What I Wouldn't Do

“How will this affect trade?”

It was with great effort that Shikamaru kept the exhaustion off his face. As if two days had been crammed into an hour, he was slowly loosing his composure as the civilians spoke in circles. To their credit, the large group had been remarkably sympathetic about the situation. They’d been patient and quiet as he reiterated the Hokage's statement, and he'd been pleasantly surprised by their composure. But they had so many questions, and he had so few answers, and he'd barely had any time to think and no sleep to make up for it, and Shikamaru was this close to telling them all to leave so he could just take a gods-damn nap.

He took a breath instead.

“We don’t expect there to be any negative effects on Konoha’s trade. But, Hokage-sama has anticipated your concern and seen fit to ensure your safety. He has dispatched two decorated ANBU squads to comb the trading routes for possible dangers. The Hokage understands how important all of your hard work is and wishes to make sure your efforts are not in vain. He has asked me to assure you that your safety is top priority.”

Alright, so perhaps that was laying it on a little thick. Naruto wasn't really in any frame of mind to care that much about trade right now, but he also couldn’t be seen as anything other than a strong leader, and Shikamaru would be damned if anyone started questioning his friend.

“And the lockdown?” Inquired the one of the representatives from the Merchants Guild. He was a squat little man with a beard that could circle his belly twice over. “How long can we expect the gates to remain closed? Many of us are behind schedule already and we’re not even allowed to make communications outside the village. What good are safe trade routes if we can’t leave?”

“We can’t resupply either,” his partner chimed. “I was supposed to get new shipments in from Kumo yesterday, but we’re not even allowed that. What are we supposed to do when we run out of stock?”

Shikamaru held back a grimace. “We will not allow it to get that far. Hokage-sama hopes to have the lockdown rescinded either by the end of today or sometime tomorrow.”

“And if these enemy shinobi are just biding their time?” asked the elderly Head of the Bankers Union. “What are we to do if they return?”

“We have already taken that into account. I can assure you that the perpetrators have all been apprehended and there is no reason to assume another attack is forthcoming.”

“If that’s the case then why is the lockdown still in effect?”

“It’s a safety precaution. Hokage-sama has called in multiple departments to ensure the security of the village. Once he is satisfied with the results, he will end the lockdown and allow trade to continue. Until that time, he asks for your patience.”

“And do we know anything about these people?” Another representative asked.

“Yes,” Shikamaru straightened. “We have been able to determine that these shinobi were from outside the Union, but are too disorganized to be a legitimate threat. However, Hokage-sama has opted to be cautious and has already taken your concerns into account. Once the lockdown has ended, any merchant still hesitant to travel need not worry; Konoha’s military is strong. For the price of a C-rank mission, merchants may employ the services of Konoha shinobi teams at double the numbers.”

“Double the numbers?” An older woman – Shikamaru recalled her as being Sanroku Hanamori, spokeswoman for the Textiles Association – inquired. “Does that mean we shall get twice the number of shinobi for the price of a simple C-rank?”

“It does, ma’am. Hokage-sama will do everything to keep the members of this village safe.” He left out the part that these doubled numbers really only equated to another team of genin. As genin generally received a lower pay cut than their chuunin or jounin leaders, doubling the number of genin equated to the same price as a standard chuunin squad. In layman’s terms, the civilians weren’t getting more for less, they just equaled out the pay into a regular C-rank. Perhaps it was a little underhanded, but it got the job done, and the Hokage’s job was to run the village in the most efficient manner possible, not pander to egos. Shikamaru just helped move the process along.

“And where is Hokage-sama?” Asked the official from the Senju Preservation Society. There was something hedging into concern on his face, but whether that was for the man in question or something else, Shikamaru couldn’t determine. “Why is he not here?”

Shikamaru wasn’t quick enough to keep himself from frowning, but he was surprised when Hanamori beat him to a response.

“No doubt he’s with his son,” she stated, her eyes shadowed with sympathy. If the Nara remembered correctly, she had somewhere in the range of seven children herself.

“His son is fine,” the spokesman from the Engineering Union, Tokatsu Fuyen, waved away. The contempt in his words had Shikamaru curling his fingers in preparation. There was always one. “If we are truly safe from attack, then surely Hokage-sama can afford to meet with us in person. How do we know you’re not lying to us? Or does the safety of Konoha’s civilians just not rank high enough next to the well-being of one boy?”

“Hold your tongue,” Shikamaru hissed. He allowed the slightest inkling of killing intent to leak out. “Hokage-sama has already had multiple meetings with myself, the ANBU, the Interrogation Department, and Village Security. He is doing everything he possibly can. Do you know why we don’t expect another attack? It’s because Hokage-sama takes your safety as his highest priority. Without his quick action, you can bet Boruto-sama’s attackers would have regrouped. Then we would have had to worry about another attack, and who knows who would have been the target this time. You are very lucky, Spokesman Tokatsu, to live in a village where your leader is willing and able to work for the benefit of everyone, even when his son rests in the hospital. So I dare you to say he is not doing everything he can to ensure this village’s security.”  

Shikamaru allowed his eyes to rake over the room, making anyone who thought otherwise bow their heads in submission. He was pleased to note there weren’t many; Hanamori and the representative from the Kaminarimon Corporation even appeared pleased by the dressing down.

Fuyen, suitably chastised, said, “My apologies, Nara-sama. I did not mean to imply–”

“What you meant means nothing to me,” Shikamaru cut off. “The fact is you did insinuate Hokage-sama was being negligent in his duty. This is a lie and speaking otherwise is grounds for treason. You don’t want to be accused of treason, do you, Tokatsu-san?”

The civilian swallowed harshly. “N-no, Nara-sama. My apologies.”

Shikamaru didn’t deign to acknowledge or absolve him, and simply let his attention slide to the awkwardly shifting crowd. He grit his teeth. He wasn’t going to get anything more out of them at this point and he was too tired to try. “If that’s all, I move to adjourn this meeting.”

“Seconded,” the Kaminarimon representative motioned hastily into the silence. One by one the others followed, and within minutes the room had been emptied of all occupants save Shikamaru.  

The man finally allowed himself to give into the urge to collapse and fell back in his seat. He fervently hoped that wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. Konoha’s economy depended quite a bit on the merchants, and while technically the Hokage was the only real power in the village, that didn’t mean they couldn’t make his – and by extension Shikamaru’s – life difficult. They both already had enough troublesome shit to deal with.  

“Nara-sama,” an upbeat, young voice called from the doorway. Shikamaru bit back a groan and looked up to see one of the new administrative chuunin standing at attention.

“Un?” He grunted.

“Ise-san sent me to inform you the connection is up in Briefing Room B for whenever you’re ready.”

“Tch,” not even five minutes to let his mind think. Shikamaru waved his hand. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

The chuunin nodded and with a clipped, “Sir,” hurried off to inform Udon. Doubtless Shikamaru could have made it faster, but he needed a minute to let his mind catch up and it wouldn’t do to meet with anyone as he was.

He carefully pulled himself to his feet and allowed them to lead him down into the underbelly of the Hokage Tower. Briefing Room B wasn’t an actual room, but rather a code for the higher ups in the village to use when they didn’t want every genin, chuunin, and jounin to know what was going on. Of course, there was a real Briefing Room B, but it was only ever used to deter suspicions. Rather, Shikamaru headed to a small, out of the way room only slightly bigger than a closet. Wires and monitors were scattered along the floor, intersecting each other to connect to the screen positioned against the wall.

Udon met him at the door.

“Nara-sama,” he acknowledged with a flash of his glasses. “Everything’s ready for you.”

Shikamaru inclined his head. “Has Hokage-sama’s request been relayed?”

“Yes, sir. I received confirmation from Suna, Kiri, and Kumo, however Iwa is asking for a delay. The Tsuchikage is away at the capital for the daimyō’s coronation.”

“Shit.” Shikamaru squeezed his eyes shut and just barely refrained from clapping a hand across his face. He’d completely forgotten about that. “And there’s no way she can contact us from there?”

“Today is the last day of the ceremony, and she can’t afford to be seen ignoring the daimyō for anything less than an emergency.”

“This is an emergency.”

“Not from Iwa’s point of view. They won’t budge for anything below a Red. So unless we’re going to war or the moon is falling, it can wait.”

“Of course that’s how they see it,” Shikamaru groused. He stripped himself of his jacket, the cloth irritating against his skin, and tried to cool the aggravation in his tone. It wasn’t Udon’s fault Iwa was so damn stubborn. “Did they say when the Tsuchikage was expected to return?”

“She should be back no later than tomorrow morning.”

Shikamaru’s lips twisted. “That’s pushing it close with Kiri. Morning in Iwa could be the middle of the night there.”

Udon raised his hands apologetically. “They said it was the earliest they could do.”

“Yeah, I figured. Alright,” Shikamaru relented, knowing it was no use pretending otherwise. “I’ll talk to Iwa and get a definitive time from them. When I do, I’ll need you to alert the other Kage about the change in schedule.”

“They’re not going to like that,” Udon warned. “It was bad enough when I told them Hokage-sama had placed the village on emergency lockdown, but the minute I so much as mentioned the Alert, the officials went off. And they were even more unhappy when I refused to elaborate.”

“Yes, I figured that would happen. But we’re not chancing an insecure line just to reassure their conscience.”

Udon folded his arms across his chest and frown. “They’re not insecure lines. I set them up myself.”

“And your efforts are commendable, but if I say they’re insecure then they’re insecure, and until you’ve encrypted them seven ways to Sunday, they’re going to remain insecure.”

“It’s almost identical to the line you use to talk to the Union,” Udon retorted. “It is encrypted seven ways to Sunday.”

“No, it’s encrypted six ways to Sunday.”

“You know, I’ve done the statistics. Six ways, seven ways – there’s very little difference. One of these days you’re just going to have to get over your technophobia.”

“There’s enough of a difference for me to be concerned, and this isn’t about my distrust of technology. This is about taking every possible precaution to make sure our enemy doesn’t get further ahead of us than they already are. You don’t know which one of the Kages’ officials is going to pick up that line or even if they’re the only one listening in, and unless the Kage themselves say it’s secure we’re not taking that risk.”

“The world’s going to find out anyway, you know,” Udon said softly. “Even if it’s only the official story. We can’t keep this a secret for much longer.”

“And we don’t need to. We just need to keep it silent until the Kage meet. Once everyone is on the same page, we can afford to let the story spread. Besides,” Shikamaru lowed his voice, “the attempt’s not what we’re trying to keep secret,” it’s what the attempt meant for village security that they had to keep under wraps. For outside shinobi to know how easily they’d been compromised would only spell trouble. Shikamaru trusted the Kage with that information because they understood what that meant for their own villages, but he wasn’t as trustful of their subordinates. Increasing security could mean anything; the knowledge of an almost successful kidnapping of the Hokage’s child meant quite another. Using any form of communication outside of physical interaction was already enough to raise his hackles.

He ran a hand down his face.

“You’re right. The world is going to find out – they’re going to find out soon – and their eyes and ears will undoubtedly help, but a fire like this can very easily get out of control. We need to be able to give the populace a solution so that in the event something goes wrong we’re not the ones taking the brunt of the damage.”

“And keeping our allies in the dark will do that?”

“Until we can talk to their Kage, yes.”

Udon sighed. “Alright, if you think it’s for the best. I’ll trust your judgment.” Though he didn’t look happy about it.

Too bad.

He turned his attention back to the closet. “The room’s been sealed?”

“Of course,” Udon replied, a little miffed Shikamaru would think him so incompetent. “And everything’s encrypted seven ways to Sunday.”

“Smartass,” but the ire in his tone was gone, letting Udon know he at least appreciated his work, if not exactly enthusiastic about it. “If anyone asks, I’m not here. This meeting is not taking place and I’m not to be interrupted by anyone less than the Hokage. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good,” he nodded again. He marched past the man to enter further into the room and waited for Udon to lock and seal the door before approaching the desk. A large computer sat before him, the screen blue with a simple password request. Shikamaru quickly typed in the most recent code and the screen instantly flared to life, bringing forth the somewhat blurry image of Yuuin Mibuna, Konoha’s current ambassador to the Shinobi Union and one of Uzumaki Naruto’s former hellions. Her face was zoomed in as if she was fixing the camera.

“Well, it’s about time, Nara-sama,” the new jounin complained with all the uncaring flippancy of youth. “You were supposed to contact me an hour ago. What gives?”

“Mibuna,” Shikamaru said, tone strained. She was probably one of the most troublesome women he knew and he’d willingly married Temari. “I have an update from the Hokage.”

The woman’s brow furrowed in apprehension and she leaned back. “An update? Is Naruto-sensei finally deigning to tell us what’s going on?”

“Not quite. There’s been a snag. I need you to inform the Union that Hokage-sama is issuing a Yellow Alert.”

Mibuna blinked. “What?”

“I said–”

“I know what you said.” She took a minute to collect herself. “What do you mean Naruto-sensei is issuing a Yellow Alert? What happened?”

“There was an incident.”

“Yeah, no shit, see I figured that out yesterday when we got issued the emergency protocols. I doubly figured it out when you sent me that dinky little message saying you weren’t going to be able to come to headquarters like usual and then never responded to any of my emails. And I triple figured it out when the stupid communications people told me they had blocked those very same emails because they didn’t consider me important enough to let passed their fuckin’ blackout. Which, for the record, is fucking stupid because I’m the fucking Union rep, but whatever.”

“Technically, you’re still in training.”

“Whatever! I’m the one here! And now you drop this in my lap? How the hell am I supposed to tell the other representatives this without any context?”

“You have context, Jounin Yuuin,” Shikamaru reprimanded, eyeing the way she stilled in her seat. “Konoha is under an information blackout. Emergency protocols are in effect and the village is under lockdown until Hokage-sama deems it safe to rescind those orders. As of now, he has set a recommendation that all villages tied to the Union adopt protocols detailed under Alert guidelines. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what those are.”

“N-no, Nara-sama. I understand.”

“Good. Then that should tell you all you need to know.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Now am I to understand you’ve received my report?”

“Yes, Nara-sama, but I don’t get what good it’ll do me if you’re in Konoha.”

“I may be in Konoha but you are not. It’ll be up to you to deliver the report in my place.”

“W-what?” She stared, shocked out of her shame. “But I’ve never delivered the report before. I’m still in training! You literally just said–”

“Mibuna.” There was a warning in Shikamaru’s tone that had the young woman once again snapping to attention. “If you can’t maintain composure I will be forced to replace you.”

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.” She adopted a look of contrition.

“See that it doesn’t. You can consider this a promotion, if you’re so inclined. Despite my reservations, Hokage-sama is placing his faith in you. He believes you are ready. Are you going to disappoint him?”

Mibuna immediately sat up straighter. “No, sir. I’ll deliver the report and make sure the Union understands the gravity of the situation. Is there anything else I need to be made aware of?”

“Not yet. Hokage-sama will be meeting with the other Kage to discuss the issue more in depth. Once they’ve come to a consensus, he will update you on the situation. Until then, I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. If the other villages have any information make sure they inform us immediately. I will let the communications department know to let you through the blackout, but you are only permitted to speak to myself or the Hokage, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Shikamaru nodded. “I’ll be in communication, then. Keep me up to date. If you learn anything you think is important, contact me immediately. Day or night, I’ll be available.”

“Understood,” she bowed her head. “If that is all, I’ll go collect the representatives.”

“Very good. Jounin Nara out.”

“Jounin Yuuin out.” She gave a little wave and the screen went blank.

Shikamaru stretched against the uncomfortable chair and groaned loudly as his joints popped. Mibuna had a good head on her shoulders, but she had a lot of growing up to do. Hopefully, he hadn’t just left her to the wolves.

No, Mibuna would be fine. She was ready. She was immature, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do well.

What I wouldn’t give for Naruto’s level of faith.

He dug his palms into his eyes and rubbed, groaning to let out some of the built up tension. His toes twirled against the floor causing his chair to swivel a bit, and he allowed himself the brief moment of relaxation. What he wouldn’t give for his bed, but no, he had work to do. He added a little extra pressure to the floor and pushed, sending the chair sliding across the wood towards the opposite wall. There was a red phone hanging there that he reached for, and he punched in a short extension code, fingers lacing into the curls of the cord lazily.

“Identification?” The monotone voice on the other end asked.

“Jounin 012611,” Shikamaru answered back, straightening his spine in an effort to stave off the exhaustion. He stifled a yawn.

“One moment.”

A low beep echoed over the line and Shikamaru’s mouth twitched. It only served to trigger the deeper levels of his brain into remembering how little sleep he’d had.

“Jounin 012611,” came a lilting tone over the phone. “This is Jounin 003242. What can I do for you?”

“I need a direct line to the Tsuchikage,” or at least the closest approximation. When it came to matters of state, no one just got direct access to a Kage. Not unless they were a Kage themselves.

“Yes, sir. One moment.”

The beeping sound returned, forcing Shikamaru to drag a tired hand down his face. Times like these made him miss the hawks. He reminded himself that he only had three more meetings after this before he could go home and funneled a small amount of chakra through his system to give himself a little boost.

A quiet click came over the line indicating that a connection was being made. Shikamaru pulled himself up in his chair, uncurling his fingers and took a deep breath for what would undoubtedly be a troublesome conversation.

“I hope you know what time it is, Nara,” came the unusually grouchy tone of someone half-asleep.

Shikamaru’s lips twitched. “Around ten local time.”

He heard a snort. “Try six. We’re in the mountains. It’s not even sunrise yet.” There was some creaking over the line, a sound akin to a bed shifting as its occupant sat up. “Your man already woke me earlier. It’s like you people don’t want me to sleep tonight.”

“It’s not that early.” Most shinobi were up and about by five in the morning.

“Maybe not for you young people,” the man on the other end rebutted. “Or for people who are allowed a full night’s rest.”

“My apologies,” Shikamaru said, not quite able to keep the amusement out of his voice. Though he did admit he was surprised Kitsuchi was the one manning the line. It…complicated matters. Of all the times for him not to get some random middleman.

“Hang your apologies. We both know you’re not sorry.”

“That’s not true.”

The Iwa shinobi snorted. “If you were really sorry you would have waited an hour.” More shifting echoed over the line, no doubt made by the man in an effort to wake himself up. “My daughter isn’t here.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you bothering me?”

“Because I need something to tell the other Kage. Udon informed me Tsuchikage-sama is expected back tomorrow. I need to know when.”

“I don’t have anything definitive,” Kitsuchi said reluctantly, “but she did say she hoped to be back by ten at the earliest.”

Ten? That should still be reasonable for Kiri, but it was pushing it. “Is there any way for her to get here earlier?”

“It’s a two hour train ride from the capital and she can’t leave without giving a formal goodbye.” Kitsuchi huffed. “The daimyō’s not known for being an early riser.”

Shikamaru kneaded his forehead together to stave off the growing headache. “You have to have some way of getting a message to her.”

“Already did. She’s stuck at the ceremony until tonight, but Akatsuchi relayed the information to her. There’s a reason she’s high-tailing it out of there and it’s not just because our gracious new daimyō is an entitled, fat-assed little shit with a superiority complex.”

Shikamaru let out an almost involuntary snort. He tried to cover it up, but only ended up choking on sputum.

Over the line, Kitsuchi chucked. “Liked that, did you? Yeah, he’s a right pain in the ass and he’s only been on the throne a month. Feel like trading?”

“Ah, no thanks.” Shikamaru actually liked Ikkyū for all he thought the man could afford to send a better ambassador.

He could almost see Kitsuchi shrug. “Shame.” He cleared his throat. “But as for your Summit, I can’t guarantee she’ll be back any earlier.”

“So I gathered,” Shikamaru said, sobering. “And there’s no way the daimyō would give her access to his communication equipment, is there?”

“That little rat? No way. Besides, I wouldn’t trust him not to tap the line.”

“Great.” Shikamaru massaged his brow in frustration. “Do you think she would be able to meet exactly at ten, then?”

“Exactly?” The man echoed. “Might be cutting it a little close, but it’s not every day the Hokage calls for an emergency summit. If she could, she’d probably already be on her way back. That or literally wresting control of the daimyō’s office.”

Shikamaru’s mouth twitched. “I know a few people who’d pay to see that.”

“Me too. I’m one of them. Either way, if I tell her to be here by ten, she’ll find a way to do it,” he boasted.

“Thank you,” Shikamaru said, honestly grateful.

“No problem, kid.” His voice lowered in concern. “I admit, your alert sent us into a bit of a panic, and when your man wouldn’t tell us anything more…”

Shikamaru sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the receiver. “My apologies. He was just following orders.”

“Oh?” The man questioned. “A Yellow Alert is not something just bandied about without giving us some hint at what we’re supposed to be on the lookout for.”

“I’m aware. The situation is…delicate.”

“Delicate, huh? Shinobi don’t have a very good history with delicate things.”

“No, we don’t,” the Nara mumbled almost to himself. Delicate things in the hands of shinobi tended to break out into wars. “In any case, Hokage-sama is reluctant to have any more information spread over too many channels.”

He didn’t even need to see him to know Kitsuchi was surprised. “This is a highly secured line,” and he wasn’t just some random jounin.

“As I told Udon, a line secured six ways to Sunday isn’t as good as a line secured seven ways.”

Kitsuchi balked, either in amusement or indignation. “That so?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the last letter between his lips.

“Alright,” Kitsuchi relented, “we’ll do it your way then. Just tell me this,” his cadence dropped to a growl, “is my daughter in danger?”

“Your daughter?” Shikamaru repeated thoughtfully. He curled his fingers along the desk as the tension over the line rose. “Physically, I don’t think so.”

“And mentally? Emotionally?”

Shikamaru took a deep breath. He hadn’t even brought this up with Naruto. “It’s my suggestion that you increase security around the more vulnerable members of Tsuchikage-sama’s family.”

“More vulnerable…?” Kitsuchi trailed off.

“Yes. Specifically, any children close to her.” Because there was a slim chance that Boruto wasn’t just targeted for some reason specific to him. It could very well have had another purpose: to break the Hokage. And thereby break Konoha with him.

“Children?” Kitsuchi exclaimed. It actually sent a spike of pain through Shikamaru’s ear. “What happened?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Damn your liberties!” A bang echoed over the line, no doubt from the large man’s fist hitting whatever table he happened to be closest to. “If my family is in danger I want to fucking know about it!”

“And I’m telling you that it is!” Shikamaru finally shouted. He was tired and cranky and he had three more meetings after this, dammit! “This…this goes far beyond just some threat we got. There is a reason Hokage-sama issued that alert. Now I’m telling you to be on your guard. If I trusted this connection, you can be assured I’d tell you everything,” but they’d infiltrated Konoha, right under the nose of a man who could literally sense evil, and he couldn’t trust shit right now.

“Fuck kid, you’re actually scared.”

Damn right he was scared. These intruders had evaded Naruto, of all people. Shikamaru almost hoped Orochimaru was behind this. At least then he’d have some sort of parameter for what he was dealing with.

He took a deep breath. “Hokage-sama will disclose everything at the Summit. Until then, keep your shinobi on alert for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Will do,” the other man said gruffly. “If you learn anything about Iwa...”

“We’ll inform you immediately,” he assured. “And if you hear anything about Konoha-”

“We’ll send it your way.” He scuffled about on the other end. “I’ll send Kurotsuchi the message. She’ll be ready by ten even if I have to go and drag her back myself.”

Shikamaru’s lips quirked upwards at the image. “Thanks.”

“No problem. And Shikamaru?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell the Hokage I’m sorry about whatever happened.”

Shikamaru let out a huff, not sure if he should smile or hang his head. “I will. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well after everything he’s done it’s the least I can do.”

That did bring out a smile. “Thank you. Keep your family safe,” he added as a finally warning.

“Heh. Don’t have to tell me twice. You do the same.”

“I will.” He’d have clan members out on rotation guarding Shikadai 24/7 if he had to.

“Good. Jounin Jishin out.” The line went dead as Kitsuchi ended the connection, only for it to flare back to life an instant later.

“This is Jounin 003242. Your identification please?”

Shikamaru stifled a sigh. She knew damn well it was still him. “012611.”

“Thank you, sir. Do you wish to make another connection?”

“No…thank you,” he added in an attempt at politeness. She was just so perky and he was just so tired. “Was there any attempt made to intercede or record the call?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you can terminate the connection.”

“Very well, sir. Jounin 003242 out.” The line once again went dead, this time permanently.

Shikamaru removed the receiver from his ear, relishing in the sudden lack of pressure. He reached up a hand to rub some feeling back into the protrusion. Now to tell Udon what to report to the Kage and inform Naruto about the change in schedule.

Troublesome.

He palmed his eyes. Sorry Naruto. Seems I can’t quite pull off miracles yet.

“Hinata-chan,” the deceptively soft timbre of her grandfather’s voice stopped Hinata in her tracks. The meeting had been long and far more taxing than even she’d expected, and all she wanted now was to gather her daughter up in her arms and go home – possibly even sleep for the remainder of the week, but she wasn’t picky. Instead, her grandfather’s command forced her to pause and face him. She’d never been able to say no to him as a child, and that hadn’t changed as an adult.

“Yes, grandfather?” She asked, keeping her tone as close to reverential as appropriate.

“There’s no need for such distance, Hinata-chan,” he said, and Hinata bowed her head in embarrassment. “Keep your head high, granddaughter. This is not an inquiry.”

“Grandfather?”

“Walk with me.” He gestured towards the gardens with his cane and the two began a slow, even pace down the empty halls. Hinata, still of the childhood opinion that the man was above her, waited for him to speak.

“You need not be so meek, Hinata-chan. You are the wife of the Hokage and a leader of our clan. Stand tall.”

Hinata swallowed and rolled her shoulders. “Yes, grandfather.”

“You were quick to gloss over the identity of Boruto-chan’s attackers.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“No?” An eyebrow rose. “I think there is. Don’t insult me with a lie, Hinata-chan. You know who’s behind this.”

And you aren’t going to let me leave until I tell you. Times like these made Hinata wonder just how close her grandfather was to Danzo; she knew they’d had dealings in the past. Secrets only meant something to him if he was in the know. No doubt he wouldn’t let her leave until she told him something. The only question was how much could she afford to risk getting out.

“I’m afraid I have nothing to say on the matter,” she replied, warily testing the waters.

“No?” Higashi clicked his tongue disbelievingly. “Do you truly take me for such a fool?”

Hinata started. “Grandfather–”

He held up his hand, stopping whatever she was going to say cold. “I asked you not to lie. You were never very good at it. Misdirection, however, I admit you have a talent for. Quite like that husband of yours.” His lips thinned and Hinata narrowed her eyes. “But this is off the record. I will not speak of it unless you ask me to, of that you have my word as a Hyūga.”

“Your word,” Hinata reiterated under her breath, her bangs shadowing the upper half of her face. “Tell me, grandfather, how much is your word worth?”

Higashi appraised her for a moment and then returned his attention to the hallway. “You doubt me.”

“Yes.” Her expression flashed. “Is your word worth my son’s life? My daughter’s? Because that’s what’s at stake if sensitive information is leaked to the wrong person. Forgive me, grandfather, but can you truly assure me that what I tell you will not reach the ears of our clan?”

“I understand secrecy far better than most, granddaughter. While your persistence is commendable, do not presume I am ignorant of the consequences. You were quite clear in the council chambers, Hinata-chan.”

“Clear,” Hinata mused idly. She relaxed her shoulders as the duo sidestepped a branch member going about her chores and only straightened once they’d left the woman far enough behind. “Yes, I was rather clear, wasn’t I?”

“I admit it was not the answer we desired,” Higashi said with a frown. The air around them shifted and suddenly they weren’t just talking about secrets anymore.

“No, you just wanted me to give you free reign on a blood debt.”

Higashi clenched his teeth, unnoticeable to anyone other than a Hyūga. “The blood debt is an ancient and sacred tradition of our clan. It kept us alive during the Warring Years. Your attempts to undermine it speaks unfavorably towards your ability to lead.”

That hurt, though Hinata had long since come to term with her own shortcomings. “I am no longer the heiress.”

“No, but you are a daughter of the Clan Head, and your sister’s life is not guaranteed. Should she die, leadership will fall back to you and your line. I only wish you would not allow your sentimentality to cloud your judgment.”

“Sentimentality?” Hinata murmured, the word passing her lips colder than the wind in Snow Country. “These people almost killed my son and you accuse me of holding the clan back due to sentimentality?”

“What other reason can there be? Your child has been attacked. At the very least you should be demanding blood, yet you stay your hand and prevent the clan from taking action.”

“I’m only trying to prevent us from making a rash decision,” she hissed. “I cannot condone the killing of innocent parties, nor can I put the lives of our family at risk.”

“But you do want blood,” he said blithely.

She glared at him, harshly enough that the old man was momentarily taken aback. “Whether I want it or not is for me to deal with.”

“You only buy our enemy time,” Higashi stressed. “Your unwillingness to answer will not stop us if the perpetrators are found. The clan is patient, but even I cannot say for how long.”

“It is my right, grandfather.”

“Your right, yes,” the elder admitted. “It is a right, not a requirement. You do us no favors with your silence.”

“If it will stay your hand, I do us every favor,” she stated through her teeth.

“A child of the head family has been targeted!” Higashi finally erupted, whirling on her with a ferocity Hinata didn’t know he possessed. She froze, posture rigid against the wall. “By the laws of our clan that more than dictates the use of lethal force.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She hissed, activating her Byakugan to ensure they were alone. “As you so readily pointed out, I was the heiress. I am well aware of the laws on blood debts.”

“And yet you keep your silence?”

“Yes.”

They were at a standstill, Hinata pulling herself up taut to face the angered visage of her grandfather. Aging and slumped as he was, Higashi had never been anything but intimidating, and the little girl inside of her whimpered.

Hinata shut her up.

A moment passed where neither spoke, before Higashi heaved a sigh and leaned heavily against his cane. “Very well, on the matter of the debt I will allow you your silence.”

“How kind,” she said, with an edge of mocking she didn’t know she could muster. “And the information you wanted?”

He arched his eyebrow. “My silence has a price. I will not challenge yours.”

I knew it, Hinata internally scowled. I walked right into that one. He wouldn’t challenge her decision to remain neutral on the blood debt so long as she gave him information.

She sighed, momentarily defeated. With her Byakugan still pulsing, she said, “Your word?”

The man immediately bit down on his thumb, waiting for blood to bead along the appendage before holding his hand out to her. “By my word as a Hyūga, I pledge that everything you tell me pertaining to this transgression will not pass through me. Should I speak falsely, may my eyes be yours to do with as you please.”

If Hinata was surprised by his willingness to risk his eyes, she didn’t show it. Or perhaps she felt it was the only fitting response for such information. Either way, she drew her own blood and shook her grandfather’s hand, sealing the deal.

A quick pulse with her Byakugan later, Hinata was finally satisfied they were alone. “The shinobi were found to be heading north, in the direction of Oto no Kuni.”

“Orochimaru.”

Hinata inclined her head. “That is our working theory.”

“Hmm,” Higashi’s brow crinkled in thought, looking his full eighty-seven years. “Orochimaru has always been power hungry and I have no doubt that has changed. That he has targeted Boruto-chan instead of the Uchiha girl–”

“Sarada-chan.”

“–does not bode well for the clan. If what you say is true, then I have no doubt Orochimaru is involved in some capacity. It is just a matter of how far his involvement goes.”

Hinata swallowed harshly and bit her lip. A small dribble of blood bubbled along the skin. She licked it away. “It’s just a working theory.”

“And one that fits, yet Orochimaru is not foolish enough to target a member of the branch family.” He side-eyed her uncomfortably and Hinata beat back the urge to squirm under his stare.

“No.” When she didn’t elaborate any further, Higashi turned away. What Shinjin was doing was of little consequence anyway when taking in the greater picture. The Byakugan may not be the prize Orochimaru wanted after all.

Or it wasn’t just Orochimaru.

“I see. The clan will be on alert.”

A peal of laughter echoed off the halls as they neared the garden, and Higashi’s posture shifted so that his body arched benignly over his cane. Hinata didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at the ruse.

The shrill giggles escalated once they rounded the final corner, and the bubbling from the fountain was briefly interrupted as Himawari darted into view, her little hand splashing about the water. She was covered head-to-toe in dirt and leaves, and didn’t appear to notice them before disappearing back into the bushes. Hinata moved to call out to her when an elderly woman appeared, the edges of her kimono damp and streaked with mud.

Higashi raised an eyebrow.

“Mei.”

The woman turned to them, Byakugan deactivating, and appearing completely unperturbed at being caught so undignified in the Hyūga gardens. “Higashi.”

“Mama!”

The little pink bullet that was Himawari barreled out from the hedges, her arms outstretched. With practiced ease Hinata lifted the child into her arms and held on. She ignored the dirt and grime and smiled as Himawari’s high-pitched squealing reached her ears.

“Mama, mama! Are you done?” Himawari bounced about in her arms as she pulled back, all boundless energy that had no doubt been stirred by whatever game she was playing.

“Mm,” Hinata nodded. “Mama’s all done. Did you have fun with Grandmei?”

“Yeah!” She swiveled and reached her hand out for the elderly woman watching them with a smile. “We were playing hide and seek.”

“Hide and seek?” But Himawari hadn’t activated her Byakugan in almost a year. Surely it was too soon to start her training.

The little girl bobbed her head vigorously, uncomprehending of the feat she had been performing. “Yep! We were training. Grandmei says I’m really really good!”

“She certainly is,” the elderly woman admitted, drawing closer to the group on the porch. “Himawari is quite the good little hider.”

Really? Hinata raised a brow and eyed the grinning little girl, who obviously didn’t understand just how much of a compliment she’d been given. Mei had one of the most powerful Byakugan in the clan. To be able to hide from her was quite a feat.

Mei studied her intently and smiled at the child. “Hima-chan, why don’t you show your mother how good you are at hiding.”

“Yeah!” Himawari squirmed out of her mother’s grasp and ran barreling off into the bushes. “Watch me, mama!”

Himawari disappeared into the foliage and Hinata activated her Byakugan out of habit. Mei was right; Himawari was very good at hiding. The purpose of hide and seek in the Hyūga clan was three-fold: sensing, expanding, and controlling. As a child with a developing Byakugan, Himawari was only on the first stage, but to be able to sense an activated dōjutsu at her age and hide from it was impressive. Against her own peers Himawari would have made quite the challenge.

“How was your meeting?” Mei asked, siding up to them as they allowed the little girl a few minutes of play. “You were in there for a long time.”

“It was informative,” Higashi replied.

“Oh?” Mei questioned, the sleeve of her kimono brushing against Hinata’s hand. “And is the clan privy to any of this information?”

Higashi scowled, the frown taking up quite a bit of his face in an expression only his wife could ever get out of him. “Yes.”

Mei quirked a brow, waiting, but it did little to sway Higashi. He instead turned pointedly to Hinata. “I believe if we wait any longer Himawari-chan will wonder why we are not searching. If you’ll excuse me.” He skillfully maneuvered his hunched form away from the two women and down the steps into the garden.

Once he was far enough away, Mei chuckled. “In case you were wondering, that’s his way of telling me to ask you.”

“I gathered,” Hinata sighed, though she didn’t quite understand the necessity. The council would be sure to spread the news to the rest of the clan anyway.

“So? What happened?”

“Boruto’s injuries are more severe than was released. The elders have called for a blood debt.”

Mei nodded, the only indication of her surprise being a slight tightening of her lips. “I see. And your response?”

“I didn’t give one. It's too soon for us to act rashly.”

“But you want it.”

“Grandmother…”

She held up her hand. “I know. You want to stay neutral.” Her eyes were pitying and Hinata wanted nothing more than to cave into her grandmother’s arms and say that yes, she wanted to take up the blood debt and yes, she wanted to watch these people bleed, but she didn’t and she couldn’t because to do otherwise would bind her to a promise she didn’t think she could keep.

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Hinata said after a moment’s pause.

“Do you want my advice?”

Did she? She certainly needed something. “Yes. I want someone to tell me I’m doing this right.”

“Well,” Mei paused, staring at the sky. “I can’t tell you that, Hinata-chan. Whether the clan is right or not is for hindsight to decide, but I can tell you that you are doing everything you can, and that will have to be enough.”

“But I can do more. I should do more.” She couldn’t just stand around and wait for her daughter to be next.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Take it from a mother who’s already lost a son to Konoha’s enemies,” Mei stated, shadows clouding her eyes in such a way Hinata was almost comforted. “To deny yourself the right to their blood will leave a hole inside you that will fester for the rest of your life.”

Would it? She supposed out of everyone, her grandmother would know best. The aftermath of the Hyūga Affair was engraved into her memory, but, “I can’t just take revenge like that.” She’d seen what seeking vengeance did to people too many times to believe it satisfying, but she couldn’t think of anything else that would sooth the rage in her heart.

Her grandmother tsk-ed. “You of all people know a blood debt has rules. The clan would not allow you to lower yourself to revenge.”

Easier said than done, Hinata groused. The line between the two was so thin it was almost nonexistent.

“I just…I don’t know. I need–” she broke off. What did she need? Her hand brushed against the case of senbon in her leg pouch and Hinata hung her head to hide the guilt. “I want them to pay,” she was whispered into her chest – as if she were already defeated, and it was a wonder Mei heard her at all.

“They will,” the elderly woman promised, her voice coated in a comforting measure of steel. “I can assure you, they will. They have attacked a precious child of our clan and the Hyūga are nothing if not thorough. And if you believe there is more you can do, just know that we will support you.”

“Thank you, grandmother.”

“You are most welcome, Hinata-chan.” She patted her granddaughter’s leg and twisted their hands together. With a small tug, Mei grasped hold of the doorframe and moved to hoist them both up. “Now come on, we’ve given my husband long enough. If he hasn’t found Hima-chan by now then he’s more out of shape than I thought.”

Hinata smiled and allowed the woman to guide her into the gardens.

He was running.

Blood pounded painfully in his ears and he could taste salt on his lips. His face was a mask of sweat, induced from the adrenaline of his search rather than any actual exertion. Around him was a moving mass of bodies. They stalked silently through the trees in groups of three or four, though from his angle it was impossible to discern any facial features; some followed behind him, some below, and some above. He had the sense that more were at his sides, but felt no inclination to turn his head and find out.  

The early morning fog buffered against his face, biting into his sweat soaked skin. Something told him that it was strange for him to be sweating so much when it was so cold out, but the thundering of his heart made him almost too warm for comfort. His feet pushed inaudibly against a thick branch as he soared further ahead of the group, and somewhere between the rush of weightlessness and the laws of gravity he felt a brief flash of fear. It echoed along his periphery and he knew instinctively the fear wasn’t his. It came from further in the forest. His pupils thinned as he cast out his senses, blanketing the area.

He was searching for something.  

The fear spiked again, directing him north. He pivoted against a tree trunk and sprung once more into the air, shifting directions instantly. The others followed behind, but they were too slow. He pushed ahead. The beacon of fear was soon joined by pain, and it sent a shot of terror through his body that he couldn’t explain.

He was the strongest shinobi in the world. What did he have to fear?

More pain lashed at his senses and he snarled. Sweat again broke out under his arms as anger welled up in his stomach. It warred with terror, leaving him nauseous with every step he took. He brushed it aside to deal with later.  

The sounds of a struggle resounded faintly from up ahead, and he pushed on, splintering the branches under his feet. A few of his followers caught up and fell in behind him, but he took hardly any notice. Someone screamed.

He was fighting.

He couldn’t tell with whom. They were simple fodder beneath his fingers. He chased after the fleeing group as his followers dealt with the distractions. His attention focused on the struggling child held under the leader’s arm. For some reason, he seethed.

One of the escaping men made a hand sign, but he was too distracted by the child to notice. It was a boy – his mouth open in a wordless cry and blue eyes shimmering. He reached out his hand for the child and then–

“Naruto!”

“Naruto!”

The blond shot upwards with a gasp. He scrounged about for a weapon and was a bit surprised to be met with the feeling of rough upholstery rather than cool metal. Someone grasped his shoulder and he was subconsciously maneuvering to flip them over his head when his wrist was encased in a strong grip.

He blinked.

“Baa-chan?” He was in the hospital. The sound of Boruto’s machines echoed about the room in a hum, and the genjutsu on the window showed that the sun had long since set. He blinked again.

“You were having quite the dream,” Tsunade said blithely. A clipboard was settled against her hip and if not for the way her eyes trailed him he would have believed she was truly unconcerned. “Any more tossing and turning and you would have woken up to a broken nose and a bloody floor. Thought I’d save myself the trouble of fixing you.”

“Thanks,” Naruto murmured, not quite able to muster up a better reply. He ran a hand down his face and stifled a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. The reports are over there.” She pointed to a pile of neatly stacked papers in the corner. “In my experience, they don’t exactly make the best pillows.”

Naruto huffed, the shadow of a smile curling on his face. “I don’t know. They’re better than the desk.”

“Until you get complaints that there’s saliva on the building permits, sure.” She cast him an admonishing look over her shoulder before returning her attention to one of the machines. “But you’re on a sofa now, not a desk, so you can save us both the trouble of trying to read through smudged reports.”

“Sorry,” he said, almost sheepishly. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Seeing as you didn’t sleep last night and have been running around non-stop for two days, I suppose that makes sense.”

Naruto frowned. “Are you angry with me, baa-chan?”

“Angry? No.” She set aside the chart she’d been updating and turned fully to face him. “But I am concerned.”

“I’m fine.”

Tsunade snorted. “No you’re not. Your skin is so pale I’d mistake you for a corpse, there’s stubble sprouting on your chin, your hands are shaking, and the bags under your eyes make you look like you were on the wrong end of a bar fight. And this is after you’ve slept.” She crossed her arms. “Granted, that was only for, what, an hour? Two?”

He glanced away. “Something like that.” He recalled having dinner with Shikamaru, and was fairly sure he’d been awake for a good few hours after that.

“And it wasn’t even a restful sleep from what I saw.” Tsunade clicked her tongue. “Do I have to give you a sedative?”

“No,” Naruto replied quickly. Considering the dosage he needed, if anything happened he’d be next to useless. “I’ll sleep tonight.”

Tsunade hummed disbelievingly into the back of her throat. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll see.” She went back to analyzing Boruto’s charts. “Well, if you need it let me know. I’m on the night shift again.”

Naruto’s lips twitched. “You sure you’re not the one who needs a sedative, baa-chan? I mean if I lose sleep I just look tired. You lose sleep and people might actually realize how old you are–ow!” He rubbed the top of his head and glared at the woman.

“Keep talking like that, brat, and I’ll give you a different kind of sedative. Got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.” She made a note in the margin of one of the records. “And I did sleep. Unlike you, I know how to stop.”

“No wonder you never finished the paperwork,” Naruto retorted lightly. He immediately cowed as soon as she raised her fist again. “Sorry.”

“Tch. This coming from a man who is quite literally sleeping under mountains of the stuff. I walked into that office last night and thought I’d died and gone to hell.”

“Feels like it sometimes.” He gazed earnestly up at her. “How did you ever manage it all?” Because even with his clones, he still spent most nights drowning under all the reports.

She smiled somberly. “We weren’t at peace. What happened in Konoha didn’t matter so much to the rest of the world unless it meant war.” Her smile turned into something a little more teasing. “We also weren’t our own city-state back then. It’s amazing how a lack of fighting can turn people into rabbits.”

“Really, baa-chan?”

Tsunade lifted her shoulders. “I’m just saying. When people aren’t making war, they’re making love.”

Naruto stifled a groan and rubbed his face once more. “You’re not helping.” He expunged a gust of air into his hands. “Peace wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”

“Ha!” Tsunade chortled. “If only. If there’s one thing people are good at its war. This international cooperation you’ve spawned goes against everything we know how to do. Did you really expect it to be easy?”

No, he hadn’t, but he also hadn’t expected people to be so bullheaded. They’d been so ready to adopt peace after the war, but only a few years later and already someone was trying to destroy it.

“If you really want my advice,” Tsunade said after a moment, “don’t try to do everything at once. Some reports can wait or be passed off for someone else to deal with. Focus on the important ones first.”

“I try,” Naruto stressed, “but the minute I finish them, more ‘important’ ones come in. It’s a never-ending cycle.”

“Now you know why I was always drinking.”

Naruto waved the excuse away. “Don’t make excuses. You were drinking long before you became Hokage.”

Tsunade shrugged. “Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” She eyed him up and down. “Maybe you should try it.”

“Hinata would kill me.” He thought for a minute. “So would Shikamaru.”

“It’s an option.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “You’re not actually suggesting I become an alcoholic are you?”

She shook her head, fine lines forming at the corner her eyes. “No. You start to copy me and I’ll be the first person in line to whip you back into shape.” She raised a finger threateningly and Naruto actually leaned away from her just in case she decided to give him a demonstration.

“Heh. Good to know.”

“That said,” she added softly, “you do know that if you really need help all you have to do is ask, right? And I’m not just talking about in situations like these.” She gestured to their dismal surroundings.

“Yeah, I know.” Even though it sent a surge of guilt through his body. She shouldn’t have to worry about politics when she should be enjoying her retirement.

“Good, because I mean it. Especially considering what I just learned about my hospital,” she finished off with a glare towards the ceiling, above which the rest of the hospital functioned as normal.

“Sakura told you?” Naruto wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, Tsunade was a former Hokage and had a right to the knowledge; on the other hand, he didn’t want her to know just how much he had failed in his duty as her successor.

“Of course she told me,” Tsunade stated, oblivious to his struggle. “They were my reports. I locked them away personally. The notion that someone managed to not only break into my files, but tried to forge them as well–” she broke herself off with a scowl. “I want to find out who did it. Then I want to find out how they did it, and then I’m going to break all the bones in their body to make sure they don’t do it again.”

Naruto frowned. “Sakura thinks it’s Kabuto.”

“Not a bad assumption. He certainly has the skills.”

“I know, and she raises a good point, but I talked to the attendants at the orphanage and they reported nothing out the ordinary. Kabuto was just as confused about what’s going on as they were.”

Tsunade snorted. “Kabuto managed to fool this entire village for years. He’s a good enough actor to easily trick some orphanage workers.”

“Not the ones I was questioning.” He shot her a meaningful look.

“Ah,” she said, almost sounding pleased. “I didn’t know he was still being watched that closely.”

“He is still on parole.” He rubbed his forehead. “Not that it’s still not possible. Sakura thinks he might be using a proxy.”

“It would explain the chops. Kabuto would never make such a sloppy mistake.”

“And if Kabuto has nothing to do with it?” He asked, because strange as it was, he didn’t want Kabuto to be involved. Not only was the man adored at the orphanage and finally doing something good with his life, but once Naruto forgave him for everything he’d done in the past they actually got along quite well. At the same time, if Kabuto had nothing to do with it then they were back to square one.

“Then we follow the trail until we find out who does.” She finished changing out one of the IV bags hanging beside Boruto’s bed and stepped away. “Well, he should be good for now.”

“How’s he look?” Naruto asked earnestly, happy to step away from the subject of spies for just a minute. He bit his lip in anticipatory concern.

Tsunade bobbed her head to each side, eyes on the child. “About as well as can be expected,” she said, simply.

When she didn’t elaborate, Naruto leaned forward, worry lining his brow. “That’s not saying much, baa-chan. Sakura-chan said he had a fever earlier.”

“He did, but we’ve already taken steps to head it off before it develops into something more severe.” She turned to face him. “I won’t lie. It’s going to take a while for him to be back on his feet, even with that Uzumaki healing, but you let me deal with that.”

Naruto wasn’t convinced. “You would tell me if something was wrong, right baa-chan?”

Her face softened. “I would. I’m not one to go giving false hope. But you don’t have to worry. He’s on target for what we expected. It’s just a matter of staying on top of him right now.”

“And,” he swallowed harshly, “and when do you think he’ll wake up?"

Tsunade’s shoulder’s fell. “We hope to wake him within the next week if nothing happens.”

“And if something does?”

Her lips pursed a bit, but she said, “If something does happen, you can bet I’ll do everything in my power to keep him on schedule and wake him up on time. Alright?”

Naruto nodded.

“Good. Now,” she straightened up and motioned a thumb towards the door, “how about you and I take a trip down to autopsy and find out what’s taking them so damn long, hm?”

The current Hokage clenched his hands together and chanced a glance towards his motionless son. He had barely any time with him today, and the time he did have he’d either spent working, sleeping or as a clone. But Tsunade looked expectant, and moving autopsy along could only benefit them in the long run.

He sighed. There would be time to sit with Boruto later. Right now, he needed to focus on finding his son’s assailants before they had a chance at escape.

Naruto summoned a clone to take his place and stood up.

“Let’s go.

“He’s dead!”

Hinata was aware enough to admit she wasn’t herself. The hours after leaving the Hyūga compound were something of a blur to the point where she hadn’t even realized night had fallen until Himawari was asking for dinner. Regardless, she hadn’t thought she was so out of it as to worry her daughter to this degree.

Perhaps she’d been naïve.

“What?” She picked the little girl up by the armpits, inhaling her freshly washed scent, and placed Himawari on her lap. They were seated on the edge of the child’s bed, soft lamplight highlighting on the pale pink of her bedspread. “Who’s dead, baby?”

“Bo–Boru-nii!”

A chill passed through her at the girl’s moan, and she smoothed Himawari’s still damp hair down in an illusion of control. “Oh, Hima. Boruto isn’t dead, I promise.”

“Then–then why are you so sad?” The little girl continued to wail. “You’re all black!”

I’m all what? Hinata shook it away. No, not yet. First things first: she had to calm Himawari down into something more coherent. “Hima…” She maneuvered the child around on her lap and leaned back so that they were both situated against the headboard. “I’m sad because Boru-nii got very hurt. When you or your brother is in pain, it causes mommy and daddy pain because we love you both so much. I’m so sorry I made you think–” he was dead. Hinata swallowed passed the sharp ache that sent through her chest and placed her cheek atop her daughter’s head. “I’m just a little worried.”

Himawari did not look appeased, but her cries had pattered out into sniffles and Hinata gently reached to brush away the remaining tears. “But–but Boru-nii is okay?”

“He’s still a little hurt, but he’ll be just fine,” Hinata said, hoping she wasn’t inadvertently lying. “And daddy’s with him right now so I know he’s safe.”

“Daddy’s prote’ting him?” Himawari asked, snot garbling her voice.

Hinata held her just a little bit tighter. “Yeah, daddy’s protecting him.” That at least Hinata knew to be true and was the only reason she’d been able to make it through the day without running back to the hospital. She smiled at the girl, happy to have soothed at least one of her worries, before sobering.

“Hima, can mommy ask you a question?” She asked, tenderly so as not to startle the child.

“Hm?” Himawari looked up, all shimmering blue eyes and innocence.

“What–” Hinata bit the inside of her cheek. “What did you mean when you said I was all black?”

“You’re all black,” she said as if that explained anything. “You were grey before, but-but that’s not normal too,” she petered off in a moan, and Hinata instantly began to rock her to stave off another round of crying.

“It’s not?” Hinata heard herself asking as she tried to come up with a logical explanation for her daughter’s distress.

“No.” Himawari shook her head vigorously. “Mama’s blue. Like the pretty flower Ino-oba-chan uses when my head hurts?”

Blue? She was blue? Was Himawari seeing chakra then? But chakra didn’t just change colors, not normally, and, as far as she knew, Himawari hadn’t awoken her Byakugan since the day of Naruto’s coronation. Not to mention Hinata’s chakra had long stopped being purely blue ever since the moon mission all those years ago.

“Am I always blue?” Because if she said no, then it just meant her Byakugan was activating without their knowledge.

“Yeah,” Himawari said, not noticing the way Hinata tensed beneath her. “People are lots of colors.” Her little face scrunched up. “But–but now you’re all black! Only sad people turn black. I don’t like it; it’s ugly! Can you make it go away?”

Make it go away? Hinata wanted to laugh. She would gladly make it go away if she knew what it was, but that would hardly be reassuring to a five-year-old. “I–I don’t think so, honey, but I can try. Is it okay if mama asks you another question?” She waited for Himawari to nod before venturing, “Do you see colors in everybody?”

“Yeah! But it was worse when my eyes were on ‘cause the colors got all wobbly and mixed funny,” she said, flicking a finger to her eyes for emphasis.

“Mixed funny?”

Himawari nodded, her mouth opening in a yawn. “Y–yeah, the special colors on top mixed funny with the chaktra. It made me dizzy.” She rubbed at her eyes tiredly and glanced inquisitively at her mother. “Don’t you see the colors, mama?”

“No,” at least not like she suspected her daughter did, “but I think it’s very special.” Hinata reached out to tap her nose, and pushed back the urge to scream. She wasn’t emotionally steady enough right now to deal with this on top of everything with her son. What if something was wrong with Himawari’s Byakugan? What if this hurt her? What if–

“You really think it’s sp–special,” the child asked around another yawn.

“Very,” and then, because her suspicions were getting the better of her, “is it okay of I tell daddy?”

“Yeah! And–and daddy can tell Boru-nii. Do you think Boru-nii sees the colors, too?”

Hinata wasn’t so sure he saw colors, but she did know one thing her son had inherited and it was his uncanny ability to tell what people were feeling even though he didn’t always interpret it correctly. “I don’t know,” she ended up saying, just in case. “Maybe we can ask him when he wakes up.”

“And that will be soon, right?”

Gods forgive her. “I–I hope so.”

“Me too. Don’t worry mama, daddy’s with Boru-nii. Daddy’s gonna protect him. So no more black, right mama?”

“Right.” She hid her apprehension with a kiss to Himawari’s forehead. “No more black. But now I think it’s time for bed. Do you want mama to stay here tonight?”

“Yes, p’ease,” mumbled the child, already half-asleep.

“Alright,” Hinata said as she maneuvered the girl off her chest and onto the mattress. She pulled the blankets up to cover Himawari and turned on her side to wrap her arm around the girl. “Goodnight, Hima-hime. Mama loves you.”

Drowsily, the girl replied, “Love you too, mama.”

For the next four hours Hinata lay there listening to her daughter sleep. She counted each breath and desperately tried to come up with an explanation for Himawari’s unexpected revelation. Was it something to do with the Byakugan? Probably. There had been a lot of discussion amongst the clan when her children were born regarding their eyes. No one was quite sure what to expect when combining Hagoromo’s and Hamura’s chakra, and there had even been a few on the Hyūga Council that had wanted to ban them from having children altogether. They had very quickly been persuaded otherwise, but it was only now that Hinata was beginning to realize exactly what they might have cursed their children with.

People turned black when they were sad.

So what colors, Hinata wondered, do they turn when they’re angry? When they’re afraid? Himawari had always been exceptionally perceptive, but she’d hoped, more than anything, to spare her daughter this.

The clock on Himawari’s nightstand flashed one in the morning when Hinata finally heard the familiar sound of her husband entering the house. His tread was heavy as he made his way up the stairs and her ears highlighted upon the minute stumble at the top, nearest Boruto’s room. She’d spent all day actively avoiding it, and maybe that was why Himawari had thought him dead.

“You should be sleeping,” Naruto said, his whisper loud in the stillness.

“And you shouldn’t?”

“I had to meet with Tsunade.”

“Hm.”

Hinata lifted her body from the frilly pink bedspread and gently shifted it so as not to disturb their daughter. With a bit of subtle maneuvering she left the bed and made her way over towards Naruto who stood rooted in the doorway of Himawari’s bedroom, gazing at them both as if to remind himself they were real.

“She thought he was dead.” Hinata said, soft words piercing through the air as she saddled up next to him. She leaned against the opposite doorframe so that their knees knocked.

“What?”

Her lip quivered. “Himawari. She asked me if Boruto was dead.”

Naruto looked as if he couldn’t even comprehend it. “Why would she think that?”

Hinata shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. She said I was sad and black.”

“Black?”

“Apparently, she’s inherited more than your whiskers.” Hinata shook her head in horrified wonderment. “I knew Boruto was like you. He could always feel others’ emotions. But for Himawari to see them…I didn’t want that for her. I didn’t want her to know what people were feeling.”

Naruto took in a shaky breath. “It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad,” Hinata scoffed. “I saw what it did to you when Kakashi asked you to use it around the village. There were days you would come home and it would take me hours to make you smile. And now I know I can’t protect my children from the same thing.”

“Hinata–”

“Do you think he felt it?” Hinata asked as if he hadn’t even spoken. “Do you think he felt their intentions?”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she bit the inside of her lip and traced their daughter’s outline in the moonlight.

“No,” she heard him whisper.

“Did you?”

“No,” he whispered again, barely audible even in the silence of the room.

“Why?” Hinata didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but she feared by his flinch that that was exactly how it came out.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to find out?”

“Yes.”

Hinata nodded as if that answered everything. “Good.”

She glimpsed up at him, her pale eyes pinning him against the frame and glowing in the moonlight. Any other time and place and he would have found it erotic.

“I’m going after them.”

Naruto’s heart stopped.

“What?”

“Team Nu. If there are any clues as to what happened to them, I need to find it.”

“Hinata, no.” Naruto stepped away from the doorframe, pulling her out into the hall with only a brief glance back towards Himawari. They left the door open just in case, but doubtful they could keep their voices down and they didn’t want to wake the child now.

“What you’re thinking is suicide,” he whispered heatedly into the darkness. “Three minutes. It took three minutes for these people to completely slaughter a five-man ANBU squad. How long do you think it will take them to tear through you? A minute – two?”

Hinata’s expression hardened. “You sound as if you have no faith in my skills.”

Naruto groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I have faith in your skills, but they already tore through one Hyūga jounin. What makes you think I’m going to hand them another?”

“Shinjin was not as good as I am.”

“So?” He gripped her arms tightly, only just refraining from shaking her. “They took out five jounin. You’re good, Nata. You’re one of the best kunoichi in the village, but sending one person against a group that can massacre a team of jounin in under five minutes isn’t something I’m willing to risk.”

“But I am.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. With a deep breath, she said, “Do you know what I had to do today? I had to look my family in the eye and tell them to wait. They were all for sending me to Ino and letting me slaughter every last prisoner there. And I wanted to! I had the chance to claim their lives right then and there and I had to tell my family to wait.”

Naruto paled. “They’re advocating a blood debt?” He hadn’t thought – no, he hadn’t wanted to think they would go that far.

She huffed, a defeated sound escaping her throat. “Not just advocating it. They all but ordered it. Boruto’s a member of the head family, and not only that but he’s still a child. If he were a shinobi on a mission it’d be a different story, but he hasn’t even graduated from the Academy yet. My family is furious.”

“And you can’t stop them?” Because if the Hyūga suddenly went off killing people it would prove a disaster for the village – especially if they killed the wrong person.

Hinata shook her head. “I tried. The best I could do was refuse to answer. At least that might make them hesitate.”

“So they’ll capture first rather than kill? That’s not much better.”

“It was the best I could do. They were adamant. It was either refuse to answer and buy us time, or give an answer and condemn potentially innocent people to death.”

Naruto scowled. “The people in interrogation aren’t innocent.”

“No,” Hinata agreed, “but others? Those who get caught in the crossfire? My family isn’t going to stop and ask questions. You know what they’ll be obligated to do.”

Oh he did. Learning about all the rules concerning the Hyūga blood debt was still one of the most horrifying experiences of his life. The worse part was that right now a part of him completely agreed with his in-laws.

“What if–” he took a tempering breath. “What if you said yes?”

A shadow came over his wife’s face. He had a hard time seeing her eyes from under her bangs. “I…contemplated it.” She looked up at him, Byakugan orbs shaking. “I won’t lie. A part of me wants nothing more than take up the debt, but,” she chanced a glance back towards Himawari’s room, “but if I said yes, if I took up my right to their blood, then I wouldn’t be allowed to stop. As angry as I am – as much as I want these people to pay with their lives – I don’t know if I can. I tried to ask myself what would I do if I had them at my mercy. Could I really end their lives so callously? A part of me says yes. They had no such compunctions with our son. But…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do if the people responsible were defenseless before me, and I can’t bind myself to a promise until I know for sure.”

A part of him was ready to bind himself to that promise, but she raised a good point. If the person responsible sat defenseless at his feet, could he kill them? He shook the question away. It hadn’t happened yet anyway.

“Your silence – will they listen?”

“For now,” she admitted, leaning fully against the wall. “But the longer this goes on the more likely they are to act on their own. Listening to my wishes is a courtesy.”

“I could make it an order.”

His wife flashed him a melancholic grin. “You do that and you can consider us excommunicated from the clan, if they don’t rebel first. Either way, they would go to great lengths to make our lives miserable.”

He took up residence beside her. “No offence, Nata, but your clan has to get rid of some of their laws.”

Her grin became more sincere. “You should have seen us before the war. It’s amazing how many laws and traditions we’ve discarded.”

“And, out of all of them, this one had to remain?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Some are more ingrained than others.” Her expression shifted. “But that’s why I can’t just sit here. The longer this goes on, the more danger our children are in. Telling my family to wait was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. More than anything I want to know who ordered this. I want to have the option of killing them, even if in the end I have to leave it up to my clan.”

“Hina–”

“Don’t,” she cut in. “You told me you thought Orochimaru was behind this, right? Well let me find out.” Her moonlit gaze was unwavering and halted any argument her husband might make. “We can’t do anything until we have proof and I can get that proof.”

“Sasuke can get that proof.”

“Sasuke is not his mother.” She calmed herself with a steadying breath before speaking again. “Sasuke is following one lead. Let me follow another. I’m one of the best trackers in this village. If anyone can find out where these people came from it’s me. Please Naruto, I can’t just sit here knowing that I could be doing more.”

“More? What more do you think you could be doing?” Naruto finally snapped. “Hinata, you’ve managed to keep the clan from sparking a war. You’ve kept this village running. Himawari–”

“Himawari is five-years-old and was one injury shy of becoming an only child!”

“Then don’t make her a one mission shy of a mother!”

Silence descended between them, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing. They stared thunderously at each other, both silently begging the other to reconsider.

Naruto regained his voice first. “Himawari needs you. She is terrified and confused, and everyone is leaving her. How do you think she’d feel if I told her you were gone and weren’t come back?”

“I will come back.”

“You don’t know that,” he hissed, desperately trying to make her see reason. “You don’t know that. Gods, Hinata! It took these people three fucking minutes to tear through five jounin. I am not sending my wife off to be slaughtered.”

“Naruto–”

“I need you,” he whispered, taking both her hands in his and holding them so tightly it almost hurt. “I need you, Hinata. I need you here – safe – where I know I can turn to you when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing either.” She brought their shared hands up to her lips. “I’m so confused I don’t know which way is up anymore.”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice coming out strained and desperate. “They’ve already hurt our son. What if Himawari is next?”

“She won’t be,” Naruto stated quickly, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her or himself. Unbidden, his mind flashed to the conversation he’d had with Sakura, and he snarled. “They won’t touch a single hair on her head.”

“And if I can head them off they won’t even have the chance.”

“Or you’ll just end up another corpse I have to retrieve! You’re not going, Hinata, and that’s final.”

Something dark settled across her face and she lowered their hands so that they hung like a barrier between them. “Is that an order, Hokage-sama?”

Naruto’s nose flared and his jaw shook from the force with which he clenched his teeth. “I am not sending my wife off to her death.”

“I’m not asking as your wife.”

“Then I’m not sending another one of my shinobi off her death.”

“And if I went anyway? What would you do?”

“I’d come after you.” He dislodged one of his hands and brought it up to caress her cheek. “I’d come after you and drag you back kicking and screaming, so long as I could make sure I didn’t bring you back a corpse.”

She shook her head, unwinding one of her hands from the clump so she could bring it up to cover his. “You send shinobi off everyday knowing that they might come back in a body bag.”

“I’m not married to them. I don’t have a family with them. I don’t love them the same way I do you.”

“But you do it. You do it knowing that shinobi might be all of those things to somebody else, and every time you send them out you trust that they’ll come back. So I’m not asking as your wife. I’m asking as a kunoichi of Konoha that you trust I’ll come back.”

Naruto’s expression flickered. His lips trembled and his hands shook. Hinata waited.

“I do trust you,” he finally admitted. “I just can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” She stroked the hand on her cheek, her thumb only stopping when he caught it with his own and held it between their fingers.

“Five jounin, Nata,” he reminded dismally.

“Then I won’t go alone.” She instantly flinched back, dislodging their hands. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that. “W–what I meant was–”

“Was what? Was that you were going ask Kiba and Shino to put their lives at risk too?”

“No! I mean–” She cut herself off. Much as she didn’t want to think it, he was right. It was the main reason she’d wanted to go alone; she didn’t want to have someone else’s death on her conscious. But if anyone was going to come back in one piece it would be Team 8. Hinata had to trust that. She took in a deep breath to calm her nerves and shot her husband an insulted glare. If it were any more heated, her Byakugan would have activated. She poked him painfully in the chest instead. “I didn’t plan on bringing anyone, but you have such a problem with me going alone it seems I don’t have a choice.”

“You do have a choice!”

“Naruto,” she hissed, eyes flashing meaningfully to their daughter’s open door. Both parents froze, waiting for any sign of noise. When nothing happened, they relaxed back against the wall.

“You do have a choice,” Naruto whispered, quieter yet no less vehement.

“What? Not going at all? That’s not a choice, Naruto. You say you trust me, but you’re not doing anything to show it.”

“Don’t say that. I do trust you.”

“Then prove it.”

Naruto shook his head, sucking on his teeth. “That’s not fair, Nata.”

“If it protects our children, I don’t care about being fair.”

A beat of silence and then, “I don’t like this.”

“I know.”

He rolled his head along the plaster, trying to figure out how in the world she had gotten him to even consider agreeing to this. “If – if – we do this, that’s still only three people.”

“Which is two less people likely to get us caught.”

“Or two less people likely to keep you alive.”

“And who else am I supposed to bring? Sakura, whose needed at the hospital? Shikamaru, whose needed with you? Lee, who has a genin team? You need Ino for interrogation, and Tenten and Sai for analysis. Temari and Karui are too connected internationally, and Chōji is still injured from his last mission.” She reached out to take hold of his forearm. “I trust Kiba and Shino. I trust them more than anyone to have my back. We’re the best tracking team in the village. If anyone’s going to pull this off, it’s us.”

Naruto’s brow furrowed, and if he bit his lip any further it would surely start to bleed. His eyes studied her closely, uncertainty and fear warring across his face. After a moment of intense scrutiny, he sighed, slumping against the wall in resignation. “Alright,” he relented, before pulling himself up and taking a firm hold of her arms. “But the minute you feel something out of place, leave. Don’t try to investigate, just get out of there. It’s not worth your lives.”

“If it keeps our children safe, then it is.”

“Not if you don’t come back to tell us what you found. I won’t take that risk and you can’t either.”

She smiled, face soft with understanding. “I don’t plan to.”

Naruto bobbed his head once. He couldn’t believe he was actually letting her do this. When this was over they were going to have a very long talk. “Then I guess we should figure out what we’re going to tell people. If you’re not seen, they’ll just assume you’re with Boruto, but Kiba and Shino don’t have that excuse. I can’t brush aside their absences so easily.”

“So tell them the truth. Tell them we’re on a mission.”

“I can’t.”

She started, surprised. “What? Why? We’re a scout team. It wouldn’t look out of place.”

“How it looks isn’t the problem,” Naruto said, crinkling the side of his mouth. “What I meant was that this has to be off the record.”

“Off the record? Why?” Hinata understood the need to keep it quiet, but to completely erase the mission from the records?

Naruto licked his lips, finding them suddenly very dry. His eyes roved around the darkened hallway and he cast out with his chakra subconsciously. The only people nearby were the guards and their neighbors. He returned his attention to his wife. “Sakura-chan found something when she was going through Boruto’s medical files.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Is he okay?” She started to move, already calculating how quickly she could make it to the hospital when her husband again took hold of her upper arms.

“He’s fine,” he reassured. “It wasn’t about him. It was the files. The ones in the hospital were forged.”

All the air seemed to leave Hinata and she stumbled backward. The only thing that kept her standing upright was her husband’s strong grip. “What?”

“Our best guess is that they were copied about a year ago, around the time Sakura-chan took over the hospital.”

“But that’s – how?”

“We don’t know.”

Her eyes flashed, searching about the darkness of the hall before landing on the doorway to her daughter’s room. She started and whipped around to face her husband. “What about Himawari? Did you search her’s? Are they forgeries, too?”

He bit his bottom lip. “Yeah.”

Naruto allowed her time to absorb the information. He watched as her pale eyes flickered back and forth as she absorbed what she’d just been told. Absently, his hands travelled down to once more grasp her own.

A moment passed. Then two. Until finally Hinata drew herself up with a sharp inhale and squared her shoulders. “There’s a spy in the hospital,” she said, dazed but conclusive. Her eyes met his. “If they got a spy into the hospital, they could have gotten one anywhere.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” She took a stabilizing breath. “Well, if it’s going to be off the record then I guess we do need something to excuse Kiba and Shino.”

Naruto’s mouth twitched, giving the illusion that the whiskers on his cheeks were bristling. “I could use clones,” he suggested somewhat unsurely. “I know them well enough to imitate them. So long as I don’t have to interact with too many people it should work.”

“Kiba’s the head of the Hunter division and Shino’s a teacher. They’re visible people, even if only to a select few. And that doesn’t take into account their families. They’re certain to notice.” Hinata grinned ruefully. “Though, the image of you trying to teach Shino’s class makes it very tempting.”

Naruto chuffed at the memories that raised. “Been there, done that, don’t plan on going back.”

“I didn’t think so.” She thought for a minute. “Well, if we can’t be on a mission together then send them on separate ones. Ones that require their specific expertise.”

“Shino’s a teacher, Nata. He’s not exactly on the active duty roster."

“So say that someone requested him. Shino’s good at being overlooked. People are far less likely to raise questions about him leaving than about our entire team. If they need to make an appearance at any point that’s when you can disguise a clone.”

For a moment, Naruto said nothing. It was a workable plan. Reasonable, and vague enough for people to accept without too much hassle. The only problem was that such easy plans had the tendency to unravel.

She shook his hands vigorously. “It will work.”

Until it doesn’t. Naruto pushed the thought away. He would have to use clones until the lockdown was lifted, but that shouldn’t be for much longer. If he timed everything just right, no one would suspect a thing. After a moment, he nodded his head in agreement.

“You’ll stay out of sight?” He pleaded, moving forward to rest his forehead against her’s.

She smiled, gently attempting to allay his fears. “No one will even know we’re there.” Her grin faded into concern. “You’ll be okay, right? You’ll remember to eat? Sleep?”

He nodded, incidentally forcing her to do the same. “I will.”

“You know I’ll ask Shikamaru when I get back, right?”

That forced a huff of laughter out of him. “I know.”

She slid her head down to rest in the hollow of his neck. Her warm breath tickled his skin as he wound his arms around her.

A moment of contented silence passed.

“Naruto?” Hinata’s whisper was loud in the silence.

“Hm?” Her husband hummed, the vibration sending a thrum of comfort through her body.

She tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. “You won’t try to do everything by yourself, right? You’ll let others help you?”

He quirked an eyebrow, bemused. “I have a lot of people helping me, Nata.” He had practically everyone in the village working on something.

But Hinata shook her head. “No, I mean actually helping. Let others handle the mission requests and day-to-day reports. Have Shikamaru or Tsunade deal with some of the meetings. I know you want to take care of the village, but you need to take care of yourself too.”

“Hinata…”

She reached up her hand to trace his cheek. Her gaze was a strange mixture of pride and understanding. “I know. You want to prove yourself worthy of the title. You don’t want the faith your people have placed in you to be for nothing. But that’s just it. They’ve placed their trust in you, and now you have to trust them.”

“The spies–”

“Are few. And now that we know about them, we can be prepared. But you can’t distrust everyone, Naruto,” she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “The people of Konoha are loyal. They love and trust you because they know you love and trust them back. Don’t forsake that just because of a few spies.”

Naruto stood there contemplating, unable to take his eyes off her. Then, slowly, he smiled. He pulled her back into his arms. “Trust you to put my head on straight. Heh,” he laughed, something wet lodging in his throat. “What am I going to do without you?”

Hinata giggled, snuggling up against his chest and placing her ear strategically so she could listen to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. “You’ll be fine. I won’t be gone long. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

“Not true,” he mumbled into her hair.

She smiled. “Maybe. Just know that I’ll be missing you, too.”

His arms tightened. He wanted to relish the feel of her for as long as he could. Just in case.

“You’ll come back, right?” He whispered after a moment, voice catching on the last syllable.

Hinata closed her eyes, memorizing his heartbeat. “Always.”

“You promise?”

“Promise of a lifetime.”

Kiba awoke to the sound of knocking at his window. He groaned, rolling over to catch sight of his still sleeping wife, and then to the flashing clock.

2:53 AM

He groaned again, louder this time, and Tamaki twitched in her sleep. The knock came again.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he grumbled under his breath, and then stifled a yawn.

Rolling off the bed, he grabbed his robe from a nearby chair and padded softly over towards the window. Only a trusted individual would be able to make it passed the wards without triggering an alarm so he wasn’t too worried, but, given present events, he grabbed for the kunai at his bed stand just in case.

He pushed the window open and blinked in surprise.

“Hinata?” His grip on the kunai loosened and he glanced around frantically. “What are you doing here? Is Boruto okay?”

“Kiba-kun,” she greeted softly, an undertone of resolve in her voice. The look on her face made Kiba’s stomach roll and he found himself standing at attention without even realizing it.

He swallowed passed the lump in his throat. “Hinata, what’s going on?”

“I need your help.”

“Transmission complete. Encryption accepted. Stand by.”

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Uchiha. What have you found?”

“Nothing good.”