Instead of returning to the Anbu headquarters, Genma slips through the window and stands in the middle of his apartment. How rotten is Konoha? He wonders. He tilts his head, taking sight of the picture of Raidou and him on the wall, his hand reaching up to grip the seal where he had stored the files.

Namiashi Raidou.

"I trust him," he says out loud into the now darkened room. The words comforting him no more than it did, churning in his brain. Raidou would never betray Konoha. His loyalty to the village is more steadfast than his.

Refusing to think of it, Genma changes into his jounin uniform and stalks to the jounin training grounds. He starts off with katas, then sparring with an invisible opponent.

Raidou would never betray Konoha. He has seen Raidou make such a decision over and over again that the very idea of him being a traitor is unthinkable. Genma knows this as certain as the sun would rise from the east.

He punches the air furiously, spinning around to land a kick on the tree trunk. The wood splinters beneath his sandals and he stands there, shoulders heaving.

But what if it is Raidou? What if he was that good of a spy? Raidou's an infiltration specialist. He has seen Raidou switch his persona as easily as breathing.

No, that's not right. Something's not right. What is it?

Genma starts the beginning pose of the Burning Leaf katas.

Strength in Unity, he repeats the old academy prose in time with each kata. Power for protection, wings from will of the fire. He leaps and strikes his leg out then takes a slow breath, feeling more stable than he had been hours ago.

"What is it, Shisui?" he asks, dropping onto the grass next to a water bottle he had brought.

"I was starting to think that you couldn't sense me the whole time. And you were as sensing-blind as Mongoose said you were," Shisui jokes and steps into the light.

"Che- I'm not that blind," Genma grumbles at the old team joke. It's been so long since they had sat around and made jabs at each other faults.

"So you say."

"You and Fuuko are just irritatingly good." Genma snorts. Until now, he still couldn't figure out how she could compress her chakra to make some kind of echolocation. Even Kakashi hadn't been able to do it. Although the blond brat had gotten closer than he had. He quells the sigh and the urge to punch that annoying smirk on Shisui's face. If it weren't for the fact that he knew that Shisui still had difficulty maneuvering around simple corners, he might have thrown Shisui a few surprise punches.

Instead he pulls a senbon out of his pack and sticks it between his teeth. "So what do you need?"

"Wellll…" Shisui drawls, sitting on the empty patch of grass next to him. "Itachi-kun's home! And he hasn't seen you in a while, neither has Sasuke nor Naruto, soooo…"

Genma chuckles at the brat's name. "Haven't seen Naruto! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day."

Right now Naruto would be with Yamato, halfway to sage knows where. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and ties his headband back on his head.

"I don't see what's so funny about that," Shisui says hesitantly.

Genma shakes his head. "I'll tell you later." He stretches his arms, loosening his joints. Now that he has stopped training, he can feel the bite in the January's evening air. He speeds up his chakra circulation, letting his body temperature raise up more.

But what if Raidou is the traitor? Or worse, what if Shikaku was a traitor too? Was Shikaku pitting him against Raidou? Shikaku is the Jounin Commander, his will… it should be the will of the Hokage… right?

He exhales, watching the cloud of air float and dissipate into the evening sky.

"Where are we going?" Genma asks after several minutes of padding dutifully behind Shisui.

"Home." Shisui eyes him. "I told you that Itachi just returned."

Genma rolls his head, forcing the lackadaisical persona to take over. His shoulders slouch as he dips his hands into his pocket, yawning so widely that his senbon nearly falls out. "You should have just dragged him along with you if you wanted me to see him."

"He really did literally just return home this morning," Shisui says reproachfully.

Perhaps Itachi was injured and Shisui wanted to keep it quiet? He couldn't help but wonder if Itachi had found out about his clan. The weight of the... Massacre must have shocked the young genius. Still, he couldn't see why Shisui would want him to see Itachi. He had never been particularly close to Itachi. What was he supposed to do? Offer his condolences?

His feet pause in front of the gates, still empty of the guards that used to be there. Genma didn't think he would never get used to the empty streets and silent houses. It had creeped him out the first time he walked Shisui back, and even on his fourth time through, it still does.

"What are the plans for the rest of the district?" Genma asks. Walking after sundown in this district is even more eerie than the last three times. He could hear the sound of the snow crunching underneath his sandals echoing and he isn't even making that much sound. He hunches his shoulders, following closely behind Shisui feeling very much like a character in one of Aoba's horror books.

"Now that Itachi is back, we can have the nominee fight. But Sayami doesn't want the clan head title anyway." Shisui shrugs.

"The nominee fight? Oh. You Uchihas still follow the old Warring Clan ascension rites, don't you?" Shisui glances at him with surprise and Genma tilts his senbon in a sheepish smile. "Shiranui isn't a big clan but we were once big enough to have Clan Head ascension fights in our history. Not that it was continued after they joined Konoha."

Shisui swings open the heavy wooden gate, letting him step through before locking it. "Well, we don't fight to the death now if that's what you're wondering." Shisui's voice is drier than Suna's desert.

"I'd guess that much. They wouldn't be pleased if they lost another Uchiha to some rite."

Shisui slips his sandals off and tucks it into a labelled cubby before taking out a pair of guest slippers for Genma which he gratefully wears.

"The kids are all off to bed already," Shisui tells him as he slides the kitchen door open. A petite Uchiha female eyes him, her cup halting in mid-air.

"Who is this?" she asks, eyes not moving from where he stood. Her hand twitches like she's about to cover all the paperwork set in front of Itachi and her.

"Ahh, Shiranui-san," Itachi nods at him and offers the seat next to him. "Sayami-san, this is Shiranui Genma, Fuuko-san's teammate. Shiranui-san, this is Uchiha Sayami."

Sayami, as in Dancing Devil Sayami?

Genma couldn't help but stare at the brunette in awe. During the war, he had gotten front seats in the trenches, watching her fight against the Iwa-nins. She had taken so many Iwa-nins and so quickly that day. In his memory she had seemed so much larger and fiercer than this woman in front of him that he found it difficult to imagine her being Dancing Devil Sayami.

"The Fuinjutsu Specialist?"

Genma glances at Shisui. Fuinjutsu Specialist? He did know fuinjutsu, having been taught by Yondaime before his death, but he would hardly call himself a specialist.

"Yep, the one and only!" Shisui grins and flops into a chair, tugging him to take the seat Itachi offered. Shisui turns to him. "We need you to help us look at Sasuke's seal."

"Wait, what? Sasuke has a seal?" Genma jerks at Shisui's words.

"You think he could help?" She frowns. "I've never heard of Shiranui-san doing fuinjutsu, let alone specialist work."

"Wait a minute. My skill is based on a very narrow and limited scope," Genma interjects, uneasy. The Space-time field hasn't been particularly useful unless he could replicate Yondaime and Niidaime's reflexes, any seal on any person would more likely be out of his scope than in. Though his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as they continued talking over him.

"Genma was trained by Yondaime-sama himself," Shisui says, quirking an eyebrow at Sayami.

"That wouldn't necessarily mean that he's good at it."

"By the sage of six paths! My scope is space-time. Not… whatever it is on Sasuke-"

Shisui shakes his head. "No, but he's the next best option if we don't want the Elder Council interfering with his seal."

"I don't understand. Why can't you ask the Hoka-" Genma starts.

"Danzo sealed Sasuke-kun." Sayami bites out, her lips curling in disgust. "Surely you don't trust them after what they did to your friend, do you? Not to mention that Sasuke's seal originally was supposed to be dealt by the fuinjutsu corps." She sniffs and drains her cup. "I can't tell if it's incompetence or sabotage."

She waves her hand tiredly. "Whatever it is, deal with it. If Shiranui-san can't then I'll have to lean onto Haruno-dono. As much as I much rather not, we can't let Sasuke-kun suffer." Sayami stands and scopes the paperwork in a pile then pulls out two thin folders for Itachi. "Don't forget to sign the clan tax form."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Itachi says as she slips out.

"So does anyone want to tell me what in the sage of six paths is going on here?" Genma asks the moment Sayami shuts the door. They stare at each other. Itachi wearily flipping through the folder.

Genma is tired of all this bullshit. They are shinobis, not some B grade actors from some kabuki drama for sage sake.

"Sasuke-kun was kidnapped by Shimura Danzo. In order to prevent Mikoto-obasan from killing him, he placed a seal on the base of his spine. Not that it stopped Mikoto-obasan from killing him anyway."

Genma heaves a sigh. "Not that I don't want to help, but you do know that my field isn't exactly typically applied on human skin. Which means I probably know next to nothing."

"Well-" Shisui exchanged glances with Itachi and drooped further in his seat. "Sayami-san had asked the fuinjutsu corps to remove it. They told her that they couldn't remove it, but had altered it to be inactive. Which means that it shouldn't have an effect on Sasuke-kun."

Genma could see where they were coming from. If they can't even trust the fuinjutsu corps then who can they trust? Fucking nobody, that's who. Genma rolls his senbon in his mouth then tugs his hitai-te off, scratching the back of his head angrily. "See here. I can't make promises."

He takes a good look at the two Uchihas. With all the shit slugging going around, Raidou had suggested taking a step back from the Uchihas so he hadn't dropped by as often as he would have liked.

He should have.

There are dark circles around Shisui's eyes and a tremor in his right hand. Genma pulls Shisui's hand out, running a green lit hand down his arm. Physically, there's nothing wrong with Shisui. So it's all psychosomatic.

"Just take a look at it, ok?" Shisui says. Genma only nods, because what else can he do?

"But that's not why Shisui made you come here," Itachi says for the first time since Sayami left. Tugging his sleeve up, Itachi places a finger on a storage seal inked on the underside of his wrist. A sealed scroll appears, dark red ends marking it as classified information.

Genma unseals it. The coarse paper rolling in his hand as he pulls it open. His breath hitches at the Hatake mon and he can't help snapping his head to Itachi. Itachi's mission had gone on much longer than he expected. Itachi's official mission had gone on longer than the administration had expected, but it had given him a plausible deniability.

Relief floods him that he can hear the buzzing in his ears.

They managed to get out. Hatake Kakashi had succeeded in his mission. At least all his efforts had not been for naught.

But Yamato didn't arrive. Then where is Yamato and Naruto?

-/-/-/-

Kakashi watches Fuuko brush her wig out, and adjusts the fake flesh over her cheekbones, fingers running over the light scarring on her bottom cheek.

"Imouto?" he calls out, pitching his voice higher than usual. His voice box will dislike him for a while, but for now, the fact that his sister doesn't flinch at his voice makes it all better. She turns, eyes widening at him. One of his lesser known skills were infiltration because the chidori made it so difficult to hide.

"Kakashi?" she asks with a wry smile, touching the purple streaks down his eyes. "Couldn't you have taken a skin coloured concealer for your scars instead?"

She called him Kakashi instead of nii-san, she hadn't done that before. "Maa- I'm not sure who this Kakashi is, but my name is Sukea."

She shakes her head. "You look and sound so… different."

Which is the entire point. They wouldn't get very far as their own selves. Kakashi pokes the fake scar on her cheek, an oil splatter mimic. "Like you are any different." He flattens her face between his hands and pinches her cheeks. Even though he knows that she's his sister, the higher cheekbones made her look so different that it was strange. Along with the brown dyed hair and green contacts, anyone searching for them would be hard-pressed to recognise them.

"Nii-san!"

"Good good, the fake flesh survived." He grins and ruffles her hair. "Do you have our cover story and personas ready?"

Fuuko rubs her cheeks with a pout. The familiarity of that pout makes something inside him ache. "I'll be the rude and loud cousin, who is bringing you home to marry my sister. We are going to head up to Kumo and fulfill Shikaku's orders, right?"

"Then I guess we'll be playing opposite personalities and I'll be the quiet, shy one?" Pulling out a journal and brandishing a brush, he writes on the book in elegant calligraphy that almost no one but his sister and Minato-sensei would recognise. "A sparrow. A branch in spring. It flies."

"A quiet, shy one that apparently writes bad poetry," Fuuko mutters.

"I'm appalled!" He gasps, clutching the journal to his chest, "My poetry is breathtaking."

"A moron. Thinking he's amazing. An idiot." She says then steps from the mirror, picking up the sheets of paper on the table behind her and thrusts a sheet into his face. "So here's the plan. We're going to go through Nikkounoki Village, hit Miraitoki-Gai."

"A disbeliever. Must bestow enlightenment. Believe it."

"You are dead to me," she deadpans.

"Yes, yes." Kakashi takes the paper, unwilling to test how much she's recovered from her… ordeal. At least her bickering with him is familiar and almost like pre-lab mission Fuuko. Maybe this mission, this defection might help to regain some form of normalcy between them. The irony. "Nara Miyako is our contact in Kumo. And since she's a merchant, we should probably be selling something," he muses.

"Tea perhaps. That's light enough."

Kakashi shakes his head, remembering the fine kimono in one of the boxes. A clothing merchant wouldn't need to carry his goods around, they would wear it to showcase their works. "A kimono merchant would be better." He watches a look slither across his sister's face, the same strange look that she had been having more and more frequently since Orochimaru. Even her mannerisms change ever so slightly when it appears. Unwilling to delve into his theories, he sticks it deep in his mind, next to Otou-san's suicide. "We wouldn't need to carry anything special," Kakashi points out.

She nods but says nothing else. Her silence stirring the fear in him.

He won't think about it. He won't think about it.

'A rainbow. On a plain cloth. A wasted stitch,' he scribbles over the book, rapidly filling the journal up with bad poetry.

Fuuko heaves a large sigh. "I wish. I much rather have Onee-sama marry Taichi-san, but Hitori-kun is the next oldest male. In order to make sure the business stays with the main branch, he has to marry in."

"Sukea," he interjects, with an eye smile. "Kishuku Sukea, since Miyako's undercover name is Kishuku Miaka."

"So I'll be Kishuku... Akiko." She turns back to the table, completely missing the start at her choice of name. Fuuko had always picked Kazea or Kazemi for her undercover name.

He swallows shallowly, tucking his worries deep inside him and says nothing.

-/-/-/

Genma had always known that the things they did in Anbu were not quite morally ethical. Regardless of whether it was ethical or not, Anbu had always put their comrades first before the mission, even if the rule had indicated otherwise. The Anbus were proud and fiercely loyal to their own squad. They lived, endured, and died together.

How Shinichiro Mizuki ever survived long enough with such ruthlessness is beyond whatever Genma could even imagine. How could he even think that suffocating his own squad mate for the mission's success could even be an acceptable act? At least he's gone now, retired into teaching. Whether that is for better or for worse, he isn't very sure.

He shakes his head and sets Mizuki's folder aside. If a man could even think that killing his own squad mate would ensure the success of the mission, then he could very well reason selling his own comrade.

Genma stares at the four folders. Out of the stack of profiles that Shikaku had given him, he had shortlisted four of the suspicious or most probable traitors: Shinichiro Mizuki, Yamamoto Hyou, Nara Ensui and Namiashi Raidou.

No matter how much he wants to dismiss Raidou from the list, there have been some flag raising things in his classified records. Could Raidou be the traitor? Could he be completely assured that Raidou was loyal? Disbelief colours his thoughts. No, only the foolish would recklessly be unwavering in their trust. Raidou's actions based on the records had cast doubt.

Genma seals the folders into the seal on his vest, erasing any evidence of anyone that might have entered the archives. He seallessly casts a henge on himself, camouflaging himself as a spot on the wall. It's funny how he's using his assassination specialisation to infiltrate the very division he works for.

An Anbu patrol enters the archive five minutes later and Genma slides out, keeping his chakra tightly compressed. Genma slips into one of the empty training grounds, sheds his Anbu gear, then drops his henge. He stares up at the blue sky. The bright blue sky, a contradiction to the feelings warring in him.

"Fuck everything." Genma stuck his favoured senbon into his mouth, chewing it rather viciously. "Fuck everything." He wanted to go to the bar and drink himself into a stupor or find Gai for a spar, but Gai isn't in Konoha at the moment and frustrated as he is, there are a lot of things that still needed to be doing.

Adopting a languorous posture, Genma saunters pass the outlying houses that dotted near the training grounds. His facade never breaking stride even as he passes through the housing district and finally into the commercial part of Konoha. He stills for a brief moment, hiding his hesitation by adjusting his senbon. The crowd mills around him, genin corp shinobis leaping off the rooftops armed with their stack of missives, Anbu patrols hidden in spots of the rooftops, watching for disturbance. A group of rowdy children runs pass him, laughing riotously.

By leaving his closest friend on the highly possible traitor's list, he is protecting this.

Genma swallows hard, eyes averted from where the Anbu stood and makes his way to the nearest snack shop. The takoyaki burns in his mouth. His eyes water as he tries to wolf them down and his resolve hardens.