Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There wasn’t anything like the smell of freshly excavated Earth, bones, and sweat on a Sunday afternoon. 

Mirai Fujihara had spent all day weaving hand sign after hand sign. Her hands ached as she was hunched over her operating table unblinking, focusing on the task in front of her. A fluorescent light shone on a pile of moist, fertile soil that sat on the cold metal surface. Quite an odd sight for a medical lab like the one she was in now. 

At a quick glance, to the average eye, it would seem like a completely normal clinical study lab. Beakers and pipettes of all different sizes stood precariously atop the metallic shelves that lined the walls. An incubator in the corner was humming as it emitted a dusky orange light. In it, sat some kind of thorny purple plant that was periodically spouting clouds of spores, clouding the glass interior. The nearby bookshelf was stocked full of chemistry compound books whose page edges were sedulously tabbed with thousands of color-coordinated sticky notes. Just a lab - maybe one belonging to a friendly botanist or chemist.

However, the closer the lab was inspected the more off things that were noticed.

In the corner sat a rusty, dirty shovel and muddy boots. Next to the incubator, a thick textbook was laid open to a page concerning the dissection of human anatomy. If a person were to glance at the top of the fridge they would be shocked to find a volumetric flask with a sole eye ball floating in some deep blue preserving liquid. Scalpels soaked in the sink, water stained a deep crimson. And there, jutting out from mound of dirt on the operating table, were shards of white. From the looks of it, it appeared to be bone, tiny, belonging to some rodent that had perished quite a while ago.

The smell of the earthy soil hung in the air mingling with something heavier; Anticipation, perhaps. The feel of sweat dripping down the back of Mirai’s neck. The shaky feeling as the last of her air in her lungs was used up, too enrapt to take another breath.

Mirai’s hands were clasped tightly into a seal, as she willed her chakra to materialize around the dismantled carcass in front of her. There was an energy in the air, different from normal jutsu, that felt akin to electricity. It had grown to encompass the room, making it feel ten times smaller than it actually was. A ghostly green glow emanated from her body, stretching around the mound, grabbing ahold of the buried mangled bones. Flecks of dirt toppled off as they were slowly extracted, floating midair in front of Mirai.

She cautiously stood up from her chair, only looking more intent as her eyes carefully tracked the bones in the air.

“C’mon… That’s it,” she encouraged. The bones began to twitch, shifting to new positions midair. Sick clicks started to fill the room as the bones began to rotate together, attaching to one another. Humerus to elbow joint, metacarpal to phalange. With each connection, Mirai’s face lit up bit by bit. She felt a bit like a mad scientist, but she didn’t care - it was working.

With her chakra guiding them, the bones fit together like puzzle pieces, forming the skeleton that once was whole. The final piece, the skull, shot out of the dirt, maybe with a little too much force and excitement. Mirai carefully regained her composure and floated it down until it was seated at the end of the neck. She stilled her hands as an excited smile broke out on her face.

Eyes alight, Mirai admired her masterpiece. From the bone’s features, it appeared to be the body of a nutria, local to the Leaf Village. Its long tail drug behind his body and big yellowed teeth opened slightly as it nervously inspected the room. Marvelous, she thought. 

With her left hand maintaining the seal, she clicked the timer next to her on. Time was of the essence now. Mirai silently, and carefully, wagged her pen in front of the creature’s face. With bated breath she waited for the creature’s hollow eyes to follow the direction of her pen. Her pen started to move more rapidly, more desperately, as she willed with all her might to get the creature to even turn its face a fraction. However, disappointingly, the creature’s vision never seemed to sync up with the zig zag of her movement.

Mirai sighed, clicked open her pen, and shifted her right hand to write in the open journal on her desk.

Revision Thirty Six: blind, capable of movement- 

Her scrawl was forceful, making deep indents in the paper as her feeble ball point nearly collapsed in her grip.

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Yeah, stupid , the skeleton can’t see because it doesn’t have freaking eyeballs. She glanced over to the preserved eye sitting on top of her fridge, maybe if she found a way to replace them and tap into the optic nerve…

There had been some many so many… oddities discovered in her reanimation studies. She hadn’t intended to set out on a journey to reanimate the dead, however it had found her nonetheless.

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Two years ago, on a walk through the woodland that surrounded Konoha, she had stumbled across an exposed hummingbird skeleton on the forest floor. It had been so tiny, so fragile and helpless, that she didn’t think twice about picking up its little body and taking it home with her. Its disassembled corpse had sat on her desk for weeks, staring at her. She wondered how the poor creature had met its end. A victim to predation? Disease? There wasn’t any overt signs of death on the skeleton, so maybe natural causes? But, it looked so small, like it didn’t have a chance to live its full life.

Something about the skeleton had continued to eat away at Mirai. Even while not at home, she found her mind drifting to the little bird. Thoughts of its tiny bones, piled on top of each other haphazardly. Scattered, jumbled, a mess of what it used to be. What did it want? To be whole , something deep inside her whispered.

So her journey started there, with simply reconstructing the tiny skeleton one piece at a time. A couple of books on osteology and anatomy had served her well, giving her the knowledge of basic structure and layout. The topic of attaching the bones came next. She was aware of certain medical ninjutsu that had been developed to mend bones and tissue together. They were advanced techniques and took lots of chakra control to master, but she had the time and the fixation. 

Though she wanted to jump into fixing the baby bird immediately, it hurt her to think about accidentally breaking its body. Instead, she broke her own fingers day after day, doing her best to put them back together. Mirai thought her left pinky was still slightly askew to this day, but it didn’t matter, she was able to get the hang of it between her regular missions.

After weeks of labor, the hummingbird had been reassembled, and satisfaction had swelled in her heart. However, that had lasted for about two minutes before the same gnawing feeling worked its way back into her subconscious. The next day she was back out foraging, desperate to find another project. A discovery of a squirrel had followed, then a fox. She had even come across a full-bodied deer that had been attacked by some clawed animal. She had brought them all home, macerated the flesh, cleaned the bones, and reassembled them back to whole. It was a hobby, she had told herself, just a cross between puzzles and taxidermy. Not something she wanted to share with the public maybe, but something private and special, something to keep her busy.

But, it wasn’t enough. The twinge in her heart only grew with the more bodies she reassembled. The way that the skeletons had watched her from the corner of her room troubled her. They begged to move again, to see, to live. She had placed their bodies in the closet, but their stares had burned through the door. At night, sleep did not find her, only ideas and theories for how to help these creatures. In the tumbleweed of half-baked and whimsical ideas that rolled around in her head, one stuck out.

Chakra networks, the system that pushed chakra through living creatures’ veins, transforming physical and spiritual energy into something tangible. An energy that shinobi could be tap into like a well. Could this chakra network be recreated posthumously? Could an external network be synthesized and attached to the skeleton, returning some bodily function to the creature?

The next day she was in the library, yet again, with a thick stack of books that had been published by the Hyuga clan. Thankfully for Mirai, with the Hyuga’s ability to see these chakra networks clearly, she had a map for how these pathways were laid out in the body.

A skeleton didn’t have organs to make its own chakra, but she could supply her’s. She worked tirelessly, refining her chakra down to the molecular level, directing its tempestuous energy into complex and flowing trajectories. It was similar to a railway, turning on and switching circuits as a train traveled, taking the chakra along the path it needed to go. But just a thousand times as complicated.

Luckily, instead of making these paths entirely from scratch, Mirai had discovered a certain ghost of a chakra system that still existed within the bodies. When supplying her chakra to the body, it had flocked to empty spots or chakra points that had worn down after death, giving it new life. How long these networks were sustained, she was not sure. It was something she’d like to ask the Hyuga clan with their special eyes, but then they’d know what she was up to. But it was suspicious that this wasn’t noted in any of their medical textbooks…

As Mirai furthered her practice into repairing the skeleton’s chakra networks, small twitches in the body began. Like someone slowly snapping out of rigor mortis, movements were clunky at first. But with each stab at practice, they got more advanced. The furthest she had gotten was for her fox to take a mere two steps, but she had celebrated those steps as if it was her own child taking their first steps in life. She wasn’t able to hold the completed chakra network for more than fifteen minutes at her current level, but she was improving slowly.

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Mirai closely inspected the rodent on the table. The head darting around, its teeth chattering together, even the tail swaying behind its rear, these things had to mean something. The body did not have a brain any longer, but there was some semblance of instinct that was retained. Was this from the chakra network, the bones, memory maybe? She would find out.

She glanced at her timer, thirteen minutes had passed and her chakra was dwindling down to its reserved. Today would be chalked up to another failure, she hadn’t made it nearly as far as she’d like. Her head hurt thinking about the other skeletons waiting in the closet for her, not having any progress to show them.

As she slammed her journal shut, preparing to seal the nutria’s bones together, some movement out of the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. The creature’s head had twisted, glancing curiously at the sound that had come from her journal.

Interesting. She opened her journal again, and jotted a note down.

Capable of hearing - vibrations?

A renewed sense of hope swelled in her chest.

Turning back to the nutria she tapped her pen to the table, alerting it of her impending approach. As Mirai got progressively closer, the rodent’s head followed, quirking its head towards the pen at each tap. Vibrations, of course a skeleton would be able to feel its bones reverberate, perhaps it’s even more sensitive than normal.

When she reached the nutria’s body, she decided to reach out her gloved hand to give the creature a small pat on the head. She wanted to assess the skeleton’s reaction to touch, and perhaps give it a pet for being such a good creature. 

Just as she was about to make contact, a loud rap came from her door. Both Mirai and the rodent jerked their heads towards the unexpected noise. However, for the rodent, perhaps it turned a bit too quickly. One of its neck bones slipped out of place, disassembling the entire skeleton piece-by-piece. The bones fell back to the dirt pile with a dull thud as Mirai’s chakra dissipated.

Her bleak eyes were glued to the table for a few silent heartbeats. That was the furthest she had gotten in agonizing weeks of experimentation with this skeleton. She didn’t have a chance to seal her chakra within the rodent, allowing her to pick her studies back up at this point. No, now she was going to have to start again from scratch.

This was a monumental setback for her shot at the reanimation jutsu, she had just started to feel like it was attainable. Like she would be able to discover not only how to use this technique, but mold it into something that wouldn’t be used simply for war strategy. She would be able to pick up where her predecessors had failed, to perfect the jutsu ethically.

Perhaps a fool’s errand.

Despair shone in her eyes, before rage took over. A cool mask appeared on her face, beneath it simmered icy hostility; A promise of retribution.

She huffed, pushing up from her seat and yanking off her latex gloves. Whoever was at this door was going to get a piece of her mind. To dare interrupt her studies - she scoffed and grabbed a kunai from her pack. A subtle threat would serve them right. 

Mirai whipped open the front door of her lab, the last light of the day shining on her venomous eyes. Threateningly, she was leant against the door frame, her kunai fisted in her right hand as she prepared to lash out at the unfortunate soul at the other side of her entryway.

However, as the door opened, she found no victim as she would have hoped. Confused, her eyes darted to the tree lines, trying to spot any shadows amongst the greenery. Who would ding dong ditch out here? Her lab was miles from the village. A small squawk from below garnered her attention. Glancing down, she was greeted by a small messenger hawk donning the Hokage’s personal symbol.

This couldn’t be good. She usually only received her missions from her direct supervisor in Anbu, never the Hokage directly. 

Her eyes darted back to her failed reanimation effort in her lab. Did the Hokage discover she was trialing forbidden jutsu? She had been careful, no, she had been painstaking in her efforts to keep her studies under wraps. She could explain herself maybe, it wasn’t like she was grave robbing the Leaf. No, she just spent hours in the forest, digging up animals in various states of decay. Okay, maybe she would be labeled a freak, a ninja pariah, but she could live with that.

It was a taboo topic in the ninja world after the late Tobirama Senju had created the jutsu, then banned it before it could come to its true fruition. Mirai held the belief that it was developed by power-hungry, war-mongering leaders, desperate to revive powerful shinobi to use as suicide bombers. They were focused on establishing the Leaf, by any means. Once Tobirama got what he needed, he banned the jutsu, not allowing anyone else to utilize the technique that he created. But it was a book you couldn’t close, that knowledge was out there, and Mirai couldn’t have been the only one that had thought about this prospect. 

It was banned because you had to sacrifice living individuals as a vessel, right? Mirai was convinced that she could develop a method without using a vessel. That made it ethical right? Or at least not un-ethical? She had just begun to prove it with this skeletal reanimation jutsu, no sacrifice had been needed for it to reanimate. She had found another way around.

Yes, The Hokage could be made to see reason. She was focused on bringing people back, to have a second chance at the life that was ripped from them. They wouldn’t be pawns to use in a war. She’d find a way for them to maintain their will, who they were at their core. What if you could hold a loved one that you had lost, even just one more time?  

Of course, it would have to be regulated. She wasn’t trying to grant eternal life, only just a second chance, they could find a way! Oh god, she sounded crazy. She was definitely going to be banished from the village. She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting copper. 

The bird nipped at her boot, as he held out its leg. Tied to its ankle was a roll of parchment with a wax seal. “Okay, okay.” she bent down, hands shaking, to collect the scroll. As she carefully removed the parchment from its scaly leg, the bird took off with a squawk, back towards the direction of the village.

Unraveling the scroll there was just a few words written on the surface.

Hokage’s office. Immediately.

Her stomach lurched as she glanced over to the huge red and orange rotunda she could spot with its doors open in the distance. The sun was descending on the landscape, its orange hue cast a warm tint on the village. Things should be winding down at this time of day. What could he possibly want at this hour, other than to send her packing as a rogue ninja.

Taking off her lab coat, she replaced it with her normal navy over-shirt, zipping up the back hastily. 

Before taking off, she waved her hands over the door and replaced the locking and concealment seal over the entrance, making it appear to mold into the side of the mountain it was built into. She was unsurprised that the Hokage was able to find her here, she legally owned the property after all, he had to have access to the ownership records. However, she hoped he did not know that she had renovated part of  the building into a full-blown clinical research lab. 

The concealment jutsu was one way to keep out wandering eyes, she also made sure her lab was as far from the village as possible. Meaning, it would take her at least twenty minutes to get to the Hokage’s office running at full speed.

Revision thirty six had exhausted her, depleting her chakra reserve down to mere scraps. It had been foolish to exert herself so much, but without it, she wouldn’t have made the progress she made today. Assessing herself, she had probably just enough energy for one body-flicker technique.

She focused her remaining chakra to her body, strengthening the muscles in her legs, as she leapt off of her lab’s front porch in the mountains. Faster than the eye could process, she landed crouched on the windowed balcony outside the Hokage’s office. A tornado of leaves and wind swirled her two long braids behind her back.

Standing up, an unusual cloud of smoke came up to greet her, the smell of aromatic tobacco warming her nose. She glanced up at none other than Shikaku Nara staring out at the sunset, enjoying a smoke. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she suddenly found the floor very interesting.

“They got you too huh?” He said, taking a long pull from his lit cigarette.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said quietly.

“The others are inside.” He tilted his head towards the open glass door.

Chapter Text

Stepping into the Hokage’s office, Mirai felt uncomfortable. It was the first time, probably since she was a chunin, that she was bare-faced in front of him, at least in this close proximity. It made her feel like she was back to being a lonely child again.

Mirai was selected for Anbu six years ago at the age of thirteen. She quite enjoyed the neutrality and anonymity of the organization. The job kept the bills paid, and provided her a much needed outlet between her studies. 

She was assigned the code name Komori, or bat, and gifted one of the standard Anbu masks to obscure her identity. Her mask was made distinct with its long pointed ears that stuck out wide from the top. Two small-but-sharp, red-tipped fangs were painted to protrude from the mouth. From the first time she had placed it on her face, she felt so much more in-tune with herself. It fit her well, small and fierce. 

When on duty, not having to worry about curious eyes from passersby was an insurmountable breath of fresh air. Common folk and ninja alike had adapted to moving through their life, ignoring these quiet masked assassins without a second thought. She was perfectly fine with that.

There were, however, a few exceptions of individuals around the Village that knew the true identities behind the masks; fellow Anbu members and the Hokage himself. Technically members of the organization were not supposed to reveal their identities to each other, but in working so closely, it was difficult to keep your defining characteristics concealed. Likewise, the Hokage was responsible for assigning top priority missions out to the Anbu. He had an intimate knowledge of everyone’s strengths, weaknesses, and background.

Mirai’s mind shot back to her reanimation experiments in the lab. Had he found out somehow?

Positioned around the entry and exit points were the expected Anbu leaders that were on rotation to guard the Hokage. Lynx and Badger swung their heads at her approach, regarding her wordlessly behind their masks. Perfect, her colleagues would be here to witness her banishment. Perhaps one of them would be the ones to scratch out the leaf on her headband, marking her as a rogue ninja.

Just as Mirai had turned begrudgingly to the Hokage’s desk, she was made to dodge a flying scroll that was sent in her direction. Now that she had adjusted to the setting, she realized that the office was in complete disarray. Numerous missives and scrolls had been thrown around haphazardly, scattered across the floor. The Third Hokage stood behind his desk frantically working his way through a precarious wall of documents. His wrinkled brow was furrowed, mumbling beneath his breath about a waste of good trees. 

He paused his fit of searching to give a nod of acknowledgement to her as she carefully made her way to stand in front of his desk. He didn’t seem to be angry, at least at her. Maybe it was not her day to be banished from the village.

“Ah, Mirai, good to see you. Please go stand next to your cohort. I need a second to sort through all these damned things.” He sent another stack scattering through the air. 

Cohort?

Flipping her head to the corner, Mirai was horrified to see a familiar silver-haired figure standing in the shadows. He too, was not wearing his Inu Anbu mask that she was accustomed to, just his normal black face covering that obscured the majority of his visage. She tried to relax her fists that had clenched automatically in his presence.

Kakashi Hatake gave a close-eyed wave from the corner, that to everyone else probably seemed genuine and kind, but she saw it for what it was - smug, arrogant, and conceited. Mortification prickled at her subconscious as she forced her legs to move towards him. How did she miss his annoying presence in the room? His ego was downright suffocating.

“Took you long enough, I thought the Hokage was going to have to send me to drag you out here.” Kakashi taunted from underneath his mask.

Under her breath, Mirai hissed back at him, “Zip it. We all know if there’s anyone dragging someone, it’s me dragging your unconscious body back to the village. Remember Sunagakare three months ago?” She had been there to save his ass that time, but didn’t want to acknowledge the many occurrences where that role was reversed.

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The two had known each other for practically their whole lives, and not once did they see eye to eye. They had struck somewhat of a competition with each other very early on. She wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as the friendly, somewhat obsessive, rivalry that Might Guy had with

No, Mirai and Kakashi’s relationship only existed in the unfortunate happenstances that they were paired together on an Anbu mission, or they made the mistake of passing one another on the street. However, they did their best to avoid either of those scenarios. Mirai couldn’t stand Kakashi’s judgy, nonchalant demeanor. And Kakashi seemed to enjoy nothing more than to provoke her into violent behavior that was unbecoming of a top ranking Anbu agent such as herself.

He constantly picked apart every single flaw that Mirai sought to hide. Her form, her chakra control, even her breathing, Kakashi would often casually throw a “helpful tip” her way, but his words were laced with conceit. It drove Mirai mad, especially considering he was always right . She spent far too many nights with his words bouncing around her head, driving her to train away these perceived flaws.

Perhaps he thought he was her superior because of his age, only one year older than Mirai’s age of nineteen. But in skill, they were evenly matched.

Actually, she was one of few people within the Anbu that could give Kakashi a run for his money. With Mirai’s taste for creating new and experimental jutsu, he didn’t have his normal advantage of having already copied said jutsu with his sharingan.

In their practice spars it was almost down to fifty-fifty odds between the two of them. Their Anbu colleagues had taken to betting on their fights, watching from the tops of nearby trees with bated breath, gripping their coin purses tightly. 

The “child prodigies” they were called, freakishly talented for their young age. Mirai didn’t take it as the compliment that she figured Kakashi did. Working, advancing, and getting better was simply a way of life for her, not optional. For Kakashi, it seemed like everything was just a breeze that just came naturally to him.

On missions, the duo would watch each other’s back, as they would any other team member. However, they would spend the entire time trading snide remarks, each more biting than the last. Mirai tried to avoid it, but the idiot just got a rise out of her. Which she figured is why he kept picking at her, but she couldn’t keep her loathing internal, Kakashi clearly wasn’t. 

She didn’t know specifically what she had done to draw his attention. He didn’t seem to pick on anyone in the organization as much as he did to her. Mirai thought he was threatened by her, intimidated perhaps, but she would never back down to him. However, she did wish to stay as far away from him as possible. However, being summoned to the Hokage’s office, out of uniform, with him, did not bode well for that wish.

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Shikaku approached the corner, having smoked the last of his cigarette on the balcony. He leaned against the wall, next to Mirai, absentmindedly twisting a coin between his fingers. Her breath caught a bit at his nearness. 

The air felt thick and riddled with tension. The three ninja watched as the old man was now completely obscured in a cloud of thrown parchment and scrolls. Judging from the two men’s curious gaze, it looked like they also didn’t know why they had been called forth.

“Finally, there it is!” he sighed in relief, holding up an expensive looking scroll as all the other papers cascaded to the ground.

“I thought I was going to have to send another message to the Rain Village. How embarrassing that would have been…” 

“You three!” he barked.

The group stepped up to his desk, trying their best to avoid the mess of papers littering his office. The crisp scroll he was holding had been stamped with a light blue seal from the Mizukage, or more correctly - interim Mizukage, leader of the Hidden Mist Village.

Mirai was surprised to see a letter from their island neighbors to the East. Things had been tense between the two governments since the reign of the fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi, had ended. 

Also known as the Village of the Bloody Mist, the regime had been renowned for its cruelty against its own. The previous leader had claimed their archaic graduation ceremony was a method of natural selection, only leaving the strongest shinobi alive. It sparked controversy between neighboring villages that were advocating for human rights. The Leaf had sent Mirai to gather intel on this foreign disturbance about a year ago. She had been horrified by the depravity, small children being made to cut down their own comrades and a dwindling population ruled by a mad man. That was until a flood of refugees had escaped to the Leaf by boat, carrying word that Yagura had died. Answers varied from natural causes, assassination, to suicide.

They also revealed that a new interim Mizukage had been selected to take Yagura’s place. The fleeing villagers did not want to stick around to see how it was going to pan out. Allegedly, there was no consensus between the board of elders in the Hidden Mist on the selection of a new Kage. Some had pushed for a new era of peace, while others wanted to continue with their twisted traditions. A mysterious new figure had been selected to serve while the board continued to debate back and forth. Who knew how long that would last? Mirai looked to the scroll and wondered if she would be able to observe the Mizukage and gauge which way he leant.

The Hokage rolled the scroll contemplatively in his hand, not moving to open the parchment. “You are being assigned to a new team for the foreseeable future. You must pause your other… activities.” He said, subtly glancing at the Anbu members standing in front of him. Mirai froze, unbelieving the old man’s comments. No… please, not this , Mirai thought. He is not assigning her on a permanent team, especially with them. She glanced up to see that the two men on either side of her wore matching expressions of repudiation. She had Anbu, other responsibilities, her studies…

“We are piloting a new team formation, a three-man squad with no formal leader. This may seem… illogical to you three, but our studies have shown that in dire times, ninjas can rely solely on one leader, to their detriment. If that person were to become incapacitated, or otherwise unavailable, the team’s likelihood for failure increases ten-fold.”

Mirai’s hands tightened as her parent’s last mission came to her mind. Stranded out in the sands of Sunagakure, her parent’s squad was left alone after their leader had perished to a rogue clan. She was only seven when she had memorized the report on their death, not that it consisted of too many words.

The group faltered in their decision to withdraw, allowing a skilled enemy clan to catch up. The orphaned squad was last seen arguing in the desert, South of the nearest base. Konoha intelligence spotted them off the border, but was not able to get to them quickly enough. Bodies were retrieved.

“We are trying to create a well-balanced team to prevent any further loss of our comrades. We have seen too many fall when their leader is taken out. This obviously is not a strategy that we want to employ for our Chunin and Genin, who are still requiring training by a capable Jonin leader.”

He cleared his throat. “You three are very capable Jonin, but have turned down numerous requests to lead a team of Genin. Your requests were allowed only due to the criticality that you play in your other roles.”

Mirai was aware of the importance that Kakashi and herself served to the Anbu. Their level of intellect and skill was highly praised, in and out of each mission.

She glanced sideways at Shikaku. What criticality did he have? Other than to the local sake joint. She quirked her eyebrow at the man. How old was he again, thirty-five or forty maybe? He was due to get a wise crack from her about his age over a game of shogi later. 

Every once in a while, when hitting a roadblock in her studies, Mirai would find her way to the local bar. It would never fail that Shikaku would be at least three drinks deep in his usual seat in front of the shogi board. With the courage of liquor, she got into the habit of sharing simple conversations with the man as they played a couple rounds, of course getting demolished every time. She found his stoic presence refreshing, almost soothing. Their quiet conversations, the small brushes of their hands, it made Mirai’s heart race and her mouth water. Of course, as soon as the alcohol wore off, she cowered back to her lonely room, tail tucked.

Standing in the same room as him, without the normal scenery of the bar, it made Mirai feel on edge. Shikaku glanced at her pondering expression and gave her a barely visible elbow to her side. She flushed at the contact.

The third Hokage continued in his speech. “The three of you have been hand selected and assigned roles based on your individual strengths.” 

“Kakashi Hatake, you will be the general attack expert. With your proficiency in all forms of weapons, ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu, you will serve the team well.” Mirai noticed Kakashi stand up slightly straighter. No doubt that would stroke his ego for a while. She contained the urge to roll her eyes.

“Shikaku Nara, you will serve as the team tactician, developing strategy based on each of your strengths, and weaknesses. Note, even with your unmatched intellect and… age.” Mirai bit her lip to hold back her giggle. “You are still not the leader of this squad. You will make decisions as a collective, with your knowledge as important input.” Shikaku shifted his weight uncomfortably between his feet.

“Mirai Fujiharu, you have more than proven your strength in the covert arts. You will be the infiltration, assassination, and interrogation expert.” Mirai’s ears pricked as a barely audible scoff escaped Kakashi’s mouth. 

God he was incessant.

“All three of you are capable of more than you are doing right now, and I will not sit by to see any of Konaha’s talents wasting away. You have two weeks from tomorrow to learn how to work together . You must study everything you can about your teammates, becoming a well-oiled machine that can take on any challenge that faces Konoha. Afterwards you will report to my office again for details on your critical mission to the Village Hidden in the Mist.”

Mirai’s nails bit into her palms. Two weeks, and then another mission with no established timeline? You have got to be kidding me, she wanted to pull her hair out. Her advancements, her projects, they were crumbling to dust right in front of her eyes. The cherry on top was who she was paired with. A monumental migraine was working its way into her skull.

The old man stood up at his desk, leaning forward on his hands. His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped an octave. “I cannot emphasize the importance of this, not just for the leaf village, but Shinobi life as we know it. Do not take this lightly.”

His dark expression vanished, leaving behind his regular lamb-like smile “That will be all.”

Stepping out of the office Mirai took a deep breath, but she felt like she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. As she filed out of the room, Kakashi and Shikaku tailed behind her. Her steps were long as she made the nearest beeline for the exit.

This new mission hit close to home, opening old wounds that she tried her best to keep closed. She did her best to steel her mind and expression however, she needed space desperately. 

“Capable of more than you are doing right now,” the old man’s words rang in her head. Yes, she was capable of doing more, but not with this. Her studies were her focus and this would get in the way. She had her routine, her missions, her ambitions in the lab. They were the only things that kept her going day in and day out. But this assignment… It sounded long, complex, and potentially permanent. She shivered at the idea.

And of course It had to be those two. Out of all the shinobi in the Village. 

She couldn’t escape Kakashi in Anbu, but now… being on the same team together around the clock. There wasn’t anything more torturous than this.

And Shikaku, her heart rate picked up at the thought of him. Admittedly, she did have some feelings about him that were less than proper. They were just thoughts, mere fantasy. Perhaps she had spent one too many nights in the bar with him, heads inclined towards each other over a shogi board. These thoughts weaseled into her mind every time she happened upon the single older man. Her body betrayed her, transforming her into a flustered fool in his presence. She could barely form a coherent thought around him, much less focus on a mission like this.

She focused her energy on getting as far away from the building as possible. Prior to even stepping out of the premises she had begun collecting chakra in her legs, not caring what little she had remaining, preparing to yet again take off in a flash.

An exceptionally fast hand jutted out grabbing the small of her arm before she could pounce. Turning around she saw Kakashi tilting his head giving her another close-eyed smile. “Now where are you going… chicken.”

Rage flashed in Mirai’s eyes as she forcefully shook off his hand.

 “None of your business, rat.” She spit at him through clenched teeth.

“Actually, it is specifically my business, the Hokage said so. Unless, of course, you wanted to defy his orders?” He stated, tapping his finger to his chin. 

Mirai seethed as fire erupted behind her eyes. She hated being in his presence, he was the epitome of what she loathed in a person. All of the past years of disparaging comments had done their job of getting under her skin. That is now where he lived. Her rage was fully stoked and ready to combust.

The air crackled around her, chakra surged from its shallow reserves. Mission be damned, she was going to make him pay. She took a step forward, ready to leave a crater where he stood.

However, she found her body not willing to cooperate, frozen on her first step forward. Her eyes managed to glance down to witness cool tendrils of black wrapping around her arms and legs. She shivered at the thought of who was behind that particular jutsu. Her head was locked in place, forced to look at a very amused Kakashi standing cross-armed in front of her.

“That’s enough.” Shikaku’s deep voice came from somewhere behind her. “What a bother, you two can’t get along for five minutes.” 

Mirai listened as he released the shadow jutsu that was binding her movements. Her stance immediately slackened, arms falling limp to her sides. It was an oddly pleasant sensation, being wrapped up by his shadows. Not something that she could focus on at the moment, but something to chew on overnight. Her chest continued to rise and fell erratically, unable to see anything other than Kakashi’s smug face. 

Shikaku took a few steps forward, cutting off her sight line.

“Listen, both of you… There is no way to get around this mission. We have been assigned for duty, and that is the end of the story. All of us are just going to have to learn to deal with it.” She could tell he was trying to be cordial, to act as the mediator between the troublesome pair, but his bored tone told another story. He wasn’t excited for this either.

“Let’s start with a team exercise -  Say something about yourself that is true to everyone standing here as well.” 

Mirai and Kakashi stared dumbly at the man. What were we genin? This was ridiculous.

“Okay - I’ll go first.” Shikaku sighed. 

“We would all rather be doing a thousand other things than to be in each other’s presence right now.” Kakashi and Mirai quickly nodded their heads. Mirai thought back to the pile of bones on her operating table, yearning for more testing, more advancements.

“Personally, I would rather be subjected to an hour of the interrogation team’s torture chamber than play babysitter to you two.” Shikaku tagged on. Babysitter … the words echoed in her mind. Oh god, he thought of her as a child. Kakashi was going to pay for this.

Shikaku raised his eyebrows waiting for the next truth to be spoken.

Kakashi sighed “The idea of a three-man, leaderless squad is something that would potentially benefit the shinobi world. We have all seen lots of comrades lost without their commander to lead them.” Mirai bobbed her head dismally. She looked to Shikaku who was doing the same, a far away look in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow, as the two glanced over at Mirai. She raked her brain for things they had had in common. Resentment, loss, tragedy, all things that shinobi inevitably encountered. All she could think of was the negatives, the pain associated with being a ninja. What drove a ninja forward, instead of the things holding them back?

“We all care about Konoha, both our way of life, as well as everyone in it. We would do everything in our power to protect it.” Mirai blurted. 

She did love Konoha, it was where her family was from, where they could have had a happy life. Even though that dream was thoroughly shattered now, it didn’t mean that it lessened every other family’s dreams and wishes of doing the same. Mirai would like to think all of her fellow shinobi shared this ideal, that this is what they were working towards, what they are protecting, even if they aren’t able to pursue that for themselves.

Many ninja chose to lead a lonely life, not having the time, nor the ability to settle down with a family. Perhaps it was the trauma, the frequent hardships and loss that kept them from doing so. Opening yourself up to love, even to friendship, oftentimes this only ended in tragedy.

So what’s the point?

Looking at the two men in front of her, she recognized that they shared in the pain that this life thrust upon them. They were both so broken, just like her. Alone, just like her. What did they want? She thought. To be whole , something deep inside her whispered. 

Shikaku and Kakashi gazed at her earnestly, before both nodding in tandem to her original question. They both loved Konoha, their home.

“There, now that’s a step - common ground. Step two will be getting our asses to the training yard at five AM sharp tomorrow morning.” Mirai and Kakashi groaned at Shikaku’s idea.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t supposed to be our leader. That sure sounds like an order” Mirai challenged. Her arms felt weird and languid after the shadow possession, but she still managed to cross them in front of her chest. Kakashi nodded to her left. She was horrified that they were agreeing on something, maybe the exercise had served its purpose.

“No, but until you two can learn to stop trying to kill one other, speaking from a tactical perspective, this will be our best approach to working things out. You need to fight, until you can’t anymore.” Shikaku gave an intimidating smile. “See you tomorrow.” They watched as he gave a short wave then disappeared down a nearby alley.

Kakashi and Mirai looked at each other in a wordless argument. They each must have decided it wasn’t worth it today, as they both turned on their heels, headed opposite sides of the village. However, that still didn’t feel far enough for Mirai.

Chapter Text

Back at home Mirai had a restless night, full of scattered thoughts of her past and painful realizations of her future. It wasn’t often that she let these memories claw their way to the surface, but when they did she was left raw and hurting for weeks.

Her parents… What would they think of the new squad formation? Would it have saved them? She rubbed her temples, sitting up in bed. 

In the harsh climate of the Sand they had faltered, failing to come to a unified decision quick enough. A simple mistake? Or fundamentally something wrong with the shinobi approach? Mirai had entombed this topic deep within her, never expecting she would be involved in a mission to examine and mend their failures. It was uncomfortable having it drug up, to say the least. She tasted the familiar anger and resentment that coated her mouth whenever her mind drifted to them.

Mirai sucked in a painful breath. She’d had twelve years to process their loss, however there was little time to grieve. Yuuto, her little brother, was only four when their parents had been killed, she herself had been seven. They had been left alone.

Glancing over at her nightstand, she blinked her eyes at the time displayed on her alarm clock. Two AM already? She swore she had just laid down. She sighed into her hands, letting her fingers rub circles in her eyes until she saw black stars in her vision. Sleep would be pointless at this point.

Coffee was a bandaid for a weary soul, right? She trudged to her kitchen and turned on the machine, letting the steam warm her chilled hands. What a luxury , she thought, a pang of guilt running through her chest. After spending most of their formative years in the orphanage, her and her younger brother weren’t accustomed to such creature comforts. 

___________________________________________________________________

With her parents gone, her priorities shifted to exclusively providing for Yuuto. She had made a list of what she needed to do: 1. Get money. 2. Get out of the orphanage. 3. Ensure Yuuto doesn’t need to worry.

While living off of scraps in their temporary home, she enrolled in the ninja academy. Her parents had intended for her to follow in their footsteps, so she had a modicum of training. Additionally, the missions were the most lucrative source of income in the long-term. Things were simpler at that time, or at least, not complicated, because only necessity drove her. She excelled in school, took each mission, and saved every damn ryo she could scrounge up.

Yuuto was strong, holding Mirai up, just as much as she was supporting him. The two found strength in each other, navigating through their loss as well as they could manage. It was bittersweet, thinking back to their evenings together with a rare treat of takoyaki to share between themselves. Oddly enough, she didn’t remember ever being as happy as she was at that moment.

After six years of tirelessly working, her goal had nearly been in reach. There was almost enough money in their bank account to afford their bare essentials and a few months of rent at a shabby apartment down the street. She just needed to get one more promotion to Chunin, and everything would fall into place for them. They could almost taste the life that they had been chasing.

Then the nine-tailed fox struck.

Just a month before Chunin exams, everything had seemed like any other normal slow day in the Leaf. Mirai had been summoned a week prior to a mission in The Hidden Rain, one of her first out of Konoha. Selfishly, she had been excited for the new experience, to get some time away from The Leaf. The word of the attack had reached their squad while out collecting intel, leaving a pit in their stomachs. They had rushed back as quickly as possible, only to witness the devastating aftermath. Buildings destroyed, homes burnt down, bodies in the street; It was chaos. Mirai had immediately bolted to the orphanage, their home, only to see a pile of rubble remaining.

The scream of grief that left her was pure anguish, mirrored and amplified by hundreds of other villagers that day. She had torn through the fiery wreckage, seeking any minute signs of life. She didn’t feel the burns on her hands, nor the smoke in her lungs. It was just desperation that consumed her, an overwhelming need to find her brother. After hours, she did locate his body, only recognizable by the charred ninja headband he had made himself.

It had been a complete loss, all children and staff had perished, as well with many others in the village. The life she had sought drifted away in the floating ashes that day, leaving only a shell of what she once was. The years that followed haunted her.

Drifting from mission to mission, she found her normal training regime awaiting her. However, she realized the limits she had previously imposed on herself were pathetic . Stopping when you bled, ceasing when you were tired or out of chakra. These were causalities to her current position. That’s how her parents had died. That’s how she had failed to protect Yuuto. The thought that someone better would have saved them , drove her forward.

The Hokage had requested her to join Anbu shortly after, hoping it would give her a new sense of purpose. It had at least given her a routine to follow. Training day in and day out, she didn’t let herself think about the senseless tragedy that had befell her. She didn’t lose herself to the rage that threatened to take her over, nor the misery that consumed her. No, the physical agony was the only thing that made her recognize she still existed in this plane and that she didn’t perish with her relatives. 

She latched onto that, drinking in the pain until that was what consumed her entirely. As she continued her physical torture, she felt her body harden and her nerve endings deaden. Her tolerance for the pain grew until she felt like nothing could make her feel at all anymore. 

She had become steel, though and through. People looked at her and saw nothing of the weak girl that had lost her family. They only saw a killing machine, someone to fear.

It’s better this way, she told herself - simpler .

She felt hollow, like a machine without a primary directive. That was until she discovered her purpose in the form of some lonely skeletons in the woods.

______________________________________________________________________

She stepped over to her kitchen window, gazing downhill from the back of the mountain. There towered three stones, her parent’s and Yuuto’s graves. A year ago, she had requested the Hokage for permission to excavate them and bring them on her property, under the guise of “spiritual reasons.” He did gaze at her curiously, but didn’t pry further than that.

She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, what her ultimate goal was. However, the skeletons literally in her closet were evidence. Maybe one day she could bring them back, to give them a second chance.

Beeping from her coffee machine made her jump out of her skin. She looked down where her fingers were gripping the countertop’s edge. Prying them off she wrapped them around her coffee mug, taking a sip. She was sad to say that it now tasted of dirt.

Fuck it.

She tossed the cup and changed into her training uniform. Might as well get a head start. It was going to be a long morning.

______________________________________________________________________

Mirai arrived to the third training ground at about two thirty AM. Stark moonlight fell on three beat up stumps in the middle of the wide clearing. The landscape was still, apart from the bubbling river nearby. The trees around her were devoid of the usual flocks of birds that populated Konoha.

Even they weren’t up this early.

As she slid down the middle stump to sit, her hands ran over the many grooves and notches in the post. She hadn’t been here before, her Jonin sensei having preferred the fifth and sixth training yards. Even with this, being here where so many Genin throw their first kunai, she was reminded of those childhood memories. 

It was like a pang to her heart.

Mirai had thought she was steel, untouchable through the walls she had built up around her. She now realized that it was foolish to think that this kind of grief could simply be killed. It had been buried down in a deep cavern deep within her. So deep, she thought unreachable.

However, that cavern was now flooding. A trickle at first, but now full on tidal waves had consumed her. Gone was the mechanical Anbu agent that could take beating after beating without breaking. Hardened, untouchable, the perfect Shinobi.

No, after meeting him, the copy ninja, her perfect mask had been cracked.

Irritation and rage had been her downfall. Those negative feelings seemed fine at first, but it paved the way for other pesky emotions. Frustration, vindictiveness, and - scariest of all - grief, had worked its way into her emotional state of mind.

She had tried to close herself, tried to get separation for anyone or anything causing her to feel this way. But now, this assignment. It was going to kill her.

She forced her eyes shut and focused on stretching her body, preparing what was sure to be a challenging day. Sparring in Anbu was difficult enough, but she had a certain feeling that Shikaku was going to run Kakashi and her down to the bone.

Not that she’d normally mind a certain shadow-wielding ninja to work her over. She sighed, chuckling lightly to herself.

She had told herself that her feelings were harmless, nothing she’d ever act on. But something to, let’s say, inspire her over some long nights. Her studies and her work consumed her life. Personal relationships outside of the strictly professional were strictly forbidden, a self-imposed rule. Relationships like that would lead to feelings, and that would just be a deterrence from what truly mattered - her work and her studies. But Shikaku, whew , it was fun to dream.

Laid back in the damp grass, her arms reached far above her head, back arching slightly away from the solid Earth beneath her. The breeze caressed her body gently, chest rising and falling in tune with the nature around her. Laying here, it felt like floating. The problems and the worries drifted away from her tired soul, she felt a bit lighter.

A thump sounding from over her made her crack one of her eyes open “And why they selected you for to lead covert operations… I’ll never know.” 

And there went her fleeting moment of respite.

Both of her eyes popped open to behold Kakashi sitting cross-legged on the stump above her. His head rested in his right hand, a bored expression displayed on his face as he gazed down at Mirai.

Mirai sighed, shooting daggers towards the silver haired ninja. “What are you doing here?” The well of ire that she reserved specifically for Kakashi was lying somewhat dormant due to her lack of sleep and heavy thoughts. She wasn’t as quick with some of her comebacks as normal.

“Training, obviously.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, go do it somewhere else. I got here first and I want to prepare before Shikaku arrives.” Mirai sat up from her position on the ground, tugging on her combat gloves roughly. Stupid Kakashi interrupting her peace and quiet.

Kakashi hopped down from his position on the wooden post to loom over Mirai as she sat on the ground. “And how are you so sure that you did get here first? You clearly didn’t notice me arrive, maybe I was here before you, watching you - You do have the observational skills of an armadillo, so how would you even know?”

Mirai scoffed, furrowing her brows, “I absolutely do not! On missions I-“ 

He cut her off, “Exactly… on missions. You need to maintain your focus perpetually. The enemy is not going to wait until you’re clocked in,” he chastised as Mirai’s mouth clicked closed.

A thousand stories had jumped to the front of her mind, countless times that she had saved Kakashi - deflecting projectiles that would have sliced him open, preventing him from setting off a chain of paper bombs that would have blown up their entire team. But his comment had her hesitating, when she thought about it he was frustratingly right. In every single occurrence that Mirai was the savior, she was on duty, far away from the village.

On the opposite hand, she recalled the times that Kakashi had come to her “rescue.”

It was all silly happenstances, she had told herself. When Mirai was just eight, their neighbor’s vicious dog had escaped from their home, Kakashi was there to snare it in a trap. At ten, he had been there to pull her out of a rushing stream when she had jumped in to save a drowning cat. Of course, he had saved them both. Even when Mirai was thirteen, walking home in a dark alley Kakashi had knocked out a drunkard that had been pursuing her.

 “I could’ve handled that,” she always told him. “Sure,” he’d reply in an all-too-casual tone.

It was infuriating how he always happened to be there to make her look foolish. Of course other people noticed too - noticed how he would always be there to save the poor Fujiharu girl. Though, people didn’t notice the sly gleam in his eyes when he was standing over her as her supposed hero.

Her head ached, she had vowed to not let him get the best of her any longer. However, here she sat. She had failed to notice Kakashi lurking in the Hokage’s office, and now in the training field. He wouldn’t let her live her mistakes down like a sane person. No, he thrived on them. ‘ The observational skills of an armadillo. ’ His comments made Mirai shrink within herself, questioning all the work she has done to get to this point.

Maybe she had begun to let her guard down in the leaf village; It was her home, it was secure. Perhaps, she had started to let her senses slip, too caught up in her head. It was wrong of her to feel safe, safety was something for the weak, the unguarded, and that was not who she was any longer.

Mirai stood up from her spot on the ground, stilling her shaking hands. She refused to let him look down on her. Even though she felt her rage and hatred pouring from her eyes, he stood there unfazed. Casual aloofness radiated from him, rousing the irritation she felt. Reading his expressions had become a personal talent for her, basing her guesses off of the thirty percent of his face that was shown.

She had never seen his face unmasked before, but had heard her fellow Anbu members speculate about how handsome he was under there. Some of the most desperate kunoichi had spent many afternoons staking out the Anbu locker rooms to try to catch a glimpse of him, but the mask seemed glued to his skin. Mirai figured he was probably insecure about some buck teeth and fish lips.

That’s what she had angrily pictured, glaring up at his masked face, now.

“Listen - I’m not here to make you mad,” he put up his arms in mock surrender, “We’re teammates remember? I want to help you improve your skills...” Mirai scoffed at his words. He was definitely up to something, the tone in his voice hinting at another one of Kakashi’s delinquent stunts.

Reaching behind his back he pulled out three kunai, holding them up between his fingers. “How about some target practice? I will give you three tries to hit me.” 

She didn’t need to be told twice, Mirai reached to grab for the blades.

He wrenched his hands back, “Woah there eager… there’s a catch.” He grabbed Mirai’s left hand flipping it over, placing the cool metal in her palm. Her brows furrowed suspiciously at him.

“You must keep your eyes closed. Rely on your other senses. Your hearing, smell, taste, to find me. When you miss, I will tell you, and then I am allowed to move three steps in any direction and you try again. Deal?”

“Taste?” She scoffed. “How would I locate you using taste?”

“I can show you if you’d like.” He grabbed Mirai’s right hand, bringing it up to his face.  

“If focused and practiced, you can taste a person on air alone. First you need to have a lick to understand a person’s essence. You’d be surprised how sensitive a shinobi’s palate is, if they focus their chakra to their tongue.” He moved his other hand to pull down his mask.

She yanked her hand from his grasp. “Nope! That’s enough of that. Let’s just focus on stabbing, okay?” She felt her cheeks turning pink at his comment. You really walked into that one Mirai, get your head together , she told herself, mentally hitting her brain with an iron hammer.

“If you insist. One more thing…” his arms slowly and carefully reached around her face. Trapped between his arms, she stood frozen to the spot, her eyes wide. Their faces were mere inches away from each other. Her skin was hot, burning where his fingers trailed, brushing past her ears to the back of her head.

“Wh.. what-“ she tried to ask, frustrated at the octave her voice came out.

“Sh,” He replied, cutting off her words. His eyes were focused on her face, still looking smug as ever.

Had they been this close before? She didn’t remember the last time that someone had been brave enough to invade her space like this, let alone touch her outside of training. The beat of her pulse hammered in her ears. Her eyes tried to find anywhere to look but his gaze, but suddenly she didn’t have to worry about where to seat her eyes anymore as the world went dark around her.

“I’d be foolish to not take you for a cheater.” He tugged and re-tied the band of her ninja headband around her eyes. “Okay, now you’re as blind as a bat.” 

Mirai found herself wanting to smile at his reference to her Anbu mask, she bit her cheek until she tasted blood to refrain. She blamed her physical response on her lack of sleep. Yes, that was it, a good nights sleep would help to clear her mind. Maybe she could jump in the freezing water nearby to wake her up.

“Okay, I’m taking the first position,” he said in a sing-song voice, his warm breath fanning her face, far too close for her comfort. A refreshing gust of wind on her face cooled her burning cheeks, as Kakashi leapt away. Good, a bit of clarity from his irritating presence.

“Ok, try to get me.” He said tauntingly.

Her ears twitched to her left, maybe around seven o’clock from her current position. One kunai left her hands, sailing quickly towards where she had heard his voice. Expecting the sick sound of flesh ripping, her pulse quickened. She pictured it going to Kakashi’s leg where she had anticipated sending it, hopefully taking him out of commission for a few days.

However, no sound came.

“Disappointing, not even close. I thought you wanted to kill me yesterday? ” Kakashi taunted. Mirai felt her face turn red in anger as Kakashi’s voice rang out, “Second try.”

Darn, she felt like that was right on, but listening to his second call, maybe it was a couple of degrees over. Her ears twitched as she heard the faint sound of three light steps… to the right she determined.

She channeled chakra to her ears, tuning into the sounds around her. It was difficult, the stupid babbling river sounded like a roaring waterfall in her sensitive ears. Shutting her eyes, even behind the blindfold, she focused on the quietness of the dark, letting her breaths fall even. She needed to filter out the noises around her - The rushing water was first; then the rustle of wind in the trees; her heartbeat; the blood rushing through her veins. With the sounds around her smothered, she was able to hear… something. Was it breathing? A slight rustling of clothes perhaps?

She threw the kunai in the direction her ears were pointing to. A wooden thud sounded from the tree line to the North-East.

Mirai heard Kakashi’s deadpan voice, “I think you actually just killed a squirrel.” Her face turned purple. “Last try,” he mocked in a sing-song voice.

She had been closer in her attempt, but still off. Three more steps reverberated from the direction near his voice. It was difficult to pinpoint the distance, but he sounded considerably closer, maybe ten feet.

Maybe she’d have more luck with her nose. She inhaled deeply, channeling chakra to her nose, breathing in the landscape around her. A slightly sweet, earthy scent wafted to her, it came from the grass undulating in the wind. The nearby river carried the smell of petrichor where it met the dry bank, one of her favorites, at least it used to be.

As another breeze graced her face, she caught the scent of something balmier than the neutral green scents surrounding the area. An ambrette scent with a hint of vetiver warmed her blood. Latching on to it, she found it to be muskier, and a bit oppressive, almost stifling.

Could this be what Kakashi smelt like? She hadn’t exactly been sniffing him in their missions, but she thought he did always smell somewhat warm. But this smell, with her nose focused and sensitivity turned up with her chakra, it felt like sniffing a molten inferno, burning a path from her nose to her bloodstream. It wasn’t a smell of fire necessarily, but a woody spice with a hint of pear and leather. It made her mouth water nervously.

Mirai turned her body, aiming her last kunai where the glorious scent was the strongest. Switching back to her ears, suspicious silence radiated from the area. There were no obvious sounds of breathing or clothing rustling, it felt like even the grass wasn’t rubbing up against each other in this area. She furrowed her brows. Was he concealing himself with a jutsu? That lying weasel . She parted her mouth slightly, letting out an anticipatory exhale. 

Steady -  this was it, it had to be him. She was going to get him.

With lungs devoid of air, she launched the kunai from her hand, quick and fast. It sailed away towards her target. She was confident that it was going to strike him this time. She had aimed it at his legs again, expecting and hoping to at least graze his thigh.

However, she only heard a loud ting of metal on metal.

“Are you kidding me?!” She yelled, ripping her blindfold off, “You deflected my attack?!” It took a second for her rageful, twitching eyes to get adjusted to the night again. Once they did, she was dumbfounded to not find Kakashi where she thought he would be standing, only eyeing her thrown kunai that sat buried in the earth.

Warmth emanated from behind her, as her awareness pricked. “ Obviously . What did you think? That I was just going to let you stab me?” Contemptuous indifference dripped from his tone. It was the final straw for Mirai.

She whipped around, pulling her own kunai from her pack. “You cheated . You obscured your sounds with my presence-masking jutsu that you copied!” It had taken her too long to realize that he would pull something like this. 

She had created the justu a few months ago by creating a sealed chakra bubble around herself, masking her sound and smell entirely, even to gifted sensory ninja. After practice, Mirai was only able to hold it for about thirty seconds before the bubble wavered. Of course, in testing it within a battle with Kakashi, he had copied it immediately. She didn’t know when he was going to use it against her, but looks like today had been the unlucky day.

She thrust her blade up towards his chin, the tip of her blade almost landing where she had wanted to bury it. Kakashi’s grip stopped the trajectory of her hand with his own. His fingers wound tight around her wrist, as the two locked eyes with each other; she looked like a crazed lunatic, while it looked like Kakashi was grinning underneath his mask.

“Number one, it wasn’t against the rules.” He spun Mirai, pinning her wrist against her back, forcing her to drop her kunai.

He shoved her roughly against the wooden pylon, the bark digging into the front of her shoulder. “Number two, don’t trust anyone at face value. That needs to be earned.” His voice was slightly rougher, like he was forcefully trying to impart some grand lesson on her. 

To Mirai it sounded a lot like nagging. 

She looped her foot around the back of the knee, then sent her head back in an attempt to headbutt him. It didn’t land, but her leg did trip him, sending his back horizontally sailing towards the ground. As he careened, Mirai spun in her stance, sending a roundhouse kick to his chest, increasing the force ten-fold in which he would hit the ground. When an oof resonated from his lips, she smiled as she realized she had got him. That would teach the idiot.

As she went to take a step away, a hand darted out and gripped her ankle, tugging her legs out from under her. The blue of the night sky came into her view as she landed on her back, air expelling from her mouth. Peering down at where her ankle now burned, she saw Kakashi laid on his back staring up at her. His standard cool expression had burned away, leaving his eyes stern with ferocity.

Mirai grabbed the last kunai from her pack. In one motion she sat up and stabbed down towards Kakashi’s offending hand. He was forced to release her, to avoid the arc of her blade.

However, the relief was only immediate as he then crouched back and lunged at Mirai’s upper body. With a grunt, the two went sailing in a tumbleweed of arms and limbs. Punches and kicks were traded back and forth in a messy tangle, unsure of where exactly they were hitting each other. 

Mirai landed on her back, with Kakashi’s legs pinning her frame on the edge of the river bank. Water rushed around her ears, as her braids dipped into the freezing stream behind her. She had taken hold of his jacket in the struggle, her hands clutching the green pockets on his utility vest. Kakashi’s hands had yet again grabbed her wrists, trying to tug her steel grip off. Their breaths were heavy and their eyes were locked in a silent argument. 

His icy eyes promised that he would hold her head under the water until she squirmed. Her rageful gaze promised that he would be thrown in the water before he got a chance. In the stillness of the moment, her heart raced, her adrenaline pumping. It was only natural that, in this position, her mind would drift.

Her body tingled where his hips pinned hers. She glanced down at where the two were connected, she could imagine an entirely different circumstance where they might be in this position. Her face flushed, hopefully Kakashi would think it was due to the physical exertion. She wished that maybe he would hold her head underwater, save her from the embarrassment of her current position, and cool off her body that felt like molten. That was a mistake . The thought of him holding her underneath had her burning even hotter than before. What is wrong with me? She asked herself.

A barely audible gasp escaped her mouth, as a slight shift in movement sent a wave of heat to her body. Her knuckles turned white where she held him in place. Kakashi’s eye darted to her open mouth, then traveled slowly down her body. Fire burned in the path of his eyes. Mirai swore she felt his breaths deepen, or was that just her hands shaking on his vest?

At some point her death grip on his jacket had loosened, instead of holding him in place, she was grasping him tighter to herself. It felt as if Kakashi’s hold on her wrists weren’t trying to pry her hands off of him, but just capture her hands as his thighs tightened around her hips.

Before they could do something ridiculously stupid, a nearby twig snapping had their heads shooting to the right. Neither of them moved from their position, their instincts demanding that they stay as still as possible, their heavy breathing immediately ceased.

A shadowy figure stepped out of the tree line, “Ah! You two are getting along better than I had thought. I knew this was a good plan.” Shikaku stood there with a mischievous smirk on his face.

Mirai took the opportunity to buck her hips, Kakashi’s grip slipping from her wrists at the moment of distraction. Mirai pushed him off, into the air, sending his body sailing towards the middle of the icy river. A splash sounded from behind her as she sat up from her spot, trying desperately to clear the blush from her face. Finding that her legs now worked, she stood up and turned around behind her to see a drenched Kakashi, his face contorted into a mask of icy rage.

“Ready to start our lesson Shikaku?” Mirai said turning on her heels, the corners of her mouth crawled up. She was counting this as a win in her book.

Chapter Text

Shikaku had shown up an hour early to training. It was a surprise, as punctual was not normally a word she would use to describe the man. Lazy, sure. Timely, never. Beguiling, always.

Mirai had observed him from behind her Anbu mask on many occasions when The Hokage would call him into the office for consultations. He would always stroll in with a far-too-casual attitude, smelling of fresh tobacco and pine needles. Hiruzen never seemed to mind, actually Mirai suspected that he would summon Shikaku fifteen minutes earlier than expected to counteract his usual lateness. Guess it pays to be a genius.

But, of course, he had shown up early to this morning’s training. Was it eagerness? Or perhaps the bar keep had just kicked him out at closing time. Looking at him, Mirai thought she spotted a bit of pink on his cheek, hinting at his potential inebriation.

You know what? It was perfect timing. It was clear someone was out to make this week her living Hell. Why not have him show up at the most inopportune time, while in the most culpable position with Kakashi? What was she thinking? More-so, what was her body thinking?

Panic ensued as she registered that Shikaku was standing ten feet away, witnessing how Kakashi had her pinned to the ground - or was Mirai holding him to her? Honestly she wasn’t sure, but her body had nevertheless reacted instantaneously, bucking him off into the cold rushing river behind her.

As she shot up from the ground, her two braids swung behind her back dripping cold water down her legs. It was a stark juxtaposition to the warmth painting her cheeks. She tried to play it off, dusting a mess of grass and dirt off of her pants. “Ready to start our lesson Shikaku?”

A slosh of water sounded behind her, as she turned around to witness Kakashi crawling out of the river bank. The smile that worked its way onto her face was down right rapturous. His appearance was akin to that of a drowned rat, his usually gravity-defying hair hung down, dripping wet. The cool, seething expression that radiated from him fed a hungry part of Mirai’s soul, one that had been starved of retribution after his constant teasing.

“Ah Kakashi! A little early for a swim, no?” Shikaku shouted from the forest’s edge. Definitely a little drunk, Mirai presumed.

Kakashi didn’t reply as he took a few long, sodden strides in the direction of Mirai. His rage was ice cold in comparison to the burning furor that Mirai usually felt within herself. She despised comparing herself to him, but couldn’t control her mind doing so. His face wasn’t red with the need to spew a thousand hateful words. Nor was his chest heaving up and down with the feeling like he was going to combust from the inside. No, frustratingly, he was the same cool Anbu agent that Mirai had grown to loathe, perhaps with a slightly more frigid exterior. The corners of her mouth fell down.

She knew bits and pieces of his history, Hell the whole leaf village knew of the “disgraced” white fang, his father. She knew he had lost his team members, his leader. He was alone, more-or-less, just like her. So why is it that he insisted on baiting her time and time again? On inciting the frenzied beast that made its home within the walls Mirai had built up? If anyone should understand, it’s him. But no, his stolid mask was impenetrable, rock solid, taunting her incessantly.

Her gaze was fixed on Kakashi as his steps didn’t slow. His posture was rigid, and his eyes surprisingly shone with a fierceness she hadn’t seen before. Anger, finally, his gaze matched hers.

Mirai bent her knees and crossed her arms in front of her, taking a defensive position. 

Whatever attack he was going to hit her with would hurt. He took another step. Did he have time to activate his chidori? 

Maybe a nasty genjutsu that would leave her down for a few days? She could counter him, especially with such an obvious frontal attack. He was hitting his stride as he neared her.

Mirai was shocked and a little proud of herself that she was able to get such a rise out of him. He didn’t seem to be thinking strategically, or really at all. 

Close enough to trade breaths, Kakashi stopped in front of her, glaring down like he hadn’t ever seen any creature more personally insulting. It was similar to the chiding expressions he had thrown at her on many a mission. But this time it was laced with something sharper, more lethal. At this proximity, Mirai could see it clearly now.

The hatred.

At the realization, she wiped the shocked expression off of her face, and matched the burning look in his eyes with her own.

Guessing he didn’t like the position the two of us were in when Shikaku walked out. Good, it was a mistake, clearly on both parts.

A few too many breaths passed with the tense atmosphere almost reaching a level that was stifling.

What was he waiting for? The river continued to rush behind him, in contrast to his eerily still, unblinking position. He looked as if he was now contemplating something - a method of attack perhaps?

Mirai had learned her lesson with him many times about acting too rashly. It was best to let the enemy attack first, then gauge your retaliation appropriately. Rushing into battle always ends up with a bruised ego, and Kakashi standing looking down on you, condemning your “idiotic” behavior. Staring up at him now, Mirai was not going to let him catch her off guard.

Her eyes tracked his hands as he slowly reached into his hair - and shook. Cold mist wet her face, each rivulet searing off of her skin. Shock and anger surged through her once more. 

The unbelievable, infuriating, childish ninja shook like a dog in front of her.

Through the mess of hair and the spray of water, a hint of an arrogant smirk shone through his damp mask, replacing his once vitriolic demeanor.

Ringing sounded in her ears. Did he think she was a child to be played with? Someone who would think this display of disrespect was funny or entertaining? A ticking appeared in her jaw. She wanted to break his smirk, shove his face into the ground until that cool mask he wore shattered. 

Kakashi caught himself as he was shoved back a few feet by a ninja on a warpath. However, he wasn’t discouraged, instead he let out an excited exhale.

Somewhere from the shadows Shikaku laughed.

______________________________________________________________________

The morning sun rose, burning bright to the zenith in the sky. Birds had awoken, probably early, thanks to the mayhem that still went unabated from dawn.

A few innocent ninja had passed by the training post, drawn to the sounds of catastrophe that were originating from the Third Training Ground. Evident concern, and perhaps a bit of horror, was displayed on their faces as they beheld the overt destruction that Mirai and Kakashi were actively causing.

Craters the size of a small pool dented the yard’s surface like Swiss cheese. A few distinctly person-sized holes peppered the Earth, like someone had burrowed down and burst out like an angry mole. What looked like lightning strikes had formed an arced grid of burnt grass. A gray haze filled the air thanks to smoke from a burning bush ignited from a rogue fireball. A war was raged here, one that had been teased for far too long.

At the center of the calamity stood the sources, both were bruised, bloody, and battered. 

Mirai was favoring her right leg, her left was painted a deep red, leaking from a festering wound on her thigh. An angry welt had begun to appear at her top right temple, it would surely turn deep blue within a few hours. 

It was hard to say if Kakashi looked better or worse. His left sleeve had been burned away, up to his shoulder, charred burns graced his fingertips. His normally hidden eye was out, sharingan active, however looked like it hurt to hold it open. He had suffered a contusion to the area, almost causing it to swell shut.

Both ninja were wheezing, trying desperately to get any air to remain in their lungs as they shared a brief reprieve from their onslaught, one of sheer necessity.

It appeared that pure animalistic ferocity had taken over what was left of their conscience. They didn’t care about the training yard nor the rapt audience they had accrued over the past hours of fighting. Not a word had been uttered between the ninja. Only jutsu after blade after fist was hurled at the other.

Mirai wasn’t exactly sure when she managed to break that holier-than-thou expression he liked to wear around her. Maybe sometime around when she managed to catch his arm in her fiery vortex jutsu. Maybe he realized then, that she was not playing a game.

Now there was no hints of playfulness from either of the two. No room for snide remarks. Their concentration on each other was that of predator and predator, and this was a final battle to see who was on the top of the food chain. Mirai refused to lose.

The chirping sound of chidori penetrated Mirai’s eardrums, the third she had heard that day. Its arcs were far less controlled this time around, the blades of lightning reached out and charred the Earth beneath Kakashi’s feet. His advances toward her were far slower than his first attack, but Mirai was exhausted as well. For a few seconds she just looked onto the blade, her body ached like it never had before. She would not able to dodge it like the others that day.

She had been in survival mode for hours. Trying to eliminate the threat that approached her. Adrenaline forced her body to move.

Must… counter.

A pained gasp exploded as her mind came back into her body. Her reflexes finally cooperated. She widened her stance, shoving a fist into the ground with enough force to create a wall of Earth rippling out from her towards her opponent. The wall rose what must of been forty feet in the air, obstructing her view of Kakashi. The light from his chidori dimmed and the sound of birds faded away.

However, light blasted back through as Kakashi cut through Mirai’s wall, forcing it to crumple to dust. Debris rained down from the sky. The wall had slowed his advances, slightly wearing chidori’s power, but not disrupting it entirely. So Mirai was forced to punch the ground again, and again, and again. The series of walls were continually sliced through by the bright blue lightning blade.

Their repeating collisions formed a heavy cadence, a rhythm that was slowing down gradually as their final wells of energy bottomed out.

Mirai could feel the heat from the lightning, her hair standing up on end. Exhaustion consumed her. No coherent thoughts were in her brain any longer - so tired. Was it instinct guiding her now? Whatever leftover rage she felt? She didn’t feel it right now, she didn’t know what she felt actually. Her eyes lost their focus, as she swayed on her feet.

A hint of the shock of chidori near her face snapped her out of her disjointed state. On her last punch to the ground that she could muster, she found herself not forming another wall, but a pointed spike from the Earth. 

Does he really want to kill you? The sharp tingles you feel on your skin is a promise of that.

Do you want to kill him? The spike you had already formed was answer enough, right?

As the last wall collapsed, she first saw his eyes. Her horror was reflected in his eyes as he noticed the acicular spire sent his direction. 

Mirai felt her heart collapse as she too noticed the blue lightning coming her direction. It was too late to stop either. She could taste metal in her mouth.

Two sets of eyes fluttered closed, accepting their fates. Their rage and anger had burned through them, leaving nothing but corpses behind. A millisecond of time stretched.

Is this when your life flashes in front of your eyes?

The pain - she deserved it, to go out like this. She knew hatred and resentment like an old friend. It greeted her every time she got up in the morning, and followed her to bed. It was a relief, she didn’t deserve to have an easy death. Her family surely didn’t have one. Her parents… Yuuto… She hoped she would not see them again, that they wouldn’t be in whatever condemned afterlife she was sure to be in after killing a comrade.

A comrade… Kakashi. How did we end up here?

Even though Mirai was his personal punching bag, she thought he deserved better than to go out like this. He was always the better ninja, Mirai now realized. He was constantly striving to overcome his family’s past mistakes and trying to restore honor and protect Konoha. It was a lot more respectable than her selfishly chasing a lost childhood by trying to reanimate her loved ones. 

She hoped it would be quick for him, that he wouldn’t feel so much pain in the end.

Speaking of.. The pain. Where is it?

She had expected burning flesh, her nerves to be on fire, but she didn’t feel it. 

Is this death?

Of course not.

Lids opened back up to see chidori fizzle out, and her Earth spike crumble to pieces. Their movements and momentum had frozen in place.

“Well that went further than I expected.”

Shikaku… Unbelievably, Mirai had actually forgotten about him. Forgotten about everything…

His timing… Impeccable as always… Mirai thought grimly.

Shikaku released the shadows of the two warring ninja’s bodies, allowing them to finally collapse in exhaustion. Mirai stared directly into the Sun, cursing its presence. Perhaps she had hoped to not see it rise yet again. Her eyes fluttered closed.