Chapter 15 – Returned

Katsuro scanned the mesh of black branches for an out of place silhouette, trying desperately to find her in the unforgiving darkness.

A short suck of breath was the only warning he heard before a fireball exploded on the spot where he stood.

He evaded it with a quick roll. But instead of using the flash of light to identify his opponent, the rogue raked his gaze back across the canopy hoping for any sign of Sakura.

Nearby, a small tree erupted in flames, lighting the woodlands like a torch. Katsuro could hear the snapping twigs, knew his attacker was closing in, but he didn’t care. He left himself open, using the light to find her.

Pale hair flashed high on a branch, and he snapped his eyes up. She’s there, he thought, standing to get a better look. A black arm wound around her waist, and half her body was blocked by the unknown assailant who’d used the cover of darkness to snatch her up. But she was there, and still alive.

Bucking against the black fingers clamped over her mouth, Sakura whipped her head around to look back. White hands tore at the dark sleeve. The branch bent under their shifting weight.

As the other nin readied to lunge, Katsuro desperately sought her eyes. No longer a pleasant green, they flashed orange, reflecting the unnatural light of burning trees. She caught his look and gave him a quick, nearly imperceptible nod. A silent communication, but of what he was unsure.

And then she was gone. The nin launched off the branch, and they were both swallowed up by the darkness.

Any thoughts Katsuro had of pursuing her were shattered when another nin dropped down in front of him. Katsuro hopped back out of instinct, but wasn’t fast enough to escape being clipped in the mouth.

“Don’t you fucking look at her!” the ninja in front of him roared, bearing down on him. “I’m your opponent now!”

Katsuro skidded back in momentary surprise, but the warm blood pooling inside his lip, the metallic taste and smell overwhelming his senses, was like stoking a fire. Never taking his eyes from his target, Katsuro jerked down the mouth covering and spit out blood.

“Yes,” he growled. “Yes, you are.”

In front of him was the source of all his problems. Sasuke Uchiha.

In that moment, the length of a panted breath, the time it took for the two opponents to size each other up, everything became clear to Katsuro.

Their attackers were Konoha nins, from the very place he’d been slowly moving toward the whole night. He knew he should be glad, knew he should. They had alleviated so many problems by finally retrieving her. She would be safe now, he told himself. But Katsuro wasn’t alright.

It went against reason, but he still felt like she’d been taken, stolen away. Like that village had ripped something else from him, and left him alone with nothing. Again. He ground his hands into fists.

But now he had someone to blame.

Katsuro flipped backward into the black shadows, mind switching gears, slipping from pain to anger to strategy. He wanted to lure the younger Uchiha into the safety of the darker woods, where his katon hadn’t yet set everything ablaze.

He could test Sasuke’s skills under the cover of darkness, and return with valuable information for Itachi. He could get in a few punishing blows for Sasuke’s treatment of Sakura.

And he could keep the kunoichi safe. He would tell Itachi the price of the hard-won information about Sasuke’s skills was that she escaped. And he would embellish his tale by telling him that he barely escaped. That the younger brother was stronger than he expected. This could work, he thought. Itachi would never seek her out in Konoha. And everything he’d every hoped to learn from her about Sasuke, hopefully Katsuro could provide. Itachi would forget about her.

Katsuro sized up the kid who was pitted as his target, his rival, his obstacle to overcome. Beating him meant her freedom.

Glancing past him at the tree line, the rogue realized he had no idea how many more there were from Konoha. But he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. He had to do something to keep him engaged.

Across from him, black shadows streaking across his face, Sasuke approached the retreating nin cautiously. Just seeing him back away roiled him.

Sasuke knew he should fall back, take advantage of this man’s apparent cowardice to make a clean withdrawal. Engaging the enemy was strictly prohibited this mission. But Sakura was safely on her way home with Sai. And the urge to strike at Itachi any way he could was so, so strong. He loosened his fingers, ready to make another make another hand seal, release another fiery katon, if he needed to.

He narrowed his eyes on his target. The disguised nin had retreated to the shadows, using the deeply contrasting firelight to his advantage. With reflexes too quick for the average low-life criminal, the enemy was obviously baiting him to come into the darkness. Sasuke did a quick sweep of the trees. There may be more waiting there. It could be a trap, he thought. That strengthened his resolve to end any pursuit of this guy.

His feet crackled down into the leaves as he drew to a stop. In the wavering light, his adversary’s eyes glittered back at him. But Sasuke had his orders, as much as he hated them. It was time to go.

Sasuke rocked back on his heel and began to back away, eyes scanning the woods for any other threats.

Katsuro stepped back out into the light, hands squarely on his hips. He had to make him stay.

“That’s it? Just going to walk away?” he said, laughing meanly. It echoed through the silence.

But Katsuro ended the taunt there. His voice turned to a low, cutting sneer.

“Then you’re weaker than Itachi said,” he growled.

The effect was instant, like dropping a bomb into the woods.

A guttural roar tore from Sasuke’s throat, and Katsuro could see clearly the sharingans spinning in his overly wide eyes. Hands blurred through the seal but he was too angry to bring his hands to his mouth and direct the katon. Without any control, he sent out an enormous, rageful fire.

Easily five times as big as the first blast, this stream of fire-laden chakra engulfed a huge swath of woods in flames. But his fury rendered the fire burst thin. Though it exploded through the trees, incinerating every leaf and small branch it could, the deadly core of white hot flame was not behind it.

But the Uchiha was beyond caring. He shot behind the rolling wall of fire to pursue the rogue. Ready to kill him now, and anyone else who might be with him.

The dark woods around Katsuro lit up like unholy daylight. The young rogue flipped backward, using minimal chakra to bounce from tree to tree, smirking inwardly. Although the fire show was impressive, he could add predictably to Sasuke’s list of faults.

Barreling out of the inferno, Sasuke aimed straight for the rogue. He bounded from tree to tree behind him, orange embers ricocheting in his wake. Flinging a spate of shurikens after the rogue, Sasuke hoped to slow him, but each missed. The line of kunai he tried next either sunk into the trees or slashed between them, always missing the slippery fighter.

Katsuro moved from tree to tree, working his way back up the ridge line he’d just trekked down, until he felt sure Sasuke had exhausted his supply of weapons. Then he took to the sloping ground, hoping to lure him into closer combat among the deeper shadows at the base of the trees.

But Sasuke saw through that ruse handily. Tearing down the bark after him, he formed a seal and lit up the underbrush with a fireball. Feet tucked up, he leapt through the blaze to pummel the rogue. However on the other side of the fire, Katsuro was waiting for him.

Sasuke sailed out of the fire wall with his arm pulled back, fist tight, ready to impact the opponent he was so sure was there. He threw a quick jab, but Katsuro was quicker. The rogue leaned back and Sasuke’s fist flew past Katsuro’s face to dent the tree next to him.

The air between them smelled singed from over-used chakra. Sasuke was angry and putting too much force into his punches to correct them. And Katsuro took full advantage of the weakness.

Sasuke spun around for his next offensive, but Katsuro anticipated him. Blocking the Uchiha’s punch with a forearm, Katsuro lunged for his face, catching his jaw with the first two knuckles of his fist. Sasuke’s head reeled back.

The rogue didn’t let up. Pivoting on one foot, Katsuro swung his leg into a roundhouse kick, lodging his boot deep into the Uchiha’s gut. His eyes bulged in surprise, and he let out a soft “oof.” The force of the kick pitched his body back through the trees like a ragdoll.

‘You may be relentless,’ Katsuro thought, ‘but that’s not enough.’

Though he had many physical similarities to his brother, Sasuke’s fighting style was nothing like him. The younger Uchiha was raging and hot-headed; Itachi was never, ever caught off guard. He hardly broke a sweat in a fight. And they weren’t even fights, it just depended on how long Itachi was willing to let an attack continue before he ended his opponent. The elder Uchiha was relentless too, but he was devoid of emotion. Never out of control. Not like this one, Katsuro thought. His movements were fast, but disappointingly predictable.

Sasuke shot backwards across the forest floor, arms crossed protectively over his midsection after the punishing kick. But his landing was remarkably controlled. He flipped his feet underneath him, dropped a knee down to the forest floor, and skidded through the leaves to a stop.

From the low crouch, Sasuke’s red sharingans glowed up at the rogue from under his jagged black bangs. He gave a small, wicked smile and let both arms fly from his waist. Kunai shot out from both fists as his arms arced wide around each side. The hidden blades made a low zinging sound as they raced toward Katsuro.

Katsuro only smirked back. ‘Still one step ahead of you buddy,’ he thought as he flipped up the tree behind him. Running a miniscule amount of chakra to his feet, the rogue stuck to the tree to wait out the attack.

If the wide net of kunai wasn’t a tip off of his attack, then the strange sound was a dead giveaway. Wired kunai were an Uchiha clan specialty. No surprise the younger brother would have mastered it as well.

Below Katsuro, the younger Uchiha stood frozen as the wired kunai snapped back toward him. The arrogant smile was gone.

Katsuro watched him retract the wires almost immediately after he’d released the kunai. Sasuke was so fully expecting to catch his opponent by surprise, he didn’t make sure his target couldn’t escape.

Kunai whistling toward him, Sasuke couldn’t move. His face was slack with devastated surprised. But just at the moment of impact, he dissolved in a wisp of smoke. The kunai thudded dully into a spinning block of wood where Sasuke had been a split-second before.

Katsuro’s eyes went wide: a kawarimi no jutsu. It was a setup. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

When the Uchiha flung his kunai, he must have substituted his body for one of them. The man Katsuro saw in front of him was simply an illusion. The real one was launching another attack. Then he was somewhere close by, Katsuro thought, eyes darting everywhere at once.

Above the rogue, Sasuke hurtled down the tree with his katon already in motion. Thumb and forefinger curled in a small ring, he forced the stream of fire through his fingers with deadly precision. Katsuro looked up just in time to see the yellow flames tearing down the rough bark, heading straight for him.

Nowhere to go, the rogue leapt straight down to the clearing, amid the wires and kunai of the last failed attack. But Sasuke was forcing the rogue right where he wanted him. The kunai assault was a sacrifice to get in position above him. Sasuke’s small, wicked smile returned. Now he’d got him.

Intentionally staying behind the katon, the Uchiha raced toward the ground. But this time he was in control.

Dragging a hand behind him, he slowed his momentum before he ran out of tree, and pushed off with his palm. Plunging feet-first through the last curl of fire, he tucked up a knee and delivered a shallow kick to the rogue nin’s chest, knocking him off balance. Sasuke pressed the advantage. Correcting in mid-air, he reached forward, grabbed the man’s shirt with one hand, and cracked him across the face with the other.

Even with the concealments muffling it, the explosive sound of bone hitting bone was unmistakeable.

Searing pain shot through Katsuro. His vision blurred out for a moment as he skidded on his back across the forest floor. Blinking away spots, Katsuro saw Sasuke hit the ground with one bounce, scoop up two kunai, then tear up another tree.

The Uchiha had caught him again from above. That wasn’t luck, that was strategy. Sasuke found a weak spot early on and pursued him until there was an opening. He parlayed each failed attack into another assault. While Katsuro thought he was playing the Uchiha, perhaps all this time Sasuke had been playing him.

The thought of being manipulated by his rival, coupled with the intense pain, was like unleashing a fire within. His hatred of Konoha, brought to the surface by his time spent with Sakura, found an outlet in Sasuke.

Governed by something other than himself, Katsuro launched after Sasuke with a feral roar. He tore up the tree next to his, shredding the bark with the surging chakra at his feet. An unnatural rage rolled through him, drenching everything red, warping his mind.

Katsuro no longer cared what the Uchiha was planning. He was going to demolish it by sheer force.

Grasping the tree, he felt the raw energy burning the edges of his hands. He knew without looking that they were faintly outlined with red chakra. He could feel the tree sizzling lightly under his touch. He thought for an instant easily he could use that power, and what he could do with it….

And then, like flipping a switch, the demon’s chakra arced wildly out of control. It ripped across his chest in hot streaks, clawing him open from the inside.

It wanted what he wanted. To rip, to kill, to destroy. All of it. Their goals were always intertwined, as were their fates. The power was his, and it whispered that he should not stop here. He should kill Sasuke, then continue on…and burn Konoha to the ground.

Searing images flashed through Katsuro’s mind — a village he’d not seen in years, the ground littered with dead bodies, the blood oozing from his hands — but he knew these memories weren’t his.

Although Katsuro desperately wanted to hurt those who had hurt them, the demon was only looking for the fastest way out. The power he promised was a lie.

And it didn’t understand why he was out there. It wasn’t to kill Sasuke, it was to keep Sakura out of danger.

Her name was a cool spot on the spiraling, malicious chakra. He clung to the moment of clarity.

He was the one in danger now. If anyone from Konoha recognized his chakra, it was a death sentence. They would drag him back and unleash the monster.

This had gone too far. Even as he leapt away from the tree to bodily rip into the Uchiha, he knew he had to get out of there.

Katsuro forced himself to turn in the air. Resist the kyuubi, resist delivering a fatal blow. He meant to push off the tree and disappear into the darkness. But Sasuke had launched at him in the same moment, looking as wild and blood-thirsty as he felt. Looking as if he wanted to kill him too.

Sasuke had warily watched the rogue nin rip up the tree next to him when he sensed something had changed. The air shifted, becoming darker, deadlier. Sasuke’s sharingans spun at the threat.

A strange power rolled off the ninja. Hot and suffocating, it carried with it the unshakeable stench of death. Not a physical smell, but the strangling memory of it. Sasuke knew it well. It was the way he felt when he witnessed his clan’s massacre. The feeling of being trapped, with death all around, closing in.

Though was trapped before, as a child, when his brother wiped everyone out. He swallowed the feeling. He wasn’t trapped now. Anger churned within him that this ninja, this extension of Itachi, could make him relive it.

Pitching the kunai aside, Sasuke leapt off the tree at the rogue nin, desperate to stop him, wound him, kill him with his bare hands. Make him pay for the wounds that would never, ever heal.

Clashing in the empty space high between the two trees, both ninjas blocked the other’s blows. They were both locked in a tumble, Katsuro with his foot bearing down on Sasuke’s chest, and Sasuke with his hand clasped over his leg. The rogue nin tried to break free, but Sasuke was keeping the rogue steady, holding him right where he wanted him.

Staring past the stabs of black bangs over his eyes, the comforting clasp of the tiger hand seal, Sasuke kept his aim on the rogue as he fell.

Pushing away the nausea, the horror, the memories of his dead clansmen, Sasuke let a controlled fire fill his veins. Then he channeled the superheated chakra to his throat, letting it build there. Holding it in longer and longer. He knew it wasn’t safe. It burned his insides until his mind screamed for release, but still he held it back.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes and pulled his clasped hands to his face. Pressing two long fingers to his lips, he took aim. He’d get to Itachi eventually, but right the monster who brought back all the pain was going to pay.

Twisting against the fall, Katsuro glimpsed the hand seal, the Uchiha taking aim. He knew what was coming: another katon. And at such a close range, there was no way he could escape it.

Katsuro pushed his boot into Sasuke’s gut to launch away. He hoped it was enough.

Beneath him, Sasuke never took his eyes from his target. He tightened his mid-section against the crushing blow of his opponent, then rounded his back to defray the impact of the ground. Instead of letting it knock the wind out of him, he used the force of impact to blow out a plume like never before. The fire-laden chakra was so strong it burned his hands from directing it. But he wasn’t about to let go.

A billow of blood-red fire uncurled through the woods with a low, ominous woosh. Flame upon flame rolled in every direction, with the white-hot core roaring up behind. This katon was perfectly executed to devour everything in it’s path.

Barely ahead of the initial blast, Katsuro could feel the molten heat immediately at his back.

Grabbing desperately at a low branch, he managed to plant his foot against the tree and vault up the ridge line in front of the flames. But the rushing fire was faster. Katsuro felt the heat through his clothes, burning through his feet. He tucked up his legs. There was no way to land.

Angry flames licked out beneath him. The kyuubi’s chakra burned him up from within.

Katsuro grabbed a branch, hoping to use it to further his leap. The fire was so close on him it singed the hairs off the back of his hand as he held on. The limb seared across his palm, but it held fast. Katsuro threw all his weight onto it and pitched his body away from the oncoming flame.

But halfway through the swing, the branch gave way. And there wasn’t enough momentum to catapult him further.

Katsuro plummeted toward the angry fire plume, burning embers of the branch falling down around him.

Holding his breath, the rogue crushed his eyes shut against the blinding white-hot flames. He prepared to hit ground with any other body part than his feet.

But impact never came. Instead the heat turned cold. The light stopped burning through his eyelids.

The branch falling with him still crackled with fire, but a roaring sound was drawing closer. He opened his eyes with a gasp. Somehow he had launched off the cliff where Sakura had nearly fallen earlier. He was plunging headlong into the river.

Katsuro twisted in midair, scrambling to get his feet underneath him. Light from the fireball turned the river to gold. An enormous black boulder jutted out into the middle, snagging the light, and forcing the water to eddy and swirl loudly around it. Katsuro aimed right for the rock.

He landed in a crouch, ready to launch again if someone was hard on his heels, but only the burning branch clattered across the flat top of the boulder behind him. Katsuro stood and peered up at the cliff edge, waiting.

The fireball had vanished into the air above him, but orange cinders still rained down on Katsuro from the burning trees. The fresh embers clung to his clothes, trailing up wisps of smoke. The river was losing it’s golden light and the shadows were deepening again.

Katsuro drew a few deep breaths but kept his eyes trained on the cliff. He was caught between wanting the bastard to follow him and knowing he should use this break to escape. Live to fight him another day. When he didn’t have to hold back.

A silhouette appeared atop the ridge. Sasuke’s shoulders were heaving from panting. He stared down brazenly at the rogue, but didn’t make a move to continue. At least, not yet.

Hands ground into tight fists at his sides, Katsuro glared black challengingly. His eyes were burnished red with the reflected light of the burning forest. Gray streams of smoke rose into the air from the back of his shirt, braiding together and forming menacing, unnatural tips behind him.

The desire to pound Sasuke Uchiha into oblivion was still so strong, so visceral, that he didn’t move for fear he would give in and launch back up the rock face. But Katsuro knew he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.

The kyuubi’s chakra was harsh and tangible. It had worked it’s way to the surface. He had barely escaped. The Uchiha had provoked him much more than he ever expected.

But Katsuro swept all reasoning aside. He half-hoped Sasuke would follow him. Thumbing away blood from his busted lip, he thought how much he’d like to have another go at him.

Sharingans still shining, his hands fisted at his sides, Sasuke looked like he felt the same.

But another figure materialized at the Uchiha’s shoulder. And shouts rang out in the woods behind Kastsuro. The firestorm was drawing a lot of attention.

“We have to go. Now,” the voice of an older nin carried down. But Sasuke didn’t seem inclined to cooperate. The new arrival spared a glance at the rogue. Katsuro could see a face concealment.

“We’ll pick this up another time,” the man said a little more sternly. “Let’s go.”

One last, hard look, then both Konoha nins disappeared from ridge line.

The voices coming through the woods behind him diverted upriver. Men from his group. They’d raced to the burning woods, hoping for some action.

Katsuro shot one last look at the jagged line of the cliff.

It was over. They would not pursue him. Even after that frightening loss of control, his secret was still safe.

Adrenaline was dropping, the surge of chakra was receding. He was alone again.

The one he’d fought so hard for was gone. The power that had driven him on, fiery and destructive, had washed away in the aftermath. He felt different, like he’d been left behind. Exhausted and… he couldn’t find the right word.

Unbidden, the image of the forgotten wooden cup left at the side of the old well came to mind.

‘An empty cup in an abandoned temple,’ he thought with a weary laugh. ‘Yeah, that’s about right.’

He felt hollow. Emptied out. Missing something. Just as he’d never had a connection with anyone like her before, he’d never felt that particular kind of alone.

But he shouldn’t dwell on it, Katsuro told himself with a sigh. He rubbed his hands tiredly over his eyes. Though he hated having to let her go, she would survive now. And he had Konoha to thank for it.

He blinked at the thought, then shook his head ruefully. For once, fate’s twist was not cruel.

Katsuro leapt away from the cold, darkening river. It was a long way back to camp.

---

“She did this to you?” Itachi said furiously at the sight of Katsuro’s bruised face. The young rogue touched his swollen, aching cheek. Dried blood flaked away from the corner of his mouth. The acrid smell of burnt clothing was quickly filling the space.

“No,” Katsuro said tiredly. “She got away.”

Silence made the air in the tent feel heavy. The elder Uchiha sat slowly back against the seat, black eyes never leaving Katsuro’s face. His anger at the perceived disobedience was nearly palpable.

“Explain,” he bit out.

“There was an ambush, and I was separated from her. This,” Katsuro said, pointing to his cheek. “this was inflicted by Uchiha Sasuke.”

Itachi did not move, but his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

“You encountered Konoha then?” he said, an eyebrow quirking up at the interesting change of events.

“Yes,” Katsuro said, “but I only fought Sasuke.”

“I see,” Itachi said, looking over the injuries again with a more clinical eye. Katsuro kept the flash of anger in check. It was clear Itachi was only using him to measure Sasuke’s strength.

“And, I assume, you withheld your abilities to keep from being detected,” Itachi ventured. Katsuro gave a single, tight nod.

“Good,” Itachi said, satisfied.

Katsuro didn’t feel like there was anything good about it. He hated Sasuke and was beginning to hate his master. He hadn’t truly withheld his power, he’d nearly lost control of it…. And he had lost her.

Katsuro prodded the tender cheek absent-mindedly. He had also forgotten how much he hated pain.

The power of the kyuubi to protect it’s vessel always meant that he healed quickly, easily. In times of stress, the demon chakra nearly overpowered his to combat the threat. It’s will to survive stronger than any human will.

But the effortless healing had not kicked in. Katsuro could guess why. He’d nearly burned out his chakra over the last few days. And the kyuubi chakra had been spent trying to push through the opening made by Katsuro’s unbridled rage. Rubbing a hand across his chest, the young rogue felt like he’d had two opponents instead of one.

But Katsuro already knew when he fought Sasuke that he was going to pay for it later. Normally, if he was punched, the demon chakra would insulate him against the pain, then swirl in with his own to supercharge his anger and strength. Opponents never stood a chance. But this time each punch hurt like hell.

Katsuro’s one consolation was that somewhere in the world that bastard felt just as bad as he did.

“Were you able to find out anything?” Itachi said.

Katsuro rubbed his sore jaw, nodded, then began the litany of everything he had discovered about Sasuke’s skills

The elder Uchiha settled back, slung one hand out of the front of his cloak and listened closely to every word.

Katsuro recounted the battle and what he deduced from Sasuke’s fighting techniques. He covered every aspect he could think of and answered all of Itachi’s questions. At length, Itachi grew silent, mulling the wealth of new information.

Katsuro exhaled tiredly, let his eyes slide half-closed and waited. He knew Itachi wasn’t finished, there was still another matter to attend to. And the Uchiha never forgot any loose ends.

Slipping his hand back into his sleeve and sitting forward, Itachi refocused his gaze on Katsuro.

“And what of the girl,” he drawled. “I suppose she got away in the midst of it all?”

“No, she was taken before it began.”

“There were others,” Itachi remembered. “How many?”

“I know of only two more.”

“The reconnaissance team,” Itachi said with a measure of authority, obviously pleased he was still able to predict their movements. “We were fortunate. They would have come here looking for her, and exposed everything.”

The Uchiha was proving his point. And, though Katsuro hated to admit it, he was right. Just her being in camp put them in grave danger. But the loss was still sharp. And Itachi was still scrutinizing him.

“Do you think she will expose you?” he said slowly. Sharp black spikes of hair framed his face, and dark shadows pooled under his eyes.

This wasn’t an innocent question. It was a thinly-veiled threat.

Katsuro gave him a long, hard look.

“I would never reveal anything to someone from that place,” he said callously. “She knows nothing about me.”

Though he felt so differently about the girl, it didn’t change how he felt about her village. She was unknowingly putting him in danger. The best way to keep her safe  — and him safe — was simply to let her go.

Itachi snorted under his breath. “Good,” he said coldly.

He picked up a scroll off the desk, but Katsuro didn’t move.

“Let’s hope so, for both your sakes,” he added, his tone quiet and deadly, before turning back to his work. Katsuro was effectively dismissed.

But Itachi made his point abundantly clear: If any information was leaked about Katsuro, she’d be the first to pay. And Katsuro would be next in line.

For now, though, she was safe. The young rogue turned and strode to the door.

He remembered her last look from the tree limb. That unmistakeable nod of her head. She must have known immediately it was Konoha. Then perhaps she was letting him know that she agreed to his desperate last request, a silent communication that if she made it to her village she’d never reveal anything about him.

Teammates, huh? It didn’t quite work out the way he’d planned it, but he was definitely relying on her now. If she kept her word about protecting him, then both of them would be safe.

Katsuro pulled back the canvas flap and disappeared into the blinding, white daylight.

---

Over the rim of the water glass Sakura watched two more black-clad shinobi file into the small room. Just like the four scooting away from the table, these men also concealed their identities with eerie milk-white masks.

‘Great. More ANBU,’ she thought, dashing away the water from her lower lip. The new interrogation squad members sized her up, and she utilized her hard-won new battle skill. Fake it. She tipped up her chin, and refused to appear intimidated.

The room was a big grey box, and the four dark figures stood at attention like an unyielding row of kunai, making way for the two newcomers. There were no windows and a single door. Clearly it was reserved for criminals.

‘But she was there only to be questioned,’ she told herself wryly, folding her arms across her chest.

If she hadn’t already crossed through Konoha’s gates before she was whisked away, she would have thought she was anywhere else but her own village.

But the four ANBU were standing just inside the wall, and waiting just for her. She did not get so much as a look around at her beloved village. With a tight grip on each arm, they marched her directly to the forgotten room, tucked away on the ground floor of a forgettable building a few steps from the gate.

“Just some questions,” one ANBU said tonelessly, pointing to a seat behind an old metal table.

In the middle of the table was a neatly stacked pile of papers. Sakura recognized her name on one of them. Walking around the table, she placed her hand on the back of the chair but did not sit.

Maybe there had been some misunderstanding about her abduction, she thought. They wouldn’t be treating her this way it they knew who she’d seen.

She leaned forward and flattened her hand out on the table, fingers spread wide. She looked for the eyes behind the man’s mask. This was vitally important information, she was sure of it.

“When I was abducted I saw—” Sakura began breathlessly.

“Sit down please, Haruno-san,” the ANBU ordered, cutting her off.

“You don’t understand—” she stammered.

“No, you don’t understand,” he said flatly. “We ask, you answer. Konoha protocol. Now sit down.”

She gaped for a moment, then frowned, plunking her hands on her hips. He pointed to the seat. She could do nothing but agree.

The ANBU slipped out a clean sheet of paper from under the stack, took up a pencil and began verifying her personal information. Her life distilled to tick marks on a page. She wanted to throttle him. He was just outlining the facts of her ordeal when the two new ANBU came in.

The captain of the squad and his second in command strode across the room and snapped up the papers off the table. He scanned over the checklist of her life, the notes scribbled by the ANBU shinobi.

“That’s as far as we have gotten sir,” the ninja closest to her said.

“I see,” the captain said gruffly.

“You were abducted weeks ago, saw none of your attackers, were forced to disguise as another nation’s shinobi and participated in an ambush. And you might have been transported out of the country…. Yet you can give us no information about these ninjas?” He shook the sheaf of papers as he spoke. Cold, black eyes peered at her from behind the expressionless mask. His disbelief was evident.

Sakura shook her head slowly from side to side. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. That she would survive all that, just to be treated like a criminal once she returned home.

The leader made a dissatisfied sound and went back to studying the paper.

“No other discerning features? Hair color, eyes?”

“No,” Sakura said. “Nothing more than I’ve already told you. Just brown hair, brown eyes.”

“Age?” he fired back without looking up.

Sakura swallowed dryly.

“The group who carried out the ambush looked to be in their late 20s, if not older,” she said with a small cough.

It wasn’t a complete lie. The rest of the group was older than her. And he had tried to prevent the ambush. She hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt.

But the brusque captain took no notice. He continued to pour over her file.

Sakura had not forgotten Katsuro’s request to conceal his identity, to ‘protect him’ too. He had gone to such great lengths to keep her safe, it was the least she could do for him.

But there was another reason she hid her connection to the young rogue. She was ashamed of herself.

If she were to confess to this battle-hardened man in front of her that she had help, from a boy…that they shared meals and fought together, that she slept next to him and even held his hand, then they would laugh her right out of the room.

While her sensei and teammates had put their lives on the line searching for her, she had been ensconced in the temple in relative safety. After the first few days, anyway.

Freed from confinements, laughing and joking with her captor, the kunoichi’s days were spent exploring the ruins or sparring. Nights were spent in conversation.

Sakura knew she’d never truly given up on Konoha finding her, but recounting the bare facts of her time in captivity painted a very different picture. It sounded like she was on vacation.

She changed her mind: If they knew the truth they wouldn’t just laugh at her, they’d throw her in jail for treachery.

The door swung open suddenly, throwing a shaft of light across the room. A tall figure with a long coat stood silhouetted for a moment.

“Ibiki,” Sakura thought with a sick feeling. Konoha’s interrogation expert. If she didn’t feel traitorous before, covering her tracks with the rogue nin, well she did now. Ibiki only came out for the really bad cases.

The captain grunted an acknowledgement and stepped out of the way to permit the man.

But the greeting from the doorway did not match the gravely voice she knew to be the chief interrogator’s.

“Sakura,” the man said gently. “We are so glad you’re home.”

She blinked. The man closed the door and the light adjusted in the room.

Coming towards her was her best friend’s father, Inoichi. His blue eyes twinkled, and he smiled warmly at her.

“Me too,” she returned a watery smile. Eyes bright with unshed tears, she exhaled shakily. She didn’t realize how much she needed to see a friendly face.

He was tall and lean, and had the same sunny blonde hair as Ino, but his long black coat cut an imposing figure. Although he was an interrogator of sorts, he was no Ibiki. That scarred, hulking man normally tore the secrets out of enemies by any means necessary, and seemed to relish the task. Inoichi employed his clan’s mind control technique for more delicate matters. Like keeping the victim alive.

“I just want to ask you a few things, ok?” he said gently. Sakura nodded.

“Were you aware of any genjutsus?”

“No,” she said, but stopped herself. “Wait. Yes, in the beginning. And maybe another, but I’m not be sure.” She stopped, feeling queasy just remembering it.

It must have showed.

“It’s ok,” Inoichi continued in the same low tone. “I’m just going to read your chakra right now, look for any disturbances.”

Sakura frowned, but Inoichi reassured her, walking around the table to stand behind her. The rest of the ANBU relaxed their stances in his wake so they could unobtrusively monitor the interrogator’s work. The captain continued to pour over the files undisturbed, but his second in command never took his eyes off the kunoichi.

“Every genjutsu leaves a trace. Like a fingerprint,” Inoichi said. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and Sakura immediately started to feel more at ease. He continued in the same comforting tone. “And that trace is unique to each person. Me, you, everyone in this room. Each one is different.”

His voice was lulling and Sakura let her shoulders drop under the pleasant weight of his warm hands.

“Now Sakura, I’m just going to touch the top of your head, see if I can find a ripple in your chakra, a fingerprint. Ok?”

Feeling relaxed, she nodded slowly, but the captain’s coarse voice shattered the moment.

“I don’t have time for this,” he snarled and slapped the file back on the table. He turned to issue orders to his second. “Find out what she knows, make sure she’s clean then let her go home. He works alone. If it was just a low-level genjutsu, then she probably never even saw him—”

“Him,” Sakura said sharply. Six white masks turned in unison. Inoichi stilled his hands on her shoulders.

“You mean Itachi?” she snapped at the squad leader. It roiled her to think she would come through all this to be brushed off by a bullying ANBU. She would never have spoken out in the past, but his dismissive tone made her irrationally angry. Something in her had changed.

“I saw him,” she continued, sitting forward and pulling away from Inoichi, “and I don’t know where you get you’re information from, but he doesn’t work alone.”

Everyone was silent, watching her. Waiting for something to give.

“Your challenging the work of the finest shinobi in the field,” the captain literally growled at her, “information that our men and women have died for? And you think you know better?”

He snapped up the file and flipped over a paper. “A genin who couldn’t even qualify for the chunin exam.” He looked at her again. “You wouldn’t have survived five minutes against Uchiha Itachi.”

She didn’t know if it was the chakra depletion or something else, but she wasn’t backing down. She didn’t care what her rank was anymore. She wasn’t going to be treated like an academy child. She was a kunoichi, dammit.

“I saw him, I stayed in his camp, and I did everything I could to stay alive,” she didn’t remember raising her voice, but by the end she was yelling. Pink blotches were creeping up her throat. Her hand had somehow found it’s way to the table, bracing her as if she might launch over it at any moment.

Behind the porcelain mask, the captain’s eyes had gone wide with rage.

He was silent, but the others reacted as if she’d just ignited a bomb. The folder was crumpling in his fist. All their eyes were wide now. Only the second remained calm.

Stepping into the tense silence, he defused the situation.

“If I may,” he said deferentially to the captain. The squad leader jerked an angry nod and let his second take over. He paced to the back of the room, disgusted.

“Explain, Haruno-san,” he said firmly, but his voice was free of condescension. She had earned the right to speak freely. Five white masks looked down at her, waiting to hear what she had to say for herself. Sakura did not waste any time.

“They asked me to heal some of the lowest level ones, the thugs, so I did,” she said. “But I made sure to inflict extra injuries so they would need more medical treatment.”

No one spoke, though a few ANBU nodded slightly.

“At first, I only meant to keep myself alive. But the longer I was in the camp, the more I saw. So I memorized every detail, hoping I would make it home.”

The ninjas were drawing closer, listening. Even Inoichi had pulled his hands away to give her room.

“Itachi Uchiha keeps a large camp of men who are sent out to commit small crimes, like the ambushes on merchants. They bring in money which goes to support—”

“A whole camp,” the captain barked out sarcastically from the shadows across the room. “With a great deal of men?”

“Yes, and—” she started. He cut her off.

“That would be impossible to hide,” he said meanly as he strode back across the room.

“No, they—” she said quickly. He cut her off again.

“And we’ve never come across any signs—” he said with a sneer, but Sakura wasn’t having it anymore.

“Well you wouldn’t,” she snapped, cutting across his words. “He keeps the location hidden in a riverbed!”

That finally shocked him into silence. She could see him blinking behind his mask.

“I went to two camps, both beside rivers, both of which were flooded when not in use. The river is rerouted while they are encamped, then covered with water until they need it again. They can hide anywhere, plan attacks on any location, and disappear without a trace.”

No one spoke, so she continued.

“The money he gets from the petty crimes goes to support his involvement in bigger things, but I don’t know what. I assume it has to do with the Akatsuki,” she said.

Eyes went wide all around at that statement.

“How did you know—” one ANBU started.

“The cloaks, black with a red cloud,” she said. Several more nodded.

“I saw two others, named Deidara and Sasori. One makes bombs, and the other,” she shuddered at the thought of him, “well, I’m not sure what he is.”

“Two others,” one ninja repeated slowly. “So does that mean….”

“Yes,” Sakura nodded solemnly. “Itachi Uchiha is in Akatsuki, as well.”

It was like a silent wave crashed over the room. The new information set them all on edge. Some tightened their fists, a few tugged distractedly at their armor. One moved to pace the length of the farthest wall, rubbing his chin under his mask.

But the captain stood stock still, hands on his hips, and looked at her.

Sakura looked back unflinchingly. She waited, but wasn’t smug.

She had some idea any information she could share would be vital, just based on how secretive Itachi’s group was, even with each other.

Yes, something in her had changed, she decided. She knew what she was now: a Konoha kunoichi. She didn’t give up. Didn’t matter if it was a rogue shinobi or a pissed off ANBU captain. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders.

If she had to sit through another round of badgering just to get her information across, then so be it. It couldn’t be any worse than what she’d already lived through.

“Finish,” the captain said hoarsely, jerking his head at Inoichi.

“Of course,” Inoichi said with a smile in his voice. “Sakura, we just need to make sure there has been nothing placed on you.”

“Placed on me?” Sakura echoed, looking back at him. She shook her head in confusion.

“Yes,” Inoichi said. “We need to make sure there are no jutsus which could be activated from a distance, later on.”

“Like…a spy?” Sakura stammered, horrified. Sasori’s condescending remark about Itachi’s “new contact” came immediately to mind. Sasori had meant her.

She looked around the room, a few ANBU looked over a little sheepishly. It all fell into place: the stern ninjas; the rough treatment at the gate; the interrogation room; the hateful captain acting as if everything she’d said was a lie.

That explained why they were treating her like a criminal. They thought she was one.

Inoichi replaced his hands on her shoulders and eased her back into the seat.

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I haven’t detected anything.”

Warmth spread immediately down into her limbs again, and Sakura felt as if a spring was unwinding inside.

“Itachi’s genjutsu has a signature,” Inoichi continued soothingly. “There are not many who can detect it, but I can. I’ve been tracking him for a long, long time.”

“Almost done, Sakura. Now, I’m just going to touch the top of your head, see if I can detect a ripple in you chakra….”

He lifted his hands from her shoulders. In an instant she felt a prickling at her crown, her hairs stood on end, and then it was done.

The warm hands returned to her shoulders, and Inoichi continued, rendering his verdict in the same lulling tones. He gradually grew louder, speaking to everyone in the room.

“You did fine, Sakura. Just fine. There was a genjutsu a few weeks ago, just as you said. A strong one. There was also a more recent one, but it was very thin. Both by the same person. Whoever he is, he’s not Itachi.”

He looked around at the waiting ANBU. “She is clean,” he announced. “The justsus were for information, but nothing was placed on her.”

“You’re ok, dear. You made it,” he said softly, patting her shoulder. When he walked back around beside her, he was smiling kindly, blue eyes twinkling.

“Thank you,” Sakura said, suddenly caught between wanting to laugh and cry. She had made it. It didn’t seem real until that moment.

And everyone in the room around her seemed to exhale with his pronunciation as well.

“Proceed with the debriefing, if you feel up to it,” he said, looking down at Sakura for acceptance. She gave him a grateful smile.

“But get something to eat,” Inoichi rejoined. “You’ve had quite an ordeal, and I can tell feeding you was not their top priority.” He must have read it through her weakened chakra, Sakura thought.

He took a step away from her, and would have continued to the door had the captain not moved directly into his path.

“Why would someone like you waste your time here, especially now?” the squad leader said in a low, accusing voice. His eyes narrowed to slits behind the porcelain mask. “What is it you’re looking for?”

But Inoichi was unfazed by the pushy captain.

“Something that’s above your classification level, obviously,” he quipped.

Inoichi stepped around him, shoving a wad of money into his hand as he passed.

“Get her some food. My treat,” Inoichi said into the captain’s surprised face. Looking back over his shoulder, he shot Sakura a sympathetic look. “You’re probably going to be here for a while.” She just nodded gratefully.

Inoichi threw the door open and left without another look back.

The captain angrily shoved the money into the hand of the nearest ANBU.

“Here. Handle it,” he snapped.

Standing in the sunlight just outside the building, Inoichi stopped to adjust his sleeve.

“Did you find what you were looking for,” a low voice drifted up from beside the doorway.

One hand shoved in his pocket, one hand holding a book to his face, the man leaning against the wall didn’t stir. He didn’t even lift his eyes from the page as he spoke. He was a picture of laziness.

Inoichi busied himself with straightening his cuffs and lowered his voice too.

“No. Not this time,” he said. The disappointment was clear. “But the closer we get to Itachi, the closer we get to….” his voice died out.

There was no need to continue. The man beside him felt it too.

“But I’m not giving up hope yet,” Inoichi said, strengthening his resolve. Stopping to turn a page, the other man gave a quick nod of agreement.

“You have a remarkable student in there,” Inoichi continued with a brighter tone. He flicked imaginary dust from his coat sleeves. “She’s already gotten on the captain’s bad side.”

The man leaning against the wall snorted. “Good!” he said cheerfully.

The door burst open suddenly. Without another glance, Inoichi strode purposefully away, as if he’d never stopped.

But the ANBU who came out wasn’t interested in Inoichi, he was looking for someone to run his errand.

“Hey you,” he said to the man lazing beside the door. He shoved the wad of money over the front of the book and into the man’s face.

“She wants some Ichiraku ramen. Go get us some, and you can keep…the…change….” The young man’s eyes went painfully wide behind the porcelain mask. His voice died out completely.

The great Copy Ninja slowly raised his face from behind the book to give him a withering glare

“Sorry sir, I d-didn’t realize it was you,” he stumbled. He almost dropped all the money. “Ka-Kakashi-san, your student requested some ramen, and I thought you were….”

But Kakashi’s face broke into a wide smile that no amount of concealments could hide.

“I’d be happy to get it for her,” he said, taking the money. The ANBU breathed a sigh of relief.

---

The tone in the small room changed considerably after that.

“Please start from the beginning, Saskura-san,” said one of the ANBU. The room was silent except for the whisper of paper on wood.

But another voice cut in before she could start. The captain. Again. Sakura decided she hated him.

“No, not from the beginning,” he said gruffly. “I’m not interested in the ones who took you. I want to know about the people above them,” he said, leaning over the table at her, eyes glistening from the deep recesses of the mask. “The Akatsuki.”

Then that makes everything easier, Sakura thought wryly.

“Of course,” she said with mock politeness.

Curling her hair behind her ears, Sakura recollected how it all began and mentally let Katsuro fall from the picture.

Recounting the ordeal, she surprised herself at how much she remembered.

“Too smart for your own good,” Katsuro had joked. Maybe she was. But she had been observant, and the result was a wealth of information.

The ANBU were beyond pleased. It was more concrete information about than they’d been able to accrue in months. They did not press her for minor details, and Sakura was able to convey all the important points without a single mention of the young rogue.

If this was how Katsuro stayed one step ahead of his old village, she thought, then his strategy was a good one. No one cared about the thugs who carried everything out, just the big guy running the show.

Eventually they exhausted all their questions, and Sakura was dismissed. She tiredly made her way out of the room and down the dim hall to the exit.

She blinked once, slowly. A picture of the smiling brown-haired rogue flashed before her eyes.

She’d been able to keep her promise, she thought with a sigh. She was glad of that, she wanted him to stay safe.

But as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, prepared to leave the ordeal behind her, she made a promise to herself. From now on, she would train harder than ever. She’d never be caught like that again. She’d never need to someone to bail her out, fix her mistakes. She’d rely on her own strength from now on.

Then, if anyone ever found out about Katsuro, her time spent with him, her promise, she could prove that she was a fierce kunoichi in her own right. They’d think she was helping him, instead of the other way round.

She twisted the handle and walked out into the bright, warm sunlight, letting the door swing shut behind her.