Eight

A New Perspective

"Is it really that strange... if I look more like everyone else than my own father who raised me?"

"Whatever scared her must've been pretty bad," Kotetsu murmured, pulling his hand back and tucking it under his other arm. Izumo sighed from across the counter and looped his fingers around the handle of his mug. "Don't—Just listen to me! She came here because she was scared of whatever got to her!"

"Did you ever think that she, I don't know, might have been scared because she knew what she was going to do to you?"

"No. Because she wouldn't."

"Everyone has a choice." Big, green, fearing eyes. "And I'm afraid the next choice I'm going to make is going to be the wrong one."

Kotetsu shook his head at the memory and glared at his partner. "Sakura's not like that."

"Neither was Inuzuka Kiba. Neither was Aburame Shino," Izumo countered. "And look what happened—" he gestured in some nonsense way— "one of them stole a Forbidden Book and another one murdered his own cousin in the middle of the street!" He spread out his arms, some of his lukewarm coffee spilling onto his hand. "Shit. Whatever—'tetsu, look." He sighed again, and if Kotetsu heard that sound one more time, he'd lock his partner out of their bedroom. "I know you two were close, but... have you considered that maybe something happened to Team Eight when they were out on their own for that year and a half?"

Kotetsu snorted derisively. "Oh, you mean the whole prisoners-of-war thing they had with Kumo? Yeah, sure, maybe it was only a little traumatizing. The hell are you tryna get at? That they got brainwashed or something when they were out there?" Izumo didn't say a thing, his shoulders stuttering in a weak imitation of a shrug. Kotetsu slowly sat up. "What the fuck. You think they're brainwashed? That—That doesn't make any sense—"

"Not brainwashing. What am I, six? I'm just saying that when they came back from Kumo, they were... different."

"Different," Kotetsu repeated dryly.

"Don't tell me you didn't see it, come on. You know better than that." Izumo jerked his head in the general direction of the village's southern gates. "Aburame sweeps himself up in hospital work until he gets suspended for insubordination, Inuzuka practically gets disowned from his clan when just last month word was getting around that Tsume's son had stopped showing up at their compound, and your kid's practically a ghost with how much people don't see her around. They changed, and you can't tell me that maybe along the way that change was for the worse and we didn't see it."

"Shut up."

"You haven't noticed? They've got a spotless mission record, they barely interact with other shinobi, they aren't really seen with anyone except each other, and they aren't even getting along with their families—"

"I said shut up!" Kotetsu barked. He winced at the sudden pounding in his head and slumped against the counter, his hand over his eyes.

How could Izumo treat him like he was willfully blind? Kotetsu knew Team Eight was cautious and withdrawn and quiet, but he knew that they'd always been that way. After answering those chuunin exam questions the way they did, after completing soul-crushing mission after soul-crushing mission the Hokage assigned them to, after going through the Konoha Crush, after living through Koinobori Island, after Kumo.

Team Eight deserved the right to be cautious and withdrawn and quiet.

And now even that was being used against them.

"I'm gonna take a nap." Kotetsu's shoulders drooped as he stood up from his stool and shuffled into the hallway. He waved off the hands that reached out to steady him. "You can go back to work. I'll be fine."