The Many Worries of an Overprotective Father


Inoichi Yamanaka begins worrying the moment of his daughter's conception. Technically speaking, he supposes he can't really have started worrying until he and his wife found out two months later, but Inoichi is not a technical man. In a way, he feels he's been worrying about her since the beginning of time.


He's uneasy when she takes her first wobbly steps. He cannot deny that it's a proud moment, but there's something in the way those chubby little legs tremble, threatening to collapse beneath her, that sets him on edge. It doesn't matter that she's stumbling across a blanket spread out for a picnic. Or that it lies upon a bed of soft, thick grass. She is walking. He is not holding her, and that means more than ever that she could fall.


He chokes when his five year old girl looks up at him with big, sapphire eyes and tells him she wants to be a strong shinobi, just like her daddy. She's been asking lots of questions lately, like why the sky is blue and what her mother does, and more importantly, what he does that entails him not coming home some nights and on even rarer occasions being gone for weeks at a time, and does he help many people and fights lots of bad guys, and oh! Are they scary? Do you always beat them? Once at a gathering of the clans, Shikaku caught him exaggerating the truth, not in telling her that there were in fact many bad guys, but in adding that they all had sharp claws and fangs, eyes that glowed red, and insatiable appetites for little girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. The Nara laughs at him, but does not dispute his claims. Inoichi is sure she's afraid. So why, then, is she asking that whatever a shinobi is, can she be one too? Just like you, Daddy?


Two years later, his little girl is enthusiastically telling her mother about the crush she has on the rising Uchiha prodigy. They sit around their kitchen table, over a steaming home cooked meal, and all she can talk about is how cool, how awesome, how cute this boy is. He doesn't like the sounds of that, not one little bit. His wife's assurance that she's just a little girl and it's just a little crush do little to brighten his suddenly dark mood. It's all she can do to keep him from storming to the Uchiha grounds right that moment. At least wait until she's asleep, she half whisper-laughs. He reluctantly agrees , but by the time his wife and daughter are done eating, they're talking about the flowers they'll be able to plant this season, and his little girl's little crush is forgotten.


Inoichi's heart breaks when he comes home one evening to find her, almost eight years old, locked into her room, sobbing loudly on the other side of a door he considers breaking down when she tells him to leave her alone, she's fine and she doesn't want to talk about it right now. Her best friend's gone and betrayed her. She's so fragile. The world is so cruel.


He's in one hell of a mood the day of Ino's initiation into the academy. He asks her multiple times throughout the ceremony if she's sure she wants to do this, wouldn't she just rather work in the flower shop? But No, Daddy. I want to be just like you. When the last of the names are called and the chuunin leaders take them inside for their first glimpse of the academy, he stands outside with his closest comrades and their wives. They tease and poke and prod. It's just the academy. She'll be sitting in a classroom for four years, for Kami's sake. There's nothing to worry about. He listens for a minute and tries to convince himself that they're right and she'll be fine, but they don't understand. It's not just that she's in the academy. It's that she's on the path to a very dangerous lifestyle and doesn't show any signs of changing her mind any time soon.


If initiation was bad, it's nothing compared to graduation. Though she frets about it for weeks prior, she passes the exam with flying colors. She's granted a headband and thrown into a three-man-squad with a jounin sensei. Not just any three man squad. She's been placed with the Nara and Akimichi boys, and if he knows how their fathers are, they won't turn her away because she's a girl. To them she will be a member of the Ino-Shika-Cho tradition, and they will be great trouble-making shinobi like their fathers, and they won't give her a chance to be an exception. He frets even when he knows her missions consist of walking dogs and fishing debris out of rivers. The dogs could be big. The currents could overwhelm her.


He's a nervous wreck when she tells him the "good" news. Asuma-sensei thinks they're doing really well, and he's going to let them participate in the Chuunin exams, just months after their graduation. The rest of the Rookie Nine get to enter, too. She's not ready. It's too soon. He's not ready. But though he's nervous, there is excitement on her eyes. She's on her way, she says, and one day she'll show him- she'll be a great kunoichi one day, and she promises she'll make him proud. He's already proud. He'd be proud if she took his advice and worked in the flower shop for the rest of her life, too, and in a hell-of-a-lot better mental state to boot. She's too old for the old monster tales to work anymore, (not that they did much good in the first place, he muses), so he simply asks if she's scared. She fidgets when she admits that yes, she's scared. But Asuma-sensei thinks they can do it. He believes in them, and she has Shikamaru and Chouji and they're Ino-Shika-Cho so it'll be okay. She'll make it. Besides, you made it through.

He's relieved when he hears that the first part of the exam is the traditional writing test.

Not so relieved when he finds out who the proctor is. Ibiki is not necessarily a bad guy, but when it comes to his line of duty, he's a monster way worse than the ones he tried to scare her with as a child. He's going to break her. I have to go in there. She needs to go home.

Somehow his wife manages to hold him back.

Part two: the forest of death. He thinks he might die. She's not somewhere he can see her now. It's not just paper and pencils. There are threats, real and dangerous. There are people who can and who will –would, he thinks. Would. Not will. Would.- kill her. She's not ready. He will never be ready.

Word spreads of a death in the training field.

This time, his wife goes and fetches his friends, because there's no way she can stop him right now and he's so wound up and he's going to have a damn heart attack, so please please please do something now!


Results are posted. Her team survived the forest. They made it- all of the rookies did. However, she didn't make the cut when it came to the preliminary exam; she tied with the girl who so heartlessly declared them rivaled half a decade ago. He hurts for his daughter, because he knows she is ashamed and hates herself for not being able to win, for not being strong enough. But she's home now, and she's safe, and if she wants to take the exam later that's fine, but he is going to make sure she's as ready as possible. He'll teach her everything he knows in the hopes that he won't face that terror ever again.


Somewhere along the line, she's started dating. He finds out about it in the midst of the chuunin battles; it's something his wife lets slip as they're observing from a separate section of the stadium. He thinks he said something along the lines of "Let's take her to that foreign food place down the road, she hasn't been there in a while", and his wife, gaze fixed on an ongoing battle, unthinkingly replies that "Actually, she was just there with…" It's not a name he's heard before. A civilian, maybe, or more likely another genin. It doesn't matter. Who cares what the name is? She did what?

She's too young for dating. Dating leads to expectations that lead to intimacy. Intimacy is a very bad thing. On a less extreme note, dating means risking a broken heart, and he does not want to see her hurt ever again.

He doesn't care if it's fair or not. That night he assures her she's in trouble for dating without his permission, for not telling him, and yes, she's grounded for the rest of her life.

…He doesn't have the resolve. She's off the hook before the night ends, but she's still too. Young. To date. Don't forget it.


The Uchiha boy has left the village. She doesn't cry. She shuts down. She eats little, talks less, and spends the weekend curled up in bed, staring absently at the ceiling. He knows this is the beginning. Its' a tragedy that's shaken the rookie nine to its core, and thus it is the real beginning of the loss of innocence. He feels like he's failed her again, seeing how broken she is.

But somehow he's glad. The Uchiha boy is out of the picture.


She begins pushing herself. He worries she's taking too much on. Aside from her daily training, missions with Team 10, and shifts at the flower shop, she's begun training under the new Hokage as a medic. At first he suspects she's just competing with Sakura, but he understands. It's her determination speaking. A failed exam, the destruction of the village, and the departure of her childhood friend have left her feeling insignificant. She wants more than that. She wants to be strong. To be a great kunoichi. It's a lot of responsibility, but it's make her hopeful. Maybe it's for the best. Besides. This way she's got little time for the dating he knows she's kept up behind his back.


Months have passed. She's grown significantly and in addition to leaving him hysterically afraid on more than one occasion, she's made him very, very proud. She's just turned fourteen and for a time he thinks all is well. Except it's not. One night he comes home after a late evening of Intel work and finds her crying, again. When he catches her, she stubbornly wipes the tears away and acts like she wasn't just gushing her eyes out. She refuses to tell him what's happened, but he expects it has something to do with the Nara boy leaving for a year-long mission to Suna. He's noticed how fond she's become of the boy, even if she hasn't.


Two years pass. She grows and goes through a lot. Patients she can't save, missions that can't be accomplished, loss, grief, physical pain… When Shikamaru returns, she switches from mopey to angry in a heartbeat. He thinks he catches her mumbling something about some girl in Suna; the words she uses are colorful and not at all polite. Her missions intensify. She's faced with real foes, like the Akatsuki, who claim the life of her sensei and another huge chunk of her childish innocence. Sasuke is declared an official threat to the village and this upsets her greatly. Things grow increasingly tense for the remnants of Team 10.

Until they get better. Apparently, they've all sat down and had a talk or something – or maybe it was just her and the shadow boy, he can't be sure, but whatever the case, she seems to be recovering. She's the closest to happy he's seen her in ages.


And then comes the war. The atmosphere is intense in the Yamanaka residence the night it's announced, because she's older now, and as much as he doesn't want it, this is the path she's chosen and she'll likely be fighting in it too. She confirms that hers will be one of the squads dispatched. But it's okay, she tells him, because she'll be with Shikamaru and Chouji this time, and they know how to take care of each other. As they go to bed that night, she whispers You be careful, too, Daddy- okay? He promises he'll watch his back, and they'll all go out to her favorite restaurant again when it's all over.

He knows he needs to rest, but he can't sleep that night. How could anyone? He's seen war before. He knows what to expect, but Ino does not. He's terrified that this will take away the light that's been coming back to her eyes entirely, her naivety and childish bliss with it. She's not ready. He's not ready for her to do this.

His wife fights sleep beside him. She's afraid. He promises her he'll come back and swears he'll bring their daughter back, but she knows the reality of the shinobi world as well as he does, just by association. He's trying to console her when he hears the muffled sliding of a window pane, and he knows his daughter's headed out into the night to meet with that boy. He hopes the other boy will be there too, that it'll just be an Ino-Shika-Cho bonding/promise time or something like that and not something… He shakes his head.

She's a strong kunoichi now, and even though she will always be his precious baby girl, she is nearly an adult. He will not stop her now. He just prays they'll watch each other's backs in the chaos they're about to walk into.


Shinobi line the battlefield. The battalions, the medics, the sensing squad. Shinobi of the Leaf and all the other villages too, all standing together in the face of this greatest of shared enemies. There are so many of them, each ablaze with a burning hope. From his spot on the cliff next to his oldest friend, Inoichi observes. In the middle of it all is the boy. The Jinchuuriki, the loud-mouth, the one that's ignited this hopeful atmosphere, who dreams of becoming Hokage. For a moment, Inoichi can imagine that. But then his gaze begins to roam.

He doesn't have to look far. The rest of the Konoha 11 are gathered around Uzumaki Naruto. Among them is his daughter, no longer a baby. She looks so grown up in the general uniform of a Leaf shinobi- it stops him dead in his tracks. When did she stop being the chubby-cheeked toddler whose first steps had left him breathless? When did he become the grown woman, the proud kunoichi, the great shinobi before him now?

But there's no time to muse. The situation is dire, and if they don't act soon, he might not have a daughter left to worry about. Somewhere behind him, Shikaku grunts, breaking his analytical silence. He's only been standing there for a few minutes, but in that time Inoichi knows he's played through a thousand possibilities, hundreds of ways this battle could go down. It seems he's finally settled on an acceptable strategy.

"I just came up with a way to stop the Juubi in its tracks," he says, his voice steady with resolve. "Consider it our final mission. Connect me to everyone on the battlefield."

Final mission. The words play themselves back in Inoichi's mind as he does what he's told. He closes his eyes, focuses, and patches Shikaku through. As the man relays his plan to the shinobi below them, the words echo once more. Final mission.

So this is how it ends, he muses to himself, aside from the broadcasted strategy. There is no fear in the thought. He trust Shikaku's judgment- if he says this plan will stop the Juubi, it will stop the Juubi. If his dying means the life of the present shinobi – if his final breath allows the possibility of his daughter walking away with many more ahead of her, that's alright with him.

Ino. He knows the thought doesn't reach her. He's still transmitting Shikaku's words, and those are the ones she needs to focus on now. He keeps his own reflection to himself. The years flash before him now- his home, his friends, his family, his precious child. He sees her in every phase of her life; the chubby cheeks and bright blue stare that defined her infancy, the sassy attitude that developed in her early childhood, her signature purple-clad adolescence. And with the realization of his final moment approaching, he opens his eyes and looks at her now.

Her gaze remains focused on the enemy ahead as she listens to the hurried strategy, but her fists clench at her side and he knows she's probably trembling. She is scared, but where she might have once cried out in protest, she now stands determined. There's little left of the innocent child he held so dear, but such is the way of life as a shinobi. For the moment, she doesn't let that bother her. She's cool, collected, confident in the path she's chosen. (Shikaku is wrapping things up. The bodies below stiffen as his words sink in- there is hope. Victory will come with a cost, but it is attainable.)

Later, Inoichi suspects his daughter will cry. The thought pains him for a moment, and he wishes there was more time. Time to console her, to share these mushy thoughts that have come to his head. But Shikaku mutters something along the lines of "Alright, that's done. Are you ready?", and it's all he can do to cast his daughter one final glance.

This time, what he sees surprises him.

For the first time in her life, she is not all he sees. Instead, he notices her in association with the boy beside her. Shikaku's son stands to her right, his cold stare set on the Juubi. He shows no outward indication that he's paying attention to his teammate, but somehow Inoichi just knows that it's the Nara boy's unwavering composure that's keeping the girl calm.

Though they do not touch, he sees it clear as day. The boy gives her the strength to stand. He thinks Shikamaru might be leaning on her, as well, but he can't be sure. It's time to go.

Inoichi braces himself.

He hopes they both make it out alive.

He hopes the boy will be there to comfort her when she cries when he cannot. That he'll realize just how precious a person is that Inoichi is about to entrust to him.

Take care of my daughter, he thinks. Into the words, he pours every memory, every hope he's ever had, and all the love for his child he can cram in. And just because he is Inoichi, as overprotective a father as has ever set foot in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, he tints the words with an unspoken threat to come back and haunt the kid if he doesn't. Then he smiles, sends the thought on its way, and embraces the end.

He does not stop worrying as he releases his final breath. He will never stop worrying, in this life or the next. But far away, he thinks he sees the boy nod, and his fears are soothed. It's a dangerous path his daughter has set out on. She will face many hardships. She will cry herself to sleep. She will hurt and scream and lose and act rashly on more than one occasion. She'll make mistakes. She'll lose herself in the darkness.

But with the boy's simple gesture, Inoichi is sure there will be someone to help her through it all.

She'll be a great shinobi. She'll continue to make him proud.

She'll have someone to lean on, and she'll be just fine.

He's ready. So is she.