Chapter 10
Oh my god, guys. Officially I’m on hiatus, because I’m having exams and I really shouldn’t be writing – but I’m doing it anyway! Wish me luckDDD:
On another note: someone kindly brought it to my attention that I might have been depriving you of scenes that would be interesting, like student/teacher shenanigans between Hisana and Genma or Kakashi, team Eta moments, or Ran and Fudo’s memories of Shisui. Aaannd … she’s right. I cut those out because the story is already moving at a snail’s pace – BUT: I’ve decided they’d make nice extras.
Sooo … the first one is a team Eta moment, because I love Tenzo. And I love you guys too, so it fits:)
“So what do you think?”
Kakashi stares at her, or maybe through her. There’s not much information that Hisana could offer him. Not without entering the sturdy little tree house that the missing-nin seemed to have cobbled up. Zabuza’s chakra signature was easy to recognize inside; a testament of just how close Kakashi came to snuffing him out completely. But she still didn’t dare come too close, even when Haku left again nearly four hours later. It’s not great loss though, because even from afar Hisana is fairly certain that Zabuza is at least awake by now.
She watches her team leader’s vacant expression with measured patience. Gears are turning behind that blank facade; Hisana is used to waiting quietly until he sorts through everything.
“Hmmm.” He scratches his chin, eye squinting into the air. “An ambush would be too risky. We would both need to go and leave Tazuna-san with only my cute little students.”
“And we can’t be sure Gato won’t send more,” Hisana agrees. “So what now?”
He taps his masked cheek thoughtfully.
“Well, they don’t know about you yet. How good are you with the Kagebushin no Jutsu?”
Abysmal. The answer is ‘abysmal’.
In the end Hisana has to submit to the utter shame of copying the technique with her Sharingan. “Like a plebeian,” she huffs.
“Yes,” Kakashi drawls. “How fortunate that nobody can see the Uchiha princess sink so low. Get a grip. Again!”
This time she executes the technique solidly, a little irrationally ashamed of her kekkei genkai. She sort of gets what people mean when they call the Uchiha ‘thieves’ – it cheapens the jutsu. Perfecting it will still take time, but the basics are good enough for most and few people ever appreciate the difference between simple proficiency and mastery.
“Kagebushin no Jutsu.”
It’s a little more disconcerting than the normal Bushin, mostly because it sucks more chakra out of her. But also because it’s weird to have a perfect copy of yourself blink at you from somewhere other than the mirror. The other Hisana seems to have similar thoughts; she pokes her shoulder. “Whoa.”
Kakashi claps his hands. “Children. Can we be professional enough to actually spy on someone?” Both girls turn to stare at him flatly. “All right – I’ll take that as a yes.”
The plan is simple: Hisana’s clone keeps an eye on the Mist ninja and the moment they move the clone dismisses herself – an early warning system of sorts. It’s all very anticlimactic, but in a way she’s grateful. A confrontation would have been playing with fire in more ways than one. Like this they minimize the risks but … it still doesn’t sit right with her. Hisana likes planning things through as much as possible. Leaving business unfinished like this, where it’s sure to come back and bite her, is like a persistent itch that she can’t scratch.
“Still so restless,” the other ninja chastises her as they watch the Kagebushin vanish into the woods. He squeezes her neck briefly before ambling off. “Watch the village. I’ll go keep an eye on the rugrats.”
For all the potential danger, the mission is actually pretty boring. Now that the threat of enemy ninja has been summarily shoved aside for later purview and Kakashi is back on his feet, the only thing left to do is wait it out. And waiting has never been her strong point.
Fortunately, while the village itself isn’t very interesting, the people are. Her arrival isn’t common knowledge yet, isn’t supposed to be, so she can’t interact with them. Part of Hisana’s surveillance duty, however, is to get familiar with the people and scout for intruders.
And so she takes up the old, familiar hobby of people watching.
It used to be enjoyable, back when it wasn’t a survival skill, back when she and Evie used to spend Sundays at the park, feeding pigeons like dorks. It’s not the same now, obviously. For one, people here have sadder things to hide. Back then they giggled about couples stealing kisses, children trading carrot sticks against peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, elderly women staring after young men as they walked by.
But now her eyes are sharper, her instincts for people honed better. During daytime everyone manages to act civilized. Sure, there are some arguments here and there, but the village keeps itself together. At night it’s a different story. There are mothers who dig up the last of their supplies, hidden from their friends to feed their children; drunken fights in dark alleys, fueled by helpless, aimless aggression; young women trying to sell themselves even while nobody has the money to spare. And the couples, of course, only few of them innocent the way she used to know, the rest of them wear wedding rings that never match.
Watching them is useless, of course. She doesn’t think that anyone has infiltrated, will infiltrate the village. What use would it be? Gato isn’t interested yet, Zabuza still hasn’t finished his job, and Haku has no use for such things. Of course Kakashi knows none of this, so she keeps watching.
She sees the little boy around town sometimes. Inari, Tsunami’s kid. He’s a walking dark cloud, spreading his black mood wherever he goes. People treat him with kid gloves though. Hisana isn’t sure if it’s because they pity him, or because they remember his father. He’s a bit like Sasuke that way, she muses. He’s been through so much, people are fine with enduring his impotent rage, and it’s not doing him any favors.
As much as Hisana tries to work up some kind of sympathy for this lost boy, it just won’t come. He isn’t hers in any way, not like team 7, like her friends, or even the whole of Konoha. A distant, removed sort of pity she can dredge up, but it’s dampened by the knowledge of how things are going to progress.
‘Naruto will take care of this’
‘It’ll be fine’.
That won’t always work, won’t always be true, but she’s willing enough to leave it at that in this instance. Children, no matter how pathetic to look at, are adaptable. He’ll bounce back.
Tsunami’s pain, on the other hand, strikes a chord with her. It’s not overt the way her son’s is. It’s quiet and turned inward, and few people seem to notice how she’s slowly falling apart. An adult woman’s grief has something vaguely pathetic, Hisana thinks. They’re not supposed to cry, especially not if they’re someone’s parent. She’s never seen her own parents cry, and ninja are notorious for being dry-eyed. The last time she’s seen anyone cry was Shizuha, years ago, when they were still younger.
But the scent of salt water that wells up at odd hours of the night or when the house appears empty isn’t even the worst of it. The worst is knowing that this can’t be fixed. There’s a hollowness to the woman’s eyes that speaks of a person broken one too many times. The village might be freed, food might return to the tables, Inari might grow into a good man, but Tsunami is still a young woman widowed twice and worn far beyond her years. She, just like the entire village, is suffering silently.
After only a few days Hisana can feel the despair creep into her bones too. It’s like their unhappiness is catching – a writhing, living thing that eats everything. Sometimes she envies Naruto his obliviousness. Sasuke and Sakura have at least noticed that something is off, quietly uncomfortable around most adults here.
“I wish something would just happen already,” she tells Kakashi a few nights later. “This entire mission is depressing as hell.”
“Don’t jinx it,” he shushes her, looking very serious. “I’d be happy to just finish this in peace.”
“You’re not that naïve. Zabuza will come back. It’s only a matter of time. I’m tired of this waiting game.” He musters her for a moment, then closes his book with a quiet sigh.
“When have you become so pessimistic? And it’s not like you to be so impatient.”
“This entire village,” she grits out, “it’s driving me crazy. The people, the suffering, the – the everything . And oh, yes, then there’s this S-rank missing-nin running around!” She throws him a heated look before deflating. “I wish Tenzo were here.”
“Me too, kid,” he says, awkwardly patting her head. She clicks her teeth at him and he swats at her face. “You know what they say about biting the hand that feeds you.”
“The day you actually feed me, and not just run away half-way through, is the day I’ll retire.”
The day her shadow clone pops, it is almost a surprise. The bridge is so close to being finished, Hisana has been expecting it any day now, but the rush of adrenaline and memories still catches her off guard. They’re moving fast. It’s as if Zabuza has no recovery period – he goes from bedridden to rearing to go in a matter of minutes. It’s frightening; even Kakashi limped around awkwardly for a few days. Granted, Zabuza took longer, but the way he moves through the trees makes it clear that he too is back to 100 percent.
ETA seven minutes. She flies across the roofs so fast it startles a few civilians on the street. When the bridge comes into view she slides down the last roof and hits the ground running. Five minutes at the most before they reach the end of the forest. A shoddy genjutsu is enough to conceal her from the civilians, but the sound of her footsteps is still loud enough to have Kakashi rise from the ground in alarm. Hisana skids to a halt in front of him, adrenaline crawling across her skin like ants. “Go,” he tells her. “Stay out of this until I call for you. Sakura! Get Tazuna – we’ve got guests incoming.”
“Three minutes,” Hisana warns him before clambering up a shaky old crane. It’s not very high, but enough to get her out of the way; the perfect position to observe, as long as no one upsets it too much. The contraption sways precariously in the wind, but there’s no time to reconsider her position. Hisana clings belly down to the rusty metal, trying to calm her pulse. This is idiotic, she thinks, watching team 7 below send the other workers home in a hurry and Tazuna shake in his sandals. She wants to be down there – be useful. Instead she’s the surprise back up, hoping to … startle Haku into making a mistake. He’s too good for that.
But the team leader has spoken. She watches Kakashi nervously, trying to assess just how worried he is. But as always his face is a blank slate. Directly below her team 7 has formed a protective ring around the bridge builder. She’s close enough to see the sweat beading on the old man’s bald head. If she were an assassin … Tazuna would already be dead. Hysterical laughter bubbles up in her throat but Hisana squashes it down. It’s a lesson for another time.
She isn’t sure anymore how Zabuza was supposed to arrive, but this time it’s clear they startled him, not the other way around. He’s alone – as far as she can see – and when he touches down on the bridge, he finds Kakashi calm and ready, team 7 a picture of stubbornness behind him
“Well, well,” he drawls. “Looks like someone’s been expecting me.” He bursts into a spray of water, splattering all over the last of the startled working crew. They yelp and scramble to get away. Mist crawls out from behind the houses, from below the bridge. It’s thick and heavy and in a matter of seconds Hisana has lost sight of everyone but the genin below her. But she can still smell them – Kakashi’s nerves and Zabuza’s bloodlust, his chakra saturating in the mist as if he’s everywhere at once.
Naruto twitches. “Futon,” he snaps, spitting out a gust of wind just strong enough to clear the area for a second. Metal hits metal as Zabuza darts out of his cover, diving for his target. His giant Kubikiribocho comes to a halt inches away from Sakura’s head; the kunai wobbles in Kakashi’s hand. Half a pound of Konoha steel against one of the most feared swords in the Elemental Nations. That was close, Hisana thinks unhappily. She couldn’t have blocked that – if it had been up to Hisana, Sakura would be dead.
To her surprise, instead of pressing further, Zabuza eases off. His beady eyes dart back and forth between Kakashi’s stormy expression and the group of shivering genin huddled around the bridge builder; Sasuke catches his gaze stubbornly. And then the missing-nin’s shark eyes thin in a sinister smile. “Haku, you’ll like this one,” he says as a slight figure emerges from the last dredges of fog. Next thing she knows the sound of bodies colliding echoes across the bridge and the jounin take their fight onto the water. Risky, she thinks disapprovingly, but Kakashi will be fine. He has to be. Instead Hisana turns her eyes back to the slim, poised figure of Haku below.
“We’ll see,” the boy muses and makes a grab for Sasuke.
The fight that follows is … reassuring. Hisana hasn’t seen Sasuke go all out in years. Even before graduating he had been pretty impressive, but his speed is truly something. She watches with bated breath how they twist around each other, all quick hands and sliding blocks. For a moment she recalls Haku’s wish to be friends with Naruto and wonders what it would be like to see them sparring instead of fighting to the death; she suspects it would be beautiful rather than terrifying.
Sasuke delivers a vicious, crunching kick to Haku’s back and it sends the missing-nin flying, skidding across the wet stone. “Looks like I have the advantage in speed.”
The sentence sets off a tiny alarm in Hisana’s head, though she can’t quite recall why.
“At this rate we’ll be driven back,” Zabuza sing-songs from across, both he and Kakashi frozen at the sight of Haku’s momentary defeat.
“Yes,” is the only response; Haku chuckles wetly. A bit of blood dribbles out from behind his mask, speckling the ground. “Can’t have that.” His fingers twist into a modified tiger seal. It’s as if the air suddenly turned cold; the formation of Haku’s ice mirrors is truly a thing of beauty, but Sasuke’s fixed expression is not. Form here she can’t see it clearly, but Hisana thinks Kakashi’s eyes flicker towards her. Screw this, she thinks, thigh muscles tensing to spring. If this isn’t her cue, she’s going to pretend it is.
The crash is deafening as she slams through the topmost, half formed mirror. For a second the two younger ninja freeze in confusion as if time had suddenly ground to a halt. Outside, Sakura makes a choked, yipping noise. Haku twitches minutely away from her, even as he pumps more chakra into the jutsu. And Sasuke … turns wide, startled eyes to her. She grabs him by his shirt, ignoring the protest forming on his lips, and throws him clear through the hole in Haku’s defense. The splintered mirror closes behind him, glittering edges sealing shut and trapping her inside.
“Well hello,” she says, just a little breathless in excitement. “Fancy a dance?”
Extra
“ANBU Cat is to report to headquarters immediately.”
Tenzo stares at the messenger’s blank mask, a strange, squirmy feeling in his gut. It’s afternoon; few missions are actually given after midday, and those that are, rarely before sunset. Afternoon summons are bad news, everyone knows that. The messenger bows before taking off again; Tenzo stares after him with a daunted expression. In turn ANBU Tiger claps him on the shoulder – ‘better you than me’ – and wordlessly disappears into the thicket of the forest. It’s not quite a dismissal but close enough, and Tenzo realizes with a sinking feeling that he just missed a chance to spar with one of their most notorious for what is most likely going to be a well-paid kick in the nuts.
But he’s nothing if not a good ninja, a loyal ninja, and so Tenzo trudges towards the exit of training ground 02, resigned to his fate. The last time he was called in during the day preceded a month long mission in Hot Water – four weeks of luke warm rain and dense fog. He didn’t feel entirely dry for weeks after coming home. And dear god, senpai was insufferable. ‘Tenzo-kun, my book is damp – what if it starts to go moldy? The pages are all limp’.
He squashes the memory, willing the Hokage to have pity on him just once. It would be about time.
The Sandaime Hokage is not exactly an imposing figure. There are some who think that’s a bad thing; Tenzo isn’t one of them. He still remembers what it’s like to look into the eyes of an autocrat and know there’s no mercy in there. Someone who is strong and wields his strength with neither temperance nor righteousness. He’d much rather bow to the grandfatherly Sarutobi who might be harsh but not cruel. But right now even the Hokage’s kindly face can’t banish the disquiet he feels. In fact, the spiraling smoke of the man’s pipe does nothing but emphasize the silence in the room.
He wants to ask – badly. But an ANBU is silent until spoken to, and so he waits.
For fourteen minutes and 28 seconds. Then the door behind him bangs open and Kakashi-senpai comes strolling in. “Yo.”
The Hokage nearly cracks his pipe in half.
“Kakashi – so kind of you to finally join us.” The jounin scratches his cheek sheepishly.
“Well you know, there was this girl who insisted I buy vegetables and then we had a fight about whether tomatoes – “
The Sandaime silences him with a highly unimpressed look. Tenzo watches them stare at each other, most of his trepidation turning into disbelief. It’s a scene right out of a high ranking official’s nightmare. The things senpai gets away with most clan leaders can only dream of. While not much of a political force after the death of his father and the subsequent demise of his clan, Kakashi is respected and well-connected – far more so than any other shinobi Tenzo has ever heard of. It’s not unusual for him to just go off and do whatever, as if the Hokage were just a kindly old man, but it’s still fascinating to watch him brazen it out every time.
“Get on with it, Kakashi-kun,” the old man finally sighs. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have all day. This was your idea to begin with.”
Of course it was. Who else would so cruelly and completely unintentionally ruin all of Tenzo’s plans? Senpai clears his throat, suddenly the very picture of a composed elite shinobi, and presents the Hokage with an unassuming, rather thin looking folder.
“I request the formation of a multi-purpose B-level squad. Peace time mission activity has shown that well-rounded squads are more advantageous than highly specialized squads, and yet there are only two in rotation – the teams Delta, a half-retired jounin squad, and Zeta, a barely functioning chuunin squad.”
The Sandaime makes a noncommittal noise, waving his hand dismissively.
“And you know exactly why. Teams Alpha through Gamma have self-destructed because too many specialists in one place couldn’t get their priorities straight. Only Epsilon was ever really successful but was completely decimated in the war. It’s just not feasible to make them anymore – too many resources invested with no certain pay-off. What makes you think you can do it better?”
Kakashi’s eye crinkles a smile at him.
When they finally leave the Hokage’s office, the old man looks as if he feels a migraine approaching. Tenzo is unceremoniously shoved out, another manila folder pushed into his hands. When he opens it, Senpai still insistently steering him, he finds exactly three documents inside. One is a brief on him, the second one on Kakashi, and the third one belongs to a young girl looking sullenly up at him from what appears to be a candid shot. ‘Uchiha Hisana’ the document says, listing a small number of accomplishments and a truly staggering list of famous teachers. Top of Ito Oren’s class, under Shiranui Genma’s care, Hyuuga Kohaku’s student … and at the very bottom, in Senpai’s sloppy handwriting, it says Hatake Kakashi’s apprentice.
Tenzo sighs. Not even three hours ago he prayed for pity. Looks like he never really stood a chance.