A/N: [throws chapter into the wind like confetti] Be free~

- Chapter Seventeen -

A breeze swept by, ruffling my hair and sending goosebumps all across my skin. I pulled my blanket tighter around my shoulders and curled into myself. From my spot on the roof and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the first signs of daybreak on the horizon, painting the village in dull blue hues of the morning.

It had been three days. Three full days of unbearable waiting.

The palpable tension I had come to associate with the Uchiha district had spread to the rest of the village. There were fewer people on the streets during the day and even less walking about at night. Nervous glances over one's shoulder was a common occurrence.

But there was no outright fighting, so I decided to take the glass half-full approach.

Movement a few buildings over caught my eye. It was another squad, and I trailed their path as far as I could see, but otherwise remained still. Southeast deployment, again...

Once they were outside of my range of vision, I closed my eyes and focused. Beyond the dull cacophony of civilians and nearby crickets, I could hear dozens upon dozens of unique chakra signatures. There was so much bundled movement that the further I tried to sense, the more it resembled a hive. It was impossible to tell who was who but it was enough to confirm my suspicions: the ninja of the village were in a flurry of activity.

A nearby screech made me recoil and immediately stop channeling chakra to my ears. The sudden loud noise paired with my already heightened sense of paranoia sent my heart racing, and I whirled and chucked a kunai in the direction.

A dull thud followed by an indignified squawk met my ears, and a flustered blackbird all but fell out of the tree and fluttered away to safety.

Seriously…? I rested a hand against my chest and willed my heart to slow down. My other hand went to rub at my temples. There had to be a way to separate the sounds of chakra from the sounds of everything else. A filter of sorts—something to keep my ears from ringing like this.

I mentally marked it down as something to investigate later, because the bird was a sign that the rest of the village was waking up. I couldn't sit on top of my house for much longer. I straightened out, took a few seconds to stretch when my legs protested from the sudden action, then yawned and grabbed my blanket before ducking into my room.

"Did you sleep at all?" came the soft scolding as soon as I came through the window. My mom was propped against my door, already dressed for the day.

"A little," I admitted, shuffling to my wardrobe and trying not to fidget under the disapproving look on her face. "I haven't been able to sleep well lately."

She sighed, but otherwise remained quiet as I dressed.

A gnawing sense of guilt swarmed me as the silence dragged on. So many people other than her already knew about my ability, and I could only imagine her reaction when she found out. My gaze dropped to the floor as I pulled on my jacket. I couldn't open my mouth and face her disappointment.

I'll just… I'll tell her later.

She walked over as I finished dressing, and I shot her a questioning look in the mirror as she reached to fix my collar.

"War is coming," she said without preamble, resting her hands on my shoulders. I blinked and craned my neck to look at her over my shoulder. "I know you've noticed the atmosphere in the village and the increased activity. What you've been seeing is our forces mobilizing and preparing."

That was… direct. "Mom?" I prompted when she fell quiet. I turned to face her and was immediately pulled into a hug.

"Ideally you'll be far from the fighting, but I'm not optimistic enough to think that the worst is incapable of happening," she murmured into my hair, then pulled back and kneeled to eye-level. "Genin will likely be briefed today. Follow the orders you're given, but promise me one thing."

I nodded mutely, eyes wide and bewildered at how plainly she was speaking.

"Don't be a hero," she whispered. Her grip on my shoulders tightened. "Promise me."

"I promise," I repeated immediately. Of course I wouldn't be a hero. And what else was I going to say when she was staring at me with such a stern look?

She searched my face for sincerity, then pulled me into another hug. "Good."

I frowned into her shoulder. The invasion was really worrying her. She never acted like this, and it made me feel like I wasn't fully grasping the gravity of the situation. How could I, though? I had been in one life or death battle while she had lived through the Kyuubi and the Third War. There was no way I could appreciate the danger coming, not like she could. And she was a jounin, so—

A jounin.

My mom was a jounin.

"Mom," I whispered into her shoulder and hugged her tighter. A new sense of fear gripped me once I remembered the obligations attached to her rank. "Promise me you won't be one either, okay?"

"I'll do my best," she said, pulling back and fondly brushing hair out of my face. She gave me a reassuring smile.

I returned it weakly.

That wasn't a promise.

.

Procedure dictated that genin reported to their commanding officer alongside their team members to receive orders—and I would have done so, had I any idea on where to find Yūgao to begin with. She told us she'd be gone away for two weeks and it was nearing the end of the second week.

Even so, I reported to our team's training ground as I always did. It was still early morning, nearing the time Shin and I usually showed up. I shifted my weight between my feet and crossed my arms.

And waited.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. By twenty minutes, I frowned from my seated position on the ground. After thirty-five minutes it became obvious that no one was going to show up.

I warily scanned the treeline in front of me, suddenly feeling unsettled. Where is everyone…?

Shin wasn't showing up like he usually did. Was he avoiding me, or did something come up? As for Yūgao's continued absence, I hesitantly chalked it up due to her still being out of the village. Everyone was likely busy doing something in preparation.

My mind briefly shifted to Itachi. I still hadn't seen or heard from him. The apprehension in my gut worsened. It felt like I was left floating out in open water with no sense of direction. Normally, I felt fine being alone. Now, however, the loneliness left me feeling off-kilter and I wasn't sure why it was suddenly bothering me.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply to try and shake off the unease. Right as I was about to exhale, a chill went down my spine. My breath caught and out of sheer instinct, I rolled to my side.

Glancing back, I found five kunai and multiple shuriken embedded into the ground where I had just been sitting. I was close enough to see a liquid sheen coating them. Almost as if in a daze, I watched a drop form at the edge of a shuriken.

Did that just…?

Reality crashed into me full force, jolting me out of my stupor. My body was moving before I had even fully processed the situation; I sprung from my position into the nearest treeline. More weapons pelted the ground I had just been on.

I didn't think as I pumped chakra into my feet and ran.

Some of the kunai would have gone straight through my throat, my head, down my back. Even if they hadn't hit directly, it was safe to assume the liquid covering them was poison.

Senbon whizzed threateningly past my ear as I fled. I was about to bolt in another direction when the branch under my foot disappeared. My eyes widened, but my body once again moved on its own, and I bent forward and kicked off the trunk instead.

A blurriness at the corner of my eye sent off another alarm in my head—one Shin made sure to ingrain during our training. I slammed my hands together and formed the seal from memory. Release. Trees in my periphery snapped back into place as the genjutsu lifted.

The momentary victory vanished immediately, as a large, cloaked figure materialized in front of me and delivered a roundhouse kick to my midsection. The impact knocked the air straight out of my lungs and sent me flying. My back collided with a tree, sending shockwaves through my body, and the impact with the ground immediately afterwards rattled my teeth.

Move. Move move move—

Disoriented and wheezing, I nonetheless forced myself to roll and pushed off on all fours to avoid another shower of weapons. A shuriken nicked my left shoulder at the last second, sending a sharp spike of pain down my arm. My eyes widened. Shit.

"My, aren't you a slippery one." A feminine voice came from behind me as soon as I landed upright. Her words slithered across my shoulders like silk.

I cast the substitution jutsu without thinking.

From my new position a few trees over, I heard the echo of her soft, melodic laughter while I caught my breath. The saccharine lilt in her voice sent goosebumps crawling across my skin. My hands reached for the senbon in my pouch and I clutched them between my fingers like claws.

There was no time to think. My body was going through the motions on its own.

I heard buzzing before I saw another masked figure charging towards me, and their size suggested they were the same one who kicked me. I snapped my hand in their direction. They deflected with shuriken of their own, but I used the moment to substitute into another location.

I did it two more times immediately after, then hunkered down in a dense tree and tried to mask my chakra as much as possible. My fingers trembled as I reached for a kunai in my pouch. I had to remain armed.

Two cloaked figures. Masked. ANBU? No, I immediately discarded the thought. The Hokage had no reason to send ANBU after me. Kiri? No. I was too deep within village walls. Then who else—

Unbidden terror shot down my spine.

Danzo.

These were ROOT agents.

The crippling fear felt like a fist squeezing around my heart, all but freezing me to the spot. He had finally put two and two together and sent his agents after me. But why now, of all times?

Then the reason hit me.

Fugaku.

It was because I had gone to Fugaku. It was because he must have seen me going to Fugaku. The harsh burn in my lungs reminded me to breathe. I inhaled sharply and shifted, then realized I couldn't feel my left arm. Before I could fully register the implications, I heard a low hum of chakra to my left. I whirled and jabbed my kunai into the tree trunk behind me—

—and instead met a fleshy shoulder as the genjutsu concealing them immediately dissipated.

The woman recoiled with a hiss and our gazes met—there was a dark, hateful glint in her eyes. Another wave of terror crashed into me, locking me in place. The air around me felt oppressive, closing in and squeezing from all directions at once.

This is killing intent, I realized, staring hollowly at the mask in front of me. It felt like I would die if I moved even the slightest.

"How sloppy," a male voice behind me scolded. "You let this child wound you."

I couldn't turn my head.

"Shut up," the woman spat, abruptly pulling my kunai out of her shoulder and all but snarling towards me. The dusk-colored cloak around her arm was quickly turning a dark red, revealing just how deep my wound went. The vindictive part of me took vicious delight in the realization that I likely nicked an artery.

"Control yourself," the man said. I flinched as he knelt next to me and rested a hand on my head. A whimper slipped past my lips as he grasped a fistful of hair and yanked hard.

But the sharp pain snapped me out my paralysis and I bared my teeth in a snarl of my own. My good hand shot up to jab at two spots near his elbow, forcing his grip to loosen. At the same time, I pushed against him with my numb hand and kicked off in the other direction.

Panic seized me when I practically felt his breath on the back of my neck as we fell. I craned my head and fumbled for another weapon, but had the wind knocked out of me again as something else collided with me from the left.

When the world snapped back into place and the vertigo subsided, my nose brushed against a grey vest and I felt a warm arm wrapped around my shoulders. I immediately tried to pull back, but their grip tightened and kept me in place. Frantic, I pushed against them harder, trying to punch my way free.

They grunted when my knuckles nearly smacked their chin. "Miho, stop."

I froze at the familiar voice. My head snapped up and it took me a second to realize I was staring at—

"Shisui?" I whispered, wide-eyed. Once he was certain that I wouldn't bolt—and likely end up with a kunai in my forehead—his grip loosened and his arm fell away. His gaze remained locked ahead of him as he carefully sidestepped around me, leaving me in stunned silence.

"Don't interfere," the woman said coldly, landing a distance away from us. "We're under orders of the Hokage." She stood rigid-straight, her posture and tone betraying no wounds whatsoever, but the red stain on her shoulder was spreading by the minute.

I glared fiercely at her. I hope you bleed out.

"Funny, I don't remember ANBU receiving any orders like this," Shisui said lightly and unsheathed the tanto on his shoulder in one fluid motion.

The woman scoffed. "Do you think Hokage-sama shares his orders with everyone?"

"Well, maybe not," Shisui said, his smile lazy and sharp, "but what I do know is that Hokage-sama doesn't often send us to assassinate other Konoha nin—not without good reason, anyway. And last I checked—"

"Our business isn't with you." The man next to her took a step forward, clearly uninterested in conversation. "We will fight through you if necessary."

Shisui's smile slowly melted as his face set into a blank mask. "This has been such a long week," he muttered irritably to himself and shifted his weight. He dropped all pretense of civility. "I'd choose your next move carefully, if I were you."

"The Hokage didn't send them," I murmured from behind him, eyeing the two figures warily.

The woman's attention shifted to me and I stiffened, feeling her killing intent descend again.

It vanished into thin air the second Shisui blocked her from my view. Instead, I heard his chakra signature spike in volume. I saw it as an open flame, igniting brightly and spreading like a wildfire until it suddenly contracted, vibrating in density and—

He was returning the killing intent right back at them.

It appeared to hit her almost as a physical force in itself, making her stagger backward. Her shoulders hunched forward as she radiated sudden wariness. The man next to her, however, was still as stone.

I stared at the back of Shisui's head in horrified awe. He wasn't directing the intent at me, but the sheer potency of it—even on the fringes—had me rooted to my spot. I was vividly reminded of how oppressive his suspicion felt before; it barely held a candle to this.

No wonder his name alone incited fear outside the village.

Something must've clicked between them, because they all moved at the same time. The sudden flash of sparks and emptiness in front of me sent me bolting for cover behind the nearest tree. The temptation to run even further was pressing, but given how I was unable to outrun the agents before, I figured that it was best to remain within Shisui's proximity.

Within seconds, I ducked and scrambled to another location when I heard buzzing near me. Heat tickled at my back and a quick glance over my shoulder showed a clean arc of fire cutting clear between me and the second agent. This repeated two more times until it became clear that even while fighting the woman, Shisui wasn't about to let the second agent get near me.

Both of them focused on him after that.

I couldn't get a grasp on the entire battle, couldn't see much from my position, but I could gauge enough to tell that Shisui was everywhere... and nowhere at once. He flitted around the two agents with dizzying speed, appearing in and out of existence so often that I was starting to wonder if I had hallucinated his arrival to begin with.

But a grunt, a gust of wind, another flash of fire and the familiar sound of bones snapping, he solidified in front of the woman right as she fell to her knees. She hunched into herself, ducked her chin into her neck, then gave one last shudder and collapsed on the ground.

And didn't move.

Shisui's face was impassive as he stared down at her body. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, then he crouched and carefully tugged at her cloak to reveal the wound I inflicted. Even from here, I could tell it was a bloody mess, seeping into uniform she wore underneath.

I still waited a solid thirty seconds before deeming it to be safe enough to jump down. "She's dead?" I asked hesitantly, stopping a few feet away.

His gaze slid to me as I cautiously approached. I couldn't read his expression. "Yeah."

The relief felt overwhelming to the point where I couldn't even bring myself to consider how wrong it was to celebrate someone's death. But there was still— "Where's the other one?"

Shisui shook his head and sheathed his weapon as he straightened out. "Gone. He retreated when it became obvious that her—" he punctuated the word by tapping his toe against her corpse—"wounds were hindering her too much." His Sharingan remained on, occasionally flickering to the treeline as though catching movement.

"And you just let him get away?" I asked in shock. "You know he's just going to report to—"

"And leave you alone?" he interrupted, his gaze fixated on my face. "I mean, I can still chase after him if you really want me to."

My mouth clicked shut and my expression shuttered closed.

We lapsed into silence. It stretched, thickened, and like white noise, became deafening with each minute that we didn't speak. Now that the danger had passed, the dynamic between us slid from comrades to potential enemies—and both of us were vividly aware of it.

With each passing moment that we remained silent, something cold and dark blossomed in my heart, slowly spreading through my veins like ink. There was something to be said about the distinction in types of anger: white hot rage spread like fire and kept you warm, but cold fury made you focused. The adrenaline and terror from my near-death experience narrowed my vision until all I could see was Shisui in front of me.

"This is your fault," I said quietly, feeling cold fury settle over me like a blanket. "I nearly died because of you."

His expression didn't change in the least. My fists clenched.

"You know who gave those agents the orders to kill me." I hissed in a breath. "You know." And like a floodgate opening, all of the betrayal and bitterness I felt at him for going behind my back exploded inside of me. "This is exactly what I was worried about. If you hadn't opened your mouth and waited like I asked—If you had only trusted me—"

He took my scathing words with the patience of a parent listening to their child throw a tantrum. It made my hackles rise and ignited my fury even further.

I grit my teeth, glared fiercely at him, and asked the one, resounding question I had: "Why?"

"It was the right thing to do."

My expression was pure, sheer disbelief.

"The right thing to—"

"And to protect you," he said a heartbeat later.

I jabbed my finger at the corpse by his feet. "Does that look like protection to you? Does me nearly dying look like—" I cut off abruptly and took a deep breath. The urge to strangle him was incredible. The realization that I very well could give into the impulse at any moment was chilling.

But, god, I knew he wasn't an idiot.

"How?" I managed to breathe out, desperately clinging to some semblance of self-control. "How did you figure that telling Danzo about my ability would be a good idea, especially after Itachi and I pointed out his paranoia?"

He was always so liberal with his expressions, even dramatic at times, but during moments like these when I needed indications from him, he became so reserved and controlled that it was impossible to tell what went through his head.

"Danzo and Hokage-sama found out about your ability at the same time," he eventually said. His gaze flitted to the corpse by our feet. "I remember what you and Itachi said, but I figured that Hokage-sama knowing about it would be enough deterrence in itself."

It felt like a stone lodged itself at the back of my throat.

"I underestimated Danzo's willingness to do something like this," he muttered to the side, almost as if to himself. "I didn't think he'd actually…"

In the back of my mind, I always figured he had good intentions. But even after hearing the words come out of his mouth, I found that his good intentions did little to mollify me.

He noticed my falling expression and seemed to hesitate. "I'm sorry that this happened," he said, shifting his weight to one foot.

Sincere as he sounded, he was missing the point as to why I was angry to begin with. I waited and waited but it didn't seem to click.

"You're not sorry for revealing my secret for me," I said.

I saw confusion flicker across his face before understanding dawned. His brows furrowed and a frown tugged at his lips. He was about to start lecturing me—he wore the same look now as when I first told him about my ability, full of disapproval.

"No, I'm not."

"You're not sorry for taking a risk that was mine to begin with."

"No."

"You didn't trust me, Shisui."

"It's not a matter of t—"

"But I trusted you."

This time, it was his mouth that clicked closed. And for a moment, I could tell he was at a loss for words.

But then he took a step closer until we were at arm's length. "How long did you think you had before something like this happened?"

"Long enough." I brought a hand to my forehead, suddenly feeling far too warm. "Longer than if you hadn't opened your mouth. I know what I was doing." My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and a dull ringing filled my ears.

There was a low static hum coming from the woman's body and I eyed it warily. Was her ghost forming? I knew it took some time after a death occurred for them to solidify into a shape I could see.

Whatever Shisui said beyond that went over my head again. My vision blurred as I lost focus, and I barely managed to piece together why my senses had decided to spontaneously give up on me.

The desire to get an answer out of him had completely preoccupied my mind; I all but forgot the state of my body.

"Shisui," I interrupted whatever he was currently saying, swaying and doing my best to remain upright. "My arm."

If I hadn't seen him move, I wouldn't have known his hands were gingerly peeling at my jacket and sleeves to see the cut on my arm. The skin around it appeared inflamed, the veins sickly purple against my pale skin. Huh, I stared at it numbly. So that's the problem.

I couldn't feel a thing.

"Shit," Shisui muttered.

Yeah, I managed to think before my vision darkened completely. That was one way of putting it.

.

Tapping.

There was a relentless tapping at the back of my head, rattling my brain like a fish in a bottle and sending me into a foul mood as soon as I regained consciousness.

"—of course, Hokage-sama."

A gust of air breezed past my cheek. There was a sound of clothes shuffling together, then a chair scraping across wood.

My fingers twitched. The tapping wasn't tapping at all, but a dull throb pulsing at the base of my skull. It was a solid minute before I managed to crack my eyes open. It took me another to fully register the space around me. An office. A couch. A table with a few scattered papers. Bandages wrapped tightly around my arm.

I tilted my head to the side just in time to see three ANBU members materialize out of thin air. They knelt, knuckles pressed flat against the wooden floor, their heads bowed as a show of respect. White masks hid their identities.

A flare of terror flashed through me, but disappeared as quick as it came. Safe, the thought floated through my mind.

"We were unable to locate him," the one at the front spoke. Their voice was muffled by the mask. "The entire area was wiped clean." They paid me no attention, even as I stared right at them.

"And his operatives?"

"Also gone." The slightest hint of hesitation. "We were able to find some, but they suicided before we could detain them."

"Continue your search," came the order after a momentary silence.

"Yes, Hokage-sama." They disappeared.

A strange feeling settled over me. That was undoubtedly the Hokage's voice, but it sounded different from when we last spoke. Hesitantly, I pulled myself off the couch I had been laying on, and felt rather than saw the moment his attention landed on me. He didn't speak, but somehow I knew he knew what I had done.

He knew last time. He always knew.

There was an unrelenting pressure at the back of my throat urging me to apologize. All of the habits and mannerisms and social influences I had ever been exposed to and conditioned by in both of my lives were demanding that I bow to his authority, that I bow my head like the ANBU members had just done and await his judgment. Our previous encounter ran vividly through my mind.

I nearly gave into the impulse.

It may have been the events of the day, it may have been everything that had culminated to this moment, it may have been that I was simply tired and fed up and done. It may have been a multitude of things, but it filled me with a peculiar sense of calmness and certainty.

"I'm not sorry," I said, breaking the expectant silence and meeting his gaze squarely from across the room.

I could hear a faint, incessant ticking from the clock on the far wall. The throbbing at the back of my head dulled, and it felt like I was standing at the end of a tunnel, watching a train barrel towards me with no desire to step out of the way.

"I'm not sorry," I repeated, louder this time, resting my hands on my thighs. "You weren't getting anything done." In the back of my mind, I idly wondered if this was when I finally crossed the one line never meant to be crossed.

Where was this sudden courage, this complete blasé attitude coming from?

The Hokage stared me down. Then his eyes slid closed, his chin dipped forward, and the air around him stilled. When he looked up again—what felt like ages later—he looked every bit the old man he really was. His shoulders sagged and the deep frown etched on his face emphasized the numerous age lines on his skin. It was as though his entire body was too heavy for his old bones to carry any longer.

There was no warmth in his expression, no friendly glint in his eye, no hint of the forgiving Hokage I knew—just a haggard, hardened old man who had lived through a multitude of wars and horrors… and at the end of the day, survived.

"Do you know what you've done?" he asked, his voice flat and grave and unlike I had ever heard before.

My hands clenched the fabric of my pants. "I did what I had to in order to save my friends. I had the chance to make a difference. So I did."

"In my youth, I once had the same initiative as you," he told me. "I always did what I deemed best for myself, for those around me, and eventually, for Konoha itself. I have had decades of experience, Nanami-kun, and over many, many lessons, I've learned that often times, things will break despite our best efforts."

I bristled at his fatalistic approach. "But that doesn't mean—"

He mildly raised his hand and I immediately shut my mouth at the gesture.

"No, it doesn't mean that we shouldn't try. But I have also learned that sometimes inaction is the best course of action. Matters tend to have a way of resolving themselves, in the end." There was a heavy pause, until he sighed deeply. "But not this."

My eyes widened and my pulse spiked.

"The years have turned me passive," the Hokage continued, a dull look in his eyes, and for the briefest moment it felt as if he was speaking to himself. "And peace does not come on its own. What you've done will have its consequences, Nanami-kun… but perhaps the events you started are for the better."

I straightened further, bewildered and sorely tempted to ask him what he was getting at. It must have shown on my face, because a familiar twinkle reappeared in his eye. "However, make no mistake—I am still disappointed in you for not following my previous warning. But that is a matter to discuss another day."

He regained a more serious demeanor as all amusement evaporated. "How long have you known about Danzo's actions?"

I blinked at the sudden question, still reeling from the shift in his personality. The other side of him was without a doubt shown on purpose—and done to send me a message. "A fair amount of time," I said, still processing what his previous words meant. "Months. Nearly a year."

The truth was much longer, but. The answer was sufficient.

"And you found out through your ability, I assume."

"Yes."

"And until recently, you kept the information to yourself."

I nodded hesitantly, no longer able to follow the direction of the conversation.

"No wonder," he sighed. "I was curious as to why you reacted the way you did to his presence before. I had my suspicions, but never did I imagine the reason to be so..." he trailed off, solemn. He then wearily reached for his pipe as if seeking something. His actions were slow and sluggish, but somehow still deliberate all the same.

I took the lapse in silence to inspect the flash of pain which spiked along my arm. Bandages were neatly wrapped around where I knew the cut was, and save for some mild stinging, the skin around it felt otherwise fine. Given my ability to focus and lack of numbness, Shisui must have gotten me here before the poison—

I straightened in shock. Shisui. Where was Shisui?

"Hokage-sama," I began, but was interrupted by a knock.

His gaze flickered to the door. "Come in."

The door swung open, and in walked Fugaku… followed by Itachi. I recoiled in surprise at their appearance. "Hokage-sama," Fugaku greeted sternly, giving a stiff bow.

My bewilderment compounded at the respect he showed, but it was completely eclipsed over the relief I felt at Itachi's appearance. I shot up from my seat and took a few wobbly steps when my balance complained at the sudden movement, but pushed through it and came to a sharp stop in front of him. There was an overwhelming impulse to hug him.

Instead, I reached out and rested a palm against his shoulder. "I thought Danzo got to you," I exhaled. He was okay. "You didn't show up when you said you would and it's been days... I assumed the worst."

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly. "Events have been hectic." His brows pinched together as he took in my disheveled appearance and the bandages on my arm. "Are you alright?"

My hand fell back to my side. "I think so."

"This is only further evidence," Fugaku said with crossed arms. His attention was squarely on the Hokage. "Danzo feels threatened by this child and her information. He would not have acted otherwise."

"It appears that way." There was a weary sigh, but then his voice was once again cold and deliberate. "Rest assured, he will be found and properly dealt with. On that, you have my word."

Fugaku nodded, evidently satisfied but otherwise remaining stoic. "On the other matter, we've begun our own preparations. It took some convincing, but the clan is content—for now. Have you selected your ANBU?"

The… clan was content? Danzo was going to be dealt with? Just what had happened in the span of those three days? My head whipped back to Itachi with the question clear on my lips.

He hesitated, then, "If we may be excused for a moment, Hokage-sama?"

The Hokage chewed on his pipe. "You may."

"Don't wander far, Itachi," Fugaku said sternly, looking at us both over his shoulder. "We still have much to discuss."

.

.

.

I stumbled out of the office in a daze with Itachi trailing close behind. He shut the door behind us with a click.

Shisui was leaning against a nearby wall, and kicked off when he saw us. I barely noticed him glance over my arm and take in my appearance. I was still having trouble wrapping my head around what just happened.

"That was your father in there, right, Itachi?" I asked. "And he was speaking with the Hokage?"

"Yes," he said. "That was him." A pause, then he added, "You are not imagining it." It sounded like he was still having trouble accepting it, too.

I gave him a blank look. "Okay. What did I miss? Because clearly, I missed something important."

"I think that's something we should be asking you," Shisui interrupted with a strange look on his face. "I just got the news a little while ago, but apparently I missed a rather eventful clan meeting this morning. What did you do?"

I stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"You met with my father," Itachi clarified. "A few days ago. What did you tell him?"

"Just about everything," I murmured. "And I asked that he reconsider negotiating." When I didn't elaborate further, a growing mix of incredulity and disbelief grew on Itachi's face.

Shisui was in a similar state. "You just asked?"

I rubbed my shoulder again, feeling a bit more self-conscious. "Well, it was more along the lines of begging, but… yeah. It seemed like a confrontation was inevitable, but it takes two to make a conflict so—" I cut off and shook my head. "Anyway. I'm assuming something worked out...?"

"That's putting it mildly," Shisui said, rubbing his forehead with considerable consternation. "You have no idea what you did, do you?" At my silence, he gave a long sigh of exasperation. "I can't believe... Do you know what terms they managed to reach?"

I shook my head mutely. It couldn't have been that groundbreaking.

"They agreed to make me the next Hokage," Itachi murmured from the side, so quiet that I nearly missed it. "In an effort to appease the clan."

It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, I had to go over it a second and third time in my mind before it finally clicked. My head whipped to him so fast I thought I heard my neck crack.

Forget the sheer disbelief I had or the complete impossibility of even coming close to predicting an outcome like this, Itachi was—

"Eleven," I said, completely bewildered. "Itachi, you're eleven."

"It won't be now or for some time," Itachi said, a bit bemused that it was his age over all things that I was worried over. "And there were a few other terms in the negotiation, but—"

"But the majority of the clan has been dissuaded from a coup," Shisui finished, resting a hand on his hip. "There's still some discontent about the other terms which came with the deal, but it's the minority now."

There was a long, resounding pause as the three of us stood across from each other.

"I think I need to sit down," I finally said. Itachi inhaled deeply as though he wanted to do the same, but then his gaze returned to the office door. He stared at it, seemed to brace himself, and gave us both a curt nod before disappearing into the office again.

I slid down the nearest wall and stared blankly at the opposite end. After a beat, Shisui took a seat to my left. The hall was empty besides for us.

"Did I die?" I asked suddenly, breaking the silence between us. "Because all of this feels a bit..."

"Like a dream?" He gave a small, strained laugh. "Believe me, I already checked for genjutsu. Multiple times."

I exhaled slowly and felt myself sink lower into the floor. "Everything seemed to be barreling towards conflict and now it suddenly isn't and… It isn't, right?"

"It isn't," he confirmed, leaning his head back. "Or doesn't appear to be. Although, we still have Kiri hanging over our heads, so don't get too comfortable."

If the clan truly wasn't at risk of open rebellion anymore, then the impending invasion suddenly didn't seem as daunting. This was the best possible outcome I could have hoped for and I desperately wanted to believe in it—but it had been such an uphill battle to even get here, and I was so used to disappointment at this point that in the back of my head, I couldn't shake off the feeling that everything was going to come crashing down on our heads at any moment.

Life just didn't work this way. Pieces never arranged themselves this perfectly.

And we still had Obito to worry about. And Danzo.

Which reminded me.

"Thank you for saving my life," I said, hazarding a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm guessing you got me here in time before the poison did any lasting damage."

"Of course," Shisui said easily, pulling a leg back and resting his elbow on it. "I wish you mentioned it before you started yelling at me though, 'cause you cut it close there."

"You still don't understand why I mad was at you to begin with, do you?"

He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. "No, I do."

My eye twitched at his casual attitude. "But you're still not sorry for what you did."

He didn't offer a response to that, and I sighed. I rested my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, then reached up to rub my palms against my eyes. It seemed like I was going to have to accept that he wouldn't budge on this.

"You know," Shisui said slowly, "The more I think about it, the more obvious it becomes that Danzo's actions were… well, completely expected."

The temptation to rub it in was so very appealing. I gave him a flat look. "So how come you didn't think he'd do it?"

"Because I have a habit of believing in the good in people," he said, and I blinked at the blatant honesty. "I know they're capable of bad things, but… somehow I always convince myself that they won't do it. That they'd make another choice."

"That's… not a very shinobi-like mindset."

"No, it really isn't." There was a rueful smile on his lips as he stared up at the ceiling. "And I've been proven wrong more times than I can count. Today's an example of that."

"So why do you hang on to it?" I asked, shifting to get more comfortable. The wooden floor wasn't exactly nice to sit on, and the carpet felt itchy against my skin.

"Well, what's the alternative? Always expect the worst in everyone?"

"Expecting the worst will keep you alive."

"I think Danzo would say the same thing," Shisui said idly, eyes narrowing in thought. "But... maybe it's a way I need to think more often. Because if I hadn't shown up..."

"I'd probably be dead." It was an obvious fact. I had no delusions about it.

"...Yeah," he said quietly, tilting his head again. Our eyes met. "I'm sorry for not trusting you, Miho."

I held his gaze, and this time, saw that he really did understand the reason for my anger. Apparently my near-death experience drove the point closer to him than my argument did. My own expression softened.

But a door slamming down the hall brought me back to reality, and both of our heads snapped in that direction as we suddenly remembered where exactly we were.

I gave an amused huff. "There's probably a better place to discuss this, huh."

"Probably." A sheepish grin tugged at his lips as he idly scratched at his cheek.

My own lips twitched, but I easily accepted his outstretched hand as we both got up. "Apology accepted," I told him, letting go of his hand. "But I'm still mad at you." Truly forgiving him was something that would take time, and something that I would have to let go of on my own.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I kind of figured. I assume the yelling made you feel better, though."

"No." But at his slanted, knowing smile, I said, "Okay, yes. And… I know you had good intentions, Shisui, but please don't go behind my back again."

"I won't," he promised. Then gave me a pointed look. "As long as you promise to follow Konoha's laws."

That earned him an exasperated sigh, but I relented. Compromise was the only way to move forward. "Deal," I said, and my gaze landed on the office door to our left. Now that the initial shock had worn off, I wasn't sure how I felt about the announcement. "...So Itachi's gonna be the next Hokage."

Shisui exhaled sharply, all of the air rushing out of his lungs in one breath. He accepted the topic change with ease. "It seems that way," he said, appearing as mystified by the turn of events as I was. "I'll admit, I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around that one."

"Things rarely work out this smoothly," I agreed, recalling my earlier feelings of unease. "I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"I was expecting Itachi's father to try and take the mantle," Shisui said quietly and his face slid back into a neutral expression. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy this has been averted—but part of me is still wondering at his intentions."

I nodded, catching on to his train of thought. "Maybe Itachi's the middle ground?"

"Maybe," Shisui allowed, but otherwise fell silent again.

On one hand, if it was what kept the peace, then I was all for Itachi taking the position. He would undoubtedly do well and it was something I knew he could handle.

On the other hand, Shisui brought up a good point: why didn't Fugaku push to become the Hokage? Did Itachi even want the position? Did he have a choice in the matter? Even if he was meant to take the position within a few years, the responsibility of looking over the entire village was monumental.

Furthermore, I knew that all of this would undoubtedly siderail or completely null nearly all of my foreknowledge. The ripple effect of this was ground shaking. But if things worked out and my friends stayed safe, then I found I didn't really mind the loss of future awareness. There was a certain relief to be found in being just like everyone else, fumbling through life without knowing what the future held.

"Either way, he'll make a good Hokage," I eventually concluded. "But he's going to have his hands full—and that's putting it mildly."

"No doubt about that," Shisui sighed and rested a hand on his hip. "Good thing we'll be around to help, though."

"Yeah." I gave a weak laugh. "I just can't get over the fact that he's eleven. We're… We're really not normal kids, are we?" I exhaled deeply and my shoulders dropped. "Makes me wonder what we'll be dealing with when we get older."

"Well." He crossed his arms and stared intensely at the office door. "Hopefully the worst of it is Itachi's bad handwriting."

I blinked, and turned to find him completely straight-faced, brows furrowed—the very epitome of serious. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and arched an eyebrow. Then his lips twitched at my disbelief.

I rolled my eyes when it became obvious he was joking, but found a smile growing on my face all the same.

But no matter how much I wanted to believe, I couldn't shake off the pessimistic expectation of something going wrong. If things could change this quickly for the better, then they could just as easily snap back towards a nightmare. I had been disappointed too many times to make the same mistake again.

.

A/N: Once again not fully satisfied with the chapter but as I said, I'm determined to write more for this fic. And the only way to get back into writing is to do more writing. (ง •̀_•́)ง

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It's really heartening to see people still following this story despite my terrible updating habits. Heh. You guys are the best. I don't respond directly to messages anymore, but if you'd like to contact and/or chat with me, I made a discord server. If you'd like to join, the code is (without spaces) → discord . gg / YwpGgpR

Thank you to gelaato, Iaso, and Sage Thrasher for reading over this mess. Y'all are fantastic. (Highkey check out their stories, if you haven't already.)

I saw that most people prefer shorter chapters with quicker updates—and I tried, really guys, I did. But somehow this ended up being nearly 7k words. I found I can't release a chapter until I finish all the scenes in my head for it. Aha. ;_; I'm sorry.

Wishing y'all the best. Have fun and be safe this Halloween! (If you celebrate it!)

Omake:

"His handwriting can't be that bad," I said, crossing my arms. At Shisui's silence, I blinked owlishly at him and repeated, "It can't be that bad."

Shisui shook his head gravely, looking comically distraught by the very suggestion. "You've clearly never had to read one of his letters, Miho."

But Itachi was—well, Itachi. He was good at everything. It was impossible for him to have bad handwriting. Shisui had to be exaggerating.

Yet on the off chance that he wasn't, then…

A somber silence passed between us.

"I feel bad for whoever is going to be his secretary," I eventually said, nodding solemnly at the door. "They're going to have a rough time."

"Indeed," Shisui said, nodding along with me. We shared a look between ourselves, and a moment of understanding passed between us.

We loved Itachi, but neither of us was going to be caught dead helping him with paperwork.