The Stranger In Black

Chapter 02

"Well?"

Sarutobi Hiruzen looked at the people gathered before him with a steel-cold glint in his eyes. He had just finished briefing Konoha's newest jounin an hour ago and was now waiting for the real results of the day's evaluations. He focused his steely gaze at Nara Shikaku, silently demanding answers.

The Jounin Commander gestured to the two jounin a pace behind him and said, "Yamanaka Izumi-san and Shinya Hideo-san were the ones who conducted the psychological and physical evaluations. Hideo-san, please tell us of your findings."

The gruff-looking jounin stepped forward and bowed deeply to the Hokage. "Hokage-sama, I conducted the physical evaluation for Hayashi Menma as per instructions from Nara-sama. Hayashi-san is in very good health with larger than normal chakra capacity. Blood samples taken returned negative on all tests for diseases, toxins, and other pathogens. No evidence of reconstructive surgery or appearance-altering seals were found on his person. No identifying scars or marks either. Point of interest are his eyes, one red and the other blue, that does not suggest that it's a product of a kekkei genkai. In other words, Hokage-sama, he's clean."

Finished with his report, Hideo stepped back and glanced at the Yamanaka beside him, which she saw as her cue to report. She stepped forward and bowed, as deep as Hideo had done, and began, "Sir, as per instructions by the Jounin Commander I conducted the evaluation on Hayashi Menma following clan and village protocol on unknown ninja. I asked him a series of questions, mundane things really, that a spy would have trouble answering unless he's invested a great deal of time in learning about them. I was able to confirm that he's been around Hi no Kuni in his travels with his master before reaching Konoha, he was able to give out significant landmarks and apt descriptions of the towns and villages they encountered. No hesitation, no evasion. He's remarkably honest, sir."

"Is that all?" asked Hiruzen, fingers steepled on his desk. Izumi shook her head.

"During the course of the interview I tried to apply a combination of genjutsu and my clan's jutsu to get a brief look at his mind," she shook her head again, this time as if from a memory. "It was... difficult, sir. I wasn't able to get a good read at all, not even surface emotions that would usually be there on the forefront of our minds. All I got for my efforts were some kind of static and an echo of my own thoughts, which is why I made the recommendation for Inoichi-sama to take over that part of the evaluation for me." She glanced at her clan head then stepped back behind Shikaku.

"Thank you, Izumi-san, Hideo-san, you may return to your duties," said Hiruzen and the two jounin left the office at his command. "The psych eval doesn't seem very promising. Inoichi, Shikaku requested that you and Ibiki join us for the skills assessment, what did you find?"

"Ibiki was supposed to apply a multi-layered genjutsu to allow me to use some of my clan's more intrusive jutsu, however we encountered... problems," said the Yamanaka, turning to Ibiki who was shaking his head. "The combination of genjutsu and his concentration on the battle against two jounin has proven to be very effective in giving my clan jutsu time to work, however his concentration never faltered and the genjutsu kept failing."

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean the genjutsu failed?" During the course of that battle he had never seen Menma pause to dispel any genjutsu that might have ensnared his senses. It had seemed he had put all of his focus on his objective throughout the entire assessment.

Ibiki shook his head ruefully. "None of the genjutsu that I know of worked, Hokage-sama."

"Not even your special genjutsu?" asked Shikaku, baffled by the idea that Morino Ibiki's genjutsu would fail.

"I use that genjutsu for interrogations, it's too forceful to be used for what we had in mind, but even then I don't think it would have worked. The only genjutsu that might work are kekkei genkai ones, specifically the sharingan, but we don't have many Uchiha to spare, do we?"

Hiruzen sighed. Immunity to genjutsu was unheard of, even the strongest ninja with the most brutal of conditioning fell to it from time to time. He couldn't think of any ninja, alive or dead, who simply were not affected. Not even the Hyuuga's prized byakugan was completely immune. Perhaps Ibiki was correct, that the Uchiha's sharingan might have an effect, but with what had happened so many years ago, there simply weren't any who could use the kekkei genkai.

The sole survivor had yet to awaken his eyes, but maybe Kakashi...

"Despite all that, sir, I was able to get into his mind, if only for a moment," said Inoichi. "It was definitely something that I've never encountered before, I'll be checking on my clan's archives for any instances as I've encountered, but it was definitely new. It took almost all the chakra I had before I was able to get out."

"Explain."

"There isn't much to explain. It's a complete void, no memories, no persona, nothing. It felt like I was floating in darkness. It felt like I was dying." Inoichi looked ashamed by the admission and averted his eyes.

The room fell silent for a moment, each person pondering on the gravity of Inoichi's words. The whole reason for the tests and the assessment was to find out about this mysterious stranger in black, but all they had were more questions than answers. No one could deny that there was the possibility of someone inventing a jutsu to counter the Yamanaka's, or even genjutsu in general, but such a thing would have turned up at some point before now. Not the specifics, but the fact that there simply existed a jutsu that could prove to be impervious to Konoha's mind-walkers.

Konoha had many enemies who wanted to spy its many secrets, but who wouldn't want to brag about it? Jiraiya needed to be informed so that the spy network could be on the proper lookout for such things.

"We can't rule out the possibility that he's a spy, but we can't rule out that his intentions are genuine," said Shikaku, opening his eyes to look at the faces around him. "I suggest we make proper use of him and his skills. Maybe we could recall Jiraiya-sama to evaluate his fuuinjutsu too, while we're at it."

Hiruzen nodded. "That sounds like a good place to start, but maybe you had something a little more specific?"

The Jounin Commander smiled and said, "Here's what I suggest..."

Hatake Kakashi.

The name alone brought a multitude of memories back into the forefront of his mind, all others pushed back into some dark corner to be reviewed at a later time. His features froze, all warmth pulled from the surface to be replaced by the cold gaze of the true professional.

He couldn't allow his mask to slip in the presence of Sharingan Kakashi, even when the memories threatened to burst out of his protective facade. He maintained an indifferent gaze, not daring to meet the man's eyes.

The onslaught of memories of the Sandaime were almost unbearable, but coupled with the memories of Kakashi it was almost excruciatingly painful. He could remember, a long time ago, how these two people had guided him into the man he was now. Kakashi with his laidback attitude who nonetheless had fought the hardest alongside him during the war. Kakashi who had pushed him away from the path of a devastating jutsu. Kakashi who had died screaming in agony as his skin burned away.

The Sandaime, his pseudo-grandfather. Kakashi, his pseudo-brother. He mentally applied the exercises meant to strengthen his resolve, reminding himself that these people were strangers to him just as he was to them. They didn't know him or what he'd gone through, even though he knew them from the depths of his heart.

Kakashi was silent as they made their way towards the apartment that had been assigned to him, for which he was grateful. The silver-haired jounin's recalcitrant nature for once soothed him and put him a little at peace. Back then, way before, the man had been annoying and a little nosy, but now his status as total stranger seemed to keep the man from being too friendly.

He forced his mind back to where they were headed and began to notice once-familiar buildings and shops around him. It was through here, once upon a time, that he'd go to get to his home, surely they...

Oh.

He stopped, in the middle of the street with his cloak billowing around his frame, as he realized where they were going.

Kakashi stopped too, a meter ahead of him, and turned to him with his one eye.

He ignored the other jounin. When he'd been a child, he was the only resident in the building his apartment was at because no one had wanted to live anywhere near someone like him. Would-be neighbors had moved out and found other places to call home and soon the little boy that he was had been left alone. Completely.

So what was the Hokage thinking by placing him someone like his counterpart? He could think of a few things: maybe the old man wanted him to befriend the boy, because he was new and would never know anything about the Kyuubi attack? Or was another of the Hokage's tests? If so, what did want to find out by assigning him, a total unknown who had just appeared close to his village a few hours ago, an aparment near a jinchuuriki?

So far, he didn't have enough information to even try to make an educated guess. He bit back a snort as he thought about what his younger self would have done: charge in recklessly and ask questions later. It had been a long time since he'd done that, but it was a good memory. It reminded him of a time when he'd been innocent and so carefree.

But not anymore. Especially now.

"Hayashi-san."

He looked up at Kakashi who was staring at him with a hint of impatience in the single eye. He waved a hand as if dispelling the other man's irritation at the abrupt stop.

"It's nothing, Hatake-san. I was just enjoying the atmosphere, I haven't been in many places as big as this." They continued walking, this time side-by-side, with Kakashi sneaking sidelong glances at him from time to time. He ignored the looks just as he ignored the ones from earlier in the morning. It was afternoon now, but he'd already acclimated to the suspicious and curious glances of the people around him. Kakashi's was no different and was promptly ignored.

As they approached the building he could see that it was in good condition, although it could have used a fresh coat of paint. The building must have been a deep red in color, but now it was a muted rust-brown, with flecks of paint chipped away to reveal the dark gray of the concrete wall. None of the apartments seemed occupied, save one, and he already knew who its sole inhabitant was.

"Prime real estate," he said, not moving from his position. The building was a simple and compact three-floor complex with five apartments for each floor and a stairwell that served as the main entrance for the top two floors. Kakashi gave him a set of keys to choose from and he seemingly chose one at random and set off towards what was to be his living quarters from now on.

He actually chose an apartment only a few doors away from his counterpart, situated right by the stairwell on the second floor. It wouldn't be too suspicious to live three doors away, but at least it should grant him some accessibility to his counterpart if he decided for them to meet and to make sure that no one strayed near the young boy's home too closely. If those strays ever leaked even the barest amount of malevolence towards his counterpart, why, he'd simply have to step in as a duty-bound ninja ought to.

He'd had plenty of experience rounding and cleaning up strays from the streets.

"Hmm," replied Kakashi. "Seems livable enough."

That it was. The apartment was fairly spacious to hold three rooms: a bathroom, a bedroom, and a dining room/kitchen. The kitchen/dining area had a table and chairs enough to accommodate four people with a refrigerator tucked in close to the kitchen counter and sink. The bedroom had a bed and a simple dresser. The bathroom had a toilet, a sink, and a shower area.

It was small, but more than enough.

He wiped his finger across the dresser's surface and inspected it for any dust. There was, but not too much. He'd need to clean it a bit and buy a few more things to make it a little more hospitable, but it would do for his purposes as a base of operations of some sort. He checked the position of the sun outside and decided that he still had time for a little shopping.

Menma tamped down on his annoyance as much as he could, setting down his purchases on the kitchen table. He'd been to the nearest shop to buy everything he needed to make his apartment seem more like a home, with Kakashi a silent and observant shadow. The man known as the Copycat Ninja simply barged into his apartment like he'd lived there all his life. He could understand that Kakashi was simply following his orders, but he needed the man to get out so that he could finally work on modifying his apartment a little more.

The slight irritation in his nose made him look towards where the other jounin had stalked off to, only to find that Kakashi had taken a seat on one of the chairs with a faint cloud of dust surrounding his slouched form like an aura. Kakashi seemed unperturbed by the dust and elected to watching him sort through his purchases.

Manma sighed. He knew that the one-eyed jounin was simply following his orders, to keep an eye on him, and he'd just have to deal with it for now. He considered it as a test of patience and endurance, two traits that ninja were known for. Ignoring the other presence in the room with him, he began to sort his purchases: for the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, and other necessities. Afterwards, he began to put them away, wiping dust off surfaces as he went.

After some time, he glanced at where the other jounin was and had to bite back a snort of laughter. At some point during the house cleaning, Kakashi had pulled out his favorite book and had begun to leaf through the pages with almost reverent care, his one eye scanning the words with an apparent delight in all things ecchi. Some things never change.

Satisfied that his apartment was more or less as dust-free as he could make it, he took a seat opposite of Kakashi and pulled out his ink set with the sumi and suzuri along with a kunai. He pricked his finger with the sharp end of the weapon and began squeezing a drop of blood into the suzuri. After, he poured a touch of water and began grinding the sumi into the wet surface of the suzuri.

The quiet, sure sounds of wood scraping against stone drew Kakashi's attention from the perverted book towards him. He ignored the look, just as he ignored the man's presence altogether, and continued.

"What are you doing?" asked Kakashi, breaking the silence between the two of them as his own curiosity got the better of him at last.

"Making ink," Menma replied, carefully using the sumi to scrape the ink towards the well of the suzuri and adding another touch of water and blood.

"Couldn't you have just bought the ink instead of making it yourself?"

Menma shook his head. "I sometimes do, but I prefer making my own." He didn't comment that making his ink the traditional way allowed him to imbue the substance with his own chakra, which made the ink far more resilient and potent. Blood-infused ink was stronger than any commercially bought ink, far more powerful and dangerous, and the applications were more varied. Back in his time Menma used his special type of ink for a variety of uses, but most of all for inscribing seals meant for securing an area.

In some cases, securing an enemy.

"It's soothing," said Kakashi, eye not leaving the hypnotizing motion of the sumi moving back and forth across the surface of the suzuri. In the quiet of the apartment, away from the din of the village, the scraping sound was almost a lullaby lulling him to sleep. It was a kind of peaceful sound, amplified by the absence of all other sound around them.

"It is," agreed Menma, "It helps me think, sometimes. Kami-sama knows how many times I've had to do this just to keep me from doing something reckless." His eyes, unseen by Kakashi from underneath his cloak, glazed over at remembering the many mistake he'd almost done by being brash and reckless. If it wasn't for his master forcing him to sit down and and make ink, he didn't know if he'd have survived to actually jump through time to today in the past.

He thought back to his master, wondering just where that perverted old coot was at this point in the past. Jiraiya had been kind to him, kinder than most, and taught him what he knew of the fundamentals of fuuinjutsu that had helped him on so many occassions. Which brought up the question: exactly what time was he in?

"Hatake-san," he said, not looking up from grinding his ink, "How long has Hokage-sama held that title?"

Kakashi blinked at him, processing the question, and shrugged. "He's been Hokage for as long as I can remember," he replied, "He's the Sandaime, but there was a time when he had a successor, a Yondaime."

"What happened?"

At the quiet question, Kakashi's eyes glazed over as if he was immersed in a distant memory. "He died. Almost 12 years ago now."

Ah, that confirms it, Menma thought. His counterpart was twelve years old now, or soon will be, and would be trying to pass the Academy exam to become a genin. Internally, he sighed at the little time he would have should he decide to meet his counterpart and impart some words of wisdom to the boy. He had hoped that he'd arrived earlier, perhaps a year or two before now, in order to gradually meet the boy and try to become a... friend, of some sort. But with the shortened time-frame before the genin exam, he didn't know if he could manage to befriend the boy without attracting the attention of the Hokage. Some drastic measures would need to be taken to ensure that they meet soon.

He noted the faraway look on Kakashi's face and decided that maybe he should bring the man's attention back to the present. Lingering on the past was never a good idea if one wanted to move on, although he probably wasn't one to talk since he actually jumped through time to do something about the past. He was aware, even back then, that Kakashi had been a student of his father's and had grown to respect and admire the man, but he knew that the soon-to-be jounin sensei needed to bring his focus back to the present to be any kind of use for the village and the future.

He paused in his grinding, inspecting the ink that had pooled in the well of the suzuri and judged it fit for his purposes, before he took off the cloak that obscured his features from everyone, Kakashi included. He draped the cloak over the chair he'd just vacated and took a set of brushes along with the suzuri, moving towards his apartment door.

He paused for a few moments, mentally sketching out the design he wanted, nodded, and got to work.

"Were you close? With the Yondaime Hokage, I mean," said Menma, gently applying the brush against the wooden surface of the door. He received a grunt in response. He took it as an affirmative.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he continued, strokes never breaking rhythm, "you must have been really close." He didn't care if he was being improper, but he needed to make sure that Kakashi understood a very important lesson that the man had taught him when Menma was younger. He would have broken it to the man as gently as possible, but he didn't really have much time to do so and he didn't think he had the patience any more for it either.

"But I remember my master telling me that the dead don't really die, at least not completely, because they live on in the lives they touched, in the memories of the living that they left behind," finishing a circle of characters that made up the base of the seal Menma turned to look at Kakashi, gauging his reaction. None so far.

"I never really understood it before, because I was just a kid and my master thought he was a sage of wisdom or something, but I think that he meant that the living who knew the deeds and actions of the dead were lucky because they got to know them before they died."

At that, Menma saw Kakashi flinch ever so slightly. "It's the memories that the living and the dead share that makes whoever died live on, at least in the minds of those left behind."

Then he turned around to his work and continued, "For the lucky ones, they would have shared a great deal of many memories, but then there are the not-so-lucky ones who never even know what happened at all."

He was hinting at his counterpart rather heavily, but he felt that Kakashi needed to realize that he was lucky to have remember the Yondaime at all, while Menma could remember nothing, having grown up alone and without parents to take care of him. A pang of bitterness in his heart reminded Menma that although Kakashi had been his father's student, the man had never even made his presence known to him before they met that fateful day in the academy. Kakashi had been too busy wallowing in his self-pity to realize that there was a little boy who didn't have the pleasure of having a memory of his father, or someone even close to becoming one. The Sandaime had been there, for fleeting moments, but until Menma had become a genin, Kakashi had been a no-show in his childhood.

Forcing the bitterness away from his heart, Menma continued drawing the seal as if nothing happened. He could feel in the background Kakashi turning away from him, either from shame or anger he didn't really know. He just hoped that Kakashi would be... kinder to his counterpart this time around. It was too late for Kakashi to be any kind of father-figure to his counterpart at this point in time, but maybe he could be something of a brother if pushed in that direction earlier. Menma knew that Kakashi had realized this on his own and had tried his hardest to make up for all that lost time, but that had been years down the road. If he could push Kakashi to even remember his counterpart, then it'd be an early start well worth hurting the other man's feelings.

"Your master," said Kakashi into the silence in the apartment, voice heavy with emotion, "was very wise. He must have been a sage."

Menma smiled, eyes fixed on the seal that was slowly growing in size under his masterful brush strokes.

"He was."

The next few moments passed in contemplative silence, each man lost in his own thoughts, both reliving some nostalgic distant memories that only they were privy to. The seal on the door was finished, a circular web of lines and characters that sprawled from the center to each of the four corners. Menma inspected the completed seal with a critical eye and nodded in satisfaction, he wouldn't need to redo any part of it.

The seal was a sophisticated barrier that allowed for maximum privacy and security. With a constant pulse of chakra running through the characters, the seal made the door near-impervious to attack and would only allow inside the people whose names and blood had been coded into its framework. It was a seal that had been designed by Menma, as a necessary precaution against his enemies.

He turned to the window, open and letting a slight breeze inside the apartment, and began to write the same seal on the space around it. He would do this for the floor, the ceiling, and every available wall. It would be timing consuming, Menma knew, but with Kakashi here in the same room he couldn't use the Kage Bunshin technique to expedite the process. Someone not from Konoha using a kinjutsu developed by the Niidaime Hokage? The questions that that would raise ran through his head and he was already getting a headache.

But covering the entire apartment in his protective seal would take a long time, time he didn't really have, and he couldn't simply leave an unfinished seal array. It would leave too many weaknesses and there would be people he didn't like listening in, well, listening in. In the periphery of his mind was the idle thought that Konoha was its own host of enemies, but they were unimportant for now, at least until he could sort out his priorities with regards to the future.

And before he could do that, he needed to finish his seal-making so that his apartment was safe and secure. Short of booting Kakashi out, he had no options open to him. He was stuck.

Finishing the seal on the window for the kitchen/dining room, he turned to Kakashi, who was staring into space, lost in his own little world of 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. He didn't know if the one-eyed man was simply thinking so deeply it seemed like he was daydreaming, or if the man really was daydreaming. He cleared his throat, a few paces from behind, which jolted Kakashi back into alertness in an instant.

Having Kakashi's attention, Menma gestured to the seal drying on his door. "I need a... favor." He placed a brush and a small ink jar in front of the man. "Do you think you can copy that seal? I realize it's going to take me a long time to complete the seal array on my own and I don't think I have that kind of time."

Kakashi looked at him dubiously, then nodded, taking the brush and ink with practiced ease. "I can help you out, but you need to answer a couple of questions of mine."

Menma was instantly weary, carefully running in his mind the different things the other man would ask him. He maintained his semi-relaxed posture, but a little coldness seeped into his features, his eyes most notably.

With the expertise of years of doing it to other people, Kakashi seemed to ignore the slight change in atmosphere. "What do you mean by seal array?"

He thought for a moment, thinking how to respond. "Seal arrays are complex constructs made from smaller, simpler seals. There is an endless permutation of arrays that you can create, depending on the formula that you use." There, as quick and painless an explanation he could manage, without all the technical jargon that usually accompanied fuuinjutsu.

"Okay, I understand. I can help you out, Hayashi-san, but I'll need to cheat."

Menma looked at Kakashi, pretending to not know about what he was talking about. "We're ninja, Hatake-san. We're supposed to cheat."

Kakashi slowly lifted his hitai-ate and fixed it on his forehead properly, the eye underneath the fabric still closed. "I was talking about my eye."

Menma nodded, in mock-understanding, as if he was only realizing what Kakashi had meant even though he already knew, "Of course, Sharingan Kakashi, please go ahead."

Kakashi turned to the door and opened his eye, the ever-active sharingan instantly focusing and committing to memory every detail of the seal. "I've got it. Where do I begin?"

Both men worked on drawing seals all over Menma's apartment and a comfortable silence settled over them, blanketing their minds with a kind of calm ninja seldom ever experienced when working with a stranger whose abilities and intentions were a mystery.

For Kakashi, it was a strange kind of feeling. Ever since that morning in the Hokage Tower, he'd been guarded around Menma, carefully scrutinizing his words and actions, trying to find some indication that the newest addition to Konoha's ninja forces was up to something nefarious. So far, he'd seen no sign of any malevolence, but it wasn't a comfort. It was more of a disturbing realization that Menma was an expert at hiding his emotions.

Menma seemed oddly comfortable with the new arrangements, although there was that moment before they'd arrived at the apartment complex, but had bounced back to some semblance of normalcy. He'd been surprisingly open about what he'd revealed to Kakashi so far, even parting with some wise words he'd heard from his late master. Kakashi didn't know what to think of it, except to feel something resonate from somewhere in his chest to the words.

There was a pang, an all-too-familiar pain of bitter regret that shook his core. Over the course of a decade he'd learned how to manage his regrets, his bitterness, and it had taken conscious effort on his part to actually bring about some positive changes to his attitude and outlook in life. He had help, grudgingly, from some of his comrades and people he would call friends. It had been a struggle, living with the ghosts, but he'd overcome a part of it and was a better person for it.

He wasn't the same standoffish shinobi bent on following the rules at the cost of a comrade, but he was better now, stronger, and he was buoyed by the belief of his fellows and his village that he was an excellent ninja. He'd made it his personal creed to emulate his deceased teammate Uchiha Obito as was possible, as a kind of living monument to the most important lesson he'd ever learned. He also visited the graves of those he'd lost, frequently, and quietly regaled them with his latest misadventures or the challenges he'd had to contend with when issued by his self-proclaimed eternal rival Maito Gai.

But then, this pang of regret was somewhat worse, more painful, more gut-wrenching. The other one, the feeling of utter loss at the death of his team and subsequent comrades while in ANBU, his father, his teacher and his teacher's wife, he could deal with; had been dealing with for almost all his life. But this feeling, the one he felt now, was nowhere near as potent as that first plunge into despair, because the first one had been caused by a combination of his own helplessness and weakness, his refusal to see the importance of teamwork, and the adamant refusal of the willing kindness of others. This new one, this new pang of pain and remorse, was caused by his own self-absorbed wallowing in pity.

He'd failed to realize that he wasn't the first to experience suffering nor would he be the last. So focused was he in his self delusion that he hadn't taken into consideration the others who were as affected as he was, some even more so.

His thoughts drifted to a little boy who had his father's looks, but his mother's personality. The boy who had been saddled with a responsibility and a duty before he could even understand the world around him, scorned by the people he was unknowingly protecting from further destruction, treated as a pariah, ignored and belittled, but always had a smile, who persevered in the face of adversity. Uzumaki Naruto, whose lineage was kept secret, for his sake, for the village's sake, who never knew the loving touch of a parent, or the unconditional love of a mother and father. His sacrifice was already above and beyond anyone's in the village, but it wasn't enough, never enough.

Kakashi ruefully shook his head. How could he have allowed that boy to grow up without anyone? Despite his own miserable losses, at least he had learned of love, friendship, the utter trust of someone he admired, and the judgment of someone whose opinions mattered to him; but what about Naruto? Who did he have to look up to? Who loved him, embraced him, and showed him the warmth of someone who cared?

Miserable and torturous his life had been, Kakashi at least had the memories of a good life to appreciate what he'd had and lost, but Naruto had none and his life was even worse.

He shuddered thinking about what Minato-sensei and his teammates would say to him. What would Kushina-san? Had he not been trusted, as Minato-sensei's student, to be there for the son they never saw grow up? Shouldn't he have been there in their stead, as a grateful student, to help raise Naruto into the ninja his parents were? To impart the lessons they'd taught him and could never teach to their son?

Then a singular thought, devastating and awe-inspiring in its ability to call forth waves of remorse, sprang into the forefront of his mind. I should have been there.

But he hadn't been, because where was he? Wallowing in self-pity. He cringed, realizing that he hadn't really changed at all, he'd simply focused on himself and ignored all others. He had opened up, but only to create the illusion that he was doing so, never really going out of his way to reach out to the only one left of his precious memories of his sensei, his team, and Kushina-san.

He hung his head in shame, clenching his fist around the brush he was holding. The seal he was working on, on a corner of the main room, was left uncompleted. Was it too late to make his presence known to the boy? Would the boy be happy or resentful? If the latter, would the boy still allow him into his life, as his sensei surely would have wanted since the beginning?

Menma must have noticed his inactivity by the corner and carefully touched his shoulder.

"It's okay, Hatake-san," he said quietly, his voice barely carrying over the stillness of the room. "Whatever it is you're thinking, it's going to be okay."

He turned to the man with the mismatched eyes and wondered if he'd allowed his emotions to leak from his mental barriers. Menma's eyes were filled with a kind of heaviness that dwarfed his own and he couldn't help but wonder what this man had gone through to get such a powerful look in such a guarded glance. That morning in the Hokage Tower, he'd been guarded around the black-haired man, but for the first time in his life Kakashi felt the inexplicable need to let it all out, to bare his heart to this stranger. Menma might have been dangerous, but the calming and assured aura around him banished all thoughts of suspicion.

He sat back on his haunches and breathed deeply. He wasn't sure if it was a jutsu, this feeling of calm, but he couldn't even move very far away from his position if it was. He was trapped, by his thoughts and by this feeling, and he couldn't help that he somehow needed to talk to this man. A feeling of assurance seemed to surge into him, coming from Menma's hand on his shoulder, and he decided to let it out, to speak about his fears, his realizations, his hopes, and dreams to a complete stranger who had only gotten to Konoha just a few hours ago and was being regarded with heavy suspicion by everyone.

No one trusted Menma, but in that singular moment, through that one touch, Kakashi did. He didn't care about the other man's reasons or intentions, he just knew that Menma was a person who would gladly lend him an ear and spare him the judgment he knew others would readily give.

It was an eerie feeling, this complete trust in the unknown, but in Menma's presence it seemed to be justified.

So he talked. He continued talking in a haunted voice, for once his illusion crumbling in the face of all his fears.

And Menma listened. There was no pity, no judgment, nothing in the man's eyes. But there was one thing, something that made Kakashi believe that Menma was someone who could be trusted without doubt, someone who could be relied upon to protect the village and its people, someone who would shoulder the burden of the world upon his shoulders if it meant keeping the harshness of life away:

He understood.

And then all the heaviness Kakashi felt simply vanished, dissipating into the air like dust in the breeze. He finished the seal that lay incomplete before him on the corner of the room, silently grateful that Menma hadn't said a word in response but seemed to have communicated his understanding nonetheless, by merely being there.

Kakashi didn't know how to explain it, slightly embarrassed by the near-breakdown of an episode. He'd only just met the man and was already considering him a... a what?

A friend. A true friend, the first one he'd had ever since Obito's death.

Gai, he was a rival, who provided him with distractions throughout his otherwise dull life. Asuma, Genma, Raidou, the other jounin, they were comrades, ready to offer him their support in missions. But Menma? Kakashi knew then, Menma was a friend.

And hopefully, Naruto would be, too.

Determined and filled with an invigorating sense of purpose, Kakashi swore to himself that he would make an effort, make the change, and reach out to Naruto, his sensei's legacy, and to the others around him. It was the least he could do in penance for his own neglect.

And he'd help Menma, too, along the way, try to lift the heaviness in the man's heart and eyes just as he had for Kakashi through that one touch.

But that was all for tomorrow though, because today he needed to finish this seal and get the rest of Menma's apartment safe and secure. But tomorrow...

Tomorrow would be a new day, a new day in the life of a Hatake Kakashi reborn.

Menma woke up early the next day hating himself for what had transpired the day before. He'd intended for the man to realize his mistakes sooner rather than later, but Kakashi's near-mental-breakdown had been extremely worrying.

His response had been worse. Sure, he'd nudged Kakashi into those realizations rather forcefully, but the breakdown had made him act without thinking. He had reached out, touched the man's shoulder, and sent a wave of assurance and peace that he himself did not feel and somehow Kakashi had bared his soul at that single touch. The man must have thought he was a friend now. Shit.

That had not been his intention at all. He hadn't meant to become a friend to Kakashi, because for all the similarities he might have with the Kakashi he'd known in the past now turned future, he was the same person after all, Menma felt that this version of his friend and mentor was a complete stranger. He did not know Menma, and although he knew him very well, Menma did not know Kakashi. That had been his promise, to himself, to his friends, to the world. But he'd gone and broken that promise like it had never existed and had reassured Kakashi, in not so many words, that it was going to be okay.

He hated himself, completely, utterly, and with the utmost conviction. Never again, he thought to himself, I'll keep my distance. These people aren't my friends and they never will be. He repeated it to himself, over and over, until he could feel his resolve harden like steel tempered in fire. He had made a mistake yesterday, but never again. Kakashi would be the only one to witness his moment of weakness, his mistake, his broken promise, and he would be the last.

Getting up from the bed was a challenge, the stresses of yesterday still aching, but he felt a small measure of security when he looked around his home. The seals were almost completely faded by now, actively blending in with the colors and the materials they were painted on, but their reassuring warmth filled him to his core. His apartment, in the course of a few hours, had become the most secure place in the entire village, except for the Hokage Tower, but that was debatable.

He heard the slightest knock on his door and a flare of chakra resonated with his. The door had absorbed a minuscule amount of chakra from the unexpected visitor and sent it back to him, so he could try to identify who it was outside his home. It was familiar, like a distant acquaintance would, but slightly stronger. Genma? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't think of anyone else who would come to visit him at such an early hour with that kind of chakra signature: familiar, yet not, but was enough to identify as belonging to someone he'd interacted with in the few hours he'd arrived in this time.

He pulled on a shirt before opening the door. A slight sliver of predawn light entered from the opening and he could see Genma's silhouette against it. The man seemed cheerful enough, oddly, at this hour and didn't seem to mind the cautious way Menma had just greeted him.

"Good morning, Hayashi-san," said Genma. "Mind if we came in?" Menma raised an eyebrow at the statement. We? Who was we?

And then Raidou appeared beside Genma, appearing a lot less put together than the other man. His mumbling could have been a greeting or a complaint, Menma wasn't sure. He opened the door wider and allowed them through. Both men entered and sat themselves on chairs around his kitchen table, Genma propping his elbow on the back rest of his chair while Raidou seemed to slump forward, not quite dozing, but not quite awake yet either.

Wordlessly, Menma put water to boil and offered them tea in the cups he'd purchased only yesterday. He sat with them, waiting for the water, and wondered what had brought them to his apartment so early in the morning. Was this the Hokage's way of summoning him to the tower? Or were these two here on a personal matter?

Within moments the water was ready and he poured enough for the three of them. Raidou accepted the tea graciously and took slow sips, allowing the brew to warm and wake him up completely.

Menma turned to Genma, correctly guessing that whatever they were here for, Raidou would not be much help in answering his questions.

Genma took a sip of his tea and smiled. "Neat place you got here, Hayashi-san. Been redecorating until late last night?"

"Not exactly. I was practicing my fuuinjutsu. Hatake-san helped me." Confused and a little weary, Menma's eyes darted from Genma to Raidou and back again. He wondered if there was a point to this visit and if they were going to get to it any time soon. He was a morning person, but he hadn't had patience for early morning small talk in years now.

"Mmm, that's good to hear! You guys friends already?"

Kakashi thinks so. "Not really."

Genma looked disappointed at hearing this, but recovered quickly. "Well, get dressed, Hayashi-san! It's time for us to go on a little outing and you're coming with."

Menma nodded and rose from his position from the chair. "Is it a mission?"

"Not exactly, but we've been tasked to continue the investigation from yesterday. The other teams just got back and I was told to assemble my own team, so here we are!" He nudged Raidou in the ribs, who simply swatted the hand away and grumbled about insufferable roommates who couldn't let a guy sleep. "So get yourself ready, because we're expected to move in a couple of minutes."

"Why would you choose me? I just got here."

"Exactly! And because they said you came to the site yesterday, so you might have a clue where to start, yeah?" Then Genma gave him a calculating look that he was loathe to admit sent a slight shiver down his spine. "Besides, I think you owe it to us to come with, you did beat the tar out of us yesterday."

Menma sighed, conceding defeat. "Fine, I'll be ready in five."

According to Genma, they had been tasked with continuing the investigation of the pulse of chakra from the day before, several kilometers away from the actual site because the other teams had gotten that far. Of course, what had been supposed to be a routine inspection and investigation had transformed into a nightmare that would have made chuunin sweat in fear.

But not jounin, never jounin, because they were the elite and were always expecting the worst to happen.

So it was little surprise to the three of them that yesterday's pulse had attracted a rather sizable number of nukenin from around the area. They weren't infringing on Konoha's territory, exactly, but they had come to make their own investigation. Curiosity was a trait that most ninja learned to cultivate, as it helped them find out certain things that they might have overlooked had they been a little less curious.

It was a trait that Menma was fervently cursing as of the moment.

He had been idly mulling over the irony that he'd been chosen to investigate the charka pulse when it was he who had been the cause for the erratic eruptions of chakra as he and his two teammates moved from point to point, searching for any tracks or traces of an apparently large enough creature to cause such a spike. He never really expected that the pulse had been strong enough to be felt by a few naturally-gifted sensor nukenin, never truly thought that it might have given them the impression of a truly awesome beast that might have earned them a large sum of money to the right buyer. He was cursing his lack of forethought, but as they said, hindsight was 20/20.

He sidestepped the vicious downward swing of a wicked-looking sickle by the Kusagakure nukenin he was facing. There were more somewhere around him, somewhere, but this particular kunoichi was vicious and very skilled with her weapon of choice. She stepped forward, allowing the momentum of her swing to bring her closer to him, and drove a long knife towards his gut. She launched herself at him, intending to use combined force of her weight and the push off the ground, her knife whizzing towards the tender spot of his stomach. With an open palm, he slapped the knife away before it could connect with his flesh and smashed his knee on her face. The impact broke her nose and blood spurted in the air. He drove an elbow to her head, putting in as much force as he could, but she had somehow planted her hands on the ground and flipped, kicking his arm away from ever landing.

Talking was useless in this situation. Earlier, Genma had elected to present himself to the group of nukenin and asked what they were doing in the area. Without provocation they had attacked. Menma and Raidou had then jumped into the foray, intending to take out their targets at once, but had failed to connect with any kind of fatality. Now they were separated, with either Genma or Raidou outnumbered.

She flipped again and while in mid-air threw shuriken at him, all of which he blocked. As she landed, she launched her self again, this time with the sickle aimed low, its curve blade facing upwards and to the side a bit. She was aiming for a diagonal slash, he could see, and her knife was twirled in an underhand grip. If her slash didn't connect, she would spin on her heels and drive the knife into the area between his neck and shoulders. He could see it, but couldn't help but admire the way she was moving.

As he'd guessed, she brought the sickle in an upwards slash that would have gutted him until the blade exited just above the right side of his chest if he hadn't move to block the weapon by kicking harshly at her hand. She wasn't expecting a block from such a low angle and her momentum was lost, but she attempted to spin on her heels anyway, desperate to drive the knife into him. He ducked low to avoid her strike and mustered as much force into his legs. He leaped and smashed his head into the underside of her chin.

Her head whipped back from the force and she staggered a few paces, dazed. Taking advantage of her momentary paralysis, he began forming hand seals, before he stopped short. He wasn't well-rested yet and he hadn't determined the extent of his current abilities, so would it be wise to try the jutsu he had in mind? He had intended to test his capacity in a controlled environment, not in actual combat. Frowning, he withdrew kunai for each hand and charged the kunoichi.

In the lull of the attack, the kunoichi had fully expected him to blast her away with a jutsu, but as he'd squandered it she had regained a semblance of sense and saw his rush towards her position. She scowled and stood firmly on the ground, readying the knife and sickle in her hands for a block and counterattack. When he was a pace away she raised her knife upwards, to deflect his right-side attack, while raising her sickle to intercept his escape to the left.

In a burst of speed he reappeared just under her sickle, to her right side, instead. He crossed his kunai-wielding arms and slashed at her side, blood blossoming on her clothes. He lashed out with a foot and swept her legs from under her, before wedging a kunai to the back of her knee. She screamed in pain, and in anger, and tried to push away from the ground, but he kicked the sickle away and gripped her knife hand with his own. He applied enough force to strain her wrist until she let go of her knife.

Without another word he drove his remaining kunai, in a forehand grip, into the underside of her chin with enough force to wedge the weapon through the roof of her mouth and into her brain. The kunoichi died instantly.

He looked around hurriedly, searching for either Genma or Raidou, until he felt a blast of wind coming from the east. He recalled that Raidou had gone there. Pausing only to remove the dead kunoichi's hitai-ate, he moved to the source of the blast as quickly as he could.

A few moments later he found Raidou leaning back against a tree, panting. The scarred jounin gave him a strained smile and said, "It's the second time this week that I've been blasted away like this. Damn fuuton users."

Menma spared his a slight smile, but focused his attention on the ninja standing on the newly made clearing. Judging by the nukenin's relative distance to Raidou's tree, he guessed that the jutsu was a middle-range technique. He turned to Raidou.

"Where's Shiranui-san? And the other nukenin?"

Raidou pointed with his chin southwards. "He's fighting the rest of them over there. I tried to go help, but this guy wouldn't let me leave." Their current position was north of Genma's whereabouts, and the senbon-chewing jounin was outnumbered? They had to move on quickly and provide assistance.

"Alright, I'll distract him, you go around and take him from behind," said Menma. He moved away from the tree Raidou was leaning against and immediately caught the nukenin's attention by showing the hitai-ate he'd taken from the kunoichi earlier. The nukenin slapped his hands together and shouted in a mad rage.

"Fuuton: Daitoppa!"

Menma planted his feet to the ground with as much chakra as he could manage and braced himself. The blast of wind wasn't as powerful as he could have managed, but it was definitely enough to blast away someone unfortunate enough to be caught. But at this distance, at the very edge of the clearing, the jutsu was only half as strong. He pondered what this could mean, but shoved the introspection for later. Raidou appeared in a swirl of leaves behind the nukenin and promptly stabbed the man with his obsidian-black blade, twisting it and pulling it upwards through guts and bone. The blade exited the nukenin's flesh in a spray of blood, before Raidou swung the sword towards the neck. The head toppled from the rest of the body, fountains of blood spurting into the air.

"That was surprisingly easy," said Raidou, looking around, perhaps searching for any trace of traps or treachery. He found none.

Raidou picked up the newly decapitated nukenin's hitai-ate and then rushed southward, Menma following closely.

They stumbled upon a corpse riddled with senbon and kunai, definitely Genma's work, but up ahead they saw that Genma was locked in a kunai-shoving contest with a heavy-set shinobi with the last member of the nukenin group was nowhere to be found. Genma was straining with all his might to shove the heavier ninja's kunai with his own, but was slowly losing ground.

Menma and Raidou exchanged a glance before darting to positions. Raidou, brandishing his sword, rushed forward intent on slashing the nukenin's exposed back. Menma jumped to the trees on the lookout for the final nukenin.

A howl of pain drew his attention towards his two teammates and he saw that Raidou had slashed the man starting from the left shoulder to the right hip. The nukenin tried to turn or jump in outrage, but Genma drove a kunai across his jugular. Enraged and losing blood quickly, the nukenin tried to form hand seals, a suicide jutsu in mind, but Raidou simply swung his sword downward and the man's left hand came off in a splash of blood. Genma finished him off by driving a kunai to the man's neck, severing his spine.

And then Menma saw movement a few meters away from the victorious jounin. The final nukenin must have lain in wait for an opening to strike at Genma, but as soon as he saw Raidou appear decided to escape instead. The nukenin wasn't being very subtle, with all the rustling in the bushes giving him away, and it would only be a matter of time before either Genma or Raidou noticed. In a burst of speed, Menma leaped from tree branch to tree branch until he was just above the nukenin's position and dropped down.

As he landed he delivered a chop to where he imagined the nukenin's head would be and felt the satisfying impact of his hand against someone's skull. There was a grunt of pain and Menma pulled the nukenin out of the bushes by the hair towards Genma and Raidou.

"Why did you attack us?" he asked, dropping the nukenin on the ground.

The man didn't answer, still too dazed by the chop to the head to properly form a response. He tried to sit up, but Menma planted his foot on his chest, pinning him on the ground. He sluggishly tried to paw off the leg on his chest, but Menma stepped harder and he groaned at the building pressure. It felt like his chest was caving in.

"Why did you attack us?" Menma asked again, this time lifting his leg from the nukenin's chest and stomping viciously at his fingers. Genma and Raidou looked on with carefully blank faces.

"I w-won't," the man said, haltingly. "Tell y-you anything."

With a snarl Menma picked up the nukenin by the front of his clothes and hoisted him up, his feet uselessly dangling beneath him. The fight hadn't been difficult, not by any stretch of imagination, but his demeanor had been taken over by the ruthless persona that he'd adopted in a time of war and great suspicion. He could feel his cold visage become colder and he stayed his hand from wringing the nukenin's neck with the knowledge that the two jounin just behind him would be adequately startled by the violent behavior. He had been calm throughout the battle, level-headed, and to display the kind of violence he wanted to visit on this nukenin's head would only arouse their suspicion.

"My team approached you peacefully, yet you attacked. Tell me why." His voice was a bare whisper, still audible to Genma and Raidou, but carried hints of barely-contained anger. He clenched the man's clothes all the more tightly, to keep him from lashing out and devastating the nukenin into an indistinguishable mess on the ground. He'd had plenty of experience dealing with enemy ninja, but with plenty more dealing with the aftermath.

The nukenin seemed to regain some form of sense and knew that there was no escaping three ninja who had all but obliterated his companions. "There was a huge battle just yesterday," he said, surprisingly coherent even as he dangled from Menma's grip.

"We wanted to salvage anything left useful. Thought he," he struggled to look at Genma as he ineffectualy gripped Menma's hands, "was too weak to fight all five of us."

Genma snorted. "Yeah, look how well that turned out."

"What do we do with him?" asked Raidou.

Without even pausing for a moment, Menma drove an elbow to the side of the nukenin's face before dropping him to the ground. He pulled out a kunai and handily twirled it in his fingers before driving the sharp edge into the man's throat. He twisted the blade left and right, slicing open blood vessels, before he pulled it out. As the nukenin gurgled his last few breath, Menma took off the scratched-out hitai-ate and silently handed it to Raidou.

He gazed impassively at the slowly dying man on the ground and spoke with a voice of authority, everyone in the area who heard knew that what came next were words of finality and that there would be no disagreeing.

"Without reason or provocation your company has attacked shinobi of Konoha with intent to kill or capture. As you are without the protection of your hidden village, you are hereby tried and sentenced as a common criminal with the highest penalty: death. Drown in your blood, nukenin."

Menma turned wordlessly and began to trek back to Konoha, never looking back.

Genma looked down at the man and glanced at Raidou before they started walking after their teammate. He couldn't help but feel a little impressed and a little shocked. Menma had moved so quickly, spoke so confidently, that there was simply no room to argue or discuss another point. He wondered if it had been under different circumstances, would Menma have been so quick to action and execute a defeated enemy? Knowing the fate of enemies captured and sent to the T&I division, he knew that what Menma had done had been a small mercy. A painfully slow mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

"Remind me not to get on his bad side," he said to Raidou, careful to not let Menma hear.

"Me too, Genma," replied Raidou, casting one last pitying look at the drowning nukening they were quickly leaving behind. The man was weakly trying to cover the gaping wound with his hands and failing.

"Me too."

"You've had an eventful first day, Hayashi-san," said Hiruzen, placidly looking the scroll that Genma's team had delivered to his desk the moment they'd arrived.

"To be honest, Hokage-sama, I wasn't expecting any kind of excitement for months," replied Menma, face set in stone by the sheer impassiveness of his expression. "I guess bad luck follows me wherever I go."

"Hmm," Hiruzen gave the new jounin an even smile, not quite friendly but not quite cold either. "It's perfectly alright. There is always that one mission that goes wrong in a ninja's life."

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"How are you enjoying your accommodations so far?"

"It beats sleeping on the ground, sir. And moving all the time."

"Have you had any unfortunate... encounters with some of our villagers?"

Menma looked confused by the question, as if he didn't understand Hiruzen meant, but in the blink of an eye the impassive expression returned full force. What did that mean? Had Menma actually encountered Naruto during his brief stay in that building so far? It would have been interesting to find out what his reaction would have been to being subjected to the little boy's infamous pranks, but without knowing of Naruto's special... circumstance. Would he take it with great offence and chase after the boy, promising retribution of the most painful kind (spoken in jest, of course, lest they want the Hokage's wrath on their heads). Or would he react differently? He'd just have to wait and see, he supposed.

"None, Hokage-sama. The villagers have been very polite, so far."

"That's good to hear. That's all for now, Hayashi-san. I expect great things from you in the future."

Menma gazed at Hiruzen that he could only explain was the gaze of someone with complete faith in himself, the kind that only a self-assured professional could ever have, who was confident in his skills and ability. The look of a powerful individual. A dangerous individual.

"Of course, sir, I won't disappoint."

And Hiruzen believed it, took the words for what it was: a promise.

"And I never go back on my word."

A/N:
Whew. That was a long Chapter 02. Anyway, thank you so much for reading a Stranger in Black. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I agonized over it, I certainly had a hard time overcoming the dreaded Writer's Block that didn't want me to write the chapter as I wanted it. If you have any comments or suggestions, or even corrections, feel free to leave me a review. To the wonderful people who reviewed the first chapter, thank you! Your comments were helpful in motivating me to write another chapter and for fixing the glaring weaknesses of Chapter 01. Special thanks goes to Seta88 for his constructive input.

Terms:
Sumi - ink stick
Suzuri - ink stone
Nukenin - missing ninja
Kekkei Genkai - bloodline limit
Fuuinjutsu - sealing technique

PS. To those who read the first version of Chapter 01, you might want to revisit Menma's test. I overhauled that entire scene and the others succeeding it because I felt that they were very weak. Also, add "I'm no stranger..." to your review and you get a surprise.