Discalimer: I don't own Naruto, the Uchiha, Hanako or Pinwheel Madness. Those last two belong to Loeka and I am penniless.

"speaking English"

Of Language

Uchiha Fugaku was a man who had lived through one war and was now fighting a second one. He was the head of his clan, the head of the police force and a seasoned Jounin who was listed in the bingo books as Fire-Shuriken Fugaku or Fugaku of the Terrible Eyes, depending which village the bingo book was from. He had spilled blood in the name of his village and for the sake of his clan and he knew that as long as it were necessary that he would carry out that duty. He worked alongside Yamanaka Inoichi and Morino Ibiki when tasked to deal with infiltrators; they were more often the last line of defense, than the first. Their job was to win the war from the home front instead of on the turf of their enemies.

It was a very important job because their world was shaped by misinformation, misdirection, lying and subterfuge; whoever had the most information – correct information – had the most power. Making a lie seem like the truth came as easy as breathing to most seasoned ninja and even the occasional civilian because even they knew that it was a survival trait. The thing about information was that even the most trivial or menial detail could be the most important detail, be the key to cracking the secret. It was for this reason that in this business you had to know how to navigate language, whether this was spoken, physical, or even cipher. So, he knew how to read people, knew when they were lying; if it wasn't their voice it was their body that would betray them. The Sharingan only helped him see those telling signs even faster.

On the battle field violence was a language; in a torture room it was a tool that would let a person speak the language of pain loud and clear. It was the most primal one; everyone understood it and spoke it, even the mute and deaf. He was more than familiar with it: from the strangled gurgle as a man chokes on his own blood to the horrific screams of a man who has each and every one of his tenketsu blasted into uselessness, all the way up to the eighth gate. To that man's credit he never spilled the beans, eventually biting off his own tongue, but then extracting information hadn't exactly been the point – he'd been an example. A good example as it turned out; the others talked, and gave useful information.

Emotions were also a language, if a very volatile and dangerous one. The Uchiha Clan knew that better than most. He could with clarity recall the unholy screams of rage he had released as his younger brother was cut down and the sounds of his mother's wails when they buried him. 30 years he was into his life, a recent father, and he had thought that he had heard the full extent of the sounds that the human vocal chords could produce. He was wrong. Never would he have thought that they were capable of making these sounds until his three year old daughter started to make them.

At first he had thought it be gibberish, and had humorlessly dismissed it, but when one day he found both his lovely children having a conversation in this strange and foreign tongue he started paying attention to it. He had thought it to be just a code, a childish but clever attempt to keep secrets from him and Mikoto, and he encouraged this behavior by making a game out of it, but the more he listened the more he gleaned that is was so much more than that; it was a proper language! As far as he could tell it had grammar, syntax and everything and his three year old daughter – the same daughter who almost instinctively refused to use correct grammar and Keigo - was inventing it from the get go just to win the game.

The twins had at first had trouble with the pronunciation especially Itachi, his tongue and mouth not used to having to bend into these new shapes in order to get out the foreign sounds, but once he understood he cottoned on fast like he did with everything else. Hanako who had invented these sounds - ever the musical one, he could see on his eyelids how as a baby she had sung her distressed brother to sleep – had also stumbled but eventually found what she wanted.

One evening his wife, glowing with pride, came into his office and showed him a paper upon which were written 26 small uncomplicated characters, the writing clearly Hanako's, and explained how their little girl had created a cipher. She explained how their children had tried to be discreet, and they both chuckled how utterly adorable that was. She'd overheard that each one represented a certain sound, kind of like Katakana except shorter and simpler. Hanako had apparently even made a melody as to remember the order in which the sounds went, Mikoto repeating it flawlessly.

"A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i , j, k, l, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z that's the alphabet!"

"So, esteemed wife of mine, do you know what that last word means?"

"No, my venerable husband, I do not. You have to admit, though, she might sing a bit off key – I don't care what Itachi says - but this certainly has a rhythm to it."

He nodded. "That it does. Now, what shall we do about this development, shall we crack the code or shall we let them have this?"

Her eyes shined with mirth, and he was reminded that he had married Uzumaki Kushina's accomplice. "Let us do both. Let our darling children believe they have won this game of ours, let them believe they can keep secrets from us. I rather wonder what on earth those would be at any rate."

His lips twitched; he was of the exact same mind. "Very well, that is the course of action we will undertake, after all it is our duty as parents to understand our children."

She nodded, "That it is indeed, besides it would be rather embarrassing if we couldn't beat something our three year old made."

It would be, though he would probably die of pride right before he'd die of shame. "Well then beloved wife, let us get to work."

It took them two days, but eventually they knew for certain that the characters didn't have any meanings on their own except for the sound they represented. From there it was really just putting together the pieces they heard throughout the weeks. The combinations of the "alphabet", as it was called, were many and the pronunciation was at times odd, adding an edge to seemingly simple patterns. It had thrown them for a bit of loop, and sometimes it still did. It was a good defense mechanism. They didn't know it to the extent that the twins did, but they could now understand most of the conversations when they were curious enough to listen in and that was good enough, because the twins were still learning and creating more words every day.

He gave his toddlers a hint that he and Mikoto were on to them by saying that the two of them should learn to lip read, a silent conversation a lot harder to follow than one with sound. Hanako looked up at him like he was a wise elder and he had given her much insight indeed. He savored the moment.

The lip reading, he knew, would take a while. It was no easy task especially for three year olds, and it would give him and Mikoto ample time to complete their understanding of the language that their daughter had created. The pride that filled him every time that thought occurred to him was staggering. He toyed with the idea of giving it the cryptology department, but he'd let Hanako take that glory when the time came if she ever wanted to part with it. He doubted it; it was after all her prized creation and would forever be a work progress because the girl still had to learn so many words in the language of the land before creating new ones for the language she and her brother shared.

His children were not aware of it, nor should they have been, but as of late the war was not going well: Iwa was pushing hard in the South, the dense forests that populated the area and the tenuous treaty they had with Grass the only reason Konaha could currently hold them at bay; Ame was being soaked in blood as well as rain, once again the battle ground for their own forces, those of Kumo as well as the local ones, and worst of all there was news of Mist Ninja having been seen past the border a few days ago. They'd barely been breaking even, already spread out thin as it was. If this news was true and the Bloodly Mist made as far inland as the Land of Waves, things would truly take a turn for the worst. That could not be allowed, this impass had to be cut off because otherwise the civilian populace would become aware of how dire the situation really was. His children would become aware of the War, and that was unacceptable.

It was thus no surprise that a few days later Fugaku received a mission scroll. He scowled as he read the missive; he would have to go out to the frontlines. He did not want to leave his family, not when it had been so good for the past few weeks, but his comrades needed him. His country needed him. So late at night too, but orders were orders and time was of the essence. He packed up his gear, kissed his wife goodbye and crept up to the twins' room. Silent as a shadow he entered the room and looked upon his children. They were in the same bed, hugging, as was a habit of theirs. It was adorable and a good last picture, because this is what he fought for; to keep their innoncence as long as possible.

He flickered away, but not before whispering, "I love you."

AN: A bit more insight into the war, what the parents think of English, and Fugaku's own brand of thought. Also, guys, 60 followers and 11 reviews in 12 days is insane! I mean that was just the first chapter, talk about unexpected! It certainly gives one drive to write, I tell you! Thank you all very much for the support, it is hella appreciated! I hope you guys enjoyed this one just as much as you did the first, I certainly enjoyed writing it, so let me know. Next up: Mikoto. Lets see what a mother thinks, shall we?

Keigo: The most formal way to speak in Japanese, used only when addressing someone of great importance, such as the Hokage, or a Clan Head. Uses very advanced vocabulary, grammar and is often longwinded.