Chapter 7
Hotaru’s POV
As soon as Kakashi gets released - Aniki looks displeased about it - I use the floor to move him across the room and behind me very quickly.
“Sit down.” I order them all, and after a tense moment, they all settle around the table. “Shisui, due to slightly less bad habits-”
“Dude, what the fuck did you do while I was dead?!” Shisui mutters,
“Y’know what? I’m making more tea.” Madara quickly withdraws back over to the kitchen area, and I glare at Shisui disapprovingly.
“-you get to explain why and how you’re all here. Swiftly.”
“Y’know how time is usually the only thing keeping dead people dead, my darling, temperamental cousin?” Shisui drawls mildly, I immediately pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh…hard. “Yep. We have no idea who ended up where or when, but Itachi was able to catch me before I accidentally wandered into a bear’s den.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter, switching my hold so that I can massage my temples unimpeded. “So now we’re going to have to deal with unkillable enemies while we’re at it.”
“At what?” Konan asks nervously,
“Everything seems pretty…ah, I don’t want to jinx it with the ‘Q’ word…” Nagato wilts a little as I look up.
“We’re hunting Zetsu.” Obito deadpans and drags the mop past as he goes to clean up his mess. “Well, she has been, mostly. If the markings on the maps are correct.”
“What part of ‘I spent the first nineteen years old my previous life blind before getting mixed up in this’ makes you think I know how to read?!” Toneri snarks, I give him an exhausted stare, “...it’s really not that important, Tiger, please.”
“It is. It really, really is.” Madara mutters by the stove, “Firefly, where the hell are your knives?”
“Just use a kunai?”
“No!” Madara and the Akatsuki yell - surprisingly, even Aniki and Shisui are in agreement about it.
“Why not?!” Kakashi, Obito, Toneri, and I all argue,
“It’s not like I can just go into town and get a knife set.” I point out,
“I doubt that, but honestly, who’s it going to hurt? I’ve been doing the same thing for most of my life - ow! Kitten, what was that for!?” Kakashi almost yowls when I elbow him in the thigh - right on a nerve, hopefully.
“That is because I know you know how to cook properly, and I’ve been here for nine years now. If I could find a town to get cooking knives from, don’t you think I’d have done it by now!?” I can feel the vein on my forehead throbbing in time with my heartbeat. “Use the kunai this time, okay? When Konoha is built, I’ll be able to slip in and trade things for a knife set and other necessities, alright?”
There’s a sharp, echoing pause.
“Alright?” I demand lowly,
“Yes ma’am.” Obito, Kakashi, Toneri, and the Akatsuki (including Shisui, because Itachi’s dumbassery is contagious) all echo swiftly, but a warm, large, leather glove settles on my shoulder as I glare disapprovingly down the length of the table.
“How about I bring you some?” Madara offers, still holding a wooden ladle, steam rising from the bamboo and wreathing him in something beautiful and comforting. “Amaterasu only knows we have enough spare metal rolling around.”
“Still using knife sets for practice forging?” I mutter before I can help it, lips twitching as I recall the…colorful…language that came out of my father’s mouth during his trips to the forge.
But Madara smiles, and I feel the tension leak out of my shoulders.
“Fine,” I sigh deeply, Madara’s smile widens a little, but he backs off, returning to the kitchen, and I turn back to Shisui. “Shisui, tell me what you all were doing before stumbling onto us, please.”
“Mostly,” Shisui’s hand tightens over Itachi - when did the two of them start holding hands to begin with? - and Konan raises an amused eyebrow at them as Kakashi settles down next to me. “We were wandering around, taking odd missions from odder people, trying to not get recognized when Kisame came in holding a Wanted poster for someone fitting your description that came from Kakashi and Obito but got signed by the Daimyo of Fire? Obviously, I can’t verify it personally, but I trust Itachi with my life.”
“You trust Itachi with a little bit more than your life, Shisui.” I state dryly, crossing my arms as I stare at my cousin fondly. He was like a second big brother, except more annoying and twice as loud. “That’s what started this mess, after all.”
“Hey! Can you blame a guy for trying to head off a war?” Shisui says dryly,
“She can and she will.” Itachi says, equally, if not more so dry-toned, and I snort so hard my ribs hurt. I wince and gently cup that area of my lungs, a small area of my stomach twists with fear and concern before I stamp down on it.
(If I am still injured, I cannot afford to let people know. They need a leader, especially if people are coming back from the dead. I cannot afford to be weak.)
“I forgot that you two had a sense of humor,” I state dryly, gently massaging in the way someone would for a cramp, and I ignore the stares. “How many days since you discovered the wanted poster? And don’t be cheeky, Shisui, your speed won’t be affected by your eyes.”
“It would be affected by the size of our group, though, cousin.” Shisui says, and his tone changes as he speaks, “How bad is it?”
“How bad is what, Agent?” I allow a bit more of my authority, of my…Court voice to slip through, Shisui and Itachi recoil visibly, and the rest of the Akatsuki go still as Obito’s head snaps around like he got slapped. “Report, now.”
“Yes, Clan Head-sama.” Itachi murmurs, voice cold, eyes void, and Shisui shiver next to him as Madara turns like someone aimed a kunai at his back.
(If pissing off Aniki is what it takes, then I will do it. Weakness cannot be afforded right now. We are too many, and Zetsu is hiding too well.)
Madara Uchiha’s POV
(Clan Head!? CLAN HEAD?! Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god damn! We threw hands with the Sage-damned CLAN HEAD of their era! Which clan is she the head of?! Is she head through birth? Through marriage!? Fuck fuck fuck-)
I easily transfer the rice into bowls, then pour some of the (rare) green tea that Hotaru apparently never stores (I had to bring it myself) and then bring them to the table to serve with absolute care and delicacy that would probably send my brothers into hysterical cackles.
(Why did I never pay attention when Obaa-chan taught us to serve tea!? Why?! She even TOLD US that it was good for diplomacy!)
My heart sounds like thunder in my ears and I can’t hear a word that Shisui or Itachi says, but Hotaru looks pissed, her lips drawn thin and turned down, her eyes narrowed and there are the barest of wrinkles in the corners by her lashes.
I set a bowl down by her first, and she gives me the briefest of upturned lips before continuing to stare down the people at her table.
(Was that approval or a hint that she knows I don’t know how to do this and she thinks it’s cute? Am I doing it correctly? Am I doing it wrong? Oh, Fire’s balls, did I just insult her!?)
“Please, for the love of whatever you worship, calm down.” Toneri is suddenly in my ear, I glance at him through my hair and he’s holding the other bowls of rice just as carefully, “I’m going to the other side of the table, just serve the person across the one I serve.”
I nod, face feeling like it’s on fire as he takes Hotaru’s right side, and I continue on her left.
Toneri serves ‘Yahiko’, and I serve ‘Itachi’.
He serves ‘Nagato’, and I serve ‘Shisui’.
He serves ‘Konan’ and I serve ‘Kisame’.
Tobi and Hound wave us both off so I take the spare bowl from Toneri and stick the two under the wicker lid from the pot.
“Madara,” Hotaru waves me over before I can sit near the door, and I walk over to her. “Sit.”
I blink, but there’s a cushion that wasn’t there before, and, well…
My blush is still there, still obvious, but I sit between Hotaru and her older brother, and I eat with her as she absolutely grills this ‘Akatsuki’ group.
(Why does her being competent make me swoon? Why can’t it be something normal? Like the way she applies her lipstick or something?)
She eats quickly but doesn’t let up on the questioning, she stays tuned in on the conversation and doesn’t lose track of who’s speaking - something that I haven’t been paying attention to at all.
(She was trained as a diplomat. She was going to be a diplomat. Why would that change?)
This changes both everything and nothing.
When Hotaru finally decides to dismiss everyone, for the ‘afternoon’ the sun is dipping below the horizon. I gently suggest they stay for dinner, but Itachi - her own brother - dismisses it, politely to me, but gives Hotaru a look I can’t decipher.
“I think it would be best if we left.” Itachi growls at her, “Since we are clearly not trusted-”
“Itachi-!” Tobi barks,
“No,” Hotaru murmurs, holding out an arm as he takes an angry, demanding step forward, “If they wish to leave, they may leave, and they do not need to state the reason. That is Rule One. No one is to stay here if they do not wish to, no one is to be driven away either.”
Itachi scoffs softly like he doesn’t believe it, but I gently place a hand on Hotaru’s back.
“If you want me to,” I tell her, “I can make them stay.”
The offer falls out of my mouth before my brain catches up with me - but even as the surprise slams into me, I don’t regret it, and I don’t take it back - and Hotaru blinks at me, also surprised. It feels like the world shrinks down to the two of us as I stare into her eyes, it feels soft, it feels…right.
(Why is this happening? Why does this keep happening? What is this?)
“If they do not wish to stay, I don’t want them to.” Hotaru murmurs, “I will not make them.”
“That’s not what I said.” I remind her quietly, my hand tightening slightly, protectively as hurt flashes across her face. “If you want them to stay, I’ll make them stay.”
“I only want people to stay, when they want to stay.” She replies, soft and gentle and far, far too kind. “I only want them here when they want to be here, otherwise it’s worthless.”
My hand forms a fist, clenching around the thin, flimsy gray yukata she pulled from I-did’t-notice-where, but she leans against my shoulder with a soft, rumbling purr.
“Return when you wish to, Aniki.” Hotaru turns to her elder brother with a wry smile, looking somber, almost wistful as she looks at him, and him alone, for what feels like the first time in this entire encounter. “I will wait.”
“You might be waiting for a while, Imouto.” Itachi warns, a briefly pained expression flashing across his face. “There’s trouble on the roads, you know. This is not our era.”
Hotaru relaxes against me, limp and easy as she smiles at him.
“You are strong, Aniki, as are your friends.” She lets out another deep, rumbling purr, and Toneri settles on her other side, they easily hold hands as she continues. “There would be few to challenge you as a group - and even fewer smart enough to think to separate you properly.”
“Careful, Imouto, you sound like you’re warning someone.” Itachi’s eyes flick to me, but I tighten my arm around Hotaru. “We will return, Tadpole…eventually.”
“And I will still be here…” Hotaru murmurs, they turn quietly, leaving, “As always.”
(Do people leave her often? Does her brother leave her often?)
I wait until the Akatsuki are out of sight, and then I hug Hotaru, Toneri, and Hound easily piling on and wrapping us up tightly. She doesn’t move, I don’t even hear her breathe under me.
When we finally let go of her, she lets out a soft, tender sniffle, but she wipes her eyes viciously, almost clawing at them.
“We have work to do.” Hotaru snarls, “Hound, you memorized the Bingo Book from our era, right?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know the latest casualty list from the war?”
“Oh no-” Tobi intones,
“I want you to cross-reference with Toneri on who has already come through to this era, and I want you to start eliminating the threats.” Hotaru-Sama snarls, the flames of war blazing in her eyes, and Hound calmly steps back and bows to her as Toneri hesitates before doing the same. “Tobi, where are the maps with the current locations of the Zetsu Caves?”
“Dinner is not going to be a quiet affair, is it?” I lament to Toneri, who is still bowed over as Hotaru storms past and Tobi begins to flit about, gathering papers and pens and maps and-and-and-and-
“Are you kidding?” Toneri mutters angrily,
“You know how I kept mentioning that there are a few differences in how she treats her brothers versus how she treats yours and Hashirama’s?” Hound mutters, I raise an eyebrow as they finally straighten as Hotaru sits back down at the table. “Yeah, well, you’re about to see some of them. Maybe get some context clues to the rest.”
“I don’t like how you’re phrasing that…” I mutter,
“I didn’t like witnessing it, so…” Hound throws his hands up in a shrug with attitude, and I have half a mind to christen the river with his shrill screams.
(He’s not my cousin, I can’t discipline him like that. It’s not my job. I’m not his Clan Head.)