A/N: Welcome to my resurgence. Hiatus over, I'm back chucklefucks.

Kakashi would give everything for Konoha. He would sacrifice himself and everything he owned down to the last atom for her safety.

Well, maybe not his books, but it was the thought that counted.

But Konoha wasn't perfect, and it scared him on a rare occasion or two.

No, really, just two.

Anbu tattoos are funny little things. Many people assumed that they worked as some kind of summoning trigger, or a messenger function. Useful, perhaps, but factually untrue. Their purpose was for the protection of the Anbu operator.

By erasing their memories.

Well, sealing, but the tattoo-a Fuinjutsu tailored by a Yamanaka of the second generation-could only be applied willingly. Kakashi had, for most of his life, had a single tongue of flame painted across his right arm.

Until he didn't.

It was a normal day when he realized, but it made little difference when or how. If you were curious, though, he had slept without a shirt and had realized upon entering the restroom in the morning. Two tongs of flame sat where one had originally lay alone. He had subjected himself to another wipe. About what, he had no clue.

Probably for the best, that bit.

But, even as he didn't know what he had 'deleted' did he have a theory.

The councilman Danzo had died, nearly a month ago. It was discovered that he had continued operations of Root against direct orders, and the normal-'What fucking temperature was hell dipping to that ANBU is considered normal?'-Anbu were overflowing with whispered rumors. Rumors of younger Root survivors escaping with fear-filled screams and panicked babblings of a Monster.

He was curious, in the worst kind of way.

But then, those whispers were very quickly being denied to him. About a week after the event, he slipped into HQ like he normally did, but something was wrong. Whenever his comrades looked at him, they perked up, walked closer, and froze. Whatever they had been about to say or do was aborted, and they bid hasty retreats.

Curious, but not unfamiliar. Still weird, though.

It was rather simple to pick up the obvious trail. He knew, or at least had known, what happened to Danzo and his Root, perhaps even witnessed it, and had wanted to forget it so bad he subjected himself to a second seal, and his comrades knew that he used to know, but saw the seal and backed off.

Which was a little discomforting.

He hadn't been stared at like this since...since Obito. Since Rin. Gods above, how his heart ached for that girl, and that poor boy. Perhaps it was for the best, however, that they couldn't see him now.

He told himself that so often it barely made his heart flicker.

Hm. Perhaps...perhaps it was time. Yes, perhaps indeed…

-The same time, Under Konoha's southeastern district-

It was weird, being near so many people who had, for the longest time, been characters I'd seen shifted and turned and interpreted in millions of ways. Weird, but welcome.

"Everything alright, Venom?" Sakura asked, flipping through a small fantasy book in Orochimaru's library.

Why it was here, neither of us wanted to know.

"I'm fine," I responded, curling tighter around her stomach, watching the sole window in the room, and the feet that drifted past it in inconsistent tempos. "Just...thinking." I finally allowed.

"About home?" She asked, turning the page with a faint grin at the doubtlessly silly tale.

"You are much too perceptive." I snarked with a chuckle, sliding back under her skin as she finished the short, yet sweet, book and set it back on the shelf. With a dainty groan, she hauled herself back up, working out the kinks in her back before I set to soothing them myself. A quick flicker of thankfulness drifted across our bond, and she set for the door, slipping out into the maze of corridors and rooms that was Orochimaru's fifteenth sub-lab.

I had very pointedly stopped Sakura from exploring too deep.

At the moment, Sakura wanted to talk with the Madman himself about some training thing or the other-I was distracted, don't judge me-and so we were wandering towards his main office, where he probably was. I was mildly curious as to why he had an office-

Behind us!

I exploded from Sakura's back, catching the knife that almost rammed into her shoulder handle-first. At the end of the hall, there was a woman, who drew in a sharp breath and vanished mere milliseconds after I caught the blade and glared at her. That was...that was weird. It looked almost like…

Like she recognized me.

But that couldn't be right...could it?

No. It was shock, not recognition. Obviously. I was just reading into it…

Right?

Her eyes never left my mind for the rest of the day.

It wasn't possible, it wasn't.

I was alone here, in this Shinobi world.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . . Right?

A/N: I know, it's short and ends on a cliffy. The WORST kind of chapter, but I needed to update you lovely folks on the good news. My arm is gonna be saved! It'll take a while, but soon, I'll be up to full...to ME again. Thank you, all of you, for your endless help and bottomless support. I love you, to the last, my loyal, fellow readers. Have a wonderful night.