From the height, the nearby streets were perfectly visible: people strolled unhurriedly, a merchant bustled under the awning at her stall. Ears tickled with the steady hum of voices and the rustle of trees, while the warmth of the summer sun seeped through the dark sleeves of his uniform.
Hatake Kakashi, hands in pockets, leaned his butt against the park railing on the roof of one of the low buildings and gazed with a bored look at Shisui, who bowed low, straightened, and met his eyes.
"Kakashi-san, I have a request. And forgive me, I don't know if I can ask such a favor of you."
He scratched his head embarrassedly.
"Mm?"
"Could you train not only Sasuke... but also Sarada?"
Kakashi narrowed his one visible eye.
"I... I understand that I might be asking too much..."
"Gaara is a serious opponent; I saw him in the preliminaries. So I want to pass my technique on to Sasuke."
"Chidori?"
"Right. Sasuke is my student, from my team. That's why I'm watching over him. But that girl is no one to me," Kakashi said coldly. "Passing on a deadly A-rank technique I developed myself to some unknown... You don't understand what you're asking."
Shisui knew it would be like this. He would have answered the same in the captain of Team Seven's place, so he hadn't sent Sarada to him but came to ask personally on her behalf.
The girl was seeking power. After that clash with Desert Gaara, Shisui was sure she wouldn't use Kanren again, but in exchange, she needed something for Mangekyo. Sending Sarada to train with Sasuke was the best solution.
Kakashi squinted, noticing his firm gaze.
"Still standing your ground?" he asked with a hint of threat in his voice. "Name at least two reasons why I should train her."
Shisui was ready for this.
"Fine. Reason one—she fought Desert Gaara. Experience, after all; maybe she can suggest something."
"I saw how he fights with my own eyes. I don't think the girl will help much."
Shisui smiled politely.
"Forgive me, Kakashi-san, but your Sharingan isn't native. A pure-blood wielder handles it better."
"Fine," Kakashi replied irritably—the conversation wasn't to his liking and was starting to annoy him. "Second reason?"
"Competition."
"Didn't get it."
"I noticed how much Sasuke's level grew after the Land of Waves mission. Joint training with Naruto squeezed more out of him than I could. I think it'll be the same here."
"Sure, Shisui-kun?" Kakashi said skeptically and continued a bit arrogantly: "Chidori is a technique not everyone can master. It's nature transformation. Sasuke has lightning affinity; I already checked. If the girl's predisposition is different—nothing doing. And purely technically... I saw her profile. Genin, handful of D-rank missions. You expect a lot from her."
Shisui smiled slyly.
"Kakashi-san, Itachi trained her."
Kakashi noticeably tensed at the mention of his former subordinate's name.
"And you know, despite her short service record and losing to Sasuke in taijutsu, in everything else—she's far ahead. Sarada has already mastered nature transformation, and it's lightning affinity. Plus, the girl has excellent chakra control, and she's a genjutsu genius."
"Genius?"
"Exactly. Believe me, Kakashi-san. I'm the strongest genjutsu user in the Leaf, and Sarada... hm. Somewhere between me and Yūhi Kurenai. The girl has room to grow; she hasn't revealed her full potential yet, and Kurenai-san is much more experienced, but against Sharingan power, experience is nothing."
"If Itachi trained her," Kakashi replied grimly, "I'm willing to believe it. Fine, reasons accepted. Not that I'm burning to take this on, but you convinced me."
Shisui smiled and bowed low.
"I'm in your debt, Kakashi-san! Thank you."
Sarada stood in the bathroom examining herself in the large mirror. Bruises ringed her neck, the same as on her right arm. The thought that the Sixth might have been late made her heart clench unpleasantly. She didn't want to die again.
People fear the unknown, not death itself. No one knows what's beyond the line because no one returns from there. But I returned and know: there's nothing there. Still afraid, because if I die—a wave will come, and what future I'll end up in is unknown. Unknown again...
What if she ends up in a world without her friends, without her mother, surrounded only by strangers? A world where she's needed by no one. Where even the Seventh won't put a hand on her shoulder and offer to become his adopted daughter. And most likely, that's the world waiting for her in the future.
If so, I don't want the wave, don't want to die and start a new life in such a future. Better stay in the past forever. Here at least I have family, friends... Even if Mom and Dad see me just as a girl, and a stranger boy is like an older brother or father to me, still. They're alive, and they're close. Better that way.
Her eyes in the reflection were large, black, and for some reason frightened. Sarada turned her head slightly to the side and continued scrutinizing herself critically. Regular features, thin brows, delicate fair skin. That stupid hairstyle she couldn't part with for some reason. Why? Because it's convenient, practical.
Sarada studied herself, and in the artificial lamplight at a certain angle, she seemed beautiful. Young, fresh, alluring. A mysterious gleam sparkled in her black eyes. But a slight turn of the head, and it all vanished. From the mirror looked back an unremarkable mouse with a silly hairstyle and utterly ordinary face. Not ugly, but far from a beauty. All thin and fragile, as if not a kunoichi at all. And that bruise on her neck and all over her arm...
How pathetic I look.
For a moment, Sarada imagined how the local Naruto saw her, and her pale face flushed.
She couldn't think about Uzumaki Naruto. Not at all. For Boruto and his sister, she should seal budding feelings and give the future Seventh to Hinata, as it should be. She would love him, become a tender and caring mother to the children, a wonderful homemaker. That's Hinata's place.
And what will I become? I... Don't even dare think I could take that place. Because if I dare—I won't be able to make myself give it up.
Sarada looked sadly into her reflection's eyes.
There was insistent knocking on the bathroom door. Sarada startled and hurriedly pulled on her dress.
"Hey! Sarada!" came her father's muffled voice from behind the door.
"What do you want?"
Sasuke had scared her, and her movements became jerky, nervous. She zipped up and went into the living room.
"How long do I have to wait?" Both his gaze and voice were laced with irritation.
"Wait? For what? You're going to your training with Roku... with..."
Sasuke clicked his tongue.
"Shisui said you're coming with me."
"Why?"
Dad clicked his tongue again and sighed heavily. Leaving Sarada without an answer, he headed to the entryway and started putting on his shoes.
Me and Sasuke? With the Sixth? Shisui...
Sarada rushed to gather her things.
Kakashi arrived at the meeting spot early. That wasn't like him—he habitually showed up late to any meeting, but today his plans gradually flowed into one another and converged at one point: the rocky barren terrain. Tying his left arm behind his back, he climbed the cliff. Sweat soaked his clothes. The sun rose higher over the ground, shifted, and the first rays lit the sheer slope where he struggled.
A bit more, and it'll be unbearably hot.
It was already hot. Muscles ached, fingers of his right hand went numb from strain, wet palm slipped on rocky holds.
Damn, I've gotten soft. Still climbing too slowly. Won't make it.
Kakashi caught his breath and climbed on. Three meters to the top when footsteps sounded nearby.
Time to finish.
He closed his eyes, relaxed, let go of thoughts and tension. His chakra system rebooted, second wind opened. A few pulls, and his chin touched the cliff edge.
Sasuke looked down at him and tossed casually:
"Yo."
"Hm, Sasuke?" Kakashi muttered and tilted his head sideways.
A little farther stood the girl he'd seen at Shisui's house.
Kakashi had listened to the young jonin's request, but in truth, Shisui unwittingly gave him not two reasons, but three. Girl-enigma. Survived the Uchiha massacre night and appeared in the village almost six years later, while for her not even a day had passed. Plus, per Shisui, Sarada was more talented than Sasuke. D-rank mission results didn't reflect her potential, but as a genin to master nature transformation and bring genjutsu to Kurenai's level and beyond... Kakashi was genuinely curious to see this prodigy, especially since Itachi had trained her.
Kakashi pulled himself up and climbed onto the plateau. Untied his left arm.
"Yo! Uchiha Sarada, right?"
Sasuke, following his gaze, turned to his stepsister too. Sarada bowed timidly. Kakashi frowned. Talent or not, what was Shisui thinking? How was she going to train with that arm? When he saved her from Gaara, the bruises hadn't shown yet, but now her right arm was a mess.
"Shisui-kun asked me to look after both of you. But Sarada, you could use another week in the hospital."
"I don't want to waste time."
They're alike in some way.
Kakashi glanced at Sasuke.
Alike externally—not strange for clan members. But spiritually alike too. Sasuke had also escaped the hospital early, found him, and declared he was ready for training.
Self-sacrifice is commendable. But when sparring starts—you won't be able to do anything with that arm. Pain is one thing, but injuring her worse would be dangerous.
"Fine, warm-up time, kids."
Day after day passed, less and less time remained until the main matches, and Naruto decided he couldn't waste a minute. He understood that he had beaten Kiba by sheer luck, and the opponents who advanced to the third stage were such that shadow clones and willpower alone wouldn't cut it. He spent whole days by the river with the perverted hermit, futilely trying to summon a tadpole, and gradually broke the habit of standing guard under the Uchiha house entrance.
Useless.
Naruto had hoped everything would be like before. But his little sister returned, loneliness didn't go away, and the expected joy was filled with bitterness. Naruto still came home evenings to an empty apartment where no one waited for him, and Sarada... As if all that had united them since childhood never happened. She didn't particularly seek to talk to him, withdrew, spent more time at home or with her clansmen. Even with that arrogant idiot Sasuke.
All this was very strange. Her sudden appearance in the village, her age... It was so strange to see Sarada not as an older sister, but as a peer. Naruto thought her body would change, but her soul would stay the same. But it turned out the opposite: body stayed the same, but the familiar face looked at him with a stranger's gaze, cold and distant.
Naruto suddenly realized he didn't know at all the one he so familiarly called "nee-chan." What happened to her that evening she ran from his house? Where had Sarada been all this time? Why hadn't she grown? Naruto didn't dare ask, but felt those events had changed his friend beyond recognition.
And yet, Sarada's appearance in Konoha wasn't without impact on Naruto. He stopped seeking meetings with her by loitering at the entrance, but thoughts of his little sister didn't leave Naruto for a minute.
Train, train, train! Let the suit be soaked in sweat, let nothing work, but he had to try. He had to surpass himself this month, because otherwise he couldn't beat Neji.
And if he lost to Neji...
All these years, Naruto had trained relentlessly to achieve his dream—to become Hokage. So that people who pointed fingers and saw him as scum would realize how wrong they were. But now Konoha's opinion didn't matter to Naruto. What did all these people know? They knew nothing! They weren't to judge, but her. Only Sarada had the right to decide if he was strong, worthy of the Hokage title. The first person who recognized him, believed in him, and declared that he, Uzumaki Naruto, would become the Seventh Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.
Before, Naruto had been the eye of the hurricane. The world spun around him: people rushed somewhere, life whirled in a circle, and he sat alone in the calm center, and whenever he tried to join the flow, he was thrown back—not outward, but inward.
Loneliness.
Isolation.
He desperately wanted to become something from nothing; wanted those racing headlong on their paths, ignoring him, to suddenly stop and turn their faces to him.
But now everything changed. The world spun around Sarada, carrying him along like everyone else. Few could step into the hurricane's eye where his friend now dwelt: Uchiha Shisui, Sasuke, even Sakura... They could, while Naruto was pushed aside, knocked down, shouldered away, unable to get a step closer to Sarada.
Everything Naruto thought about boiled down to her. Everything he did related to this girl from the Uchiha clan.
What if Sarada was disappointed in him after that meeting when Sasuke and Sakura-chan dragged him by the arms? Maybe that's why she avoided him? And if he lost to Neji—Sarada would be disappointed for good. Victory was his chance to prove he wasn't nothing, to get her attention. Maybe then she'd stop avoiding him?
Excitement and bitterness raged in Naruto's soul, but beside them lurked a pleasantly pulling anticipation, as if a grand celebration with gifts and treats was brewing nearby, and he might be invited if deemed worthy. Naruto had no idea what festivity it was, where the anticipation came from, and most importantly, how it connected to Sarada? But there was definitely a connection, because this inexplicable feeling first ignited in his heart the moment he saw Sarada again after so many years.
Naruto bit his thumb, formed seals, and slapped his palm on the rocky riverbank.
Summoning Jutsu!
A summoning pattern emerged under his hand, and a small spotted tadpole appeared on the rocks.
"Damn! Ahh, why can't I get a proper one, dattebayo!"
"Hey-hey," the perverted hermit grumbled discontentedly.
He squatted by the bushes, peeking through the foliage at bathing girls. From around the river bend came the roar of the waterfall, splashes, and ringing girlish laughter.
"Naruto, quieter. Don't scare off my... uh... intel gathering."
"You promised to train me!"
"Summoned a frog?"
Naruto eyed the tadpole doubtfully and shielded it just in case: what if the hermit turned and saw.
"Almost."
"When it's not 'almost,' we'll talk."
And he buried himself in the bushes again. Nearly headfirst.
Damn pervert.
Emergency meeting. Shisui knelt in the Hokage's Residence hall, eyeing his colleagues. Flashes of memories from other meetings years ago flickered before his eyes. Hatred and fury saturating the stuffy air of the Naka Shrine basement. Uchiha's mistake, Hokage's mistake. And his mistake.
The atmosphere in the Residence was different. The hall was stuffy too, but not because it was underground like the clan meeting place, just summer heat. Tension hung in the air. Too many people gathered. Familiar faces: Aoba, Asuma, Kurenai, Raido, Genma, Kakashi, Guy, Anko, Ibiki, and many others. All his own. However...
They don't even realize what happiness it is—to sit at a meeting, feel unity, and understand we're all fighting for one good cause. And that we're all doing the right thing.
These people faithfully served the village and never had to attend rebellious meetings like the Uchiha's. They didn't know what it was like: torn between duty to the village and clan, choosing whom to betray, because each side tries to lure you, and staying true to both is impossible.
The three elders, all except Danzou, sat at the long table. Mitokado Homura to the Third's right, and to the left—old woman Koharu. Before Hiruzen lay the Hokage hat.
"Some of you may already know," the Third rasped. "Gekko Hayate's body was found near Kikyo Castle."
"Hayate?" Asuma exclaimed.
Amazed exclamations rose from the hall: "Unbelievable!" "No way..."
Shisui glanced at Anko. Staring grimly at the floor, she muttered:
"Orochimaru's work, right?"
"No. Don't jump to conclusions." Kakashi sat freely on the floor, knee up, elbow on it. As always, lazy and cold. "Hayate likely stumbled on Kabuto's trail, Sound spy. But behind the scenes—Orochimaru, no doubt."
"Then halt the exam and focus on Orochimaru!" Raido exclaimed.
Thanks, Raido.
Shisui shared the opinion. He'd been telling the Hokage for a while, but the stubborn old man wouldn't agree. Speaking up again was useless, but support among jonin might sway the Third's decision.
"No, we can't," Hiruzen replied. "I have intel that Orochimaru openly threatened the Leaf with retribution if we halt the exam. And all our allies are present."
"What are you getting at?" Homura asked.
"Orochimaru alone could take a small country. And other nations likely haven't taken eyes off him since he left the village. He's long held a grudge against Konoha. Many would be happy to ally with him."
"Did one of our allies betray us and join Orochimaru?" Raido exclaimed.
"Well, alliances are made with words, tested in deeds. Looks like another war is inevitable," Kakashi replied.
"We don't have precise info yet," Hiruzen stated. "Let's not rush conclusions."
"ANBU already sent to scout other countries," old woman Koharu with slit-like eyes droned dryly. "Any rash move now is dangerous. They might be aiming for exactly that."
The pendants on her high hairpin swayed with a faint chime. Shisui frowned almost imperceptibly.
These old folks act like they know everything and Konoha will fall without their say. But in fact—useless.
Reaching such age as shinobi is a feat. Either very good shinobi like Hiruzen and the legendary sannin. Or they dodged danger, stayed in the rear while comrades charged into hellfire. Shisui leaned toward the second, because the legendary sannin were world-famous, but these old folks weren't. Such people ran the Leaf. Cowardly insurance-takers who likely had no own opinions and long fell under Danzou's influence.
Despite tense relations with the Root leader, Shisui respected him. Disagreed with Danzou's methods but respected the man as a politician, because he knew what he wanted and what he was doing, unlike a weathervane taking the more authoritative side.
"Besides..." Hiruzen smiled warmly. "I believe in each of you. If worst comes—Konoha will bare its sword and fight!"
The unpleasant feeling born from looking at the elders receded. Shisui felt a bond with everyone at the meeting. One goal, one faith. No schism, no doubts. Just the desire to protect home, felt by each.