Aspirant

Kakashi was decidedly grumpy the morning after Inosha, Kurenai and Amaya took the genin kunoichi on a short training journey. Despite not knowing why, Neji, Sasuke and Naruto at least knew to give him a wide berth to allow him to get over his snit.

Asuma, despite also not liking being separated from Kurenai after a few days of living together for nearly a week, understood- to a point. Gai, on the other hand, just pressed more physical training on the nine male genin.

Which was why Kakashi had retreated to a private part of the property, Pakkun in tow.

“I only have seven years left with her Pakkun, and they expect me to be okay with her being gone. I haven’t been this miserable since Tousan died.” For all his rambling, the Dog Summoner had a point, so the pug listened, even if he didn’t want to.

Amaya was enjoying herself. She got to snap and snarl at the little idiots, Ivera, now a full grown lioness got to stretch her legs, and Inosha was critiquing her dawn sword practice. It was a short reprieve from the pressure she felt with Kakashi, rushing for every moment, every experience, from the different sort of pressure that came from loving her children, but needing them desperately to not need her by a certain age, because . . . Snapping herself out of her funk, Amaya reminded herself that the kunoichi simply needed to be taught, and that snapping at them wasn’t productive. Blowing out a breath, Amaya proceeded in thrashing the brats and Kurenai until they had a basic grasp of kenjutsu, while Inosha alternated between cackling and reminiscing, glad to be included instead of left to rot in the Yamanaka compound.

In the Hokage Tower, Hiruzen was sleeping covertly, while Orochimaru flipped through his paperwork, making it so his sensei only had to sign things, and he could brief the older man when he woke. Orochimaru turned his thoughts to the Jounin Exam they would have to put together for his niece. Hayate Gekkou to test her kenjutsu, Genma, Raido and Aoba to test her melee skills, and I think Gai to test her taijutsu. I’ll make it clear she needs to demonstrate all her abilities, because she’ll blow through every opponent except Kakashi easily. And the Village needs to see how strong she is. Aisha only made it through undetected as an Uchiha or Hatake because she looks like a mix of the two, and focuses on her Suiton jutsus- as expected of a descendant of Tobirama Senju.

Orochimarus’ thoughts fell away from organizing his nieces’ jounin exam to the more troubling task of keeping Konoha shinobi in the field. He disliked the paperwork involved, was glad he’d listened to his sensei, but . . . it felt good, right to be in Konoha, occasionally commanding teams, but usually training the Chunin, sparring with Jonin. He’d learned long ago that the only Genin he didn’t scare were his own team, long since promoted. Anko was his apprentice- or had been, Hitoshi Hyuuga was the commander of Hiashis’ Jyuuken Guard, since Hizashi had died years ago, and the last one, Kaoru Itsuki, had long since become entrenched in T & I. Well, he also didn’t scare his godson, Neji, or his niece Amayas’ wards, Faith and Honor (but they’d never been Genin), and apparently Sasuke Uchiha respected him.

Discarding his musings, Orochimaru flipped through another stack of pages and scowled. Stupid civilians wanted to limit shinobi residential housing. Didn’t they realize just how involved in the protection of Konoha the reproduction of shinobi was?  Snorting, he sorted the papers he’d sifted through thus far, his scowl returning when he noticed that Genma Shiranui had applied for leave in the next few weeks. I need out of the office, and a visit to Shiranui would be just the thing. I believe he’s in the Village anyway. Nodding to himself, the Snake Sage penned a neat note to his sensei, and swept out into the streets, that bittersweet emotion in his chest erupting as it always did when he saw the Sannin monument. The mural depicted him with his teammates, Jiraiya and Tsunade, with a plaque dedicating the mural to them for surviving Hanzo. Shaking off the what ifs that always plagued him, he continued on his way sedately, stopped here and there by shinobi he had saved on missions, the civilians his work in the lab had saved from a horrible influenza a few years back. Normally, Orochimaru preferred to take to the rooftops, somewhat embarrassed that so many people wanted to talk to him. But today, it delayed him from finding and talking to Shiranui, which delayed his return to that accursed office, which was boiling in the summer heat.

Hitoshi, with his own son in tow, came out of the Hyuuga compound and called

“Orochimaru-sensei! Hiro was just asking for you.” Three year old Hiro fussed to be let down, and as many of the Village children, civilian or shinobi did, called

“Oro-ji!” Running as fast as three year old legs could carry him, shrieking his delight when the Sannin picked him up and tossed him in the air, deftly catching the boy.

Hitoshi smiled warmly at his sensei, a by-product of spending his formative years with the cheery Kaoru and the slightly older Kakashi Hatake, as well as the well-meaning Anko. Kakashi had hung around Orochimarus’ team the first few months on Amayas’ orders, and had made a considerable impact on his students. Once he ensured his honorary grandson was settled comfortably on his hip, Orochimaru turned to the jonin.

“Have you seen Genma Shiranui?” He inquired pleasantly, shifting when Hiro grabbed for his hair. Hitoshi nodded

“He’s out at the bukijutsu practice ranges, or he was ten minutes ago when I used the Byakugan to find Hiro.” Thanking his student, Orochimaru gently told Hiro he had to do some work for the Hokage, but he would be back soon. Disappointed not to have Oro-ji by himself, the downtrodden youngster toddled back to his father.

Hurrying now, Orochimaru found the bukijutsu range, settling into an easier pace, walking quietly to where Shiranui was practicing his senbon throwing.

“I am afraid I need to ask you to postpone your leave.” Shiranui turned and arched a brow at the blunt speaking Elite Jonin, the Tokujo disinterested but listening. Orochimaru elaborated

“An Uchiha survived the Massacre, and we need her skills tested.” Shiranui froze, turned to him, and croaked

“Uchiha?” Arching his own brow, Orochimaru nodded and answered

“Yes, you probably knew her before she faded into obscurity, Amaterasu, Kakashis’ friend.” Disappointment swam in the other mans’ eyes. Orochimaru frowned.

“What is it?” He prodded, needing to know what had the Tokujo upset. Setting his jaw, Genma exhaled.

“When I was younger, I knew an Uchiha, only a year younger than Amaterasu. Her name was Hisana, and I hoped-” The Tokujo broke off his sentence, turning away from Orochimaru, but the older man wasn’t offended. After all, he knew quite a lot about hope and disappointment. Resting a hand on Genmas’ shoulder, Orochimaru said with uncharacteristic gentleness

“Perhaps you should sit out this assessment, I’ll have the Hokage give you some extra leave to get used to the presence of Uchiha-sama.” Genma shook his head, and muttered

“I’ll be there, if only to ask questions.” Nodding again, the Sannin turned away, back to Hokage Tower, detouring to the orphanage, paying special attention to the more acrobatic or science inclined children, answering questions from the few Academy students’ who lived here.

Once he returned to his sensei, the paperwork began again, and, amused to shake his sensei awake, Orochimaru put his nose to the grindstone, promising himself a day of wonderful training far away from Konoha in the next week. No matter how accepted he was now, he couldn’t help but remember the days of being a freak outcast.