Children of the White Angel, Part II

[book_people]

Hey everyone! thebunnybag and I are pleased to present Part II of this monster. Sorry it took so long! We're both very busy people and we got a little stuck in places. Anyway, here it is. Mind the warnings (they are, believe it or not, still relevant) and enjoy!


Children of the White Angel 
By Adi and Lutra/Kit 

Summary: The war is over, and team Taka is a mere formality away from becoming full-fledged shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Unfortunately, one of the requirements is candor, and not a single one of them is willing to expose the secret they all share. 
Genre: Suspense/Horror
Rating: M/R for violence
Pairing: Gen
Warnings For the Fic: Body horror, psychological torture, physical torture 
Additional Warnings For This Chapter: Flashbacks, Juugo's episodes
Words this chapter: ~10.5k

Part II

Physical Examination—Third Exam

Uchiha Sasuke:

Third round of x-rays and breathing tests support hypothesis of lowered breathing capacity due to obstruction of chest cavity. Obstruction likely due to third and fifth anterior ribs and second, third, fourth, and fifth posterior ribs. Suggest manual resetting.

Range of motion tests still inconclusive. Patient appears to have full range of motion despite nerve damage. Patient is a little shit who is way too good at hiding weaknesses. Suggest fourth round of RoM tests, perhaps while patient is distracted.

Further treatment—Schedule surgery for rebreaking procedure. Discuss potential avenues for RoM tests with alternate source. Suggest UN whack patient’s knees when not expecting it???

Uzumaki Karin:

N/A. Second round of tests proved conclusive. See past notes re: nerve damage. Digestive tract functioning normally.

Further treatment—judged unnecessary. Patient appears to have adapted to nerve damage and has full RoM. Patient appears to have appropriate diet. Patient rejected suggestion that she not use herself as a battery for injured nin. Vehemently.

Juugo:

Tests conclusive. Cardiopulmonary system appears to be functioning normally. Digestive system appears to be functioning normally. Adrenal system appears to be functioning normally. Adrenal system should not be functioning normally, all things considered. Suggest further research.

Further treatment—Adrenal and hormonal tests re: treatment plan. See past notes.

Hozuki Suigetsu:

Who the fuck even knows? Suggest saline drip.

*

"Alright, then, we're agreed. Hikaru, have the D rank to the missions office by tomorrow morning. Suggest the genin wear gas masks and approach the refrigerator with caution. Actually, note that a more experienced team should take it. Actually, make it a C rank." Hikaru nodded solemnly and made a note on the paper in front of him. Tsunade nodded back. "Anyone else have anything to add?" Nobody raised a hand. "Good. Dismissed. Sakura, stay. Everyone else back to your stations."

Sakura, who’d been gathering up her charts halfway through Tsunade’s dismissal, paused and looked at her former teacher quizzically. She was probably eager to get back to work.  Tsunade couldn’t blame her, really.  Sakura had a touch-and-go case in the ICU that simply refused to stabilize for longer than half an hour at a stretch. She had the look that all medics got when their patients were frustratingly close to flatlining—large bags under her green eyes, hair greasy and pulled back with the closest available piece of string, frown lines set permanently into her forehead and around her mouth. Being a medic-nin aged you way faster than other specialties, Tsunade knew.

Tsunade grimaced and flicked her eyes at the door, an indication that she’d explain once the others left. Sakura sighed a little and nodded, settling back in her chair and flipping open the chart in front of her, picking up her pen and absentmindedly chewing on it as she glared at her jounin’s stats. Tsunade suddenly felt a little bad about keeping her for something unofficial.

Tsunade settled back in her chair as the door closed quietly behind the last hospital worker. Sakura looked up and put down her pen, giving Tsunade a small smile. Tsunade quirked her mouth at her old student in return, then got straight to the point. “I’m doing surveys of how Uchiha’s team is settling into the village now that they’re allowed to move around freely. I figured you’d be a better source of information than Naruto.”

The small, inquiring smile dropped off Sakura’s face faster than a person dropped with a kunai to the throat. She shook her head, looking resigned, and sat back in her chair a bit. “Sorry, Shishou, but you’ve definitely come to the wrong place. Sasuke and I… haven’t really connected since he’s been back.”

Tsunade blinked. That… was pretty unexpected actually. She wasn’t getting regular reports on Uchiha’s movements anymore, since the brats were ostensibly on parole and that meant the ANBU teams reported once every other week unless asked explicitly. But the reports had heard that even before they were cleared, Sakura visited Sasuke as often as was allowed. Twice a month, granted…but it was still a fair amount of trouble to go through, even moreso if they weren’t getting along.

“You visited him fairly regularly during his house arrest,” Tsunade prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes,” Sakura said, picking up her pen and fiddling with it a little as she shifted uncomfortably under Tsunade’s stare. “But it was… mostly because he’s Sasuke. He let me in and I put food on the table, and then he eyed me sideways as we discussed things like the weather until I had to leave.”

Tsunade raised the other eyebrow. “The… weather?”

“In our defense,” Sakura said dryly, putting her pen back down. “We did try to kill each other years before. I think Naruto’s the only one who considers that an overture of friendship.”

“He was under house arrest.”

“He had windows, Shishou.”
“Right.” Tsunade rubbed her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “Thank you anyway, Sakura. You can go back to your post.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help, Shishou,” Sakura responded, standing up and beginning to put her charts away again. “If you want, I can ask Naruto what he thinks. He might be more open with me than you, since I don’t actually have the authority to lock Sasuke back up again.”

“You can if you want,” Tsunade allowed, watching her finish up her packing through her impending migraine. “I’m not going to ask you officially, though. I’d rather leave that card in reserve for when it’s really necessary.”

Sakura smiled at her, slinging her back onto her back. “Right. In that case, I’ll look into it.” Tsunade waved a hand dismissively, and Sakura left. Tsunade waited until she was gone to sigh and summon an aide. She still had a lot of work to do on this case. The aide stepped in and bowed respectively.

“Bring me all the reports on Orochimaru’s movements prior to his death,” she ordered. “And call Ibiki.” The aide bowed, respectfully.

“Would you like me to bring you some aspirin as well, Hokage-sama?”

“Bring the whole bottle,” Tsunade deadpanned, and the aide retreated. Tsunade was pretty sure he was laughing at her.

Asshole. Tsunade was surrounded by assholes. And difficult former traitors. And the day was only half over.

Tsunade gave herself a whole minute to long for her bed and a bottle of sake, and then went back to her teetering piles of paperwork.

*

“So.” Tsunade said without preamble when Ibiki entered. She had a cluster of scrolls and three notebooks on the table. “Examinations I performed on the former Sound nin showed damage to internal organs, and to me, the damage doesn’t seem consistent with Orochimaru’s experiments. Partly, I’m going on my experience with him in the field. The rest of it, I’ve got here.” She picked up one of the notebooks.

“They confiscated several of his notebooks after shutting down the lab. These three here are the ones still around.”

“What happened to the rest? Assuming there were more,” Ibiki asked. He reached for the notebook Tsunade handed him and, when Tsunade waved her hand to tell him to go ahead, turning to the first page.

“I don’t know, and yes, there were more, just no one can find them. That’s one of the things I need you to do.”

Ibiki nodded, shutting the notebook again. “Yes, Hokage-sama. What else do you need?”

“Who Orochimaru collaborated with while he was still in this village. He didn’t work alone all the time. Here…” she pulled out one of the scrolls. “I wrote down some of the known names of his associates. One of them is still alive and lives in the northwest sector of the village.” She flipped the scroll open and indicated the section where the man’s contact information was listed. “One of the ninjutsu specialists Sandaime kept around due more to longevity of service instead of actual approval of his techniques.” Ibiki made a noise of acknowledgment and set his mouth in a thin line. Tsunade smirked. “Yeah, he’ll be fun. Go find him and ask him what he worked on with Orochimaru. Look in on the records of the others, too. See what else they did before and after Orochimaru. Try and find any other connections between them, if possible.”

She passed him the scrolls and the other notebooks, and watched as he stored them in his vest, out of sight and close to his person. “Look for any records of Orochimaru’s medical experiments, go through them and see if you can find anything involving more specific organs and systems rather than just the jutsus themselves, or incidents like Yamato’s. Check for excessive use of electricity on said systems and organs. Make sure to ask this of the living associate. Do whatever you need to find anything from him, I don’t feel like delaying this process any longer.”

“One more thing,” she continued, when he returned his attention to her. She leaned back in her chair and placed her hands on the armrests. “I need ANBU back watching Uchiha Sasuke. I had thought that Haruno Sakura would be able to help me with that, but it turns out she’s not really close enough to get anything out of him. From what I’ve gathered, he’s not settling in as well as the others, keeps to himself, almost rudely quiet. If we’re going to get these kids to a point where we can call them Leaf nin, they need to actually interact with the others in the village. The other parolees don’t seem to have this problem.”

“I’ve heard Juugo keeps to himself as well,” Ibiki pointed out mildly, raising an eyebrow.

“He still leaves his apartment, and despite his… history… no one has reported any problems with him.”

“Hm… I’ll have several members on it, then.”

“Thank you.” 

“Anything else?”

Tsunade quirked a smile. “Figured that was enough for now. This… might be bigger than we anticipated, so we’ll take it by ear.”

“Then I will get right on this, Hokage-sama.”

*

At the exact moment the clock chimed, Juugo showed up in the doorway. He wasn’t bound, but still kept his hands clasped behind him and his eyes cast downward.

“Hokage-sama,” he said.

“Juugo. Come in,” Tsunade said, her voice light and welcoming. Juugo stepped in and looked all around him, his eyes darting quickly from one light to the next, from the tools on the table to the chair against the window, blood pressure cuff dangling off a hook next to the monitor. She could see the muscles bulge in his arms when he looked at the chair, and then he started taking deep breaths, and finally met her eyes.

“You wanted to see me?”

“I did,” Tsunade continued. “I just wanted to see how well your heart is working. Your x-rays showed some scarring, and if it affects your cardiopulmonary system in any way, I would be glad to fix that for you.” She spoke calmly, knowing what Juugo was capable of when angered or frightened.

There was no reason for him to still be so afraid of what he could do. If Orochimaru had fulfilled his side of the bargain, Juugo would probably have been under control a long time ago. But as had always been true in their time as teammates, Tsunade was the only one left to pick up the pieces once Orochimaru dropped the ball.

She had the x-ray clipped up on the board, and she showed it to him, pointing out the individual scars.

“Can you fix…anything else?” Juugo asked, his eyes going from her to the x-ray and back again repeatedly.

“I don’t know yet,” Tsunade continued. “But if there is a way, I will do my best to find it, I promise.” She didn’t make promises lightly, but this boy was owed one.

Juugo nodded. “What do you need me to do?” and then, slightly more uncertain, “What will you be doing?”

“Well, first, I’m going to do an echocardiogram. I’m going to use this machine here…” she walked over to the one in the corner. “And it’s going to use ultrasound in order to give me a picture of your heart and how well it’s working. It will take about a half an hour, since I want to get a very good look at what’s going on here.”

“Is…that it?”

“Depending on what the echo shows me, I might want to get a closer look at things. Lie down on this table, please, and remove your clothing from the waist up.”

Juugo obeyed, and Tsunade placed three electrodes on his chest. “Now, lie on your left side.” She took the sound-wave transducer and moved it across his chest. He let her, though he flinched when the cold gel touched his skin. He remained eerily motionless for the entire procedure, in fact, only rolling onto his right side and then his back when she told him to. He was almost calm, it seemed. She produced enough images of the heart, and let him know when she was done, and then she plucked off the electrodes. 

“Hmm,” she said, looking at the pictures produced by the echo. There were enough problems where it required further analysis. “I’ve still got more to do, but we’ll be done after this test. Here,” she began to prepare for the intravascular ultrasound. “I’m going to pass a transducer through a catheter which I will have to thread through an artery in your groin. It will give me a better picture of what is going on not only in your heart but in the vessels surrounding it, seeing how much further damage there is. There’s more damage than I expected.” She said with a sigh. “I’m going to need you to strip for me and lie down, alright?”

Juugo obeyed, and she was preparing the tools and readying the machine, and didn’t notice the slight change in Juugo’s eyes and the way he was tapping hard and fast against the side of the table.

“Alright,” Tsunade said. “I’m going to pass this through the artery in your groin,” she held up the catheter. “And it’s going to show me a better picture of your heart and the surrounding veins. I’m going to give you an anaesthetic so you won’t move during the procedure, and it’ll be much more comfortable when you’re asleep.”

Juugo nodded, but his jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles were jumping. He was an oddly patient boy, although very tense, twitching at every sound in the room. His heart rate was elevated, breathing shallow. Poor kid, what did they do to you?

First she tied off his upper arm, finding a good vein to inject the anaesthetic into. Then she gently slid the tip of the needle into the vein. Juugo gasped, and then from the site of the needle, horrible black-red lines started crawling across his arm. “No!” Juugo said. “No no no!” The lines raced up his neck and face and for a moment his face was filled with fear and despair, and then it changed, a manic, bloodthirsty gleam coming into his eyes. He started laughing as his muscles bulged and skin changed to a dark, ugly brown, spikes jutted from his arm and on his face, and with a roar he wrenched free of the IV and threw her across the room. She hit the echocardiogram machine hard and they both crashed against the back wall.

“Needles?” Juugo roared. “You touch me with needles, woman?” His clawed hands dug into the floor, then started tearing it up. “I’ll kill you for that! I’ll kill you ALL!” The last word was almost unintelligible as he started breaking all the machines, ripping them apart with ease and extraordinary violence. Then he came down on Tsunade, wrapping his hands around her throat.

This was not going like it was supposed to.

She drew in her legs and then kicked him hard in the chest, sending him skidding backwards. He dug his nails into the floor and stopped just before he crashed into the back desk, leaving deep scores in the tiled floor. She grabbed the machine used to check vitals and shoved it in his direction, giving him a distraction while she tried to find and load a tranquilizer. Every report said that once he flew into a rage, he would attempt to kill and destroy everything in his path until it passed.  

Juugo tore the machine apart and high-pitched whines and beeping filled the air. Tsunade went to the refrigerator and flung it open, reaching in and scrambling for the Ativan liquid solution. Then Juugo slammed into her and she dropped the first vial, glass shattering and liquid splashing on the floor. She swore and gathered her chakra in her arms, then grabbed Juugo’s upper arms and shoved him against the glass and spilled drug. He roared with anger as the tiny shards dug into his face.

“Hokage-sama!” two assistants ran into the room, skidding to a halt when they saw the mess and Juugo. “What…”

“I’m fine, I’ve got this under control. Just get me some fucking Ativan!” She held his arms behind him and gave an extra push, breaking the tiles and digging him further into the ground. “As much as you can, put it in the syringe in the corner and give it to me!”

“Syringe!” Juugo’s voice rang out, rough and furious. “I’LL KILL YOU FIRST BEFORE YOU FUCKING USE THAT!” He flipped around and grabbed a handful of tile, shoving it into Tsunade’s face. Pain flared as the tiles dug into her cheek and blood started dripping onto the floor. She had to let go of one arm to get the tiles out of her face, and he pulled free and started going after the assistant who was filling the syringe. The assistant had enough time to look up before Juugo punched her in the face and sent her flying backward, then he leaped onto her and started tearing out her throat.

Tsunade didn’t have time to think about that, she had to get the damn Ativan into this thing before he did anything else. She ran over and filled the syringe, breathing hard and hoping it was enough.

The needle was filled with enough ativan to knock out three two-hundred pound men, but Tsunade could counter it if it slowed his central nervous system too much. For now, she stuck the needle into his neck and pushed the Ativan, and within the minute he fell unconscious to the ground, and several minutes later the physical changes receded and left just Juugo, passed out on the floor, breathing too slow.

Tsunade had seen worse than this before. But the other members of her staff hadn’t.

“Get Haruno in here,” she said, panting and covered in sweat and blood. “I’m going to need some help cleaning up.”

*

Juugo sat in the middle of the floor with his hands folded and his eyes closed. He didn’t touch anything in his apartment after closing the door. He knew he should change, his clothes were shredded from the transformation, and he knew he should wash, there was blood on his arms, fingers and under his nails. But what he knew and what he actually did were never the same.

The Hokage was a good person. She was kind, she was a brilliant medic and one of the best ninjas of their age. There was no reason to attack her and destroy the lab, no reason to kill one of her assistants who was just trying to be helpful. No reason to have an episode when he had gone years without one.

After a few hours of this, he got up and locked the door, then lay on the couch. He was always tired after an episode, and eventually he fell asleep.

He was woken up by loud banging on his door.

“No one come in here,” Juugo warned, the words out of his mouth before he was on his feet, ready to force whoever it was back out. He needed to be alone, he didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to think about what happened and why it happened at all.

“Yeah?” Karin’s voice sounded from the other side. “Why the hell not?” Then she kicked down the door and walked in. “Ugh, it smells disgusting in here, you need to take a shower.” She turned around and picked the door up, carefully propping it into its frame, then looked him up and down.  Juugo suddenly didn’t even have the energy to protest. “Seriously, go take a shower.”

Juugo found the energy to protest. “Why are you here?”

“Why not?” Karin shrugged. “Heard you broke the Hokage’s lab. That sucks.” She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, digging through it for some food.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Juugo mumbled.

“Fine, I don’t really care.” Karin replied. She pulled out the remnants of an old sandwich. “Why’d you do it? I’m throwing this out, it’s fucking gross. I thought Suigetsu was bad about the shit he left in his fridge.”

“I don’t…I don’t remember.”

“Seriously?” she poked her head back into the living room, holding out the sandwich. “Seriously, do you never clean your fridge? No wonder it smells so bad in here.” She ducked back into the kitchen and threw the sandwich in the garbage. “Don’t remember why you did it? Do you just forget everything when you go crazy?” she paused. “That sucks.”  There was shuffling in the kitchen and the sound of things being thrown in the trash. After five minutes of this, Karin came back into the living room. “Why are you not in the shower? Seriously, you’re disgusting, there’s blood everywhere.”

Juugo wasn’t sure how to respond; he was never sure what to do around Karin, or around Suigetsu, despite their years of knowing each other. The only member of their little band of former Sound nin he was comfortable around was Sasuke, and he seemed to be the only one who was.

She was right in that he should shower. He threw out all his clothes, too, for good measure.

When he came back out, the garbage was filled with old food and what seemed like half of his kitchen. The air smelled of dust and mold and vinegar. Karin was sitting at the table with vinegar-soaked rag next to her, and she was eating some noodle soup. There was another bowl on the other side of the table. “You’d better fucking eat that,” she said. “I bothered to make it, and cleaned your kitchen because it was so disgusting I couldn’t stand to even be here. Probably everyone thought that and that’s why you never have any visitors, ugh.”

Juugo sat down and started eating the soup, realizing he was extremely hungry.  He ate the whole bowl in under five minutes, then he went to the fridge to see if there was anything else to eat. There wasn’t much but he ended up finishing all ofwas left in there. He’d almost forgotten how hungry he was after an episode. He thought he had it all under control after so many years being fine. But that… that …

His hands tightened into fists when he remembered the pull of the tourniquet and the pinch of the needle in his arm. Again. And again. And the Hokage only tried it once but others did it again and again and every day…week, month, hour, in his arm, in his back, in his spine, then deep in his chest, sometimes taking blood and sometimes putting things into his body and --

He felt a hard blow to the side of his head, and Karin stood there scowling. “Don’t start that shit while I’m here, I don’t feel like dealing with it.”

Juugo looked down and saw the dark lines starting to spread across his chest. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths until they receded. The sat back down and put his head in his hands.

“Why’d it happen anyway?”

He shook his head.

“Thought you said it doesn’t randomly happen anymore. Not since the war.”

“I did it on purpose sometimes during the war.”

Karin shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” she replied. “We all did shit like that.” She picked up the bowl and dumped the rest of the noodles into the trash, then put the bowl in the sink. “You clean that, I’m done doing your stupid chores.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She shrugged again. “Whatever. Seriously, why’d you do it? Why’d it happen?”

Juugo sighed, and looked down at his plate. Across from him, Karin huffed in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m going home, clean the rest of your shit yourself.” She pulled down her sleeves and started towards the door.

Juugo still didn’t know why she bothered to come. No one really knew Karin’s motivations, other than she wanted to manipulate everyone around her for one reason or another, and she was still desperately seeking Sasuke’s affections, and constantly in a verbal war with Suigetsu.

“Needles,” Juugo said when she was almost out the door. “She was… needles.”

Karin stopped. “Oh,”

“She was just going to help me. She said there was something wrong with my heart.”

Karin turned around. “Was there?”

“I don’t know. She showed me the x-ray but I don’t know what my heart is supposed to look like. In Sound he never showed me the x-rays he took.”

“Yeah,” Karin agreed. “I don’t think he showed anyone.”

He didn’t know what else to say, and when it stretched on for too long, Karin sighed and left.

Juugo went back to the couch and sat there, rubbing his arm convulsively. This time he was done forever. Whatever it took, he would not have another episode and notkill anyone else, not unless he was in the field doing his duty as a ninja. He’d hoped that this time he might have found a place where he could get himself under control, could be an asset in the field and not a danger to his allies even there, but it seemed it was not to be. It didn’t matter what Tsunade did, what the others did in the past, he was done with this.

He wondered if she would still help him after he wrecked her lab and killed one of her assistants, anyway. He didn’t expect she would. In her situation, he definitely wouldn’t.

He should leave the village before he hurt anyone else.

*

Karin made it a habit to spy on everyone else in the village. Most of them were boring, but she kept an eye on them anyway in case they stopped being boring and started doing something she’d want to use. She wasn’t a warden anymore, but old habits died really hard, and she didn’t know if she actually wanted to shake this habit. It was fun to watch people and see what they’d do.

After she left Juugo’s house, she went to look at Sasuke for a bit. He wasn’t being interesting at all, just sitting in his room reading or something. Still, she always wanted to look at him because he was such a damn fine looking man, and if she had the opportunity she’d watch him all day until he took his clothes off. But his damn sharingan knew she was there half the time and he made her leave. Whatever.

Then she went to see what Suigetsu was doing, which was sleeping. But he heard her and woke up. His eyes shot to the window, but he relaxed when he realized who it was and grinned at her, showing his pointy teeth. Then he phased out of his clothing and waved at her. Perverted asshole. She flipped him off and he saluted her. Why was he always such an asshole? Why did she bother to put up with his stupid immature crap?

That kid with the dog was pretty hot, so she went to look at him for a bit, but the dog was fucking huge and went right after her and she didn’t feel like dealing with that. She probably still smelled like Juugo’s fridge, gross.

Speaking of Juugo… She felt a familiar chakra from nearby, and stopped to follow it. Juugo, heading north. What the fuck was he doing out? No former Taka member did anything without Karin knowing why. She jumped along the roofs, following after him, then landed in front of him. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Juugo froze, and she could see fear on his face, hidden by the cloak he had tossed haphazardly over his large frame. “How did you find me?”

“I felt your chakra, obviously,” Karin rolled her eyes. “I can track all you morons anywhere, did you forget that?”

“Were you looking for me?”

“Not really, I was trying to see the guy with the dog start training, then you got in the way.”

Juugo looked down and folded his hands in front of him. “Sorry,” he said.

“Whatever, I’ll just go look at him later. Hey where are you going? Anywhere interesting?”

Juugo shook his head.

“That’s no fun,” Karin whined. “I followed you here for nothing, then?”

“It would seem so,” Juugo said. He started walking again, quickly and purposefully.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Karin shouted after him. “That’s fucking rude,” she caught up with him in a moment. “Spend a few years away from Sound and think you can be rude to me?”

Juugo whirled on her, anger flaring in his eyes. “I can be rude to whomever I want,” he informed her, calm tone of voice jarring with his tense frame and angry eyes. “And we’re not in Sound anymore, and you’re not our warden and never will be again.”

“Then what, you’re just rude to everyone?”

“No.”

“Then you hate me,” she put her hands on her hips. “You hate me so much you won’t even tell me where you’re going!”

“I’m leaving!” Juugo stated matter-of-factly, stepping away from her. “I’m leaving the village. Sorry,” he added. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone here, they’ve all been terribly kind to me.”

“That’s stupid,” Karin retorted. “Like you’ll be better off anywhere else.”

“Maybe I will be.”

“Wow, you’re really stupid if you think that.”

Juugo flushed. “Don’t call me stupid, Karin.”

“Then stop being stupid. Fuck, we’ve seen half the other villages out there. It’s not going to be any different, so might as well stay here where the rest of us are.”

Juugo hesitated.

“Yeah, you know I’m right, I’m always right. Plus,” she added. “Sasuke is here. What are you gonna do if he needs you for something and you’re not here? Yeah, that’s right.” She nodded firmly when Juugo looked down and started tapping his fingers against his thigh. He always did that when he was thinking. “Yeah he’ll need to do something and go ‘Where the fuck is Juugo?’ and then you won’t be here, whatthen?”

Juugo’s face muscles spasmed, and his fingers tapped quicker and quicker. Good, he was probably going to stay. She didn’t want any of the former Taka members where she couldn’t see them, That would be really problematic if she needed to make them do something later.

“You’re right,” Juugo whispered. “You are.”

“Yeah, of course,” she tossed her hair. “No fucking shit. Go home.”

Juugo was very good at taking orders when he wasn’t in a state. He started home and she followed him the whole way, making sure he actually went into his apartment and stayed put.

That was better. She didn’t need him walking out on her.

Now she could get back to business, and that business probably involved seeing if the man’s dog wasn’t so close to him anymore.

*

Juugo couldn’t and didn’t want to sleep that night, too many snippets of memory crowding his mind when he closed his eyes, old sensory imprints crawling across his skin. But he knew despite that he wasn’t going to leave the village.

*

Tsunade thanked her aide of the day, and waited until she’d left the room and closed the door before raising her eyebrow at the slightly darker shadow in the corner. Ibiki calmly stepped out of it, looking not the least bit concerned about his complete failure to use her door and/or make an appointment like a normal human being. Tsunade decided to pick her battles. “Well?” she asked.

Ibiki nodded respectfully and pulled out a few scrolls. “Hokage-sama.” He somehow managed to find enough room on her desk for the pile, and spread the first out in front of her. “To begin, it appears that Orochimaru’s former notebooks were destroyed. My apologies.” Tsunade waved a hand dismissively, mind already on the scroll in front of her. She had figured the notebooks would be gone, but it was worth it to check.

“What did you come up with, then?”

“This,” Ibiki started, tapping the scroll on the corner, “is a comprehensive report of all the interactions with Orochimaru we were able to discover. This particular scroll has them catalogued by frequency of collaboration and by date of collaboration. This one,” he continued, picking up another and spreading it over the first, “indicates the nature of those collaborations.” He did a few quick handseals and tapped the second scroll. It became partly transparent, allowing enough of the scroll below to appear so that the new information appeared to correlate with the correct collaboration. “As you can see, Orochimaru rarely worked with the same scientist more than once, and in the event that he did, their collaboration rarely correlated with previous collaborations. There were a total of six exceptions.” He picked up a third scroll and opened it up, holding it so that Tsunade could see.

“…Well, of course Danzo was one of them,” Tsunade grumbled.

“Hm,” Ibiki agreed, stern mouth turning down at the edges. There was not a single jounin in Leaf who harbored anything less than dislike for Danzo.

“What about the others?” Tsunade asked, picking up a pen and making a few notes of her own on the research correlation scroll. “What were the projects, and what were the results?”

“Kintaro Amii and Fujusaki Hato,” Ibiki began, indicating the correct scientists on the scroll, “both went to Orochimaru for his expertise in genetic sealing. Their experiments appear to have been largely successful, and resulted in an ability to mimic specific bloodline limits through permanent seal work. Unfortunately, the seals tended to either break down themselves or begin to break down the shinobi utilizing them after repeat uses.”

Tsunade snorted. “Yeah,” she drawled. “That was right up Orochimaru’s alley.”

“Indeed,” Ibiki agreed, “but it has little correlation to the specific medical experiments in which you expressed interest.” He pulled a file out of one of his larger, inner pockets and handed it to her. “That is a preliminary report on the experiments conducted.”

“Hm.” She flipped through the pages until she came across a sketched seal—eight curving lines made a knot at the base of a roughly-drawn palm before sprawling lazily outward. It followed the lines of the hand, and traced up the veins in the wrist, branching out in jagged edges and sharp angles like a tree with a broken trunk and snapped branches. The shape reminded her, suddenly, of the marks on Juugo’s skin as he’d snapped and fallen into an episode—all unleashed adrenaline and unchecked aggression. “Did either of these two work on the cursed seal?” she asked.

“Not that I’m aware of, but it is possible that either the work on the cursed seal or on these seals influenced the other,” Ibiki replied. He tapped a different name, drawing Tsunade’s attention back to the scroll.

“This associate most closely met your requirements,” he explained. “His work appeared to be on specific chakra pathways and the peculiar ways they change when various outside influences are applied. However, his work seemed to be largely through chakra blocks, and occasionally through… forcing a subject to compensate to a hindrance.” Ibiki’s mouth twisted a little, though whether in distaste or interest was hard to say. “It was informative from an interrogation standpoint.”

“Ah,” Tsunade said wryly, holding out a hand for the report. Ibiki handed it to her silently before continuing.

“I bring these three up first because, interestingly enough, they all continued the collaboration without Orochimaru’s direct input after a short period in Sound. Orochimaru sent them a number of assistants over a short period, presumably to continue his part of the collaboration and to report the results to him.”

“Hmmm… that is interesting,” Tsunade murmured carefully, feeling her eyebrows meet her hairline. She carefully put the file down on the desk. “That’s not his modus operandi.”

“No, Hokage-sama,” Ibiki agreed. “Orochimaru was historically very jealous of his work and his assistants. To allow an assistant, let alone several assistants, continue to work with someone after his direct input was no longer necessary was unprecedented in Leaf.”

“Hm…” Tsunade drummed her nails on the closed file, thinking. “Look into those collaborations, and what else the assistants worked on while they were with the collaborators.”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“Now, who’s the next one?”

*

Uchiha Sasuke showed up on time to his operation appointment. Tsunade wasn’t surprised, had in fact planned on it. So far, the fact that Uchiha Sasuke was incapable of being late (or early, but considering he generally looked like any interaction with her was somewhat akin to someone pulling his teeth out one by one, that was expected) to an appointment was the only positive piece of information she’d gathered from this cluster-fuck of an investigation.

So, when Uchiha walked through the door to the operating room and closed it behind him, standing like he was honestly concerned that something was going to jump out of the corner and lick him at any moment, Tsunade was just finishing setting up the IV and operating table. She placed the last disinfected scalpel on the operating bench and turned to him, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Have a seat,” she ordered, gesturing to the operating table, “and change into the robe there. I just have to take a look at your chart and ask you a few standard questions.” She nodded at one of the aides as he let himself into the room quietly, skirted around her patient (who was doing an admirable job imitating an inconveniently placed statue), and picked up the chart. Uchiha tracked the new addition across the room with his eyes, his mouth turning down just slightly at the edges. He didn’t otherwise move.

“I still think the procedure is unnecessary,” Uchiha said, voice steady and emotionless. “My fighting style is very effective, and doesn’t require full lung capacity.” Tsunade sighed and put the chart down, giving the kid her best unimpressed glare.

“We already had this conversation,” she responded, somehow managing to keep her voice from a growl through an impressive amount of effort. “Your lung capacity is 30% lower than it should be. I don’t actually care if you have ways around it, it’s still below accepted standards for nin in the field, and it’s easily treatable. You’ll only be on bedrest for a week and then light duty—which should be easy since you aren’t allowed to take missions right now—for four more.”

“There might be too much scarring for this to change anything,” Uchiha pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “You said so yourself. It’s a superfluous procedure.”

Tsunade crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the operating table, letting her eyes narrow. “As the head medic in this village, I think the probability that it’ll restore some of your lung capacity is high enough that it’s worth the effort on my part and the time on yours,” she told him, definitely growling a little. “Time, by the way, that we’re wasting. Sit your ass down on the table and change or opt out and leave, but pick one and stop stalling.”

“Fine,” Uchiha said, and then turned on his heel and reached for the door, clearly ready to take the “opt out” option and run with it.

“I’ll put your name down on the inactive roster as soon as I get back to my desk,” Tsunade added casually, and smirked as he paused and whirled around again.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t meet physical standards, we don’t send you into the field,” Tsunade explained, letting the smirk widen.

“I’m the best shinobi in the fucking village,” Uchiha snapped, nonchalance shattering like so much hardened clay.

“You take in 30% less air than the average person of your age,” Tsunade responded reasonably. “You’re going to run out and get stabbed through something vital, and then I’ll have to front the expense. That’s the rules, Uchiha. Meet the standards, or I find you a place behind the missions desk. You’re technically a genin, so I can’t give you an Academy position.”

The kid looked ready to spit fire, which, Tsunade reminded herself, was an actual possibility. She grinned and gestured at the operating table. “Sit and change,” she ordered.

He glared impotently at her for another minute, and then closed the door behind him, stalking over to the operating table and sitting down stiffly. He pulled his shirt off with a jerky motion folded it, then dragged the gown onto his shoulders and fastened it in the front before removing his pants. Tsunade wondered if he was under the delusion she hadn’t seen it all before, but left him to it anyway. She picked up the chart, and continued her pre-operation spiel as though she’d never been interrupted. Behind her, the aide returned to actually preparing to assist in an intrusive procedure instead of eavesdropping like a naughty child.

“You’ve already read the specifics of this procedure in the summons, and we discussed them unofficially during your last session, but I am going to go over them again for the official chart. Please feel free to ask questions,” she began, picking up a pen and settling onto a stool. “The problem is that it looks like a number of your ribs broke at some point in the past and then shifted inwards, so that they healed in a way that puts a significant amount of pressure on your lungs and cuts off your air supply.” She paused and waited for his nod of acknowledgement before continuing.

“Today, we’re going to put you under with general anesthesia, then re-break the poorly healed ribs and reset them in the correct position. I will then begin the healing process with medical chakra in order to assure that they do not shift again as they heal. Once you wake up, you will have to keep your ribs bandaged in order to maintain a certain amount of pressure on the healing breaks for a total of five weeks. I am also going to recommend that you stay on bed rest for one week and then refrain from heavy lifting or strenuous activity for about four.” She pulled a piece of paper out of the chart and wrote this down, and then set it on top of Uchiha’s folded clothing.

His eyes followed the movement before settling back on her face. “That’s an official statement of the potential side effects and treatment after you wake up. We’ll give it to you with your clothes at the end of the procedure. Unless you’d like to look at it now?”

“No,” Uchiha said flatly, clamming right back up again. Tsunade rolled her eyes inwardly before looking back at the chart and flipping to the page with the information for this procedure.

“Because of the nature of the breaks, your rib cage is going to be particularly delicate for a period, so you should keep as much weight off of your chest as possible.” She looked up from her chart at her patient, who was staring at her silently, hands carefully placed on his thighs and mouth set in a line. He was doing that statue imitation again, it seemed. “Any questions?” she prompted.

“No,” he said, this time more vehemently. She rolled her eyes openly this time as she motioned the aide over to do the preliminary checks.

“My aide is going to take your blood pressure, check your pupils, and ask you a few questions. I am going to go into the other room and put on sterile clothing. I’ll be back in just a minute, and we’ll get started.” She nodded at the aide, who nodded back and walked over to Uchiha with the blood pressure sleeve, and then left the room.

Washing her arms and putting on sterile scrubs went far too quickly, and soon she was back in the room. Uchiha had switched positions until he was lying on the table, and the aide had clearly lowered the head so that he’d be more comfortable once the anesthetic kicked in. The heart rate monitor was already hooked up, too, and the aide was placing an oxygen mask over his face and explaining that it was a standard precaution in the event that something went wrong during the surgery.

Uchiha had his jaw set like he was thinking of biting if the aide foolishly put hands too close to his mouth. Tsunade turned away and put on a pair of sterile gloves and a face mask, and then picked up the results of the pre-op eval. “Try to relax,” she heard the aide say, sounding like he was trying to be soothing. “I’m just going to sterilize the area where the IV will enter your arm.”

“I guessed,” Uchiha responded sarcastically, voice muffled by the oxygen mask, “from the alcohol swab.”

“General rule of thumb: don’t snap at people who are going to be cutting you open while you sleep,” Tsunade said absently, walking over as she looked at the results. It seemed Uchiha’s blood pressure was a little elevated, and his pupils were responsive but dilated more than normal. Looked like he was nervous after all. Huh.

The aide traded her the chart for the IV needle as she walked by, and she nodded in thanks as she reached where Uchiha was lying. “This is going to sting a little,” she told him on rote, positioning his arm for the needle (his skin was a little clammy, actually. She’d have to keep an eye on that to make sure it wasn’t an indication of a problem). “Make a fist.”

Uchiha hesitated for a second, and then did as he was ordered. She nodded as the vein in his inner elbow popped up, and slid the needle home in one smooth movement. She felt him stiffen slightly when the needle pierced his skin, but when she looked at him he was staring at the ceiling and paying more or less no attention to her. She rolled her eyes.

“Let me know when you’re ready for the anesthetic,” she told him, reaching behind her for the needle the aide had prepared. She checked it one more time, making sure it was the right dose and didn’t have any air at the tip, and then waited for Uchiha’s eye roll and jerky nod.

She rolled her eyes in return, and injected the general anesthetic into the IV. She turned to the operating bench and signaled the aide over, reaching out for the first scalpel and checking the chart one last time. First break was on the left side, so she’d make an incision at—

The heart rate monitor went crazy as Uchiha’s breathing changed—shallow and panic-fast. She whirled around just in time to see fear-stricken eyes as he rolled off the operating table, taking the IV with him. The pole tipped over towards the operating table, metal feet hitting the metal legs holding the operating table with a loud clatter. Uchiha rolled into a crouch and ripped the line out of his arm, and then tipped the table itself over and scrambled backwards towards a corner. The IV, carried by the momentum from the table, fell onto the operating bench and knocked most of the implements onto the floor. The table hit the ground with an almighty crash.

Tsunade had sprung free of the area the moment she’d seen the kid start to move, and now found herself with her back to the door and a scalpel in her hand. She released the cutting jutsu in her other hand, and kept the scalpel. “Out,” she shouted as the door opened and a few of her personal guard tried to enter (being Hokage had its perks—Tsunade had her own personal guard within shouting distance of her at all times, which was the main reason why her more high-security patients had always been given a modicum of privacy). She didn’t pay attention to whether they listened, instead watching the (very dangerous) eighteen year old currently hyperventilating in a corner of her operating room, eyes darting after things that definitely weren’t there. The bloody needle was on the ground between him and the carnage, smearing red onto the clean tiles. “Shit,” Tsunade snapped out between gritted teeth. “Uchiha!”

The brat was ignoring his arm, which was bleeding sluggishly down from his elbow in thick red lines. They ran down over the summoning tattoo on his wrist and into the lines on his hand before pooling on his clenched fingers and dripping slowly off onto the tile. He was still breathing too fast, almost hyperventilating, loud in the now silent room, back plastered to the wall and fists clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. The smell of blood slowly mixed with the antiseptic in the room. He was crouched like he’d spring at anyone who got too close, eyes so wide that his pupils were visible even in his black eyes for the instant before they bled sharingan red.

“Uchiha!” Tsunade tried again. “Sasuke!”

“No,” he gasped, pushing against the wall. He was turning alarmingly white.

“Sasuke,” Tsunade snapped. “Look around you. You are having a flashback. Listen to what I am saying, kid, you are seeing things that aren’t there.” She’d seen this enough times before to know.

Sasuke made a gasping sound and bit his lip until it bled, a single line staining his teeth and then catching between this lip and chin. He looked… very young, and very scared. Tsunade realized that he hadn’t tried to defend himself yet. “You… you have to ask him first. You can’t…”

“Sasuke! You’re here, in Leaf, with me,” Tsunade said, trying to make her voice calmer and more matter of fact. “What you are seeing is not happening. Tell me if you’re hearing this, kid.”

“You have to ask,” he snapped, eyes fluttering. “You… he said… can’t touch the Vessel without asking him…” That was the oxygen hitting his brain, then, along with the anesthesia finally starting to kick in. He’d probably been put under before—it was taking longer than it should have to take effect. It didn’t look like the blood loss was a problem yet, and Tsunade decided not to think about that possibility too much.

“Sasuke,” Tsunade tried again, even softer. “Sasuke, you are in Leaf. You are in Leaf and you are having a flashback. Come on, kid. Try to look around you. Can you see this room? Sasuke.” She took a measured step towards him.

His eyes snapped to her, and then flitted away again on a gasp, falling on the needle. He made a gasping, terrified sound that seemed to have aspirations of being a sob, and sunk down onto his knees. He pressed his bloody hand onto the floor and pushed himself backwards, pushing another against his chest like it hurt. “You… please, you have to ask Orochimaru,” Sasuke insisted, voice cracking. “You… have to ask…” his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped, finally passing out.

“Fuck,” Tsunade snapped again. “No, don’t get near him.” The aide, who had moronically started moving towards the kid, stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. “I’ll do it. You go tell the ANBU hovering outside the door that I’m going to need to transfer him back to his apartment in a few minutes.”

The aide cleared his throat, obviously pulling his professionalism around him like a cloak. “Yes, Hokage-sama,” he said, and left the room.

Tsunade waited for the door to close behind him before picking up a roll of bandages and some antiseptic wipes and making her way cautiously over to the boy. He was slumped against the wall, eyelids fluttering, breathing back to normal. He didn’t move as she approached—well, he shouldn’t. The anesthesia they used on ninja of his quality would put out a fucking elephant. She knelt down in front of him, paying no mind to the blood that stuck to the pants of her scrubs, and reached out for his arm, uncurled his fist. He’d dug his nails into his palm until they bled. She sighed and opened one of the wipes. “Who were you talking to, kid?” she asked aloud. “Why didn’t you try to defend yourself? You could’ve blasted everyone in this room. Why didn’t you?”  

Sasuke didn’t respond.

She sighed and reached for his elbow, cleaning some of the blood off before pressing some cotton to the wound and bandaging it firmly to keep some pressure on it and stop the bleeding. Then she moved down to his palms and cleaned them off with a few swipes of a new antiseptic wipe. She bandaged that, too, and then moved to the other arm.

“Sorry, kid,” she murmured. “I should have noticed you were so close to the edge, there, huh? Really fucking experienced medic, right here…” He’d been covered in panic sweat when she’d inserted the IV, and his eyes had been dilated. She should have focused on that instead of the heart rate. Of course the little brat would know how to slow that down—she’d already noticed that he was way too good at masking weakness.

With that in mind, it was easy to reassess his actions and turn “annoyance” into “terror.” Particularly since he’d stopped talking at all when she’d made a quip about operating on him while he slept.

That had probably not been the best thing to say, in hindsight.

She finished with that hand and checked the rest of him over quickly, to make sure he hadn’t gotten injured in some other way in his mad dash across the room. He hadn’t, fortunately. She took a length of bandage and wiped some of the blood off his lip.

Apparently, she’d been barking up the wrong tree with this investigation. Or maybe an adjacent tree. There was one person she could think of who might fit the bill, and there could have been others like him.

She stepped back as two ANBU entered with a stretcher. “Take him to his apartment and have someone keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t wake back up in a flashback.”

She left the room before they had a chance to respond. She needed to talk to Ibiki.

*

Sound’s bases all had a particular scent—musty and damp, with a tang of cold salt from the minerals in the walls and smoke from the oil lamps and torches that gave its inhabitants some semblance of light. Sasuke smelled the walls of his old room in Sound before he opened his eyes to them, mind slowed from kicking off the anesthetic and blood loss and limbs heavy with—

He froze, and tried to move his arms again.  The straps dug into his wrists, making his fingers throb from the slow loss of circulation. He gasped, sharp against his raw throat, and felt the cords holding him to a backboard tighten against his shoulders and legs—too tight, too tight, that asshole always bound you too tight if he didn’t want you to move, what had—

The memory forced itself through the fog in his brain, of lying on his stomach with his arms and legs bound, the cold, sharp pain of an incision at his back and the click of an electrode that shot through his entire body, and the blood in his mouth as he bit down on his tongue as that fucking voice warned him to say if he stopped feeling his legs, and then the electricity had started and he’d screamed anyway. His back and legs throbbed, as though waiting for him to remember just to hurt, and he couldn’t breathe—

Something landed on his chest, and he kicked it off before even really thinking that it shouldn’t be possible while tied to a backboard.

“Ow! You asshole, those were my fucking ribs. Damn it, fuck, ouch, what is wrong with you—“

Naruto shouldn’t be in Sound either.

Sasuke blinked, and felt the room shift around him a little, his room somehow ending up alongside his other room, the one in his new apartment in Leaf, with the window that he’d screened so he could keep it open and the huge, thick, heavy bedspread and one blond idiot clutching his ribs on Sasuke’s floor and keeping up an impressive litany of insults for someone who was insisting his ribcage was shattered. Sasuke’s stomach rolled, and he sat up and drew his knees to his chest, disoriented. He felt sick.

His back was still throbbing.

“Shut up,” he snapped, voice cracking. He felt his throat and lungs burn from even that, and he realized he was panting. He forced his breathing slower and tried again. “Shut up, you loud, obnoxious, moronic waste of space, why the fuck would you jump on someone while they’re sleeping—“

“Fuck you, see if I snap you out of it next time you have a fucking seizure or whatever the fuck was going on there—“

“It’s called a nightmare, you idiot.” Sasuke’s head throbbed and the cords tightened on his ribs again, the room shifting back towards Sound, with its cold and its damp musty stone. His throat tightened, and he forced the words out to the apparition of Naruto lying on cobblestone in the dark. “Maybe you’ve heard of them, people with brains occasionally—“

“I fucking know what a nightmare is, you jackass, your eyes were open—“ Naruto pounded on the floor—stone?—deep blue carpet for emphasis, the sound muffled by the wool fibers, glinting on sunlight in a cold, dark room. “—and I fucking said your name four times, it’s not my fault you—“

“Shut up,” Sasuke snapped again, and shut his eyes tight against the rolling in his stomach. He breathed again, feeling the cold start to let go of his bones a little, the warm sunlight finally reaching him through the memory, leaving him shaky and weak and sore, but very much not in Sound. He swallowed, and let go of one leg to swipe at his face. “There’s no dealing with you, fuck.”

Naruto made a huffy noise, and Sasuke lifted his head and looked over to see Naruto reclining on the floor, scowl firmly in place and jaw working, like he had a few things to say about that but, due to some sort of miracle, had decided not to let whatever it was spew out of his mouth in a litany of self-righteous crap for once.

He breathed in carefully, and choked on the last vestiges of damp stone, stuck in his nose like he’d left it just a minute ago, like he hadn’t been here in his room the entire time. The sudden urge to blow his nose got him carefully straightening his legs and swinging them off the bed, ignoring the numb stiffness he always had in the mornings and after pushing too hard for too long with the ease of long practice, and took a determined step towards his bathroom.

His knees tried to give out on him, and the room spun from the drug still leaving his system, but if Naruto noticed the moment of shooting panic before Sasuke got his shit back under control he didn’t say anything.

“I was at the hospital,” Sasuke stated, reaching for a tissue and blowing the rest of the memory out of his nose. He felt… it was hard to say. Calm was the wrong word. He felt like he was holding onto composure by his finger nails, and he certainly wasn’t what anyone would term steady. But he felt—detached? He poked idly at the feeling, and then stopped immediately as panic bubbled up from underneath.

“What?” Naruto asked, walking over to lean the door to the bathroom, not quite blocking the door with his fat ass. “In your dream you mean?”

Sasuke twitched, and eyed Naruto as cuttingly as he could. Like he’d talk about his dreams with anyone. Naruto was grating on Sasuke’s last nerve, making his skin crawl. He was blocking the exit, and Sasuke didn’t like it. “No, you stupid waste of space. Before I woke up. I was at the hospital with the Hokage.” Naruto stared blankly, and Sasuke, in what he felt was a heroic effort, did not slam Naruto’s useless blond head into the doorframe. “How did I get from there to here?”

“ANBU brought you,” Naruto said, raising an eyebrow. “You freaked out before Baa-chan could get going, and passed out like a little girl. They brought you home and stuck me on babysitting duty. And then you tried to kick in my ribs.”

Sasuke felt his control snap. He grabbed Naruto by the front of the shirt and tugged, got in his face with a snarl, so gloriously angry he was breathless with it. “Get. Out. Of my apartment.”

Naruto snarled back, bared his teeth wide enough that Sasuke could see his canines, the lines on his face stretched to look like whiskers, eyes shining in—was that triumph?

“Fuck you,” Naruto growled, and then grabbed Sasuke’s arms and hooked his still shaky knees. Sasuke went down like a fucking log, but he held onto Naruto’s shirt and took him with him, making sure to hit Naruto right in the ribs with both his feet as he threw Naruto over him and into the toilet. The ceramic shattered with a crash, water shooting out of the pipe as the toilet fell to pieces, ceramic dust clogging the air and pasting onto the two men as they rolled onto their feet. Naruto made a sound that was half a gasp (bruised ribs) and half a bark of laughter, lunged at Sasuke’s legs and used his weight to propel Sasuke ass over teakettle out of the bathroom. He punched the air out of Sasuke’s lungs and used the momentum to leave Sasuke behind, jumped to his feet and planted himself near the window, sliding it open almost as an afterthought. “That the fucking best you can do?” he asked, only a little breathless from the chest injury because he was a fucking cheating jinkuuriki who healed in fucking seconds.

Sasuke snarled and shoved off the ground, caught Naruto by surprise with a solid punch under the chin, and back kicked him through the window. Naruto caught the ledge at the last minute and slid down the building, chakra-laced feet leaving burnt streaks on the wood as he went. Sasuke jumped out after him, intent on wiping that fucking grin off Naruto’s fucking face, who the fuck did he think he was, Sasuke was going to rip his face off—

The damp, hot breeze passed over the town, carrying with it sun-baked wood rot and the first stirrings of ozone. The rain wouldn’t come for another six hours, after the sun had fallen and Sasuke and Naruto had cheerfully beaten each other almost unconscious in a mad game of deadly tag through the village that ended in the river near the bridge where their genin team used to meet. And if Sasuke wasn’t quite as solid on his feet as he usually would be, Naruto was probably too dumb to notice.

*

Tsunade put down the medical chart in front of her before Ibiki even entered the door to her office, mouth set and eyes intent on her new source of information. “Report,” she ordered, not even waiting for him to finish closing the door and turn around completely. Ibiki blinked at her, but complied.

“Uchiha Sasuke came to at approximately 1430 hours, apparently in the throes of another flashback. Uzumaki Naruto had already been stationed in his room for such an eventuality, and managed to provide a grounding presence throughout the episode. Shortly thereafter, he provided a quick distraction.”

Tsunade made a face. “Yeah. He distracted him all over the fucking village. Did he report himself?”

“No, Hokage-sama.”

“Well, when he does, tell him he is cleaning up the property damage by his fucking self.” Tsunade sat back in her chair again and sighed. “Did he at least manage to get those reflex tests I asked for?”

“Again, Hokage-sama, I don’t have the information at this time.” Ibiki looked a little put out. “He hasn’t reported in, and the ANBU guard on Uchiha thought it would be… imprudent to interrupt.”

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. “Imprudent?”

Ibiki shrugged from his at-ease position. “No more a problem than usual yet.”

“Hmmm…” Tsunade let it go. Those two were a headache and a half, even for the third member of their team, and Tsunade was not about to get into the middle of it. She had more important things to worry about.

“Good. I want that report as soon as it’s in, even if it’s just another bout of Naruto lying through his teeth about Uchiha’s mental state. That said, I’d like to talk to you about the… related investigation.” Ibiki nodded politely to indicate that he knew what Tsunade was talking about, and she continued. “Recent intelligence into the parolees seems to indicate that…” she paused, felt her mouth twist into a frown. Juugo had broken nearly a year’s worth of control over a routine blood test, and Sasuke’d had a full out flashback and panic attack in the preliminary stages of an operation—had spoken to someone who wasn’t there as though this was something that had happened before.

“They seem to indicate,” she said again, “that someone who had regular access to them in a medical role may have been responsible for the incidents we are investigating.”

Ibiki frowned. Tsunade wondered if he had understood who she was referring to. He was head of intelligence for the village, after all. He would know about the man she was thinking about. “You would like me to change the direction of the investigation, then?”

“I would,” Tsunade said, frowning. “Whoever had access to the Vessel and the foundation for the cursed seal was rather high in Orochimaru’s organization. Likely, Orochimaru would have trusted them with other projects. Perhaps even allowed them to work as his representative during collaborations outside of Sound. I want you to look into the aides he sent directly—see if there are any patterns in the type of work they do.”

“Understood, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki looked grave, eyes hooded, as though he were already reorganizing the investigation in his head. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Tsunade said, equally grim. “Tomorrow morning, order the parolees back into interrogation. Apparently, they neglected to tell us something.”

 

Part I