Eight

Safest in the Rain

Maybe I thought I knew what it was like to not feel remorse at the deaths of the innocent.

But I'd always held that guilt.

:: ::

Tsunade's eyes never once wavered when Yuuhi gave her calm, steady report about what her and her students had done on their S-rank mission to help retrieve the Godaime Kazekage. There were a few nicks and bruises in the general account, but that was to be expected when working jointly with a team that included Konoha's #1 Knuckle-headed Shinobi.

But besides that? Besides being able to defeat that Hoshigaki clone? Besides the two encountered Akatsuki members? Besides the Akatsuki meeting space completely obliterated? Team Eight had once more delivered a flawless mission; one more clean file on the record.

"—after Chiyo-sama had given up her own life to revive the Kazekage, we made it back to Suna and stayed overnight before coming back here," Kurenai finished. Tsunade noticed there weren't any more bags under her eyes and she seemed to be back to taking care of herself, unlike back then when the loss of her genin team had struck her so deep in her core that she'd nearly become a walking corpse; at least she was making strides in her recovery.

The Hokage nodded and shuffled through a few papers on her desk. "I see. Was Sakura able to provide any additional intel from her fight against Akasuna no Sasori?"

"She learned the Akasuna no Sasori used to be partnered with Orochimaru in their organization, but nothing more than that. She made sure to destroy his heart as a preventative measure to any future occurrences and scavenged the battleground for anything useful, but nothing turned up," the jounin said. Her red eyes were bright and clear and her stance at attention was perfect for those of her standing. A model shinobi, if Tsunade could say so herself.

"Hm." The Akatsuki was still an unknown even though they were a bunch of slimy bastards. No surprise that nothing new had been found out about them. She leaned back into her seat. "Thank you for your report, Yuuhi. You and your team will be paid the standard for S-ranks including bonus recompense for the high political nature of the mission in the following seventy-two hours. Team Eight is assigned a mandatory recovery period of one week before being added back onto the mission roster." She nodded. "Dismissed."

Kurenai dipped into a respectful bow. "Hokage-sama."

As she left the office and stepped out into the hallway, she didn't close the door and Kakashi strolled in not a second after black hair swept out of Tsunade's vision. He shut the door behind him with a quiet click.

"Hokage-sama," he greeted politely, a smile under his mask and his exposed eye halfway crinkled. "You asked for me?"

Speaking of model shinobi, this man was a perfect example of a shinobi that wasn't. Procrastinating on reports, an insufferable cheek, little regard for decorum when it wasn't the utmost priority—if he wasn't such a damn good person she would have already punched him through a hundred different walls a hundred different times.

Minato did right by this one, but she couldn't say the same about her old sensei who stuffed him with genin where there were still fresh scars on his mind from the trauma and his time in ANBU.

"I want to talk about your most recent mission."

"Ah, hadn't I already given an oral report? Earlier this morning, if I remember correctly."

"Yes, yes." Tsunade waved a hand. "I brought you in again because I have a few questions on team member behavior."

Kakashi blinked. "For... Naruto? Because I stand by my assessment that he's not ready to take any more high-stakes missions, and if he does it should preferably be with me as his captain. He hasn't learned how to work well with others or listen to orders from an authority since his reinstatement as an active Konoha shinobi, and not to mention that he's still technically a genin regardless of his current skill set."

"I already know that," she replied blandly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she was quick to continue as she crossed one leg over the other and propped an elbow against her arm rest. "Tell me what you think about Team Eight."

He slowly shut his mouth, something close to pensive crossing what little there was to see of his face.

"Kurenai just gave her report, didn't she?" he questioned. "What did she say happened?"

"They encountered the fake Hoshigaki Kisame and battled him before trapping him in a four-corner barrier and killing him. Then Sakura and Hinata got switched for assignment purposes, on her end they fought clones of themselves until they met up with Chiyo and Sakura where they needed immediate medical assistance."

Kakashi hummed before he nicked his thumb by quickly scraping it with something hidden in his sleeve and running his hands through a set of seals. A summoning matrix and a puff of smoke led to the little brown pug Tsunade had grown familiar enough with, especially since she'd gotten visits from the ninken when Kakashi hadn't bothered to walk all the way to the Hokage Tower to submit his paperwork.

"Boss. Hokage-sama," Pakkun greeted curiously. "What can I help with?"

"We were just wondering if there was anything interesting you saw during Team Eight's fight against that fake Hoshigaki Kisame," said Kakashi. "You saw it all, didn't you?"

"Oh, that. Hey, Boss, why didn't you tell me that team was gonna be so goddamn weird?" he asked. Pakkun hopped onto Tsunade's desk and parked himself in the corner, meeting both the curious gaze of his summoner and the waiting one of the current Hokage. "That team, they've got this... dynamic, right? Inuzuka leads the group, Akamaru and Yuuhi flank the sides, Aburame's in the middle, and Sakura brings up the rear. That formation all the time and yea, that's probably one of those quirks they got which is fine and all but like I said, they're weird."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Give us a short play by play."

"Yes, ma'am. Sakura took the first blow from the fake and blocked it perfectly before he started shooting off all these water techniques. They're good at dodging, didn't get hit once, and the kids bombarded him with primarily taijutsu after Yuuhi caught him in a genjutsu." Which matched what Kurenai had said. "Aburame stayed behind; he released his swarm of insects and I thought he was gonna attack but he just... sent them all away for some reason? To run a perimeter right in the middle of that fight?" That was news to her. Pakkun shook his head. "It didn't matter, though. Sakura successfully separated the fake from his sword and the rest caught him in this four-pronged barrier Inuzuka made himself. Never seen anything like it."

"The seal," Kakashi mentioned, almost immediately latching onto the detail the second it was brought up. "What did it look like?"

"Uh, kinda crazy? It was four-pronged like I said and placed down at the same time and trapped the fake in these fluctuating purple walls. It flashed a bunch and there was never a set pattern, but it held up."

"Inuzuka-kun made an inconsistent barrier that worked?"

"Like a charm," Pakkun said. "I heard him say that you could overload it with chakra, but it would take five minutes to break. It was more than enough time than what they needed."

Tsunade pressed her lips together. Inconsistent barriers were one of the best to utilize because of their lack of pattern, complicated input, and delicate handling. In theory, it was the barrier of choice. But in practice? It was notoriously difficult to work without getting the sequences to blow up in your face and most seals masters didn't even bother. If they could work a consistent barrier and get it to function, much like the Five Seal Barrier mentioned in both Hatake's and Yuuhi's reports, then there was no need to waste time on getting an inconsistent barrier to even start up properly.

"They knew it wasn't the real Hoshigaki Kisame before the shapeshifting jutsu revealed itself. Sakura recognized it and executed him with his own blade." Brutal, but also matched what Kurenai had told her. Sakura must have some genjutsu inclination if she had been able to see through it. "Aburame's insects came back when we stopped for the night. He never said anything about it, so I guess they didn't find what they were looking for."

(He doesn't mention the moments spent burying the body.)

Kakashi rubbed his chin. "Hm."

"Something you want to add on to that, Hatake?"

"I'm just wondering why Inuzuka-kun isn't involved in Konoha's Official Seals Division, or something of the like," he said. "He's good and... well, like Pakkun says. Weird. He managed to figure out the Five Seal Barrier, the specifications, and had an idea of how to defeat it all within the span of twenty minutes. According to Hinata, he said he guessed that they would have to fight 'reflections' of something based on the Sacred Geometry Theory combined with his prior knowledge on seals."

He wandered over to one of the windows to peer out as Tsunade tapped her lip and reached for the cup of her now-lukewarm tea. And there it was again about Inuzuka Kiba's interest in seals. His rejected applications still sat under one of the many piles by her desk and no matter how good this brat might really be—which was unsettlingly good—her hands were tied, much like with Aburame Shino's hospital suspension case. Team Eight had simply been gone for too long at too young of an age to be outright trusted in high positions of power, and as much as she wanted to grant them what they rightly deserved, there needed to be a foundation for them to stake their claim.

For Shino, it needed to be a certain degree of obedience to be trusted with orders he might one day receive from his Hokage.

For Kiba, it was the success of maintaining chuunin rank for a year and half to ensure loyalties and willingness to take a position that required stressful mental labor and ran the risks of dealing with highly classified information.

For Sakura... that was more difficult. Because the girl never made any inclination of pursuing anything.

She sighed quietly and took a sip.

So many things to consider. It was almost as if Eight was in a rush for something.

'But for what?'

"I mentioned that Naruto had problems regarding authority," Kakashi started. He pulled himself away from the window just enough to turn and rest against the ledge, both hands stuffed into his pants pockets.

"What about it?"

"He doesn't do well listening to others," he continued. "But he listens to Sakura-san." Tsunade drew forward curiously. "On the mission, he was angry enough that the Kyuubi started to manifest. Nothing that was too concrete, but some of his features were elevated—he'd been like that the whole trip and I was afraid it had stewed enough to make him snap, but within a few minutes of meeting up with Kurenai's team and talking with Sakura-san, he'd almost gone back to normal."

"... I didn't know they were close. I didn't know he was close to anyone, which was one of Jiraiya's main concerns."

"I didn't either." He looked guilty. "I asked him about it later. Turns out they've been neighbors ever since she moved out of the orphanage upon attaining genin rank and she taught him how to cook. They eat together a couple times a week if they're both in the village." Kakashi chuckled a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Maa, maybe I'd pried too much. He told me to 'leave Sakura-chan alone, old man' when I'd asked one too many questions."

They shared the quiet of the office for a short while.

All the things she'd learned today, and she didn't have a clue of what to do with it. Naruto was just a boy with a sadness in his core that always lingered. From the moment she challenged him to when he tried to bring her back to Konoha, that little boy with a big heart and an even bigger hole in it... he had that want for what he'd never had (families, friends, respect, love), and she'd never known he'd found some of that in this girl she could never figure out.

Honestly, what was this team? Kiba and seals? Shino and his behavior? Sakura and her influence?

Kurenai... where did she stand in all of this?

Tsunade knew she said she'd cast aside her suspicions if Team Eight received a glowing report, but now she only had more questions than answers, and if things didn't start cropping up soon...

She spun her chair around. "Thank you, Hatake. You're dismissed."

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to be "good."

But I was nothing but a villain.

:: ::

"I guess a pretty bad storm rolled in," Chouji mused as he peered outside the window. The hot pot bubbled in the middle of the table as Shino slipped in a few more cuts of raw meat. "Lucky you guys got back before it started."

"Lucky," Shino repeated. He turned up the flame under the pot. "It seems we've been having a lot of luck lately, and it's not something I'm particularly thankful for. Why? Too much of a good thing will eventually be followed by something unsavory."

"Isn't that kind of a pessimistic way to look at things?"

"I find it better to have low expectations than to be let down from my high ones."

Chouji let out a strangled hum before spooning a heap of rice into his mouth and tried not to choke. While he enjoyed Shino's newfound friendliness and liked to hang out with him once or twice a week, he still couldn't say that his abruptness and blunt honesty didn't catch him off-guard anymore. His surprise still hadn't quite tided over since they started being friends.

He'd always thought Shino was a quiet, mysterious kind of guy. Turns out, he just didn't talk when he didn't need to and didn't bother with much of a filter when he did. Who would've thought?

"How did your mission go, by the way?" Chouji asked. He ladled some broth into his bowl. "I know there's a pretty high restriction on it, but it seems like the rumors are all over here and Suna."

Which were pretty wild. The rumors. He'd heard of insanely powerful shinobi and the death and resurrection of Suna's youngest Kazekage, but he could never tell how much was the truth. Besides, he'd only caught wind about the mission from Naruto's loud conversations and after his father had attended a Clan Council meeting.

Shino hummed. "The only person that died was an enemy. I suppose that's all that matters."

It was, but it still left Chouji's throat a bit dry even after he drank some of his broth. He was a chuunin just like Shino, and he was getting up in the ranks, but he still hadn't gone on one of those missions.

Y'know, one of those. The ones where your back went a little straighter and the kunai pouch around your thigh was a little too tight and your hands were shaking and you didn't know why, except you did and you didn't want to talk about it. After those missions, you were in your body but not your mind and you flinched a little too much when some got a little too close. It was then that you usually got sent in for assessments and therapists that knew the name of the game; because shinobi never really got better—not when they were retired, not when they were dead—so the rules were simple and you only passed when you played along. If you could lie your way through and you could convince them with well-placed smiles and clever answers, you were cleared for the next mission that might break parts of you that you never knew you had. If you couldn't lie, then it was sessions and medications that made it easier until you were on your next mission and you were given another chance to play the game right.

Chouji hadn't been on one of those missions yet.

He didn't have to ask if Shino had.

"Lucky, then."

"Too much luck."

"Is it really that bad to enjoy victories while they last?"

(The victories he enjoyed were never the ones on the battlefield. There was no joy when he swelled the chakra pathways in his barrier clone and watched himself crumple and bleed out from every orifice in his body, only a brief acknowledgement that his part was over. There was no joy when he successfully healed Sakura of the blade plunged into her stomach, only stuttering relief when she didn't die of poison or blood loss that day.

The victories he enjoyed were when he could feel the warmth of his pack somewhere under the stars even just for a second, where he could close his eyes and forget the world to the sound of steady heartbeats. Never winning battles. Never surviving wars.)

An echo of thunder rang outside as a light smattering of rain beat against the restaurant windows.

Shino placed a piece of cooked meat in his mouth and chewed. "It's not wise to celebrate a good thing too soon. Why? For the off chance that it blows up in my face, I wish to be ready and waiting."

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to take the fall for a traitor.

But I didn't realize the cost.

:: ::

The band was made of tungsten carbide; dark gray, had a melting point of about 3422 degrees Celsius, bolstered a mohs rating of eight to nine, extremely scratch resistant. There wasn't a hallmark to be seen. The center stone was a purple jade that ran at a fairly soft hardness rating of six mohs but retained its toughness through its compact composition; it was a translucent variety cut into a non-faceted half sphere with four tungsten prongs anchoring it down. Jade was a gem closely associated with heart chakra and held meanings of purity and harmony and balance, and painted delicately in the middle of it was the kanji for "jewel" or "virgin," but could also be the black king in shogi, gyoku.

Kiba blew out a breath as he tapped a pen against the plastic table.

Both Sakura and Shino were out, leaving him and Akamaru alone in the apartment until dinner, probably. They were all supposed to make this whole dinner of fried eggplant and whole baked sea bass that Sakura haggled down to an insane price which was an entire thing—

But, he'd checked out tens of books on metals in jewelry making and purple gemstones and even borrowed a few shogi strategy texts from Shikamaru. Sakura mentioned the rings had some important link in the Akatsuki, and every member she'd grown up with had some version of it.

Her own father's she recalled perfectly; the same dark metal, same four prongs, same sort of gem cut into a non-faceted half sphere. Except instead of it holding a purple jade, it had been an odd variety of yellow jade with the kanji for "south", nan, which apparently was short for the Southern Star. Not very helpful. Which sucked.

Ugh.

Akamaru gnawed on one of the beef bones they'd gotten on sale yesterday. "Perhaps the ring meanings are not as important as you believe?" he woofed. "Nan. Gyoku. There isn't much of a correlation there to begin with."

"Then why go through all the trouble of givin' them different names? Like, it would make more sense if they all had different colors but the same kanji, or—or like the same color but different kanji 'cause organizations, y'know? But different colors and different kanji... maybe it's like their positions in the organization?"

"Sakura never mentioned anything about the organization having positions."

"Yeah, and she never mentioned her dad was an Akatsuki until one of his coworkers stabbed her."

Akamaru raised his head and licked his chops. "Can you blame her?"

"... No." Kiba pouted. "But still."

He switched out his pen for a pair of tweezers and picked up the rings from the center of the chakra-destabilizing scroll Sakura told him to make for it. Nothing too familiar to him, but also nothing he couldn't learn after going through a few trial and errors. He even boosted the scroll after visiting Sato Akemi-san and spending a couple hours with Iruka-sensei for a brainstorming session. As long as part of the ring touched the sealing paper and never his skin, he was free to examine it however he pleased.

Not that he'd done much of anything other than becoming an amateur jeweler.

"The Akatsuki travel in pairs," he said. Akamaru glanced at him. "And there's at least six according to Konoha's intel and what Sakura's told us. Five now that Sasori's dead. They're never all in one place but they seem to communicate so... communication. There's gotta be a communication matrix somewhere in the gem or the kanji or the band..."

"They did also manage to extract the bijuu from the Kazekage. Do you think the rings could have something to do with that?"

"That's... not a bad idea. It's pretty damn smart, actually. A chakra link? But how can you make it that powerful?"

"You're the seals expert, not me."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Kiba stuck his tongue out and leaned forward to peer through the magnifying lens and once again scanned the ring's inner band. He rolled it until the jade sat face down on the paper and peered at the bridge—the place on the ring situated right underneath the center stone—which would be the exact place he'd put a sequence if the link had to do anything with the jade.

"Hm..."

He slipped out a senbon and started to scrape.

Outside, it rained. And rained, and rained, and rained.

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to love someone.

But I couldn't put my love above my duty.

:: ::

"What is this?"

Shibi walked into the living room and almost stepped on scattered papers and nonsensical notes, Shino in the midst of it all as he mumbled to himself and spun to regard each and every slip with careful consideration. Sheets covered nearly every centimeter of the floor, filled with things he couldn't fully grasp; he caught terms like body decomposition rates under extreme temperatures and arterial air embolism and something in his chest quickly decided to start falling apart.

When Shino told—not asked—him about becoming a medic, Shibi was surprised. The Aburame insect colonies were not utilized with healing in mind, and though they required a fair amount of knowledge on anatomy and chakra pathways, no one in the clan who housed kikai also decided to lend their skills to the hospital. Not in all his years of raising his son did the boy even shed an inkling of interest in the medical arts.

'And here is his team's influence rearing its ugly head yet again,' he thought with a suppressed sigh. The team he could never understand. Eight.

He had yet to solidify an opinion on them. He could never thank them enough for loving his son. He could never forgive them for the changes he knew would one day kill his son.

They walked a delicate, delicate wire with him.

"Research," Shino responded simply. He picked up a few papers to tuck beneath his arm and laid out a few more to replace them.

"On?"

"Body disposal and stroke inducement."

"... Ah." Well that explained it. "Just something that caught your interest, then?"

"Yes." The boy never looked up from his work, the gap between his brows scrunched as he mouthed the words he read off the papers.

Shibi stood off just to the side, almost a stranger in his own home. Awkward. Intruding. He almost had half a mind to leave his boy to do whatever he did on his own, but it was when he was half-spun around with the intent to retreat to his home office when a thought broke through his head like a pin through cloth.

He felt like he was intruding. On his son's work. In their living room.

He felt like he was intruding on his son who never came to dinner, who never slept in his own bed, who worked full shifts at the hospital, who trained with his team, who never made time for what was left of his family.

Who never acted like his son anymore.

Shibi re-oriented himself, even more of that something in his chest crumpling. "You know I don't see you anymore, right?" he questioned softly. "You never tell me where you go, and you don't even tell me if you have a mission. Did you know that I have to find out from the mission desk because they see more of my own son than I do? And I'm supposed to be your father." The Clan Head sighed, a painful wind from his lungs, and held one of his wrists to keep it from shaking. Quieter, he added, "I hate it."

Shino flinched.

"It's not you, never you, but..." He sighed again. "Please understand where I'm coming from. I don't know what you do and you're always so tired—exhausted in ways you shouldn't be. You lost your eye and didn't want to tell me, you... you came back from a Kumogakure prison and went back to work the moment you were cleared. And you expect me to believe that everything's alright? For a year and a half I thought you were dead and you come back like," he gestured to all the papers, "like nothing for you had even changed."

"Father—"

"I spend days wondering where you are and what you're doing. I wonder if you're hurt or if you're sick of if you're even happy because the last time I was ever remotely sure you were okay was when you first graduated three years ago."

The silence was like thick, bubbling tar.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

Shino didn't face him. Didn't do much other than stay in that crouch among his notes on how to kill people that might one day be under his glowing green hand. His head was turned so that Shibi couldn't read his face, but when was the last time he'd seen the face that wasn't masked behind secrets and silence and eyes—one eye—that was too, too tired.

But Shibi was tired too. Of the quiet.

Of the lies.

"Every time I see you it's almost as if..." He drew in a breath. "When I heard about your suspension at the hospital for, out of all things, disobeying authority—"

Shino began gathering all the papers into his arms. "Had I not taken that case for myself those children would have died. Why? The staff was not thorough enough in their initial screenings, refused my kikai scans because they believed them to be too 'invasive' when I had proven numerous times that they may be more adept at..."

He trailed off when he lifted his head and saw the resignation in the way his father's mouth pulled up into a weak smile. Shino pressed his lips together and organized the stack of papers until they were all in a neat pile, his hands scrambling for something to do.

"It took me a long time to admit this to myself. Far too long," Shibi started quietly. "But I... Shino, I don't know who you are anymore."

Hands clamp around the stack of papers until they crinkled.

"I admit my faults for that. Maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention or I refused to truly acknowledge what was happening." He bowed his head. "I don't know when it was exactly that we started to drift apart, but just because sometimes I don't recognize you doesn't mean I want to lose you again. You're my son and I'll love you no matter who you become, but you need to tell me things so I can help you."

The teen slowly straightened until he was standing. He and Shibi were the same height now, and his long black hair was pulled into one of those flawless buns Sakura used to wear before all her hair was sheared off. He was only fifteen but the angles were sharp, and he never wore anything that didn't cover from the wrists and ankles up.

'The scars,' Shibi wondered. 'I suppose I'll never learn why he has so many.'

Shino tucked the papers into the messenger back sitting on the couch and belted it shut. For a moment he did nothing, hands on the bag and his back to his father. Then, he slung the strap over his head and rested it over one shoulder.

"I'm sorry that I can't make this easier for you." Shino tugged on his green jacket. "And I'm sorry that can't be the son you wanted."

"That's not—"

"I know," he interrupted softly. "But you deserved to hear that from me and not from someone else." He finally turned around, and his face... it was Shino. Shibi's flesh and blood. But it's someone so different, so much older.

Shibi was looking at a stranger, and his heart broke.

"I love you, Father," he said. "But I..." His hands tightened about his bag strap. "I have too many things to do."

Shino strode out of the clean living room, slid on his sandals, and ventured into the rain.

Like always, Shibi didn't stop him.

:: ::

He made it a few minutes away from the Aburame Complex when his kikai's gentle buzz morphed into a collective scream as someone stepped out from behind one of the trees he'd passed.

"You used to like hanging around the complex and the forests around it," they said. "Do they bore you now?"

Something rushed through Shino's ears as he turned on his heel, and he didn't know if it was his rushing blood or the roaring rain. "I suppose I just can't find the time for those woods," he replied. "Can you say the same for yourself, Torune?"

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to surrender my soul to a demon.

But how was I to know that it would kill me so soon?

:: ::

The rain soaked her clothes, chilling as it plastered her hair flat against her head and slid off her skin to drip down onto the ground. Atop the Hokage Monument, the village looked so vast but so small. The rain—she'd felt the storm's warning in her bones as they bounded back from Suna and smelled the earthy, musky, fresh whiff in the skies when it was still bright blue.

Now, the skies were gray. The rain was getting heavier. The thunder was a dull growl.

It would never be Ame.

Sakura sighed and pushed herself up to her feet. Water streamed down her face and her neck and darkened the bandages around her left arm. She pooled chakra to the soles of her sandals as she walked, the muddy dirt failing to stick and failing to leave any footprints behind. The winding streets were mostly empty, yet she stuck to the shadows like second nature. She hugged the walls and never kept all her sides exposed, and her eyes were restless as they darted from this way to that and to way over there.

It wasn't long until she slunk all the way to the apartment unit with the dark blue door and a wilting plant in the windowsill.

Izumo was on a short mission to the border. Wouldn't be back until the end of the week.

What was she doing here?

"Did you understand that, girl? You're Akatsuki's homegrown advantage. How does it feel to be used?"

Sakura lifted a shaking hand and rapped her knuckles on the door. The words were loud today. They were loud yesterday. They were loud in the battlefield when he gave them to her with a smile and a bow and a promise that she would never really be free, that she would never—

The door swung open and Kotetsu appeared in some loose long-sleeved shirt with a hole at the bottom and a cartoon character dancing on his chest. He took one long look at her, raised his brow, and stepped aside to let her in.

"Senpai, can I borrow a towel?"

"Sure, but—come on, kid. You're gonna get sick." His voice muffled as he disappeared down the hallway. Sakura quietly shut the front door behind her and stood, sopping wet, on his genkan. "Did you walk all the way here? Were you out long? You gotta take a shower or you're seriously gonna catch something." His voice faded back in as he walked back over with a towel in his arm, which he threw over her head. "I can get you a change of clothes you'll fit in. Probably? Yeah, probably. "

"I'm going to track water into your apartment."

"Kid. I'm not gonna have you stand there and let you get sick."

"Rain doesn't make me sick."

"Take. The shower."

Sakura huffed in amusement and peered down at him from under the fluffy green towel. Her prosthetic was cold and she knew that if she didn't dry and clean it soon, there would be water damage that would take time to fix and repair. "I just came to check in for a bit, then I'll go back out there. It'll waste the whole shower."

Kotetsu pouted, knowing just how stubborn she could be. "Fine. Will you at least come into the kitchen for some hot chocolate?"

"Taking advantage of Kamizuki-san's absence?"

"Well if he stopped hiding my junk food, I wouldn't have to sneak around." An angry frown marred his face, but his eyes twinkled as he beckoned her to follow. "I'll even put extra marshmallows in yours if you don't tattle."

She smiled as she followed him.

"Best find your way back home, pup. The Akatsuki had you once, and they'll never let you go again."

Her smile dropped. She locked her right hand on her left wrist when phantom pains shot through her nerves.

She said nothing as she sat at the kitchen island and watched Kotetsu whisk milk and cocoa powder and sugar on the stove. He wasn't pushing her to say anything, which was nice, but he did glance at her every now and again as the towel hung from her shoulders and water dripped from the ends of her hair.

She didn't know why Sasori was bothering her more dead than alive, but he's a never-ending tone in her ears. When tucked against Kiba and Shino and Akamaru he went faint, but he was always an echo at the back of her mind. A whisper.

A ghost.

"Is it really that strange..." she started, and Kotetsu looked at her, "if I look more like everyone else than my own father who raised me?"

And he stopped what he was doing to stare. One of her fingers twitched against the table as she cast her eyes down and, well, this was the first she'd ever spoken about her family in front of anyone that wasn't pack. Sure she wouldn't give the details, and maybe Chiyo-sama was right she thought her secrets would claim her, but... she didn't know why she was saying this to him. Why she keeps talking.

"I... I haven't seen my father in eight years. I don't want to hold it against him that I've ended up here, but... I think I do. Some part of me, at least." A steaming mug of hot chocolate was pushed in front of her, tiny marshmallows bobbing near the surface, and the ceramic burned into her palm as she wrapped her hands around it. Shut up, shut up, stop talking, what are you doing? "I don't want to be like him, but when I realized I'm really not, it..."

She stopped.

A few seconds of silence, then.

"... It...?" Kotetsu repeated.

"I think I'm afraid," she whispered.

"The moment Leader-sama finds out about you, there won't be anywhere for you to run. Nowhere for you to hide."

No.

'I'm terrified.'

She snatched her hands back and stood in one fluid movement. The towel landed on the stool and she was halfway out of the apartment and towards—an escape—the rain.

The downpour seemed a little heavier, now.

But then Kotetsu was in front of her and held her biceps, his hands as searing as that mug of hot chocolate. He was worried, concerned, as he looked up into her panic-stricken face. "Hey, hey," he murmured. "Kid, it's okay. Breathe. Like that. Okay. Okay, what's going on? You're afraid of something, that's okay. We can work something out. Kid. Sakura. Look at me." She turned wild eyes to his and saw his fear. Fear for her. "What's scaring you?"

Her skin was like ice and her breaths were shallow, and every word she forced up her throat felt like their edges were serrated. "Everyone has a choice," she rasped. "And I'm afraid the next choice I'm going to make is going to be the wrong one."

His grip slackened as his face scrunched in confusion, and she slipped closer to the door. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for wasting your time, I..."

"Kid, you're fine," he said, and he was so honest that it hurt. "You know you're always welcome here when you need something, okay?"

She tried to smile. Really, she did. But all she could manage was a strangled nod as she disappeared out the door and let herself get lost in the rain.

"You should have stayed dead, little girl!"

:: ::

Kotetsu was fucking worried.

What the hell was that? Sakura never lost her cool and he'd hurried to his window to watch her practically throw herself down the stairs and to the end of the street before she vanished in a shunshin, and he'd never seen her look like that before. Nothing had ever spooked her before and bam, suddenly she was afraid that she was going to do something bad?

He didn't want her out there when she was so scared of herself, but he wouldn't have been able to stop her. She was strong and stubborn and most of the time he couldn't even figure out what was going on in that head of hers, and there was no hope for him to work with that. Not with what little he really knew about her.

But man, when she started talking about her father. She never mentioned anything about her past before Konoha and it was probably for good reason, but shit—

The back of his neck prickled.

Kotetsu whipped around, armed with a kunai he'd hidden in the waistband of his pants.

Soaked clothes. Rainwater.

For one entire second, his eyes met wild green ones.

And everything went dark.

(On the counter top, a mug of hot chocolate sat steaming.

Outside, it rained.)

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to go back to who I once was.

But I never once changed for the better.

:: ::

Kiba turned the key in the door of Kurenai's apartment and pushed, letting him and Akamaru inside. His sensei was gone for most of the evening to have dinner and spend some time with her dad, a jounin who oversaw genin and chuunin training and was long retired from field missions.

After Kumo, she'd given each of the team a copy of her key in case they needed a place to stay or they had an emergency. It was a sweet gesture and one step in the right direction for them to slowly meld themselves back into the unit they used to be. They still weren't quite at that level where they were comfortable telling her everything they were doing, especially now that there was a chance she might get too worried again...

Kiba rolled his shoulders as he shut the door behind him.

He wasn't here to think about that. He was here to pick up a selection of scrolls Kurenai had for safekeeping.

"Do you remember if she had anythin' 'bout seals attaching themselves to chakra networks?" he asked. Akamaru padded over to the living room and poked his nose at the bookshelf.

"No, but I do recall there being something about chakra storage mediated by seal concentration. Like the seal on the Hokage's forehead?"

"I could prob'ly apply some of that to the ring. Actually, I think I might be able to—"

The smell hit them almost instantly.

Coppery, fresh, overwhelming.

Akamaru barreled down the hallway first, his partner at his heels, and they trailed the scent to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Kiba rammed it open with his shoulder.

The window was shut, but a trail of red ran from the sill down the wall. Spilled in the tile grout. Stained the porcelain sink. Pooled, thick and viscous.

In the middle was Tenzo's body, pale and bleeding and still.

(Rain tapped against the glass like a symphony.)

:: ::

Iruka startled out of grading his papers at the sound of knocking on the door frame.

It was only then he realized he was in his classroom rather than his office, and it was just about as dark as it could get outside. Time really must have been lost on him today, huh? He raised his head to see Kiba leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets and a toothy grin on his face. His shoulders were a bit wet and his brown hair drooped but there was something...

Iruka rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I've been here a long time and I think it's getting to me." He waved the teen in. "You looked a little—" What? Odd? Off? Not too Kiba-ish? Which didn't make any sense, because Kiba was standing right in front of him and with the same greeting he always gave when he came to the Academy. Gosh, he really was tired if he was seeing things— "soggy?"

Kiba laughed. "Don't worry 'bout it, Iruka-sensei! I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by."

"In the rain?" Iruka questioned, aghast. He settled back into his seat and sorted through his papers with hands smeared in red correcting ink. Only a few more exams to grade, then he'd move onto the book reports. "I bet you everyone's at home enjoying some good soup and waiting for the storm to pass."

"But it never rains in Konoha!" Kiba exclaimed as he crossed the classroom to peer out the window. Iruka looked up at the distinct lack of... something. Someone. "Ya' gotta enjoy it while it lasts, y'know."

"Akamaru's not with you?"

"Nah, he was kinda tired today so he's nappin' at the apartment."

"With Sakura and Shino?"

"Yeah, I just came by to pick up some dinner for us," he said, and Iruka hid his mouth behind his hand as he frowned. That was... weird? Maybe? As far as he knew, Kiba always had Akamaru or Sakura or Shino with him if they ever went to pick up food and, didn't he see all of Team Eight hunting around the wet market stalls earlier this week? He knew from his student's complaints that Sakura could smell a good deal from a kilometer away and never got take-out unless they were too tired to make their meals or if their fridge ran empty.

He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. He was definitely overthinking this. How long had it been since class ended?

Iruka blinked the fuzz from his gaze and saw Kiba staring out the window, pensive.

"Something on your mind?"

"... Yeah, actually. Had a question 'bout a seal I'm stuck with. Thought you could help," the teen spoke. His tone was serious, suddenly, and Iruka unconsciously straightened at the tone. Kiba always tended to focus more when he talked about seals and their theories or new sequences he discovered or ruined, but he was always so excited, not—not like this.

Iruka planted his forearms on the desk and leaned forward. "Don't expect a completely coherent answer," he chuckled. "I'm on quarter brain power right now, but I'm all ears!"

Kiba kept to the window, his face obscured. His hands slowly slipped out from his pockets and crossed over his chest. "I have five lock positions I want to add onto a containment matrix. I've got an even numbered seal, and I know the five locks won't work because they're odd, and I'm close to making something if I change the facet pairings so they can latch together better. But, it leaves me with five shadows I have to deal with. What do you think is better? Adding a sixth shadow for stability, or knocking down the shadow to maintain the frame?"

The teacher hummed and tapped his fingers against his desk. Well, if they were talking containment matrices, then stability was needed more than maintenance although it required more skill and time because it added on to the complexity. Sequence shadows were also a pain to work with as well, especially bending them so they didn't match their lock positions and instead matched the matrix as a whole.

"The sixth shadow, I think. It's definitely harder, but I think you can do it."

The classroom was filled with the stifled pattering of rain.

"... Nah. I don't think that's right."

"I'm sorry?"

Lightning flashed and Iruka caught Kiba's reflection in the cold window. Slitted eyes were trained on him, so utterly blank and frozen and cutting that all the muscles tensed and a slowly encroaching dread crept into his stomach, drip dropping like the rain from the tiles on the roof.

Kiba...

That couldn't be Kiba.

"Knocking down a shadow is better," Kiba said. "Because it gets rid of this useless thing."

Iruka whipped out a kunai to block the three senbon aimed at his face.

But wasn't quick enough to dodge the hail of senbon that lodged into his chest.

:: ::

Maybe I thought I knew what it meant to be alone again.

But I'd always been alone from the start.

:: ::

"Naruto."

He flinched awake at the sound of his name, one hand immediately curling around the kunai under his pillow and the other throwing an elbow out to try and clip the intruder in the side of the head. His elbow met air and a frigid wet hand pinned his weapon to the bed, and one leg was halfway to kicking out when he spied pink and green.

He relaxed and flopped back with a groan. "Sakura-chan, I thought you were tryna kill me!" he whined. "Sorry, I was takin' a nap and I wasn't supposed to sleep for so long..."

He rubbed his eyes and twitched as cold droplets fell onto his face. When he looked—really looked—at Sakura hovering above him, all he could see in the faint light of his room was that she was completely soaked from head to toe and that her skin was deathly pale.

Naruto slowly sat up, anxiety slowly burrowing up his throat. "What's wrong?" he asked. He took her hand and pulled her into a tight hug. The cold seeped through his old orange shirt and the rainwater made it stick to his skin. "You're freezing." Sakura-chan didn't say anything, but he could feel her warm breaths on his neck. One of his hands came up to cradle the back of her head. "What's goin' on? Are you okay?"

It was silent, but he waited, because Sakura-chan was one of those people he would wait for; one of those people he would chase to the ends of the earth for. She treated him like a person when no one else did and he'd found a friend in her the day she moved into the equally shitty apartment next door.

"Hey," she murmured, and he leaned his head against hers to show that he was listening. "Will you do me a favor?"

Naruto's forehead scrunched. He drew back from the hug, his hands still on her shoulders in an unconscious attempt to keep her warm. Between them, her left hand held out a bundle in a crisp plastic baggie; a stack of white envelopes bound together in twine and the top one had Uzumaki Naruto penned in Sakura-chan's handwriting—

"No." He pushed the bag away from him. "No, no way. I'm not taking these—these stupid White Letters!"

"You're the only one I can give them to."

"Whatever you're gonna do I swear you're not gonna die, I swear—"

"Please," she said. She looked into his eyes, her pink hair clinging to her cheekbones like spider webs. "For me."

And Naruto hated that those words were all it took for him to crumble. The threat of tears stung his eyes as his hands dropped from her arms to take the thing that used to haunt the back of his mind the moment Ero-sennin explained what they were. He hated the letters—absolutely fucking hated them—because Sakura-chan was one of the strongest, smartest people he knew.

And if she really thought there would be a mission she wouldn't come back from, then...

"I want you to answer me honestly," he said. "Don't lie to me. Not about this." When he held the envelopes close, he knew he'd be carrying them in the lining of his jacket until he saw Sakura-chan again, safe and home. "Are you in trouble?"

She huffed a short laugh like he'd told her a dumb joke, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not sure. Probably."

Naruto's voice cracked. "Sakura-chan..."

He stopped when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought him into a steady hug. Sakura-chan didn't really hug people, he knew that, and every time they'd hug he'd leapt at her and she reciprocated, awkward but warm nonetheless. She never initiated. Ever.

"I'll... be gone by morning," she told him, and he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. Please don't go. "Keep those safe for me, okay?"

He sniffed. "You know you're my best friend, right?" he murmured. "Like, you're really my best friend, and I love you."

Her hold tightened for a few seconds before she stood, and he stared up at her and her soaked clothes that dripped onto his bed. More than anything he wanted to hold her hand until she promised him that they'd have breakfast outside tomorrow, when it stopped raining and there were puddles to step in and when the gray skies washed away.

"You're probably still tired," Sakura said, nodding her head towards the pillows. "Head back to bed?" She moved, and her hand was almost out of his before he gripped it again. "Hm?"

"Promise me that we'll go to Ichiraku's when you get back."

He heard her quiet chuckle. "I promise," she said. His hand felt empty when hers dropped to her side and she granted him one small smile before she was gone and the envelopes were a lead brick on his lap.

He wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

(Tomorrow morning, it would still rain.)

:: ::

Torune smiled, friendly on all accounts, but Shino knew better than to hope.

He'd been gone for years, swept into Danzo's clutches when he was too young to know better and probably molded to think the councilman held up the goddamn sun. Him and a handful of other clan children had gone in a snap of Danzo's fingers and no one kicked up a fuss. The children's questions went unanswered until they simply forgot to keep asking, and the adults knew to keep their mouths shut and heads turned as Konoha's underbelly grew and grew and grew.

Torune smiled, and he looked like Sai.

"I have my duties," Torune replied, unmoving from his spot standing across his surrogate brother. A black mask still covered most of his face with the lenses of his glasses built into the cloth. He wore a short black jacket with red straps over the shoulders—identical to the one Sai wore on his mission with them. "But I couldn't help but notice the lack of you adhering to yours."

"I know my duty, though I do apologize that we can't all be lap dogs like yourself."

Torune blinked. "When did you get such a mouth?"

"Woof."

"Shino." He nearly laughed as the rain crashed into the dirt around their feet and slowly churned it to mud. His amusement melted off his face, though, when Shino's expression didn't waver. "It doesn't have to be like this, you know."

"I feel no need to listen to someone so obviously brainwashed by a man who deserves to drown in all the blood he's spilled," Shino growled.

Torune narrowed his eyes. "I implore you to choose your next words very carefully—"

"Or what? You'll kill me?" the younger of the two posed dryly. "Do you think that threat is enough to scare me?" He straightened, and impossibly, Torune thought he might actually be taller than him. "After everything, you're the last person I need to hear this from. Why?" His hands balled in the pockets of his jacket. "You may have been my brother once, but you support the man that wants my pack's heads on silver platters."

Support the man that...? Torune shook his head. "Danzo-sama wants what's best for the village."

Shino scoffed and turned, his chest constricting with the loss he'd never gotten over and the sudden disappointment that flooded his veins. "Goodbye, Torune."

One step forward. Another. Half of a third step, then—

"Are you headed back to Sakura's apartment?" the ROOT member questioned. Shino paused as lightning crackled. "Kiba isn't there, last I checked, but perhaps Sakura is on her way back from visiting Hagane Kotetsu."

Shino slowly turned back around. "What have you done?"

"Ah, so this is what it takes to upset you—"

"What have you done?!" Shino snarled. Torune traced the rigid line of the teen's shoulders and how his hands were now free of his pockets, splayed and ready to attack when need be.

(This was the boy who used to tug his shirt and ask if he wanted to go to the forest to collect new insects, the boy Torune could never say no to; Shino had been so small before, chubby-cheeked and solemn-faced as he whispered to his bugs and as all the other kids his age gave him a wide berth.)

"I did what Danzo-sama knows is right," he admitted.

Shino saw red and lunged, kunai in hand, swiping sideways. Torune bent out of the way and spun to deliver a kick right in the center of the teen's stomach, one that was blocked with crossed arms but sent the younger skidding back, leaving tracks in the mud. Torune followed, one hand shooting out to grip his wrist and twisting until the kunai dropped and the other winding back to punch the other across the face.

Shino took the blow in stride, hacked out a wad of blood, and yanked one of those red jacket straps to smash their foreheads together. When Torune stumbled, he snatched back his wrist and retreated a few meters back to widen the distance.

Harsh breaths tumbled out of Shino's mouth as he watched the man regain his bearings.

"You've gotten brutal," Torune noted with an airy chuckle. "I didn't think you were capable."

"... You've been gone for a long time," Shino remarked.

Torune reached into one of his side pouches and pulled out a fist, whatever was in it not visible through the thicket of rain. Water droplets stuck to both their glasses and they stared, Torune in his impassivity and Shino in his rage.

Thunder exploded overhead.

Shino took hold of a single senbon. Held it like a kunai.

Torune drew in air and prayed to a god he didn't believe in.

(Now or never.)

They ran towards one another and Shino slashed—

It happened too quickly. It didn't register. He shouldn't have to register it because something like this shouldn't have happened even in the circumstances even in the middle of an empty path even in the rain and, how, he didn't know how, he can't even fathom how, because Torune didn't dodge.

He leaned in.

—across Torune's throat.

. . .

The world stopped turning. Just for a moment. For a breath.

A soft exhalation.

Blood spurted out from the deep slice in his neck, the carotid arteries cleanly cut and the windpipe whole and choking. Red trickled down to his black shirt, mingled in rain and sweat and spit. Torune swayed briefly before he toppled against Shino, a statue rooted to the ground and his arm still outstretched, his senbon clutched in a white-knuckled grip as his brother's blood seeped beneath his fingernails.

"I... I don't..." Shino whispered. His breathing shallowed and quickened, and his vision started going in and out. "I can heal—I can heal—"

"Do... don... n't..." Torune wheezed. "Sh... 'm... sor... rry..."

"I can heal—"

"... N... o..."

One gloved, shaky fist rose between them. When Torune unclenched it, a bright red sealing tag that made Shino's knees buckle was in his palm. The tag had been specifically made for Torune so that upon his death, the Rinkaichu housed in his skin would perish the moment all his chakra fizzled out of his core and...

And Shino's muscles seized as he watched Torune press the seal against his own chest.

"Wa... nt'd... see... yo... u... h... ppy..." he puffed. "Lov... yo... s'mu... ch..." A small, broken gasp. "Co... dn't... put... lo... ve... over... du... ty..."

Shino's glasses fogged up, scorching tears welling in his eye. "Why?" he croaked. His hand holding the senbon, still outstretched, started to shake. "Why would you..."

Torune fell heavier against him. "S'me... one... ha... d... to..."

The body went limp and slumped off Shino's shoulder, landing in the mud with a soft thump.

And it rained.

He didn't know how long he was frozen there, choking on both his tears and the scent of the blood he spilled. He was sure he blacked out for at least a minute, because one moment he was on his feet and the next he was on his knees in a puddle of mud and water and red and the body next to him didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't speak.

Someone had to.

Someone had to.

Someone had to.

"Shino?"

He raised his head, expressionless, to the sight of Aoba at the end of the path with his hand over his mouth.

"There was a—a report about a disturbance in this area and I went to check it out and..." Aoba took an unconscious step back. "Shino, what have you done?!"

What have you done?!

"I..." Shino's vision went out. In. Out. In. "I—"

"Shino!" On the opposite side of the path, Sakura touched down onto the mud, geared up and packed and panicked. She took in the scene quickly, eyes first on Torune, then Shino, then Aoba as her lips pressed into a grim line and she was at her friend's side in an instant, her gaze never leaving the horror-struck jounin. "Shino," she repeated, quieter, "is he dead?"

Dead.

Shino exhaled harshly, off-kiltered. Why was it so hard to breathe? "Dead," he repeated.

He wanted to throw up.

Sakura wrapped her arms around his shoulders and helped him onto his feet. But he was numb and cold and was only vaguely aware of his surroundings—all there was were his screaming kikai and the pouring rain and the thunder and the flashes of lightning and Sakura said something else he didn't hear and, everything was loud. So loud.

But he heard none of it.

What have you done?!

Aoba turned to leave, more than likely to raise the alarm or get back up and he saw Sakura leaning forward, shouting at him to stop.

Another figure dropped right into Aoba, a hand against a pressure point in his neck as they tussled on the ground for a few moments until the jounin went limp. Unconscious, but alive.

Shino willed himself to re-focus, and the figure side-steps around Aoba's body as they ran towards them.

"Kurenai-sensei?"

"Go!" Kurenai ordered. She urged them down the path—away from the bodies. From the blood. From Torune. "Kiba and Akamaru have already left with Tenzo and we have to run now before the rest of Konoha gets alerted!"

"What happ—"

"They set you up!" Kurenai directed them off the main roads. "They set you all up!"

They ran through empty streets in the pitch darkness of the night, mud on their sandals as they scaled the high walls to avoid the gates and took to the forests outside the village.

They ran, and they didn't stop.

They ran, and Shino could only think of one thing.

When he killed Torune, it rained.

:: ::

My name was Aburame Torune.

And I know the world would never remember my name.

:: ::

And we end with some fanart by nezukerea on tumblr!

lunafox2234 on tumblr!

And fractiousghost on instagram!

And fantastic cosplay by a.lunatic.i.guess on instagram!