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electrasev5nwrites · 9 months

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Ninja Daily: Clarity 17

"I see that Shizune-san has been taking you around," the blond man said calmly. He was making slightly uncomfortable eye contact, but the soothing quality of his voice and demeanor kept her from feeling too trapped. "How is her company?"

Aiko shrugged one shoulder, still clad in Shizune's kimono. "She seems kind." She paused. "Very helpful and professional. At least outwardly less bizarre than everyone else I've met." She crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table, unable to get completely comfortable wearing so much more fabric than usual. It was a little too warm, especially in a room with no air circulation. Shizune must be a terribly civilized person to wear a pretty kimono everywhere.

A tiny wrinkle formed between the man's eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yepp." She popped the 'p' sound and raised one eyebrow, pretending that her heart wasn't thumping against her chest. "I met the Godaime-Hottie, Jiraiya-sama, and some really grumpy medic who sucks at hide and seek. Also he hit me with a clipboard," she tattle-tailed confidentially, leaning forward and lowering her voice. "I think he has temper problems."

He'd kept a straight face throughout her recitation of thoroughly inappropriate commentary, but the strangest expression crossed Ponytail's features for just a moment at the last bit. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said delicately, folding his hands on the table. "I believe that the young man you speak of would be Tsunade-sama's apprentice, Sasuke-san. You have been acquainted with him in the past."

Aiko shrugged, pretending not to notice the way his voice lilted up in a subtle invitation for her to pursue that line of conversation. She didn't care one way or the other about the grumpy medic, and certainly didn't care to hear about the fun times they'd had back in the good old days that she couldn't remember. She was just trying to get a reaction out of her interrogator to get a measure of his character. The man had to be more than he seemed to be. He didn't appear terribly intimidating. It might have been the bedazzled purple scrunchie he was rocking, though.

'Everyone here is eccentric. Obito was right about that at least.'

"In any case." Ponytail coughed once, gracefully letting the last topic go. "You may call me Inoichi. I thought that we would talk for a while about your recent experiences and thoughts. How does that sound, Aiko-san?"

'Awful. How about we not do that?'

Aiko leaned back in her hard metal chair, scuffing her foot back and forth across the concrete floor. "Fine with me, Ponytail."

He didn't so much as blink, which was off-putting. He wasn't reacting like he should be and she didn't like that. He was hard to read. "Alright. Why don't you tell me about your time out of the village?"

That was such an open-ended question that Aiko didn't know what to do with it. She opened her mouth, and felt her eyebrows furrow.

'How do I sum up a year of my life? I don't even know what he wants to hear.'

Slowly, she rubbed a palm against her thigh, resisting the urge to glance down when her hand didn't run over a weapons pouch with the motion. Of course it didn't. They'd taken away all her weapons.

Ponytail gracefully pulled her out of her head with a soothing hum, still sounding perfectly calm and unconcerned. "That's fine, Aiko-san. We can try another tack. When you were brought into the village, you were not in the best physical condition," he prompted. Hay-yellow lashes caught the dim light when he blinked slowly. "What happened that day? We do have some questions that you could possibly help us fill in about an encounter that the shinobi who rescued you had. Hatake-san theorized that your injuries had been inflicted by Akatsuki. Is that accurate?"

Something gnawed in her chest at that clinical summation. "Yes."

'but it was an accident.'

She swallowed the defensive reaction, letting him assume the worst of Obito. Aiko genuinely had been trying to leave Akatsuki: that was what she should rhetorically emphasize. Obito could look after his fuckin self, apparently. He didn't need her help.

"When most of Akatsuki left, I attacked the man who was watching me and tried to leave. There were … complications, and I didn't go fast enough before he came back."

It was all true, but the words tasted sour rolling off her tongue. Aiko was too caught in her thoughts to notice that Inoichi's gaze sharpened at the subtle emphasis she put on 'he'.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ponytail sympathized.

'Me too.'

Inoichi nodded to Keiko politely as he passed her to enter Tsunade's office. Jiraiya had apparently been downgraded to 'doorstop' sometime recently. He wasn't excelling at the job. The toad sannin let go slightly too early, nearly letting the door shut on Inoichi before leaning against the wall.

Having a conversation with an S-level shinobi at his back would have been an unsettling experience for many shinobi, but Inoichi didn't bat an eye. "Hokage-sama," he greeted. When he pulled up from an immaculately proper 45 degree bow, she was regarding him impassively.

"Inoichi-san." Tsunade-sama shuffled the papers on her desk, ostensibly so that she was looking at Aiko's file. "Please proceed with your findings."

He'd already planned how he would summarize his report, so he easily complied. "In my opinion, Uzumaki-san isn't a threat to Konoha's interests. With the proper treatment, she can be re-acclimated to her old position. In time, she may even regain the majority of her memories. The question of whether or not she will be ready to put on a show for Konan-san's trial is less certain, however."

"Why?" Tsunade-sama folded her hands, not paying her papers one bit of attention. "You implied that she's relatively stable."

"I didn't say that," Inoichi corrected mildly. A pale face swam across his mind's eye with the same cautiously blank expression the girl had worn for most of her interview. "At the moment, she's far from it. The leader of Akatsuki did a great deal to ensure that she was emotionally invested in his interests and person. She has built him up to an infallible, near mythic status in her mind. He was the center of her world and her most important person." Tsunade curled one side of her lip in revulsion, so Inoichi hurriedly added, "In a platonic sense." He cleared his throat, and pitched his voice back down again. "Uzumaki-san was injured after she attempted to leave Akatsuki, which would indicate that she is unlikely to return to him willingly. However, she thinks it is inevitable that he will find her again, and even looks forward to it. Uzumaki-san wants to settle some sort of grudge."

Jiraiya snorted. "That's vague."

"That was one of the topics she was cautious to avoid." Inoichi spread out his hands, palms up. "On the whole, she was forth-coming with what she thought I wanted to hear. Uzumaki-san isn't hiding much, but she definitely does not trust Konoha's benevolence. I chose not to push. She was already aware that she is a Konoha kunoichi and assumed that she would be required to resume that role in time. As she begins to feel more comfortable and trusting, she will open up."

"How do I make that happen?" Tsunade asked seriously. A bit of breeze from the open window behind her rustled her hair over her shoulders. "She might have information about Akatsuki that could help us keep Naruto safe."

Ignoring the spontaneous Hero Wind, Inoichi cast his mind back to exactly what he had concluded. "I respectfully suggest that you assign her to a Yamanaka mind expert working in collaboration with an expert in trauma and repression in order to do what we can to prompt her memories and encourage her to ruminate on the ones that she has re-acquired. Other than that, keep her in the village and with other Konoha shinobi in order to re-integrate her. She will need to re-learn social norms. Her viewpoint is very much skewed by what Akatsuki chose to expose her to."

The Sannin exchanged glances that gave away little, but some of the tension in the muscles around Jiraiya's eyes relaxed.

After he realized no one else was going to speak, Inoichi cleared his throat. "It's going to be a slow process and she needs to make overtures on her own. Uzumaki-san chose to leave Akatsuki because she realized that her supposed friend had intentionally cultivated a relationship with the intention of manipulating her. Anyone who reaches out to her will be viewed with similar suspicion. She's going to be misbehaving and pushing boundaries," he warned. "Uzumaki-san is waiting for the other shoe to drop and see Konoha expose less than altruistic intentions. Let her make the first overtures of interest, but be sure that someone is ready to talk to her about anything or anyone she expresses interest in."

Tsunade sighed, letting her bangs cover her face and rubbing at a temple, but her lips twitched. "So, we definitely won't be locking her in a room with her brother and letting him use the power of love on her."

Inoichi somehow kept a straight face. "She might actually run screaming if he did. I gained the impression that excessive honesty and expressions of affection are difficult for Uzumaki-san."

That almost wasn't worth commenting on. That was true for almost every shinobi.

"So she's basically the same person. She just doesn't remember why she should give any of us the time of day and has a new, debilitating mistrust of people who are nice to her," Tsunade summarized dryly. Jiraiya gave an uncomfortable cough from the back of the office.

"Also puppets for some reason," Inoichi said contemplatively.

There was a beat of silence while Jiraiya's eyebrows shot up at that bit of trivia.

"No, that's an old issue." Tsunade dismissed. She folded her hands and rested her chin on them. "So, where should we put her? I can't leave her in the hospital. Her old landlord could probably find a place for her, but that wouldn't provide enough supervision. She might have to go back to stay with Naruto and Karin..." The Hokage trailed off at the grimly amused shake of Inoichi's head.

"Not unless you think they will be able to treat her as a stranger and not push for an emotional attachment before she was ready to reciprocate." The grimace Tsunade didn't hide was almost expected. That was what he had thought. "She has to have space to be alone when she wants to be," Inoichi cautioned. "If she's knows that she is under watch all day, Uzumaki-san is going to snap. After a few days, someone can suggest that she go home as long as they don't pressure her. Other than that, I would put her with someone she isn't threatened by and give her a schedule to keep with a set training partner. Probably someone that she's already met so that she isn't being overwhelmed with new people."

Tsunade slowly let one eyebrow rise, not in the mood for guessing games.

"If you were to ask her opinion," Inoichi sighed. "I'm relatively certain that she'll request to stay with Shizune-san." He ticked off possibilities on a hand. "Your other apprentice seems to have bludgeoned her with a clipboard, she finds you intimidating, and putting her with Jiraiya-sama would be a terrible idea." He could all but feel the older man welling up with indignation, but he remained firm and explained his position. "She is under the mistaken impression that Jiraiya-sama is a writer of considerable talent. Given the chance to learn from and emulate his behaviors-"

"Shizune it is," Tsunade interrupted in a strange sort of tone that implied her throat was closed up. She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "Although she doesn't have time to train Aiko; she's far too busy getting ready for when I have to leave. I'll give that duty to someone else."

There was a moment of sullen silence. "I'm offended by that whole conversation," Jiraiya muttered, kicking the wall. "You can't keep me away from her, anyway. You need me to help her get Hiraishin back so that no one else knows something is wrong. My goddaughter is the only one that has taste."

"Bad taste," Tsunade said firmly.

Inoichi shrugged mildly, ready to go back to his home. "She also referred to you as the 'Godaime Hottie.'"

Tsunade paused for a moment, and amended, "Her literary taste is bad." Her lips twitched.

Yamanaka Inoichi hastily left, trying not to hear the sound of breaking glass behind him or Tsunade-sama ordering her old teammate not to look so damn smug.

That night, Aiko stepped cautiously through the doorway that her guide held open. This wasn't her first choice- she'd much rather be alone- but it was much better than going back to the hospital or interrogations. Or staying out on the street. There were just so many people and the skin on the back of her neck wouldn't stop prickling. It felt like they were staring, though she hadn't caught anyone at it.

'I want to go home.'

She closed her eyes, just for a moment and took a steadying breath.

'Not that I have a choice.'

She should behave. Whatever impression she left on Shizune could influence how these people treated her and how long she was forced to see their hack psychologists. It couldn't be an accident that she had been sent to live with the Hokage's assistant. The woman she had been given to was influential.

With that in mind, she resolved to step carefully.

Her mouth tasted sour. "Thank you for having me." Aiko shucked the clear plastic sandals that someone had found for her at the door, peering into Shizune-san's warm, sunny home. Like most Konoha citizens, she lived in an apartment complex. Most of them couldn't be this swanky, however. From what she could see, it was a sprawling open room filled with bamboo, tiny bonsai trees, and tanks filled with little orange goldfish.

'Of course the Hokage's apprentice doesn't live like everyone else.' Aiko gave the least obvious sniff that she could, noting that the faint scent of Shizune's floral shampoo and the tang of hospital air-freshener prevailed. Well. The poor woman probably couldn't do a thing about that aspect of feng shui.

"It's no problem at all. I hope you don't mind that I don't have a proper guest room. I have a futon that will fit well in my office." Shizune padded ahead of her barefoot, running a hand through her hair. "Would you like anything to drink? I'm sure that Inoichi-san kept you talking." She sounded rueful. "He's chatty."

'Yes, he is.'

Aiko purposefully refrained from commenting and made a noncommittal sound as she followed her hostess to the doorway of the kitchen. That… was a lot of counter space. Aiko raised her eyebrows, not trying to hide that she was impressed. If she had made a prediction, Aiko would have guessed that Shizune's home was as utilitarian as she seemed to be. That was not so. If anything, it seemed like a zen sanctuary.

'She's confident in her abilities. No one who wasn't would live in a home with big windows like that.'

While Shizune's back was turned, Aiko palmed a kitchen knife off the counter and slipped it under her obi. It was good to have steel in her hands again. "Whatever you have would be fine," she said belatedly when Shizune gave her a questioning look. The older kunoichi returned from the fridge with a carton of juice a moment later.

She liked Shizune reasonably well, and the fact that the older woman went to bed early did give her a comfortable amount of space. Aiko still slept with her filched knife hidden under her pillow. She would have felt much better if they hadn't taken away her weapons and gear. Uneasy, she tossed and turned for a hideously long time, considering and discarding nervous predictions about what the next day would bring.

'If I don't piss them off, they'll have to give me my things back. Or something comparable. They don't have me here out of the kindness of their hearts- they'll want me to work eventually. I can't do that in a hand-me-down dress with my bare hands.'

Morning dawned with oppressive brightness into Shizune's flat. Aiko woke suddenly, muscles tense and still for a long minute before she realized that she was alone.

The knife was gone. In its place was a well-worn sleeping cap in the shape of a walrus. She picked it up and gave it a quick sniff, frowning. The scent it carried was… comforting, safe. Her head reeled. Aiko barely noticed burying her nose in the soft fabric to breathe it in. Lavender detergent, spiced shampoo, and a little bit of sweat that hinted at the personal chemistry of the person who'd worn it. Someone male and young. She closed her eyes. It had to mean something. Someone was making a point. Someone who could reach under her head without waking her was trying to make a point.

'I don't get it.'

She tossed the thing aside and tried not to focus on the way her stomach lurched.

Still clad in Shizune's extra dress, Aiko made her way out to the kitchen where Shizune was seated with a newspaper and a cup of coffee from some shop with a cheerful blue logo. She glanced up and then tilted her head toward the counter where another beverage sat. "I didn't know what you like, so I just got you a cappuccino. I hope that's alright."

'The hell is a cappuccino?'

Aiko nodded and took her drink to the table. She took one sip and carefully controlled her features.

'Awful. That's what it is. It's mind-bendingly bad.'

Subtly, she scraped her tongue against her upper teeth to try to get the taste off. Shizune didn't look up from her paper, clearly preoccupied with whatever was going on in the inner pages.

"I have work in an hour and a half. Do you know what you would like to do for the day?" Paper rustled as Shizune flipped over to another section, glancing over at Aiko for a moment. She somehow looked perfectly composed even though it was five in the morning.

When was the last time she'd been awake before seven? Aiko couldn't help but remember that she hadn't brushed her teeth and that her hair was probably one big knot. Self-consciously, she poked at her hair. Yes. It was matted in the back. Why wouldn't it be?

Shizune's voice sounded wryly amused. "Ah. Yes. I'm afraid I don't have time to take you out, but you definitely need supplies. I'll request a budget from Tsunade-sama and have someone sent over who will accompany you."

"I can shop on my own," Aiko rebutted sharply, puffing up.

'What does she think, I'll get lost in the scary new village? I'm not a child.'

"I know," Shizune said mildly. "But someone who knows where the shinobi outfitters are would be a helpful guide, and they might as well keep you company while I'm gone. It'll probably be one of Tsunade-sama's poor beleaguered Chuunin assistants. They would prefer carrying your groceries to running messages and filing."

Aiko didn't buy the implication that she would be doing anyone a favor but relented, shaking her head. Pride was nice, efficiency was nicer. "Fine." She blew air out of the side of her mouth and deflated. "What time should I expect this person?"

Shizune shrugged one shoulder. "Half an hour to an hour after I leave, perhaps. If you can't wait, you can shower with my things and pull another dress out of my closet."

Sharing soap? She couldn't be serious. Aiko skated right past that suggestion. She'd never shared basic hygiene supplies before and she wasn't about to start. That was just a little weird. She didn't want to smell like Shizune.

Waiting half an hour didn't sound so bad. She could wait a while to take care of basic hygiene and try not to ruminate on who had washed the rock dust and blood off her body while she'd been unconscious (or why she sort of smelled like hand sanitizer). What was another half an hour of ickness against the luxury of getting her own clothes and shampoo?

Of course, Shizune turned out to be a big fat liar. The man who showed up two hours later was almost certainly not some beleaguered Chuunin. He wore the Konoha flak jacket, yeah, but no Chuunin moved like that.

Also, she recognized him.

"Yo." Hatake 'Bakashi' raised a single palm on the other side of Shizune's doorway. He was slouched casually, but he still loomed over her.

The man that Obito had thought about as some weird rival didn't look like a mouth-frothing friend-killer, but looks could be deceiving.

Her fingers tightened on the door. He could well be very dangerous, no matter that he'd been her teacher at some point. Everything she'd been told indicated so.

On the other hand, she wasn't proscribing to Obito's worldview anymore- so that one-sided rivalry might be a good sign so far as Hatake's character went. He might be a really nice guy who hugged puppies and big fluffy bunnies.

She stalled for a moment, paralyzed in the face of making that judgment with so little information. Her heart was pounding and breath didn't want to come. Air, where was the air gone to?

Bakashi tilted his head slightly in inquiry, his hand falling back to his side.

Aiko shut the door in his face and locked it.

'Nope. Not dealing with that right now.'

There was a knock a few seconds later, as if he was mildly confused. She ignored it and went to take a shower, fed up with waiting in yesterday's clothes.

Floral scented bath luxuries weren't that awful. It could be worse, Aiko reminded herself firmly, pretending she wasn't rubbing someone else's handtowel on her skin. But- ugh, it was so unsanitary. With a shudder, she turned off the water and fled as soon as humanly possible, heart pounding a tattoo against her throat.

Stupid. She had bigger problems. Like the fact that she was supposed to be meeting someone for a training session in two hours. Would Konoha decide they didn't want her if she wasn't up to par?

Aiko chewed on her lower lip and tried to soothe the roiling in her gut with tea. She ended up pouring most of it down the drain and pacing in the small space available.

'I have to impress whoever they send. I don't want to find out what will happen if they don't want me anymore.'

The next time someone was at the door, the man on the other side was less visibly suspicious than Bakashi. He offered her a slightly crooked smile, displaying vividly white teeth.

'Someone listened to their mom when she said to brush three times a day. That smile is beautiful. He should be on posters. It's almost unreal.'

Actually, with the rock-solid build, square jawline, and painfully wholesome aura that her visitor owned, he looked shockingly like-

"You look like an underwear model," Aiko said bluntly, tilting her head to the side. "Are you?" Her foot tapped against the floor with poorly restrained nervous energy. This was the person she was supposed to fight? Was she supposed to be able to beat him? Could she? Hard to tell.

He didn't even blink. "Hello, Aiko-san," came the calm reply. "I'm Yamato, a Jounin shinobi of Konohagakure, and the Hokage has asked me to assess your current level. Are you ready to go?" His hair, somewhere between 'clean-cut' and 'intentionally messy', did not waver in the breeze from the open window in the stairwell. She suspected hair gel.

'A Jounin, huh? So, that's a tentative no to the underwear thing, but I'm still nursing suspicions.'

"Sure." Aiko placed a palm in the center of his chest and propelled him out of the way, using the grip to roughly gauge his musculature. Her free hand pulled the door shut behind her with a soft click. "Lead on, Nadeshiko."

'He's got a lot of muscle on me. I think he's physically stronger than Obito even. Close ranger fighter, or something that involves heavy work.'

He might be slow, then. Slow-twitch, bulky muscle could weigh down a shinobi. Then again, she probably wasn't supposed to kill him and most of her techniques were lethal by design to avoid a drawn out fight. Damnit.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Yamato protested mildly, disentangling her hand from his vest and turning to jog down the stairs. "That pun finally died out a few months back and I was glad to see it go."

'Someone else beat me to that? I thought it was a good pun.'

Her expression soured, just a bit. "Yamato it is." The last of her quietly spoken words were nearly swallowed by the wall of sound that washed over them when Yamato pulled open the door. A hot wave of air carried in hundreds of murmuring voices, the groaning of wagon wheels, and distant shrieking from happy children.

'It's awful.'

She had to steel herself to take the first step outside into the fray.

It was positively surreal. How had she gone from living with Obito to… to here, in this crowded mess of a city?

"I can't help but notice that you seem to be underequipped." Yamato paused for a moment on the stoop before he pushed out into the crowd, rubbing at his jaw with a finger. "Is that… intentional?"

Aiko twitched, rubbing her index finger against her thumb. "No," she said shortly. "Shizune said that someone would take me to get equipment, but the person who showed up was so sketchy that I shut the door in his face."

Yamato made a small sound of agreement, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. "Ah. Suh-keh-chi?" he asked carefully, as though the syllables were slightly foreign to him.

"Very." She flicked her gaze up to his profile, matching her stride to his and keeping a little closer to his side than she would like. He was pretty good at clearing a path through the throngs of people out doing their shopping. "Bad posture, messy hair, suspicious mask, and he was definitely not a Chuunin. Shizune told me to expect a Chuunin. I detected shenanigans and locked the door." She carefully did not contemplate that her reasons had been rather more personal than his unkempt, seriously suspect appearance. Yamato didn't need to know that. Aiko skirted slightly behind Yamato for a moment to avoid a woman carrying a large basket before darting back out to catch up.

'Wow, there are a lot of people out. I don't think I've been to anywhere that even sort of compares in terms of population density. Are all shinobi villages like this? They're packed in like animals.'

Yamato swallowed, face painfully blank. "I suppose it is important not to wander off with suspicious characters."

"Oh, definitely," Aiko agreed, watching two scruffy children race, both holding what appeared to be younger siblings on their shoulders. "Come to think of it, I probably should have made sure you were the right person; but you just don't seem that suspicious and you were actually on time."

"Your caution does you credit," he managed in a slightly higher, stiff tone.

'I was serious. Is he making fun of me?' She shot a suspicious glance up at her companion, managing to nearly blind herself on a glint of light from his metal face-place. That did make it harder to read his face. Maybe that was why he had it?

A flash of purple stapled to a telephone pole caught her eye- an advertisement for some kind of festival game calling for registration, apparently. Aiko looked at it a moment longer than strictly necessary, more interested than the sheet warranted.

'Why do I want to sign up? Am I suddenly eight or something?'

"Aiko-san?" She started guiltily and stepped quickly to catch back up, noting the tension in her escort's well-muscled neck.

Her face colored. "I'm here, I'm here."

Yamato made a humming sound, but paid more attention to her after that. Gradually the crowds thinned and the buildings transitioned from brightly-painted, oddly shaped multi-story affairs to sprawling traditional homes interspersed with occasional tall gates, numbered from 18 to 24. Yamato took her to gate 25 and pushed it open with a tap of chakra and a palm to display tall, healthy grass sprawling over a lightly hilled area. A cluster of trees in the distance cut off her sight.

'This is a Konoha training ground?' Aiko sucked on her lower lip, taking it in. It looked more like a small park than anything. She could smell the fresh scent of fast-moving water somewhere nearby to the east.

'Fancy.' She couldn't help but sneer, just a little bit. 'Obito and I did just fine with the backyard and mountain steppes by our safehouses. You don't need a specially designed field.'

Then again, when you lived in an industrial area, maybe you did. If Konoha hadn't specially set aside land, their shinobi wouldn't have any room to workout. In other words…

'I'm kind of an insufferable snob.'

Chastened by her own thoughts, Aiko scratched behind her ear and ducked her head a bit. Yamato was closing up the field- probably to ensure that no one else wandered into the middle of their practice and risked bodily harm.

"So." She spun slowly to survey the area, clasping her fingers in front of her body. "What are we trying to accomplish?"

"Today, I think we'll just gauge your current level. Without your weapons you won't be fighting at one hundred percent, so don't feel too pressured."

Aiko nodded, acknowledging that she understood.

'Oh, that's good. Not as much pressure as I'd thought. Konoha is a little soft.'

That was good, though. She didn't want to have to use her Rinnegan. No one had asked about her eyes. Maybe they didn't know.

She moved to settle into an athletic stance, and jolted back into reality when the tight material of Shizune's dress restricted her movement around her ankles. That was going to be annoying. Actually… Aiko bent to hitch the fabric up, tying it to the side against her thigh.

A high-pitched "urp" sound eeked out of Yamato's throat. She jerked up to see what was wrong, only to see that he was pointedly looking away from her.

"What's the matter with you?" Aiko frowned, finishing tying the ends of Shizune's kimono and checking her range of movement now. Not great, but okay.

"Nothing." Yamato coughed, clearing his throat. "Nothing is wrong."

With an eye-roll, she slipped into a defensive stance. "Just attack me already." She still didn't want to attack him. She didn't have her weapons, any poison, and jutsu could be too dangerous. She'd never fought with anyone other than Obito that she didn't want to kill. She didn't know how to be safe with them.

Instead of arguing, Yamato flowed forward in a surprisingly swift movement to engage her in taijutsu with a low kick. She jumped over the side-sweeping leg and darted behind him, ducking under the punch that followed when he twisted after her.

'I was wrong. He's not slow.'

He wasn't as fast as Obito, though, and that was good enough. Some motions were closer than others, but she managed to move away from every blow. After a few minutes she gritted her teeth and made an offensive movement of her own, throwing a technically perfect but underwhelming punch. He bent over backwards at the waist and moved into a flip, nearly managing to clip her well with a double-kick. She moved back so fast that she felt whiplash, fuzzy spots crawling over her vision.

"Stop." Yamato tossed his head some time later, as if to get sweaty bangs off his face. Again, his hair remained still. Definitely gelled into place, then. "Let's try ninjutsu." He had to have read the trepidation on her face but he widened his stance and held his hands in a seal. "Wood style!"

'Wait, what?'

She froze, mind sputtering on what she was seeing instead of picking a counter technique. The material that rocketed at her was much darker and thicker than Obito's vines, but it was the same technique.

'This can't be that common. I know Yamato. He's the training partner that I thought of when Obito first used this on me.'

The instant of hesitation cost her- her mind blanked on a suitable ninjutsu, and she threw her body out of the way instead. The wood curled back at her, giving her barely enough time to side-step and brace a hand on it to flip over.

"Aiko?" Yamato called out, confused. "Use ninjutsu. How about your chakra chains?"

Oh. That'd work. She jumped backwards, welling chakra along her spine.

Using her chakra chains was more annoying than anything, really. They were bulky and kind of clunky- not really fast enough to cut through the wood ninjutsu that Yamato could hurl at her (and that explained his physical strength, wood was heavy). Aiko ended up doing almost as much dodging as before, carefully positioning herself so that she could make token swipes that cut at the seemingly never-ending barrage her training partner could summon up.

Yamato only called a halt once her breath was coming in ragged gasps and sweat was tickling at her hairline, slipping behind an ear. She ducked her head to rub at the trickle with a shoulder. One hand trailed down to tug at the kimono where it was sitting heavy and lopsided against her leg. Kami, that was hot. She needed to get some shorts before she had to do this again. Shizune was nuts, just totally nuts.

Politely, her training partner averted his eyes while she fiddled with her clothes. He wasn't as worn out, but then again, he'd been more stationary. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He scratched at an arm, fingers slipping under the sleeves he had rolled up to his forearms.

'I would rather shower than eat, but I'm still short on clothes.' Aiko tried not to be too obvious about plucking the dirty, sweaty material of the kimono away from her chest.

In the corner of her eye, she could see Yamato glance at her with poorly hidden amusement. She couldn't blame him.

"You'll take me to get some things after?" she prodded.

His closed-mouth smile was even cuter than the big boy-next-door one. "If you don't think I'm too suspicious."

She reared back and punched him in the arm, a little vexed when he didn't even try to dodge. "Shut up and take me to dinner."

Dinner turned out to be at a cozy barbeque joint, fragrant with burning woods and heavy spices. Yamato took a four-person table by the back of the restaurant and glanced over at the kitchen. As if summoned by ninjutsu, a long-limbed teenager appeared at their table with a notebook and a bedazzled pen that tap, tap, tapped against the paper.

"Water for me."

Aiko glanced up through her lashes, still preoccupied by the menu. "I'll have a dark cola."

Their tanned, androgynous waiter gave a little headshake to coerce loose bangs out of the way, not even bothering to scribble their order. They heaved an enormous sigh that pulled the white fabric of their uniform across their chest. "I would love to get that for you."

She pressed her lips together to keep from smirking at the unenthused lie. Yamato's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything until they were alone again.

"You must have been doing a lot of work." He fiddled with his menu, rubbing at the laminated paper with a thumb. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."

'He used to know me.' Aiko furrowed her brow and tried to read his expression. 'How well? Are we friends or just training partners? I can't tell.'

For a moment, she really wanted to ask. If she could believe what he'd tell her, she would have. Aiko gave a noncommittal grunt, shrugging one shoulder.

"You're light on your feet," Yamato tried again. His gaze flicked up to the returning waiter and he accepted his drink in the same motion that he pointed out his order. "Thank you." Seamless, he looked back to her. "I think we should work on your blocking and offense, however. You're hesitant. Is it a lack of aggression, or-?"

Aiko shook her head, pulling her lips off her straw. "No. I just didn't want to hurt you. The blocking is a fair assessment, I prefer to move out of the way."

That, and that Obito hadn't wanted her to get into those close-range fights. That had been remarkably short-sighted of him, now that she thought about it. Was that really how his 'Rin' had been? She curled a lip. Not impressive.

"That's not always plausible or practical." Yamato twisted his drink, turning the cup so that the water inside swirled. "You should at least be comfortable with your ability to block and minimize impact when you can't move out of the way."

The sick sensation of flying occurred to her again. The moment of weightlessness before a painful fall down sharp rocks. Aiko took a sharp breath and clenched her jaw, breathing slowly to concentrate on the present. "Yeah."

'I can see my reflection in the table. That's clean.' The wavery girl blinked up at her, dark splotches growing and moving on the yellow ceramic with the motion. A white dish settled in front of her with a clatter to break the reverie. Steam washed up over her face.

"You were worried about hurting me?"

The question took a moment to register. When Aiko remembered what he was referring to, she blinked. "I just…" She shook her head slightly, prodding at her food.

"We can work on that." Yamato picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and let heat waft off of it. "Hesitance is normal when sparring with a new partner. You'll learn when to push and when to hold back."

The tension in her chest loosened. She nodded, putting something savory in her mouth so that she didn't have to come up with a response.

'He's just so freaking nice. Is this guy for real?'

The ambient noise of clattering dishes and quiet conversations was gone. Something was wrong. Aiko registered that Yamato's expression was more chagrinned than panicked as she twisted to view the restaurant. It wasn't hard to find the disturbance. Almost everyone in the place had stopped to look at two young men that had walked in. The patrons that weren't looking were carefully not looking. The only exception was some poor man pouring over what looked like papers in need of grading, tapping a pencil against the base of his high ponytail.

'What the hell is wrong with these new people? I'm the only international criminal I recognize here. If anything, I should be the one getting stared at.'

With a start, she realized that she recognized one of dark-haired young men. The slightly shorter figure was the grumpy medic nin. The other man could have been his brother- they had the same svelte build, pale skin, and dark eyes set over beautiful cheekbones. The new man was even cuter than his medic friend, but that might have been the lack of a scowl. He seemed stiff and miserable under the scrutiny.

Aiko couldn't help but remember the weight of stares on her back when she had walked with Shizune last night.

'Me too, buddy. Me too.'

She wouldn't have cared in the slightest, if the medic hadn't seen and gifted her with a curt nod that momentarily drew the crowd's attention to her. She was dismissed almost as quickly. Something about those men was mesmerizing, apparently.

'I don't see the appeal. They're attractive, but they're not that attractive. And this seems hostile, anyway. Something else is going on. No one stared at the grump before… So the problem is probably the other man.'

Aiko turned back to the table, but kept her ears pricked while the two men seated themselves only two tables away. In the still restaurant, the beginnings of their conversation were easily audible.

"When must you return to the hospital to complete your paperwork?"

People were still staring. Aiko could tell that even without looking up.

'Maybe they think that if they just ignore people long enough, people will ignore them?'

"Tomorrow afternoon. I took the morning off. You're coming with me to work with Sai's team." The medic's voice raised, losing warmth. "Can I get a menu?" Belatedly, he added, "Please," in a long-suffering tone.

Aiko stifled a snort, meeting Yamato's eyes. And then she couldn't look away, wondering at the deep concern she saw there. Was something actually wrong? Why was he looking at her like that?

The waitress's "Of course," seemed to break the wall of silence that had afflicted the restaurant. The murmur of conversation and clatter of dishware obscured that quiet, pointedly polite discussion from her hearing.

She turned her attention back to her food and took a big bite. Whatever was going on, it wasn't any of her business.

Yamato cleared his throat, blinking for the first time in what seemed like several minutes. "Ah. So, do you have any hobbies?"

Reading pornography. Small-time drug smuggling. Being the unwilling subject of an ocular fetish.

'No, none of that gives quite the right impression. I don't want him to think badly of me.'

"Amateur art critic."

His eyebrows shot straight up, composure lost.

Aiko kept a straight face. "Just last week, I reviewed the most unfortunate antique piece of statuary." She paused deliberately. "It was accidentally maliciously destroyed."

'That part, I don't regret, no matter how cranky the Hokage is about me releasing demons on our allies. I wouldn't ever do it again; too dangerous.' She paused. 'I mean, if I could teleport to safety like Obito, I would break that statue that over and over again. I would do that to a soundtrack and commission someone to take photos. The whole situation was deeply funny.'

She took a moment to picture herself posing next to two bijuu making a peace sign while ugly pottery fell around them like confetti. Just Aiko and her basics. No big.

'I'm going to regret the missed opportunity for the rest of my life, aren't I?'

The tension seeped out of his shoulders when she couldn't help but smile. He was probably under the mistaken impression that she had been telling a joke, but Aiko was willing to let it go. The only thing interrupting the moment was quiet coughing from a table behind her.

"Pity," Yamato said gravely, lifting his glass in a solemn toast to lost statuary.

The rest of her day was a bit of an emotional let-down. Konoha didn't want to get rid of her. They wanted to help her be the best she could be. The positivity and general goodwill wafting in her direction was sickening.

'If this is how Konoha treats people like me, maybe I should have been leery about the pretty boy. He must be a baby kicking lunatic. I mean, what do you have to do in this town to get a little fear and respect?'

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Shizune eyed her dubiously but walked along, only pausing to offer a polite bow to the frowning psychologist who had stood to watch Aiko stalk out, oversized shirt billowing behind her. Her lips thinned.

'She wanted me to re-examine my feelings and share them. It was that bad.'

She kicked off her slippers and shoved her feet into the terminally ugly blue sandals that Yamato had helped her find without pausing, throwing open the door. It was probably for the best that she didn't see Shizune exchange an amused look with the receptionist behind her.

"Perhaps you'll like the shinobi psychologist better," Shizune offered with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Aiko wilted at the reminder that she would be subjected to two different weekly appointments. There would be no escape, judging by the calm way her minder had shuffled her off to her first appointment.

'I underestimated Shizune. She's formidable. Why did I ever think that the Hokage was the probable threat?'

With that newfound resentment in mind, it was easier not to dissolve into a weeping pile of nerves while she waited outside the Hokage's office for her next appointment. When the door finally opened and she was shooed in, no one came out.

Apparently, the small crowd inside was going to lurk around while she had her interview. Lovely. Jiraiya-sama was there again, no big surprise. The other man present, on the other hand-

She nodded without making eye contact when Hatake raised a hand in greeting.

Fucking fantastic. There was no door to shut this time. She'd have to deal.

"Aiko, please make yourself comfortable." Under the Hokage's gaze, she didn't have the nerve to plop down on the same couch as last time. She backed against the side wall that Hatake wasn't at, wishing she could be anywhere else.

No one offered comment or let on to whatever thoughts they must have about her behaving like a trapped animal.

"I know you talked with Inoichi-san about your time with the Uchiha and Akatsuki." Godaime-Hottie tapped her pen against the desk in a slow staccato. "But I'd like to hear more, if you don't mind. The Akatsuki is largely disbanded, but if we don't act, Akatsuki will just be reformed with different nin."

"Obito is stubborn like that," Aiko agreed, using a sandal to scratch at the back of a calf. It took a moment to realize that everyone in the office was looking at her just a little too intensely. Hatake- no, Bakashi, 'Bakashi' made him seem much less threatening- seemed to desperately want to say something, but the Hokage got there first.

"You mean Madara," Tsunade corrected gently.

Aiko tried so, so hard not to roll her eyes because now was not the time for sass. "I think I know who I spent a year with, thanks. Madara is dead," she clipped out.

'Thank kami. If that's where Obito got his nutty plan, it's probably for the best that the old guy is gone.'

Bakashi shifted his weight. "He survived the fight with the Shodaime." His tone was carefully neutral. "To what end, we don't know, but he must have some plan."

"Right." At her easy acquiescence, the room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief just a little early. "He survived his fight with the hokage, and then he died, like a decade or two ago," Aiko said sensibly. That was still very old, but still. "I never asked for the timeline because frankly I didn't care and still don't, but he's super dead."

Above her head, Bakashi and Jiraiya exchanged troubled looks that they obviously thought she didn't see. She twitched at the condescending snub, one hand curling into a fist. The other grazed her thigh. There still wasn't a weapon there. They still didn't trust her with one. They didn't even trust her situational assessment and ability to remember what she'd been told; why would they arm her?

'What is the point in talking to these people if they don't believe what I say?' The only thing that kept her from stomping her foot was the vaguely conscious notion that acting childishly wouldn't convince anyone that she knew what she was talking about.

"Aiko," Jiraiya said gently. Far too gently. He sounded like he was talking to a child.

'I'm going to go home and burn all your stupid autographed books. I take back ever thinking you were cool.'

Somehow it hurt more when she remembered that she couldn't even do that. Her books were with Obito. She couldn't go home.

Her former warrior-poet idol looked at her with soulful eyes and let out an exhalation that seemed to shrink his enormous chest. "I'm sorry, but Uchiha Madara used that name to deceive you. Uchiha Obito is long dead. He was a casualty of the third war, and a loyal Konoha shinobi. He wouldn't have done what this man has. Uchiha Madara is using his body as a vessel. For Konoha's sake, he needs to be found. If there's anything of Obito left in there, we owe him our best efforts to free his soul so he can rest in peace." Counter to what he must have intended, his tone only sharpened her temper.

'Sentimental drivel. You sound like my freaking shrink.'

She bit her tongue and took a steadying breath, too frustrated to come up with a logical rebuttal at the moment. "Look," Aiko tried with patience she did not feel. "I spent a lot of time with him. I know him."

"Which is why you ran away from him," Jiraiya rebutted, frustration slipping into the rumble of his voice. "He's a dangerous man. You know that, Aiko. You can't protect him."

"I'm not trying to!" She could feel heat rising in her cheeks to match Jiraiya's moue of stubborn frustration. "But he's not evil. He's- he's unbalanced," Aiko stressed. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "He means well." Even she knew that was a losing argument, and her voice trailed off to nothingness. No one in the office looked the slightest bit sympathetic. Hatake looked like he might be ill if she kept trying to argue that his genin teammate was an international terrorist. Tsunade seemed more concerned for her mental well-being. If she kept arguing, Aiko was going to find herself back in Inoichi's tender care.

'They're not going to believe me.'

The irony of that took a moment to sink in. 'They think that I'm saying this because I'm emotionally compromised. Even if I wasn't, they wouldn't want to believe me because it's much easier to believe Uchiha Madara would be a villain than Obito. That's the emotional blockade getting in the way of communication.'

Of course, he wasn't a villain. Not exactly. He was ill and he needed help or to be put down and he might end up killing her but- but-

To be fair, from their perspective, his actions looked pretty fucking villainous. And if some chump tried to tell her that the man who had kidnapped them wasn't that bad, Aiko would think that person had Stockholm's syndrome, not a good point worth consideration.

Just a little bit of doubt tugged at her mind. What if- what if she never had known anyone but Madara? When she looked at it all that way, it seemed like her perception was the one likely to be skewed.

Aiko wrapped her arms around her chest and looked down at her feet, shaken and unwilling to argue anymore. If she couldn't trust her judgment… Did she even know anything?

'No. That was Obito. I know it in my gut. He's a lot of things, but he's got a core that's really genuine. Someone hurt him and twisted him and he needs help, but he's not a villain. He wouldn't have come up with the idea of putting everyone in a genjutsu on his own. And he didn't falsify they way he felt about his genin team. There would be no reason to tell me anything like that if he was Madara.'

"Aiko?" An oversized hand closed gently on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I yelled, kiddo."

"It's fine," she said mechanically, shaking off Jiraiya-sama's comforting grip. "What do you want to know?" The step she took had her back pressed against the wall. Thankfully, the toad sannin did not follow.

"Inoichi gave us what you know about active members of Akatsuki and contacts." The Hokage gracefully called all attention to herself, glamorous and composed. She blinked perfectly curled lashes. "Thank you for that, Aiko-chan."

(Chan? She tried not be bitter that she'd apparently been down-graded to a child.)

Tsunade stood, fluffing her hair as she turned to the window. "How many safehouses are you aware of? Could you locate them on a map?"

Aiko would have nodded, if the woman was looking at her. Instead she let out a sullen, "Four, yes."

'Not that it matters. Obito won't stay at any of them now. He's not stupid.'

The older woman must have had the same thought. She clasped her hands behind her back and ducked her head slightly. Her voice was lower when it came again. "Do you have any idea about what Uchiha's next course of action will be?"

"He didn't tell me much about his plans." Aiko wiggled her toes, tired of standing. "I didn't ask. I didn't care much. He wants- wanted," she corrected. "He wanted to collect all the bijuu and put them in his ugly statue and then use them to power a world-wide genjutsu."

Jiraiya gave a surprised curse, nearly dropping the kunai he had been balancing on a finger.

Slowly, Tsunade turned around to stare. "A world-wide genjutsu." Her voice was flat.

"I thought the plan could use some work," Aiko acknowledged easily. "Though to be fair, it's a hand-me-down plan from Madara."

Bakashi tensed, fingers drumming against his thigh.

The Hokage ignored her pointed reminder, glossing over their disagreement entirely. "You said this was a plan in the past tense?"

Aiko grimaced. "I may have taken bad advice from that Fuu woman and broken his statue. That's part of why he was pissed with me. It made a mess." She made an expansive gesture, shaking her head. "Rocks and bijuu everywhere."

Something broke when Jiraiya slapped his palm against the wall, falling to the floor before Aiko could see what it was. "What."

She stilled, uncertain about the sudden tension. Cautiously, she inclined her head slightly and eyed the adults. Her hand itched for a weapon that she still didn't have.

Damn, Jiraiya was close. And big. And the other two people in the room were S class shinobi. She was suddenly hyperaware of that.

Sensing her confusion, Hatake raised his palms in a gesture of peace. "We didn't know that was how the bijuu got out."

Tension was replaced by befuddlement. "What, really?" Aiko blinked.

'Oh my kami, they must really not think of me as a threat. I was the only person there. It shouldn't be shocking that I was involved in that.'

"Of course not," Godaime-Hottie said dryly. "I am suddenly thankful that the Suna representatives left. That gives us time to think of a plausible lie."

Aiko snorted, giving the blonde woman a thin smile for the first time.

'Not really. The jinchuuriki from Mizu and Taki both know. They were there right before I did it. It'd be hard to keep both of them quiet, and it's probably too late already.'

"But not that much time," Tsunade-Hottie continued, caution bleeding into her tone. "We have a lot to do, Aiko." She raised an eyebrow as one hand skimmed over to rest on her hip. "Are you aware of the upcoming trial of the Amegakure leader?"

"Something about breaking an international treaty?" Aiko rubbed the back of her neck. "I wasn't that interested."

"Get interested," Tsunade said bluntly, pointing a pen at her. "You're our star witness."

"Say what?"

Preview of the next chapter, where the tone changes a bit. Because people have probably been wondering what the fuck happened to Naruto.

Chapter 18

"Hey, Aiko!"

She halted mid-step in the lower lobby at a very loud, slightly raspy voice. The boy who'd come bounding out of the crowd was grinning toothily, pulling a one-handled bag off his shoulders.

"Hold up a minute, would you?" He didn't wait for a response, plopping the bag down and unzipping it in one motion. "I'm supposed to- I have your stuff," he amended, talking hastily. He scrunched up his nose in unconscious irritation with the strands of blonde hair that were hanging down into his eyes.

"You have my things?" Aiko repeated cautiously, frowning.

'Why does he have my things?'

"Yeah, I think baa-chan forgot," he said absently, pulling out a very familiar bit of red leather.

"My holster?" Aiko reached out, somehow unsurprised when he placed it in her hand without looking. In the work of a few moments she had it strapped on- no one had fiddled with the straps, so it was already fitted correctly.

"Yeah, I think there's some kunai and senbon in here too." With a careless clatter, the boy tipped the bag and collected the weapons that fell out. Someone had bound them together and polished them- they'd need to be unwrapped.

'This is strange, but… okay? I think it's okay.'

"Thanks," she said. She took the first package and began unraveling it, packing the freed weapons away. "So, um, you know my name…"

He flushed. "I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did, her fingers fumbled. A flash of pain was the only thing that told her she'd managed to cut her index finger on a bare blade.

'Uzumaki. That's my last name. He looks roughly my age. Obito said that there was only one other Uzumaki child in Konoha when the last jinchuuriki died and- and-'

She clenched her hand into a fist, pressing the leaking finger into her palm to stop the bleeding.

Dear kami, that was a jinchuuriki right there, not two feet away from her. Her heart jolted unpleasantly. A jinchuuriki, meaning a person who had another one of those bijuu in him.

A familiar acidic tang prickled in her nose and the feeling of dry heat, of slowly baking alive washed over her flesh. Fear. Helpless. Insignificant.

On some level, her mind was whimpering helplessly.

Did it- no he, she'd decided jinchuuriki were people- did he know that she'd helped kill jinchuuriki before? Was he holding a grudge? Was he-

He was awfully familiar. Actually.

"I think I know you," Aiko said carefully, giving a smile that she did not feel. "From the orphanage, right?"

For a moment, his face was very still. Then it cracked into a painfully bright smile, accompanied by a thumbs-up. "Yupp! We lived together up until we were fifteen or so."

'That's a long time.'

"Oh." Her mouth was dry. "That's nice. You, um." She fumbled for words, torn between wanting to be very polite and wanting to escape.

'Someone wants me to like him and to associate him with safety. That's why he's the person who gave me back my equipment. That's not a coincidence. Why does Konoha care? What do they want?'

"Want to get lunch?" Naruto asked hopefully, shouldering his deflated bag. "I'm heading out on a mission later today and I didn't pack a lunch, 'ttebayo."

God no. Never.

"Yeah. That sounds nice." Aiko forced leaden feet to move, keeping pace with Naruto's strides toward the door.

'He's related to me somehow. Probably pretty closely, since we share a last name and there are few Uzumaki. Should I ask? Is he emotionally compromised? He seems friendly. I don't think he's registered me as a threat.'

The place he took her to was a dinky ramen bar that had quite possibly survived an invasion or two, judging by the dents and pointedly fresh paint. A pretty serving girl greeted both of them –by name, that was so freaky- and immediately set to work on their order. As she walked away, Aiko curled her toes against the bar under her stool and looked at the counter.

They weren't the only patrons—an older couple was sitting further down, the taller man feeding his protesting boyfriend tonkatsu with a laugh. The other patrons seemed to be too busy to take a full lunch hour- while they waited on their order, no less than three people came by to pick up 'to-go' orders.

"Hey." Naruto looked as uncomfortable as she felt, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. "You alright?" He leaned slightly into her personal space to push her bowl down to her and- and-

That was a familiar scent. She eyed his vibrantly yellow hair, noticing a tiny braid peeking out from under his right ear. Other than that bit of order, it was a riotous mass. It was rather like how hers might be, if it wasn't long enough for truly exciting tangles to form.

"What shampoo do you use?"

Naruto blinked, face blank. "Uh. Cloves and something else. I just use what Karin buys me."

Aiko hmmed, breaking her chopsticks apart and fiddling with them. "Gotcha. So, um. A walrus?"

That appeared to utterly confound him. A noodle slipped out the side of his mouth.

Oddly, that helped. It was hard to feel intimidated by someone with food coming out of their mouth. He tilted his head and licked futilely at the soup escaping down his chin, blue eyes straining and failing to see the mess. "Your sleeping hat," she explained. "Someone gave it to me." Aiko shrugged. "I recognize your scent. I'm guessing that wasn't you?"

Naruto snorted and clapped a hand to his face to prevent any more liquid from escaping. He took a moment to laboriously swallow his enormous mouthful of food. "Socially challenged bastard," he mumbled, sounding fond. "No, um." His voice raised. "That wasn't me. It was meant to be helpful, I'm sure."

She didn't have anything to say, so she stuffed the boiled egg that had come with her meal into her mouth. Her eyes watered almost instantly. Hot. Her bowl was too hot. As soon as she had swallowed, Aiko grabbed for her water.

"How are you doing?" Naruto burst out in a rush of air. He glanced at her under his bangs and then jerked his gaze back to the countertop.

"Um." Aiko set down her chopsticks and interlocked her fingers on her lap. "I'm fine." In a moment of uncharacteristic honesty, she stared into the depths of her ramen bowl and admitted, "This just feels surreal. You know? Like this last week is a weird dream and I'm about to wake up."

Naruto nodded slowly, licking off his chopsticks. "But not a bad dream, right?"

She hesitated. "It's not a good dream, but it's not exactly puppets and zombies either."

"Well… I'm glad to hear that, I guess." He flashed a smile at her, holding a hand up to signal for another bowl. The waitress must have been expecting that because she quickly fluttered over to switch out bowls. "It'll get better. You're staying with Shizune-chan, ne?"

"Mm," Aiko nodded. "Yepp. She's alright. Kinda strict, though." Her intuition had been right the first day, when she had thought that Shizune would be difficult to budge on the whole 'mental health care' thing. There was just no arguing with that woman.

Naruto gave a surprised laugh, interrupted in the middle of blowing on his ramen to cool it. "If she wasn't, we wouldn't get anything done," he shared mischievously. "Baa-chan is crazy smart and cool and stuff, but she lacks in organizational thought. Shizune-chan makes sure the day to day stuff gets done."

'…Wait. Is 'Baa-chan' the Hokage?'

Her lips twitched. Maybe she could see them being related. That nickname was flippantly inappropriate enough that she sort of wished she'd come up with it. The analysis of the power in Konoha, on the other hand, she stored away for later consideration. Naruto might have a pretty good gauge of his Hokage's character.

The boy in question gave an obscene slurp, polishing off his second bowl. Aiko glanced down at her ramen. It was still nearly full. Feeling mildly guilty for her slowness, she diligently picked through the mushrooms and pork belly, ignoring the greens.

"I need to go soon." Naruto frowned up at the position of the sun, waiting for his third bowl. "Can I get the check with this one?" The waitress gave him an indulgent smile and whirled away, smelling like flour and fresh dough.

Aiko didn't even pretend to look for her wallet. He was paying. She didn't have any money.

"I should be back in a week." Naruto gave her a nervous glance through his lashes, fiddling with a worn coin purse. "Want to do this again?"

The moment struck her as very awkward, in a sinking way.

'Wait. Was this a date?' She opened her mouth to ask, and then nodded silently instead. She didn't want to make an ass out of herself by misinterpreting the situation.

He grinned, counting out a hefty tip and exchanging cheek kisses over the counter with the ramen girl. A girlfriend, maybe? "Great!" Naruto chirped, waggling his fingers at the pretty brunette. She was already drifting away to take another order. "Have fun, yeah? Oh man, I'm gonna be late." He slipped off his stool and moved to push open the fabric veiling the stand from the street, tossing her one last blinding grin. "See ya!"

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity

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