Derecho

When Genki is born, or rather reborn, it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to figure out where he was.

Honestly, what were all those damn fanfictions worth if they didn’t prepare him for the impossible?

He was three years old, a chubby little toddler with a puff of black hair spiked around his head, and his aunt had set him outside on the porch overlooking a peaceful lake. It was a chilly spring morning and he was wrapped in his favorite deer and leaf printed blanket, relishing in the sunshine and the freedom of being a small child with no responsibilities. Genki had stared out across the still, dark waters of the lake transfixed by the reflection of the sunlight.

It had taken him awhile to realize that the ripples of the waters surface were not from fish, or a wandering deer coming for a drink, but from a person. A teen in fact, lanky and awkward in the midst of a growth spurt and taking shaky, carful steps across the lake’s surface.

The lake’s.

Surface.

Water walking.

Genki wanted to hit himself.

Sure, he’d seen his uncle come and go dressed in an odd, military uniform. Knew, from his aunt and uncles quiet conversations, that both of his parents had died in a mission gone wrong. Was perfectly aware that his uncle came home more often than not splattered in blood, and would spend whole days in the living room sharpening countless blades and brewing a sour, foul smelling liquid he suspected was poison. But, for some reason, he’d never been able to put two and two together.

Water walking, missions gone wrong, a worrying amount of weaponry left well within the reach of curios, grabby children? This could only mean one thing.

Shinobi!

Genki smiled and laughed to himself in the innocent, happy way only children could. But the intentions hiding behind his gummy smile were anything but innocent.

He was scarily excited at the prospect of ninja magic, and impending murder and mayhem.

…

Years pass and Genki lives a relatively normal life for a reborn ninja to be. His aunt, Fuyumi, is his primary caregiver and she’s like a warm ray of sunshine in both temperament and appearance. Gentle, kind, and warm she gave the best hugs and had the kindest smile. Her hair leaned more towards gold than blonde, and her eyes glittered like honey in the morning sun.

She was civilian born, the daughter of Konoha’s best seamstress and owner of the most renown Kimono shop in Fire Country, and honestly Genki has no idea how his uncle bagged her as his wife.

His uncle, Nara Isshin, was a cold, distant man. The longest time he was ever home was no longer than eight days, and then he’d be off on mission for upwards of three months. When he was home he never so much as looked at Genki, kissing his wife in a brief hello before passing out for a few days and then beginning his mission prep. Sure, Genki could admit that perhaps some of the frost thawed from Isshin’s eyes when he looked at his wife, that the distant man lingered for longer by her side when he was home, but that was about it. But none of the minute warmth was for Genki, since the day he’d come to live with his relatives Genki couldn’t remember a single instance of the man even holding him, much less acknowledging his existence.

If Genki were an ordinary child, he thinks he’d be hurt by the mans actions, or lack thereof. But, thankfully, Genki is not normal and he finds the mans actions funny at best, and petty at worst. Indeed, Nara Isshin had made it no secret that he blamed his nephew for the deaths of his sister and brother in law.

How Genki, a then eight month old baby, could be responsible for the deaths of accomplished Jounnin hundreds of miles away, he didn’t know. But, people were rarely ever logical in the face of grief. Preferring to clingto delusion or hiding behind false anger to make themselves feel better.

It had happened to him in the Before, to Taylor Sharp and his lonely, pointless end.

Taylor sharp had been a normal, happy young teen. He’d had friends, a school crush, and a very cringe YouTube channel. Then he’d been hit by a drunk driver on his walk home from school, trapping him in a coma. The coma had been the shittiest part, aware in a distant sort of way but unable to respond, to reach out to his loved ones. By the time Taylor Sharp had died, some three months later, none of his family had visited him weeks. He’d died alone and forgotten, slipping away into the dark.

His family had been so busy blaming each other, they’d forgotten entirely about him. So Genki found it laughably appropriate that his uncle would hold much the same attitude in a whole new life, though this time it’s Genki baring another’s pointless grudge.

He’d taken joy in forcing the man into interacting with him. Climbing all over him when he sat to organize and sharpen his weapons, forcing his uncle to either pull Genki off of himself or let the toddler skewer himself on one of the many, many sharp things in the room. Or, one that never got old, was clambering up the highest piece of furniture he could get to and “falling”. While distant, his uncle wasn’t directly cruel, and rushed to catch him every time.

The man still hadn’t said one word to Genki, and it was honestly surprising how stubborn Isshin was in his pettiness.

Three days after Genki’s sixth birthday his life changes. He’d woken up that morning to the feeling of something being terribly off, and wandering out of his bedroom revealed that his aunt was not up and bustling around the kitchen as she usually was at this hour.

The six year old checked the rest of the rooms in their small house, and finding them empty dared to venture into his aunt and uncles bedroom. Pushing open the door, the bad feeling in Genki’s gut turns into full on dread. His aunt is lying in her bed, scarily still beneath the blue quilts piled on top of her.

Genki doesn’t…really remember what had happened after. Just flashes of panic, fear, the unmistakable scent of a hospital, and the crushing feeling of loneliness.

His aunt is dead, an aneurysm, she died in her sleep.

The next years are…not hard exactly. But definitely difficult. Genki’s uncle turns his distance into true isolation. He never gets physically violent, and he still never speaks a word to Genki, but it’s different now. Isshin only stays in village long enough to see his wife buried, and then he’s off again on missions, but now he’s only home for a day or two before he’s gone again.

Genki finds money left on the counter the mornings after Isshin leaves. It’s never enough to survive on for months, even for just a single child, but Genki holds no reservations about mooching off of his surrounding relatives for food or new clothes.

The perks of living in a clan is that everyone is related, and they all seem to buy into that “family stands together” bullshit.

When he turns nine he walks himself down to the academy and signs himself up, not hesitating to forge his uncles signature on every piece of paperwork.

He meets Hatake Mayu, and Haruno Megumi there, and thinks them funny but mostly just annoying. He doesn’t realize yet just how special they’ll be to him. He grows close to them, and learns that the years of isolation and neglect have affected him more than he realized. Genki finds himself clinging to these other two children, learning how to love again, allowing himself to become attached. Mayu and Megumi are the first people he’s loved since the death of his aunt, and the first people he’s ever spoken to that isn’t a Nara granny.

They’re assigned to Team 18. He pretends to be annoyed, when really he wants to jump for joy.

His uncle, having withdrawn monetary support when Genki joined the academy, truly disappears after graduation. Genki can’t find it in himself to care. When they make chunnin Genki can finally get his own apartment, no co signer needed, and Team 18 holds a house warming party of epic proportions. They even got Haru-sensei to participate, as well as the tenants both on his floor and the floors above and below them. It gets a little out of hand, Anbu showing up when someone gets the bright idea to set off fireworks and someone sets off an emergency flare thinking it’s an explosion.

Genki will remember the dressing down Haru-sensei gave them afterward for the rest of his life, and probably every life after.

Compared to his first life Genki is appallingly, morally compromised, with blood staining his hands, and violence in his blood. But he’s also happier then he ever was, in the Before, as well as before Team 18.

He’s made a family of his own choosing, an eclectic, eccentric, family full of murderers and assassins, and Genki is proud to say that he would give his life for each and every one of them without a moments hesitation.

He was Taylor Sharp, a lonely little boy who died alone and forgotten. He is Nara Genki, and he will never be forgotten again.

_______

“Hokage-sama please!” Anbu Otter, better known as Yamanaka Hoshi, pleads desperately with his Kage. Otter is clinging with all the chakra and physical strength in his body to the Godaime, as the Kage tries to jump from his office windows.

Isao, the summons of the Hokage’s son, had appeared in the office not thirty seconds ago. Relaying a dire message, and sending the Kage into the current rage he’s in now.

Their political squad, which included both of the Hokage’s children, had been attacked by the two S ranked missing nin Akasuna no Sasori, and terrorist bomber Deidara. In the wake of Sasori’s defeat a massive poison bomb had been set off in Suna, flooding the village and poisoning all inside. Presumably the Hokage’s daughter, and councilman Gai as well.

Which leads Otter to his problem now, corralling his Kage into not heralding in a massive political fallout by storming Suna, and slaughtering everyone who got in his way.

Anbu Otter had been selected as the Godaime’s Anbu aid because of his special brand of the Yamanaka clan jutsu. A calming, area of effect technique that forced anyone within a five hundred meter radius to forcibly calm down, and eventually fall asleep if left exposed to it long enough.

It is not working on the Godaime Hokage. If anything every pulse of Otter’s chakra just serves to make the other man angrier.

The Hokage suddenly stills in his arms, causing Hoshi to almost topple over. “Bring me Team Ro. Now.”

He will be having words with Inoichi-sama about his assignment to the Hokage Tower.

…

Sakura nearly slices Pakkun in half when the little pug appears at her elbow, on the bridge railing. The little dog is totally laughing at her internally.

Team 7, after Sasuke’s confrontation with Itachi, had traveled to the nearest town and settled in for some good ol’ fashioned ‘reconciliation’. Well, Naruto and Sakura settled in to entertain themselves for an unknown amount of time, while Sasuke and Itachi did the reconciling. Itachi’s blue friend Kisame had taken off the day before yesterday, and Sakura found herself lounging on the railing of the only bridge in Hurricane Valley village. The village itself was built upon a lone pillar of rock in the center of a fog filled valley, suspending it hundreds of miles above ground. Far below the bridge, but still so far above the ground, dark shapes glided through the fog like wraiths. Charmingly named Valley Vultures, they were a Lightning Country special. Piercing shrieks loud enough to discombobulate a grown adult, before they swooped in to carve up the throats of their victims with nasty talons.

Then Pakkun showed up, and Sakura kissed her days of bored relaxation goodbye.

Tromping down the creaking hall of Cumulonimbus Bed & Breakfast, Naruto dragged behind her with one arm and Pakkun held under the other, Sakura relishes kicking open the terrace door, startling the two seated occupants.

“Pack it up Sasuke! Suna’s been gassed, and our venerable Hokage wants you on scene to treat the victims.” Her smile could cut steel.

The two Uchiha look to each other, a conversation playing out through only shared expressions. Sakura has never been very emotionally perceptive, of herself or others, but she knows a losing argument when she sees one. Sasuke preens when his brother sits back, defeated.

Well, looks like team 7 has a hanger on for the moment.

_______

It’s been three days since the attack on Suna, and Team Ro is Not Having Fun. They’d arrived in the early dawn the day after the attack alongside a small squad of Konoha Medi-nin. With most of the village infrastructure flattened, most of the survivors terribly poisoned, and Suna’s horrid lack of medical care they, and the fifteen Konoha Medi-nin, were stretched thin and just trying to hold out. Waiting for Uchiha Sasuke and his team to arrive from Lightning country, until then the medics worked overtime to keep their patients comfortable, treat what wounded they could, and gather as much data as they could on the poison used.

Sasori really knew how to go out with style, didn’t he?

The Kazekage’s younger brother had acted fast enough to raise both himself and Mayu out of the gas before they’d been hit. Shortly after Temari had wrenched herself from the rubble of her meeting hall to blow the gas away before it lingered too long. The Kazekage, Councilman Gai, and the few Suna council members that had been with them hadn’t suffered too badly from the gas, trapped beneath rubble as they were. Even now their symptoms presented more as a severe flu than a deadly poison, slowly melting your insides. The same luck did not apply to everyone else.

The ones who’d escaped the gas joined the Konoha Relief Squad, and worked double time to care for the poisoned, and if not then to ease their passing as much as they could. The survivors in question included: a school teacher, an elderly couple and their granddaughter, a blacksmith, three council members, the Kazekage, Mayu, Gai, Gaara, Sai, Megumi and the handful of Suna nin that had been with them clearing out the Root Outpost.

Only hundreds of Suna citizens were left, slowly dying in agony. Suna’s small hospital, miraculously still standing, was being used for the children and the elderly, tents were set up for everyone else. Red and white striped tarps fluttering in the arid, desert breeze. They filled the hospital courtyard and spilled out onto the streets, lining the market square. Cots, beds, carpets, pillows, and anything that could be spared or moved easily with only twenty people left moving were squished together to form a haphazard clinic. From beneath swaying tents the stench of death, the groans of the dying, and the sour tang of fear and poison was carried out by dry, hot breezes.

One such tent was set away from the main cluster of the outdoor clinic, tucked into the alley of two mostly standing buildings. This tent contained the Hatake-hime’s Nara teammate, the younger teen having been hit with Sasori’s signature poison. Meaning three days of paralyzed agony and then finally, death.

Once Team Ro had arrived in Suna they’d quickly assumed temporary command of the relief efforts, firmly ushering Mayu and Megumi to Genki’s bedside. The two had been seen outside only sporadically since, with dark circles and even darker eyes.

On the dawn of the third day, with no sign of medical reinforcements arriving, Megumi and Mayu had stepped away entirely to sit beside their teammate in what would probably be his final hours. Joji, the middle Ro, stood guard outside their tent alongside the Kazekage’s younger brother.

He tried to pretend he wasn’t listening, wasn’t holding on to some desperate hope of salvation. So much death in one night, and so much more following the days after, but Joji had foolishly hoped that their Hatake-hime would be spared such a personal death.

Joji should’ve known better, their world was rarely ever kind.

…

Mayu wasted no time in crawling onto the cot beside Genki, folding herself around him gently, trying so hard to grant him any comfort in what must be a sea of only agony. Megumi seated himself on the floor beside the rickety cot, leaning back against it, somber, silent.

“It’s not fair.” Mayu’s voice is hoarse from tears, her face blotchy and eyes puffy.

Megumi reaches up to gently lay a hand over hers, their fingers tangling over Genki’s chest.

It truly isn’t fair, Megumi thinks. Genki, who had once been Tyler Sharp, had died in a coma. Aware of the world around him but unable to even speak, lying in paralyzed darkness as he slowly withered away.

Now here he lies again, paralyzed and slowly withering away.

A Ro-kun, one Megumi actually recognizes as Joji he being the only triplet who bares a facial scar, pulls back the tent flap leaning in quietly. They’d arrived the morning after the attack, detaining the still living Deidara and helping to sort out the sick.

“Hime, Team 7 is en route and will be here by morning. Uchiha Sasuke will be able to treat the Suna citizens.” He speaks and his voice is soft, deepened by age made husky by the thick, silvery scars stretched over his throat and up the side of his face.

Yes, Sasuke will no doubt save hundreds once he arrives. His medical skills taught and groomed by Senju Tsunade. He’ll save these people.

But he won’t be able to save Genki.

“Thank you, Joji.” Mayu croaks, voice muffled from where her face is buried in Genki’s neck, undoubtedly realizing the unspoken truth as well. With her back to him Mayu misses Joji flinch, serene mask fracturing. Megumi thinks it’s the first time Mayu has ever acknowledged one of the Ro’s by name.

“Dismissed.” Joji bows to his Kage’s daughter, and right now his commanding officer, leaving the tent silently all the while thinking. Thinking of an infuriating, happy little girl, taking glee in electrocuting him and his brothers.

Megumi rises from his seat on the floor, preforming no small feat of contortion to fold himself into the old cot alongside the rest of his Team. The much taller boy opening up a familiar, red bound leather journal.

Megumi begins to read aloud, voice shaking in unshed tears.

“In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the end of worms and an oozy smell.”

Though they’d all be born into different generations, Team 18 had quickly found a common love between the three of them. Classic fantasy. The three of them had worked together for years to rewrite their shared favorite, spending many a sleepless night piecing together Tolkien’s master pieces. Genki could recite Gandalf’s fall word for word, even down to the descriptors of the Balrog.

Megumi would like to say he wasn’t jealous, but he’d be lying.

“‘Good Morning!’ Said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shinning, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.”

Tears fall free and unburdened down Mayu’s cheeks, and she stifles another sob. Megumi refuses to look at her, knows that if he does he’d begin to cry too and Genki needed them now, more than ever.

Megumi reads and reads, past morning and into noon, reading and reading until his voice is hoarse and the sun hangs low and burning at the horizon. Genki seems soothed by the flowing story, glassy eyes having found a hazy focus on the bright red cover of their treasured literature. Megumi wishes it were enough to keep him here with them.

“At last the time came for him to say good-bye to his friends.” His voice stutters over the start of this paragraph, and tears finally begin to fall. Staining wet trails down his temples and into his hair.

“‘Farewell, Balin!’ He said; ‘and farewell, Dwalin; and farewell Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur! May your beards never grow thin!’ And turning towards the Mountain he added: “Farewell Thorin Oakenshield! And Fili and Kili! May your memory never fade!’”

The mountain is reclaimed, the sun has set, and Genki draws his last, stuttering breaths folded in the arms of his closest friends of this world and the last. Genki drifts away from his second life, held by the only true family he’s ever known, and to Megumi’s soft voice guiding him into peace. Images of the rolling hills of the Shire, the great dark woods of the Mirkwood, the bright shining visage of Rivendell a soothing balm to the fading agony of his body.

Perhaps his next life will be in Middle Earth. Genki thinks he’d enjoy a Hobbit’s life in the rolling green hills of the Shire.

The sun is set, the cold dark of the desert eating away at the people within its sandy embrace. A lone tent stands apart from the rest, white and red striped tarp fluttering in the breeze.

A scream echoes through the still night, heard even over the cries of the dead and the dying. It is filled with a wrathful grief, the sort of grief that could tear down the world around them. The kind of grief that would stand and watch as the world burns, and burns their sorrows along with it.

Outside the tent Team Ro stands guard, pretending not to hear their Hime-sama shatter. Pretending that the tears on their faces is a rare, localized desert rain.

…

When Team 7 arrives it is to the silence of a ruined city, the silence of desolate streets and ruined homes.

A nameless Suna nin escorts them into the city. His face is drawn and heavily lined in stress, a once youthful face aging decades, the dark circles beneath his eyes so dark they look like bruises.

Naruto stares in open horror at the countless tents lining the streets, filling the market square, and the countless more people within them. The whole city is overrun in the stench of death, and the groans of the dying are an awful ambiance that completes this awful picture.

They’re lead to a lone tent set apart from the rest, and the Sand nin stops before the entrance. Naruto recognizes one of Team Ro standing guard at the entrance, though he can’t tell which one it is. Ro-kun is accompanied by a red haired Suna nin, sea foam eyes wraithlike in the morning light.

“The Ambassador is inside, as well her teammate and her brother. Please…speak quietly in the presence of the dead.” The dread churning in Naruto’s gut grows tenfold. Around him Sakura and Sasuke flinch, Sasuke’s face pinching in anger, Sakura’s twisting in barely contained fear.

That’s right, Sakura’s cousin is Mayu’s teammate. Does that mean—?

From beneath the hood of his cloak, Itachi is unreadable.

They step into the tent and their eyes are drawn first to the body on the bed, wrapped in white cloth. Megumi and Mayu stand shoulder to shoulder over the body, Sai pressed into Mayu’s other side. Sakura’s shoulders relax in subtle relief, then sag in guilt.

Mayu turns to greet them. She looks awful, the usually happy girl weighed down by stress and grief. She manages a small smile for Team 7.

“Hello Team 7, thank you for responding to your Hokage’s call on such short notice.”

But not fast enough. It goes unsaid, and perhaps it was never said at all, but Naruto thinks it. He feels unbearably guilty, and kind of like he’s going to vomit.

“There is much work to be done, starting with the high priority patients. You’ll find the elderly, the upper ranked, and the children in the hospital at the edge of the city, the Ro-kun outside will escort you.” She barely seems to see them, eyes glassy and distant. But her voice is steady, the set of her shoulders determined though weighed by grief.

She is not broken.

_______

Sasuke and Sakura work in tandem to create an antidote, and once ready Team 7 works together to become a tank of a medical team. With Sakura working as nurse, and Naruto’s seemingly endless chakra supply fueling Sasuke, Team 7 blazes through the hospital by the end of the first day.

They rest for exactly five hours, three to sleep, one to eat, and one to bathe and wash, and get straight back to it in the early dark of the morning.

Sai admires their work ethic, it’s obvious they’ve been working in tandem for years. They’re their own village, standing strong before the weight of the world. It’s been two days and they haven’t slowed their steady work through the sheer amount of patients in Suna. Sai estimates they should be finished by the day after tomorrow, four days in total to treat a village wide poisoning.

Right now the rest of his fellow Leaf nin, baring Team 7 of course, are in a meeting with the Kazekage and what remains of Wind Country’s council. A missive had arrived from their father this morning, and Mayu had left immediately upon reading it, leaving Sai to tend to Genki’s body.

Not that he was complaining, sitting in political meetings always gave him a headache.

According to Genki’s Will, upon his death both his body and all funeral arrangements were to be turned over to whoever was left of Team 18. If none of Team 18 remained then his body was to be burned and ashes disposed of. It made sense, according to Mayu and Megumi, Genki didn’t have any close family, aside from a cold, distant uncle he never talked about.

Genki’s aunt, the Nara clan head’s wife, was really the only positive adult influence in his life. Sporadic at best though, she was very busy with her own duties and corralling her own children and husband.

So, that just left his teammates.

So, here Sai was, preparing the sealing scroll that would carry and preserve Genki’s body home. Mayu entrusting the long, complicated process to Sai in her absence, both she and Megumi needed elsewhere.

The teen sighs as he finishes the final flourish across the black scroll, white ink glowing briefly as the Seal settles. As Mayu’s teammate Sai had known Genki pretty much since he’d first been taken in by the Hatake, and while they weren’t close Sai would definitely count him as a friend. The older boy had always been curious about his art, and an enthusiastic conversational partner on the topic. The two boys would spend hours debating the evolution of art in their world, sharing techniques, and once they’d even forced Sai’s father to sit for a portrait. Sai had procured a collection of classic illustrations from the warring clans era, he’d intended to gift it to Genki on his birthday.

Sai just wanted to go home. He wanted his sister, and his father, and all of their dogs to be piled in the living room together. He wanted all of this awfulness to just be a terrible dream.

Suzu whines at his side, the Great Dane sitting her chin on his shoulder nuzzling into his neck. Her bright blue eyes staring down at the still body wrapped in white linens. Suzu had been playing with Gahana, Gaara’s Sandstone Hyena, in Suna’s badlands. She hadn’t even known of the attack until the poison had been detonated.

“It’s not fair.” Her voice is soft, her last word dragging into a soft, canid whine.

Sai agrees, death is never fair.

_______

Gai once again sits in a meeting with the Kazekage and her council, Mayu sitting to his right and Megumi on her other side, Lee and Neji standing guard at their back. They’re in the Kazekage’s office this time, a dented, scratched table no doubt unearthed from one of the surrounding buildings has been set in the middle of the office, mismatched chairs pulled up for each of them.

Kakashi had sent a message to Mayu just an hour ago, the contents of which sent her running out of Genki’s tent pulling Megumi with her to fetch the rest of their political squad.

“A meeting?” Though exhausted and fighting off the last vestiges of Sasori’s suicide poison the Kazekage remains strong, stern faced.

His niece nods, “Kumo has called for a meeting between Konoha and Kumo, the subject of which is their investigations of Danzo’s corruptions and what was revealed after his execution.” Honestly it’s almost funny how fast Danzo’s “empire” collapsed in the wake of his death.

“With out Shimura Danzo’s monitoring his spies and double agents were ousted quickly. The Raikage has unearthed some deeper conspiracy however, something that could spell the doom of all the Elemental Nations. He’s calling for Konoha’s audience on neutral ground, Konoha extends the invitation to Suna as an ally and another victim to Danzo’s machinations.”

Gai, while exhausted and still fighting the rattling cough in his lungs, still feels that familiar pulse of proud warmth. Mayu, though weighted by a new grief and the stress of their current situation, has done San admirable job of picking herself up. The young teen holds herself steady and assured, and Gai feels like he was never truly needed on this mission. He’d been useless during the attack, trapped in rubble and poisoned as he was, and he’d been able to do nothing for the countless victims after the attack. Gai can feel a familiar shame and guilt simmering in him, wisdom and experience tells him that there was truly nothing that he could have done. His heart tells him that he was simply a fool, and his niece paid for this foolishness.

Temari thinks a moment, face dark and thoughts tumultuous. “This has something to do with our sudden terror attack doesn’t it?”

“It has everything to do with this.”

Temari leans back in her chair, blonde hair unbound and falling around her shoulders. “Has our guest been very talkative yet?”

The Kazekage is referring to Deidara, the bomber having survived the poison with Gaara and Mayu and been taken into custody immediately. Once Team Ro had arrived they’d detained him properly, and with the help of Suna began interrogations enthusiastically.

It’s a shame Sasori hadn’t survived too, sadly his nephew is very good at killing people.

“So far nothing, he seems more manic than anything else. Any answers we get from him are nothing but mad ramblings.” Gai knows that, privately, Mayu suspects she fried a little too much of his brain on her last attack. Gai’s fairly certain Deidara is just delusional.

The council has been oddly quiet today, withdrawn. He knows they all probably lost someone in this attack, it’s no surprise no ones really in the mood for talking. Gai quickly stifles a wet cough.

“Suna will be present at this meeting,” Temari fold her arms under her chest. “We will stand by our Konoha allies.”

Mayu smiles, a shadow of what it’s supposed to be, but genuine all the same. “Thank you, Kazekage-sama. The meeting will be held in a month, once Team 7 completes their work with the poison victims we’ll be heading back to Konoha.”

Her smile turns less kind and more bloodthirsty, “We leave our ‘honored guest’ in your hands.” Good luck Deidara, Gai hopes he dies in agony.

…

Itachi is…conflicted. On the one hand he is cautiously overjoyed at once again being so near his little brother, on the other hand he’s tense as a bow string waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When his precious little brother had appeared in that ramshackle tea house in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Itachi was certain he was hallucinating at first. Or maybe it was all a very bad joke. But no, his brother truly stood before him, not with murder and hatred in his heart, but a deep spiraling confusion and a cautious hope.

He’d been weak to the softly dangerous look in Sasuke’s eyes, had relented very easily to his demands.

Itachi had to make a choice in that moment, and in being presented with these choices came to a startling realization. Uchiha Itachi had never been loyal, not to his village, or his Kage, or the Akatsuki. Not to his father, cold and cruel and always wanting more than Itachi was willing to give. Not to his mother, who hurt him far more in her careful ignorance than his fathers harshness ever could.

Uchiha Itachi had never been loyal a day in his damn life.

But, he had loved. He had loved his little brother, more than himself, more than their clan, and more than his pitiful, sad, bloodstained life.

He’d killed for that love, in a misguided, manipulative attempt at protecting his brother. Had made himself an enemy to his village, and the person Sasuke despised most in this world.

So, when Sasuke comes for him and it is not with blades and hatred and a thirst for blood. But instead with questions, and the same look in his eyes that he had when he was five years old and begging Itachi to teach him how to throw kunai well— How could Itachi deny him anything?

So, Itachi refused to make another damn choice and did what he should’ve done years ago. He tells someone. He tells Sasuke the truth. He tells him everything.

Days later, still traveling with his little brother and his team, Itachi is still a bit stuck in the surrealism of it all. His bother knows, and he does not hate him.

When Team 7 is called to Suna, Itachi finds himself being bullied into going with them.

Itachi stands back and watches Sasuke work when they arrive in Suna, stunned and so terribly, unbelievably proud of his little brother. Sasuke went and found himself a Sage to apprentice under, and now plows through Suna like a man possessed healing hundreds of people in only days, and organizing a small platoon of Konoha and Suna medi-nin with the iron fist of a true dictator.

Sasuke inherited their father’s glare, it worked wonders in getting people to shut up and do as they’re told.

It all comes down to this.

The group of Konoha nin have finally left Suna, coming to a halt miles away from the village but still well within the desert region. Sasuke had wasted no time in “unmasking” him so to speak, and shortly after all hell had broken loose.

Outrage was the first wave of shared emotion, lots of yelling and swearing. Next confusion, then accusation. Through it all, only the Hokage’s daughter remains silent, a calm presence in a whirling storm.

“Enough.” Her words are quiet but her voice resolute, surprisingly the squad falls quiet.

Itachi had known of Hatake Mayu since she first joined the academy, and Danzo’s spies had sent along her sparse, no doubt heavily edited file. He was honestly shocked that Hound-Taicho had a child, and Itachi would have taken the report of her chunnin exam performance as bad comedy. If he hadn’t been the one making the report.

Sue him, he wanted to watch Sasuke’s first attempt at the chunnin exams, and also wanted to ensure his little brother wouldn’t just end up dead.

“The details of Uchiha Itachi’s last mission, under purview of Konoha, was a terrible crime that never should have transpired. For the sins of a power hungry old man, and the forceful ignorance of the Sandaime Hokage the Uchiha clan paid the price with their lives.” She takes a breathe, and violet eyes cut into Itachi, he holds her gaze steady but unchallenging. In the dying, golden light of the desert her eyes glow almost neon.

“As such, I believe it is only right for the last of the Uchiha clan to oversee the prosecution of the S Ranked criminal Uchiha Itachi.” She folds her hands in front of her, and like this Itachi can see the black body scroll attached to her belt.

“With the power granted to me as an ambassador, and the executioner of my father the Godaime Hokage’s will in his absence, I grant Uchiha Itachi a partial pardoning of all his crimes against Konoha. With this I hand over full custody of this case to the Uchiha clan head, Uchiha Sasuke.”

Itachi feels something like stunned gratitude, and hope well up within him, a combination of emotions he hasn’t felt in years. Itachi knows he doesn’t deserve redemption, deserves to be put down, but he can’t help but be so achingly grateful for this. This chance to see his brother again, to feel some modicum of goodness and happiness in his life, before it’s inevitably destroyed once more.

‘Hound-taicho, you’ve raised a very interesting young woman.’

~~~~~~~~

Deep in rolling green hills, and amidst fields and fields of flowers and crops, a mother lies in her bed, sweating and cursing up a storm entirely unbefitting of a lady.

That day, a chilly October morning, a baby is born with bright blue eyes and a head of curly black hair.

The wet nurse hurriedly wraps the baby in a clean, warm towel and hands them off to their mother.

“Congratulations, Jacinthe! It’s a baby boy!” The mother, sweaty black curls and bright blue eyes matching her new son, smiles down at her baby tired but elated.

“Welcome, my precious son.” The mother greets her child, and names him in the next breath. “Otho, Otho Baggins.”