Chapter Text
Though he hadn't hesitated to follow Sakura out the door, swept up as he had been by her enthusiasm, Shin's common sense catches up to him once he realises where Sakura is leading them:
The secret enterance to ROOT, by the Uchiha Compound. The same one the three of them used four years prior to hold up his promise to Shisui.
He catches her wrist seconds before she can reach for the flap that hides the entrance, an apologetic smile on his face when she visibly startles, as if having forgotten he was there.
"Not that I'm not glad at your enthusiasm," he begins carefully, "but weren't you supposed to have team training today?"
Sakura's gaze darts away from his before she forcefully makes herself look him in the eye and answer.
"I was. I did have it. And it resulted in me taking a leave of absence for a week."
Shin carefully monitors his expression to make sure he doesn't react outwardly at the news, then sighs. "Okay, there's a story there. C'mon, Sakura, tell me."
Sakura bristles, twisting her wrist out of his grasp and reaching for the trapdoor again.
"Don't you want me to heal your lungs?" she asks bluntly, and Shin steps forward and slams his foot on the opening door, forcing it shut again.
"My lungs have been varying degrees of fucked for the last decade." he informs her calmly, almost cheerfully, in contrast to his actions. "They can wait another ten minutes for you to tell me what's on your mind."
Sakura eyes him, whether distrustful of his intentions or just the notion of sharing what's got her down, he can't be sure, but when she finally caves and tells him, Shin very carefully doesn't wince.
He studies the anger and the resentment and the hurt that's still swirling in Sakura's eyes, compares her reaction to what he knows of Hatake...and sighs.
"Sakura, look at me." he requests quietly, but Sakura's adamantly not meeting his gaze now, looking anywhere but at him while trying to pretend like she's not avoiding him.
Shin decides that he's good enough with words that he won't need eye-contact to make his message strike home, and speaks.
"I know it's perhaps not the best idea to say this to someone who'll have my lungs in her hands in the very near future, but just...humour me, okay?" he asks gently, not continuing until he gets a small, grudging nod.
Then, he gets serious.
"Why do you think Hatake wasn't taking you seriously?" he demands, and the tone of his voice lets Sakura know that he wants an answer this time, and she gives one, albeit grudgingly.
"He's a genius." she tells him sullenly. "Moreso than even Itachi. He’s like you and Shisui but with two decades of experience of being a shinobi. He could wipe the floor with me. He should’ve wiped the floor with me."
Shin closes his eyes for a split second, sends a quick prayer for patience, then grabs Sakura's chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns her head until she has no choice but to look at him.
"Sakura, have you ever considered that you're a genius too?" he asks, and he sees the immediate denial that rises up, and he presses forward, before she has the chance to articulate it.
"You're terrifying. You've mastered an extinct Nature Transformation, you have a contract with a Noble Summons, a solid mastery of most elements, your taijutsu is formidable, you've got perfect chakra control, you've weaponised medical ninjutsu, and you've got Shisui-taught speed and sneakiness. Hatake is an even match for you. The only thing he has on you is that damn eye of his, and the size of his chakra coils." he informs her, so bluntly and factually that she has no leg to stand on if she wants to refute him.
Then, he reconsiders, and adds with a huffed laugh. "Though, on second thought, your comprehension renders any genjutsu moot, so he can't even hold that over you. Consider that."
He can see Sakura's brain whirring as she throws his words around and tries to find a way to downplay her abilities again. He really should've asked earlier about the reason behind the almost crippling self-doubt she sometimes engages in. The girl he knows has no reason to doubt herself or her skills, and it doesn't make sense for her to have acquired any self-esteem issues before he met her.
Then, he pushes those musings to the back of his mind to be pulled apart later, and drives the nail in the metaphorical coffin and concludes;
"After a year of being teammates, I'd have assumed you knew Hatake for the man he is rather than whatever flawless, untouchable image most people have constructed of him."
"I do." Sakura snaps, defensive, his accusation knocking her out of her head, and she shoots him a baleful glare.
But Shin is undeterred. "Then, do you truly think he went easy on you? That he was using the spar to spy on you? Or do you think that you went into the spar with the expectation that you wouldn't win, and let whatever insecurity you cling to in regards to your abilities affect your view of it?"
"What are you saying?" Sakura asks quietly, and her earlier indignation has melted to something smaller, sharper. "That I went in biased? That I was unfair to Kakashi?"
Shin meets her gaze unhesitatingly and inclines his head. "Yes. That's precisely what I'm saying."
He thinks Sakura is going to slap him, snap at him, explode, or something that would release the violence he can see brewing in her eyes.
Instead, she bites her lip and crosses her legs, sitting down unceremoniously as she rests her elbow on her bent knee and places her chin in her hand, deep in thought.
Shin...stares.
Perhaps, where Sakura had been unfair to Hatake, he'd been unfair to her, underestimating how much she values his opinion after all these years. After all, instead of snapping and burying herself in her denial, Sakura is instead thinking about what he'd said, and, knowing her, likely considering so many more elements of the situation than he'd even been aware of.
After what feels like a few minutes but could've easily been half an hour, she nods, and when she looks up at him, there's a small, uncertain smile on her face.
"You...might be onto something." she admits, not quite sheepishly, but with a degree of bashfulness he wasn't expecting. "Now, can we heal your lungs?"
This time, Shin doesn't stop her as she opens the trap-door.
When Sakura had first looked at Shin's lungs, back in the dungeons that passed for ROOT dorms, the disease afflicting his lungs had been brutal, but despite what Shin had claimed, it hadn't been life-threatening.
What she sees once she lays him down in the dust-covered medical-wing of the abandoned ROOT HQ that takes a whole half-hour to sterilize, is different.
A lot different.
The cancer has not only spread from the lungs to the surrounding tissue, but is far, far faster-acting than the disease he was suffering from before. Sakura closes her eyes as a wave of almost unbearable guilt washes over her, and knows that the anger she feels at the incompetence of the nurses is just her psyche's attempt at lessening her own hand in allowing Shin to go untreated for so long.
She could've healed him in ROOT. She should've healed him in ROOT. But she'd been so scared of showing her hand too early, of being more competent than she'd had any right to be, of, kami forbid, someone finding out her secret, that she'd allowed the boy she thought of as a brother to live with a lung disease and develop an opioid addiction at the age of thirteen.
No more.
Her negligent behaviour would stop right here, right now.
Sakura takes a deep breath, rolls up her sleeves, and sets to work.
Shin wakes from the anaesthetic slowly. He blinks to consciousness in the dim light of the med-bay and takes a slow, careful breath.
No pain.
He sits up, hand rising automatically to his chest, and prepares himself for the stabbing pain as he opens his mouth and takes a deep breath that reaches all the way to his belly.
No pain.
No wheezing exhale, no cough, no blood, no breathlessness as he swings his legs over the edge of the operating table and gets to his feet. His head spins, but his breathing remains even and painless.
He's on the edge of tears with his joy, but then his eyes fall on the figure curled in the corner and his joy is momentarily replaced with concern.
Sakura is sleeping, or passed out, he's not quite sure. She looks oddly small, laying there, like she's actually a twelve-year-old kid and not this larger-than-life maternal sister-figure Sai takes her for. Her skin is almost deathly pale, and there are bright, purpling shadows under her eyes, while her breathing, despite being asleep, is shallow.
Shin knows the signs, even though it's been a while since he's experienced it. Chakra exhaustion.
"You idiot." he chastises fondly, despite nobody being there to hear it. He carefully pulls out his IV - and he has no clue where Sakura procured it from but hey, it’s Sakura – then walks over to his sister’s sleeping form and gently scoops her into his arms, heading for the door once she's secure.
He can't remember the last time he felt this good. And he can't wait to tell Shisui.
When Sakura wakes, she’s on their sofa, one of the crochet throw blankets draped carefully over her while Shin sits cross-legged on the floor, back leaning against the arm of the couch, a complex-looking scroll on Wind jutsu spread across his lap.
(Sakura has a sneaking suspicion it’s one of the scrolls she saved from the Uchiha compound. She smiles inwardly.)
“How are you?” she asks, her voice scratchy, and winces at the pounding headache that’s made itself at home in her temples, reaching up with green-glowing fingers almost automatically. She can’t sense Sai anywhere in the house, which is odd, but she dismisses the thought for the time being.
“I think I should be asking you that question.” Shin replies teasingly, turning his head so he can look at her, and already Sakura can see that the pallor of his skin has given way to a more natural peach tone, the ever-present concealer he had taken to wearing under his eyes years back conspicuously missing. “Chakra exhaustion, Sakura? Really?”
Sakura shrugs, unable to resist joining in on Shin’s happiness despite her instinctive defensiveness at the question.
“Worth it.” She says simply, and watches as Shin’s joy doesn’t necessarily fade, but his gaze turns sharper, though not unfriendly.
“How did you know you could do it? And why now?” he asks, as if despite himself, unable to resist.
Why now? Sakura echoes inwardly, a fresh wave of guilt sweeping over her. Why now, indeed? Cause I was mad at Kakashi? Cause I wanted to feel like I could do something? Cause I wanted to spit in the face of fate and destiny and the Sandaime and save someone who was doomed to die young?
“I didn’t.” she replies, lying instead of voicing her turbulent thoughts, and adds a shrug for good measure. “But I knew what had to be done, and I was tired of being too scared to do it.”
Too scared, or too selfish? Too focused on my own goals to help someone I call a brother? Self-loathing joins the guilt, and Sakura struggles to hold Shin’s gaze and keep her expression even.
If Shin had any less control over his expression, Sakura’s willing to bet he would’ve been gaping.
“Well…what did you do?” he asks eventually, as if unsure whether he wants to know the answer.
“Used my chakra to burn out all the cancerous cells, then dealt with the cancer itself.” She says, and when Shin’s expression doesn’t clear any, Sakura sighs and settles into lecture-mode.
“Right. Cancer is dangerous because of the metastasis, right? Where one type of cells multiplies rapidly and invades other important organs, yeah?” she waits until Shin nods.
“Well, what chemotherapy does, is it targets those fast-multiplying cells. So it can reduce the rate at which the cells spread, or get rid of them completely. Think of hair! Hair is an example of a fast-multiplying cell, which is why chemo patients lose it first.”
She waits for another nod.
“But cancer can evolve a resistance to the drugs used in chemo. Which is why I preferred not to give it the chance to and took matters into my own hands, so to speak.”
“You…targeted the cancerous cells? With your chakra?” Shin asks, his voice oddly flat, and Sakura nods in confirmation. “You did what chemotherapy drugs would do over a period of months, in the space of three days, and with only your chakra?”
This time, Sakura’s a little slower to nod, unsure what he’s getting at, but she does, eventually, because, well. She did.
“I…need a moment.” Shin sighs and curls up, dropping his forehead down on his bent knees and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Shin?” Sakura checks cautiously, more than a little perplexed at the sudden change in mood. “What’s wro-?”
“Do you know,” Shin interrupts, cutting her off, “that whatever you did wasn’t even offered as an option at the hospital?” he asks, lifting his head and piercing her with his gaze, his eyes as always seeing far more than Sakura wants them to.
“How much do you want to bet that if I went to the hospital right now and proposed your solution, I’d be laughed out?”
Sakura swallows, but stays silent, and Shin must take her silence as confirmation because he sighs explosively and visibly tries to calm down.
“How did you know what to do?” he asks at last, and his tone is equal parts suspicious and pleading. “Because I know next to nothing about medical jutsu, but even I can guess that what you did must’ve required insane amounts of control.”
Think fast. Sakura thinks desperately, because she doesn’t think that ‘I’m from an alternate timeline where I was eighteen and had surpassed a Sannin and you were dead’ is an explanation that they’re ready for just yet.
“I found a scroll.” She says finally, spinning the lie as she goes. “An old one. It was Tsunade’s before she was Tsunade. It detailed an experimental technique to cure cancer-like diseases. It was never introduced into wide-spread practise because it requires control in the 98th percentile. But if there’s anything I can claim as uniquely my own, it’s my chakra control. I knew I could do it. Hypothetically. I just…needed a push to not worry about why I shouldn’t.”
Shin’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“Tsunade? Senju Tsunade? ‘Best medic-nin in the Elemental Nations’ Tsunade?” he checks, and Sakura snorts.
“Do you know any other?” She asks flippantly, but Shin is still just staring. “You’re really starting to freak me out.” She adds after a moment, and Shin seems to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into.
“Next time I hear you doubting yourself, I’m not going to patiently explain why you shouldn’t, like I did a few days ago. I’m straight up going to smack you.” He tells her at last, his voice completely serious. “This is incredible, Sakura. Surely you realise that?”
Sakura laughs, then shrugs in the face of Shin’s frown.
“You needed treatment. The hospital isn’t in the place it needs to be in to be able to provide it. It was this or watching you wither away before my eyes.”
Shin is silent for a long time after that.
“You’re insane.” He says finally, and then there are arms around Sakura’s neck and a face tucked into her shoulder.
“Thank you.” Shin whispers into the hug, and Sakura slowly brings her arms up and wraps around her brother in all but blood, squeezing back.
Whatever the consequences of her actions may be, even if her secret will have to come to light, it will have been worth it.
Shino studies Sai as the other boy packs up his things, and he smiles softly from behind the collar of his jacket.
Where the other boy can normally fit right in with the rest of the Aburame or even the Hyuuga with his blank face and even tone, today, Sai’s movements are almost giddy, and Shino is willing to bet that if he were an Aburame, Sai’s kikaichu would’ve been buzzing.
Sai was a friend he hadn’t expected to make, particularly not after Torune, but there was something about the raven that had intrigued Shino, and, well, he’s always enjoyed mysteries.
He found it curious how Sai often seemed older than his years, but also possessed an innocent type of naïveté that was normally beaten out of shinobi-hopefuls in the Academy, but Sai seemed impervious to Mizuki’s stern ‘the real world is not your playground game of ninja’ talks, looking at the man with an almost…amused expression.
It was…heartening, in a way, especially after Shino had gotten the opportunity to pick at Sai’s brain a little, either through board games or debates or discussions with the other boy and his father.
He’d discovered that behind the blank face and childlike innocence hid a steel-trap of a mind and an intelligence that could run circles around a Nara. He had been glad when his father had expressed his approval of Sai, because Shino didn’t think he would have been happy to give up his first friend outside of the family.
“Has something happened?” he asks when the classroom empties, and it’s just him and Sai and Iruka-sensei at the front of the room. “Why? You seem more…cheerful than usual.”
Sai slings his bag over his shoulder and turns to look at Shino, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile, and Shino doesn’t think he’s ever seen the other boy smile so wide before.
“My aniki was healed.” Sai tells him, and even his voice is lighter, cheerier. “His lungs are- his lungs are healthy again.”
Shino understands Sai’s joy and can’t help but join in, aware of just how much the other boy idolises his siblings and how worried he’s been by his brother’s state that refused to improve.
“Congratulations.” Shino offers woodenly, the standard expression falling from his mouth with the pressure of the possibility of other people overhearing them. He relaxes once they step out onto the outside grounds and discover that they are blissfully empty, all the students and parents having gone home.
“I’m happy for you and your brother.” He adds in a more genuine tone, and Sai brightens even more, if that were possible. “I take it the hospital found a treatment?”
“No,” the raven shakes his head, “Aneue healed him.”
.
Shino pauses.
“I…wasn’t aware your sister was a medic-nin.” He says slowly, carefully, and luckily Sai’s still too happy to catch onto his suspicion because he just shakes his head and seems to almost bounce at Shino’s side.
“She’s not. But she has perfect chakra control, so she taught herself in order to heal aniki and then she did.” He divulges, the last part in breathy wonder, and apparently not seeing anything amiss with the announcement because he takes Shino’s hand to steer them towards the agemono stand.
“She must be very skilled.” Shino observes finally, inclining his head in thanks when Sai pays for and hands him a box of gobo chips.
“Mmhm!” Sai all but chirps and digs into his own tempura.
“You’re…excited?” Shino asks, testing the word in his mouth but it seems right to describe Sai’s uncharacteristic energy. “Why?”
And Sai beams, eyes crinkling even more, tempura-stuffed cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s.
“Because with aniki healthy, he can take the Jounin Exams, and once I graduate and aneue drops out of ANBU, we can be a real unit.” He explains all in one breath, and then seems to sag, as if the news had been the helium that was making him so light and excited.
ANBU. Jounin Exams. Shino remembers the first time he’d met Sai’s sister, remembers the split-second feeling of ice in his veins and a weight on his very soul that made him feel like he’d never be happy again.
[He’d later found out that it was called ‘Killing Intent’ and that only strong ninja or people who truly hated ever used it in battle; he’d guessed, then, that Sai’s sister must have belonged to both categories, for the Intent to have slipped out so potently and in a simple conversation.]
But to have it confirmed so casually that their peer – because that’s what Sai’s sister was, despite the boy’s obvious reverence for her – was in ANBU, and that Sai’s brother, despite having struggled with a lung disease for over a decade, was easily jounin level…it lent credence to Shino’s growing theory, one that was only confirmed every time he had Sai over and his father would shoot glances that were both, wary and pitying, at the other boy.
He’s like Torune. His whole family is like Torune.
He hasn’t yet decided whether that realisation makes him hopeful or afraid.
“Do you want to go pet the Inuzuka puppies again?” Sai asks once he finishes his tempura, the box nowhere in sight. “Hana-san said we can visit whenever because the puppies need to be socialised.”
Shino blinks incredulously behind his glasses.
“You’re allergic to their fur.” He points out flatly in lieu of an actual answer, because the last time they had visited, Sai had started sneezing so violently after he pet them that he couldn’t draw the puppies no matter how much he tried or wanted to.
Sai shrugs. “Aneue showed me how to use chakra to block my nose so I won’t start sneezing.”
“That-!” is not a genin-level skill. Is what Shino wants to say. But, as he had suspected for a few months already, it’s likely Sai himself is not actually ‘genin-level’.
“-is useful.” He finishes instead. “And if that will solve your problem, then, yes. I would like to pet the puppies again.”
“Great!” Sai smiles, and then he’s grabbing Shino by the hand again and dragging him away from the table they’d acquired, no doubt in the direction of the Inuzuka compound.
Shino looks at their joined hands, considers how he ended up here, then smiles and lets himself be dragged.
Insects are great, and clever and useful, but they lose out to puppies on the cuteness scale.
Five days after Sakura’s impromptu vacation from Team Ro and two days after she purged the last remnants of cancer from Shin’s lungs, she jerks awake in the middle of the night, a masked ANBU on the outer sill of her window.
“What?” she snaps, pulling the window open and not recognising the mask nor the chakra of the agent who wears it.
Hokage’s office. The ANBU signs. Urgent.
“A mission?” Sakura asks, already stepping away from the window to start pulling out clothes. “Duration?” she checks, glancing back at the agent to check their answer.
Unknown. Comes the wildly unhelpful response. Report to the Hokage A-S-A-P.
“Yeah, yeah, I got that part.” Sakura grumbles under her breath, then makes a shooing motion with her fingers. “I’ll be there in five.”
She packs her bag in a minute, gets some clothes on and shoves rations into a side pocket in another, then finds one of Sai’s charcoal sticks by her bedside table and spends ten seconds scribbling a note to Shin, twenty on the one for Sai, then dedicates a whole two minutes writing out a message to Kakashi.
She’s still writing by the time she shunshins to the Hokage Tower, and she has a split-second to shove the incomplete note for Kakashi into her pocket and fold her fingers around the charcoal stick as the door to Sarutobi’s office swings open.
“Hokage-sama.” She greets, kneeling and putting on her mask as she goes, grateful for the porcelain modulating her voice and removing most of the scorn from it. “You wanted to see me?”
“Your captain told me you were taking a short break from team duties.” Sarutobi greets, and Sakura feels a sudden chill run down her spine, two decades of shinobi instincts stirring anxiously.
“Which is fortunate, because there is a situation in Lightning which requires your expertise.” The Hokage continues, and Sakura isn’t fooled by the factual tone or the kindly look in his eyes.
This is a set-up. Her instincts warn, and Sakura finds she can’t justify her reaction, but neither can she disagree.
“You need to find our informant and then follow through on the information he provides. There is no time limit.” He tosses her a scroll, and Sakura catches it, scans the information, and tosses it back, watching as Sarutobi places it on his ashtray and sets it alight with a flick of a finger.
No time limit. How convenient.
“I’m assigning Lizard as your partner.” At his words, the ANBU who had come knocking on her window materialises at her side, and Sakura distrusts so badly. “Set off as soon as you can. Kumo is a long way from us. Dismissed!”
Meet at the Gates. Lizard signs and disappears from sight, but Sakura changes tracks at the last second and heads for the door, her senses, hyperaware with her suspicion, catching onto a distantly familiar chakra signature that calls forth past-life memories of trust and safety.
She pulls out her message for Kakashi, scribbles out a few more desperate words as she turns her back on the Hokage, and stops Iruka with a hand on his chest before he can make his way into the office.
“Iruka-sensei.” She murmurs, aware that the man doesn’t know her in this life, but her words and the urgency in her tone are enough to stop him in his tracks and make him look down at her, warm brown eyes wary and attentive.
“Give this to Kakashi-taicho, please?” she asks, pressing her scrunched-up note into the man’s hand, careful to keep her body between the message and Sarutobi’s gaze which she can feel boring into them even from fifteen feet away.
Then, she smiles behind her mask and lets some warmth radiate through her chakra.
“Thank you for looking after Sai.” She adds, even quieter than before, and feels the man twitch. “Between the two of us, you’re his favourite teacher.”
Then, she makes herself let go of the note and let the whirl of sealless Shunshin take her away, away from Sarutobi’s scheming ways and Iruka’s concerned gaze.
Iruka stares uncomprehendingly at the spot the unknown ANBU had occupied not seconds previous, his fingers curling unconsciously around the scrunched up piece of paper that had been pressed into his hand, his mind replaying the desperate tone the request had been delivered in and he wonders.
Then, he slips the message into his pocket, years as a prankster granting him a propensity for sleight-of-hand so natural he’s sure even the Hokage doesn’t notice, though the man’s eyes are trained on him with an unusual intensity for the occasion and the time of night.
“Hokage-sama, you really ought to sleep more often.” Iruka greets, allowing himself a more teasing hello than he normally would dare to hopefully distract from the odd encounter between him and the ANBU.
The thin, head-shorter-than-him ANBU who appears to be a sibling of one of his students and a subordinate of Kakashi’s, and who likely just got sent on a suicide-mission judging by their posture.
“Coming from you, Iruka-kun?” Sarutobi replies, and though his voice is warm, there is something in his gaze that activates Iruka’s fight-or-flight.
He shrugs sheepishly, aware of his poor sleeping habits, and offers a wry grin as he holds out the stack of folders under his arm.
“I just wanted to get this to you before next week’s Graduation. I’ve annotated the files and added my suggestions for the best-composed teams, assuming, of course, that all their members pass. I thought we could go over them at some point, clarify anything that may need to be clarified.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” The Hokage replies absently, and Iruka isn’t completely sure the man actually registered everything he said – his gaze is trained on Iruka’s empty hand when he puts the folders on the desk.
(The same hand the girl had pressed her message into.)
“But, in fact, I trust your commitment to your students and the thorough nature of your annotations; I’m sure I’ll be able to gleam everything you wanted to convey from your files.” He corrects, and Iruka would admit to doing a slight double-take at the not exactly subtle dismissal.
“There is, however, a matter that requires your expertise.” The Hokage carries on, as if ignorant to Iruka’s bafflement. “A solo mission to Iwa that might require your skills with traps-”
“Hokage-sama, the Graduation is next week!” Iruka interrupts, and normally he would be appalled with himself for his gall, but he hasn’t had a mission outside the Village in over six months, and he certainly has never had one assigned to him this close to Graduation.
“I am aware, Iruka.” Sarutobi responds, colder than before, the usual fond ‘-kun’ conspicuously absent and Iruka straightens, wondering if he’s crossed some line.
“But it’s just a retrieval mission. I didn’t think that to be beyond the skills of our educators. Particularly not yours.” He pauses, and Iruka swallows. “Or was I wrong?”
“No.” he replies, then bows his head, wondering if he has the time to stop by Izumo and Kotetsu’s so at least someone will know where he’s going. “Of course not, Hokage-sama.”
“Good.” There’s a hard edge to the man’s voice Iruka’s only heard once before, and Iruka fights the urge to screw his eyes shut. “You leave immediately. Dismissed.”
And so Iruka leaves, feeling as if he’s walking to his death.
The day before Sai’s Graduation, Shin’s treating his brother to a celebratory Yakiniku; there’s no doubt in either of their minds that Sai will pass, and Shin reckons that surviving the Academy without calling out the nonsense the instructors preach daily or attacking any of the Clan kids for their sheer brattiness deserves a reward.
“Aneue won’t make it, will she?” Sai asks suddenly, a propos nothing, stirring his noodles glumly, eyes adamantly not meeting Shin’s.
“No.” Shin replies, blunt as ever, and cringes a little at himself when Sai shrinks in on himself a little. “I mean, probably not, but I know she’s doing everything she can to get back in time for your Graduation, and she’ll spoil you even more rotten once she’s back.”
“I miss her.” Sai sighs, and Shin inclines his head in silent agreement. “Will you be there, aniki?”
“Of course.” Shin responds automatically, because he will, it’s the least that Sai deserves from him.
And though he can’t be proud at a high chunin-level shinobi graduating the Academy like Sakura can – because it was obvious from the beginning that Sai would graduate – he nonetheless recognises that Sai wants him there, and if there’s anything he and Sakura actively agree on, it’s that ensuring Sai’s happiness is always in the Top 3 of their priorities.
Sai brightens at that, going back to eating his noodles, but Shin spots something that makes him curse, caught off-guard, and snap a quick “Sai, scram.” to his brother, who takes one look at Shin’s face and grabs his bowl before disappearing in a sealless shunshin that would’ve made Shisui proud.
Hatake Kakashi meets his eyes once Shin turns back to look at him, and he wonders how much that gaze, so similar to his own in colour and the distrust hidden within, actually saw.
“Do you know where I can find your sister?” Hatake asks, no greeting, as he approaches Shin’s table, Uzuki and Shiranui flanking him like misplaced bodyguards.
“Hello to you too, Hatake-san, I am well, thank you.” Shin mocks, the lack of Sakura to filter him showing in the distaste that drips from his words.
He sees Shiranui bite his cheek to control his expression and barely withholds his own smirk.
“I need to hand her the reassignment papers, and I would rather not draw this out any more than I have to.” Hatake announces blankly, waving a folded sheet of paper by Shin’s face, and Shin’s amusement fades instantly.
“Reassignment?” he echoes, confused, noting Uzuki’s sad countenance and Hatake’s icier-than-normal mien with new eyes. “Why?”
“It’s been over a week.” Hatake replies, and Shin remembers what Sakura told him before she healed his lungs; an ultimatum. “She didn’t show up for training. I was persuaded to give the benefit of the doubt for the first two days, but even I am not so charitable.”
Shin feels his patience snap at the same time as his chakra rages. He gets to his feet, absently slamming down the needed change to cover his and Sai’s meals, and squares up until he’s nose-to-chin with the Hatake menace.
“She didn’t show up for training because she’s on a mission, you numbskull.” He seethes, sees Hatake’s eye widen as he appears to revaluate something, but Shin’s too busy digging around his pocket for the note Sakura had left him, which he shoves into Hatake’s chest with unnecessary force as soon as his fingers close on it. “Besides, aren’t you a tracker? Don’t you have ninken for this precise purpose?”
“We practised tracking evasion.” Shiranui supplies absently, his eyes – curiously enough – not on Shin, but on the tense lines of Hatake’s shoulders and back.
“Extensively.” Uzuki adds, with barely hidden distaste.
Shin knows what the note says, has memorised the hastily-scrawled lines within minutes of finding the note on his nightstand, and he watches as Hatake familiarises himself with the content, his moment of realisation visible despite the mask covering ¾ of his face.
Shin,
Unknown ANBU came knocking. No mission details given. I don’t like this. I’ll inform Kakashi, you take care of our brother.
If I don’t return, take him and run.
“’Run’?” Shiranui echoes, and Hatake twitches when he realises his teammates have used his moment of inattention to read over his shoulder. “Run where? Surely she doesn’t mean-?”
Shin can’t be sure what expression is currently on his face, but whatever it is, it seems to confirm to Shiranui that yes, ‘take our brother and run the fuck away from this place’ is precisely what Sakura meant.
Shiranui whistles, but doesn’t comment beyond that.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Hatake asks, and Shin rolls his eyes, praying to all the gods he doesn’t believe in for patience, because if he prays for strength, he’s gonna deck this asshole.
“Can you read?” he sneers, but doesn’t give Hatake the time to retort before he explains. “I thought you’d received her message. Or the Hokage had told you she was on a mission.”
“I didn’t. He didn’t.” Hatake replies, but it seems to be more to himself than to Shin, his tone thoughtful, and, if Shin were inclined to be optimistic, it sounds suspicious. “But where could it have-?”
His question is answered by a terse ‘Hatake!’ and all three jounin plus Shin turn towards the voice.
Shin admits to doing a double-take at the sight of Sai’s Academy sensei coming towards them, looking bloodied, exhausted, and sporting a visible limp, his uniform torn and stained.
“Iruka?” Shiranui gasps, worry evident in his eyes as he takes in the state of the younger man, reaching out to catch him when he makes it to their small group and sways, drained. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Hey, Genma.” The teacher replies tiredly, though he still manages a small smile for the poison specialist, before the second half of what he’d said appears to register and he snorts. “Surprise solo mission and bad intel. But, more importantly, here, Hatake.”
And so saying, he reaches into the inner pocket of his flak jacket, leaning most of his weight on Shiranui when his balance threatens to give out again, and offers Hatake a folded-up piece of paper, splattered with blood and slightly frayed, but mostly intact.
“I was asked to give this to you before my mission. Some ANBU agent. Called you ‘taicho’ though, so.” He shrugs, fatigue whittling away at the façade of the eloquent and respected teacher Shin is familiar with until only a young man not much older than him is left, and the dichotomy itches at him almost as much as this entire situation does.
Kakashi unravels the message with careful fingers, and though his hands don’t shake, there’s something fragile about the man just then, and Shin almost, almost feels sorry for him. He watches as Hatake reads, once, twice, then his eye closes and he tilts his face skyward, regret etched into every visible line of his face.
“Well?” Shin demands. “Share with the class.”
Genma carefully steals the note from Kakashi’s loose grip, and when the man doesn’t object beyond turning away from their small group, hiding his face in the collar of his jacket, the line of his shoulders tense, he begins to read.
“’Kakashi.” Shiranui begins, and Shin sees Uzuki start, and can’t help but wonder why. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair. You’ve trusted me, risked yourself and the team for me, and I haven’t appreciated that enough. Truth is, you’re a legend. So when we sparred, I went into it thinking of a battle to the death with Hatake-Kakashi-the-Copy-Nin, rather than a friendly spar with my obstinate taicho whom I know and love. In short, I expected to get my ass kicked six ways from Sunday. I didn’t entertain the possibility of winning, so when I did, my paranoia got the better of me and I thought the worst of you. I’m sorry. For that and for lashing out. I love our team. I trust our team. Yes, that means I trust you. And I know that, in your own way, you trust me. I’m on my way to a debriefing for a mission now, something secret and solo from the looks of things, but, let’s be a team once I get back? I miss annoying you.”
Shin sighs. Trust Sakura to take his advice and use it in the most unexpected way imaginable. Then, he tenses when Shiranui’s eyes widen and he adds a choked ‘wait, there’s more’.
Shin snatches the letter out of his hand, startling Umino who was almost falling asleep on the tokujo’s side, and turns his attention to the contents of the letter. Scrawled in the margins are desperate tidbits of information Sakura must’ve caught in the Hokage’s office, likely mere moments before she had to head out judging by the hasty script.
“’Kumo. No time limit. Set up?’” he reads, then flips the page around, eyes catching on some smudges at the bottom right corner on the back side of the letter, and he squints at the cramped writing there. “’ANBU agent…Lizard’?”
Hatake freezes.
Either he hadn’t noticed that part of the letter, or he hadn’t been able to read Sakura’s writing, but now he and Uzuki are staring at Shin like he’s grown a second head.
“What did you say?” Hatake asks, at the same time as Uzuki breathes a quiet ‘that’s not possible’, and Shin doesn’t like it.
“It says,” he repeats, flipping the page around so they can read the message for themselves, “ANBU agent Lizard. I’m assuming she’s referring to her mission partner.”
“Lizard was KIA a month ago.” Hatake relays flatly, and now even Umino is paying attention, despite his obvious fatigue.
“When an ANBU agent becomes KIA, their mask is retired; it doesn’t come back into circulation for six months.” Uzuki answers the unspoken question, and Shin feels his blood run cold. “It’s meant to be a…respectful gesture, I guess.”
“So, you’re telling me,” Shin begins, deceptively mildly, and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction out of the fact that Shiranui takes a step away from him, Umino following like a shadow, “that my sister is currently on a Hokage-approved secret mission somewhere in Kumo, with an ANBU agent who, for all we know, isn’t even in ANBU, and we have no means of contacting her?”
“That’s it.” Hatake declares, snatching the note out of his fingers and pocketing it quicker than Shin can blink. “I’m going after her.”
“No, you’re not.” Umino jumps in with surprising energy, grabbing onto Hatake’s sleeve and yanking the man back, a scowl on his face. “You are meeting your new genin team in 36 hours.”
“Well,” Shin murmurs, and his voice sounds far away even to him, his mind reeling, ears ringing, “this was nice. But I’ve got a sister to find, if you’ll excuse me.”
But before he can get more than two feet away, a hand wraps around his wrist with a deceptively strong grip and pulls him right into Hatake’s chest, startling a wheezed ‘oof’ out of the man.
“You’re not going anywhere either, Shin-kun.” Umino scolds, and Shin feels oddly chastised. “Your brother’s graduation is tomorrow, now that your sister can’t make it, you better be there if you know what’s good for you.”
Shiranui snorts a laugh, then wraps an arm around the teacher’s shoulder when he sways, exhausted once again.
“You’ve been spending too much time around Izumo.” He points out teasingly, but Iruka smiles wryly.
“Izumo and Kotetsu nagging me to come spar with them is the only reason I survived this mission, Gen.” Umino confesses, then sighs, pulling away from Shiranui’s embrace and wobbling only slightly before he catches his balance. “Speaking of, I need to thank them.” And so saying, he disappears in a cloud of smoke.
Shin blinks. He didn’t see Umino use any hand-signs. Huh.
“What will you do?” Uzuki asks quietly, fear and suspicion clear in her voice, though for once, it’s not suspicion aimed at Shin.
“I’ll go to my brother’s Graduation.” He replies dutifully, mind whirring. “And then, I’ll go after my sister. Hatake, I know you want to go, but there are more eyes on you than almost any other jounin in the Village. And, while I’m touched by the care and support you’ve shown Sakura,” he addresses Uzuki and Shiranui, “you’re both still active duty jounin. As for me, however, as far as the Village is concerned, I’m just a civilian. Nobody will miss me.”
Hatake surprises him when he meets Shin’s eyes and holds his gaze for a few seconds, before offering a short, affirmative nod.
“Be careful.” He murmurs, and Shin is too shocked by the words to react immediately, but by then, the man is gone, only a swirl of leaves left as a testament to him ever being there in the first place.
And all Shin can think, momentarily startled beyond coherent thought for the second time in as many minutes, is:
Huh.
Sakura expected something to go awry the moment she left the Village, what with the middle-of-the-night summons, cryptic instructions, and with an ANBU she didn’t recognise and who refused to speak for some reason as her partner.
But they got through the Land of Fire without incident.
Upon crossing into the Land of Hot Water, there were some missing-nin and skirmishes with rogue-nin passing by, but nothing that roused her suspicion too much, although there was a theory slowly building in the back of her mind when she thought back on those attacks when they made camp.
Frost was much the same; far too many incidents for what she would normally expect on a simple border crossing, but nothing outlandish.
And then, they crossed into Lightning, and suddenly, it felt as if all bets were off. Their attackers were suddenly jounin-level, unaffiliated, without even the crossed-out headband of missing-nin. Simply nameless, rank-less, nation-less shinobi who were clearly out for blood, but during that entire mess, Sakura’s theory became fact:
None of their attackers targeted Lizard.
Oh, that wasn’t to say Lizard wasn’t fighting. But the type of attacks that reached them were all non-lethal. Not aimed to kill or even permanently incapacitate.
Almost as if it was all intentional.
This is a set-up. The voice in Sakura’s mind whispers again, radiating conviction this time.
Yeah, she agrees, as she massacres their assailants with a wave of untamed Mokuton, then turns to sink a kunai into Lizard’s jugular in the next second, it is.
Question is, are we really surprised?
Sai stares at Iruka-sensei, his eyes wide in quiet disbelief, then he sighs and turns to shoot Shino a quick nod when he hears the concerned buzz of his friend’s kikaichu by his ear.
Team Seven: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, and Sai. Your sensei is Hatake Kakashi.
There are a few murmurs around the class; an all-boy team hasn’t been seen in decades, that much Sai knows for sure, but his mind is stuck on the fact that Sakura and Shin managed to correctly pin down the small group out of which his future sensei would be chosen years in advance. The fact that he’s being assigned to his sister’s ANBU captain while said sister is still MIA assures him that his siblings’ plan worked and Hatake Kakashi has no clue who he is.
And, well.
He’s had fun duping the Academy teachers as to his real skill-level for the last three years. It might be even more fun to extend that prank to a jounin.
All that’s left is to survive his teammates.
Sai sighs, and waves hello to the headache he can feel building in his temples every time he has to interact with Uzumaki Naruto. Then, he turns in his seat and beckons the blond over to him with a small smile, feeling some of his frustration ebb away when his new teammate brightens and bounces over to his seat, his hitai-ate glinting in the morning sun from its point of pride on his forehead.
Sai’s smile becomes a touch more genuine.
“Hello, Uzumaki-san. I look forward to working with you.”
Sasuke doesn’t like his new teacher.
Not only was the man two hours late to their first meeting, he also fell for the dobe’s eraser prank, and then ordered them to show up to one of the most remote training grounds in the Village the next morning at the asscrack of dawn, with instructions not to eat breakfast. Like, what?
And then, if that wasn’t enough for Sasuke to immediately dislike the man, he proceeded to give them the most convoluted genin test he’s ever heard of. What even is a bell test, anyway? And don’t genin teams always operate with four members?
“Uchiha-san.”
Sasuke startles from his lookout position, glancing up sharply at his new teammate whom he didn't even hear approach.
"What?" He whispers, bearing in mind that he's meant to be hiding, having seen what confronting Hatake head-on did to Naruto.
"I do not advise taking Hatake-san on by yourself, as you clearly intend to.” Sai offers, his voice blander than what little of his personality Sasuke’s witnessed. “The man is a jounin and an ex-ANBU, you're a fresh genin. Those odds aren't favourable."
Sasuke scowls, barely resisting the urge to bare his teeth in a snarl. "Shut up! Go bother the dobe!"
An unimpressed, judgemental eyebrow meets his outburst, and something about his teammate’s countenance makes him think Itachi.
Then, Sai speaks:
"You're right. I might actually have more luck talking sense into him than into you. Good luck, Uchiha-san."
And so saying, Sai disappears.
Sasuke loses. Badly.
His face is so close to the ground that on every other breath, breathes in dust and ends up coughing.
Then, as he's contemplating how long his new sensei is planning to leave him like this, Sai emerges from the bushes, with Naruto in tow, and Sasuke feels his patience snap.
"Hah! Look at you, teme! Not so-!" the dobe is blissfully cut off by Sai covering his mouth with his hand and shooting him a reprimanding look.
"Antagonising Uchiha-san is counterproductive to what we're hoping to accomplish, Uzumaki-san." He chastises, bizarrely formal, and though the words are mild, they feel like a scolding, and Naruto clearly takes them as such.
Then, because he apparently insists on not making sense, Sai proceeds to settle cross-legged next to Sasuke's head, his knee mere inches away from the raven’s cheek.
"I hope that what you want to accomplish is freeing me, or I swear, Sai-!"
"Patience, Uchiha-san. I know the jutsu our sensei used on you, you can be free in seconds."
I know the jutsu. Sasuke narrows his eyes. He knows he can’t judge, being proficient in Fire-ninjutsu when most fresh genin struggle with anything higher than E-Rank, but Sai never once appeared as someone hailing from a Clan capable of teaching him high level Earth-ninjutsu over the three years he’s been in the Academy, so he’s suspicious.
"Then what are you waiting for?" he demands instead, not sure how to articulate what he’s thinking without appearing paranoid.
"I'm minimising the chances of you running away before we can tell you our plan." Sai states simply, as if it was a perfectly normal response.
Naruto snickers. Sasuke wants to kick him.
"Go on." He bites out instead, bitter and humiliated.
"As I’ve already told you, Hatake Kakashi is a jounin and ex-ANBU Captain. We had no chances of winning against him individually, and even if we worked together, we wouldn't have defeated him.”
Sasuke wonders whether Sai ever learnt what ‘sugarcoating one’s words’ means. Probably not.
“But he's famous for enforcing teamwork on all his squads, and dividing us with the lie about the two bells is a good strategy to blindside us to the mere idea of working together." Sai concludes, and he sounds – the bastard – like he’s grudgingly impressed.
"Why would I work with the teme, though? You said yourself we can't defeat him even if we do." Naruto grumbles, and Sasuke grudgingly seconds the point, though he keeps that to himself.
"I said we wouldn't be able to defeat Hatake-san, but we should be able to achieve the mission objective." When both, Sasuke and Naruto stare blankly, he elaborates. "We can get the bells."
Sasuke’s suspicion skyrockets, and even the dead-last frowns, so he feels more confident in voicing it: "You sound like you have a plan, but how confident are you in your intel?"
Sai blinks at the question.
"My sister is on his ANBU squad." He says simply, and Sasuke's brain stalls. "I'm very confident."
"Haaaa?" Naruto gawks, apparently similarly thrown to Sasuke himself. "I didn't know you had siblings!"
"I have two." Sai conforms, though he looks a little confused, if Sasuke is reading him right. "Aneue and aniki."
Aniki.
"How come I've never seen them pick you up from the Academy?" Sasuke demands, because his family relations may have been far from perfect long before Itachi somehow killed their entire Clan in one night, but that seemed like a safe staple for siblings no matter what background they hailed from.
A tiny frown appears on Sai's face, and Sasuke knows he's going to slam the breaks on the conversation even before he speaks.
"How about we leave introductions to after we get the bells from Hatake-san?" he misdirects, and while Sasuke scowls, he concedes to the wisdom of the suggestion.
Kakashi finds himself bored.
It's not all that surprising, really, considering he's gone from ANBU to fresh-genin, but he's not used to the sensation of boredom.
Naturally, there’s also the low-level, burning worry for Sakura’s well-being twisting in his gut, particularly after Pakkun relayed that he couldn’t sense Shin or Sakura’s chakra in the Village anymore. That had been two days ago. But, like Sakura’s brother had oh so kindly informed him, there’s not much he can do until he either passes or fails the brats the Hokage’s trying to saddle him with this time.
On the topic of the brats, he reckons he should be more impressed with Naruto's kage bunshin and Sasuke's taijutsu and proficiency with the Uchiha-style Fireball than he is, but he's been a bit spoiled when it comes to having child geniuses on his teams.
He's even stopped making the effort to hide, choosing instead to stand in the middle of the clearing, tauntingly close to the alarm clock which gets closer and closer to midday with every passing second. In mere twenty minutes, he'll be able to fail the kids, hoist Sasuke off on some other jounin and go back to his ANBU team and organise a proper search party for his youngest member.
Only that doesn't happen.
Instead, a dozen clones burst from the foliage, heading for him in waves of four, and though dispatching them is child's play once they reach him, Kakashi isn't expecting the tanto that suddenly appears in front of him, heading with unerring precision for his throat.
The strike comes from his thus-far unseen student, and Kakashi does a double-take at the force behind the blow which he only just manages to block with his kunai. The boy either used a low-level genjutsu to blend with the clones or Kakashi is truly out of it (because he carefully refuses to entertain the possibility of a fresh genin being capable of disappearing on him). Still, with four clones left, he's just about to kawarimi and get out of the melee when two Narutos suddenly drop to sit on his feet like weighted manacles, and one of the remaining clones poofs into Sasuke.
The Uchiha and the clone Kakashi realises is the real Naruto get closer, but neither are holding weapons - instead, Naruto goes directly for the Icha Icha Kakashi's still holding in his left hand, while Sasuke reaches for his mask.
And that's without addressing the fact that Sai's tanto is moving, the pressure against his kunai disappearing as the boy drops low and targets his now-exposed abdomen – what with weights on his legs and two teenagers to fend off with both arms – and Kakashi's heart skips a beat, because surely not.
Then, he forgoes thinking and reaches for his chakra, pulling off his clumsiest, seal-less kawarimi in years, but he finds it difficult to care.
His mask is still up, his book is safe, and his guts are still on the inside, where they should be.
Then, his stomach drops and he brushes a hand against his belt.
The bells are gone.
More than a little disbelieving, he glances down at the clearing, just in time to see Sai hand one bell to Sasuke, while Naruto is already admiring the one he's holding with a smug expression.
But when?
Realising that he needs answers, he flashes down to the clearing where the boys are standing, book tucked away in his pouch.
"So. You got the bells." he begins, assessing each of the boys in turn.
Sasuke's guard goes up the moment he spots him, his fist tightening around the bell in his grasp, while Naruto scowls and shoves his into his pocket, his entire posture radiating a challenge.
"Sai, I saw you hand your bell to Sasuke.” Kakashi informs the least vocal and demonstrative of his students thus far. “You do realise that means going back to the Academy, no? Do you want to reconsider?"
The boy, and, Kakashi thinks, he really wouldn't have looked out of place amongst the Uchiha Clan, once, merely shakes his head.
"No, thank you." he replies politely. "I enjoyed the Academy, I wouldn't mind going back for another year."
He tilts his head and smiles, eyes closed, and the expression makes Kakashi twitch for some reason.
"Besides, Uchiha-san can't be seen going back to the Academy as the Rookie of the Year, and Uzumaki-san wants to be Hokage. I have neither such status nor lofty goals. Thank you for your time, Hatake-san."
And with a shallow bow, Sai turns as if to leave, only there's something about that whole performance that rubs Kakashi the wrong way, though he struggles to pin down exactly what.
"Wait-" he says, and the boy stops, glancing back over his shoulder though he's barely five metres away. "-you pass."
Naruto looks as surprised to hear the words as Kakashi feels at having said them.
"Wait, all of us? All three?" Minato-sensei’s son asks, jumping up and down in his enthusiasm in a way that screams Kushina, then digs out his bell. "Then what was the point of this?"
"You wanted to divide us." Sasuke observes, and he sounds less like he's stating a fact and more like he's realising something himself, and that suspicion is confirmed when he shoots a glance at Sai.
"I did." Kakashi agrees. "Genin teams are the closest-knit units in all ranks until you get to ANBU. If you can't work together at this level, you have no business being genin."
"Wow, Sai!" Naruto cheers, bells forgotten, reaching out to pat the raven on the back, and Kakashi's sure he's not imagining the aborted twitch Sai's hand makes for his kunai pouch. "Lucky we had you to talk sense into Sasuke-teme!"
Sasuke bristles and looks about to snap, but Sai shakes his head, a demure smile in place.
"We're lucky you and Uchiha-san decided to engage Hatake-san at the start so that I could gather the intel we needed." he replies, and Sasuke subsides, looking smug.
That was...a rather masterful dissolution of conflict before it had a chance to become a true conflict, Kakashi muses, eyes narrowing. Interesting.
"Now, since you passed, I believe we should do introductions." he announces at last, making a mental note of the situation to consider later. "And then we can spar."
"Hatake-san, if I may?" Sai asks, and Kakashi arches an eyebrow at the overly-formal address.
"Kakashi-sensei will do just fine, Sai." he points out, then nods. "But go on?"
"Since you instructed us not to eat breakfast and it's currently nearing noon, I don't think a spar today will show you the true extent of our abilities. Why not go for lunch after the introductions, then maybe spar tomorrow?"
As if on cue, Naruto's stomach growls, and even Sasuke appears to agree with the suggestion, if the way his eyes widen at the mention of food is any indication.
Kakashi sighs, and resigns himself to pay for three growing teenage boys and himself.
He’ll get them used to his habits soon, but, just this once, he can play nice.
Correction: he thought he could play nice.
Then they got to the introductions.
"My name is Uzumaki Naruto and I'm going to be Hokage one day! I like ramen and Ichiraku and Iruka-sensei, I don't like having to wait for ramen or cleaning! I want to be Hokage!"
Standard, if highlighting a distinct lack of hobbies or friends. Pay attention to diet. Look out for antisocial tendencies? Dig for reasons behind the goal of Hokage.
"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I like training. I don't like stupidity. My goal is to...find a certain man."
…Depressing. Even fewer hobbies. Interesting choice of language with ‘find’. Probe mental state, check attitude towards Itachi.
"I'm Sai. I enjoy drawing. I don't like hypocrites and the ubiquitous governing system of military dictators seeking to subjugate all people."
It takes Kakashi a second to realise that those words did, in fact, just come out of the mouth of a twelve-year-old genin, then Sai continues: "My goal is for my family to be happy."
Kakashi is pretty sure he's just gotten whiplash.
Well…at least there’s a hobby?
He looks between his three new brats, studies the youth in their faces, despairs at the various degrees of naivete contrasted by shadows of tragedy in all three pairs of eyes, and quietly curses all the gods he no longer believes in.
Who thought giving him kids was a good idea?!