Chapter Text
<Akira>
The ANBU uniform consisted of black boots, black wrappings, fitted black pants, black steel mesh under armour, dark grey arm bracers and a dark grey armoured vest with reticulated panels along the sides beneath the arms. The under armour and mask varied from agent to agent, with the mask bearing stylised versions of the monikers they assumed. Most ANBU used the sleeveless under armour, adding elbow length gloves with grip patches along the palms and fingers. The style the quartermaster had packaged up for Akira had long sleeves ending in fingerless gloves, a tiny flat catch on the inside and top of the wrists to allow easy removal of the gloves themselves, with only a curved grip patch along the base of his palm. There were thin metal plates over the back of his hand, extending the bracers protection, designed to help catch the sharp edges of bladed weapons.
When he'd first served, Akira had used the standard sleeveless version. He'd been a little apprehensive after he dropped Naruto off at the Academy, fully expecting the same design. He had resolved to immediately swap the design, not wanting to bare his scarred arms. The pleasant surprise had calmed his fast pulse, made him realise that the reclusive quartermaster was obviously someone who knew about what had happened and had taken steps to passively help him in his reintegration.
There was even a hood attached to the under armour, sewn seamlessly into either side of the turtleneck section, right at the base of his neck. Thin weights were sewn into the hem, likely to stop it flying off with quick movement. It beat having to always wear the hooded cloaks and coats in order to hide his rather identifiable hair. There were blondes in Konoha, but no one had the brighter shade of golden blonde. The Yamanaka were mostly blondes, shades of ash and platinum with the occasional light brown and the copper colour Momo and his family had. Minato had a more ashen yellow blonde, while Akira had a slightly darker golden blonde and Naruto had inherited a far brighter yellow blonde. Hiding his hair was a relief and the new hooded version of the under armour was brilliant in his opinion.
The feeling of pulling on his uniform, tightening the straps of the armour, attaching the larger than normal hip pouch and affixing his thigh holster to his leg was…bittersweet. It was calming, familiar, and it pulled a wry smile over his lips. He felt more at ease in black and grey than he had ever felt before.
The white mask sat on the small table in his room, the curling black and grey lines forming the glaring visage of his falcon moniker. When he was thirteen and first presented it, he'd been confused about why his mask was for his summons. Keigo had laughed and showed him the wall of retired masks, pointing out his own black and bronze hawk mask. He'd been the man's apprentice and in ANBU it meant a permanent link between them. His mask design had been decided the moment he graduated, three years before he collected the falcon summoning scroll.
Akira picked the mask up, running gloved fingers over the smooth porcelain. The inside was pitch black, to help stop light reflecting directly into the wearer's eyes. Invisible to the naked eye, he knew there were tiny seals etched into the black. The expected ones were there in the centre, an array designed to filter airborne toxins. It didn't work perfectly, there were too many strains and more created every year, as evidenced by the ANBU he'd seen with the same red spiderweb lines as his own arms. He traced a finger along the edge of the mask, feeling the small seals on the left, right, top and bottom of the inner edge. These ones, Kakashi had explained last night, helped adhere the mask to the wearer's face, negating the need for the old thin rope.
Breathing deeply, he lifted the mask and slotted it into place, a whisper of chakra against his skin as it settled on his face. He blinked a few times, adjusting his vision to the slightly narrower field of view it gave him. Something deep, deep within him settled, relaxed, spreading ease through his limbs. Calm flowed through his mind, his chakra settling easily within his body, condensing down to a barely noticeable ebb. His thoughts shifted, rearranging and finding old patterns as he stood straighter.
He finally felt almost complete again.
Akira slipped out of the house, using a quick shunshin to flicker several roofs away before making his way further into the village. Each jump was silent, his boots landing in sure steps even when he had to flicker off his route to allow a jounin and their genin clearer passage. The kids stared, eyes wide and mouths gaping open, while their jounin sensei gave him a tired wave. Sometimes he felt sorry for the jounin in charge of genin teams. They had three kids of varying personalities and skills to somehow make into a cohesive team long enough to survive and earn promotions to chuunin, which was the earliest a sensei could step away from their charges.
It was different to apprenticeships, where a single genin was taught at an accelerated rate, every skill and ability of their shishou drummed into them. The relationship didn't end at chuunin, didn't even truly end at jounin. Keigo would be his shishou until the day the man died, every lesson entrusted to Akira's own mind.
ANBU headquarters was located beneath the Hokage tower, with three entrances leading directly to it. One was a vertical tunnel in the room beside the Hokage's office, behind a door that wouldn't open without an active ANBU tattoo being pressed against it to supply the spark hidden within the seal inked into skin. Another was next to the Jounin Standby Station, on the bottom floor of the tower. That way also needed an active spark to open.
Akira's tattoo was inactive, six years behind in maintenance. The seal within the tattoo was cracked, making the deep red a lighter, more faded colour. It was still connected to the master seal within Commander Wraith's own tattoo. Sometimes he felt little tingles and pulses from requests being sent out. He couldn't truly sense other ANBU sparks, just vague impressions. They were hidden behind the clever formulae in the seal. He was apprehensive about regaining his ability to pick up on the sparks, the last time he had felt them was as he left Konoha on his foolish mission that he wouldn't have accepted if he hadn't been reeling from deaths and the painful torture of having his mind cracked open by angry Yamanaka.
Inoichi had tried to apologise for that. Akira had ignored it.
Without his own active spark, the only entrance he could use was behind the nearby Academy, tucked in a dead end alley beside a stationary store and a small rundown teahouse owned by a retired agent. The broken seal would still allow him entrance and he knew that the Commander would become instantly aware that an inactive agent had entered but at least he wouldn't be rejected. It was an entrance designed for ANBU who had been injured or had their tattoos damaged badly enough the array failed.
Touching down in the alley, Akira moved forward, inclining his head at the old woman running the teahouse when she paused and stared at him. He didn't think she was surprised? Although she could be, it was the same woman he'd always known to be there. Maybe he looked like a ghost to her, with the mask of a man once thought dead.
Snickering silently to himself, Akira gently pushed open the heavy weather worn blue door, slipping into the darkness within. It was the kind of complete darkness that makes the world fall away, a sense of blindness that obscures absolutely everything. It's darkness he'd always felt at home in.
A trickle of chakra to his eyes lightens the dark into grey and he made his way down the steep stairs, stepping off into a corridor that stretched away to either side. There's no signs to say which way was what department but he turned left and ignored the steel doors set into the walls at even intervals. Meeting rooms, secure places for quick meetings or briefings that hummed faintly with inactive sealing arrays designed for complete privacy. One was active, blazingly bright to his senses but whoever was inside was completely hidden. For a sensor, these kinds of seals were easy to pick up on but muddled any attempt to find the occupants. For a non-sensor, there would be absolutely nothing to differentiate an in-use room from an empty one.
He stopped at a door with a single red slash painted near the handle, small and only about an inch long. This was the indication for Hokage, or for ANBU, headquarters due to its location. He grabbed the handle and cut off the chakra flow to his eyes before the brighter light could blind him. This corridor was lit with soft lamps, the stone floor padded with slate grey carpet. The doors here were numbered in code and painted with sealing arrays. Chakra signatures had to be added individually to each one before a person could open a door and only the Commander and the Sparrows had access to every one.
Somewhere in here, was his new team's office.
Somewhere else in here sat a room belonging to a team dead and gone with only him as the survivor.
Akira frowned behind his mask and made his way through quickly. The entrance he'd taken was essentially a backdoor, everything that was headquarters was laid out beginning from the other two entrances. He slipped out of the corridor and into a much larger square room, two doors on the opposite wall that led to the other entrances. One wall had two hallways splitting off from it and the opposite was decorated in dozens of masks, all hung up to respect the dead and the rare retired agents.
His own mask had apparently been there for years before his return.
At the top of the wall was the Senju symbol, standing in for the man who had created ANBU but never actually served. Senju Tobirama, the Nidaime Hokage. Below were four masks that once belonged to members of the Nidaime's own guard platoon. Two had small clan symbols etched into the wall, proudly claiming the shinobi's birthrights without giving away names, even though most ANBU knew them. One belonged to the Sandaime, a laughing monkey mask done in shades of brown and with the Sarutobi symbol beneath it. The other was meant to be a cackling hyena in grey and black, Uchiha Kagami's, with the uchiwa fan cut into the stone.
Akira paused and stared silently at five masks sitting in a row, four with clan symbols of their own.
Yamanaka Momo. Captain of Team Tou. The one he'd loved. The lynx mask was done in black and gold, his clan's symbol beneath.
Uchiha Hiroko. The outcast of his clan, his closest friend. His otter mask curled in brown and grey, uchiwa stamped beneath.
Tsubasa Hoshi. His team's calm and steady member. Black and brown swept into the horns of his ram mask. The wings of his clan symbol spread underneath.
Mikomaru Sora. The only kunoichi and another civilian born like himself. Black and purple elegant lines made her mockingbird mask.
Fuma Jai. Orphan like himself and talented at chakra shaping. Red and orange blazed in the shape of a phoenix's head. The four pointed shuriken symbol of his clan sharp beneath the mask.
He hadn't seen their masks since the night he failed and they died.
The grief rose, rolling through him in sharp waves that almost felt like they should slice him into ribbons. It ebbs and flows and settles, a heavy weight in his chest. Somehow, it doesn't crash over him or bring him to his knees. It's less than before and somehow more in the face of five masks that will never see sunlight again, never slip unseen under pale moonlight, never muffle voices or ringing laughter. It hurts but it's…okay, easier, lighter.
There's an empty spot a row down, the only empty one because a retired agent never plucks their mask from the wall and the dead are meant to stay dead. But that's his mask's place, a place it hung for years.
“It's been some time since you were last here.”
Akira blinked and turned his masked face to see the equally masked one of Wraith. The man stood in the open doorway of one of the two in that wall. He wasn't wearing his cloak, the slight fuzz of white hair visible in patches on his head. “Commander. Sorry, I…”
“Needed a moment.”
Swallowing, Akira nodded. “Yeah.”
The Commander shrugged, broad shoulders covered in old scars and burns shifting. “Don't apologise for mourning those lost. That's the whole point of that wall. A way for us to remember comrades we didn't know in the light.”
Because ANBU were shadows, designed to be secretive right down to their core. They never acted like they knew each other in the normal uniforms, only when they were ripples in the night. His team had been different, all of them teenagers thrown together because of war and necessity. They simply couldn't ignore each other and Akira had tried. He'd tried so hard in the beginning to never get close. Sora had been the stubborn one to treat them like normal teammates, dragging them all over the village. Hiroko had been the first one he'd gotten close to, a quiet teen with pain in his chocolate eyes. But it had been Momo who had broken through with his calm demeanour and steady presence. The captain and the only reason they came together as a unit so well.
“Follow me. We'll fix up the rest of your paperwork before I send you off to Rhino.”
The office they ended up in was the Commander's, the same one he'd apparently had ever since ANBU was fully formed by the Nidaime. The man was, according to Keigo, around five years older. Both were old for shinobi, incredibly old for an agent. ANBU had short lives, short and fast and gone in a blink. But Wraith had lived long enough to settle himself fully into his office, long enough to change the rooms on either side into his own living quarters. It bled out into the office, a towel draped over a filing cabinet by one door and a veritable garden of plants kept alive by a globe hanging by the other door, covered in seals to help simulate sunlight.
Despite the order of his cabinets and bookshelves, the fact Wraith lived here in headquarters made the room feel warm and comfortable. Not even the cool misty presence of his chakra could take that sense away.
Wraith sat down at his desk and slowly pulled his mask away. Akira's eyes widened behind his own because the man had never done that in his presence. Maroon eyes gazed calmly at him, shiny burn scars raked across his face, one eye almost forced closed by the damage to his eyelid. Low on his cheeks, one warped into a twist by the scars, were two diagonal red lines.
White hair, maroon eyes, cheek markings.
Akira blinked. “Commander…?”
Wraith gave him a lopsided smirk, one corner of his mouth curving up and down at the same time. “You recognise my features.”
“I do,” Akira said slowly. “You bear a remarkable resemblance to Senju Tobirama.”
“My father.”
“Why admit it to me?” Akira frowned, shifting uneasily. The Senju clan was thought to be near obsolete, only the granddaughter of Hashirama still lived and Tsunade had left Konoha behind. Tobirama had been rumoured to have children but there was never any proof, no signs. Keigo had insisted for years that Akira and Minato were related to the Nidaime. Keigo who had been a member of ANBU since its inception. “Did Keigo know?”
Wraith leaned back against the large desk and crossed his arms. “He knows, yes. That pompous idiot has badgered me since he was shown you in the Academy. I assume he's done the same to you?”
“He's convinced of some kind of relation to the Nidaime.”
The laugh Wraith let out was odd, like a saw on wood. “That's not something we can actually check, considering I wasn't around for my own kid's birth. Never met him, never knew his name. But, you asked why I'm letting you know. The answer is simple.” He gestured at the burn scars over his head and down his visible upper arms. “The marks you bear mean nothing in our line of work. For now, I assume you see them as reminders of the pain, brands on your skin. That's fine. Eventually you'll learn they aren't. Every scar you wear is proof of your strength. It's that strength and force of will I want back in our ranks.”
Akira tensed, fingers flexing. He tilted his head and breathed out slowly. “I know they are. They can be both.”
Wraith nodded and picked his mask up, slotting it back into place. “Good. That's what I wanted to hear. Now then. I need you to fill out some forms. Officially, your reinstatement puts you back in the Hunter department. You'll be serving under Rhino in Team Bo and they aren't classified as Hunters. We need to finalise the transfer paperwork for you to join the Security division. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to secure your permanent role. Certain individuals insisted you be assigned as a Floater. Your skills as a sensor are deemed valuable.”
Akira scowled. “Who? I was told I would be allowed permanent placement within the village.”
“The Hokage accepted Shimura's proposal.”
Lightning crackled over Akira's arms. He took in a deep breath, folding his chakra back in before he exhaled. Danzo. He wasn't entirely surprised by that, nor with the fact the Hokage listened and changed his original promise. It still made him angry, but he wouldn't argue. Couldn't argue. “I see.”
Wraith moved around his desk, sitting down and pulling a stack of paperwork over. “Understand, Falcon, that I can still veto any proposed missions under the umbrella of overall village protection. That said, remember you are a shinobi of Konoha. Don't make rash decisions.”
“Orders are orders,” Akira said carefully. “My duty is to follow them.”
“That's why I always appreciated you. All of you. Your team was the easiest to trust, even in the middle of war. It is also the reason I approved your return. You're not blindly loyal, but you know well enough not to tread outside your place.”
Akira mused over those words as he went through the forms, accepting that the Commander was correct. He might push and bend the rules, he might seethe over choices, hate things he was ordered to do, but he had never once stepped over the line. He couldn't, even before he had Naruto to think about. The mere idea of going against Konoha was…unfathomable.
He wasn't blind to the reasons why.
Propaganda began at first breath. It was almost bred into every child. He was more aware of it because of his childhood. The fear in the eyes of the Matron, his brother's worry for his future, the deal worked out with the Hokage and the following threats, comments Kushina had made on her bad days, hints dropped when Keigo was bitter and angry. His loyalty had never truly been to the Sandaime when he first donned his hitai-ate, even then it had been to Minato. But he'd still known and accepted his role, tucked his opinion away and did his duty. Like every shinobi since Konoha was properly established.
As he left the office, Akira glanced back at Wraith. The man had been a mystery to every agent as far as he had known before now. A man with terrible burn scars and an imposing aura who earned and kept his men's loyalty through strength and will. A man who had admitted to being one of the rumoured children of the Nidaime. Something Keigo had always insisted was true and had obviously kept his word to never breathe his knowledge of who.
An oath Akira had taken as well.
Minato and himself were definitely not related to the Nidaime, that was for sure. Wraith had the same albinistic traits, pale skin, white hair, red hued eyes, similar facial bone structures. He and his brother both had blonde hair, blue eyes and, usually, a natural light tan shade of skin, along with softer and more exotic angles to their eyes and cheekbones. Akira's skin had always been paler, not quite as pale as he was now, but nothing even close to the shades the Nidaime and Wraith had.
He grinned behind his mask. He had a way to annoy Keigo now.
—------------------------------------
Team Bo's office was located down the long corridor the Commander's was on, past the door to the massive room the Barrier teams called home. That room had always given him a headache, his chakra skittering over dozens of non-ANBU shinobi and the few agents inside, surrounded by complex seals that burned and crackled against his senses. He disliked it immensely and had to almost shut down his senses just to walk past it.
Akira stopped at the office door with the kanji for fire painted on the top right corner, letting a trail of chakra lead his senses beyond it, picking up on nearly a dozen signatures inside. It was a dizzying mix of elements, wind and lightning notably absent but that was mostly normal. Konoha didn't produce many shinobi with those particular natural affinities, so the amount of burning embers didn't surprise him. He could sense Genma and Raidou inside though and it made the tight ball of anxiety in his chest relax.
He pushed open the door, stepping inside silently and co*cking his head to the side in the silent signal for laughter ANBU used.
Genma was laying back over someone's boots, lifted into the air and balancing his weight in a stiff plank while two other agents stacked books onto his stomach. His face was scrunched up, senbon clutched tightly between gritted teeth.
The stack of books was ten high and thick.
Raidou was sitting cross legged on the largest desk, lips curled in a small smile and dark eyes amused. The rest of the apparently large team were scattered around at smaller desks or slumped over the two plush couches. No one was paying attention to the door or to Akira standing there and watching.
It was an amusing sight, a dull ache in his chest at memories of his own team messing around in their office, but it was easy now to brush that aside. This was going to be his new team, twice the size at least and made up primarily of parents. Raidou had told him he was sure they'd all be accepting of him, that none of this team had voiced particularly negative opinions in the past. Even Kakashi had said that Bo was a rather laidback team off-duty, well known in ANBU for their easy nature.
Akira took a few more steps into the room and Raidou's dark eyes flicked over to him. “Ah, Falcon! You made it.”
Genma wobbled as the person holding him up jerked, the thick books sliding off his stomach to smack on the floor. Whiskey eyes widened and he rolled to the side, jumping up onto his feet with a wide smile. “The bird is here!”
The other agents all turned their eyes on him, various shades of brown looking him up and down. Akira hesitated a moment, steeling his nerves before smoothly lifting a hand and removing his mask, pushing back his hood to reveal his hair. It was odd not being able to hook it onto his belt, instead he pushed it to the side of his head, the seals inside keeping it easily attached. “Viper. Call me a bird again and I'll show you why snakes fear them.”
Genma snickered, senbon jumping to the opposite corner of his mouth. “Just like old times, eh?”
“Last time you worked with him, you were a tiny brat,” Raidou muttered as he stood up. “Welcome to Team Bo, Falcon. We have six members on duty right now, but you can meet them tomorrow. Team Bo, meet Namikaze Akira. Codename, Falcon.”
One of the agents stood up and wandered closer. The dark brown of their eyes was ringed in a dull grey and a small scar cut over the corner of one eye. Short, spiky brown hair was cut longer in the front, flopping over their forehead. Like everyone else there, they wore the sleeveless under armour, tattoo a proud red curl on their left arm. “I thought Falcon was dead? Pretty sure I've seen that mask on the wall.”
Akira shrugged one shoulder, lips curling into what he knew was a smug smirk. “My death was misreported.”
“Oh? That why you look like you've personally come face-to-face with a shredder?”
He tensed, even as Raidou barked out a sharp ‘Usai!’. He'd prepared himself for people either staring or commenting on his scars. The ones on his face were the more mild though, just thin silver lines. His arms were definitely the worst, in his opinion. It wasn't natural or comfortable to have his chakra pathways mapped out in pink and red lines. Having his facial scars mentioned didn't bother him as much as it might have a month ago. Naruto always claimed they were cool, childish curiosity always battling the respect Akira had told him to show towards shinobi bearing marks of surviving their enemies.
Kakashi had traced rough fingertips over his cheeks just a few days ago, dark grey eye soft and burning with something unnamed.
Akira tilted his head and changed his smirk to a slow smile full of danger and sharp edges, his chakra unfurling around him. “I assure you, the shredder lost.”
Usai laughed, loud and sharp, and leaned forward. “I like you. Names Usai Uzuki. Commander thought he was funny and assigned me Rabbit.” He grinned, showing off the slightly bigger pair of front teeth.
Raising his eyebrows, Akira muttered, “my condolences.”
One of the two kunoichi in the room scoffed and stretched her legs out where Uzuki had vacated. “So. We got a supposedly dead, reinstated agent with a face like the damn Yellow Flash and hair like a beacon. Whattaya bringing besides pretty boy looks?”
Genma frowned at the woman. “Have some respect, Takeo-chan. I know you read the file.”
“We all read the file,” she grumbled. “Taichou made us all memorise it. What use have we got for all that? Explain how we ain't gonna get blasted by lightning when we have an area jutsu user?”
Akira glanced at her, taking in the old pink scars over bare hands and arms, the katana laid down beside her. She was a kenjutsu expert, he'd assume, which meant close combat. The concern was warranted, even if it was delivered rather rudely. “I've never hit a comrade before. In the war my job was to clear enemies away from our shinobi, even if they were still fighting. Is your blade chakra conducting?”
“It is.”
“Then don't stick it in someone I've hit with my lightning. It has a tendency to take a few minutes to dissipate from a body.”
She eyed him and sat up slowly. “You have fine control?”
“Circ*mstances mean I need to relearn it, but I have the control necessary to avoid hitting certain targets.”
She smirked at him, propping her chin in her hand as she leaned an elbow on her knee. “If you get the control back, reckon you could charge my katana without frying me?”
“Yes.”
“Takeo Musuri. Mantis. We're gonna be great friends, Namikaze.”
He was getting overwhelmed by the flaring burning ember chakra around him, cooled only by a singular flowing wave and Raidou's solid rock. Genma slid up next to him, his sharp and low burn wrapping him up in a cocoon of warmth that didn't try to boil his water. An arm slid around his waist and he leaned into the taller man, taking comfort in the familiarity, not afraid to show that he needed it. ANBU relied on each other, shinobi in the general forces didn't share the same darkness, didn't understand the need for touch or reassurance the way a fellow agent did.
He was constantly telling himself it was the only reason why Kakashi elicited that warm burn in his veins.
“Just to make it clear,” Raidou said as he crossed his arms and sent a sharp look over the room. “Out of everyone in this room, Falcon is by far the highest ranking in terms of mission success. Technically, also by time serving. I don't want anyone to be petty and you all better hold back unwanted opinions. Commander Wraith himself approved his return, that says something. Falcon was also the one who trained myself and Viper and was a member of the Yondaime's guard platoon. You have this one chance to air any grievances. Beyond today, I'll put anyone who steps out of line on a week-long Hokage rotation. Just as usual.”
Genma huffed out a laugh, laying his head down on Akira's shoulder, chakra shifting and running smooth and warm against agitated lightning and wind. “Oh please someone be that dumb again. It was hilarious the last time.”
Akira blinked and dipped his head to meet amused honey eyes. "Wait. He's actually done that?”
“Mhmm. The last idiot served three weeks as a guard until they begged forgiveness. Apparently, Hokage-sama had taken to talking about his fascination with some newly released book.”
“It's p*rn,” a man with the pale lilac of Hyuuga eyes muttered, face screwing up in distaste. “A leader of a shinobi village should not read such filth.”
The youngest in the room, a teen likely around eighteen or nineteen, scoffed and stood up. He stalked over to Akira and Genma tensed his arm, chakra flaring higher in warning. The kid didn't even blink at it as he curled his lip in distaste. Washed out brown eyes looked Akira up and down. “My brother always said the storm user on his team was some amazing prodigy. Gifted, He reckoned. You don't look or sound like you deserved his respect. Why the f*ck are you alive and he's nothing but ashes?”
Akira's chest tightened as he looked over the teen's features. Familiar, a vague resemblance to Hoshi in the shape of his eyes and jaw. “Tsubasa?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded slowly, swallowing past the choked feeling in his throat. “I'm sorry. Hoshi was…a friend, someone I cared for. He didn't deserve what was done to him.”
“That doesn't answer the f*cking question!”
“Back off, Jiro,” Genma snapped. His chakra roared into an inferno, a sharp slithery feeling entwined in the heat.
Akira stepped away from Genma, carefully folding his own snapping chakra close. He pushed the rising panic, the overwhelmingly dark thoughts he had regarding that night, and the angry whisper of why, tugged it all together and shoved it away, draping himself in cool and calm. “Genma,” he said quietly, firmly, a warning. He met the teen's angry eyes and kept his own expression as calm as he could. “Tsubasa Jiro. I can't tell you why I'm alive and everyone else died. That's a burden I will carry for whatever life I have left. There's nothing I can say to make up for my failure. But I can promise you one thing.” His chakra sharpened, the threat of slicing winds. “I know that man's chakra now, I will never forget the feel of it. I will never stop until I cut him down.”
Jiro frowned, pale brown eyes shifting and his expression twisting into guilt. “That's a death promise,” he said carefully.
Akira inclined his head in acknowledgement. It was a simple fact that his words were just that. It made it easier to bear the pain and the memories, knowing that he would give his life to make that masked man pay with his own for what he took from the world. His team, his friends, his love, his brother and sister. The life Naruto should have lived, full of light and love. He would gladly give his own life in payment but the reality was that he was too dark, too jaded, too much a finely honed blade to not take down the man responsible before he breathed his last.
The teen before him shook his head. “No. Hoshi wouldn't…he loved you, all of you. I don't want some death promise. You didn't die so you have to live. You gotta live for them and not die. I hate you, I hate that you lived but there's gotta be a reason for that. So find it.”
Akira blinked, almost shocked by the turnaround. “I live for my nephew.”
Jiro huffed out a breath, looking away. “Then don't go f*cking dying,” he muttered before walking away and slumping down next to Masuri.
Akira felt off-kilter, parts of him torn in different directions. The guilt and shame ate at him, the pain sat heavy in his chest, the confusion dizzy in his head and an odd floating sense of relief. He was serious about that promise, but he was also determined to live so Naruto never needed to be alone and sad ever again. He wasn't…quite sure what to do.
“Well,” Raidou said dryly. “That was fun. Anyone else got an issue? No? Good. Remember that Bo is a family team. We all look out for each other so the people we care for don't need to speak to a name engraved in a stone. Tomorrow, we'll start working on integrating Falcon into our formations. Normal shifts start back up tonight. I'll speak to the ones on duty now so they know what's up. Falcon?”
Akira raised his eyes and met concerned brown. “Yes, taichou?”
Oh. That…hurt to say.
“I'll explain our role in the village tomorrow, hopefully. It's not so different from what we do as the Hokage's guards, but we also keep a patrol around the village. Your sensory abilities will really help out there. Meet me here once your drop Naruto-kun at the Academy. We'll do a little training once you're here.”
Akira nodded. Inwardly, he frowned at himself. He had backslid a little here, he couldn't afford that. He had to be better, do better. He had to walk forward.
—-----------------------------------------
<Naruto>
Sometimes, Naruto absolutely hated his lessons with Iruka. Kanji were boring and confusing and made up of so many rules and lines and he always got lost. But he had a lot remembered now and he practised them carefully even though the smell of ink made his nose itchy.
Other times, he absolutely loved his lessons. Iruka was kind and sometimes funny. He'd told Naruto about all sorts of pranks and funny things he used to do. Because Iruka was an orphan but he remembered his parents. The Kyuubi took them away and Naruto had frowned and said he hated the fox because it caused so many problems. Iruka looked funny, like he'd eaten a lemon but then he smiled and moved on to another lesson. Those lessons were starting to come in handy, especially when Hiroto called on him and asked him to read the line they were on in his book.
It wasn't long. Just a few kanji. Naruto read it perfectly because he knew those ones and what they meant all together. Hiroto had looked so mad but just ignored him again.
Naruto shrugged and let his pencil spin on the back of his hand, his chakra pushing it around by making a swirly pattern with it. Chouji was sick today so it was only Shikamaru and him at their desk and the other boy was happily napping behind his stood up book. It meant Naruto was bored because normally Chouji would help him while Shikamaru napped. Not that his friend didn't help but he was always sleepy in class. He said it was all a drag and boring. Naruto just thought Shikamaru was too smart for class.
When the bell rang to end class, Naruto poked Shikamaru awake and packed away his books into the little square cubby thing they each had. It was a new thing, because one of the civilian boys had ruined the last book and the teachers got mad. Now, no one could take their class books home. Naruto didn't mind, he couldn't read it all and Iruka had a set he always brought with him anyway. Besides, after class was for taijutsu or chakra control or maybe today he could practise his henge again!
Naruto stepped outside, grinning when Shikamaru's mum dragged him off, waving happily. He looked around at all the adults there and frowned when he didn't see his uncle's blonde hair. He knew today Akira was going to be meeting the other shinobi he'd work with, not that he would say what that work was, and maybe he was still busy. But there was no grey hair either, so no Kakashi to pick him up. He shifted, uneasy and unsure because there was always someone to pick him up ever since Akira came.
Had he…done something wrong?
Sasuke wandered over, all unhappy and annoyed, kicking at the ground. “He late too?”
“Eh?”
The other boy rolled his eyes. “My nii-san is late. Is your uncle late?”
“I don't know,” Naruto said quietly. Sasuke was like a weird not really friend, another kid who only joined them for break and happily ate his tomatoes. He was pretty sure Akira always added some to his bento just for that reason. He didn't mind, Sasuke always had extra meat in his and Naruto got to eat that. “He had a shinobi thing today. Maybe he is?”
Sasuke sighed and stood by his side. “Might as well wait together. Someone will come eventually.”
Naruto nodded and stared down at his feet. He didn't like the scared and sad feeling he had. He used to feel like that all the time before Akira, all alone in that dirty place he used to live in. If Akira didn't want him, where was he going to go?
Storms and lightning, quick flashes of sparking chakra.
Naruto's head snapped up, eyes wide and there was Akira, appearing right in front of them with a gentle smile. “Ojisan…”
Akira wrapped him up in strong arms, warm and safe and here and not pushing him away. “I'm so sorry I'm late, Naruto. I had to finish filling boring paperwork out with Shikaku-sama.”
Naruto clung tightly to the stiff green vest Akira wore now, pressing his nose against his uncle's neck and just breathing in the man's scent. “It's okay.”
Akira hummed and moved him to his side, one arm under him so he didn't fall down. Naruto watched as blue blue eyes looked around before he frowned down at Sasuke. “Is no one here to pick you up, Sasuke-kun?”
Sasuke shook his head, dark eyes all sad. “Itachi-nii was meant to be here. He's probably busy again.”
“Well, I'm not leaving you alone. Hop down a second, Naruto.”
Naruto slid down, wanting to climb right back up and never let Akira disappear. He watched though, as his uncle crouched down and bit his thumb. “Are you getting Miko?”
“No, Miko isn't fast enough for this.” Akira slammed a hand to the ground and smoke puffed up, waved away by the grey and black bird sitting on the ground. "This is Takachi. He's my fastest summon.”
Takachi turned his head to look at Naruto, his yellow orange eyes so bright. “Oh. This is the new little one, Akira-chick?”
“This is my nephew, Naruto, and a classmate of his, Sasuke. Takachi, I need you to find the Uchiha compound and inform them that Sasuke is going to spend some time with me and Naruto. I'll make sure he's home for dinner.”
The falcon bobbed his head and jumped onto Akira's arm. “Oh, that's easy, chick! Any particular Uchiha I need to tell?”
Akira looked at Sasuke before he raised his arm. “Find a woman named Mikoto. She's his mother.”
“Easy as!”
Naruto watched as Akira threw his arm up, the falcon taking off and flapping his wings until he was high up. He closed his wings and dove, straightening out and shooting off so fast he was a blur. He stared, eyes wide, after the super fast bird. “Wow!”
Akira grinned and ruffled his hair, hand a comforting weight on his bead. “Takachi is a peregrine falcon. They're very fast and he's actually the fastest out of his own family. Now, Sasuke-kun. I'm sorry I didn't ask permission before doing that, but I saw Itachi-kun less than an hour ago and he seemed quite busy. With him being late, I assumed he was still tied up. If you want, I can take you to your home right now instead.”
Sasuke was staring at Akira, cheeks all pink and eyes wide open. “I-I…no that's-I mean I don't mind? You saw nii-san?”
“I did. He looked very tired.”
“Oh.” Sasuke looked down and Naruto didn't like the sad look he had. “If you don't mind…I'd like to go with you. If I go home now, there isn't going to be anyone.”
Akira smiled, the nice warm one he used whenever Naruto was upset. That was good. Sasuke was upset and Naruto was upset that he was upset and that he'd be all alone at home even though he had a whole big clan. That was silly. Why wouldn't they all care for him too?
“Well, okay then. First we'll grab some snacks on the way home and then you boys can pick something to do.”
Naruto bounced in place and grinned at Akira. “Jutsu!”
Akira raised his eyebrows and laughed, the light happy one. “Maybe. Or you could show me how much better you've gotten at chakra control.”
Naruto nodded and grabbed Sasuke's hand, ignoring the other boy's squeaky sound. “Right! Let's go!”
He hadn't actually had anyone over yet. He'd been to Shikamaru's and Chouji's homes but he hadn't asked if he could invite his friends to his own. Akira seemed to like his privacy and even though his Keigo and those two other guys had been to the house, he only really seemed comfortable with Kakashi there. So, Naruto figured it was better not to drag his friends over or decide on a sleepover or anything like that. But Akira had decided to bring Sasuke and that meant he could ask another day for his own friends. It was exciting!
Naruto bounced up to the gate, put his hand on the seal and then dragged Sasuke through. “Welcome to my home! It's not some fancy clan place, but it has a really cool tree and pond with frogs and a spot for my plants and poles for ojisan's birds!”
Sasuke looked around at the front yard, a tiny smile on his face. The front had neat little garden beds that Naruto had planted a bunch of things into. Little flowers and even one spot for the herbs Akira liked to cook with. It wasn't as great as the backyard was, but it was nice and green, with bright flowers.
“I like it,” Sasuke said quietly. “It reminds me of our gardens.”
Narutp grinned and slid the door open, putting his sandals together neatly and pulling on his orange socks. He dug through the box of new socks and pulled out a pair of bright blue ones and held them out to Sasuke. “We don't wear those slipper thingies. These can be your socks!”
Sasyke took them and pulled them on and then stared as Akira walked in, not even stopping to take his boots off. “Does…does your uncle not know?”
Naruto scrunched his nose up and shook his head. “Akira-oji says that shinobi who wear the boots shouldn't be expected to take them off. Some kinda unspeaking rule, ya know?”
“Unspoken,” Akira called over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen. The bag of daif*cku they'd grabbed on the way in his hands.
Sasuke looked confused. “I…okay? My nii-san takes his off though.”
Naruto shrugged. “I dunno then.”
He led Sasuke out to the engawa in the back, grinning wide when the other boy let out a sound of surprise. The big willow tree and the sand around it, the pond with the croaky frogs, his little greenhouse and the area for Akira's birds, their backyard looked nice and peaceful. It was Naruto's favourite place to be in all of Konoha.
And Sasuke was the first person he'd ever showed it to.
“Neat, huh?”
“It's beautiful.”
