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dontgrowupokay · 8 years ago

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Niisan and neechan, part 2 - Naruto imagine, Jinchuuriki!Reader

*gif’s not mine

Hello! So, I’ve finally written part two, and this time you meet a very nice character. I realized I forgot Naruto’s speech tick (dattebayo) and remembered to use it this time. I did my best to keep everyone in character, but if you have any suggestions and/or tips, please, message me or comment them! =)

If you haven’t read part one, click here.

*requests are opened for Naruto, ATLA, Disney, Sherlock and PJO* +fandoms will be added soon! ;)

You sighed as you sat on the dusty swing under the old tree. You didn’t like the place very much, it always made you feel distant from the world around you and the shadows never failed to sadden you, even if slightly.

However, you had washed your pants the day before and didn’t want to dirty them by sitting on the ground. Your schoolbook was opened in your lap, but your gaze kept drifting to the empty yard in front of you and, moreover, to the closed Academy doors.

Kunoichi classes had been canceled. Apparently, Amaya-sensei, the jounin in charge of your age group, was out on a mission and there was no one to substitute her, leaving you and the other girls free to go home two hours earlier than usual. That change of routine had its ups and downs.

The good side was that you sort of disliked the whole flower arranging, acting, and etiquette thing you were forced to learn. You weren’t very good at those and being able to go on a day without having to remember the mannerisms and dressing code of every village was a relief.

On the other hand, that meant you were out two hours before Naruto, and you didn’t know what to do next. On a normal day, you two would go somewhere to eat something (most likely Ichiraku’s) and then head home, maybe go train a bit sometime later.

Alone, though, you didn’t feel like going to your apartment and wasn’t hungry yet. Having nothing better to do, you decided to wait for the Uzumaki outside the school, pacing around as you urged for the clock to hurry and make the bell ring already.

One hour and a half later, you were desperately bored and tried to entertain yourself with some studying. Weapons (or Bukijutsu) really wasn’t your best subject, but still, you attempted to throw all the information inside your head.

“Kakute are rings with a few horns on its surface. They are usually used by shinobi in undercover/assassination missions, especially by kunoichi, and can cause enough distraction for a quick escape. If painted poison on the horns’ edges, the attack may be deadly and the mission successful.”

There were some pictures of said weapon, and you realized how effective that technique could be in the right situations. Silent kill, that’s how your teachers would call it. Well, that wasn’t hard to remember. Ring with spikes,

On the bottom of the page, though, the exercises began. You had just read the first one and were already confused.

1. What’s the name and physical characteristics of a tonso-jutsu (flight jutsu) weapon that is usually hidden on the ground?

Had you really learned that? You frowned as you brought the book closer to your eyes as if it could help you think better, muttering the question over and over again as you scanned whatever knowledge resided in your brain.

“A weapon that is buried in the ground... I think I remember it, it had sharp edges...” You told yourself, scrambling your mind “Yeah, so then enemies would step on it because of the sandals...” Your face started to lighten up “But... what’s the name of it? Naku? Maku? Maku-something? Ugh...” You whined, staring at the empty space awaiting your answer.

“Would it be makibishi?” A deep male voice asked, and you looked up startled, almost falling off the swing, the book hitting the ground with a soft thud. You held onto the ropes tightly as you sat correctly again, staring at the person in front of you, who was kneeling down to get the textbook.

“Here.” He said, handing you the object, and that’s when you realized he was just a boy. Not an adult man or anything. A teenager boy, with long black hair in a loose ponytail and a bad case of lack of sleep.

He wore a dark-colored outfit and even without seeing the back of his clothes, you knew he was an Uchiha. The physical appearance was enough proof. After all, there was a boy just like him in your class.

“T-thank you” You said awkwardly, not used to people talking to you in such a... polite way.

“Don’t mention it.” He answered, and beneath his formal behavior and controlled mannerism, you could feel a hint of sincere kindness. It was unexpected to you, and you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, taken aback by the sudden realization.

His gaze studied you, calculating, as he seemed to remember something. You weren’t entirely sure how to react to that strange boy. He was just too controlled and thoughtful of every little movement. A frown shadowed his expression, making the young man look way older, and for a single second you could almost read his eyes, a tingle of pain twisting inside them, so carefully hidden.

You felt the urge to ask his name, question him what was he doing there and why on earth talking to you. It wasn’t something most people did. Starting conversations with either you or Naruto was often badly seen by the rest of the villagers, and you had gotten used to that.

Still, the Uchiha spoke to you, not with harsh words and shouts. And that was intriguing, for the only people who acted that way towards you were Teuchi, the Third and your blond best friend. Yet, you couldn’t formulate the phrase to ask him any of that, too confused and full of conflicting thoughts to concentrate on that. Sp, you kept silent, caressing the hard fabric of your t-shirt.

“The answer is makibishi.” He said after a while “They’re cubes with sharp arms that shinobi hide before their missions in case they need a quick escape route.”

You blinked, turning to him surprised, looking at the blank answer lines on your homework as you took in the information.

“Oh, um... Thank you again...” You replied, looking down. You really weren’t used to that. He simply nodded, focusing on the sunny sky above. Slowly, you started reading the book again, this time writing the correct name and characteristics, thanks to the pre-teen stranger.

Seconds passed.

“Lend me your notebook and a pen, please.” He asked suddenly. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, stopping to write for a moment as his question repeated itself in your mind. Slowly, you handed him what he requested, hesitant, not knowing what to say or if you should have refused it. The shinobi, however, didn’t make you feel threatened in any way, so you decided to go along with it.

He thanked you quietly, using the tree as a support as he started writing something on a random paper sheet, the distance not letting you find out what, exactly. True, your curiosity was rising at each heartbeat, but you forced yourself to stay on the swing, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. He could just rip off the page and go away, after all. Maybe that wasn’t for you.

An extremely long minute passed before he finally brought down the pen, carefully giving you your supplies. You quickly glanced at his writing, looking back at him immediately to ask what was that all about. He certainly used a lot of kanji you still hadn’t learned.

Once you opened your mouth, though, the bell rang, and in seconds dozens of kids ran out of the Academy. You put your things in your bag, still staring at the young Uchiha who now searched the sea of children in the front yard.

As the initial celebration of the end of class subsided, you heard a loud, high-pitched voice yell:

“Nii-san!”

Directing your head towards its source, you spotted the black haired student you had known only by name, Sasuke, approaching. In an instant, he had thrown himself onto the older Uchiha.

“Nii-san?” You raised an eyebrow, grinning at the kind teen.

He smiled slightly in return, and suddenly a voice you knew all too well rang through your years:

“Nee-chan!!” You heard Naruto announce as he dashed towards you, stopping right in front of the swing as he painted for some seconds. “We learned to throw shuriken today, ‘ttebayo!” He beamed, spinning said weapon around his fingers.

“REALLY?” You jumped towards him, smiling excitedly “Can you teach me later?” You pleaded, glancing the shuriken expectantly.

“Of course!” He answered, just then noticing the Uchihas “Hey, were you talking to them?” He asked curiously.

You hesitated.

“Yeah, kind of...” You said uncertain, looking at the older boy, whom name you still didn’t know. Finally gathering enough courage, you start to ask the so awaited question.

“Oh, um, I don’t think I got y-”

“Sorry, Sasuke and I need to head home, our father wants us there immediately.” The teen cut you off, turning around, holding hands with his little brother. You closed your mouth displeased.

Sighing, you managed to yell a last thank you, before Naruto grabbed yours and his bags, starting to walk towards the apartment. You quickly followed, distracted as the events kept you deep in thought.

“Did you wait too long? You should’ve gone somewhere else, not wait for me all that time, dattebayo...” He told you, but you barely paid attention. You couldn’t control your anxiety any further, so you stopped on your tracks and reopened the paper sheet. A few moments passed before you made sense of the first pair of lines.

Henge-no-jutsu

For when you need to go somewhere and not be recognized.

You remembered something similar when ninjas suddenly changed their appearance to completely different people. You instantly thought of the whole fiasco at the library some days before, smiling at the neat handwriting. That would definitely come in handy.

“Actually, it was a good idea to wait for you...” You told the Uzumaki, who looked at you worried because of your weird behavior “...otouto.”

You started to ran before the word sank in, laughing, and soon a yell could be heard from behind you.

“YOU CALLED ME OTOUTO! You’re officially my big sis, come back here, ttebayo!”

You kept laughing and running, joy spreading through your body.

In the end, that had turned out to be a great day!

I’m also tagging everyone who liked part one: @my-otaku-life101, @instantlightnerd, @12-percent-of-the-science-bros , @mercy1997 , @flyforeverfree , @animetube

@Thank you all for reading this! Any feedback will be largely appreciated!

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luna-orlha · 7 years ago

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Title: Bones beneath her feet Chapter: 14 - Dust and Shadows: Part 3 Fandom: Naruto Genre: Action ; Adventure Ship: - Word count: 3,852 Triggers(s):– Rating: T Additional Tags: Rebirth, SI/OC Summary: She had died only to be reborn into this world as Kakashi’s younger sister. The world where peace was a mockery and the hopes and dreams of their children living their lives out was a big sham. Perhaps this was her penitence and retribution.

Ao3 | FFn

It tugs at Kakashi like he missed something. He taps a half-gloved finger on the table, staring at the documents that Genma and Tenzo had brought him. The whole bullshit with Danzo was already well-documented by T&I, the whole Root cell had been dismantled, those that had been loyal to Danzo had been permanently sealed or executed and those that weren’t had been merged back into the system. It all tied a neat and tiny bow.

Kakashi shuffles the paper again, his grey eye running down the neatly typed words.

“What are you thinking?” Tenzo asks.

Kakashi eyes him then flicks his eye back at the paper. “Date, twenty-seven December, YH62. 8,030 bodies were found and cremated by the Hunter-Nin unit. 3,500 Root shinobis were taken into custody and have been inducted into the Young Accelerated Course (YAC), 620 had to be put down… 3500. 3500.” He hands the paper to Tenzo and retrieves another sheet with the list of names. “I don’t know, but I feel like I’m missing something.”

Tenzo hums, running an eye over the paper.

Was it too neat? Too convenient? But these are the official records, records that were given by the Head of Torture and Interrogation himself. Kakashi turns and looks at Mr Ukki flutter his tiny leaves. His hitai-te weighed heavily on his forehead. To distrust even T&I… to distrust Yamanaka Inoichi, would it be going too far? He sits forward, bracing his elbows on the table. Who did he trust more? Tenzo or Inoichi? Kakashi gave Tenzo a side-glance, mentally shaking a negative. Maybe it isn’t about Tenzo or Inoichi, him or T&I, maybe it is about who wrote the report. He looks down at the report and gives a snort of derision. That precisely is the problem, isn’t it?

“Tenzo. What do you think Root’s reaction would have been in this scenario?”

Tenzo rubs the back of his neck, tilting his head upwards. He doesn’t reply Kakashi immediately but that the kind of person Tenzo had always been - careful and cautious. He never said things half-heartedly and in spite of all the difficult things Kakashi made him do in the name of training, he never did anything less than his full effort. “That is difficult to say,” Tenzo says finally. “There are varying degrees of loyalty and various shades of each degree. No Root is exactly alike, yet No Root is dissimilar. Where they draw the line, where their seals draw their lines, they are all different and also the same.” Pursing his lips, Tenzo cocks his head at Kakashi. “What are you thinking, senpai?”

Kakashi shuffles the papers into a stack, giving Tenzo a beatific eye crinkle. “I’m... thinking of chaos.”

“Oh kage…” Tenzo’s shoulders slumped at his reply. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“No more than building kennels for my ninken.”

Tenzo groans loudly and cradles his head. “I will regret this.”

“You can always refuse.”

“I can?” Tenzo sits up. His large black eyes staring at Kakashi expectantly.

“Yes… but Naruto does-”

“No, no! I’ll do it!” He motions frantically at Kakashi. “Anything but Naruto’s pranks! I couldn’t get the glitter off for weeks. I even found glitter on my anbu outfit.”

“I know, I’m sure Raido remembers too,” Kakashi says smugly. He slides the papers into the brown envelope and hands it Tenzo. “Good, return these... And get caught.”

-/-/-/-

Kakashi is a shadow, a whisper in the wind. He is the greatest shinobi that one could have on the team, and the greatest misfortune one could ever meet on the battlefield because he never fails a mission, never lets a teammate die and never fails to cut down whatever that stands in his way. He hasn’t let a precious person go, not since Obito and Rin, and he won’t be starting one soon.

The Anbu guards don’t even register him as he walks across the ceiling. As an Anbu Captain and one of the leads in top-secret guard duty, Kakashi wants to reprimand them - that is his excuse for sneaking around after all; but as the person who is trying to sneak into the level ten records, this is good.

The door is double sealed against intruders, one that registers the chakra residual of anyone opening it and one that only lets permitted visitors in. Kakashi happens to be on the latter, however having his chakra imprint registered isn’t something he actually wants. Flipping his headband up quickly, he drops down softly in front of the two guards and smiles.

“Hello Cow and Sheep, it’s so good to see you,” he says and with a weak sharingan genjutsu, he ensnares them in a looped time filled with false memories of the long and boring guard duty where literally no one had come by. He’s done far too many such duties to not require the use of a completely false memory.

Kakashi tricks Cow into opening the first seal, sending a false imagery of him hearing something in the archives. Cow turns, tilting an ear to the doors.

“Do you hear that?” he asks Sheep.

Cow approaches the door and Kakashi weaves a more intricate auditory illusion, suppressing Cow’s impulse to flare his chakra. Cow doesn’t flare his chakra or even check for genjutsu. What he does is something that makes Kakashi wonder how Cow even passed his Anbu test or the compulsory Anbu training, then again, this is Kakashi infiltrating. Kakashi isn’t Konoha’s best assassin for nothing.

Cow presses his palm on the door, the seals lighting up then spiralling open.

“Nothing there…” Kakashi hears Cow say and doesn’t catch the rest because Kakashi has slipped in, making his way to the academy records.

Too easy.

He hasn’t been here since Minato-sensei died, not since he stopped being the gofer for the Hokage. The memory of Minato calling him out of the Anbu guard duty to make him run into the archives settles heavily in Kakashi’s stomach. Minato-sensei hadn’t wanted him in Anbu, neither had Fuuko. He had been a brat then. Kakashi remembers Minato’s heartbroken voice when Kakashi insisted on joining Anbu.

“Are you saying that I don’t care for your happiness?”

He shakes himself from the memory. He has a job to do. Thirty-five Root taken into custody. Thirty-five. The number replays on a loop as he navigates the dark aisles with a chakra light on his left hand. The rows of shelves rise into the darkness with thick sides and shelves instead of ladders like the civilian archives have. After all, no non-shinobi would enter the top-secret archives of Konoha.

Kakashi pads down rows, peering at the labels. The labels are still the same, just more variations for each category, 讲 - to speak, 诱 - to persuade, 谑 to jeer1.

All very deceptively orderly. Instead of being neatly labelled, the way the records are archived is encrypted. Root records would be under… Kakashi runs the encryption through his head, counting the strokes as he passes the signs. Debate, Slander… The complexity of the kanji increasing as he walks down the rows. Had this been any other level apart from the top-secret archives, Kakashi would have looked for the exact kanji as he remembered it to be. Nonetheless, unlike the other levels, level ten was far more intricate with triple layers of encryption.

He weaves through the shadowy library, passes rows and rows of scrolls and boxes.

The thing about Kakashi is that contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t have undying loyalty to Konoha. Undying loyalty? He scoffs. Look where undying loyalty got his father, ashes drifting in the wind.

Kakashi stalks past several rows more and finally stops at a row. 怼 - Resentment. There’s an irony that the Root intake into regular shinobi forces is filed under that character, perhaps not so much an irony. There are twenty-six boxes with the encrypted tags on it. Twenty-six large boxes for thirty-five shinobis and that’s not normal at all.

At his present age of twenty-two, Kakashi might really hate paperwork, but the hours of spending down here filing Minato-sensei’s reports had been drilled into him. An average active Anbu squad’s annual reports amounts to three sealed scrolls, not even enough to merit a box. A large box’s average capacity was fifty scrolls. It is a regular practice to add dud scrolls next to the real scrolls, but surely not that many.

He peers into a box and swallows a large sigh. Could he seal all of them away?

Even with the sharingan...

His eye twitches at the idea of sitting here for hours going through each. Part of him wanted to ‘nope’ the hell out.

‘Fuuko owes him so much,’ he bitterly thinks then spawns several clones, all sighing as they form teams of four for each box.

-/-/-/-

Shuffling through the scrolls at record speed, Kakashi uses his sharingan to copy and analyse the words he read. They are mostly boring reports mixed with the exasperation of the Root’s transition handler with the lack of basic social etiquette.

His eye lingers on a line. Twenty-three squads with former Root members.

Twenty-three.

He hasn’t exactly been a jounin sensei yet, but he’s heard of Raido talk about it. Twenty squads slated for the jounin track isn’t a something common. Chuunin track, yes, jounin track, no. A former Root member on jounin track? That sounded shady as hell. It is true that jounins are generally more powerful, they had to be. Jounins were leaders, they didn’t just bring firepower to the fight. They had to bring brain muscles.

No, wait. Kakashi backtracked on his thought process. It had only been twenty days since Danzo died, ten days since the former Root members were added into the academy. Wasn’t it far too early to even talk about graduation? The idea was to instil loyalty and work against any of the brainwashing Danzo had done to them.

He remembers Tenzo, Tenzo just after leaving Root. It had taken Tenzo four years to work through all the brainwashing. There is no way any of these Root members - former Root members, Kakashi corrects himself, would be able to get there in less than half of that.

Kakashi pops his clones, reabsorbing all the chakra. Even though he was prepared for it, the sudden influx of memories still hit him like a punch from Tsunade. Kakashi rubs his head then sits up. All the reports were signed off by Homura.

Mitokado Homura, Elder on the Council, head of Education. A rank, notable kills - Terumi Saiyako and Saizo Takamura, one of the Seven Swordsmen of Mist.

He taps his knee.

Mitokado Homura.

Kakashi repacks all the scrolls, restacking the boxes and shunshins down the rows to where he knows the academy reports are. He recognises the scrawls on the reports, Hayate’s handwriting is bad as ever.

Tested 3962 applicants. 2150 passed preliminary Chuunin track tests. 236 squads passed Jounin’s test.

He scrolls down the list of names, almost glazing over the intake list when he stops and stares. Kakashi knows realistically that half of the academy students ever make it in out of the academy. The plausible reason for dropping out is long and comprehensive, except this? This is less than half.

There is something wrong with the records and Kakashi knows it in the bottom of his gut, churning. He might have come here for something to help Sayami create a leverage for his sister’s freedom, but this - if he lets this go, he knows will regret it.

Kakashi looks up, judging the amount of time passed since he entered by the smell of fresh air. Two hours. Whatever commotion Tenzo might have done to take the heat off here would be almost over by now. He unfurls a blank seal scroll and piles the academy folders onto it. No time to check which to take and which not to, he simply takes as many as the seal can take, seal it and slips out.

-/-/-/-

It takes Shisui two more days before he finally makes it out of the hospital from his own sheer will. He knows the doctors and nurses have insisted another week. Any longer and he’ll go mad, Shisui thinks. Genma doesn’t tell him much about what happened, he doesn’t need to. The things that Genma are tight-lipped to, is telling.

Genma falls beside him as Shisui hobbles back to the compound. “You should be in the hospital,” Gemma says.

Shisui only grunts, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, left foot. Trying not to think of how his response was a perfect imitation of a typical Uchiha. Sasuke is alive, he reminds himself.

Sasuke is alive.

He doesn’t need to think of the countless of dead bodies that the anbu had to pick through, or how there were so many that Sayami ran out chakra to burn them in the bright blue flame that all traditional Uchiha funerals require. So many that Sayami fell into a state of deep chakra exhaustion. The roar of emotions wraps its steely fingers around his throat, the colours of his vision sharpening as he forces himself to school his breath.

Sasuke is alive.

If there’s anything that went right, it’s that his little adopted brother is alive. The thought doesn’t assuage the guilt in him as much as he hoped it would. Father is dead, Mother is dead. Shisui feels Genma’s hand grip his arm. “Your sharingan,” he hisses.

Oh. So that was why the world seemed particularly clear. He hasn’t made this mistake since seven. Shisui reaches up to clutch his eye, only to fumble on his bandages. Right, he lost his right eye. He takes a shuddering breath, dragging the chakra from his left eye. The red iris spins and spins then fades into its usual black. The world is muted again, back into the dull lines and dark shades of colours. Except his heart continues beating painfully and Shisui knows it won’t stop.

“You’re okay,” Genma tells him. There’s a hand on his shoulder that is not so much of pressing down on him but holding him up. Shisui wonders if he would even be able to walk to six kilometres back to the compound with the way his legs are trembling.

He has to get back to the compound, get back to Sasuke. He promised Itachi he would watch over Sasuke.

The sun is high in the sky by the time Shisui finally makes to the clan compound gates. He can feel the sweat drip down his face. His ribs and leg ache from his exertion.

Shisui can hear the senbon click against Genma’s teeth as he waits for Shisui to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t say anything,” Genma replies in a cool voice.

“I could hear you thinking it.”

The senbon clicks against his teeth again, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Actually… I was thinking that we made it just in time for lunch.”

“Hn-” Choosing not to answer, Shisui pushes open the gates. The gates were closed, the gates are never closed. The guards that usually sit on the side are missing, leaving just empty cushion seats. He stares at the streets. The Uchiha streets always had people about, especially at noon.

Sasuke is alive.

The more he thinks about it, the less it seems likely. Genma said that some had survived. Some. He wonders if it’s all technicalities. Two could be some and the two could include him and Sasuke. He tries to shake the burning feeling in his chest. Genma wouldn’t lie about such things, he tells himself.

The window of the bakery is shattered, large shards hang perilously from a swinging tip. Uchiha Ikasaki used to bake the best buns in the compound. The door to the smithery had been burnt to ashes, along with the store opposite it. Uchiha Takara had retired after the third war and went into making flying weapons, they were very good so he had bought Genma several sets from that shop.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet, desolate streets. Just yesterday, he was running on the rooftops to avoid the traffic. Just yesterday, or so it to him in spite of Genma telling him that it had been one month. He averts his gaze from the blood stains that still paint the walls. Blood and gore are big parts of his life, just not blood and gore from the people he knew from childhood.

“Shisui-kun! Here, bring some dango for Itachi-kun! Koichi-chan made a new flavour, I think Itachi-kun will love it.”

He tells himself that his legs are trembling from the exertion and not the grief in his heart even though he knows that it’s not true. There are potholes on the once-carefully paved street, holes that Shisui can identify at a glance, holes that rimmed with a colour are darker than the sandy earth it is paved with. He closes his one remaining eye, his fists clenching so tightly that he can feel the sticky blood between his nails.

“Have you eaten, Shisui-san? Here, oyakodon on the house!”

Genma’s hand clenches his shoulder, the grip reminding Shisui that he isn’t alone in this. “Genma?” his voice rasps in the heavy silence. He turns to catch Genma’s steady gaze. “Where is Fuuko?”

“Ah…” Genma’s voice sounded uncharacteristically tight. Like he had to strain to answer him, as though Shisui had struck a raw nerve.

Shisui stops in mid-step, standing completely still. The colour on his face bleeding out as he takes in Genma’s reaction. “Is she… dead?” Kage, please let her not be dead.

“What? No!”

“But you haven’t mentioned her at all… and she hasn’t come around either.” He knows that Fuuko would stop by at least once, no matter how busy she is.

“She’s not dead,” Genma insists.

“You haven’t answered the question. Where is Fuuko?”

“I am answering the question, Fuuko is not dead.”

“Yet,” Shisui tacks on flatly.

“...Yet,” Genma agrees with a sigh.

-/-/-/-

Kakashi stares at the door, wondering if he should knock. Could he trust Shikaku? He had to, there is no one else, he reasons with himself, raising his gloved hand.

“Kakashi?” Shikaku quirks an eyebrow and yawns. “What are you doing here at five in the morning?”

The scroll feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket. He is not wrong, there is something going in the academy, Kakashi tells himself. “Nara-san, I think you might want to see this.” He holds up the scroll and allows Shikaku to usher him to his home office.

Shikaku doesn’t say anything as he peruses through the books and Kakashi doesn’t offer anything. Outside, across the Nara forest, Kakashi could see the twilight breaking. He had experienced far longer nights but the weight of the missing children pressed down heavily on his shoulders.

“These scrolls…” Shikaku presses his nose tiredly, his hand clasped together as he searches for the words that even Kakashi has difficulty thinking. Kakashi wants to rage, wants to deny the possibility of the scrolls being falsified.

“I took them from the level ten archives,” Kakashi says simply. His eye still watching the streaks of orange cut across the dark blue sky. Under normal circumstances, Kakashi might have tried to hide the fact that he had broken one of the highest level rules and if Shikaku wanted, Kakashi could have been executed as a traitor without any trial.

The Hatakes don’t mean anything to Konoha anyway, he finds himself thinking that.

Shikaku heaves a sigh. “Here I was, mildly hoping that you were here to see Naruto.”

His head whips around to take in Shikaku’s words. “Naruto? What is he doing here?”

“Akito- Kusari Akito attempted to kidnap Naruto and came really close to it, had Naruto bumped into Shikamaru and me.”

“Kusari Akito?” That sounded familiar. Though Kakashi isn’t certain that he has heard that name before. How had this Akito come close to get away with kidnapping Naruto? Tenzo had promised to watch over Naruto, unless Tenzo-

“You’d know him better as Badger, Anbu captain of your sister’s squad.”

“What about traitors in your team?”

Her shoulders hunched, her words prodding deeper into the clusterfuck that Kakashi refused to let his sister in, “do we even have a clan called Kusari?”

Fuuko knew. She had guessed it right there and then and had been right. Kusari Akito was… “...Root.” Had she known he was Root before the base? Part of him rejected the idea, part of him reasoned that it might have been the cause for Fuuko avoiding him after that.

Shikaku nods. “Peculiarly, he had all marks of a main branch Nara. Which would imply that either my sister had a child outside her marriage or that my younger brother had an affair and a child conceived from it. Except to make the timeline even plausible would imply that either of my siblings would have had Akito when they were six or nine, or my mother had a son that she didn’t know about.”

He taps the scrolls. “But if there are children going missing and with a reasonable stretch of the mind, it’s possible that a main branch Nara might have been… procured at an earlier time. Which begs the question as to why all Root found were non-bloodline. That said. I did some… rooting about.” Shikaku pulls open a drawer and unseals a seal hidden on the side of the drawer. The papers sprawl out of the folder as Shikaku throws it across the desk. The numbers don’t really make sense to Kakashi until he sees the conclusion neatly written in at the bottom.

% Probability: 62.9382001

“Apparently, my mother had a stillborn during the war and the genetic tests have proven that Akito is my younger brother, Nara Shikato.”

“Maybe, perhaps. He calls himself Kusari Akito but he looks like a Nara.”

“But if he’s Root...” Kakashi trails off, suddenly remembering of the question he had asked Tenzo a night ago. “What do you think Root’s reaction would have been in this scenario?” He looks up from the papers, the words are sharp and acrid in his mouth. “They would go to the next in command.”

“If losing over ten thousand of their force is an acceptable loss, I’d hate to see what isn’t.”

The idea of another in command threw Kakashi for a loop. He was forced into Root and while he hadn’t been willing, the seal did not allow for opinions or deviances. If there was a second-in-command, should he not have seen it? Should he not have at least interacted with the second-in-command at least a few times?

Shikaku continues, not noticing the turmoil churning in Kakashi. “However this discrepancy of missing children does explain why they were willing to lose over ten thousand soldiers.”

The cold closes on Kakashi like a vice. The realisation of the most probable explanation slamming through him. “Nara-san… what if Danzo was a puppet too?”

Notes:

I’m world building here. I have the idea that the group we saw in Narutoverse was actually a very small glimpse of it. My headcanon goes that Konoha has a population of roughly 300k because has anyone properly looked at the city shots of Konoha? That’s a lot of buildings. And frankly, the economy wouldn’t work. I like writing (relatively) realistic worlds, so hey.. we’re gonna do some dumping.

#fanfiction #naruto #bones beneath her feet #hatake kakashi #SI-oc

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