Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi. Plot and certain details come from my very fucked up mind.

Preliminary Author's Note: This will be very long, and very detailed. Don't be afraid.

Chapter 0

Crafting the Crown of Thorns

Three days of freezing rain, the last vestiges of a harsh winter, had finally given way to a pristine night sky partially dominated by the full moon; utterly dominated by strange recurring dreams of smoke and blood and pain and a mysterious burning effulgence; all appreciated only by a lone man on an apartment balcony.

Sasuke idly scratched his neck, lost in thought, almost meditative on the intuitive connection he made four years ago between the suppression of his curse seal and the first dream.

Whatever he was dreaming of had been fleshed out over the intervening years, like an oil painting taking shape, wash after wash, layer over layer. Revelations in the dreamscape came agonizingly slow. He spent most of his time muddling about on the floor of what seemed like a decrepit dungeon, usually writhing in pseudo-pain. Voices were intermittent, appearing some nights, going unheard for weeks, then reappearing randomly to split his skull in half, a hysterical cacophony resembling some of the choicer Oto jounin techniques.

Tsunade and Kakashi were of no help, almost reluctant to help him understand the hurricane-like systems of seals wrapped around his torso, surrounding his curse seal like it was the eye of storm. If he didn't understand the seals, how could he understand why he suffered from the dreams. And ultimately, how Orochimaru's mental control over him had been broken. More than anything, he feared becoming a puppet again.

Sasuke glanced over his shoulder. "Sometimes I think you're the only person on my side."

"You'll catch a cold standing outside in training shorts, and don't think I'll get some antibiotics from the hospital again." Sakura shivered and pulled her silk robe tighter around her body before stepping outside to join him. She draped a blanket over his shoulders and leaned over the railing, looking around at the empty streets. When the sun came out tomorrow, the market would explode with people venturing outside for the first time in days.

"Maybe we can both take the day off tomorrow. Walk around a bit, enjoy the sunshine. The dreams will go away, just let them come and ignore them." Sakura rubbed his neck, trying to undo kinks in muscles only a med-nin would be able to recognize. Sasuke was always too tense after waking up in the middle of the night.

"Easy for you to say. Your dreams only revolved around me, usually in varying states of undress. I knew were staring at me through the screen for awhile. Tsunade will be so disappointed that you took after Kakashi." Sakura pinched him lightly, but Sasuke only leaned farther into her touch. It really did help him, such a simple sensation was so central to their relationship. Sleep came easy after, always dreamless and very comforting, for both of them.

Eventually they headed back to bed, the somber mood broken by insistent pokes, unmanly giggles, gossip, heartfelt declarations, and a detour on the kitchen table. Across the street, two ANBU finally faded into view. "Did you get all that?"

"Naturally. But it's not like he said anything remotely interesting tonight."

"That's not the point rookie."

"You will play the violin!" Jiraiya punched Naruto in the throat, leaving him rolling on the ground in agony. "This training journey isn't for fun. I'm not going to be teaching you new jutsu everyday. You'll learn what I teach you, not what you want!"

Naruto glared at him, speaking scratchily and in obvious pain. "What does the violin have to do with getting Sasuke back!? I need to get stronger so I can beat him up!"

Jiraiya laughed callously. "I was nice to you earlier, first because you were a brat, second because you weren't a real shinobi." He prematurely cut off Naruto's retort with a finger. "This is for real. You'll die. That's it. Sasuke didn't kill you at the Valley of the End—count yourself lucky—but Akatsuki will. My job isn't to make sure you're able to bring back a traitor but stay alive because you're Konoha's most valuable weapon."

Naruto was oddly quiet after that. Every time he began to speak, he closed his mouth, seemingly arguing with himself over how to reply. After they had eaten a quiet dinner, he opened the case and took out the violin and bow looking to Jiraiya for his first instructions. Jiraiya knew this was only a minor victory, probably Naruto thinking to indulge an old man for his secrets. If Jiraiya had wanted to be indulged, Naruto would consistently be maintaining Harem no Jutsu, among other things.

Hopefully Naruto would learn some patience like Minato had eventually. Jiraiya would not fail in his mission, even if he had to beat the objectives into Naruto. "Hold the violin parallel to the ground, rest it on your left collar bone, and relax your knees." Jiraiya produced another violin from the folds of his sleeves. "Hold the bow like me and watch carefully."

It was easy for Ino to let her guard down in an unassuming place like Hokuto. One of several sizable cities dotting the eastern coast of the Kaminari no Kuni, evidence of modernization that had not yet reached the hidden villages was obvious. The constant stream of people, salmon-like in their migration upwards to the pristine and unchallenged mountains away from the port and factory district, or more accurately towards the real money, provided the perfect current for her to go along her business. This far north in Kumo territory, working so overtly became the norm for her. It had been months since she had used a profile kit for anything other than assassinations.

A certain Ebisawa Junzo had been identified as a potential food distributor ran by a valuable enemy cell. TOWHEAD had moved in two weeks ago. They had made contact with one of the few remaining iANBU cells operating in the city before beginning a deep surveillance op. Between Hokuto and a number of other coastal cities in the region, there were only three stations that actually counted. The amount of worthwhile intelligence coming out of this city had been low for quite a few years. Consequently, the number of available of operatives on short notice inside city was woefully inadequate compared to the ever increasing demands of the Tactics and Strategy Squad.

She was almost unsettled by the ease she merged into the flow after insertion. There were no familiar, black-haired, diminutive profiles to look down on, but row upon row, military rank and file of blond giants that looked her in the eye and returned her appraising smirks. Whether it was a rancid dive bar in the port district, or a trendy nightclub overlooking the city's nether regions, the frank openness about sex was refreshing. It was the obvious counterpoint to the hellish pace of life anywhere in the city. With the current political and military situation it wasn't wise to push the bounds Strategy had set out for her assignment. In layman's terms, it meant not fucking on the job.

Technically Kumo and Konoha were at peace, but wars rarely started and ended in the open. So far meaningful combat had been restricted to the ANBU units and their equivalents. Soon it would be all business, for everyone. Reports on enemy movement in the northern regions of Kaminari had been begun to pile up on the desks of analysts in Konoha. The political machinations leading to outright hostilities between nations were too far along to influence in any meaningful way. War was inevitable.

The target in question had done nothing of note for the past three hours. Ino hated stakeouts with a passion. Another sleepless night watching Ebisawa cook, eat, and veg out in front of the TV was only made worse by her precarious position. Perched on a small ledge on the building across the street, Ino hoped risking a direct line of sight would provide even the smallest detail to make cracking the enemy cell easier. She only knew that he had had semi-regular contact with known Kumo ANBU operatives over the past two months.

Ino shifted her weight and held back a sigh. The current form of surveillance was extremely dangerous and extremely boring. Currently Ebisawa was awkwardly clunking around the kitchen trying to cook. He always tried to cook. A creature of habit; which was where the problem always came in.

What minor deviation in his routine was in the in? Which seemingly insignificant variable in the minutiae that made up his life was the key to deciphering the destination unidentified food shipments he had been facilitating for almost five months? What part of his tediously documented day was the line they needed to map the future movements of six Kumo-elite platoons? Suddenly, her comm-set clicked to life.

"--Odoriko. Two spiders. Take Z12. Y9 is locked. Mark at 15," said her cover.

15…14…13… They had been noticed. Ino didn't shift a muscle. Through her scope, Ebisawa was now adding what looked to be raw chicken to his wok. 12…11…10… Inhale. Exhale. Ino moved slowly and deliberately through motions ingrained by rote in training, and perfected over two years of active service. 9…8…7… Inhale. Exhale. Left hand to scratch left ear. Pause one beat. Slide tanto from arm sheath to palm. Detach scope with right hand. 6…5…4…Inhale. Exhale. Lean forward and release chakra connecting feet to surface. 3…2…1… Inhale. Exhale. Grip scope in right palm. Grip tanto in left palm. 0…Inhale. Launch.

The shinobi below had no time to react. The acceleration of gravity in free fall lent enough force to bury Ino's tanto up to the grip as she plummeted past him. The placement and angle of the blade was perfect, right between the second and third vertebrae of the spine through the back of the neck. Most importantly, no time for the ninja to signal for backup.

Tenko sighed and pocketed his kunai. Ino could have died just as easily as the two Kumo-nin if the situation had unfolded differently. The moment he had spotted the ninjas climbing up around her, he'd signaled for the secondary to move in.

A quick jump, flip, and twist left him on the roof's edge hauling Ino and the corpse up by wire. They had to dispose of the body quickly and discreetly and make plans for extraction.

Ebisawa was a wash, as was any chance of getting reliable intel on those platoons. TOWHEAD would be gone by the end of the week.

Thankfully Sarutobi-sensei never cottoned on that his erstwhile student wasn't only trying to peep in on the ANBU showers when he started his sealing apprenticeship. Besides, who was he as Jiraiya's sensei to begrudge a little training. Even Tsunade and Orochimaru were amazed by his growing talents in fuin jutsu. Discreetly unraveling the binds on the multiple seals clouding the glass between the men's bath and the women's bath was beyond most ninja period, ANBU or otherwise. Even that weird seal Tsunade had put on her bedroom window unraveled eventually.

This was different though. Jiraiya was stumped. Absolutely. Positively. Undeniably. Stumped. It didn't happen much, but it wasn't unheard of. Not only was this conundrum was so far beyond Tsunade's indiscriminate amalgamation of the Four-Corner Tiger Seal reinforced with the first part of the third Fuja Hoin sealing derivative that he almost gave up, but it was just different. What the hell was Naruto trying to isolate with all these condition-controlled loops?

Naruto's growth in just a year of intensive training was amazing, but Jiraiya still had trouble understanding him sometimes. The private Naruto that had emerged along their travels was very different from everyone's perceptions. Still surprising, but in a myriad of ways more subtle and insidious in their expression. His prank habit was only scratching the surface it seemed.

That compartmentalization of feeling and personality played right into Jiraiya's hands. Hatake Kakashi and his ilk aside, the best ANBU were fashioned from the most unexpected materials.

Kakashi hated coming to consciousness in hospital beds. Thankfully no one had taken off his mask this time. Last time he had been in the hospital for an extended stay he'd been forced to sneak out in the middle of the night. Kakashi had eventually found the nurse and her camera, but from then on it was self treatment only.

Lately, temping for the ANBU Combat Division was taking its toll. It wasn't out right injury this time as much as diffused chakra retention in his muscles. They would begin to loose muscle mass and strength if he kept having to force chakra into them for constant high-speed movements.

Kakashi tried to sit up. Failure. He felt as if someone has sucked out all his energy with a vacuum.

"Defeated by bed sheets Kakashi, embarrassing. If I ever need to control you, I'll make sure to dope you up."

Kakashi shifted his gaze to the figure sitting on the window sill. Shizune's wry grin belied her worry. She obviously hadn't been sleeping well. All the elite shinobi hadn't. They realized what was coming. They knew the dirty word was making starting to trickle down the grapevine. Konoha was unprepared. Thankfully, what for exactly had been kept quiet.

Kakashi wanted to say something to alleviate her anxiety but he couldn't even move his lips. All the words he wanted to say escaped in an infantile gurgle. Shizune laughed, tension flowing out of her as she came and sat on the edge of his bed.

"You've had us all worried, an absolute wreck when you were brought in, and unconscious for almost two days." Her hands idly smoothed out wrinkles in his gown as she talked. "That's not even counting almost an entire day you spent in treatment. You really need to stop pushing yourself so hard, no matter how many of your team you need to compensate for. All these upcoming rookies are going to need veterans more than ever to show them the ropes."

"Sakuya-hime gave you two days to recuperate before you're to report to Yamajiro so make sure you actually rest. No stupid competitions with Gai!

"Tsunade is coming later for the debriefing. I might as well fill out your chart while we're at it. Vitals first." Shizune made short work of it, clinical but there was an undercurrent of anger to her motions. Kakashi didn't appreciate being rolled, poked, and prodded roughly for no reason.

"Lastly, I guess as punishment...Some torture for being so reckless. Doctor's orders" Kakashi did not like that smirk. Just what was she planning, or was it Tsunade. Maybe even Sakura was in on it? All he could manage was an impudent squeak as Shizune pinched his nose. She slowly wormed a nail, and then a finger under his mask, slowly starting to pull it down his face.

Kakashi's mind protested vehemently. How could Shizune unmask him in a public area!? He was only able to gurgle angrily before her lips closed over his. Her kiss held none of the tenderness he remembered from Risshun some weeks back. It was insistent, more than a bit needy, and very welcomed but a bit problematic.

Shizune climbed on top of him and tore off his gown. "Don't worry. According to your dosage, the drugs should start wearing off in five minutes."

Kakashi glanced at the door.

"Please, I run this hospital. No one will be in here for at least another twenty minutes." She interpreted his expression perfectly. "Exactly. It's a race."

Author's Note: It only took me a year to get back to this, begin a rewrite of something I never actually wrote. The plot is much better fleshed out now, even held together better by the introduction of certain canonical elements in the past year. Hopefully I can keep to my tentative update schedule, and at least satisfy some of the goals I've set for this story and my writing.

Constructive reviews will help me improve. Don't hold back.

Glossary

Risshun – Japanese festival marking the division between winter and spring

Yamajiro - ANBU Fortress Headquarters

iANBU - Intelligence ANBU