Title: Dreaming of Sunshine

Summary: Life as a ninja. It starts with confusion and terror and doesn't get any better from there. OC Self-insert.

AN: Super thanks to Frolic, Pepperdoken and MathIsMagic.

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Chapter 147

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A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality. ~ Yoko Ono

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Creating new training programs from scratch — or at least, the very general basics of a training program — was fun in a way that untangling the knots of police history wasn't.

For the Junior Police Cadets I drafted a quick mock up of a badge system, like I remembered from Girl Guides. Badges were great; kids loved badges. I had, back then, anyway. I'd collected all bar one. They could have sashes too, like we had had, which were cute and didn't violate any Konoha Uniform Regulations in ways that a bandana or vest might have, because Konoha didn't use sashes as signs of rank anywhere.

Actual content was going to require much more thought. I had a few ideas, and so did Sasuke, based on our own clan training and things that we technically had learnt at school but probably could have stood to practice more.

The internships though — that was harder. My rough idea was to divide the graduating year into four and then rotate them through the four departments for three months each. The internal training for each department wasn't really the issue (or well, the police might be, but not yet) because three month rotations were already a thing that the village did, just not for Academy students. The issue was what additional training should be happening during that year as well.

"Maybe we should ask someone," I suggested finally. "A teacher someone."

"Iruka-sensei?" Sasuke suggested because that was basically the only teacher we kept in touch with. Other than Kakashi-sensei, who would be absolutely worse than useless, even if he had been around.

Which was why the two of us rocked up to the Academy just after school hours let out, dodging the outrush of students to make our way inside to our old classroom.

The dulcet tones of Iruka-sensei's yelling at someone — Konohamaru, as it turned out — echoed through the hallways.

I knocked awkwardly on the doorframe of the open classroom door.

"You can go," Iruka-sensei said to Konohamaru. "This time."

Konohamaru took his opening and darted past us, chirping, "Hi, nee-chan. Hi, nii-chan!" and nearly tripping on his scarf.

"Shikako-chan," Iruka-sensei said, "Sasuke-kun. Can I help you?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"We had some questions about training systems," I said. "And I figured 'who better to ask than Iruka-sensei?'"

"For your police assignment?" Iruka-sensei confirmed, proving that he was indeed up to date on all the gossip. Not that that was a particularly secret bit of information. "I don't know if I'd be much help. You might be better off asking Yuuhi Shinku — he runs the Genin Corps Training Program. The Corps admin building is that old stone one down past Genki Sushi, you know the one."

I hadn't had much to do with the Genin Corps really; barely knew very much about them, beyond that they were the largest faction of the Forces and that the Corps in general did a lot of the low level, manual-labour-type grunt work and civil infrastructure like maintaining the roads around the Land of Fire. And the non-classified (and therefore largely civilian) postal service.

"It's not just the police though," Sasuke said. "We had a few ideas about Academy students. Or, well, recent graduates."

"If you've got time," I added, because Iruka-sensei sometimes seemed like he was single-handedly attempting to run the entire village with how many things he was involved in.

"A few minutes," he said. "I have a shift at the missions desk soon, but if you make it quick…"

Which meant we'd probably intrigued him. Didn't mean he would necessarily help out, but curiosity was our foot in the door here.

We gave a quick run down of our ideas, and Iruka-sensei seemed genuinely surprised by them. "That's… bold," he settled on, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

I nodded. "I mean, we might as well suggest as many outrageous things as we can. They'll probably get scaled back before implementation, but that just means we should dream big at the start."

"We've got a few ideas of things that the cadets and the internships should cover," Sasuke said, shrugging. "But you probably know more than us about what they should be learning."

I nodded. "Yeah, I mean, ideally… if you had your students for an extra year what would you teach them?"

"More survival skills," he said immediately. "More first aid. Maybe another E-rank jutsu or two. Actually, there's a lot of more individual skills we just don't have the resources to teach — sensory skills, tracking, pretty much any weapon other than kunai and shuriken." He glanced away. "I suppose a lot of the survival skills fall under that umbrella too; that's why they're left to the jounin-sensei. Hard to teach snowcraft in the middle of Konoha."

Unless you had some kind of artificial biome or something. I put a pin in that thought for later, however interesting it was.

"Could you make us a list?" I asked, politely. "I don't know if we could do much about resources, but it sounds like you have a few ideas."

He looked a little rueful, like he'd been caught out. "A few, maybe. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, sensei!"

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Since Iruka-sensei had mentioned him, I decided to see if I could track down the Genin Corps instructor guy. That did sound like a thing that would be relevant and useful.

(Sasuke had something that might or might not have been an ANBU Captain meeting to go to. He'd been vague. Maybe he just didn't want to come.)

I'd never been to the Genin Corps building before — hadn't given much thought to it not being in the Tower like the rest of the admin offices. There were enough people trickling out of the place, given that it was near the end of the day shift, that I managed to catch someone who could direct me to Yuuhi Shinku's office. Or at least, the floor that his office was on.

It appeared to be fairly standard. A reception desk near the stairwell, a large open office with half a dozen desks – currently empty – and two offices lining the back wall. One was empty and had it's lights off, the other had an older jounin working at a desk.

The guy at the reception desk looked up politely. He was maybe thirty, with a solid moustache and his headband worn sideways so that the plate was above his left ear. He was wearing a sweater vest over a button up and had no weapons at all that I could see.

Right. Genin Corps.

"Hi?" I asked. "I'd like to talk to Yuuhi Shinku, if he's available."

The guy at the desk – I shamelessly snooped at the documents he'd been working on and found his name was Manabu Akado – pulled out an old fashioned diary and laboriously turned to the current date, running his finger down the page until it hit three o'clock. The last two slots were blank, and had been blank for several pages; clearly Yuuhi was a guy that liked his last hour before home time to be clear. I could sympathise with that.

Akado checked the clock. It was three twenty seven. I'd made good time from the Academy.

"Yuuhi-sensei is free until four o'clock, Special Jounin-san," he confirmed. "Then his shift ends."

I thanked him, even though that had been a process for something I could pretty much deduce right from where I was standing. All it had needed was 'yes, he's here'.

I strolled across the office area and knocked on Shinku's door. "Excuse me," I said brightly, stepping inside. "I'm-"

"No," the Jounin at the desk said, without looking up.

I blinked. "What?"

"If you wish to speak with me, you shall make an appointment," he said, stiffly. "I have neither the time nor inclination to speak with every undesirable that wanders in off the street. And also, I have not given you leave to enter my office. It is common courtesy to wait until one is acknowledged and invited to enter."

Wow. Even Tsunade wasn't so pointlessly strict about office etiquette, and she was the damned Hokage.

I could feel the rising itch to dig my heels in, to pick a fight. This was nothing, really. An annoyance, a mild irritation, something that on a good day I'd probably have shrugged off, let run off my back like water and forgotten about the instant it was over.

(I'd dreamed about red sky and people dying. Over and over and over again, until it was almost boring.

Today was not a good day.)

This guy was as good a target as any. Did he want pain in the ass formality? I could do pain in the ass formality.

I took one step back, until I was just outside the line of the doorway. "Akado-san," I called over my shoulder without taking my eyes off of Yuuhi. "Could I please book an appointment for three thirty?"

"Certainly, Special Jounin-san," Akado said, pulling out the diary again and adding a note to it. "Your name?"

"Shikako Nara," I said, and Yuuhi looked up from his desk for the first time, eyes narrowed. I took just the tiniest bit of satisfaction in the recognition. Yeah, that's right. Your boss is my dad.

The clock on the wall ticked over. Three twenty eight. I settled into alert readiness, like at the start of a fight, and kept my eyes on Yuuhi. I wasn't putting out Intent or anything like that, nothing that could be misconstrued as actually aggressive, but no ninja who had enough fighting prowess to make Jounin would feel particularly at ease under a gaze like that.

Three twenty nine. Three thirty.

Akado got up from his desk, plodded across the room, squeezed past me and bowed to Yuuhi. "Your three thirty appointment is here, Yuuhi-sensei," he said dully, like this wasn't an enormous farce. I was inordinately fond of him for it.

The tendon in Yuuhi's jaw pulsed.

"Hi, Yuuhi-san," I said with a pleasant smile over a shark grin. I waited, because I'd won that round and now he had to invite me in and therefore concede the second round as well.

He waved me in, looking like he'd bitten into a lemon. I stood in front of his desk, which meant he had to look up at me. Because he hadn't told me to take a seat and it would be rude to just take one without invitation. Obviously.

Of course, now I'd committed to talking to the guy, which was probably punishment in itself.

"I hear you're an instructor in the Genin Corps?" Goading him probably wasn't smart, not when I'd actually come here with the intention of having a productive conversation, but hey, I wasn't going to be the first one to cede ground.

"The Head Instructor," he said, icily. "Which means the appropriate honorific is 'sensei'."

"Oh, I see," I said, wide-eyed, like I hadn't noticed Akado calling him that and then… deliberately didn't. Technically it would be polite for me to use it, especially since I was asking about teaching. But also technically I wasn't under his chain of command and he'd certainly never taught me. "That's very interesting Yuuhi-san."

Yeah, this was so promising.

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I was still annoyed by Yuuhi freaking Shinku the next day. It wasn't like I'd expected everyone to jump at my command and help me — but he hadn't been unhelpful as much as—

"— a complete jerk," I said to Sakura, flopping angrily onto a bench in the meeting hall that Anko had organised for this week's Kunoichi Meeting. I slashed a hand through the air like this would increase her understanding of how much of a jerk he had been.

Sakura seemed insufficiently sympathetic. "You poor thing," she said. "I had to remove a grape from someone's nostril in the ER this morning."

"Okay," I said grudgingly. "You win. That seems gross." I eyeballed the crowd for anyone else who would be more interested in getting outraged with me. Maybe Yakumo; I didn't normally complain about things to her but she did have experience with old jerks. It was a pity Ino wasn't here — though on second thought maybe she'd just find it funny.

"Who is a jerk?" Someone asked behind me, also sounding like they found it funny.

I twisted to find Kurenai-sensei watching me with a smirk badly hidden behind a paper cup of steaming coffee.

Kurenai Yuuhi. "Ah," I said, connecting the dots far too late. I had been fairly loud, hadn't I? "Um. I mean. I'm exaggerating. It wasn't that bad."

She slid onto the bench beside me and I hastily sat upright. "Oh, don't censor yourself on my account. Please, tell me all about how my father is a jerk."

I winced, sliding down the scale from 'awkward' to 'mortified'. Bad enough if he'd just been clan, nope he had to be her dad. I'd really put my foot in it.

"That wasn't sarcasm," she added, when I didn't say anything. "I do mean it. What did he do?"

I shrugged stiffly. "Ah, Iruka-sensei suggested I talk to him about the Genin Corps training system. Because, we're trying to put together things for the Police Force. But, um. He didn't want to talk to me."

I probably hadn't really helped matters very much but things had definitely started off on the wrong foot and only gotten worse.

Kurenai-sensei took a sip of coffee. Then pulled out a hip flask from the loose bandage folds of her dress and added a generous dollop of something clear and alcoholic smelling. She stirred it in with the little plastic stirrer. "Do you know," she said. "He once told me I couldn't go and fight in a battle because I owed him grandchildren."

"Wow." I carefully didn't think about how Kurenai-sensei might just, if things went the way they had in that story, have a kid reasonably soon. But deciding to have kids on your own was incredibly different to someone telling you that you had to have them. "I think if someone said that to me I'd rip my uterus out with my bare hands and throw it in their face."

Kurenai-sensei laughed like my threat of gore and violence was adorable hyperbole.

"If you're looking for someone who knows a lot about teaching," she said, "you could try Ebisu."

"Oh, Ebisu-sensei!" I'd completely forgotten about him. She was right — Ebisu had basically made Special Jounin for teaching and Kakashi-sensei obviously regarded him highly enough to ask him to train Naruto.

"He lives in the Hiruko Apartments," she added, taking another sip of her drink.

I blinked in surprise. It seemed a little… forward to give me his actual home location, even I could have looked it up in a registry, since that wasn't one of the unlisted apartment buildings. Still, I probably would have tried to track him down during working hours rather than go to his house. Though now that I knew where it was, it was by far the easiest option and I'd probably do it.

"1210," she added, like maybe that wasn't enough information. "The apartment right next to Gai-sensei."

I blinked again, but this time for a different reason. I knew, logically, that Gai-sensei must have Lived Somewhere. He couldn't just exist in a perpetual state of Training around the village. And having an apartment obviously meant that that apartment had neighbours and therefore there were people out there who existed in a state of Living Next To Gai-sensei…

Not that Gai would be a bad neighbour. So long as you were adjusted to the usual ninja eccentricities like strange hours, window usage, occasional loud noise and Kakashi.

"Right," I said and cleared my throat, a little worried that Kurenai-sensei was going to keep giving me alarming information. "I'll ask him."

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I did go to Ebisu's apartment later that afternoon — late enough he'd probably be home, not so late that it was rude — feeling a little like Kurenai-sensei had compelled me, even though she hadn't done any more than offer me helpful information and I was practically immune to genjutsu.

Still. Awkward.

There was chakra inside Apartment 1210, so I knocked politely on the door. Ebisu didn't go directly for the door, instead stopping a little to the left — either door traps, or something to check the identity of a visitor.

Apparently I passed, because the door opened. "Ah, Shikako-san," Ebisu said, straightening his glasses. "How unexpected."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this, Ebisu-sensei," I said. "Um. You might know that Sasuke and I are drafting a proposal for the re-establishment of the Military Police and, um, we need a little help trying to design the training programs."

"And you came to me. Well!" He looked… pleased, shoulders drawing back and chest puffing out, just a little. "I would be honoured to help. But of course, that is a serious request! Not something I can do instantly."

"Of course," I agreed amicably. "I thought I would book a meeting room at the Tower if you have, um, a preference for time? Outside Academy hours, probably, since I hope I can get Iruka-sensei's input as well."

I hadn't, previously, thought about it but it wasn't a bad idea anyway. Get us all together at least once to hash things out, rather than me running around doing all the communicating. Excellent.

"Later in the evening would be preferable," he said, "since I still work with the Honourable Grandson in the afternoons."

I wasn't sure if that was still his assignment, since… well, since the Third had passed on — if it had just carried on because no one had changed it — or if he was doing it of his own volition.

"That should work fine," I said. "Um. Would you like a short introduction to what we're considering? Or I can write some notes up for you. Or. Go over it at the meeting, I guess?"

Ebisu appeared to give this a moment of serious consideration. "I suppose I do have a few moments," he agreed. "Please come inside. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee? I only have instant, I'm afraid, though it wouldn't be a problem to borrow a filter jug from a neighbour-"

I came inside and carefully stepped out of my sandals. The place was spotless, minimally decorated and pretty standard for a shinobi apartment, though there was a large corkboard on the far wall that was absolutely plastered with note paper and sticky memos.

"Tea?" I offered, mostly to stop the patter of offerings and not because I intended to stay long enough that hot drinks would be required. "Tea would be fine."

Of course, then it was polite to actually wait for it to be made. I took the chance to look around a bit further, and since the only thing of real interest was the corkboard, that was what drew most of my attention.

At first it was just a confusing mishmash, and I nearly assumed it was all in code — anything I made would be — and then I saw the names of the Academy three jutsu and a number for repetitions and it all fell into place.

"Oh," I said, "are these training programs?" No wonder Kurenai had directed me here. Not only was Ebisu-sensei was a teacher; he actually had experience with the very thing we needed.

Belatedly, I realised that maybe I wasn't supposed to be looking at these. If they were designed for someone in particular, they'd probably be confidential.

"They are!" Ebisu-sensei said, right behind me with two cups. I took one, cradling it in my hands. There wasn't exactly a table because these one room apartments weren't that big, so we just stood a tad awkwardly in front of the board. "Or, at least, potential training programs. None of them have been implemented."

"For the Academy?" I guessed.

"No," he answered, surprising me. "For the Genin Corps." He adjusted his sunglasses, like a nervous tick. "I came from the Corps, you know."

I hadn't known that, actually. "I… hadn't given it any thought," I said.

He nodded, like he'd read my surprise. "Indeed! I was lucky enough to be chosen for a genin team after a year, and through hard work and determination was able to become a Chunin and then the Special Jounin you see before you! But I have never forgotten where I came from, and I wish to help the others who were in my position."

I nodded. "Makes sense," I agreed. "So, uh," I tried to think of a polite way to ask why aren't they implemented?

"Every year since I became Special Jounin I have made a submission to the Genin Corps with a new and improved training program," he sad. There was a touch of odd pride to his voice.

I had no idea how many years Ebisu had been Special Jounin for, but it was probably a few.

"Wow," I said. "That's a lot of work." Especially given that I suspected he meant 'new' as in 'from scratch' not just 'slightly different'.

"Yes." He nodded again. "Yuuhi Shinku has rejected every single one."

My already low opinion of Yuuhi Shinku took a nose dive through the floor and started digging.

"Wow," I repeated, with a different intonation. I considered the pages and pages of notes and the amount work and mentally extrapolated that for years. "You know. I think we can work with this."

"Pardon?" Ebisu-sensei asked.

I smiled. "Okay, so, we're actually working on three separate training issues," I said, then explained the whole police, internships and Junior Police Cadet thing. "But if we include attempting to recruit police from the Genin Corps, I don't see why we couldn't also suggest a comprehensive overhaul of the Corps training program. Obviously we need to ensure they're up to standard."

"Well," Ebisu-sensei said, sounding just a touch bewildered.

But I was on a roll. "This proposal goes straight to Tsunade-sama," I said, "Since she's the one that commissioned it. If you attach your submission to it, then there won't be a chance for Shifu or whoever to reject it." I gave a sharp nod. "Under your own name, obviously. Maybe we can officially hire you as a contractor? There's no reason you shouldn't be credited for it."

Could I do that? I had no idea but surely I could. When people suggested building new infrastructure they didn't do the whole design themselves. It was about project coordination. And stuff.

"And like. Maybe even suggestions for the General Forces as a whole? I know some people at the Tower have problems meeting their OR hours — maybe there should be classes they could attend. Or. Or seminars for new skills."

Training, once one was out of the Academy, was mostly a self motivated process. Or a clan motivated one, when you had a clan. Even situations where you kept working with your Jounin-sensei weren't really all that common.

"Oh yes!" Ebisu said, getting some enthusiasm back. "There's a deplorable lack of options in the General Forces. At the very least there should be a process for partnering up shinobi with compatible training goals, or those that are willing to pass on skills to other ninja. Many skills require the student to already have a solid base of knowledge, so it isn't feasible to attempt to teach them at the Academy — but that's no reason for them to never be taught!"

I nodded, completely in agreement. "We should definitely consider this as part of our suggestions, too."

I'd already proven with the Nara Clan Sealing Group that a reasonably short training program could pay dividends and while I didn't think there would ever be an open, village-wide sealing course — the security issues, yikes — the concept would work for other skills easily enough.

"Yes, yes," Ebisu muttered. "I will… I will write some notes." He was staring at the corkboard like he wanted to get started right away.

I finished my tea and quietly put the empty cup down on the kitchen counter. "I will... book us that meeting room," I said, sidling towards the door. "And send you the details. Thank you for your time!"

I slipped my shoes on and ducked out at Ebisu-sensei's distracted-sounding farewell.

It wasn't much further to stop by the Tower on my way home, so I figured I might as well do it immediately. Technically speaking, most Jounin projects were merely contributory — they were done in your own time, with your own resources, and submitted when complete. But ours had literally been assigned to us by the Hokage; I had a mission scroll and a mission number to go with it.

So I shamelessly used that to book a meeting room at the Tower under the guise of an official mission. And then — more out of pettiness than anything — I used it to request the assignment of a particular Genin Corps member as an administrative assistant for the whole thing.

The justification? As the secretary for the Head Instructor, Manabu Akado was familiar with the current training regime and therefore held all the information that we needed. Which would probably be helpful. But mostly it was just because it was the fastest way to disrupt Shinku's careful scheduling and obvious desire for things to happen Exactly As He Planned every day.

If it turned out that requesting an assistant was not under the purview of this mission, then I'd pay the reimbursement fee, no problem. I was willing to pay real, actual money to ruin Shinku's day.

Because Ebisu-sensei looked sad, I justified internally.

I handed the forms in to the missions desk to get the meeting notices delivered; I hoped Iruka-sensei wouldn't be too surprised that it was now formal enough to have a meeting instead of just catching up with him when we had time.

The missions desk handed me something in turn.

"Oh, nice," I said, absently, reading it over. "Hey, do you know if Ibiki-taicho is in right now?"

It was late so he might not have been — this wasn't an urgent missive so it had probably just been waiting for me to pick it up or would get delivered to my in-tray in the Tower — but it didn't hurt to ask.

Or it didn't hurt me. The desk nin went about two shades paler, which was a bit of an extreme reaction to Ibiki's name, but one he'd probably find funny. "Let me check," he said, and pulled out the logbook to check the daily sign-ins. The logbook wasn't always correct, but it was kinda necessary to know where the department heads and other people of importance were.

"He should be in, uh," the desk nin said, "in his office."

"Neat," I said, a little amused at the circumventing of his department name. But then again, I probably didn't want to drop 'Torture and Interrogation' in a crowded mission room either. "Thanks."

I hopped down the levels to T an Intel ninja signed me in when I showed Ibiki's note and led me towards his office. Ibiki was carefully filling in some forms when the Intel ninja knocked on his open door, which he slid in to a folder and out of sight before I entered the room. Obviously not classified if the door was open, but not something he wanted me to look at either.

"Ah, Shikako," he said, smiling a little. "I wanted to talk to you about a meeting."

I squinted at him. "I booked that, like, literally ten minutes ago. There's no way you can know about it." The note had been almost definitely older than that.

He folded his hands. "I think you will find," he said with grave seriousness, "I know everything that happens in this village."

I snorted, startled into gross laughter.

His facade cracked. "I have no idea what meeting you're talking about," he admitted. "But we spoke at New Years about your plans for the police and it seemed worth following through on it."

I grinned, collapsing down into the chair opposite his desk. "Oh, right," I said. "I haven't actually got much further with working out how to separate or integrate the police and Intel responsibilities. We got a little sidetracked considering the manpower issues and what kind of training the police will need. That's the meeting I booked, just now."

"A little preemptive," Ibiki said. "If you haven't worked out what the police will be doing."

I bobbed my head in a quick nod. "Yeah, it kinda… spiralled into a thing. It'll probably evolve as we go along, so I'm not too worried about getting ahead of ourselves."

"Interesting," Ibiki said, like he had seen about three layers through that explanation. I wasn't entirely sure there were three layers below it, so, good on him? "I think I should send someone to attend this meeting of yours. On behalf of my department. Anko Mitarashi, possibly."

I blinked. "Yeah, okay?" Then considered his choice. "Yeah, actually Anko-senpai would be a great choice. She's been running the Kunoichi Club so I'd probably want her input anyway."

I hadn't really realised she was back to working for the Intel Department, since last I'd known she was Jounin-sensei to Sakura's team during the Mist Exams. But they'd all made chuunin, and Sakura definitely wasn't a full time, active duty field ninja, so even if she was still in charge of them that probably didn't take up all her time. And I had no idea what her new jounin duties were so it made sense.

"Excellent," he said. "As for settling the issue of police duties…"

"Name a time and place," I said.