Notes: I owe Limey, Enbi, and Fish the entire world. EXTRA love to Black' Victor Cachat whose reviews bolstered me into updating within half a day of reading them.

Warnings: Ah yes, my old friend… a child recently removed from a traumatic situation.

Relationships: [Nohara Rin & Uchiha Obito], [Nohara Rin & Isobu | Sanbi | Three-Tails], [Nohara Rin & Haku], [Nohara Rin & Momochi Zabuza] (all platonic).

Title: Precision Work

Summary: Rin knew three things for certain: One—jinchuuriki could regrow vital organs in seconds. Two—she didn't die. Three—she couldn't go back. [Rin-survives!AU.]

Precision Work

— V —

The boy didn't resist when Rin packed up his meagre belongings, nor did he provide her with information regarding surviving family he could stay with. Try as she might, he refused to answer any of her questions, leaving Rin to feel like she was treading the deep, morally ambiguous waters of what was technically a kidnapping.

Isobu was quiet, had been since last night, but she thought she felt his pleasure anyway. Her mind was in turmoil about what she was doing. He was thrilled about it.

Screw Isobu, anyway.

'I can't leave him alone,' She reminded herself. It was a mantra. The boy was untrained, orphaned, and so, so young. There was no way he'd survive by himself in any country, let alone this one.

Rin wasn't heartless. Despite whatever argument could be made against her actions, there wasn't no other way to navigate the situation. Not humanely.

He watched her pack the last of his clothes with a vacant gaze. Rin hoped he wasn't offended by what she was doing. Or afraid. As soon as he worked through his shock and was able to communicate with her, she'd grab his opinion. If he wanted to go it alone, she'd let him. He wasn't a prisoner.

"Chibi, can you stand?" In absence of a name, Rin had taken to calling him 'chibi'. Not the most original nickname to give a child, but cut the girl some slack.

The boy didn't budge. He was wrapped in Rin's haori still, hadn't made a move to take it off, and Rin left it on him. He was small. He needed the warmth more.

"We need to leave soon, kiddo. Do you understand?" Still nothing. Rin kneeled in front of him, keeping her body language disarming and non-threatening. "I'm going to grab your hands, okay? I want you to squeeze once for yes, twice for no. Can you stand?"

He looked at their hands like he didn't recognize them. Regardless, after a repeat, he squeezed twice.

Rin hummed. Progress. "Good boy. Would you like me to carry you on my back?"

Another long pause. One squeeze.

Seemed like their belongings were going into a sealing scroll. She stocked on them before taking the convoy mission, she was sure she had spares. Large enough to fit a few packs, easy.

"Last question, Chibi. Be honest with me. Do you want to come with me?" The boy glanced up at her warily, a shadow clouding the complicated expression on his face. She waited, but he didn't squeeze her fingers. "You don't have to. I want you to know that I'm not forcing you. But you're a child, and with your parents… Honestly, I'd feel better if I could keep you at my side until I know for certain you'd be safe without me. Does that make sense?"

He swallowed harshly, the sound loud in the eerily silent house. It was empty, and the snowy village was always quiet. The snowfall was consistent and soft, never violent unless there was a rare storm.

One squeeze. So soft that it barely registered.

Rin smiled at him, pleased. It was hard, she knew. Trauma patients were unpredictable. One patient was never the same as another. There were guidelines on how to deal with it, but of course you had to be flexible with them. People's minds worked differently. Rin had treated fully grown jonin who went catatonic for days after a particularly traumatic event, such as the death of a squad or being liberated from a foreign policy's interrogation room. The fact that Chibi was not only listening, but responding to her questions, was nothing short of outstanding.

'The natural plasticity of a child's mind has always been something to witness,' She thought. It's why shinobi started out young. There was no better time to learn.

"Do you want to come with me?" Rin asked, and he lifted his head to scrutinize her. Searching for the danger, for the lie. Unless he could scan Isobu's intentions from her eyes alone, he wouldn't find any intent to harm. It wasn't there.

She said, "I want to help you. Please believe me."

And then, after one of the longest, strained pauses Rin thought she had ever experienced—

A squeeze.

Except this time, he didn't release the pressure.

He held on, tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white and her near-frostbitten fingers lost what feeling was left. Rin opened her mouth to say something, anything that might comfort him, but changed her mind when he hiccuped. His breathing turned irregular; hitched and watery, marking the beginning of another episode.

Isobu thrummed with disgust at the sight of the boy's running nose. Rin mentally kicked him until he kept to his own side of her mind.

When Rin used to cry like this, her mother or father (or both, on the bad days) would pull her into their arms and rock her slowly to sleep. She felt like a baby, but in their eyes, that was true. Their fingers in her hair, tugging through clumps of blood. Her mother sometimes stripped her of her dirty clothing and wrapped her in a warm blanket that smelled of detergent and fabric softener. Rin was swaddled with familiar smells and familiar touches until she came down from the peak. Her parents were a gentle hand at her elbow, not tugging, not pulling — simply there to remind her that someone was.

The boy needed that. And Rin couldn't give it to him exactly, but...

'Doesn't hurt to try.'

She collected the boy's stray limbs and pulled him into her arms. He trembled against her collarbone, lost in misery and robbed of his innocence.

There was no way she could walk away from this.

If Rin had it her way, she'd be out of the country and surrounding lands swiftly, missing the warmth and humidity of home. As it stood, she had a traumatized kid glued to her and no idea about how to take care of him. He wasn't a patient. He was a little boy.

And Rin was on the edge of eighteen years old. She wasn't prepared in the slightest.

Her destination was set: a place with people who could give her information. Rin ran into the night, pushing her limits as far as she could go. As a mercenary, she hadn't been challenged the same way a shinobi lifestyle did, so her stamina was a little low. That was embarrassing.

'I used to be able to go days without sleeping,' The kunoichi thought bitterly, setting up the perimeter traps around her camp. 'Now look at me. Kakashi-kun would be so upset if he were here.'

He never liked it when Rin held the team back. He was a genius, and Rin simply wasn't. It wasn't unusual for Kakashi to lose patience with her slow progress; even less unusual for Obito to passionately leap to her defense, yelling about how if everyone could be a stuck-up prodigy like him, Kakashi wouldn't be so special in the first place.

"If we were equal, no one would know your name! So why don't you be grateful the rest of us can't put you in your place because it won't be that way forever; I'll get you back for every time you've been an asshole to Rin if it's the last thing I do!"

Obito had always overreacted whenever he saw her upset. His protective instinct towards her often lined up with his natural rivalry with Kakashi, and set up their team for a lot of unnecessary conflict. Rin had to act as a mediator more times than she could count, but she was never as effective as Minato, who Kakashi at least respected.

The thought of her oldest friend sent a pang through her heart, a feeling like molasses coming down over her head, dripping slowly, making her feel cold and heavy and slow.

She missed him. All of them.

Rin shook her head, admonishing herself for getting lost in her thoughts. Chibi was waiting for her at camp and did not need her dawdling on the traps. She tied off the snare, covered the contraption with leaves and dirt, and went back to the fire she could see through the trees.

Chibi was where she left him; swallowed by her haori, sitting next to the fire, eyeing the rabbits roasting on a stick. He licked his lips.

"They should be ready," said Rin. "Would you like some?"

Chibi nodded furiously. He'd eaten nuts and snacks on the way, but nothing large enough to substitute a real meal. "You must be starving," Rin muttered, taking the food out of the fire and handing one stick to Chibi, who tore into it. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

Damn it. Of course he was hungry. She made a note: three meals a day. He was still growing. Even if it put them behind schedule, she'd make an effort to stop and feed him three times a day.

They sat mostly in silence as they ate. It was strange for Rin; usually, she had Isobu ranting about something or rather, threatening her with migraines as he ranted about how much he hated oil and boats and anything that ruined the pristine nature of the oceans. Since he was upset with her, he was giving her the cold shoulder.

It was kind of lonely.

'Isobu-kun?' She asked, mentally poking him. 'Can we talk?'

Isobu did the equivalent of rolling over, showing her his back. He was such a child.

'I think we need to have a conversation. Ignoring me isn't going to—'

'Go away!'

'Isobu-kun…'

He blew a raspberry at her. A raspberry. Oh, that turtle! Rin fumed at his immaturity, barely resisting the urge to do something equally as embarrassing, and left him to sulk. See if she cared. There were more proactive things to do.

Such as attend to the child in her care. Rin, still pouting, watched as he shifted closer to the fire. He'd polished off his rabbit and was reaching for the squirrel, an extra bit of food that she usually kept for herself: a snack for the day.

However, he was skin and bone. Rin had protein bars. She could get by on them. Tomorrow, she'd just make sure to bring back more game so they could both eat to their heart's content.

The heat of an open flame caused him to snatch his hand back — not burnt, but wary. Rin watched him with growing amusement as his fingers tentatively moved forward, slow, like he was sneaking up on live prey, before snatching the stick, quick as he could.

He triumphantly ate his prize, absently bringing the haori closer to his body. He was more expressive today. He'd had the entire journey to process. A child could endure a lot of horrors; she was sure he was working through it already, compartmentalizing, or simply distracting himself. She wouldn't know until she asked.

Later, maybe. He looked content. She didn't want to ruin it.

On another note: 'I'll need to buy him clothes.'

She'd packed what she could, but Chibi didn't come from a rich family. His clothes, though threadbare, were fit for the cold of his snowy home. Rin mainly operated in the more humid climates as they were familiar lands to her. Generally, she tried to avoid the Land of Water.

Yes, shopping was vital. He'd get sick as he was. "Hey Chibi," Rin called. Chibi tensed at her voice, chewing madly on his mouthful of squirrel. His eyes were so big. "Wanna go to town?"

He shrugged.

"I think it'll be good for us." She carried on. "Besides, if I don't have you dressed up by the time we reach our destination… I'll be in big trouble."

At the thought of her reaction to Chibi wearing what could generously be called rags, Rin shuddered. She'd be horrified, and Rin would be the one getting in trouble. She could part with some yen if it meant surviving.

"Maybe… hmm, after we leave this country… I think I can manage it..."

Chibi, unconcerned, went right back to his squirrel.

The closest town was Samani, a moderately sized village near the harbour Rin and Chibi's boat put them. "Halfway there," Rin cooed sympathetically, rubbing Chibi's back as they exited the vessel. She waved at the captain, a former client of hers that had been happy to make the trip for a discounted fee, before turning her attention back to Chibi.

Seasick. She would have never guessed.

"I know, I know, it's rough. Chew on this, it'll make you feel better," She always carried ginger around for nausea, and was glad about it. Chibi shoved the herb in his mouth, chewing miserably, face a rather sickening mixture of pale and green.

Once she saw him struggle to take a few steps, she asked, "Wanna piggy-back ride?"

His hand found hers, squeezing once.

On her back he went. If she wasn't careful, it would become a habit. 'I could always consider it strength training,' Rin mused. She didn't mind carrying him. After everything he went through, it was the least she could offer.

Samani wasn't busy, per se, although the streets were bustling. It was active, and seemed to be sectioned off to separate civilian and shinobi wares. Saminari was a coastal town, situated on an unclaimed peninsula. Because it bordered the Land of Fire but didn't belong to any country, there were plenty of Kirigakure shinobi wandering around.

Rin didn't know their intentions, sure, but these were shinobi from a country that had attempted to kill her and destroy her village. On top of that, if they knew what Chibi was capable of, he'd be in mortal danger.

Chibi buried his face in the back of her neck. He'd seen the shinobi. His fear became palpable.

Her hands were on his knees, keeping them around her waist. She tapped them, keeping the touch light and jovial. "I gotcha, Chibi," She murmured, side-eyeing the closest threat. "We'll just have to shop in the civilian sector, won't we?"

That was doable. Chibi didn't need shinobi-grade anything: He wasn't exactly joining her in fights.

"How do you feel about brown, kid? Like it?" Chibi made an ambiguous noise that she translated as, 'get me away from the people who slaughtered my clan' which was, like, fair enough. "We'll try it out, see what suits you."

Turns out, Chibi wasn't a difficult shopper: in that he didn't hate what Rin picked out for him. Short and long pants, a few pairs of plain t-shirts, underwear, a few light coats — necessities, all in dark muddy colors. She ended up buying a pack of hairbands. She had her own but they broke easily, and Chibi needed his own store to break into since he definitely didn't want a haircut.

After she had him all dressed up, they stopped by a shinobi supply store for rations and pills, then set off.

"You're going to like them," She assured the child on her back (yeah, definitely becoming a habit). "But don't worry so much if you don't, because I know that they're going to love you."

A couple days later, Chibi still wasn't talking. Rin didn't let it discourage her: he was making sounds, at least, so there was communication. She was getting good at figuring out what he wanted based on the tone of his grunts and the looseness of his shrugs.

Unfortunately, it was hard to brag about it when the only person she could do it to was ignoring her.

'You're not an example of maturity right now,' She told Isobu. She told him something along that line everyday.

'I don't care,' replied Isobu. He typically responded like that with slight variance in his word choice. Occasionally, he went into detail about how worthless Chibi was as a person, a mere blob in the span of the universe, a worm compared to a god, et cetera, et cetera. Rin ignored him. It was a tantrum, plain and simple.

He'd get over it eventually. He couldn't be mad at her forever. It had been a week — she missed him, but until he understood that his behavior towards Chibi wasn't going to fly, she'd gladly let him sulk.

Chibi was walking next to her, hand in hers. With her back free, she had her club-slash-staff thing within arms reach as opposed to sealed away, as it was whenever Chibi wanted a piggy-back (often). Rin was telling him about Team Seven, redacting details like clan names, anything related to Konoha, and Minato-sensei's name. Chibi probably wouldn't recognize the name of a foreign Kage but it never hurt to be safe.

She wasn't sure, but she thought Chibi was kind of entertained by her stories. He perked up when she told him about Obito. He laughed once during a tale about Obito's antics; she wasn't surprised.

Obito had that effect on people. Her, most of all.

"Aunt Namori wasn't going to let him get away with trashing her store, even accidentally, and started storming towards him, broom in hand — I should mention that she has this back injury, hereditary, I checked once, and she has this hunchback, so she's absolutely tiny, while Obito's just gone through a growth spurt and is towering over her — but he looks terrified of this miniature old woman, and —"

There was a sound like something shifting in the bushes surrounding the path. If Rin didn't know the forest and its natural activity like the back of her hand, it might have been too subtle for her to catch.

Interesting.

'Head's up,' said her friend, voice bored. 'Left.'

Rin threw her senses out in the direction Isobu named, hearing nothing but plants and nature.

'I don't — oh!'

An erratic blur of movement, shuriken propelled out of the bushes to her right. There was no way that wasn't on purpose. Furious at Isobu but with no time to get into it, Rin picked up Chibi in a now-familiar movement and leaped out of the way.

On the branch, with a confused and frightened child in her arms, Rin thought, enraged: 'You said left.'

'Did I? I meant my left.'

'We're in the same body!'

'My bad, I guess I'm not as experienced with direction on land. There's very little gravity in the ocean, don't you know? Very difficult to tell left from right.'

He didn't sound sincere. And wasn't. He could have gotten Chibi hurt — which, of course, was his intention. 'We're talking about this,' Rin hissed, angrier with him than she had been in a while. But Isobu wasn't cruel — he wasn't, and this kind of behavior was beneath him. It couldn't happen again. If Chibi was staying with her, he would be under both their protection.

Whether that big baby liked it or not.

Rin's lips thinned with displeasure. She placed Chibi down on the thick branch: high enough to keep him out of danger while she handled the confrontation. "Keep quiet," she whispered, directing his hands to hold the branch and keep him steady. "I'll get you when I'm done."

Chibi was pale-faced and sweating. He nodded once, imperceptibly.

Good enough for her.

It wasn't her usual modus operandi to drop into the middle of a cluster; Rin preferred to keep to the shadows, wait until night fell, and attack when her enemy's defenses were down. Jumping into the middle of an ambush by bandits wasn't historically Rin's cup of tea.

Children really did change things.

It was a group of four, armed with poorly-handled weapons. She would bet they'd plucked a pack from the corpse of a shinobi. Probably Suna. If there ever was a village stupid enough to leave their dead out to rot, it was Suna.

She fell onto the head of one — a bald man wearing a dirty bandana — and cracked his skull against the ground, feeling him go limp beneath her. "If we looked like easy targets," she told the gathering apologetically, "that wasn't my intention. Unintentional deception… awkward."

Three left. A pair of twins, one with a scar through his eyebrow, and the last with heterochromia. Well, hopefully that didn't turn out to be a dojutsu. Not that she'd ever heard of one that caused heterochromia. Just — you never knew, right?

Eyebrow-Scar was trigger happy, firing off another shuriken. Rin caught it: there had been an attempt to sharpen it, but it was tricky when you didn't know how. "Careful, you could hurt someone with these. Like this—"

Enforcing it with chakra, Rin returned the projectile, aiming for the bicep and hitting the shoulder.

'Your aim sucks,' Isobu groaned.

'I'm not talking to you, Isobu-kun.'

'Now who's being immature?'

Ugh!

Eyebrow-Scar's twin surged forward with a tanto, seeking vengeance. Rin redirected him to Heterochromia with chakra strings, letting them fight and occupy themselves. "Taku, man, cut it out!"

"I'm — not — doing — anything!"

"Drop your sword!"

"I — can't — control — my — body — can — you — stop — punching — me!"

"No, you have a sword!"

Eyebrow-Scar ripped the shuriken from his shoulder, tears in his eyes. "I'll get you for that," He swore, equipping himself with multiple small blades. She wondered about their use. Figured it out when he threw them at her. Oh, little kunai. "Release my brother, witch!"

"Yeah," yelled his twin, "Release — me! Bora — dodge!"

Heterochromia didn't dodge, crying out in pain at the new wound on his cheek. "Ow!"

The twin continued to waste energy fighting Rin's hold, which was secure and difficult to fight when you didn't have much chakra. Such as these men… boys, really. "Sorry — I — sharpened — it — last — night."

"I noticed!"

"This is so sad," Rin muttered. Begrudgingly, Isobu was amused, and it was affecting her own emotions. "Why did you guys attack me in the first place?"

Eyebrow-Scar snarled. "It's none of your business! Stand there and let us rob you!"

"I don't want to?" Rin released the twin abruptly, leaving him to fall forward, sending him and Heterochromia into the dirt. With a shunshin, she was behind Eyebrow-Scar. Less amused, she told him: "You could have hurt the boy with me, you know. That isn't nice."

She put her fingers to his temples and sent him to sleep. Heterochromia and the Twin had scrambled to their feet by then, and were pointed in her direction with their weapons out: a tanto and a pair of golden knuckle-busters.

"Just because you're bandits doesn't mean you have to be amoral," Rin lectured them. "The next time you see a young woman travelling with a little kid, how about you walk away?"

"As if we'd let you walk away after the humiliation you caused me!" The Twin spat, waving his recently sharpened tanto around. "I'm gonna avenge my brother if it's the last thing I do!"

"It might be," said Rin, honestly.

Heterochromia made a face, stopping his friend's charge with an arm. "What, really? You'd kill us?"

"Yes, though I'd rather it didn't come to that." She pointed at the sleeping man. "And what do you mean by 'avenge'? He's alive."

"He is?"

"I'm a pacifist."

"You mean a coward," said the Twin, eyeing his brother with renewed interest. He seemed less angry when he heard the man snuffle. "What about Ken?" At Rin's confusion, he gestured at the man she'd taken down by dropping on him. "We heard his skull crack—"

"I can heal him, it's just a concussion. Look, I don't have anything against you guys. I just don't like that you threw shuriken at the kid when I was right there."

Twin opened his mouth wide, only for a pained wheeze to escape him when Heterochromia elbowed him hastily. "You would have preferred if we attacked you?"

Baffled, Rin replied, "He is five."

Both men winced. "Well, it… yeah, alright. Obviously, there's been a misunderstanding. We thought you weren't… whatever it is you are. That was our mistake. We've lived and learned. If you let us go, we promise to not do this ever again."

"Rob people?"

"Rob you."

"That's fair. It would be smart if you avoided attacking shinobi in general," said Rin. "We're jumpy."

"A shinobi?" repeated Heterochromia, choked up. "Damn."

"I know. Close one, huh?" Rin clasped her hands together, sensing an end to the confrontation. "Do you want me to heal your friend? This one" — she waved at Eyebrow-Scar — "will wake up naturally, so you don't need to worry so much."

The Twin crossed his arms sullenly. Heterochromia looked fascinated, stepping aside with a wave of his arms. "Please, if you could. We don't have a first aid kit."

"You should invest in one," Rin crouched near the man and checked his condition. As she thought, nothing serious. A mild concussion that wouldn't leave brain damage. Although, he had suffered a few head injuries as it was. Anymore would be trouble. Rin conveyed as much.

Heterochromia groaned. "Yeah, Ken likes to charge in without thinking. Gets him in some trouble. No more head injuries, you say?"

"Preferably." Rin healed the fracture and sent a dose of sedative chakra through his system. "Alright, done! He'll wake up naturally, like your brother. Make sure he eats something when does. And water! He'll be dizzy!"

"Understood," Heterochromia looked disheartened by the idea of hauling two grown men back to his camp, wherever it happened to be. Then he perked up. "Hey, you're a medic, right? Shinobi? But you aren't wearing a headband, so you must be one of them nukenin."

"Well… I mean, yeah?"

"No employment?" Heterochromia waggled his eyebrows. "Cause I happen to know a bandit gang that's in desperate need of a doctor and you more than qualify for the position—"

Oho, definitely not.

"No way," Rin snorted, sending a glance to the tree she'd hidden Chibi in. His wide eyes peered through the darkness. Safe. "I'm a mercenary. I like it that way. But you fellas aren't too bad, so here."

She gave Heterochromia a piece of paper that had リン written on it.

Heterochromia squinted. "Rin?"

"That's me! Put some chakra into that if you ever need me," Rin smiled. "I'll try find you. Don't use it for something silly. I'll know. I won't be impressed."

Heterochromia shared a loaded look with the Twin, before giving Rin a determined, albeit confused, nod. "Will do. Uh, thanks, Rin-san. For not… you know, killing us."

"Don't worry about it."

Rin leaped into the tree, where Chibi was sitting in pure astonishment. "Ready to carry on? I want to reach the house before dinner."

Chibi made a breathless noise that she knew to mean he was confused and slightly overwhelmed. He lifted his arms, allowing her to carry him. Heterochromia was waiting for her on the road, but the Twin was sitting by Eyebrow-Scar's head, wiggling his finger around in his ear. Gross. She was glad she never had a brother.

As soon as Heterochromia saw the boy in her arms, he delivered a shallow bow. "I apologize for throwing shuriken at you, young man. Your mother has convinced me that it isn't nice."

Chibi scrunched his face up and said, with actual words: "She's not my mom."

Words?!

Rin stopped breathing. Heterochromia said, "Uh, sorry, I meant your sister. Hope you didn't get hurt."

Chibi shook his head. That was that. Heterochromia bowed to Rin, then shuffled over to collect his unconscious friends. Rin, still in complete shock at the sound of Chibi's voice again (much different when it was steady), stood there. Processing. It was taking a while.

Until Chibi tugged on her hand. "Are we going?"

'By the Sage, more?!'

"Yup." Rin agreed numbly. "Say goodbye, Chibi."

"Haku."

Robotically, Rin moved her eyes to him. She didn't know what to think. He was staring up at her, blushing. Oh, that was adorable. "Haku," she corrected, rewarded with a small, bashful smile. "Say goodbye."

"Bye." He called to the bandits, voice hardly louder than a whisper. The Twin glared. Heterochromia waved. Polite guy. "Let's go."

Oh, that wasn't going to lose its shine anytime soon.

'Breathe, idiot.'

The shock of Isobu's voice did get her to inhale. Or maybe that was the anger. She hadn't forgotten about the impending lecture she would be delivering onto him. 'You and I are going to talk about when it is appropriate to endanger the lives of chilren, Isobu-kun. The answer is: NEVER.'

'Don't wanna.' Isobu sniffed. 'Go back to your brat already,'

'I will.'

'Fine.'

'Fine!'

He scoffed. Rin tossed her head and held onto Chi— Haku's hand. He looked ready to move on. There was nothing keeping them there. He was speaking again, which implied a certain level of comfort and safety around her. Good. At least he trusted her enough.

It would make the visit much less complicated now that she knew his name.