Chapter 2
With the two Uchiha infiltrating their own home, the other two members of Team Ro were left to their own devices.
Tenzou followed Kakashi-senpai carefully as he sat down by the river to fill his water canteen – a perfectly reasonable thing to do, if not for the slow pace with which he was carrying out the task.
“What are we doing, Taichou?” He asked levelly, “Shouldn’t our priority be to provide backup to our members currently in deep cover?”
“You’re underestimating the abilities of the Sharingan.” Kakashi replied, not taking his eyes off the stream, “If we were to go any closer, the clan would grow more suspicious. The best thing we can do is stay away. And maybe attempt to blend in some with the locals.”
“Locals?” Tenzou repeated, feeling off-balance, “… Of this time period?”
Kakashi jerked his shoulders lightly, before bending down to pull out a tiny wooden ball from the river, like a child’s plaything. Except no shinobi’s child would be given a ball when instead a blunt kunai would do. Especially not in this time period, which Danzou-sama had held up as the height of masterfully honed brutality.
“Local civilians.” Kakashi explained, “Upstream. We should return the ball to whichever child dropped it, don’t you think?”
Tenzou thought that that was a brilliant way of getting caught. He did not interact with civilians. Ever. He barely even talked to jonin. He lived for his job, and the only socialization he got was the one necessitated by that job.
Shisui had once insinuated that people scared Tenzou. That wasn’t true. Tenzou wasn’t scared. He was one they should be afraid of.
“Taichou.” He ventured to say, “I do not think that’s wise.”
“You’ve done infiltration missions before.” Kakashi cajoled.
“I haven’t had time to build up a character! It’s not the same!”
Kakashi’s shoulders sagged a little, “Fine. I’ll stake out the place on my own.” He stopped pressing him on it, “But you’ve got to follow and watch. Civilians are nothing to be terrified of.”
“Why does everyone keep saying I’m scared of them?!”
Kakashi pointed at Tenzou’s feet, “You’ve begun rooting yourself to the ground.”
As soon as he had brought attention to it, Tenzou withdrew them, cursing himself out for the misstep even as he began reciting the practiced spiel, “I apologize for the involuntary use of my ability, I did not intend to do it and will accept any-”
“Tenzou, it’s fine.” Kakashi dismissed, “You will follow. Watch from a distance and look for any signs of commotion from the Uchiha base. Do not engage otherwise.”
Tenzou nodded, simple and easy instructions slotting into his mind like a balm. This was an unprecedented situation, and ROOT conditioning produced soldiers that were capable of doing everything except thinking for themselves. Which meant that they did not operate well in unprecedented situations.
But he would follow now. Keep an eye on the signatures of his comrades still stuck in Uchiha territory. Move upstream after Kakashi and continue adjusting his sensing range to keep sensing Crow and Weasel.
At Kakashi had guessed, there was a civilian dwelling not far upstream. If you considered two kilometers to be close. For a ninja, it was a two-minute sprint.
It wasn’t just a farm, as he had initially expected from the husks of rice plants that had been in the river, and the smell of beasts of burden that had been digging into his nose upon coming closer to the river.
There was a full community here, based mostly on farming.
This was good. Hatakes had their roots in farming. Hopefully this part of the Land of Fire was more familiar with that aspect of their clan and not… the other side.
He did a quick transformation, opting to keep his regular face, and just changing his clothing to match the civilians’ he had seen wandering about tending to the fields in the last run before sundown.
There were a few guards posted around the edge of town, holding themselves in a way that suggested ex-shinobi. In his experience, those were always the first to introduce yourself to.
Kakashi took care to approach out of the trees slowly, at a perfectly civilian gait, and to wave brightly at the person, even as they tensed up, “Yo.”
The ex-shinobi inclined their head slightly, but eyebrows were raised, clearly picking up on some oddity in his disguise that Kakashi had overlooked. He was tense as he watched Kakashi.
“How much do you guys charge for a bite to eat?” He asked, as if he had a budget at all.
The ex-shinobi nodded, and then quickly added, “But we don’t really specialize in meat, so there’s nothing for you. Um. Sir.”
What?
He had a dreading feeling he knew what that was about.
“Ah, no matter.” He agreed pleasantly, “Anything will do~”
Now even a few of the people working on the harvest were staring at him, “But… Your hair. Your mannerisms.” A civilian ventured, “You’re from that Wolfman-clan, aren’t you? The Hatake?”
Ah, so they were familiar with the other side.
Kakashi struggled for a few seconds on how to counteract that claim. And then decided to disappear into a Shunshin-powered puff of smoke.
He landed onto the tree where Tenzou was hiding. Back on the field, the woman had begun screaming about being marked by a Shinigami for death. Ah, Tobirama hadn’t invented the Shunshin yet, had he? Whoops.
Tenzou turned to look at him with wide eyes, “Who isn’t scared of civilians now?” He asked with what might almost be called vindication.
Kakashi would have told him to shut up if it weren’t for how damn proud he was of his kouhai. Best not to crush what little spine he had grown.
“What now, Taichou?” Tenzou asked, “Did you gather the data you needed from that excursion?”
Kakashi sighed and nodded, “We’ve found the Uchiha compound, and at least one of the civilian farming communities, along with the paths connected to that farming community. Which means that for a semi-accurate map of the region, the Senju must still be moving around these areas somewhere.”
“Are we going to seek them out?” Tenzou guessed, his voice carefully neutral, but miniscule tells in his body language made his reluctance of the idea clear. Still, his personal opinion on the matter, he was a good shinobi, and he dutiful went along with that train of thought, “It’s a good idea. They’re allied with the Uzumaki, and it was that clan’s seal that brought us here, after all.”
“That hasn’t happened yet.” Kakashi corrected, “The Uzumaki clan only became that close to the Senju after the creation to Konoha. Right now, our best bet would be Senju Tobirama, expertise-wise. He has a better understanding of jutsu than anyone else in history.”
Not that that meant anything, because the only thing more famous than his affinity for jutsu-making was his intense paranoia. Not to mention the timeline implications of it all.
“I was saying that so we could avoid them.” Kakashi explained.
Tenzou’s shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly, “Oh. That’s… also a choice.”
“Retreat back to the perimeter around the Uchiha compound.” Kakashi decided, “Their cover is likely to be blown at some point in the night.”
“How can you predict that?”
Kakashi looked at him carefully, “Tenzou. Even if they blend in perfectly with the others. Someone will realize there’s more people than there is food prepared for the last meal of the day.”
“Ah. Right.”
The sun was dipping low over the horizon as it was. Without the advent of electrical lighting, even shinobi went to bed early unless it was for training or mission requirements. They both began retracing their route up the river.
Itachi had finally located a calendar.
It stated the year to be 153 of something. This did not mean much of anything to him because Konoha kept track of the year based on it’s founding, and never cared to teach the date systems used before.
Shisui gave him an odd look when he complained about it through a tap code on Shisui’s arm, «What’re you talking about? We definitely get taught this in the Academy. Just in case we need to liaison with people who operate outside of Konoha who aren’t as familiar with our dating system. It was only one class in our third year but--» Here, he broke off. Before finally tapping, «Oh, yeah. I forgot.»
Itachi had done the entire Academy in less than a year. Some non-essential curriculum had to have been cut out, his teachers had mentioned to his parents off-handedly. Nothing that couldn’t be filled in by briefings.
«It means six years before the founding of Konoha.» Shisui filled in for him. Itachi nodded his acknowledgment.
It stung to accept correction. Not to his pride, Itachi knew when to set aside his pride to improve as a shinobi who served the village and the Uchiha. But because this kept happening. For all his accolades and rank, he not only fell short of expectations of a shinobi of his caliber, but the expectations put upon anyone his age.
He had fallen behind the curve, and no one had told him.
So maybe it was a little bit of a pride thing.
“Hey, you two! Done with that sorting you were doing?” A clansman poked his head in to ask. Shisui and Itachi looked over at the stack of old unclassified communications that they had taken responsibility for archiving to be allowed to loiter in the records room.
Itachi had had every intention of doing it too. Until he realized that he did not quite know the system the clan was employing in this time period. Father had barely thought fit to teach him the current one, if it weren’t for Mother’s insistence. So they had tried their best using the filing cupboard as their point of reference and put a few of the documents they were confident in not misfiling.
“Um… not yet?” Shisui managed.
The guy shrugged, clearly not bothered by their sluggish pace, “Yeah, well, the nightly meal is being served, so take a break.”
Itachi curled his lip, “Hn.” Food was a reward, to be had after a task was completed. Taking unnecessary breaks was a sign of weakness, his father had taught him.
The clansman looked at him for a moment and then moved on.
Shisui snickered behind his back as the two of them left the records office to search for the food that was being served somewhere in the compound. Itachi signed What? in ANBU one-hand signs at him.
“You totally didn’t see it but his eyes just glazed over when he looked at you. Couldn’t differentiate at all. It was great.” Shisui explained, eyes dancing with mirth.
Itachi nodded and kept walking.
“M-Madara-sama! Welcome back!!” A guard spluttered as he darted to the side, door snapping open as he enhanced his strength a bit too much to push it open.
Madara ground his teeth as he marched down the path, thinking of a thousand curses for whichever fucking prankster thought it was a good idea to pretend to be a Hatake and head down to civilian fields that were their primary food supplier. Now the entire township was in a panic and refusing to sell to ninjas in fear of angering the wolf clan stalking them.
He was sure he had made an official contract that could force them to honor their deal, but while that played out, he would have to warn the others to carefully ration the food. Not a grain should be wasted at any time, but not even slight indulgences could be allowed right now.
Bet Hashirama would never have to deal with such frivolous worries, a bitter part of him thought. Not with his godsent Mokuton.
The fact that he still thought of that boy by the river from almost a decade ago was a matter of great personal failing to him. He should be over it by now. This attachment should not, did not, could not take precedence over his clan.
Focus. There was a supply chain disruption. A contract to make the civilian’s hold up their end of the deal – because jumping to murder after they were already spooked by the threat of another kekkei genkai clan wasn’t going to help matters. Just leave them with fewer farmers.
He murmured a word to one of the clanswomen in charge of keeping track of the supplies and entrusted her to keep an eye on how much was eaten. Then he went to search for the contract.
It should be in the unclassified section of the records office, and he was searching through it before he even registered what he was doing. This happened sometimes. Overuse of the Mangekyo… left him with headaches and a foggy feeling in his mind that he refused to let interfere with his decision-making skills. They were still crystal clear.
Which was why when he looked at the filing drawer for fruit produce trading contracts set up before 17th August 133, only to pull out a vegetable trading contract dated for 25th August 133, he knew immediately that something was wrong.
No one would mess up his filing system. Even if they agreed with Izuna’s claims of it being too convoluted (which had no merit whatsoever), they would still be too afraid of Madara’s wrath.
There was an intruder in the compound.