato and Kushina and himself and home and it was all Sukea could do to stop himself from curling up in a ball right then and there.

Kakashi was sitting on the couch (the one that Kushina hated with passion but that Minato loved) , and the moment that Sukea stepped through the door, his head snapped over to him with a glacial glare. Uh oh. He poked the bear.

“You’re late!” The child seethed. Sukea could almost hear the outlines of a growl in his voice, and though he knew that being late would piss off his younger self, he didn’t expect it to that much.

“I told you five. It’s six thirty eight. We waited for you. We have cold food!” As he was saying this, Kakashi started to stand up on the couch, probably in an attempt to be as tall as him, but even then Sukea towered over him. In an attempt to make the six-year-old feel better, Sukea slouched and put his hands in his pockets. There, now they were almost the same height.

Sukea sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, (a habit he picked up from Minato oh no he didn’t just blow his cover-) and smiled, “Sorry, sorry; I got a bit lost on the path of life.” 

Kakashi was still fuming, looking like he wanted to do something with his arms, but in the end they just went limp and layed next to his sides as he grumbled and  jumped off of the couch. Sukea could still smell food in the kitchen, and for some odd reason it made his stomach churn. Not it hunger, but in disgust. He didn’t want to eat. It seemed that the only things that he was able to eat were apple sauce and coffee. Fun.

He would anyways; Kushina made all this nice food and it would be a travesty to let it go to waste just because his body decided that it didn’t want to cooperate. With only a little coaxing on his part, Sukea’s legs started to move towards the table.

And then Sukea saw Minato (his sensei- father- person- pack- no, not yet, not anymore- he’s dead -) and he stopped his forced steps compleately because Sensei no. Sukea felt the part of himself that immediately made him slap his forehead in defeat rise up again at the sight of him. The man was wearing a frilly pink apron, seemingly making some sort of chocolate desert that made bile rise to the back of his throat when the scent hit him. The sight was so Minato-sensei that the part of him that was still a scared twelve-year-old just wanted to curl up next to him and confirm his existence.

But Sukea was not that scared twelve-year-old anymore. Sukea didn’t even know Minato. So, he walked on towards the food that made his stomach curdle without another stop and convinced himself that the pause was just because he wasn’t used to the sight of domesticity. Which he wasn’t.

And as he was looking at the food that was sitting on the counter, Sukea was hit with how absurd it all was. He was getting invited to dinner by his old sensei because they wanted to know how he would take care of himself. The fact that they even invited him into their home was proof that they trusted Sakumo enough to let him in just because Sukea was his (son) little brother. 

While he was there, Sukea heated up the food with a small fire jutsu.

Kakashi sent another glare to his form, and Sukea got the odd experience of being truly hated by himself. It was one that he doubted anyone else experience quite the same way.

Sukea took another bite of rice, the only thing that he seemed to be able to get down without immediately hurling it back up, and quietly watched the family. It was an odd experience to be able to eat without shoving it down his throat post-haste, and he wished he could truly savor it. It was just his luck that his body made even the thought of eating alarming.

“So, Sukea-san,” Kushina started with a sickly-sweet smile, “Tell us about yourself. Your likes, hobbies, hopes and dreams,” Suddenly, she stood up and leaned forward onto the table threateningly, “Why your only file is seven years old.”

Oh, so Sukea was in ANBU for seven years? Wow, only a little less than his own nine. That meant that he beat Sukea in age for getting into ANBU by only a year. Minato groaned and held his head in his hands.

“Kushinaaa,” He whined from his place in his hands, “I though we were going to be subtle.”

“Subtle, shmuttle. That’s not going to get me answers!” The woman snapped. She did that alot.

Minato lifted his head up from his hands just enough to look at Kushina. “You work in T&I. You should know how to get answers by being subtle.”

Kushina scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You guys only invited me to interrogate me?” Sukea drawled, cutting into the argument.

 “Yes!” “No!” 

Sukea put a hand on his chest. “Wow, I’m hurt.” 

Truly, he was grateful for the intervention. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to eat any more food. It wasn’t that it was bad, but that his stomach just refused to accept it. Kushina walked over to him, meal forgotten. Now that Sukea looked closer, he realized that he was the only one still eating.

“So, why?” She demanded.

“Maa, I can’t exactly tell you that yet,” Sukea said. As he smelled her getting more impatient, he held his hands up placatingly. “But, I can tell you that I haven’t been a normal jounin for a while” 

Kushina squinted at him, seemingly thinking, before she yelled out, “Aha! I got it!” 

She pointed at him, “You were on a reeeeally long super secret mission!” 

Super secret really long mission? Was that what ANBU was to the woman? Kushina was smart, really, but she tended to spout the first thing that came to mind. Sukea chuckled. “Well, I guess you could call it that.”

At that point, Kakashi had already left, probably to train or slander some academy students. Sukea was getting tired of interacting with his ghosts, and looking for him might be a good excuse to leave. Yes.

Just as Sukea was about to shunshin, Minato’s eyes widened for a second. “ANBU,” He whispered.

Sukea winked at them before he flickered away.

Chapter Text

It was wrong. Something was wrong and immediately after Sukea had flickered he clutched his stomach because oh, it did not like that at all . Quickly, he turned his head before he could completely hurl everything and heaved. Coughing, he looked at the pile of barely-digested rice a bit mournfully.

On instinct, he reached for his mask to pull it back up only to remember that he didn’t have it, and sighed. Instead, he ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to wash out the after taste with his spit.

Well, that confirmed his theory. Mushy things it was. Sukea should have eaten something easier on his stomach instead of going straight to the rice; it would have avoided an entirely unpleasant experience.

Instead of focusing on how he would have eat entirely hospital-mush, Sukea went out to go and find his original objective. Mini-Kakashi. Kakashi Jr. Fun-sized Kakashi. 

Sukea sighed. His Mini-Me was likely… not the happiest with him, and Sukea didn’t really want to deal with a bratty Kakashi.

He sighed again, somehow even more morose than before. Sukea may not want to deal with him, but as his older self and temporary guardian, Sukea supposed he had a duty to make sure he didn’t somehow stab himself in the eye or something. 

Slowly, he took a step from where he had been standing, and then the vertigo hit. Sukea clutched his head as the world spun, and his stomach twisted again in warning. He stood there for a good minute before he finally felt confident enough to try to take another step.

Sukea rubbed between his eyes, wondering how his health was simple this bad. This body may not be his but he liked to think that even at his worse he never got this unhealthy. Even now, he felt as if his ribs were poking through his clothes; stark and noticeable. Even ignoring that, at every moment, one scar or another ached something fierce. His leg, the one he had broken, still ached with every movement.

No, really, it was a wonder that this body didn’t pass on far before he ever got his hands on it. Doing ANBU for seven years, something that had nearly killed him numerous times when he wasn’t skin-and-bones, by all rights should have wiped him out.

Sukea got the vague sense that something else was going on, but he decided to push that away for later. After all, he had a child to find.

He focused, turning his thoughts inward and trying to find Kakashi’s chakra. Sukea would try to  find him by scenting him out, but he didn’t really want to try that yet without a mask. His sense of smell could be overwhelming even with the mask, and he didn’t really want to know what the putrid smell of vomit so near by would do to this body (not to mention how even when he was away from the house, the entire area permeated with the scents of Minato and Kushina. He didn’t need that. He was already barely holding himself together as is.)

There- Not very far, in a secluded training ground barely a five minute run from Minato and Kushina’s house, was the bright white light of mini-Kakashi’s chakra. It seemed to be mostly calm, save for the minor spikes that meant he was practicing a jutsu.

So, probably wouldn’t stab himself in the eye.

Sukea grimaced. Did he really need to go get the kid? Kakashi already hated him, and interrupting a training session? Sukea had forgotten most of how he was back then, but he knew that doing that would make his mini-me hate him even more than he already did.

But-

What would Minato think if he found out that Sukea just walked away when Kakashi was so nearby?

“Arg h.” Sukea groaned. He should at least make sure that the kid didn’t hate him too much. Maybe supervise the training a tad.

With one last sigh, Sukea leapt into the trees. The most direct route from here to there didn’t have any paths, but that was fine.He grew up in Konoha; the trees were his playground since the moment he learned how to walk. Hopping from tree to tree may even be less taxing than running on the ground. It would only be about a five minute run, but with how his body was acting up, he dreaded it.

The trees blurred by with the occasional building showing up and passing by just as quickly. It was calming, Sukea thought. At least some things stay the same no matter where or when you are.

Maybe after he had checked up on Kakashi he could go and grab some applesauce or something. Sukea may not feel hungry, but he knew he needed something to eat. He thinks… the last thing he had to eat was dinner, but he threw all that up. Before that though, it was the mush at the hospital they gave him before they let him go. That was a while ago. 

Kakashi’s chakra signature got closer and closer with every hop, and Sukea figured that he was getting pretty close. With a sort of morbid curiosity, he wondered if their signatures were the same. Of course, he didn’t know how his felt besides his minor experience with his counterpart’s, but he would bet they were pretty similar.

Rather suddenly, the trees cut off onto a line, and Sukea stopped. This was the training ground, all right. In the middle of the clearing sat his younger self, with a pile of kunai at his feet. He seemed to be throwing them at a target near the end of it. He was throwing them with more force than was strictly necessary, and if Sukea didn’t know better, he would bet he could hear angry muttering as well.

Oh, he’s mad mad.

With a final jump, Sukea landed on the edge of the clearing. He didn’t make any noise when he landed, something instinctual, so it took a few moments for Kakashi to notice him. 

Kakashi picked up another kunai before reeling back to make what would have been a particularly angry throw, before he froze. Ah. It seemed that he had spotted Sukea.

His eyes narrowed and he scoffed, kunai still in hand, before he threw it towards the target again. Sukea would bet money that Kakashi was imagining his face in place of the target.

Internally, Sukea grimaced, but externally he put up a hand and waved cheerfully. “Hey, mini-me!” He greeted.

The thunk of kunai didn’t stop, and Kakashi seemed determined to ignore him. That was fine by Sukea; he didn’t really want to talk, either. 

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, with Sukea standing on the edge of the training ground while his counterpart threw kunai. He really wanted to leave, he did. But he also didn’t want to confront any of… anything. He didn’t want to confront how he was in the past. He didn’t want to confront how the people who he loved were still alive (oh God Rin. Obito. They’re still alive. Still alive and breathing and untainted by death-).

Watching his younger self like this, it was almost like he was observing an old memory. The quite thumps of kunai hitting wood were intimately familiar, almost comforting in how he knew he had done this very thing so many times. The only thing that ruined the peaceful scene was how his younger self kept on glancing towards him with contempt. But besides that, he could almost pretend it was all a dream.

And really, what better did he have to do?

(No, no he had so much better he could be doing- he could be trying to make sure that his counterpart actually cared about his teammates, he could be trying to make them stronger; strong enough to survive, and here he was, wallowing in self-pity-

There was so much he could be doing, and yet here he was. Wasting away this second chance that had been given to him. God, he was such a failure, wasn’t he?)

The repetitive thunk of kunai continued on, and a bird twittered in the distance. A happy scene; one that he had no right to intrude on. And really.

What better did he have to do.

Sukea was so lost in his own thoughts that he barely registered when Kakashi stopped his training to turn around and look at him. He could see the barest outlines of a frown behind his mask, and there was a kunai hanging loosely from his hands.

Suddenly, Kakashi spoke up. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice was accusatory, but almost confused. Different enough from the background that it drew him from his half-remembered dream.

“Hm? Like what?” Sukea hummed distractedly. 

His counterpart looked at him, almost through him. “Like you- know me. You don’t .” He said, the last part tacked on almost as an afterthought.

Suddenly, all semblance of a dream fled from his mind, and something colder took hold.

Ah. Right. He wasn’t simply an observer- they saw him too.

Sukea waved it off, “Mah, no reason.” And before he could think better of it, the words bubbled out from his throat. “You just reminded me of something, thats all.”

Somehow, his younger self’s body language became even more closed off, and his eyes narrowed. The slight frown that was visible under his mask deepened into a scowl.

Sharply, he turned back around and threw the kunai in his hand with so much ferocity that Sukea was scared that the target might crack.

Sukea stared, blank smile still on his face. This had happened a few times, too. When he was so angry but the only acceptable way to let out that anger was to train. Train and train and train and train even more.

He shook his head; no, he should go. He had already checked up on the kid, and made him even more mad at him. 

Sukea (had so much ) didn’t have much to do, but he supposed he should try to get something to stay in his stomach.

He turned out his feet, before he realized he should probably say something before he left.

“Try to be be back before sundown.” Sukea said, and with a wave, he disappeared.

Chapter Text

Oh, he really should have known better than to try shunshin so soon after the last disaster, but it was an instinctive move.

Automatically, his chakra moved into a flicker and by the time he had realized what he was doing it was too late. The world warped and he only had a few seconds before his stomach was curling in on itself and trying to force itself out from his throat. But there was nothing left to go up- he had hadn’t eaten much of anything and what he had eaten was thrown up earlier.

It still tried.

As he dry heaved, Sukea once again cursed out his body. Why was it like this? What did he do to deserve this?

(A thousand (honey pot, assassination, genocide-) missions flashed through his mind, some of which made him sick to even think about.

Don’t answer that question, actually. Please don’t.)

He heaved harder.

His stomach twisted one last time before it stopped, but Sukea stayed in his position for a few moments before finally straightening his back. He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly as one last aftershock of nausea hit him before he finally took a step.

He looked around, finding himself to be surrounded by trees. Which wasn’t very conclusive; all of Konoha was surrounded by trees. Sukea sighed.

Picking a direction, Sukea went on his way. His pace was slow and unbothered, and he had a permanent slouch. 

The tree’s loomed around him, and the air was permeated with chakra. He breathed in the scent of the forest- the familiarity of it filled him with a sense of calm. It was nice to know that some things stayed the same.

Sukea went on planning his day; He would go to the market, pick up some apple sauce, maybe even a plant to screw with his younger self. It could be Mr. Ukki’s great grandfather. Definitely a book or two of Icha-Icha-

Sukea paused in his tracks, a horrible thought coming to him. Did Icha-Icha even exist at that time? His previously unbothered pace suddenly became very bothered, and he nearly ran towards where he knew the book store was.

If it didn’t exist, then what would he read? Its been his go-to for so long, he didn’t know how he’d find something else that got such hilarious reactions from his peers. (If it didn’t exist, it would only cement his reality even more. The reality that he wasn’t when he wanted to be.)

Sukea jumped from the trees onto a path, startling the few civilians that were walking on it but he honestly couldn’t care less. He beelined it to his favorite bookstore before he dramatically burst through the doors and started checking each and every shelf because it had to be there, it had to be.

When he got to the end of the isle that honestly had one of the least chances to have his book, he desperately flipped through every novel just incase it was under a different title and cover, but no.

No luck.

There was no Icha-Icha.

The cogs in his head that had been previously been whirling overtime halted to a sudden stop, because there- there wasn’t any Icha-Icha. His favorite book didn’t exist yet.

Mechanically, Sukea started to read the book he was holding, if only to distract himself. He was in the part of the book store that was sorted by author name in a last attempt to find anything relating to Jiraiya. Though, he doubted his precious Icha-Icha was even there. He knew that the owner made sure that books like that stayed in the section they were supposed to be in.

His eyes flitted over the first page, and something about the story threw him off. It wasn’t that it was bad, or that it was even particularly good, but it was just- familiar.

Sukea blinked, then turned over the book to get another look at the cover. The words The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi stared back at him.

Slowly, Sukea opened up the book in the middle. One of the first words to stare back at him was ‘Naruto’, cementing that, without a doubt, this was the book that his Sensei had loved so very much.

The nausea from before was coming back slowly, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

Minato had made him read it years before, right after Rin's death. Sukea supposed he meant to use it as a way to tell him that you should never give up, though the only thing it did to thirteen-year-old him was make him more upset. The ideal shinobi never gave up; the ideal shinobi was happy and jubilant and everything that he wasn’t, the ideal shinobi didn’t kill his own friends.

Sukea’s eyes glazed over, and he flipped the page. He was barely even actually reading the book, his eyes glazing over the pages, getting caught a little each time the main characters name came up. Naruto.

He knew that Minato had a son, before, with that same name. ‘Because I want him to be like the main character!’ , Minato had said. He felt a brief flash of guilt. Maybe if he had been better, had worked harder, Minato and Kushina would have still been alive. Would have been able to raise their child. 

Sukea’s eyes lingered around the edges of the page, and something caught his eye. His arm. There was a slight tremor in his arm.

What.

“What?” He murmured again aloud, because simply thinking it wasn’t enough to capture the sheer feeling of confusion going through him.

He was shivering? There was just- it was just a slight tremor going through him, but he was shivering.

The book shop was cold, yes (probably too cold, why was it so cold? That couldn’t be good for business-), not enough to shiver, and he certainly wasn’t upset enough to be shaking for that reason.

What is wrong with this body? He thought.

Now that he was paying attention, he could see that both of his arms were shaking. He was full on shivering.

If he thought about it, yes, maybe it was cold, maybe he could almost feel it down to his bones, but he had been through Kiri in the wintertime with only an ANBU regulation tank top and he barely even shivered then .

But, Sukea thought, sight trained on his still shaking arms, that was in a different body.

A body that had at least some muscle and fat to protect it from the cold, a body that wasn’t literally just skin and bones, a body that could actually regulate its temperature.

He took a deep breath before letting out a tremendous sigh, and he started walking through the aisles of the book store towards the exit. If he was so cold, maybe he would be less cold outside of the heavily air-conditioned building. It was summer, after all.

He was just about to exit the store before he heard a shout. “Hey! You have to pay for that, you know!” 

Sukea turned around, and was immediately hit with a wave of what must have been nostalgia. It was the same old civilian book-keeper from his time- if significantly younger- hair more brown than gray. His name was Watashi, if Sukea remembered correctly. The bookkeeper , of all things, was a constant presence.

Watashi was standing behind a counter, an angry fist raised in the air.

It was then that he remembered the slight weight in his hands was a book that he didn’t own, and almost automatically he went to the cash register and payed for it with a portion of the money he had in his pocket. 

He walked out of the store, slightly numb at this point. He could barely feel the tips of his fingers, for one, but he had hit a wall of apathy as well. 

He didn’t even know why he bought the book. It wasn’t like he was going to actually read it again.

Sukea slipped the book into his pocket, and decided to not think about it until a later date. Because he had other, more important things to deal with. Most importantly, food.

If he thought very, very hard about it, he could almost feel his stomach growl. Almost.

He was still shivering, but it was so much warmer outside. He was still wondering how he got so cold, especially since he was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but he could deal with it later. Perhaps when he decided to read that book. Ha.

Sukea turned his gait to the food market. The book store (or at least, the book store that he liked to frequent) was near the edge of the village, as it wasn’t a very… popular one. For many reasons, but not discluding the entire three shelfs of erotic books that it sported. 

Honestly, Sukea didn’t want to have to deal with the walk to the food market.

He sighed, perhaps the deepest sigh all day, and walked through the paths of the village, collecting stares the whole way. He supposed it was justified. He was one of the last Hatake. That did not mean, however, that every pair of eyes he felt on him did not make his skin itch. Did not make him want to either run away or yell at them to just look away. Some were hateful, some were sympathetic, and others just wanted their share of the gossip. 

Suddenly, while awkwardly walking through one of the (unfortunately) most crowded parts of town, he heard a shout. Of his name.  

What.

“Sukea! It is you, right?” It came again, closer this time. Sukea tucked his hands into his pockets and hunched in on himself in an effort to make himself less noticeable, but it was too late. He had been spotted.

But by who? Well, that was a mystery.

“Sukea! Do not run away from me!” 

He walked faster. 

Despite his best efforts to high-tail it out of there, the increasingly insistent and loud shouts of his names became closer, and soon enough he sensed the chakra of someone far too close to him for comfort. It would have been a calm, soothing chakra signature (almost like herbal healing cream) if it wasn’t actively chasing after him

Sukea was not ready for this. This person, who likely knew Sukea (the one from before, his uncle ) recognized him, was looking for him. They would probably- no, definitely- see that something was off. And if something was off , he would immediately get carted out of the village or executed, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. 

In a last ditch attempt to, well, ditch his followers, he ducked into an alleyway and jumped on the roof. If they were civilian (which was very, very unlikely, considering their chakra signature-), then great! If not, then, well. 

Lets hope he knew a city he hadn’t seen in seventeen years better than someone who knew it as their present.

Yeah. He was screwed.

The thump behind him disproved the smidgen of hope that, maybe, just maybe they were civilian and damn it all, Sukea ran.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he briefly stared down at the world below him. It was all so… different than he remembered, which was to be expected, he supposed. Last he remembered it was a bit less than two decades in the future. 

He didn’t have time to focus on that though- he had to evade whoever it was that was chasing him.

Sukea took a hard left to a place that should lead to somewhere around his apartment, before belatedly remembering that over there wasn’t his apartment anymore, over there probably didn’t even exist. Actually, if he remembered it correctly, that entire section of the village hadn’t been built until after the Kyuubi attack. Which wouldn’t happen for at least another seven years, if at all.

A quick glance told him that he was correct. There wasn’t even a facsimile of an apartment complex; merely forest, forest and more forest.

His body, far to weak to be forced to run around after vomiting twice, nearly missed a step when he realized his screw-up. A small amount of panic was starting to fill him, because he really wasn’t ready to confront a past that wasn’t even his. This shinobi that was chasing after him was probably angry, or concerned, and he really didn’t want to take responsibility for mistakes he hadn’t even made.

If he had to, well, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably throw up again if the nausea he was feeling had anything to say about it.

In a move that would probably work in any other circumstance, Sukea halted to a stop and started to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction, hoping to throw off his pursuer.

Unfortunately, because he hadn’t had anything to eat in the last day or so, and because he was already feeling shaky, he… miscalculated. While putting his foot down for another jump, he put too much weight on his injured leg. If it was just the pain that he had to deal with (though formidable) he would be fine, and continue on, and deal with his body’s past another day , but it wasn’t. His leg was just too physically weak to hold his weight, even though he was probably less than a hundred pounds.

Sukea fell.

He hit the ground with a roll before ending up on his back, the scent of urine and trash permeating through the air. He had landed in a small alleyway, a dumpster on either side of him.

Sukea clenched his eyes shut. Somewhere during the shit show that has been his day he had developed a headache, and it seemed that it was deciding to try and burst out of the back of his head. 

Suddenly, he heard a loud thump behind him, and clenched his eyes shut even harder. If he could trust his body not to implode on itself, he would have shunshined away long ago. Sadly, he could not.

Sukea held his breath, and stopped moving besides the quite thump-thump-thump of his heart. Perhaps if he was still enough, they would go away?

Despite all of Sukea’s hopes and dreams, the person spoke. “Sukea, what was that? Did you just try to run from me?”

It seemed that his strategy of pretending that they didn’t exist would not work, and so Sukea squinted his eyes open just a tad and craned his neck to get a look at who he was dealing with.

His eyes ran over them as he categorized their looks; male, blond hair, blue eyes, no pupil.  Yamanaka, then. He was staring at Sukea with a disgruntled expression on his strong features, his short (shorter than usual, for a Yamanaka) pony-tail hanging in front of his face. 

“Ah, yes?” Sukea said. His voice was rough like sandpaper, and he cleared his throat. It felt like sandpaper, too. 

Slowly, he sat up, and Yamanaka glowered at him. “I haven’t seen you in seven years, and your first reaction to me was running?” The disgruntled expression slowly morphed into concern as the seconds ticked by, before Yamanaka finally said, “What happened to you?”

There were about a million answers to that question. ‘You’ve actually never seen me ’, or, ‘Well, I blinked and then suddenly I was here sitting in a pool of my own regrets’, or a personal favorite, ‘I just got a bit lost on the road of life.’

Instead of saying any of that, though, Sukea just shrugged. With a bit of effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He figured that he should try to stand as well, but his leg was still throbbing at him. 

Suddenly, Yamanaka grabbed his arm and hauled him up. His fingers dug painfully into what little meat that Sukea had on his arm, and he grunted as he was lifted like he was as light as a feather. Because he was. He was lighter than he should be, and the distinct reminder left him mildly upset. He really did need to eat.

Sukea stumbled forward a bit as the world spun, and when his head finally started to feel like it was screwed in right, he looked up. Yamanaka was staring at him with tight, concerned eyes, and Sukea blinked. Ah. Right. This person knew him. They supposedly hadn’t seen him since he joined ANBU, and they just saw him fall from a rooftop.

Sukea nearly groaned aloud. Couldn’t this encounter have been saved for another day? A day where he didn’t feel like each step was going to make him pass out? A day where he hadn’t already been viciously confronted with his failures? 

Yamanaka opened his mouth to speak, and Sukea had his answer. No.

Suddenly, he was cut off by a gruff voice from behind them. 

“Inodeki-san?” It called out, and nearly every single one of Sukeas muscles tensed in surprise. Someone had… snuck up on them? How? Sukea knew that the body he was stuck in had made him weaker (being severely underweight would do that to a man), but certainly he would have at least noticed if someone had entered the alleyway. He snapped his head around, uncaring of the dizzy spell it cast on him. 

There was another man there- Uchiha, he categorized after a moment of staring. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and chakra like a wildfire. He had a vicious scar slashed across most of his face, and an eyepatch covering one of his eyes.

(Familiar…? No, he was certain that he had never seen this man in his life.)

Sukea’s eyes wandered over the Uchiha's face, looking for a reason that he felt like he knew this man. If he squinted, perhaps he could see a little of itachi mixed in there?

His chakra reminded him of the campfires that Obito used to make, when they were out on an overnight mission. It reminded him of long nights spent staring at foreign stars in quiet company. It reminded him of-

Briefly, their eyes met, and the feeling of familiarity increased ten-fold.

(His eye- his eye itched, it stung, something was crawling all over it and it wasn’t his , he took it from the dead body of his first friend and he wanted to claw it out, out out out-)

He blinked through the sudden wave of nausea that passed through him, and clutched his stomach as it rolled. He knew as well as it did that there was nothing left for him to throw up.

Someone was calling out to him, saying a name that he knew wasn’t his but still rang in his ears.

They shook him, and Sukea snapped out of it. “Sukea. Sukea! What is up with you? Do you need to go to the hospital?” The concerned eyes of Yamanaka (Inodeki, apparently) looked up at him, and Sukea shook his head. No hospital. He just spent too long there already, he was not about to spend more time there when he had a choice not to.

And also. He didn’t know what was up either- what was that? Genjutsu? 

He stared at the Uchiha some more, this time being careful to avoid eye-contact. Sukea had determined that he probably knew this Uchiha- based off of the familiarity and the (probable) genjutsu. An old lover that he had upset, perhaps?

The Uchiha’s expression told him that he was just about as confused as Sukea was, so that disproved that theory.

Sukea shook his head to rid himself of the lingering feeling of familiarity, just as Inodeki cleared his throat.

“Well.” He said, turning towards the Uchiha. His tone was somber and bleak and at least a little bit angry at the world, and Sukea had half the mind to ask why. “Kagami-kun, this is Sukea.”

Suddenly, Inodeki leaned towards Sukea and whispered, an angry sort of intensity injected in his tone. “I don’t know where you’ve been, or how I haven’t seen you, but Kagami’s amnesiac. Every single thing. Gone.”

…What?

Amnesiac? How odd.

Sukea whispered back, eyes still glued to Kagami , “How?” And just for good measure, as he had a pretty good feeling about how this man was like, “He’s stubborn enough to make sure that he remembered at least some things, right?”

Inodeki shook his head. “Another time.”

The Yamanaka leaned away just as quickly as he leaned towards him, and Sukea was left a little unsteady. Every single ounce of anger and sadness had been purged from Inodeki’s body, and he went and walked over to Kagami before whispering something in his ear. The Uchiha’s eyes widened a bit, before he looked over Sukea in a whole new light.

Suddenly, Inodeki beamed. “How about we have a team dinner? It’s been seven years, ” at this, Inodeki sent a glare Sukea’s way, “Since team 5 has been together. It is definitely cause for celebration.”

He didn’t even wait for either of the two other men to respond, and Sukea was left reeling from the whole interaction. He almost felt like he wanted to just… lay down, and fall asleep. Perhaps forever. That sounded good. From what little he knew of the man, Inodeki was… a lot.

Kagami stared as well, before shrugging and following Inodeki. And well. 

Sukea really did need food.