A/N: Again, I know it's been awhile since my last update, and I keep saying "things will be better soon" (and then don't update for two months), but I mean it this time. I've rebuilt up my update buffer for real, so you'll be seeing another chapter within the next two weeks.

Konoha Central Hospital

Hinata was terrified, as usual.

No, not as usual. She had left that silly, scared little girl behind a long, long time ago. By the time she had come to train under Tsunade-sama, much of her crippling insecurity had already fled her, and soon afterwards whatever was left of that former shyness had been smacked out of her fairly quickly by her new teacher.

But still, some of that old Hinata still remained. And now she was coming back, if only for a little bit.

"WHAT did you say, Sasuke?"

Sasuke leaned back against the counter where she was preparing lab samples and crossed his arms. "Your father wants to see you," he reiterated slowly, as if she was a little kid who didn't quite understand the concept of rhetorical questions yet.

Your father wants to see you.

Hinata gripped the little plastic container in her hand tightly, and took a few deep breaths. There was important information stored in those thin walls, and if she broke them or contaminated them in any way because she lost control of her strength, Tsunade would relegate her to band-aid duty for half a year.

She turned away and feigned nonchalance. "What father? What's a father?"

"Fine. Hiashi Hyuga."

"Oh? Whatever for? The esteemed head of the great Hyuga clan asking after a clanless medic-nin trainee? Sounds like an odd waste of his time."

"I know you don't want to hear this, Hinata, but hiding from your family is going to do you more harm than good," Sasuke argued. "I know you're not comfortable with talking to your father – fine, Hiashi Hyuga," (now that was the understatement of the year), "but the more you hide from him the worse things are going to get. This is something serious enough that he's willing to put aside previous quarrels. However he might have treated you previously, he no longer considers you weak."

"Getting punched in the face tends to do that to arrogant jerks," Hinata mumbled, just barely loud enough for Sasuke to "accidentally" catch it. Beside her, Choji snorted into his fist, and hastily disguised it as a cough. "And I don't understand how me staying away makes things worse. As long as the question of clan leadership is undecided, Hanabi can't get the Caged Bird Seal."

"You don't have to move home, or even forgive your father for what he's done," Choji said. "You just need to confront him one last time, and come to terms with it. Otherwise it's just going to keep eating away at you, forever. You can't keep locking yourself away like this. Even if you're responsible enough to live on your own, doesn't mean you should."

"Why me? Lots of people live alone," Hinata said.

"Not by choice."

There was a dark look in Sasuke's eyes. One that Hinata didn't like. The last time she had seen that look…she had barely pulled him back from the brink then, but Hinata wondered just what would have happened if she hadn't had the good fortune to catch him, before he left the village for good and got into trouble or caused his own trouble or whatever else might have come of it…

She'd be able to hit him again, if need be, but causing a mess in the lab room wasn't a good idea.

"I'm still not comfortable with this idea."

"I know you're not. But as messed-up as your family is, at least you have one."

Hinata blinked. Now wasn't this just incredible? They should really put this down in a history book somewhere – the day where Sasuke Uchiha was the one playing therapist to his teammates, rather than the other way around. And…she hated to admit it, but he had a point.

"I'm sorry. I've been…selfish," she said, biting her lip.

Sasuke shook his head. "It's fine. Considering this was probably the first time in your life you tried doing something solely for yourself, I think that's forgivable. People have done worse things out of selfishness. You were only doing something you thought was best."

"Thank you."

"By the way, there's another reason why you should seriously go home, Hinata," Choji said.

Hinata frowned. "What is it?"

"It's something my dad just told me, not too long ago. I'm not so sure I understand it completely myself, but he said it concerned all of us, actually. We're living in dangerous times here. We've all got to stick together. Speaking of which, Sasuke, you should really start making friends with the other clan heads. Even though you're younger than the rest of the clan heads, you technically have the same rank as they do as far as the clan system goes. Maybe even a little higher, since the Uchiha clan is still considered one of the Noble Four. "

"What for?" Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. But let's just say, one day, we might all have to pick sides, and it's not 'which village should we ally with this time around' − "

Choji never ended up finishing his explanation, because at that moment one of the other hospital staff members poked her head into the room to inquire why Hinata was taking so long with the samples. When she saw Choji and Sasuke "distracting" her, she shooed them away.

Hinata sighed. Great. It seemed she was going to have to ask someone else about this so-called Councilman, then. But she really didn't want to ask Hiashi Hyuga. She doubted he'd allow her to know such sensitive information, anyway, not until she regained his trust, seeing as she had broken some major clan rules by running away from home and all. Which would be a long time in the making; in all honesty, Hinata wasn't sure if she should even bother with regaining Hiashi Hyuga's respect; the effort it would take seemed disproportionately large compared to the payoff.

Maybe next time Choji invited them over to eat at his house, she'd talk to Chouza Akimichi in private. She wished Hiashi Hyuga could be anyone else, other than Hiashi Hyuga.

An Undisclosed Location

"What the hell do you think you're doing, going after Ino Yamanaka? I thought I told you to leave them well alone!" the Sandaime demanded.

Danzo placed an affronted hand over his heart. "What? I totally am; what are you talking about?"

"This is quite possibly the clumsiest attempt at a power grab you've done yet," the Sandaime accused. "You think that just because Fuu is one of their own, the Yamanaka wouldn't kill him in his sleep anyway? There's no way they would ever accept a subversion from Fuu. Nor would they allow him to participate in anything important, so he's worthless as a spy. Just what are you trying to do?"

"Oh, that boy. I take it Fuu isn't having a very happy time right now, is he?" Danzo asked.

"No, he isn't. What, are you trying to gain control over Gaara? That's not going to happen, you know." The Sandaime's eye was twitching, to Danzo's great amusement. "Don't deny that you're not up to something. You always are."

"Look," Danzo replied, "you're overthinking this. He wanted to go home, so I let him."

"And why did you let him, now of all times?"

"As I told you, I have released this skilled young man from my service as a reward for his years of dedication. He could have been making money doing A-ranks; instead, he stayed here to take care of a doddering, old, half-senile war veteran out of his own free will. Because he was a kind lad who respected his elders."

"You are making no sense."

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're going on about."

"Look. I know you want to become Hokage. How on earth do you think this will help you? Trying to take control of a clan that will resist you until the end of time, a clan with powerful allies that will also resist you until the end of time? Is this some sort of distraction?"

"That question is about as useless as you're claiming Fuu's return home was. If I'm telling the truth, then I wouldn't lie, and if I'm planning a distraction, I wouldn't tell you anyway. Besides, me? Become Hokage? Maybe a few decades ago, but…now?" Danzo shook his head.

The Sandaime fumed silently.

Danzo ignored his ire and continued. "I'm too old. If there was one thing I learned from my failed attempt to part Shikaku Nara from his son…Well. Look at me now. Most of the men who remember me are dead, either in war or of old age. I have been secluded from the world for too long; the shinobi in service now barely remember me. Konoha needs someone it can unite under, someone it will willingly follow into battle, a strong leader! And that person obviously isn't an old, obscured, retired man like me."

"Oh, really? Then who? You're a big fat liar and you know it."

Danzo covered his mouth and gasped mockingly. "Why, Hiruzen, I am wounded. You should know by now that I love Konoha, and would never go against her will. I can hardly control who she chooses to rally behind, can I?"

"All right, then. Who do you think she'll rally behind."

"Well. I don't know. I don't know who's in the running yet." Danzo shrugged nonchalantly. "I would prefer to back a strong candidate. One that can hold Konoha up against the might of the other nations. But I won't force anyone's hand; Konoha will ultimately choose who she chooses. It doesn't make sense to foist a leader no one wants, upon a fighting force heavily dependent on respect for the chain of command."

"Of course not," Hiruzen agreed sarcastically. "The trick, is to 'persuade' everyone into liking and trusting the same person you like and trust to carry out your motives, isn't it?"

Danzo winked, and raised his glass in a toast. "Ah, you know me too well, old friend."

"So. I ask you again. Who is it? Who do you have, among your army of emotionally stunted man-children, who could possibly have the support of the people, the clans, and Tanyu?"

Danzo smirked. "Why don't you tell me?"

Training Ground 3

Kakashi stared down at the remains of Ino's work contemplatively. Lightning chakra was a bit of a creepy thing, now that he thought about it. Or maybe, it was him, for thinking to use it in this way. When he had learned about anatomy – the nervous system included – it had been for ANBU purposes – where to deal the most damage and where to elicit the most pain and whatnot. Not like medic-nin, who actually existed to help others.

No, for all the people who had died so he could live, he hadn't changed one bit. His mother, his father, Obito, Rin, Sensei…and he still did nothing but ruin people's lives…

This technique that he was building her up to learn was truly meant for assassination, unlike Raikiri, which was mostly there to look cool and intimidate. It was rare that he'd ever need it, for in most circumstances there would always be something less chakra-intensive that did the same job. Giant ball of lightning or a kunai – that still meant dead, for most people.

Raikiri was better for brute-forcing one's way out of a tough situation, breaking down walls, charging through similarly "powerful" jutsu, that sort of thing. But now that he could use teleportation to run away from most dangers, there was really little need for his first original technique anymore. Unless he was using it in tandem with the Hiraishin no Jutsu…now that would be pretty awesome.

Speaking of Ino, his student had stomped off to somewhere – presumably to get another watermelon to practice on.

Impressive work, really. If he had given Naruto the same task and allowed him to use his wind nature, the boy would have taken twice the time even when working with a hundred clones. Of course, that was just because this was a control exercise. Ino wouldn't have been able to pull off the massive bombardments Naruto could whip out with ease, as he was doing now.

"The problem is, water and fire already naturally combine to make steam. And fire and air naturally combine to make larger fires. Water and wind, on the other hand, don't necessarily form ice, which is dependent on a variety of factors, like temperature and pressure," Kakashi called out to him.

"So what do we do?" the clones asked, staring down at their own hands.

Kakashi shrugged. "Keep practicing, I suppose."

If only. Gone were the days where they could just train normally without having to think about anything else. It was one thing to be aware of the repercussions of a certain technique; it was another thing to traverse a secret society that could mercilessly mow down a man regardless of how well he trained. Kakashi flipped his marked kunai absentmindedly, wondering what circumstance had in store for his team now.

Unlike Minato-sensei, his were just the standard-issue ones that happened to have Hiraishin seal branded into the handle. He couldn't bring himself to make it any more "special" than that. It felt unnatural to give himself a trademark for a technique someone else had made famous first.

"Shikamaru," he called.

"Something you need, sensei?" Shikamaru asked, wandering over.

"Are you busy?" Kakashi asked, relishing the strange look of consternation that came over his face. Ah, the best way to mess with the kid. To answer in the negative would mean accruing more work. To answer in the positive would mean to miss out on another opportunity. It was very rare that anyone ever got to see Shikamaru confused. Kakashi was glad he was one of the few people who could draw that reaction from him on a regular basis.

"No…?" Shikamaru finally said.

Predictable.

"Great!" Kakashi said, tossing a stack of papers at him – the same stack of papers Jiraiya had gleefully used to torture him with so long ago, when he'd first lost use of his Sharingan. "New project for you. Have fun!"

Yes, he was an asshole, but Shikamaru's incredulous expression had so been worth it.

The Yamanaka Clan Compound

"And so, cousin dearest," Ino explained, scooping up the remains of the mashed vegetables she'd practiced her new lightning techniques on, "that is the difference between a monkey's arse and a flying fuck."

Fuu looked like his world had just turned upside-down. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. You've been missing out."

"But Danzo-sama always told me – "

Ino never got to hear what he was about to say, because he dropped to the ground, choking on his own tongue. It was only momentary, but when he looked up again, his face had darkened. He looked between her and the smashed taro dripping over the remains of a cracked pumpkin a few times, and then turned around and walked out of the shed silently.

Ino picked up the purple goopy blob of taro and lobbed it at the back of Fuu's head. Fuu naturally ducked, as he was trained to do, which was also why she had followed up with a second handful in quick succession, aimed slightly below the first. The resulting wet SLAP was not a pleasant sound, but it wasn't as if Ino had any other suitable source of ammunition within grabbing distance. Unless you counted the mallet, the table, and the fertilizer shovel. But Ino was only looking to mildly annoy her cousin, not give him permanent brain damage.

(Not that he wasn't already a little touched up there.)

Fuu turned around, furiously wiping at his hair. "Ino, that was very highly unbecoming of a clan head. You should be ashamed of yourself. Imagine how Hiashi Hyuga might react if he could see such behavior. This is exactly why you need me to – "

Ino cut him off with another fistful of taro. "You know, being a slow learner is also very highly unbecoming of a clan head's so-called advisor. You should be ashamed of yourself. It's barely been five minutes and already you've forgotten the difference between a monkey's arse and a flying fuck."

"What? No, that's not the point – the point is – "

"The point is you need to shut up and have some fun every once in awhile."

Fuu hesitated, and then attempted to catch himself, but it was too late. Ino had found the chink in his armor, and she wouldn't let go until she'd cracked the whole thing into pieces like porcelain in an earthquake.

The Nara Clan Compound

With the way Kakashi-sensei was pushing us, it was obvious that there was something he was extremely worried about.

Anyway, one of the most difficult things about fuinjutsu was figuring out the method of fast application. Most seals took a long period of preparation, and so most users could only create their weapons in advance and deploy them when needed. To be able to call on a seal immediately was a rare skill that could only be developed through practice. It was not a matter of the individual sealer's technique; it was simply accomplished through development of one's own chakra control and force of will.

The chakra control, I had. The force of will…that was something I was still working on.

In regards to sealing, it was more than just concentration. It was the ability to force something nonexistent into existence.

Physically painting a seal onto a surface was easy. There were many mediums for that – ink, water, even blood – but it took time. Precious time, not available in the midst of a fire-scorched field. That sort of fuinjutsu was only effective if you had already taken care to draw it out ahead of time, then, because who wanted to lug around inkstones and brushes on a mission?

But it's hard to predict exactly what sort of seals you'd need, for they changed in every given situation. Only very simple seals, like exploding tags, could be mass-produced – but what would the point of being a sealing "master" be if that was all I knew? To be able to just touch my hand to anything, and watch the seal form without the need of a medium – that was near impossible.

But not completely impossible, because I'd seen Kakashi-sensei accomplish that with the Flying Thunder God technique.

Of course, that was just one technique that, like exploding tags, could be reapplied in mass amounts. More complicated seals…I'd never heard of anyone in living memory performing those without preparation. Even the long-lost legends of Uzushiogakure had little to say about that. Most people who performed these "instantaneous" seals could only do so for one or two memorized techniques. There was a limit to wholly mental technique execution.

Sealing was just such a complicated thing. It had to be. Everything in life had a payoff. This was the price for opting to use such a powerful branch of the ninja arts.

The sun had already gone down, and it was dark. I was feeling a bit tired today, so I decided I wouldn't be working any late nights tonight. My mom couldn't fault me for going to bed before twelve now, could she? (She had, in fact, been trying to force me to go to bed at a reasonable time for a while now.)

My father and I are out in our backyard again. There is the campfire. The flickering flames, in the dark. Some logs.

He brings out the rabbit. "You know what to do," he says.

"Why is it always rabbits?" I had asked. "Not that I'd rather practice on a person," I added quickly. "But, I don't know – there's squirrels and other animals, too."

"For some reason, I've found rabbits worked best, and given the nature of this technique, I've never bothered to investigate why," he had said, and left it at that.

I close my eyes. Concentrate. My shadow strains itself against the barrier.

Then it breaks.

Pitch black, swimming through foggy ink. I had no senses. I couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't smell or hear or taste. But I could still tell what was where, as if it was a part of me. Sensing things, feeling and seeing and hearing them, smelling and tasting them, as if I was them, and not myself. Like knowing your own face, without a mirror, not needing to look at it because you already are.

I am the rabbit. I see myself, as the rabbit sees me, two sets of eyes, looking back into each other, like two mirrors facing each other. Endless reflection.

Then the rabbit becomes a woman. Her hair is long and white, as are her eyes, which, like her face, are blank and pale, as if she is blind, but in reality, she can see through this darkness better than anyone. I know those eyes. We almost went to war for them, once.

In the middle of her forehead…

A third eye opens, vertically. A rosy red dot in the middle of her forehead, like a spot of blood.

She opens her mouth, and starts screaming something. But no sound comes out, for we are in a vacuum. I hear nothing. Just a mouth, open and empty, with no air to catch. Desperate to be heard, she points down. I looked, but I see nothing except the black abyss. My shadow is still split, and the black fog curls around my vision.

My eyes are human eyes; they can see nothing. Just the endless, pitch black. Darkness. She screams again. Still nothing. I have no senses here. I could understand nothing, besides myself, and – her –

I am the rabbit. She is the rabbit. I am she.

So even though I cannot hear, I know what she is saying, because I am saying the same thing:

Come back, come back.

Where are you, my other half?

Where are you –

My eyes snapped open, and for a moment, I didn't know what was going on. For a moment, I thought I was still trapped in that sea of freezing nothingness. Then I recollected myself, and realized that no, I was fine, I was in the real world, safe and sound in bed, in my room, at home, like I usually was at this time of night when I wasn't pulling a late night. I hadn't gone anywhere, I had never left.

It was just – a weirdly specific nightmare. Yeah, that was it. That had to be it. I rolled over, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep again.

No luck.

The lights were off, the air was warm, and yet I was freezing to death.

I lied. I wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Tonight would be a late night. I kicked off the covers and headed over to my desk, where my sealing notebooks were waiting. I didn't know what else to do; I couldn't practice any of my ninjutsu at this time of night and I didn't want to do anything Kagemane-related right now. So, fuinjutsu it was. I thanked Kakashi-sensei for giving me this third mode of focus.

It didn't take me long to settle down and find my rhythm for completing this next particular set of sealing exercises. Though every seal was different for every situation, there were still certain similarities in the overall process that could be exploited. Measure, design, test, repeat. Measure, design, test, repeat. The chakra sources ran down my network of stripes of conducting ink, like electricity from a battery across a circuit of components.

I couldn't go back to sleep. This was all I had, to distract myself with.

"I thought you were going to sleep early today."

Without looking up, I answered, "I thought you did, too."

"I can hear you thinking," my dad smirked. "It's very loud."

I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you were secretly a Yamanaka."

"Go to sleep, Shikamaru." He turned off the light.

But I could not. Had I been like my father, sleep would have been all too easy. But I was not my father, as much as I wanted to be. The whole time, I had been calling out for my mother, except that my mother had black hair so it really didn't make sense.